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#a hundred different kisses writing game
134340am · 2 years
Note
lovesick samu but he's also your best friend 😭😭
13. pulling your lover closer by the waistband
miya osamu x gn!reader, 1k words, sfw / pet names: darlin’ + baby part of my mini series: you look like a dream i never want to wake up from
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“are ya done yet?”
you hop on the spot, pulling your jeans up. “no, why—” hop, hop, “—do you ask, ‘samu?”
“because i wanna see!” 
his voice sounded much nearer now, as if he was hovering expectantly outside your changing room.
“i wasn’t aware i had to show you what i’m wearing,” you say, casting a nervous glance in the mirror at your rumpled state. your hair was a mess, courtesy of the top you pulled over your head just moments prior, your sneakers were kicked off to the side carelessly so you could tug on your jeans, and goodness, your socks weren’t even matching—the left one a vibrant strawberry pink, the right one a dark ocean blue. 
“ya have to, darlin’, i’m pretty sure it’s standard protocol,” osamu sings teasingly. 
“i’m pretty sure it isn’t,” you scoff back. 
“i’m comin’ in!”
“no, ‘samu, you are not—”
“i’m giving ya five seconds, so get decent! five, four—”
“wait, wait!”
“three, two, two and a half, two and a quarter…” 
“miya osamu! don’t you dare—”
“aaaand one! ya ready?”
before osamu could try anything, you whip back the flimsy velvet curtain of your tiny changing room, scowling back at your boyfriend. he looked way too pleased with himself, grinning like the cat who got the cream. and while you were annoyed by how he couldn’t just wait, you found yourself feeling more shy than anything else, shrinking in on yourself under the way osamu’s gaze swallowed you up. 
stupid ‘samu and his stupid smile and his impatient dumb ass and— 
“ya look lovely, darlin’.” 
before you knew it, osamu's huge frame was bullying you back into the dressing room, backing you up against the mirror as he flipped the curtain close behind him.
“‘samu, i don’t think you’re allowed in here.” 
“just wanna take a closer look at ya, i’ll get out in a minute.” his eyes scan over your face, then trail down over your top—its ribbon still undone—and your jeans, hastily tugged on. “ya look so pretty, darlin’. like a doll.” 
you freeze up at the proximity, immediately thinking back to your stint in the supply closet exactly a week ago. osamu clearly thinks nothing of it, stepping into your personal space to lace up the ribbons on your top. your eyes stay glued to his shirt. there was absolutely no way you could look him in the eye—not with his hands on you like this, not with him so close, not when you could feel his warm breath kissing your cheek.
“t-thanks, ‘samu,” you stutter out unsurely. “no thanks for barging in, though.”
he chuckles, a soft, hearty sound that fills the changing room. the tension in your shoulders melts away ever so slightly and you lean back against the mirror, watching as osamu laces up the rest of your top.
“sorry darlin’, i just couldn’t wait. one, because i picked this top—” he punctuates his point with a quick tug to the ribbon, cinching the top at your waist, “—and two, because i bet ya looked beautiful and i wanted to see ya as soon as i could.” 
your lover finishes up the ribbon before smoothing his hands over your hips, stepping back ever so slightly to admire his work. you shift under his gaze, sock-clad toes curling up under your feet in embarrassment. it must be a new relationship kinda thing, you tell yourself. you’ll get used to this eventually—the bold touches, the sweet praise, the honeyed affection that drips from his gaze.
“watcha thinkin’ bout, baby?” 
you hum, peering up at your lover through your lashes. “thinking about… how i’m not used to this.”
“to what? the top? is it uncomfy? did i make it too tight?”
“no no, the top is fine.” you reach out to right osamu’s collar and pick a stray hair off his shirt. “i guess i’m just not used to us…” you gulp, eyes fixed to the top button of his shirt. “to us dating. it’s weird, after we’ve been friends for so long. it’s like we’re best friends with benefits and the benefits include hugging, kissing, and, um, you grabbing my butt.” 
his eyebrows shoot up in amusement. “me grabbing yer butt is a benefit?”
“...you know what i mean.” 
“yer so cute, darlin’. and for the record,” your lover leans in, hands still gripping your hips, “grabbing yer butt is a benefit for me, too.” 
“‘samu, you perv.”
“i wanna kiss ya. so bad. will ya let me?” 
your eyes widen, and you curse internally, wholly unprepared—for the way his nose brushes against yours gently, for the way his eyes have drooped to a half-lidded gaze full of want and adoration, for the way he loops his fingers into the waistband of your jeans.
“‘samu, we— we’re in public right now,” you whisper, unable to tear your eyes away from his.
“there’s no one here but us,” he urges you, pulling you closer. “please, darlin’. ya look so sweet and pretty and i really want a kiss. please? just one.” 
your hands come up to steady yourself against his firm chest, forehead to forehead with your lover now. as the distance between the two of you narrows, the more your resolve crumbles.
osamu stops short of your lips, eyes fluttering close in wait. 
you realise then and there that he’s letting you decide. 
you close your eyes and dive in. 
the kiss was short and sweet, the pair of you still too shy to venture anywhere too far for now. but just like every kiss you’ve shared with osamu so far, this one was as memorable as the last. you sigh into his mouth, arms looping around his neck to bring him closer, and melt into the heat of his body. into him. 
“wow,” gasped your lover after breaking away from the kiss. you watch, mesmerised, as he opens his eyes slowly, blinking leisurely like a sleepy, satisfied kitten. cute.
“you okay, ‘samu?” you ask, caressing his cheek. 
“yeah yeah, ‘m good.” he leans into your touch and you feel his cheek plumping up in a smile. “just thinkin’ bout how the benefits of being best friends with benefits are pretty damn amazing.” 
“‘samu!”
“nice socks, by the way.”
“oh my god, get out!”
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a/n: lovesick samu supremacy!!!
you look like a dream i never want to wake up from — series masterlist
a hundred different kisses — series masterlist
everything else — main masterlist
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Text
magnus is hot in a scrunkly way. when people first see him, their first thought is "why does he look like that." but not altogether in a bad way. the confusion makes it better.
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okay-babe · 2 months
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Saw your Alastor request game and HAD to give it a try
A wholesome “ZIP ME”. Alastor helping with getting ready for the day or assist and just shows appreciation 🥰🥰🥰🥰
In love with you for requesting this prompt because I am in such a fluff writing mood rn <3
(Also for my anons who also requested this prompt, I still plan to write something for those as well, so they should be out before too long!)
Morning Routine
tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, extreme levels of fluff, domestic bliss, soft alastor
Throughout your life (and death) you had woken up to many a nice view, from the rivers and lush wetlands of Louisiana to the sight of the city hundreds of feet below you.
And yet, none compared to the view of your beloved when he was half-ready for his day, which was typically the stage at which he woke you from your always deep and well needed slumber.
And today was no different.
Alastor hummed a distantly familiar tune from behind your still sleeping form as he slid in beside you on the bed you shared, body resting atop the covers as he leaned forward to press a kiss behind your ear. In response, you shifted slightly, nose scrunching the smallest bit as your lover's breaths tickled the soft flesh he had so very recently offered his affections to.
Alastor chuckled slightly under his breath at the sight, raising a gloved hand up to the exposed portion of your upper arm to run a feather-light touch down its length, immediately causing you to shiver.
After a few more moments of tickling breaths and nearly fleeting touches, your breathing pattern shifted slightly, eyes blinking open and squinting at the sudden invasion of light that was always there to greet you each morning.
Groaning softly, you were quick to close your eyelids once more, brow furrowed with displeasure at your wakefulness as the Radio Demon laughed beside you.
"Why good morning, dearest, how lovely to see you!"
He teased exuberantly as you huffed in reply, just barely opening your eyes enough to make it obvious that you were glaring at him before closing them once more to yawn.
"Ah ah ah,"
Your lover tutted from beside you, his grin wide and immensely amused as he continued,
"I'm afraid the time for rest is over, my dear. No more exhaustion allowed."
You scoffed in response, only just barely fighting off the urge to flip him off as you sat up slightly, tugging your knees toward your chest and blinking your blurred vision away to the sound of barely moving water and a whispered breeze that always seemed to flow through the far less inhabitable side of the room you and your husband slept in.
Satisfied with your vague efforts to get up for the day, Alastor hummed in contentment, standing just as he always did after waking you so he could continue his typical routine, allowing your hungry eyes to follow him eagerly.
It was like this every morning, and you'd be a fool to believe he didn't know and find some semblance of amusement within it, but even still you couldn't bring yourself to care.
You gained far too much enjoyment from watching your love's lithe and nimble fingers do up the buttons of his shirt and tie the fabric of his bow tie to feel any shame over it.
Or, at least, enough shame to make you stop.
You continued your enraptured staring for several more minutes, eyes trained heavily on the view of the overlord rolling up his sleeves and sliding his belt through the loops of his dress slacks as if he were a modern art exhibit designed to utterly enthrall you.
Your gawking continued all the way up until Alastor turned back toward where you were sitting upon the bed, his head tilted slightly in mock curiosity as he began to approach you once more, donning all but his coat, a sight which made you blush in spite of yourself.
Sure, you had known the demon for an extremely long time and had seen him in far more compromising and promiscuous positions and outfits than this, but still. There was just something about the sight of him, dress shirt sleeves rolled up over his elbows and svelte torso and legs so clearly in view, that made your heart rate quicken inside your chest.
"You're going to be late, you know."
Alastor all but crooned suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie with a few quick blinks and an awkward clear of your throat.
"Huh?"
You asked, sitting up slightly further as your lover began to leisurely unfold the clothing he'd laid out for you at the foot of the bed earlier that morning, no doubt all too aware of how slow you were prone to waking up and hoping to save some time.
The overlord chuckled, a subtle shake of his head highlighting his amusement as he looked in your direction once more, red eyes lingering in a manner that reminded you of just how tremendously the being standing at the end of the bed adored you.
He regarded you with a gentle and exasperated fondness as he replied,
"The reopening is today, dear heart."
He purred, grin as wide as ever as he approached further, extending his hand outward and helping to maneuver you so your legs were hanging off the side of the bed, ignoring the sudden panic in your expression brought on by his words and quickly silencing it before it could be vocalized with a quick press of his lips to yours.
He pulled away slowly afterward, index finger curling beneath your chin and lifting it to ensure you were looking him in the eye,
"And whatever would we do without our darling front desk receptionist there to woo our guests on sight?"
His tone was teasing now, lilting and oh-so amused as he took both of your hands in his and slowly pulled you upward and onto your feet, humming that same distantly familiar tune from earlier all the while.
"Not to worry though."
Alastor continued with a mocking tap of his index finger against the tip of your nose,
"With my help you'll be up and ready with time to spare."
He winked at that, instantly causing you to roll your eyes before knowingly bringing your arms up above your head, causing your love's grin to widen further at your immediate understanding of what was to come.
"Well look at you!"
He cried with feigned surprise and delight as he grasped gently at the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it upward and over your head with a flourish before he knelt down before you and pulled your underwear downward just the same, his eyes never once leaving yours as he did so.
"You're becoming a regular pro at this, darling."
You scoffed a bit at that, though your lack of exasperation was made clear by the lifted corners of your mouth, never quite able to lay flat with your Alastor around.
Humming a different tune now, the sinner reached behind you on the bed to grasp at a new pair of undergarments for you, holding them open to make them easy to step into before pulling them up and rising with them, laying the fabric flat upon your hips before moving to help you with your bra.
Far too used to this process by now, you simply sighed and let your lover do as he would, your still tired body leaning into his every touch as he ran skilled fingertips up and down your spine and pressed them dexterously into the tense muscles of your shoulders until he felt you were sufficiently relaxed beneath his hands.
Once that was finished, he was quick to have you sit upon the bed, long fingers grabbing at your stockings and garters and bunching them up expertly before sliding them onto your feet and up your soft legs and thighs with ease, though he was notably slower with this task than he'd been with the previous two, taking his time to admire you and allowing his hands to feel your skin before covering it with the fabric in his grasp.
When he was finally satisfied with the state of your stockings, Alastor leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of you with a pleased smile and an ever adoring look in his eye before he placed twin kisses against the skin just above where your garters held your stockings into place, as if in farewell.
It was then and only then, with his desires to admire you satisfied (at least in part) that your beloved grabbed your work attire from the bed. It was something he had chosen for you himself when considering the concept of uniforms, a sweet yet professional looking black dress that you knew from having tried it on a few days prior fit you perfectly, (no doubt because your lover had long since memorized your measurements and given them to the tailor himself).
Pooling the rich fabric at your feet, Alastor looked up at you expectantly, and immediately, you stepped into the middle of it, allowing him to once more pull another garment up your body, rising with it as he had previously with your underwear until your arms were in the sleeves and all there was left to do was zip up the back.
Feeling the cool breeze upon your spine, you shivered slightly, the difference in temperatures striking.
"Al,"
You murmured, adjusting your hair to ensure it wouldn't get in the way of what came next,
"Would you mind?"
Immediately, the overlord was nodding in almost enthusiastic agreement, motioning for you to turn around for him to provide access to the still unzipped portion of your dress.
"Why of course not, dear heart. Let me see."
Blushing at the nickname in spite of it having seen years of persistent use, you did as you were told, turning 180 degrees until you were facing away from your lover, back bared to him so his deft fingers could easily find the gold trimmed zipper there.
Grasping onto the metal between his thumb and forefinger, the demon slowly began to tug it upward with a notable level of patience, his opposite hand moving to your shoulder to push at some of the fabric there until he'd created a patch of bare flesh to press a few soft kisses to, his teeth nipping at you ever so gently from time to time just to make you jump in surprise at the unexpected sensation.
This continued for a few quiet and very much appreciated moments until finally, the overlord moved away with a dramatized sigh, pulling the black fabric of your sleeve back over your shoulder before he finished zipping your dress up the rest of the way.
Hearing your darling take a step back from where he'd been standing just behind you, you were quick to turn around to face him, your smile growing brighter when you saw the immediate fondness and adoration in his eyes, that thinly veiled softness he reserved solely for you so very apparent that it made your heart lurch happily inside of your chest.
"What do you think, Al, am I presentable?"
You asked lightheartedly, giving him a slow spin as if wanting to make sure he saw every possible angle.
Alastor all but scoffed in response, though his eyes betrayed his affections far too obviously, making it easy to tell just how much he was enjoying your slightly slower morning together.
"Don't be silly darling, you're always the belle of the ball."
He teased, reaching out to take one of your hands in his eyes as he spoke, using it to tug you closer until you were nearly chest to chest with him, eyes widened in surprise.
The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, warm, loving, and slow, before he finally pulled away with a sigh, expression contented and smile exceedingly genuine.
"Come on then, dear."
He said after a moment of silence, stepping away once more to guide you toward the bathroom attached to the room the two of you slept in,
"Let's finish getting you ready before Charlotte sends poor Vagatha after us for being so late."
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paladinncleric · 2 months
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Kitchen Capers.
Pairing(s): Jenna Ortega x fem!reader
Summary: Jenna and R's attempt at 'cooking'
Warning(s): fluff
Words: 1k+
A/N: Not a big fan of this, but kinda enjoyed writing it. Hope you like it!
Request
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"Babe." Jenna poked my cheek as I concentrated on beating my highest score on Flappy Bird.
"What?" I said giving her a quarter of my attention.
"Babe." She poked my cheek again.
"Whaaat?"
"Babeeeee" She said as she repeatedly poked my cheek.
I groaned as I stared at the 'Game Over' on my screen just a few points away from my top score. I looked at her sitting beside me on the couch giving me her best innocent smile as I glared at her.
"Now what exactly do you need me for, Your Highness?"
She climbed up on my lap, straddling me, as she squished my cheeks together causing me to look like a duck, she repeatedly pecked my squished-up lips as I sat there with my arms crossed, which I eventually melted into cause who could resist her kisses? Certainly not me.
"Stop being cute and tell me what you want." I said as I caressed both her thighs exposed from her shorts while she caressed my neck, still in my lap.
"I was thinking we could make pasta to take to my mom's tonight."
"Okay...that sounds easy enough?"
"It's not."
"It's not?"
"I was thinking of making it from scratch..." Said Jenna trailing off absentmindedly playing with my shirt.
"Oh like not the store-bought kind?" I asked and she nodded.
"Well...can you?"
See, after recently moving in together we realized neither of us are all that big into cooking, with me lacking the skill and Jenna's career keeping her away most of the time. So, I've taken up some cooking classes to at least be able to feed both of us. But it's only been like a week so my skills are nowhere near good enough, I don't wanna accidentally poison someone. That's why we've been striving off of takeouts and dinners in her parent's place every once in a while.
Which is also why we've been invited to her family's house tonight for dinner, and Jenna being Jenna was determined to show them that she's capable of living alone without their help.
"Of course I can, I've watched my mom make it a hundred times." She said as she looked at me with furrowed eyebrows.
I chuckled and said to her, "Babe I'm sure you're aware that there's a difference between watching someone make it and making it yourself."
She stared at me annoyed, "Obviously, but how hard can it be right? I'm pretty sure I know all the stuff that goes in there."
"Are you actually sure? Cause we can call your mom an-"
"No! I want to do it all by myself and without her help for once."
I sighed at her stubbornness and said with my eyes narrowed "If I die tonight because of your food, I'm haunting you for the rest of your life."
"Wouldn't want it any other way, baby." She said with a chuckle and a quick kiss to my cheek and got up from my lap already on her way to the kitchen.
I sighed as I fall back on the couch and I pulled out my phone again to try and beat my score for the 5th time, but as soon as I got comfortable Jenna's voice boomed through the house.
"GET YOUR ASS IN THE KITCHEN Y/L/N, I WON'T SAY IT TWICE."
I groaned as I got up and made my way to the kitchen with slumped shoulders and mumbled a quiet "Yes mom."
Jenna immediately turned towards me again and asked with a glare "What was that?" Making it clear she heard me.
"Nothing." I said avoiding eye contact with her.
"That's what I thought. Now, get to work." She said then went back to taking out all the ingredients, which I followed to do after dramatically groaning.
**********
"Uh babe are you sure we added the right things?" I said as I looked at her trying to massage the watery dough.
"I mean, yeah, I'm pretty sure." She said with furrowed eyebrows and flour covering almost every inch of her face. I chuckled as I took a towel and turned her face towards me as I gently cleaned her face. After I was done, I gave her a kiss on her nose as she smiled at me softly and I smiled back.
"Thanks." She whispered.
I caressed her cheek with my hands as I replied, "You're welcome, gorgeous." She kissed my chin then went back to her work.
I watched her struggle for 10 more minutes as I say, " Uh we can check google if you want?"
"No! Nope! I said I'm not taking any help tonight. I'll figure it out myself." Jenna's stubborn ass said.
I sighed as I leaned back against the counter knowing it's gonna take a while. I would try and help her normally, but in these situations I'm even worse than her.
I watched her for a while, now with an hour and a half till we need to leave. When finally, she groaned and pushed away from the dough. She turned around almost into tears. I open my arms for her as she stumbles into it, her holding the back my shirt as I rub her back while trying not to instinctually move away from the wet dough smearing on my shirt from her hands.
"I really thought *sniffle* I could do this."
"Hey it's ok babe, don't be sad. I can totally become the perfect housewife/trophy wife for you after I'm done with my course. I mean, c'mon, at that point I'll almost be a professional chef."
"Shut up." She said with a giggle as she backed away from the hug and wiped under her eyes with her dough hands as she froze.
I saw her analyzing everything with wide eyes, to my dough-covered shirt, to her dough covered clothes from vigorous stirring of the dough, to her face now filled with dough to her hair and the kitchen floor covered in flour. Then finally, her eyes landed on the clock above my head which read exactly an hour left to leave.
"Shit!" She exclaimed as she ran for the bathroom.
"Hey! I need to shower too!" I yelled after her.
"Join me!"
I smirked at that and was about to respond, when she said, "Without your unholy thoughts!"
I laughed to myself, as I quickly cleaned the floor and threw the dough away while trying not to touch it. After about 10 minutes I was done, as I stripped my clothes along the way to the bathroom and threw it on the floor of the laundry room.
I finally got in the shower, as I saw Jenna washing her hair butt naked. I smirked and went to slide my hands around her waist, when she abruptly turned around and said with narrowed eyes.
"Don't even think about it."
I threw my hands up in surrender as I exaggeratedly looked her up and down with a teasing smile on my face. She groaned and went back to showering as I joined her under the water.
**********
After showering, I wear some slightly baggy jeans with a button-up and my converse, while Jenna wears something similar too.
We both nod at each other with an approving smile, as we run towards the door with us already being 15 minutes late.
We enter their house with Nat standing and pointing at her watch at the entrance. We both sheepishly smile as I give her a quick hug and Jenna gives her a kiss on the cheek as we both move on to greet the rest of the family.
"So, how's everything going back home? Settling well?" Jenna's dad, Ed asked us after we all finally settled on the table for dinner.
"I'm sure they are, was probably too busy 'unpacking' to get here on time." Aliyah said while quoting 'unpacking' with her fingers.
I coughed as I picked up my glass to drink my water so I didn't have to reply, while Jenna subtly kicked her under the table. I saw Aliyah wince as I struggled to hold my chuckle in.
"Everything's going great Dad." Jenna clarified.
"Except." I said as Jenna's head snapped towards me as she threatened me with her eyes.
"Don't you dare."
"Her attempt at spaghetti ended up failing so bad, it was hard to distinguish the edible part."
Aliyah and her parents burst out laughing, Jenna glared at me and smacked my shoulder with her hand as I stuck my tongue out at her.
"You could have asked for my help mija.”
I saw Jenna’s shoulder slump and she pouted at the table.
“I know but I wanted to prove a point.” She grumbled as she shoved bread in her mouth.
“Yea you proved it very well.” Aliyah said sarcastically.
“I’m still proud of you for trying at least, God help me I don’t wanna step foot in a kitchen anytime soon.” I said exasperatedly.
“You ever plan on cooking?” Asked Aliyah.
“Of course but only when I have the assurance I can cook something decent and won’t burn the house down.”
“Take all the time you need, Y/N. At least in this way I get to see my daughter more often.” Said Ed taunting Jenna.
“Daaaaaad.” Whined Jenna
“What?” Said Ed laughing at his daughter as she sat pouting again.
“Okay that’s enough, let the poor girl eat.” Said Natalie as she shook her head smiling.
**********
I unlocked the door as Jenna stomped in and went straight to our room as I sighed at her child-like antics. How can a person be so poise and yet childish? Fuck if I know. I locked the door behind me as I approached our bedroom slowly dreading what I’d have to face. I get in the room to see her getting ready to wipe her makeup already in her sleeping clothes. I stood there staring at her through the reflection of the mirror. Her eyes caught mine as she raised her eyebrows at me as I squinted my eyes at her.
“Do you have something to say?” She asked.
“Uh no…do you?” I replied as I stared at her confused.
“No…?”
“Oh okay great!” I brightened up significantly as I thought she had forgiven me.
I happily walked to the bathroom. Did all the necessary things, emptied my stomach, changed clothes, brushed. I happily trudged back into my room to see Jenna taking up the whole bed and my pillow nowhere to be seen.
Uh oh.
“So uh dumb question but where’s my pillow?”
“Oh they’re on the couch.”
Well, shit.
“My I ask why…?”
She just stared at me blankly as she faced away from me. I sighed and groaned as I flopped on the bed, half on her and half on the bed.
“I’m sorryyyy, we just always joke about your culinary skills and I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
“I told you I was trying to prove my independency to them, but you saying that proved the opposite.”
“Jen I’m pretty sure they know you’re independent, you literally travel country from country shooting films, most of the time alone.” I said as I looked at her quizzically.
“Well…yea but they were still reluctant with me moving in with you.” She countered back.
I laughed as I pull my head up to look at her and say “That’s because you’re their little girl and of course they’re gonna be sad and kinda worried about you moving out of their home for the first time.”
Jenna groaned as she put a pillow on top of her face and said “I knowww it’s just them being so, I don’t know, over-protective this way makes me feel like they don’t trust me with taking care of myself.”
“At the end of the day, they still let you right? focus on that. I think they let you ‘cause they know I’ll be here.” I said with a smug smile as Jenna rolled her eyes at the bullshit I just spewed.
“Also I think you’re parents think we’re like, some sort of, sex crazed people...oh my god is this why they were reluctant?” I said as I made a ‘mind blown’ face.
“No, of course not why would they think that?” Jenna said as she looked at me confused.
“Well with the way your mom makes sure we have weekly check-ups and your dad’s The, by the way very terrifying, ‘Talk’ he gave me I’m pretty sure they do.”
“Oh my god, shut up you’re being ridiculous.” Jenna said laughing as I smiled finally hearing it.
We laid there for a while, me half on her and half on the bed as she stroked my hair. After a while, she stops and says.
“I’m still mad at you though.”
“Oh please, woman you’re not fooling anyone.” I say as I get up to get my pillow back.
“Ugh you’re lucky you’re cute." She said and I responded with a 'duh' face.
"The lower half of my body is numb because of you asshole.” Jenna said as she wiggles her toes in my face as I stand in the doorway of our bedroom and smack her feet away.
“This is what it feels like being the bigger spoon most of the time, except it's the upper half, so now YOU deal with it.” I say as I quickly stick my tongue out and move out of the way as a pillow comes straight to the door. I stuck my head in again as I look at the pillow and her on the bed with deadpan eyes and say.
“Hahaha you miss-“ a pillow smacks against my face.
“Now go get your pillow and hurry up I’m tired.” Jenna said as she situated herself on the bed again.
“Yes ma’am.”
**********
“Does it actually feel bad to be the bigger spoon?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“But you just said.”
“I like it as long as you’re my little spoon.”
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literallykenmaandshoyo · 10 months
Text
Type Of Boyfriend They Are
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Karasuno x Gender Neutral!Reader Headcanons
Warnings: Language. That's pretty much it.
Author's Note: I've been having a pretty heavy case of writer's block especially with a lot of things going on in my life right now. My mental health is a bit unstable, but I had this idea written down in my list of writing ideas and thought that it was so cute. I hope you all enjoy, and I'll probably make headcanons for the rest of the schools too!
Hope you all enjoy and I hope that you all are doing well <3
~Mod Shoyo <3
-Kageyama, Shoyo, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, Daichi, Asahi, Sugawara, Tanaka, Noya
Kageyama Tobio:
He’s very stand-offish when the two of you first meet
“uh… can I help you?”
Once the two of you get to know each other though, you find out that he’s actually a closeted crackhead under that harsh exterior he has
After dating for a couple of months, he’s very comfortable with you and loves spending time with you
QUALITY TIME AND GIFT GIVING BOYFRIEND.
Whether you like volleyball or not, he’s asking you to help him practice, come to his games, come to his practice matches, he wants you to be there for EVERYTHING
If you manage to show your support by making him a sign or putting his number on your cheeks at one of his games??????
He definitely will deny it, but he absolutely adores it.
“You should do this more often, it was sweet.”
Shoyo teases you guys all the time and says that you’re the only one that brings out the rational side of Tobio
That will normally end with Shoyo getting hurt somehow, no matter how much you tell Kageyama to leave him alone
You still love him though <3
Hinata Shoyo:
OH MY GODDDDDDDDD
The absolute biggest ball of sunshine ever
Golden. Retriever. Boyfriend. 
He’s very heavy on physical touch and quality time
No matter what you’re doing, Shoyo always wants to be there just to see what you’re doing
“Ooh whatcha up to lovey?”
He’s like a lap dog. He will lay his head in your lap just so he can stare up at you while you’re doing whatever you’re doing
Whenever you show up to his games he gets SO NERVOUS???? Like his stomach issues multiply by a hundred because you’re literally in the stands to watch HIM.
In the end, he always tries his best because he wants you to be so proud of him and enjoy watching him play!!
Everyone on the team loves you, you’re literally the only person that can make Shoyo shut up for more than five minutes because he just LOVES to admire you and appreciate how perfect you are.
“You’re so gorgeous… we should like… kiss or something.”
He’s so affectionate it’s too cute.
Yamaguchi Tadashi:
Tadashi just loves when you’re being you.
He’s always sneaking glances at you and just thinking about how soft your features are and how lucky he is to have bagged someone like you.
GIFT GIVING. GIFT GIVING. GIFT GIVING.
“Hey love, I found this super cute keychain while I was at the store with Tsuki the other day and it reminded me of you!”
“I remember you saying that this was your favorite and they only had one left, so I had to get it before someone else that wasn’t you did!”
He’s just so thoughtful. He always remembers the little things.
The very first day you kissed him? He celebrates it every year by giving you a million smooches.
You only like one very specific flavor of ice cream? He will never ever give you a different flavor and goes to multiple stores if he has to when they don’t have it
He isn’t the biggest with PDA, but he will most definitely hold your hand and kiss your cheek, forehead, or your hand.
He just gets a little shy when he’s out in public with you, but only because he doesn’t want other people looking at you and thinking that they have a chance with you.
He’s so non-confrontational, but if push comes to shove, he’ll make sure that everyone knows you’re his.
He just loves you so much and he’s so glad that you’re his. Forever. <3
Kei Tsukishima:
HE’S SO SARCASTIC IT’S ANNOYING.
Likes to play this game in public where he acts like he isn’t your boyfriend
“Excuse me, do I know you?”
HE LITERALLY HELD HANDS WITH YOU WALKING INTO THE STORE?!?!??!
You can be sarcastic too, so he’s just glad that you can take jokes and rip on his teammates or randos in the street
This dude has such a killer resting bitch face when he notices people eyeing you.
Noya tested his luck flirting with you one time and, despite Noya being his upperclassman, Tsuki almost killed him with just one look
He secretly loves how much you fuss over him.
“Babe, your glasses are so DIRTY. Here let me clean them before you run into something,”
He literally stopped the habit of cleaning his lenses because you’ll just take them and clean them for him
He loves watching you fog the lenses up with your breath and wipe them with the microfiber cloth that came in his case
Even if you only look like a big blur of colors to him and you’re all blurry <3
Tanaka Ryuunosuke:
The most respectful yet horny boyfriend at the same time
“What the hell do you mean that guy cat called you?”
He says as his hand is resting on your ass, giving it an occasional squeeze from time to time.
Very overprotective, but not in an overbearing way
Despite how loud and chaotic he may be (especially when he’s with Noya) he always picks up on your small cues and knows when you’re uncomfy or feeling a little out of place
He loves to bring you up at all times
“You know that’s crazy, because my baby loves to eat meat buns and can easily smash like seven of them in one sitting. *sigh* I’m so in love.”
Daichi literally just told him what he ate for lunch today when Tanaka asked.
PDA is his JAM.
Always has a hand somewhere on you and loves how you just nuzzle into his touch whenever he’s with you
It’s everything he’s ever wanted in life and he’s so stoked that he finally has it
His favorite place is your ass though. It’s easy access and it’s very soft and comfy in his palm
Nishinoya Yuu:
SOMEONE SEDATE HIM HE’S SO ENERGETIC
The type of boyfriend to annoy you and push your buttons all day and then just lay a million kisses all over your face at the end of the day as he tells you how much he loves you
He’s so hyped up to do anything with you
He’s definitely the type to enjoy running errands with you because he pretends that you’re married already and that these errands are just married couple tingz
He loves to embarrass you in public
Yall will be at a store while you’re just looking at clothes and trying to find some new outfits before he starts yelling as loud as he can so that people from five aisles down can hear him
“OH MY GOD YOU CAN’T STEAL THAT SHIRT BABE, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!?!?!”
You literally walk away and act like you don’t know him for the rest of the day
Nonetheless, he’s so appreciative of you and makes sure you know how much he loves you
The second that you first announced to the team that you were dating, you could’ve sworn you saw tears of joy falling from Kiyoko’s eyes
You keep him grounded and always help bring him out of the dark places his mind goes to when he messes up during games
Hearing you tell him how good of a libero he is and how amazing he is always snaps him out of things. He’d be a wreck without you
Daichi Sawamura:
The most caring boyfriend ever literally what the fuck-
He worries about your well-being all the time and isn’t afraid to show how much he cares about you no matter where you guys are
Sure, he’ll scold you for being clumsy and tripping in the gym, but also?
“Why the hell did they wax the floors before we started practicing? We’re just gonna dirty them again anyways?”
He’s such a passionate lover
“Hey, you look like you’ve got a lot on your mind. What can I do to fix that?”
SO MATURE IN A RELATIONSHIP.
He’s so good with communicating his feelings to you and wants you to know whatever’s going on with him and reassure you no matter what
Absolutely adores pressing kisses to your temples. He loves how you just stare into his eyes with the biggest smile ever and can see your pupils shift into hearts every time he does it
The two of you just make so much sense being together? Match made in heaven type of shit
His very older brother/dad morals have rubbed off on you and now you’re yelling at the boys the same way that he does. 
He always whispers to Suga or Asahi about how proud he is of you while watching you scold someone for being immature 
Asahi Azumane:
The literal definition of Cottage Core
When you hung out with him at his house for the first time, he had so many succulents and well-cared for plants
He’s so soft, he just loves you so much
He loves when you give him scalp massages after taking his bun down
Whenever you go to his house after practice, he’ll shower and have you wash his hair for him because he can’t relieve the tension he feels on his head like you do
He writes you love letters and leaves them in such random places for you to find
“Hey honey, did you leave a letter in my bento box? When I opened it, it had a little bit of curry sauce on it.”
He just blushes and giggles slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
Loves to call you the cringiest/cutest pet names ever.
Honey pie, sweetums, sugar plum…
You giggle every time he says it out loud because his teammates can’t help but make fun of him whenever they hear it
They’re so cringe coming out of anyone else’s mouth. Not his though <3
Sugawara Koushi:
You will never ever catch Suga smelling bad.
Even after practice, you can’t smell that musty stench of sweat on him because it’s masked by all the deodorant he puts on.
MOST DEFINITELY smells like a bath and body works scent. It changes depending on the season and he loves smelling good according to the season
“Suga, is that… champagne toast?”
You bet your sweet ass it is.
Suga gives the most heartfelt and warm hugs in the world, it’s like hugging a warm blanket.
He’s so loving and it shows in all of his words and actions.
“Aww darling, let me wipe your nose. I told you it was going to be cold and to wear a thicker sweater when we talked on the phone this morning,”
When he says stuff like that his face is literally just >:(
His kisses are so soft. He loves to kiss your nose because of the way it scrunches up after his lips leave
“Do you not like my kisses?” Smooch. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Mwuah. “I won’t stop until you accept my kisses.”
You just keep scrunching it because you love when he kisses you. He knows that, he just loves to make it a little fake argument between you two <3
1K notes · View notes
allywthsr · 4 months
Text
WRAPPING HIS PRESENTS | (l.norris)
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summary: you wrap Lando’s presents
wordcount: 1.1k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: like two sexual things, but nothing graphic
notes: what are we thinking?
advent calendar
You sat on the floor in the living room, Lando was currently in the gym, training for the next two hours. It was time to wrap his presents, the rest of the presents, for the other people of your family, were already wrapped and stored away in a closet in the guest room. Now the only things that were missing, were his presents, in front of you laid multiple things you bought for Lando, grabbing the red wrapping paper with little Santa’s and reindeer on it. You took the scissors and cut off a piece of the paper, grabbing the first present, a new hoodie from his favorite brand. You saw him check it out online and you could not not buy it for him, he almost bought it himself, but you could convince him, that you shouldn’t buy yourself things right before Christmas, so he didn’t.
Closing the wrapping paper with a few strips of tape, you took a sticker where you could write his name on it, and wrote ‘Lan’ in your best handwriting, even adding a small bow you bought in a little corner shop.
The next present was a bit more cheesy, it was a keyring for his keychain, made out of glass with his favorite picture of you two put in there, you knew he loved small things like that. It was small, but it meant something to him, and that’s most important.
You grabbed a different wrapping paper, now you had a dark blue one in your hand, and it was covered with golden stars. You didn’t want to go too overboard with his presents, but you knew he would, so you tried to give him something back, even tho you knew you didn’t have to. He was happy if you would give him a kiss on Christmas morning, but you weren’t satisfied with that, you tried to go bigger every year.
The next present was a small silly thing you found on Amazon while checking out, it was a scratch-off movie poster. The two of you could never decide what movie to watch, sometimes the planned movie night ended after one hour because you couldn’t find something to watch, either one of you has seen a film and the other hasn’t, or the genre wasn’t the right one, sometimes you just didn’t find one that fits in the mood and sometimes you couldn’t decide on one, because there are so many movies, you’ve watched together and all the good films have been watched by you two a hundred times. With that scratch-off poster, that problem would be solved and evenings that would be filled with looking through the whole Netflix catalog, while the other was also searching through different movie platforms, would be at least be over for a hundred days. He could just scratch off the material and each movie night, you wouldn’t have this discussion that annoyed both of you.
You, again, cut out a piece of paper and wrapped it around the rolled-up poster, sticking the sticker on it, and writing his name on it.
The next present was a silly present you found in a store, it was a small retro arcade machine, and he loved arcade games. It was a miniature arcade machine that he could take with him wherever he went if he was bored before a race. He would definitely play with it. It had games like Super Mario or Flappy Bird on it, perfect for Lando’s interest, he loved these old games he used to play as a kid. You put the batteries in the slot and wrapped the dark blue wrapping paper around it, closing it off with a few stripes of tape, writing his name on the sticker, and placing a bow on top of it as well, you bought a few bows in a dollar store, that would stick to the present without having to make the bow.
You went all out for presents this year, but you bought most of them on Black Friday, so the hundred and fifty pounds hoodie only cost ninety pounds, what a steal.
The next gift was more a fun gift than an actual useful gift, it was an indoor putting green, the long stripe of fake grass had a slight bend towards the end, so it wasn’t just a straight line that he had to play. He always told you that he hated it, when it rained and he wasn’t able to go golfing, he wanted to buy himself a putting green for the inside for a while now, yet, he never did. Lando could practice his putting skills and his swings, he would love it, it would annoy you for a few weeks, he sure would only do that for some days, but that’s fine. You took another roll of wrapping paper and cut off a piece, wrapping the edges around the box, sealing it with some tape, and sticking the sticker with his name on it.
The main present was a self-made one, a jar filled with three-hundred sixty-five little notes. He can pick one note every day for the next year, on the notes were little compliments, funny sayings, dirty talking, and declarations of love.
You worked on this for multiple days, cutting out three-hundred sixty-five colorful papers, was a task, that took you three days alone. Writing all the notes on the paper took you like a week and a half, it might sound like a lot, but you had to think about three-hundred sixty-five notes and write them on a small piece of paper while Lando does not notice you doing it. And since the winter break started, he was mostly home, so you had to do it when he was training or playing Fortnite or something.
Some examples of the notes are
⁃ thank you for you
⁃ I love you
⁃ I‘m glad my boyfriend has a big cock
⁃ I hope you have a good day
⁃ Thank you for every orgasm
It might be cheesy, but Lando and you are that couple that leaves little sticky notes around the house to make the other happy, the present was basically like the sticky notes but without sticking it somewhere.
You closed the lid from the jar and cut off a big piece of wrapping paper, wrapping it around the glass and closing the paper with tape, and sticking his name on top with it, just like a big bow.
You looked at the presents in front of you, you couldn’t wait for him to open all of them, you were sure he would be happy about every single one.
521 notes · View notes
totaly-obsessed · 6 months
Note
can you write for mary where readers ment to be away working but shows up at an important game and surprises her
Two-Week Notice
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Mary Earps x reader request
-> Domestic fluff, reader can't attend Mary's game but surprises her.
-> Also for this request
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Meeting Mary had been one of the best moments in your life. Not because it was such a nice or cute moment, but because it let Mary into your life – bettering it by a hundred times.
The goalkeeper had just moved into a new Apartment building after joining Manchester United after a season at Wolfsburg, and she had not met anyone in her building. Life had come at the 26-year-old hard and fast.
And just as fast came the first fire alarm at her new place, and while she had been warned that the alarm often malfunctioned, she would not take any chances. After a quick walk through her apartment, checking that every window was closed and that she had grabbed her essentials, she was out the door into the flooding rain.
You however had lived in the building for a while and should have a routine by now when you were rudely ripped out of your well-deserved sleep. But you did in fact not have a routine, panicking every time.
This day was no different.
You were the last one out of the building, as usual – with no jacket. The rain was not something that you took notice of at first, too shocked that there actually was a fire in the building. It was a taller woman, with a very friendly smile who made you aware. “Aren’t you cold, love?”
As if a switch had been flipped, you started to shiver. “Forgot my jacket.” Mary was a goner the second she saw you shivering in the cold rain, the only thing in your hands, being a pillow, while she had her entire training kit.
The footballer didn’t hesitate to extend her jacket around you, effectively pulling you so close to her, that you could feel the heat radiating off of her. “You don’t mind, do ya?”
That was the beginning of something wonderful. Before you started dating, many evenings were spent together as ‘friends’ cooking and watching movies together. You listened to Mary moan about training and her teammates and she would sit and listen to you complain about your annoying co-workers who apparently could not function without you.
And while it was easy to fall in love with Mary, it was even easier to love her.
It took two months until you officially started dating each other. The first move was made by Mary who just sat you down one evening and asked you out on a date. Just like that, with a calm and collected mind, like she was playing one of the biggest games of her life.
A year later you moved into her apartment. It was the bigger one and your lease came to an end. If the two of you were being honest you could have moved in with each other the second you started dating – you could practically count the days you had spent in your own four walls on one hand.
One of Mary’s favorite parts of living together was the joined naps. Most of the time when she had come home from training you were on the couch napping, trying to stay awake until the goalkeeper came home, but you never quite managed – too tired from the early shift you had worked. After changing she would join you on the couch, setting an alarm so that you would not sleep away the day.
Waking you from your slumber was another one of the brunettes’ favorite moments. You were just so cute. Scrunched nose, red cheeks, and adorable whining that it was much too cold. Mary tended to stare at you, tempted to let you sleep longer, before she eventually just kissed you awake, making you giggle – a noise she loved oh so much.
Once it was later at night and time for bed came the playful fighting. Your favorite topic to fight about? The blanket and Mary’s tendency of stealing it, which was bad enough, but also denying it – blaming it on you.
“Mary, stop hogging the blanket!” She was curled up in it like a burrito, leaving you with just a corner of it. “Mary? Who’s Mary? My name is Baby, or Love, or literally anything else.” She had turned over to you lightning fast when you had called her by her government name, clearly offended by it.
“Okay, ‘literally anything else’ move over, I wanna be warm.” A shriek of speechlessness filled the room when a mischievous smile took over her face. Carefully she unwrapped the blanket, and just as you thought that you had gotten what you wanted and could finally head to bed – she pounced.
“Mary, no. No. No! Don’t you dare! Mary!” your incredibly strong girlfriend had jumped up from the bed, picking you up and holding you like a baby, making you unable to move. You thrashed in her arms as well as you could. “I’m mad, Mary! Put me down. Put me dooown!”
Whining took over the room as you struggled, eventually making Mary lose her balance but before she dropped you and herself, she just threw her body forward, taking you with her, toppling onto the bed.
Silence filled the room for a minute, both of you lying on the messy bed. “Are you still mad?” Instead of answering you pressed your ice-cold feet onto Mary`s very warm back. Swears and shrieks left her mouth as she took your feet in her hands and jokingly rolled you over, straddling your lap. “Let’s see where this night is going, ey cheeky?”
---
---
One of your favorite aspects of living together, aside from getting to hang out with the love of your life for the entire day, was a joined wardrobe. In the beginning, both of you had sections in the huge dresser and wardrobe, but over time your section was left untouched and Mary kept missing things.
“Baby, have you seen my blue Nike hoodie?” The goalkeeper wanted to wear it to a nice night in with the Manchester City girls, but could not find it anywhere. “No! Try the bathroom.” Of course, you had seen the hoodie. You were in fact wearing it, but you hoped, that Mary wouldn’t notice.
At first, she did not, searching the entire apartment before flopping down on the couch, burying her face in your chest – when she noticed that the blue of your hoodie was familiar. “Baby, that’s mineee.” She whined at you, trying to take it off you. “Love – please no. It’s so cold without it.”
For ten long minutes Mary tried to get her clothes back when she discovered that you were also wearing her joggers and socks – but it was useless. She caved once she saw your cute pout. With a loud huff, she went back to the bedroom, getting dressed in a green version of the same hoodie. “Baby, we’re matching – look!” You excitedly held out your arm, showing the material to a very unimpressed lioness. “I think I should join you for dinner.”
“Nu-uh! You don’t deserve it – thief!” But once Mary was opening the front door, she turned to you, asking why you were not ready. She clearly didn’t expect you to be actually dressed.
But alas you were and accompanied her to dinner. While she acted all mad about it, you knew that she loved it – she loved seeing you with her teammates who took such great care of you.
The joined closet was a mutually loved concept – you loved wearing Mary’s clothes and she loved seeing you in them.
---
---
As much as you loved being a WAG, and attended every match Mary played, sometimes it just didn’t work out. That was the case for the quarterfinal of the European Championships on home soil, here in England. The girls were playing against Spain, a feisty match, an incredibly important one at that.
And you? Stuck at work.
Why? Because the men in your company decided to punish you, ‘losing’ the form you had handed in as a request to get the day off. So there you were, stuck at work while Mary was preparing for one of the most important games of her life – without you.
Not only did you have to be at work which was already annoying but your colleagues were weaponizing their incompetence more than usual, making you do everything. Just 20 minutes after kick-off you have had enough. So you stood up, entered your boss's office, and handed in your two-week notice that you had filled out for a while now.
And with that, you just left. Ignoring your boss and colleagues who told you that you could not just leave.
Ten minutes later you entered the Falmer stadium, joining Mary’s parents in the family section who immediately ushered you off to the changing rooms. It was eerily silent as you sat down in Mary’s cubby, fidgeting with her second pair of gloves.
Just a few minutes later you could hear a bunch of cleats hitting the floor, a nervous chatter filling the hallway. Leah was the first to enter, eyes wide in surprise when she saw you. But the skipper did not say anything, as did the others who followed.
As usual, Mary was one of the last people, busy talking to Millie about what they needed to change. She nearly just sat down on you, when she finally noticed. “Baby! I thought you couldn’t come!” Kisses were spread all over your face, the brunette being teased by the other lionesses.
Quietly you explained how you had gotten there, your girlfriend happy that you finally quit, when Sarina and the coaching staff joined the girls in the room. Mary had pulled you on her lap, holding you as close to her as she could, trying to calm down and compose her thoughts.
With a good-luck kiss on her lips and gloves she left for the pitch again. Alessia and Ella followed, also wanting a good-luck kiss on their foreheads, and soon the entire squad of the lionesses had gotten a forehead kiss from you – Mary watching with curious eyes.
---
The second half was tense, especially after Esther scored in the 54th minute. But it was a freshly substituted Ella who got the equalizer in the 84th before Georgia shot the game-winning goal in the 96th. But there were still 20 minutes to go, and Mary did brilliantly.
2-1 to England and the crowd erupted in cheers once the final whistle sounded.
It was Millie and Lucy who had made their way over to you, lifting you over the barrier and onto the pitch – just to be tackled by Ella. “Your kiss helped! Ya must be my lucky charm now.” The excited brunette kissed your cheeks over, and over again, giggling in excitement.
“Get your own good-luck charm Tooney!” Mary had finally gotten to you, pulling you out of Ella’s hands and into a bruising kiss that left Ella squealing. “It's like watching my parents make out!” But you were met with whistles and claps on the back by other lionesses, who laughed at Ella’s reaction.
“I don’t think you have a choice to be at the next game, babe. Good luck charm of the whole team.” Your girlfriend’s smile was infectious, making you laugh as well, knowing damn well that you would be there at the semi-final even if hell froze over.
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vixstarria · 6 months
Text
Another gift
This is a continuation of my headcanon of Astarion’s romance with bard Tav. I can’t remember the actual chronology of cutscenes, but let’s assume this takes place after you’ve started a sexual relationship with Astarion and are beginning to grow closer. I was going to take it in a different direction initially, but these things have a mind of their own once they get going. 
If you like it, check out my first fic. I do plan on writing more! 
P.S. I may have taken some liberties with the game background story and DnD lore and magic system here – if it doesn’t really match up or make sense – sorry! Also I’m still only on Act 2. 
Tav tries to comfort or distract a brooding Astarion. 
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav  
Comfort, fluff, budding love, humour, angst, banter, no spoilers, non-explicit 
Approximately 2,000 words. 
 
Astarion was standing outside his tent with his back to the camp, staring into a silver mirror. The man had either lost his vampiric condition, lost his mind, or was simply brooding.  
“Looking at something?” he asked absent-mindedly, as you approached. 
Brooding. Definitely brooding.  
“Looking for something.” 
“Oh?” He turned towards you. “Just my company, or is there something else I can offer you?” 
“I'm the one making an offering, actually. I thought I’d bring you a little snack” 
Astarion grinned and beckoned you inside his tent.  
Inside, aside from his bedroll, was a trunk with a large mirror opposite, a lit lantern and a scattering of weapons, equipment and books. You assumed your usual position, cross-legged on the bedroll, and offered him your wrist. This didn’t take long. Just a little pick me up.  
He finished, planting a light kiss on your wrist, reached for his amulet and whispered an incantation to heal the wound. He kept hold of your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.  
“Do you have any idea how much I appreciate that you don’t sexualise this?”  
“I haven’t thought about it... Really?” 
“Well imagine that any time you went to, say, take a bite of a turkey leg, there was someone staring, groping themselves and wagging their tongue at you. When you’re just trying to perform basic functions to stay alive.” 
“Sweetheart, that’s an average evening at the pub for me, when I perform. With or without me biting on anything. ...But I see what you mean”. You contemplated what he just said in a brief silence. “I can't believe you just compared me to a turkey leg.” 
“You’re more of a ripe, juicy peach” he said. You found yourself oddly pleased to be compared to fruit rather than poultry. 
You glanced at the large mirror standing on the floor of the tent.  
“You own an awful lot of mirrors for a vampire. Why do you even keep this here?” 
“That? Oh, it reflects light... makes the tent appear more spacious... prevents anyone from sneaking up on me. ...Unless they’re another vampire.” Astarion said contemplatively. “And I figured, I woke up once with a tadpole in my brain that let me walk in the sun again – who's to say I won’t catch another parasite tomorrow that might cure my vampirism entirely?” 
“Do you miss it? Seeing your own face?” 
“Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red. My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I’ve lost. I wouldn’t even recognise myself anymore. It’s been two hundred years.” 
“But...” you fumbled, trying to wrap your mind around that. “You could have found a street artist to sketch you since then.” 
“In the middle of the night?” 
“Or commissioned a portraitist, those artistic types would accommodate you any time of day or night” 
“Commissioned a - …I’m sorry, at what point did I give you the impression that Cazador paid us an allowance..?” Astarion was growing agitated. “And before you say I could have stolen – remember, everything I had, anything I acquired by any means, the clothes on my back, my body, my will – it all belonged to the master.” He paused, regaining control of his demeanour. “There was no point in having any possessions, it would all be the bastard’s in the end. I didn’t want to give him any more than I absolutely had to.” 
You kicked yourself in the ass mentally.  
“Well how’s this... We get to Baldur’s Gale. We exterminate Cazador and take over his palace. Then we rip out whatever he’s got as décor, commission all the best artists, and hang paintings of you on every wall. There will be nothing but portraits of Astarion everywhere.” Astarion’s eyes softened as he watched you gesticulating and getting carried away by your own imagination. “Astarion in shining armour. Astarion on a horse. Astarion on silk bedsheets, half-covered in rose petals. Pirate Astarion. Astarion stroking a cat. Historic events, but every single person depicted is Astarion. Oh! And in the main banquet hall, there will be an enormous mural of you, fully naked, lounging on a divan and being fed grapes by a cadre of nymphs.” 
“With a fig leaf covering my unmentionables?” 
“A comically large fig leaf. Or better yet, no fig leaf, just your full unmentionable glory looming over the dining table” You paused, as if sobering up after being lost in your grand vision, and added in a more serious tone: “We can commission busts and statues, too. Get a mold of your face for a hyper-realistic one.” 
“We” he whispered, as if to himself, with a scornful chuckle.  
“Oh? Do you have someone else in Baldur’s Gate you’d rather spend time with?” You realised how callous that might have come across as soon as the words were out, and cringed inwardly. 
“...No, I don’t” he said absently. 
“Elves live long lives... Do you still have real family there? Friends from... before? ...A spouse? Children?” You'd wondered about this before, and figured you may as well lie in the hole you’d dug for yourself.  
“Gods, no!” Astarion blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t even considered a full adult by elven society then. No, mercifully I didn’t leave any little Astarions behind. All my friends from my youth are either dead or have blissfully forgotten me. And I don’t even know where my family is.” 
You gave him a sympathetic and questioning look, waiting for him to go on. He sighed and continued. 
“As you might expect, Cazador placed a restriction on me, preventing me from telling anyone about my affliction. I couldn’t approach my old acquaintances and go ‘Surprise! I’m actually alive! ...Sort of. I’m just someone’s vampire spawn slave now!’. No. I was to turn around and walk the other way if I ever came upon anyone who might recognise me. I was supposed to be devoted only to my new ‘family’.” he scowled. “I feared that Cazador would use anyone he thought might be important to me against me - for fun, or to teach me a ‘lesson’. And he would have, too: the mental torture he unleashed on his spawn was far worse than physical.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t go and see my family, but as soon as I had my wits about me, I managed to arrange for one of the mercenary guilds to quickly escort my relatives out of the city. They were to be told that I made some powerful enemies who had me murdered, and that these enemies would come for them next. That they had to leave, change their names, and never return. I don’t know where they went. I can’t know, if I want them to be safe.” He looked away. “I can’t imagine how much they hated and cursed me. I ruined their lives.” he whispered. 
“You saved them!” you objected, taking his hand. He shrugged but squeezed your hand back. 
“I suppose I might have. Cazador would’ve left their heads on spikes in my crypt by now, otherwise.” He met your eyes again. “So yes, if anyone is going to be helping me decorate a palace, it’s you.” he added with a false cheer, clearly finished with the topic of Cazador.  
You thought he might want to be alone then and were about to leave, but he gently pulled you towards himself. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a trunk. You settled between his legs, your back against his chest, his lips right at your ear, one arm across your shoulders and chest, the other playing with your hair. The large mirror was on the ground right in front of you. He studied your reflection over your shoulder. You appeared to be lounging suspended at an odd angle.  
“How does it even work, anyway... It’s not just your body that disappears, it’s your clothing, too”. You grabbed a hat from the top of the trunk, holding it by its crown, and held it over Astarion’s head, moving it in circles against his hair. “Now you see it...” You let go and watched it disappear in the reflection. “Now you don’t.” 
“I’m actually not sure, darling. Maybe it needs to be supported solely by me. Or it’s got to do with movement” He threw the hat back onto the trunk, where it reappeared in the reflection. 
“Say...” threw your head back to look up into his eyes “Do you think my reflection would disappear... if a part of you was inside?” you bit your lip and grinned mischievously.  
“I don’t think so, but I love how that dirty mind of yours works” he purred in your ear. “Let’s check and find out” His hand slid towards the clasp of your pants, but you swatted it away. 
“Later.” Suddenly you were on a mission. “I have an idea.” 
The rest of your group were gathered around the fire as you made a dash for your tent and grabbed your kit of stage paints and powders.
“Chk, are you doing each other’s makeup in there?” came a scoff from Lae’zel, as you rushed past. 
“Don’t be jealous, Lae. We’ll have a girls night and braid each other’s hair tomorrow” you retorted, making Shadowheart choke on her drink.  
Back in Astarion’s tent, you reached for one of your loose facial powders. 
“You really don’t need to do anything, I’m used to it and nothing will work anyway” protested a confused and weary Astarion. 
“Astarion!” you said gravely, “This isn’t for you. This is for science”, and you blew the powder hard into his face. Sure enough, an outline of his features appeared briefly in the mirror, as the powder flew all around him. “It worked!” 
“Fan-tastic! Too bad you had to blind me to achieve that split second of a silhouette!” he coughed and rubbed at his eyes. 
“It should work with water, too, if you want me to pour some over your head. You need to wash all that powder off anyway, you look ridiculous.”  
He glared at you through the still flying powder particles and pointed a finger at your face.  
“No.” 
“Actually, hang on, I have a better idea.” You heard him groan into his hands behind you, as you ran back to your tent, to return with an amulet.  
“So, the good news is, I am really, really bad at this.” 
“If this involves setting me on fire again...” 
“That was an accident. Anyway... No, this lets me create a fog cloud. Or so it should. I can just barely manage some fog tendrils. Now if I just aim them at your face...” You concentrated on the spell. Whisps of fog appeared around Astarion. “Look...” As the fog tendrils twisted in the air, you could just make out a form that they floated around, in the reflection, one unmistakably of a face.  
“Well...” breathed Astarion, transfixed by the reflection, trying to make motions with his head to make the fog recoil. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve seen in centuries” 
“Come on” you grasped his hand. “Let’s go outside, it needs a different light and a slight breeze” 
Astarion snatched his handheld mirror and followed you. He was actually eager.  
Outside, Astarion spun in the whispy fog, gazing at the mirror in disbelief, as you continued to concentrate on the spell. It was actually working. Your conjuration magic was just bad enough to make the thinnest layer of fog, framing his face like a delicate mask and reflecting in the mirror. What would have been considered incredibly precise work by a wizard, was made possible entirely thanks to you borderline failing.  
“That’s better... I’ll channel the fog right, you turn left against it. No, your other left! No, don’t go into the fire, you idiot, it won’t be my fault this time” 
You grabbed Astarion by the hand and tried to guide him away from fire and anything he could trip over – he was paying exactly zero mind to anything around him, as he semi-stumbled in circles, looking in the mirror. Scratch ran around you, barking, excited for a new game, and eventually tripped you both. 
“Another gift...” Astarion smiled at you, as Scratch did his utmost to lick his face.  
Meanwhile, the group watched the two of you from a distance, dumbfounded. Lae'zel broke the silence: 
“Your people have the strangest mating rituals.”  
“Should I... should I tell them I can probably just cast mirror image on him? I’ve only done it on myself, but it should follow the same principle” added Gale. 
“Maybe tomorrow” said Shadowheart. “Just let them enjoy this tonight.” 
~~~~~
Next in series
AO3
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sleepyangelkami · 10 days
Text
WICKED (d.d)
a/n: note to self, stop taking tumblr breaks!!!
pairing: daryl dixon x fem!reader
summary: you were sensitive, daryl was hot headed. daryl often carried anger in his voice to protect you, never did you think he'd use it against you.
warnings: yelling, argument, sensitive!reader, blood, gore, fighting walkers, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 💚
words: 2,136
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the prison had fallen, tensions were rising. it was just you and daryl on the roads now, attempting to find your group again. you should have noticed the way he shook his head earlier or the way he sighed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut.
you cursed yourself for not knowing sooner.
daryl dixon was never a man that anyone could say was overly patient. but when it came to you, he’d wait years for you to utter a mere sentence. he was suddenly as patient as they come. but that didn’t change his true nature.
you’d been separated from the group for quite a while now. it was just the two of you on the roads.
at first, you’d been silent as a mouse, wondering if everyone was okay.
soon after, you realised that it was daryl who was also just as silent. you began speaking, in hopes of raising his mood. you assured him, the group had found their way back to them hundreds of times before, this would undoubtedly be no different.
but daryl didn’t so much as glance at you, barely letting out a grunt before turning his head. obviously, your plan in trying to lift his mood only dampened it.
however, you didn’t stop there.
and you should have, you really should have.
perhaps if you’d spent less time talking and waffling on, he wouldn’t be as angry as he was. perhaps if you’d just listened to him and nodded with your head bent, he wouldn’t have snapped.
albeit everything was happening so quickly.
you hadn’t even registered the infected make their way out. it took only moments before your life practically flashed before your eyes.
daryl’s back was against yours, his own knife out as he plunged it into walkers heads. in return, you attempted to do the same, holding the knife at it’s base with shaky hands. but you weren’t strong nor brave like daryl was. when fighting, it was obvious just how different the two of you were, how different you’ve always been. and you couldn’t lie as to say it wasn’t throwing you off your game.
not that you ever really had game.
a walker grabbed at your shoulders causing you to let out a fearful whimper. you used the time you had to plunge the knife into it’s head. your eyes widened as you missed the brain, blood spurted out into your face and onto your clothes. you took the knife out and tried again, this time the walker fell limp at your feet. 
before you could so much as try and attempt to take out another walker, one practically lurched onto you from the side.
daryl felt you hit against his back and cursed you. you were so damn clumsy and usually, he was okay with it. more often than not he’d smile at you, kiss your hurt forehead and tell you that you must begin looking where you’re going but now, he was anything but comforting. if anything, it took everything in him not to spin around and yell at you then and there.
but he didn’t, merely because he was too preoccupied with killing the walker in his hands. he plunged the knife forward, hitting two walkers and piercing straight through their heads. with a separate hand, he shoved the knife into another.
he couldn’t deny the relief that flooded his veins as he took out every last walker on his side.
he rolled his eyes before readying his arms, beginning to spin around and just knowing you’d need help. 
his eyes widened at the sight of you on the ground.
foot pushing up against a walker, you attempted to get it away. while another was crawling on you, you could have let out a whimper, knowing your knife had been tossed away from you.
there were too many.
as if the ‘big man in the sky’ had answered your prayers, you closed your eyes shut at the feeling of blood spurting out onto your face. finally, you peeled them open upon the sound of groaning and gargling coming to a stop. the sight of daryl dixon came into view, he’d taken out every last walker.
and he did not look pleased.
“daryl―” you couldn’t so much as get a word out. before you could even try to defend your cause, he was speaking. 
“are you fuckin’ stupid?!” daryl was an angry man, through and through. he channelled that anger, using it for things like this, taking out walkers or any other said enemy. never, had you been on the receiving end of his bellowing voice. “you ain’ gonna fucking make it out here if you need me watching your back every other second!” 
you could feel your eyes sting, pathetically.
you didn’t want to cry nor did you want to let daryl see you cry, not like this. he’d wiped your tears a thousand times over, even if it was because someone was yelling at you. you’d claim that it’s no big deal, that you were being dramatic and he’d always swoop in, telling you that it’s not dramatic and nobody should yell at a ‘flower like you’. you wondered what changed. “i was trying.” you uttered out pathetically once more, voice all broken.
“wasn’t tryin’ enough!” his hand roughly grabbed yours, practically hoisting you up from the ground. you let out the smallest of whimpers. not because it hurt but because you’d never seen him this angry at you. “are you hurt?” but his voice was anything but caring. it seemed as though you were just another burden to him.
instead of replying, you merely shook your head, it was bent down so he couldn’t see your watery eyes.
but he took it as a well enough response, because he cleared his throat, pocketing his knife. “we have to keep moving.” you wondered if he’d fallen guilty after his words spat you in the face, you guessed he did because for the duration of the walk, he kept glancing back at you, as if to see if you were still so upset.
and you were.
perhaps it really was a silly thing to be upset about. but daryl knew how much you hated yelling. he was well aware of all the baggage it came from, the flashbacks it may have caused. he knew you better than anyone, he’d been the one to wipe your tears from the same thing many times ago. 
deep down you knew he was only yelling because the emotions were high. he was worried about the kids of the prison, everyone else. he was worried about rick and carl, carol and judith, everyone there was to worry about, he was doing the worrying. he got in his head like that a lot.
but that didn’t change the fact that he’d yelled at you so easily, as if he’d been dying to all day. 
and could you so much as blame him anymore? you had been talking his ear off. no doubt, because you thought you were doing the right thing but you tried to put yourself in his shoes. you’d get annoyed too, right? 
the difference between you both?
you never would have so much as dreamed about talking to him the way he spoke to you. 
“there’s a cabin around here, we’ll hole up for the night.” he received no response, so he turned his head. “y’ listening?” 
once again, you didn’t speak, merely nodding. he sighed before turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut. he didn’t apologise, stubborn to the end. he didn’t often apologise to you, probably because he never found himself in a position where he had to but you were the complete opposite, always apologising profoundly for everything you did, even if it hadn’t been your fault.
you wondered if he wasn’t apologising because he wasn’t actually sorry.
he used his hand to beat down on the door, waiting to hear groans and gurgles. when he didn’t, he opened the door, peering inside. it was safe.
he let you go, watching as you practically scurried inside, ready to get away from the horrid outside world. maybe you were ready to get away from him. he found guilt eating at his insides, like a walker biting into flesh. the thought of you being angry with him was worse than the thought of getting bit right about now.
but he knew you, knew you more than anyone. and he knew you weren’t angry with him, you were merely upset.
stubborn as he was, he needed to make it better for he shouldn’t have yelled at you, as annoyed as he was.
after lighting a fire, he made his way towards the kitchen, where he somehow knew you’d be. as if he could sense your presence and everywhere it loomed. he could have spotted the back of your head from a mile away. there you were, stood in the kitchen in front of the sink, you must have been checking if they had running water. surprise, surprise, they didn’t. 
he leaned his body against the door frame, head gently landing on it as he watched you. you were yet to notice his presence, your hands scrubbing dryly at the other. there was blood coating all over your hands, not your own, walker blood. you needed it off and you needed it off now.
daryl knew how you got, always fussing over getting dirty as it was but when it came to walkers, you didn’t want any of it on you. it was always a challenge when the group was willingly putting walker guts all over their coats to disguise themselves.
he’d had enough of watching you, opting to walk inside the room. “c’mere, angel.” you heard his words, freezing up and he could only feel guilt eat at his bones. he carried a cloth, slightly damp. you allowed him to take your hands in his own, cloth gently working against the dirtied skin. “y’alright?” you didn’t respond, nodding.
you hadn’t so much as opened his mouth since he’d yelled at you. 
“baby…” and then he heard it, the mere sniffle that had you turning your head. 
“‘m okay.” voice cracking showing that you were not, in fact, okay. 
he could only frown at you. he felt you try to move away but his hands kept you still, grasping your own and keeping you in place. he waited in silence until you were ready to look up at him. when you did, he almost wished you’d hadn’t. your eyes were red rimmed and watery. you’d been crying. no longer was there that judgemental piece in his eyes. instead, you could only catch the guilt swarming in them.
“‘m sorry.” was the words that you practically clung to, that left his mouth. “‘m so sorry, baby, c’mere.” you felt his arms wrap you up.
you were too upset to argue.
so instead, you allowed him to take you into an embrace, hell you threw your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly closer. there was that gentle feeling again, the one you’d longed for so much. but you couldn’t have asked, no. how could you ask for comfort from the same person that’d hurt you in the first place?
thankfully, daryl made most of your decisions for you.
“‘m sorry.” you croaked out. “i wasn’t looking and then the walker just came out of nowhere and i swear i tried―”
daryl was quick to cut you off.
your head was held in his own dirty hands. though you hated the dirt on yourself, there was almost a comforting feeling to the dirt on him. perhaps it was the familiarity. “you ain’ got nothin’ to be sorry for, alright? nobody should yell at you, ‘specially not me.” 
you didn’t know whether to agree or not.
“you did what you could ‘n i’m proud of you, y’know that?” you felt your eyes begin to get watery again, god you wished you could stop crying. as if he could read your mind, he spoke, “‘n it’s okay to cry, i was bein’ an asshole.” 
you sniffled before giggling slightly. “you were.” 
he couldn’t help the way his lips turned up at the sound he’d missed so dearly. “yeah, i was, wasn’t i? ‘m just… worried, y’know? for everyone. not everyone has a flower like you in their group.” 
you shook your head with a sniffle, ignoring his words directed to you. “they’re gonna be fine, we’ll find ‘em.”
“yeah, we will.” he nodded, as if whatever came from your mouth, he could suddenly believe. you had that effect on him that he’d never tell. “but right now, i jus’ care about you, alright? c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”
and how could you deny hands once so angry, now so gentle?
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main masterlist/daryl's masterlist
a/n: rahhhh (this was horrible.)
370 notes · View notes
134340am · 2 years
Text
22. smiling in-between kisses
suna rintarou x gn!reader, 0.4k words, sfw + cw food
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“what should we do after this?” suna asks, words interspersed with the soft smacks of his lips against his melting chuupet. the strawberry flavouring had stained his lips and tongue a saturated blush-pink, making him look more kissable than ever.
you suck on your own citrus chuupet, wincing at the ice-cold tanginess that slithers down your throat quicker than you expected. “i’unno. it’s too damn hot to do anything.” you shrug.
“we can watch a movie?” suna quips, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
“it’s too hot to sit on the couch.” you pointed out, lethargically gesturing at where you and suna were huddled together on the floor in front of a fan.
“what if we sit outside?”
“i’m pretty sure it’s hotter. there’s barely any breeze.”
“...we can make out?”
“nah, still too hot for that.”
you lick at a trail of yellow-orange that’s dripped down the side of your chuupet’s plastic tube, relishing in the refreshing, sweet flavour on your tongue. you were just about to go in for another slurp of your sweet treat when it was abruptly tugged out from your hand—by a smug suna with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“wha—?!” 
before you could react—cuss him out, express your disapproval, whine and cry in the way you knew would get on his nerves, suna’s pressing his cold lips to yours. the kiss quite literally sent you into a state of brain freeze, and it took a moment for you to reciprocate, one hand sliding into suna’s hair and the other curling around the back of his neck.
you sigh into the kiss, enjoying the cool, smooth glide of his lips against yours. you let yourself lick his bottom lip timidly, then summon up the courage to capture his bottom lip between your teeth, which you pulled at teasingly. suna laughs at your attempt, a faint rush of air that tickles your lips, and he rewards you with a series of affectionate, warm pecks that had you smiling into the kiss.  
you feel his mouth curve up against yours, mirroring your smile, and faintly register one of his hands running up your thigh. the pair of you kissed until your lips were no longer cold and you couldn’t tell the difference between the taste of strawberry and citrus and his lips.
when you pulled apart, lips shiny with spit and breaths laboured and heavy, suna’s gaze was swirling with equal parts affection and desire.
“it’s summertime, babe.” he flashes you a quick, lazy grin—one that revealed a faint dimple on his left cheek. “why let the heat stop you?”
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a/n: this is an edited repost sooo sorry if you’ve seen this before :*) and yes i m once again pushing the all-my-faves-have-dimples agenda
(series masterlist) (masterlist)
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formulapai · 3 months
Note
Hi I was wondering if I could request something?
The reader is a F1 driver and for media all the drivers have to answer questions about preferences of who they'd like to take on this or that activity and such and one question is who would you kiss, marry, kill?
If no that's perfectly fine thank you for all the writing you do!!
Hi dear, thanks for the request 🫶
Picked my two fav French content creators (even if they are on twitch and not YouTube, pretend for one fic please), if you don’t know them and speak or at least understand french, you totally need to watch their streams !! Also, they did not make videos about motorsport but they did participate to the GP explorer. They have a shared YouTube channel in this fic !
(des gigas barres si des fr tombent dessus, dsl rayou je te fais passer de streameur pacman à youtubeur f1, pitié m’en veux pas c pour le fun) (je vais mourir de rire qui m’envoie écrire des trucs cringe comme ça là) (longue vie les fanfics) (pourquoi écrire une thèse quand je peux écrire ça?)
A few hours ago, you were told that a famous YouTube channel would interview all of the drivers individually for a video, a fun game you were excited to take part in as your manager explained the concept in details. You’re not quite sure when or where will the two persons interview you, not even aware if they already interviewed your colleagues as you’re too busy partaking in other interviews, pretty much repeating the same things over and over again, a redundant routine you’re obligated to do. A few meters from you, you spot Logan doubled over in laughter in front of cameras, a pretty rare sight considering the questions asked on media day which have you wondering if your friend has lost his mind until you see the two content creators you’ve been dying to meet talk with him, sending him in another fit of laughter. Well, at least your manager was right, it seems fun.
Once you’re done with your interview and ready to take another one, your PR manager and media team lead you towards a quieter spot, telling you to wait here until the two YouTubers are done with Fernando and ready for you, leaving you giddy and shaking with excitement. You absolutely love talking about your job, but saying the same boring things to hundreds of different medias gets tiring, so you’re forever grateful that concepts like these exist and are more and more popular, giving your colleagues and you the opportunity to share your passion and have fun with it. In the back of your mind you wonder about your mates’ answers and if you’ve been picked, you don’t know the questions for sure but you’re aware of the fact that you’re going to have to pick drivers for random things, knowing well that you’ll be watching the video once it’s out and complaining about your colleagues’ choices, making them laugh in the process.
It’s a few more minutes until you see cameras coming your way and hear cheerful greetings being sent towards you, you matching the energy in no time as a bright smile appears on your lips, introducing yourself as if they didn’t already know you. You learn that they are called Maghla and Etoiles and are both french content creators having multiple projects based on making their communities discover new things in a fun way, Etoiles mostly talking about culture and art and Maghla about pop culture, trends and sport. The two of them came together to create content about motorsports after their colleague big success with the two editions of the GP explorer, the two of them having participated in both, whether in driving or interviewing. The three of you continue your discussion before the cameras crew announces that everything is set up and that the game can now begin, learning at the same time that you’re the last one to participate in it.
“- Last but not least, we are here with Y/N Y/L/N, the second Audi driver in the 2026 grid ! Y/N, welcome to the channel and thank you for accepting to do this video with us, it’s an absolute honor to meet you !
- Well, huge thanks to you, I’m really excited to play with the two of you, my manager has been hearing all about it ever since this morning.”
The three of you laugh at that, chatting and exchanging jokes so naturally that you’re almost forgetting the cameras pointing at you and the real purpose of the conversation.
“- So, like we told your colleagues, we want to make F1 accessible to more people and show them the fun side outside of races and media stuffs because it can be quite intimidating to get into the sport at first. Our main goal is to shine a simpler light onto all of you and prove everyone that motorsports are not as “inaccessible” as it’s known for.
- It’s absolutely what we need ! With social medias, Netflix and such, a lot of new fans are coming to our world and it’s a real breath of fresh air. But as you just said, I see a lot of persons being kind of intimated still, and that’s what we’re trying to “break”, if you can say that. It’s such a fun world and it’s a shame that there are still lots of connotations about it. It has changed a lot over the years, positively, and it’s important for all of us to continue in this direction.
- Exactly ! I knew about F1 ever since a young age, like a lot of people I think, but never quite got into it because it seemed so.. elitist in a way ? Especially as a woman you know. Then I fell upon some videos on YouTube from the F1 channel, Secret Santa I think, and thought “hey, they look fun, this looks fun. I kinda want to get to know it better.”, and well, here I am !”
The conversation slowly turns towards the little game and you brave yourself for the questions, watching the playful grins grow on their face.
“- First question, a basic one: if you were stuck on a deserted island, who would you pick and why ?
- Oh, well. I’d probably go with Daniel ? I don’t know, he seems like he’s know how to save us from there, it’s probably because he’s Australian. So, yeah, Daniel.
- Hey, you’re actually the fourth to pick him ! Not bad Daniel, not bad. Ok, second question: if they were strategists, who would you pick to be on your team ?
- Carlos, definitely. What he did with Lando in Singapore in 2023 was pure genius and I need him to do all of my strategies now.
- Was it the thing with the DRS ? That was really cool to watch, and the battle with the Mercedes cars too. Third question: who should you choose as a teammate ?
- Hm.. well, I mean, the teammate I have now, Mick, is really great. But if I HAD to change, Oscar ? Yeah, probably Oscar. I don’t really know why though.
- Fourth question: if you were to CREATE a team, who would you pick as the drivers and as team members ?
- Drivers, Alex and Pierre, definitely. I like their style of driving and they’d probably work well together. Team members, well Carlos as the strategist. Uh, Daniel as a team principal ? I think he’d be very supportive and positive with the drivers, that’s just his way of thinking.
- Wow, what a team ! Ok last question: who would you kill, who would you marry, who would you kiss ? They won’t take it personal, promise.”
Your eyes widen slightly at the question, pondering about your answer and mostly, pondering about how many of your colleagues chose to kill you. You’re definitely going to nag them about it.
“- That’s a tough question uh.. Hm, I’ll probably kill Max just because I want to win at least a race ? And.. I’ll marry Fernando because he’s old so I’ll have his inheritance fast, sorry grandpa.
- Oh wow, we’re definitely sending him this segment later on. And who would you kiss ?
- That’s the thing.. Not Alex because I absolutely love Lily, not George either. Actually, not any of them in a relationship because it’s weird, even if it’s purely fictional. So, I’m left with Lando, Lewis ? Is that it ? Logan too ?
- Don’t ask us, you’re the one who knows them personally. Let’s say between the three of them ?
- Right, well. I can’t kiss Lewis, he’s always been my idol and even now I still look up to him, I can’t imagine kissing him. So.. Lando?
- Is that your final choice ?
- Yes, I’m so sorry Logan, I’m sure plenty of persons would kiss you.”
And when, three weeks later, Logan refuses to share his slice of apple pie with you on a night out and tells you to find Lando, you’re left to sulk in the corner of the restaurant while he munches his dessert loudly.
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myangelhaven · 4 months
Text
This is my recommendations of BANGCHAN fics! It will be updated once in a while for new stories I have read. Hopefully the links work (lemme know if it doesnt)
Credits to the authors!! All informations written are taken from the authors' post and has not been modified. Reminder that some fics are NOT for minors, so please read the key and avoid 18+ contents.
HAPPY READING!!
KEY
[❀]: fluff [𖤓]: angst [☄]: sad [☾]:smut [⟡]:smau [✮]: my favs
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˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮----------BANGCHAN-----------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖
ONESHOTS II
[2:13am] by @thevampywolf [❀]
Restraining order by @hyungszn [❀][☾][establishedrelationship]
Stack by @seospicybin [❀][☾][establishedrelationship] NEW
All bets are off for a game night with Bangchan.
Help me by @bchan95 [❀]
Based on Chan's recent bubble messages.....
(him telling stay "forgot to take off my lenses hahaha, take em off for me hahaha")
Pillow by @bambikisss [❀][☾][f2l] NEW
You're a creature of habit: you did the same thing every night. However, it seems that Chris has different plans.
Always by @hee0soo [❀][idolau]
Request: Yes please, if you can maybe make a behind the scenes after bangchan got angry at the staff during a vlive , there is a video of it, I've been wondering what it would be like after the vlive and who would calm him down ? by @sclassstay
Confiscated by @kaciidubs [❀][sexual innuendos][establishedrelationship] 791 NEW
He was going a little too crazy on the new Fans app, and you would swiftly reign that energy back in.
Not your boyfriend! by @daaawnnn [❀] 928
after attending a christmas party hosted by jisung, you were waiting for your boyfriend to come pick you up. but what if you got approached by a stranger instead? or so you thought.
Always here by @sulfurcosmos [❀][𖤓][establishedrelationship][suggestive] 1.1k
Stuckinmybrain by @j-onedrabbles [❀][𖤓][☄][establishedrelationship][overthinking] 1.5k
listened to STUCKINMYBRAIN AGAIN by Chase Atlantic and decided i needed to write angst + anon requests: "Hi hi! Could I request a Channie comfort drabble/fic were the gf!reader starts to distance themselves from Channie because of a really believable dating rumor they found online involving him?"
Ours by @thevampywolf [❀][✮][sliceoflife] 1.6k NEW
Corruption by @jonespicy [❀][☾][bff2l][virgin] 2.2k NEW
Wish you would by @cb97percent [𖤓][☾][☄][✮✮][boyfriend's bff][hard yearning] 2.8k NEW
He shouldn't love you, but he doesn't know how to make it stop.
Into it by @lixiesfreckless [❀][𖤓][☾][✮][car/drunk sex][mutualpining][besties] 3k NEW
the california sunset looks pretty damn good when you're on the hood of Chan's car.
Junkie by @cb97percent [❀][𖤓][☾][rockstarau][heavy thirsting] 3.2k NEW
Of course he has hundreds of fans screaming his name — he's a rockstar. The problem is something happens to him every time he's performing, and you just can't stop staring.
Venus fly trap by @seo--changbin [❀][☾][establishedrelationship][cncroleplay] 3.9k NEW
The hello kitty fantasy by @hee-pster [❀][𖤓][☾][✮][e2l] 4k NEW
with a roommate like Chan, everything in life is a challenge — especially studying for your finals. he’s an annoyance, a cacophony, a statue of arrogance who likes to lounge at home, nonchalantly undressed — half dressed, in the best case scenario. but he’s not impossible to reconcile with — for this once, out of pity, he agrees to a truce with you, though he has but one wish in return: a kiss, on the lips.
Third wheel by @cb97percent [☾☾][3some] w/(fem)hyunjin 4.1k NEW
It would be wrong if you were attracted to one of your best friends since they are in a relationship, but you don't know what the protocol is when you have the hots for both of them.
Verbatim by @cb97percent [❀][☾][✮✮][fwb] 4.8k
You both have a libido control problem around each other as it is, but when you show up at the university building with glasses for the first time, Chris becomes the human embodiment of the word unhinged.
Southside Nocturne by @cb97percent [❀][☾][fwb] 6.3k
You and Chris have been friends with benefits for quite a while now, but it's irony galore when his most outrageous request to date makes you both realize you want something more. the kiss becomes rushed and messy the way two lovers dance carelessly under the rain, your arms wrapping around his neck and hands tugging on his hair.
Secret secret by @j-0ne25 [❀][𖤓][☾][✮][f2l][pining][rockstarchan] 9.3k
In order to get rid off the ridiculous crush you have on your best friend Chan, you decide to project all those feelings on an unreachable celebrity, rockstar CB97, instead to protect your stupid heart. But little do you know that these two guys might be closer than expected. When you get invited by 3RACHA’s company to edit their newest music video, suspicions finally pop up in your head.
stations and destinations by @sulfurcosmos [❀][𖤓][☄][✮][chf2l] 9.8k
when did love start feeling like a crime?
let me in your ocean, swim by @skzms [❀][𖤓][☾][coworker2l] 9.9k NEW
“Chan, you’re an idiot,” Changbin sighs and Chan whips around.
“What did I do now?!” he asks, trying to give his voice a joking edge but failing miserably.
“She’s so into you, and you don’t even see it,” Changbin states grandly, like it’s the most glaringly obvious thing in the world. Jisung huffs out a giggle next to him, but nods.
-> In which Chan is a little self-conscious and a lot clueless, Changbin is his therapist and his wingman, and you get really sick of waiting for Chan to get his shit together.
Kiwi by @j-0ne25 [❀][𖤓][☾][✮][mutual pining][childhood friends-enemies-lovers][travelau][onebedtrope] 12k NEW
After graduating from college, you decide to travel around New Zealand and celebrate your freedom. But when you buy a van for the journey, the salesman scams you, selling the exact same car to both you and another person who’s no other than your childhood best friend you haven’t seen in years—and still have a huge crush on…
⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄more to come!⠄・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄
☆--------Chan's masterlist || skz masterlist---------☆
104 notes · View notes
kooshours · 7 months
Text
knee pads - jeon jungkook x reader.
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summary: in which you couldn't resist your boyfriend's delicious thighs in those knee pads of his... and he realized just how much you loved them. college volleyball player!jungkook x reader.
warnings: mostly just smut, thigh riding, smug jungkook, use of praise. 1.9k words.
author's note: this is my first post so if there's any advice or critiques i'd love to hear it! while writing the post, i was imagining him in knee pads like these (like bokuto from haikyū). happy reading :)
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You absolutely loved your boyfriend. Having been with him for almost two years now, you knew everything about each other. At least that's what you thought. The two of you had met during your third year of high school when you had accidentally gotten hit in the head with one of his spikes. Painful, yes. But you would go through it hundreds more times if it meant being able to stay with Jungkook.
Although he was in college now, his burning desire to play volleyball had never died down. It was clearly visible by the way you were watching him play. You didn't get to watch him as much these days because his volleyball practices seemed to clash with your swim lessons. You both had gone to the same college, but having completely different sports were very time consuming for the both of you.
Although he had matured much from high school, he was still truly a goofball at heart. That's what you loved most about him. It's what made Jungkook himself. His thirst for victory, praise, improvement. Most of all, his competitiveness. He dripped with pride every time he would land a spike, which seemed to be every time the volleyball was tossed to him. Everyone on his team was amazing, but he was the only person you were focused on.
Your eyes trailed over every square inch of his body, but most importantly, those thighs. Though they were concealed by the kneepads he wore, watching eagerly for every tiny sliver of skin that would become exposed when he moved around was addicting. The kneepads, to you, were a huge bonus. It was something neither you or Jungkook had noticed before, but you really liked how they made his legs look.
By the time his game was over, your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your black pleated skirt. You stared as Jungkook's eyes searched for you in the crowd, and the way they lit up when they had finally landed on you. You both shared a smiling wave before he followed Taehyung into the locker room to grab his stuff. You stood up from your chair, grabbing his jacket and walking downstairs to meet him when he exited the men's locker room.
When you arrived at the front door, it wasn't long until you were pulled into a pair of strong arms. You giggled when your cheek came in contact with his chest, and stood on your tippy toes to give your boyfriend a kiss.
"So, how did I do?" He asked as the two of you started walking out to your car.
"You did perfect, as always, Koo." You grinned lazily. The volleyball player seemed to be oblivious to the grip you had on the hem of your skirt, or the slight blush on your cheeks as you devoured the very sight of him.
It was only when you were halfway home that he noticed. When a particular jolt of the car caused the slightest whimper to slip from your lips. He looked over then, seeing the small grimace on your face as you tugged on your clothing and tried to squirm in the seat, searching for one spot that didn't send sensations through your lower half.
"What's wrong, baby?" Jungkook asked. His tone mocked concern, but you could hear the condescending undertone, and you knew you were finally caught. You shook your head, almost too embarrassed to admit you had attracted a dark admiration to the pieces of volleyball gear he was still wearing.
You grabbed at the door handle when the car was suddenly stopped. You stared at your surroundings, wondering when the hell you two had ended up at an empty grocery store parking lot.
"I asked what was wrong." He repeated, glaring at his steering wheel with a small smirk.
"I-I can't, Koo..." You mumbled.
"Oh come on, tell me what's running through that pretty brain of yours." You flinched ever so slightly at the sudden touch on the side of your face. His fingertips traced lightly down your temple, jawline, and to your chin. His fingertips tightened there, forcing your head to turn to meet his eyes.
"I uh, couldn't stop watching you during the match.." Your eyes were focused on your seatbelt buckle beneath you, trying to look anywhere but Jungkook as you admitted the last part. "Your thighs."
"You were..." He trailed off, feeling his lips turn upwards in a cocky smile. Jungkook's hand appeared at the seatbelt buckle, undoing it. "Come here, pretty girl." He tapped on one of his thighs. Shamefully, you moved in the car until you were sat on one of his thighs, your hands grasping at his broad shoulders.
He stroked your face lovingly, but the look in his eyes was enough to make you shudder. He pulled your face in, going in for what looked like a kiss, but his lips narrowly missed yours. He kissed at the corner of your lips, and trailed to your jawline, which he knew contained the spot that made you weak at the knees.
"Tell me more." He muttered against your jawline.
"I... I- fuck, Koo." You squirmed against his thigh, but the sudden friction of his knee pads sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn't help the sound that escaped your mouth. At first, he had thought it was due to the kisses he was now trailing down your neck, but when he had shifted his leg to get a better grip on you, his lips froze against your collarbone.
His eyebrow cocked at the look on your face. "What's this?" Jungkook asked, eyes drinking up the expression on your face. Your bottom lip had rolled in between your teeth, and your eyes had been screwed shut. Your head was instinctively leaned into his left hand, feeling as if you couldn't sit up straight if he wasn't holding you.
"I fantasized about..." He had flexed his thigh when you didn't finish your sentence, and he knew for certain what you were thinking about when your hips reacted instinctively to the sudden movement. "God, Koo, I fantasized about riding your thigh!" You half shouted, shivering at the friction.
You couldn't stand the look he was giving you, so you grabbed his face and smashed your lips onto his in an attempt to get you to stop. One of his hands grabbed at your waist, lifting you up, while the other worked to slip his knee pad down off his thighs.
"With the knee pads on." You added, breaking away from the needy kiss with a gasp. His hands froze in their spot, and after a few beats of intense silence, he pulled the black material back up with a single tug. You both pulled each other back into the kiss seconds later.
A hot trail was left as his hands rested on your hips, kneading them. Your skin felt on fire, and every inch of skin he had touched had caused goosebumps to form. His hands maneuvered up your skirt, and your mouth opened with a moan as he guided your hips along his thigh. He took this chance to deepen the kiss, trying his hardest to keep his own sinful sounds at bay as he thought about the idea of you getting off with nothing but his thigh.
Of course he knew he had good thighs. Years of vigorous training had built tight muscles. He just didn't know you were that infatuated with them. He had never thought you would've loved to ride his thigh with his knee pads on. When the both of you broke the kiss to catch your breath, you buried your face into the crook of his neck.
"Look at the beautiful mess you're making on me." You hadn't realized your wetness had trailed down the rough fabric, you were only focusing on the growing burn in your lower abdomen. Your hips were now moving at their own steady pace, and you were trying your best to keep quiet.
His breath had migrated to your ear, where he softly bit on your earlobe. "So needy." He muttered, suddenly pushing your hips down with both of his hands. Any attempt to stay quiet flew out the window as you cried his name into his neck. One thing that swelled his pride more than anything else was hearing you cry out his first name in such a sinful manner. It sounded like a melody he always wanted to hear.
"You just love the thought of using my body to get off, don't you?" He asked, pushing your hips down once again. You swore you had seen a flash of white as the angle his thigh moved against your clit. You raised your hand to bite down on at an attempt to keep any dignity you had left, but you let out an audible whine as he forced your hips to stop moving.
"I want to see and hear you." Jungkook commanded. You shamefully pulled your head from his shoulder, making eye contact with him. He knew how embarrassed you got whenever he forced you to look at him, but that's what he loved about it. He loved how you grew so flustered.
You forced yourself to lock eyes with him as your hips rutted against his thigh, desperate to build up what he had just denied moments earlier. Once you had gotten too lost in the lust and heat of the moment, you had grown less and less ashamed.
"Koo, you make me feel so good..." You mewled.
"Yeah?" He asked, bouncing his leg ever so slightly.
"Yes, so, so, so good. I love you so much." He could already feel himself hardening painfully at the praise given as your orgasm was close to reaching its hilt.
"That's right, baby. You're doing so good. So beautiful." You had grown more desperate with his words, and your hips had started to lose the rhythm you had previously worked so long to maintain.
"I'm so close..." You trailed off.
"Come on, make a mess on my kneepads. I know you want to so bad, to show everyone who I belong to. You'd like the idea of that, hm? Everyone knowing that I am yours, and you're mine. All mine." Jungkook hissed.
"All yours!" You cried out.
"Cum for me, angel."
That was the final push that sent you over the edge into bliss. You had cried his name out in ecstasy, your upper body going limp in your boyfriend's arms, and your thighs spasming as you stained the black material even further.
"Don't go out on me now, not when I'm not nearly finished with you." His voice was distant, but there. There enough for you to know it was going to be a very long night for both of you.
~~~
"Jungkook, what's that stain there?" Taehyung asked, pointing to the stain that had appeared on Jungkook's kneepads magically. Jungkook feigned confusion, looking at them with mock shock.
"Don't know, it's probably food." The setter nodded at his explanation, not caring enough to push him anymore.
That game, he walked onto the court with the proudest smile on his face. You had choked on your water upon seeing the very visible stain on your boyfriend's volleyball gear. It had been about a week since those events, and he had been wearing his other pair of kneepads. Now that he was at an actual game, he decided to pull the soiled ones out and wear them.
Before the game started, his eyes met your widened ones in the crowd, and he sent a wink your way. That smug bastard.
226 notes · View notes
moanz111 · 9 months
Text
final round - choi san
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🥊 pairing: boxer/fighter!choi san x boxing coach!gn!reader
🥊 genre: angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, dystopian au
🥊 summary: surviving in a city of outlaws has never been easy, with your days filled with emptiness and fear, and your only comfort being the weekly boxing matches in an underground club. but when you accidentally meet san, promising you a new beginning, your whole world is about to turn upside down.
🥊 featuring: biker!hwa; biker!yeosang; boxing coach/manager!wooyoung; cowboy(????)!mingi; oc!jay
🥊 wc: 5.9 k
🥊 warnings/tags: english is not my native language so there can be mistakes; descriptions of fighting/injuries/bleeding; setting is inspired by ateez's lore and the outlaw album (it's not accurate, just took some details from it, terminology can be inaccurate); use of pet names (angel); reader has an older brother; jay (reader's friend) doesn't represent any real person; there can be inaccuracies about boxing (i tried my best); mentions of guns/shooting (no one is harmed!!); repressive government; mentions of loss of family members/friends; reader is a bartender too; descriptions of kissing; lmk if i've missed something
credits for all the used graphics belong to their rightful owners!
🥊 note: happy (late) birthday to one of my favourite artists and people, sannie!
after all, i decided to post this fic even though i'm on a break lmao i feel a little bit more comfortable with posting it now and am doing better! and also i just couldn't wait to share this with you so...
i had so much fun writing this and got so inspired by ateez's album that i just had to do something about it. i'm trying a different genre this time so i hope you enjoy reading it!!
also, i'm super awkward when writing kissing scenes, help.
any form of feedback is greatly appreciated so don't be shy to reblog with your thoughts, comment or send me an ask! it really means a lot to me and keeps me motivated!
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Sweat dripped down your forehead, tickling your chin and neck as you gripped tightly the ring ropes, lunging your body forward with excitement. Even though you’d never admit it out loud, the adrenaline running through your veins during the intense boxing matches you attended every weekend made you feel more alive than ever. The way the two boxers threw fierce punches at each other was not exactly abiding by the game’s rules but no one around you seemed to care or even notice. 
Living in a world where tomorrow might never come, these were the only moments you could be your most authentic self without the mask of acquiescence on. This world was sick, filled with horrors and demons, haunting you even in your dreams and watching your every step. However, this world was beautiful too, filled with secretly exchanged hopeful glances and little reasons to look up at the grey sky, praying better days would come. 
What you were doing right now - smiling, screaming, the sole act of feeling was illegal but the thrill that filled your body was something you were willing to risk your life for. You had made your decision a long time ago - the rules didn’t matter to you anymore. 
“A win for Black Serpent,” you heard the referee shout in an attempt to fight the hundreds of voices, drowning his own as the champion threw his red boxing gloves at the public. Blue and purple marks painted his features and his almost closed left eye was swollen but the triumphant grin plastered on his face told you, as usual, his injuries were not one of his problems. 
Such a show-off, you thought when your friend waved at you from the ring, flexing his biceps proudly. It wasn’t surprising to you that he won tonight’s match. During the few years you’d known Jay, you’d never seen him lose. Having been a professional competitor in the past, as he had told you when you first met, the underground club’s matches were his way to escape the harsh reality and remember the good old times. 
Plus, you’d seen the bags full of cash from bets after a successful night. After all, that was why you had become his “accomplice” or as he liked referring to you - his devil accountant. The job was simple enough and you didn’t mind the extra income - working as a bartender at the local bar came with its perks but with the money you made you could never possibly afford a place of your own, neither did it give you the comfort you could run away one day from this awful blackhole. So you gladly kept track of the bets for Jay’s matches and sometimes you even helped him train as you knew a thing or two about boxing yourself.
Tonight was no different. As you pushed your way through the crowd, collecting the bills, you saw a lot of familiar faces who greeted you warmly. At least some of them. Others - weren’t so friendly, swearing and even refusing to give you the money, overcome by anger after losing, but they knew better than to test you. No one wanted Jay’s wrath upon them. 
“I think you forgot about me, angel,” you heard a raspy voice behind you just as you were about to call it a day and go to the locker room where Jay was waiting for you. Turning around, you were, to say the least confused. The man before you wore a grey hoodie over his head, hiding his features, and matching sweatpants, looking nothing like the usual visitors of the fight club. He was tall but muscular - you could see it even though his baggy clothes left much to the imagination. His broad shoulders and confident stance told you he was much more than he led you to believe. Was he another competitor? 
Looking down at his stretched-out hand, you saw a few bills folded in his palm. A cat-like smirk formed on your lips. “Though night for you, huh?” “I don’t like voting in favour of my biggest competition,” the man laughed as you took the money, writing down the amount in your notebook. Jay was going to be pleased with tonight’s profit which meant another celebration for him and another babysitting gig for you. 
However, the stranger’s words made you wonder what exactly his intention was. If he was telling the truth, then why bother betting if Jay was his next match? With his face engulfed in shadows and mystery, his aura alone sent shivers down your spine, alarming you for danger. Taking a step away from the man, you folded your arms before your chest. “What is your deal?”
He tilted his head to one side, regarding you quietly like a predator about to chase his next prey. Closing the distance between you in a matter of seconds, he leaned down to your right ear, whispering softly, his breath hot against your neck, “You’ll find out soon, angel.”
Still in a daze after your encounter with the stranger, you watched him pull away from you, shooting you one last mischievous smirk before diving into the crowd. Shaking your head, you let out a deep sigh. 
Trouble always found its way to you.
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The deafening sound of the morning alarm, signaling it was time for everyone to go to work, rang in your ears as you walked to the bar where you worked during the day. The sun was still hiding under the horizon and the sky was painted in a mix of deep blue, purple, and orange. The streets were empty without a single soul in sight except you and the black stray cat that accompanied you every day on your way. It brought you a sense of comfort - to have a small friend by your side in these lonely times of the day. 
Forming genuine connections with other human beings was almost impossible. There were many stories about heartless betrayals, travelling from person to person in this city of outlaws. Today’s friend could easily turn into tomorrow's enemy. However, right now this place was your everything and all you could do is learn how to survive. You’d heard of other faraway cities where people had it way worse than you did and were much more repressed by the titanic power of the Guardians. Sometimes you were even grateful you were surrounded by outcasts and criminals rather than a white sea of masks, pointing guns at your face. 
Here, the inhabitants had found their ways of rebelling right under the government's nose without being noticed and the bar you were currently opening was one of their favourite places to do it. You'd witnessed hundreds of pieces of intel being exchanged for contraband and hundreds of unfulfilled plans for the future dying under the dim yellow lights. Still, no one gave up. That was the only rule everyone followed wholeheartedly - better surrender and lose your life than give up your dreams and hopes and become a dead man walking.
Pushing your thoughts away, you braced yourself for yet another day during which you had to take on the role of the oblivious bartender. Your job was to keep your mouth shut and eyes closed so when you saw one of your regulars enter the building, looking suspiciously around, you almost laughed.
“Good morning, Mingi,” you greeted him leaning on the broom you were swiping the floor with to take a proper look at him. His cowboy boots and hat, the usual, now shabby, long brown coat and the chains dangling at his neck as he walked slowly towards you gave away that he was meeting someone important today. The tall and lean man oozed confidence and threat just by standing and you were glad you were on his good side. 
You'd met Mingi on your very first day as a bartender and quickly developed a soft spot for him. You weren't aware of exactly what he was doing except sitting around with you and being a menace to your boss but there were dozens of wanted posters around the city, including on the wall behind the countertop you mixed beverages on. The portrait drawing sure did him justice and you'd always been perplexed as to how the Guardians hadn't caught him yet. 
In your eyes Mingi was good-natured and considerate, always asking about your day and throwing a joke or two to make you smile but you'd seen his nasty side too. That was why when he pulled out his pistol from his holster belt and placed it on top of the bar as he sat down on his usual spot, you felt shivers run down your spine. 
“Don't worry, Y/N,” said Mingi, turning to look at you with a reassuring smile. If you got paid every time you heard him say this before destroying everything and everyone on his way, you would've been a millionaire. Sighing heavily, you walked over to him to stand behind the bar and took his pistol in your hands. Earning a surprised squeal from the man, you shook your head.
“You're the reason I'm not getting paid, cowboy. The amount of repairs we’ve made in a month is insane.”
“I'm sorry,” Mingi answered with a pout. Your boss wasn't going to be happy he came here again. You could only imagine the old man's smile as he put up these wanted posters. Hell, if he could turn in Mingi himself, he would be on cloud nine. “But be careful and don't shoot anyone.”
“You worry about yourself,” you sighed and pointed behind him. A young man was entering the bar, humming an unknown-to-you melody and carrying a bag over his shoulder. Sunglasses hid his eyes and a grin showed off his dimples. 
“You didn't tell me your friend was such a beauty, Mingi,” the man whistled, eyeing you from head to toe after he removed his glasses, placing them on top of his head. You felt heat burn up your cheeks and you found it hard to hold his intense stare. Now being able to properly look at his face, some sort of recognition passed through your mind but you couldn't wrap your head around where you'd seen him before. 
As the newcomer sat down next to Mingi, you couldn't stifle your laugh this time. They reminded you of a comedic duo from the comic books you used to read as a child, now long gone and turned into ashes, with the newcomer dressed casually in a black and white shirt, the fabric flowing around his body and a few buttons undone, showing his collarbones, and Mingi in his “official” attire with a serious look on his face and furrowed brows. 
“Don't even think of laying a finger on Y/N, Wooyoung,” warned Mingi as your friend took out a white envelope from his coat’s pockets, handing it to the other man. A silent look, holding thousands of words, was exchanged by them before Wooyoung swiftly hid it under his shirt. “We can talk comfortably here. They won't say anything.”
“My lips are sealed,” you made a motion as if you locked them with a key and threw it in Wooyoung’s direction, earning a loud laugh from him.
“I like them. We should recruit them.”
“Absolutely no,” Mingi sternly refused, scolding both of you with a  glance. “Let's talk business now.”
Mindlessly washing the shot glasses and polishing them, you listened to the two men’s conversation, pretending none of what they said was surely granting them a death sentence. The images they described with pretty words and empty promises filled your heart with longing for a distant land where everything you'd ever dreamt of was real. 
Where there existed other sounds - other than your heartbeat and the screeching alarm.
Where you could look up at the sky and see the stars - not the brown clouds of dust and pain.
Where emotions like sorrow and fear were replaced by joy and comfort. 
So you listened and listened until you'd memorised every single sentence, hoping to dream of this new world tonight.
“The others will call for us soon. We just need to wait for a sign,” said Wooyoung, getting up from his seat and stretching his limbs. “San has a match tomorrow so if- no…when he wins, we'll have enough money for the next mission.” 
A match?
A lightbulb lit up at the back of your mind as your memories took you to last night’s events. The stranger's words made much more sense than before and you were pretty sure you'd seen Wooyoung, lurking in the shadows and grinning after Jay’s final victorious blow. Keeping this information to yourself, you remained silent even when Wooyoung gave you a knowing look. 
“His opponent is pretty tough and so is his coach…,” he trailed off, playing with his silver earrings, shimmering under the first morning rays. 
“Good luck then. I'll see you in a week,” Mingi answered, shaking his accomplice’s hand as he too got up to leave. Glancing at you, he placed a few bills on the counter, way too many than needed. “For the special service today.”
“You don't have to-”
“And a bet for Black Serpent.”
“Jerk,” whined Wooyoung, rolling his eyes and earning another warning look from Mingi to whom you returned the pistol you took earlier. “I look forward to our little dance tomorrow, Y/N.”
Giving you a playful wink, Wooyoung took his bag and trailed after Mingi who was already striding to the exit, talking about manners and social norms which you found amusing.
At least, he didn't vandalise property today.
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“The underdog vs. the big champion, huh,” Jay hummed as he traced his finger over his opponent's name on the list, placed at the fight club’s entrance. The match was only a few hours away and unable to sleep from excitement, you'd dragged your friend to the ring to practice some extra time. You didn't know what kind of fighter San was but better be prepared than sorry later. The rumors about him going around in the underground club didn’t give you much information either - some said he was ruthless and vicious, others - just a showoff. One thing was sure though - he had an incredible win rate with his name at the top of the rank list at least once a month. 
“Isn't it a bit cocky to call yourself the big champion,” you teased Jay as you pushed him inside the locker room so he could change into his practice clothes. You noticed one other locker was closed and were curious who else would've come here at that time of the day. Only champions and their coaches were allowed in when there wasn't a match. 
“I know my worth, Y/N,” Jay sighed while rolling bandages over his wounded knuckles. The bruises from his last match were still visible on his body and you wondered if they ever healed. You also mentally noted he had cut his hair down to a buzzcut again. He was serious about tonight then. Not that you expected anything different. San was the only person who could challenge him for his title. “I'm not a loser.” 
“Sure, now get up. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Jay, cover-up,” you shouted while monitoring your friend’s warm-up match, feeling your nerves slowly getting to you. You weren't exactly surprised when you found out the other fighter in the club and Jay’s opponent was the stranger you’d met the other night and of course, Wooyoung was his cornerman and manager. 
San’s presence turned coaching Jay into a challenge, unlike any other time. His movements were practiced and calculated, his punches swift and precise. The white tank top he was wearing revealed his toned body and well-defined muscles and made you stare more than to your liking. His sharp features and handsome face mixed with his professionalism were a weapon San used well on the ring since you could see Jay was intimidated probably for the first time. Wooyoung’s annoyingly proud smile didn't help either.
Blood was dripping down San’s chin from a cut, gifted to him by Jay after one of his blows, and sweat formed on his forehead as he counterattacked, delivering a strong punch on your friend's face. Their match resembled a passionate and intimate dance that you weren't supposed to witness. Their pride and skills were on the line. 
“Parry, Jay,” you once again yelled and seconds later the final bell rang, putting an end to their spar before your friend could react, taking a painful hook from San. Getting up from your chair, you went up to the ring and handed Jay a water bottle which he splashed on his face with a groan. You praised yourself for taking your first aid kit before leaving your apartment. If he was so beaten up right now, you didn't want to imagine what both of them were going to look like by the end of the night.
“You sure know a lot about boxing, Y/N,” San said, breathing heavily as he took his gloves off, throwing them at Wooyoung. It was the first time he addressed you directly today and you were taken by surprise when he jumped off the ring, coming closer to you. His face was glistening and his brown eyes were burning with passion you'd never seen before. Sure, Jay enjoyed fighting but you knew it wasn't the same as it used to be for him. San, however, had the eagerness to learn and win as a newbie even though his skills made you believe he was as good as a coach. Maybe even better than most. “Where did you learn?”
“Let's say I'm very observant,” you answered quietly, trying to avert his attention away from you and the topic. Still, the sting in your heart, forming as memories flooded your mind reminded you of the past you were so willing to escape from. You could still smell the distinctive scent of your brother’s gloves. The thrill that came with each victory. The pain that filled your being after leaving your past life behind without looking back. What had even happened with your family and friends? Were they alive? Were they safe?
“I'd call this more than just “being observant”,” Wooyoung joined the conversation, pulling you out of your thoughts. He put his arm around your shoulders, squeezing them tightly and you whined. “We hit the jackpot, San.”
“What do you mean?” 
“We have an offer for you, Y/N.”
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The next few months after the official match between San and Jay passed in a daze for you. Someone had to pinch you. Hard.
Wooyoung, you’d realised, was a gambling addict. There wasn't any other logical explanation behind his behaviour. Whatever you did or said, he turned into a bet out of which only one of you could emerge as a winner.
So just like that, after that practice match, he and San had made a proposal that was too difficult to decline and simple enough to follow. If San won, you'd coach him for his next matches and join their small group of outlaws. As they told you - they needed someone competent on their side. If Jay won, you'd go on your way and forget about it. Not that this was possible. 
You would've lied if you’d said you had been surprised when San delivered the final victorious blow that night. Secretly, you had hoped for this turn of events not much to your friend’s liking. While you were patching up his wounded and bleeding face, whispering comforting words, your betraying heart was accelerating with your mind plagued by thoughts of San. 
Today was no different. As you watched San practice his kicks on a punching bag in the fight club, you caught yourself blushing at one of his particularly precise deliveries. Boxing is my thing, I guess, you thought when he halted his movements to drink some water and pulled his tank top over his head, showing off his toned body.
Moments like this were routine for you at this point - just both of you sitting in silence, only his heavy breathing audible - him practicing and you observing. San’s progress was outstanding and this left you jobless - he didn’t need your directions anymore that much. You didn't feel the need to fill the space with small talk or pointless conversations when you were with him and thought of him as someone who had always been part of your life.
Intimidating at first glance, San was, in reality, the kindest person you had ever met. He cared deeply about the people he loved, always making sure to put them first above everything else. He was also thoughtful and considerate - attentive to everyone’s needs and was always there when you needed him the most. San brought you comfort unlike anyone else and you told him things you hadn't even dared before. Your relationship was progressing fast - with a lot of skipped steps, blurring the line between friends and lovers but you didn't mind. Labels weren't needed for you to feel what you did towards him. Not when you had so few opportunities to be together.
You two often daydreamed about this new world he and his friends liked talking about. He wanted to stop fighting - hurting people was what he hated doing the most but their group needed the money desperately. There was no other choice for him but to sacrifice himself every day. San, instead, wanted to build a home for his loved ones and create a safe space for them where they could be together and where he could protect them.
“You can't protect everyone, San”, you had told him the day he shared his plans with you while both of you were sitting on the cold floor of the locker room, shoulder to shoulder. His proximity had your head spinning and you found it hard to focus on his words. San held your hands, tracing circles mindlessly on them, before bringing them to his lips.
“I have to do what I can, though. I can't just give up on any of you,” he had answered, whispering into your skin, goosebumps forming all over your body. Before that, you hadn't considered yourself that important to him and his words made your heart skip a few beats. 
“I know what it feels like…,” The lump in your throat and the painful memories of your family had tears forming in your eyes that you tried blinking away. No point in crying when you didn't have the power to change the past. San brought his big hands to your face, cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, and you tried pulling away. The pity and guilt in his eyes were something you wanted to erase forever. 
“You can't just run away from your demons, Y/N. Sometimes you have to face them.”
So you had wept in his arms, telling him your life's story for the first time and he had brushed every fear, doubt, and pain away with his soft touches and gentle gaze. 
You had grown up in the Outlaw City’s outskirts, in a restricted area where the Guardians’ influence and presence weren't as noticeable. The people were happy - you remembered seeing children playing freely, people reading and drawing and creating with all their might without being disturbed. 
Your parents were ordinary people, working ordinary jobs and living an ordinary life. You and your older brother, however, were nothing like them. The fighting rebellious spirit was something you had no idea who passed down to both of you but you were grateful to whoever ancestor was responsible for it. 
You two always found ways to get into trouble - from stealing a guitar from one of the contraband gangs in the city to compose silly songs to your brother learning how to box only to enter underground tournaments to earn some extra income for your family. He had learned from the older kids a trick or two and you had made it your life's purpose to follow him around until he taught you too. 
You missed those days dearly. The mornings when you would spar together under the blazing sun for hours. The nights when you would go to the restricted area of the city to fight and then run back home with the money you'd made before someone else took it from you. Every day was a game of survival, but you were happy. You had your brother - your only pillar in this dark world.
Until one day everything changed. 
That day, the Guardians had come in groups to your city, taking every child or adult in their way, destroying every last piece of safety. You remembered your last moments with your family before they took them away. Your brother screaming at you to run, your father fighting the white-dressed Guardian, and your mother crying in fear. You had tried saving them but to no avail. At least, you didn't know if they had survived and there was no one you could ask. Five years had passed since. 
You found your new home in Outlaw City where everyone was a runaway like you and where no one would ask where you'd come from. Your only resolve was to pray that your family was safe and sound and that one day you would find them. This time you were more prepared than ever, you were ready to protect them at the price of anything. So as San wiped away your tears with his thumbs, you felt the heavy burden of your past lift itself from your shoulders. 
“I hate myself for leaving them every day, San,” you confess with a shaky voice, trying to calm yourself down. 
“The only thing you could do is survive, angel,” he whispered, putting his hands on your shoulders, and squeezing them. Looking at his bruised face, you reminded yourself that everyone here carried their own scars - both visible and invisible, and your heart hurt even more. “It was the same for me. I had to leave my family behind when I came here so I found a new one. Not that it’ll ever stop hurting any less. All eight of us are the same at heart. We all want the same thing.”
A new world to come, you thought and smiled, thinking of Mingi’s passionate speech from the last time you saw him at the bar. He had told you all about their plans and wanted you to be part of them. To join their found family. 
Now, returning to reality, you regarded San curiously and a little afraid as he came to stand in front of your chair, leaning down to place a kiss on top of your head. Blushing at the affection in his eyes, you cleared your throat, searching for the right words. A week had passed since this moment and none of you had said anything about it so you couldn't help but feel flustered at his every word and action towards you.
“How was I today, coach?” San chuckled, gently tracing the sides of your face with his fingertips, rough from the endless fighting. 
“Could be better,” you gave him your usual response, San grinning and showing his dimples. 
“I have to work harder. But maybe if you stared less...”
“And maybe if you paid less attention to me...”
“That's impossible,” San concluded, crouching down, placing his palms on top of your thighs, and you ran your hands through his messy dark locks. With glinting eyes, he excitedly added, “After tonight’s match some of the boys and I will have a meeting. They want you to come.”
“They?”
“I,” the seriousness in his voice made you let out a laugh and your stomach tightened with anticipation. You had only met Mingi and Wooyoung before with the rest of the boys surrounded by a mist of mystery, with only having heard stories about them. The fact that San was letting you get closer to the people he cherished the most didn't help your fluttering heart either.
“Can't wait.”
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San had dragged you out of the fight club and drove you to your apartment to freshen up before meeting the boys with his old van that, who knew how, still functioned. As he had told you while focused on the bumpy road ahead, the vehicle had turned into, both a prison and a temporary home for him and Wooyoung while they were on the run from the Guardians. Guilt washed over you when San described all of their sleepless nights, fighting the demons following them right behind even in their dreams while you were hiding between the four walls of the safety of your home. Mingi’s wanted posters, his constant cautiousness, and the silver pistol always attached to his hip made so much more sense now. 
Unfortunately, the Guardians had taken notice of them way too early into their secret operations against the government, and now as you were sitting in front of the boys - their features, illuminated by the dim lighting of the storage house you were in, your heart filled with hurt. In the few hours, you got to know Yeosang and Seonghwa, speeding through the highways every night in search of valuable intel and doing all they could to survive another day, your admiration grew with every next moment spent with them. 
Sitting on one of your favourite fluffy blankets on the floor in a circle, eating an improvised dinner consisting of cold chicken nuggets provided by Yeosang, you felt more at home than ever. Mingi and Wooyoung’s silly bickering and friendly teasing, Seonghwa’s warm welcome, Yeosang’s kind smile, and San’s calming presence next to you, filled you with joy, and for the first time in a while, you forgot about the outside world.
“It’s a pity the others couldn’t come today,” said Seonghwa with a sigh as he passed on to you the chocolate bar all of you were sharing. You hadn’t seen one in ages, nor tasted it. Yeosang had just shrugged indifferently earlier at your genuine surprise, telling you he could get one inside the city for you anytime you craved it. 
So now playing with the piece in your mouth, letting the sweetness tickle your taste buds, you hummed in agreement. The rest of the group had to stay undercover for a little longer before joining you. “They would’ve loved to meet you, Y/N.”
“They will,” San joined, squeezing your hand and rubbing his thumb over it. Turning your head to look at him, you were met with his dark eyes, shimmering with a glow as if hundreds of stars were in them. You slowly found yourself being pulled by the gravity of his gaze, unable to look away. 
“Now, can you two not do this,” whined Wooyoung, earning a playful slap on his thigh from Seonghwa, followed by Mingi and Yeosang’s laughs. “I have to put up with you every day at the club. I’m going to start vomiting rainbows soon.”
“Get a life, Woo,” said Mingi, winking at you. Usually, you could fight back and tease Wooyoung but tonight, embarrassment washed over you after his words. “Leave the lovebirds alone.”
Just then, still holding your hand firmly, San pulled you up gently so now both of you were standing. “Then let’s get out of here.”
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The distant hooting of owls, coming deep from the woods, the light chilly late-night breeze, carrying the smell of pines, and San’s warm touch against your skin engulfed your senses, making your head spin. With your eyes closed, all you could do was trust the man as he guided you through the darkness around you. 
“Can I open my eyes,” you asked once again with your previous attempts to get a positive answer out of him being unsuccessful. His deep chuckle vibrated through your body, his hand letting go of yours. Longing for his touch again, you reached forward for him but only brushed through the air. 
“I’ve got you, angel,” San’s raspy voice now came from behind you and you felt him put his hands on your shoulders. “You can open them now.”
The view before your eyes made you tear up and a lump formed in your throat, every word you wanted to utter getting caught up in it. The little fireflies, swinging around in a slow dance around you, their comforting glow, reminding you of those you used to catch in the hot summer nights in front of your childhood house with your brother, the vast field you were standing in the middle of, and the tickling in your legs from the overgrown grass were all images and sensations you thought you’d never see or feel again for the rest of your life.
“How did you find this place,” you whispered, too afraid someone would take this moment away from you. 
“It’s my special place. I think the Guardians have forgotten about it,” said softly San, moving to stand in front of you with a warm smile on his face. “Now I can finally share it with someone else.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Yes, whenever I need to clear my head,” he trailed off, laughing. “And some time away from Wooyoung. The van can be suffocating as much as I enjoy living with him.”
You wondered if this beautiful place was next on the Guardian’s list for destruction. If you’d be able to come back ever again. If it too would disappear with every trace you’d left.
“You’re frowning again,” San’s voice pulled you out of your trance, making you focus on him instead. His face was almost indiscernible in the night, but his eyes and the silver chain, shining around his neck, were illuminated by the moonlight. “You do this often.”
“I guess I’m not used to things like this.” Genuine in a world full of lies. “I feel like you’ll disappear.”
Taking a step closer to you, San put a finger under your chin, your eyes finding his once again. The electrifying feeling of his touch made you dizzy. Now, you could hear his steady heartbeat, with yours drumming in your ears. “I’ll never leave you, angel.”
The moment his lips found yours, enveloping them in a soft kiss, you lost all of your senses and surrendered yourself to him. At first, his touch was gentle as if San was afraid he would hurt you, but once your hands found his neck, your fingers toying with his hair, he got more desperate for you. His own trailed slowly down the sides of your body, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Already out of breath, you felt a fire ignite in your soul that only San could put out. 
He left your lips only to place a few shy kisses down your neck, your heart picking up its rate, slamming against your ribcage. Leaving you gasping and wanting more, San pulled away seconds later, the love and adoration you saw in his eyes making you lose your bearings completely. Cupping your cheeks and bringing his face closer, he rubbed your nose gently with his before placing a kiss on your forehead. 
“The final round is coming soon, Y/N,” he murmured when you closed the distance between you, hugging him around his waist and burrowing your face at the crook of his neck. You took in his scent - woody and musky, hypnotizing you. “We’ll see the new world together.”
Even if that was just an empty promise and even if this new world never came to life, you didn’t care.
All you needed was San there with you - everything else was bearable.
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final round, © moanz111
please do not modify, copy, repost, or translate.
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drysaladandketchup · 2 months
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Mattdrai and 14 please for the Game. Thank you 💜
Thank you, anon! Once again I have failed to understand the word 'mini'. Seriously never ask me to write something short I don't know how to anymore. I hope it's to your liking :)
14. things you said after you kissed me
He expects a lot of things when he walks into the airport toting his life behind him in a suitcase: the drone of hundreds of voices, the inevitable bustle of bodies, brightly lit screens flashing so much information it makes your head spin, lines, because there's always lines everywhere for everything, the smell of fifteen different coffee shops vying for traveller's attention. Fuck knows he's going to need one of those soon.
What he doesn't expect is to be grabbed mid-yawn as he's on his way to check his luggage. If he was already jittery about the move before, he nearly has a heart attack now when a hand latches onto his bicep and drags him into a shadowy alcove, half-concealed by a thick pillar.
Matthew's brain very unhelpfully provides him with the image of being mugged before he's even out of Calgary. Pissed off fans angry he's leaving for bright, sunny, warm-all-year-round Florida, perhaps? Some even more pissed off Edmontonian who saw he was leaving and came down here thinking now's my chance? He wouldn't put it past some of them.
He's not too far off the mark with that last one. When he rips his arm free and spins to face his assailant, he laughs right in their face.
"Jesus, dude, you look like a stalker."
In fairness, Leon usually dresses pretty decent. But right now he's in plain jeans and a thick, unassuming pull-over sweater--it's fucking summer in Calgary, who does that?--with the hood pulled up over a snap-back, head ducked low so the brim hides part of his face.
"Didn't want to be recognized," Leon says, somewhat defensively, like he's only now realising how very conspicuous he looks in a place like this.
"I got that." Matthew checks his phone. He's got a bit of time for... for whatever this is, so he sets his stuff down and leans against the wall across from Leon. It only puts a couple feet of space between them.
"What are you doing here?"
Leon tugs the hood and hat off his head, runs fingers through his hair. It's still pretty long--Leon's let it grow since the spring, and Matthew has very distinct memories of running fingers through it--but it's also uncharacteristically messy. He doesn't look entirely focused, either; there's shadows under his eyes.
"I came to see you," Leon says.
Suddenly, Matthew really wishes he wasn't here. Either of them. It's been two weeks since they've seen each other, since Matthew broke the news. Not that it was Leon's business. They weren't... weren't anything. Not partners, anyways. Not really. And this was Matthew's choice, his career, his future he was considering. That had to come first.
But now Leon's here, and Matthew has never wanted to run so badly in his life. This didn't feel like running before. The earth could split open and swallow him whole, and it would be kinder than that look on Leon's face, all anger and desperation and confusion and... God, he looks so fucking tired.
It's a 9am flight to Florida. It's just past six now. The sun's barely up.
"Have you slept at all?" Matthew asks, instead of a million other questions.
Leon shoves his hands in the pocket of his sweater and shakes his head. "I couldn't."
"So you drove all the way down here."
"Don't sound so surprised."
"Hard not to be when you haven't talked to me in weeks."
Leon's mouth twists. Slumped back against the wall, curled in on himself, it may be one of the few times Matthew could ever say he looks small. Fragile.
Sighing, Leon finally, finally looks Matthew in the eye. He's not scowling like the last time they met, the night he stood in Matthew's doorway and told him he didn't understand anything before storming out of Matthew's life.
"I thought we should talk. Before you go," Leon says.
Matthew does understand, now. He put it together staring at Leon's back as he disappeared into the night. He knows why Leon's really here. What he really means.
I wanted to see you.
It's amazing how many people say Leon is hard to read. He's always been an open book to Matthew, even when he was snapping and bearing his teeth. All his emotions spilling from the pages.
"Okay." Matthew swallows. "We can talk."
Neither of them does, for a minute. They stare at each other, through each other. Remembering. Committing all the little details to memory. Matthew's palms tingle with the urge to touch.
"You kissed me," Leon finally says, "then said you were leaving."
Yeah, not Matthew's finest moment, if he's being honest. But he didn't know what else to do. There was already so much turmoil around the trade and the shit going on with the Flames.
And then there was Leon. There was no way it wouldn't be gruesome.
"How long did you know?" Leon's voice is rigid, but still calm. "Would you actually have told me, if I hadn't come to see you?"
A year ago, yeah, he would have said it was none of Leon's damn business. Why would he care? But they've come a long way since then. Farther than Matthew could have anticipated. Farther than he realised, until he was staring at Leon's retreating back and silently begging him to turn around, to come back, to stay.
Of course Matthew was going to tell him. He's not an asshole. But that's not what this is about.
"Does it really matter?"
"It matters to me."
"You're not here because you're pissed I didn't tell you sooner."
He knows why Leon's here, and he knows why part of him is stupidly happy Leon is here. Even if nothing will change.
"Did you even think about how I'd--" Leon groans, scratches at the back of his head.
"I did," Matthew says, because it's the truth. Of course he thought about Leon. How could he not?
Leon's gaze drops to the floor, and he grits out, "Fuck. I wanted to do this better."
Matthew can practically hear time ticking by. His heartbeat makes a good clock, thudding away in his chest.
"What is this, Leon? What do you want?"
Dangerous question. Leon could say a million things that would make Matthew's entire resolve waver. If they're not done, if there's even a sliver of hope...
But Leon doesn't say anything. Instead he steps forward, cups Matthew's face between his hands, and kisses him. Not rough or desperate. There's no urgency. It's slow and deep and bruising, and Matthew melts into it because he could never do anything else, and Leon holds tight like he thinks Matthew will disappear if he doesn't.
It's an apology and a confession. It's not the first time they've kissed, but it may be the first time it's been an honest one.
It doesn't last long. Matthew barely has time to taste it, savour it, get a fistful of Leon's hoodie like he's the one threatening to leave. There's a moment as Leon pulls back where Matthew thinks he's imagined it all. Where it feels like something precious is slipping between his fingers.
But no, Leon's still there when he opens his eyes, pressed from hip to chest, noses brushing, beard catching Matthew's freshly shaved cheek. Hot breathes mingle between their mouths.
"Would you stay," Leon whispers, hand sliding back to tangle through Matthew's curls, "if I asked?"
He didn't ask the night Matthew told him. He was too angry, too upset. It took Matthew too long to realise why, to recognise what he was seeing on Leon's face was heartbreak.
But they both know the answer. Still, Matthew closes his eyes and takes the luxury of thinking about it. Considers the possibilities.
"Would you actually ask?" he says.
Leon's fingers curl around the back of Matthew's neck. "If I thought you'd actually say yes."
"But you won't."
"No."
"Because you know I won't."
"I know."
"It's not you."
"I know." Leon steps back only as far as Matthew's grip on his hoodie will allow. "Fuck, you don't make things easy."
Matthew chuckles. "When have I ever? You're not winning any awards either."
Leon scoffs.
"Still," Matthew says. "This is better than what you said to me the first time we kissed."
"What did I say?"
"Pretty sure it was, 'Get the fuck out of my arena.' And something about hoping I lose my next game."
Leon smirks. Doesn't look even a little sorry. "And did you lose your next game?"
"Fuck off." Matthew shoves his shoulder, unable to keep a grin from tugging at his mouth.
He looks away only long enough to straighten out his shirt and run a hand through his hair, but when he looks back, Leon isn't smiling anymore, and his brows are pulled low.
"I really fucked up my timing, huh?"
Matthew winces. "Just a little, yeah." Makes two of us. He's about to say more but Leon waves a hand.
"But you were going to leave anyways, I know. I got it."
"Leon--"
"I'm not here to stop you. I just wanted to... you know."
I don't want this to be over. I want to make this work.
Still an open book.
Matthew angles his head, forces Leon's eyes back to him, staring right into that mystifying grey-blue that always reminded him of a thunderstorm. Everything about Leon kind of reminds him of one. What does that make Matthew? A whirlwind? A hurricane? Storms, both of them.
"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Matthew steps closer, crowding Leon against the wall this time. They may not have known what they were doing before, but Matthew knows what he wants now.
Leon must have found his answer too, because he kisses Matthew again, no less meaningful than the last, pulling Matthew into his body, into his hands, his mouth. Breathing his air and tasting his tongue, giving and taking until they're light-headed and fitting pieces of each other together.
"You better not be fucking with me, Draisaitl," Matthew pants out once he's got his breath back.
He doesn't get far before he's pulling Leon to him, into his arms, getting the bulk of him in a crushing hug. And Leon hugs him back, a deep laugh rumbling right in Matthew's ear and fingers carving into his back. That's answer enough.
Somehow, Matthew is strong enough to let go. And just like that the world is moving again. He's too aware of everything outside their little alcove, so loud and invasive. He's running out of time. His future's waiting for him down south.
When they step back out into bright lights and bustling strangers, Leon's got his hat and hood back on, keeping his head tilted low. He doesn't stray far, bumping Matthew's arm every so often as he walks with him through luggage check and down towards the gates.
They get to security, and for the first time since the trade decision was made, Matthew hesitates. This is what he wanted. What he still wants. What he needs. The only variable left is...
Leon has stopped a few steps behind, leaving Matthew stranded and alone. He turns back around to find Leon watching him silently. They may as well be the only ones in the world, the way his vision tunnels.
"Well," Matthew says, words clogging his throat. "Guess I'll... see you around. We'll talk. I'll call, or..."
"I'm serious, Matthew." His name always sounds beautiful and dangerous on Leon's tongue. "About this. You and me."
And fuck, Matthew's only human. He drops his bag, marches back over to Leon and tugs him into another kiss. He nearly knocks the hat off Leon's head with the force, crushing his lips and clacking their teeth together. It doesn't even matter if people see them.
One more time. Just one more. Until they can see each other again.
"I know." Matthew shudders against Leon's eager mouth, kissing the smile that breaks out under his lips. "I want to try us too."
He swallows the strangled sound that comes up from Leon's throat, tipsy with it, like he's getting drunk just from this. Is that possible? Fuck knows, but he sure as hell wants to find out one day.
Matthew jerks back, breathless, hot-cheeked, and beaming.
"And I'm gonna be fucking great."
If Leon wasn't slack-jawed, if they weren't the them they are now, he would have chirped Matthew to high hell. If they were on the ice he'd probably put Matthew into the boards just for fun.
But the Leon here and now only scoffs, shaking his head like he's been well and truly defeated. Then he smiles.
"Yeah, I know. So get the fuck out of here and go be great."
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Feminist and The Fratboy AU
THEORETICALLY, I COULD WRITE MORE BUT AS OF RN I KIND OF LIKE HOW IT'S ENDED AND STUFF?? it's not as smutty as i wanted but y'all i really think this is the essence of them, feminist mikasa and fratboy eren WE DO LOVE
She’s sitting in his room, lazily turning herself in loops on his desk chair, spinning around over and over again. And isn’t that the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. 
And yet here she fucking is, in the bedroom of one Eren Yeager, expecting it to play out differently than it has the hundred or so other times she’s been in this exact position. 
Her socked foot taps against the edge of his desk once more, giving her the momentum she needs for one more spin– but she’s stopped. 
Eren is glaring at her, his own foot wedged harshly between her and the desk, “No more.” She winces, definition of fucking insanity. 
“I should go,” Mikasa tells him, sitting up from the comfort of her swivel chair, she should at least pretend she wants to leave, that she has some dignity. “No, we have to work on our gender women’s studies assignment, I need a good mark if I don’t want to worry about the final.” Mikasa glares at him miserably, slumping back into the comfort of the plush high-backed swivel chair, the one she is sure is used for all too much video gaming, “You could, you know apply yourself, that might help.” Eren shoots her an unimpressed look, “Why would I do that when I have an angry little feminist at my beck and call.”
This time she stands up, fully intending to leave, but Eren shoves her back, his foot on her thigh, dumping her right back into her chair, “Relax, Miki, I didn’t mean it.” Debatable. 
She quirks an eyebrow at him, irritated, and a smirk tugs at Eren’s lips, those smug, full lips that she loves to kiss way too much, he’s so fucking irritating.
“Don’t be so sensitive.” She could murder him right now, in cold blood, and ruin his mother’s perfectly beige carpet.
For a moment she considers it, her eyes flickering toward the butter knife, lying innocently on the dirty plate on his desk. It’s probably from before she got here, when Mama’s boy eating his dinner at his desk, like a fucking king. 
Her face twists into a scowl and Eren’s smirk blooms into a full-on grin, but he must sense her rage because he puts his hands up in surrender, just before she can make a grab for the dull silver of the blade. 
“Fine, I’m sorry,” he kicks her affectionately, and she comes back to herself, stops contemplating murder, just three words from him and it’s over, her brain a puddle of mush, “You know I love my angry little feminist.” “Fuck off.” He’s practically beaming now, man spreading wide from his seat on the bed and Mikasa turns to glance over at her notebook, the list of prompts for an essay they need to write. 
“What do you think chivalry is?” Mikasa reads aloud, picking up her pen to tap against the desk, she looks up at Eren curiously, awaiting an answer from the very antithesis of feminism himself. 
“Get on your knees.”
He says it with such authority, such confidence that she’s already moving to obey before she stops herself, hands clutching the armrests of her chair. 
“What?” He doesn’t elaborate, simply jerks with his chin, repeating himself, “Get on your knees.” Mikasa hates herself for following his directions, feels like a fever dream as she drops to her knees, only to find herself looking up at him now from between his legs, that dark feral smile on his lips. 
For a moment, it’s quiet, and she simply sits there, her breathing quick as she tries to figure out his angle, and looks up at him through long dark lashes, coated in the most carefully applied mascara, a layer so thin it doesn’t look like she’s wearing it at all. 
Because despite her rabid dislike of him, she’d wanted to be pretty, to affect him in the same way he does her, for his heart to skip a beat, his breath to come a little faster. Her heart is galloping in her chest as she looks up at him, the tense set of his shoulders, the complete and total fucking power he has over her, on her knees between his legs, looking up at him, awaiting her fate, her pretty face inches from his cock. 
His hand moves and she flinches, expecting what, she doesn’t know, but his touch is soft, his smile still dark, eyes glazed over with something she can’t name, lust, desire, power? 
Carefully, he traces a hand over her face, his thumb brushing over the hollow of her cheek, before slipping up to catch her bangs. He gathers her hair back, tucking it from her face with soft reverence, his other coming up to catch any stray strands. 
He tangles his right hand through the silky strands of her, knotting it at the base of her skull so he has a firm hold, his other hand tipping her chin up roughly. His voice is gravelly as he speaks, evergreen eyes hooded, “Chivalry is holding your hair back while you suck my cock, Miki.”
Her mouth parts, from shock, or an unconscious desire, she doesn’t know, and the wicked smirk on his lips grows. He drops her chin to tug his sweatpants down, his dick jerking up as he’s released from his confines, no boxers because of course he’s not wearing any. He slaps against her cheek lewdly, a drop of pre brushing against her mouth as he lines himself up, resting comfortably against her cheek. 
She’s entranced, watching as he gives himself an experimental stroke, even his own hands not enough to grip his cock completely, an inch or so left out, the thick length of him daunting against the delicate lines of her face.
He’s an imposing figure as he jerks himself off, and Mikasa is caught, silver eyes enraptured. She takes her lower lip between her teeth, tasting the saltiness of his pre, her breath coming faster now, her head foggy with desire. 
“To me Miki,” Eren continues, his voice a low rumble that has her staving off a moan as it settles over her, “Chivalry is keeping your hair out of your eyes so you don’t have to worry.” Eren yanks at her long raven locks, a slow almost painful pull, reminding her of the hold he has on her, the literal and metaphorical grasp he has, how she couldn’t shake him off even if she wanted to. 
“So you can be a good girl and focus on sucking me off.”  
He gives her hair another experimental tug, pulling her just a touch closer, just enough so that plump lips kiss against the hard length of his cock, saliva coating the obscene length of him, a sweet massage that she has no doubt he doesn’t deserve. 
“That’s what I think chivalry is,” He looks down at her, smiling dark with mirth, almost gleeful as her lips part, the weeping head of his cock slipping into her mouth, unbidden, a movement all her own, “Wouldn’t you agree, Miki?” Definition of insanity, huh? Call her insane, then. 
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