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lxclerc · 1 month

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𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 ─ 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

summary: where oscar has done everything in his power to make his feelings for you as obvious as possible, but you are simply quite clueless to the poor boy’s advances pairing: oscar piastri x driver!reader warning: fluff, oblivious reader

note: i wrote this in two hours and it's purely for fun. i did not bother thinking about how realistic this could be at all so it's a bit ridiculous i think

masterlist

sometimes, oscar just wants to run into a wall and knock himself out.

maybe that would shake his brain enough for it to formulate a plan for you to finally realize all the oh so awfully obvious hints he’s been dropping. he’s been so obvious that the entire world knows it; all the other drivers, mechanics from practically every team, reporters, fans. literally everybody has picked up on his pitiful attempts at catching your attention but you.

or maybe he needed to push you down a flight of stairs and knock you out for you to finally figure out that he likes you as more than friends. because at this point, it’s starting to get ridiculous. he’s been pursuing you since f3. in every ridiculous challenge with prema to every track walks and everything in between, he’s done everything possible to show you that he likes you, fancies you, absolutely besotted to the sound of your voice.

that never seems to discourage him though, if anything, it only makes him like you more. robert once joked that you’d put a spell on him and oscar can’t quite deny it if he’s being honest.

“y/n, wait up!” he called to you right before the driver’s parade, leaving lando behind him, who whispered a quick good luck to him.

hearing your name made you turn to him, an instant smile on your face that made oscar’s heart violently lurch forward. most of the time, you preferred to keep your hair in a tight ponytail, wanting all the little strands out of your face when you’re on track but this time, strands had fallen off the paintail, framing your face in such a perfect way that knocks the breath out of oscar’s lungs.

you’re perfect in his eyes all the time of course; even in the few times you’d pushed him off track, but there’s something so ethereal about you when your smile is for him.

charles, your teammate, and lewis whom you were previously talking to subtle stepped away from you in order to give the two of you a moment. charles throws oscar a small thumbs up with that maniacal smile of his whenever he’s fortunate enough to be able to watch oscar absolutely get crushed by y/n’s cluelessness every time he tries and drops a hint to his feelings.

“hey, osc,” you greet, easily falling into step with him.

“hey, how’s the down under treating you?” he asked, trying to act casually as he buried his hands in his pockets.

he winced at his own words. how’s the down under treating you? really?

at least you seem to find it amusing as you award him with a chuckle, hand instinctively wrapping around his arm the way girls do when they’re really comfortable with you and don’t want you to get lost in the crowd. you only ever do it to him (and he’s made sure to check) and it never fails to quite literally turn him to mush.

“you know i’ve adored it!” you gush. you love australia, this is no secret to everyone , so much so that you’ve joked about it being your second home race, to which oscar have always enthusiastically nodded in agreement to. “charles, alexandra and i went cafe hopping all around melbourne yesterday.”

oscar hummed, trying to hide the hint of disappointment in his face that you hadn’t asked him to accompany you like the few times in the past but he knows that you and charles’ girlfriend have formed a very close friendship. “is that so? i’m glad you had fun.”

you smile up at him. “how about you? i reckon it’s nice being back home, isn’t it?”

“absolutely. the family’s been asking about you, by the way.” he just wanted you to keep talking. you could talk his ears off for hours and oscar would never complain.

you face instantly light up at that. “i’ll make sure to drop by the mclaren garage later. i miss nicole.”

“she missed you too,” he says before clearing his throat. “so um, are you immediately flying out tomorrow?”

you shook your head. “no, i’m planning to stay for a couple more days.”

“oh good.” he thanked god his hands were buried in his pockets so you can’t see how much they’re shaking. “you’re free tomorrow then?”

you nod and he nods back at you awkwardly. “yeah.”

“oh good.” stop. stop. he already said that. “do you want to check out that restaurant we went to during f2 maybe?”

your face lights up again and your hand that’s holding on to his arm squeezes it ever so slightly in excitement. “oh absolutely. maybe i can bring charles and alex along and you can bring lando and logan.”

oscar wanted the ground to just swallow him up. he could probably shout i love you at you while staring directly into your eyes and you’d think he’s talking to someone behind you. one time in f2, he wrote all his feelings for you in a note and gave it to you only for you to hand it straight to robert without even glancing at it thinking he just wanted for you to pass it along. another time, he spent hours and hours trying to gather the courage to wrap his arm around your shoulder only for you to grinned up at him and wrap your arm around logan’s shoulder thinking he’d just wanted the three of you to huddle around. oscar is running out of ideas if he’s being honest.

“that sounds…fun, but i was hoping, maybe, it could just be — you know, the two of us. like old times,” he manages to let out.

“poor oscar,” lando says as he, charles, max and lewis watch your interaction.

“oscar should just kiss her already,” max said.

charles cackled at that, shaking his head. “she’d probably think it’s a friendly kiss.”

“maybe he just needs to shake her shoulder and scream im stupidly in love with you right on her face,” lewis joked as they kept watching the two of you.

oscar watched as you let go of his arm, leaning onto the railing for the parade. you seem to take your precious time twisting the cup of your water bottle open and torturing oscar at the way your throat constricted as you drank water before you turned back to him with a smile. “yeah, sure, osc. i’d love that.”

oscar returned back to the group of boys with a dopey smile on his face, high off of you as lando slapped him on the shoulder in a small congratulations.

charles couldn’t help but laugh at the look of the younger driver. “y/n’s broken him, i think.”

—

logan tried to contain his amusement as his australian best friend fell on his hotel room’s couch with his face buried in his hands, groaning in frustration and looking red in the face. oscar wore a loose white button up with a dark pair of jeans. he’d even worn his nice shoes for the occasion, wanting to be as presentable as possible as he picked you up from your hotel room to see you in the prettiest sundress in the most beautiful shade of blue that contrasted perfectly with your skin.

the two of you ate and laughed and walked around with you holding on to his arm as oscar gathered the courage all night to tell you how he felt.

“and then what happened?” logan asked as oscar groaned, frustratedly running his hands through his hair.

“i told her i love her,” he muttered to himself and you smiled at him with that beautiful smile of yours.

“that’s great, osc!” logan tried to cheer him up, clapping him on the back as he remained hunched over the couch. “what did she say?”

that seems to be a sore spot as oscar only groaned louder, petulantly kicking his shoes off. he can’t quite fathom how such a perfect night turned to him crashing in his best mate’s room so he can vent.

“she said, and i quote ‘aw, osc. i love you too. you’re one of my best friends.’ and then i just about died on the spot.”

logan winced at that, his hand now rubbing on oscar’s shoulder in comfort. “well, maybe next time the wording should be ‘i’m in love with you’?”

but oscar only groaned again. “this is a lost cause. best friend? is that all i am?” oscar starts his rant. “am i just one the many best friends in her life? will we drift apart after we both retire? at this point, i’d count myself lucky if i ever get invited to her wedding. maybe if i want to push my luck, i could be the fucking godfather of her kids.”

and logan only winced again because he never even thought someone could be that clueless and oblivious.

—

“you look beautiful, y/n,” oscar tells you as he passes you by the media pen, ignoring the cameras and lando’s knowing grin.

“thanks, osc. you look quite handsome yourself.” a dust of pink covers your cheeks as you smile at him, hand reaching to squeeze his lightly as you pass him by, being led by your pr team.

for a moment, oscar freezes on the spot, unable to stop the way all his blood rushed to his cheeks and the smile that stretched across his lips.

“mate, pull yourself together,” lando teases, pushing oscar forward to get him out of what lando dubs as the ‘y/n l/n induced lovesick daze’.

a reporter who’d seen the entire interaction couldn’t help but laugh as she said; “y/n truly is quite a sight, isn’t she?”

oscar didn’t think his cheeks could get anymore red as he nodded. “she always has been the most beautiful girl.”

lando playfully rolled his eyes as he and oscar continued on. if he was being honest with himself, even he is getting tired with the constant pining between you and oscar. the boy could scream at the top of his lungs how in love he is with you and you’d still think it’s all platonic. this entire thing was getting a bit too pitiful for both of your friends to watch.

which is why charles and lando have taken it upon themselves to finally force you to see what’s right in front of you. oscar loved you too much to even think about putting you in any form of uncomfortable situation even if it comes at his own expense, thankfully for lando and charles, they don’t share the same sentiment and so the two got to planning.

it was simple enough really. lando grabbed oscar by his collar, dragging him all over the paddock towards the ferrari motorhome.

“lando,” oscar whined behind him. “what the fuck are you doing?”

“trust me, mate, this is for your own good,” said his teammate, ignoring all the cameras that had gathered around them, following along.

“can’t you at least let me walk on my own?” oscar complained again, hunched over as lando quite literally dragged him by his mclaren shirt’s collar.

lando shook his head. “nope. i legitimately cannot handle this not going the way it’s meant to again.”

in the distance, both mclaren boys heard you voice your complaints to charles as your teammate held you on the shoulder to keep you in place, a group of mechanics and engineers huddle around the two of you, watching in curiosity,

finally, lando let go of oscar, allowing him to stand properly as the younger boy threw a glare at him while fixing his shirt. then he found himself face to face with you, confusion all over your face as it finally dawned on him what this is all about.

“oscar?” you asked, looking between him and lando along with the group that had accumulated on their way to ferrari. “what are you all doing here?”

lando and charles folded their arms over their chest as charles motioned towards the two of you. “we figured the only way for you to finally get it is if there’s an audience.”

“get what?” you asked again and oscar, palms already sweating in front of you and looking as though he’d rather get struck by lightning awkwardly cleared his throat.

“well get on to it, oscar,” lando says though his accent makes oscar’s name sound like oscah and oscar almost wanted to punch him there and then.

again, oscar awkwardly cleared his throat as you finally face him. “y/n, i have to tell you something.”

you motioned for him to continue. “okay. what is it, osc?”

“i don’t know how else to tell you this without being upfront about it so—”

“what’s going on here?” and at the moment, fred vasseur stepped into the scene, confusion all over his face as he found practically half the paddock inside his motorhome, all of them crowding around you and oscar.

everyone groaned, charles threw his hands up in frustration and lando wanted to bang his head against the table. “fred, you’re my boss, but please stop talking.”

fred was just about to say something else when charles physically dragged him to his side to shut him up.

you turned back to oscar, encouraging him to keep talking even though you would have preferred more privacy.

“i like you a lot,” he finally blurts out. “ever since f3. no, way before that. ever since karting.”

you smile at him kindly. “i like you too, oscar. i told you, you’re one of my best friends—”

every one groaned, cutting you off and oscar shook his head.

“no, y/n. you don’t get it. i don’t just like you. i’m very much in love with you,” he emphasized, remembering logan’s words about wording it properly as he took her hand in his shaky ones. “like…i want to spend my life with you kind of in love with you.”

you eyes widened in surprise and a part of oscar had thought that maybe you were just in complete denial the entire time but he realized now that you truly, absolutely had no idea about his feelings. he doesn’t know which one is worse if he’s being honest with himself.

“well, why didn’t you tell me, osc?” you ask gently.

“love,” he starts softly, the nickname effortlessly rolling off his tongue. “i can’t count anymore how many times i’ve told you and how many times i’ve tried to tell you and how many times i tried to show you.”

“i never noticed.” for a moment, you seem completely dumbfounded and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips at the adorable way your mouth parted in surprised. you’re adorable, beautiful, gorgeous and every other adjective even if you unintentionally made his life hell the past few years.

“that’s alright,” he reassures you.

you couldn’t help but smile shyly at him as you squeezed his hand. “well, if it makes a difference, i’m very much in love with you as well. like…i want to spend the rest of my life with you kind of in love.”

at that, he laughed again, pulling you towards him as your lips crashed together.

and everyone fucking cheered at that.

general tag list: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny @sunf1ower16 @lord-sharl-perceval @callsign-scully @saturnsrinqs @darleneslane @nmw-am @stopeatread

let me know if you guys want to be added to the general tag list or a specific driver's tag list or even if you want to be removed from the tag list because i get how annoying consistently getting tagged is.

#f1 x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 #formula 1 #f1 one shot

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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katie mccabe, “are you blushing?”, any place 🫶🏻

hot in here II k.mccabe

"oh gosh its a bit much isn't it?" your mum spoke with wide eyes and a wince as your girlfriend went tumbling to the ground, up on her feet within seconds and shoving at the chest of the player who'd taken her down.

"thats it katie! get into her girl!" your dad cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted supportively as you smacked him on the shoulder. "dad! don't encourage her." you groaned, pulling him to sit back down as both katie and the other player were awarded yellows.

"mccard strikes again." you heard someone chuckle behind you, shaking your head as your dad turned around to speak with them. "she gets a lot of those is all." you explained to your mum who seemed hopelessly confused.

"wait why is there more time?" your mum frowned as they announced there would be three added minutes of injury time. "its extra time to make up for the time where the game isn't played. like if a player falls down and needs medical attention the game is paused, so this is the time added for that interruption." you explained as she exhaled in understanding.

"go on katie! rip in!" your dad shouted as your girlfriend readied herself for a throw in, catching your eye with a wink and a grin before turning and lobbing the ball towards steph. "i hope you know the more you fluff her ego the more insufferable she gets." you sighed as time ticked down.

"ah she's confident! you need confidence to be successful. she's good at what she does and she knows it, that should be encouraged!" your dad patted your knee as you only hummed. "you should try living with her then." you chuckled with a shake of your head.

"oh! theres that lovely song again." your mum beamed as katies chant started up, your dad yelling along as katie took off down the right hand side. "go on katie! go girl!" your dad boomed as suddenly she side stepped the last player in her way and hit the ball with aloud thud, sending it hurtling forward toward alessia who tapped it in widening arsenals 3-0 lead.

you grinned as your girlfriend raced past you and your parents blowing you a kiss and giving them a wave as there was barely time for villa to kick off before the final whistle blew.

"oh that was exciting. i still don't understand much but i see why you like it!" your mum pulled you into a hug making you laugh. "she appreciates you made the effort to come, but she was nervous this morning." you revealed, watching as katie did her laps thanking fans, stopping every now and then to sign something.

"katie? nervous? thats something you need to see to believe!" your dad laughed patting you on the back as you chatted away with them, introducing them to leahs mum who made her way over to say hello, all four of you speaking until you heard a familiar whistle.

"we'll be down in two seconds darling." your mum nodded for you to go as you left them with amanda and made your way down to your girlfriend.

"well aren't you a sight for sore eyes stranger." the irishwoman teased, having been away the last week visiting your parents before they returned back with you to spend the next few days in london.

"wow its been so long when was the last time i saw you? oh was it maybe...this morning in bed?" you teased, having returned last night. "i'd almost forgotten what your face looked like." you winked, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

whatever smooth one line she intended to quip back with was interrupted at the arrival of your parents, katie hopping over the barrier to greet them properly as your dad launched into a very animated recap of how well she played.

"oh and that yellow? load of horse shit you were only defending yourself!" your dad bellowed as you winced, his voice carrying far beyond your small huddle. "dad!" you hissed, katies arm wrapping around your waist as her hand grazed the small of your back in a wordless comfort.

"i warned you they wouldn't let you pay baby." you laughed as you and katie stepped inside your shared home, unwrapping the multitude of layers which had been keeping you protected from the bitter chill of a winter evening in london.

"i'm callin ahead next time and settin up a tab!" your girlfriend scowled, having been easily shut down by your dad who'd paid for everyone's dinner despite both you and katie trying to protest it.

"watch it mccabe, at your age you'll get frown lines and crows feet." you teased, reaching up to smooth the wrinkles from her furrowed forehead. "oi! watch it cheeky i'm only a year older than ya." the defender warned as you sent her a wink and made your way to the living room.

"my parents really enjoyed the game baby, and you certainly gave them a show to watch." you grinned, pulled into your girlfriends lap as she sank into the lounge beside you. "i'm glad they finally got to see one, we'll get em to a national game next and then they'll really see a show!" the brunette smiled wolfishly as you laughed and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"i think my dad might actually contend me for your biggest fan, he was going on and on and on about you long before kick off. mum said he stayed up watching a bunch of your highlights in the hotel, she had to take his phone to force him to sleep!" you laughed, a slight pink flush coating your girlfriends cheeks at your words.

"are you blushing?" you gasped, grabbing her face as she frowned and shook her head. "no! its just...warm in here. me cheeks are red from it being so cold outside!" katie dismissed with a wave as you smirked.

"you're blushingg, you're so cute baby." you cooed, pinching her cheeks mockingly and shaking her face side to side teasingly. "aih lay off! i am not and i don't blush." katie scoffed with a roll of her eyes, shoving you off of her causing you to yelp.

"we've got mccabe! who? katie mccabe! who? i just don't think you understand!" you started to cry out, standing to your feet as the footballer stared up at you unamused. "she plays out on the wing, she blushes at every little thing, we've got katie mccabe!" you sang out, squealing as she grabbed at you and pulled you down back to lay across her lap.

"did you not like the remix babe? i think it'll go down a treat at the emirates." you smirked, your girlfriend glaring down at you though you saw the usual sparks of amusement and mischief present in her eyes.

"you're bloody lucky you're so cute darlin or i'd have dropped you a long time ago." "oh god and she's a charmer too? the full package you are love, i'll try to work that into the next verse."

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso community #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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seongclb · 6 months

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LIKE A MAGNET ! sim jaeyun

“you’ve called me a lot of things, sim jaeyun, but never have you called me a magnet.”

“not like that! i just meant, we’re not as alike as we think. kinda like a magnet..”

SYNOPSIS. whereby your academic rival, jake sim, returns after spending a year in australia to come back and restore his place: as top physics student but also your (hopefully) boyfriend.

PAIRING. academic rivals to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, flirty!jake x fmr

GENRE. fluff, light angst.

WARNINGS. cursing, jake being flirty, kissing but not making out.

WORD COUNT. 7512 words

N. finally out yelp i think this is not as good as i wanted it to be but i have to post as promised so pls make sure to give feedback and stuff !! special thanks to mari for beta reading :) i love u pooks

TAGLIST. @sjyuns <3… @dollkis @taejaysmain @dear-hoon @oldjws @jjakey02 @luvistqrzzz @yizhoutv @mrchweeee @darly6n @hoonieluv @ghostiiess @jaeyunsonlyone @en-happiness @loumin908 @tasnim10 @rikisly @samyu01 @ashrocker123 @enhastolemyheart @enhaz1 @viagumi @articxari @vnsux @mersmoon @jungwonderz

Kicking your shoes off, you step into your house as your mother frantically scours the house for her expensive china plates.

“Mum, what’s going on?” You wonder, looking around at the house and noticing how all your awards and family photos are out. You groaned, this only meant one thing - guests were coming today.

Great, you thought. After a tiring day with your best friends driving you mentally and physically insane, you now had to entertain guests in your own house when all you wanted to do was lay in the comforts of your bed.

“The Sims are back from Australia,” your Mum announces while pushing you up the stairs.

You pause as your heart plummets down your stomach, “What do you mean?”

Your mum chuckles, “The Sims! Don’t tell me you forgot about them already. It’s only been a year.”

“Mother, this has been the best year of my life. Why are they back? Wasn’t Mr Sim, like, settled in his new job? Why are they coming here of all places, too?”

Your mum narrows her eyes at you as your father steps into the room, struggling with his tie, “Ah, Y/n you’re home! You’d better go up and get dressed. The Sims are arriving soon.”

“So, I’ve heard,” you huff. “I know we’re family friends but shouldn’t they settle in their house first? Why are they coming here already?”

“Because,” your dad sighs. “Mr Sim and I have secured a business deal. We’re going to be partners in the firm soon, which is why they’re back. Of course, we have to welcome them with a nice meal.”

You groan and cross your arms, “Isn’t this something you discuss with your daughter first?”

Laughing, your dad pinches your cheek sweetly, “Now, why would this concern you? Go upstairs and get dressed, you must be hungry after practice today.”

It takes every fibre in your being to not stomp up the stairs in defiance. Sim Jaeyun, the cause of your distress throughout your entire school whole life was returning after a blissful year of peace. The mere thought of it made you want to rip every strand of hair out of your head.

Stepping into your room, your eyes immediately set on the expensive dress sitting on your bed that your mum laid out for you. Just as your parents requested, you hopped into the shower to prepare for the dreadful evening ahead. It’s not like you weren’t used to this; your parents worked in especially high fields and earned decent salaries. It was more than normal for them to have these important, yet over the top, dinners every few months meaning you had to dress up like this often. The only issue was him.

You could already hear his irritating giggles from your bedroom. Amazingly, they were the same as you had remembered.

Before you could even take a deep breath, there were soft knocks at your door, “Mum, I’m coming. Thirty seconds.”

There were the knocks again. Rolling your eyes, you swung your door open, ready to ask your mother why she couldn’t wait for thirty seconds, when you saw him leaning on the archway of the door. His lips were curled into that familiar smirk of his, yet Jake looked so different. His hair was much shorter, slicked back slightly but a strand of it falling onto his forehead.

It had only been a year, yet you were more than surprised to see Sim Jaeyun actually looking semi decent.

His eyes are playful as they rake over your figure, checking you out head to toe. The feeling of Jake’s eyes boring into you evoked a sense of insecurity to wash over. Since when did you care about him looking at you?

“Hurry up,” he ruffles your hair as he runs down the stairs. Forgetting about the annoying action he had just done, you pause for a moment; his words replaying in your mind. It seemed that Jake’s looks weren’t the only thing that was different but he had developed a strong Australian accent, too. It wasn’t attractive, though.

No, of course, not. That was impossible, being Jake Sim.

You fix your hair before following him into the living room where his parents are sitting on the couch in your living room.

Mrs Sim smiles at you as you greet her, “Y/n! You’ve grown so much.”

She engulfs you in a tight hug as you giggle, “No, I look the same. You look better than ever, of course.”

She shakes her head as she makes room for you on the couch, “Nonsense, you’ve gotten even prettier just like Jaeyun. He’s gotten so handsome now, right?”

You nod, sending an obvious fake smile towards his direction.

Jake clears his throat as he brings his glass of water to his lips, “Y/n, have you grown any taller since last year?”

You force a polite chuckle, despite wanting to throw your glass at the smile on his lips, “Maybe a few inches.”

Jake nods, pursing his lips to prevent a wider smile from breaking out, “I see.”

He sits opposite you at the dinner table, sending you winks every so often just to get a sneaky middle finger or a dirty look in return when no one was looking.

“Y/n, you’ll have to show Jaeyun around tomorrow,” Your dad says to you.

“I’m sure he knows where everythings been. It’s only been a year,” You smile.

Jake leans over, “I heard there were some changes. I’m afraid I might get late to some of my classes.”

You turn to Jake, “Oh, really? Who said that?”

“Sunghoon,” Jake smirks back at you.

You nod, of course he did. Sunghoon was the little provoker in your feud with Jake; always meddling to give Jake new ideas on how to annoy you. That was clearly one of his duties as Jake’s best friend since he had just given Jake another reason to irk you and follow you around tomorrow.

“So, why can’t he show you around?” You narrow your eyes.

Before Jake can answer, your dad interjects, “It’ll be better for you to do it, Y/n. I’m sure Sunghoon will have practice and other things tomorrow.”

The little shit was smiling way too hard, again. He just gets lucky too often.

The talk quickly turns into business amongst your parents, boring you completely so you use it as a perfect opportunity to excuse yourself to your room until your Mum says, “Why don’t you take Jaeyun to your room?”

Jake’s eyes grow as he smiles mischievously, “Yeah, you can show me what topics you have been covering in Physics. I don’t want to be behind.”

You take another deep breath, it got to the point where every breath now was slow and used to calm you down in order to stop you from lunging at the boy in front of you. He used every opportunity to get you to agree to yet another thing to help him with while your parents were around.

Jake followed you up to your room, standing at the doorway for a moment to look around your room at a different angle before stepping in and tracing his finger over all your trophies and pictures.

“Hey!” He calls, pointing at a particular picture of you with a trophy after winning the Science Fair competition. “We did this together, I’m in this photo. Did you crop me out?”

That day was quite fun, one of the only times that you and Jake had worked together rather than against one another, which was the usual dynamic. That occasion, your father had suggested for you two to work together. Even back then, it had created such dismay for you but you couldn’t deny that he was the reason why you two had won. You didn’t work well under pressured environments, so Jake had picked up the slack and presented most of it but you doubted that he did it for the sake of you. He definitely did it for the mere reason that he wanted to win.

You scoff at the pout on his lips as he picks up the frame, “Obviously. I’d get nightmares with a picture of you in my room.”

Jake touches the picture, a sigh of relief leaving his lips, “You didn’t cut it. You folded it.”

He dismantles the frame, unfolding the picture to reveal a younger version of him, “I was handsome back then, too. Keep it unfolded, you can use it for motivation.”

Fake gagging, you snatch the frame back from him and set it down, “I don’t need motivation. “So, how was Australia?”

Jake shrugs, playing with the Miffy plush that you cuddle to bed every night, “It was fun. Different from here. Better girls.”

You roll your eyes and respond sarcastically, “Sounds wonderful.”

“Jealous? Don’t worry, they didn’t compare to you,” Jake flirts.

“Ew!” Your face contorts in disgust. “Don’t make me throw you out of here, Jaeyun.”

He giggles and goes back to nosily touching all your things. You watch him in silence for a few more minutes, not minding Jake exploring your room. Jake’s parents call him from downstairs, initiating that it was time for him to finally leave.

“This new business deal means I’ll be seeing you more often than you’d like, angel.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his briefly upon hearing the pet name before he leaves the room. He’s staring at you, searching for a response in your facial expressions but all you can focus on is the luring brown specks in his eyes. The Australian air must have done a number on him; this was not the SIm Jaeyun you knew. Of course, he still used to go out of his way to annoy you before, but the excessive winking and flirting was so unlike him. It was only until you heard him call you ‘angel’ that you realised how different Jake was, now.

You returned down the stairs to bid them goodbye.

“Y/n,” Jake’s father calls. “Jake and I will be here tomorrow morning to pick you up for school. We must repay the favour.”

“What favour?” You question.

Jake’s mother strokes your arm lovingly, and you wonder how a woman so kind can produce that devil staring at you by the door, “We’re so thankful that you’re tutoring Jake every weekend!”

You raise an eyebrow and look at your parents, who suspiciously are avoiding your eyes, “It’s no problem. Is this why Mr Sim is picking me up tomorrow?”

They nod and hug you goodbye, constantly reminding you of their appreciation.

With one last annoyed look towards your parents, you turn on your feet and head up to your room for the night to scream into your pillow about the return of Sim Jaeyun.

୨ৎ

The next morning, at the table while you wait for Jake and his father, you see your own come down the stairs to get ready for his own job.

“Y/n, you and Jake have to go to school alone. Mr Sim sends his apologies, he has a meeting,” Your dad informs you.

You groan softly at the light knocks on the door, knowing it was Sim Jaeyun. “That must be him,” your dad smiles as he opens the door. “Hi, Jaeyun.”

“Good morning, Mr Lee. Is Y/n ready?” Jake asks as he steps into the house and meets your annoyed eyes. Slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking towards Jake, you say bye to your father and leave the house with him.

“Why did your dad want us to go to school so early?” You huff. Jake smiles down at you, “So we could go get breakfast.”

He flicks his dads bank card in between his fingers, “Wanted me to thank you for that tutor thing. Did you know about that, by the way?”

You shake your head, “Mum and Dad probably knew I would refuse. Did you?”

You look up at him and see he shakes his head, with a proud grin on his face, “Mum and Dad probably knew I would refuse, too.”

You stop and cross your arms at him, “Why would you refuse? I’m the top of the class, you should be honoured.”

Jake snickers, “You’re top of the class because I was in Australia for a year.”

He ruffles your hair before walking off, leaving you to curse at him under your breath.

With a croissant and a coffee in each of your hands, you walk through the school gates with Jake. As expected, all eyes are on him. Everyone knew him; you remembered the way everyone was heartbroken when he announced that he was leaving last year. Apart from you. You were busy bouncing off the walls to celebrate his departure as now, there was no debate about who the top physics student was. You knew it sounded condescending and extremely nerdy, but you worked hard for your grades; the title was deserved.

“I have to go to the principal's office,” Jake tells you.

“Go then,” You shrug. Jake tuts and drags you to the principal's office with him.

You fight off his grip on you, “I thought you didn’t know where anything was.”

Jake rolls his eyes, “Shut up and wait here. We have class together next, anyway.”

Just as you’re about to argue back, you realise that you do in fact have Physics next. Of course, he was in your class.

You sit and eat the breakfast that he bought you while you wait. Not long after, he exits the principal's office with a few books in his fingers.

“What are those?” You ask as you try to reach over and read them, only to have them held over your head and out of your reach.

“Don’t be so nosy,” Jake tuts. “Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”

You frown and follow him swiftly.

Jake opens the class door, and all eyes are set on him once again. Your Physics teacher calls him to the front while you rush to your seat at the back, away from all the gazes fixed on him.

Thanking God that your first lesson after the dreadful weekend was Physics was a waste since Jake was momentarily ordered to sit beside you.

“Is there a problem, Y/n?” Your teacher asks following your noises of protest.

You shake your head, not that it mattered to Jake who was already sitting in the seat beside you.

“Thankfully, I got placed next to my tutor. What would I do without you?” Jake drawls with a soft smile on his lips.

“Shut it, Sim,” you groan, snatching your things to your side of the table. “My side. Your side.”

Jake watches you pull out a thin ribbon and place it in the middle of the table.

Towards the end of the lesson, you’re assigned individual worksheet tasks that Jake gets done with smoothly. Unlike you, who is struggling slightly.

It’s not that the work is difficult to understand, but you’ve never been that close to Jake to see his hands. Despite your many attempts to focus on your work, your gaze is teared away from the Physics equations on your sheet and replaced with the sight of Jake’s hands only inches away from your own. In order to control your impulsive thoughts, you have to focus your full attention towards not touching his hands which is driving you absolutely insane.

Jake looks over his shoulder at your sheet, eyes widening slightly, “How are you still on the first question?”

Jolting slightly, you scramble to pick up your pen and mumble sometimes about getting distracted.

Jake bites his lip to prevent a giggle from escaping, “If you need help, you can ask me.”

“I don’t need your help,” You respond and commence with the work.

The bells to announce the end of the lesson go off soon after and you sigh in relief, packing your things instantly in order to get away from that nightmare sitting beside you.

Jake watches you pack up as if he was waiting to say something until Park Sunghoon and Jay Park run into the classroom.

“Jake!” Sunghoon smiles widely, Jay following shortly.

Jake grins, “I didn’t see you two this morning.”

“We had to meet up with the football (soccer) team before school. Join us after school today?” Jay asks.

Jake shakes his head, “Can’t. I have to study with my tutor.”

You dart your eyes over to him, “Not today.”

Sunghoon and Jay break out into fits of laughter.“No way, Y/n has to tutor you. That’s so unfortunate, Y/n,” Jay says to you, and you nod with a frown.

Jake furrows his eyebrows, “What’s so bad about tutoring me?”

“Dude, you don’t even need a tutor. Y/n, I’ve been asking you to tutor me for months now,” Sunghoon follows you around your desk.

“I didn’t have a choice!” You remark. “Our parents arranged it behind our backs.”

Sunghoon smiles, “What? Like an arranged marriage?”

“Ew!” You both said in unison.

Clearing your throat, you look at Jake again, “I’m not tutoring you today. They said weekends. “

You grab your bag and leave the room, rushing to find your best friends. Minji and Jieun are sitting at the usual bench near the football field, snacks laid in their laps as they discuss the precious lesson when you rush towards them.

Their attention immediately turns to you and Minji asks, “Y/n, is it true that Jake’s back?”

You huff and nod, “You’ll never believe it.” And, with that, you start filling them in on all the events that have occurred in far little time that you’d like.

They listen intently as you tell them every single detail since yesterday.

Jieun gasps, “How has this all happened in less than 24 hours?”

You shrug and steal a biscuit from her lap, “Honestly, I’m wondering the same thing. I didn’t even know he would be back 24 hours ago.”

Minji leans forward, “Shit, don’t look. Shit, shit, shit.”

Despite Minji’s request, Jieun turns her head with a car and gasps, too.

“What?” You ask, impatiently, wanting nothing more than to see what they were so intrigued about.

“Jake’s in a football shirt,” Jieun claps her hands together and you roll your eyes, although you turn your head ever so slightly to get a look. You don’t see Jake anywhere.

“Where?” You ask, now looking more closely.

Jieun and Minji giggle beside you and you close your eyes in anger after sudden realisation, “He’s not there, is he?”

“Nope,” Minji chuckles. You lightly shove her with your arm as she continues, “So, Y/n. A crush on Jake, huh?”

“Impossible!” you argue. “I was just looking because you guys were so shocked.”

You cross your arms and stuff your mouth with snacks as your friends stare at you in disbelief, “I do not like Sim Jaeyun.”

୨ৎ

Taking tests were usually anxiety inducing, but with your rival back, it was even worse than usual. Jake helped you separate the table into individual seats for the test, watching the way your fingers drummed on the table; a habit to get rid of the nerves.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you, angel,” He whispers, leaning so close to your ear that you can feel his breath fanning onto your cheek.

“Ugh,” You shove him away. “Are you trying to make me vomit before the test so I can miss it and fail?”

Jake sneers, “As if I need to do something like that. I’ll get higher than you regardless.

“We’ll see about that Aussie boy.”

Jake's eyebrows raise upon the new nickname, his eyes gleaming as he watches you take the test paper into your hand and write your name before starting it. Jake leans back in his chair, twirling his pencil in his fingers before he too starts the test.

The school bells go off, signalling both the end of the school day and the test.

Jake stands behind you as you hand in your paper and exit the classroom.

He taps your shoulder, “Did you finish all the questions?”

You nod, “Yeah, did you?”

“Yeah, but I don't think I did that well. I guess it's good that I’ve got myself a tutor, huh?” Jake giggles beside you.

You almost laugh, instead concealing it with a roll of your eyes, “Lucky you.”

“Be ready for one, tomorrow,” Jake ruffles your hair, earning a smack on the arm from you, which he fake winces at. “You coming to the football game next Monday?”

“No,” You guffaw and watch Jake slip his hands into his pockets.

“Hm, I thought you were. A little birdie told me you were,” Jake shoves his phone into your face, revealing messages from your mother telling him that you would go.

Angrily, you twist Jake’s ear and he yelps, “Ow??? What was that for?”

“Many reasons,” You cross your arms. “You messaged my mum to get me to go to your stupid football game! Why do you even have my mothers number?”

Jake rubs his now pink ear, “She told me to take it for the tutoring sessions since you said no to giving yours. Plus, is it so bad that you’re coming? Your friends are there every day.”

“Yeah, to see the boys they like,” You shrug.

“There’s no one you want to watch play?” Jake asks, slipping his hands back into his pockets.

“I have no interest in watching anyone play.”

Jake hums again, turning his face to the side before clearing his throat, “That’s because no one wants you to watch them.”

You glare at him, “Then, why did you ask my mother to force me to go?”

Scorning, Jake responds, “I didn’t force her. I just mentioned it and she said to make sure you go. Why would I want you there?”

At his words, you feel your heart gain a few bruises but you play it off, “I’m not going.”

“Shut up, Lee. I’ll pick you up at 5 on Monday. Games at 6,” With that, Jake walks off to join his friends. You grab your phone and message your group chat with your friends.

You: It looks like I'm attending my first school football game next week.

Minji: You wanna tell me this isn't because of the Sim boy?

Jieun: LMFAO FR.

You: Dude messaged my mother to get me to go.

Jieun: No fucking way

Minji: Yeah, so when's the wedding?

You: shut up, we don’t like each other.

Minji: 🙄

Jieun: keep telling yourself that. Want us to pick you up?

You: no… he’s picking me up

Minji: act surprised!

Jieun: Suit yourself, I am surprised!

Usually, the weekends are more than enjoyable; being that you can sleep in bed for a few hours longer than usual without feeling like you're rotting away as you’re still up before noon which automatically means you're being productive. This weekend was different; just like every day has been since Jake has arrived back.

This was now yet another time that he’s randomly been in your house as if he lives there, and waiting for you to join him.

“You’re late,” He says, taking a bite of an apple.

“I forgot,” You respond and sit down at the table with your textbooks.

Jake sits beside you, smiling at your pyjamas, “Why are all of them so childish?”

You frown, “They’re not childish. Anyway, focus!”

Tutoring Jake reveals to be harder than you thought. He either gets distracted every few minutes with an odd would you rather question that he needs to hear your response to or he’s bragging about how he doesn’t need these tutoring sessions, and could easily beat you in the upcoming exam.

Two hours fly by ever so slowly, and you’re silently thanking God that it’s over when the time comes.

Slamming your books shut, you spring to your feet with a wide smile plastered over your lips “Well, it’s been lovely but, that’s me done. Goodbye!”

Jake snickers as he watches you disappear up the stairs in a hurry, “See you on Monday!”

Monday flies by faster than you realise, you think as you sit in Physics next to Jake with your head resting in your palm. Monday was always such a mission to get through, but it didn’t help that you had a particularly late night.

“Tired?” Jake asks, sliding over your favourite bottled coffee. Your eyes light up upon seeing it as you accept it with a slightly enthusiastic nod.

“Extremely, staying up watching ‘Criminal Minds' is not a good idea,” You advise before taking a happy swig of the coffee.

Jake laughs, “Thanks for the warning. You’re coming to the game, by the way.”

You roll your eyes, “Is that why you got me a drink?”

Jake hums, “Why else would I do something nice for you?”

You scowl and hand him the coffee back, only for it to be slided back towards you with a disgusted expression on his, “I don’t want it! You already put your mouth on it.”

You sigh, and put it back in your bag, “Asshole.”

“Idiot,” He remarks.

You flick your eyes up and notice the teacher handing out the test papers from the last lesson, “We’ll see who the idiot is.”

The teacher places both yours and Jake's papers down with a smile.

You read the 97 on your paper, tilting it nervously to reveal to him as you wait for his mark.

“96,” He huffs, setting the paper down with a disappointed frown.

You clap your hands together with a wide grin, “I knew it! Sim Jaeyun, you fell off!”

You tease him consistently, singing celebrations in his ear as he places the paper in his bag, smiling at the 98 written on his sheet that he would much rather keep hidden for the sake of you singing gleefully beside him.

Jake swears he’s never seen you so happy; it's almost impossible to keep his smile under control as he watches you in slight fear that the adoration he has for you is emanating more than he would like.

୨ৎ

Your exciting plans to nap immediately after school were destroyed when you heard knocks on the door at exactly four minutes to five pm.

You answer softly, “Come in.”

Expecting one of your parents to walk in, you don’t bother to try and fix your hair or anything so when Jake walks in, you hurry to cover your snoopy pyjamas with your blanket, but judging by the way he snickers, you can tell he’s already seen it.

Jake stands in front of your wardrobe, “Say, Michael B Jordan came into your room and opened your wardrobe. Would there be anything you’d be too shy to show him?”

“No,” You reply, confused. Jake swinging your wardrobe doors open and grabbing a sweater before throwing it at you and walking out of the room was the last thing you had expected. Not to mention that he compared himself to Michael B Jordan, as if you’d care if he had seen your undergarments. Jake, however…

“Ten minutes!” He calls out before closing the door.

You sit in disbelief for a few moments before complying with his demands.

A few moments later, you walk out of the room and hear Jake and your father watching the football game.

“You’re here watching the game when you’re about to play anyway…” You stare at the two, dumfounded.

Jake tilts his head up at you as he gets up, “The game’s too good. Let’s go!”

He says goodbye to your parents and walks you to his car, “We’re kind of early, so you wanna eat something or eat after the game?”

“After the game?” You repeat slowly.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to run home as soon as the game begins,” Jake runs a hand through his hair.

You stifle a laugh, “I doubt I'd make it before half time.”

Jake laughs, “Alright, let's get going.”

Along the way, Jake plays some songs and you can't help but enjoy the atmosphere. Jake glances her eyes towards you from time to time, fighting the smile that creeps his way onto his face in response to yours.

He can't help but think of how beautiful you look, when you’re not even doing anything remotely significant.

“We’re here,” You say.

“Thanks, Sherlock,” Jake rolls his eyes and gets out of the car. As soon as you open the car door, he pushes you back inside and shuts it. You furrow your eyebrows at him standing by the passenger door.

Jake swiftly opens the car door for you, looking around as you leave the car although it's a struggle to move after a zoo of butterflies started swarming in your stomach from his actions.

“Thanks,” You rub at the nape of your neck as he mutters an ‘its alright’ to you.

The pair of you make your way across the football pitch, Jake greets people as he walks past them while you dodge dirty stares from jealous students. It almost makes you want to laugh; if only they knew how it really was.

To be quite honest, you weren’t sure if you knew either now that you thought about it.

Brushing your thoughts away, you sat down on one of the benches, “I’ll watch from here.”

Jake nods and slings his bag to put next to you, “You’ll watch this, right?”

“Yes,” You huff. “Anything else, kind sir?”

Jake throws his head back as he laughs, “No, madam.”

Before you can look away, Jake removes his top and replaces it with a football jersey. You know you shouldn't, but you can't help it - his abs were literally staring at you in plain sight, so you had to look back at them.

Of course, he notices you staring and tuts, “Didn’t strike me as a pervert, Y/n.”

You gasp, stammering, “You.. You didn't even warn me!”

“Relax, angel. I don’t mind,” He jogs backwards, sending you a few winks before printing off to the rest of his football members.

Just before the game starts, Minji and Jieun run over and join you, already screaming the names of whichever boy they were infatuated with at that current time.

The game proves to be far more interesting as expected and you end up not regretting letting yourself be dragged out of bed by Jake.

You watch intently as Jake dribbles the ball and shoots it directly in the goal. Your adrenaline must have taken over you, since the next thing you know, you’re jumping up and cheering. In the midst of Jake’s celebration around the pitch, he looks over at you with the widest smile he’s ever fathomed. Jieun and Minji share smirks from the side.

By half time, he separates from the rest of his team and runs directly to you.

You hand him a water bottle as he sits beside you, sweat droplets making his skin glow an extra bit.

“I didn’t expect you to cheer for me,” Jake says, smugly.

“I didn’t cheer for you. I cheered for the team,” You correct.

“I didn’t see you get up and cheer like that when Sunghoon scored,” Jake mutters under his breath.

You dart your eyes at him, “You’re lucky I didn’t hear that.”

Jake sits beside you, regaining his strength in the fifteen minute break while you look around at the other members, eyes fixated on one familiar member.

“Oh shit,” You turn around to Jieun and Minji, whose eyes follow your previous gaze and soon replicate your own shocked expression. Jake turns to the three of you, attempting to eavesdrop.

“Is that-”

“Don’t say the name,” You gesture to Jake sitting beside you.

“Woah, woah,” Jake stands up. “Whose name?”

“None of your business,” You snap. “Shouldn’t you go and, like, discuss team plays?”

Jake shakes his head, “Nah, this isn’t a serious game. It’s just a friendly. Who’s the guy?”

Jake nods his head at the guy you were looking at, fury slowly bubbling in his insides.

“He's a relative,” You lie.

“Bullshit,” Jake huffs. “I’ll find out after the game, anyway.”

The guy was Lee Minseok, and he was your first kiss at a party several months earlier. Being a kiss at a party, you don’t even remember it but your friends had informed you of it. He, too, had wanted to reconnect by messaging you on each and every one of your social media accounts for weeks after despite you saying you weren't looking for anything. You’d felt bad, but it was better to leave it as a drunken mistake than leading him on completely. It had also been a shame that he was your first ever kiss, but you were glad you didn’t remember it.

You look at Jieun and Minji again before sitting back down next to Jake, who doesn’t say another word. After a few minutes, he walks off to his members without saying anything. You feel slightly disappointed that he didn’t say one of his flirty remarks, but you don’t pay too much mind.

You continue watching the game, silently cheering whenever Jake scores or does anything remotely notable and you notice how his eyes always turn to you upon doing something well, but again, you don’t think much of it.

It’s only when you notice Minseok slytackling Jake, leading to Jake falling on his back. Soft gasps erupt from the crowd, a way of everyone agreeing that it was far too harsh of a movement. Minseok holds his hand out to apologise, only to be rejected by Jake smacking his hand away and pushing him by the shoulders. It becomes a small brawl, Jay and Sunghoon having to pull Jake away and to the changing rooms. You watch Jake strut over to the changing rooms, a look of rage crossed over his face.

The next thirty minutes of the game go by painfully slow; all you wanted was to know if Jake was alright.

Despite Jieun and Minji’s attempts at trying to get you to go home with them, you wait for Jake, just to find out if he's okay.

It gets dark when you spot Jake walking on the other side of the football field and you call him over, “Jake!”

He turns around and looks at you with a slightly bewildered expression, but waits for you nonetheless.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I’m fine,” He mumbles. “Did you ask Minseok if he was, too?”

It was your turn to look at him bewilderedly, “No, I couldn’t care less if he was injured.”

Jake’s lips almost curl into a smile. Almost, if he didn’t hear Sunghoons words replaying in his head. Minseok was your first kiss - he stole your first kiss. The feeling of rage bubbled in Jake’s insides again.

“Anyway, I waited because you promised to get me food,” You grin.

Jake looks away, “I can’t. Dad needs help at home.”

“Oh,” You whisper. “Okay, but you owe me another day.”

Jake nods in agreement, and you wait for that familiar smile to return on his face, but it doesn’t.

“I’m going to get going,” You say.

Again, you wait for him to say something, like offer to drop you off home. But, nothing.

You feel like a fool as you walk away from him, his figure growing smaller and smaller behind you with every step.

The next few days are all similar, there are times where you expect Jake to say something to you around the halls or in Physics, but he doesn’t. You don’t even see him around the house anymore, despite his family being there and them saying that he was busy catching up with schoolwork. That was definitely a lie, you knew him.

Mr Sim calls you to sit with them, smiling at you politely.

“Thank you for tutoring Jaeyun. His grades slipped a bit in Australia but, thanks to you, they’re back to normal,” He grins. “I hope there’s no hard feelings, though.”

“Of course, not. Why would there be?” You return his politeness.

Mr Sim sighs in ease, “Oh, I thought you would be since Jaeyun got 98 on the recent test. Although, it was only a marks difference. You’re seriously wonderful-”

The rest of his words tune out, the only thing you hear is that Jake got higher than you in the test but he lied. Why did he lie?

୨ৎ

Deciding to head over to his house with the lie that you needed to give him some school work was merely impulsive, it was far too late when you realised at his doorstep. You’d spent the last few days laying in the darkness of your room, wondering why he has suddenly switched off his typically playful manner to a foreign, nonchalant version of himself. You even cried to Jieun and Minji about it, who cursed him repeatedly.

Jake opens the door in Spongebob pyjamas to which you cock an eyebrow at, “And you called mine childish.”

“What are you doing here?” Jake asks, helping you into his house. “Do you want something to drink or eat?”

You shake your head and he leans on the wall in front of you as you take a seat.

“So,” Jake stares at you. “What are you doing here?”

You take a long and slow breath, “Why did you lie about your mark in the recent exam?”

Jake steps forward slightly, “How did you-”

You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter. Why did you lie?”

Jake exhales, “I knew it would make you happy.”

You scoff, getting to your feet, “Why on earth do you care if I’m happy?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jake grits his teeth.

“You hate me. You’ve been avoiding me for days, now,” You breathe out.

Jake stares at you blankly, before breaking out into a fit of laughter, “Hate you?”

He inches closer to you until hes standing directly in front of you, “Y/n, I came back here for you.”

“What are you talking about?” You chuckle. “You came back because our parents-”

“No,” Jake interjects. “You think I didn’t beg my father to take that deal? You think my dad doesn’t know how in love with you I am? Y/n, everyone knows but you!”

You shake your head, “This isn’t true.”

“Look, if you don’t like me back, just say so. But, don’t come here and start spewing nonsense. I’ve liked you since that day that we won the Science Fair together. I’ve been in love with you since I left for Australia.”

You look up at him, “No way.”

Jake rolls his eyes and takes your hand, pulling you to his bedroom. He sits you down in his bed while he reaches into a drawer and pulls out a large box.

Jake removes the lid and brings out multiple items that you recognise and some that you don’t.

“This is my Y/n box,” he places it onto your lap. “Have a look.”

Jake holds a few items in his hand, “This is the bracelet I won at a Physics competition in Australia at the beginning. I planned to give it to you. This is a teddy I won at some amusement park. And, this is a letter I wrote on the plane when I realised that I was in love with you. Well, am in love with you.”

Jake continues, “Even my grades, Y/n. They were nothing without you. It’s like you were my only source of motivation, my grades were average towards the end of the year in Australia. My parents and my teachers all blamed it on the move, but I knew. I knew it was because you weren’t there.”

You’re speechless, he kept everything remotely linked to you since you were thirteen. He thought of you in every little thing he did.

“You love me?” You question.

“Yes, Y/n. I’ve been in love with you.”

“But,” You breathe out. “I’m hard to love.”

Your voice is strained, and isn’t far from a whisper. There’s so many things you want to say yet so little words to conform them to the perfect boy sitting in front of you.

He almost guffaws at your words - Jake might have if he didn’t realise just how serious you were. He didn’t understand; what on earth was so hard about loving you? There was nothing.

If only you could see just how effortless it had been, straight from the beginning. The minute he laid eyes on you standing by a handmade rocket, scribbling ideas down on a piece of paper, it was as if the atoms in the universe had created an inseparable bond that tied you two together. It was as if the poles in the universe had drawn together, creating a magnetic field of attraction.

Jake’s eyes twinkle as he leans closer to you, “There is nothing hard about loving you. Loving you is like breathing out oxygen, so if loving you is hard then breathing is, too.”

You flick your eyes up at him again, now only centimetres away from those pink plush lips of his until you close the gap, pulling him into a soft kiss.

“I love you, too, “ You breathe out.

“Really?” Jake gasps. “You’re not just saying that?”

You shake your head, intertwining your fingers, “No, seriously. I do, I didn’t know I did but now.. Now, I know. I came here because you were avoiding me the whole week and I couldn’t bear it.”

Jake giggles, “That’s because I didn’t think you liked me back after that whole situation with Minseok at the football game. I thought it would be better to just leave you alone.”

Jake gently intertwines his fingers with you, a casual action albeit causing your heart to race a million miles per hour.

“So,” he beams, “if you get higher than me in the next Physics exam, I’ll take you out on a date.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, a grin paired on your lips, “And, what if I don’t?”

Jake looks away, thinking for a moment, “Then, you take me on a date.”

“Well, can I give you a kiss first?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him as if he’s ever going to decline that offer

“You don’t need to ask twice,” Jake breathes out, before meeting your lips with a wide grin plastered on his face.

୨ৎ

Seeing Jake knock on your window from outside your house was quite a shock for you, being it was a Sunday evening and you were sorting out your school bag for the next day.

You open your window to let him in with a befuddled expression worn on your face, “What are you doing here? It’s almost 6:30.”

A soft smile is on his lips as he looks at you, and climbs through your window, “I had to see you. Its been so long.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, “I saw you on Friday.”

“That’s far too long, angel.”

You smile as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you in for a warm embrace, he hums as he closes his eyes and rocks your body with his from side to side.

“Why didn’t you use the front door?” You ask him.

Jake nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I’m scared of your father.”

You laugh at his words, “You’ve known the man for years! What’s there to be afraid of?”

He sits down on your bed, playing with your teddy bears, “Well, he’s different with me now that I’m.. dating his daughter.”

“He’s a bit shocked but he’ll get used to it. You can’t expect him to like you if he finds out you’ve been sneaking in through my window, though,” You pinch Jake’s cheek softly.

Jake nods, “I know.” Jake sighs and leans into your touch against his cheek.

“Why don’t you try going back through the front door? You can ask my parents for permission to grab dinner outside, today,” You suggest, pulling his hands up.

You watch Jake’s eyes glint in excitement as he heads back out of the window. Yet, he doesn’t forget to turn around to press a quick kiss on your cheek before he leaves, only to return to be in your house in less than a minute.

Hearing the doorbell ring, you make your way downstairs while fighting the urge to grin upon knowing exactly who was at your door.

You watch your father open the door, seeing Jake, “Hi Jake, what brings you here?”

Jake stammers, “Hello, sir. I mean, Mr Lee… I came to see Y/n.”

You stand beside your father, “Dad, you haven’t even let him in.”

Pulling Jake inside, you frown at your Dad as your Mum joins the three of you.

“Honey, why are you so awkward around Jaeyun now? Weren’t you the one who always wanted him as a son?” Your mum chuckles.

“I didn’t think he would become a son like.. this,” Your dad darts his eyes towards you and Jake. “So, is the relationship going well?”

You struggle to not break out into a fit of laughter, “Yes, Dad. Thanks for your concern. Jake and I are going to get some ice cream.”

Your Mum nods happily while your father sighs and sits back. Jake bows his head politely and leaves with you.

“I hate the awkwardness,” Jake whines and you laugh, intertwining your fingers with his.

“He’ll get used to it!” You boop Jake’s nose sweetly.

Walking alongside Jake with your fingers wrapped tightly in his own, the crisp autumn air hitting against your cheeks and the streetlights illuminating the sky; you can’t help but feel a sense of longing towards the moment. It just felt right.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jake breaks the silence, tilting his head towards you. “Actually.. No, no. You’re going to make fun of me.”

Jake hides his face in his hoodie, but you can still see the redness in his cheeks.

“What?” You laugh, prying his face out of his hoodie. “Tell me!”

Jake sighs, “I used to think we were alike but I don’t think we are. So, I guess we’re kinda like magnets.”

“You’ve called me a lot of things, Sim Jaeyun, but never have you called me a magnet.”

Jake sighs with a smile on his face, “Not like that! I just meant, we’re not as alike as we think. Kinda like a magnet, but they work out fine. If anything, there’s literal forces of attraction pulling them together. Isn’t that so cool?”

You chortle, “Yes, Jake. That’s very cool. I love being your magnet.”

Jake presses a kiss to your lips, “Stop making fun of me.”

“Stop being a nerd,” You retort.

“Says the one who got 100% in the last quiz!”“Don’t be jealous, Sim. You’ll get on my level someday.”

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dirtyvulture · 6 months

Text

Ceremony

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Sergeant!Reader

18+ only read at your own risk

Summary: You get some (very nice) awards for your actions during Operation: Avalanche.

Word count: 1834

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

This is Part 4 of my Sergeant Beef AU, following the events of this fic.

“Why is all of this necessary?” you whine, pulling at your stiff collar. Natasha slaps your hand down as she fixes the medals and ribbons on your chest.

“This is what you get for almost getting yourself killed,” she replies, although there is no malice in her tone. “Don’t worry. We can go back to my place afterwards and–”

“Finally,” you interrupt with a grin.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she chastises again, although you know she’s just as excited as you are to be back on your home turf for the first time in months.

“How do I look? Would I pass your inspection this time?” you ask as she backs away from you, surveying you up and down. You’re leaning on one crutch still, but you’re glad that you don’t have to use a wheelchair anymore.

“You look fantastic,” Natasha says, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

She walks at your pace as you hobble out of the parking lot, joining the large group of people gathered on the lawn of the park. Most of them you hadn’t seen since before your deployment, which at this point feels years ago. Your entire team is here too, all of them crowding around you for hugs and handshakes. There’s too many things to be said but no privacy to say them in, so you promise that you’ll give them your time once you return to the base. Men and women with more medals and ribbons than you can count come over to thank you and wish you well. It feels odd being the center of attention and you’re not really sure you like it.

Peter Parker brought along his Aunt May and she gives you a hug that almost lifts you off the ground. She cries into your shoulder while thanking you for not leaving her nephew behind and you unexpectedly get a little choked up yourself.

There’s also a camera crew from the local news station that asks you to sit down for a brief interview. You see Natasha watching you from behind the camera, a mixture of pride and worry on her face for you. She knows this event is emotionally and mentally draining for you, but she can’t be happier to be here celebrating your achievements with you.

After the interview, you sit with her in the front row, you on the aisle side because you need space for your crutch. General Fury goes up to the stage and gives the opening speech.

You zone out, hearing your name said a few times, but you don’t really care. Natasha nudges your knee with hers and you look up at her. She smiles bracingly which you return half-heartedly.

“I would now like to welcome Sergeant Y/N to the stage,” Fury says, as everyone erupts into applause. You grab your crutch and Natasha stands with you. Slowly, you limp to the steps of the stage, Natasha hovering behind you carefully. You hop up each step, your face hot as you feel all eyes on you and you pray that you don’t accidentally trip in front of them. “Sergeant Y/N,” Fury says as you approach him. He is mindful to offer you his left hand so you can leave your right one holding onto your crutch.

“It is with great honor that I present to you today the Purple Heart Award and the Distinguished Service Cross, for your bravery and actions during Operation: Avalanche. You did not hesitate to put yourself in certain danger to ensure your team’s safety, and because of your sacrifice, all six members of your team are here today. Thank you for your service and dedication to protecting this country, Sergeant Y/N.”

The applause sounds louder up here than your seat, and you stand tall as Fury pins your two new awards to your chest. Natasha is standing, probably clapping louder than anyone else, and her reaction makes you feel happier than the two awards you’ve just been given.

“Thank you, General,” you say, saluting him with a tight voice.

“Don’t thank me, Sergeant Y/N. I didn’t even write the speech,” he teases, standing next to you and posing for some pictures.

***********************************************************************

After the ceremony, you skip your own after party to go home with Natasha. You give everyone the excuse that you’re tired, which isn’t technically a lie, but now you just want to spend time with Natasha. She brings you to her apartment, which is bigger and nicer than yours, but you don’t even have a second to revel in its familiarity when she pushes you into the bedroom.

She helps unbutton your shirt, being very mindful of your new awards, taking it over to her closet to properly hang up. You can’t help but smile at how respectful she is when it's normally a desperate frenzy to get you undressed. You toss your crutch onto the floor, leaning most of your weight on your left leg while trying to simultaneously unbuckle your belt and take off your pants without falling over.

By the time she comes over to you, she’s already naked herself and you can’t help but moan when she presses against you, skin-to-skin. She wraps her strong arms around your waist, helping keep you upright, leaning up to kiss you. You can tell she’s trying to be gentle with you, but you can feel her passion with the way her hands possessively run up your sides, skating carefully over the new, large scar along your ribs. Her nails dig into your back muscles to press you against her harder.

“Nat,” you whisper when you start to feel your right leg shaking. You know you lost some muscle mass and definition being cooped up in a hospital bed for months, but Natasha doesn't seem to mind. You're also embarrassed that you can’t stay standing for long, but Natasha pulls away to take your hand and lead you to the bed. You limp after her, immediately dropping to your knees on the mattress as she lays down in front of you.

“I really want you, Y/N,” she says, practically devouring you with her eyes alone. “But if you’re not up to it, I can wait.”

“I want you too, Nat. So much,” you reply, starting to jerk yourself off to hardness. It’s been months since you’ve had an opportunity to have her like this; as often as her visits to your room in the hospital were, you weren’t well enough to engage in her favorite activity the way you used to. It had been hard on both of you to have to wait, and part of you was nervous that you wouldn’t last that long or didn’t remember how to please her.

“Okay. How do you want me?” Natasha asks, and it’s unusual for her to let you decide. But she seems to understand the importance of going at your pace and doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

“Uh…on your knees?” you suggest, not even sure what you’ll be able to handle. As long as the movement was minimal, you figure you’d be okay.

“Okay.” Natasha kisses you again before turning to face away from you, presenting her perfect backside. Instinctively you grab onto it, shuffling forward until your cock bumps against her butt. You’re already throbbing at her touch but you want to make sure she’s near the same level as you.

You bend forward, your side protesting a little at the movement, but you push through, slipping your arm around her waist to drag your fingers through her folds. Natasha puts her hand on your wrist to guide you better, and you start panting in anticipation when you feel how wet she is.

You dip your fingers into her while circling her clit and her body stiffens underneath you. You’re just glad you’re doing something right as she ruts back against you with a whine, guiding you to move faster and deeper.

“Fuck, I think I’m already going to cum,” Natasha admits, tightening around your fingers. She forces you to stop moving so you wait for her next instruction. It makes you feel a little bit better that you’re not the only one with decreased stamina. “Are you ready, babe?” she asks. “I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, looking down at your hard cock that’s standing almost at a 90-degree angle.

“Okay. Fuck me good, Y/N.”

Her words turn you feral almost instantly and you steady yourself by holding onto her waist with both hands, maybe a little harder than you intend because you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to keep yourself upright, even in this kneeling position. The tip of your cock brushes against her hot center and this time, you don’t wait for further permission to enter her. You push in, her tight heat surrounding you, and you have to bite your lip to remind yourself not to cum immediately.

“Fuck, Nat,” you grunt, afraid to move while you adjust to how perfectly she stretches around you. Your cock twitches when she pulls you in deeper and you finally move your hips in time with hers, although a little more slowly than you would have liked.

You moan like you haven’t been fucked in months, which is technically true, and Natasha pulses harder around you when she hears your reaction to her. She pushes back against your abs with some force, a little afraid that she’ll knock you over, but she’s so desperate to be filled by you. Her toys, her hands, and even yours would never compare to your cock.

The bedroom quickly fills with the slick noises of your cock sliding in and out of her pussy. The pain in your side and thigh starts to become noticeable even with the numbing pleasure between your legs, and you realize you have to finish soon or you won’t get to at all.

“Nat, I…I need to cum,” you beg, hoping she’s at her peak too.

“Let go, babe,” Natasha says, curling her hands into the blankets and lifting her hips higher so you can piston against the sensitive spot inside of her. It takes a few more strokes that almost have you seeing stars before you unload, arching forward to bury yourself to the hilt as you pump out your seed in a few hard bursts. The pressure of being filled is enough to send Natasha over the edge, her cum dripping onto your cock as you pull out and collapse next to her on the bed, your chest heaving and sweat collecting around your neck.

Natasha reaches out to you, wrapping herself around your body like a koala bear. Although she would love to go another round with you, she can tell you’re too exhausted and doesn’t want to push you. So as you slowly drift off to sleep, Natasha whispers in your ear how much she loves you and how she’ll never take you for granted again.

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

AN: And things are basically back to normal for these two! :)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

nba player! connie and model! reader eye fucking each other on the court, then really fucking each other after the game 🤭

omg new hyperfixation just dropped!! 🥴🥴 I got you!

cw: black fem reader (thick descriptors)hotel/balcony sex, implied oral, backshots, squirting, cumshot

Connie Springer: it was a name that was practically inescapable nowadays. Whether it was for his impeccable skills and stats on the court or his devilishly handsome looks off of it. The NBA’s hottest new rising star; a generational talent that had captured the attention of many, including (y/n) (l/n), who had become somewhat of a prominent figure in the fashion and modeling world over the past few years.

A woman who was as bodacious as you were beautiful, turned heads with every room you walked in. Like a goddess traipsing amongst men..you were an absolute vision of perfection. The same sentiment was mirrored when you stepped foot into the arena for the playoffs game tonight. Telfar in hand, Giuseppe heels on your feet and a Marine Serre bodysuit that practically clung to your curvaceous figure. Sitting court side as many other infamous celebs had done before, (y/n) observed the activities up and down the court, watching the players run drills and get prepared before the game began..even occasionally stealing glances at the camera. It was while you were doing so that you’d catch the attention of number 21, the fine ass point guard with the butter pecan complexion, two sleeves of tattoos trailing down his arms and diamond earrings reminiscent of early Iverson’s. What you wouldn’t give to have something like that on your own roster..but you weren’t alone in your dirty little train of thought. The way that ass was moving when you walked by? He damn near lost all focus and control. Admittedly, he had seen you on Instagram and Twitter a couple times, wanting to hop in your DM’s but figured they’d probably go unanswered as you probably had a laundry list of men chomping at the bit to get with you..still, it wouldn’t stop him from shooting his shot in person!..no pun intended. So the game would kickoff as any other had in the past. Connie is to no one’s surprise, stealing the spotlight like he owns it. Playing his ass off, doing all of his award winning antics and scoring mad points for his team. Everyone was so impressed and (y/n) was no exception..the entire time though? His attention was on you…stealing glances at one another through sultry glares. You couldn’t help but ogle that sweat sheened body and he couldn’t help but do the same. When it came time for intermission, you tried your hardest to look inconspicuous but when he sat down, towel draped around his neck as he squeezed that water bottle and let the fluid squirt into his open mouth..you had to clutch your thighs together immediately! You had never felt something like this…it didn’t help when his gaze shot towards you seconds after. It was getting more than obvious that the two of you had your own side game going on outside of the one taking place. Fluttering those big fluffy lashes..(y/n) kept a keen eye on him for the second half, even tossing him a wink or two when he made a basket. Just for that, he had to flex a little bit! Springer was playing like someone had lit a fire underneath him, pulling out every stop he thought would impress the one he had his sights set on. Up and down the court, tossing free throws as if it were child’s play..shooting you a very confident smirk each time he did so. Tucking your lip between your teeth, your deep set eyes fixated on him until the end of the game. If he didn’t come over and say something, you’d surely be making your way in his direction to break the ice. Little did you know a simple hello and some constant eye contact would be the start of a very interesting night.

it would only take a few hours and five shots of Hennessy at an after party for you to find the courage you needed to turn that subtle silent flirting into a fury of passion. “I’m Connie. I seen you out there…thought I’d come see what was up wit’ you.” And the second he did so, it was lust at first sight. So it came as no surprise when he invited you up to his room, sat you on his bed and started spitting game, that your clothes would wind up twisted in a pile on the ground, shoes discarded at the door and you two fucking like animals on the fourth floor balcony of the DoubleTree hotel. It wasn’t something you’d normally done. An esteemed model hooking up with a star baller in some illustrious one might stand? Oh, the tabloids would be going crazy off of this. But for now, he’d just keep you bent over; leg hoisted over that railing as his balls slapped vehemently against your clit. His tattooed hand cradling your throat with a vice grip as your tongue dangled from your mouth. “Ooh fuck!…this dick feels so good..” crying out into the night air as this man…this complete and total stranger outside of his namesake brought you to yet another climax. “Ah…damn baby, I ain’t never had a squirter before..this pussy some pressure..shit.” Having started this steamy little affair in between the sheets where he looked you dead in your eyes, chain dangling above your forehead as he fucked you slowly. A hand on the headboard and your thick, trembling legs laid across his shoulders. Creaming and making an absolute mess of his cock…shortly after finding yourself riding him atop the suede carpet so that you could keep your balance and bounce on his dick the way you really wanted to. In a way that would have him flying you out to every city he played in. To now being hit from the back atop a balcony for potential passerby’s to see. However, his only focus was you and vice versa. Turning to look back at him, you’d flick your tongue and grin. “That’s because you’ve never fucked somebody like me…” and after this? he didn’t think he could ever mess with anyone else the same.

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senditcolton · 6 months

Text

If You Want It Done

summary: after a disappointing playoff loss, brady reappears on your doorstep eight months after he ended things. and he has nothing on his mind but taking out his frustrations by having you desperate and keening for him once again. however, you aren't about to submit without a fight.

song inspo: NFWB by Hozier & Rats by Motionless in White word count: 5.1k warnings: feminine reader. smut! hair pulling, fingering, unprotected penetration, spanking, slight choking, oral (m receiving), and - as always - a healthy amount of dirty talk. plus somewhat toxic and insanely cocky brady.

a/n: no tricks here. just a sweet treat in the form of long- awaited Brady Skjei smut. technically it's a continuation of this blurb, but i just combined the original and the addition into one fic for you all. enjoy and happy halloween.

Sadness. Humiliation. Shame.

Those should be the emotions running through Brady as the plane lands back in Carolina after Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals. Because he wasn’t back ready to fight for another win. He was here to pack his bags and go home.

The best team in the Metro. Swept. By a wild card team who barely made the playoffs.

It was a disaster, an embarrassment. And Brady should feel the heavy weight of that failure, even if he might only be responsible for one-nineteenth of the blame. Or, at least, he should feel the waves of sadness crashing over him about the way it ended, or the mere fact that it did end.

But he didn’t. Perhaps he had earlier, when that final buzzer sounded and the fans in South Florida cheered. But now, having sat with those feelings for the better part of 24 hours, he was no longer sad.

He was angry.

And so, when the wheels touched down in Raleigh and he collected his car, he didn’t drive home.

Instead, he drove to yours.

A tired sigh leaves you as you pull up to your quaint cottage-style home. A long work week was cause for an even longer relaxing weekend and you were ready to start that weekend by getting inside and having a long nap. Or a strong drink. Or perhaps both.

However, after hopping out of your car and wandering up the small path that leads to your front door, your plans placed on a momentary hold when you see someone leaning against your siding, their baseball cap pulled low.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you call out, ready for this stranger to flash you an award-winning smile and tell you all about how their company could save you money on roofing repairs after last week’s storm.

But when their head lifts, you stop in your tracks as you recognize the face staring back at you.

Hell, you used to wake up to it every morning for eight months. Until he ended things.

“Brady.”

His name falls from your mouth in complete practiced apathy. You didn’t need him to know how much time you spent crying over him in the last month. You especially didn’t need him to know how your heart still skipped a beat when his eyes connected to yours.

“Did you see the game?” he asks.

“I heard.”

“And?”

“And what? Do you want to cry for you?”

There’s a humorless chuckle that comes from Brady as his head falls before he takes a step towards you.

“You always knew how to make me feel better,” he says, the sarcasm lacing his voice. And when you hear it, that dry scathing tone, you realize that you didn’t recognize the man in front of you.

Brady was always soft, gentle, welcoming. It made the dichotomy between you even more obvious; you all sharp edges and harsh words and burning fire. It was part of the reason the two of you broke up.

But this Brady… there was something different. Something dangerous. it intrigued you. But not enough for you to give in.

“I’m not going to coddle you, Brady. You should know that by now.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“What do you want then?” you ask, finally taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between you and your front door. “You want my pity? You want me to say ‘poor you, poor Brady’?”

It’s your turn to let a scoff fall from your lips as you reach into your bag for your keys, Brady now behind you.

“If you wanted someone to feel sorry for you, you came to the wrong fucking house,” you explain, unlocking the door.

Before you can even reach the handle, you feel Brady step forward, his hands falling on your hips as his body crowds you into the smooth wood. You attempt to take a deep breath to calm your heart but it doesn’t help because when you breathe in, your senses are filled with the smell of his cologne. A smell so familiar. One you missed.

Brady moves closer, his body almost pinning you to the door and you can’t stop your knees from trembling as you feel the heat of him behind you.

“I came here because I missed you,” he whispers into your ear.

“And it took you getting your ass kicked to realize that?” you shoot back. Although, the waver in your voice betrays you, revealing how much your body was responding to him; his touch, his words, his warmth. Brady just lets his previous sentence continue, as if he didn’t even hear you.

“And because I know you missed me just as much.”

You couldn’t let him do this – let him come crawling back to you when he was broken or bored. You no longer belonged to him. It was a recipe for disaster.

“I think you’ve forgotten that I’m not one of those girls that would fall on their knees for you.”

“You seemed to enjoy being on your knees for me when we were together.”

“And we’re not together anymore. So, find someone else to fuck your frustrations out on.”

“Is that what you did?”

“None of your business.”

You feel his grip on your hips tighten and you barely have time to react as he effortlessly spins your body until your back is pressed against the wood of the door, your eyes now looking up at him.

“You’re lying.”

Brady almost spits out the words, as if even the barest suggestion that what you said was true was poison to him. Your eyes follow the movement in his temple, the clenching of his jaw, the storm in his eyes. This wasn’t the side of Brady that you knew.

But it was a side that you were always curious to discover. Throughout those eight months, you wanted to know if Brady had that same fire hiding within him – a passion and intensity that could match yours. And now, you could finally see it peeking through.

You wanted it to come out completely.

“And you can tell?” you ask, wielding your words with edge and precision. “Does that make you feel worse? If I told you about all the other men that ended up in my bed?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t? Are you sure? You knew what you giving up when you left. Can’t blame me for moving on.”

“You wouldn’t,” Brady repeats, one hand falling away and you barely have time to comprehend where it had gone when you feel the steady weight of the door fall away from you.

Your body lurches back, the momentum pulling you until it is abruptly stopped by Brady’s strong arms, pulling you close and lifting you over the threshold. Your feet find the hardwood of your floors before Brady is spinning you again and you find yourself pressed against the door once more, this time inside your house instead of without.

“You wouldn’t,” he reiterates, “because no one could make you feel as good as I did.”

You hear the deadbolt click, the sound causing the heat pool in your stomach. Brady’s hand moves back to your hip, pulling you close again as he leans in until your lips are barely touching. It’s intoxicating, having him this close to you once again. You are about to surge forward, connect your lips to his, let your fire burn with his. Until Brady speaks again.

“No one could make you feel as good as I’m about to.”

That statement pulls all rationality from you and you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you, crashing your lips onto his. Brady returns the kiss with as much intensity, his hands gripping you tighter while yours move to trace over his arms, his broad shoulders before tangling into that salt-and-pepper hair. The kiss is frantic, all teeth and tongues and it takes a moment before Brady finally pulls away, connecting those brown eyes to your own

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You always will be.”

The words cut right through you; as a threat or a promise, you weren’t really sure. But the instant that Brady crashes his lips back into yours, you find that you don’t care.

God, you missed this. You would be lying if you didn’t spend many restless nights reminiscing on how his hands felt on your body. How his lips felt on your skin.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. The words would never leave your mouth, not while Brady is standing in front of you. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. At least, not yet.

Instead, you get lost in Brady’s kisses, your hands coming to tangle deeper in his hair, pulling him closer to you as your hips roll up to meet his. You think you can hear a dark chuckle rumble from Brady and vibrate directly into your body, sending sparks of electricity flowing through you. His hands roam across your body, up from your hips to the soft material of your blouse before landing on your breasts, giving them a squeeze, causing your head to fall back.

“Missed these perfect tits,” he mumbles, his movements against your chest continuing in response to the soft moan falling from your mouth. Your moan turns into a sharp gasp as Brady grips the center of your shirt and tears it open. The sound of the buttons scattering across the hardwood floor floods your ears and it inexplicably turns you on even more.

If this was any other man, you would be pissed off at him for ruining your one of your favorite shirts. But this was Brady. A new Brady.

In those eight months you were with him, he was nothing but a gentleman, both outside and inside the bedroom. And he was more than satisfactory. But you knew there had to be something underneath all that charm. An untamed animal just waiting to be unchained.

And if this was the key to its cage, you weren’t about to stop everything to cry over a few buttons. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain at all.

“You’re buying me a new shirt,” you mutter against Brady’s lips. Brady swiftly removes his mouth from yours as he looks down at your newly exposed bra.

“Gonna buy you something new to wear under it,” comes his response as his thumbs trace over the edge of the plain nude material and this time, you can stop your eyes from rolling in annoyance.

“Do you really think I wear lingerie to work?” you quip, staring up at him.

You can see his eyes harden and it is in that moment that you realize he was enjoying this. The chase, the tease, the dare, the push and pull between the two of you.

“If you don’t like it,” you continue, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you continue to meet his dark brown eyes, “then take it off.”

The quick sparkle that appears in his brown eyes makes you think that he has taken the bait, that you might have gained some control over the situation at hand – a situation that you were wholly unprepared for but welcomed none the less. And when Brady leans back in to lock you lips together once again, his hands wandering around your ribcage towards your back, the confidence grows.

However, it takes a sharp plummet when you feel his hands drop from your frame. If Brady had given you a split second longer, you would have broken the kiss to question or quip him again. But you have barely any time to miss the sensation of his hands on your skin before you feel them grip the back of your thighs as Brady uses his athletic strength to effortlessly lift you off the floor.

You gasp, a gasp that Brady gladly swallows before he spins, tearing his lips away from yours to look around your house. There is a part of you that wants to tell him nothing has changed from the last time he was there – the furniture is the same, your bedroom is still two doors down on the left – but your lips have already busied themselves marking the smooth skin on his neck.

There was also a power in your decisions; forcing him to find his way through your space all while doing your best to distract him. And it seems to be working as you feel Brady’s pulse shudder underneath your mouth.

You feel him take a lurching turn right and a slight flash of confusion runs through you until you feel his body lowering. The soft material of your couch hits your knees and the skirt you had on flows out around you as you now straddle Brady.

“Forgot where the bedroom was?” you chirp into his neck, feeling his desperate hands return to your torso as he removes the tattered remains of your blouse from your waistband.

It seems that it takes a minute for your words to register but when they do, Brady’s hand lifts to tangle in your hair. Another gasp escapes from your chest as his fingers tighten before pulling your head away from his neck. He quickly reverses the roles, his own lips moving to your newly exposed throat, your breath transforming from gasps to soft sighs as his mouth works against your skin.

“Who says I’m not going to take you there after I’m done here?”

“Who says I would let you back into my bed anyway?” you retort to keep some semblance of control.

Your pathetic attempt is clearly read by Brady, who makes you falter once again as the hand not tangled in your hair effortlessly unclasps your bra. His lips depart from your neck as he helps slide the material down your arms, throwing it carelessly somewhere in the room. You both hate and love the smirk that appears on his face as he takes in your heaving chest, your pebbled nipples. His dark eyes dart back up to you briefly before he is tugging you into him for another animalistic kiss.

“Seems that you like it so far,” he whispers into your open mouth before he pulls away again, lifting your body upright and pulling you closer. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wish that you could say something back, something to knock his arrogant confidence down a peg but your mind goes blank as his lips move to your collarbone, leaving faint hickeys against the taut skin before moving down to your chest. His lips close around one of your nipples, tongue moving to tease the sensitive peak as his hands rest on your ribcage, his thumbs running across the delicate skin on the underside of your breasts. Your hands fly to the back of his head, keeping him close and you can feel his lips curl against your skin. The action both turns you on and pisses you off, a combination that you weren’t sure could even work until now.

You fly into action, hands moving down to grip the fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, tugging at the material and pulling it upward before he finally breaks away to help you remove the shirt entirely, tossing it away to join your clothes on the living room floor.

His lips return to your chest, moving to leave no skin unmarred with his love bites as your hands drop to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle in silent encouragement. Brady’s hands lower before coming to grip your ass and you gasp as he pulls you forward, the action causing your hips to roll. You both let out moans at the sensation of you grinding against him and it turns you on more to feel his erection against your core.

“And here I thought I was the masochist,” you joke, moving your hips of your own volition, pressing deeper into him. The grunt that your actions pull from his chest has you grinning. “Who’d know you get this hard from getting your ass kicked?”

You must’ve struck a nerve, prodded at the memory he came here to forget, because the only thing you hear in response is what could best be described as a growl before he lifts you off of his lap enough to slip out from underneath you. Your brain recognizes the weight of his body disappearing from the couch and you attempt to turn, just to keep your eyes locked on him but Brady doesn’t give you a chance.

His large hand finds the space between your shoulder blades and pushes you forward, your torso falling until your chest meets the back cushions. You can’t stop the gasp that falls, your arms lifting over the edge of the couch as your back arches, your hips pressing back towards Brady now looming behind you.

A dark chuckle echoes throughout the room in response to your actions as he pulls the material of your skirt over your hips, exposing more of your body to him. He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, instead choosing to move it to the side before he slips two fingers into your already soaked core.

You let out a moan, your head falling forward as Brady’s hand moves, winding you up and my God, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the feeling. His thumb quickly finds your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves and you can’t stop the way your body responds to his movements.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. “You have no right to that attitude when you’re this fucking desperate for me.”

He emphasizes his words with a curl of his fingers, the tips grazing your g-spot and the combined sensation of his hands skillfully moving against you almost has you falling over the edge. Brady doesn’t give you your satisfaction that easily though as he removes his fingers from your core. You whimper at the loss, listening intently to Brady’s movements behind you, impatient to feel him once more.

Brady doesn’t leave you wanting for long as you hear the rustle of his pants hitting the floor and before you can blink, you feel his hands practically tear your panties down your legs before he enters you in one swift, harsh motion.

The moans that you both let out are delicious and desperate. You whine as you move your hips back, pushing him impossibly deeper. Brady groans, his hands quickly finding purchase on your hips, gripping you tight before he begins to move.

“Oh god,” you moan out as Brady fucks into you with quick hard thrusts, showing no mercy, your ass rippling every time it meets his hips. You are grateful for the couch cushions in front of you, helping to support your upper body as your fingers dig into the fabric so deeply that an irrational part of you worries you might tear it.

“Not God, sweetheart. Just me,” Brady replies, his movements barely faltering. “Come on, say my name.”

You wish you could tell him to fuck off, make a quip about his cocky attitude but your mouth doesn’t seem able to form the words or any words for that matter. The only thing you want is for him to continue. A sharp smack against your ass jolts your body forward and your head whips around in surprise, eyes connecting to Brady.

“Say. My. Name,” he repeats, now more command than anything else, every word punctuated by another spank and you are helpless to comply.

“Brady,” you whine, your desperation painted on every letter, your eyes staying locked on him, drinking in his reaction. He groans, his teeth coming to bite his lower lip, his gaze dropping from your face to connect to where his cock disappears into your pussy.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”

His quiet encouragement is all you need to continue moaning his name over and over. One of his hands falls from your hips to join yours in gripping the back of the couch, his body now completely covering yours, the new leverage only increasing the strength in which Brady thrusts into you. Your head falls to rest against the back cushion, the sounds of your staccato whimpers and breathy curses filling the living room along with the continuous depraved slapping of skin against skin.

You whine as you feel his hand disappear from your hip and slowly trace up your body, the softness of his touch a sharp contrast. The gentleness doesn’t last long and your whine turns into a gasp as Brady’s large hand wraps around your throat, pulling your head upwards.

“Keep saying my name,” he says, his hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

“You are, Brady.”

“Yeah? Can anyone else fuck you like I can?”

“No. Only you.”

“That’s right. Only me,” he growls in satisfaction, emphasizing his words with his rhythm.

“Fuck, Brady, please,” you plead, your voice strained from how much focus it took to pry the words from your mouth. “I’m close.”

“Well then, come on sweetheart. Touch yourself. Remind me how good it feels when you cum on my cock.”

The speed in which your hand falls is reckless, frantic to get that additional pressure that you were craving. As soon as your fingers press against your clit, your head falls back against Brady’s shoulder in relief. His praise is muffled against your skin as he peppers your shoulder with kisses, only interrupted by quiet curses as he feels your core flutter.

It is hot, so unbelievably hot – how he’s fucking you, how he’s holding you – that it doesn’t take long for you to finally fall over the precipice, your own hand faltering against you as your orgasm rocks through your body. A groan falls from Brady as he feels you clench around him; a groan that he muffles by sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, the additional sensation causing you to moan louder, hips rocking back against him as his motions halt.

The haze that pricked at the corner of your eyes slowly dissipates and you can feel Brady’s hand fall from your neck. The cool air cascades over your back as Brady lifts himself away from you causing goosebumps to appear. A small whimper escapes when you feel him remove himself from your core and steps away. The submissive part of your mind, still in control, panics in fear that he might leave. But the concern is short lived as Brady sits down next to you, pulling you back into his lap.

He wastes no time capturing you in another kiss, stealing any remaining breath from your lungs. Brady attempts to break the kiss but you don’t let him, hands lifting to cup his jaw and pulling him deeper into the kiss. He doesn’t resist and allows you to continue to kiss him, his own arms wrapping around your body.

Eventually your hands move, trailing down his throat, dancing over his chest and you smile against his lips as you feel his abs tighten in response to your fingers sinking lower until they finally reach the desired destination.

You gently take his still hard length in your hand and stroke him a few times, which was easy to do with your prior release clinging to the silky-smooth skin. You grin as you feel the vibrations of Brady’s soft moan in response to your ministrations. The cloud of your orgasm had lifted and, in its absence, your own confidence returned.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” you question, only moving far enough away to ask, your lips brushing against his occasionally. Brady doesn’t respond; you knew he wouldn’t. He had worked too hard to give up the dominance he held over you so easily. But you weren’t deterred.

You kiss him deeply one more time before your lips follow the path your hands previously traced: down his throat, over his collarbones, across his chest. An occasional moan and curse fall from Brady as you continue your descent and you grin, knowing that his resolve was slowly cracking. Your body moves, shuffling from being perched on top of his lap to kneel on the plush carpet between his thighs. Brady’s eyes are needy when your own eyes dart up to meet his stare. Your hand strokes him again but you make no attempt to put your mouth on him, the dare hanging clearly in the air.

“Baby, please,” Brady finally speaks, his hips punching upwards.

“Who’s fucking desperate now?” you quip, unable to contain your excitement at regaining the upper hand. Your jaw drops open in surprise as Brady’s hand darts out, grabbing your neck once more, his eyes growing dark.

“You want to repeat that sweetheart?” he asks, that dominant energy rolling off him again. Except this time, it doesn’t make you back down. Instead, it just spurs you on, that heat and elation as it returns – the battle, the chase. Your dropped jaw just morphs into a wicked grin and you are ecstatic to see a similar smirk twist onto Brady’s lips; a quiet confirmation that he was still enjoying the newfound push and pull between you two.

“Come on Brady. Admit it. You are just as desperate for me as I am for you,” you explain, your voice dipping again into your lower sultry timbre. “Tell me, do any of those other girls have a mouth like mine?”

You flatten your tongue against his shaft and lick a bold stripe up his length before moving your lips to leave a lingering teasing kiss on the head. Brady groans, his head falling back as his hand moves from your neck to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer in an attempt for you to fully wrap your lips around him.

“No one can fuck me like you can?” you continue, hand wrapping around his cock. “Well, you’ll never find someone who can give better head than I can.”

You don’t give him any chance to respond as you surge forward, finally taking him into your wet mouth. Your tongue traces every vein that you could feel as your hand moves against the rest of him. Brady’s moans sounding from above fuel you and you continue to work your sinful magic against his skin.

It may have been months since you two were in this particular position but you feel like a part of you will remember everything about Brady, including all the spots that make him groan and twitch and throb. Your lips move to suck on the tip, teasing the area where the head meets the shaft with your tongue.

“Fuck,” Brady curses, his hips jumping causing his cock to thrust into your mouth. You gag a little before withdrawing – not completely but only enough to catch your breath. Your eyes dart to his and find that he is already staring at you, his salt-and-pepper hair falling over his forehead. The moan you release at the sight vibrates around Brady causing an identical moan to escape him. You inhale deeply before lowering your head, relaxing your throat until the entirety of his cock is nestled in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking good at that,” he groans, his fingers twisting in your hair. You move, shallowly bobbing your head as you feel him pulse against your tongue, a tell-tale sign he was getting close. The assumption was only confirmed by the next word Brady spoke. “Fuck, baby, gonna cum.”

You pull your mouth from him, replacing it quickly with your hand and continuing the pace you had set.

“I won’t waste a drop,” you say, keeping your eyes locked to his as you wrap your lips around him once again, your hands moving to the side his thighs and pressing your fingertips up into them. Brady understands your silent request, hand once again tightening in your hair as he moves his hips upward, taking control.

“Yeah? You going to swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nod your head, keeping your mouth open and accepting everything he gives, moaning against his skin as he increases his pace. It’s only a few more moments before Brady throws his head back against the couch cushions, a long groan emulating from his chest as his own orgasm hits. You feel his cum hit the back of your throat and you greedily pull him deeper, determined to keep your word.

You let Brady collect himself and take a few deep breaths before you slowly raise your head, sliding off of his cock. You wait until his eyes connect to yours before you swallow, releasing a satisfied exhale afterwards. You can’t help but make a show of it, licking your lips before opening your mouth to show him that you indeed didn’t let anything go to waste.

Brady grins, a smile which you quickly mirror before his hands are on your body, hauling you off the floor and back into his lap. Your lips connect and you sigh, savoring the euphoric glow that surrounded the two of you. The two of you continue to make out for a few minutes, relaxing before you pull away, looking down at Brady.

“D’you feel better?” you joke, the remembrance of why he came to your house in the first place – and what it all meant now – nagging in the back of your mind. You aren’t sure if you can see sadness lingering on the corners of Brady’s smile as his hand runs soothing circles across your spine.

“A little.”

“Need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower,” he replies, looking up at you with those brown eyes that always made you weak. A sparkle that spells nothing but trouble for you flashes in his irises as his smile turns into a wicked smirk. “And perhaps a round two, starting with my head buried between your thighs.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” you breathlessly chuckle, your head shaking in playful disbelief as your tear your gaze from his.

“I just know what I want.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

His quiet declaration has your head turning back to him, connecting your eyes once again. The emotions displayed in his own stare are unfathomable and you know that this isn’t the place to attempt to decipher them. You don’t have time to unwind and unravel the mess that defined you and Brady’s connection: your prior relationship, the subsequent break-up, and everything that happened today.

So, instead, you gently climb from Brady’s lap, standing upright before stretching out your hand towards him. He accepts your offer and you help lift him off the sofa before dragging him down the hallway to the second door on the left, back into your bed.

Like he always belonged there.

Like he never left.

tagging the skjei-sy sluts (affectionate) who asked for a continuation + a few others I think would appreciate this: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @cellythefloshie @comphy-and-cozy @laurenairay

#nicole writes #brady skjei fic #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei smut #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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cartermagazine · 19 days

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Today In History

Herbie Hancock contemporary jazz composer, musician, band leader and actor was born in Chicago Illinois on this date April 12, 1940.

Herbie Hancock is a true icon of modern music. Throughout his explorations, he has transcended limitations and genres while maintaining his unmistakable voice. With an illustrious career spanning five decades and 14 Grammy® Awards, including Album of the Year for River: The Joni Letters, he continues to amaze audiences across the globe.

There are few artists in the music industry who have had more influence on acoustic and electronic jazz, R&B and Hip-Hop than Herbie Hancock. As the immortal Miles Davis said in his autobiography, “Herbie was the step after Bud Powell and Thelonious Monk, and I haven’t heard anybody yet who has come after him.”

CARTER™️ Magazine

#herbie hancock #carter magazine #carter #historyandhiphop365 #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #history #cartermagazine #today in history #staywoke #blackhistory #blackhistorymonth

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usedpidemo · 2 years

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Awards after-party affair (Itzy Yuna)

Like a ringing bell at the top of the hour, the signal is loud, instant, and right on time. One eager attendee catches the first van roll onto the red carpet entrance. He makes the call like it’s routine, alerting everyone else for an invasion—a visual attack is about to happen.

“They’re here!”

You’re no different from the rest of this eager crowd. You stop whatever you’re doing—in this case, fiddling with your handheld camera—to redirect your gaze in the same direction as everyone else. Despite how little in common you share with these people, you’re all in perfect sync, like this has all been practiced and choreographed a thousand times. From the front seats come out two imposing men: one serving as driver and the other as manager/bodyguard. The driver slides open the door. Though they’re only silhouettes, shadows that are unassuming, it’s enough to make the masses scream their lungs out.

See, you’re not a fan. To you, you’re only doing a job. It pays remarkably well and creates jealousy to anyone whenever you bring it up in conversation. At this point though, you’re completely callous to the experience and share the same amount of displeasure as an average joe working a 9-to-5. The ordeal of covering numerous award shows, red carpets, and press junkets from week to week—sometimes two events in a single day—serve as more of an endless assault on your senses and test of patience with everyone, and this is no different. Sure, it’s a rare privilege to meet all kinds of larger than life stars, but dealing with their bitchy PR managers is a whole other affair.

It’s late in the afternoon, the sun at its apex right before descent, without a single cloud in sight, and you’re fucking dying of dehydration. It doesn’t help that there's cafes perched on nearly every corner you look, and an iced drink never looked so mouthwatering. Even if you wanted a teeny-tiny sip, you can’t. You have no power to, because as trivial as it is compared to other events you’ve attended, everything’s on the line. Your editors need the scoop to regurgitate the same old content produced by almost every other media outlet patiently waiting in line, too.

The truth is: it’s always been the same old same old since day one. Really, there’s little that crosses the line from both the interviewer and interviewee. It’s always the safest option, the cleanest question. Nothing goes beyond that; no one’s willing to step beyond that arbitrary boundary, even if it’s to spice up the headlines once in a while. No wonder your publication, along with many others, resorts to shady gossip and misleading articles with poor, if not any supporting evidence.

Still, you’re already there, and there’s nothing to lose in the long term—except a few hours of your time.

One by one, both actors and idols alike hop off their black vans, wave to the crowd, speak to a few junkets in line, then head inside. Extra time willing, they take a couple of pictures with the screaming audience or some lucky fan. The entire process moves by in a robotic and formulaic way, it reinforces the negative stereotypes critics have about the industry—and you’re quietly one of those detractors. Nevertheless, you put aside your personal judgment, and follow along, the several dozens of photos you’ve taken of every star on the carpet as proof of your professionalism.

The endless stream of appearances from both small and big names continue for at least another hour. Celebrity vans line up bumper-to-bumper to continue dropping more off; it might as well be a delivery store of people’s dreams. Out comes the next anticipated set of stars, another indistinguishable five-member girl group, all dressed in black. Your trigger fingers take as much as they can, as fast they can. The end result is several individual and group shots added to your camera roll, probably some of your best so far, as they are conveniently positioned right in front of you—at the center of your lens—compared to almost everyone else. Take another look at a few of the pictures you took, and you notice they’re staring right at you.

Even as the red carpet wraps up, you don’t really think much of it. Inside, you’re called backstage, along with your fellow media representatives, where it’s basically a rinse and repeat of what happened outside, with longer, more forgiving intervals. At least you can finally rest your tired legs, and unlike the red carpet, where it’s a nonstop barrage of action, commercials actually give you, and the other journalists by extension, more room to breathe—the only positive ads will ever have for humanity.

Similarly, winners line up backstage after claiming their trophy and giving their typical, routine speech. Arriving at a room filled with nothing but media, they answer a different but familiar set of sanitary questions, then go back to their seats. The pacing difference between awards proper and red carpet is night and day, like hitting traffic at rush hour. Most of the time, everyone’s eyes are glued to the widescreen television while the show plays out, and it’s no different from a viewer watching at home. The energy inside the cramped room is laid back and relaxed; at times you forget you’re at an awards ceremony and not your local bar.

Really, it’s only the celebrities themselves who are in a hurry, speaking to the press like they’re rapping, tapping their feet like they haven’t stopped dancing, clear in their intention to leave in a hurry, which is the most relatable they can be with their audience. Most winners appear only once, with a few exceptions. The seven boys you see almost everywhere in Korea, even more so globally—make the most frequent returns, even closing out as the recipient of the grand prize, and their exit means everyone in the media is done for the night, too.

You should be going home by now. It’s getting late, and you’re practically done, except not really. As is tradition, there’s always a few afterparties being thrown around in celebration, and to your annoyance, you have to attend one. To make things worse, you’re not there to have fun and get wasted—not in the slightest. You’re there to take some more photos and get additional quotes, according to your superiors’ orders. There’s no added incentive or bonus in return for a few more hours of your time that could have been spent in more productive activities or resting for the next day, but you still power on because your job is never truly stable. One missed opportunity, one stolen scoop, and next thing you know, you’re being shown the door.

The lounge you end up going to might as well be a goddamn rave. Flashing lights, bodies crowding up the dance floor, deafening bass-boosted music blasting through the many speakers—it’s the most torturous parts of the job crammed into one colorful, insufferable hellhole. It’s less of a place where celebrities hang out and more of a grimy hangout where needy, desperate mad men and women look to get fucked. Before entering, you check the address and location on your phone. Perhaps there’s been a mistake, and you were given incorrect information. Nope. The text you receive from your supervisor reconfirms the location. Inside, you also find a few other journalists suffocating under the same toxic air like you.

Squeezing between drunk bodies, mindlessly dancing like there’s no tomorrow, you sneak to the spacious bar, a temporary reprieve from the ear-splitting, soul-crushing madness. Whipping out several paper bills from your pocket, you slide them forward on the counter, mumbling to the barista your desired drink. At this point, you’d take anything, as long as it makes the rest of the night bearable.

“I’ll take two of what he’s having.” A feminine voice interjects, more bills than yours twirled between her fingertips, and the barista accepts her payment instead, overturning yours and sliding your money back.

From the blurred reflection on the counter, you swing your gaze to the right. A cute, young woman in a black, slinky dress takes the unoccupied seat beside you, flashes you an eye smile and cheeky grin back.

“Sup,” she says, casually, like you’re two friends hanging out together. “Didn’t expect you to show up here as well.”

“Wait.” With furrowed brows, you point a finger at her. She looks awfully familiar, but you can’t really tell her apart from the countless well dressed people you’ve been seeing for hours on end. “Aren’t you from—”

“Oh? You interviewed me earlier!”

Her answer doesn’t provide a single hint or narrows down who. You’ve taken countless pictures of different girl groups, and your lack of investment towards any of them means they’re basically indistinguishable in your eyes. Still, she looks young enough to be a member from one of the more junior groups.

“Yeah, none of this is adding up.”

“Yuna? Shin Yuna? Does that name ring a bell to you?”

“Oh, of course it does!” Her name rings a few bells, but still, you’re not confident enough to confirm, and it shows in your tone. “Itzy, right?”

She nods positively, brimming with joy at the mention of her group’s name. “Yep yep!”

“Well, congrats on the award again,” you reply, reaching out your hand as a friendly gesture. You don’t really remember what award her group won or how many trophies they won, nor do you have the willpower to care, but a little kindness goes a long way. “You had a great performance as well.”

“Thanks!” Smiling toothily, Yuna bows while reciprocating your motion, meeting halfway for a respectful handshake. Her grip tightens for a brief moment before quickly pulling back. “I appreciate your comment.”

Timely. The barista returns to you with two drinks you forgot you ordered. She takes them both, hands you one, and you both raise your glasses to the sky before clinking them together.

“Cheers.”

With hearty spirits, you take a little sip from your drink, while Yuna downs a quarter of her beverage. The sweet taste elicits a cheery, wide smile on her lips, compels her to down more. After only the second swig, half of her drink is gone. Both of you can’t be more different when it comes to enjoying alcohol; you’re one to ease into it slowly, while she rushes into the feeling. Then you take note of the fact that she looks quite young—she’s the youngest of her group, in fact—having just come of age, and drinking appears to be a fresh concept to her. No wonder she looks so enthusiastic and pumped about indulging liquor.

“So,” Yuna places her glass on the counter with an audible thud and peeps you with comically wide, childlike eyes. “What brings you here?”

“Not much,” you say, casually, as you stare at the stainless glass and the yellow liquid contained within. Its bubbliness fascinates you, captures your scrutiny like it’s the most interesting thing around, like a work of art in an exhibit. “I should be the one interviewing you, and to get some more information.”

“Information about what?”

“I don’t know. Something to fill up the paper, I guess.” You inch the drink closer to you, inspecting it from top to bottom like some type of rare artifact—something to occupy your idle, bored mind.

“You make it sound like you’re spying on us,” retorts Yuna, playfully resting her chin against her clenched fist leaning on the table. Her eyes take a cursory look, examining you from head-to-toe, finding something around your chest that intrigues her. “I mean, good try though.”

“It’s not that kind of information,” you reply, aware that it’s spoken with hyperbole, but still, there’s a difference between safe, journalistic reporting and straight-up criminal stalking.

“You’re really terrible at this tabloid job, you know?” mocks Yuna, poking her finger at the camera partially hidden behind your coat. On her lips is a cocky, teasing smirk, with the clear intent to toy with you. She’s leaning closer, eager to watch your expressions crumble little by little. “It’s like you’re begging for information.”

If only she weren’t so cute and innocent in how she goes about it, you’d probably wave the white flag, give up halfway, and profess—or straight up leave.

“And is that supposed to dissuade me?” says you, flatly, completely unbothered. Your eyes make contact with hers, staring at her with a piercing leer. Instead of being intimidated, her smile widens, and her shiny teeth are blinding; she knows she’s caught you under her trap, slowly pulling on your most sensitive strings, and her words have a subtle effect on you.

“If it could, yes,” replies Yuna, peering through your gaze with widening eyes, looking at you with heightened intrigue, unfazed by your shallow threat. “But since you’re so determined and stubborn to get some information for that shitty paper of yours, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“Do tell.”

Suddenly, she tears her gape away from you, turns her head left and right for any crossing sign, then back at you with a wider, suspicious smirk. “Not here.”

—————

You expected her to take you to a peaceful location, like the back rooms or one of the many uninhabited private booths. For someone like her, a K-pop idol, surely there’s a van waiting for her outside, ready to depart on call.

A bathroom stall was far from it.

The moment she stood up, walked away, then looked back with a different, expressive glance, that was an open invitation for you. Forget about the fact that she’s an idol and a celebrity first; in those caramel eyes was a glance that was forbidding and scandalous, but alluring enough to draw you in without a moment of hesitation. Not once you questioned where she was leading you. You trailed closely behind, drinking in the young starlet’s hourglass figure, perfectly shaped for a skintight dress that made her stand out from everyone in the crowd. With such dreamlike beauty walking in a sea of commoners, you thought all eyes would be on her, as usual, but the opposite happened—it was you who became hypnotized by her.

Eventually, you both sneak past everyone, which proves to be relatively trivial, locking yourselves together inside an empty bathroom secluded on the club’s second floor. Yuna looks around the spacious restroom for possible occupants, only to find every one of the five available stalls completely unoccupied. Despite how hidden you are from the rest of the party, the music echoes loud enough to pass through the walls.

“Perfect,” she says, taking another scope then to the widescreen mirror, possibly referring to the setting, and to herself. She looks at her reflection with a confident, proud grin, and your suspicion is proven correct. “I’m pretty sure you know where this is going, right?”

“Mhmm,” you reply, nodding. Two people, alone in a bathroom. You know damn well what’s about to happen.

This isn’t the first time a star has offered themselves to you behind closed doors. It’s an industry secret, but open news shared among most publications and certain names that get around. It’s these private affairs where most of the money comes from. Each incident generates revenue in exchange for keeping such filthy secrets classified and hidden. Can’t say you’re clean or innocent in the issue; you’ve had a few experiences with some of Korea’s biggest film stars in exchange for money too, but this is your first time with a K-pop idol, and they say they’re the ones who are deepest in the circle.

“Good, I guess I don’t have to tell you how fucking horny I am,” says Yuna, casual in her delivery of such shocking filth. “And the rumors are true,” she continues, flashing you a flirtatious wink. Her fingers play with the straps holding her dress together, dragging them along her shoulders.

“That you’re a slut?”

“We’re all sluts, baby,” she replies, approaching you with a seductive gaze that can render anyone paralyzed, and you’re no exception. With a cute, fresh face like hers, It’s unbelievable and quite frankly dumbfounding how leisurely she says it, like it’s the norm for everyone in her profession—and it’s sufficient evidence to prove that case. Then again, she’s still a teen, and you’re on the edge of a really dangerous line. Sure, having sexual favors with anyone in the entertaiment industry is already a line crossed, but this is a whole layer below with far more grave implications, and here she comes, forcefully dragging you far beyond the point of no return. Really, with your line of work, this was bound to happen eventually, but you never expected it to come from such an unexpected person—a Korean idol, your least favorite kind of celebrity.

But this is the moment where all of that changes.

“Still have some battery left in that camera, right?” Yuna points at the handheld camera dangling freely on your chest again. “Go and take some.”

You incorrectly predicted her to jump right into the action, but you’re not bothered in the slightest. You were already taking a gallery’s worth of mental pictures of her sexy body, made hotter by her deliberate, seductive teasing, but having a physical reference for future personal use is helpful too.

So you pull the camera from its strap to take photos of the frisky maknae while she does many poses for you. Even behind a lens, her beauty is so ethereal, it doesn’t compare in the slightest to looking at her with the naked eye. She exudes a perfect balance of cute and sultry, a trait you’ve rarely seen among the many actors and actresses you’ve met before. Perhaps this is the greatest strength of an idol, and you’re left wanting more.

Yuna then approaches you, occupied taking as many pictures you can of the idol, running your remaining memory dry. She drops to her knees, looks at you with those wide, inviting eyes, and her fingers wrap around the edges of your pants.

“Don’t stop,” she says, pouting her lips upward, in the direction of your camera to emphasize her command, and you know you can’t do otherwise. Photography isn’t in your skill set, yet she trusts you with her life—her career—and there’s pressure beginning to amount in your head. Surely she’s not that desperate to the point where she’s asking a random journalist to get her quick fill of excitement.

The spark in her eyes, the determination on her brows, and the carefree smile on her lips—this isn’t her first rodeo, and it certainly won’t be her last.

Yuna turns her attention away from your curious, troubled gaze to your pants, unzipping the hindering garment down while you continue capturing every still, every frame of the young woman in such a vulnerable, lewd position. These photos would spell disaster should they ever leak out of this room, and it’s even more dangerous when it’s a young group, a rising name who has a stake on the global stage. Even so, you continue snapping photos at her request, fingers pretty much playing a single repeating key on the trigger, you might as well have glued your index to the button.

“I knew it,” she murmurs, the erect tent on your groin area poking into view. Seconds later, your boxers join your pants on the floor, springs your cock free from its clothed prison. “I’m gonna have a lot of fun tonight. I don’t know what the other girls are doing, but they’ll regret not being here. It’s fine, I don’t feel like sharing this.”

With your hard cock next to the pretty, demure idol, your involvement can’t be any more obvious. Yuna immediately notices the sudden quietness of the camera, so she looks up at you again, notes your flushed cheeks, the little beads of sweat forming on your head, and giggles.

“Really now?” she says, lifting a puzzled eyebrow, fingers slowly gripping around your shaft. You try to resist, show a little opposition, but it’s superficial; before long, you can’t hold in the jolt of pleasure coursing through your nerves and utter a low, muffled moan. “You’re perfectly fine with taking sensitive pictures of me, but you’ll say no to this? You’ve said it yourself. I’m a slut—a slut for good cock.”

Her soft, dainty tongue latches onto your tip, rendering you more speechless. Can’t say she’s wrong, and telling her otherwise would make you look worse. Bodily ecstasy makes your senses go haywire; your hands struggle to hold the camera, but you manage to save all that important material with one hand and let the other wander down to caress and stroke her long, auburn hair. Your eyes flutter shut, unable to take in the sight of Yuna kissing and pumping your cock, and the knot in your tongue loosens, releasing delicate, breathy moan after moan.

It’s clear that Yuna’s done this before, experienced with the art of sexual pleasure, like it’s her primary line of profession, and she knows all the tricks and weaknesses to get to the core of any man or woman. At this point, you’ve practically neglected her demand, but the soft, intimate kissing sounds she makes as she revels in your cock give you a solid reference point to take more mental pictures of her. The camera in your grasp has been set aside on the sink. Both of your hands grip on the young woman’s brown locks, straddling a line between gentle and assertive as she gradually takes your length into her mouth.

“F-fuck, Yuna—” you mutter, having difficulty to formulate words, forcing your brain to resort to moans and grunts like a baby.

She doesn’t react or budge in the slightest; she only works harder and harder. The idol remains steadfast, filling her mouth up to your base, generously coating your shaft with her saliva. Her fingers dig into your thighs, pressing you harshly against the sink as your moan turns into an echoed groan. The quick burst of pain you feel is overtaken by the continuous pleasure flowing throughout your veins, like sexual indulgence is the only thing your body understands.

You try to fight your overwhelmed senses, hoping to catch even a tiny glimpse of the beautiful woman giving you the best blowjob in the world, and it proves to be an intense struggle. Not once are you cognizant about tossing the idol’s head back and forth, even with the audible, echoey plop plop sounds raising several warning flags saying you’re too aggressive. Eventually, you manage to lift one eye open to see Yuna, completely immersed in her own pleasure, diligently sucking your cock while mixes of drool and precum splatter on her chin, her collarbones, and down to her black dress, leaving even more apparent hints for everyone to see.

In the end, it’s only you who gets to look at the different, ruined side of Yuna. Here’s a popular star, larger than life in the eyes of many, down on her knees, subservient to the most human and primal urges, just like anyone else. A wave of cum gushes into her mouth right as she releases your cock like spilled milk. Your burst of seed waterfalls, filling her chin and her dress with a dirty, sticky coat of white. Her eyes pop open, surprised at how filthy she looks, and how early she made you cum.

“Oh God,” says Yuna, pressing a hand on her glistening chin, then to her dress top. Gooey strings connect her fingers and the expensive, messed up fabric. “I made you cum early didn’t I?”

You’re catching heavy breaths, looking up at the ceiling, staring at the blinding lights like you’re seeing heaven. You might as well be; she ripped your soul out of your body with only her tongue.

“Shit, Yuna, I—”

Returning to her mischievous ways, her laughter echoes throughout the bathroom, poking fun at your overwhelmed state, like it’s the first time you’ve had sex. She’s proud of herself for making you cum with a mere blowjob, and she flicks her digits to coat them with more of your seed as her reward. Lapping them up into a sizable sample, she takes her fingers into her mouth for a taste.

“Yeah.” She rises to your level, licks her fingers clean, decorates her pink lips with your seed with a wide, charming, cheeky grin. Your marks are prominent on the grooves of her lips. “You’re so yummy.”

Lowering your gaze back down to earth, you finally see the ravaged mess you’ve done to Yuna. Spurts of white on her face, neck, and many puddles that have stained her dress. Seeing the utter disbelief in your expressions, she plays into the naughtiness by pressing her cum stained fingers on her inviting, visible cleavage.

With a free hand snaking down to your crotch, she pumps you back to hardness, holding a steady gaze of lust with you, the fire in her loins freshly renewed. “I know you want more. I want more.” Her other hand reaches to one strap, pulls it further down her arm, then does the same with the remaining cord, freely exposing her sizable breasts, drawing your eyes toward her chest. It’s difficult to look away, especially when someone like her knows how to captivate with a face like hers, natural with how expressive she is, only because she allowed you to stare elsewhere.

You gasp and sigh under the tight duress Yuna puts on your groin, giving her more confidence and a stronger hold on you. Grasp her bare shoulder with one hand, wander around her waist with the other, carefully crossing the lines of fabric and skin until you reach her surprisingly round ass. Her features slowly melt and eyes widen as she leans her face close, breath tensing up in anticipation, lips repressing her groan, practically whispering to you, “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

Yuna’s eyes pop out, caught unawares as you take her body and flip your positions around. She's now pressed against the bathroom sink with you assuming control. Her hands hold onto your shoulders, still fixated to your eyes like she sees stars within them. With the strength of your hand gripped to her ass, you lift her up partially so that her feet no longer touch the ground, and her legs slowly part, giving you an opening. Your other hand ruffles through her short skirt, digs into her tunnel, and she winces.

“Oh, fuck—” Her nails dig into the fabric of your shirt as you feel a slick, wet sensation on your fingers. Her features are so expressive, they’re best actress worthy. She shudders, teeth gritting intensely as you withdraw your digits. In an instant, her calm, confident attitude fades at your slightest touch, and she grows impatient and desperate. “Give me your cock now! I need you to fill me—”

You capture her lips in a passionate, fervid kiss, shutting her up as a distraction while you line your erect cock between her sopping cunt. She whines into the smooch, tries to break away, but you pull her in, let your tip run up and down around her wet entrance, and she hums musically. In turn, she pushes you as close to her as humanly possible; you might as well be practically inside her. Her lips curl into a frown as she pushes her dress further down, bunching it with the bottom of her skirt, her now naked, sweaty midriff pressed against your shirt.

Drawing your face away from hers, you take a second to admire the spry starlet, once dolled up to near perfection, now as filthy and human as the typical clubgoer. She doesn’t reciprocate your adoring gaze, annoyed at the small amount of time wasted, when that time could have been spent already impaling yourself deep inside her. It’s not like you’ve spent the whole day salivating and taking pictures of her.

“Wait.” Avert your eyes from the idol to the camera you’ve forgotten for a moment. She kisses you madly, showering your cheeks with wet, soppy marks filled with lipstick and sticky cum, but it doesn’t faze you in the slightest. You know simple distractions don't bother you by now.

Camera pointed at you both, you return your attention to her, finally giving her what she wants without any further delay. With a single smooth stroke, you plunge your cock into her wet pussy, and it flexes right back in a brief move of resistance, but you push deeper into her heat and it takes the breath right out of your lungs.

“F-f-fuck, Yuna, you’re—tight.”

The spry woman lifts her head back, exposes her smooth, flawless neck, uttering a long, breathy sigh before it turns into a pitched whine. Her nails poke into your nape, clutches deep into your skin, body sliding up and down along with your cock as you acclimate to the suffocating tightness of her cunt. There’s no sense of rhythm or pace in the manner you pound her, only focused on chasing that sensual high, using her model figure as canvas for your pleasure.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, that’s—” Yuna whines with each slam of your hips, slack jawed and drooling, eyes completely shut, enveloped under the gripping force of your cock spearing her tight, sensitive hole. “Your cock feels so—”

Her sentence fades into another series of whimpers and cries of bliss. Seeing her tits bounce and ripple with each rock of her body arouses you, and they draw you in, more than any other part of her. Yuna’s body was an open invitation for you to take, which you gladly do.

Bury your face between her chest, cupping her soft, creamy flesh within your grasp, then take her taut nipples into your mouth, going back and forth between both breasts, giving them the equal amount of attention they rightfully deserve.

You continue to fuck the maknae into submission, giving the camera a good show, already more entertaining and exciting after only a few minutes than a four-hour-long awards ceremony. The artist is treated way better, and so is the cameraman by being an active participant in the action, dictating the pace the way he sees fit. As it goes, you push yourself quicker and quicker, trying to wrap up the show, plunging deep into her constricting walls, drenching your cock with more of her wet juices.

The many expressions she makes as you touch her and ruin her are award worthy; they can belong in a fancam reel and it wouldn’t be any more different. Hell, she’s more provocative and intense than her typical routine music performance. Her features curl into almost every emotion a human can experience, from pain and pleasure, evoking a strong, unforgettable image, another mental picture to save in your memories, more detailed than any photograph.

Then there’s the sound—the music is as loud as ever, blocking out the endless stream of cries she makes. Yuna’s tone is high-pitched, moaning out a blissful song as you stretch her pussy out, with the little flap of wet skin against skin backing her up, and it tickles your ears in all the right spots.

You slide a finger from her breast to her crotch, feel the surging wetness coat your digit, then lower her to the floor—but only for a moment. While Yuna remains staggered in ecstasy, you turn the woman around, facing the mirror, before you reacquaint your cock inside her drenched cunt, and it’s like you never stopped fucking her. She moans, and moans—and moans.

“You’re so fucking hot, Yuna,” you whisper in her ear. Her back arches as you wreck her from behind. Staring at your reflection, you note your smug expression. For once, you look really good in the mirror, especially with the woman in front of you.

Her expressions say it all: she likes being fucked. The way her smile briefly flashes before melting between thrusts, she knows her body is built for sex—perfect for a slut like her. Even she can’t help but look proud at how drop dead gorgeous she is, especially in that lewd, erotic position.

Using her expressive, satisfied face as motivation, you piston quicker and quicker, glancing at the young idol flaunting her many charms off like she’s in front of the cameras, like the bright lights are on her, like an audience is watching her. Your mind is centered on her too; in fact, she’s the only one in your thoughts, with each thrust intended to make her sing, make her perform, make her act.

“Gonna—gonna—” she cries, hoarsely, barely able to muster up the strength to formulate coherent speech.

“Cum on my cock Yuna,” you say, whispering in her ear again, pulling on her triggers. “Cum on my cock.”

The words are more than enough to set her off. Yuna’s mouth goes wide, forming an ‘O’ shape, her body going rigid and quaking as she loses control of herself to her bliss. She orgasms; it’s powerful and lengthy, dragging you further into her inescapable whirlpool, and really, it only accelerates your own forthcoming climax, and you fuck her as she rides out her peak, savoring the remaining time you have left before you drown in your own high as well.

“I can feel you throbbing hard for me,” she says, completely washed over by her own dwindling orgasm. “Cum in me. Cum for this slut. Don’t ever think about pulling out of this wet pussy meant for you!”

Gripping your hands between her dirty chestnut locks, you try to resist a little more, show that you can last longer than she initially thought, but ultimately give in for a second time. On a deep, violent stroke, you make a lengthy, incomprehensible sound that might as well be the relief you feel after holding in that burning sensation in your loins. You release hot spurt after spurt into her pussy, her name dripping from your lips like you’re thanking God for release, and you feel a sticky, gooey tingling on your thighs.

Eventually, your hips wind down along with your orgasm, until they come to a full stop. You rest your head forward, laying on the sink beside her, still embedded inside her. The moans that filled the room fade in the background of the club’s thunderous music, but both of you are oblivious and tired to hear anything except for deep, heavy breaths.

After an uncertain period of time—could have been a few minutes or a few hours, you have a timely day off tomorrow, so it’s the least of importance—you come to your senses first and check on the camera you’ve set on the side. Yuna follows shortly after, washing her hands clean, but it doesn’t cleanse her of her filth.

“So?” she says, trying in vain to look neat. She looks at the camera in your hand while you scan through the reel. “How do I look?”

You present the gallery to her, showing her every single ilicit and raunchy photo you’ve taken of her, until you get to the part where you reveal that you’ve recorded yourselves having sex. It’s crude, it’s pornographic, it’s perfect.

She pouts her lips, gives an approving nod. “We look so good together. I need you to send me these via email.”

“Of course,” you say, nonchalantly—like this is a completely regular exchange—like she’s not an idol and you’re a journalist with an integrity to uphold, but all that’s thrown out the window now. “When I get on my computer tomorrow.”

After you both clean up to the best of your abilities, Yuna gestures at you to wait as she unlocks the bathroom door, then slowly turns the knob. Not once has it knocked and distracted you. Maybe you’ve missed a few, but still, it was probably drowned out by the music and the moaning. As a result, you were left unbothered the entire time, so perhaps Yuna’s plan was foolproof right from the start—

“Hey!”

Yuna’s eyes grow wide in shock, followed by yours. On the other side of the door are four women waiting, well dressed as she is, who look just as surprised as both of you.

“Who’s that guy you’re with?” asks the woman with dragon-like eyes, tone expressing disappointment at her member. Her gaze is similar to Yuna’s, studying you from head to toe like she did.

Then they all say in unison, “And why weren’t you sharing him with us?”

(A/N: Yuna looked incredible in that dress she wore for The Fact Music Awards, and the fact she's sharing so many pics makes it even better. Surprised there's nothing based on this material, but I understand why. Boys Like You is really good, go stream it! Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #itzy #yuna

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akixxsstuff · 21 days

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Dating L would be like...

Death Note L Lawliet x gender neutral reader

(I'm aware that the picture says girlfriend but the gender of the reader is not specified in the fic. The pictures were also edited by me).

Fluff // One shot

Summary: L was more like a machine than a human, he was cold, calculated and a "no fun and games" type of person aside from the occasional sarcastic or dry humored comment. L never lost his composure and would repress any emotion he had has a intimidation tactic. He was blunt and wouldn't allow anything or anyone to dethrone him.

However around you, L wasn't quite that...

The task force had suspected you and L were a couple, but whenever anyone asked about it, L would quickly shut down the conversation and went back to his work, saying that it wasn't any of their business. You and L were a couple but he just wanted to keep things secretive and professional since doing otherwise made him feel vulnerable.

He couldn't let his suspect Light know how much you meant to him just in case he used it against him, plus it was just in L's nature to be serective.

However as soon the doors were closed and the task force was gone, he would be nuzzling into your shoulder, whining for attention. He would never stop clinging onto you until he got he's way because in his own words, "I'm also childish and don't like to lose".

Like today for instance:

"Not now Lolly, I've got an appointment to book", you said sighing while L continued kissing your neck and nibbling your ear from behind. "I love you but I do not appreciate your lack of cooperation" L then grumbled.

Lolly was your main pet name for L since it sounded like it was short for lollipop, (and we all know how much L loves those) and sounded similar to his real name, Lawliet. Panda was also another common one since he reminded you of one with his dark eyes and pale skin.

He then kneeled in between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, looking up at you in annoyance in an attempt to guilt trip you, (however he couldn't mask he's pleading eyes). "Lolly I already told you I'm busy, just 10 more minutes okay my love?" you cooed while stroking his cheek. But L didn't care, he picked you up bridal style from your chair and tossed you onto the bed. "Lawliet, you should know of all people how important it is to not have any distractions from your work" you said rasing an eyebrow. "You make a fair point" L says with his thumb on his lip, "But I'm not feeling very empathetic tonight" then he proceeded to smother you with kisses.

Your dates were either cafe hopping, picnics in the park, or L trying to teach you tennis. You would always try to get him to wear shoes but he would refuse, saying "I don't like how they feel". "I know but I don't want you to step on a piece of glass and hurt yourself" you would say while kissing his forehead. "I'm sure I'll live" L would say while kissing you back. You would then sigh and take off your shoes, "Fine. If that's how you want to play" and you both would walk around barefoot.

Another thing L wouldn't budge on is removing all the cameras and wiring taps from your room, if someone broke in and tired to hurt you he needed to know immediately who was responsible so he could toss them in jail forever. He valued your life way more than his, afterall, he did challenge Kira to kill him live on broadcast.

L absolutely loved when you taunted his number one suspect Light, in fact it was his love language.

"I'm not Kira!" Light would yell.

"You're not a very convincing actor Light, but hey! Maybe they'll give you an academy award in prison just for trying. Light Yagami! Mass murderer tries playing innocent victim!".

As a detective, L would always be analysising people's behaviour and you were no expectation.

"How was your day darling?" L cooed.

"Fine. I'm going to my room".

You say that you're fine Y/N yet you're tone and lack of physical affection would indicate otherwise. Could you be trying to deprive me of your attention as an indirect punishment? What could have I done?

However, you did mention how your work load has increased because of the lack of empyoees, were you stressed from that and simply avoided me to avoid talking about it? Did you just want to forget the stresses of your day? I should confront you instead of making any assumptions, it could make matters worse because you might believe that I am deliberately ignoring you.

"Love, I believe I have done something to upset you, please tell me what it is was so I can correct my behaviour. Will you accept this piece of cake as a initial peace offering? If I'm not to blame then please tell me who's bothering you so I can potentially sue them".

#death note #fluff #fanfic #x reader #l lawliet #y/n #one shot #gender neutral y/n

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official-n3va3h · 3 months

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If you were their idol girlfriend

« OT8 x fem reader » (Hyung Line)

Genre: fluff 10x.

Warning: use of pet names

A/N: STOPPP I WAS ON TIKTOK AND THIS IDEA POPPED UP AFTER WATCHING AN EDIT OF FELIX AND I.N😭😭 (they are just being cute little guys)🫠

•———————————————————————————•

Bang Chan

OMG, he’s so supportive like he’s your literal dream hype man every-time. He goes to almost every concert of yours. he always finds his way backstage fluttering you with compliments after your performance. He’s also always making sure your properly rested and hydrated asking you little things like, “did you drink any water” or “are you tired, you need a break.” Every-time it’s around comeback season and you come home late from practice or the studio. He always has dinner already made and will run a bath for you to relax in.

“Channie, im home” you walked through the door, slipping your shoes off and your bag. You walked towards the kitchen, in hopes your boyfriend would be there, for you to sink into. You saw him in the kitchen cooking with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You threw your arms around his waist and laid your head against his back. “Hello, to you too” he smiled as he heard your muffled hum. “I started the bath for you, go get in and I’ll meet you there, yeah?” He softly said planting a kiss on one of yours hands. You made your way to the bathroom and sluggishly stripped your clothes from your body. You stepped into the bath slowly letting the water caress you to a relaxed state. A few minutes later Chan slowly peaked his head in and then eventually his fully body. “I see your relaxed now hmm?” A peaceful hum left your lips, you were so at ease, after this comeback you’ve been working extra hard and chans been there through every step of the way. You really felt like you had the best boyfriend.

Lee Know

I He’s like so proud of you all the time after every performance and sometimes on the inside he’s always fanboying over you. Like if you were on tour, he’d be with you all the time, on every plane and at every concert. He’d always go back stage to talk to you during little breaks or before you go out. He always pays attentions to the little things you do when your nervous, so he knows exactly how to calm you down before you go out to perform.

“Deep breaths, deep breaths baby, your okay” you stood in front of Minho holding his hands trying to catch your breath. You were about to perform for the MAMA awards, you’ve been working so hard perfecting your performance but you were so nervous. “In and out, there you go” he said finally getting you to stabilize your breathing. “Fuck…I’m so nervous it’s not even funny” you said while doing small hops in place while shaking your hands trying to possibly shake the nerves away. “Your fineeee, there’s nothing to be nervous about, this is your life” he planted a kiss on your lips, fixing ur mic and ear piece with a light smirk. Suddenly you felt a little bit lighter and your nerves fluttered away. You smiled while doing a light jog, to go to the place you deeply loved. The Stage.

Changbin

Stop Changbin’s like your number 1 fan I promise you. Sometimes he can’t believe your with him. He’s always gawking over you like I swear, like you’ll come home from practice or something and you’ll see him at the table unboxing your album. He’d be all giggly about it too like he’d take the photo cards and if he got you he’d be all smiley and shit like “OMG, LOOK I GOT YOU BABE” you’d always just sit and smile at him, hiding your bright red cheeks. Sometimes you’ll scout next to him unboxing the rest with him.

“Babyy…you look so good” he said pointing at you after unrolling the poster. “Binnieee…” your whined cover your face, You couldn’t help but grin practically ear to ear, as he showered you in praise. “Cmon baby show me your face, don’t be shy” he grabbed ur hands taking them off your face. He just smiled at you, almost star-struck that this was his life, you were his girl and he loved that his.

Hyunjin

OMGGG HYUNJINNNN. He literally worships you all the time, every time he looks at you he swears he’s looking at an angel. He especially likes to watch you when your dancing, he’s obsessed with your dance style and he loves hearing your voice when your singing. He listens to your songs on repeat I swearrr. Sometimes he’ll ask you to like teach him the dance break to one of your songs that he likes and he’d practice till he perfected it so he can show you.

“Y/nnnn can you please teach me the dance break to _______” he climbed into bed next to you playing the part he wanted to learn. You smiled and your cheeks burned a rosey red. “Of course ..Jinniee” he jumped up excitedly and grabbed ur hand running towards the living room. “It’s a bit hard so it may take a while” you start teaching him step by step but one part he keeps messing up on. “Hyunnie…you gotta like glide your hand with your hips” you said staring at him attempting the move again. “Like this” you smiled and walked over to him and grabbed his hand “like this?” You giggled. “Look watch me” you played the music and then when the part came up you dropped your hand towards your hips slowly moving them at the same time. He starred at you in awe. “You really are a pretty angel.” Your eyes glistening and your cheeks blushed.. “Hyunn” you leaned over and kissed him softly. “Your the pretty one”

A/N : I SKIMMED PAST THIS SOO IF MY SPELLINGS OFF LMK❗️

#skz #fanfic #my writing #stray kids #reading #writeblr #skz headcanons #hyunjin #lee know #bang chan #changbin #stray kids hyung line #skz hyung line #fluff #skz stay #skz fluff #hwang hyunjin

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pasukiyo · 1 year

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𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥. | sebastian sallow.

sebastian sallow x f!ravenclaw reader ; somewhat enemies to lovers 6,546 words warnings; none tbh, a little bit of violence involving trolls i guess lol

“excellent! points to ravenclaw!”

the classroom erupted into a sea of cheers, her lips tugging up into a smile as she watched sebastian sallow dust off his robes from the floor below. she hopped down from the dueling platform, giving her thanks to her fellow pupils as they congratulated her, giving her pats on the back.

“that was really quite extraordinary!” a hufflepuff girl she recognized as poppy sweeting gasped.

“it really was! if you keep this up, perhaps ravenclaw will finally have a chance at winning the house cup this year!” samantha dale, a fellow ravenclaw, squealed, giving her upper arm a squeeze. she laughed, alas, it could only be short lived as she turned her head just in time for sebastian sallow to walk past, making a point of bumping her with his shoulder. she scowled as she stumbled backwards a few steps, turning her head to glare at him.

sebastian reciprocated, “you got lucky, new girl. perhaps next time, you won’t be.”

she narrowed her eyes, “if that was your idea of a proper hogwarts welcome, then it was less than exemplary, i must say.”

for a few beats, they only stood and stared at each other, as if it were a competition on who could out-glare the other.

“alright class, settle down, settle down! back in your seats!” professor hecat’s voice interrupted their silence, and with a hmph, sebastian tilted up his chin and pranced away, making his way back towards his seat beside another slytherin boy, ominis gaunt, if she wasn’t mistaken.

“c‘mon,” a voice whispered to her, a hand grasping her upper arm. it belonged to poppy sweeting, the hufflepuff girl from earlier. she joined her at her side across the room from sebastian, his brow still furrowed and his lips down in a frown, arms crossed over his chest, and she caught his eye once more. he made a point of scoffing before turning away, intent to keep his attention on professor hecat, and professor hecat only.

“don’t mind sebastian,” poppy murmured beside her ear. “he’s just upset that he’s been bested. besides, he’s always arrogant.”

she sneaked another glance over at sebastian from the corner of her eye, a glance in which he didn’t return. she huffed— it was only her first day— how could she have already made an enemy?

and it was only made clear that sebastian’s dislike towards her was going to grow, for even later that day in her first ever charms lesson, he couldn’t hold onto his tongue for more than two minutes. she’d been swift to learn the summoning spell, in fact, she was able to summon the book straight from natsai onai’s hand on her first try.

the scowl on sebastian’s face when professor ronen exclaimed a “spectacular!” and awarded points to ravenclaw certainly did not go unnoticed.

even during a game of summoner’s court in which she had beaten natsai in two rounds, the rest of the class cheered, meanwhile sebastian could do more than glare, turning his head towards his friend ominis, no doubt to mutter insulting things about her into his ear.

ominis could only shift uncomfortably where he stood, furrowing his brows at his friend.

just as she had hopped off of the summoner’s court board, and natsai had given her congratulations, sebastian pranced his way up towards her, a disapproving frown on his face. she cocked an eyebrow at him as he approached, wondering what insult he could possibly throw at her this time.

“seems to me you fancy any chance you can get to show off,” he hissed, and her eyelids narrowed. “what’s wrong with a little fun? do you perhaps feel threatened by me, sebastian sallow?”

she watched the way his jaw tensed at this, and he stepped closer and closer until he was towering above her, looming like a shadow.

“how could i feel threatened by an arrogant little brat like you?”

“come on, sebastian.” she turned to see ominis stalking his way toward them, wand out, a red spark at its end. “i think you’ve given our new fifth year a proper enough hogwarts welcome.”

she pressed her lips tightly together, a comeback on the tip of her tongue yet, somehow still failing to emit. the corner of sebastian’s lips curved up into a smug smirk, more than likely feeling as though her silence was proof of his triumph. he turned to follow ominis back inside the castle, leaving her alone, standing in the grass beside the summoner’s court board.

frustration raged like a wildfire in her chest, and she scoffed, unable to even believe the audacity of this boy she hardly knew. was his ego really so big that he couldn’t accept one little defeat in a class duel?

she huffed as she began to make her way back towards the castle— the truth was, she really hoped it was enough to roughen his ego up, at least just a bit.

he seemed the type that could use a little bit of humbling.

yet, as her first day of classes at hogwarts came to a bit of a rocky end, a wave of relief washed over her— at least she still had her trip to hogsmeade to look forward to. and the best part was— no sebastian sallow.

“i have asked sebastian sallow to accompany you to hogsmeade. he is a very capable young wizard and happens to know the area quite well.”

for a moment, she said nothing, merely blinked.

because surely professor weasley wasn’t talking about the same sebastian sallow she knew?

“and… uhm, he accepted?” she managed, “when you asked him to?”

professor weasley’s brow slightly wrinkled, clearly a bit taken aback by the new student’s hesitation. she didn’t question it however, as she replied, “of course he did. is there a problem?”

“it’s just… surely there’s someone else you can trust.. what about natsai? i met her in charms..”

“miss onai? yes, she is a very capable witch, indeed, and admittedly, was my first choice. but alas, she is busy this evening. i noticed you and mr sallow spending some time together, and i assure you, hogsmeade has a way of bringing people closer together.”

she almost felt sickened by professor weasley’s last words.

“mr sallow is waiting for you, and i’m afraid that the daylight doesn’t last forever.”

and that was that.

she felt dread pang in her ribs which every step she took down the corridors of hogwarts, walking as slow as possible towards where professor weasley had said sebastian was waiting. her first day truly couldn’t have gone any worse— how had she gotten so unlucky?

and her dread seemed to spread like an infection in her chest as she caught her first glimpse of sebastian standing just at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall. perhaps, he hadn’t noticed her yet. perhaps, if she could just sneak by—

“well, if it isn’t hogwarts’ new little celebrity.”

she grimaced at the sound of his voice, because of course he had seen her, and of course he was smirking up at her, daring her to make the descent down the stairs. with her lips pressed together firmly in a thin line, she made her way down the staircase, grumbling with each step. sebastian chuckled at her expression, “happy to see me again so soon?”

her gaze darkened, “shove it, sallow.”

he pursed his lips together and whistled as she pushed her way past the doors, setting foot in the grounds for the first time. she couldn’t even take time to truly appreciate its beauty when she had sebastian sallow right on her tail. “ouch. i’m hurt,” he joked, a hand over his heart. she turned, her glare unbreaking as they marched away from the castle on a foreign dirt path.

“hey.”

she ignored him, in fact, if anything, the sound of his voice made her feet move faster, expanding the gap between them further and further.

“hey!” he shouted again, this time much closer, his hand reached for her shoulder and she stopped. she pivoted around on her heel towards him, not even bothering to mask her irritation. “what?” she practically spat, and he chuckled. “slow down. you don’t even know where you’re going,” he tittered. “that’s what i’m here for, remember?”

she scowled as he took the lead, “i don’t need you,” she grumbled. he raised an eyebrow and turned, walking backwards. “so, i should just leave then?” he asked and she rolled her eyes. “that would make my day. my year, in fact.”

“alright. i can leave,” he shrugged. “leave you all alone to fend for yourself when you take one wrong turn and end up in the midst of the forbidden forest.”

she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek and turned her head, looking anywhere but at sebastian sallow. “you are insufferable,” she mumbled, and he laughed again. “i think you should be saying thank you, actually.”

“oh yeah?” she tittered. “please, enlighten me. what ever should i be thanking you for?” she allowed herself to stare sebastian sallow in the eyes, and she found there was a twinkle in the void in the midst of the earthy soils of his irises. mischief, she wouldn’t doubt. “well, i agreed to accompany you to hogsmeade, didn’t i?” he began, turning back around as they continued forth. “and i’m not leading you into the forest to suffer a painful death either, i think you should have a bit more gratitude for that alone.”

she could only roll her eyes, “piss off.”

“ouch. that one really hurt,” he mocked pain again before flashing a smile back behind him, to which she simply scowled and looked away.

“why did you even agree to come?” she questioned, watching as the trees passed by until eventually, they stopped altogether. she could see a bridge in the distance, mountaintops even further away. “surely you have better things to do.”

sebastian laughed at this, leading her down another branch of dirt path. “and that, my friend, was where you’d be wrong,” he snickered. “i’m not your friend,” she didn’t hesitate to add, but sebastian either did not hear or just didn’t care enough to reply. “if it hadn’t been for weasley’s request, i would’ve been sitting in the librarian’s office right now, writing lines all evening,” he shrugged. “this beats that, if you ask me.”

an eyebrow cocked to her hairline at this, and even the corners of her lips peeled into an amused grin at this. “spend a lot of time in detention, do you?” she chuckled, and he glanced behind him once again. “just enough to keep me well-rounded,” he replied with a wink.

she pursed her lips again and turned away at this— sebastian sallow had a certain charm to him, as much as it pained her to admit it. she thought that perhaps if it weren’t for his insufferable attitude, they might have even made good friends.

“merlin’s beard!” sebastian gasped and she turned, following his finger to wherever he was pointing. “from the forbidden forest! look!” she glared at the tips of his fingers, following his arm all the way back up to the side of his face. “if this is another one of your jokes, sebastian, i’m afraid i won’t be the one to humor your this time,” she chided, and he glanced over to where she stood beside him, his brow furrowed. “i’m being serious! there they are! look!”

with a sigh, she obliged, maybe if she humored him just this once, he’d give it a rest for a little while.

so she turned, and it was when she realized that sebastian sallow was in fact, not trying to jest. her lips fell apart when she gasped as two white creatures emerged from over the top of the trees, their screeches somewhat soft, their wings flapping to make them fly at an impressive speed. hippogriffs, they were— she’d only seen them in books until now.

sebastian noticed the look on her face as she watched them soar through the air, heading for a destination that was only an enigma to the students on the ground below. “quite a sight, isn’t it?” he said warmly, a new tone she’d never heard from him before. but no matter, she tried to strain her neck to see where the hippogriffs were off to before they disappeared behind the castle, flying off towards the horizon. she couldn’t suppress the urge to smile as she turned back towards sebastian, where he too, wore a warm grin, his features soft, the mischievous gleams in his eyes now replaced with warm embers.

“does that happen often?” she inquired. he still stared at her with that same somewhat tender gaze, and she could hear a tiny voice inside of her head admit that she wouldn’t mind seeing this look on his face more often. “no, actually. you certainly don’t see that everyday.”

alas, the warmth from his gaze did not last long as he led them over another bridge, gesturing to the woods to their left. “to our left is the forbidden forest, out of bounds to all students,” he informed. “unless of course, you wish to die the most painful of all deaths. and in that case, you’re more than welcome to be my guest.”

her scowl was quick to return to her face. “thanks a lot, sebastian. i’ll keep that in mind for the next time i have to meet you like this,” she grumbled, and he laughed. “well, that’s one way to say thank you.” she didn’t respond, and he didn’t say anything more. they were walking side by side now, his shoulder every so often brushing hers. she tried creating more distance between them so this wouldn’t happen, but still somehow, his shoulder managed to graze hers.

she wouldn’t doubt he was doing it on purpose to get under her skin.

“ah, you can see hogsmeade just up ahead,” he nodded ahead of them. “just past those ruins.” she could just make out the rooftops of houses up the hill ahead, some of their chimneys released wisps of smoke into the air. they were still a bit of a distance away from the village, yet, she could already feel its warmth. “so, what will you be getting here, anyway?” he asked. “weasley said something about a wand, something about potions..”

“dittany seeds, some spellcrafts, and some potion recipes,” she interrupted as they neared the entrance of the village of hogsmeade. “pretty much everything i lost in the dragon attack.” sebastian pursed his lips at this and nodded, staring off into space. “you know, not everyone experiences dragon attacks. or even dragons, for that matter,” he mused. “wonder what makes you so special.”

her teeth sunk into the flesh of the inside of her cheek at this, and she turned to give him a look, one what made clear to him that she wished to speak no further. he shrugged, “oh well. guess we can’t be sharing all our secrets now, can we?”

neither of them speaked as they passed through the little wooden entrance to hogsmeade, and there, the village unfolded before her. it was unlike anything she’d ever seen— cozier than where she came from in london. it was refreshing, the village seemed to be blanketed in warmth, and there was so much to look at.

“well,” sebastian sighed, and she stopped as he turned in front of her, blocking her path. “that short list of yours gives you plenty of time to poke around the village. i just have to pop in a shop to find something for my sister. meet me in the town square when you’re finished.”

she furrowed her eyebrows at this. sister? he had never mentioned having a sister before, and she certainly had never seen another girl that resembled him at school.

“you have a sister?” she asked, and he nodded in reply. “is she in slytherin too?” his lips twitched, as if they yearned to smile. “yes. or rather, she was.” and for the first time, she could see darkness loom over sebastian sallow’s face, and she guessed that it was a rather sensitive subject. “she’s back home in feldcroft. she’s ill, you see. but she’ll be back soon,” he trailed off as he gazed off towards the other shops. “i’m sure of it,” he added quietly, and for a moment, she almost found it within herself to feel pity for him. she wondered if maybe she should even say sorry, but decided against it.

the last thing she needed was for sebastian sallow to think that she cared.

“well then!” he suddenly exclaimed. “i shall see you soon then?”

she nodded, “sure.”

and with that, they went their separate ways, leaving her alone with her thoughts as she went shop to shop, gathering her school supplies. sebastian sallow was nothing if not a headache, that was for certain. but, she could admit, it was admirable of him to take care of his sister. she could learn to respect him at least a little bit more, although, she was quite uncertain that she was willing to see past much due to his arrogance.

she wondered how ominis even put up with him— ominis seemed sweet enough. of course, she hadn’t seen much of him anyways, but she did appreciate that he had put an end to sebastian’s bickering at charms. she could only hope that her impression on him was true.

her day in hogsmeade couldn’t have gone anymore smoothly— she hadn’t had to worry about sebastian sallow or anything involving ranrok. she had all of the supplies she needed, and unfortunately, that meant that she needed to head to the town square to meet up with her tour guide.

she could already see the mess of brown hair from the middle of the staircase leading up to the square, and when she reached the top, there he was. he seemed to have noticed her right away, his lips curved into a smile as he met her halfway in the middle of the square. she couldn’t help but notice the small group of girls— a group of hufflepuffs— giggle as they watched sebastian pass by, and she had to roll her eyes. could they not see past the pretty smile to see how much of an arse he was?

“found everything alright then?” he asked as he approached, and she nodded with a small hum. “did you find what you needed for your sister?” she couldn’t help but ask, and sebastian’s smile widened, looking proud as ever. “i did, thanks for asking,” he chimed, and she huffed, glancing around the square. “well, i suppose the world is our oyster now,” he sighed, and when she fell under his gaze again, she noticed that same mischievous gleam in his eye. “what do you say we go see what else we can get up to?”

she couldn’t suppress the urge to laugh, “as if. i say we go back to—“

she trailed off as the ground began to rumble, and sebastian’s grin was swift to melt from his face as he turned, the murmurings amongst the villagers beginning to fade. she followed sebastian’s gaze at the source of the noise, her lips falling agape at the creature stomping its way into the village before leaping down onto the stone, hammering his enormous club down with it.

she wondered if perhaps it was just his subconscious acting as sebastian quickly grabbed her arms, tugging her backwards and into safety. there wasn’t much time to make a quick remark, her eyes widening when she took account the armor the troll was wearing. it was enveloped in the same kind of magic she’d seen at gringotts, the same magic she’d seen around ranrok..

her hand slipped down to the pocket in her robe to fetch her wand when the troll turned towards where they stood, and from the corner of her eye, she could see sebastian do the same. they each fired a basic spell cast into the troll’s chest, which seemed to come to no avail. the troll began to advance on them, closer and closer, and sebastian tugged her back, preparing to get them to safety until..

“bombardia!”

the troll roared with pain and staggered before it could hammer its club onto the very place she and sebastian stood, and she averted her gaze from the troll to a place behind him, where a small group of officers were, shouting orders to one another.

the troll turned to follow the officers, and she sighed, her palm slick with sweat where it held her new wand. “well, that’s lucky,” she breathed, but alas, her breath was short lived before it was taken right out of her lungs. she and sebastian turned as another sound permeated the chaos-filled air of hogsmeade, and a building behind them that was once perfectly intact crumbled, yet another troll tumbling from the wreckage. it wore the same armor as the last, the same red-hot fury in its eyes.

her name slipped from sebastian’s lips as the troll attacked, sprinting straight towards her with his club at the ready. she couldn’t tell if it was pure instinct or her adrenaline that led her to roll out of the way just in time to dodge the attack, but no matter— she staggered back onto her feet as the troll’s mouth hung open, a horrid roar emitting.

she glimpsed over at sebastian, his eyebrows knit together and gaze dark in determination. “confringo!” he shouted, and flames erupted from the tip of his wand, the troll roaring in anger. sebastian just barely managed to evade the troll’s fist before she shouted “incendio!” and a short range of fire ensued, the troll staggering back a few steps.

“keep fighting!” she could hear sebastian shout as the troll prepared his next attack. “protego!” she yelped, nearly being smashed by the troll’s club.

as the fight raged on, she couldn’t help but notice how well she and sebastian worked together, as if fighting was some unspoken language between them that only they could understand. somehow, their moves always complemented the other’s next, and it wasn’t long before the troll was down on its knees, weak and uncertain if it could fight any longer.

there was a strange noise coming from somewhere near— her wand?— and she spared a swift glance around. sebastian seemed unable to hear whatever it was she could. something told her to strike, to channel this hidden source of power and use it, so she did— a purple-black blast hit the troll before it could even comprehend what was happening and just like that, it was gone. she eyed the only remains of the troll— purple embers that disappeared as soon as it hit the ground.

sebastian’s lips fell agape and his gaze fleet from where the troll once stood to her, his brow furrowed, unsure of what to think of what just happened. the same officer from before joined them, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.

“goodness! a second troll?” the officer tutted, analyzing the wreckage around them. she blinked and stared down at the stone ground below, unable to fully wrap her brain around what had just happened. of course, she already knew she was capable of somewhat wielding this ancient magic, but she was aware of the full extent of her abilities. she was able to make a troll disappear where he stood— what else could she do?

“did you hear me?” she blinked up at the officer and stole a quick glance over at sebastian, his lips pressed together, and he, too, was searching her face for clues that she was alright. “i asked if you were alright?” she swiftly glimpsed back to the officer, and nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed at the base of her throat. “yes.. yes, sorry. i’m alright. just.. it’s just a bit of a blur right now, i suppose.”

the officer hummed as she scanned her face, as if searching for any injuries, anything she wasn’t telling her. “well, if you are alright, perhaps the two of you wouldn’t mind helping me out a few things back to where they were.” she blinked, “of course,” she and sebastian said in unison, and they watched as the officer walked off, tending to the other villagers.

“well,” sebastian said at last, clasping his hands together and circling around to face her. “can’t say i’ve seen anyone fight like that,” he added, and tilted his head, as if to observe her. “what was that last spell you used anyway? the one that made the troll disappear?” she shook her head, eyeing the damage ahead. “i don’t.. i don’t know,” she replied honestly, murmuring “reparo” beneath her breath to tend to the fallen statue.

neither of them said any more as they tended to the damage, not even when the shopkeeper of the wizardwear store behind them beckoned for them to come in, spoiling them with new free robes.

it was only when they left the shop that sebastian spoke, storing his new robes in a safe place. “well, i’d say we’ve earned a butterbeer or two, wouldn’t you?” he chimed, a cheeriness to his voice despite what had happened just moments before. he must’ve noticed the look on her face, for he shrugged and said, “might help forget that we were almost pulverized by a troll.”

she couldn’t deny it— the idea of butterbeer was enticing, to say the least. “i can’t believe i’m saying this, sallow, but i think i have to agree with you.”

sebastian smiled, “perfect. the three broomsticks is just this way.” they set off for the famed pub, and for a moment, she couldn’t help but feel almost at peace. for really the first time all day, she and sebastian weren’t bickering, weren’t even teasing one another. she dared to say it felt nice.

but of course, that sense of peace and relaxation would only be cut short at the sight of a top hat, and the voice of a certain goblin she had heard only the day before. she and sebastian shared a glance at one another before hiding behind the nearest building, craning their necks to listen in on the conversation below.

and it was then that she realized just how big a predicament she was in. not only ranrok, but victor rookwood, was after her, two of the last people anyone would ever want to be caught up with. sebastian tugged on the back of her robes as the goblin turned his head in their general direction, and she let the slytherin boy pull her away, her heart pounding against her chest.

“do you know who that goblin with victor rookwood was?” he asked as he led her towards the three broomsticks, an eyebrow cocked to his hairline. “ranrok is working with rookwood?” she muttered beneath her breath, and sebastian turned, stopping in his tracks. “ranrok? the goblin from the daily prophet?” he asked, and nodded in reply. “i knew i had seen him somewhere.”

she searched sebastian’s face as he stared at something behind her, grabbing her shoulders before she could turn to see what all the fuss was about. “quickly, inside,” he whispered, dragging her into the three broomsticks, into its dark but somewhat cozy atmosphere. he led her to the only two open seats at the bar, conversing with the bartender, sirona ryan, she’d been able to catch her name. everything else she said was drowned out by her own raging sea of thoughts, but the next thing she knew, two butterbeers were placed before her and sebastian, and she wrapped her hands around the mug as if it were her anchor.

sebastian’s eyes scanned her face with what she guessed was concern, although it was an odd look on him. after all, they didn’t like each other, right?

her mind was racing at a million miles per hour, barely comprehending the fact that victor rookwood had entered the building, or that he was searching for her. everything after that was a blur just as the troll attack had been, and it wasn't long before sebastian was leading her out of the three broomsticks, away from hogsmeade, and back towards the safety of hogwarts.

her first week at hogwarts went by faster than she thought it would, and so did her third, and her fourth. soon enough, her first month at hogwarts was over and for the most part, it was rather uneventful, save for the trips to professor fig’s office. of course, sebastian’s constant teasing and rather cold taunts kept her on her feet with a desire to push herself, to prove herself.

but, as the days went by, she couldn’t help but see more of sebastian’s charm, to see more of that warmth she had seen slip through the cracks of his arrogance in hogsmeade. there was something about sebastian she just couldn’t quite place, something that drew her to him, that made her want to see him more, even when he was being a total and complete arse.

they were sometimes even the highlight of her day, when he’d pass by the ravenclaw table in the great hall and murmur something to her when he passed that she almost couldn’t quite catch, but had all the same. when he’d volunteer to be her partner every chance he got in not only defends against the dark arts, but other classes like charms, transfiguration, et cetera. she found herself spending more time with sebastian than she ever would have thought, and although her mind told her she wanted to keep him at a distance, to push away from his teasing and backhanded comments, her heart was telling her to stay, convincing her that wherever he was, was where she wanted to be.

it was quite frustrating, really. especially when he’d randomly pop into her mind when she wasn’t even with him, like when she was doing homework, or collecting pages for her field guide, or doing the tasks assigned by her professors.

or when thoughts of sebastian seemingly possessed her mind when she walked the halls, making her oblivious to anything and everything around her. even to the boy walking closer and closer and closer until..

crash.

she stumbled backwards, her potions book and ominis gaunt’s wand crashing to the floor, the noise echoing throughout the corridor. a few heads turned their way and watched them with curious eyes as she bent down to pick up her book, grasping ominis’ wand on the way.

“oh merlin, i’m sorry,” ominis apologized, his eyebrows knitted together, cheeks warm with embarrassment. she smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. “it’s alright, ominis. here’s your wand,” she pressed his wand back into his hand, the red spark illuminating the tip once more. her name slipped from his lips, wondering if that was who was in front of her. she nodded, “mhm. in the flesh.”

a small silence ensued, and soon her own cheeks grew warm in embarrassment as she eyed the floor. she and ominis had never really talked much, and in fact, it seemed he wasn’t really the type to talk much anyways. surely he must’ve known more about her than she did him though, as sebastian liked to take any chance he could get to ridicule her, or taunt her.

“you know, sebastian talks about you quite a bit,” ominis tore through the silence like a knife with a comment completely off topic, but to be expected, as the only thing they really had in common was, in fact, sebastian. she rolled her eyes at this, “yeah?” ominis nodded “well, i hope you don’t believe all the awful things he says about me,” she scoffed.

ominis’ brow furrowed and his head tilted, much to her surprise. “awful things?” he asked, and she nodded, unsure what the confusion was about. “yeah. i mean, i can only imagine all the ridiculous things he says about me to you.”

ominis was quiet for a moment, his brow remained furrowed. then he shook his head, “they’re not all awful..” he trailed off, turning away. “but i’m not sure if i should say any more..”

it was then, when ominis turned his head that she noticed him, sebastian sallow, in the flesh, lurking in the shadows behind him. their eyes were quick to meet and sebastian was just as fast to turn, nearly taking out everett clopton as he marched away. she cocked an eyebrow, “um, excuse me ominis. i forget, i have somewhere i need.. to be.”

ominis didn’t seem to mind much as she walked away, picking up her pace to catch up with sebastian, who she could just barely see due to how fast he was running. “sebastian!” she called after him, making even more heads turn than before. why would she be seeking out sebastian sallow anyway? as far as anyone else was concerned, they hated each other.

“sebastian!” she called again as she got closer, his elbow just in reach..

and she caught it, just as he had turned into the hall to the left of the greenhouse, which fortunately, was deserted. sebastian glared as he turned to face her, once again towering over her, his figure like a looming shadow, eclipsing the light peeking in through the windows.

“what do you want?” he asked rather coldly, taking her a bit aback.

“what’s the matter with you?” she questioned, her own eyes narrowing. “you think i wouldn’t notice you trying to eavesdrop on me and ominis? you weren’t exactly being discreet, sallow,” she hissed and his glare deepened. “why would i want to eavesdrop on your conversation?” he inquired and she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“i don’t know, you tell me,” she began. “i can only imagine the things you say about me to him, maybe you were scared i’d say something to your friend that you’d never told him before.” sebastian’s chuckle was bitter in response, huffing as he tore his gaze away from her, staring at the stained glass windows to their right. “that’s ridiculous,” he grumbled and she raised her eyebrows. “is it? is it really?” and he turned back to scowl down at her. “maybe you’re afraid of that big ego of yours getting bruised,” she spat, and sebastian scoffed, as if it were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

“my ego is not big.”

“oh, i’d beg to differ.”

they stood in silence for a few moments, simply standing and glaring at each other, neither of their gazes breaking. “do you eavesdrop on me often?” she asked, and he rolled his eyes as if to say not this again. he turned away and tried to walk away, but of course she was following him— he had gotten under her skin many times, but now, it was her turn to get under his.

“are you just so scared that i’ll say something you don’t want anyone else to know that you—“

she couldn’t even finish her sentence, for he didn’t let her. his hands were unusually warm, soft, gentle as they cupped either side of her face, drawing her near, pressing his lips against hers. and she didn’t reciprocate— of course she didn’t reciprocate when she hardly had time to wrap her head around what was happening.

sebastian pulled away, a rosy tint to his cheeks she hadn’t noticed before, his irises soft, once again drawing her into his earthy soil. her fingers clasped around one of his wrists, the other resting on his elbow as he opened and closed his mouth, searching for the right words.

“i—“ he started, squeezing his eyes shut, uncertain what he should say. “i’m sorry, i—“

“sebastian?”

he blinked back down at her, his features softening when he saw her expression, the same one he had. it was then and only then that she realized she’d been wanting this, this sebastian, this kiss, and she couldn’t think of anything else other than sebastian and his lips. all she knew was that she wanted to feel them on hers again.

“what?”

“kiss me again.”

and so he did. and this time, she kissed back.

the kiss was warm, like the feeling of being beneath a blanket beside the fireplace on a cold winter’s day. the kiss was like magic, but not like regular magic, no. more like the magic she felt that day in hogsmeade when she used the ancient magic to make the troll disappear. just like the feeling she had felt back in ollivander’s when her wand had chosen her, which had felt different but pleasant all the same.

the longer she kissed sebastian sallow, the more she came to realize that all those stupid arguments, the bickering, the teasing, all the taunts and remarks— none of them seemed to matter anymore. not when he was this good at kissing. anything negative she had felt towards him seemed to melt away, becoming irrelevant.

this sebastian was the same one as the sebastian that cared for his sister. that was spending galleons on medicine and anything he could find to treat her. the same sebastian that held her with his hands on her shoulders, pulling her closer to evade getting smashed by a troll’s club.

she realized that he’d been this sebastian all along. all the teasing, the fighting— all of it— a mere coverup for the way he felt. he didn’t know how to handle the feeling he felt the first time he laid eyes on her, when she had been the first one to best him in a duel. so he handled her the only way he knew how.

until now.

they pulled away again, and she took the time to look at him, to really look at him. his lips were swollen with her kiss now, his chest heaving as he chased air back into his lungs, the black void in his irises expanding until there was hardly any more brown left to see. her teeth sunk into the plush of her bottom lip and she smiled, and he smiled back.

“what do we do now?” she asked, breathlessly. sebastian hummed, as if deep in thought. “i think i’d like to keep kissing you.”

and so he did.

her arms wrapped around his neck this time, his hands retreating from her face so that his arms could instead wrap themselves around her waist, pulling her tight against his body. somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if anyone would walk in, but when he kissed her with a little bit more ferocity, she couldn’t bring herself to give a damn if anyone walked in.

well..

“ohoho! how naughty!”

again, she and sebastian broke apart, her arms falling from his neck to his chest, his own remaining around her waist. they both turned to see peeves at their side, tilting his head as if to catch a better look.

“sebastian sallow and his little friend! what a sight to see, indeed!” peeves exclaimed, chuckling. “sebby is snogging the new ravenclaw fifth—“

“oh, piss off peeves, you old git!”

a/n; this turned out way longer than i wanted it to and i don’t know how i feel about it at all but i still hope you enjoy lol

#hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic

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baurbiediv · 1 year

Text

hate to be lame {3}

PAIRING ➔ jj maybank x pogue!reader

WARNING(S) ➔ water being thrown, physical fighting (pushing, punches), screaming match between reader & kiara

SYNOPSIS ➔ you and jj seem to be getting back on track, but when a certain someone is trying to get in between the two of you again? you take matters into your own hands.

SIDE NOTE ➔ wish i could give creds to the gif owner!! if anyone knows who it is, please tag them so i can give rightful creds!! (FUCKK, he looks so good in that gif but then again i felt so bad for him in this scene ://)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➔ once again, i am NOT a kie anti, just for the storyline + LAST PART!!

parts one + two

“i pushed you away because i fucked up. a couple days after the argument, i told kiara everything. my head was everywhere and .. and we made out.”

your own boyfriend pushed you away and made out with not only someone else but of all people, your own best friend. truth be told, you wanted to lash out at him, he knew there were boundaries set and he broke them.

if you were to go do the same thing he did, jj would be looking for the guy and trying to knock his head off backwards right now. but you’d be crowned ‘bitch of the year award’ for going after kiara, but rightfully so, she knew it was wrong.

she knew you and jj were in a bad spot right then and she took that as an opportunity for herself to get what she had wanted.

you never tried anything like that whenever she had her eyes set for someone else because you knew better than that. but now the flip in you was teetering between off and on.

it was a silent night, the faint sound of the water being carried along with the wind was the only thing to be heard, besides the loud cheering of the group.

you ultimately decided to get out of the hot tub and make your way into the chateau hoping that a certain someone would follow you in. “i should go and talk to her.” kiara said as she watched you disappear into the house, sarah looked over at kiara, “just know that if she beats your ass, you deserved it!” cleo said just before laughing. john b, pope, and jj oblivious to the conversation.

sarah snickered before kiara sent her a glare, which caused the blonde to look away before coughing. kiara hopped out the hot tub and trailed into the chateau, seeing your figure in the kitchen.

she took a deep breath, “y/n?” she called out. mentally cursing yourself out, you rolled your eyes, “in the kitchen!” you yelled back before grabbing what you needed. kie approached you with her hands in her back pockets, “look, i know you hate me right now but that might be an understatement, and i don’t blame you for it. i just want to apologize to you, it wasn’t cool and i wanna know if we’re cool.” she said, a slight smile prominent on her face.

you nodded and pushed your tongue into your cheek before throwing water into her face, prompting you to hop off the counter you were sitting on. “you just ‘wanna know if we’re cool?’, you kissed my boyfriend kiara! you of all people should’ve known how incredibly fucked up that is.” you spat back at her, your temper was at an all time high.

you pushed past her and made your way out the chateau. kiara chase you out the house and catching up to you as you were on the steps. without hesitation she pushed you, not rough enough for you to fall but enough for you to merely lose your balance and stumble down the steps.

sarah and cleo had now begun to watch this go down, the two of you telling in the distance. and yet again the boys oblivious to this as the three of them were on the dock talking about whatever had been on their minds.

“what is wrong with you!” kiara yelled as she finally reached you at the bottom of the porch. before your mind could react, your body did it for itself. in a quick second, your fist connected with the left side of her face which send her flying back.

cleo made a ‘damn i know that hurt’ face as sarah quickly looked over at cleo, “i think we should stop them before it gets serious.” sarah said nervously.

cleo just shook her head before laughing, “ah ah, kiara had it coming. look sarah, if some girl did this with john b, you’d do the same thing.” she said patting sarah’s shoulder.

within moments kiara was able to get two hits in, one to your lip, and a scratch across your cheek.

pope now witnessed the two of you in the distance, “guys! look,” pope nearly yelled, pointing over at the chateau, john b and jj who were bickering about something stupid, quickly turned to where pope pointed to.

jj squinted his eyes, “is that y/n and kie?” he said now standing up. the three boys ran up the dock and up to the hot tub where cleo and sarah had now become bystanders to the whole ordeal.

by now you were standing face to face with kiara. you “what’s wrong with me? i’ll tell you what’s wrong with me,”

fists balled up to the point they almost turned white.

“you, my own best fucking friend, went behind my back and made out with my boyfriend. kiara, you had the nerve to sit in my face and never tell me what went down. some fucking friend you are. and you think that magically, y/n will be completely okay with you macking on her boyfriend! wake up and get out of kiaraland. not everything will play into your hand like you want it to.”

you said as your finger nearly pried into her collarbone, making sure she felt and understood every single word that came out of your mouth.

before anyone could say anything else, this moment had flashed before everyone’s eyes. you tackled her and let your fists nearly pummel her face in. john b and jj quickly made their way over to you, jj pried you off of kiara as john b got kiara off the ground.

what a way to end a night.

sitting quietly, in the living room as jj tended to the cuts on your face, “never did i think we’d be doing this the other way around.” jj said as he lightly cracked a smile.

uncontrollably, you also smiled at that. “if i’m gonna be honest, i could’ve slapped you back there, too, but i felt like that would’ve been too much for one night.”

you said looking at jj which prompted him to let out a laugh. “but if i’m gonna be honest, that was really hot.” he admitted, which made you raise an eye brow. “i gotta see that side of you more often,” he said getting all excited.

“it was like something straight out of an action movie, i mean seriously y/n!” he exclaimed as you laughed.

he got up and started mimicking all kinds of different sound effects and started to reenact everything that went down. “you’re such a dork!” you said as you began to laugh.

he plopped back down on the couch and looked at you, “i’m a dork for you and you only y/n.” he said lightheartedly, before placing a kiss on your nose.

“i love you jayj.”

“i love you too y/n.”

#jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj obx #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank

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small-sinclair · 11 months

Text

Only Louisiana Knows

@sketchy-rosewitch, here ya go! Let me know if you want a part 2!

A/B/O Sinclair Brothers x child!reader (platonic)

Contains: reader is not a wolf, mentions child abuse (not by brothers), kidnapper is a Hunter, injured reader, gore, blood, murder, not proofread

Lester was the one to notice something was wrong with you while driving towards Ambrose. He could smell it.

Though, out loud, it sounds odd and not good at all, but it’s true. He knew that the man sitting with you wasn’t the best man or the best father. He knew something was wrong when he saw bruises too big for your little body, and there’s not child-like wonder glowing in your eyes when he started talking to you about the swamp creatures. Lester didn’t like the way the man always eyeing your every move and how he glared at you whenever you answered a question. Lester didn’t like it one bit, and he knew his brothers wouldn’t, too.

He pulled up to the station and parked the truck. “I’ll let Bo know yer here.” He hops out of the truck and headed inside. It’ll be fast, he promises himself. He doesn’t want to leave you alone for long.

“Bo?” He called as he entered the front. “Ya here?”

“Yeah!” Bo answered. He was laying under a car with a light on. The radio on the bench was playing 80s rock. “Jus’ a sec!” He pushed himself out front underneath and stands, wiping his hands on his pants, turning the radio off. “Yes, Les?”

“We gotta ourselves a child beater,” Lester answered, stepping in the garage so you and your father don’t hear. In the corner, Vincent closes his sketch book and stands off his stool. He tilted his head a little and nodded Lester to go on. "He has a kid wit'im... a youngling."

Bo stiffened as he crossed his arms. "Did you see anything on the child?"

"Bo, you can smell it."

Bo lifted a brow then looked at Vincent, who shrugged, then back at Lester. "Le’me meet him. I bet I could figure him out." As soon as he finished saying those words, the bell to the door open and closed. The smell of burnt leaves and cedar filled the air, but the sweet scent of cherry and vanilla followed. "I'll be righ' there!" Bo shouted as he tossed the rag to the side. "Vince, head to the basement and listen close if I need ya."

He gets a nod from the other alpha and slips away towards the tunnels underground. He spares a glance before leaving, clicking the door behind him softly.

Lester led the way out as Bo followed, fixing his hat as he walked. Standing by the front door, Bo saw the man and tried to to recoil at the smell. Lester was right: it didn't smell right nor look good. He didn't like how the man kept the child close, and he didn't like how the kid didn't look at anything or tried to talk. What is the kid? Four or something? When he was that age, you could never shut him up! Still, Bo gave a nod at man along with a welcoming grin. If he could figure the man out and get him far away from the kid, that'll be the best for both him and the town. He doesn't want a child beater part of his mother's dream, her waxed pack.

"Apologies for the wait," Bo said. "What can I do for ya?"

"Car blew a flat," the man said. Shit, even the way he talks and the smell of his breath made Bo want to throw-up. "Me and my kid need to get going soon."

"Of course," Bo nodded. "Les? Get the keys to the tow and bring the car. I can see what I can do." He turned to the side and opened his arm. "I have some tires back here if ya wanna see 'em? Easier for you to pick, ya know?"

Lester takes the keys off the hook and looks back at Bo with a concerned look. Bo waved him off shyly, giving him the reassurance that everything will be okay. Bo wasn't going to do anything to the kid, to you.

You stood still as you hugged your stuffed gray wolf closer to your chest. The mechanic held out his hand towards your father and said, "Name's Bo."

"Harry," he shook Bo's hand. "Look, I don't mean to come off as a bother but--"

"No bother at all, sir," Bo flashed an award-winning smile. "Was just fixin' t'breaklines on a car." Then he turned his attention towards you. "Does jounir wanna sucker? I got som' lollies."

He seemed to be asking you and not your father, but you know better than to talk. As much as you want to say yes, you saw the glare form your father and shook your head. You didn't want to be more in trouble than you have to be.

"Okay, kiddo," Bo said, turning on his heels. "The kid c'n stay up here. Shop's too messy for a kid to be walkin' around." Then Bo turned to you and nodded at a chair. Gladly, you took your seat. After climbing up, sat your stuffed wolf, named Wolfie, next to you. Bo smiled slightly then turned back to your father. "Come 'is way."

As Bo and your father left, your legs dangled over the chair, so you started kicking in the air and hugged Wolfie.

He's not really your father, Harry. You know he's not because you were taken from your real parents as payment for something. But he turned around and burned them alive for drinking out of people's necks. You don't do that, but Harry doesn't believe that. He's been referred to as a "hunter", but he doesn't hunt deer or animals... well, he does hunt wolves and people that drink from necks.

It's confusing and hard to follow what he does, so you don't ask. In fact, you don't talk unless he tells you to. Maybe he's scared you'll tell people about the cross-bow in the trunk of his car or about the packets of wolf's bane hidden under the seat? Who's to say, really.

You made Wolfie dance over your knees when you heard your father yelling and something falling to the ground. You hugged Wolfie close to your chest as you slowly slipped off the chair and looked into the doorway. You saw harry with a wrench trying to hurt Bo while Bo...

Bo didn't look the same.

His shirt was ripped as fur stuck out. His blue eyes were brighter and burned in flames of anger. His face was getting longer and larger like his hands and fingers. You watched as his nails grew into claws like a bear as wolf ears poked out of his hair. He pushed Harry back with a long, black and brown tail. You heard his clothing tear and rip until there was nothing left. Bo wasn't a human. He stood tall and proud as a wolf... a werewolf.

You and your stuffie turned, and you bolted out the door as you heard his howl and an echo of a growl, but you didn't go far. You forgot to tie your shoes and tripped on the laces. You fell on face forward and tried to scramble to get away, but you felt a shadow creep over you. Looking up, you saw another werewolf with black thick fur, but it was miss half its face and ear. It looked down at you then leapt over your trembling body through the glass door window. You let out a scream and covered your head.

It's just a dream It's just a bad dream!

Then you heard Harry's cry of agony and death. You heard snarls and growls ripping through Harry’s skin. Then his gun fired, hitting one of them.

Before you knew it, you were scooped up by a large claw and carried away to the other side of the road. The one with one eye and ear placed you down and stood on all fours protectively, it’s fur standing.

Barking loudly, Vincent snarled as it glared forward. How fucking dare he come to his home, to his town, and threaten his family with a gun! It dared to harm you? Hurt you just for being there!? No. Not on his watch. He growled as Harry limped out of the station. He glared at you and the wolf and raised his gun—

“No!” You pushed through the other wolf and opened your arms. “Stop—!”

Stupid child.

****************

Lester bright the broken car home, but he was speeding the whole way through. He heard the gun shot clear as day and felt his heart tear apart. He pressed on the gas and drove until he couldn’t no more. He parked the car and leapt out of the driver’s seat. The transformation is normal painful, but he found through the pain and was running the rest of the way. He didn’t stop until he saw the child laying behind Vincent as Bo attacked the hunter from behind.

Lester could smell blood as soon as he raced down the gravel road. He watched as Vincent lunged at the man’s chest while Bo aimed for his throat. He heard the cracking of bones and skin ripping, but he didn’t see you move. He grit his teeth as he narrowed in on the hunter and jumped high enough to land on top of his arm.

You heard his body being torn apart violent until there was nothing left of him. You curled up into a ball and clinched Wolfie tighter as you started crying in the fur, flinching at their victory howls over the killed hunter, over Harry.

Lester pushed the body away and rushed towards the curled up child. His pants were ripped as changed back to normal. “Bo! First-aid, now!” He shouted as he slid on his knees next to you. “Kid? Kiddo!?” He glanced over his shoulder then back at you. Letting out a frustrated yell, he picked you up and ran into the station.

***********

The first thing you felt when you woke up was something soft and warm like fur. Looking up, you found the full-face wolf under you, sleeping soundly with its tail wrapped around you protectively. Panic surged through your body as you pushed yourself up for the wolf, waking it up in the process.

You fell on your back as burning pain from your leg grew like weeds in the summer. It shot up through your little body as you scrambled away from it. You put your arms around your head as you curled into a ball.

“Don’t hurt me! Please!” Fat tears fell from your eyes as you cried out, “Mama! Mama! Papa!” You knew your parents weren’t there anymore. Harry wasn’t there anymore. You were alone. Truly and forever alone. “Wolfe! Where’s-where’s Wolfie!?” Then you peeled through your hands and saw the half-faced wolf inching closer to you. “Papa! Papa, help!”

Bo’s ears lowered as a high-pitched whine escaped. He doesn’t whine. He never does. But hearing you call out for someone that’s gone… what did that hunter do to you? He didn’t like this one bit, but he knew what had to be done. You are a child, a kid… his kid. Vincent’s kid. Lester’s kid. Their child.

You heard nails tapping on the ground and pattering of paws coming closer to you. Then your arm was nudged by a nose. A dog's nose. you opened your eyes and met the brightest blue eyes and blackest fur you've ever seen. The werewolf lowered himself down onto his stomach and whimpered softly as he nudged your arm again. He digs his nose under your arm until your arm was resting on his neck. His blue eyes were hurt and sorry as if he felt your pain.

From behind, the other joined as well. The wolf lowered himself on the floor next to you and curled around you like like a dragon protecting its hoard, its tail covering you like a blanket. It whimpered like the other did as it came closer to you. It’s burning blue and green eye focused on you and your fears. How Vincent wished to take away your pain.

Lester’s feet hurried over the wooden steps but slowed when he saw his brothers and you together. He softened as he came towards the little pile, but slowed when Bo glared at him as if he did something wrong. So he knelt besides Vincent and offered a friendly smile. “Heya, sweetness,” his voice was so light and careful. “How ya feelin’?”

All he got from you was a chocked out sob and a cry.

“Yeah, I reckon much,” he sighed sadly. “But, hey, listen,” he made sure to move so you’re right in eye sight of him. “I patched up your stuffy an’ washed it good.”

“Wolfie?” You murmured hopefully.

He nods. “Yes. Wolfie is okay. Jus’ hang dryin’.” He looked between his brothers and back at you. “Do ya wanna sleep somewhere more comfortable? Made a bed for ya.”

“Wolfie?”

“Yes, little bit,” he chuckles. “Wolfie will be there.”

Bo nudged his head against yours as if he’s reassuring you. What else can you do? Nodding, you allowed Lester to pick you up. He was gentle enough so your leg doesn’t start bleeding.

Bo and Vincent followed Lester but stopped at the bottom of the steps. Mama never liked it when they went upstairs with dirty paws. Hold habits die hard with the Sinclairs. Vincent laid on his paws and watched as his little brother and you disappeared. Tonight was on him, and he’ll never forget it.

As the night went on, Lester didn’t leave your side. He slept at the old writing desk in the broken chair he knew throw out. Vincent stayed at the bottom of the steps and slowly came back to human with ripped clothing and torn shoes, maskless. The two stayed at the house with you while Bo took care of Harry.

He took his body and filled his ripped stomach with stones until it sank in the swamp with the gators. Before he did that, he took his hunter’s ring and notebook in his back pocket. The little black box was filled with names and addresses of other hunters, and that made Bo smile wide. He stood over the torn body and took a few photos to send to the hunter cove as a warning to stay away from Ambrose, but he hoped they came. He wanted blood for what he did to that child. He wanted their hearts in his jaw. Bo wanted to make them fear him—

Then he thought of you and how you curled closed to him. He thought about how small you were and how light and shy your eyes are. Bo sighs to himself and shakes his head. He’ll be a father a true father to you, but he’ll be damned if anyone came close to you. He sunk the body into the water and rowed back to shore. He stepped out and dragged the boat on land. He knelt down and washed the blood off his hands in the blessed swamp waters.

No one will find him. It’ll be between him, the swamp, and the other spirits that haunt these waters.

Only Louisiana and her ruby fields will ever know.

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toasttt11 · 23 days

Text

leaving

April 6, 2023

Lucia sat down on her stall running a hand against her braid crown, she let out a breath and started getting ready for the game, a game that could be her last game with Michigan ever.

She slipped her jersey on and grabbed her gloves standing up and swallowed feeling her stomach turning, she played important games before many times but this game was getting to her. Maybe it was the pressure of getting Michigan to the finals or if they lose she was going straight to New Jersey and signing with the Devils and leaving behind her collegiate career and all of her teammates.

She took a deep breath and pushed back all the emotion as she stepped onto the ice.

The game started and quickly once it started Quinnipiac scored but not even a minute after Seamus scored making the score back to a tie. But it didn’t last long as Quinnipiac scored once more before the period was over.

Lucia felt uneasy as she stepped off the ice and down the tunnel, she excused herself and rushed into the bathroom and quickly kneeling down just in time for her to puke into the toilet.

Lucia heaved as she tried to catch her breath and rested her forhead on her arm closing her eyes for a few seconds before she stood up and wiped her face off.

She walked to the sink and splashed her face with water and looked into the mirror seeing how sickly pale she was and the dark circles under her eyes, she took a deep breath and reminded herself that this is her dream is to play hockey.

Lucia walked out of the bathroom and joined her team in the locker room for the rest of the intermission.

Lucia bumped her helmet against Dylan’s like they do in most games before hopping onto the ice waiting for the second period to start.

Rutger passed the puck back to Luica, who quickly passed it to Adam, Adam scored.

Second period ended 2-2.

The third period started and Lucia could feel how tense she was and tried to take deep breath to relax before she hopped onto the ice starting her first shift.

Quinnipiac scored only one minute in, leaving Michigan dejected and it onto got worse as they scored once more. And once more.

Michigan lost to Quinnipiac 2-5.

Lucia barely stepped onto the ice before she was grabbing the trash bucket and puking for the fourth time that day, she felt her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

Ethan and Dylan both quickly stood around her making sure the cameras and fans couldn’t see her puking.

Mark looked worried and quickly walked over gently rubbed her back as Dylan pushed her bangs out of her face and Ethan grabbed a towel for her.

Lucia toon a deep breath and took the towel wiping her face before standing straight, she gave the three a reassuring nod as they had to get back on the ice for awards.

Lucia could barely remember how long she stood with the team on the ice and when they walked back to the locker room, she sat stoically at her stall as she started taking off her gear.

Luica nodded to whatever her coach was telling them, she was to out of it to even comprehend what he was saying.

Lucia slowly shuffled to the shower and looked completely out of it and barely paying attention as she slipped out of her clothes and got underneath the steaming hot water.

Lucia let out a breath as she felt the start running down her and leaned her head back resting it on the wall and closing her eyes for a few minutes.

Lucia knew she couldn’t hide out in shower for ever and eventually shut the water off and slipped on a pair of black sweatpants and black long sleeve, she put on her favorite white nike shoes and just brushed out her hair letting it be down and just naturally start curling as she had no patience or anything in her to braid and do her hair.

She walked out of her shower and saw Mackie waiting outside it for her, “What are you?” Lucia started to ask but couldn’t finish as Mackie leaned towards her and cupped her face pressing his lips against hers desperately.

Lucia softened and ran her hands through his wet hair as she kissed him just as desperately back.

“Just wanted to say bye privately before you left.” Mackie mumbled against her lips explaining his actions.

Lucia just nodded, she wanted to ask if they were stopping their friends with benefits but knew emotionally she couldn’t do that right then.

Luica and Mackie walked back into the locker room and Lucia pursed her lips sadly as she saw her bags all packed up at her stall for her.

Gavin and Seamus shared a look and lunged forward hugging her tightly, “We are still your favorites right?” Gavin mumbled.

“Sshh it’s a secert.” Lucia whispered back hugging both of them she looked over at Frank and opened up one of her arms and he quickly came over hugging her tightly with Gavin and Seamus.

Lucia turned to the two brothers and gave them a soft smile and they both quickly pulled her into a group hug.

Adam tightly hugged her and buried his face in her shoulder and Luca rested his head on top of her shoulder.

Lucia let them go and turned to Rutger and he sadly smiled and pulled her into a tight hug, “Thanks bud.” Rutger mumbled remembering all the times Lucia spent with him practicing on the ice with him when she didn’t have to.

Lucia just squeezed him tightly back and turned to Tj, She smiled softly and they did their handshake before he pulled her into a hug.

“We will see you soon Hughes.” Tj whispered to her.

“I know Hughes.” Lucia whispered back. She let go and looked at her next teammates.

Jacob and Keaton shared a looked and pulled her into a group hug. Lucia hugged the two back before they let her go.

Lucia walked over to Philippe and Steven who quickly pulled her into another group hug and swayed her back and forth.

Lucia let them go and turned to Nolan, “Bye Cap.” Lucia mumbled into the hug.

“See you soon little Hughes.” Nolan softly mumbled hugging her gently before letting her go.

Lucia turned to her group and softly smiled at them, Mark and Ethan both quickly lunged forward and pulled her into a tight hug. Lucia hugged both of them just as tightly back, she rested her head on Ethan’s shoulder and closed her eyes hugging them tighter.

Lucia slowly released them and gave them a sad look before looking at Mackie and gave him a wobbly smile, Mackie sadly smiled and gently pulled her into a hug, he hand cupping the back of her head and holding her close.

Lucia blinked harshly and sniffed pulling away from the hug and turned to the hardest goodbye, her best friend.

Dylan and Luke looked at each other sadly before they both lunged forward hugging each other. Lucia let out a wobbly sigh as she hugged her best friend and for the first time in years she wouldn’t be living with him anymore nor would she be playing together with him.

“Have fun.” Dylan mumbled his voice cracking with emotion before they both reluctantly let go of each other.

Lucia grabbed her bags and gave her team one more look and probably the last time she will ever see them all together again, she turned around and walked out of the locker room and away from her past.

Lucia said many goodbyes as she walked through the arena. She finally got to the parking lot where a car was waiting for her and she put her bags into the car and the driver quickly started the drive to the airport.

Lucia let out a sad sigh leaning her forhead on the cool class of the window and closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

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strawberry-whorecake · 10 months

Text

Routine | F.Z.

pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader

summary: Flip knew better than to feel the way he did about you-- Chief Bridges' daughter-- but he couldn't help himself. When it came down to it, he was nothing more than a man, and you were a gorgeous woman... what the chief didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: age gap (reader is of age), slight power dynamic, PinV sex, fingering, unprotected sex, public sex (kinda??), almost getting caught, swearing, dirty talk, praise, degrading

A/N: aaaaaaaahhh my first smut on here- god i hope its good... pls let me know your thoughts all feedback is greatly appreciated !! Plot credit goes to direnightshade on AO3 from their "Flip Zimmerman Prompts" collection, i read it and was immediately obsessed and needed to turn it into a fic so full credit goes to them!!

Flip could tell you were around from a mile away. Everybody from the detectives to the officers perked up when you were around, even if it was forced.

"Afternoon Ron, hey! Cool shirt, super fly." you giggled. "Hey Jimmy," your eyes fell on him, "Flip."

He nodded his head, gently clearing his throat as he straightened up, "Afternoon." His gaze drifted down your frame, moving from your eyes, down the fabric of your dress before he found himself looking at the plush of your thighs just beneath the hem of your dress.

He forced his eyes to the case file in his hands, only indulging himself when you turned away to head into the chief's office— watching as your hips would sway with every step you took.

Flip hated when you came into the station, or more specifically, he hated the thoughts he had when you came into the station. He hated the way your perfume lingered in the air even when you were no longer in the room, and that utterly gorgeous smile you were always so keen on flashing him.

But most of all, he hated the way his jeans felt entirely too tight when you were around and the way he couldn't contain his excitement to catch you alone because he knew what would always follow.

He listened intently as your fist rapped on the door, getting the okay from the chief the door creaked open and you greeted yourself as you entered. "Hi Daddy! You forgot your lunch again." The rest of your conversation got muddled over the chatter from the office, and Flip begrudgingly focused his attention back on the case file.

"No problem, I'll see you back at home!" Flip caught your goodbyes and hopped up, file under his arm as he swiftly exited the office accidentally—purposefully— bumping into you as you closed the chief's door behind you, unabashedly pressing his hips to your ass.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" you immediately apologized in a sickly sweet tone as you turned to face him, even though it was completely Flip's fault. "Oh, no, that was my bad." he shook his head softly. His heart pounded against his chest as you bid him one of your award winning smiles, seeing the relief wash over you that it was only him. "So how's detective's work treating you, Flip?"

He eyed you for a moment, he was certain you surely weren't interested in hearing about his job. He knew what you were more interested in, and he was more than willing to indulge you. Just being so close to you he couldn't contain himself. "You ever seen the records' room?" he asked.

Your brows raised as your eyes widened, and you peered over both of your shoulders. "There's no polite greetings with you, is there?" A smirk pulled on Flip's mouth as you scoffed a laugh, "You make a habit of dropping off your dad's lunch once a week, the outcome always ends up being the same."

He reached around you, pushing open the door to the record's room. He didn't speak, but his brows raised, urging you in. To his relief the room was empty. He watched as your hips swayed again, walking in front of him into the room, he could hardly wait to dig his fingers into the skin of your thighs.

You stopped halfway in the room, beckoning him with your finger. He risked a quick glance over his shoulders before stepping in and shutting the door behind him. He tossed the file haphazardly on the desk, grabbing you by the waist and pinning you against the back of the door. You gasped as his lips crashed into yours. This was routine with you two, but his force never not managed to take you by surprise.

He wasted no time running his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entry into your mouth which you happily granted him. He sloppily explored every area of your mouth with his tongue, pressing his hips into yours as you whined into his mouth.

Your hands clutched at the fabric of his flannel as his fingers ran up and down your sides. He teased at the hem of your dress before running a thick finger over your clothed slit, making you moan against his lips.

“Flip…” you whimpered as he pulled away from your lips to place open mouthed kisses down your neck, his fingers continuing to tease your clothed cunt.

“Shh… you don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to in here, do you?” He hummed against your neck as he pulled away enough to look up at you, watching as your teeth clamped down on your lip to conceal the sounds of your pleasure— much to his annoyance as he wanted nothing more than to hear make those beautiful little noises and listen to you scream his name as he made you feel so good. When you shook your head he hummed again, “Good girl.”

His lips found their way to that spot in the crook of your neck that made you purr like a kitten when he caressed it with his tongue. Your fingers grazed upward and tangled around his neck, clutching at the raven waves of his hair. When you tugged gently on his strands he let out a low groan, pressing his hips into yours again, and allowed himself to sneak his fingers into the waistband of your underwear.

“Fuuuck…” he groaned, pulling away from your neck. “Am I the one who makes you this wet?” he teased, running his index and middle finger between your folks and gathered your slick. He looked up to your eyes, intimidating you as he watched you bite harder on your lip and timidly nod your head.

He leaned in, pressing his face close to yours as he whispered in your ear, his voice gruff that he nearly growled his words, “What would the chief think knowing his perfect little girl is such a little slut?”

As he spoke he sheathed his index finger inside you, making you mewl, which he quickly covered up by smashing his lips to yours and swallowing down your moans.

He pumped his finger in and out of you, stretching you out on his thick digit, “Always so tight…” he groaned, pressing his lips against your neck again, finding that spot once again. "We're gonna have to work you up to fitting me... you know that."

Your fingers gently scratched at his scalp and he groaned against your skin. He couldn't wait to get you on his cock but he knew he'd split you in two if he let his fervor get the best of him. He pulled away from your neck, studying your face as he inserted another finger.

He watched in awe at the way your eyes pinched shut, brows knitting together as he felt your walls clamp around him. He curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that made your thighs tremble and you whined out for him again, making him press his lips to yours to stifle your noises.

His tongue sloppily prodded against yours, groaning softly as you whimpered into his mouth, using his fingers to beckon your orgasm closer— his dick fighting with the tightness of his jeans as he bucked his hips into yours again, desperate for friction.

"Flip- please... n-need you..." you whined. Flip huffed, "Needy little thing, aren't you?" He mumbled against your jaw. "Tell me what you want."

"You-" you squeaked, suddenly shy. His fingers dragged slowly out of your cunt drawing a moan out of your throat as he smirked. "No, use your words." He plunged his fingers back inside of you, making you gasp and speak hurriedly, "Your dick! I need your dick inside me!"

His smirk broadened. "Good girl."

Flip loved knowing how he drove you to this state. Your father of course would have Flip's head if he knew the truth— knew that once a week he found every excuse to bury himself deep inside your cunt, that he was whoring out the chief's daughter, but god, could Flip only look forward to your weekly meetings.

He withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact. Flip couldn't stop himself from chuckling at your desperation as he pulled you by the waist deeper into the records' room. The clack of his belt buckle coming undone between the aisles of boxes made your need for him grow incredibly.

You watched as he pulled out his cock, his tip angry and red, leaking precum, just as desperate for you as you were for him. You moaned at the sight of him taking himself in his hand and spreading his precum along his length— and much louder than Flip's comfort level. He clamped his free hand over your mouth, "You've got to be quiet, you want the whole station to know you're such a little whore for me?" he studied your expression as you shook your head.

He withdrew his hand and hiked up your dress, grabbing hold of your thigh, and pinning it to his waist as he slid your panties to the side. You pinched your eyes shut preparing for the bittersweet sting as he aligned himself with your entrance. "No- eyes on me." he ordered.

You obeyed, opening your eyes and looking into his as he sheathed just the tip of his dick inside you. It took all of his self restraint to not plunge completely into you, split you open, and god knows the way your walls squeezed and drew him in he wanted to more than anything, but he offered you the decency of allowing you to adjust to his thick size.

"Fuck-" he groaned, "even your sweet little cunt is so needy for me." You whimpered at his words, trying to grind yourself deeper onto him.

With your okay he finally thrust himself in fully, he watched again as your brows knit and your perfect lips fell open into the most adorable 'o' shape. He fought every urge to pull out and slam back into you, and he occupied his time with your neck again, trailing more sloppy kisses on your skin.

He growled lowly as he withdrew from you, slowly sliding his way back inside of you. He thrust inside you a few times, your eyes fluttering shut at his movements. He didn't mind, he was too preoccupied watching his cock slide in and out of your perfect pussy. He loved the way you swallowed him up— took all of him flawlessly. He often indulged himself with the thought that your cunt was made just for him.

"Flip-" you whimpered. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, looking over your expression once again. His fingers dug into the plush of your thigh, leaving small crescent-shaped indents in your flesh as he hiked your leg up.

"Jump." he instructed. You furrowed your brows in confusion, but his expression didn't let you linger on the feeling as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he hoisted you up, wrapping his elbows under your knees— pinning you against the shelf behind you.

At this angle, Flip was able to bury himself impossibly deeper inside you, prodding the firm, silky surface of your cervix with his tip. He groaned, burying his head in the crook of your neck as he rocked into you. You were barely legible, descended into nothing but gasps for breaths and moans as he slammed his hips into yours.

He pulled away from your neck, looking into your eyes, "I want you to look at me when you cum, do you understand?" He searched your gaze hungrily, he needed to watch you as you came undone, needed to watch the way your chin would tremble and your brows would knit so tightly together. You nodded, unable to speak with the way he filled you so full.

His size alone was sending you reeling toward bliss, that tight knot in your stomach growing incredulously tighter with every thrust. The only sounds were the obscene noises of skin slapping together and the moans spilling from your throat until the door creaked open.

You gasped as Flip's head flew in the direction of the door, holding you up astonishingly with one of his strong arms as the other flew to clamp over your mouth. He leaned in closer, hissing a silent warning to you.

The footsteps grew nearer and he knew he should've immediately stopped— but he couldn't find the restraint to. He balanced you between his arm and the shelf as he withdrew his hips before thrusting in again, clamping his hand down tighter over your lips as you breathed hotly against his palm. You wanted to make him stop, the fear of being caught too overwhelming, but fuck, was the threat only turning you on more.

His eyes looked into yours warningly as he withdrew his hand, lowering it to your clit where he began to draw tight, quick circles. You bit down on his shoulder, not trusting yourself enough to not moan out as he continued pounding inside you, his pace growing frantic.

He kept his face close to yours, his own breaths growing ragged as he tried his damnedest to breathe out of his nose to stifle his own groans that bubbled in his throat.

Flip couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed when the footsteps descended and the door opened before shutting again— leaving the two of you alone.

"Fuck-!" He groaned into your shoulder, his fingers drawing sloppier circles around your clit as his hips began to stutter. "F-Flip-" you panted out, "I-I’m-"

He nudged your cheek with his angular nose, making you look at him. "Remember the rules- look at me while you cum on my cock." he huffed. You bit down on your lip as you nodded, his eyes glued to your expression behind his own furrowed and focused brows. Your mouth fell into that perfect 'o' once more, and you could barely keep your eyes on him as your back arched and he watched you fall apart before him.

He watched as your perfect eyes rolled back, his hips and fingers never stilling as they worked you through your orgasm. Your walls stroked him, pulling him closer to his own ecstasy. "F-Fuck-!"

He buried his face in your shoulder, erupting in expletives and groans as your cunt throbbed around him, milking him, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. "Fuuuck..." he huffed once more as he buried himself as deeply inside you as he could, spilling his release.

He felt your thighs tremble and he quickly brought his arm to steady you once again as he pumped his hips a few more times, finishing off his high despite your small whimpers of protest in overstimulation.

He pulled away from your shoulder, unsheathing himself from you as he carefully lowered you to the ground, supporting your wobbling legs with a strong grip as you both fought to regain your breaths.

He created a little bit of distance from you as he tucked himself back into his pants, watching as you straightened your own clothing out. When your eyes met his he swept back in, colliding his lips to yours.

You pulled away from the kiss first, much to Flip's disgruntlement. "We should go... that was already a close enough call." You spoke breathlessly, still working on steadying your breath. He sighed, running a hand through his hair before nodding. "Yeah, I'll make sure it's all clear."

He turned out of the aisles knowing you were following close behind him. He peered through the hazy glass looking for a sign of anyone— which thankfully the hall seemed to be deserted. With a gulp of a breath he pulled open the door.

With no one around he beckoned his hand, watching as you slipped past him out the door. He watched once more as your hips swayed with every step, a smirk curling on his lips again.

"Same time next week?" He called, making you spin around on your heel to shoot him a warning glare. His smirk broadened as he bit down on his tongue. "See you then, Bridges."

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