#//i dunno why this sat in my ask for so long
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"Mom," Steve whispered in the inky blackness of his parents' room. "Mom, there's something under my bed."
Patricia Harrington turned over. "Steven, go back to sleep," she murmured.
"I can't." Steve said. "There's a monster."
"No such thing." his mom said, angrier, more awake. "Go to bed now, and if I catch you out of bed again you can forget going to Tommy's this weekend."
Steve nodded and padded back down the hall, pausing at his door then taking a running jump into bed.
The room was silent.
"I know you're here." Steve whispered, making sure all his limbs were tucked safely away under the covers. "You don't scare me."
A couple minutes of quiet, then Steve heard a scraping sound come from under his bed. He squeaked and pulled his blankets up to his nose.
A horrible, raspy laugh came from below him. "I do scare you!" said a voice. "You lied!"
"No-no you don't!" Steve said boldly. He clutched his blanket tighter, then said, "I can't be scared of something I can't see! That's just dumb."
Something dark began to slither across the floor out of the corner of Steve's eye. Oh, I'm gonna regret that, he thought.
The thing began to pull itself up, looming over Steve. It cracked a smile, and sharp white teeth gleamed in the light from his closet.
Steve screamed.
"Shut up!" his dad shouted angrily from downstairs, and Steve clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes flicking between the shadow and the door like he wasn't sure which monster to be more afraid of.
The monster crept toward him, and Steve dug his fingernails into his face, scooting away from the horror. He whimpered, not daring to close his eyes.
Then the monster began to shrink.
It shriveled away, changing color and backing up, until a little boy, about Steve's age, stood in front of him. He had long curly hair and was dressed in a t-shirt that was way too big on him. When he opened his eyes, Steve flinched, because the whites of his eyes simply...weren't there. His eyes were an onyx black.
"Hi," the boy said. "I'm Eddie."
Steve was too stunned to speak, but he did uncover his mouth.
"I'm the monster under your bed!" Eddie said. "I'm supposed to scare you, but, um-" he risked a quick look at the door "-I don't think you need my help for that."
"Why are you supposed to scare me?" Steve asked.
Eddie shrugged. "Dunno. Every kid's got one. It's just how it works. I was made to be your monster, forever!" He sat down on the edge Steve's bed, bumping Steve's shoulder against his. "Weird to be on this side of the bed. No dust bunnies or anything."
Steve giggled, forgetting his fear. "You're fun!"
Eddie grinned at him. "Thank you! None of the other monsters think my jokes are funny."
"So you have to scare me?" Steve asked. "But you're not scary. Not after talking to me."
Eddie paused. "Oh, right. I'm not supposed to talk to you. Um..."
"What if we just say you're scaring me?" Steve asked. "I'll pretend I'm really scared of the monster under my bed, and you pretend you scare me every single night. But really we're hanging out instead of scaring!"
"Ooh, I like that idea!" Eddie struck a dramatic pose. "I'll be the monster under your bed, but I'll be ready to protect you if you need it too!"
Steve stuck out his hand like he saw his dad do for business deals. "Deal?"
Eddie shook it. "Deal."
-
Steve sprinted through the forest, the kids hot on his heels. "There!" he shouted. "Everyone in!"
The kids bolted to the abandoned cabin, and Steve slammed the door shut. "Is there a bed in here?" he called. "A couch? A fridge?"
"Bed's in here!" Will yelled, and Steve followed his voice to the cluttered bedroom, complete with partially-caved-in bedframe. He gingerly took a seat on the mattress, cringing when it crackled. He did not need to know what was on this.
"Eddie?" he called, tapping on the flaky painted wood.
The shitheads crowded in, and Mike murmured. "What the fuck is he doing?"
Steve ignored him. "Eddie, come on, I need your help."
Something tall, dark, and lanky slid out from under the bed, and all the kids jumped back in fright, raising their various weapons. Steve leapt to get in front of them, raising his hands as a shield. "Chill! Calm down, this is Eddie!"
Eddie shrank into his human form, draping himself over Steve. "You had to summon me to the nastiest bed in Indiana? Really, Steve?"
Steve shrugged. "This was the closest one. We need your help, Eds."
"We?" He focused on the Party. "Well, these must be the infamous buttheads." Eddie slid into the shadows and reappeared behind the Party, inspecting them. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, right?" he said, pointing at each one as he said their names.
"What the fuck are you?" Dustin asked.
Suddenly Eddie was under Steve's arm, wrapping a hand around his waist. "I'm Steve's monster under the bed." he said. "I'm just... friendlier with Steve than most of the monsters I work with."
Steve rolled his eyes. "You can tell him you're my boyfriend, they know I'm bi." He kissed Eddie on the cheek.
The kids all broke into gasps, except for Max, who fake gagged. "Don't be gross!" she yelled. "Demogorgon outside, remember?"
"Ah, right." Steve said. "Eds, can you-"
"On it." Eddie kissed Steve. "I'll be back."
The kids watched Eddie melt into shadows, then wheeled on Steve. "Steven Don't-Know-Your-Middle-Name Harrington," Dustin said. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
edit: i did not expect this response to the short little thing that took me 30 mins max at 2am!! i’m planning on rewriting it and turning it into a full length fic, so i’ll come back and edit this with the link!
edit #2: if there’s anything you guys want to see in the full length version of this please let me know!! i’m trying my best to make it a slowburn which is horrid for my adhd so let me know if there’s anything you want!!
#weirdest au ive ever written LMAO#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#idk where this came from either
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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg
title: broken (pt. 2)
pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)
series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1)
rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au
summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down.
note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride.
warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst.
drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est
word count: 17.7k my god
smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))
-
-
There’s no way.
How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time?
“No fuckin’ way.”
Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware.
“Were they always on this team?”
“No.”
“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”
They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd.
It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience.
The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.
Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand.
Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.
And your heart burns and burns.
If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night.
God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing.
“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.
“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”
“Play.”
Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still…
One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.”
Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise.
“And you’re paying me double.”
Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him.
But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?”
After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.”
Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.”
Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention.
But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.
Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.”
Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,
“Don’t worry, love.”
You stare.
“This will be over soon.”
-
-
The game is… just a game. For now.
No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.
Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.
And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet.
“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!”
That was close. Way too close.
Get it together.
But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs.
And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy.
However.
When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense.
On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action.
Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats.
Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.
Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you.
You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks,
“I need you all to calm down.”
“No can do, coach.”
“Not if they aren’t.”
Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived?
Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder.
And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too.
Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.”
“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.”
“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?”
Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s.
And you don’t like it one bit.
But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up.
And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring.
Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed.
Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out.
“What?”
“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.”
“After what he did to you?”
The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…”
Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,
“I can’t let that shit go.”
“Yoongi.”
“Sorry, doll.”
“Please just—”
Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back.
Only for him to be just out of reach.
-
-
After halftime, it’s a whole different game.
From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill.
And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead.
Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on.
Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.
If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck!
Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.
Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.
The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning.
Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.
A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench.
What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger.
But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands.
Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win.
All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.
It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate.
Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change.
And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive.
Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight.
Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees.
And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.
-
-
Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy.
But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.
Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you.
Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.
It’s making you wonder if…
Nah.
That’s still too big a reach.
When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night.
Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”
Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”
“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”
“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”
Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—
“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!”
Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, ��Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”
“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”
“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight.
God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on.
Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?”
Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”
“You sure? That looked…”
Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.”
Motherfucker.
Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”
Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?”
Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.”
“Mm.”
Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”
“What are y’all talking about over there!”
Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”
“I picked already!”
“Then let’s go then.”
Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.
Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night.
Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain.
Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky.
In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?”
And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod.
Weird.
But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?”
“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.”
We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.”
Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.”
“You’re whipped.”
“No, you.”
“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.
And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat.
The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some.
Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do—
“Taehyung.”
Your eyes shake.
“Get her out of here. Now.”
And you’ve never screamed so loud.
Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!”
To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.”
“No! What the fuck—”
“We’re leaving.”
“Please—!”
There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart.
“Babe, we have to go now.”
“No, let me go!”
They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?
You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness.
Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts.
Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive.
Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.
And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.
Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.
Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—
As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”
“Do what!”
“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”
“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”
No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—
Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”
“Stop and just think for a second—”
“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”
“Dumb as fuck!”
Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.
Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.”
From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure.
“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much.
“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.
Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…”
“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.”
Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod.
Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort.
Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?
Guess you know how to choose your circle, too.
Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard.
Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”
When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”
Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut.
You want to believe him. You do. You do.
But hope may be a bitch.
So you don’t.
-
-
Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort.
You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating.
The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”
With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”
We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”
“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—”
You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”
Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?”
“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.”
Oh.
“Your brother’s here, too.”
“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.”
“Umm.. Yeah.”
As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.”
It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—”
“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes.
You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.”
“He was gonna—”
“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up.
And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?”
That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.”
Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?”
“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.”
“Fuck that.”
“Huh?”
What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.”
“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.”
“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.”
And you mean that.
“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.”
So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”
And you hang up before anyone can say anything else.
-
-
You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.
Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.
And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen.
-
-
Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.
Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.
They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid.
As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,
“Is there something you wanna say to me?”
“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.”
“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.”
But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room,
“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?”
Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”
Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out,
“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?”
You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”
Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not.
And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out.
Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted.
But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.”
“I will.”
“I’m serious.”
“I will.”
Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…
No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends.
So you leave to go pack without another word.
It’s raining.
Hard.
And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up.
With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do.
Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either.
So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you.
Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened.
Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you?
A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—
Your eyes burn.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
No answer.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
Pick up. What the fuck.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.
Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring.
Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick.
Yuri: Outgoing Call
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m not coming.”
“You okay?”
“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”
“Yoongi’s? Why?”
Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know.
Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else.
Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—
“Hello?”
“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”
“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”
“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”
“I won’t. Not about this.”
“Thank you.”
“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”
“Okay.”
Go, go, go. Please, just get there.
Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with.
But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else.
After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park.
Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside.
And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.
Yoongi has to be home. His car is here.
But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.
Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.
Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer.
After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear.
Finally. “Hello.”
“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside.
“You’re here?”
“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell.
But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame.
“Not tonight.”
Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—”
“Not tonight—”
“—you don’t let me in I’m—”
“Go home—”
“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”
Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go.
And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”
“No.”
“Go home.”
“No!”
He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching,
“Please.”
Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage.
You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine.
Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight.
You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you.
Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice,
“…No.”
You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.
And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that.
But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—
“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—
A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.
As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground.
And your breath cuts like it’s your last.
Shards.
Pieces.
Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room.
And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?
“I told you, doll.”
You choke on a sob.
“Go home.”
Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.
No, no, no. Get rid of it.
Throw it out, all of it, all of it.
A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.
What did he do, what did he do?
Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.
Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.
Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is.
Shit, this is everywhere.
When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.
“Stop.”
Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”
“Just go, please.”
“No.”
This hurts.
This really, really hurts.
Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.
But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going.
Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain.
“I got it.”
“Let me do it.”
“Your brother needs you.”
“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”
It hurts.
He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.
But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room.
When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way.
In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment.
Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.
Shit.
While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed.
This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.
You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away.
One more. Two more. Another one here.
As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.
Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.
The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore.
Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse.
Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.”
“I still need to—”
“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.”
“Do what? I’m helping you.”
That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting.
But ice.
“Who said I needed it?”
And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?”
“You think I’m joking?”
“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?”
“I say a lot of things.”
…Oh.
That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder.
Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”
Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.”
As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?”
Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.”
“Not tonight what.”
“We aren’t doing this tonight.”
“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.”
Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.”
He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?”
“I am.”
“Wow.”
That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?”
“Do you even know?”
“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!”
“That’s cus—”
Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.”
For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…”
All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?
Fine then.
“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”
“I swear to—I just said not tonight.”
Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.”
Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.”
And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock,
“Who asked you?”
Dark liquid drips onto your soul.
You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.”
“That’s what I said.”
Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare.
You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time.
“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.”
God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
It hurts.
You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center.
Silence fills the room.
And it rains. It pours.
But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—
Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—
And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming.
“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—”
“Whoa, hold u—”
“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—”
“Just listen—”
“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—”
Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming.
“I swear to—”
You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders.
“Can’t fucking listen, can you?”
“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again.
And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now.
“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.”
“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass.
“He’s still home.”
“So?”
“Shouldn’t you—”
“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.”
Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you.
Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.”
Your eyes are ice.
“Are you.”
You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside.
And Yoongi cracks like lightning.
“Goddamn it.”
Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk.
Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain.
Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life.
“Stubborn.”
“Coward.”
Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth,
“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.”
“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.”
His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.”
“Make me.”
Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions.
And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?
This is liberation.
You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself.
“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length.
Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that.
With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what.
“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?”
You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat.
“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?”
And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.”
And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it.
Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground.
“Holy fuck.”
Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss.
Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.”
“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall.
You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact.
“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.”
“Can’t make me do shit—”
Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.”
Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—
Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.”
Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside.
And it’s maddening. “Please!”
“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall.
And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes.
It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely.
“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust.
“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.”
You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.”
And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?”
“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach.
Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway.
Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth.
“What was that?”
“I said fuck you!”
“Thought so.”
Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.
“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.”
“Fuck—!”
“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”
You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver.
Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.”
“Asshole—”
A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.”
“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—”
Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?”
You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.”
“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.”
“Make me. Bet you can’t.”
Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.”
Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear.
“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.”
Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that.
“Fuckin’ thought so.”
When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure.
Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down.
The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension.
“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.”
“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!”
“What, doll.”
“Please!”
“Nah.”
Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt.
Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close.
Every. Single. Time.
Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?”
“Please!”
“Mm. Not loud enough.”
“Yoongi, please.”
“Oh, we’re saying names now?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.”
“Do it yourself then.”
Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.
And Yoongi gets a front row seat.
His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—
Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…”
“Nah.”
This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.”
“You’ll come when I say you can.”
“Please! …Please..”
“You done being a brat?”
“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong.
Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.”
You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.”
Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command,
“Then fucking come.”
And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin.
Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened.
Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice.
“I said again.”
Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone.
“Yoongi—”
A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place.
“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.”
You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—
“Baby.”
But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs.
“Babe.”
“I—I—”
Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.”
You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes…
They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.”
“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale.
“There you go. Keep going.”
You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is.
“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.”
You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?”
“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—”
You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Babe.”
“You told me so many times—”
“Breathe, angel.”
You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice.
“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.”
“Like what?”
“Just… Like this.”
“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—”
He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out.
And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—”
“I’m here.”
“So please don’t push me away.”
“I won’t.”
“I know you don’t make promises but—”
“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear.
Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”
You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore.
“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.”
“Hmm?”
“Shower.”
“Oh. Okay.”
You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on.
As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside.
Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?”
Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.”
That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.
And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap.
He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off?
Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.”
Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—”
“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those?
Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, doll.”
“Are you sure?”
“Promise.”
And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release.
There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too.
But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever.
“You got hurt cus I said to play.”
“Nope.”
“I wore the outfit that day.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“And lost my friends at the club.”
“No.”
Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have,
“How about we share it.”
Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.”
“Okay.”
After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.”
A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.”
His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain.
Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.”
“Duh.”
He’s himself again.
And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too.
That’s all you both need to feel peace.
-
-
You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head.
But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed.
Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head.
“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”
Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.
In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—”
Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.”
Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…”
Scroll, scroll.
“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?”
Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again.
Scroll, scroll.
“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”
“I love you.”
Time bursts.
Your chest glows.
Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion.
And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?”
You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door.
His eyes.
Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms.
No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance.
“I love you, doll.”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do.
Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe?
No.
Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters.
“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.”
What?
“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—”
You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you.
And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,
“Goddamn it, I—”
“Yoongi—”
“—so fucking much.”
Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue.
Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay.
He loves you.
Fuck, he loves you?
You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.
He loves you.
Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?
Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man.
There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything.
“Yoongi, I—”
He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”
Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.”
“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.”
After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.”
There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself.
“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.”
“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall.
None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.
When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides.
And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.
His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts.
“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.
“Knew what?”
“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”
You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?”
“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.”
Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.”
“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—”
“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes.
Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?”
“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.”
Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?”
Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.
Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.”
Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.”
“I want what you want, doll.”
“Then it’s okay.”
Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him.
But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give.
When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined.
And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking.
“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again.
His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two.
As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside.
“Holy fucking shit.”
“Yoongi—”
“Fuck.”
Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come.
No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too.
Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?”
And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.”
You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.”
“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.”
“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.”
Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.”
“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it.
“You’re a little too perfect right now.”
Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.
“You are.”
“Nowhere close,” you whisper.
His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”
“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”
His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?”
“What—”
Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?”
Again.
You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”
You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?”
Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.”
“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.”
The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire.
And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything.
“Taking me so well like this.”
“I—”
“So fucking tight.”
Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.”
Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you.
“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want.
Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!”
“Uh uh.”
“Please—please—”
You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful.
Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion.
And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists.
“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—”
“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut.
Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles.
You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.”
He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down.
Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel.
“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.”
Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?”
But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised.
As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.”
Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper.
And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.”
“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.”
“A secret?”
“Mmhmm.”
Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.”
Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.”
When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened.
“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.”
His eyes hold the heavens and the seas.
You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.
You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.
Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you.
All of you.
Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?
You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.
Every single stop.
It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world.
Swelling, you already feel close.
But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble.
This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi.
And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.
Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again.
How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.
“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.
Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep.
“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again.
Does he want what you want? Is he ready again?
As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times.
When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”
“Oh, I already know.”
“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”
You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”
Yoongi only grins.
And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.
Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence.
No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found.
After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning.
Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection.
“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t wanna lose you.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.”
When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.”
Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest.
After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out,
“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.”
Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer.
“Babe?”
No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet.
Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”
If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”
You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough.
Never close enough.
His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.
“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”
It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—
“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.”
When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”
“Yoongi…”
“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”
“Then… Those three months…”
“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.”
Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?”
“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”
Oh. That’s news to you.
“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.”
“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”
“What would’ve.”
“That I wanted you all to myself.”
“You already have that.”
When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”
Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”
The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”
“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”
“What if he does?”
You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”
Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”
“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?”
“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?”
Oh. Wait. “What?”
Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”
Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that.
Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops.
“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”
Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there.
And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.”
Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion,
“We’ll make it as many as we can.”
You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift.
Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.
Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same.
Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.
He loves you?
You still can’t accept that as fact.
…Maybe one day.
You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”
It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”
Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”
“Lies.”
“How much are you betting, doll.”
“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”
“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.”
“You did threaten to kick me out before.”
“Huh? When?”
“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.”
The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!”
He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.”
“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.”
“You love it.”
“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.”
“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.”
“Guess what.”
Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again.
But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours.
Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many.
Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home?
As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?”
At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.”
Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet.
When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.”
“I can!”
Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.”
His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin.
This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony.
And it hurts. It really, really hurts.
Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”
After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”
You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same.
Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”
Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret.
You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.”
…What?
No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—
“I wanna do this the right way.”
Oh.
Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking.
Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?”
When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.”
Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…
Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself.
When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.
And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.
“I’ll tell him everything.”
-
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tbc. :)
-
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a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it!
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BAD INFLUENCE・｡♪ LN4 [+ OP81]
( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri)
READ PART 2!
IN WHICH. getting high was never on oscar's roster. getting high and enjoying it with y/n and lando wasn't either, but that just makes it much more... exciting. (based on this ask)
WARNINGS. 16+, suggestive content, drug use (as per), high hotness pt 875443, oscar cameo (woop woop 🥳), make outs, first time getting high, oscar being whipped for lando and y/n? wbk, a bit of mxm content between drivers, shotgunning coz it's my most favourite thing ever
NOTE. LANDOSCAR!! this may probably be my favourite fic and is my longest so im looking forward to you guys reading it!!! well overdue in my humblest opinion, but i delivered hehe. enjoy my luvs and a very happy new year in advance mwah mwah mwah 😚😚 i appreciate all of you readers, thank you for all your support 💓💓💓
SIDENOTE. my askbox is now closed for requests 🤍
‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu (use askbox above if you'd like to be added!)
frankly speaking, a 'you up?' text from oscar piastri, whose entire persona was an antithesis of what that type of message usually pertained to, isn't something lando was expecting at 1am after a tedious race weekend. knows oscar to be one who sleeps in too early, as if his circadian rhythm was built upon the foundation of a restrictive curfew, and even fathoming the fact that he is awake past 12 is rather peculiar.
yet, with the mutually pre-established sense that lando would be awake (he's probably an insomniac, but it's not too concerning for him to actually check), and that oscar was asking if he was just for the sake of, most likely because he's, unusually, unable to sleep, lando replies with much sluggish vim.
fingers moving as if they played in a dream, he's able to reply with 'yh, why????' and sends it off before throwing his phone on the bed. he thinks, if he's sober, he would care more that this is oscar!!!! who is normally adamant about getting sleep!!! and not looking more sleep deprived than his naturally downturned eyes already make he seem to be!!!! but his mind feels like gooey viscous, and he counts about 3,000 peaks and troughs of the popcorn ceiling above before losing count and seeking solace in the spliff that burns his throat like a madman. he ponders if he's going crazy.
it's not long after that the undulating, monotonous buzz from his phone tickles his skin and with a sigh he goes to reply. and as he does so, his girlfriend, curiosity piqued, perks up from the foot of the bed.
"who's texting you this late?"
she looks ridiculously amusing: head hanging off the edge, loose and completely yielding like a dead body, and the only thing that reassures lando of her consciousness is the occasion movement of her arm to take another drag.
he wedges the joint between his reddened lips, lips curling awkwardly to speak, "piastri. dunno what he wants th- oh shit."
he's never felt such a sinking, crippling feeling of his high escaping him like a broken dam before. it's weirdly chilling, and for a good second, he feels brightly and vividly sober again. the texts just... stare at him and he almost wants to hurl his phone at the wall and watch it rain a litany of debris.
osc: just... forgot to give you back your stuff that i borrowed
osc: found some green leaf stuff in it lol im a bit concerned
lando's read it so many times, he's more than certain he knows just how many letters it consists of. fingers hover above the keyboard but it looks like they're weirdly swimming in air as he debates just what to write, and y/n is suddenly hissing his name, having sat up.
"— lan'! fucking hell, what happened?"
he moves on autpilot, back resting up the headboard, "he's found my weed."
y/n— y/n snorts. she sighs, moves back to her original pose, and lando's brain feels like static.
"love, i thought it would be worse."
lando splutters, "worse? babe, this is already bad! he could tell management for all i know." the mere thought of that makes lando's mind congeal. nevertheless, high out of his wits, he thinks he would somehow find a way to continue even if he was implored to stop.
she's disagreeing and laughing, and lando doesn't know what to make of it.
"nah, you're good. oscar wouldn't tell a soul," it's silent as he sees a burst of smoke ascend from the edge of the mattress, "tell him to bring it over."
lando fights with himself in his head. it's hilarious, really, watching his face morph from one emotion to another, and after 5 minutes with no whooshing affirmative of a message being sent, y/n exhales.
the bed curves in as she crawls up towards lando, before plucking the phone from his grip.
"it's really not that deep, lan'," her voice feels like cotton in his ears, "oscar isn't like that."
her fingers fly across the keyboard, how she does so in her inebriated state, lando has no clue, and just as quickly as she snatched the phone, she's sliding it back between his fingers.
"how— how do you know that?"
all presumptions, really, lando thinks. they may be good friends, him and oscar, but they've still got many, many steps to go before he's reassured that the other wouldn't go running his mouth to management because he found *fucking weed* in his bag.
the little voice at the back of his mind seeths, 'you shouldn't be smoking anyway', but he ignores it. what the hell does it know?
y/n goes to straddle him, crotch digging into his. its a soft wave of pleasure that oozes from the pressure, and lando lets a small moan mix with the puff of smoke he blows out. they would've fucked if only his limbs didn't feel like they've been detached and re-stitched; maybe they'd end the night with a lazy ride.
his girlfriend smirks, all cunning and undeniably hot, sucking in as much smoke as she can before blowing it all on his face. if anybody else had done this, he'd turn feral, but there's something alluring when y/n's exhale tickles his skin like feathers.
"how do i know? well, oscar, he kinda reminds me of you—" lando interrupts with a raised brow and a questioning stare, but y/n proceeds, "both of you are- you were- itching for a release. him not as much as you, but i still see it."
and lando can't really deny that, because he sees it too. in the way oscar's eyes seem to dart with dreaded uncertainty, and the way his shoulders are always up and tense, as if he has been tied like a puppet.
"that's what i call 'destined to get high'," y/n banters. it makes lando snort and roll his eyes (ultimately omitting to dwell on the sliver of seriousness that leaks through).
"dunno why you're rolling your eyes, you were basically begging me to give you a spliff," y/n taunts, and even though he groans at the reminiscence, he doesn't deny it. doing so would be like calling himself michael schumacher.
"yeah, whatever," he takes a lazy drag, a hand sliding up and down y/n's thigh, "at least i'm sexy when getting stoned."
y/n cackles, dissolving into a small giggle as she twirls her fingers through lando's curls; she never wants to let him go.
"damn right, baby."
another ping sounds from lando's phone, and subconsciously, his hands snakes to get it.
when he turns it on, he doesn't think he can be gobsmacked with such intensity twice in a day.
landooo: yh just bring it over
landooo: you can join us if you'd like
landooo: 😉
osc: uhm sure..
"y/n."
-.-.-.-.-
weed.
he'll be fucking damned.
the laugh that is punched out of him is one of disbelief, and, quite frankly, sheer horror.
he'd only wanted to borrow some shaving cream, after all, he's not one to favour the prickly itch of stubble. and in perfect, restless lando fashion, he was given the whole essentials bag and tasked with finding it himself.
which then leads him to now, palm burning with the weight of three spliffs that had somehow tumbled out of a flat metal tin.
he stares at them for so long that he might as well have burned holes into them (ironic), and in a flurry of movement, he's stuffing everything back into the bag, zipping it closed. if he doesn't see it, then he doesn't know it's there. cool.
but he's just standing, in the middle of his hotel room, completely clueless and delirious. he doesn't know how many times he wipes perspiration off his palms and onto his shorts, neither does he know how he's able to text lando about his findings.
originally, he thought that sending the infamous, suggestively connotated 'you up?' would've trimmed a bit of the tension away, yet it seems like lando, without fail, waters the situation with a fuck-ton more.
"'join us'? fucking hell."
oscar feels absolutely scorched from the wisps of his hair to the tips of his toes, and a spark of something curls in his gut.
no, absolutely not.
it's- he flips his watch to check the time- one am for fuck's sake, and lando's— getting high. smoking weed. [most likely] with his girlfriend.
whatever it is that makes his gut its abode curls even more as he shoves his feet into the nearest shoes he can find, and tames his hair in the mirror by the doorway. finding the night already too hard to bare, he doesn't dwell on what he'd done, and heads off to lando's room with sickening anticipation swirling within the grooves of his skin.
the walk is only a few seconds long, and oscar curses the fact that they weren't roomed further apart (impractical in usual circumstances, but the current predicament is anything but usual). he guesses he stands there, navy blue wash bag clutched in a vice grip, for many minutes (his concept of time tonight is royally fucked— how has he stayed up this late?) before he musters up some courage to knock on the door. in the quietude of the night, the sound is magnified to the point where he winces and hopes that no one else on their floor wakes up.
he hears a quiet rustle from behind the door, sighs for the umpteenth time that day (honestly, he could have a smoke for himself to- no.) before it's swiftly open.
y/n stands there, no sign of a spliff in sight, but her heavy lidded red eyes (that must hurt, right?) and the pungent smell of weed is enough to tell.
"ah, golden boy is here," y/n's grinning, as much as she can do without it looking robotic, and oscar blushes.
"g-golden boy?"
"i said what i said," she opens the door wider, and oscar's vision catches a limp leg hanging off the side of the bed, "you coming in or what?"
he's never been in such a mind-tearing crossroad before. wants to be reasonable and say no, afterall his job is on the line here (just because lando hasn't been caught, doesn't mean he won't, too). but then he's thinking that he's played angel's advocate for too long, and, as if the universe wants to commit a double homicide, lando is walking over, countenance lackadaisical and bends down as he wraps his arms around her waist.
he asks for forgiveness, because such a temptation before him is completely unforgiving , and oscar finds his vascillations come to an end the second he makes eye contact with his teammate.
it's then he realises that the something that had been driving his intestines mad was sheer want, and, having a mind of their own, his feet shuffle into the room, decision finalised by the click of the door shutting behind him.
he just hopes he doesn't regret this is in the morning.
the couple, with eased familiarity, move back to the bed, leaving oscar standing there, lost and expecting. lando regains possession of the spliff, back flat against the bed and arm bent behind his head.
he's turning to oscar, several beats later, with a heated look that just pulls the australian right in.
"put the bag down, osc," he's demanding— oh fuck, "and come over here."
oscar feels rather mortified at the effect lando's assertiveness has on him. his heart curdles, drips away like goo, and he can't think straight.
toes off his shoes, sliding them out of the way with his foot, before dumping the bag on lando's luggage and tentatively making his way to the bed.
it's excruciatingly daunting, must he say, and he's sure it's blatant because y/n is grinning softly and beckoning him closer with the wave of a hand.
"you're good, oscar."
then he's fully on the bed, a thin sheen of gray blurring his vision and the stench of smoke so thick, he could get high off it alone.
lando's splayed in front of him, watching intensely as his fingers accomodate a joint between them, and y/n's at his side, right at the foot of the bed, fiddling with a metal tin of her own.
he wonders just how long they've been doing this for.
"for me, since i was 18/19 maybe. lando started about a year ago."
oscar's brain fucking spasms.
his head whips to y/n, then back to lando, who just smiles and takes another drag, "a year?!"
the girl beside him giggles, turning back to him with a freshly rolled spliff of his own, "yeah. practically drooling to take a hit."
his teammate groans, dragging a hand down his face before sitting up, they seem to go through this ordeal once or twice before.
before he can question any more, y/n points the joint at him, "you sure you want to do this?"
funny, he's asking himself this. has been ever since he read the proposition that lando (y/n) had sent, and he had replied with a seemingly confused 'sure'. heat feels like a thousands ants crawling up his body, and the silence is even worse because he's certain his ears are filled with cement.
"am i— am i gonna get addicted to... this?"
lando shakes his head just as y/n shrugs, "depends, love. if you've got good enough self control and don't rely on it too much, you'll be fine."
oscar gives a sigh of relief, but turns tense again as he looks at lando. almost telepathically, he knows what oscar is thinking.
"no osc, i'm not hooked on this. i only do it every couple of weeks or so."
his hands raise up in defense, "just asking, mate."
"and you have every right to, baby," y/n says, then scoops his hand into her grip and puts the spliff in his hand, "now take this and let lando teach you."
oscar doesn't know what to do with it. he just stares at the green stick in his hand and wills up some courage to look back up at lando. for the first time in 22 years, he's going to experience what it's like to get high, and the excitement that crawls up his spine is chilling.
"take this," lando pushes a bottle of water into his hands, and oscar looks at it in confusion.
"it's your first time, so it'll probably make you cough a ton. drinking water helps."
oscar nods, gently taking and unscrewing it open. he gulps it down like a starved animal, and almost chokes when he notices his teammates girlfriend staring bullets into his face. his heart jumps and he stops drinking.
"now put the spliff in your mouth and let me light it for you."
oscar does so, feeling the weight of the rolled joint between his lips is completely maddening.
his teammate fishes a black lighter from the bedside table, then scooches closer to oscar's crossed legs. lando's body is like a furnace of drunken heat, and it only gets worse when his hand lands right on oscar's bare thigh.
it feels perfect and oscar thinks he's surfing on the waves of euphoria already.
"this good?" lando questions his touch, and oscar doesn't waste time to nod, "alright— when i light it, you're gonna try and inhale as much as you can. don't let it stay in your throat or you're gonna cough."
oscar bobs his head affirmatively.
"if you can't, just take it in small amounts, not too much that it hits your throat."
then lando's leaning in, flame swaying from the lighter, and oscar's eyebrows scrunch as he follows it closer and closer to the spliff.
it's instaneous, the heat that fills his mouth, and in a hurried succession, oscar is inhaling and spluttering like a madman. his eyes are burning, they may already be red at this point, and his nose feels ripped off.
"take it easy, love," a hand- y/n's- rests upon his back and he finds himself needing composure, and not only from his failed attempt to smoke.
"wow uh that was— uhm..."
lando rubs his thigh, with the intention to comfort, but oscar finds himself more pent up than before. the weed is already kicking in and his mind feels chopped into pieces and mixed with cake batter, and every touch feels like a punch.
"you good to go again?" lando queries. oscar nods, his throat feeling too rough to speak up, "okay then, take your time and calm yourself down. small intakes, yeah?"
the spliff goes back between his lips, and with lando watching him like he's the best movie he's ever seen, he's sucking in the smoke cautiously and— fuck, it feels so so good. he's unravelled everywhere, not a kink left in his joint nor a knot remaining in his muscles, and when he breathes the smoke out, he lets his head fall back with a smile on his face.
"there you go," lando's voice sounds loose and airy in his mind, and oscar finds himself loving it.
"look at him, babe," y/n chimes from beside him, and his head rolls to give her an inebriated grin, "told you he was meant for it."
lando hums, agreeing, from in front of him, "gonna shotgun with him."
whatever that is, y/n is eager to see it happen, and oscar gives lando a confused look. it only evokes a cute grin from the other, who plucks the spliff from oscar's fingers.
"i'll take a hit and blow it in your mouth, if that's cool with you."
and— oscar moans involuntarily. he doesn't know where it comes from but it's practically punched out of him with how loud it is, and lando smirks widely. all oscar can do is watch as he fills his mouth with smoke and shuffles closer to him. his heart palpitates, beating like a drum piece, and his skin is damp and flushed from the intensity of it all.
lando assesses oscar's decision, confirming his consent as he nods, and slowly, lando snakes an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. oscar is compliant, body wanting and downright desperate, mouth opening on autopilot.
the second lando's lips attach to his and the smoke is pushed into his mouth, oscar fucking loses it. his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he's grabbing lando's hair and pushing his mouth deeper.
he's kissing his teammate with all he has to give, and lando— he's reciprocating it, lips hungry on oscar's, biting and licking everywhere. for a second, oscar can't think about anything, mind filled with just lando, as his tongue slips in and turns the kiss filthy.
oscar hasn't made out with anyone with such ferocity. he's encompassed in scorching heat, and the euphoria just gets better as lando trails his lips down his neck. the bites and licks are inclement, and oscar's sure there'd be marks tomorrow, angry and purple, but right now, he doesn't care. not when lando's hands creep up his shirt, and run up his torso, resting upon his nipples and twirling them around his fingers.
"oh fuck, lando," his moan is so high pitched it sounds foreign and it's almost hard for him to believe that it comes from him. but he's sure it does, because another is forced out as soft hand turns his head to the side and there's another set of lips on his in an instant.
he thinks he could hooked on y/n's kisses, warm, wet and so fucking sensual, he feels worshipped. not an inch of skin is missed by her tongue, and with every drag of her lips against his, he's concluding that this would be the perfect way to die.
oscar's so hard in his jeans from lando's stimulation, y/n's kisses, and the heightened sensation of everything from the weed, that he almost cums in his shorts. he can only imagine how plump it could be, and how a mouth on it would have him sobbing for days.
but he doesn't have to, because lando creeps a hand to his crotch and squeezes. the whine that leaves oscars mouth and into his teammate's girlfriend's is criminal.
"gonna suck you off so good, osc," lando moans in his ear, breath warm and words dirty, "you like that?"
and as oscar begs him to, he thinks that maybe getting high with lando and y/n isn't so bad afterall.
#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando#lando norris#oscar piastri#lando norris smut#lando norris fic#lando norris x y/n#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#lando norris scenarios#oscar piastri fic#formula 1#f1#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#f1 smut
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assistant to the dm, steve harrington
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'secretly studying nerd shit'
rated t | 1,361 words | cw: mild language | tags: friends to lovers, getting together, d&d references (could be inaccurate since i don't actually play), banter that's also flirting
🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉
"I just don't understand why you needed to borrow my character sheets. You don't even know what most of this means," Dustin said as he handed over the papers.
"I just need to see something," Steve replied, taking the papers and adding it to his mess of a kitchen table. Other character sheets were strewn all over, most filled out, but some empty. A couple of books were open on random pages, recognizable images of weapons and monsters visible to anyone who walked by.
"Why does it look like you're studying for a college degree in D&D?" Dustin asked.
Steve looked up at him, eyes blank, mouth in a straight line. "Because I finally got accepted to Indiana State. Go away."
"Fine! I want those sheets back though!" Dustin said as he left Steve to his studying.
Hours must have passed, the light outside turning to dusk before Steve thought to take a break. His head hurt, his vision was blurry, and he didn't feel any closer to understanding a god damn thing.
He thunked his head against the table, letting out pained groan as his head throbbed.
"Are you looking for something or have you decided to finally play with us?" Eddie's voice said directly behind him, making him nearly fall out of his seat. "Shit, sorry. Thought you heard me come in."
Eddie's hands were on Steve's arms, squeezing, centering.
Like he knew exactly what he needed to lose the slight hint of remaining panic left in his chest.
"I was just trying to figure out if there actual dragons in this game or if that was also made up," Steve said, sitting back and putting distance between them. He couldn't breathe when Eddie was touching him, which was often. He was starting to worry about oxygen deprivation to his brain. "Disappointed to find out the dungeons part seems like it's up to the DM."
"The whole thing is pretty made up, Stevie. That's the point," Eddie smirked, but it fell away when Steve turned back to the messy table. "Are you, like, wanting to play?"
And this is why he wanted to keep it a secret. Maybe he shouldn't have had everything spread out in the open like this, but he'd assumed he was safe in his own home. With the door locked. And with Eddie supposedly playing the Hideout tonight.
He looked back at Eddie. "Why are you here?"
"Dustin said something about you not answering the phone after he left hours ago and you seemed pissed off or something," Eddie shrugged. "Just wanted to check on you."
"The phone? It didn't ring." Steve didn't think so anyway. He had admittedly tuned his surroundings out entirely once Dustin was gone. "But it's Tuesday."
"Uh huh. It is Tuesday. How long have you been sitting at this table?"
"Ha. Funny." Steve rolled his eyes. "You play the Hideout Tuesdays. Tuesdays are for Corroded Coffin, Wednesdays are for dinner with Wayne, and Thursdays are Hellfire."
Eddie blinked at him. "Yes, usually that's true. But, wait. Sorry. You have my schedule memorized?"
"I mean, some of it, yeah. The parts where I know you won't be nearby or easily reached."
Steve knew it was ridiculous, but how the hell could he make sure he was safe if he didn't even know what Eddie was doing?
Eddie looked like he wanted to say something else about it, but must have changed his mind. He pulled out the chair next to Steve, turned it towards him, and sat down.
"So you've been studying this stuff for..." Eddie leaned in, eyebrows raised in silent question.
"I dunno. A few weeks. I didn't have most of the sheets until a couple days ago though," Steve gestured towards the papers spread out. "I still don't really get it."
"You've been studying for weeks? Stevie, why didn't you just ask me or any of the kids to help explain it?" Eddie almost sounded hurt. "I've been playing for half my life! And I've been a DM for half of that!"
Truthfully, Steve was trying to learn so he could have conversations with Eddie about the stuff he liked. That was basically lesson number one on how to get someone to like you, and Steve had already tried the music thing and failed.
He just wasn't that into the echo of loud guitars and angry drums.
He couldn't exactly ask Eddie to teach him everything and then turn around and try to use what he taught him to flirt with him. That was lame and embarrassing.
"Steve?" Eddie had his hand on Steve's leg, leaning in further towards Steve. He must've been trying to get Steve's attention while he was lost in thought. "I'm kidding. I mean, I wish you'd said something sooner, but if this is how you get into it, I'm not gonna stop you."
"I just wanted to surprise you."
Steve could hear how pitiful that sounded, could hear the whine in his voice that he wasn't able to pull his plan off. As if Eddie would even care! Eddie was the most easygoing, laidback, chaotic person he'd ever met. He would just be happy to have someone else in his little club.
"Surprise me? For what?"
He was also incredibly slow when it came to feelings.
"Because I want to spend more time with you! Because I like you! Because I want you to like me!" Steve tried not to sound frustrated, but his headache was turning into a real problem, and he was tired, and sick of hiding things. Robin told him to just be honest, so he was. "I wanted to surprise you the next time Hellfire was here and have all this knowledge, but it's hard! I don't even know how you keep up with most of this, let alone all the characters? There's like...at least 800 options for how to use weapons and spells. I can't even remember half the races or classes or whatever. I don't even know if those are the same thing. And I keep getting distracted thinking about how you look when you stand at the end of the table and do one of those stupid accents."
"Are they stupid if they're this distracting?" Eddie was smirking, suddenly more confident than Steve had maybe ever seen him.
"They are stupid. That's why it's distracting. And I'm stupid for letting it get to me!" Steve leaned forward, put his head on Eddie's shoulder. The angle wasn't the best, but he didn't care. "You get to me so bad, Munson."
"You're kinda easy to get to, Harrington." Eddie's lips briefly pressed against the side of Steve's head. "Been waiting for you to catch up."
"What do you mean?" Steve pulled away. "I've been trying to get you to realize for months!"
"You came to one show at the Hideout. I think Robin's been to more shows and she's a lesbian."
"She told you?!"
"Steve, she spilled every secret she's ever had when she kept me company in the hospital. I think I know things you don't even know."
Steve let his head fall down against Eddie's shoulder again. "I should've known you were teaming up."
"I wouldn't call it that. She just wanted to look out for us," Eddie's hand cupped the back of Steve's head. "So what did you learn?"
"Probably nothing useful."
"Well, it's easier to be an active learner. I could use an assistant on Thursday if you want some hands on experience," Eddie's fingers scratched at Steve's scalp, melting his brain and making him feel like he was completely weightless. "If you just wanna watch, that can be arranged too."
"You don't let people watch," Steve mumbled against his shoulder, his weight sagging against Eddie.
"I think I can bend my own rule for my boyfriend, right?" Steve could feel Eddie's heartbeat quickening beneath his ear.
His face felt warm as he realized what Eddie was implying. "Only if your boyfriend can sit next to you."
"I think that can be arranged."
"Oh, and I'd like to trap Dustin's character."
Eddie snorted, kissed Steve's head again. "That can be arranged, too."
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could you IMAGINE bakugou having a gf whos a teacher?? but not just any teacher, nono. a KINDERGARTEN TEACHER.
lowkey when he sees u teaching a kid abt counting apples or something, he will think abt having children with you. just seeing you being so gentle nd sweet with little brats munchkins turns his brain into mush.
on one particular day, he went into your classroom wearing his hero costume for a little q/a type thing. everyone was so impressed just by looking at him, even if they didn't know who he was. they were all sat whispering to their friends at small desks as bakugou's large figure just strutted in LOL.
you give him a tiny little peck when he walked into the classroom, to which some kids let out "ooo"s and snickered. you clapped your hands together. "okay boys and girls, let's walk over to the magic carpet for circle time!" you led bakugou with you to the large rug where two chairs were set.
the kids were all sat in a circle, excitedly waiting to talk to the number two hero!! bakugou sat down somewhat awkwardly as for the first time in a while, he was a teeeensy bit nervous for whatever reason. "today we have a special guest joining us for circle time! does anyone know who he is?" you grinned as you saw many hands go up.
"yes, ryu?" you picked on an adorable little boy in the center. "that's mr. dynamite from the news!" he yelled.
"that's right, ryu! but let's use our inside voices, please." you smiled. "does anyone know what mr. dynamite does?" you questioned again. one little girl was squirming in her seat, hand held high. "go ahead, kanako." you nodded to the girl who sat up straighter upon being called on.
"he saves people, l/n-sensei!"
"damn right i do." bakugou smirked pridefully. you lightly nudged his shoulder. "no cursing." you whispered. he rolled his eyes but listened nonetheless. "okay, starting from this side of the rug," you pointed to the left. "you can ask anything you want to the hero, as long as you are kind. and if you don't have a question just say 'pass' and we'll go straight to the next person." you announced. all the children nodded in unison.
"start us off, please." you handed the 'talking mic' to the first kid. "mr. dynamite sir, where are your blasters?" he curiously turned his head to the side. "huh?-" bakugou looked down at his hands. "my gauntlets? left those guys at work. they're too powerful to be here." he answered.
the punks students continued to ask their questions and bakugou replied calmly like this was an everyday event. "you're big." a boy stated. bakugou quirked a brow. that's all this brat had to say? "i know." he replied nonchalantly. "why?" the kid blinked, keeping a straight face.
"uh, why?? i dunno, kid. jus' the way i am." he shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. the kid folded his arms and moved to sit on his knees. "it's my turn now.." a quiet girl next to him tapped on his shoulder, reaching out for the mic. the boy stuck out his tongue at her before turning away to look at bakugou again. "thas' not a real answer."
"kenji, that wasn't kind. you had your turn, now please give the mic to haru." you frowned. haru's eyes turned glossy and her lip began to quiver, but kenji still wasn't letting up. "thas' not fair, sensei!" kenji whined.
"hold it, kid." bakugou stepped in. kenji's attention turned to bakugou, an angry pout written all over his face. "ya ask me sum dumb question," he began. oh gosh, a dumb question? he's not wrong, but he can't say that to a 5 year old! "katsuki." you muttered, trying to get him to stop. but he kept going anyway.
"but i answered it, right? y'r not being a team player to y'r classmate, buddy." bakugou finished, waiting to see what would happen next. the room fell silent. kenji had listened, handed the microphone to haru. he was still upset though, everyone could see it.
"one minute, haru. kenji," you called out. the boy looked up with fat tears in his eyes. "is there something you want to say to your friend?" kenji wiped his eyes with the back of sleeve and mumbled "sorry." to haru. "is okay." haru accepted happily with a toothy grin.
bakugou leaned back in his chair, feeling satisfied with himself as the questions continued. huh, who knew right? you could get used to this.
when the period was over, bakugou waved goodbye to all the kids. however, he bent down in front of kenji and put his fist out. although the child was still somewhat annoyed, he couldn't hold in his grin as he fist bumped a pro hero. "let's all say 'thank you' to, mr. dynamite!" you stood up from your chair, folding your hands together.
"thank you, mr. dynamite!!"
bakugou kissed your cheek and walked to the door with you following behind. you opened the door and he adjusted his mask quickly. he ruffled your hair. "see ya at home, babe."
a/n: literally so rushed im so sorry i just had this thought and i had to get it out. will for sure be coming back to this later :D
#bakugou#bakugo#katsuki#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugou#h3artands0ul#drabble#thoughts#bakugou x reader#kindergarten teacher#reader#y/n#teacher au#sensei#dynamite#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha#bnha#mha x reader#bhna x reader#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#𝓴𝓪𝓽𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓲 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾
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" MOVIE NIGHT GONE WRONG. "
starring! : mikey + fem!reader, and kazutora, draken, baji, chifuyu
warnings! : exhibition, sex tape, fingering, finger sucking, choking, FWB, college!AU, basically cheating? (draken), squirting, implied gangbang at the end, readers skin color is not mentioned, mdni, not proofread
summary! : mikey invited the boys to a movie night, but as he was gone to pick you up, they accidentally stumbled opon a camera.
"Movie night gone right" pt.2
Right after mikeys bike engine roared from outside and slowly got more silent until it was completely gone, the guys just sat on mikeys couch and on the floor, bored.
Kazutora sat down on the floor with one of mikeys pillows and suddenly spotted a video camera, obviously from the late 2000s and a bright smile beamed on his face as he took it in his hands.
"Look what I found, guys" he announced opening the display of the cam "why would mikey have that?" Draken asked himself outloud with a raised eyebrow, to which kazutora shrugged "I dunno but I'm dying to see what he filmed on this."
Chifuyu looked a bit uncomfortable with that idea "I don't know man, maybe there's some personal shit on there" baji just scoffed, "then I just wanna see it more" he laughed. Kazutora looked at draken to see if he wanted to he it too.
Draken sighed and stretched his arms "sure, why not."
Kazutora and baji then cheered before baji encouraged him to connect the camera with the TV, which he had some trouble with since he didn't find the cable at first for it, but after he did find it he didn't waste a single second to plug it in
A video immediately started of mikeys feet as he walked, before the shot lifted to reveal you in pretty heels and a cute sundress skipping infront of him, mikey giggled behind the camera "cute" he said. You then turned around to which the guys perked up.
"She's still pretty even on a shitty camera" baji mentioned.
The tape continued with you laughing happily and smiling at the camera "you gotta say hi to the camera." Mikey told you, to which you just giggled and then waved your pretty long nailed fingers at the camera "hiiii!"
All of the guys had a tiny smile on their face at your cute gesture.
But then the video stopped, and another started up. It was you again. On mikeys couch, stretching your gorgeous legs while reading a magazine. You were wearing a mini skirt and a crop top, mikey kept filming your legs and the how graceful they looked.
It started to feel like...there was some tension in the air now. Kazutora couldn't take his eyes off the screen, admiring your pretty legs and your gorgeous heels. It was no secret that tora had the miggest crush on you, so seeing this put him in a trance. But it didn't just affect him, of course. you were beautiful and cute, and it was hard not to crush on you at least a little bit. Even draken, though he'd never say it out loud.
"Stop filming my legs!" You playfully complained, closing you magazine and coming over to mikey, who was just giggling behind the camera as you came closer and closer to the camera, but then it shut off. And another video started, it was you kneeling on the floor looking up into the camera with your bright eyes and glossy lips "what?" You giggled, tilting your head. "You're pretty." Mikey said, and then it stopped again.
Chifuyu completely forgot about his feelings from earlier, now just focused on seeing more videos of you being pretty and happy.
Those videos continued, just sweet little snippets of mikey admiring you. They were surprised that mikey was so enamored with you, seeing such an "emotional" side of him was very alien to them. Watching these videos made the guys wonder if you two were a thing and they just didn't know about it.
"Come on, let's stop watchin' em" draken announced, waving his hand. But kazutora protested "just one more!" And before anyone could object he let the next one play.
This time you were in mikeys room again with you sitting on his couch as Mikey supposedly laid down on his bed. You were watching some show until you noticed mikey filming you again.
You smiled "what?" You asked cutely, "waiting for a performance" he casually said.
Draken and baji raised a curious eyebrow, "performance?" Baji asked, to which tora hushed him.
You giggled and turned your upper body to him, you smiled a little shyly then rolled your eyes "really? Again?" Assumingly mikey just nodded at your question.
At this point, the guys didn't see anything too weird about these videos until..
You suddenly grabbed the hem of your tank top and lifted it over your tits to flash the camera.
Kazutora and chifuyu let out an audible gasp, draken choked on his drink and bajis jaw just dropped in absolute shock.
"OKAY, OKAY TURN IT OFF!" Chifuyu yelled, pulling his arm over his eyes to shield himself from this privacy invasion. "NO WAY!!" Tora and baji yelled. They both should feel more disgusted or discomfort at you and mikey being.."intimate," but they were too focused on finally seeing your perky tits that teased them for years now.
The video continued and they could hear mikey giggle before the next video started. It was you again with your head on mikeys thigh as you were seated between them on the floor, and he was sitting on the couch, your beautiful eyes looked up into the camera. Your nails pressed softly into mikeys thigh as you tilted your head, then without a single word, mikeys hand cane down to caress your flushed cheek.
It was a cute and innocent enough gesture, until his thumb started caressing your bottom lip and you slowly opened your mouth to suck on it sensually.
"Fuck, she's like a pornstar.." kazutora mentioned, absolutely enamored with how pretty and sexy you looked doing such slutty activities. "She fuckin' does.." baji agreed, leaning more closely to the screen from his seat on the couch.
The video cut, and another immediately started.
This one just immediately started with your pretty moans and your face twisted in pleasure. It didn't take kazutora a second to get rock hard, and it wasn't any different for draken, baji or chifuyu. Hard as fuck.
"What a good girl.." Mikey said behind the camera as it panned down to reveal mikey's fingers slowly sliding in and out of your wet cunt, making obscene and sinful noises. Your clit looked so swollen, kazutora almost wanted to lick the screen.
You moaned so prettily again and you spread your legs further for mikey to get better access. His Fingers sped up and so did the wet squelching noises, your moans got more high pitched and louder "that's it." Mikey encouraged "cum for me.." your hips bucked into his touch as your eyes slightly rolled back and your bottom lip got caught between your teeth.
Baji gripped the blanked next to him, imagining how soft your skin would feel against his own, how tight your pussy would feel around his fingers.
Draken had his fingers on his temple, pretending to not like what he was seeing, and he shouldn't. Especially since he had a girlfriend. But fuck he's just a guy, and you're getting fingers by his best friend. Letting out the prettiest noises he'd ever heard..
Your head tipped back and you covered your mouth as a sticky liquid squirted out of your weeping cunt. "Fuck yeah..good girl, good girl" mikey huffed, fingering you even faster.
Chifuyu gasped as he gripped the pillow impossibly tighter over his crotch, he'd seen a lot of porn but none of them were as good as what he was seeing right there, right now. You were so pretty and he felt like he would die if he didn't jerk off right now.
Kazutora bit his bottom lip desperately as he imagined what your hot and sticky fluids would taste like, he wanted to put his mouth on you so bad, he wanted to make you squirm and cry out as you grip his hair and grind your pussy on his face..
The video cut off again and then mikey was seen with you in a shot, it was assumingly propped up somewhere.
You were getting fucked sideways by mikey as his hands were on your thigh, holding it up, and on your tit as he was sucking on your nipple. "Mikey!" You moaned as your tits bounced with every thrust, the guys could see the bed completely soaked beneath you two "p-please- I can't anymore~" you whined. Mikeys hand gripped your thigh harder "fuck yeah, you can..just one more" the kissed your collarbone "fr' me.." he begged before going right back to suck on your tiddy.
Kazutora almost moaned when you turned your head to the camera eyes closed in bliss as his friend fucked you senseless.
Your moans got louder and baji could swear his mouth was filling up with drool, looking at your tits bounce and your cunt being fucked.
Mikey lifted himself up and put his hand on your throat, drakens eyes widened as you whimpered at this filthy action, his jeans felt so uncomfortably tight due to his painful erection straining against them. He couldn't contain his thoughts anymore, he would fuck you so hard with his big hand on your tiny throat.
Mikey thrusts become sloppy and harder as your moans suddenly stuttered. You were about to cum.
The men were so focused on the screen, awaiting your orgasm.
"We're hereee" mikey announced and the guys all jolted awake from their pussy trance and kazutora hastily and panicked and ripped the cable out of the TV, feeling his heart beat out of his throat when he saw your pretty self standing next to mikey after he just watched you getting fucked by him.
It didn't take long for mikey to see the guys all flushed hiding their crotches and, of course, the video cam.
Mikey just casually chuckled "they found our tapes" to which you gasped and looked at the man next to you "...the tapes?"
You looked back at the men, avoiding eye contact with you or mikey.
Mikey then looked at you and gave you a soft pat on your ass before you shyly bit your lip and walked over to the bed, you sat down...and spread your legs just enough for them to see you not wearing any panties...
Kazutora and chifuyu were about to have a heart attack with how fast their hearts were beating, baji felt like he was burning hot, he never felt this horny..
Draken really, really tried to not look at you or your half exposed pussy. But he did see it and then couldn't tear his eyes away from it.
"Did you like them..?" You suddenly asked, spreading your legs more as Mikey just grinned.
You looked at the camera and then back at the boys "maybe.." you lifted your skirt, exposing your naked cunt to them. "We could make a featured film.." kazutora kneeled and looked like a starved puppy, with his tongue almost hanging out of his mouth and his eyes wide open.
Someone would have to hold baji back if he got any hornier, cause he was about to just jump on you and ravage you.
"I can film everything" mikey said with a smug grin.
Was this planned?
#jojo writes#tokyo revengers smut#tr smut#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev smut#tokyo rev#mikey smut#manjiro smut#draken smut#baji smut#kazutora smut#chifuyu smut
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HEAR ME OUT!
nicks has a girl best friend and they are super affectionate with each other (hugs, "cuddling" on the couch, etc.) and later on her and chris start dating and thats how chris knows she loves affection and is super lovey dovey. nick comments about chris stealing his girl and funny things like that. something super fluffy and cute. please and thanks <3
xoxo
thank you sm for requests love <33
if you want me to rewrite it, just lmk bae!!
affection.
warnings: none
to my bff: @leah-loves-lilies
~
y/n snuggled into nick, pushing her head into his side and wrapping her legs around one of his, she wrapped her arms around his torso. nick chuckles as he wraps his arms around the girl currently cuddling into him.
he slides down the couch some to get a better hold on her and to get a bit more comfy from his previous sitting position.
y/n hummed in content and mumbled the the lyrics of an audio playing on nicks phone as she watched.
chris looked at them, from the kitchen he stared at how y/n cuddled into nick like a sloth, looking awfully comfortable just hugging his brother and mumbling words.
* • •
y/n hugged nick, maneuvering her arms under his and situating herself so she was somewhat standing between his legs but also infront of him as she hugged him.
pressing her cheek into him he put his hand on her back and rubbed, before going back to buttering his toast as they stood in the kitchen, simply hugging and enjoying one anothers presence, even if they weren’t talking as long as one was touching the other, even if in a small way like hand holding, leg brushing even the smallest touch made them happy.
nick rested his chin ontop of y/ns head, humming lyrics to himself, before patting y/ns back and mumbling “I have to move, y/n.”
y/n groaned but unlatched herself from him and moved to the counter behind them, leaning into it slightly, watching her bestfriend prepare a meal for himself.
chris was sat in a chair by the dinner table, watching the whole interaction go down.
his bottom lip fed inbetween his teeth, thinking about how y/n was so touchy with nick all the time and how she was almost never seen not touching nick.
it was very clear physical touch was her love language, but what would it take for her to touch him as much as she did nick.
hell, for all he knew she might’ve just liked touching nick and no one else, shes never held or cuddled into chris as often as she did with her bestfriend, nick, I mean, they were all bestfriends just y/n tended to touch nick more than the other two boys.
surely she hugged and occasionally cuddled matt or chris, but as chris let his thoughts wonder, he couldnt help but think about how much he fucking adored her, the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, how gentle she was, the way her hands gently grazed alongst someones (nicks) skin when they werent cuddling of some sort. she just always had to be touching someone, more nick than anyone else.
sometimes he likes to think its because nick accepts the affection every single time, and so shes learned that she can always go to him. and since that shes never tested the waters with chris — chris loved, loved physical touch. he liked touching people in ways to remind them he loved them, in a sense when he touched people it was some sort of comfort overtaking his senses knowing that they knew he loved them.
as chris’ thoughts wondered on and on, he couldnt help but ask “hey y/n, you always touch nick and tell him you love him so very often, but you almost never touch matt and i, why is that?”
y/n turned to look at chris, her lips twitching as she thought of what to say. “dunno, just like touching him. I guess ive never thought about touching- ew, I hate saying it like that. makes it sound weird, all like ‘im gonna touch you’” she giggled, before collecting herself from her soon to be rant. “ive just never thought about cuddling you and matt, ya know? never crossed my mind.”
chris hummed in response, letting his mind wander with what she had just said.
maybe he should start initiating affection aswell?
* • •
it was no doubt that chris had a crush on y/n, and y/n always noticed the stolen glances, the looks on her lips being far too long for friendly, the way his cheeks heated up when he saw or came into the same room as her.
y/n also liked him, she just hadnt noticed how much she made it obvious, but neither did chris so maybe they had it in common?
* • •
over the course of the few days chris and y/n became increasingly closer and closer, but their friendship ended one night, and something else bloomed.
chris mumbled something into the side of y/ns head, his words too muffled for y/n to understand.
she moved her head off his shoulder, loosening her arms from around his body.
“what?” she asked quietly, trying not to disturb the calm and quiet atmosphere they were currently in.
the soft sounds from the tv playing in the background, the lights off but red leds lighting the room.
“I said,” he took in a breath before continuing, “can I be your boyfriend please?” his voice suddenly got quiet, his eyes darting over y/ns face, looking for signs if she was confused, disgusted, concerned or any of the sort, but none present, only a growing grin on her face.
she fully removed herself off his body as joy was slowly but surely overtaking her emotions.
“yes! yes! yes!” she spoke, her hands coming to the sides of his face to pepper kisses all over it, not just his lips but everywhere else aswell.
chris’ stomach swelled with butterflies as he felt her soft kisses all over his face, the feeling of her soft lips on his skin and the words of approval making him grin aswell.
she pressed one last kiss on the tip of his nose before mumbling sweet nothings while moving back to his arms.
• • •
y/n stared at the two boys, nick and chris, currently sitting on the couch on their phones.
she debated on who she should sit and cuddle with, I already cuddled nick this morning. she thought to herself before finally taking in a breath and moving to crawl onto chris.
chris was laying on his back, leaving little space between him and the couch cushions, y/n absolutely loved sitting/laying in the small spots of the couches, because she knew she had better access to the person she was currently sitting with.
she crawled into the little space, moving onto her side and wrapping one arm under and around chris while her legs tangled in his and her head laid on his chest.
she moved slightly so now her belly was slightly ontop of chris’ hip. finding this position comfier she sighed and closed her eyes.
nick sat up, his phone at his side as he stared at the two. his mouth dropping and eyes widening.
“damn bro, you really stole my girl.” nick scoffed, looking at chris, watching as his arm came around to y/ns back, rubbing it, giving y/n all the more comfort.
“shut up, you had her all morninggg” chris groaned, dragging out the ‘g’ for dramatics.
“yeah, well, shes been my girl for months, shes only been yours for a week now.” nick crossed his arms, adding onto the fake/play arguing.
“shhh, im trying to sleep.” y/n mumbled, hushing them, before nuzzling her face further into chris side.
chris looked at nick and gave him a teasing look.
chris was so, so grateful nick was always so accepting of y/ns touches and her words consisting of endless compliments, “I love you”’s, and overall unintentionally showing chris just how much y/n loved showing her love to others.
1303 words.
tags
@luverboychris @luvsturns @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07
#sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo fluff#sturniolo triplets fluff#mollys requests
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HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER
YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD
MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME
requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)
with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
framed
pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader
summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.
word count: 1k
warnings: none
author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)
masterlist ⟡ requests
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”
“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”
Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth.
You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him.
But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.
“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.”
Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.
Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.
Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.
Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.
You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?
Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.
You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”
An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.
“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.
Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure.
When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words.
“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.
From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.
“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”
The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.
“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”
Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.
“Okay…?” you prompted.
“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”
Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.
“I… make you happy?” you clarified.
“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”
With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.
“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”
You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.
“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”
Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”
“It certainly did.”
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It's just an inchident | LN4
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Synopsis: you love dotting on Lando
Or
Lando doesn't appreciate you over-feeding him.
Warning(s): Takes place during the car crash at the Vegas GP. Lando is self-critical. Toothrooting fluff, isn't that what you call it? High Lando, don't ask me, but he gave me high vibes in those photos after the crash (hope he's feeling better tho. 🥹) Hints of reader being a foreigner (dunno if this should be put as a warning!)
Author's note: I don't know anything about health care or medical field, so just excuse my lame ass medical justifications. Also some of the comments mentioned in the Smau and the story line are 100% from real life.
"Oooh, yellow flag at turn 14"
"It's a red flag now."
"Is that an accident or .... oh it's an accident.
"Oooh my God. Is that Mclaren?... It's Norris."
"That's lando Norris. Oh my... what an ..."
You heart was beating so loudly in your chest as you kept monitoring the small screens closely waiting for Lando to get out.
Eyes wide, hands covering your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming as you looked at his engineer. "Is he okay?" His engineer was trying to reach him "Lando are you okay?" There was no answer for a few seconds. The cameras of the F1 monitoring your response to the accident closely. Just when you were about to lose it, take off your headset and run to the crash site, lando's mic started working. "I'm fine" you immediately looked back at the screen, not believing him because it showed; it was obvious in his voice that he was not fine, the way he grunted in pain and how his hand was shaking when using the buttons on the wheel of the car, all of it told you that he was not fine.
You were still frowning deeply when they replayed the moment the car was almost on fire and how he was trying his best, very quickly, to control the steering wheel, but in vain. You felt helpless watching as you tried to imagine the gravity of it and how he must be feeling right now.
"Y/n" you looked away from the screen about to ask them where Lando is, so you can go see him. "Y/n, they're going to take lando to the medical centre." You were about to panic even more when his engineer assured you. "It's just for check up, don't worry. They said he's fine. They just want to make sure," you nodded; however, this didn't calm you one bit. What if they checked and turns out there's actually something to worry about?
You grabbed your jacket and bag and headed to the hospital right away. His coach, Jon, went with you to the hospital. You were anxiously waiting in a room until they rolled lando on a bed into the room,with machines and wires attached to his upper body.
"Hey baby" he dragged the last syllable, which made you look at him funny then turn to the doctor. "Ugh, he's on some medications to get him relaxed,he was shaken up from the whole thing." You looked back at poor Lando to find him nodding in agreement with the doctor. "Okay, then I'll leave you to it, he shouldn't be staying for long anyways. We will keep him for like an hour maximum to make sure there are no side effects after the accident."
"Why does he look ... loopy?" You gently hit Jon's shoulder who chuckled lightly at your cute way of reprimanding him. You shook your head as you sat next to Lando. "Are you okay, baby?" He nodded looking up at you like a baby that needs attention. You chuckled at his behaviour he was definitely acting loopy.
"Does anywhere hurt?" You inquired trying to get him to talk. He nodded. Your face fell for a second, worried that the doctor might have missed something when checking on Lando. "Where?" You scanned the rest of his body quickly before looking back at him for an answer. "Here" he said pointing at his heart. You frowned in a are-you-serious-mannar that got Jon erupting in laughter at Lando's lack of awareness due to the meds. "Shut up!" You said shaking your head as you looked back at lando who was all pouty, yet had this look in eyes that was expecting something from you.
"No, lando. I am being serious." You held his hand while the other played with his hair which got his eyes fluttering a bit. "Is there anything that's hurting you?" You leaned into him whispering. He huffed in annoyance. "YES, yes there is. Your lack of affection is hurting me woman. Just give me a kiss and I'll feel better." You were surprised with his behaviour, what kind of meds did the doctor put him on?
Again you heard Jon try his best to supress a laugh, but you ignored him this time, rolling your eyes. You were really worried, usually when things like that happened during a race, Lando doesn't take it easy on himself and he jumps right away at any opportunity to criticise his performance;however, you were thankful that the meds have eased his nerves a bit for him to actually think about what happened. "Am I going to keep on waiting for too long?" The bratty side was starting to show which made you laugh.
"What are you laughing about?" He asked in amusement totally unaware of the presence of his coach in the room as well. "Nothing,... you're just ... I don't know. You're acting like a baby." You answered between fits of laughter. "Yeah, but I am your baby right?" His tone completely changed from sassy to worried which made you look at him in awe. You couldn't deny him any longer, honestly who would? You leaned into him slowly only to see him close his eyes really fast preparing for your kiss. This made you find difficulty in holding your laughter back, but lando has had enough so he pulled you in for a kiss that literally almost took your breath away. His hand was warm over your cheek. He let go and removed his hand from your cheek and leaned on his back to rest, leaving you speechless. "Wasn't that hard was it?" His sassy side was back.
You blushed while laughing, which in return made lando beam at you in happiness. You rested your head on his shoulder, "I was so worried about you." You said. "I know, but I am fine now" he said planting a kiss on the crown of your forehead. You tried to shake away any thoughts of a more aware lando that you will definitely have to deal with later as you lost yourself to sleep.
True to his words, the doctor returned back with the news of releasing Lando from the hospital. You were helping lando put on some clothes since he hadn't changed out of his race suit, yet. He was pulling his grey hoodie over his head when he winced, "What's wrong?" You asked, concern evident in your voice. "Nothing just remembered I have to comment on the crash." It was evident from his tone that he was starting to sober up from the meds. You dreaded what he was going to go through. "Lan, please take it easy on yourself,hm?" You said patting his cheek before giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek. He nodded with sleep glossing over his eyes, he must be really tired; he also didn't get to rest well because of the jet lag.
"Lando, lando, lando"
There were some reporters waiting outside of the medical centre for lando as you both exited along with Jon and the security team.
"Lando what do you think of today's incident?" One of them asked putting the mic as close to Lando as possible.
"An unfortunate end to our Las Vegas GP weekend," he said. "I just bottomed out on the restart, lost the rear and hit the wall. Not the way we wanted the weekend to end, especially considering the pace looked promising on Oscar’s side."
Jon queued that it was time to leave, so lando gave them a final word before heading off.
"Big thanks go to the medical staff for checking me over, and to the team for the work they’ll now put in on the car. One week to reset and go again for the season finale in Abu Dhabi.”
"Of course, thank you for you time Lando. Hope you feel better, mate." Lando nodded as he got escorted away and into the car with you. He rested his head into your lap the moment he got into the car.Your hand immediately took place between his soft curls. Lando hummed quietly dozing off to sleep since he was super tired.He had to be woken up again when you both arrived at the Hilton. He refused to let you go, even during the lift ride, almost most of his weight was on you as he leaned into you. You reached your room quickly, and helped him into the bathroom. "Lando, baby please wash up first while I get you something to eat yeah," you gently requested of him before you let him go. He wanted to protest, but you were not hearing any of it; not only was he jet lagged but he hadn't had any proper meal today.
It seemed that Lando opted for a quick shower since you heard it running as you changed out of your clothes. He finished by the time the food arrived to your room. You both ate in bed under the covers, the t.v on for background noise, none of you paying attention to it. You tried to talk with him, not wanting to leave him to his harsh and self critical thoughts. "feeling better,baby?" Lando nodded quietly munching on his fries as your fingers coiled his curls in place. You didn't miss the way a small smile made its way on his lips, he loved it when you played with his hair. It just made him weak.
"I am sorry you couldn't be proud of me tonight. You didn't even get to enjoy the race." You frowned at his words that he said after a few seconds of silence. "Lando," you placed your plate aside and turned to him fully so you can face him. "You know that you always make me proud. Always. No matter what the result is." You looked into his eyes to show him how sincere you were. "Lando, even if you weren't an F1 driver, I'd still be proud of you no matter what." You tried to comfort him. He didn't deserve it. What happened wasn't even his fault, and Andrea mentioned this to the media, as well. "All I could think about when that accident happened was your safety." You almost teared up thinking back to how he must have felt in that moment and the panic that showed through his hand and head movement, how he must have been taken aback by it all. "Baby, don't cry now," he said, putting his plate aside as well. "No, Lando, don't. Because it really tears me up inside how you can be so judgemental towards yourself," you said, gently moving his hand away from your face that was trying to wipe away your tears. "Baby, you're amazing, and I am sure that one day you'll be as amazing as all the drivers you have ever looked up to and even more. I just know it. Just please don't do this to yourself. It's always a team effort, not just one person, and I know that you always give it your all, so just please don't be so harsh on yourself because you don't deserve it." Lando nodded as he came closer to give you a hug. "I am sorry, I didn't know I was being such an ass." He said. "You're not being an ass to me. You're being an ass to yourself, and I really hate it when you do that." You sniffed, hugging him back and hiding your face in his neck. Warm breath teasing his neck, which made him giggle a bit, made your heart flutter. "Ah, how did I get so lucky," he said under his breath, but you heard him. "I love you so much." You said, looking up into his pretty eyes. "I love you too, baby." He said before kissing you.
"Now, eat." You said gesturing with your head towards his plate. "Nah, I wanna cuddle instead."
"Lando, eat first and then we can cuddle."
"Ugh, fine. So bossy," he muttered.
"Ugh, so sassy." You copied him as he gave you a side eye.
You both erupted in laughter. "Love you," he said focusing back on his food.
"Love you to the moon and back," you said
"Love you more,"
"No, I love you more,"
"No, I love you even mo-" he was not giving up, but you had to make sure he was well fed. "Lando, finish your food, or I swear to God..."
"Fine, fine woman jeez... why can't you just reciprocate my love," he mumbled again.
"Landooo,"
"I am eating, I am eating, see," he said with a mouth full of fries. You laughed and shook your head. How did you even end up with this dork, you thought.
________________________
Instagram
LandoNorris
Liked by Your Username and 1,950,465 others.
Rough day. Big impact. But feeling okay! Thanks for all of the messages ❤️ See you next weekend
Comments:
Mclaren: 🧡🧡🧡
Zedd: Glad you're alright brother!❤️
Charles_leclerc: Feel better mate!
Maxverstappen1: why do you look like you're high?
↬Your Username: that's because he was indeed high 🥴
↬Landonorris: I was not 😳😳😳
↬Your Username: yes, you were. I have proof. Jon has a video of you.
↬FanUserName1: I wanna see it sooo bad.
↬FanUserName2: me too.
↬Danielricciardo: me three. 👀
↬Landonorris: Fuck off, Daniel.
Y/UserName
Liked by landonorris and 1,783,631 others.
He's feeling better and that's all that matters. Always proud of you, love.💋
Comments:
Carlossainz55: yeah, right feel better, love 💋🙄
↬Your Username: Carlos, I swear to God, i will not tolerate the attitude just because you're Latino.👊🏼
↬Carlossainz55: oh no I am so scared. 🙄
↬Your Username: @iamrebeccad come get your boyfriend.
↬iamrebeccad: Carlos, I've had enough. Honestly stop it. I have to run around in the comments to stop this nonsense more than I run around from one city to the other for your races.🤦🏻♀️
↬Carlossainz55: mi amour, not you too.🥲💔
↬iamrebeccad: feel better guys, hopefully it won't happen again.🥹 @landonorris @/your username.
FanUserName1: oh my God, Rebecca dragging Carlos through the comments.😂😂😂
adam_norris_pure_electric: ❤️
*your username and Landonorris reacted to this comment *
FanUserName2: take care of him please.🥹🙏🏼
FanUserName3: We love you landinho, get well soon 🇧🇷 💛💚💛💚
OscarPiastri: Feel better, Lando🥹
↬Your Username: dw, I am taking good care of him.😁
↬LandoNorris: yeah, she's keeping me well fed.
↬FanUserName4: I knew it!! y/n's type of love is acts of service. Imagine her feeding lando and how she would act if he said that he's full.
↬FanUserName5: I don't wanna know tbh. The paps got a photo of her this one time when he refused taking any more food when they were out on a date,and she looked like she was one minute away from smashing the plate over his head.
↬Your UserName: in my defense he was not eating well, and I couldn't leave him like that without food.🤷♀️
↬LandoNorris: WITHOUT FOOD?!!😳😳😳 Babe you made me eat my whole plate and half of yours, i wouldn't count that as no food.
↬Your UserName: Sweetheart, back in my country this counts as a little girl's appetite.
↬Danielricciardo: hahaha she just roasted you on national t.v.🤣🤣🤣
↬LandoNorris: @Heidierger_ come get your bf. 😑
↬FanUserName6: What's with athletes having their gfs come collect them from this comment section ?! 😂😂😂😂
Mclaren: Take a deserved rest. We still have Abu Dhabi coming up. 🧡💪🏼
#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando norris x oc#lando norris x female reader#lando norris mclaren#formula 1#daniel ricciardo#carlos sainz#charles leclerc#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smau#lando norris fluff#max verstappen#oscar piastri#f1 wags#las vegas gp 2023#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4#just an inchident#formula one#f1 x female reader#lando norris drabble#f1 drabble#f1 x reader
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Valentine- L. Castellan
“won’t you, won’t you, won’t you, won’t you be my valentine?” - Suki Waterhouse
luke x fem! oblivious aphrodite reader
Valentine’s day.
You might think that the day that celebrates love would be favored amongst the children of the Goddess of love herself, Aphrodite.
And for many campers who resided in Cabin 10, they did love the holiday!
“You’re a disappointment, (Y/n).”
Unless you were (Y/n).
Silena frowned as she looked over at her sister. (Y/n) was lounged across her bed, watching all of her siblings get ready with a longing look in her eyes.
“Thanks, Sil.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes as she set her gaze upon her black haired sister. “Really feeling the support here.”
“What am I supposed to support you in?” Silena pointed her hairbrush at (Y/n) and raised her eyebrows. “You plan to spend the day moping around instead of confessing to—”
“I’m too scared!” (Y/n) cut Silena off as she buried her head in her hands. “I mean— Luke probably doesn’t even like me.”
Silena sighed and rolled her eyes. Honestly, she found it hard to believe that (Y/n) was her sister sometimes. For someone who was so good at knowing about other peoples love lives, (Y/n) was oblivious to her own.
(Y/n) was in love with her best friend, Luke Castellan. Anyone who knew her would know that. And anyone with eyes could tell that Luke shared the same adoration.
Anyone but (Y/n), apparently.
The door to the cabin opened and (Y/n) smiled when she saw the blonde locs of her other sister, Cordelia.
“Why are you still here?” Cordelia wrinkled her nose, carelessly swinging a pink bag in her hands.
“I thought today was supposed to be a day about love.” (Y/n) frowned. “I am not feeling the love from you guys.”
“Its tough love, sweetheart.” Cordelia grinned and threw the bag onto (Y/n)‘s bed. “For you, by the way.”
(Y/n) sat up and grabbed the pink gift bag. She wondered who it was from, secretly (or not so secretly) she hoped it was from Luke.
She knew it wasn’t, though. It wasn’t even his handwriting that was scrawled across the bag.
Peeking in, she saw an envelope and a jewelry box.
She took the jewelry box first. She was in the confines of her cabin, she was allowed to be selfish.
In the box was a necklace. Half of it was pearls and half of it was a silver chain. Perfectly her style.. whoever picked this out must’ve known her well. Or they had asked her friends.
(Y/n) hoped it was the former.
Ripping open the envelope with little regard, she furrowed her brows as she read the card.
“you know i’m no good with words. meet me in the strawberry field so i can show you how much you mean to me.”
-your secret admirer
“Whose it from?” Silena asked curiously as she sat next to (Y/n).
“Dunno.” The girl shrugged as she handed her the note. “There’s no name.”
Silena smiled and grabbed (Y/n)‘s shoulders. “Well you have to go! I’m curious.”
“Yeah, but what if it’s someone creepy.” (Y/n) scrunched her nose up at the thought.
Cordelia and Silena shared a glance before pushing (Y/n) towards the vanity.
“Don’t worry about that.” Cordelia cooed as she began to rifle through (Y/n)’s closet. “It’ll all be fine.”
It was not fine. And (Y/n) was worrying about it.
Reluctantly, she stood in the middle of the strawberry field. She had gotten there ten minutes ago and still, no one had shown up.
She was starting to worry that Connor Stoll was playing a prank on her. She looked so nice, too. If her pretty, pink, summer dress was going to be wasted on prank— (Y/n) was going to be pissed.
After five more minutes, (Y/n) decided that this was a bust. She was about to turn around and march back to her cabin when she heard the grass crunch behind her.
Turning around, (Y/n) felt her face flush as she saw the familiar brown curls.
“Luke..” She breathed out. “What uh— what are you doing here?”
“M’ waiting for someone..” He mumbled and ran a hand through his hair.
He seemed… nervous, and he looked nicer then usual. Instead of the orange camp shirt and khaki shorts, he wore jeans and a red sweater.
And then it dawned on her. Oh gods… how embarrassing! She was supposed to meet her secret admirer here, and now here comes Luke.. probably meeting his Valentine here too.
“I’m meeting someone here, too..” She flashed him an awkward smile and reached up to fidget with the necklace she had received.
Luke stared at her, his brown eyes boring into her soul as he opened his mouth. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided against it and took a step closer to her.
“That’s a pretty necklace.” He mumbled, reaching out to touch it.
(Y/n)’s face burned red at the contact as she looked up at him.
“Thanks.. my uh— secret admirer, or whatever, got it for me..”
Luke took a deep breath in and (Y/n) pursed her lips.
“(Y/n), listen…” He reached up to touch her cheek, his warm breath fanning over her face. “I’m not good with words, but I love you.”
“Luke..” (Y/n) breathed out. Her face felt hot and her heart was fluttering so fast she was sure she was about to have a heart attack.
“When I’m with you, everything just feels right. And I just—” He hesitated for a moment and leaned closer. “Can I just show you?”
Instead of responding, (Y/n) threaded her fingers through Luke’s curls and tugged him closer, smashing her lips against his.
For years, she had wondered what it would feel like to kiss the Luke Castellan. Would it be fast and rough? Slow and sensual? She finally had her answer.
After a moment of shock, Luke pressed his lips against hers with the same amount of passion. His lips moved against hers fast and rough, but he held her face like it was the most delicate thing in the world.
Maybe Silena was right, (Y/n) was stupid. But she was making out with her best friend, so her stupidity must’ve payed off.
After a moment, Luke pulled away. (Y/n) frowned and tried to chase his lips with her own, but he pushed her away softly.
“(Y/n)..” He laughed, his nose brushing against hers. “Will you… be my valentine?”
“That was incredibly corny.” (Y/n) laughed. “But yes. Yes I will.”
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#x reader#valentines day#percy jackson#pjo#pjo tv show#percy jackon and the olympians#aesthetic#luke castellan x you#pjo series
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My friend, can you believe after all these years I’ve come to finally appreciate Steve as more than a friend?
So I’ve come with a request. A very reluctant friends to lovers w Steve! Maybe Reader has never understood why all the girls love Steve and has always been just a good friend to him until one day. Something just clicks and he’s suddenly seen in a different light all together.
AN | In which you fall for Steve slowly, and then realize all at once 🥺
Warnings | None
Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Steve, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I think I’m going to be single forever,” you sighed as you sat down across from Steve, happy to see that he’d already ordered your favorite coffee. He raised an eyebrow in greeting as you reached over and squeezed his hand.
“Your date went that well?” he grabbed his own coffee and took a long sip as you shrugged.
“He wasn’t the worst,” you rested your cheek in your hand, “until he dropped me off at home and asked me to suck him off before I got out of his car. So, putting it lightly, I won’t be seeing him ever again.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” he gave you a small smile as you just shrugged. If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t that sorry. Sorry that you had to go through that but not sorry that it didn’t work out. He loathed the idea of you going out with anyone else, “you didn’t deserve that.”
“Thanks,” at least you always had Steve. You hoped that one day you would find a man as good as him. He was everything to you, and you hoped he knew that as well, “one day it’ll work out with someone. Until then, I guess I have to keep kissing the frogs.”
He made a small sound and nodded in agreement. It was then that you noticed the girl behind the counter watched the two of you - Steve - with a wistful look on her face. Your lips drew in a thin line as you tried to hide your eye roll. It wasn’t that uncommon; girls often stared at him wherever you went.
“What?” he nudged your foot under the table and shot you a coy smile, “what’s that look for?”
“Nothing…”
“Liar.”
“Fine,” you leaned in closer so only he could hear you, “that girl behind the counter is practically drooling over you.”
“Oh,” he laughed softly before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest, “what’s so bad about that, huh? Are you jealous?”
That made you scoff slightly as you waved your hand at him. That was definitely not the word you’d use. He was your best friend after all, “as if. That’s not quite the word I would use. Annoyed? Bemused? Those are more accurate.”
“Very funny,” this time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “would you want to do tonight?”
“I dunno,” to be honest, you were still a little down after your disastrous date, “whatever you want to do is fine, Stevie.”
“Nope,” he stood up and reached for your hand. Motioning for you to follow him, “that’s not what I asked - what do you want to do? You know I’m just happy to spend time with you.”
“Well that’s just the thing, Harrington,” you slipped your hand into his, “I’m just happy to spend time with you.”
And you meant it. Everything was a million times better with him.
“Yeah,” he smiled softly at you, making your heart almost melt, “I’ll pick tonight then and you pick next time. Deal?”
“Deal!”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The two of you were taking a walk around the park to kill some before your dinner reservations, hot chocolates in hand. Steve had surprised you with it since you’d been whining about how much you wanted before meeting up. You were reminded again just how amazing and wonderful your best friend was.
“It’s pretty out,” you mused as you lightly kicked a big pile of golden and orange leaves. It was almost winter, and you were taking advantage of the weather before it got too cold to do anything for a few months.
“It is,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at any of the nature surrounding you. He was looking right at you, “it really is.”
Before you could say anything else, you heard a small scream coming from near the playground. The two of you looked at each other before rushing towards the sound. When you reached the jungle gym, you found a young girl sitting at the bottom of the slide, crying as she held her leg.
You looked around but didn’t see any adults nearby. Steve didn’t waste a moment before handing you his cup and going over to the small girl. A couple of other kids were still running around and playing, but a few stopped to watch him.
“Hey sweetheart,” he dropped to his knees so he was on her level, his voice soft and gentle, “what happened?”
“I fell off the slide and hurt my leg,” she looked at him with big, wide eyes, cheeks wet with tears, “it hurts really bad.”
“Can I take a look at it?” your heart melted at how gentle and tender he was. Steve just had such a way with everyone - but kids especially. It definitely made you feel some kind of way. The girl nodded immediately, her dark curls bobbing as he looked at her leg. He made a few sounds before reaching up and wiping away some of her tears, “the good news is that I think you’ll be just fine. The even better news is that you’re super brave for how well you handled this.”
“Promise?” she asked and Steve held out his pinkie to her.
“Pinky promise,” he grinned as she laughed softly at him, “did you come here with your parents?”
“Yeah,” she looked around, “they were going for a walk and said they’d be back soon. I was just playing with the other kids.”
“Maybe we should go and find them, huh?” he ruffled her hair and she nodded, slowly attempting to stand up. Steve held up his hand in order to help steady her and she gladly took it, “what’s your name?”
“Lucy,” she reached for his hand and started to slowly walk. Her knee was skinned, as it often happened with kids, but otherwise she was unscathed. She paused and looked up at her savior, “what’s your name?”
“Steve,” he told her and she looked over at you. Steve followed her gaze and smiled at you before offering her your name. Lucy grinned and waved her small hand eagerly at you.
“Is she your girlfriend?” she loudly whispered to him, making you laugh softly as you pretended not to hear, “she’s really pretty.”
“She’s my best friend,” there was something about the way he said it that made your heart feel a little bit of a pang. It just didn’t sound quite…right. But you weren’t going to question that just yet, “she’s really nice too. C’mon kiddo, let’s go and find your parents.”
“Okay,” Lucy started to pull his hand and marched in the direction of where her parents would be. Steve followed diligently behind her, shooting you a wink as you trailed after the two of them. Yeah… this was definitely making you feel something.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Over the next couple of weeks it was like something had shifted in the way you viewed Steve. Not that you’d ever had anything but love for him, but it was starting to feel a little…different. It felt like you were seeing him in this new, honeyed golden light.
It was like you were noticing so many things about him for the first time, despite the fact that he hadn’t changed a single thing about himself. You noticed how he always held the door open for others, how he helped anyone that needed, when he’d let people in line go in front of him, when he’d pay for someone else’s coffee just to make their day. The way that people, especially women, always looked at him in wonder, suddenly made sense. He was just…everything. And you’d been so oblivious the whole time.
“What’s wrong?” You were at the grocery store with Steve, but you’d stopped mid aisle when you saw him helping some with getting a few things off a high shelf. He turned back to you and gently tugged on your sleeve, “are you okay? You’re being weird.”
“You’re being weird,” your face was practically burning at having been caught daydreaming about your best friend. He snorted in amusement, “sorry, just thinking.”
“Must be something important,” he gently tugged you along, back over to the car, “if it’s got you so distracted.”
“It’s…” you. But you weren’t about to admit that just that so randomly in the middle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe you’d never admit it. You weren’t completely sure yet, “nothing. It’s…nothing at all.”
“You sure?” he looked concerned for a moment, giving your hand a small squeeze.
“Positive,” you really liked the feeling of his hand in yours. You’d never noticed just how much, “just been feeling a little…off lately I think.”
He tutted softly, stopping to look at you fully. He reached up and took your face in his hands, looking to make sure there wasn’t anything he’d missed. Steve gently turned your head from side to side and hummed softly, “just as I thought.”
“What?” your lips pulled into a pout as you wondered what he could possibly say, “Steve.”
“You’re a horrible liar,” he concluded as you scoffed, reluctantly pulling his hands away from your face. He was getting too close to unnerving you and making you spill your guts out. You weren’t ready to. Ugh. He laughed softly before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you for a hug, “but I love you regardless.”
Part of you was convinced that he knew exactly what was going on in your mind and he was doing this to torture you, “love you too.”
This was going to be a whole situation. You just knew it.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Tonight was the night you were finally getting to see the movie you’d been thinking about for months. You weren’t sure if Steve actually wanted to see it, but he was a good sport for being willing to go with you. In true Steve fashion, he’d even paid for the tickets and all the snacks you’d both wanted.
“I’ll get all this stuff if you can grab the popcorn,” he took the stuff without even waiting for an answer. He shot you a quick wink, “thanks.”
You smiled at him, watching as the cashier watched him go as she got your bag of popcorn together. He really did women longing after him left and right; you could understand why. He was good looking and an almost golden retriever of a human being.
“Your boyfriend is very sweet,” the woman had a big smile on her face as you raised an eyebrow in confusion. What boyfriend was she talking about? You looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the theater lobby. The only person you spotted was Steve.
“I don’t…”
“And so handsome too,” her voice sounded almost dreamy as she looked between the two of you. You made a small sound before taking the bag of popcorn that she slid across the counter and slowly made your way back to Steve.
“Everything alright?” he asked softly as the two of you started to walk towards the designated theater, “you look…worried.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you promised with a stiff smile as he opened the door and ushered you in. You were surprised he managed it all considering his arms were full of drinks and snacks and you were only carrying the popcorn, “thanks, Stevie.”
He hummed in content as you picked out a pair of seats away from others near the top. You settled in and made yourself comfortable, finding yourself leaning into Steve’s warm body. He smiled as he put his arm around you, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.
You’d been wanting to see this movie since you’d heard about it months ago. You’d even picked out the perfect evening to go, when the theater wouldn’t be too crowded and you could enjoy the experience. But…you couldn’t focus on it at all; your mind kept drifting back to Steve. There was something in the way that lady had spoken about him that got to you.
Steve who had always been there for you. Steve that had been your best friend since the day he met you almost five years ago. Steve that would do - and has done - anything for you.
And that’s when it hit you. He wasn’t just your best friend, he was your everything. When you put the pieces together it made sense why people often thought you were together. Now you just had to figure out what to do with your revelation.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You hadn’t taken much of the movie in and Steve had noticed. Though it wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that you were distracted when you weren’t responding to a single comment or question from Steve.
The two of you walked back to his car in relative silence, a small distance that felt far too great between your bodies. Before you could open the passenger side door, Steve leaned against it and softly shook his head, “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re-”
“I’m in love with you.”
Well. That hadn’t entirely gone to plan. Not that you were sure you even had a plan. It just short of…happened.
“What?” he laughed nervously, raking a hand through his hair. He was pretty sure that he’d heard you correctly, but also didn’t want to flatter himself. Not yet anyway.
“I…I think I just realized during the movie,” your entire face felt way too hot, especially with the cool winter breeze that was surrounding you, “and it just…caught me off guard.”
“Off guard?”
“I…I think I’ve always known I just never…realized,” you whispered, turning your face down towards the ground, studying the laces of his sneakers. Steve wasn’t quite sure how you felt about the revelation, “but now I know. I’m sorry.”
“W-what? Why are you sorry?” you looked up at him, his big brown eyes all soft. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unsure if he was serious or not.
“Because. I think I’ve just ruined our entire friendship,” you threw your hands up in exasperation, “because it’s going to be weird now that I know I’m in love with you and you don’t feel the same way.”
“Whoa,” he reached for your hands and gently wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrists, “who said I didn’t feel the same?”
“But you don’t…I,” you stopped for a moment and thought about it. Oh. Oh. Steve beamed as he watched you come to yet another huge realization, “you love me?”
“Duh,” he teased in that gentle tone you loved so much, “took you way too long to catch up.”
“How long?” how long had you been blind?
“About five years.”
“But we met…five years ago.”
“I know,” this time he flashed you a shy smile as your expression softened. He’d been there this entire time but you had been so blind to him. Everything you’d been searching for and wanting had always been, quite literally, right in front of your face.
“Steve,” you looked down at your hands, were still safely and warmly developed in his, “Steve.”
He brought one of your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You warmed at the touch and it took everything in your power not to jump on him then and there and kiss him silly. He must have been thinking the same thing, “I’ve waited a long time to ask you this, but umm, can I kiss you?”
“Yeah,” you knew that, deep down, you’d been wanting him to ask for so long, “yes.”
He took your face gently in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he studied you intently. It was almost ridiculous just how far gone he was for you, “you’re so beautiful.”
Before you could argue with him, and he knew you well enough to know that you would, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, testing the waters to see what it was like for both of you. You couldn’t help but lean into him, sighing softly at his touch. That seemed to be all he needed in order to deepen the kiss, and you wrapped your arms around him.
Neither of you wanted to break apart and only broke apart very reluctantly when you were desperate for a breath of air. The two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles before laughing. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find the right words but there didn’t appear to be quite anything to properly convey everything you were feeling. You touched his face, ghosting your fingers along his freckles. He put his hand on top of yours and squeezed gently, “I know.”
“Oh,” you looked up and a few drops fell on your cheeks, “let’s get out of here.”
“Want me to take you home?”
“I want you to come with me,” you whispered, “I don’t want to say good night just yet.”
“Me neither,” he opened the door for you and helped you inside before gently closing the floor and going around to slide into the driver’s seat, “does this mean I can kiss you all the time?”
“Yeah, Stevie,” you grinned at him, “you can kiss me anytime.”
“Good,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “‘cause I’m going to be doing that a lot.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington one shot#st#joe keery
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hi!! can you write an oneshot of yuuji confessing his love to reader with the help of the first years and gojo? you are my fav writer!! ily bye<3
just confess already!!
synopsis: yuuji just can't get you out of his head!! maybe his friends and teacher can help?
☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ first req for jjk !! it took a long time to write this bc i wasnt sure if i was characterizing everybody right, so lmk how i did !! thank you so much anon for requesting this idea; it was soso cute !! i hope you all enjoy ! xoxo
☆ characters ˎˊ˗ yuuji itadori x fem!reader
☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.1k+
masterlist
“idiot.” a harsh slap on the back of his head made yuuji yelp out in surprise and slight pain, clutching the back of his head. “if you keep staring like that she’s gonna notice, y’know.” he pouted a bit as nobara sat herself next to him, sipping a smoothie as the two of them watched you train with maki.
“whatever…” he mumbled, setting his head on his hand. nobara watched him for a moment, the kicked puppy look on his face making her let out a breath, sighing.
“i can’t enjoy your struggle with love if you look like that.” yuuji didn’t respond to her comment, making her roll her eyes. “hey, stop ignoring me and listen. you have the love expert sitting right next to you and you’re not even gonna ask me anything?”
“you’ve never even had a boyfriend.”
“hey!! i’m not gonna help you if you start being a little shit!” she yelled, huffing as she took another sip of her smoothie.
as nobara looked at yuuji, she had to admit that it was strange to see him like this. it was odd to see yuuji so down in the dumps and not talking excitedly about something stupid, (not that she really cared. it was just an observation).
“...you gonna confess to her?”
“confess to who?!”
“aah!” nobara screamed as she jumped, her cup almost slipping from her grasp. gojo peeked his head out between yuuji and nobara, his face twisting in feigned pain.
“woah! don’t go screaming so loud, nobara! you’re gonna burst my eardrums!” the man whined, dramatically clutching his ears.
“well maybe don’t go sneaking up on people like that!! i could’ve dropped my smoothie!!” she complained, clutching her smoothie much closer. despite the sudden appearance and scare from gojo, yuuji hadn’t even moved a muscle, his cheek still squished up against his hand as he watched you, your training partner now being panda.
“sorry! but what’s got our vessel so down in the dumps? he get rejected?”
“he’s gotten himself rejected in his mind before even confessing.”
“ahhh, young love. so tragic!” gojo exclaimed dramatically. “so, who is it? hmmm…” gojo’s head turned to yuuji, matching his gaze until he saw you. “woah, (y/n)! what’re you gonna do?”
“dunno…panda said she’s totally into some guy from kyoto…” nobara raised a brow at his words, scrunching her brows as she thought for a moment.
“panda is a big fat liar. (y/n)-chan does have a crush on someone, but-”
“you know who she has a crush on?!” yuuji suddenly asked, his voice raising two octaves and his jaw almost dropping. “who is it?!”
“i’m not gonna break girl code for you, stupid! all i’ll say is that panda is completely wrong and that you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” she stated, making an ‘x’ symbol with her fingers. “you’ll be fine, so just confess already.”
“i don’t even know how to do that! it looks so easy in those romance movies…” yuuji said, completely unaware of what she had just implied.
“you watch romance movies? actually, why does that make complete sense- nevermind! stop being a coward! girls don’t like men who are cowards!” nobara confidently stated. “you’ve gotta be confident and tell your feelings unashamedly! be bold! be fearless!”
the little pep talk had no effect on yuuji, the boy just sighing and standing up when he noticed that you were finished with training. before he could get up and walk away, gojo suddenly grabbed him from under his armpits, easily lifting him up and walking away with him, (yuuji’s flapping and flailing had absolutely no effect).
nobara had stayed seated, staring at the scene for a couple moments and wondering if she should get herself involved, (teenage boys are so much trouble, after all). despite the fact that she could do much better things with her time, she ultimately decides to get up and follow them. see, she’s thinking for her future self! the future her wouldn’t be able to enjoy the small moments of peace and quiet if yuuji was constantly moping and feeling sorry for himself, so she has to intervene now for her own self preservation!
“hey, let go of me!”
“we have to fix this, stat! i wouldn’t be a good teacher if i didn’t help you out!”
“i’m not asking for your stupid help! have you even had a girlfriend before, sensei?!” gojo gasped at yuuji’s words, shaking him a bit as he continued to carry him to wherever he was taking him, (nobara isn’t sure why she decided to help, actually. this was ruining her peace and quiet).
“ouch! you don’t think your own mentor is hot with the ladies?!” gojo suddenly stopped walking when he noticed a familiar black-haired first year who stopped in the doorway to the school, staring at the scene in front of him.
for a few seconds, megumi stared at gojo, hoping that silence would hopefully be enough to exclude him from whatever was going on right now.
“megumiii~! come help us with yuuji~!”
“no thanks.”
“me~gu~mi~!”
“i’m busy.”
--
you’re not sure what’s going on right now.
you had been walking with maki and panda back from training, the three of you talking about getting a bite to eat somewhere good after taking showers and freshening up, (you felt pretty cool that you were able to hang out with the second-years, so you were pretty excited about it).
when the three of you had heard a giant racket from behind you, none of you had expected to turn around and find gojo and the other first years restraining yuuji as they were sprinting your way at quite the alarming speed, (gojo was holding yuuji like a cat, his hands under his armpits while megumi and nobara were half-heartedly crouch-running while holding his legs).
“aahhh!! let me go!! let go!!” yuuji was yelling, trying his best to wrangle himself out of gojo’s grip.
“what in the world…” you said in shock, preparing to get out of the way since they didn’t seem to be slowing down, (would they willingly crash into all you? nah…right?).
they all suddenly stopped right in front of you, unceremoniously dropping yuuji. he didn’t lose his balance though, standing up straight away and throwing his hands up in anger.
“hey!! what’s the big idea here?!” he was yelling, his face twisted in confusion and frustration. “you can’t just pick me up and take me wherever you want!!”
“actually, i can! maki, panda!! let’s scram!!” gojo said, a big smile on his face as he started shooing them off.
“hah? why should we-?”
“c’mon c’monnnn! listen to your teacher for once!” gojo interrupted, taking hold of both of their shoulders and pulling them along with him. “ oh, and (y/n)! yuuji has something to say to you!” megumi and nobara followed behind him as they shook their heads, leaving you and yuuji staring at them in shock as they all walked away.
“what the hell just happened…?” you asked, your question hanging in the air as you watched them all promptly exit the scene, (you could still hear maki arguing with gojo in the distance which you thought was a bit funny).
yuuji didn’t answer your question, his jaw hanging wide open as he watched everyone walk away and leave him there.
“uh, yuuji…? you alright? gojo-sensei said you have something to say?” you asked, a bit concerned. yuuji was finally looking at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to say something, (were his cheeks pink? are you imagining things?). it was odd to see him acting so timid, especially when he was usually so excited and friendly. maybe he was finally making a move?
no, you shouldn’t get your hopes up.
“i…uhh…” he managed to let out, his hands moving to his head to mess with his hair. you nodded patiently, waiting for him to say something.
“yes?”
“i…you…uhhhh…” he shook his head, his hands suddenly slapping his cheeks. “i like you!!” he exclaimed, his eyes screwed shut. “i really like you and panda said that you liked a guy from kyoto so i wasn’t going to say anything but nobara said i should go for it and i wasn’t going to but then gojo-sensei dragged me all the way here so i kinda feel like i have to say it now! i’m sorry!!!” you stared as he talked, not even taking a breath between his sentences as words poured out of his mouth. at the end of it he bowed deeply to you, his arms stiff at his sides.
all you could do was stare at him for a few moments, his talking being too fast for your brain to process all at once. the silence was thick over the two of you as he anxiously waited for an answer from you, whose eyes were blown wide as you realized what was happening right now.
the first thing you did was gently grab his shoulders, pulling him up from his bow and smiling at him, your hands moving to hold his, (you found it cute that his palms were sweating a bit).
the second thing you did was giggle a bit at his flushed and embarrassed expression; you didn’t think you’d ever see him like this, but you were glad that you were.
“yuuji! i thought you would never say anything! i like you too~!” now he was the one staring at you with wide eyes, his gaze flicking down to look at your joined hands, then back up to your smiling face.
“me? you like me?!” he asked in shock.
“of course, silly!” you answered, squeezing his hands a bit. “i’ve liked you since the first day i met you. i was waiting for you to realize!” yuuji continued gaping at you, his shock extremely evident on his face. “was it really not that obvious?”
“i’m kinda stupid, so i didn’t know…” he mumbled, his eyes staring deeply into your own, almost as if he was searching for your feelings in them. a smile suddenly bloomed on his face, his shock melting away as he gave you the most genuine and happy grin you’ve ever seen in your life, (you’re being blinded!!).
“will you let me be your boyfriend?” he asked, lacing your fingers together. “i can’t say that i’m the smartest and i can’t say that i’m the strongest, but i will do my best to make you happy!”
there was a particular shine of complete and utter love in his brown eyes that beamed a light straight into your heart; a complete k.o!
“guh, yuuji…” you said, your head dropping down. “my heart…”
“what?! are you okay, (y/n)??”
“ahhh, you’re so cute…!” you exclaimed, popping your head back up to beam at him. “let’s go do something!! right now!”
“r-right now!? where-?!” you cut his words off by starting to drag him with you, beginning to jog a bit. he confusedly jogged behind you, but despite his confusion his hand held yours in a firm grip, blindly following your lead as you led the both of you down the halls.
“somewhere! wherever we find something cool!” you giggled, going outside the school and leading him in the direction of the city. “let’s get some good food! oh, and maybe we can watch a movie or something! didn’t you want to watch that worm movie?”
“human earthworm 4? seriously?! you’ll see it with me??” yuuji asked, his expression dumbfounded and elated at the same time.
“of course! i would do anything if it was with you!”
“h-huh?! anything?!”
“yep! anything!” you smiled, looking back at him. his cheeks were completely flushed by this point, the pink shade being darker than his hair color. even more obvious than his flustered state though was how happy he was; his face was contorted in the most beautiful grin you think you’ve ever seen and you almost trip over your own feet because you’re so happy too.
“...i-i would do anything too! if it was with you!” he exclaimed, unconsciously helping you jump over a big root in the pathway. “i think anything would be good if it had you!”
“do you mean it?”
“of course i do!! i feel like you always have this sort of aura that’s just like whoosh! and then i just feel better, even if my lunch got stolen out of the fridge!”
“haha, i have an aura? don’t worry though, i’ll protect your lunches from now on!! you won’t need my aura because-!”
“no, i do need your aura! always!”
“hmm, well i guess we could arrange that, right?” you mused, giggling. yuuji’s eyes drifted to his view of your smile, your joyful expression making his heart go ten times faster than it already was.
hey! not that he’s complaining…it’s really nice, so….his heart rate be damned!!
yuuji doesn’t know if there’s a god out there or a higher power, but he hopes that he can be able to relive this moment with you forever, (would it be too much for him to ask to be with you forever? it would be, right?).
#˗ˏˋ𖤐 jujutsu kaisen ˎˊ˗#呪術廻戦#呪術廻戦 x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen yuuji#jujutsu kaisen yuuji itadori#jujutsu kaisen itadori yuuji#socerer fight#yuuji#itadori#fluff#yuuji x reader#yuuji x reader fluff#yuuji itadori#yuuji itadori x reader#yuuji itadori x reader fluff#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji#itadori yuuji x reader fluff#anime#manga#anime x reader#manga x reader#x reader#reader#reader insert#scenario
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sir, this is a wendy's
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'modern au'
rated t
wc: 765
tags: established relationship, proposal, kinda silly
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"They're out of the cookies, sweetheart," Eddie turned to Steve as he came back from the restroom of the Wendy's.
They were still nearly six hours from home and exhausted, a little bit grumpy if Steve's silence for the last hour was anything to go by.
"I'll have a Frosty then."
"Machine's down."
Steve blinked at him before sighing.
"I guess nothing then, right? Just the burger and fries."
Eddie sighed, too.
The visit with Robin hadn't gone...well. She'd told them she was taking a year to study abroad and part of the program meant she could only come home for one week during their summer break. Steve wasn't taking it well that she'd go from being an eight hour drive away to an eight hour flight away.
He was being patient.
He knew Steve hated change like this, and he'd only been sitting with it for about 12 hours.
Eddie turned back to the cashier with a smile.
"Two number two's, one with no onions and one with no tomatoes please."
Steve was standing next to him, staring down at his phone. When Eddie looked over, he had a tab open showing the program details of Robin's study abroad track.
While they waited for their food, Eddie watched Steve biting his lip, then his thumbnail, and then his lip again.
"Stevie, what's goin' on in your head?" Eddie finally asked.
Steve shoved his phone in his pocket and looked at the floor.
"Nothin'."
"It's clearly somethin'. You worried about Robin?"
"Obviously," Steve huffed.
"Love, she's-"
"Steve Munson!"
Both of them whipped their heads back to the counter, where a woman was pushing a tray of food towards them.
Steve's wide eyes looked back at Eddie, cheeks a bright red.
Eddie walked up to grab their food, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of Steve actually being Steve Munson.
It's not that he hadn't thought about it before; He had thought about it most days for the last year.
There was a ring in his drawer at their apartment to prove it.
"Table?" Eddie choked out, avoiding eye contact with Steve.
They were quiet as they sat down, taking their food off the tray and looking at it. Not eating, not even touching it anymore, just looking.
"Um."
"So."
They looked at each other, then back down at their food.
"Steve Munson sounds kinda nice," Eddie said hesitantly.
"Yeah?" Steve was picking at the wrapper around his burger now.
"I mean, I've thought so for a while."
"You have?"
Eddie was really about to propose in this Wendy's.
Without a ring or a real speech.
Just himself and a few old people in the corner eating chili.
"I'm gonna do this for real somewhere that isn't a Wendy's on an exit in some shitty town that has two gas stations and a Wal-Mart, but for now." He cleared his throat and reached across the table to take Steve's hand. "I dunno why they called that name, but maybe it's a sign. I love you. I know right now you're having a lot of thoughts, and you don't have to answer me. I'm not even on one knee, but really this is a Wendy's and my knee's been hurting for the entire ride. I love you. I said that already."
Steve giggled and Eddie couldn't help smiling back at him.
"I love you. I'll say it as much as you want, as long as it makes that smile happen. I'll say it when you're sad and grumpy, when you're happy and silly, when you're tired, when you're hyper. If it's okay with you, I'll scream it right here."
"In the Wendy's?"
"Yes, in the Wendy's."
Steve just nodded.
"Attention everyone! This man right here? I love him!" Eddie was saying loudly, gaining the attention of everyone around them. "And I'm asking him right now, to be my husband!"
"Sir, this is a Wendy's," an old lady sitting in the booth across from them said.
Eddie and Steve immediately started laughing.
"Well, is he sayin' yes so you'll shut up or what?" An old man said from the other end of the lobby.
Eddie looked at Steve with a smirk.
"Yeah, I'll marry you," Steve said loud enough for everyone to hear.
A couple people clapped, but for the most part, everyone went back to ignoring them.
Eddie kissed Steve softly, chastely.
"Was this a distraction from the Robin thing?" Steve asked.
"Not intentionally. Worked though."
Steve rolled his eyes fondly.
"You better make the real proposal a spectacle."
"Anything for you, my love."
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four times james took care of you + one time he told you why | J.P
bf!james potter x clumsy!fem!reader
content: we gotta give the people the fluff the people need
word count: 5000
content warning: mentions of unintentional self harm (nothing major), reader flushes, reader sits on james' lap, tickling, me projecting big time
notes: we love james "acts of service" potter 😵💫
1.
Your eyes fluttered open at the crisp sound of the common room’s fire. Taking a few moments to get fully conscious, you noticed the scene around you: you were cocooned into James’ lap, your head resting against his neck. He was snoring softly while holding you tightly in an old armchair. You two had about five different pieces of homework due tomorrow, but after a long day, you had agreed to “rest a little” after dinner. By the looks of it, you two had rested much more than a little. Delicately moving James’ head, you looked around. Besides you and James, there were only a few students and Remus, who was entertained with a book near the tables.
- Remus? - Your voice came out hoarsely - What time is it?
- Good morning, sunshine - He giggled - It’s a little after nine, I think.
- Nine? Oh, shit… - You turned to wake James up, your heart suddenly racing with the amount of work you had to do in such little time. But when you looked at James, he was sleeping so peacefully into you, his thick lashes resting softly against his flushed cheeks, that adorable pout he made when he was deeply asleep. If you didn't have so much to do, you would never have the heart to wake him up.
- Baby? - You kissed his cheek delicately - Baby, wake up. We have work to do.
You brushed his hair out his face when he fussed.
- C’mon, Jamie, it’s already past nine…
- No - James pushed you into him and snuggled you further - Let’s stay here.
- Jamie…
- Knock it off - Being the big baby he always was, he held you tightly so you couldn't move, the same way he did when you woke him up in the mornings.
Fighting against his strong arms, you were able to free yourself, even if he kept trying to hold on into whatever he could, in this case, your hand. Using all your strength, you started pushing him into Remus’ table.
- Stop being a baby and let’s just do it, alright?
He groaned loudly, but allowed you to drag him. You sat him down on a chair and he rubbed his eyes sleepily.
- We have a lot of things to do, and if we want to sleep tonight, we’ll have to hurry up, okay?
- Aye aye, captain - James yawned.
- So, we have… - you checked a piece of parchment in which you had written down a to-do list before dinner - Five different subjects to do homework for.
- How have we built up that much homework? - James inquired, astonished.
- Because you distract me
- I distract you? - James snickered - More like the other way around!
- Oh, yeah? - You crossed your arms and raised a playful eyebrow at him - How’s that so?
- You know how… - James pulled you in for a kiss.
- My god, get a room - Remus grimaced from his seat.
- Alright, let me see - you bend down to your backpack, placed near the edge of the table. - Charms… - you started listing while placing your heavy books on the table and bending back down - DADA… Herbology… Potions… Divination…
Remus snorted from his seat.
- What? - You asked, confused.
- Nothing… - Remus hid his amused smile behind his book.
- What was that about? - You asked James.
- Dunno. - He shrugged and stretched - There’s no way I’m going to stay awake for all that unless I go wash my face or something. I’ll just go to the bathroom then we’ll get started, alright? Be right back.
- Don't you dare try to escape this, James Potter! - You warned him as he walked away.
- Never, baby - He teased, throwing you a kiss.
He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you and Remus all alone. You started sorting out the books into piles in James’ absence, quickly realizing you had forgotten to get some parchment for the Charms essay. Reaching to your backpack, you ended up hitting your head on the sharp edge of the mahogany table.
- Ouch! - you exclaimed, quietly.
Once again, you heard Remus’ giggle on the other side of the table.
- What are you laughing about, uh? - You asked while applying pressure to the bang in a useless try to minimize the pain.
- Nothing. - Remus smiled and you gestured for him to keep on talking. He sighed and put his book down - It’s just… It’s just that you and James are too cute, that’s all.
- And that makes you laugh?
- Yes, because I find it adorable.
- Can you elaborate, maybe?
- Ah, you know… - Remus gestured dismissively, but quickly noticed your confused expression and smiled - You really don’t know, do you?
- Know what?
- When you were getting your books - Remus put his book down to explain - James kept his hand on the edge of the table so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. He always does that, almost subconsciously at this point. When he left, you bumped against it because you are unconsciously used to having his hand there to protect you. And I don’t know… that’s just really cute.
Remus returned his attention to the book and left you alone with your thoughts. Did James really do that all the time? Just to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt, like you just did? You genuinely never noticed. You were flooded with a nice, warm feeling inside your chest, one that only James could bring you. Remus was right: it was cute. But… What if James does that because he finds you clumsy, graceless even? You wouldn’t want him to think you are that uncoordinated, so much so that he had to help you with it. You were clumsy, to be honest. Accidentally tripping, bumping against furniture, dropping your books, forgetting things… It was a daily occurrence for you, but you were used to it. You didn’t want James to think he had to worry about it.
Did he really do that?
- Oi - James’ return ripped you off your thoughts - Ready? We could start with DADA, maybe?
You had to see it yourself.
- Yes, perfect. Lemme just… get a quill.
James nodded and started opening his book. When you bent, you noticed James’ hand slipping towards the edge absentmindedly, almost like a second nature. When you straightened up, Remus’ smirk was visible.
2.
The fifth year’s Astronomy class was assembled in the tower for an exam, which consisted of staying up very late to watch the night sky and fill your charts with specific planets’ positions. You all had been extremely unlucky of having said test scheduled on an extremely cold night, so cold that not even the owls were flying out of the owlery.
- It should be a crime to get us out here on this temperature - Sirius complained while shivering violently. - Hey, if we die or something at least we’ll die knowing Venus’ position at 2 AM, am I right?
Everyone had come covered in multiple layers of clothing, including their heaviest cloaks, scarfs, gloves and hats, and even then, everyone was chilled to the bone. You weren’t so bothered by the cold, since you had James, the human stove, to keep you warm. The only part of your body that was positively freezing was your hands. Because of your usual distraction, you had forgotten to get gloves before leaving your dorm. If you told James, he’d probably give up his own gloves for you, but ever since Remus pointed out James’ habit of saving you from your own clumsiness, you were really trying to show James you were independent, or at the very least, hide your distracted nature and show him you can take care of yourself. Except that was never your speciality. One way or another, you had your mind set, so you’d have to settle with icy hands tonight.
- No one will be dying tonight, mr. Black - your teacher, Miss Vickers, replied to Sirius with a sardonic tone.
James muffled a laugh.
- See, Pads? No one is dying. If it gets too bad, you can always get some dog fur, if you know what I mean.
- Right. Too bad some antlers won’t help at all.
James snuggled his chin between your neck and shoulder.
- Are you cold, lovie?
- No, I’m fine, Jamie - you whispered back, rubbing your cheek against his.
Forgetting about your new facade, you raised your hands to caress James’ curls. By doing so, he felt the extreme coldness of your hands.
- Y/N! Your hands are freezing! - James exclaimed worringly - Where are your gloves?
- In my pocket - you lied.
- And why are they in your pockets, and not your hands? - He mocked, lowering his head to stare at your side profile.
- Because I’m not cold - you lied, again, embarrassed.
- Right, cause ice lolly hands are super comfy - James snickered - C’mere.
With a swift but gentle movement, James made you face him. He pulled you into his arms, and used his glove clad hands to put yours inside his cloak’s pockets. You almost moaned in satisfaction when James took off his gloves and started rubbing your fingers with his warm palms
- You are really silly, you know that? - Your head, snuggled against his heartbeat, bobbed when his chest rumbled with a giggle. He rocked you both back and forth slightly while you enjoyed James’ warmth, his familiar scent, the comfortable sound of his heartbeat.
- You should’ve told me you had forgotten your gloves. - He smiled down at you.
- You could just have given me yours, that would’ve worked…
- I like this better - James hummed, placing his chin on the top of your head.
3.
- It’s very simple, I swear. We just have to place the sweets on their table before dinner, and they’ll 100% eat it
Sirius was explaining to you and the Marauders the new prank he planned to pull on the Slytherins. This time around, he had made bonbons filled with a cream he had come up with. The cream was made out of Mandrake roots, something Sirius had discovered made anyone who ate it talk in a high-pitched voice for two days.
- Don’t you think they’ll find it weird that no other table has them? - Remus pointed out.
- Look at those guys! - Sirius pointed to the Slytherin table - Do you think they notice what everyone else is doing? And even if they notice, they are so self-absorbed they will think it’s a prize for being better than everyone else or something…
- Actually, that could work. - James chimed in while mindlessly rubbing circles around your leg - We can fake a note from Slughorn, and they’ll punch themselves to get the box.
You looked at your wrist watch while they discussed. Between the boys’ talk and James' caresses, you had lost track of time, and now you had five minutes to go all the way to the other side of the castle if you didn’t want to be late for Transfiguration.
- Oh my God! James, we have to go! - You couldn’t be late to McGonagall’s class again: the last time you did, she scolded both you and James for, in her own words, “lovebirding around forgetting about your education”.- Bye guys, see you later. You bid the Marauders goodbye. On light speed, you gathered your books and started leaving, presuming that James would follow. You were midway to the Great Hall’s door when he called you out:.
- Wait!
- Jamie, we’re late!
- I know, but there’s something I have to do.
When he finally reached you, he kneeled down.
- Baby, what are you doing? She will kill us both if we’re late again…
Your words trailed off when James put your feet on his lap and started lacing your shoes. Only then you noticed that you had been walking around with your shoelaces untied for God knows how long. You felt your cheeks getting warm.
- Done. - James smiled up at you when he finished securing the knots. He got up and kissed your lips softly, one hand caressing your cheek, as always.
- I know how to tie my shoes, y’know. - you grumbled.
- Yeah. I just… wanted to do it for you.
- Thank you, Jamie.
- Of course. Can’t have my girl stumbling around, can I? Let’s go before Minnie kills us.
4.
- Are we going to Madam Puddifoot’s first?
You looked around Hogsmeade. You only had the chance to come here every once in a while, so everytime you and James’ class had a Hogsmeade weekend, you tried to make the most out of it.
- I was thinking we save Madam Puddifoot’s for last.
- Sounds perfect. So where do we go first?
- Could be… Honeydukes?
- Ugh, baby… - James groaned
- What?
- I’m a little tired of Honeydukes, to be honest.
- Why, not everyone gets to rob its basement every month, like you and the boys do!
- I never rob it! I always put money in the register! - James threw his hands in the air defensively - I even leave tips!
- Aren’t you my little goody two-shoes. - You pinched his pink cheeks playfully.
- Plus, I always bring you sweets!
- Yeah, yeah, alright… But I like going there! It’s pretty, and it always smells amazing there. - You smiled sheepishly and batted your lashes at James’ - Can we please, please go?
James stared at your theatrical request with an amused smirk.
- Alright… let’s go.
James held your hand and started following the flow of students heading towards the shop through the snowy streets.
- Thank you so much! - You kissed his cheek soundly.
- You are the most spoiled girl in Hogwarts, did you know that? - He elbowed your rib playfully.
- And who’s fault is that? - You giggled at him.
At Honeyduke’s, you and James made the rounds collecting all your personal favorites: liquorice wands, sugar quills, chocolate toads, and an obscene amount of cauldron cakes. When you both couldn’t find anything else in your baskets, you joined the line to pay.
- Feels weird to not get the sweets and just run? - You teased.
- You never complain when I bring you a dozen caldron cakes each time, do you? - James rolled his eyes at you while smiling.
- Hi, James!
You turned around to find Amos Diggory, captain of the Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team, standing behind you two. Despite James' competitiveness in the field, he always got along very well with Amos.
- Oh, hi, Amos! How are you? - James shook his hand amicably.
- I’m doing well. Taking Mrs Potter shopping, I see?
- Yeah - James smiled brightly while your face burned in a violent blush violent
Every time McGonagall scolded you and James for being laced, she graced you both with a nickname. Last week, she referred to the pair of you as “Mr and Mrs Potter”. Sirius instantly adopted the nickname, especially to tease James about being whipped. Somehow, other people heard of it and your friends started using it in a light-hearted manner. James found it all extremely funny, and even though it always made you shy, you secretly loved it.
- You know what they say, the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.
They both chatted about the upcoming matches until you reached the register.
- That will be four galleons - Mrs Flume announced after checking your baskets.
James reached for his pocket, but you touched his hand to stop him.
- I will pay, today.
- And why should I let you do that?
- Cause I want to spoil you, too - You booped his nose.
When you reached for the little purse where you kept your money, however, your smile fell. You had forgotten to grab your money due to your distraction.
- I, um… I think I forgot to grab my purse - you admitted, embarrassed to let your inattentiveness show once again.
James simply smiled, and handed Mrs Flume the golden coins. She busied herself with putting your purchases in a box.
- I’ll pay that back to you.
- No, you won’t. I won’t take it.
- Yes, you will. I forgot, but I want to pay for it.
- Except you won’t, cause I want to pay this for you.
- You always pay for everything!
- And since when is that bad?
- Cause I wanna give you things, too!
- Trust me, you give me plenty - he smiled suggestively at you, earning a slap in his arm.
- James! You called me spoiled an hour ago!
- And you are.- He smirked - But I like spoiling you.
Exasperated, you threw your hands up in defeat.
- Ugh!
James grazed your cheek with his hand soothingly.
- C’mon, if I can’t use my money to spoil little Mrs. Potter, what am I supposed to do with it?
+ 1
You and James were near the lake, laying down under an orange tree, studying for exams. It was a sunny afternoon in which you both wanted nothing but to throw your books in your trunks and go do something outside. Since you really needed the study time, you two had to find a middle ground: studying in the garden, where you could at least enjoy the sweet summer breeze and the sunlight. You had been deeply concentrated in your books when a delicious whiff of the plump, sugary oranges above you had invaded your nostrils, making your mouth water. You were able to grab one from a lower branch, and now you were anxiously trying to peel it with a small knife.
- Hey, pretty girl - You were distracted from your task by James’ lips grazing the warm skin of your cheek - Want me to do that for you?
- Thank you, Jamie, but I can do it - You snickered at him, even if you never actually learned how to properly do it, and he knew that - I got it.
- Can I do it for you, please? - He smiled. You gave in, and gently removed the orange and the knife from your hands
You watched as he skillfully peeled the skin off the fruit. In no time he got the orange separated in two halves, handing you one happily. James leaned against the body of the tree, pushing you to sit back between his legs and lean into his chest. You both sat there, contently eating the sweet but slightly acidic fruit.
James does a lot of things for you. Way too many, perhaps. He didn’t let you peel an orange, for Christ’s sake! Does it bother him, feeling like he has to do things for you so you won’t mess it up?
- I know how to peel an orange. - You turned to face him - I really do.
- I know, doll.
- I can do it. Seriously.
James thought to himself for a moment.
- Have you ever heard the theory that a perfect couple is composed of one person who loves oranges, but sucks at peeling them, and another person who loves oranges, and is great at peeling?
- I know how to peel fruit! - You stated.
- Of course you do. You just suck at it. - He smirked at you, amusedly throwing another piece in his mouth.
You let out a sigh in frustration. Nervously, you turned to face him completely.
- James, listen… I don’t want… I don’t want you to think I’m useless.
James’ smile fell off his face.
- What? What are you talking about, sweetheart? - he worriedly reached for your hands - Why would I think you’re useless?
- Because… - You run your hands through your hair - Because you are always doing things for me. Tying my shoelaces, warming my hands because I’m an idiot and I forget my gloves, things like that and I just… I appreciate it but I don’t want you to do these things because you think I’m incapable.
You could see the engines turning in James’ head as he pondered. All of a sudden, he started laughing.
- You think I do that because I think you are incapable?
- Well, yes! - You lowered your head - I know I’m kinda distracted but I don’t want to be a burden or anything…
- Hey. - James used his index finger to lift your head, forcing you to look into his incisive, but soft gaze - You are never a burden. And that’s not why I do it, at all. I do these things because it’s my way of showing you I care for you. But I understand if it makes you feel lessened, and not loved, and I can find new ways to care for you, if that’s wh…
- No! - You exclaimed, stroking his cheek - I love it. And it does make me feel very loved. I’m just… silly. I guess I don’t want you to feel obliged to do things for me, that’s all.
- Baby. - James smiled and held your face between his warm, orange-scented palms. - When I tie your shoelaces, I know you can do it, obviously. But it makes me feel happy that I even get to do that for you, you understand? And it’s like that with everything else I do. I love taking care of you because I love you.
Your heart warmed at his words.
- So you don’t think I’m clumsy?
- Actually, I do - he smirked.
You slapped his arm and turned away from him.
- I’m sorry, I'm sorry - he reached for you again - You are… distracted. Almost as much as you are distracting. But I like it. Makes me feel like a knight in shining armor.
- I’m not distracted! - You narrowed your eyes at him.
- You are, doll - He soothed you amusingly - A little teeny bit.
- Oh, yeah? I would’ve peeled us this orange myself if you weren’t so… nosy!
James gasped in a dramatic manner.
- I’m nosy? - You shook your head yes in defiance - Yeah? Are you sure?
James threw himself at you to attack your sides with tickles, the most powerful weapon he has against you. You both rolled around in the blanket you had brought from your dorm while you laughed so hysterically you couldn’t breathe. James couldn’t help but laugh too, infected by your laughter.
- Stop! Stop! - you begged, tears rolling down your face.
- Only if you say I’m not nosy.
- You are not nosy! - You shouted, and James finally stopped the tickling.
You were laying underneath him, and when the laughter died down, James stayed on top of you, watching your flushed face with loving eyes. A sweet summer breeze passed you both, making your hair fly. He carefully placed the rebel strand behind your ear.
- Great. Now, say: “I love you, Jamie, my beautiful amazing perfect boyfriend and thank you for peeling every orange I’ll ever eat for the rest of my life”
- I’m not going to say that after you just attacked me! No way! - You laughed.
- Yeah? Then get ready for another tickling attack!
When he placed his hands back on your sides to resume the torture, you panicked.
- No! No! Fine! I love you, Jamie, my beautiful amazing perfect boyfriend and thank you for peeling every orange I'll ever eat for the rest of my life!
- Perfect - he kissed your lips delicately.
- That’s a lot of oranges, you know.
- What?
- Every orange I’ll eat for the rest of my life - You grinned, lifting your hands to trace his features with your finger - That’s a lot of oranges.
- I know - He gave you that full teeth smile, the one that made his dimples pop before kissing your palm - You love oranges.
- I do.
- At least you will never have to risk chopping your fingers off, since your amazing boyfriend will take care of it. - He explained playfully. - You can be clumsy safely.
You pouted at him angrily and crossed your arms.
- You don’t scare anyone with that face, missy - He snickered and lowered his head to kiss you again. - You are too adorable when you are angry.
James hummed happily against your mouth when the kiss deepened. He rolled you both around so you could straddle him.
- You taste so sweet - He breathed against your mouth.
- Like oranges, maybe?
- Yes, precisely.
- Like the ones you peel for me because I’m distracted? - You sneered softly.
- Yes, just like the ones I peel for you because I love you.
#james potter x reader#james potter#the marauders x reader#the marauders era#harry potter imagine#james potter imagine#james potter x you#james potter fluff#fluff#female reader#the marauders imagine
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Ghost - Part 3
Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader
Part 2 here // Part 4 here
Warnings: 18+, negan masturbating, negan being all sweet and protective
A/n: I thought this would be the last part, but it was so long I had to break it up. Part 4 will be posted soon!
Negan’s POV:
I waited all night for her but she never came. Hopping back on my bike, I drove back to the sanctuary the next morning. I spent the next few days drinking in my room and missing her. Trying to give her space was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Two of my wives came to check on me, and I rudely dismissed them. And told them to kick rocks, for good. I wouldn’t even be able to get my dick up with anyone else but her. This girl has me wrapped around her goddamn finger and I don’t even know her name.
I sat on the couch, closed my eyes and imagined her face. Our night together. How I fucked her through her little shorts. I imagined her lips between mine and the little sounds she made as she scratched my back. Fuck.
I rubbed myself through my pants, imagining myself between her legs before I got impatient and pulled my cock out. I spit in my hand and began stroking it, focusing extra on the tip. My head pressed against the couch and I groaned, jerking my dick faster. Fuck, fuck fuuuuck.
"Boss, we've got a problem." Fucking Simon.
Tucking myself back in my pants, I walked over and flung the door open, clearly annoyed with an extreme case of blue balls. We walked towards the back exit quickly while Simon filled me in on the situation.
“Rick and the rest of them are outside." Simon explained. "He said he only wants you.”
“Of course he does.” I chuckled before walking out onto the balcony. “Well, what a nice surprise. This better be good Rick. I was right in the middle of something.”
Her silky black hair caught my attention almost instantly and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She stood beside Rick and my heart sank for two reasons. I couldn't let her get hurt in the middle of all this. And what the hell was she doing? She couldn't seriously want this.
I leaned next to Simon's ear and whispered. “Make sure everyone knows that one is off limits." I nodded towards my girl. "If anyone harms a hair on her pretty head, it'll be the last thing they ever do."
Your POV, earlier that day:
“We go in quick, and we don’t leave until Negan is dead. Understood?” Rick’s voice sounded far away and I realized my mind had been wandering the entire time, not able to concentrate.. Or accept Rick’s plan for Alexandria to go after the Saviors. I couldn't lose someone I...
Care about… again.
“Y/n?” Rick asked, tilting his head at me.
“Yes, understood.”
The ride over took ages it seemed like. My head rested against the window of the truck while I watched the sun slowly start to disappear. I should be thrilled. This is what I’ve wanted for so long - to get revenge.
So why did I want to save him?
“I dunno if I can do this.” Daryl’s focus remained on the road as I spoke. “I know you don’t understand it, but there’s good in him. I’ve seen it.”
Daryl scoffed. “Unbelievable.”
“I just don’t wanna see anyone else die, Daryl.” I wiped a tear from my cheek.
“Some people deserve it.”
“And we don’t? Think about all the ones we’ve killed.”
“Not the same.” Daryl mumbled.
“But it is. That’s the world we live in now. We do what we have to to survive. We’re all… psycho murderers, really.”
“Listen to yourself. What do you think Glenn would think about you defending the man who killed him?”
I sat quietly for a few moments, focusing my attention back on the clouds. “I think he’d be proud of me.” The gravel suddenly rumbling beneath the truck let us know we were getting close to the sanctuary and Daryl pulled over, parking near the others.
“You’re either with us, or ya aint. But you need to hurry and decide.” Daryl warned before he quietly exited the truck and met up with the others ahead.
I owe them for everything they’ve done for me. Everything they did for Glenn. I closed my eyes before hopping out of the car and quickly caught up with the rest of the group. Daryl gave me a nod and the rest of the tread was quiet. I tried focusing my mind on anything but Negan, disassociating to the best of my ability - a skill I’ve perfected over the past few months.
“Negan needs to surrender. This has to happen now. This is the only way.” Rick’s voice rang through my ears as I stood near him, shielding myself with the metal that stood between us and the Saviors. Peeking out, I watched Negan appear behind the railing, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips.
“You’re gonna make me count?!" Rick shouted. "Okay, okay. I’m counting. 10….”
Negan eyes traveled to mine and his gaze softened. I stared at him, silently begging him to surrender while Rick counted. He studied me as if he wondered if I wanted this.
Of course not. Surrender, goddammit.
I watched him lean over and whisper something to Simon while his eyes were still on me. Simon nodded and took out his radio, signaling something to the others that I couldn't hear.
The sound of Rick's gun cocking distracted me, and without thinking, I jumped in front of him, pulling the gun with with me. A bullet went straight through my foot, but I barely felt it.
I heard Negan cursing in the background amongst all the other chaos transpiring. Walkers were filing in now and everyone eventually scattered. I limped as quickly as I could, trying to escape before my feet lifted off the ground. I quickly realized it was Negan and he rushed us to an empty trailer nearby, shutting the door behind him when we made it inside.
“Oww.” I groaned, limping over to the wall and sliding down it. I pulled off my bloody sock and shoe and cringed at the bullet hole in my foot. The pain was starting to set in now.
“Shit.” Negan grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet above and kneeled down, wrapping my foot. “The hell were you thinkin' darlin'?.”
He looked up at me, slightly grinning and I rolled my eyes. He finished wrapping it up, kissed my forehead, and sat next to me on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. His hand rested on my thigh protectively and I wanted to reach for it and hold his hand but I couldn’t. We both sat in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke.
“You never came. I waited on you all night.”
My heart ached at the thought of him there alone. “I told you, Negan. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
“Yet.. you just took a bullet for me.” I could hear the cocky smile through his voice.
“Why did you want to meet?” I asked.
“I guess I thought maybe if we went back to our place, you’d see me differently. The way you did that night, and I’d actually have a chance to win you over.”
When I looked over at him, I saw the man he was that night. Before I knew his name and all the horrible things he had done. I replayed everything in my head - the steam from his shower, our deep talks about our old high school days, his wife Lucille and how her death broke his heart, and how he read to me. And then I remembered him in between my legs, but stopping before it got too far because we were both tipsy.
How could the same man who bashed someone's skull in be the same one the had enough decency not to take advantage of a woman? I wanted so desperately to believe in the man he was that night - for that to be the only version of him.
“Listen baby, I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have." His voice was lower than usual when he spoke. "I get that you don’t wanna see me anymore and I’ve gotta learn to be okay with that. I don’t want to be a constant reminder of your brother’s death.” He leaned his head against the wall. “Fuckin' stupid of me to think this could ever work, huh?”
With every word he spoke, my heart broke into smaller pieces. If Negan would have died today, I’d hate myself for the rest of my life for not going back to the cabin and meeting him that night. As difficult as our life would be together - for so many reasons, I can’t live without him.
“Negan..”
“Yeah?” His hazel eyes met mine and he looked like a sad puppy that I desperately wanted to comfort.
“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.”
He nodded, clearly hurt and I watched his eyes fill with tears before he looked down.
I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t regret what I was about to say. “But I love you. And I want to find a way to make this work.”
His eyes darted back and forth between mine before his hand cupped my face and he kissed me all in one motion. I've missed his lips so much. His mouth was gentle, like he was scared to break me, but I wanted him to, so I pulled him closer and opened my mouth slightly. His tongue slipped in and collided with mine, making me see stars. After a few moments, he pulled away, breathing heavily and resting his forehead against mine.
“I love you so fuckin’ much, sweetheart. I’ll never disappoint you again.”
“I know.” And I did. I believed him. Gunfire in the distance quickly snapped us back to reality but we held each other, neither of us willing to let go first.
"Negan, I've gotta go back with them."
"No. Stay with me at the sanctuary until we figure out a plan? I'll take care of you and-"
"We can't. You can't stay here, Negan. It's not safe, they'll come back for you. Rick won't stop until you're dead."
"Then I'll kill him first, doll. Simple."
"No. You're not killing anyone else - none of my people. I can't lose anyone else. The only way everyone survives this is if you surrender."
Negan scoffed. "And then what? Be a goddamn prisoner and Rick's little bitch for the rest of my life? Not gonna happen, darlin'."
I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.
"Hey, you're not giving up on me already are you?" Negan's hand rested again my cheek as he urged me to look at him.
"No.. no, I just, I dunno what to do."
"We've got all night to figure it out, doll. We don't have many options. There's no way you're going back to Alexandria on that foot. Come on." Negan stood, holding his hand out to me and I took it. "Stay close behind me, baby."
I nodded, gripping the back of Negan's shirt as he kicked the door open, flinging a few walkers in the process. I helped as much as I could, stabbing a few with my knife as Negan worked our way through the crowd.
Luckily the sanctuary itself seemed untouched. The walkers were only outside in the yard while a couple of guards secured the entry to the sanctuary doors. They opened them quickly as Negan and I tumbled in. His hand wrapped around my waist, helping me walk with my hurt foot.
We could hear Simon and the others around the corner. Turning the corner, Negan whistled his favorite tune and I watched in awe as the rest of the saviors bowed before us.
"I bet you all thought I was dead, huh?" Negan chuckled. "Here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have -“ He paused, leaning into you. "Hell’s your name darlin’? You never told me.” You whispered your name in his ear and giggled. He turned back to the saviors, finishing his speech. "I have y/n, and my nut sack? Is made of steel. I am not dyin' until I am damn good and ready."
What a dork. My dork. I thought, looking up at him as he spoke.
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a honeymoon to get to. No one knocks on my door. Simon, you're in charge. Don't make me regret it."
Simon nodded and Negan lead us down the hall to a large door at the end. He held the door open for me as I walked through. A bachelor pad of the apocalypse. Exactly what I imagined. I smiled at him and he returned the gesture, flashing his white smile before he walked towards me and immediately wrapped me in his arms. My head rested against his chest and I felt his heart beat. For once, I felt safe.
Part 4 here. If you’ve read this far, thank you. 🥹💗
tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174
#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#negan fanfiction#jdmorgan#jdm fanfiction#negan smith#jdm x reader#twd negan#jeffrey dean morgan x reader#jdmfanfiction#negan smith smut#negan x oc#negan twd#negan x reader#negan imagine#negan smith x reader#negan x you#negan smith fanfiction#the walking dead negan#negan smut#jeffrey dean morgan x you#jeffrey dean morgan smut#jeffrey dean morgan fanfiction#negan smith x you
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Tired Eyes
WHUMPTOBER DAY 26: Prompt: “working to exhaustion”
Fandom: Batfam/DC
Summary: It’s been a long day, and you’re too caught up with work to take care of yourself, so it’s up to your brothers to do it for you.
Warnings: Exhaustion, overworking, none really it’s more fluffy than anything.
Word count: 1.2K
MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
You weren’t tired. No. You just needed to rest your eyes a little, that was all.
The screen of the computer had begun to hurt your eyes, making your temples to throb so, with your elbows planted firmly on the table, you began to massage them to ease the pain, but here you found your eyes dropping closed and your head falling towards table. The dim lighting of the cave didn’t help much either.
As soon as your head hit your clammy palm, you jolted awake, sitting up abruptly and straightening your back against the chair, snapping back to the mountain of work that you needed to get done.
Your fingers moved sluggishly against the keyboard as you typed up the reports. It had been a busy week and so you were left with a large pile of unfinished essays to type and not a lot of time to do them. It was late; the rest of the boys had returned to their beds, deciding to write their reports the following day, but you were already behind which meant that despite the ungodly hour you were still plastered to the chair.
Reaching blindly for your coffee with one hand you wrapped your hands around the ceramic and brought it to your lips. The drink was lukewarm and bitter as it ran over your tongue, but you were desperate for the buzz that the caffeine gave you.
You hadn’t realised that the sun had crept up of you until Dick strolled into the room, barefoot and in his pyjamas. He did a double take when he saw you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Y/n?” He asked, frowning at you. At the sound of his voice you glanced over at him briefly, noting his messy hair. He observed the fact that you were still wearing the same clothes as you were when he went to bed last night. “Did you even go to sleep?”
You shook your head, continuing to press your fingers into the little plastic squares not even nothing to look his direction as you continued to work. “Nope.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How long have you been awake?”
“Dunno.” You shrugged. “What time is it?”
“6”
“ ‘Bout…26- 27 hours?”
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/n. You need sleep.”
“I will. I just need to get this done first. You can get me another coffee though?”
“Y/n-“
“Sorry Dick, can’t hear you over my cleverness.”
He rolled his eyes, but snatched the cup from your hand anyway and went to prepare breakfast.
It seemed like forever before you finally entered the last word on your essay slumped back against the chair. You were feeling exhausted and your body had began to grow stiff from sitting in the same place for so long, so after submitting it you shuffled into the kitchen where your brothers were sat lounging on chairs.
“Woah, Y/n.” Damian said through a mouthful of bacon that he had piled onto his plate “You look like hell.”
“Thanks Dames.” You scoffed. “Just what a woman wants to hear.
“I didn’t mean it like that-“
“She hasn’t slept.” Dick interjected.
Tim narrowed eyes at you over the top of his book. “What? Why?”
“I had too much to do, Jaybird.”
“Well then go to bed now.”
“Can’t.” You grabbed a slice of toast and slid it onto a plate. “Still got too much to do. Besides, I’m not tired.”
“Sure.” He rolled his eyes and went back to his book.
The rest of the day dragged on. You had busied yourself with small tasks that needed to be done during the day and then once all of those were done, you had spent some time in the training room to work on your technique, but your movements were slow and well below par so eventually you gave up, slipped off of the blue mat and dragged yourself towards the showers.
You twisted the dial all the way to the left, waiting for it to settle to an even temperature as you stepped out of your clothes. When you climbed into the shower, the cold water stung your skin as it ran down your back but it kept you wide awake and on your feet so with shaky hands you grabbed the shampoo bottles and began to massage it into your scalp. Although you were in and out quickly, by the time you were done and stepped out of the shower your body was wracked with shivers. Wrapping a thick white towel around you, you dried yourself off before changing into something comfier and creeping back down the stairs now feeling slightly more awake.
You made your way into the library, where shelves filled to the brim with books lined the walls. You ran your fingers against the shelves and noted that when you pulled your hand away you had collecting a thin sheen of dust.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Tim was rounding the corner to return his book that had been absentmindedly flicking through the all day but found that it didn’t give him the thrill he was looking for, so he had wandered back to the library to select another on me when he heard you shuffling around.
“But it needs to be done-“
“Alfred will do it.” Tim told you, placing a large hand on your shoulders and steering you away from the shelves after you had selected a book. A blue hardback covered dainty little flowers embroidered along the spine.
“But he already has so much to do.” You protested.
“It’s his job, y/n/n. And you need to get some sleep.”
You sighed. “I’m not tired, Tim. Seriously lay off it.”
He raised his hands in surrender and wheeled away in a huff. You settled down on the plush sofa, bringing your knees to your chest to read under the gentle light and revel in the silence for just a few moments. Tim settled opposite you, sprawling out across the other couch.
For the next few hours the only sound that filled the room was the gentle flick of turning pages. That was until the other three came bundling in, but you didn’t notice. You had drifted off into a mindless sleep.
You were woken to a a gentle nudge on your shoulder and you sat up abruptly.
“Hmm? What?”
“You fell asleep.” Jason told you.
“No I didn’t…” you mumbled.
Jason pursed his lips. “I think you did.”
You blinked at him.
“Seriously, y/n just go to bed.” Damian told you.
You contemplated for a moment before hauling yourself up onto your feet. You stumbled across the room when a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over you and you were forced to grip onto the counter to keep yourself upright. When you moved to take another step, dragging your feet along the carpet you stumbled again.
“Alright. That’s it.” Dick stood up and moved across the room with one big stride, picking you up effortlessly and throwing you over his shoulder.
“Hey! Put me down.”
Someone snickered behind you.
“No can do little bat. You’re going to bed.”
He hauled you off to your room ignoring your remarks and pointless excuses. When he reached your door, he threw you over his shoulder and onto the bed. You tried to crawl away, but he just grabbed your ankle and pushed you back onto your pillows.
“Sleep.” He told you firmly, using his voice that only came out when he was ordering the rest of you around during a patrol. You pouted, glaring at him through hooded eyes, but he just gave you a little smirk, drew the curtains and moved to the door ignoring your antics.
“Goodnight, y/n. Sleep well.”
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
<- DAY 25 ⛤ DAY 27 ->
Taglist:
@deans-spinster-witch
@senjoritanana
@amaryllis23
#whumptober#whumptober2023#whumptober23#no.26#working to exhaustion#tiredness#Batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#batfam x sister reader#Batfamily x sister reader#jason Todd x reader#dick Grayson x reader#Tim drake x reader#Damian Wayne x reader#jason Todd x sister reader#dick Grayson x sister reader#tim drake x sister reader#Damian Wayne x sister reader#exhaustion#tired#self harm#minor self harm#lack of sleep#insomnia#sleep deprived#hard working#dc fanficion
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