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jeonginsleftcheek · 7 months ago

Text

Dolly

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

synopsis: you feel lonely and buy a new sex doll on the market, not knowing what you got yourself into.

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

word count: 10.3k

warnings: alcohol, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), squirting, creampies

a/n: spooktober continues🤭🫶🏻 if u love black mirror, these are vibes for u! also i'm sorry if the ending seems rushed but i have two more things to write for hyunjin before i continue with my spooktober🫠

!!! this fic has an ambiguous ending

~ divider by @bunnysrph

~ Masterlist

~ Dolly masterlist

Your cursor hovers over the 'continue to payment' button.

Are you really doing this?

It's embarassing enough that you can't get a date lately, and everyone around you keeps bugging you about it, asking when you're going to find a partner already.

Like you need one. You were perfectly fine alone.

But everyone has needs, and the ad for the new sex dolls that have just come out on the market looked enticing.

Each one of the new models was a unique one, only one of them made as it was sort of a trial run for them and your attention was captured by Hyunjin, the romantic doll.

It was expensive too, but you had money saved up on the side and thought, why not get something for your pleasure and try something new as well.

'Fuck it!', you thought and clicked on the button, purchasing the doll; there was no going back now.

Eagerly, you awaited the day it would be delivered to your door and three weeks later, there was a big box in the middle of your living room.

Biting on your lip, you stare at the box as your heartbeat quickens.

In the pictures, it looked so real. Like it was a real human being and to say you were a bit disturbed was an understatement.

But as freaky as it was, you were still so curios about it so you opened up the box slowly, your eyes wide for the peculiarity of it all. There were covers neatly placed over the doll, and bubble wrap just about everywhere, but on top of it all was a letter.

You opened it up and it read;

Hello,

my name is Hyunjin and I am your romantic doll.

I love art, good food and wine, long walks on the beach and heartwarming movies.

Please, treat me with great care as I am sensitive, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with cuddles.

Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.

As you read that, you couldn't help being a little freaked out by the doll professing his love to you, but you had to remind yourself it's just the creators of it who wrote the letter, making the concept more real and human to give some kind of comfort to the buyer and personality to the doll.

Taking a deep breath, you remove all the bubble wrap and slide off the cover.

"Oh." you gasp loudly, your hand slapped on your mouth as you finally see the doll.

He looks too real to be just a doll and for a second you just stare into his eyes, unmoving but somehow warm, his facial features chiseled to perfection, his lips plump and inviting.

Your eyes travel down to see he was dressed in a nice button up, intricate flower patterns sewn into the material, coupled with nice pants and even some very expensive looking shoes.

The doll had jewelry on, his nails were painted, there was so much detail on it; he even had a mole under his eye. You marvelled at the dedication of the people who made it and obviously put a lot of though into Hyunjin.

You notice then that there is a note sticking out of the shirt's pocket and you carefully pick it up.

My love!

I got dressed for our first date!

Hopefully you like it and enjoy our first romantic night together.

"Wow, they really went all out with this." you say out loud as you look at the doll, the next question forming in your mind.

How heavy is the doll?

You spend a few more minutes just examining it with your eyes, too nervous to touch it and you can't get over the way it looks just like a real human being.

You rest your hand on the box, your fingertips gently grazing the doll's cheek.

"Oh!" you gasp, retracting your hand. It feels like real skin and with wide eyes your hand moves closer to his face again, your palm pressing slowly against his cheek.

"Are you alive?" you chuckle to yourself but the doll doesn't answer or move at all, just as you expected.

Your fingers slowly explore the doll's face, his lips are plushy and they seem actually kissable, the material they used, whatever it was, made it seem like they were real human lips.

You lean in closer to take a better look into his eyes, your hand coming up to play with locks of dark hair, which again, seems like real hair, the little curls are soft to the touch and bounce back as you pull on them gently.

Now you're leaning so close to him, and you can smell the nice, comforting scent radiating off of the doll. You've no idea what they used, but he smells fresh and flowery.

"Okay, let's get you out of the box." you lean back and hook your hands under the doll's arms before making it sit up.

His head falls to the side a little, making you feel a bit creeped out because it really seemed like you were handling a dead person instead of an actual doll, but the only indication that it wasn't a dead human is the lightness of it.

He wasn't as light as a feather but he wasn't as heavy as dead weight either.

"Maybe the couch?" you talk to yourself as you look over to your comfy couch, the pillows fluffed up already and a soft blanket thrown over it.

Somehow, thankfully to your regular exercise, you manage to lift the doll into your arms and carry him to the couch.

The way he slumps when you put him down, again freaks you out a little, but for some weird reason you're even more interested in how you can actually use the doll.

You prop him to sit nicely and turn on the tv to some art channel, remembering how the doll 'said' that he likes art.

"I hope that's what you enjoy." you shrug and throw the fluffy blanket over the doll's legs, folding his soft hands into his lap, before you go back to the box to find the manual.

"Here it is." you dig out the booklet and start reading.

They listed the materials but you still had no idea what they were so it flew over your head. There was also a page with pictures of the other dolls and the makers' letter to the customers, thanking them for purchasing the doll.

Flipping the pages, you find what you were looking for.

Your face becomes red as you read the doll's 'abilites', including that his thing can vibrate and cum, he reacts to your touch and that he has a usb charger that gets plugged into the back of his neck.

"W-wow." you nod to yourself as you keep reading until you flip to the last page.

WARNING!

If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.

The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening so be aware of that.

Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.

Do not throw the doll into the trash.

Do not break, bruise or cut the doll.

If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.

If you've purchased our Hyunjin doll, do not be too harsh on him considering he's sensitive.

Hope you enjoy the romantic soul you chose!

Bruise? The doll can bruise?

Why are they talking about it like it's alive?

You gulp and turn to look at the couch but the doll is unmoving, turned towards the tv, same position as before.

You peek back into the big box to find another, smaller box inside it, that was beneath the doll's feet earlier.

You carefully take it out, putting it on the floor and opening it curiously.

Inside, you found a change of clothes, more casual looking ones and something to be used as sleep wear. It was like getting a Barbie doll with all her outfits when you were a kid.

So bizzare, yet it made you feel excited in a way.

After getting up, you decide to clean up the mess you made with the bubble wrap and put the box away in your closet, just in case, if you ever wanted to return him.

"Okay." you nod and come back to peek at the doll.

The television screen reflects in his eyes, his hands crossed in his lap, just how you left him and relief washes over you.

Why are you even scared?

You shake your head and decide to prepare lunch.

You're in your kitchen, listening to some slow music as you cook, completely forgetting about the doll sitting in your living room.

That is, until the volume of the tv suddenly increases making you jolt and gasp.

Your back straightens as you turn off the stove.

Slowly turning around, you stare at the direction the sound is coming from.

You swallow and make your way to your couch, you don't know what to expect but the doll is still in the same position you left it, the tv remote is out of his reach, down on the coffee table.

You grab it and decrease the volume before looking back at the doll.

"If that wasn't you, we have ghosts in this apartment. But if it was you, you're obviously wanting my attention." you cross your arms as you stare at him.

Nothing.

"Fine, I will eat lunch with you." you declare before going back to the kitchen to get yourself food.

You mostly eat in front of your tv anyways, not caring about any rules since you live alone, enjoying the freedom it brings you.

Settling down next to Hyunjin, you pull the blanket over your legs too and start eating.

You chuckle to yourself, if someone saw you right now, they'd think you're absolutely insane, sitting down next to an inanimate doll that looks eerily human.

You take a peek at Hyunjin, sighing as he sits still.

"You do look alive. But I'm literally talking to myself." you say and of course get no answer.

Shrugging, you continue about your day, washing dishes and doing laundry, enjoying your selfcare routine after getting your apartment in order, your Hyunjin doll observing your movements from the couch.

In the evening hours, you finally come back to him.

"Are you tired of being in the same position?" you ask, knowing there will be no answer.

"We can have dinner now." you add and leave to the kitchen to bring out some food and a bottle of wine.

"This is insane. Top 5 weirdest things I've done." you talk to yourself as you look down at your black satin nightgown, with lace details on the top, perfectly resting on your chest. "Maybe it even takes up the first place."

You settle next to Hyunjin once again, changing his position a little as you fill up two glasses of wine.

"Our first date, I guess?" you sigh with a chuckle before drinking the wine.

His glass stands full on the coffee table, untouched as you start eating next to him once again.

"I guess I should tell you a bit about myself. I work in an office. I hate my job but it pays the bills." you say, "I always wanted to be in a band though. Played guitar in high school. Never got too far with that. I love art too, you know, any shape or form of it. Maybe that's why I chose you. You seem like an artist. Or you would be if you were real, ha." you chuckle, yapping away as you keep drinking the wine, the doll listening to you without moving.

You keep pouring the wine into both his and your glass but it's only you drinking from both glasses.

It gives you a nice buzz, warmness that spreads through your body and manifests itself between your legs.

Usually, you'd play with your vibrator or dildo but seeing as you got a literal sex doll, you thought you should use him for the purpose he's made for.

"Now, what do I do with you?" you smirk, your hand coming up to play with the doll's hair, twirling the lock in your fingers.

"I mean, I can do anything I want." you nod, scooting closer to the doll.

"I feel fucking crazy." you laugh, pulling the covers off of Hyunjin.

Your hand is pressed on his thigh as you touch him gently through his clothes, your mind still marvelling at the fact that he feels like a real human being.

"I'm curious." you whisper, your fingertip playing with the button of his shirt, wanting to see what he looks like underneath the nice clothes they made him wear.

Slowly, you start unbuttoning the doll, taking your time with it, as anticipation builds up, creating a swirl of excitement inside you.

When you pop open the last button, you open up the shirt and gasp.

"Wow." you lick your lips at the sight, the doll's nipples look aroused, his stomach is toned, it looks like there's a vein leading down into his pants making your eyes fall down at his crotch.

You still have no idea how they made him look so real but you're eager to explore, planting your hands on his chest, running them up and down to his stomach, tracing the vein with your fingertips.

You run your hands back up to his nipples and flick them gently with your thumb before pinching them experimentally.

Gasping, you notice a growing bulge in the doll's pants.

"Am I pushing the right buttons?" you chuckle at your own joke as you continue playing with his nipples.

Your impatience however doesn't let you stall for too long, so your hands make their way down to the hem of his pants.

"Let's see." with a smirk you unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them down with a little struggle as you have to lift him up a little.

You place your hands on his thighs, squeezing the flesh a little, watching as his cock twitches like he was really alive.

"You really do react to touch." you gasp in wonder, what kind of technology was this?

They even put underwear on him which you think is a nice touch but at this point, you were too curious not to slide them off immediately.

"Woah!" you gasp as his cock springs free of its confines.

You think it's the biggest and most beautiful cock you've ever seen, framed by a neatly cut bush, a visible vein running up the whole length.

You stare at it for a little while before you wrap your hand around it, your other hand fondling his balls.

It feels real once again, like he's throbbing and twitching, hot and heavy on your palm, a bead of precum at the tip.

"What in the hell?" you mumble, your finger swiping at the tip as you gather the liquid and bring it to your lips.

You suck your finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and tasting the sweetness of the doll.

How he tasted so sweet was beyond you.

"Fuck it." you chuckle, pulling off your nightgown and tossing it aside, which leaves you completely naked like the doll is.

"I didn't even kiss you. Not very romantic of me." you smirk as you throw your leg over Hyunjin, sitting in his lap, your wet folds pressed against his cock.

You lean in and press a kiss to his lips, and of course the doll doesn't kiss back but his lips move with your movement and it feels good as you grind on his hard length.

"Look at you. Letting me do all the work like all the rest of them." you scoff with a smirk and at that, the doll's cock twitches a little too hard against you, almost pushing inside you.

"Wow. Someone's excited." you stare at the doll's eyes but there is nothing in there to indicate that he was in fact listening to you.

"For how much you cost, I hope this is worth it." you shrug and grip the base of his cock, guiding it inside you.

Sitting down on his length has you gasping as he fills you up perfectly, like his cock was made exactly for your pussy to take.

Your grip the doll's shoulders and use it for what you intended to when you clicked on that purchase button.

No matter how turned on you are though, staring at Hyunjin's almost expressionless face proves to be a turn off so you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you press your chest to his and continue bouncing on him.

Save for the fact that his hands lay limp on the side, his skin feels human and he feels kind of warm, like there was something inside the doll, warming it up.

"F-fuck." you whimper as the head of his cock brushes against the spongy spot inside you, it's like the more wet you get and the harder you fuck on him, his cock responds to you.

"R-right hand for activation." you repeat the instruction from the manual, as you blindly search for his right hand, sliding your fingertips on his wrist to his palm, your head leaned on his shoulder as you slowly gyrate your hips.

Your fingers interlace with his and it feels almost like Hyunjin grips your hand back, making you jump a little but before you can move away, his cock starts vibrating inside you.

"A-ah!" you moan loudly as your other arm curls around him, holding onto him while you fiddle with his fingers, your legs clamping around him as you start falling apart.

"G-gonna cum!" you whimper, burying your face in Hyunjin's neck and he smells so nice, feels so good as his cock keeps vibrating against your spot, bringing you to your high quickly.

The ecstasy you feel as the vibrations persist, prolonging your orgasm, overstimulating you while you ride the feeling makes you miss the single blink that Hyunjin's eyes make before returning to their original glassy and unmoving state.

"Too much." you whimper, squeezing his thumb and the vibrations stop.

You know that the left hand brings a happy end to the doll but you're not sure if you're done with it yet.

Leaning back to finally look at his face has you a little disappointed as you don't notice any kind of change on his face.

"Kinda wish you were real." you whisper, hugging the doll as you start bouncing on his hard cock again, bringing yourself easily to another orgasm.

You squeeze the doll's left hand after that, and feel spurts of warm cum shooting inside you as his cock twitches, the head bruising against your spot violently as he fills you up with copious amounts of the sticky substance.

You're pretty sure the neighbors can hear you moan as you cum again, the feeling of being filled up to the brim satisfies you and has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

"Wow." you breathe hard, your cheek leaned on Hyunjin's shoulder as you grip his wrists while you come down.

You lean back to look at the doll again.

Were his lips slightly upturned before?

In the fogginess of your orgasms, you couldn't tell or think straight.

"Be right back." you slide off of him and make your way to the bathroom, taking a quick five minute shower before you grab a wet cloth to clean the doll up.

He sits how you left him, and you kneel between his legs to clean him up carefully.

His cock is not completely soft nor hard anymore, it's somewhere in the middle, but as you touch it gently, it seems to react and twitch again.

"You came already." you smirk and experimentally pinch the tip of Hyunjin's cock, but nothing happens except the member twitching again.

You stand up with a sigh, covering him with the blanket again before you leave for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Just as you turn on the water to wash your mouth out, you hear something akin to a sigh coming from your living room.

You freeze, turning off the water and listening closely but you only hear the quiet buzz of the lamp above your mirror.

Maybe you were just imagining things.

You shake your head and finish your business before going back to Hyunjin.

"I'm too tired to dress you now, but boxers should be enough." you say and struggle to get him dressed, almost giving up during the process.

"I should just keep you naked in my bed to avoid the hassle." you say, lifting him up and carrying him to your bed.

"Cuddles, right? I do love me some cuddles too." you say with a tired smile as you adjust Hyunjin in your bed.

You join him under the covers and lean on your elbow as you lay sideways, staring down at him.

"How'd they make you look and feel so real?" your hand is on his cheek, and you trace his eyebrows, his nose and lips.

Fingertips travel to his ears, down to his neck and his chest.

"Don't come alive and scare me while I'm sleeping, Hyunjin." a shadow passes in his eyes as you say his name but you're too busy caressing his toned stomach to notice.

"Night." you kiss his lips before turning off the lamp and laying your head on his shoulder.

Somehow, you adjust his arms so that it seems like he's holding you and you throw your leg over his, your hand tracing patterns on his chest and side.

It was like hugging and kissing your pillow in high school, except this one took the shape of a human being.

With thoughts and questions about Hyunjin swimming in your head, you fall asleep quickly, not noticing how the doll's arms tighten around you ever so slightly.

Early in the morning as your alarm starts blaring loudly and annoyingly, you groan and stir, almost forgetting about Hyunjin being next to you.

"Oh!" you gasp. "Good morning, dolly." you say after turning the alarm off, as he stares at the ceiling.

"Sadly, I gotta go to work and leave you here alone. You better behave while I'm out." you lift a finger up menacingly, but there's a playful smile on your face.

"Man, I'm crazy." you shake your head before leaning in to leave a nice, wet smooch on Hyunjin's cheek.

"I'll come say bye before I leave."

And you do so, after eating breakfast and getting ready, you're back in your room.

"Should I put you in the living room so you can watch tv?"

The doll never answers.

"Maybe, yeah. You'll be bored lying in bed all day." you nod and carry Hyunjin to your couch.

You make him comfy, cover him with the blanket, card your fingers through his messy hair and then turn on the tv, leaving the remote in his lap.

"Gonna be late because of you." you sigh and lean down to place a kiss on the doll's lips.

"Be a good doll."

And with that you finally leave your apartment.

All day at work, you can't help but wonder if your Hyunjin doll somehow came alive, and for some reason you were looking forward to seeing him even if he didn't.

"What's got you so happy? Finally got laid?" your coworker chuckles as you stand in the office kitchen making yourself some coffee, you know she always gossips about you behind your back so you don't wanna give her the time of the day.

"Mind your business, Amanda." you answer quickly, turning to leave back to your office.

"Okay, you didn't then." she calls behind you with a giggle but you decide to ignore her.

"Fucking bitch." you mutter to yourself as you close the door.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully and you can't wait to drive back home to Hyunjin.

"I'm home!" you yell out as soon as you step inside, hearing that the tv is still on, nothing out of the ordinary.

You make your way to your living room to find Hyunjin in the exact same position as you left him almost 9 hours ago, the remote still next to his right hand, the same channel you turned on this morning on the tv.

For some reason, your shoulders slump.

"Well, I guess you've been a good doll and took my warning literally." you shrug a little.

"Still, I want to reward you. As soon as I eat and take a nap that is." you add and go about your routine, eating lunch, taking a shower and of course changing into your comfy clothes, which at this time of the year consisted of an oversized t-shirt and panties.

"Let's take a nap together, dolly." you say to Hyunjin as you lift him up and move him to your bed again.

You lay him on his side, then mirror his position, taking his arm and wrapping it around your waist, the other comfortably under your neck.

Tracing patterns on his stomach and chest again, you start talking.

"Your life is so easy. From the couch to the bed, you don't even have to work or go anywhere. Meanwhile, I have to endure fucking Amanda every day at work. Do you have any idea how bitchy that woman is?", you talk as you cuddle your doll. "She has to know eeeeverything about eeeeeveryone. Soon, she'll crawl up my ass just to look at my insides."

You look at Hyunjin's face and for a moment it seems as if his eyes moved.

"Are you listening to me, perhaps?" you whisper, your hand on his cheek. "I know I'm probably crazy. But I'm glad I got you. Even though you're a bit creepy, you bring me comfort." you add, tucking your head into his neck.

"I'm gonna sleep now."

Slowly blinking your eyes awake, you feel warmness enveloping you that's not coming just from your blanket but from Hyunjin.

Quickly, you realize that somehow his thigh ended up pressed against your core, your leg thrown over him as you scooted closer to him in sleep.

"Oh." a little sound escapes your lips as you grind against his warm thigh, feeling wetness on your panties.

Before looking up at him, you press a kiss to his collarbone and it seems like his thigh moves against you once, making you jolt.

"Hey." you look up at him, but his eyes are unmoving as always.

You observe his face but the throbbing between your legs makes you grind against him again.

"F-feels good." you whimper, leaning in and kissing him, letting your tongue dart out and lick at the plump lips.

You feel his erection press against your other thigh, the one flush against him and you chuckle a little.

"Someone likes me a lot." you say, leaning back to look at him.

It looks like there's a small smile on his face that you swear wasn't there before.

"Hm." you squint your eyes as you stop your movements.

"Gotta try something." you declare after a moment of silence, lifting up and removing the blanket.

You push Hyunjin on his back, hooking your fingers in his boxers and pulling them off of him.

"Aw, you really do like me a lot." you smirk at the sight of the doll's cock, twitching and leaking again like it did yesterday.

"I'll give you some attention, you deserved it."

You spread his legs, adjusting them so you can kneel between his thighs and you lean down.

"I haven't done this in a while. You can't complain though." you chuckle a little as you grip his cock and let your tongue dart out, catching the sweet tasting precum with it.

You don't understand how he tastes so sweet, it's hard to put your finger on what exactly the taste is but it makes you want more so you swirl your tongue around his head, your moans muffled as you swallow the sweet liquid.

"Mm. Fuck you taste good." you whine and put your lips around him again, slowly taking more of him in as you bob your head up and down.

Sucking cock like that is not your favorite thing to do, sometimes it makes you feel uncomfortable but having Hyunjin be so still and so tasty has your arousal pooling on your panties and you keep wanting more.

You take as much as you can, coating his cock in your saliva, your tongue pressing along his vein as you fondle his balls has him twitching inside you.

You smirk and grip his left hand, spurts of hot cum hitting your throat and it tastes even sweeter than before as you whimper and swallow everything.

"Damn hot." you whine, quickly getting rid of your shirt and panties, before you take his now completely wet cock in your hand and start jerking him off to make him hard for you again.

It doesn't take long to excite the doll and you decide to turn your back to him and fuck on his cock like that so that you don't have to look into his lifeless eyes while pleasing yourself.

You sit on him and push his cock inside yourself, your warm cunt engulfing his entire length easily.

"Mm." you gyrate your hips as you close your eyes and enjoy teasing yourself, your wet pussy coating his navel and balls.

"God, you're perfect Hyunjin." you whine and start fucking on him.

In the deep throes of passion as you bounce on him, your nails digging into his thighs for support, your eyes closed in pure bliss, you don't notice anything.

You don't notice Hyunjin blinking, his lips opening to speak but nothing comes out.

He can't move no matter how hard he tries and once again his eyes go back to the glassy state they're always in.

"Gonna cum." you whine loudly, gripping his right hand and he starts vibrating inside you, pushing you over the edge and making you scream as you squirt all over him.

"Fuck." you whine as your eyes focus, noticing you have left red marks in his thighs.

"Oh. Did I hurt you?" you gasp, your fingertips gently running over the marks.

"Didn't mean to." you look back at him but he lays still.

His cock twitches inside you and you grip his left hand, making the doll fill you up as you slowly ride him.

You lift up slowly, his cum sliding down your inner thigh together with your release.

"Made a mess of you, dolly." you look at the state of him.

"Maybe a bath?" he doesn't answer but still you prepare a bath and place him in it, careful of the usb opening on his neck.

You get inside after him, settling between his legs and leaning your back on his chest.

"Why are you so warm, Hyunjin?" you caress his arm as you hold it, his other one thrown over your stomach.

Sighing, you lean on his shoulder and close your eyes, trying to relax in the warm water, as Hyunjin 'held' you.

You still couldn't understand how they made him, but you were willing not to think about that, as he brought you a kind of comfort you didn't expect, making you wanna indulge in that feeling for as long as you could.

It's been exactly two months since you've gotten your Hyunjin doll, and ever since then you've loved spending every day with him.

You talked to him like he was alive, you watched movies with him, you read him books, you slept next to him every single night, you brought him to the kitchen so he can watch you cook, you even took him on late night drives sometimes, feeling bad that he was locked up in the apartment all day.

Sometimes, you thought you saw a flicker in his eyes, a slight smile on his face, or his fingers twitching against his thighs.

Some nights, while you're half asleep, you could swear that he tightened his hold on you or his chest lifted up and down like he was breathing.

Some days, as you'd come home from work you found him in a slightly different position than you left him.

One time, you sat him next to the window so you could watch rain together, and when you came back from making some tea, there was a heart shape in the fog on the glass.

"Did you do this dolly?" you caress his hair and look at him closely but he doesn't react.

You sigh, tracing another heart next to the first one before you sit in his lap, bringing the warm cup to your lips and observing him.

You thought you were going crazy in the beginning but as time passed by, you were becoming sure that there was more to Hyunjin than you initially knew.

"Just say something if you can hear me. Or squeeze my hand." you try for the nth time as you sit on your couch with Hyunjin but nothing happens.

"Fine." you huff. "Maybe you want something first. What would you like? I bought you new clothes. Maybe you want something else like... like something to do with art? We can paint together, if you'd like."

Hyunjin doesn't answer.

Nevertheless, you bring your art supplies and a bottle of wine.

You make yourself comfortable on the floor, next to Hyunjin's legs as he sits on the couch.

You end up being the one painting and drinking, Hyunjin's eyes move to look down at you, the look in his eyes softens, unlike the glassy one he always has.

He wants to talk, he wants to lean over and caress your hair, he wants to taste the wine off of your lips and feel the paintbrush between his fingertips.

But he can't. His eyes become glassy again as your phone rings, jolting you out of your peaceful activity.

It's your mother.

The conversation starts as always and it escalates into a fight of when are you settling down, why aren't you married, why are you closing yourself off, why are you such a failure?

As soon as you hang up a sob escapes your lips and you fall into Hyunjin, seeking comfort as you wrap your limbs around him, your face buried in his neck and your hot tears sliding down from your cheeks to his shirt, soaking it up.

"No one would understand." you cry. "They'd say I'm crazy and maybe I am. But I don't give a fuck."

Your body trembles against Hyunjin as you hiccup and sniffle, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your leg thrown over his thighs.

His body seems warmer than before and you squeeze him a little.

"Maybe I'm fucking crazy for loving a doll. But I love you Hyunjin." you sigh, closing your eyes as you lean against him.

His eyelids flutter a few times. He blinks.

A deep breath through his nose and you almost miss the way his chest moves up.

You place your hand on his chest, and feel it.

A heart beat slowly forming, at first almost too slow to be normal until it becomes steady and then speeds up.

He's breathing, his lips are dry as he licks at them, his hands clutch onto you and you scream.

You jump up quickly, your eyes wide as you look at him.

Hyunjin looks back up at you, his eyes wide and filled with fear and shock, mirroring yours.

He opens his mouth and a series of coughs escape his lips.

"Wh- How? Am I hallucinating?"

"Y- y/n." is the first thing he says, weakly and quietly as he reaches out for you.

You stay still as a statue, not sure what the hell is happening before your eyes.

"P-please, don't be scared." he begs as he tries to get up but his legs give out and he falls to the floor with a thud.

"Ugh." he whimpers, his hands grabbing at the coffee table.

You're slow to react to him falling from the shock of it all, making your way back to him cautiously.

"Did you hurt yourself?" you ask quietly.

"N-no, I don't think so." he says as he looks up at you.

"Who- who are you?" you don't know what else to ask, because the doll you used and played with was now a human with a heartbeat and he was looking at you, even knew your name.

"What do you mean? I'm- I'm Hyunjin, your romantic doll." he answers like it's the most normal thing ever.

"How are you alive? Why now all of a sudden? I don't get it." you say as he sits back on his legs.

"You... You love me. Your love brought me to life." he swallows, his cheeks rosy.

"Oh... There was nothing about this in the manual." The fucking manual. The doll's actual purpose. Everything you ever did to him. Embarassment washes over you and you feel absolutely mortified.

"Do you... did you hear me all this time? And um, see and feel what I was doing?"

"Y-yeah." he nods, his cheeks becoming even more red.

"Fucking hell." you whine, covering your face with your hands as you sit on the couch.

"Hey, it's okay. I- I was made for that." he says, his hand on your knee in an attempt to comfort you.

You peek at him through your fingers.

"And you were so nice to me. So... warm and loving. You made me feel so good. You never mistreated me even when you knew very well you could do whatever you want with me. I'm thankful for that. And I- I love you too, y/n." Hyunjin talks, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

"Are you programmed to say stuff like that? Are you a robot?"

He chuckles.

"I'm not programmed and I'm not a robot. Didn't you feel my heart beating?"

"I did but... I don't understand. How were you made?" you finally remove your hands from your face.

"I don't know. I wish I could answer your questions but I'm as clueless as you are. I just know I was conscious the whole time while I was with you but I couldn't speak or move. Like I was paralyzed. It was horrible. I tried giving you signs, I tried to talk multiple times but it's like something would hold me back, like there was a wall and I couldn't break through."

"That does sound horrible. I'm sorry if I ever did something you wouldn't agree to." you say quietly, your face burning in embarassment.

"No, no, I liked everything you did." he says with a sheepish smile, averting his eyes. "Wish I could reciprocate." he looks up at you through his lashes.

You're biting on your lip nervously, his hand reaches for you and you accidentally snatch yours away, not used to your doll talking to you and trying to touch you.

"A-are you gonna abandon me now?" he asks quietly as he eyes your hand.

"What?" you look back at him to see that his eyes are watery and you gasp. "No, of course not! I always wished you'd come to life. Didn't think it would actually happen so I'm still processing and hoping that I'm not dreaming."

"Oh, thank god." he exhales and you let him grab your hand. "I- uhm... I'm very hungry and thirsty. Could you help me with that?"

"Oh! Of course! I will make some dinner for us." you say and help him sit up on the couch, noticing that now he's heavier than he used to be.

"I guess I still need to get feeling in my legs and arms." he says as you bring him a glass of water.

"Mhm, probably you need to have blood pumping properly through your body. Don't worry." you pet his hair as he drinks and he looks at you.

"Here, you'll be warm like this." you wrap him up in your fluffy blanket and notice a change on the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you exclaim, your fingertips touching the skin there, making Hyunjin shiver a little.

"The usb opening is gone." you declare and he brings his hand to touch it, your fingertips grazing against each other.

"That's weird." he says absentmindedly.

"All of this is weird." you chuckle and he chuckles with you, making you look at him.

God, he's even more beautiful with a smile gracing his face, you think to yourself.

Without thinking your hands gently cup his cheeks.

"You're really alive." you whisper, your thumbs gently stroking his face, his eyes flutter as he pushes into your hands.

"I am. Does that make you happy?" he asks with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Very happy." you nod with a smile, leaning closer to him.

"Good. I want to make you happy. When you're happy, I'm happy too."

"Hyunjinnie." you whine against his lips and kiss him gently.

Having him kiss back as he clutches at your shirt is the sweetest thing ever, you think as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"Okay, I don't want you to starve now that you came to life." you lean back with a chuckle as he chases your lips.

"Yeah, please, I need food." he nods and you make your way to the kitchen, whipping up a quick dinner, checking constantly if he's okay.

You bring two plates as soon as you're done and Hyunjin's eyes seem to get bigger as soon as they land on the food.

"Be careful, it's still hot." you warn him.

"Okay." Hyunjin nods.

He eats happily, asking for more which you of course bring to him.

"Are you feeling better?" you ask when the two of you finish eating.

"Yes, much better. But I feel very tired now."

"You need sleep. Let's go to bed. Do you think you can walk now?"

"I think so." you grab his arm and help him become steady on his feet.

You lead him to the bathroom and he looks at you.

"Now that you're alive, you need to brush your teeth and wash up before bed."

"Right." he nods.

After a whole ordeal of getting ready, you finally plop down under the covers.

"Can I- Can I hold you?" Hyunjin asks sweetly and you chuckle, rolling your body into his.

"Of course."

"Always wanted to do that." his limbs wrap around you as he holds you tightly, your face buried in his chest.

"Good night, Hyunjin. Please be there when I wake up." you nuzzle into him, inhaling the familiar fresh and flowery scent of him.

"I promise I will. Good night, y/n."

It wasn't a dream.

Your eyes flutter open and Hyunjin smiles at you fondly, his hand gently caressing your cheek.

"Morning, dol- Hyunjin."

"You can call me dolly if that's what you like." he smirks and you chuckle.

"Eh, well you're human now. It feels like I'm degrading you." you gently touch his chest.

"I don't mind." he shifts and you feel his erection press against your thigh.

You gasp a little, your core throbbing with want.

"I'm sorry." his face is red instantly. "It's just- when you touch me... I can't help it."

"It's okay, Hyunjinnie." you slide your hand down to cup him through his boxers.

He whimpers, leaning into you, his eyes fluttering shut and you press your lips on his in a heated kiss.

His tongue licks at your lower lip and you let him in, eager to finally feel his kisses how you craved to.

Hyunjin kisses you messily and hungrily, grinding into your hand, grunting against your lips.

As soon as you slide off his boxers, automatically your hands lift up to push him on his back but he grabs your wrists gently to stop you.

"My sweet girl, let me take care of you how you deserve now that I'm able to." he rasps, his eyes hooded as he looks at you with lust.

"O-okay." you whisper and lay down on your back, letting Hyunjin slide your panties off as you pull off your shirt and toss it somewhere aside.

"I've spent so much time receiving. I want to give, my angel. My hands hurt when I couldn't touch you and make you feel good. That's all I want to do." he sounds desperate as his lips attach to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, his hands roaming on your body and settling on your breasts.

"Mm, make me feel good, Jinnie." you whimper as he squeezes your breasts, massaging them and moaning against your skin like it was more pleasurable to him than to you.

He mumbles sweet praises as he leaves more kisses that lead to your nipple, his tongue darting out to swirl around it, making you arch into him.

His eyes are dark as he wraps his lips around it and starts sucking, his other hand sliding down to grip your inner thigh.

Fingertips ghost on your skin, both his hands now spreading your legs apart.

"Do you know how much I longed to taste your sweet nectar? Will you let me drink from you, my angel?" Hyunjin asks, his finger gently pressing into your clit, circling it.

"Yes, please, oh my god." you whimper, your hips lifting up into his touch.

He smirks, trailing kisses down to your core.

He stops for a moment to admire you and you don't even have time to feel self-conscious as he spreads your pussy lips apart and leans in to stick his tongue inside you.

"F-fuck!" you jolt as he starts moving it before he leans back a little and licks at your sensitive clit.

"Taste even sweeter than I imagined." he moans, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks on it, his thumbs gently caressing your pussy lips.

"H-H-Hyunjin!" you whimper as he sucks harder, your hips lifting up in pleasure.

"Could be here for hours. Eating this sweet pussy out." he moans, pushing his tongue inside you again, this time fucking you faster, his nose giving the perfect pressure on your sensitive nub and driving you crazy.

Your hand grips his hair, pushing him more into you as he skilfully moves his tongue, his lips pressing into your lower ones as he makes out with you.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly, coating Hyunjin's face and he laps it all up greedily, his eyes shut as he whimpers into you, sending vibrations right into your core.

You feel crazy with desire the more he continues eating you out like a man starved and you have to grip his hair and pull him away after he gives you two more orgasms.

"H-Hyune, please, I need your cock." you whimper, feeling like you're falling apart.

He licks at his red lips, his eyes crazed with lust he feels for you.

"Anything my angel needs." his voice is husky as he leans over you, the tip of his cock pressed against your wet, messy cunt.

He pushes in with ease, after all, you've been fucking on him for the last two months, your pussy was used to the stretch.

"Mm, Hyunjin!" that doesn't make it feel less pleasurable when he fills you up, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

"Move, please." you whimper, already feeling out of it.

Hyunjin grips your thighs and starts fucking you at a steady pace, his cock dragging against your walls deliciously, sliding easily through your wetness.

"Feel so good. So warm. Just for me." he whimpers, his eyes fluttering shut before they open again and look down where his cock disappears inside you.

"Just for you, Jinnie." you moan and he looks up at you, a smile on his face.

He leans closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and in turn you wrap yours around his shoulders, bringing your bodies flush together as he buries himself deep inside your heat.

He ruts into you desperately, your lips meeting in messy kisses, spit dribbles down your chin and he licks at it, kissing your jaw and your neck wetly.

"P-please tell me you love me." he whimpers in your ear, holding you tightly as he fucks you harder, only taking a little bit of his length out and shoving it back in with force that has your mind spinning.

"I love you, Hyunjin. I love you. So much." you cry happy tears, making him cry too as you clutch onto each other.

"My angel, I love you more than anything." he says as he kisses you, his tongue playing with yours.

He brings you to another orgasm, his fingers on your nipples, pinching and pulling as he keeps rutting into you desperately.

"C-can I cum?" he whimpers, his hands gripping desperately at your waist.

"Yeah." you nod quickly and he gives you his left hand to squeeze and as your fingers entwine, he cums, filling you up endlessly, more than when he was just doll and you whimper as your legs clamp around him, lifting your middle into him and cumming with him again.

Both of you breathe hard as he stays inside you for a moment, before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of you.

"D-do I still have to squeeze your left hand for you to cum?" you chuckle a little.

"No, just... force of habit, I guess." he says sheepishly like he didn't just fuck your brains out.

"What about the vibrations?"

"You really liked that, didn't you?" he smirks, his hand sliding up your thigh tentatively, before his fingers slide between your folds, playing with the wetness.

"Shut up." you say embarassingly, swatting his hand away.

"Don't worry, I can vibrate if you want." he bites on his lip as he looks at you.

"I'm too sensitive now." you whisper and he chuckles.

"I know. Usually you don't go above four, five orgasms in one sitting. Maybe six if you're extra horny."

"It's embarassing to me that you know this in such detail." your face becomes red as Hyunjin chuckles, shaking his head.

"Nothing you should be embarassed about. I'm happy to please you." he says and leans down to kiss you gently.

You pull him into your embrace, hoping that from now on, he stays human, and keeps loving you because in this moment you can't imagine your life without Hyunjin in it.

"Thank you for letting me use your painting supplies." Hyunjin smiles up at you as he sits on the floor of your living room, like you always did when you painted.

"Don't thank me, Jinnie. What's mine is yours." you smile as you sit next to him and lean in closer.

"Let me see." you say as he looks down sheepishly.

He pushes the sketchbook towards you and you gasp.

"Hyunjin, this is amazing! How did you manage to paint so well?! And you painted me! That's so sweet."

"I- I don't know. As I started, it's like I got déjà vu, like I already did this before and many times so."

"Really? That's peculiar." you say.

"Maybe we should call the company I got you from." you add, tapping your chin.

"P-please don't!" Hyunjin panics, gripping at your thigh. "I'm scared. I don't know why but when I try to think of that place, it feels bad. Please don't call them. I don't want them to take me away from you."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. No one will take you away from me. I won't call them." you quickly grab his face to calm him down.

"You promise?" his pupils shake as he looks at you.

"I promise." you nod and kiss him sweetly to let him know he can trust you.

Hyunjin visibly relaxes with your touch, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his face in your neck.

"Um... could we go outside? We only ever went on night drives which is understandable but now that I can walk and stuff, we could go out on real dates and maybe visit museums?" he looks up at you with a smile.

"Of course! Anywhere you want to go." you smile back at him, and he leans up to kiss you.

For the next several weeks, you take Hyunjin everywhere.

To the park, the movies, museums, to a club, to different restaurants, to a mall, anything that comes to your mind, the two of you decide to visit, even going to a little town nearby for a day trip.

You don't remember the last time you were this happy and had someone next to you who made everything look so easy and sweet.

Hyunjin had taken an interest in capturing all the pretty moments so you got him a camera, deciding to surprise him for your 6 month anniversary.

As you came home from work, you called out to him but there was no answer.

"Jinnie? Are you sleeping?" you pushed the bedroom door open but the bed was vacant.

A heavy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach as you searched your entire apartment and couldn't find him.

Frantically, you looked for him again, knowing that he didn't suddenly become Barbie sized and hid somewhere.

He was gone.

You ran out of your apartment to knock on your neighbor's door.

"Tony! Did you see Hyunjin today maybe?" you asked him as soon as he opened the door.

"No, I didn't, sorry." he shook his head.

You didn't know what to do so you went back to your apartment and burst into tears.

Hyunjin didn't have a phone you could contact him with as he never had the need to use one so you had no way of reaching him.

All you could do was sit and wait, biting your nails as every single scenario runs through your mind.

He will come back, you reassure yourself as you fall asleep from exhaustion.

And he does, around 10pm the door clicks open and you jolt up from your nap on the couch.

"Hyunjin?" you say into the dark space and he turns on the light, standing in the middle of your living room with two gift bags in his hand and an apologetic look on his face.

"Oh my god, Hyunjin!" you jump to your feet, running to him and throwing your arms around him, squeezing him tightly and almost knocking him down as the bags fall out of his hands and he wraps his arms around your waist.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I should've left you a note. I-I went out to get a gift for our anniversary tommorow."

"Please, don't ever disappear like that again. Do you have any idea how scared I was?" you cry and Hyunjin gasps, his hands on your face as he wipes away your tears.

"I'm really sorry. I will never ever do something like this again." his eyes water too.

"I should get you a phone." you shake your head. "Hey, how did you even manage to buy a gift? You don't have any money." you chuckle, wiping at your cheeks.

"I went to the park and painted portraits of people for money, then got the gift."

"Oh, Jinnie, you sweet fool. Just don't give me any more scares."

"I promise I won't." he nods and your lips seal in a kiss.

Despite having so many options to choose from now, Hyunjin and you decide to have a nice dinner at home for your anniversary, where it all started.

You even took out the most expensive plates and silverware you owned, adding some candles to create a more intimate atmosphere, some light romantic music playing in the background.

"Y/n, I um- got you something I'd like to see you wear tonight for me."

"Oh, you did?" you smirk. "Show it to me."

Hyunjin grabs one of the gift bags and reaches it to you with an excited smile.

You chuckle and peek inside, seeing that he got you black and red lacy lingerie as well as a dress.

"Do you like it?" he asks.

"Very much so." you take out the dress and touch the silky material. "This dress is very revealing." you notice the opened back and the deep neck line that would definitely almost make your breasts fall out.

"I was counting on the fact that we celebrate here because you in that dress is for my eyes only." his eyes darken suddenly.

"Oh yeah? Let me get ready for our dinner then." you chuckle and make your way to the bathroom.

Hyunjin decides to wear the clothes he arrived in, since those were the only fancy clothing items he owned, and he thought it was kind of symbolic to put them on tonight.

You walk into your bedroom to find Hyunjin dressed and staring at the big box he was packed in, one you still didn't get rid of.

"Jinnie?" you call out as he seems to be deep in thought.

"You kept the box." he says, still looking at it.

"I did. I had no idea what I was getting into so I left it just in case. I was gonna throw it out, it's just really heavy." you explain, making your way to him.

"When you arrived, two men had to carry the box in, and somehow the box seemed heavier than you. I barely managed to get it into the closet. Had to push it and stuff. Sorry I didn't have the chance to get rid of it."

"It's okay, y/n. You don't have to apologize." he smiles as he turns towards you.

"Oh." a gasp leaves his lips as he sees you all dressed up for him.

"You like?" you smirk, winking at him.

"Mhm." he nods quickly. "You look stunning, my angel."

"Thank you, Jinnie. You look handsome."

His cheeks seem to become more red with the praise as he mutters, his eyes darting left and right.

You enjoy your dinner together, romantic music playing in the background, the tv mute, left on just from the habit of it.

After you finish eating, you migrate to the couch to cuddle and drink wine, some stupid show playing on the screen and the two of you jokingly read from the character's lips, making up nonsensical conversations and laughing.

After some time and some more wine, Hyunjin becomes even more handsy than usual, grabbing at your thighs, sliding his hands on the silky material of the dress.

You melt into him, kissing him as your arms wrap around his shoulders, your tongues languidly massaging each other as your core throbs with need.

Hyunjin caresses you gently, his hands worshipping you, sliding down your throat, to your collarbone, to the swell of your breasts, down to your stomach and waist, landing on your hips.

His lips attach to your neck as he leaves wet kisses on your skin, licking at it and sinking his teeth in.

"Mm." you moan, playing with his hair as he kisses your collarbone and the flesh of your breast, leaving another love bite on the soft skin.

His hands travel under your dress, roaming around on your legs and your eyes open, landing on the tv, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin, that's you!" you jolt, pointing at the screen.

"Huh?" he mumbles, already drunk on you.

You quickly grab the remote and turn on the sound.

"...seemingly the dolls have some kind of malfunction that the company does not wish to reveal to the public. All eight of the purchased dolls are required to be returned and the buyers will get their money back, guaranteed. The customers will be contacted accordingly..."

"M-my friends. I vaguely remember them." Hyunjin breathes quickly, you can see that he's getting upset quickly. "They wanna take me away from you."

"I won't let them." you quickly shake your head.

"What are we gonna do?" he asks, clenching his fists and you gently grab his hands, trying to soothe him.

"We're gonna... leave."

"Leave?"

"Yeah, I have a house my aunt left me up in the mountains. I don't think they can find us there. For now, until we think of where to go next." you start planning immediately.

There was no way you would let anyone take Hyunjin away from you.

"But, what about your job? And your things?" Hyunjin bites on his lip.

"I don't care. All I care about right now is making sure you're safe." you smile at him, your hand coming up to caress his cheek.

Hyunjin smiles, leaning into your touch and wrapping his arms around you.

"Thank you." he whispers into your hair.

You get a call from an unknown number the next day, but one quick google search tells you it's the company Hyunjin came from.

You packed one bag of a few essential things you'd need, leaving most of your belongings behind.

"Y/n! There's a black van posted outside. It's been there for hours. They're looking at the building right now." Hyunjin announces and you make your way to the window, half hiding behind him.

"We need to use the fire exit." you declare and Hyunjin nods as he turns to you.

"I won't let them take you. I promise." you hold his hands.

"I trust you, my angel." he smiles and you kiss him gently before the two of you exit the building, quickly entering your car.

You step on the gas, and reach out to hold Hyunjin's hand in yours.

As you speed off into the sunset, hoping for a better tomorrow, a black van rounds the corner, following you from afar...

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @lixies-favorite-cookie

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bucketbueckers · 6 days ago

Text

BIGGER IN TEXAS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: filth (and some plot, as a treat)!! language, light alcohol/body shots, oral, fingering, strap, fuck ass cowboy hats, freak shit im talm bout inittttt, slight overstim, mirror, light choking (author is unoriginal we know this), reader is honestly thirsty as hell but so is paige, idk how to tag smut properly just know im losing my spot in heaven for this fic

wc: 10.5k

synopsis: A Dallas Wings rookie and a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader walk into a club together. What could possibly go wrong?

notes: i wasn't ovulating when i drafted this but i am now! maybe tmi. sinners changed my life and my main takeaway from that movie is everyone is a munch and thats a life philosophy i think everyone should have. make sure you all say "thank you kali uchis" because i actually got insane writers block after waking up this morning but her album saved me. not much to say but im actually going to hell for this so please make it worth it and hit up my inbox pls and ty 🫶 as always i hope yall enjoy!

Let the record show that you weren’t serious.

Okay. You were like, 50% serious. As in if you were presented with the opportunity, you would take it, but if any of your friends were to ask about it, you would probably deflect.

You realize now that you tend to get a little overzealous on Twitter – it’s far more unhinged than your Instagram is, where you share pictures of your everyday life and action shots as a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader. You have less followers on the bird app (it is not X), you’re a little more…real, and as a bonus, your mom doesn’t follow you, so you feel like you can be a little more insane on there.

Although you’d probably apologize to her later – because one of your recent tweets is going a little crazy.

It didn’t start as anything crazy. Being a Dallas athlete, you kept up with nearly every sports team – the Mavericks, the Stars, the Cowboys, obviously, but you loved the Wings, too. You watched the WNBA draft as did countless others in the country.

When the Wings admin posted the Welcome to Dallas, Paige Bueckers! tweet, you’d giggled to yourself, mostly because you were nursing a Chili’s margarita and because she looked insanely good in the graphic.

You retweeted it, typing, welcoming you into dallas w open arms @.paigebueckers1 🤠

Then, almost like an afterthought, you commented on your own retweet, typing, and with open legs 🙏

You didn’t think much of it. Obviously. You didn’t have a huge following and if anyone asked, you’d just be kidding. The next ten minutes are peaceful as you finish off your margarita and scroll aimlessly through TikTok, keeping one ear out for the next draft pick. And then your phone starts blowing up.

A bunch of likes. A few people retweeting your second comment with various laughing or crying emojis. But what makes you pause is the notification reading Paige Bueckers has liked your tweet!

Oh. You click just to make sure, and – yeah. Definitely the one about having open legs.

Any other day, this would probably be mortifying, but today you’re a little emboldened by the margarita in your veins and you can’t help but think this is a little funny. You’ll probably regret it later when everyone remembers that you’re kind of a public figure and decides to flame you for being a little unhinged on main. For now, though, it’s not that big of a deal.

When you wake up in the morning to an unread DM from Paige – who’d followed you back, mind you – on your Instagram, you suddenly realize that it actually is a big deal.

Paige 💕: I’m flying into Dallas on the 23rd for media Paige 💕: If the offer still stands maybe you could show me around the city?

You stare blankly at your phone. Then you blink once. Twice. You power off your phone, press your pillow to your face, and you scream.

You weren’t serious, but you think you’re being presented with the opportunity – and, well, who are you to look a gift horse in the mouth?

After you finally come back to your senses, you reach for your phone again, navigating back to your DMs with Paige. You only have to contemplate for a few seconds before your fingers are flying across the keyboard.

You: i’ve been known to be a thorough tour guide You: let me know what your schedule looks like and i’ll show you the pretty parts of dallas

Her response comes quicker than you were expecting.

Paige 💕: Looking forward to it 🫶 Paige 💕: Not sure how Dallas compares to you but I can be open minded

Admittedly, you have to reread her message twice to fully grasp the cheesy pick-up line, but you hate the way it makes your cheeks flush. You’re not sure how to respond to that.

You settle for screaming into your pillow again.

The week passes by quickly. You and Paige talk — a lot — truly enjoying getting to know each other during your rare moments of free time. Paige is busy with flights and appearances while your schedule is packed with practice and learning the audition choreography for the next season of DCC.

Despite yourself, you can’t help but think how nice it is. There’s no expectations. You’re both athletes with a combined two hours of free time. For now, you’re just content to see where this goes. You enjoy her company, and honestly, you’re really into her. Paige flirts relentlessly, but you can tell there’s an undercurrent of respect and admiration that makes you feel like that feeling is mutual, too.

She texts you a picture of the Dallas tarmac when she lands on the 23rd, a coy reminder that you did promise to show her around. Paige has media for a good portion of the day, though, so you know you won’t be seeing her for a while. You tune in for a little bit of her rookie press conference, and no, you weren’t cheesing while listening to her speak. But if you were, that wouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own.

You don’t hear from her for the next few hours, which doesn’t bother you. You do get a call from one of your squadmates, Lielle, asking if you’d be down to hit the club before the DCC season starts – and who were you to say no to that?

You settle for a light, natural makeup look, throwing on a blue, mesh, halter corset top that sparkles in the light and a pair of cropped, white denim shorts. They’re long enough to cover what they need to, but it’s the perfect club outfit – something with the right amount of tease and will make you feel confident enough to truly let loose.

Lielle picks you up along with a few other of your friends who tease you relentlessly for your actions on Twitters – it’s no use defending yourself, although they’re nearly howling in excitement when you point out that Paige is in your DMs, so you’re probably doing something right.

You and your girls enter the club with high spirits, the atmosphere already electric, and two of your squadmates break away to find a table while you and Lielle make your way to the bar to order shots and drinks for everyone. Lielle leans over the bar, already laying it on thick for the bartender, who grins politely like he’s seen just about every variation of whatever game Lielle is playing.

On the bright side, he does end up discounting your drinks on account of being a DCC fan, which makes you think Lielle never truly had a chance, anyways – but a cheaper drink is a cheaper drink, especially in Dallas. Lielle walks away with a wink and the drinks in her hands as you remain to order something for yourself. The bartender has just slid the drink your way when you feel the heat of someone’s body next to yours. At first, you’re alarmed, but you soften when you hear their voice, followed by finally looking at their face.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” In person, Paige Bueckers is so much taller than you’d anticipated, which is probably a really stupid thing to say for a professional basketball player. She’s tall, her cologne a heady scent of warm vanilla and something distinctly floral, and she rests her arm against the bar in a way that’s devastatingly casual and dangerously alluring. Paige is wearing a black and white striped Nike sweater, the very same she’d done media in, a look not befitting of the club but you can’t help but think about how perfectly her it is.

You crack a coy smile, taking a quick sip of your drink for some liquid courage, because Paige is staring at you like she knows exactly what she wants from you and your heart thrums because if she said the word, you’d be willing to give it to her. “What, is this place too scandalous for a cheerleader like me?” you joke, and the heat of her gaze travels down your body in one quick motion.

“Nah, nothing like that,” she assures you. “Just didn’t think that out of every club in this city, I’d be lucky enough to run into you my first night out.”

“Seems we’re both feeling a little lucky tonight, huh?” you say, and she laughs gently under her breath. Paige holds out a hand to you. In lieu of a shake, you settle for hugging her instead, which she relaxes into immediately, her hands resting respectfully at the small of your back. “It’s great to finally meet you in person,” you say genuinely, pulling away at the right moment. “You enjoying Dallas so far?”

Paige shrugs a little, a smile on her face and gratitude on her tongue when the bartender slides a drink her way, too. “Haven’t got the chance to see much,” she says honestly. “Was in media all day, then I stopped by Costco so my apartment looked a little less pathetic. Now I’m here. Something about rookie initiation, according to Rike, but I think she just wanted someone to buy her drinks.”

You laugh. “Look at you already taking care of people,” you comment, your grin widening at her playful expression. “You’re here with your team, then? Where are y’all sitting?”

Paige purses her lips, her eyes squinting as she peers through the dim lighting of the club. “I think over there?” she says, pointing at the VIP section towards the back. She’s closer to you now, her chin resting just above your head, and you follow her gaze. You can’t help your smile, something she picks up on immediately. “What’s funny?”

“I think your team’s already hitting it off with mine,” you say, easily spotting Lielle handing a shot to Arike and clapping when she downs it in one go. You don’t think Lielle is drunk yet, but she has a natural excitement and zest for life that makes her the easiest person in the world to befriend.

Paige huffs a little under her breath, amusement lacing the sound, and her hand finds your waist. “Must be meant to be,” she says to you. Despite yourself, you preen, your smile widening when her hand finds your skin. “After you.”

Paige walks almost protectively behind you, the crowd of club-goers parting instinctively for the both of you. When you make it back to the VIP section, both of your teams cheer – like they know something you don’t – which causes a blush to rise on your cheeks and a nearly smug expression to take over Paige’s.

Introductions are swift, if a little unnecessary. You’d run into many of the Wings players before, having made a genuine effort your first year as a professional cheerleader to show up to many of the Dallas sports games.

Before you know it, Arike has ordered more shots for the table, and Paige slides into the booth next to you with a dangerous glint in her eye and two shots of tequila in her hands. The table is lively, raucous, with Kelsey – one of your squadmates – going shot for shot with Aziaha James and Lielle and Arike instigating.

But here, now, in this little corner you and Paige have tucked yourselves into, you’re enjoying the intimacy of the moment far too much, feeling as though you’ve been afforded far more privacy than you actually have.

Paige presses one of the shots into your hands, a loose smile on her face. “To Dallas?” she asks you, raising her glass.

You tap yours against hers, a matching smile of your own as you agree, “To Dallas.” You down your shots in one go, the liquid warming your belly pleasantly. “And to Twitter,” you add a little jokingly, but your blush deepens when Paige smirks, raising a thumb to your lip to wipe away the excess tequila beading on your mouth.

She sucks her finger into her mouth, humming a little insufferably, and you’re burning for an entirely different reason now. Your gaze hones in on her hand, flicking between her lips and her eyes. And, sure, she was constantly flirting with you over text. You knew she was feeling you as much as you were feeling her – but to watch her behave so confidently in front of you, to unravel you like it was nothing… The confirmation makes you ache. It reminds you that you’re not the only one feeling the warm buzz between the two of you.

“You always that forward?” Paige asks you, referring to your tweet. “Or am I just lucky?” Her words are punctuated with a heated grin, one that makes you shift in your seat. You hope that she didn’t notice, but you see the way her eyes darken and how she leans in a little closer to you.

“Only when I’m tipsy, apparently,” you mutter. You glance up, taking in her expression, the curiosity and desire in her eyes. Your lips quirk into an amused smile. “But I don’t think I have to tell you about the effect you have on people.”

“Good thing I don’t really care about other people,” she says, her gaze dropping down again. You can’t tell if she’s looking at your lips or your chest, but it makes warmth bloom under your skin, anyways. Paige makes eye contact as easily as she drinks you in. It’s disorienting, unwavering. It’s almost like you can see exactly what she’s thinking by the way her pupils dilate. Her fingers brush against the inside of your wrist, setting each and every one of your nerve endings on fire. “But you? Didn’t know I was affecting you like that.”

“Oh, you’re not,” you laugh, which just makes her laugh, too, something dangerous flashing in her eyes. Dangerous because you know you’ve already given in. Any other attempt at saving face or trying to look a little less down bad is just meant to make you feel a little bit better – like she hadn’t already won you hook, line, and sinker the moment you promised to show her around Dallas.

“Lying is a sin,” Paige murmurs.

“Lust, too,” you retort.

Paige’s subsequent grin is a little too wicked. “Touche,” she agrees, and you can’t help but lean into her touch when her hand splays over the expanse of your toned waist, her thumb brushing your skin like she’s trying to memorize every shift in your muscles. Her voice drops a few decibels, only loud enough for you to hear as she presses in closer to you. Your hair raises when her lips ghost across your temple, the shell of your ear. “You’re already burning for me, though. Probably soaked through these fucking shorts, aren’t you? So why pretend you ain’t?”

“Paige,” you whisper, your heart beating a little faster, pounding against your ribcage. Your hand finds hers, linking your fingers together, and you don’t stop her when she maps out every inch of skin not hidden by your top. If anything, you arch into it slightly, enjoying the heat of her palm against your belly. She grins like she knows, like she’s already called the Uber and is thinking about how she can ruin you in the car without alerting the driver.

“Jus’ say it, mama,” she murmurs, her breath hitting your ear. You should feel some type of way for how easily your body betrays your brain, pressing further into her without your permission. “Tell me what you want and we don’t gotta play these games in front of your girls.”

Your mouth opens, the words getting caught in your throat when Paige finally grips the meat of your thigh with her hand, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to claim.

But before you can give into the feeling of it all, the bubble of peace between the two of you is broken by Lielle exclaiming, “Who wants to do body shots?!”

Breathless, you glance up at Paige, who stares back at you with mischief. She squeezes your thigh gently, whispering, “Be good,” before tugging you to your feet and towards Lielle, who holds the salt, lime, and the bottle of tequila. You sigh a little, already feeling like you could combust.

Your combined teams cheer when Paige volunteers you. Her smile, which is borderline smug and nearly possessive, makes your skin burn, but her eyes betray the ease in her features. She scans her teammates like she’s waiting for one of them to think that they could take her place.

Kelsey clears space on the table while Lielle uncaps the bottle of alcohol. One of the other Dallas rookies – JJ, you think her name is, extends a hand to help you onto the table, but all it takes is one glaring look from Paige to make her raise her hands in surrender. Paige steps up, her gaze dark, and she grips your hips, raising you onto the table with a weightless ease. Her eyes never leave yours, watching you with rapt attention as you lean back, getting comfortable.

“You good?” she asks, her hand resting over your stomach, which rises and falls steadily under the heat of the moment. You nod quickly, needing her hands on her body more than you think you need air, and she allows herself a quiet smile as she reaches for a lime wedge. Gingerly, she holds it out to you. Your teeth part at her wordless command, clamping down on the lime, trying not to wince at the taste. Her fingers linger on your lips, pupils blown wide, and it makes warmth coil low in your belly when you realize just how reciprocated this feeling is.

She reaches for the salt next, uncapping it, too, and meets your eyes with one last unspoken question. You don’t hesitate before you nod, uncaring of where she lines up the salt. You are surprised when she leans down, licking a stripe between the valley of your breasts, wetting the skin there so the salt can stick. You hardly register the wolf whistles around you, far too focused on the satisfied, focused grin on Paige’s face as she sprinkles the salt on your skin.

Finally, Lielle hands over the bottle of tequila, and you try to steady your breathing as Paige pours a generous amount in your navel. A drop slips, trailing down and soaking into the fabric of your shorts. You swear you can hear Paige’s breath hitch, but the club is too loud for you to be certain.

Lielle is probably recording. There’s no way she isn’t – she’s the life of the party, and whenever you wake up tomorrow, you’re sure you’ll find the video of Paige doing a body shot off of you on her close friends. But right now, when Paige is staring at you like you’re the only person in the room, like she can’t wait to get you alone and ruin you? You can’t think about anything but the blonde athlete and how willing you are to let her unravel you.

With one last glance to check in on you, Paige leans over you, caging you in with her arms. Her head dips down, licking the salt off of your chest with a devastating slowness. You catch the edge of her grin as she trails her lips down your torso, settling at your belly and drinking the tequila directly off your stomach.

Her tongue probes for the last drop and she presses a farewell kiss to your skin that makes your breathing stutter. Then, finally, she makes her way back up to your lips, her skin a little flushed, and she parts her lips to take the lime wedge in between her teeth.

But Paige isn’t through with you. You watch with wide eyes as she punctures the flesh with her teeth. She takes the lime wedge in between her fingers and with her free hand, she cups your jaw, her thumb brushing against your lip. You adhere to the silent demand, your lips parting again, and she presses down on the bottom row of your teeth with her thumb, keeping you open as she squeezes the juice of the lime into your mouth.

You shudder, eyes slipping shut in a non-physical pleasure – Paige hasn’t even touched you yet, but you feel like you’re ready to fall apart. The lime juice makes your face contort from the sourness, but you hardly think about it when your eyes blink open once more to take in Paige’s lazy expression. She’s already gone – her smile wide, reverent, satisfied, proud, and she discards the lime peel.

Paige removes her finger from your mouth, closing your jaw for you, her features softening with pride as you swallow the juice dutifully. You barely hear her whisper, “Good,” before she helps you off of the table, steadying you when you sway a little unsteadily, and the both of you make every effort to ignore your friends.

They don’t focus on the two of you for too long – JJ is helping Kelsey onto the table to keep going, so you take advantage of their distraction and pull Paige down to your level by her collar. She grins insufferably, like she knows she’s teased you to the point of no return. Her smile widens when you demand, “Take me home. Or we’ll cause a scandal in the middle of this club.”

Her lips brush against yours. “Uber’s already here,” she informs you, her expression far too satisfied. If you were any less pussy drunk, you’d probably hate yourself for being too easy, but all you can think about is how her skin would feel against yours.

You let her pull you through the club. You let her hands linger on your hips when she helps you into the Uber. And without so much as a noise, you part your legs for her in the car, letting her fingers trace the inside of your thighs discreetly. Paige doesn’t give you what you need – you knew she wouldn’t.

You keep your reactions tempered, even when she leans in closer to you, her nose brushing against your ear as she whispers filth that the driver is none the wiser to. And when you make it to her apartment complex, you hardly hear the driver’s farewell before she guides you out of the car, through the apartment lobby, and into the elevator.

Paige’s grip on your hips is tight, like you’re not sure if she’s trying to keep you close or trying to restrain herself from defiling you in the elevator. Either way, you don’t mind. You press your hips to her front, grinning in satisfaction when her fingers tighten and her breath hitches, a groan building in her throat. The ding of the elevator breaks you both from your stupor and you follow her to her door, watching in amusement as she fumbles with the key in her haste.

“Do you remember my tweet?” you ask a little offhandedly, sliding your fingers under the hem of her sweatshirt. She curses under her breath when your fingers find her waist, splaying across her abdomen – it’s more for your pleasure than it is hers, feeling her muscles jump under your hold. Her eyes are a little wide and blown out when they meet yours.

“S’all I’ve thought about for weeks,” she confesses, finally getting the lock to turn. Her words give you pause as she throws open the door. Catching you by surprise, she picks you up, one arm looping under your ass, and your arms slide around her neck for stability as she shuts the door behind her, making sure to turn the lock back.

It’s all speed from there. Paige kicks her shoes off in the entryway, her hands gripping the back of your thighs as she blindly walks the both of you through the hallway towards the bedroom. You silently thank her coordination as an athlete, more so when she starts mouthing at your chest like it’s been the only thing keeping her going. Her tongue darts out, wet against your skin, and she hums against your breast as she tastes the residual salt from the shot and the sweat. Paige nips at your skin and holding onto her tighter with a wordless sigh is all you can do to keep it together.

Finally, she finds the bedroom door, throwing it open without a care in the world. Paige deposits you safely on bed and then almost falls over herself following – the dichotomy makes you ache, the way she’s so desperate to get her hands and mouth on you, but the evident care she makes sure to treat you with despite her need. You want her to turn you out in every single way she’s thought about since draft night, but the respect is touching.

She clicks on the dim lamp at her bedside, her eyes returning to your figure when her vision adjusts. She shakes her head like you’re not real, her hands touching your hips, your waist, your breasts covered by the thin material of your top. You’re sure she’s burning this image into her mind forever – you’re doing the same. You may never be able to forget the image of Paige Bueckers hovering above you, eyes wild and gone, messy like you’re already five rounds deep and not just pent up from fucking around in the club.

The first press of her lips against yours makes you keen, arching into her exploring hands while yours cups her cheeks. You’ve thought about this for weeks, too, how it would feel to have her on top of you like this. She tastes like a tequila shot and something distinctly fruity from the cocktail she was sipping on. Combined with the lime juice on your breath, your kiss is intoxicating for several different reasons, and the heat coiling in your belly reminds you of how badly you want this.

She tugs your bottom lip between her teeth, pulling it back and letting it snap back before her lips find every inch of your skin. The hinge of your jaw, the tender spot on your neck that makes you thread your fingers through her hair to pull the tie loose, the dip in your throat where your moan vibrates against her lips. Paige is ravenous. Like there’s a million different things she wants to do to you before the sun comes up. You’d let her.

“Thought about this forever,” she murmurs, her voice hoarse and wrecked. Your breath stutters, back arching to help her untie your halter top and letting her pull it off you. She goes almost painfully silent when she takes in your breasts fully, your pebbled nipples. “Fuck.” Her curse sounds like a filthy prayer, one that you’d give up almost everything to respond to. One of her large hands splay over your breast while her mouth finds the other one, alternating between kneading and sucking and here – you’re sure you could fall apart completely, your hips jumping up for contact.

“You don’t know what that stupid comment did to me,” she continues, almost to herself, but she knows you’re listening. She feeds off of the way your breath hitches as she pulls back long enough to rip her sweatshirt and sports bra off in two quick motions, the chains around her neck tangling briefly before they trail cold caresses across your stomach when she leans back down to take your skin in her mouth. Your jaw falls open in pleasure, gripping onto her, the sheets, anything to stay rooted.

“Looked at your page, and those–” Her fingers find the waistband of your shorts, popping the button and pulling the denim off while she rambles. She falters when she takes in the white lace covering your body, a low, wrecked groan spilling from her lips at the sight of the wet patch at the apex of your thighs. Paige brushes her fingers against you, relishing in the way your hips jump and your whispered plea.

“Those stunts you do,” she continues finally. “That fucking uniform is sinful, you know that? Got myself off thinking about you, how good you’d be. You offered yourself up and all I could think about at the presser was how many different ways I could get you to come for me. I wonder if I could do it without my hands.”

You’re not coherent enough to tell her she could probably do it with words alone, but you reach for her and pull her back to your lips, kissing her hungrily, like you’re on death row and she’s your only chance of salvation.

Your hands explore while her kiss disorients you. Finding the waistband of her pants, you reach for the belt, undoing it. Paige helps you pull her pants off, leaving her in a dark pair of boxers. Her skin is impossibly warm against your palms as you press your fingers into the small of her back, undoubtedly leaving marks.

She pulls back to trail her lips down your body, sucking marks everywhere, her hands holding you like she’s afraid you’d float away if she didn’t keep you rooted.

Paige doesn’t make any effort to strip you out of your damp underwear – if anything, she stares at it like she’s more proud of it than getting drafted first overall, and she presses her lips to the skin just above your waistband until it blooms red and purple. She soothes it with a kiss, her expression far too smug and satisfied.

“You’re soaked,” Paige murmurs, pressing her thumb to your cunt again, her grin widening when you moan, your hands shooting down to grip her hair. She makes eye contact with you and sucks her thumb into her mouth, eyes slipping shut as she tastes you. You can’t help the curse that tumbles from your lips. “That ‘open legs’ offer must have been a cry for help, huh?” she teases, but her voice is rough, like the very taste of you is a drug and she’s addicted. “Nobody else doin’ it for you?”

“No,” you admit, cheeks burning under the weight of your confession. The truth is you’d stopped looking after a while, but now, with Paige tucked between your legs and staring at you like you’re the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen, you briefly consider the fact that she’s going to ruin you for anyone else. For yourself.

She grins again. “Shame,” she murmurs, her lips trailing down to the inside of your thighs, where she presses gentle kisses. “Someone got to you before me and they couldn’t even make it worthwhile.”

She nips at your skin, the pain blooming into pleasure instantly. Your breathing comes to you a little faster the closer she moves to your aching cunt, but she soothes you with a hand to your belly. “I got you, mama. Gonna be the best you’ve ever had. Swear.”

You don’t doubt it, your head already swimming, and she presses one last kiss to your clit through the damp material of your underwear. It makes you jolt, but she steadies your hip with her hand as she pulls the lace to the side slowly. You can’t help but gaze down at Paige, locked in on the way her eyes glaze over with desire when your cunt is finally revealed to her.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. Maybe it’s been a fire that has been slowly burning ever since she initially hinted at flying out and taking you up on your offer. Now, all you can focus on is the way her hands grip your strong thighs, holding you open as she dives in to lick a long, slow stripe up the length of your slit.

You both moan in tandem – yours of pleasure and hers in awe. You’re dripping onto her comforter, hardly able to feel much remorse about it, but something tells you that Paige is really fucking into the fact that she has you so pliant beneath her.

Her tongue is exploratory, drinking in every drop of your arousal, her brows pinched together as she focuses on building you up. Her nose brushes against your clit while her tongue finds the source, licking you clean like she’s stranded in a desert and you’re the only thing that could satiate her thirst.

She’s wild, her tongue everywhere all at once, muttering messily into your cunt about how you “taste so fucking good,” but you’re sure you fall apart completely when her lips close around your clit and she sucks.

Your brain is mush. You’re not sure if you want to keep your eyes on her or let your head fall back into her pillows, unable to process the pleasure fully.

Paige makes the decision for you when your eyes slip shut and she nips at your clit gently – not enough to hurt (even though it sends a surge of pleasure up your spine, anyhow), but enough to get your attention.

The message is clear – she wants your attention. Thinking about how she’s probably getting off from you watching her makes the heat coil in your stomach, ready to snap at any given moment.

You tangle your fingers in her messy hair, pressing her deeper into you, head tipping back in pleasure when she doubles down on her motions. Paige is ravenous, tongue circling your clit, never once stopping or slowing.

Not until your thighs are shaking from pleasure. Not until the tears bead at your waterline. Not until she encloses her lips around your clit again, her cheeks hollowing from the pressure, and releasing you to drag the arousal from your entrance to your clit, coating it completely.

You’re wholly unprepared for the first press of her fingers against your entrance. Paige doesn’t push in – not yet. She drags her fingers through your folds, soaking them, listening and looking for your reaction as she probes deeper.

The first finger sinks in until it reaches her knuckle, punching a breathless moan out of you, and she curls her finger as she pulls out. She’s a quick study – learning what you like and how much pressure she needs to unravel you completely. But she’s slow, not adding in another finger. You get the message instantly when her eyes find you, her gaze dark and imploring.

Not above begging, your voice is hoarse, rough from your moans, your lips split-slick and bitten. “Please, Paige, keep going,” you request, clenching around the single finger in you. “More, please, fuck–” The words get caught in your throat when she smiles against you, taking your clit in her mouth again just as she slides in a second finger. Too far gone, you can’t help the repeated, delirious ramble of “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” or the choked out, “So fucking good.”

The more vocal you get, the more she gives you. Her lips and her tongue speed up, flicking against your clit with a devastating intensity. Paige’s finger’s scissor inside you more firmly, sliding in deeper with every thrust, particularly timed with her mouth. It’s a Pavlonian response. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you can’t find it in yourself to be too embarrassed by how loud you are.

You chant her name, breathless little sounds that sound more like pleas than sentences. The grip on her hair must be painful but she never slows. She’s fucking you closer and closer to the peak, and when it finally arrives, warning her is all you can do.

She’s heedless, her pace somehow intensifying even more, and you come with a sob that’s a mix of her name and a string of curses as the pleasure washes over you.

Paige doesn’t stop, drinking in every drop of you like she’s parched, her fingers slowing as they work you gently through the shockwaves. You’re breathless, stuttering through the euphoria, gratitude lacing your words.

When she pulls away, the bottom half of her face is slick with your arousal, her tongue darting out to catch the edges of her lips, but it’s like drops of water in a bucket. For all intents and purposes, she’d been drowned, but her grin tells you she would have been more than happy to go out that way.

Boneless and limp in bed, she trails her lips up your body until she finds your lips, kissing you deeply and allowing you to taste yourself on your tongue. The taste is heady, something you’d probably attribute to the taste of her, too, and you can’t help but moan against her lips, your body burning under the touch again.

“Don’t think I’m letting you tap out so soon,” she murmurs, squeezing your waist and peering down at you. “We haven’t even started.”

“Greedy,” you say teasingly.

Her subsequent grin is sharp, nipping your lip gently. “And proud,” she states, already leaning over and digging through the drawer of her nightstand. When her hand comes back into view, she’s holding a strap and the harness.

The sight of it makes your brows raise – it’s modest in size, but it’s still bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, both in length and girth. “What?” she asks, a smirk appearing on her lips as she fastens the harness around her hips.

“It’s big,” you point out obviously, but the heat is already licking at your skin again as you stare at it longingly.

“Everything’s bigger in Texas,” she retorts. The strap hanging from her hips makes your mouth water, and you suppose this is what you wanted anyway – for Paige to ruin you. She glances at you curiously, able to read how your hesitation washes away. You’re safe with her. She wouldn’t hurt you. That thought alone makes you a little more hungry for it. “Trust me, you ain’t gotta worry.” She drags her fingers through your folds again, raising it to the lamplight and showing you how they shine. It makes you blush, but her smirk is a little insufferable. “But, I mean…if you wanna try something smaller–”

“No,” you disagree a little too quickly. She raises a challenging brow, one that infuriates you. She’d been mean all night – teasing you and working you up. And, sure, she delivered, but you think that she deserves to be knocked down a peg or two.

You wrap your legs around her waist, and in a quick motion, you flip the both of you over, straddling her waist with your hands on her chest. She’s a little breathless, eyes wide and pupils dilated, yet you can spot the impressed look in her gaze. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

“Didn’t say that,” she says, her eyes drinking you in, the fucked out look on your face and she bruises covering your skin. Her hands find your waist, pulling you onto her fully – onto the strap – and she guides you into a slow grind, taking back the control seamlessly as you gasp. Paige grunts, too, the strap pressing back into her clit, and the fact that she’s feeling as good as you are makes you tremble with want.

“You insinuated it,” you argue, a little miffed.

She grins like your indignance is cute. “Just tryna be in you, mama,” she says, tugging you down a little harder, and it punches a moan out of you. “You gonna let me do that or are we gonna sit here and argue all night?”

You narrow your eyes at her, but you don’t say much else, and she draws her bottom lip between her teeth as she gazes down at where your centers connect. “That’s what I thought.” Her words are mostly said to herself.

She grips the waistband of your underwear and pulls them down your legs – you adjust to help her pull them off, and she throws them to the side.

Now that you’re completely bare, she pulls you down onto the strap again, your arousal coating the silicone. The unrestricted contact makes you shiver and you loop your arms around her neck for stability while one of hers finds your waist again.

With her free hand, she reaches for the base of the strap, guiding it to your entrance and holding you steady – the tip of the strap brushes against you, but she doesn’t allow you to move.

Her eyes are zeroed in on where you’re clenching around nothing, your arousal leaking out of you. Then, finally, she pulls you down slowly, controlling each and every small movement. Your breath hitches when the head breaches inside, pressing into you, and Paige kisses all over your chest to soothe you.

“Good, that’s it,” she murmurs, lips encircling a nipple as she pulls you a little further down. The stretch is delicious, splitting you open, her hands mapping out your skin. She grips the flesh of your ass in one large hand, the other reaching around to rub featherlight circles on your clit to distract you.

The sensations are overwhelming in the best way possible. Her mouth drags wet kisses across your body while she listens for your reaction. Paige lowers you further down, drawing a drawn out moan from you, and you feel her grin against your breast as you tighten your grip around her neck, pulling her tighter against you.

“Perfect girl. Taking me so well,” she coos. Her body is impossibly warm against you and you can feel yourself relaxing into it, wanting to sink down completely, but she doesn’t let you. “Want you to feel good, baby. Don’t rush it.”

Still holding onto your annoyance from earlier, you can’t help your slight eye roll as you nip at her neck, sucking a matching hickey into her skin. She hisses, letting you fall another inch before gripping your hips tightly. “Would feel good if you just fucked me,” you state, staring at her with an expression that’s borderline pathetic. “What’d you say earlier? Just tryna be in you?”

“Think you have a patience problem,” she muses. “I’d heard so much about this southern hospitality bullshit growing up in the north, but it seems like you got a manners problem, too. I gotta teach you how to say please and thank you?”

You barely resist a sigh. Instead, you let your lips pucker out in a pout, the motion drawing Paige’s attention immediately. You press closer to her, your breasts dragging against her chest, and she sighs from the feeling. “Please, Paigey?” you beg in a near whimper, taking the hitch in her breathing as a sign that you’re doing something right. “Just want you to fuck me. Been good for you all night, haven’t I? And I promised to welcome you to Dallas. Let me make you feel good.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, but the way her throat bobs tells you she’s minutes away from flipping you over and making you forget your name. “You’re dangerous,” she whispers.

“I’m yours,” you respond, and that’s enough for her. Paige drags you down the last few inches, bottoming out. You moan into her neck, the hand at the small of your back pressing you into her. You’re sure that you’re soaking her lap, but judging by the way her hips rut up into yours, she likes knowing how fucked she has you.

Her hands settle at the bottom of your ass, pulling you up as she mouths at your chest, her tongue darting out to taste your skin. You sink down on the strap again. The sound is obscene, drawing a gasp from you, and you repeat the motion.

Up, then down. Up, then down, beginning to set the pace for yourself, but making sure you grind at the bottom of your strokes to make sure that Paige is getting off too. Her eyes are hooded, darting from your face, to your chest, to the apex of your thighs where you’re soaking the strap.

“Fuck,” she groans, her voice rough, and it sends white hot desire up your spine. She speeds up your motions, the veins on her hand protruding from the effort of keeping you upright, her jaw unhinging in awe as she stares at you.

You allow yourself a small smirk, your right hand tilting her head back, revealing the expanse of her throat as you grind down onto her. With your ears so close to her mouth, you can hear every stutter in her breath, every jilted moan she tries to hold back, the hiss of pleasure when you bite down, sucking dark marks into her skin.

When her motions start becoming desperate, her hips bucking up into yours in time with every drag down like she’s trying to chase her high, you reach down for her hands, tangling your fingers together and pressing them into the pillows over her head.

“Really?” you murmur, your lips ghosting the dip in her throat. “You’re this close just from helping me get off?”

She laughs a little, something that sounds like a sob mixed with a whine, and her jaw falls slack in a low groan when your lips attach to the sensitive spot below her ear. “Can’t help it,” Paige manages. Her lips are slick, bitten raw, so you kiss her deeply, swallowing the sound she makes when you grind down especially hard. “Think you like it, though.”

“Mmm,” you hum. You speed up your motions, feeling your thighs and your stomach burn with the effort, but also feeling yourself teeter on the edge of crashing down completely. Your thrusts draw out another moan from Paige, one that makes you grin – because she’d tried so hard to keep herself together, to pretend she was here to fuck you and not the other way around. “Think I just like you.”

That makes a lazy smile appear on her face. Paige pulls one of her hands out of your grip, inching towards your throat and tangling in the necklace there. “Yeah?” she goads, her tone a little insufferable. “Didn’t – fuck – didn’t think I affected you.”

You’re still rutting against her, sweat beading on your temples as you argue, “You don’t.”

But that just makes her grin turn a little more smug. She releases your necklace, her fingers pressing lightly into the sides of your throat, squeezing once in warning. It makes your hips stutter, your breath catching. “Keep lyin’, mama,” she mutters, something dark in her eyes as her fingers trail down your body. One tweaks a nipple, kneading a breast as you gasp. Then, she goes lower still, bracing her large hand over you while her thumb finds your clit, rubbing messy circles through the slick there.

You lose your rhythm again, whimpering, but you keep going despite the exhaustion. It’s less about your pleasure now. You need to get Paige off, to tear down that ego of hers, to silence her for once. Even as you stare down at her, your eyes a little hooded, you realize she enjoys receiving as much as she enjoys giving, and there’s truly no winning with her – she’s getting off either way.

“Actin’ like I don’t know you already,” she continues, her thumb as ruinous as her hips – as ruinous as her words. “What you like. What you need.” You could fall apart like this – her words picking you apart piece by piece, her thumb reminding you that she has you right where you want her. Paige gazes up at you, her pupils blown wide, but you can make out the challenge in the blue of her eyes – she’s daring you to get smart again.

But you’re just as competitive as she is. Without faltering in your movements, you lean slightly, reaching for the cowboy hat perched on her nightstand. It has Paige stitched on the bill. Her jaw falls slack again as she watches you slide it over your head.

“You talk too much,” you retort, and then you’re doubling down again. You can tell the image of you wearing Paige’s hat is doing something to her – the way it bounces in time with your thrusts, combined with the wrecked sounds leaving your lips, the slick sound of the strap deep inside you, the fact that Paige wants you so bad it makes her stupid.

It doesn’t take much longer after that. You and Paige were already pent up. Her thumb quickens on your clit, her free hand gripping your hips tight enough to leave a bruise as she drags you up and down relentlessly, her own hips meeting yours. You can tell she’s getting close when her breathing turns ragged and her face burns red. You’re right there with her, digging your nails into her shoulders for stability as you push yourself to your high.

Part of you expects Paige to open her mouth again, to say something slick that would leave you trembling, but you don’t give her the chance to. You pull her face to yours, silencing your cries with her lips. You shiver when she bites down on your bottom lip harshly, soothing the sting with her tongue. “‘M close,” you manage breathlessly, holding onto her tightly – feeling as though your orgasm would wreck you completely.

“I know,” she murmurs, her voice choked. “Let go, mama, I’m right here.”

So you do, the pleasure washing over you completely as you cry out, sagging onto her body bonelessly, the cowboy hat falling off to the side of the bed. Paige drags you against the strap, riding out the high, her jaw slack in wordless pleasure while her body burns. She doesn’t still until you push her hands off of you, the overstimulation buzzing under your skin.

Your thighs are still trembling, your breathing uneven. You hardly have the energy to slide off of the strap, so you settle for holding onto Paige, tucking your head into the crook of her neck where sweat glistens and the lingering scent of her cologne remains. You shift, feeling the soaked comforter beneath both of you. It’s enough to make you groan.

But then Paige is shifting, too, the strap brushing against a spot inside you that punches a moan out of you. You don’t have to look up to know she’s smirking. “Chill,” you admonish, your body still sizzling. You don’t know how she still has the energy and the stamina to go after she just turned you inside out, but she moves her hips again, on purpose this time, and the heat coiling in your belly returns tenfold. “You’re insatiable.”

“Look who’s in my bed,” she says as if it explains everything. You just shake your head, amused by her. Paige’s fingers trail down your sides, brushing against your skin while she presses featherlight kisses to your temple, your cheeks, the hinge of your jaw. “Know you’ve got one more for me, don’t you?”

You can’t find the words, but you don’t need to. You grab onto her chain – mostly to hold her in place, and you kiss her – deep, lingering, soft despite the moment prior. She grins against you, sliding the strap out as she maneuvers you. The emptiness makes you sigh, but the shift doesn’t take long. She angles you until you can see your bodies in the mirror across her room, your breath catching at the insinuation.

You watch through the mirror as she reaches for the cowboy hat again, settling it over her messy curls. Her smile is determined – like she’s not quite satisfied, not content with the two orgasms she’d pulled from you; ravenous like she can’t wait to have you again. It shouldn’t turn you on like it does, but the flame is licking at you once more and you can’t help but succumb to the fire.

She wraps her right arm around your waist, pulling you up to a kneeling position while she settles in behind you. The strap brushes against you. The sensitivity makes you jolt, but Paige soothes you with a hushed murmur, her hand pressing against your stomach and keeping you tethered. “Want you to watch,” she whispers in your ear. Her right hand abandons your waist to hold you by the jaw, gently tilting your head up until you make eye contact through the mirror.

You’re rendered breathless by the sight – Paige’s body eclipsing yours, the hickeys adorning your skin, the slick between your thighs that shines from the lamplight. Paige isn’t much better, either. Her hair is a mess, the hat on her head skewed to the side, her neck littered with your teeth marks, skin shining from exertion. For stability, you hold onto the arm that’s wrapped tightly around you, pushing back against the strap.

“Can you do that for me?” she asks, pushing her hips forward, dragging through your folds. You nod quickly, letting out a soft whine when the tip of the strap catches your sensitive clit. “Keep your eyes on me or I’ll stop.”

“I will, Paige, promise – just…please–”

She hushes you again, kissing your neck. “I got you, baby. Relax for me, okay? Gonna give it to you. Just need you to be good for me.” You nod again, melting into her body, and with the hand not holding you upright, she guides the strap to your entrance. You moan softly as she slides inside with little resistance, bottoming out as she murmurs, “That’s it, perfect girl. You take me so well.”

You can’t muster the words to respond to that, so you lean your head on hers when she drags the strap out, then pushes back in with a devastating slowness that you feel throughout your entire body. Your body is still buzzing with oversensitivity, but the slowness of her thrusts helps to ground you.

She glances up to the mirror to ensure you’re still looking at her – which you are, enraptured and unable to look away – before she trails her lips down your neck, pressing gentle, wet kisses to your overheated skin.

She’s softer now. Soft in a way that makes you clench around the strap breathlessly, tilting your head to give her more access to your neck. She recognizes that it won’t take much to build you up again, more focused on making sure you enjoy every second – every motion, every push and pull of the strap. Paige plants a kiss on every hickey she’d left on your body, her actions borderline reverent in a way that makes you want to come for her again and again and again.

With one arm still wrapped around your chest, holding onto your jaw, the other wraps around your hips, holding you by the stomach.

Unable to look away, you tighten your grip on her arms, trying not to fall apart too soon. Your stomach coils, already close, but Paige moves slowly, her thrusts hitting deep, and you’re all too content to float along the current of pleasure. Her lips still ghost across your body, licking the salt off of your skin, pressing gentle apologies to the dark spots on your neck.

“You want more, mama?” she murmurs in your ear, a gentle check in despite the question. You hardly have to think about it before you nod. With the hand braced over hers, you drag her left hand down, her fingers finding your clit with ease.

She doesn’t apply much pressure, just enough for you to feel it without overpowering the sensations. You don’t let go either, guiding her motions, moving it further down to gather more of your slick before bringing it back up to circle your clit.

The slide makes it impossibly sweeter – she tightens her circles, pushing deeper inside you with the strap, the tip brushing against the spongy spot inside of you that makes you keen.

Paige doesn’t slow. She doesn’t speed up. She keeps her pace deliciously consistent, the strap dragging in and out of you deliberately, her fingers working you up in tandem.

Her free hand keeps your gaze locked on the mirror, watching her as she kisses your neck, the shell of your ear, listening to her breath heavily as if she’s feeling everything you are, too. That thought alone makes your hips stutter, pressing back into her.

She soothes you with gentle whispers. “So good for me, baby,” she’d say, or she’d time the circling of your clit with a deeper thrust, murmuring, “You feel me? Want you to feel good.” And the stupid hat makes you unravel a little bit more – it hangs off of her head loosely, threatening to fall at any moment, but all you can think about is how you rode her wearing her hat, how she claimed you in the club and how she made you fall apart wearing something with her name on it. You’re hers now, and honestly, you don’t hate that idea.

It doesn’t take much longer before your eyes are slipping shut, confessing, “Close, P,” in a hoarse voice. The sensations are overwhelming – her hot skin pressed against yours, the strap sliding through you and hitting spots you’d never knew existed, the maddening feeling of her thumb against your clit, her breathing against your ear, the pounding of her heartbeat against your back revealing just how close she is to falling apart, too.

“Okay, baby,” she whispers, her motions never slowing, kissing your neck again. But she presses her fingers a little more firmly to your clit, her free hand tapping against your cheek to gather your attention.

Your eyes blink open, finding the mirror again, the ruined look on her face. She looks desperate – not to get off, but desperate to watch you get off. “Want you to watch yourself.” Her voice is a little broken, almost begging, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. “You look so pretty when you come for me, you know that? Wanna watch you do it over and over and over again.”

“Paige,” you gasp, the sound coming out like a half-sob, half-whine, the pleasure building and the heat coiling.

But she hardly hears you, her eyes glazed over and pussy drunk. Her jaw hangs slack like she’s the one being fucked, her breathing uneven and heavy. “You feel so good,” she rambles. “Like you were made just for me. Can’t get enough of you. Please, mama, wanna see you fall apart for me. You’re so good, so fucking perfect–”

The coil snaps, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins, electricity down your spine, and all you can do is sag back into her one final time, moans tumbling from your lips while she works you through the aftershocks.

Her hips and her fingers slow, murmuring incoherent sentences into your ear, her words dripping in both gratitude and a satiated desire like watching you get off finally quenched a thirst she’s been harboring for years.

You don’t have to say anything, either – it’s like she knows your body by heart now. Gingerly, she slips the strap out of your soaked cunt and detaches her fingers from your sensitive clit. As much as you’d love to feel her skin against yours, her hips dragging against yours, you can barely keep your eyes open. The final aftershocks dissipate, your thighs calming, the pleasurable fog in your brain clearing.

“You still with me?” she asks softly, smoothing the hair at the crown of your head with her clean hand.

At that, all you can do is muster a laugh, your eyes opening blearily. “Yeah,” you say, “no thanks to you, though.”

“Hmm,” she scoffs, amusement in her eyes. “Coulda sworn this was exactly what you wanted. You know, open legs and all.”

“Alright,” you deadpan, attempting to roll on your side, but you can’t summon the strength. You settle for some weird half angle that’s hardly worth the drama of the moment. “Goodnight!”

“No way,” Paige laughs. “C’mon. I need you awake. Lemme run you a bath and change these sheets so you can rest, okay? You good with that?”

You meet her eyes again, your smile softening at the gentle earnestness on her face. If she hadn’t already ruined you before, you’re sure you are now. But there’s something in her eyes that promises this might not be a one night thing after all. “Yeah,” you whisper, drawing her closer to plant a chaste, affectionate kiss to her lips. You feel her grin. “You’re gonna have to carry me, though.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” she assures you, crawling off the bed and unbuckling the harness on her hips. She throws it haphazardly into the adjacent bathroom and you try not to laugh when something clatters to the floor. Paige picks you up with ease, one arm looping under your knees and the other wrapping around your back. She sets you on the edge of the tub as she heats up the water, helping you into it gingerly and tossing in a eucalyptus bath bomb for your aches. Before she leaves to swap the sheets, she plants a soft kiss onto your forehead.

You soak for a few moments until she returns, offering you a small smile before she slips in behind you. Her body is almost as warm as the water and twice as soft. She massages the shampoo and conditioner into your hair and jokingly points out her assault on your neck with a mixture of pride and concern. You tell her she’ll have to buy your concealer in bulk but when she murmurs, “As long as I get to see you again,” you find that you don’t really care about the marks on your neck as long as you get to keep this annoyingly charming, devastatingly beautiful athlete in your life.

Paige helps you out of the tub, your eyes drooping once more, dressing you in a pair of her boxers and an oversized t-shirt from her college days. She guides you back to bed gingerly, the sheets fresh and clean, and you have your head on her chest before she’s even got her head on the pillow. She grins because it doesn’t bother her at all. You smile because her heart’s pounding and you think you know why it is.

Just before you fall into a blissful, exhausted sleep, Paige’s voice cuts through the fog once more. “About that offer,” she whispers, tapping on the leg you have slung across hers. “Does it expire?”

She jokes, but you can hear the truth of her question beyond it. She’s not referring to your legs. Not literally.

Your smile is tired, but it’s no less affectionate. “For you?” you echo, drowsiness lacing your tone. “No. It’s renewable.”

“How long?”

You’re quiet for a beat, just enough to consider your words.

Is this something you want? Relationships can be hard. Tricky. But something about Paige tells you she’s in for the ride. That you can trust her – with you and your heart.

So you press a kiss to the hinge of her jaw, feeling her cheeks stretch with a smile, and you make her a promise:

“As long as you want.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #dallas wings #wnba

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afterglowsainz · 2 months ago

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do i wanna know? | oscar piastri

pairing: female!reader x oscar piastri

summary: during a stream, your best friend lando casually says that you cannot physically listen to arctic monkeys because they remind you too much of your ex, so everyone is surprised when you get caught listening to them

fc: emily alyn lind

a/n: i know i’m a week late, but fic for the chinese grand prix winner (!!!!!) (also i know this man only listens to house music but i don’t like that genre so i kinda did whatever i wanted)

—

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landonorrisupdates lando on his most recent stream saying his best friend y/n can’t listen to arctic monkeys without crying

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username lando omg 😭😭

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username god save me from friends like lando

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username y/n girl you’re stronger than me 😔

username i think y/n should be allowed to punch lando on the face every time he exposes her

username this is why you can’t associate your favorite band with boyfriends

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

yourusername a little quadrant bts 🎥🎾💋

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username she’s gonna eat as always

username i need that set actually

username insane face economy

maxfewtrell 😎

username lando couldn’t convince me to buy quadrant merch but y/n might

username y/n did you listen to the arctic monkeys new album?

username plsss 😭

username leave her alone she’s just a girl!

oscarpiastri’s instagram stories

[caption 1: 🎶 505 - arctic monkeys]

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yourusername plus vibe activity✨✨✨

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username gorgeous 🤭💗

username loveeee the aesthetic

username when we were young is such a vibeee

landonorris good song

yourusername 🤐

username plsss he’s still in time out 😭

maxfewtrell bring me some pizza

yourusername no

pietra.pilao pleaseee? 💘

yourusername only for you 🫶🏽

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yourusername turns out monaco is a real place and not just a bad bunny song

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charles_leclerc 🤨

username crazy how she’s been friends with lando for years and she’s just in monaco for the first time

username what force on earth pushed her to visit that place

landonorris heyyyy 🤪🤪

yourusername immediately no i’m going back

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yourusername omg i should’ve said that 😭😭

username how iconic of her to be a selena gomez and a bad bunny fan

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oscarpiastri exploring (my new home) 🏡

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username oscar piastri soft launching on main ????‼️

username he moved to monaco 😭

username leave it to oscar piastri to drop two insane news at once

username i know charles is proud to see his son 😔

charles_leclerc proud!

oscarpiastri 👊🏽

username WHO is that

username guys don’t call me crazy but … y/n?

username lando’s friend?

username no wayyyy 😭

username idk it doesn’t really look like her

mclaren’s tiktok

yourusername’s instagram stories

[caption 1: favorite romcom of all time💗]

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yourusername what a beautiful place shanghai 🪷

tagged oscarpiastri

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username i’m confused

username the hard launching hard launch

username oscar was soft launching y/n ???? 😭

username the twitter girlies knew and they called them crazy

username never again.

username ohhh so THIS is why she was listening to arctic monkeys again

yourusername 🤭

username he kissed her. right after getting out of the car. 😭

username may this love find me

landonorris WHAT

landonorris NOOOO

landonorris go back to being a couple in secret

yourusername no ❤️

oscarpiastri beautiful indeed

yourusername 😁🫶🏽

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januaryembrs · 1 year ago

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YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted.

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck.

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin.

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again.

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest.

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him.

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene.

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been.

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men.

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to.

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions.

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,”

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently.

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face.

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet.

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry.

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.”

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage.

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,”

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him.

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them.

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob.

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand.

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter.

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights.

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible.

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was.

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed.

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands.

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,”

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip.

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in.

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years.

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe.

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe.

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second.

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing.

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late.

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them.

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed.

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new.

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them.

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them.

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently.

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands.

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt.

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building.

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him.

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use.

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard.

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign.

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?”

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,”

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes.

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested.

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again.

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible.

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything).

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright.

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet.

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance.

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,”

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,”

“I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing.

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin.

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down.

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?”

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised.

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point.

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

“Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,”

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion.

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise.

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off.

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him.

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,”

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again.

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his.

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,”

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all.

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him.

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #Post Prison!Spencer Reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

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dannyriccsystem · 23 days ago

Note

i love your oscar fic!! we need more. what about oscar dating fernando alonso's daughter and him finding out and being every supportive, meanwhile the whole grid is teasing them

GOT A LITTLE TASTE OF YOUR LOVE THE OTHER DAY!

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

Summary: Oscar Piastri dating Alonso’s daughter… You!

Warnings: Y/N usage, slightly broken Spanish (been a few years I’m rusty), PAPA FERNANDO

Featuring: Oscar Piastri x Alonso!Reader

SO MANY OSCAR REQUESTS expect so much more for him soon! I love Oscar this is perfect

y/n.alonso

liked by fernandoalo_oficial and others

y/n.alonso My summer break 🫶 Ft. Mi gente favorita 😙❤️

tagged friend.user1, friend.user2, fernandoalo_oficial

—

username1 - Prettiest girl ever

♥︎ by author

friend.user1 - Beautiful girl ❤️ Te amo 😍

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - stoopp you’re beautiful

fernandoalo_oficial - Mi pequeña niña ❤️ All grown up

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - te amo papa 🥹

username2 - IS THAT A MAN IN THE LAST SLIDE

username3 - QUICK. EVERYONE ANALYZE THAT JAWLINE RIGHT NOW.

> username4 - COMPARE IT TO EVERYONE SHE FOLLOWS

> username5 - WE MUST PROTECT HER 🫡

username6 - These comments are crazy 😭

friend.user2 - Best summer ever ☺️ Such a joy

♥︎ by author

lance_stroll - 👍

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - Thanks Lance very cool

> username7 - IS IT HIM?

> username8 - girl 💀

oscarpiastri

liked by y/n.alonso and others

oscarpiastri Nice break 👍 Time to get back into the swing of things. 🏎️

—

username9 - Getting major boyfriend energy here

username10 - Let’s go Osc!! 🧡 Papaya boys got this

lando - Mate hired a professional photographer 😂

♥︎ by author

username11 - no because seriously who is taking his photos for him

opeightyone - Back on track🔥🙌

♥︎ by author

lnfour - Let’s aim for P2 (Gotta save P1 for the best 😉)

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - FERNANDO ALONSO P1!!🗣️🔥

♥︎ by author

> username12 - rare Y/N sighting…

> oscarpiastri - He may be young but he’s done it 🔥

username13 - Y/N and Oscar. The duo we didn’t know we needed

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by y/n.alonso and others

fernandoalo_oficial Mi princesita 😂 Still just as bossy

tagged y/n.alonso

—

username14 - I live for Nando dad content

y/n.alonso - Stop this made me cry 🥹 I love you papa thank you for everything

♥︎ by author

oscarpiastri - What a queen

username15 - ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE AHA

georgerussell63 - Who is this diva?

opeightyone - Admin’s fav girl 🫶

username16 - I feel like I’m being left out on a big inside jokes

> username17 - No real

Summer break for Formula One drivers had officially ended, landing them back in the competition for the Dutch grand prix. All the way over in Zandvoort.

You and Oscar were making your couple’s debut amongst the rest of the grid, excluding your father. You both had to calmly sit him down over dinner and explain that you were in love, and nothing would change that. Despite how protective he had been in the past, Papa Nando seemed to take the news quite well.

“Well, there were worse options. Could have been Lando,” you remember him saying as he patted your boyfriend on the back, who seemed gobsmacked at the polite reaction to such big news. The older gentleman offered him a hug, which settled their newfound father-son dynamic.

It was always interesting to see your father and your boyfriend interact, on or off the track. They seemed so unlike, but their chemistry balanced out nicely. Fernando always teased your boyfriend, making comments such as “I started racing before you were even born” and “you’re so young, I can’t believe you’re dating my daughter!” despite the fact you were only a few months older than Oscar.

You stepped into the paddock holding his hand, feeling oddly nervous. It shouldn’t have mattered since only the most important people in your life knew— That being Oscar and Fernando, although you were pretty sure Lando and Lance figured it out as well— but it was always a strange feeling to make your relationship public.

A chill ran down your spine when you heard someone call out, “Y/N!” Oscar’s hands squeezed yours reassuringly as you turned around to see Lewis rolling towards you on his scooter. He had his bright Ferrari red kit on, with a pair of sunglasses and a hat to pull the look together. “Are you here with your d…” His eyes trailed down, and he paused knowingly. “Oscar!” He cheered, clapping him on the shoulder aggressively. Your boyfriend flinched, a grimace of a smile popping up. “Moving up in life! Congrats.”

“Thank you, Lewis.” You answered for him. “But no, I haven’t seen my dad. Check his garage.” He nodded, giving you both one last glance over before rolling off again. “Charming as ever,” You reply teasingly.

“Yeah. Charming…”

The teasing didn’t end there. Being Fernando’s daughter meant a lot of these guys watched you grow up. You were there running around the tracks while some of them were in their rookie years— For anyone wanting to become a dad themself, you were probably good practice.

After Lewis came Max, who just made a few jokes about Fernando targeting him on the track now. Then came George, who went on a whole rant about how the fans would react, but ended it with a congratulations. Next was Leclerc, and then Sainz, and then Albon… It was driver after driver leaving a little teasing remark.

By the end, you were getting a bit tired of it. Not angry or upset, just… Feeling like you had to force a laugh with every joke that was said. When it seemed like they all had their share with poking fun, the both of you were sitting in Oscar’s driving room.

You watched him organize some of his stuff for the weekend quietly. Finally, he broke the silence when he came to kiss your scalp, “Well, we never have to do that again at least.”

Yeah, no. The teasing didn’t stop there.

y/n.alonso

liked by oscarpiastri and others

y/n.alonso My boyfriend makes the same face all the time. 🙂

tagged oscarpiastri

—

username18 - SORRY??? boyfriend?! like. BOYFRIEND?

username19 - She knew what the people wanted when she posted these

opeightyone - Promoted to our best photographer 📸

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - how much am I being paid

> oscarpiastri - My love is payment enough?

♥︎ by author

> y/n.alonso - Sigh. I guess

fernandoalo.oficial - Nice kid 😀

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - Gracias papa 😇☺️🫶

username20 - PAPA NANDO APPROVES

username21 - HARD LAUNCH ERA!!

oscarpiastri - 🙂

♥︎ by author

y/n.alonso - Wouldn’t have you any other way 🙂

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kimkaelyn · 1 year ago

Text

Ditto [s. todoroki]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈

→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

→ word count: 13.1k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻

The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.

It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.

The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.

The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.

“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.

You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.

As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.

“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.

Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.

“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.

You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.

“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.

“Thank you.”

Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”

You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.

Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.

The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.

The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.

“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”

Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”

Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”

You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.

However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”

“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.

Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.

Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.

It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.

Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.

Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.

You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.

With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.

It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.

You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.

“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.

“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.

The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”

“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.

“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”

The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”

Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.

“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”

You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.

As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.

You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.

By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.

Todoroki may think otherwise.

As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.

He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.

It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.

“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.

“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.

You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.

“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.

Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.

You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.

You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.

“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.

I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.

To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.

The he in question?

Shouto Todoroki.

It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.

You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.

Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.

Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.

“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.

You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.

The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.

“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.

“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.

“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”

“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”

“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.

“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.

“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.

“These look delicious!”

“Woah, man, they look amazing!”

“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”

You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.

“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.

“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.

You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”

There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.

“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.

“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.

“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”

You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”

You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.

“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”

You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.

Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.

“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”

You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.

“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”

“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.

Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.

As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.

What the hell? you thought.

“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.

“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”

You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.

“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.

“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”

“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”

“What—?”

“Mina, why—?”

Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.

“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.

“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.

You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.

After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.

“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.

“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.

Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”

You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.

“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.

It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.

I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.

“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.

“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.

Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.

One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”

Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.

“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.

“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.

“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”

“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.

“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.

Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”

Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.

“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.

The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.

“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.

“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”

“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.

Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.

Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”

Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”

“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.

“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.

“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.

The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.

As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.

Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.

“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.

“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.

“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.

“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.

“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.

The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.

“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.

“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.

“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.

“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.

“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”

“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”

“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.

“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”

Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”

“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”

You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.

“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.

“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”

“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.

Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.

“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.

You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”

You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.

The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.

Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.

You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.

Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.

The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.

“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”

You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.

“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”

You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.

“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”

Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”

“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”

Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.

“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”

You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”

“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”

You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”

“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”

You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”

“Shouto,” he corrected.

You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”

You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”

The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.

“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.

His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.

“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”

You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.

“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”

“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”

The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”

You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.

The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.

“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”

“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”

He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.

Your breath caught at what you saw.

His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.

“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”

His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.

“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”

You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”

Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.

The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.

It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.

For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.

You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.

“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”

Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”

You had no retort for that.

As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.

You weren’t any better, though.

If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.

Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

3 months later . . .

“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.

“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.

“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”

“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.

“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.

You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”

Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”

“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.

You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.

“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.

You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.

“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.

Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”

“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”

“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”

“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.

Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”

You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”

You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”

“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.

“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”

The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.

“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”

“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.

“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.

Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”

“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.

“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.

“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”

You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”

“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”

“The early morning runs,” Asui added.

“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”

Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”

You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.

The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”

You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“We could see it from a mile away.”

You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”

“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”

“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”

You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.

“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”

“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”

“What?!”

“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”

You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”

“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”

“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”

“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.

You understood immediately. “Oh.”

“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”

“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”

You nodded. “You have a point.”

“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.

“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.

“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”

The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.

You were screwed.

“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”

The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”

“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”

“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”

As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.

Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.

Until one day . . .

You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.

“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”

“Are you seriously sayin—?”

A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”

You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”

All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.

As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.

“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.

“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.

“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.

“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.

“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?

“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.

“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.

“I like him a little.”

“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”

“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”

Oooohhhhh.

Fuck.

Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—

“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.

FUCK!

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”

Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”

Oh God, how much did he overhear?

“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”

You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.

“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.

Oh great, he’s annoyed!

“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”

“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”

“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”

“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.

“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”

You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”

Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.

There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.

He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.

Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.

“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.

“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”

What.

“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.

Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”

You blinked some more. “What?”

“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.

What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.

The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.

“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”

WHAT!?

“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—

No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”

Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.

“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”

He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”

You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.

“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.

You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.

The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.

“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.

“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.

“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.

“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.

Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”

The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.

“I’LL END YOU!”

Fin.

→ extras: snapshot 1, snapshot 2, fic tag

No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing or inserted into any type of AI generator. Do not recommend my work on TikTok. Do not repost on YouTube.

#shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x reader #shoto x reader #fic: ditto #todoroki x you #shoto x you #shouto x you

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witchywcmans · 11 months ago

Text

FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 4.8k

song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine

author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.

He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.

It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.

The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.

What a foolish girl you had become.

You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.

You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. “It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”

Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?

There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.

You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.

“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.

His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”

His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”

“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”

He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.

“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you … are you angry with me?”

“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”

You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.

“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”

“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”

“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”

His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”

“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”

“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.

“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”

Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”

He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”

“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”

Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”

He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.

“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.

“What?” Your curiosity peaked.

“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”

You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.

It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”

He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”

Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”

His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”

“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”

Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.

As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”

“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”

Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.

Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”

You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.

His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.

It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”

He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.

As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.

“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”

He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”

After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you.

Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”

You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”

“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”

His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.

“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”

You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”

He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”

When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.

Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.

With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”

“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.

You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.

“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.

His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.

“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”

He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …”

You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”

Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.

He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.

“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.

Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”

His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.

His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.

Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”

“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”

And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.

Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”

Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.

His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”

You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”

#my fics #fic: forbidden fruit #laios touden x reader #laios touden smut #laios x reader #laios touden x reader smut #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #one shot: forbidden fruit #fic: please eat

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