#Also this was my first attempt at dramatic lighting

[selunefae]

Your special day (+18) - Caleb (Love and Deepspace)

You're tired of Caleb putting your needs above his own. So, on his birthday, you decide to give him a very special gift.

masterlist

rating: +18, MDNI

word count: 2,777

tags: caleb (lads) x reader, smut, fem!reader, afab!reader

content warnings: shameless smut, oral sex (male receiving), PnV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, sensory deprivation, blindfolds, dom/sub undertones, use of petnames (baby, babygirl, princess)

notes: I know his birthday is in a few days, but oh well, early present. This oneshot doesn't follow the storyline of the new card. It's also written with the MC in mind, but it's ambigous enough to be interpreted as anything. I wanted to try something new, but I don't know how it turnt out, so tell me what do you think! (English is not my first languages, the work is neither proofread nor betaread, sorry for any mistakes).

You enter your apartment first. There's a flash of desperation in your step; the day hasn’t gone quite as you planned.  The click of the door behind you barely registers until you hear the faint hunk of Caleb closing it, and then it hits you all at once -

“You’re always taking care of me,” you abruptly turn around to face him. You fold your arms, trying to sound stern but landing somewhere between exasperated and pouty. “Caleb, it’s your birthday, and I’m still the center of everything. You’re more worried about what I want than enjoying your day.”

His expression changes when he sees you. That quiet softness creeps into his face - the way his eyes narrow like you’re the most precious thing in his world, and the way his mouth tilts like he can’t decide whether to smile or apologize. It’s not condescension, you’re well aware of it. It’s just fondness.  He opens his mouth to speak, and you already know what’s coming. Some lame cheesy line about you being his joy, his light, and the only gift he needs. 

So you cross the room and shut him up with a finger to his lips.

“Don’t say it!” You cut him with a frown. “I don’t wanna hear it!”

Caleb laughs (or as much as he can with your finger still pressed firmly to his lips). His lips curl into a wide smile beneath your touch, and his eyes crinkle at the corners, like he’s watching you throw a tantrum instead of being genuinely annoyed. He’s not taking you seriously!

You blow out a harsh, dramatic sigh and let your hand drop from his face with a light little slap against your leg. Your shoulders sag as if he’s worn you down by doing absolutely nothing, which, somehow, he has.

“Look,” you start, voice pitched somewhere between a sigh and a command, “since you’re clearly incapable of thinking about yourself for even one second of your entire life -” you shoot him a look, “ - just let me have this moment to give you something. To show you how much I love you.”

That brings his attention, but he still doesn’t say anything.

“So just this once… let me be the one who takes care of you,” you continue as you turn and cross the room toward a nearby drawer. You open it up and slip something out. Caleb’s been observing, but it’s impossible to identify what it is from his angle. Next, you hide it behind your back and turn to face him again with wide eyes and faux innocence. “Okay?”

Caleb tilts his head, that grin never fading. His gaze flickers down, trying to sneak a look at the hand you’ve tucked behind your back. He leans just slightly to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse, but you shift with him, stubborn in your effort to keep it hidden. After another couple of futile attempts, he gives up. “Okay.”

You step closer, letting your fingers brush the fabric behind your back. “Good,” you murmur. “Now, turn around.”

His brows lift in amusement. But again, no questions. He turns.

You close the distance between you in a few more steps. Then, with the same care he always shows you, you lift the soft black fabric and raise your hands. You pause for a second, your voice quiet behind him. “Do you trust me?”

He nods.

And so, you tie the blindfold in place, snug and careful, over his eyes. He seems confused at first, lashes fluttering against the blindfold while he gets used to the sudden absence of light. However, the hesitation fades the moment your hand brushes gently down the center of his back.

He exhales, muscles relaxing beneath your touch.

“You good?” you ask, voice low beside his ear, your fingers tracing the line of his spine with just enough pressure to be reassuring.

“Yeah,” he’s calm even without seeing you. He knows he can trust you. “I’m good.”

You smile at the answer, then reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. “If at any moment you feel uncomfortable,” you whisper,  guiding him carefully through the hallway, “you tell me. Okay?”

He squeezes your hand. “Yes, okay.”

You reach the bedroom in silence, the only sound the soft creak of the floorboards under your feet and the occasional brush of your shoulder against his arm. You lead him with care, fingers still laced with his, until his knees make contact with the edge of the bed.

“Sit.”

He lowers himself onto the mattress with the same composed ease he carries everywhere, not nervous at all. He hears your feet padding away from the bed. The blindfold doesn’t let him follow your movements, but he waits eagerly. And then, just when he starts to lean forward to say something, you’re back. You approach from behind, and he feels the bed dip with your weight. Before he can register what you’re doing, he feels your lips graze the sensitive skin just below his ear. You press feather-light kisses along the curve of his neck, following the slope down to the place where it meets his shoulder. You take your time. Let him feel the heat of your breath and the press of your mouth. He inhales sharply, shoulders twitching as he tilts his head to grant you better access. 

You linger behind him for a few moments longer, pressing one last kiss before your hands begin to move. Your fingers slide over his chest, and you find the hem of his shirt, slipping your hands beneath it as your palms meet warm, smooth skin. He lets out a soft breath as your touch glides upward. His arms lift, allowing you to pull the shirt over his head and off in one clean motion. 

The shirt falls to the floor, forgotten.

Now, with his torso bare and waiting, you shift your position on the bed, circling to his side so you can have a better view. From this angle, it’s impossible not to stare: his chest rises and falls in slow beats, the last golden light of sunset casting soft shadows over him. It traces the lines of his body - his broad shoulders, the strength in his arms, the defined cut of his abs, and the faint flush spreading across his pale skin. You reach up and cradle his jaw with a gentle hand, bringing his face towards yours. The blindfold is still on his eyes, but his body has a lightning-fast response. Your lips meet in a soft kiss. It starts simple and sweet, but it doesn’t last much. He leans into it almost immediately, kissing you back with the kind of hunger that makes your heart beat too fast. His hands find your waist, grounding himself in the naked curves of your body, while the other reaches up the back of your neck, urging you closer. 

You smile into the kiss and bite.

Just the lightest pressure on his lower lip, to remind him who’s in control today. You feel the moment his composure starts to slip, and before he can catch it, you deepen the kiss. You slip your tongue inside his mouth, moving with flexible, rough strokes.

He groans against your mouth, low-pitched and full of lust. His hand tightens on your hip. 

You shift your weight and climb into his lap. His breath hitches, and his hands instinctively move to grab a handful of your ass, but you catch them before they reach their goal. 

Your fingers wrap around both of his wrists and lift his hands over his head.

“Ah-ah,” you murmur between kisses, “let me be in charge tonight.”

He exhales a laugh, biting down. “Or what?” He asks, grinning.

You lean in close, brushing your nose against his, your voice just above a whisper. “ Don’t make me tie you up too. ”

He relaxes completely beneath you, hands still in your grasp, head tilted back with a smile that makes your pulse thrum a little faster. You take your time. Let your lips find his cheek, then the curve of his jaw. From there, you trail kisses down his throat until he exhales a shaky breath that catches halfway through. You keep going. Down across his chest, the space between his ribs, his abdomen… He can’t see you, but every soft press of your lips feels magnified in the dark.

As you slide off the bed and sink to your knees before him, you hear a gasp. 

Your hands move to his belt, and you feel the way he shifts under your touch, muscles flexing in anticipation. You make him wait, slowly undoing the buckle and sliding the fabric free. As you begin to lower the rest of his clothes, your gaze lifts briefly to his face. He looks wrecked already - lips parted, chest rising, and a single drop of sweat sliding down the column of his neck.

When you finally pull back to take him in fully, you lick your lips, heat building low in your belly.

Oh,  he is hard. And you’ve barely done anything.

Your fingers curl around his cock, making some experimental strokes. His hips twitch in response, and his chest starts to rise harder with each passing second. You lean in, close enough that he can feel your breath ghosting over him. His hands spasm wherever they rest, retrained only by the weight of your earlier words (although you know he has the strength to take your face and fuck it if he wanted to).

“Fuuuuuck, baby - you’re gonna be the death of me.”

Your lips graze over the sensitive skin of the tip at last, dick pulsing and impossibly hard in your hand. You start to give him kitten licks as your hand continues stroking, pulling more hard breaths out of his lungs. 

You take your time, but eventually, you wrap your lips around him. 

Caleb’s jaw clenches, a soft, choked sound escaping him as your mouth closes over the bulbous head. His whole body tightens, and the hand that had been hovering by his side finds the back of your head, but he doesn’t push.

For the first time, he is the one melting beneath you. 

“God, princess,” he praises. “You’re so good for me.”

You hum in response, and the vibration alone has him cursing under his breath. You continue sucking audibly, dipping your head a few times with a fist around the base to help you. You pump and lick, feeding him deeper, inch by inch, down your throat and moaning every time his cock twitchs inside you.

Time stretches. His soft praises turn to loud moans, his voice broken and low. He’s not restraining his sounds anymore, hand gently caressing your hair as you suck heartily.  

After some more time, you feel his body tense, his grip more rigid on your scalp, and that’s when you pull away.

You let his cock slip from your mouth with a pop , your breath unsteady as you wipe the slick from your lips with the back of your hand. Caleb groans and collapses fully onto the bed, one arm flung above his head, the other clutching at the sheets. You climb onto the bed and straddle his hips, your bare cunt brushing agasint his hard in a way that makes you both gasp. You shift forward just enough to let your clit graze his length, teasing him. You move slowly, rolling your hips in tight circles, dragging soft moans from your own throat. His hands reach for you on instinct, fingers grazing your thighs, finding your waist -

“What did I tell you?” You lean down so your mouth brushes his ear, guiding his wrists back above his head and pinning them with a grin.

His fingers flex under your grip, testing the invisible boundary you’ve set - it’d be so easy to just snap and have his way with you. “You’re really not gonna let me touch you, huh?”

You shake your head, smiling against his skin. “Not tonight.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re evil,” he says, not even trying to hide the lust in his voice. “Beautiful and evil.”

You decide to put on a show. Since he can’t see you, every movement becomes even more electric. You roll your hips again, this time with more purpose, letting the friction soak his dick with your fluids. Your lips stay close to his ear as you begin to whisper dirty promises of what you’re going to do to him.

He lets his head fall back to the mattress, a soft curse slipping from his lips. He’s enjoying the little contact he has with you, even if his cock is eager to fill you up.

“You feel so good and big,” you whimper, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “And you’re not even inside me yet.”

That draws a shudder from him. His jaw tenses, and he tilts his head toward the sound of your voice. You lean back, your hands dragging down his chest, nails leaving red lines over his milky skin. And then, you reach between your bodies, lining him up your entrance.

His whole body stills.

“Please,” he begs.

And what kind of person are you to deny him?

Without further preamble, you sink onto him with a tremulous cry.

You pause, taking in the pleasure. He feels just so good inside you, with a cock thick enough to split you open, and long enough to fill you up to the brim. He reaches the deepest parts of you, and though your gulping little hole aches and stretches to accommodate him, you snuggle with your head in the space between his neck and shoulder and shower him with kisses. 

Once you’re used to his size, you start to rock your hips exactly how you like it, letting your clit grind against his pelvis with every thrust. 

Caleb’s hands curl into fists. He’s doing everything he can to let you have control. But the way your pussy squeezes around him and your moans fall, it’s a miracle he’s still managing not to fuck you stupid. 

You pick up your pace, making his cock hit that spot inside you perfectly every single time. Your walls tighten around him. Every shift sends a jolt through you, pleasure sparking brighter and sharper each time. You're getting close, oh so close, and your strength is beginning to falter.

Caleb must have felt it, because without a word, his hands find your hips. In one swift motion, you’re beneath him. The mattress dips under your bodies, and a surprised gasp escapes you as he takes over completely. Even blindfolded, he knows exactly how to move - he knows every inch of your body and what you like. He sets a rougher rhythm, and his cock reaches deeper from this position. Your moans come quicker now, rising in pitch as the pressure builds. His fingers slide down the length of your body until they find your aching spot. He rubs circles on your clit  matching the speed of his thrusts. All coherent thoughts leave your head, and you can only think of his hard length impaling you.

“Are you gonna come, babygirl?” he pants agaisnt your neck. “C’mon, baby, come for me.”

Your body starts to tremble as you fall apart, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and mouth gaping in a silent scream.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he praises as he continues to rub slow circles in your clit to help you come down of your orgasm.

After you finish, he pauses. You start to get up to complain, thinking he might stop, putting your pleasure first, like he always does. But then, without a warning, he tightens his grip on your hips and thrusts back into you with sudden intensity, dragging a gasp from your lips.

“Not done,” he grits, voice thick with need.

The rhythm he finds is harder now, more desperate. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, panting against your skin, the squelches of your cunt and his moans filling the room. Your legs cling to him, letting him chase his release, your name falling from his lips between gasps. His pace grows uneven and then - he stills, thrusting as deep as he can. 

You feel his cum spilling deep inside you.

He collapses above you, trying not to squeeze you with his weight. You reach up and brush his damp hair from his forehead. Neither of you says a word for a long moment, just holding each other, hearts pounding in sync. 

Wrapped in his arms, you press a kiss to his temple.

“Happy birthday.”

[greeneyeofenvy]

old art again

idk for any od their names

[doubleedgemode]

The Dandy with his Hand on his chest

I wanted to do a big piece before the month ended and I had been thinking on drawing a study of "The Nobleman with his Hand on his Chest" by El Greco with Slayer for a good while, because I adore that painting and believe it fits him, since it has a mysterious yet noble aura to me. Very dandy!

I love Slayer's Rev2 Color 4, so I got really happy when it returned as Color 10 in Strive, now with a very stylish nail polish, too.

[intromortal]

✷ LIQUID SWEETENER ⸻ sim jaeyun

jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care, fingering, praise, degradation (use of slut like once? and pet), he's mostly very sweet tho i promise, oral f!rec, squirting, mentions of free use, multiple orgasms, quick aftercare, jake comes untouched he's down bad sorry ! ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ��� oneshot ⸻ 5.2k words

✷ NIA — i finally got around to rewriting this omfg. this rewrite is for my sweet @heechwe and all the nonnies who asked for this to be posted again <3

It's not everyday Jake gets to take care of you, so when you're all sickly and weak, it's hard to evade his attentions no matter how hard you try.

Jake pouts when you shoot down yet another attempt to get you to take your medicine. "Why don't you just chug it? I promise it's not as bad as you think."

He’s been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin.

"If it's not as bad as I think, why are you suggesting I just chug it?" Your voice is slightly muffled as you eye him suspiciously from under the heavy cover pulled up all the way to your nose.

"You're the one insisting it's disgusting without even trying it, I asked for the best flavor possible when I got it." He made sure to pick out a syrup that doesn't taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he can picture it right in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again—which you wouldn't agree to take anyway.

For how much you hate being sick, you seem to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.

“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighs, resting the cap filled to the brim with honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge. He licks whatever residue is left on his sticky fingers. "Really not that bad. It's sweet."

"So it's not good either," you huff back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep. "I'm not even that sick anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jake looks at you with an arched brow, then points his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding grounds for bio terrorism allegations.”

He stops you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispers against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.

“Just wan’ you.”

His plump lips thin into that gorgeous wide smile of his as he speaks,“but you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?”

He knows very well what you mean, and a frustrated grumble spills out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wants you to say the quiet part out loud. Neither of you is used to going without pleasuring each other for long periods of time, and anything longer than three days is eons according to Jake. You're surprised he's behaved as well as he has this past week, you thought he would be the one to cave in first.

“Want…more,” you crank one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slips in it. You blink a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observes you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.

If Jake has to be completely honest with himself, he's not particularly sad at you being a little sick. 

Sure, it sounds mean when he says it out loud, but you're not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoys doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl has a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work. 

You're always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoys knowing he's helping make it at least a little better for once.

You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he's making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprays on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.

Jake takes notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it.

Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licks away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick doesn't help, being physically weak and needing rest doesn't stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you have nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupts your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You look up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he's about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”

Really not being dramatic, but you're pretty sure a boulder just crushed you right on your chest. You groan, turning to the other side so you can properly sulk without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you'd love to ride as soon as possible.

“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice is muffled by the pillow currently squished against your face.

“What are you even doing.”

“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me.” You grab the sides of the pillow and push them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles. 

“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he whispers, and the loving tone makes your body feel light.

You suddenly push yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement. “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”

He looks at you for a moment, really looks at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too misses your touch, far more than what he lets on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions. He often found himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom, trying not to wake you up because he knew if you caught him he wouldn't be able to get out of your claws.

And you really need the rest.

As if sensing his resolve wavering, you add, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”

“A reward… for what?” Jake is thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever get like this, and he enjoys every second of it. You can tell because he's pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. On any other occasion he would've been all over you before you could even finish your sentence. But Jake doesn't care, not when he doesn't know when the next time he gets to hear you beg a little for him is gonna be.

“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”

“You still have a fever though,” he says. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”

“That.” You glare at him with all the fake anger you can muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”

“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”

“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words die in your throat as you feet the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee.

"No, no. Keep talking." He slowly gets under the covers, and it's not because he's testing your reaction. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.

You try to hide the way you gulp, eyes still fixed on his body as he gets comfortable on his side, facing you.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispers against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he sneaks an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his chest. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”

You reach for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guide it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you grind against it.

"I suppose you've had enough rest."

You take notice of how his breath hitches in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you use his hand. The illusion wears off even more when he tries to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You know he wants it just as bad as you do, you're just willing to beg for it as long as it gets you what you want.

“I’ll—” you gasp when he flexes his fingers that tiny little bit you need to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”

“Anything?” his voice is light and airy as he moves the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickles your neck, Jake’s mouth dipping down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Anything, just… please,” you whine, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.

Had you not been so deprived of Jake’s touch, you would have found the way you're grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you're desperate, so you can't bring yourself to care too much about how pathetic you probably look to anyone else.

The only people in the room are you and Jake anyway, and he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it. His cock is stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you are through your shorts. Dripping already and he barely touched you.

"You're so fucking hot. You know that?" Jake nibbles the shell of your ear, making you arch further in his hold. “You'll do anything you said? How about you take your medicine then?” He moves his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak attempts at clawing his arm to get the little taste of pleasure he took away from you back.

He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”

“Take my medicine,” you whimper, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little piece of shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.

“Theeeere we go,” Jake sings in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”

You nod, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound could make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh comes up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smooths over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.

“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbles, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your scent. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole and soaking your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.

His free hand finally slides under your shorts,and a gasp leaves you because of how cold he feels. Jake is always warmer than you, but your fever makes it so his touch feels icy against your skin. Your back arches slightly when one of his digits parts your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.

“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggles into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly drags them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”

Usually, his stupid little jokes would’ve made you groan and push his face away. But this time—blame his voice for being deeper and hoarser than normal, or blame your fever—it makes you clench around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he takes his sweet time playing with you, savoring the moment.

Your head digs deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.

“So needy…” he breathes into your neck and goes back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he can reach.

A yelp leaves your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you closed shooting open when Jake bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smooths over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, the pleasure overriding anything else. 

Jake finally prods two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction is instantaneous, cunt fluttering against his fingertips right away. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”

Jake is so fucking turned on, he can barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind is get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He feels like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life is just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seems different to him, almost animalistic, from the way you rut your hips against his hand as soon as he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, to the way you aren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this is just from his fingers, he can do so much worse.

You yourself aren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you help Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you feel from the fever. His fingers are so long, hitting all the right spots you know you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles drag against your walls so deliciously.

“S-so good,” you gasp when he turns his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knows has you coming undone in just a few strokes.

The room is filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You can feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashes on you, heavy and almost painful. You claw at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake is not facing you anymore.

He looks at the comforter, over his shoulder. The cap filled with syrup is still there amidst the mess. He twists his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he's fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spill onto his shirt as he takes a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tries his best to hold it in his mouth. You're still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty to the point you don't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend is providing you with.

“J-Jake, I’m so close.”

Perfect timing.

Jake grabs your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure you've learned means it is time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he know you to be. And you do just that; immediately following his movements like he trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure.

He bends down slightly to aim better, but this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expect, he lets small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.

You uselessly try to back away from him, but he holds you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor does he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand holds your jaw open, grasp getting firmer every time you try to break free from it. After all, you made a promise, and Jake's going to make sure you fulfill it.

“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouths against your lips once he makes sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”

He smashes his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss but a silencing of any complaint you're about to spit at him. Those turn to even more whines when he finally brings his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucks you to your orgasm. It's almost instantaneous, you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth, but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit.

“That’s it baby, so good for me, yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slow down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too relishes in how your cunt pulses around his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh, he wishes it was his cock being constricted like that instead, but that can wait.

You finally feel like you can breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you possibly can, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.

The sheets are drenched around you, and you can't even pinpoint when it happened, but you can immediately tell you aren't the only one who made a mess. Your gaze wanders to Jake’s pants, and a very evident stain on his crotch catches your attention. And fuck, if you aren't ready to do it all over again.

Jake looks absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste, truly.

You sneak your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake lets out when you wrap your hand around his cock and pump a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.

Jake watches you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you lick your fingers clean. He slides his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up just as much as you did him. His heart races in his chest as you keep looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.

“That was so…” you speak up, giggling when Jake interrupts you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”

“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”

Jake curls an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He places a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”

“Well I still hav–” 

“And won’t.” he deadpans, sensing where you're trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

You smile to yourself, feeling feather light kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He places a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grab a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rests his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you say, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzles his head further against your skin.

“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He places another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you take too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”

“Jake. I’m being serious.”

“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughs at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”

“You are downright insufferable.”

“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”

The rest of the sentence is muffled against your mound as you push his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggle as you lay back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue makes contact with your cunt.

Jake's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as he takes his sweet time collecting all of the slick coating your lips and smearing it all over your skin. It's methodical in a way Jake very rarely is, nothing like the primal and messy mixing of his own spit with your arousal and grunting noises you're so used to. When he gets like this, it's purely to tease you.

You grab a fistful of his hair, the strands soft in your hand, and raise his head to force him to look at you.

You almost regret it when you're met with the sight of him licking his lips, his plump lips spreading in a grin that looks almost evil. His irises are entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils, and you'd be lying if you said it doesn't send a chill down your spine. The good kind, the type that also makes you clench your thighs against his frame.

"If you're gonna beg me to eat me out," you say, finding your strength again and being careful not to let Jake see any weakness on your features. "You better do it properly."

You try to keep a straight face when he erupts in a fit of giggles.

"Oooh, look at you—" he starts, clearly amused by your attempt to assert dominance. "I know what I'm doing. You know I know what I'm doing. It just seems to me that I've spoiled the princess a little too much lately." He lowers his head to your thighs, and litters soft kisses as he makes himself comfortable again. Somewhere along the lines, the harsh hold you had on his hair turned into your hand dragging him closer, but you can't pinpoint the exact moment.

Or you just really don't care to know, not when Jake starts lapping up at your cunt like he's starving.

"You taste so delicious, baby," he moans between licks, his nose pressing further into your heat with every movement of his. "So much better than any medicine. Fuck—you're gonna be my little cure from now on. Every time I'm sick, I'll just let you open your legs for me. You'd let me, baby. Wouldn't you?"

You nod vehemently, before realizing he can't see you. "Yes, please use me," you moan, spreading your thighs as far as you can while pushing his head closer to you, even when it's almost physically impossible for Jake to even breathe. Not that he would have it any other way.

The grip on his hair, the way you push and pull at it as if you have any command over the stimulation he's giving you, the way you sing for him with every flick of his tongue. It all makes Jake's head spin in the best way possible, his cock stiff again in his pants and throbbing against the very fabric he ruined with his cum only minutes before.

He grunts and moans into you, like he's the one being pleasured, and it all adds to the magic Jake is working on you. The vibrations only aiding in inching you closer to the second orgasm of the day.

"Jake, I'm close, please."

You don't need to say anything else, because he parts from your cunt for a single second. Just enough to let a gobble of his spit drip down right on your engorged clit, coating it in more shiny essence.

You're about the complain about the lack of stimulation, but he dives right back in, licking a singular stripe from your poor mess a of hole upwards. He can taste the remains of the syrup in his own spit still, and paired with the straight up divine taste of your own slick, Jake thinks he might be in heaven.

"So sweet, baby. So fucking sweet. It's like you want me to never stop fucking you with my tongue." He catches your little bundle of nerves between his raw lips, already wet with spit, suckling on it like he's trying to coax even more wetness out of you. He swirls his tongue around it, his eyebrows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration as he keeps toying and prodding at every single part of your pussy.

You're so unbelievably close to coming undone, every passing second just bringing you closer to the brink. All it takes to send you over the edge is Jake moaning with your numb right in his mouth, the small vibrations from it all you needed for the searing white feeling to envelop you completely, the familiar silent yet still deafening tingly sensation spreading from your core to all the limbs in your body.

Jake keeps lapping up all your generous body gives him, thankful for it all and careful not to let a single drop go to waste.

Your arm is thrown over your eyes as you catch your breath, this second orgasm completely emptying you of whatever energy you had left. Usually you would offer Jake to help him out as a little thank you, even though he told you time and time again that it wasn't needed and pleasing you what was got him off in the first place.

But as much as you denied it initially, the fever did take a toll on you, more than you would like to admit. So any further activity would have to wait.

"Yummy." Jake comes up from below you, drying the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand. Even if you're tired and spent, the comment is enough to make you remove your arm from your eyes just so you can give him a well deserved death stare.

He gets up from the bed, disappearing for a few seconds into the bathroom. "What's with that look? No 'thank you Jake, you're the best?'"

When you don't reply, far too weakened to even try to banter with your boyfriend, he walks back into the room with a towel and a worried look etched on his gorgeous features.

He gets on the bed again, careful not to move your body more than necessary, and starts cleaning you up with the gentlest touch you've ever felt him use. "Did i tire you out too much? You're still sick—"

"You were great. Don't worry," you stop his train of thoughts you knew you wouldn't hear the end of if you let him go on for any longer. "I just need a nap, then I'll be as good as new."

The tension in Jake's shoulders only disappears once you smile at him, his own face morphing to match your own. It's one of your favorite things about him, how he's so careful and attentive to every hint and feeling on your face, he ends up mirroring them without even noticing.

He runs his hands soothingly all over your skin as he resumes cleaning you up, the room falling into a peaceful silence.

You almost fall asleep, but you should've known Sim Jake shutting up for once was far too good to be true.

"Look at the mess you made though. This is enough to start an entire pharmacy."

[ihangelic]

KISS CULTURE ꒱ m.jaehyun

synopsis. after his xmas date doesn’t go to plan, you’re now taking care of a sick and clingy jaehyun that’s determined to get you under the mistletoe despite everything. (alternatively: jaehyun’s sick, horny, and very persuasive.)

pair. jaehyun x afab!reader

genre. smut but also lots of fluff, small attempts at humor

warnings. established relationship, jae’s endearingly annoying, no pronouns used for reader, petnames (baby, ‘princess’ used twice), switch vibes? (not sure but it’s hot), making out, reader wears knee-high socks & jae really likes them, kitchen sex, oral (reader receiving), hardly mentioned exhibitionism? (you fuck in front of a window but nobody can see), jae licks your thighs lol, creampie, aftercare

wc. 4.7k

note. #thighmanjaehyun (>u<) please consider reblogging if you like this! it helps spread an author’s work and gives us motivation to write more. <3

copyright of @/ihangelic

it’s 7:30 in the evening. by this time jaehyun thought he’d have your hand in his and your cup of hot coco in the other, walking while looking at the christmas lights and displays— probably stopping every so often when a cute little shop catches your eye. and then jaehyun would take the opportunity to ‘coolly’ pick up whatever you’re admiring right after you set it down, insisting on buying it for you.

well, he certainly isn’t looking very cool right now and neither does he feel it— because you have him lying down in your bed, wrapped in 3 layers of blankets despite him sincerely trying to tell you he’s not even cold.

“i knew there was a possibility we’d end up in bed together by the end of the night, but i didn’t think you’d be the one to make the first move.” jaehyun jokes, signature puppy smile and laugh suddenly disappearing when a cough distorts his features.

“oh my gosh, baby. just shut up and lay down.”

you nag like a worried mother as you try to make jaehyun lay against the angled pillows you’ve tentatively arranged— rather than sitting up on your headboard like he currently is.

“wow, so desperate. not even gonna do a little foreplay before you get in my pants?”

“jaehyun!”

he giggles, all maniacal and cute like usual, making it all the way through without coughing this time.

“see that!” your boyfriend points out the small triumph, sitting up again right after you finally got him to lay in the right position. you don’t withhold your sigh of disapproval.

“i don’t even feel that bad! it’s just a little migraine and drainage. i can still take you out, baby.”

“no. going outside will probably just make you worse. we’re staying in and i’m taking care of you.” you insist.

jaehyun pouts, looking up at you with boba eyes that beg for you to just let him take you on the date he came over to execute. his cute little face almost convinces you if it weren’t for his ‘shining’ eyes that eventually drip from how watery they are, realizing it’s from irritation.

“i’ll go get you some tissues.” you say with concern, standing up immediately as the first tear streaks down his cheek. jaehyun groans and his cheeks burn in embarrassment, cringing at his failed attempt to ‘woo’ you into having his way while rubbing at the moisture with his sleeve.

you return quickly with a box of tissues cradled against your body, a bottle of medicine and cup of water in either of your hands.

“nooooo!” jaehyun childishly whines, flopping his head against your pillows and splaying his arms for extra dramatics. you’re not sure if the reaction is because he’s anticipating the gross taste of the medicine or if he sees taking the liquid as admitting defeat; that yes, he is in fact sick— and that means taking you out for a date is totally out of the question.

“yunie, come on. be good and take your medicine.”

he responds with a sigh, but otherwise gives in without any fight, surprising even himself with a sudden wave of weakness. (and…okay, maybe he isn’t feeling at his best right now.) so he begrudgingly lets you play nurse, defiant wiggling against the sheets coming to a stop— but it isn’t without a grumpy pout on his face as he refuses to look at you.

(you can't help but find his avoidant eyes and immature act a little cute.)

“good boy.” you say without thinking, focusing on opening the childproof lid of the medicine bottle.

but your boyfriend definitely notices the little pet name, his heart jumping as his eyes flick to your face for just a second before he remembers he’s supposed to be pouting, looking back down to his hands resting over his blanket covered chest.

unbeknownst to your boyfriend's inner struggle, you pour the thick purple liquid inside the cap until it reaches the measuring line, sitting the bottle down and slowly bringing the medicine to jaehyun’s mouth. he responds exactly how you thought he would— which isn’t well.

jerking his head to the side to escape the cursed purple sludge that the bottle’s wrapper swears is flavored ‘bursting berry blast’ (whatever the fuck that means? jaehyun doesn’t want his berries to burst nor blast), he simultaneously grabs your wrist that holds the cap.

you’re not annoyed— honestly you’re still pretty endeared by your crybaby of a boyfriend. but you do actually want him to take the medicine. he needs it. so you try to put your foot down, sighing a little more roughly before speaking.

“baby, please don’t make this difficult. i think you’ll survive one swig.”

“i hate that stuff, y/n! it makes me gag!”

you poorly resist laughing at how ridiculous jaehyun looks as he desperately tries to puppy-dog eye his way out of the situation again, in the back of your mind wondering how often you’ve let him have his way for him to repeatedly try this trick on you.

“tough it out, princess.”

“God, you’re so mean to meeee!” he whines and squirms, abruptly stopping with a gasp as you can tell an idea has struck him.

“wait, i know!”

“what?” you ask suspiciously, having this funny feeling that his idea probably doesn’t involve him actually taking the medicine and has everything to do with distracting you.

jaehyun’s bright expression turns into a proud smirk as he lifts a brow while looking at you. “kiss me and then i’ll take the medicine.”

(…well, you were partially right— kinda.)

“take the medicine and then i’ll kiss you.”

and jaehyun (ever the beggar and evidently not the chooser of tonight) agrees. “fine. but pour it down my mouth quickly so i can take this nasty shit like a shot.”

you smile smugly at getting your difficult boyfriend to agree and jaehyun is forced to see your stupidly cocky (yet undeniably pretty) face as one of your hands grasps his tilted chin to make sure he stays in place. leaning closer until your chest to chest (which must excite jaehyun a little, because you swear you hear and feel his breathing pick up at the press of your breasts against his pecs, hand moving to rest on the small of your back), you raise the cap to his lips and he obediently opens them (thank God). doing as he asked, you pour the liquid quickly into his mouth. jaehyun swallows it with a grimace, gagging immediately after.

“quick, kiss me!” he cries as though your lips on his will take the bad taste away.

you pull yourself out of his hold before he can force one on you— jaehyun’s squeezed shut eyes opening wide while he watches with clear betrayal as you get up from the bed to put some extra distance between the two of you.

“you…lied to me?” the boy asks, and you’re shocked at how much guilt strikes your heart when he speaks in such a soft, surprisingly heartbroken sounding tone.

“i’ll still kiss you. i just didn’t say when i’d do it.”

despite trying to say it gently, jaehyun’s eyes still sadly sink to the floor, a pout yet again forming on his lips as he turns on his side and lays down against the pillows. you wait for him to whine and complain so you’ll know he’s back to normal and not legitimately sad— but he doesn’t.

walking forward to the side of the bed he’s occupying, you kneel down, his sad little squished face revealed to you. “baby..when you get better i promise to give you all the kisses you want. you wouldn’t want to get me sick too, would you? then i wouldn’t be able to take care of you.”

“i really don’t think i’m sick though. it just feels like bad allergies.” jaehyun softly rebuttals, shiny eyes looking at your soft gaze adorably. (and at that moment you really do wish you could kiss him.)

combing your nails through his hair as you speak, jaehyun’s eyes flutter shut at the soothing sensations before blinking them slowly open again.

“can’t risk it.” you whisper. “i’m sorry, baby.”

“it’s okay.” he reassures you, moved by your genuine apology. “i was just really looking forward to this evening. while we walked around looking at lights, i wanted to buy you hot coco and stuff from the shops. n’ after i wanted to take you to the pavilion at the square.”

you coo, heart fluttering at how romantic jaehyun can be. “aw, that’s a really good date idea, baby. i bet they have the pavilion decorated all pretty for the holidays.”

“yeah, they do. there’s even mistletoe hung on the ceiling. wanted to kiss you under it while surrounded by all the pretty lights…”

you pause, cheeks warming at his soft confession as giddiness fills your heart. goosebumps cover your arms despite feeling very warm.

you press a kiss against his forehead, unable to help it. jaehyun’s tiny frown turns into a soft smile instead.

“i love you. fuck, you’re the sweetest. don’t talk like we can’t do that anymore just because you’re sick right now. the moment you’re healthy again you better take me on that date.”

jaehyun giggles softly, even when a small cough interrupts it— there’s still a smile on his face.

“you got it, princess. i love you too.”

you wake up in the morning to the soft smell of eucalyptus, the scent left over from the vaporizer you turned on for the night in hopes it would help jaehyun’s drainage.

normally you’d feel the comforting weight of jaehyun’s arms around you, but you don’t. confused, you turn over to see the spot next to you empty. rising from the bed with the intention of finding your missing boyfriend, the moment your feet hit the cold hardwood floors you’re pausing the search to put some high socks on before immediately going back to your pursuit. (it doesn’t take long to find him, being that your apartment isn’t the biggest.) you somewhat groggily walk through the hallway and end up in the kitchen— where you see jaehyun standing over the stove, sizzling something in a pan.

“morning, beautiful!” he smiles, all chipper and completely awake. “do you want an egg over your rice?”

“…aren’t you still sick?” you ask, morning voice apparent— and jaehyun notices it, judging by the teasing little spark in his eyes, but he doesn’t act on it as he responds to you.

“nope, i feel great! all back to normal. i told you it was just allergies, baby.”

“well, i’m glad i was wrong.” you smile, walking closer to wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head on his back. “and yes, i’d like an egg with my rice please.”

“i gotchu, baby. while i finish our breakfast why don’t you go brush your teeth? i recall being promised ‘all the kisses i want’, but i can smell your morning breath from here.”

you gasp with offense and softly slap your hand on jaehyun’s back, the boy laughing as he looks down at your playfully annoyed expression.

“mean!” you whine, failing to conceal your smile.

“i’m just trying to get back at you for last night.” jaehyun defends, apologizes tacked on after to make sure you know he’s genuinely kidding— but regardless you do descend to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth, and rangle with your bed head— not bothering to change out of your cozy pajamas.

you and jaehyun eat his yummy breakfast at your small dining table, the room lit up by the light reflecting off the snow-covered ground outside, shining through your frost framed windows.

after tag teaming the dishes, you’re finishing washing the last plate when you realize jaehyun has left your side.

“jae?” you murmur, setting down the white porcelain and turning your head, only to see your boyfriend absolutely cheesing it up with a sprig of mistletoe between his fingers, holding it above his own head like an adorable idiot.

“oh my God,” you giggle, fondly shaking your head as you abandon the sink and fully turn to face him. “where did you even get that?”

“i may or may not have snuck out early this morning to buy it…” he admits in an almost sheepish tone before quickly covering it up with a ‘flirty’ (endearingly goofy) raise of his brow. “now kiss me! it’s going against culture to not!”

“what culture?” you ask in an incredulous yet obviously amused tone. despite acting difficult, you slowly inch closer and closer to jaehyun.

“chr- christmas culture? saint nick’s? fuck if i know, just kiss me!”

“are you sure you’re not still sick? you sound pretty delirious to me.”

“i’m not!” jaehyun whines dramatically.

you’re unable to control your teasing, even as your feet are about toe to toe with him. “really? i swear your eyes still look a little watery.”

“because, y/n! i’m about to cry if you don’t fucking ki—“

granting him sudden mercy, you wrap your arms around his neck and plant your lips on his.

kissing jaehyun is always amazing, but in this moment it really hits different. the air is warm with the thermostat set high, but your skin remains slightly chilled, creating a heat between the meeting of your mouths. it sends a pleasurable tingle throughout your whole body— and so do jaehyun’s hands, which must have dropped the mistletoe, because they’re roaming all across your back and squeezing appreciatively at your waist and hips.

you’re not sure who’s fault it is for the way things take a turn, the sweet kiss becoming desperate and hungry. maybe it’s the slight chill driving you to want more warmth— the way your nipples remain hard against the rough fabric of your button up pajama shirt, even as jaehyun’s warm hands slip beneath the material to cup your breasts.

all you’re sure of is that you really want to keep kissing jaehyun— but with less clothes.

he must have the same desire because he’s backing you up without breaking the kiss until your back meets the counter, lifting you up and setting you down on it. you wordlessly spread your legs so jaehyun can stand between them, the man humming appreciatively before he eagerly leans into your lips again. his hands work blindly to unbutton your shirt— and judging by the sudden brush of air against your chest bone, he’s doing a good job at it.

when jaehyun parts from your lips to trail his kisses across your jaw and down your neck, a string of spit connects you before shortly breaking. you moan as jaehyun sucks a mark onto the soft part of your neck; the area he knows is your weak spot; that gets you wet and desperate for him every time— while he gently pushes your opened shirt off and lets it slowly fall down your shoulders.

“mmm, jaehyunie. more.” you shudder, your boyfriend responding by grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin of your throat, causing your thighs to tremble with want as you whimper and fist your hands into the material of his shirt.

“look who’s whining now.” jaehyun smirks, his voice taking that deep tone that’s so different from the higher pitched voice he usually speaks with. it sparks a fire in your belly, and suddenly all you want is for him to keep kindling it.

“pleease, yunie. touch me more.”

“okay, baby.” he whispers, leaning down to give one of your nipples a quick peck, leaving it glistening.

jaehyun takes one step back to pull his own shirt over his head, your eyes immediately dropping down to his toned stomach— and then even lower, to his hardened length that’s tenting in the confines of his pants. you’re about to express disappointment that he hasn’t removed them yet, but the words die on your tongue when his hands go to your own waistband.

he takes his sweet time, teasing you by slowly pulling them down. when the peek of your white socks are revealed, starting just below your knees— jaehyun’s trek pauses, eyes zeroing in on the sliver of fabric showing.

“jaehyun?” you ask faintly, the words floating in the air like a snowflake that’s about to dissolve. still, it breaks jaehyun somewhat out of his reverie, previously slow pace gone as he impatiently tugs your pants completely off and drops them carelessly to the floor.

“what are these?” he questions breathlessly, both hands holding your calves tenderly.

“my..socks?” you answer, but your tone sounds like it’s a question— confused as to why your boyfriend seems to like the clothing item so much. they’re just plain, no little bow or detail to them at all. “my friend bought them for me.”

“i like them.” jaehyun confirms, one finger slipping beneath the band of one sock to pull it back and snap it against your skin. an airy gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, feeling your clit pulse between you legs.

“you look so sexy in them, baby.”

“y— yeah?”

“yeah.” he says, a little throaty as he bites his lip, eyes roaming from your calves; thighs; to your pantie covered core. he pulls you by the crook of your knees until you're at the edge of the counter, his hot breath puffing between your legs. “but i think they’d look even better framing my head while i eat you out.”

your heart thrums in surprise as jaehyun pulls your panties to the side and immediately attaches his mouth to your wet pussy, groaning at your taste that coats his tongue as he swipes it through your folds.

nudging at your thighs, you understand his signal as you move your legs to rest on his shoulders. you do think it looks sexy; your legs working as a frame— not because of you, but because of your boyfriend’s face stuffed in your pussy while his usually puppy-like eyes now stare up at you wolfish and hungry. you’re glued to his gaze, unable to look away as your mouth drops open with a moan, jaehyun flicking over your clit with his tongue. the action resounds with a wet sound that has your cheeks burning and toes curling with pleasure as you lean back against your hands.

“please, jaehyunie. please, please.” you beg, mind dwindling into too much of a mess for you to even decipher what it is you’re asking for. but of course your boy seems to understand, slipping a single digit into your wanting cunt.

jaehyun easily pushes in knuckle deep, your eager pussy practically sucking him in— so he adds a second finger and looks back up just in time to see your eyes roll back.

“ah, that’s what princess needed, isn’t it? pussy needs filled up?”

your brain short circuits for a moment before you nod your head, opening your previously squeezed shut eyes to look at him. the second you do, he rewards you with his mouth back on you again, licking and sucking at your clit and folds, moving his head up and down with his enthusiasm. his fingers pump and curl inside your cunt expertly, finding yourself losing control of your reactions and coming closer to release.

jaehyun feels your legs trembling before you’re suddenly hooking your ankles and clenching your thighs around his head, the man moaning in ecstasy as the squishy flesh of your thighs press against his cheeks and create a dizzying pressure on his skull.

his fingers plunge deeper inside of you as his lips stay wrapped around your clit, determined to have you gushing in his mouth— and you do, falling apart with only a wanton whine to warn him as your back arches and eyes close in pleasure.

jaehyun practically growls when he watches your lewd expression as you cum in his mouth; how your hips start to grind against his tongue and fingers as you ride out your high. your skin is now burning hot beneath his fingertips; hair unstyled and a sexy sort of mess as it got disheveled amongst your pleasure; the white light shining through your windows like a halo above your head. (jaehyun’s sure he’s never seen something so beautiful.)

you’re panting when you finally come down, chest heaving and eyes half-lidded as jaehyun licks at his lips, savoring your taste as he stands to his feet.

“still got it in you, baby?” he asks as he looks at you with dark eyes, hand groping himself over his pants.

your pussy yet again clenches with need at the dirty display.

“yes, yunie. want your cock in me.”

at your words, jaehyun pulls his drooling dick out, yanking his pants and underwear down just enough so his balls are free. you slip your panties and socks off (causing jaehyun to curse under his breath at the arousing sight) before getting down from the counter, instead turning around to bend over it. it’s only then that you notice how your windows have the blinds raised up, leaving the two of you completely exposed.

“shit, jae! you just ate me out with the blinds open!”

“yup. and now i’m about to fuck you with the blinds open.”

you lightly flinch when jaehyun slaps his cock against your cunt, smothering it in your juices despite how he’s already lubed up enough by his own slick. despite your muttered words of embarrassment for him to shut the blinds, your back arches as you present yourself to him, causing jaehyun to smirk from behind you.

“nasty little thing, talking like you don’t want to be seen when i can literally see you clenching for it.”

(realistically, you’re on a high floor and the windows are foggy from the temperature difference outside. no one should be able to see you two. but still, the idea excites you and has your pussy pulsing tightly as jaehyun slowly pushes inside.)

“fff— fuck, oh,”

“that’s it.” jaehyun hisses between his own clenched teeth as he looks down, watching how your cunt sucks him in so eagerly— how it molds perfectly around his cock. his sexy voice does nothing to help your quivering and sensitive insides; how your skin almost tingles with arousal. you only lose more control as jaehyun makes his first deep thrust, falling forward onto the counter as your breasts press against the cold marble.

“shit— please!” you choke, but there’s no need to beg as jaehyun sets the pace.

his fingers find home in the softness of your flesh at the bend of your thigh, holding you in place as his balls slap against you with momentum.

you’ve lost all shame, crying out in pleasure as his hard cock invades your insides, cupping your own tits with your hands to play with your peaked nipples. you can hear jaehyun’s pants behind you— which are turning more moaned and broken by the second.

turning your head to see your gorgeous boyfriend, your eyes lock, and it’s evidently your turn to see his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“fucking shit— fuck! baby, you..you look so g—“ he’s unable to even finish his sentence when you clench tighter around him, cutting himself off with a groan as you’re already reacting to his praise before he’s fully said it. “i— i’m..g— gonna cum if you keep doing that. oh my God.”

“do it, jae.” you croon breathlessly, but jaehyun swears it’s like a siren’s call, sinking him further into delirium. “be a good boy n’ cum in me.”

you watch and listen as your boyfriend lets out another string of expletives, fingers tightening around your hips as he snaps into you even deeper— harder. your mouth hangs open in a silent whine as one of your hands keep working at your bud, moving the other down to swirl around your clit. jaehyun’s cock pulses inside you and you feel the electricity in the air; a band of energy pulling so taught it has to snap.

“give it to me, yunie! please!”

and the band breaks— you and jaehyun’s throaty sounds echo in your apartment as he floods your pussy with his cum, your own release dripping down your thighs. your legs tremble yet you still push back against his cock, getting slower and slower until he has to pull out from sensitivity.

you stay in your bent over position, too tired to move but also appreciating the cold of the counter as you lean down and press your cheek against it. you can barely see jaehyun from the angle before he drops to his knees, slightly trembling hands holding onto your thighs. you lift your head, thinking his knees have given out and about to start asking if he’s alright when you feel a stripe being licked up the inner part of your leg.

“jae?”

“just lemme clean you up, baby.” his hot breath puffs against your skin.

you lightly gasp as you feel his hair and nose brushing between your thighs, tongue so close to your heat as he licks up your juices until it’s all gone— and all that remains is a light trail of his glistening saliva from his tentative care.

after tucking himself back inside his pants and grimacing at how dirty he feels, he helps you off the counter and into his arms as you lean against his chest, still finding your strength.

“we need to clean up.” jaehyun whispers reverently, his hand brushing little shapes and swirls into your spine, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“m’ too weak.” you hardly mutter, letting your eyes fall shut.

“baby…did you forget you’re butt-ass-naked in the kitchen right now?”

your eyes snap open. “oh shit.”

“yeah. but don’t worry about it.” jaehyun says, stopping you with a gentle hand when you try to reach down for your clothes that were previously dropped to the floor. “we’ll take a shower together, hm? i’ll help you.”

another tender kiss to your forehead, a little bit of coaxing— and then you give in, letting yourself be led in jaehyun’s arms to the bathroom.

after showering, more kisses, and getting dressed; your energy has returned— and so has jaehyun’s.

“can i take you on the date now!” he exclaims, practically bouncing off the walls in excitement.

“baby, it’s not evening yet. we won’t even be able to see the christmas lights when the sun’s out.” you reason, and luckily that doesn’t dampen jaehyun’s spirit.

“oh, right! well— then we should marathon some christmas movies while we wait!”

your smile is so big you have to bite your lip to try and contain it, as always finding jaehyun’s usual enthusiasm absolutely heart striking and infectious. you nod your head ‘yes’ and he’s already taking your hand to walk you out of the bedroom and into the living area, rambling on about snacking on popcorn; popping some cookies in the oven; and asking if you have eggnog.

but all his words come to a halt when you sneeze behind him, and it’s like you could hear a pin drop or a snowflake fall.

turning his head and looking at you with eyes so wide they look like they’re about to pop out of his skull, jaehyun’s voice shakes. “please, for saint nick’s fucking sake— please do not tell me you feel sick.”

you hold it in for as long as you can, trying to play the act well and appear as though you’re just as afraid and shocked as him— before you can’t do it anymore, bursting into a fit of laughter as you grab onto your boyfriend’s arm while doubling over.

“i’m just kidding, i’m kidding!”

“oooh, real funny, y/n.” jaehyun responds, rolling his eyes despite the fond smile on his lips. “keep going like this and you’re gonna be on my naughty list.”

“oh?” you smirk, giggles somewhat dying down as you raise a playful brow to your boyfriend. “and what happens if i get on the naughty list?”

“want me to show you?” he challenges, the spark in his eyes mirroring your own, promising mischief.

you never really know how a day’s going to go when you’re with jaehyun, he’s always full of surprises. but one thing you are rather sure of is that this boy is going to make all your christmas wishes come true.

taglist. @zynz0 <3

note. again, plz don’t just like but reblog! thanks for reading <3 i might write another ‘version’ of this fic about the date jaehyun describes wanting to take reader on! all fluff! but i might do a different member, not sure. if you have a preferred member lmk.

[onlygarden]

[so good, light up the neighborhood] - park sunghoon

genre: smut

description: after moving into a new home, you develop a less-than-subtle admiration for your neighbor - a handsome, charming man who also happens to be forty years old. sunghoon is 40, reader is in their 20s, dilf sunghoon (he's not a father, just a dilf if you know what i mean), unprotected sex, biting, power play kinda, sunghoon is flirty, dom sunghoon, older sunghoon (whatever you say daddy)

a/n: this fic kinda beat my ass, but i'm super excited about it :D been brewing this idea for a little while heheh

the late afternoon sunlight brightened the expanse of your living room, dramatically bright rays resting upon your eyelashes and obstructing the view of the drama on your television. albeit, you were rewatching it, anyway; and only half watching at that, since your mind obliged you into pondering the gentleman who now lived next door to you. 

your recent move-in concluded only a week ago, the less-than-impressive dimensions of your new home still littered with empty boxes which sat in a neat pile beside your front door – your poor attempt at tidying the muddled mess of your unpacking process. 

you approach the clutter of empty boxes, thoughts of your new neighbor lapping your brain rampantly, their stubborn insistence rousing a sigh from your lips. images of his delicate, genuine smile as he introduced himself, his habit of using ‘sweetheart’ rather than your name, his firm ‘you don’t have to strain yourself, let me…” as you attempted to carry all your boxes into the house alone remained on a continuous loop, beyond any of your better judgment or hollow efforts to distract yourself. 

your knowledge of him doesn’t extend very far, similar to your brief list of interactions with him – the only information you’ve gathered thus far is his name, age, and the fact that he’s so inconceivably handsome your breath hitched in your throat when you first cast your eyes towards him. the shocking difference in age between the two of you didn’t deter your admiration at all – sure, he’s forty years old, and sure, that’s much older than you. in your mind, however, the fact that he was old enough to be your father only strengthened the enchanting spell your body and your wits were under. 

“hey, sweetheart,” his familiar, yet charming voice rings out, gently diverting your attention away from your unseemly contemplations. 

your legs halt, pausing your movements in your short trek to your recycling bin. you eagerly direct your gaze to his direction, and goodness, there he is; just the sight of his gorgeous face causes a smile to glide it’s way across your features, followed by a subtle blush. the sound of his car door closing reaches your ears in the same moment that his classic, sly grin adorns his face, fueling a flurry of warmth in your tummy. you were so overcome by your thoughts, that you hadn’t even noticed his car returning to his driveway… 

“oh! hey, sunghoon,” you utter all too evenly – the pressure of the thump, thump, thump in your chest, and the shameful nature of your thoughts was not betrayed by your demeanor in the faintest degree. 

oh, he’s coming over here, you think as he suddenly begins to approach you. his legs drag him closer to you until he’s standing directly before you, the width of his shoulders and his daunting stature causing you to feel caged in. you invite the feeling, however, shamelessly basking in shelter he can provide with his frame alone.

you fling the thought from your mind as his gruff, warm voice reaches you again, his proximity intensifying the metaphorical embrace your senses receive whenever the sound reaches them. with such a limited distance between the two of you, his voice was much softer, more intimate – you were certain you could feel the resonance his voice created in his chest across your skin.  

“getting rid of all those empty boxes, huh?” he questions, his sly smile still proud on his face, but resting in such an easy manner. the ease of his expression mirrors the ease of his demeanor, not a single fray of tension shedding from him. 

“oh, yea… yea, i am,” you respond, your gaze shifting to the boxes in your hand in a fleeting glance, before returning to his captivating eyes – his eyes were chasms, shimmering dark orbs absorbing every grain of your attention, unpermitted and unforeseen by you. though if you did garner any control of the situation, you wouldn’t try to resist, anyway. 

his own gaze descends, falling upon the boxes you held before being captured by another, lower view. the pleat of your black tennis skirt was snagged underneath the boxes in your grasp, revealing the shorts underneath – the shorts designed to prevent situations like yours from becoming any less fortunate. though in your case, flashing the man in front of you with the sight of your thong would only serve to further gratify him. 

he noted the sight of the not-so-generous fabric, paying particularly close regard to the way the shorts sink into your flesh, your thighs pillowing around the constricting material. you truly didn’t realize, did you? you were so blissfully oblivious to the mishap, but equally as oblivious to the subtle change in his relaxed gaze to a more appreciative one.

a muted huff drifts past his lips, and he allows his eyes another moment to delight in the glimpse of your flesh bared by such a favorable accident. shielding your skin from his own ravenous leering, he tugs the fabric down, freeing your skirt from the captivity of the box and effectively concealing the skin of your upper thighs. in the process, he allows his deft fingers to graze your skin, lingering only for a moment before his hand falls to his side. well, there goes the view, he thinks. 

the vague blush which already plagued your features only brightens as you come into collision with the realization. the way he momentarily allowed his fingers to skim across your skin surely did not offer your rattled, wickedly jumbled mind any support.

a soft gasp spills from your lips, your eyes stretching wide as you struggle to accept the fact that sunghoon – your neighbor, and the man occupying every crevice of your brain – just saw up your skirt, whether the skirt in question was made with shorts or not.

“oh god, sunghoon… i’m sorry, i –” he intrudes on your frantic apologies, shaking his head dismissively as the warmth of his husky voice travels to your ears again. 

“need some help, sweetheart?” he inquires plainly, though the tone of his voice seems to insinuate a path of events that are obscured from the realm of plain.

your heart stutters beneath your chest, a sense of almost pleasant alarm crawling over your body. the breath in your throat catches, much like usual while you’re conversing with your neighbor. 

“help… help with what?” you inquire in return, the sound of your voice a feeble murmur, the breathiness only further shrouding your words. 

his grin returns to his lips, stretched wide enough to allow his pointed teeth to slip, a memorable feature you came to realize during your first conversation with him. 

“with the rest of your boxes,” he starts, a teasing lilt traveling through his voice. “i could help you bring them out.”

your shoulders begin to relax, the tension subsiding, leaving a subtle sense of disappointment to wander – a gesture you hope his gaze didn’t catch. 

“oh, my boxes…” you utter, your head dropping slightly as a faint chuckle leaves your chest. of course he was talking about the boxes, how could you let yourself get so carried away… 

“yea, i could use some help,” you follow, your eager declaration accompanied by a sweet smile. 

as you oblige in a shameless degree of willingness, sunghoon removes the boxes from your grip, striding casually to your recycling bin. 

your gaze remains on his frame for another moment, roaming over the expanse of his shoulders again, admiring the manner in which his black tee clung to him before you manage to avert your eyes – the fear of being caught grips you cruelly. 

as you head towards the door to retrieve another set of boxes, sunghoon pushes the door open a bit wider from behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder, and allowing it to follow the course of your spine down to the small of your back. he ushers you inside with gentle grace, an equally gentle “right behind you, sweetheart…” passing through his lips. you’re endlessly grateful for his position behind you, since it shielded the apparent heat on your face from his eyes. 

gosh, what’s his problem. the dominance behind such a simple gesture almost made you forget that it was your house, and you were the one leading him inside. 

he permits his eyes to travel throughout your home, observing the manner in which you arranged all of your belongings. 

“very cozy in here, darling,” he compliments. “did you do all of this by yourself?” 

darling. that was new. goodness, he hardly even knows you, but he always manages to sneak an endearing title into conversation with you. you desperately cling to the conviction that it’s completely normal, he’s just being friendly, he probably speaks this way with every young girl… but the distant belief that he’s trying to communicate more than just that is beginning to outshine the former. 

you face him with a quiet smile. “oh, yea. i did. i’m not entirely finished, but i’m glad you think it’s cozy. as my neighbor, you know.” 

a soft chuckle escapes him. 

“as your neighbor, yea…” he starts, a charming lilt littering his gruff voice. “well, i hope that as your neighbor, i’ll be invited over more often.” 

a blend of slight shock and enthusiastic excitement mingles together in your expression. the slight increase of your heart rate causes your voice to sound a bit breathier than you intended, but he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, he seems almost delighted by the reactions he keeps pulling from you. 

“of course, you’re always welcome,” you respond naturally, hints of kind enthusiasm lacing into your words. you continue, hoping your eager yearning doesn’t come across him. 

“is that something you would want, sunghoon?”

his eyebrows lift faintly, his expression relaxing from his usual sly demeanor. 

“yea, it is, but…” he starts, taking a step closer to you. 

“i hope i’ll get to see more than just the living room, darling…”  

a gasp wanders from your lips beyond your will, prompting the familiar sly smile to return to sunghoon’s lips. before you can even begin to formulate a response, however, his voice rings out again. 

“i’ll grab the rest of these boxes, and then we can chat, if you don’t mind,” he expresses with a hint of intrigue, his hands steadily emerging from his pockets and his head tilting in gesture to the bundle of boxes beside your front door. 

your mind encourages you to nod, your body complying with the request to an almost instinctual degree. you move to assist him in collecting what remained of your moving clutter, following his figure through your front door.

“yea, i’ll… i’ll grab some too,” you manage out, surprised that your frenzied mind could feed you a coherent sentence. 

once the two of you complete the task – a task which should have been simple, but was filled with tension and embarrassingly hungry anticipation on your end – you encourage him to sit on the couch, to which he complies easily. as your take your place beside him, he slithers closer, close enough for his knee to make contact with yours. 

this contact, this proximity – you’d be completely comfortable with it under any other circumstances. if anyone else, or any other guy, for that matter, were in his place, you wouldn’t be flustered in the slightest. it’s him, though, and any bit of contact that he’s generous enough to grace you with turns every fiber of your body into putty. putty meant to be molded, maneuvered, and played with by him alone. 

“you seeing anyone, darling?” he utters breezily, almost too casually for your poor mushy brain. other parts of yourself were beginning to grow rather mushy, too… 

“no, i’m not seeing anyone,” you start, shaking your head gently, your hair swaying a bit with the gesture. 

“why?” you continue. 

his expression brightens marginally at your answer, though the brightness of his expression is still maintained by his sly, casual smile. 

“you see, doll,” he prods, his voice a low timbre, coating your senses in a fresh wave of heat. his hand comes to rest on your knee, rousing every nerve beneath your bare skin, igniting a pleasant burning sensation with his touch. 

doll? gosh, this man is non-stop.

“the first time i saw you in the neighborhood, i couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are,” he compliments, the words tumbling from his lips in the same charming manner in which they always do. 

he allows his hand to inch up your skin, fingers fluttering across your skin as he offers the flesh of your thigh a light squeeze. 

his eyes falter momentarily to watch your flesh cushion around his fingers, but he regains his firm, locked gaze. “you’re such a beautiful, beautiful, sweet girl… it really shocks me to hear that you’re single, but…” 

the distance between the two of you shrinks as he leans closer, breaking his stubborn gaze to speak against your ear. 

“would you let me be the one to change things?” he urges, his breath warming your ear, while sending shivers to travel down your spine simultaneously. 

what? you could hardly grasp the belief that this was reality, real life, he’s really asking you this question right now. you only spent a little over a week pining for your much older neighbor, yet here he was, in your home, making you aware of his reciprocated admiration without a hint of subtlety. 

“y-yes, sunghoon…” you mutter, somehow discovering a way to form words despite the wildly intense thrumming in your chest. 

his hand sweeps your hair from your shoulder, revealing your neck to him, and his middle finger traces along your jaw, tilting your head up a bit in the process. his fingers crawl to the back of your neck, still resting halfway against your jaw, dragging your face toward his.

“thought so, darling.”

his lips meld with yours, capturing your lips with his own, creating a rhythm which you matched enthusiastically. as though his hunger was beginning to struggle against the seams, his hand flies up skin of your thigh, squishing a greedy handful of your flesh.

his tongue slithers tauntingly along the seam of your lips, hardly waiting until you part your lips to shove his tongue inside of your mouth. he explores your mouth as though he was searching for something, seducing your tongue into an eager dance with his own.

garnering every bit of restraint from every tendril of his body, he parts from you, his nose gliding along your cheek. 

“how far do you wanna take this, doll?” he breathes out, his voice littered with arousal and restlessness. the rasp in his voice gives way to just how narrowly he’s managing to control his impulses. 

“as far as you wanna go, sunghoon…” you murmur feebly, inviting every unfettered bit of him to demolish you. 

a sound resembling a growl rumbles in his throat, and he lays back against the couch, pulling your body on top of his. as you begin to adjust, his large, veined hands glide along your back until he grips a generous handful of your rear. his tongue skates along the sharp line of your jaw, and he begins to treat the flesh of your ass, ardently squeezing and kneading underneath the pleat of your skirt. 

“you know how much i’ve been staring at this ass, darling?” he inquires rhetorically, one of his hands leaving your flesh to land a smack there, though he quickly returns to the kneading that he cannot seem to get enough of.

his hands reluctantly leave your ass, and he begins to lift your top over your head. he pats your bottom, instructing you to stand up, observing with awe as you pull your skirt and panties down without a single word from him. 

he rids himself hurriedly of his own clothes – tossing his shirt aside and abandoning his pants and boxers in tandem, not sparing a glance in their direction as they fall onto the floor. 

just as the final contents of his clothing reach the floor, you allow your unclasped bra to join them, before returning to your seat in sunghoon’s lap. 

sunghoon’s hands reach for your hips before you can fully settle yourself, and he watches in stunned admiration as a string of your arousal gushes from your drenched, lavish pussy, dripping onto his aching cock as though extending an invitation. 

“fuck,” he breathes out, his heavy eyes unable to tear away from the sight of you. his cock twitches powerfully from the subtle stimulation he received from your lavish arousal, and he removes a hand from your hip to stroke his cock, spreading the gift your pussy graced him with over his length.

“you get this wet just from being around me? god, you’re filthy, doll…” he tells you, thoroughly enjoying your shamelessness, and the plentiful flow of arousal you were offering him. 

the temperature in your face rises, but before you can truly react to his words, he begins to lower your body onto his cock, filling your leaking pussy with his daunting girth. a groan escapes him as you engulf him, flooding his cock with such a luscious, warm wetness that he can’t wrap his mind around. 

your feverish moan reaches his ears, and your hands grip onto his own, as though telling him ‘wait, let me get used to this…’ – sunghoon doesn’t allow you any amenities, though.

“goddamn you’re wet…” he announces, grunting at the snugness of your realm of warmth surrounding him. a sensation he had suffered deprivation from for so long, but now he’s finally indulging in it, finally sliding his cock into you. now that he’s captivated you, however, he doesn’t think he’ll ever want to miss out on the feeling of being encompassed by you.

all of your reasonable judgment was easily forsaken, and all you desired was to learn and memorize the feeling of his length inside of you.

“f-fuck, hoon!” you wail, as the rhythm of him fucking you onto his cock begins to overflow from your body, the squeeze of his hands against your hips as he guides you up and down only pleasuring you even further.

“mhm… there it is… let it out, my sweet girl,” he encourages hoarsely, any sound and syllable that falls from your lips a pleasant melody for his wicked ears. 

at the sound of your goading cries, sunghoon’s pace hastens, his hips bucking his cock further into you as he forces your hips down to meet every merciless passing of his length through your warm, glistening spring. he’s unfaltering in his movements, sending your body and his own to such astonishing heights of euphoric delight. 

as unimaginable as it seemed, sunghoon intensifies the sheer enchantment he was bestowing onto you as he leans forward, capturing your nipple with his mouth, suckling as his tongue glides over the nub in a gentle caress. 

your cries, moans, and whines only blend pitifully into unintelligible sobs, convoluted pleas of “oh god, oh fuck!” floating from your quivering lips, pouring an abundance of sinful satisfaction onto sunghoon’s body. good god, you’re just heaven to him.

“gonna cum now, sweet girl?” he inquires in a dark breath, detaching his lips from your nipple only to begin suckling the other one, his clenching hand on your hip allowing his thumb to begin circling your fluttering clit. 

your body can’t even conduct an action as simple as a nod, yet the way your body begins to tremble, and the way your helpless hands latch onto his shoulders in a form of nonverbal begging tells him all he needs to know. he exhales with a chuckle as your tears of devastating pleasure begin to fall onto his chest.

“you crying, doll? it’s just sex, i’ve got you…”

obliterating the sentiment of his sweet yet condescending words, his leg bends, allowing him to brace one of his feet against the couch cushion, and he brutalizes his pace of plunges into your pussy. his cock stimulates places inside of you far beyond the range of anything you could ever hope to even imagine.

you know you can’t hold out any longer as a wave of incomprehensible bliss coats your body, hazing your senses and your vision, your shuddering body absolutely staggered as the pleasure he provided showers you in a fountain of violent hysteria.

his hands tense around your hips, deft fingers constricting around your flesh as he compels your body into meeting flush against his own, luscious grinds and ruts into your flowing pussy suffocating him in a pit of pleasure, completely drowning every crevice of his body. though he’s enamored with this form of drowning, as long as it’s you submerging him. he floods you in return, spilling a stream of his cum inside of you, sharing his surging pleasure with you. 

he meets your eyes, locking his stare to yours as he cums. “mmm… yea, fuck, darling… look at me while i’m fucking you…” he mutters with gruff timbre, his mouth falling open, bordering on delirium. 

allowing the both of you a few moments to regain your breath and search for your composure, his veined hand coasts along your back, his breaths resounding heavily in his chest and lifting your delicate, fatigued body. 

“can’t believe i’ve been missing out on all that, sweetheart… i think i like you needy,” he casually informs you, scattering a few wispy kisses across you shoulder. 

he lifts your body off his cock, a soft grunt passing his lips as he leans up from the couch, cradling your weary frame in his arms, the mess of your combined clothing receiving neglect – save for the devious way he crouches down to slip your thong into the pocket of his discarded pants. 

“so, darling…” he begins, his body striding toward the direction of your staircase. “where’s your shower?”

you don’t even pretend to resist the urge to rest your head against his bare shoulder, you wouldn’t ever dare to resist any urge you felt towards him anymore. 

“last door on the left,” you relent, voice nearly too weak to carry to his ears. 

a soft chuckle vibrates in his chest, tickling your skin as he ascends the stairs toward the destination you directed him in. 

“so what about you, sunghoon?” you query, hushed voice still unable to conceal your curiosity. 

he places you onto the bathroom sink, allowing your legs to dangle, gripping the counter on either side or your thighs. he leans a touch closer, his stark features even more apparent, now. 

“hm? what about me, sweet girl?” he responds fondly, his expression twinkling with tender admiration.

your legs swing faintly, creating a bump, bump, bumping from your bare heels.

“i mean… have you dated anyone recently? or… are you seeing anyone now?” 

the fondness in his expression intensifies, and a tranquil smile wanders across his face. he couldn’t quite say that he wasn’t expecting the question, but his eyebrows lifted nonetheless – in an almost pleased manner.

“no, darling, i… i haven’t dated anyone in a while,” he reveals honestly, another chuckle following soon after in preparation of his next words. 

“...and no, i’m not seeing anyone now. don’t i strike you as a loyal man?” he teases gently, flashing you a charming smile, those familiar sharp canines revealing themselves again.

a giggle erupts from your lips, and you send him a playfully skeptical look. 

“don’t smile at me like that. aren’t you a little too old to be playing that ‘i’m cute’ card?” 

a husky chuckle emerges from his lips at your mischievous response, and his hand travels to your hip to grant a squeeze. 

“cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he observes, shortening the distance between your faces even further.

he pauses for a fleeting moment before continuing, a casual, relaxed smile returning to his features. 

“i’ve gotta say, darling… i really wanna spend a lot more time with you,” he adds, his fingers dancing along the smooth skin of your cheek. his doting gaze does little to conceal the thoughts running unabashedly through his mind. from the moment he saw you, it’s like he was met with a certain clarity he’d never realized before. he can’t quite find the words, but he knows he’s unwavering in his desire to continue drawing you closer to him. now that he’s gotten you this close, he can’t afford to lose or waste a single moment.

“now,” he announces, his voice interrupting the rampant thoughts in both of your minds. he lifts your body from your sitting position, allowing you to steady yourself on your feet, before whirling you around and bending your body over the counter.

“you don’t think we’re done here yet, do you, darling? you think i’ll give my sweet girl a break that easily?”

my sweet girl? the impending frenzy in your mind is thrown into delay, replaced by surging arousal as his hands run down the course of your back, his touch almost like a torch across your skin. 

he allows his eyes to immerse themselves in your prone form, before leaning down to sink his teeth in the flesh of your ass – the sharp edges of his canines nearly breaking your skin. 

as you gasp, and snap your head behind you to gaze at him, he runs his tongue over the mark he created, expressing his appreciation with a grin.

“mine, now.”

[shyoko]

☆When you call them by their name instead of their affectionate nickname. ☆

This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.) 

 Requests are: open

Before anything else, sorry for disappearing, but my PC died. But well, now I have a new one, and I can keep editing and writing.

Thanks for the support!!! i love u ❤❤❤

Heeseung☆!

You're lying on the couch, enjoying the calm, with Heeseung resting his head on your lap. His eyes are closed, but the way his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your leg tells you he's more awake than he seems. You smile at him, thinking about how adorable he looks, though you also suspect he's waiting for the right moment to do something mischievous.

You take the opportunity to check your phone. Unlocking the screen, you scroll through your notifications and pause on Heeseung’s contact. It’s just his name—no nickname, no emoji. You know he doesn’t like how formal that feels.

Deciding to mess with him, you hold back a laugh and keep staring at your phone, waiting for him to notice.

“What are you looking at?” he suddenly murmurs, not opening his eyes, but his tone betrays that he’s completely awake.

You chuckle, tilting your phone slightly to keep it out of his view.

“Nothing, nothing,” you reply, keeping it just out of his reach.

He opens one eye, a playful glint in his gaze. Before you can react, he’s already on top of you, trying to snatch your phone from your hands. His closeness sends a flutter through your stomach, but you keep up the game.

“Let go!” he laughs, voice full of mischief as he stretches toward the phone.

“No!” you giggle, dodging his attempts to grab it.

Heeseung sighs dramatically, pretending to be offended, but his mischievous grin gives him away.

“Why do you have me saved as just ‘Heeseung’? Not even an emoji. That’s so cold!” he protests, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout.

You can’t help but laugh at his theatrics. He looks so cute that it’s hard to keep a straight face.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” you tease, smiling as you watch him sulk.

“Yes, but it sounds so distant,” he whines, though his playful tone tells you he’s not actually upset. “Give me something cute, something affectionate. I don’t know, a heart or a nickname.”

You’re a little surprised by his request, but you decide to go along with it. Smirking, you think for a moment.

“Hm… How about ‘My Boy 🩷’?” you suggest playfully, tilting your phone so he can see.

Heeseung freezes for a second, as if processing what you just said. Then, his face lights up with a satisfied grin, and without warning, he snatches your phone.

In the blink of an eye, he changes the contact name. “Heeseung” now reads “My Boy 🩷” on the screen.

You stare at your phone in shock, amazed at how fast he did it. Heeseung flops down beside you, a triumphant smile on his face.

“Do you like it?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

You laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up. There’s no escaping now.

“I can’t believe you actually did that!” you protest between giggles, giving him a playful shove.

“Why not?” he smirks confidently, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “I am your boy, aren’t I?”

You keep smiling, feeling the warmth of his embrace surrounding you. In that moment, between laughter and soft touches, you realize there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“You’re such an idiot,” you whisper, hiding your face in his chest to keep him from seeing how flustered you are.

“I’m your idiot, remember?” he murmurs, gently running his fingers through your hair. “Always.”

You chuckle softly, hugging him tighter. There’s nothing better than this—the warmth of his arms, the sound of his voice, and his name now saved as “My Boy 🩷” on your phone.

jay☆!

You were sitting on the couch, your phone in your hands, when Jay let out an exaggerated sigh beside you. You tilted your head in curiosity, finding his brows furrowed and lips slightly pursed.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked, propping an elbow on the back of the couch to turn toward him.

Jay glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before looking away with a small huff.

“It’s just that… you never call me by a cute nickname,” he mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt. “It’s always ‘Jay’ this, ‘Jay’ that. I don’t know, it sounds too formal.”

A smile slipped out before you could stop it.

“Oh yeah? And what do you want me to call you?”

Jay was about to answer, but before he could, a voice interrupted from the doorway.

“Are you guys having a romantic moment or what?”

Ni-ki appeared with a mischievous grin, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Jay immediately rolled his eyes.

“Go away,” he said flatly, not even looking at him.

“Wow, so rude,” Ni-ki chuckled. “But seriously, what’s up with you now?”

Jay sighed tiredly, but when it became clear that Ni-ki wasn’t going anywhere, he finally gave in.

“I was just saying that they never call me by a cute nickname,” he explained with a pout.

“Oh, poor thing,” Ni-ki mocked, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “Do you want to be called ‘teddy bear’ or something?”

Laughter burst out of you before you could hold it in. Jay shot Ni-ki a glare, but the younger boy just held up his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving. You guys enjoy your little couple talk,” he said, turning away with a teasing smile.

Once he was gone, Jay sighed and rested his head on your shoulder, hiding his face against your neck.

“Ni-ki’s so annoying,” he muttered against your skin.

You chuckled softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“He is,” you agreed, stroking his hair gently. “But he has a point.”

Jay lifted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

You smiled before leaning closer to his ear.

“You’re my teddy bear,” you whispered playfully.

Jay blinked, his cheeks turning bright red in an instant.

“That’s even worse!” he exclaimed, covering his face.

You giggled fondly before taking his hands and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Okay, okay… but tell me, what do you want me to call you?”

Jay stared at you in silence for a moment, then sighed with a small smile.

“I don’t know, anything… just something sweet,” he murmured, tucking his face into your neck again.

Smiling, you placed a soft kiss on his hair.

“Alright, sweetheart.”

The quiet sigh Jay let out was barely noticeable, but the way he held onto you just a little tighter said it all.

“This is much better,” he whispered, a warm smile tugging at his lips.

Jake☆!

Jake was lying on the living room floor, legs stretched out and a soft smile on his face as he played with Layla. The puppy wagged her tail enthusiastically, pouncing over and over on the toy that Jake spun between his hands. The scene was so adorable that you almost felt bad interrupting it, but still, you called out to him from the couch, trying to get his attention.

"Jake! Can you come here for a second?"

Jake lifted his head immediately, as if unsure he'd heard correctly. His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he stayed completely still, still holding Layla’s toy. The surprise on his face was so obvious that you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

"Did you just call me Jake?" he asked, squinting slightly and letting out a soft chuckle—though there was something in his gaze that seemed genuinely displeased.

"Yeah, what about it?" you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Jake set the toy aside and slowly got up, crawling toward you with deliberate movements. He rested his arms on the edge of the couch, leaning in until your faces were only inches apart.

"I don’t like it when you call me that," he murmured with a slight pout. "It sounds too… ordinary."

"But it’s your name, Jake." You emphasized his name on purpose, enjoying the way his jaw clenched slightly.

He rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh and took your hands in his, as if that would help convince you.

"Yeah, but not from you," he insisted, lowering his voice. "‘Jake’ is what everyone calls me. Not you."

The way he looked at you, with his lips pressed together and his brows slightly furrowed, had an unmistakable hint of tenderness that made you smile involuntarily. His fingers tangled gently with yours, playing with them as if trying to distract himself.

"Ah, I see. So, my boy gets upset when I call him by his name," you teased, intertwining your fingers with his.

Jake scoffed, but the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

"I’m not upset… I just don’t like it," he muttered, pressing his lips into a thin line. "I want you to call me the way you always do."

You noticed how his hands tightened around yours, as if afraid you might do it again.

"Alright, my love," you whispered with a smile.

Jake closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring the way it sounded on your lips. Then, without warning, he nestled into your arms and rested his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

"That’s much better," he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with contentment.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his hair as your fingers ran gently down his back. Layla let out a quiet bark beside you, as if protesting the lack of attention, but Jake didn’t even budge.

"You know this is a little dramatic, right?" you murmured in amusement.

"I don’t care," he replied, snuggling closer. "Just let me stay like this for a while."

And by the way he held onto you, you knew there was no way you’d ever call him ‘Jake’ again.

Sunghoon☆!

You were leaning against one of the tables in the café, chatting casually with a friend. The conversation flowed lightheartedly between laughter, but every now and then, your eyes drifted toward Sunghoon, who sat a few meters away with his headphones in and his phone in hand.

When your gazes met, you smiled and raised a hand in greeting.

"Sunghoon, come here for a second!" you called, gesturing with your hand.

He lifted his head, hesitating at first, but eventually put his headphones in his pocket and walked toward you with slow steps. The usual soft smile on his face had vanished, and the way his lips were pressed together made you blink in confusion.

"What's wrong?" you asked when he reached your side.

Sunghoon shook his head, shrugging, but avoided your gaze. He merely clicked his tongue lightly, crossing his arms and glancing toward the window.

"Is something bothering you?" you insisted, frowning. "Are you upset that I was talking to him?"

"No," he answered quickly, rolling his eyes. "It's not that."

The dry tone of his voice and the way his fingers tapped against his arm gave him away. You sighed, saying goodbye to your friend before gently taking Sunghoon by the wrist and leading him to a more private corner.

"Hey, are you sure nothing's wrong?" you murmured, searching his eyes. "You've been acting strange since you came over."

Sunghoon puffed out his cheeks, avoiding your gaze.

"It's just… you called me 'Sunghoon,'" he finally admitted, a small pout forming on his lips. "Not even a 'baby' or anything. It sounded like you didn’t even know me."

Surprise made you blink a couple of times before a small laugh escaped you. Sunghoon scrunched his nose, clearly offended.

"Ah, so that's what it was," you smiled, tightening your grip on his wrist slightly. "I thought you didn’t like that kind of thing in public. The nicknames and all…"

He huffed, clicking his tongue in irritation.

"I just don’t like other guys thinking I'm not your boyfriend," he muttered, a soft blush rising to his cheeks. "I like it when you call me cute things, not just my name. It sounds too cold."

The sincerity in his tone and the way his gaze shifted anxiously, as if looking for an escape, made you smile fondly.

"Wow, I didn’t know you were this sensitive," you teased gently.

Sunghoon puffed out his cheeks again, turning his gaze away with a small scoff.

"I’m not sensitive…" he grumbled, though the way his fingers intertwined with yours completely contradicted him. "I just… like it when it sounds like I’m special."

With a soft smile, you stood on your tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. The blush on his face deepened instantly, and though he tried to keep his annoyed expression, his lips began to curve slightly.

"Alright then, ‘baby,’" you whispered sweetly.

Sunghoon let out a quiet sigh, and though he crossed his arms as if still upset, he didn’t move away. On the contrary, he leaned his forehead a little closer to yours, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"Much better," he murmured, and though his voice was soft and serious, you could feel his smile against your skin—warm and small.

Sunoo☆!

The challenge had started as a simple joke—just to see how Sunoo would react if you called him by his name instead of the affectionate nicknames he loved so much. The guys—Jay, Niki, and Sunghoon—could barely contain their laughter when they saw you walk into the room with that fake serious expression. They hid behind the slightly open door, trying not to make a sound while you prepared to set the plan in motion.

Sunoo was sitting on the mattress, legs crossed, phone in hand. The soft afternoon light streamed through the window, casting warm highlights in his hair. His fingers moved quickly across the screen, and his calm expression made you hesitate for a second before clearing your throat.

"Sunoo! Come here for a second!" you called, trying to sound natural.

At the sound of his name, Sunoo immediately lifted his head. His expression shifted from surprise to annoyance in the blink of an eye, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at you as if you had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His jaw tensed slightly, and his lips pressed together, making it clear that he was not in the mood for jokes.

"What did you just say?" he asked, setting his phone aside and getting up with quick steps. His tone was colder than usual, and the way he held your gaze without blinking made it impossible to take the situation lightly.

"I called you, what’s the problem?" you defended yourself, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

"Don’t call me that!" he protested immediately, frowning. "It sounds horrible. Like I’m just any other person."

The firmness in his voice and the way he crossed his arms in front of you, chin raised and eyes shining with a mix of irritation and defiance, made it clear that the challenge was working. Sometimes, the confidence in Sunoo’s gaze managed to disarm you faster than you were willing to admit.

"But it’s your name, Sunoo," you insisted with a teasing smile, provoking him on purpose.

At the sound of his name again, Sunoo let out an irritated huff, rolling his eyes and pressing his lips together in frustration.

"No more ‘Sunoo!’" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Call me ‘baby’ or ‘my love.’ That sounds much nicer. That’s what I want to hear."

It was right then that a small, choked noise broke the silence. Someone—clearly Niki—let out a stifled giggle, and the faint sound made Sunoo turn sharply toward the door. His eyes narrowed, and before the guys could react, he marched toward it with quick, firm steps.

"Ah! So this was a joke, huh?" he muttered, swinging the door open to find all three of them barely holding back laughter. "Very funny. Really."

Jay and Sunghoon raised their hands in surrender, but Niki burst into laughter, leaning on Jay’s shoulder as he doubled over. Sunoo clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes in irritation before slamming the door shut with a sharp huff.

"You guys are so annoying," he mumbled, pressing his lips together as he rested his head against the door. His expression remained serious, and the faint redness on his cheeks only made his frustration more obvious.

You sighed with a guilty smile, stepping closer to him softly. Before he could complain again, you took his wrist and led him back to the mattress, gently guiding him to sit down as you settled beside him, wrapping your arms around him.

"I’m sorry, baby," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his flushed cheek. "You know it was just a joke. Don’t be mad."

Sunoo huffed, turning his head away from you. His lips remained pressed in a pout, and the way he kept his arms crossed against his chest made it clear that his annoyance hadn’t faded yet.

"You’re all so cruel," he mumbled, his tone dry and sharp. "It’s not funny."

You smiled against his skin, leaving a slow trail of kisses from his cheek down to the hollow of his neck. You felt his shoulders gradually relax, though his lips remained tight as he tried not to give in too easily.

"Will you forgive me?" you whispered, placing one last kiss near his ear. "You know I just wanted to tease you a little."

Sunoo let out a quiet sigh, resting his forehead against your shoulder, though he refused to look at you.

"Maybe…" he murmured, his voice softer but still sulky. "But you owe me cuddles. Lots of them."

And even though his face remained serious and his gaze fixed on the fabric of your shirt, the way he curled up against you, eyes fluttering shut and hands gripping your clothes, made it clear that his anger wouldn’t last much longer.

Jungwon☆!

The argument had ended a few minutes ago, but the silence between the two of you felt heavy and cold. Jungwon stood in the middle of the room, biting his lip nervously, while you took a few steps toward the window, trying to calm yourself. The way you had said his name, without any of the usual affectionate nicknames, hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

"Hey... can we talk, please?" he asked in a low, uncertain voice. But you didn’t respond, keeping your gaze fixed outside, even though you weren’t really looking at anything.

"Are you really going to keep calling me that?" Jungwon insisted, taking a step closer, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of regret and sadness. The way he said your name sounded almost like a plea, so soft that the knot in your throat tightened even more.

"It’s your name, isn’t it?" you replied, trying to sound firm, though your voice wavered slightly.

Jungwon pressed his lips together, his shoulders tensing. He didn’t like hearing that, especially in that distant tone. He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze for a moment, as if debating with himself whether or not to take the next step. But the thought of you continuing to call him that was enough to make him forget his pride.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling with sincerity. He stepped closer, carefully, as if afraid you would pull away.

"I really am, love. I didn’t… I didn’t want it to end like this. Please, don’t call me that."

The way his voice broke at the end made something inside you crack as well. Before you could respond, Jungwon gently took your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. His grip was warm, but he was shaking slightly.

"I know I messed up. But please, don’t talk to me like I’m a stranger," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes with an almost broken sigh.

"Call me like you used to. Just tell me you forgive me, okay?"

The pain and regret in his eyes were so evident that you couldn’t keep up the act for much longer. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment as his fingers softly traced yours, as if afraid you’d pull away.

"Jungwon..." you started, and you felt him tense at the mention of his name again. But before he could say anything, you continued:

"It’s okay, my love. I’m not angry, just… it hurt, you know?" you admitted softly, cupping his cheek.

He let out a deep sigh of relief, so profound it was as if he had been holding his breath the entire time. He hugged you without hesitation, burying his face in your neck as he murmured apologies over and over again, clinging to you as if afraid you would disappear.

"Thank you… thank you for forgiving me, love," he whispered, and this time his voice was broken, but filled with relief and warmth.

"I love you."

And in his arms, the weight in your chest slowly began to fade away.

Ni-ki☆!

You were in the kitchen, stirring the food in the pan, when you raised your voice to call Ni-ki from the living room.

"Jake, come here for a second!"

Silence fell immediately. The moment the words left your mouth, you knew you had messed up.

From the couch, Ni-ki lifted his head with a look of disbelief. He didn’t say anything at first, but the way he narrowed his eyes made it clear that he had heard you perfectly.

He stood up and walked toward the kitchen with slow steps, crossing his arms.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his tone dripping with irritation.

You froze for a moment, feeling the tension in the air.

"I'm sorry, Ni-ki… I meant—"

"Oh, so not only do you not call me by a cute nickname, but you say someone else’s name instead?" he interrupted, scoffing in annoyance. "And Jake’s, of all people. How embarrassing."

He placed a hand over his chest dramatically, but the frown on his face showed that he was genuinely bothered.

"I'm really sorry, it wasn’t on purpose…" you murmured, taking a step toward him.

Ni-ki averted his gaze with a small huff, but the way his jaw relaxed let you know he was already getting over it.

"Just… don’t call me Jake again," he said, still keeping his arms crossed.

You smiled tenderly before gently touching his arm.

"I promise, love. I won’t do it again."

The nickname worked instantly. Ni-ki looked at you in silence for a moment, and then, without warning, leaned in and wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was firm, almost possessive.

"You’re mine, you know that?" he murmured against your lips with a mischievous smile.

Warmth bloomed in your chest, and you placed a soft kiss on his lips, lingering just enough to make the tension disappear completely.

Just then, a low chuckle came from the doorway.

"Dude, that’s disgusting," Jay said, leaning against the frame with a raised eyebrow. "So now you’re one of those ‘you’re mine’ guys? That’s new."

Ni-ki turned his head, frowning.

"What are you talking about?"

"I just remember when you used to laugh at me for being ‘cheesy’ with my girlfriend," Jay replied, making air quotes. "And look at you now—‘mine’ this, kisses everywhere."

Ni-ki opened his mouth to argue, but no comeback came to mind. His ears instantly turned red.

"Screw you, Jay."

"Gladly, but I’m enjoying the show too much." Jay smirked smugly before turning away and disappearing down the hallway.

Jay smirked smugly before turning away and disappearing down the hallway. Ni-ki let out a frustrated sigh and rested his forehead on your shoulder, mumbling something under his breath.

"What was that?" you asked, laughing.

"I hate him," he muttered against your neck, clinging even tighter to you.

"And here I thought you were tough, Ni-ki."

He lifted his head with a frown, but the way he held onto your waist even more tightly gave him away—deep down, he didn’t mind at all.

"Hii! Now that I'm back, I'd love to know, do you have any ideas or suggestions for what you'd like to see next? I'm open to recommendations, so feel free to comment. I'm reading you!" ❤❤❤

[pineconepie]

Hello! i was wondering if you could do serial killer/slasher yandere parent? Dont know if thats too dark tho 😅

Here it is!! I've gotten a few requests like this, and since a lot of people also want to see more willing readers, I added a little of that to the mix!

TW: Implied/attempted murder, loss of child, implied assault/creeps toward reader (not the yandad), parental yandere, light forced infantilization, violence, reader implied to kind of has issues of their own

You know it wasn't a good idea to walk home alone, especially in this hour of the night, and double-especially when there had already been six murders around the same general area you live in, all clearly by the same person.

But, your phone had died, you couldn't get an Uber, and there wasn't really anybody you could call to come pick you up, even if your phone was working properly.

So, you decide that walking home will have to work tonight.

That probably wasn't the best choice you've ever made.

When you're halfway to your house, you hear a slight rustling around behind you. You spin around, hoping to catch whatever (or whoever) was following you in the act of making the sound. There's nothing there.

Shaking your head, you continue to walk down the street, subconsciously walking faster.

It must be that murder case that's been hanging over everyone's heads lately that's getting you nervous like this, right?

Wrong.

When you start speed-walking, the same noise as before starts up again, but it sounds closer than last time. You don't have much time before someone tries tackling you.

In the corner of your eye, you see a gun pulled out from under their trench coat. Quickly reaching out for the murderer's arm, you grab it, and try to stop them from aiming at you.

You shove them away and run in the only direction you can without getting tackled; the alleyway.

Seeing there's no time to hide, and all the hiding spots are obvious anyway, you succumb to a panic attack and crouch down onto the ground with your head in your knees.

You take out what money you have and chuck it in his direction. "Please, just take my money and leave me alone! That's all I have! If you want my phone too, just take it!"

The man almost cackles. "I don't need any money," he states matter-of-factly. You can hear the grin in his voice. He walks slowly towards you as if to intimidate you more, though it does little to affect your mindset more than it already has. He's still holding the gun. "Don't take it personally. It's nothing against you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

At this point, you've fully come to terms with your demise, which is clear to the other party.

You look up at him with puffy eyes from sobbing, and tears and snot running down your face. Most of his face is covered, but you can see his eyes.

And much to your surprise, you see them widen.

A few seconds go by, and now you're afraid to break eye contact. You watch as the man before you put his gun back in its holster inside of his trench coat and curse under his breath while looking away.

He clears his throat after a few more dramatic seconds go by. "Go home, kid." You stand up on shaky legs. "Grab your stuff first, then get outta here. I won't chase ya."

Hesitant, you do so anyway, because who would refuse such an offer?

Grabbing your money, you stuff it in your pockets and wipe your face. As soon as you're ready to go, you dash past the stranger, not wanting to spend another minute around the killer.

...

After that incident, you feel as if you're being watched.

Well, obviously you'd think so; you were just almost murdered.

But, when you're going to anywhere, you can feel eyes staring at you wherever you go.

A car with tinted windows follows each time. It isn't unique by any means, just a black Mitsubishi.

But still, it's there. Every time you leave your house, the same vehicle parks near you until you return to your home. Sometimes you try going on wild goose chases to catch the bastard following you off guard, but when you make your way back, it'll be parked somewhere near your driveway.

For almost two months this becomes a cycle, and it especially starts becoming concerning whenever you get sick, or have a bad day, there's always a basket of goodies on your porch steps the next day.

You don't eat them, and instead just throw them away, but it's clear none of them have been tampered with. The most disturbing part about it all is they have your favorites—your favorite animals now into plushies, your favorite snacks and candies, and other such things.

Is this his way of just messing with you until he inevitably comes to finish the job?

One night, when you're walking home from work, you notice the same vehicle tailing you from your workplace to your house. You walk with speed and reach your porch step, where the driver can see you enter your house, and they pull out, as if reassured you're safe.

Maybe they're trying to make sure you aren't hurt in any way?

Another night, one late, you stay out longer than you should, and much like any other time, you're followed once again.

Unlike normal though, there are three men whistling at you, taunting you. You ignore them as best as you can, walking faster and keeping your head down in hopes you won't seem interesting. Your wishes are not fulfilled.

Your arm is tugged harshly backward, pulling you onto the sidewalk with brute force.

The three guys look at you hungrily. "Where are you going this late at night?" the obvious leader speaks up, a greasy, slimy grin on his face, only worsening when he sees how fearful you've become.

"I...I'm going home."

One of them tries grabbing you, and against your better judgment, you take off in an attempt to escape, though you aren't fast enough to avoid your jacket being grabbed.

In your panic, you somehow end up wriggling yourself away and onto the ground. You try to get up, but one of them holds their foot on your back, pushing you back onto the asphalt.

But, oh-so-conveniently, you can hear a vehicle door open and slam shut, and then the pounding of boots against concrete.

The foot on your back lets up, because the guy goes tumbling backwards onto his back.

Now free, you sit yourself up quickly, rubbing the back of your head, which had hit the sidewalk. You blink the blurriness away, to see the man—the same one who nearly killed you and has been following you—hovering over the main creep.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?!" said creep yells. He tries standing up, but the killer stomps on his ankle.

A crunch resounds through the air, accompanied by a sharp scream. The other two guys stand frozen, watching in horror.

"Get your little buddy and get outta here," he warns the other two, finally backing away. He has a gun pointed at them threateningly, as to tell them not to try anything else.

They quickly help their leader up and hobble away in fear.

You want to yell at this man, to demand answers or run, but you can't. "Thank you, sir..." you whisper.

Now you can get a good look at him. He looks to be somewhere in his forties, maybe even fifties, and has graying brown hair, along with gray eyes.

There's a scar along his cheekbone that adds a rugged charm to him. He smells like expensive cologne and coffee beans. If he didn't try killing you not too long ago, you might've really put your trust into him, he seems like just a grumpy dad.

"Are you alright?" His voice sounds oddly soft, as if genuinely concerned for your health. He reaches toward you, and you close your eyes, readying yourself to be hurt, but he only examines a bruise forming on your forehead. "Thought you learnt your lesson last time about stayin' out late at night."

"I don't think it'd matter either way. You know where I live, I've seen your car," you mutter. You don't look him in the eyes, hoping to avoid seeing any possible rage held within them. He doesn't say anything after that, so you continue. "Why are you doing this?"

A rough hand grabs yours, lifting you to your feet. "Do what? Save ya from gettin' jumped?"

"No! That's part of it, sure, but the gifts, and protecting me, and—and...you were just gonna kill me all those months ago!"

He sighs. "Yeah, 'were'. Not 'are'. I decided I ain't gonna anymore."

"But why?" you repeat, glaring daggers at the older man.

"I usually go after bad people. I mistook you for someone else, and then when you looked up at me like you did," he says while shifting his stance to a more firm position, "'all scared and hopeless and pathetic and—" he pauses suddenly, shaking his head to recollect himself. "Look, I saw my kid in you."

"You have a kid?"

"Had. Had a kid."

You almost want to apologize for the loss of his kid, when you remember the fact he's literally a serial killer. "And that's why you decided to stalk me for the past two months and give me baskets full of stuff?"

"We both know for a fact you hardly take care of yourself well enough. You're clumsy as shit, always irresponsible, you eat terribly..."

"I'm not being scolded how I live my life by a serial killer!" you interject. "Who even are you, anyway?"

"Dante," he answers.

"And I figure you already know everything about me?" It's less of a question and more of a statement at this point.

He chuckles. "If I didn't, would you still introduce yourself to me?" When he gets no answer from you, he smiles lopsidedly. "Get in the car, I'll drive ya home."

You narrow your eyes at him. "So you can kidnap me, or something?"

Dante puts a hand on your shoulder, his expression becoming cold again. "If I wanted to do that, I could have already done it plenty of times before, kiddo. I'm a lot of things; a liar ain't one of them."

"Fine, okay. I'll let you drive me home." You roll your eyes when you hear him laugh victoriously under his breath and follow him into his car. "How do you have the time all day to stalk me like this?" you ask aloud, climbing into the passenger's seat. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"You call it stalking, I call it watchin' over you like a father should his child. So far, we've seen just how helpful it is having me keep an eye on you," Dante replies. He pauses. "And I'm retired, but I used to be a private investigator."

"Oh joy. My own personal PI." You buckle your seat belt. You're still in disbelief. Someone actually gives enough of a damn about your safety, and it's your local neighborhood serial killer? "You said you only kill bad people." He hums in confirmation. "Does that mean 'petty thief' bad? Or, like, actual bad people?"

"The latter, kid. Not 'cause it makes me feel like a good person, just makes me feel like less of a bad person."

"So you can admit you aren't a good person?" you quip sarcastically, arms folded.

"Course not. But I don't think there really are any inherently good people in the world," he says.

"What about me, then? Why protect me if you think there's nobody who's actually 'good'?"

Dante glances at you. "I don't expect you to be a saint. In my eyes, you're amazing, perfect even. And sure, you got flaws—a lot of 'em—but so does your old man."

You cringe at the statement. "You mentioned me reminding you of your kid. What happened?" you pry further. "All I know is they died, right?" You rub the bruise on your forehead.

"They were out with some friends one night. And a few hours later I'm gettin' phone calls about how my baby's in critical condition. I get there, but there wasn't anything I could've done to save 'em. All I could do was sit beside them 'til..." He trails off. "They died holding my hand. But," he adds, looking at you sternly, "that shit ain't happenin' to you. That's why I'm keeping you safe."

After he stops at a red light, you stare up at him, deep in thought. "Is that why you kill...?"

"Because someone killed my kid?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Dante nods his head after a moment of hesitation. "It started with that, yeah. I killed the bastards that put them in that hospital bed. But that wasn't enough. I guess with monsters like that, I get a little trigger-happy."

It's quiet for a while.

"...how do you know I won't come forward about this information?" you question once your home is in sight. "Or try leaving, for that matter?"

Dante laughs. "You wouldn't get far without me knowing."

That shuts you up quick. Your house pulls up soon afterwards.

"Well, uh, thanks for driving me home," you mumble, opening the car door.

"No problem. Oh, wait—" he takes your wrist gently to keep you from getting out yet. He digs in the compartment below your armrest. Eventually he finds a pen and pad. He writes something down, ripping it off and handing it to you. "—call me whenever you need it. Even if ya just need help studying, or whatever." Dante shrugs nonchalantly.

"Or I'll just knock on the window of the car outside my place?" You weakly smile. Despite the oddity of the situation, this whole scenario is strangely hilarious.

At least, it feels that way because you might've hit your head a little too hard.

...

Those people who were harassing you went missing. You know for a fact it was Dante, and while you don't wish for their deaths, it still leaves a sour taste in your mouth when you see them on the news, with their parents crying about how sweet and kind they were.

You don't even know how to feel about Dante anymore. Maybe he is a good person, who really is doing the world a favor, but it's just not worth the risk to associate with him.

Except he isn't going to leave you alone.

Still though, you decide that ignoring him until he just leaves you alone.

Which proves difficult because sometimes he comes around and knocks on your door every so often, to drop off food, and just check in on you and how you're doing.

Some days you wonder what might happen if you answer, or send a text. He did give you his phone number after all.

You fight the curious urge, until one day, when tiredly trudging home after a particularly awful day.

For some reason, you look around the streets for a black car following you, but find nothing of the sort.

You decide to go against your better judgment and decide to call Dante. You don't know why you're doing this, every instinct in your body is telling you to not do it.

The phone rings a few times, until an annoyed voice picks up. "What? I'm busy," he snaps.

"Oh, uh, sorry," you stutter. "I shouldn't have called, that was stupid of me—"

"Wait, no, I didn't—" Silence hangs in the air. "Sorry," Dante says softer this time. "Didn't know it was you at first. Is everything alright?"

Your fingers tap against the wood of the table nervously, trying to make up some sort of excuse to cover for the real reason you're calling him.

"Nothing, just... didn't have a good day." You feel so pathetic right now, too caught up in your own emotions to hear the muffled cries in the background on Dante's side of the call. "But that doesn't concern you, does it? Why am I saying this?"

"It's alright, kiddie. Whatever happened to make you upset is important to me." Dante is definitely smiling right now. "Well, listen. I was busy right now, but it can wait, so how's about I swing by wherever you are and you and I can spend some time together? Get somethin' to eat, maybe? Your choice."

You find it hard to decline him. "...okay. I'm not home right now though. Can I just call an Uber and meet you somewhere?" you suggest.

He snorts. "My driving so bad that you'd rather waste money than spend thirty minutes in the same vehicle as me?"

"No, it's not that. I just feel like I'll be intruding since you're busy, or something."

"Don't be silly. Just tell me where you are and I'll be there soon. Alright? Don't get into any suspicious vans or anything like that while I'm not there." He ends the call with that.

The next ten minutes or so you stand around awkwardly, watching as pedestrians pass by. Eventually though, Dante arrives, driving up beside you. He gestures for you to open the passenger door, which you oblige.

You climb inside, buckle your seatbelt, and turn toward Dante. "So...where are we going?"

He stares back at you for a brief second. "Depends. Where would you like to go?"

After some hesitation, you give your favorite restaurant, which he nods in acknowledgement to and begins to drive.

"Why was your day bad?" he asks. "Did something happen? Someone hurt you?" At the red light, he turns to give you a quick glance-over, searching for any bruises or cuts, most likely. You're not injured, though the concerned look on his face stays.

"No, I just haven't slept much lately," you mutter.

"Have you eaten today?" You look away from Dante as an answer, making him curse under his breath. "The biggest hazard to you is yourself, it seems." He shakes his head disapprovingly. "I'm glad you finally called me, by the way. Why'd you decide to do it now?"

You hesitate. "I was feeling lonely, I guess."

"Really? Is that all?" The light flicks to green again, and Dante continues to drive.

"...I didn't see you stalking me today. Normally I see your car following me everywhere."

His breath hitches. "And...that worried you?" Dante looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

You don't reply.

Soon the conversation dies out, and neither of you bother to start another one up.

He focuses on driving, while you distract yourself with counting the amount of trees along the sidewalk on the way to the destination.

When you two pull up in the parking lot, you expect there to be tension, but surprisingly enough, the silence between you two feels comfortable, safe almost. It's a nice change from the usual uneasiness.

Dante gets out first, and you follow. The bell of the restaurant dings when you both enter.

"How many?" the hostess asks politely.

"Two. Thank you," Dante says with a charming smile. To you, it's an obvious fake persona, but she buys it hook, line, and sinker. You roll your eyes discreetly as she leads you two to the booth. You sit on opposite ends, taking your menus from her before she heads off to take care of other customers.

You think about it, then settle for the cheapest thing on the menu, trying to avoid taking advantage of Dante's kindness.

He notices anyway. "I know I don't dress fancy, or anything, but I've got the cash, kiddo. If you want to order the whole menu, you could, and I'd still be able to afford it tenfold. Nothin' is too expensive for you."

"I..." Your face burns out of embarrassment. You flip through the menu once more. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am." Dante scans through his own menu, although half-heartedly, considering his focus is still mostly on you.

Once your orders are made, you both try making small-talk, which proves ineffective. Then your orders arrive, and that too, becomes awkward when he insists on helping you cut up your meal into smaller pieces.

You make a show out of being mad, though truthfully it isn't bothersome as you try letting on it is.

After dinner (which he pays for completely) he looks like he's contemplating on something in the car. "Would you like to come to my place, kiddo?"

"Like, your house?" you clarify.

Dante nods. "It's only fair. I know where you live, I figure it'd be polite showing you the same courtesy."

"Sure, but it depends if I'll leave alive," you joke, but part of you is still concerned about that.

"With the way you take care of yourself, I think staying with me might actually help increase your lifespan a little bit."

A few moments pass by, the two of you basking in the company of one another. It's...nice.

The drive to Dante's home is around thirty minutes long, and barely in the city, surprisingly enough. His house isn't anything super impressive, but it doesn't look bad either.

A very average, middle-class home. It's comforting to see Dante likes simple things, makes it easier to think of him as a normal person than the murderer you know he is.

He steps outside of the car and opens your door for you. You give him a questioning glance, but decide to ignore it for now, unbuckling and heading over to the porch with Dante trailing behind you.

"This is it," he states, pulling his keys out to unlock the door, beckoning you to go in before him.

The interior of his home isn't anything special either, which you enjoy seeing. It makes Dante seem more human. On top of that, it feels safe here, even if this is the last place it should feel this way. It does have a slightly annoying (and worrying) scent of bleach permeating throughout the house.

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Can I ask something? It might be a little weird or triggering, so..."

"You can ask me anything. Doesn't bother me," Dante says.

"Okay... are you so interested in me because I simply look like or act like your kid? I'm worried you expect me to act like them or something similar..."

Dante sighs heavily, sitting down on his couch, and motioning for you to join him. Hesitantly, you do so, staying silent while you wait for him to gather his thoughts.

"I know you're not them. Sure, you remind me a bit of them, but you're your own person, too. It's fine if you don't want to pretend you're anyone but yourself, y'know? That ain't what I'm looking for, and forcing someone to do that wouldn't make anyone happy." He mulls over his words for a moment. "I guess I just want to be a dad again. I felt useless after my kid died, so you gave me that opportunity again."

You look at the ground awkwardly. "Why couldn't you just adopt a kid?"

"A lot of money," Dante answers. "Not to mention not working anymore and not being married anymore makes adoption agencies wary. Plus, you looked like you needed protecting, so I wanted to do so. Now, my turn. Why'd you invite me out? Wanted to spend some time with your old man?" Dante laughs lightly, but his eyes show clear hopefulness.

"If you insist on acting like my father," you pause, taking in a breath, "then yes. I suppose that means I wanted to spend time with you. Is that okay?"

Dante looks almost ready to cry. His hands twitch at his sides. "'course it is," he mutters softly, barely containing himself from getting overly emotional.

You scoot closer to Dante, hesitating for only a few moments before wrapping your arms around him. "Thank you for inviting me into your home."

He reciprocates quickly, holding onto you like a lifeline, face buried in your hair. "I missed this so much..." His voice is choked-up as he holds you tighter to him. "My baby," Dante whispers.

You don't know why you're letting this happen, but you don't want to dwell on that. His embrace is more comforting than it should be, especially considering what he is. But if he wants to play pretend, to imagine he has a child again, you may as well let him.

Even if that means ignoring the faint noises from the basement, and pretending it's just someone next-door.

"I love you so much," he mutters. He almost sounds hysterical, even if his tone is quiet, almost a whisper. "Never leave me. I can't take that, kid. I can't."

You pretend to be asleep, just so you won't have to answer that. He sighs and only holds you tighter.

[happy74827]

Bittersweet Moments

[Peter Maximoff x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend (if you’d even call him that), is an annoying piece of work 99% of the time. But that 1%? That 1% is pretty special.

WC: 1513

Category: Fluff, Irritated!Reader, Mentions of Migraines

My first Evan Peters fic? Lets go.

『••✎••』

Being friends with that white-haired speedster meant you never had a moment of quiet. The guy was just so fast that you never had a second to blink without him pulling a prank on you, which is why you were constantly on edge around him. You could never trust him.

But that didn't mean that he didn't have his moments.

You were on the floor, eyes shut, attempting to fade the raging migraine out. You made your room into a dark cave and had been there all day, and yet, the pain in your head only grew.

By the time you heard your door creak open, you already felt the presence and the air in the room shift. It was almost like a ghost was floating through the doorway.

"No." The voice was quiet, and the sound was barely audible.

The soft footsteps stopped, and you opened one eye, seeing the blurred white figure. Your vision was blurry, and everything was doubled, but you could make out the face.

"You locked me out." The tone wasn't accusatory or playful. It was a soft, concerned tone that made your chest squeeze.

You rolled your head back, trying to look up at him.

"Sorry," you croaked. "But I’m also not sorry. I needed the silence."

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively. He crouched down his hand landing on your arm. His skin was cold against yours. "I know you secretly look forward to our little hangouts."

"No, I don't," you grumbled. "And I especially don't right now."

"Can’t even handle my presence without getting whiplash? Man, I must be really awesome."

You could faintly make out his smug smirk, and it made you snort, only worsening your headache.

"Just..." You waved your hand at him. "Get out. Leave."

He, in fact, did not leave. Instead, he stood up and went over to your bed.

You watched him in confusion as he took off his shoes, and then, with a quick flash of light, he was beside you once again, a blanket suddenly wrapped around him.

"Wh-" You were cut off as the blanket was draped around you, and you found yourself pulled up from the ground.

Peter's arm slipped around your shoulders, and he led you over to the bed. He pulled back the covers, and you climbed in, still unsure of what was going on.

Once you were in bed, he pulled the covers back up, and before you could say anything, his headset was ripped from your dresser. He placed them over his ears and lay down beside you.

He looked at you and nodded his head, giving you a thumbs-up.

You just stared at him, completely confused, but his gaze was unwavering. You let out a sigh, deciding to just roll with it. You were too tired to deal with Peter's bullshit anyway.

You rested your head on the pillow and shut your eyes.

A few moments later, a tune started playing, the music filling your ears. Not the loud, classic rock he usually blasted, but a soothing acoustic.

"You’re a fan of the Beatles?" You asked, surprised. You fluttered your eyes only to see Peter's face correctly. He looked like he was in deep thought. And with the soothing music from his Walkman (that he obviously lent to you) and the quiet, you couldn't help but feel a small tug on your heart.

He shrugged. "It just felt like the right song for the mood."

"Meaning… me dying?"

"Oh, stop being dramatic," he rolled his eyes. "Your little brain is just confused from having a devilishly handsome man lay in bed with you."

"You do realize I’ve had this for days now, right?"

"Alright, so, a devilishly handsome man around you. Is that better?"

"I can’t believe I let you in here," you grumbled, closing your eyes once more.

"Don't lie," he said, a little louder than usual since the music was loud in your ears. "You know you like my company—that and my box of sweets."

What box of—

Your eyes opened, and you looked up, seeing him holding a box of chocolate-covered almonds. Your heart did a flip.

"Is this... " You reached for the box, and he handed it to you.

"They're the good stuff. None of that cheap candy crap."

"Wow, you eat something other than Twinkies? I'm impressed," you teased, taking a piece and popping it into your mouth.

"Hey, don't hate the Twinkies. You ever try them with ice cream? It's great. It's like cake, but it's not, ya know? They're just so squishy, but the flavor is there."

"Uh, ew?"

"What, are you some fancy girl? Too high class for my delicious desserts?"

"Yeah, that's exactly it," you laughed, shaking your head. You rested your head on the pillow again.

"Whatever," he chuckled. "Eat your expensive ass almonds. I had to pay actual money for those, and I'm pretty sure Hank's going to notice they're gone."

That made you sit up despite the pounding in your head. "You stole them?! Oh my god, what's wrong with you?!"

"What?" he looked at you innocently. So I stole a box of chocolates. Big deal. The guy's rich. He never notices when I swipe his food. He'll just assume he forgot to put them away or something."

"Ugh, you are such an ass."

"You say ass; I say awesome."

"No," you said, putting another almond into your mouth. "Ass."

"Alright, fine. But, hey, look, who’s still eating the stolen chocolates?"

"Yeah, well," you smirked, taking another one. " Technically, I didn’t steal it. You did. So I can have a clear conscience."

"Ah, I see," he grinned. "Well, in that case, have another. Grab as many as you want. My treat."

You stared at him. "Okay, who are you, and what did you do with Peter?"

"What?"

"This," you gestured towards him. "All of this. You're never nice."

"Well, when you've had a migraine that's lasted for three days, you kinda learn to have a little empathy for that person."

"Three days?" you said, shocked. "Wait, how did you know the exact amount of time?"

"Don’t let anyone tell you you’re just a pretty face… I’m an all-seeing god, remember? Nothing can get by me."

"Except when Apocalypse broke—"

"Okay! Okay, I don’t need to relive that, alright? Sheesh, you're worse than Raven."

You grinned, taking another almond.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

"For what? Comparing you to the blue lady? Anytime."

"No," you rolled your eyes. "I mean, for not pulling a… well, you. I really do appreciate it."

"Does this mean you’re leaving the Batcave? If we're getting sappy, then I should probably head out. I don’t want to risk my rep."

"You and I both know you have no reputation."

"True," he smiled. But hey, a guy can dream, right?"

You laughed, shaking your head. You were about to lay back down when he spoke up again.

"Actually," he said, looking at the ceiling, "there is one thing I'm good at."

"What's that?"

He didn't say anything. He just stared at the ceiling.

"Pete?"

His head whipped around to you, and with the same speed, he was leaning over you, his face inches away from yours.

"Peter, what—"

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your ear, and the comment you were about to say died in your throat.

"I can shut up."

The sound of his voice, so soft and low, sent shivers down your spine. He pulled away and gave you a quick smile.

"Just something to think about," he said, and you could see the red tint on his cheeks. He sat up and stood in front of you before you could say anything else.

"You can give the Walkman back whenever, so, uh, don't worry about it. Anyway, I gotta get going. You know, stuff to do and snacks to eat." He turned towards the door. "Anyway, feel better. Later."

And before you could comprehend what had just happened, he was gone just like the wind.

You sat in your bed, still feeling the phantom feeling of his breath on your ear.

And ironically, the pain in your head was starting to fade.

So, yes. Despite him being an annoying little shit, he did have his moments. Genuine, quiet, caring moments. And it always made you question whether or not he was secretly a clone.

You were still staring at the door, your mind running a mile a minute.

But then, as if he could read your thoughts, he peeked his head back into your room.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll tell everyone you're a huge Star Wars nerd."

He vanished, and a second later, he was back once more.

"Also, I definitely didn’t steal that Walkman from a certain someone, so, uh, have fun with the mixtape!"

With that, he was gone.

You rolled your eyes and laid back down, putting the headphones back on.

"Ass."

You will definitely be visiting the white-haired speedster tomorrow. He may have his moments, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve some good old-fashioned payback.

[just-aake]

Detecting Love Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Detecting Love. Can a spy who's been trained to lie her entire life show the person with the power to detect lies the truth what it means to be loved?

Warnings: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 5171

Natasha Romanoff lies.

Now, that’s to be expected, considering she is one of the greatest spies in the world. Ever since she was a child, she has been trained to be able to deceive everyone she meets.

Lying comes as easily to her as breathing, and deception is woven into every fiber of her being.

A charming smile here. A flirty wink there. 

Sweet words flow from her lips like honey.

Making everyone fall in love with all of the different false personas that she created for herself.

With a life and a past as shadowed as hers, it makes sense why she never even dared to imagine finding a person who can tolerate, let alone embrace, someone like her.

Then, she met you.

With your unique power to literally see through lies, you can detect the truth from her even when she’s at her most convincing. And despite learning about who she was and how she is, you accepted her unconditionally, not just as a friend, but as a partner.

For Natasha, being with someone who can truly see her is scary, and yet, that feeling is also better than breathing itself.

The two of you have been dating for several months now, and Natasha has never been happier.

Even if she sometimes occasionally struggles to express her affection openly in public.

As the two of you stroll through the compound, her eyes drift down once again in contemplation to your hand swinging casually at your side.

As if sensing her silent deliberation, you suddenly ask her curiously.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

Natasha straightens at your question and faces forward, responding promptly in an even tone, “No.” 

Now that is sure to sound honest to anyone else who heard it, but you’re different.

Natasha makes sure to trail back slightly behind your line of sight in an attempt to hide the glow she knows you’d probably see around her.

You don’t comment on her evading action, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you maintain your pace toward the Avenger’s personal elevator.

The two of you stand side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive when Natasha suddenly feels the back of your hand lightly graze her fingers before quickly pulling away.

She narrows her eyes in suspicion at you, but you maintain an innocent expression, your gaze fixed on the decreasing numbers above the elevator doors.

Facing forward once more, Natasha is about to dismiss the action as an accidental touch when she feels it again – the fleeting brush of your hand against hers. 

This time, she doesn't hesitate to shoot you an accusing stare. Yet, you continue to feign ignorance, your expression a perfect mask of innocence. 

A couple of seconds pass before your hand makes contact with hers for the third time. 

Before you can retract your hand, Natasha swiftly catches it and intertwines your fingers with hers before letting out a defeated huff.

You don’t utter a word about her actions, but a subtle smile curves your lips, exposing your amusement at her reaction. 

With a soft squeeze of her hand, you pull her into the elevator, the door closing shut behind the two of you.

It's moments like these that remind Natasha why she fell for you — your ability to see past her lies, even the most trivial ones.

Once the elevator door slides open to the private floor, the two of you are met with sounds of a heated argument between the Asgardian Avenger and his visiting brother.

“I know you did it, Loki! This is not the first time you’ve taken and hidden a treasure of mine!”

“Oh, would you stop being so dramatic? We're talking about a mug, not some enchanted artifact.”

You raise a questioning brow at her, silently asking her whether you two should come back at another time, but Natasha shakes her head resolutely in response, not willing to let anything prevent her from missing her morning coffee.

As the two of you walk past the brothers, Thor finally notices the new presence in the room.

“Y/n!” he calls excitedly. 

His hand lands on your shoulder, catching you in place between the two of them which in turn pulls your hand from her grasp.

Thor’s other hand points accusingly at his brother.

“Is Loki lying about taking my mug?”

Realizing that you’re being dragged into the middle of the argument, your eyes dart to Natasha for help, only for her to give you a thumbs up in encouragement as she takes a sip of the coffee that she just poured from the freshly made pot.

The other Asgardian crosses his arms and snickers derisively at his brother.

“Do you really think that this simple mortal can expose the literal god of mischief? I didn’t take your stupid mug, and she can’t prove any—”

“He’s lying,” you answer plainly, seeing the red aura surrounding the Asgardian.

Loki shuts his mouth in surprise, blinking at you for a moment in disbelief, before pointing at you with a disdainful look.

“I don’t like her,” he states bluntly.

“Ah ha!” Thor exclaims victoriously. “You did take it!”

The two continue with their arguing as you discreetly sneak away to Natasha’s side.

She hands you a cup of coffee which you accept with a soft thanks before an alarm on your phone rings, showing your reminder for the day. 

You groan lightly in disappointment, causing Natasha to raise a questioning brow at you as she raises her cup for another sip.

“I have some interviews to get to this morning, so I’ll have to see you later,” you tell her before pressing a quick kiss goodbye to her cheek.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin.

Swallowing her sip quickly, Natasha turns her head towards your direction, the reciprocating words also on her tongue.

“I—”

But you’ve already rushed away around the corner, disappearing from view. 

“…love you too,” Natasha finishes in a soft disappointed tone, her lips twisting at your action. 

Public displays of affection aside, Natasha has no problem wanting to tell you how much you mean to her.

But for some reason, you always seem to conveniently find ways to escape whenever she’s about to say those words to you.

“Now I’m no expert on relationships, but that right there was some cunning evasion tactic,” Loki comments, smirking at Natasha. “It appears that she’s not really interested in receiving such words from you.”

A slap on Loki's shoulder propels him forward a couple of steps as Thor reprimands, “Stop trying to cause problems for them, Loki.” 

He then turns to Natasha with a firm nod. 

“Don’t listen to him, Nat. Y/n loves you.”

Of course, she knows that. 

You whisper those words against her skin every morning when you think she’s still asleep and then again against her lips when you wake her up. 

The problem is that it seems that she never gets the chance to return the gesture before you find some way to rush away from the room or keep her mouth otherwise occupied and distracted.

A thud on the counter pulls her from her thoughts as Loki leans against the table with a mischievous grin.

“That girl can detect lies, right? Then why don’t you just tell her that you don’t love her, and then she’ll see the truth. That should be easy enough for you. After all, lying is your specialty,” Loki remarks before a smug expression forms on his face. 

“Unless that is, the truth is that you don’t actually love her,” he taunts.

Natasha glares at him silently, refusing to fall for his baiting provocation. Not wanting to give the trickster god any more amusement, she quickly downs the rest of her coffee and leaves for the meeting room, deciding to try again with you later.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

With the briefing finishing early, Natasha decides to visit your office during this break in between her meetings. Conversations flow around her as she walks past the front desk toward the administrative part of the building.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t let you enter without an appointment.”

“Well, is there any way you can just send a message to Y/n to let her know I’m here?”

Natasha’s head snaps up from her tablet at the sound of your name and curiously turns to the person who said it, only for her eyes to widen slightly in surprise at their identity.

Your ex-fiancée 

Stopping in her tracks, Natasha redirects her attention to the two of them.

“What did you need to see Y/n for?” she asks.

Your ex turns to her at her question, and an expression of amazement crosses her face.

“Oh, wow, you’re Black Widow.”

Brushing off her awed exclamation, Natasha crosses her arm expectantly as she repeats, a slight tone of protectiveness entering her voice.

“Why are you looking for Y/n?” 

Noticing her serious gaze and intimidating demeanor, your ex fidgets with her hands nervously as she responds.

“It’s kind of a private matter with an old case that I need her help with,” she explains.

Despite being the one who broke your heart, your mutual break up with her meant that the two of you are still somewhat friends, and as much as Natasha wants to, she can’t prevent your ex from seeking you out, especially since it seems she needs your help.

With an internal displeased sigh, Natasha gestures with her head towards the direction of the elevators.

“I’m heading over to her office right now if you want to come with me,” Natasha offers, nodding at the receptionist reassuringly to indicate that it’s okay, before walking away without another word. 

Natasha hears your ex scramble to follow quickly after her once she processes her words.

As the elevator doors close with the two of them inside, Natasha pulls out her phone to send you a warning text.

I’m on the way to your office with your ex.

A read message quickly appears under her text, indicating that you have seen it, and then a text bubble promptly pops up as you respond.

?!?!?

“So, do you and Y/n work together often?” your ex asks, trying to fill the silence with casual conversation.

Natasha looks up at her question, tucking her phone away. She crosses her arms and leans back against the elevator walls, adopting an intimidating posture, as she gives her a hard stare.

With a calm yet assertive tone, she tilts her head curtly and replies with the truth. 

“She’s my girlfriend.”

An awkward silence fills the small space after her answer, and your ex’s eyes dart around the enclosed space, seemingly realizing she’s essentially alone with the Black Widow who just revealed that she is in a relationship with you. 

Sensing her nervous energy, Natasha relaxes her posture, offering a more friendly demeanor.

“Relax, if I was going to do something, I would have done it already,” Natasha reassures. 

Your ex nods hesitantly, acknowledging Natasha’s attempt to diffuse the tension. After a moment of contemplation, she gathers the courage to speak up again. 

“So, you know about Y/n and her ability?” your ex asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, adding, “And about what happened between the two of you.”

The revelation hangs heavy in the air, plunging the elevator into an uncomfortable silence once again. 

Honestly, Natasha knows she shouldn’t keep putting your ex in these awkward positions with her responses. 

However, just because you are on friendly terms with her doesn’t mean Natasha has to be, especially considering she never held any goodwill toward the woman before.

Natasha redirects her focus to the digital display above the door, silently cursing and blaming Tony for the sluggish pace of the elevator. 

“I-I honestly did love her,” your ex confesses, breaking the silence once again.

At her statement, Natasha regards her with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting her to elaborate on her sudden declaration.

"I mean, Y/n’s great. It’s just…it got hard to imagine being with someone who always knows if you’re telling the truth or not,” your ex explains with a small sigh, offering a tiny sympathetic shrug before asking. “I’m sure you understand that feeling too, right?"

Irritation flares in Natasha’s chest at your ex’s words, her protective instincts surfacing in defense of you.

"Maybe the fact that she can see someone for who they truly are is what makes being with her so special," Natasha counters, her voice firm with conviction.

The remainder of the elevator ride passes in tense silence until the doors finally open with a ding, signaling their arrival at your floor. 

Throughout that time, one part of the conversation continues to bother Natasha, and she finds herself asking, wanting to know the answer.

“Did you tell her often?”

“What?” your ex asks, blinking in surprise and caught off guard by her sudden question. 

Natasha presses her lips together momentarily in displeasure at the topic before clarifying, “Did you tell Y/n that you loved her often, you know, before your feelings changed?”

“Oh, um, kind of,” she admits, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s actually kind of funny. Y/n would always have this cute little shy smile whenever I said it, so I ended up saying those words to her a lot.”

The irritation in Natasha’s chest intensifies at her answer, and her feelings must be evident on her face because your ex starts waving her hands frantically in a slight panic.

“But I’m positive Y/n won’t react the same way if I said it now,” she adds quickly.

Instead of responding, Natasha leaves the elevator without another word. 

Your ex’s reassurance does little to ease the irritation that she feels at not yet having been able to say those words to you herself.

The two of them arrive at the door of your office, only to find it locked with the lights turned off.

Just as Natasha is about to text you to ask you about your whereabouts, you emerge from around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of her.

Confused at your flustered state, Natasha gives you a questioning look as she asks, “Why are you rushing?”

You take a couple of deep breaths to catch your breath before answering.

“Because…I didn’t want to…to leave you waiting.”

Natasha feels her heart flutter at your words, her posture relaxing for a moment.

“…wow…you look good, Y/n,” your ex comments.

Natasha’s body immediately tenses again at the reminder of your ex’s presence, and she becomes further annoyed when she takes in the state of your appearance that prompted the remark from your ex.

You are in your usual workout outfit, a standard black tank top, showcasing your body with a gleam of sweat still on your skin, evidence of your workout session.

As if sensing Natasha’s increasing irritation, your ex gestures awkwardly in fear toward the waiting area some distance away.

“I’ll just wait over there.”

Natasha watches your ex walk away with a slight glare in her eyes. 

When she turns back to you, her expression instinctively softens with affection and curiosity.

“Where were you?” she asks.

“My last couple of interviews had to cancel, so I decided to go train for a bit,” you answer with a slight shrug. “You know, since you suggested that I try training whenever I’m bored and have some free time.”

Natasha's lips twist slightly in conflict at your response. She's happy you took her suggestion to heart, but now she's also upset that it led to you appearing in front of your ex in such a state.

Gesturing toward your ex, you ask, “Did she say why she’s here?”

Natasha sighs and shakes her head.

“She only mentioned that it was an old case that you can help her with.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding in understanding, probably already knowing what she’s referring to. 

Then you look at Natasha with a cute tilt of your head. 

“After I finish up with her, do you want to go out for some lunch?”

A small smile forms on Natasha’s face, her earlier irritation melting away at your suggestion. 

However, she knows she might not have enough time to wait and go out before her next meeting.

“How about I go ahead and pick up some takeout first, and then we can have lunch in your office when I return?” Natasha offers as a compromise.

You smile at her in response and press a soft kiss against her cheek.

“It’s a date.”

As you’re about to move past her, Natasha presses her hand firmly on your shoulder, stopping you and pushing you back to your original position.

You give her a questioning look in confusion.

“Did you take my hoodie again?” Natasha asks accusingly. 

Your eyes dart guiltily to your office before you mutter under your breath with a soft pout, “Maybe.”

Natasha nods slightly in contemplation, her eyes glancing at where your ex was waiting and then back to you.

“Put it on,” she says plainly.

You raise a brow at her in confusion and gesture to your body.

“Nat, I’m covered in sweat. I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers before you texted,” you explain.

“That text didn’t mean that you should come here all hot and sweaty in front of your ex like this,” Natasha remarks pointedly, crossing her arms.

A teasing grin pulls at your lips as a look of understanding crosses your face.

“You think I look hot right now?” you ask happily.

“Seriously?” Natasha deadpans. 

Unbothered by her signature intimidating gaze, you pull her closer by the loops on her belt and lean in with a slight tilt of your head.

“Are you jealous?” you tease lightly, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you try to hide your pleased grin.

Natasha rolls her eyes, though her lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She knows whether she responds truthfully or not, you probably already know the answer without the help of your ability, so she responds instead.

“Keep it up, and I’ll just come back with one takeout box for myself,” she warns.

You laugh lightly at her response, nodding your head in concession.

“Alright, I’ll put it on,” you promise, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. 

As you pull away, you whisper, “I love you,” the words brushing softly against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes had fluttered closed at the touch of your kiss, but they snapped open when she remembered she wanted to say those words back to you too.

However, to her disappointment, before she realized it, you had disappeared from her side. 

Turning around, she finds you already in your office, putting on her hoodie.

A mocking chuckle sounds beside her, and she turns to see Loki leaning casually against the wall.

“Oh, you didn’t even try that time,” he taunts.

Without hesitation, Natasha raises her wrist and shoots a widow bite at him. It flies through his body, dispersing the apparition that he had left there.

Groaning in annoyance at his presence, Natasha quickly leaves to go get your lunches before he can reappear and provoke her further.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“So this is the one lie detector that you can’t beat,” Fury comments with intrigue, as he examines your file.

Natasha closes the folder promptly and takes it from the table in front of him, stating firmly, “Her name’s Y/n, and no, you can’t have her. She’s just going to help review the list of potential recruits for you. Nothing else.”

She gives him a pointed look, stressing, “Especially not any SHIELD interrogations.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fury chuckles amusedly and raises a brow at her.

“Protective, are we?”

Before she can affirm the lengths she would go to minimize the risks you have to take, the door slams open, and you stroll in, giving her a wave and a charming smile. 

You stop in front of her, taking her hand suddenly in yours and giving it a light swing. 

“Ready to get started?” you ask. 

Natasha’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Something about your behavior was off and unlike you. 

She examines your expression critically, and then in one swift, fluid motion, she grabs your wrist and upper arm, pivots on her heel, and shifts her weight, seamlessly flipping you over her shoulder. 

With a resounding thud, Natasha slams you down onto the meeting table, the impact rattling the room.

Fury whistles lowly with a slight wince, a mixture of sympathy and admiration in his tone.

“Tough love, huh?” he remarks to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment and shakes her head, reaching to her side to grab something. She takes one of “your” wrists and snaps a golden cuff onto it. 

Immediately, the figure on the table shifts from your face and form to Loki’s. 

His eyes glare at her as he gathers his bearings, giving a slight grunt of pain when he moves.

“As if this woman knows anything about love,” he scoffs, standing up from the table with a groan.

Fury hums curiously at the sight of the trickster god, turning to Natasha.

“Who let him in here?”

Natasha sighs as she crosses her arms, replying, “Unfortunately, Thor and he are on friendly terms at the moment.”

Loki raises his hand and waves his finger at her in reprimand.

“Exactly. Now, is this any way to treat a guest of yours?” he taunts with a smirk before his eyes drift to the cuff on his wrist. His expression falls in recognition. “Where did you get this?”

A smirk forms on Natasha’s face as she answers, “Thor lent it to me when I asked. Since I know better than to just take his things.”

The cuff in question is an enchanted artifact that temporarily blocks the magical abilities of the wearer as explained by the god of thunder.

Loki scoffs in disbelief, placing one hand on his hips while waving his other wrist at her. 

“Hilarious, now take these off,” he demands.

Natasha’s smirk remains fixed as she shakes her head.

“I don’t have the key,” she admits, tapping her chin thoughtfully before revealing, “It must still be with Thor. But I’m sure you’ve already apologized to him for earlier, so you’d have no problem asking him to release you.”

Loki scowls, his expression darkening with disdain, and then he swiftly turns toward the exit.

“It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t want to accept any love from the likes of you,” he spits out angrily.

Natasha’s lips twist downward at his words, but before she can respond, a knock on the door interrupts the tense moment. 

Taking a calming breath, she calls out, “Come in,” already knowing who it is.

You open the door at Natasha’s invitation, only to dodge out of the way as Loki storms past you out of the room, muttering angry curses under his breath.

Turning back to Natasha, you notice the telltale red aura fading from around her and wonder what was the lie that you assume she had just told him.

As you approach her, Natasha’s contemplative, sullen expression quickly shifts to a neutral one when she catches your concerned gaze.

Before you can question her about it, Fury claps his hands firmly, looking between the two of you.

“Alright, let's finish this quickly then.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seated on your sofa, Natasha hugs a cushion pillow closer to her chest, seeking comfort as Loki’s harsh words echo in her mind.

Is it just a coincidence that you manage to avoid her every time she’s about to say those words to you? Or is it possible that the truth is you don’t actually want to hear those words from her?

You place a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts as you finish explaining what your ex needed from you.

“So, I just need to submit my notes on the case so that the court can close it out,” you explain.

Natasha hums absently in acknowledgment, but her mind drifts back to her insecurities.

Was Loki just messing with her or were all of your previous evading actions really on purpose?

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Natasha decides to settle this once and for all.

As you take your seat next to her and start the movie, Natasha initiates her plan. She quickly maneuvers herself over your lap, straddling you as her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing you firmly against the sofa with her body.

Your hand automatically rests on her waist and begins tracing light patterns against her side, but your lips twist into a small pout of confusion as you remark, “As exciting as this is, I thought this movie was your favorite.”

Natasha closes her eyes briefly, internally groaning at your adorable words and how incredibly in love she is with you. 

If only you could hear it from her for once.

Determined to not fail this time, she tries again.

“I lo—”

Her words are cut off, swallowed by you, as you pull her down into a deep kiss. 

Instinctively, she melts against your body, sliding her hands to caress the back of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss as she gets lost in the feeling of your lips moving against hers. 

Then, realization hits her, and she snaps her eyes open and pulls away. 

“Hold on, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“I know,” you interrupt, your hand covering her mouth to stop her mid-sentence. 

That’s when Natasha sees it.

The fear in your eyes.

“I know,” you repeat, giving her a look of understanding before swallowing nervously. 

You close your eyes as your head drops to your chest, a sad chuckle escaping from you. 

“You know, in all my life, I have never been afraid to discover if someone was lying to me,” you admit, shrugging lightly. “I’ve always known that people can lie, so it’s never really surprising or hurtful when it happens.” 

You let out a weary sigh and look up to meet her gaze with a sad smile. 

“Except for that one time.”

Natasha knows what moment you are referring to — the night your powers revealed that your ex no longer loved you.

The memory flashes in your mind, vivid and raw, as if it happened only yesterday. The betrayal, the heartache, the crushing realization when the red aura appeared around her after she uttered those fateful three words to you.

Your attention returns to the woman in front of you, the one who helped heal your heart. The one who now holds it. 

The one who also has the power to hurt you in the exact same way, even though you know she won’t.

“I love you so much, Natasha,” you say with breathless adoration and honesty, but your expression pinches in fear as you continue, your voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t think I'm ready to hear it from you yet. Just…not those exact words.”

You sigh sadly, understanding how unfair your words are to her, and your chest tightens guiltily as you apologize, “I’m sorry. Look, I’d understand if you want to leave.”

You look away from Natasha, your mouth pressing together tightly, fighting the urge to cry. 

The silence stretches out in the room before Natasha gently cradles your face, bringing your gaze back to her.

“You make me happy,” Natasha declares firmly.

You give her a confused look at her words.

“Wh-what?”

Ignoring your question, Natasha continues, asking meaningfully, “Am I lying?”

Your eyes observe her for a moment, but you don’t see any indication of a red aura appearing.

“No,” you answer in confusion.

Natasha nods before continuing, “I don’t mind that your powers reveal truths about me, like the moments when I want to hold your hand or when I’m jealous.”

She tilts her head at you in question.

“Am I lying?” she asks again.

Still not seeing any red aura appear around her, you shake your head at her in response.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, letting out a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m afraid that one day…” she pauses, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself for what she’s about to admit out loud. 

“…one day you’ll wake up and decide that because of who I was, who I am now is not enough for you to stay with me anymore.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you go to reassure her, “I wouldn’t—”

“Am I lying?” Natasha interrupts, not wanting you to worry about comforting her at this time.

Your eyes soften sadly when you see the vulnerability and fear in her eyes at her words. 

You reach up to cup her cheek, your thumb caressing her face gently in comfort as you whisper, “No.”

Leaning against your touch, Natasha lets out a steadying breath to compose herself for the final part of her point.

“So when I say I can wait…” she pauses, looking into your eyes with a serious and determined expression, making sure you can see the sincerity of her next words. 

“…I’ll wait for as long as you need so that one day I can say those words to you…am I lying?”

You watch her carefully for a moment, but nothing appears to counter her claim. Realizing her intentions to reveal her feelings in another way, your heart fills with love and adoration for her as you answer with a soft smile. 

“No, you’re not lying, Natasha.”

She gives you a gentle grin and cups your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before admitting, “That’s because when I’m with you, Y/n, it never feels like I’m living a lie.”

A breathless, awed gasp escapes from you at her words, and you can’t help but pull her in closer, her red hair falling around you like a curtain.

“I love you,” you whisper against her lips, the words filled with genuine adoration for the woman.

Natasha smiles softly at your words and closes the distance between the two of you once again, her kisses tender and filled with all of her unspoken feelings. Her lips move against yours with gentle urgency, conveying everything she can’t yet say aloud.

The warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her kiss, and the way she holds you protectively — all of it reassures you. 

It doesn’t matter that those three words haven’t been spoken explicitly — her actions, her presence, the look in her eyes says it all already.

Natasha may be considered one of the greatest spies in the world thanks in part to her exceptional ability to lie, but even she can’t hide the truth from you.

Without needing to hear her utter those fateful three words aloud, you already know the truth in your heart.

That Natasha Romanoff truly loves you too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 3

a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the love that you all gave to the first part! I hope you enjoyed this one too!

[scribblesofagoonerr]

just a bad period | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: monkey's bad period turns out to be labour

double the trouble masterlist

“Ow,” You hissed, jerking away as a sharp, intense pain twisted through your stomach, “What the fu…”

“Monkey! Time to wake up, or we’ll be late!” Leah’s voice cut through the fog in your head like a knife.

It’s too early for this much noise.

The hallway light slices under your bedroom door, and even with your head under the pillow, you can still hear Buddy charging around the house like it’s Christmas morning.

“Wakey wakey, sleepy head,” Leah popped her head around your bedroom door with a soft and genuine smile, “Time to get up!”

“M’ tired,” You mumbled, curling deeper into the warmth of your bed.

Leah chuckled and leaned against the doors, arms folded, eyebrows raised, “That’s what happens when you don’t go to bed at a decent time, my girl.”

“G’way,” You grumbled, dragging the covers tighter.

“Come on. Up,” Leah’s tone sharpened just slightly, as she stepped further into your room, “Maybe if you actually went to bed when I told you to, you wouldn’t feel like this every morning, hmm?”

“Too loud,” You whined, face still buried, aching everywhere.

Your stomach aches. It has been feeling that way for days now, and the idea of training feels impossible. But you don’t want to give Leah a reason to fuss. She already treats you like glass most days.

“Get up, Monkey,” Leah said, more stern now. Then the duvet is yanked away and the cold air rushes in, “We have this exact argument every morning. If you don’t get up now, you’ll be late. Again.”

“Urgh, whatever. I don’t care,” You snapped, but it’s hollow. You’re not in the mood to argue, but you’re also not in the mood to move.

Leah lets out a long-suffering sigh, “You’re not skipping training just because you’re tired. You’re a professional athlete, Logan. Get. Up. Now.”

“Muuuuum,” You whined, drawing out the word with dramatic flair, “I’m tired.”

“That’s not going to work on me, and you know it,” Leah said, already walking over to the window. She yanked the curtains open and let the light flood the room like a punch to the face.

You flinched.

“Get dressed,” Leah added firmly, “I want to actually see you eat breakfast today. I know you’ve been skipping it.”

Your stomach twisted again, low, sharp and wrong, and this time, it made your breath hitch. 

You tried not to let it show. Maybe it was just something that you ate. Maybe it was stress-related.

Or maybe it was your period coming on badly. That had to be it, there couldn’t be any other explanation. Could there?

“Mummy! Mummy!” You heard the telltale thud of Buddy’s headsteps heading in the direction of your bedroom.

“Oh, here comes trouble,” Leah muttered with a smirk, just as the three-year-old came flying into your room like she did most mornings.

“Monkey!” Buddy squealed excitedly, “Ook’! I got my Arsenal top on!” She twirled in place, showing off her top with all the excitement a 3-year-old could have, “Me be like ‘ou now!”

You forced a smile in an attempt to mask the pain that you currently felt, “You look great, Buddy!”

“I’m comin’ wif ‘ou and Mummy today!” Buddy declared, bouncing on her toes, “Me kick da balls an’ score loads of goals!”

You smiled faintly, “That sounds like a solid plan, shrimp.”

“And I go see Win as well! She sooo cute!” Buddy insisted.

“But not as cute as Tater-Tot though, right?” You teased.

“Noooo!” Buddy squealed, just as the little dog perked up and barked from his spot at the foot of your bed.

You reached over and ruffled his ears, grateful for the momentary distraction.

“I’m sure we’ll find, Bubba,” Leah said, still watching you carefully from across the room, and then her voice sharpened again, “Monkey, get up. I’m not asking again.”

You didn’t look up. Your hand tightened in Tater-Tot’s fur, jaw clenched against the pain that was building like a storm.

“I heard you the first time,” You muttered, voice muffled by your sleeve, “No need to get your knickers in a twist.”

Leah raised an eyebrow from the doorway, clearly not amused, “You can cut that attitude out right now, I’m not having it, Logan!”

You didn’t care. Not really. It was easier to be snappy then admit the way your stomach felt like it was trying to rip itself apart.

You kept your eyes down, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“Monkey—” Leah began.

“I’m gettin’ up, Mum!” You shouted across the room, louder than you meant to, “Urgh, why are you so annoyin’ today? Get off me back, will you?”

“Carry on, madam. You’re going the right way to being grounded,” Leah raised her voice, pointing her index finger straight at you, “Tired or not, that is not how we speak to each other.”

You froze, the guilt creeping up in your throat.

“I… I’m sorry,” You mumbled, suddenly very aware of how small your voice sounded.

“Right. Up. Now,” Leah said firmly, “I’m going downstairs to make breakfast for your sister. I expect you down in the next ten minutes.”

“Wait for me, Mummy! I comin’ wif ‘ou!” Buddy raced after Leah, not liking the mood that you seemed to be in, “Monks’ is bein’ grumpy!”

Leah chuckled, holding her hand out for Buddy to take, “I know, Bubba. Monkey isn’t a morning person, is she?”

“Nooo! She so grumpy!” Buddy chirped, “No like me! I wake up sooo early!”

“Don’t I know it,” Leah sighed as they walked into the kitchen together, “Right then, little miss. What do you want for breakfast this morning?”

“Coco Pops! Like Monks’ too!” Buddy insisted, letting go of Leah’s hand as she ran into the living room where she proceeded to tip all of her toys out onto the floor.

“Don’t make a—” Leah exhaled a sigh as she heard the familiar sound of Lego bricks landing on the floor, “... Mess. Never mind, I’ll just speak to myself then, I guess.”

The car was already off to a rocky start.

You were slumped in the passenger seat, hoodie drawn up around your face like it might somehow shield you from the morning sun and the rising discomfort twisting through your lower stomach.

Every single bump in the road made it worse. Sharp, cramping, and it was like something was pulling tight and refusing to let go.

Buddy was in the back, sitting in her car seat, kicking her feet and singing along to the music loudly.

“Turn it up, Mummy! I like dis one!” Buddy demanded, hearing the all too familiar intro of All Star by Smash Mouth kick in.

“Alright, Bubba. As you wish,” Leah reached over to turn the volume up on the stereo as the music blasted through the speakers, “I suppose it’s a nice break from Life Is A Highway,” She joked, peering to look at Buddy in the rearview mirror.

“I choose dis one for ‘ou, Monks’!” Buddy chirped from the back, beaming, “Shrek ‘our favourite, ‘member? Me know it cheer ‘ou up!”

You grunted in response, head leaning against the window.

Then Buddy started to sing along. Loudly. And off-key.

“Hey now, ‘ou’re an all-star, get ‘our game on—”

“Can you not?” You snapped suddenly, turning your head away from the glass, “God, you’re so loud! And you’re not even singing it right.”

There was a sudden silence that filled the car.

“Hey!” Leah exclaimed, her knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as she stared directly at you, “You don’t speak to your sister like that!”

You crossed your arms and slumped further in your seat, “I’ve got a headache.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Leah stated, her facial expression firm.

You didn’t answer. You just stared out of the window like the trees were somehow more interesting than the current conversation.

“Logan,” Leah continued, her voice not wavering, “What is going on with you today? Tired or not, you don’t speak to anyone like that. Including your little sister.”

“I said whatever, okay?” You muttered, glaring down at your lap, “Can everyone just stop speaking to me like I’m five? I’m almost fuckin’ twenty!”

“Logan Reece!” Leah scolded, her hands tightening on the steering wheel as she pulled up to a set of lights, “I will not have you swearing around your little sister, that stops now! Buddy was just trying to be kind and cheer you up. You do not get to snap at people just because you’re in a mood, Logan! That is not acceptable, and I won’t stand for it!”

“I… I’m not in a mood, Mum, ” You retorted, even though the certain tone of your voice made it clear that you were, “I just… I don’t want to deal with this today, alright?”

“Oh, really? You could have fooled me,” Leah raised an eyebrow, turning her attention back to the road, “Well, I suggest that whatever mood you’re in, you snap out of it before we get to London Colney because that attitude is unacceptable. I’m not going to take it, and I damn sure know that none of your aunties will either. If you carry on, then you’ll be finding yourself in time out, and I’m not bluffing on that one. Sort it out, right now.”

“Whatever,” You muttered again, yanking your hood further over your head, keeping your arms crossed so tightly it was like you were trying to disappear into yourself.

“Logan, I mean it,” Leah warned, her voice lower now, but no less firm, “You don’t get to throw tantrums and take your mood out on everyone else. You’re not the only person in this car.”

From the back seat, Buddy sat there, quietly sniffling, which broke the silence like glass.

You blinked, heart stuttering as you twisted just enough to glance over your shoulder.

You did feel awful. You didn’t mean to upset Buddy.

Buddy had gone quiet, her lower lip wobbling as she clutched Mr Bear, her little brown teddy that never left her side. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears, and she looked hurt.

Not angry. Not loud. Just… hurt.

“I only tryin’ to be nice,” Buddy mumbled, her voice small, almost trembling, “I pick ‘appy song… for ‘ou, Monks’. I just want ‘ou to smile.”

Your stomach twisted, but it was no longer from the cramps anymore.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Too quiet.

Even with All Star still faintly humming through the speakers, the silence between the three of you was like a weight. Leah didn’t speak again—not out loud, anyway, but you could feel her disapproval radiating from the driver’s seat. 

It wasn’t really that angry. But it felt worse than that.

Instead, it was disappointment.

Buddy didn’t sing again, she just clutched Mr Bear tighter, her thumb creeping into her mouth—she didn’t even ask for another song after All Star finished. That was usually her cue to demand another song.

You kept your face turned to the window for the remainder of the ride, but you could still her in the reflection—small, quiet, and not bouncing like usual.

When Leah finally pulled into the car park at London Colney, she sighed and shut the ignition off but didn’t move. Her fingers rested on the steering wheel, tapping once, and then twice.

“Monkey,” Leah turned her head to you, her voice remained softer, but this time it still carried weight, “Right, young lady, I don’t know what on earth is going on with you this morning but that does not excuse the way that you spoke to your sister.”

You didn’t answer.

“I’m telling you now, Logan,” Leah continued to state, using your proper name to note the sternness of her words, “Pack it in. I don’t want to hear about you being horrible to anyone. Not your little sister. And not any of your aunts. Your attitude isn’t going to fly, and if you continue to act the way that you do, then you’ll be sitting out of training. I’m not going to stand by and watch you act like a complete brat for no apparent reason. And you will be going to bed at a proper time tonight. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mum,” You begrudgingly responded.

Leah exhaled a sigh, “I can tell there’s something wrong with you, Monkey, whether you want to talk to me about it or not. But I do expect you to apologise to your sister. Properly.”

You didn’t answer.

Leah turned her gaze to the backseat, “Right then, Bubba. Come on. We’ll go and find your auntie’s now, yeah?”

“I go find Auntie Wally,” Buddy mumbled, unbuckling herself with slow and sluggish hands. She didn’t bounce. She didn’t giggle. She climbed out of the car with Mr Bear clutched to her chest, holding Leah’s hand but keeping her head down.

You hesitated before opening the passenger door. You felt heavy. Everything did.

As soon as your feet hit the pavement, the cramps kicked up again, sharp enough to make your knees nearly buckle. You winced, steadying yourself on the car door, trying to mask it behind a yawn.

Leah glanced over, immediately noticing, “Monkey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” You lied, brushing past her.

Leah narrowed her eyes but didn’t push, not yet. Not with Buddy still sniffling beside her.

You made it through the entrance of the training ground without speaking to either of them. Lia was waiting in the reception area with a big smile on her face, crouching down the moment she saw Buddy.

“There’s my favourite niece,” Lia grinned, Buddy racing towards her and crashing into her chest, still sniffling slightly, “Oh, no. What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“Monks’ shout at me an’ be mean!” Buddy sniffled, a pout on her face to show her sadness, “I don’ like ‘er no more!”

Lia furrowed a brow, “What?” She asked, confused, looking towards Leah for more of an explanation.

“Things have been a bit… tense this morning,” Leah explained, running a hand through her hair, “Monkey and I are going to have a little chat about it in a bit, aren’t we?”

You didn’t answer.

Lia stood slowly, lifting Buddy into her arms, “How about me and you go and pick out some footballs? Get you some practice scoring goals.”

“Uh-huh,” Buddy sniffled, nodding in agreement as she clung to Lia with her hands wrapped tightly around the woman’s neck.

“I’ll take care of Buddy. You sort Monkey out,” Lia reassured the blonde, patting her on the arm as she brushed past her, “There’s something wrong with her. Go and talk to her.”

That’s when you felt the sudden anger, noting the way that Lia rested her hand on Leah’s arm for that long, “What is it? Elle goes back to America, and you move on to Wally instead, Mum?”

Leah’s facial expression darkened, “Right, you, me and you are going to have a chat,” She said firmly before grabbing hold of your upper bicep and dragging you into a private room so you could have your ear chewed off, “What was all that about? You know I’m with Elle. You know me and your auntie Wally are good friends—This is more than you just being tired, Monkey, so what is it?”

“I… Uh…” You froze, you didn’t know what to tell her, so you resorted to desperate measures, “Nothing! God, Mum can you just piss of for once in your life and leave me alone? I’m fine—Everything is fine! I’m absolutely fuckin’ fine!”

“LOGAN!” Leah raised her voice, her tone of voice firm and clipped, “I suggest that you stop swearing and stop with the attitude. I asked you a simple question. You're my daughter, if there’s something wrong, then tell me, and I can try and help with whatever it is! You do not speak to me like that, madam! Who do you think you are? You carry on the way you’re going, and you’ll be benched, do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” You murmured, not caring a less about saying anything more, “Can I go now, or are you not done chewing my ear off?”

“No… No, you can’t go. We’re not doing talking yet,” Leah caught your arm as you tried to walk off from her, “What is going on, Monkey? I know you, and I know there is something more that you’re not telling me. What’s the matter?”

“... I dunno,” You muttered, staring at the floor.

It was a weak response, and you knew it. Leah knew it too.

“Cut the crap with me, lady. You don’t just act like you are today for no reason,” Leah said softly but firmly, “What is the reason for it? If there’s something wrong with you, then you need to tell me, Monkey. It’s not healthy to keep things bottled up, you know this. We’ve been through this before, haven’t we?”

You clenched your jaw, blinking hard. The sting in your belly hadn’t gone away—it was just gradually getting worse now. Twisting, dragging, like something inside was clawing to be noticed.

Leah’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping low with warning, “You wanna keep pushing me? You’re three seconds away from being grounded until you’re thirty, Logan. Do you understand me?”

You gave her a sullen glare, your mouth twitching like you wanted to throw another jab. That fire. The rage and pain and stubborn pride, all boiling over.

“Logan Reece, don’t you dare roll your eyes at me—God, I swear…”

“Stop treating me like I’m a bloody kid!” You snapped, hot tears prickling even as you tried to sound tough.

Leah’s jaw clenched. She stepped in closer, nostrils flaring. Her hand twitched at her side like she wasn’t sure if she was going to backhand you or catch you as you fell apart, “I wouldn’t have to if you just grew up, Logan Reece! You think this behaviour is any way to act and show that you’re responsible or mature?”

“I’m… I’m not throwing a tantrum! I am acting responsibe and mature!” You fired back at her.

“You aren’t,” Leah snapped, her voice trembling now, not from fear but fury, frustration, maybe even worry, “This behaviour I am seeing right now shows that you’re in no way mature or responsible as you think you are! I’ve had enough, Logan. You’re grounded. No electronics. No going out with your friends. You’re done. You come here, you train. You play in matches, and you go home… If you’re not going to learn how to talk to people, then you can think again. I’m not messing around this time. And if you think that you can sulk your way out of it—”

The door opened with a soft creak, and in walked Kim, stopping dead at the charged silence. Her eyes flicked from you to Leah, who looked like she was seconds from exploding—or crying.

“What’s going on—Wally has Buddy crying on her, and Le, I can hear you shouting down the corridor,” Kim murmured, confused.

Leah looked over her shoulder, hand still wrapped around your arm while her shoulders were tight with tension, “She’s been mouthing off all morning,” She said through gritted teeth, “Ignoring direct instructions and now she’s making accusations about me and Lia being more than friends!”

Kim’s brow creased as she looked at you properly—your face was pale, your lips drawn thin, and your eyes glassy.

“Right,” Kim began, looking concerned, “Le, maybe you should go and take a breather, yeah? I’ll handle it.”

“I know there’s something wrong, but she won’t tell me,” Leah murmured, raking a hand through her hair as she shot you a look in concern, “Maybe you can try and get it out of her, please?”

“I’ll try,” Kim reassured her, walking closer, keeping her voice calm and reassured, “Leah, go take a walk, okay? It’s not good to be wound up in this situation.”

“Alright,” Leah retorted, starting to walk out of the room before sharing one last longing look with you, “I… I don’t know if there’s anything wrong, if there’s something you’re not telling me. But please, talk to your Auntie Kimmy. Don’t bottle it up inside, yeah? It’s not healthy, Monkey.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The pain in your stomach was horrific.

“Monkey,” Kim walked closer, keeping her voice calm and measured, “Sweetheart, what’s going on with you today? This doesn’t seem like you.”

You didn’t know what to say.

“Logan,” Kim said your first name, which made you finally glance up and look at her, her expression melting into deep concern, “What’s the matter? Your Mum is severely worried about you—We all are. Whatever’s wrong, talk to me, we can fix it.”

Your defence finally cracked. Your lower lip trembled, and your arms wrapped around your stomach like a shield.

“I just feel… crap,” You whispered, voice cracking, “I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think it’s my period; it hurts. More than usual.”

Kim crouched in front of you, her hand carefully just above your arm, while her face was etched with concern, “How long has it been like this, sweetheart?” She asked gently, “Because this… this doesn’t look like a bad period. You’re in a lot of pain here, Monkey. I think it could be something else, something more serious—I think we need to get your Mum in here.”

“N… No,” You mumbled, shaking your head, “I doon’t want her to worry about me. I’m fine.”

Kim brushed a strand of hair out of your face, “Monkey—”

“No!” Your voice rose sharply, eyes wide, “I… I don’t want her to find out. I don’t want her fussing over me. It’s just my period. It’s not a big deal!”

“It is a big deal,” Kim said softly, but firmly, “You’re in agony, Monkey. It’s clear to see, and you’ve been snapping at everyone—including your little sister, who’s innocent in all of this and doesn’t understand what you’re going through. Something’s not right, and you need help. Let me go get your mum, yeah? She’ll understand, won’t she?”

“N… Ow, fuckin’ hell,” You gasped, doubling over as a searing wave of pain tore through you. Your hands clutched your lower stomach, fingernails digging into the fabric of your top.

Kim was beside you instantly, one arm steadying your back, “Alright, okay, c’mere,” She murmured, soothing, “Let’s just sit down for a second, yeah? Just breathe for me, Monkey. You’re alright—I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

You barely registered Kim helping you onto the bench, your breathing shallow and teeth clenched against the pain that seemed to pulse through every nerve.

“There you go, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” Kim said quietly, brushing a few strands of hair from your clammy forehead, “You’re okay. Just keep breathing, alright?”

“Auntie K… Kimmy, it hurts,” You mumbled weakly, your whole body trembling. You hated this—being seen like this, weak and crumbling.

“Monkey?” Leah appeared back in the room, sharp with worry as she raced to your side, “Baby, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Your stomach flopped, not from the pain this time, but pure dread. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Se’s in a lot of pain, Le,” Kim explained to her, “It’s in her lower abdomen. I don’t think this is just a period. I think we should get the medics in.”

“I told you not to tell her,” You hissed, your voice small and broken while your arms tightened around yourself, “I… I’m fine. It’s just… just a bad period.”

Concern etched Leah’s face as she crouched in front of you, “This is more than just a bad period, my girl. I’m seriously concerned about you right now.”

“Urgh, no mum, I’m fine!” You tried to plead the fifth, sure you didn’t feel great all but you didn’t want to miss the opportunity to train, “Please stop hovering. I’m fine. I… I ust want to train, and not have you on my back,”

“Oh no, I don’t think so. If you’re in this much pain, then you’re sitting this one out,” Leah declared, arms crossed over her chest.

“Mum! You… You can’t do that,” You protested.

“I can, and I am. I’m not having you in so much pain and suffering while training,” Leah insisted, motioning to the bench in the far corner, “Bench. Sit. Now.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ dog, you know?” You argued back with her, every fibre inside you hurt, and you really didn’t mean to snap, but the pain made everything unbearable, “I’m fine to train! I’ve been doing it all this time!”

Leah’s face grew darker, “Do not swear at me, Logan! I’m your mum, and I’m telling you that you’re sitting this one out.”

“Mum, I’m fine. It’s just… It’s just a bad period. I’ll be fine!” You protested in your defence, which clearly wasn’t going the way that you hoped.

“No, Logan. I’m putting my foot down!” Leah bit back, resting her hands on her hips, “What sort of mum would I be if I were to let you train while you’re experiencing this amount of pain?” 

“I don’t care. Urgh, get off my back, will you? I’ll be fine—” You walked off before she even had a chance to respond, doing so much as sticking your middle finger up at her.

“Monkey, come back, we’re not done talking about this—Monkey!” Leah shouted, voice sharp and rising, “Don’t ignore me, Logan! Get back here, Logan Reece!”

You didn’t turn around. Didn’t even flinch. You just kept walking with your jaw clenched, the heat of irritation burning through the ache in your stomach. 

Kyra was already eyeing you like she knew a storm was coming, “What’s up, mate?” She asked quietly.

You huffed, folding your arms across your stomach, “Dude, my mum is proper doin’ my head in.”

“Ah, well,” Kyra gave you a half-smile, “She’s just being caring, I guess?”

“I’ve only got bad period cramps, and she’s trying to make me sit out of training. How’s that fair?” You grumbled, your tone laced with sarcasm.

“If you’re in a lot of pain, then maybe it’s for the best,” Kyra said gently, “You know she  only cares about you.”

“I’ll be… fine,” You bit out through gritted teeth, one arm instinctively wrapping tighter around your middle, “She’s overreacting so much. It’s literally just period cramps. N… Nothing I haven’t had before, is it?”

“I don’t know,” Kyra said with a sideways glance, “You seem like you’re in a lot of pain, Monkey.”

“Oh my God, not you as well,” You scowled at your best friend, “I’ve already got my mum and auntie Kimmy breathing down my neck. I’m… I’m completely fine.”

Kyra still didn’t look entirely convinced, “Are you sure?”

“Y… Yes,” You hissed, feeling another wave of pain flood through you.

“Are you sure about that, my girl?” A voice appeared behind you, colder than you expected.

You froze.

Leah.

She’d heard everything, clearly, and was not in the mood for your games.

“Right, that’s enough,” Leah stepped beside you, her presence instantly commanding as she gently grabbed your bicep—not enough to hurt you, but enough to send the message that she was no longer messing about, “With me. Now. Let’s go.”

“Mum…” You began to protest.

“No. Don’t ‘Mum’ me right now, Logan Reece,” Leah said lowly, her voice sharp with frustration, “You’re not well, you’re being sincerely rude, and now you’re ignoring me after I’ve told you to sit out for your good.”

“I said I’m… I’m fine!” You tried to argue again, but the sentence barely made it out before another, sharper pain ripped through your abdomen.

Your knees buckled.

“Monkey,” Leah gasped, lunging forward to catch you before you hit the ground.

Your head dropped against her chest as a broken gasp escaped your throat while you gripped your stomach. The pain was no longer dull and cramping—it was sharp, deep, and radiating through your lower body like your insides were being twisted in a vice.

“M… Mum,” You whimpered, feeling afraid that something was seriously wrong.

Leah’s arms immediately went around you, “Woah, woah—okay, it’s alright, baby girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’m right here.”

Your face was buried against her as your whole body trembled, “I… I’m scared,” You choked out, all the venom gone and now replaced with fear, “I… I don’t feel right. Something’s really wrong.”

“I know, my girl, I know,” Leah’s voice softened instantly, her hand stroking the back of your head, “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to sort it out, yeah? Just hold onto me, I’ve got you.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Kyra questioned, panicked.

“She’ll be alright,” Leah turned to your best friend, “Go and get a medic. Quickly.”

“O… Okay,” Kyra didn’t hesitate to rush and find the team of medics to help you.

“I’m scared,” You admitted, your voice barely audible.

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Leah murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Come on. Let’s go inside. Somewhere quiet. We’ll wait for the medics, yeah? It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be okay.”

You nodded shakily, too weak to walk on your own, as Leah half-carried you across the pitch and inside the training grounds, settling you on the sofa in the player’s lounge with her arms still around you.

“I know you’re scared, Monkey. Do you want Mini to hold?” Leah asked gently, already rummaging through her bag that she had with her before you could answer, “Here she is, baby. Just hold her. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m right here. I’m going anywhere.”

Leah tucked your stuffed monkey into your lap, and you curled around it, shaking.

“I… I didn’t want to tell you,” You admitted in a tiny voice, “Because I didn’t want to be benched or fussed over. But something’s wrong, Mum. I… I don’t feel right. It really hurts.  I just want the pain to go away. Make it stop… Please, make it stop.”

Leh was already moving, her whole face changing. The whole stern mum persona evaporated instantly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Monkey, it’s going to be okay,” Leah stepped forward and gently cupped your cheek. Her thumb brushed along your jaw as she tilted your face up to meet hers, “Why didn’t you say something sooner, baby?”

“Because… I knew you’d make a fuss,” You muttered.

Leah gave you a look. Not angry. Just fell off something deeper… hurt, maybe. Worry. Something maternal and heavy.

“I am going to make a fuss, Monkey,” Leah said, brushing your hair out of your face, “Because I’m your mum, and I love you. It’s my job to make sure you’re okay. And if there is something wrong, I need you to tell me where it hurts. If you’ve been feeling like this for days, then we need to see about getting some professional help to figure out what is going on.”

You bit your bottom lip, “I… I just didn’t want you to think I’m weak. I’m not, but Mum… this really hurts... Please… Please just make it stop.”

Leah pulled you into her chest again, rocking you gently, “Oh, my girl Being in pain isn’t a weakness. You not telling me is what scares me. You’ve been acting out all morning because you’re hurting and scared, and overwhelmed, and instead of telling me about it, you’ve just been trying to power through and cope with it on your own.”

You nodded into her top.

“But now we need to think about what we’re going to do next,” Leah said, gently, “Because you can’t go on this and be in so much pain, baby.”

You sniffled, cuddling Mini tighter. Leah pressed another kiss to your hair, “Whatever happens, I’m right here, okay? I don’t like you suffering so much in silence. You can talk to me, always. You don’t have to bottle anything up. We’ve talked about this.”

You barely managed a nod, your face still buried against her chest, tears streaking your cheeks, your grip on Mini tightening.

And then… warmth. A sudden gush of it.

You froze.

Leah must’ve felt the change in your posture immediately, because she shifted slightly to look down, only to find a spreading damp patch beneath you both on the sofa, “Oh, Monkey,” She murmured, gentle but firm, assuming the worst, “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s only a little accident. We can get you cleared up in no time, and nobody will know anything different. You’re really not feeling well today, are you?”

But your heart was already pounding in your ears.

Something definitely wasn’t right.

You couldn’t have another accident, not here. Not now.

“N… No, Mum—” Your voice cracked, rising with intense panic as you shoved yourself up, “I… I didn’t. I swear—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Leah stood too, concern etched into every inch of her face, “It’s nothing that we’ve not sorted out before. It’s going to be fine. I know you’re not feeling yourself, and we’re going to get to the bottom of what is going on. We just need to wait for the medics, but how about we go and clean up first, yeah?”

“N… No,” Before Leah could stop you, you were on your feet and bolting in the direction of the bathroom with Mini still clutched in your hand, the other pressed protectively to your abdomen.

You could hear your name echoed behind you. Leah’s voice, sharp with urgency and concern.

But you didn’t stop.

You couldn’t.

You felt so ashamed about everything that you just kept running until you came to the toilets.

“Monkey?” You heard a voice in the distance. 

This one was different.

Alessia.

You barely registered her voice as you came to a stop outside the toilets in the training grounds, You pushed open the door, staggering to the sink as you gripped the edge of it for support just as a wave of pressure crashed through you so hard that your knees almost gave out again.

Your breathing turned ragged.

“M… Monkey?” Alessia followed you into the toilets, concern etched on her face, “What’s the matter?”

You looked up in the mirror. Your face was pale as a ghost, wide-eyed and hunched over and you saw Alessia’s reflection standing in the doorway.

“What’s going on? Has something happened?” Alessia continued to ask, a mixture of confusion and concern written across her face.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” You whimpered, folding over slightly as you clutched your stomach again, “I’m scared, L… Lessi!”

Alessia was by your side in an instant, guiding you to lean against the wall, “Okay, okay, it’s alright. Just breathe,” She paused, “Deep breaths. That’s it… Listen, do you want me to get your Mum—?”

“I’m right here,” Leah burst into the toilets, more frantic this time as her eyes fly straight to you, hunched over and trembling, “C’mere, sweetheart. You can’t just run off like that, not while you’re in this condition, hey?”

“M… Mummy,” Your voice cracked as you turned into her open arms, you sounded so small and full of terror that every instinct in Leah kicked into overdrive, “I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so scared.”

“It’s alright, baby. I’m right here,” Leah whispered, cupping your head and holding you tight, “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Alessia caught Leah’s eyes over your head.

“She’s in a pretty bad way, Le,” Alessia said urgently, “This isn’t just bad cramps or a stomach bug. I think this is something a lot more serious.”

“I know,” Leah nodded, trying to steady her own nerves as she supported you with one arm, “Listen, my girl, I think we might need to take a little trip to the hospital—I know you don’t like them, but this is something that medicine just isn’t going to fix alone.”

“No!” You whimpered instantly, a wave of fresh panic rising in your chest, “I… I don’t want to go there! I hate hospitals! I… I don’t want to go!”

“I know, my girl, I know,” Leah whispered, tucking Mini back into your arms and gently rocking you, “But you’re in a lot of pain right now. We need to get some help, okay? This is something that doctors and nurses will be able to help you with… I can’t do anything, baby.”

Alessia stepped back quickly as the sound of running footsteps echoed down the corridor. Beth ran in, flushed and wide-eyed, skidding to a stop in the doorway, “What the hell’s going on?”

“Something’s not right with Monkey,” Alessia said immediately, voice tense, “There’s something really wrong with her.”

Beth furrowed her eyebrows, already reaching for her phone in her pocket,  “I’ll phone for an ambulance!” She exclaimed, not wasting time to dial the emergency services, “Ambulance please… My niece is experiencing severe pains in her lower abdomen—What, no, of course she’s not pregnant!”

“I found the medics—Well, technically, I found Rose!” Kyra appeared, breathless and red-faced behind Beth with the team of club medics following close behind, “It took a while, but I found her! Oh, and Steph as well!”

“What’s going on? Kyra said Monkey was in pain?” Steph chimed in, concerned.

“In here!” Leah called, her voice low and clear now, “We need help now—she’s in a serious amount of pain and something’s not right with her!”

Rose  stepped forward quickly, already pulling on gloves, “How long has she been like this?”

“I… I don’t know,” Leah said shakily, crouching beside you again, “She’s only been this bad in the last couple of hours. Please… help her. She’s never been this bad before.”

“We’ll do our best. Has anyone called for an ambulance?” Rose asked, already kneeling beside you.

“They’re on their way,” Beth reported, sliding her phone into her back pocket, “But there’s a half-hour wait.”

“Bloody typical,” Leah muttered, her voice sharp with frustration, “This is an emergency. They need to be quicker.”

“I… I can feel pressure,” You complained, confused as to what is happening.

“Hi, Monkey,” Rose smiled gently, crouching beside you, you knew her, she was familiar, and you knew you could trust her, “Am I okay to have a look at your stomach?”

You managed a slight nod, the pain making it harder to breathe, let alone speak.

Leah stroked your hair gently, “You’re okay, baby girl. Just let them help, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

Rose gently pressed a hand to your abdomen, and then pulled her hand back sharply as her eyes widened, “She’s rock hard across the lower abdomen,” She muttered, “Tense as anything.”

“What… What the fuck does that mean?” Leah questioned, and the panic spread across her face.

Rose didn’t say anything right away. Her focus remained on you, her fingers gently assessing as she moved with purpose. But her face was changing. carefully blank with her lips thinning and her brows drawing together.

Leah could feel the hairs rise on the back of her neck.

“Rose,” Leah said again, firmer this time, “What the fuck does that mean?”

The medic glanced briefly at her, keeping her voice calm but edged with urgency, “It could mean a number of things, but the tightness and location… Well, it’s consistent with advanced labour.”

Leah’s stomach dropped, “I’m sorry—what?!”

“Mum… I’m scared,” You whimpered, clutching Mini tightly against your chest, body curling with the next wave of pain.

“I know, baby, I know, it’s going to be okay,” Leah did her best to keep you calm and not panicked, “It’s going to be fine. It’s alright.”

“Wait, she’s having contractions?” Beth blurted, her eyes flicking between you and the medic, “Wait, wait, Rose, are you saying that she’s in… that she’s in labour?”

“No,” Leah shook her head instantly, denial breaking across her face, “No, no, she can’t be—I would’ve known. There’s no… There’s no way this can be happening! There’s just no way—”

“Leah,” Alessia spoke up for the first time in a while, giving her a knowing look, “You were pregnant with Buddy. You should know.”

“No…” Leah swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, and shook her head again as she let out a small laugh, “N… No, you’ve made a mistake—Monkey? Did… Did you know?”

“I didn’t know,” You sobbed suddenly, your voice tiny, high-pitched and full of shame, “I swear, Mum, I… I didn’t know—”

It hit Leah like a freight train.

The accident. The water. The pain. The panic.

Her blood ran cold.

“No…” Leah whispered, almost to herself, “Fuck. No. No, tell me that… tell me you don’t think that—” Her head snapped towards Rose.

“I haven’t had a look but judging by the amount of pain that Monkey seems to be experiencing, it’s very possible it’s true,” Rose explained to Leah before turning directly towards you,“Monkey, am I alright to have a look, and see if I can see the head?”

You whimpered in defeat. You didn’t want to believe it.

How could you be pregnant?

Rose nodded gently, as if sensing your turmoil and carefully moved to help ease you back onto the floor.

“Okay, Monkey, I’m going to have to check if the baby’s coming now,” Rose said softly but firmly, “I promise I’m going to be as gentle as I can.”

Leah crouched down beside you again, her hand tightening protectively around yours, “I’m right here, my girl,” She whispered, keeping her voice steady but breaking with emotion, “Whatever happens, I’m right here. You’re not alone.”

Rose’s fingers moved cautiously, and then she looked up, eyes wide but calm.

“Okay, I can see the head. The baby is crowning,” Rose explained.

Leah’s breath caught.

“This baby is coming right now. It’s not going to wait any longer,” Rose said gently, her eyes meeting Leah’s without hesitation.

Leah’s mouth opened, but no sound came out as her face drained of colour.

Wh… What does that mean?” Steph asked, confused.

“It means that we’re going to have to deliver the baby here,” Rose explained, glancing around the group of girls hovered around, “Steph, get the emergency services back on the phone, tell them we’ve got a nineteen year old in labour and the baby is crowning, and ask them for direct instructions, and Beth! I’m going to need help!”

“W… What?” Beth asked, eyes wide in alarm, “You want me to help deliver this baby?”

“We have no time to discuss it. This baby is coming, and they’re not waiting,” Rose said sharply, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Beth dropped to her knees beside Rose without another word, her face was pale but determined, shaking slightly as she pulled on a pair of gloves from the emergency kit that Rose had brought with her.

Steph was already fumbling with her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialled the number, “Yeah. Hi, We’ve got a nineteen-year-old in labour, and… and she’s crowning,” She spared a look at you, “Whatever that means. We’ve already phoned an ambulance and been told their on the way but I don’t think this baby is going to wait any longer, so we’re in need of instructions, now, please!”

Your breathing was shallow and erratic as you clung to Leah like a lifeline, “M… Mum, I’m really scared,” You stammered in a panic, you had Mini crushed to your chest and hers. The pain was unbearable, all-consuming, and you couldn’t make sense of anything, “It hurts, Mummy. It hurts so bad,” You sobbed, voice barely audible.

“I know, my girl, I know,” Leah whispered, pressing her forehead to yours, even as tears streamed down her face, “But you’re doing so well, baby. You’re being so brave. Just hold on to me.”

“What’re they saying, Steph?” Rose checked in with Steph to see what the emergency services were saying.

“They said don’t move her, support her head… and they’re going to walk you through it,” Steph quickly explained, putting the phone on loudspeaker for clear instructions, “Leah, are you going to find Jordan? She needs to know about this.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I will in a minute,” Leah murmured, still in a state of disbelief that this was really happening.

“Okay, listen to me, Monkey. I’m going to need you to push soon, Monkey,” Rose said gently, positioning herself, “With the next contraction, I need you to try and push, okay? We’re right here. You can do this.”

“N… No, I can’t! I can’t do it! I… I don’t know how,” You whimpered, panic rising again as your body shook.

“You can, my girl. You can do it,” Leah said firmly, her hands cupping your face, “You can. Look at me, Monkey. You trust me, right?”

You nodded, just a small, tiny movement.

“Then listen to me, my girl. When Rose tells you to push, you have to do it,” Leah told you, keeping a firm tone, “You’re not alone, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go. I’m right here. We all are.”

“O… Okay,” You mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard.

Then, another contraction ripped through your body, and this time, Rose’s voice cut through it, “Now, Monkey. Push!”

You screamed as you bore down, Leah holding you tightly as she continued to whisper encouragement in your ear, “That’s it, my girl. You’re doing so well. You’re so, so well. My brave girl.”

“That’s it, Monkey, that’s it. And again, just like that,” Rose encouraged, “You’re doing amazing.”

“I can’t—I don’t understand what’s happening. H… How is this real?” You sobbed, gripping Leah’s hand so tightly that she winced.

“Yes, you can, Monkey!” Leah insisted, “I know it’s scary, but you’re not alone. I’m right here. You need to push. Just one more time, yeah?”

The contraction hit again, and this time, your body took over.

You screamed, your whole frame tensing, and Beth guided the baby’s head out carefully while murmuring something soft and steady.

“One more, one more time, Monkey. You’re almost there!” Rose encouraged gently.

With one final cry, your body gave in, and suddenly, there was an unmistakable, wet sound of a baby being born.

A split second of stillness.

Then, a shrill cry.

High-pitched. Raw. Real.

Leah gasped, staring down at the tiny, slick bundle now being lifted carefully by Beth, who was staring at the tiny infant in disbelief.

“She’s here,” Beth whispered, “It’s a little girl.”

“We need to wrap her in something,” Rose stated, firmly.

Leah yanked her training jumper over her head without thinking and shoved it into Rose’s hands, “Here, take it!”

Wrapped in the oversized Arsenal training jumper, the tiny baby was passed gently into Leah’s waiting arms.

You collapsed fully against her, sobbing, shaking and barely able to process anything at all.

“It’s okay, my girl. It’s okay. You did it,” Leah whispered, voice thick with tears as she held both you and your baby, one in each arm, “She’s here, she’s tiny but she’s perfect.”

“It’s… It’s a girl?” You peered to look at the tiny baby in Leah’s arms.

But you didn’t feel anything—there was just emptiness.

There was no loving connection. You didn’t want to be near her.

“Yeah,” Leah murmured, staring at the newborn, “You’re okay. She’s okay. You both made it. Do you want to hold her?”

“N… No,” You stammered, you didn’t want to hold her, you didn’t even want her, “N… No. I don’t want to!”

“Monkey, come on, she’s… she’s your baby. Look at her, she’s so tiny, and I reckon she even has your nose,” Leah said, lovingly gazing down at the small baby in her arms, “She wants her Mummy.”

“N… No! I don’t want her!” You insisted, trying to shove the innocent baby away, “She’s… She’s not mine. Get her away!”

“Sweetheart,” Leah tried, adjusting her hold on the tiny infant, “Just try—”

“No, no! I don’t wanna!” You shouted with the rest of the energy that you had left, “I don’t want to hold the stupid baby. She’s… She’s not mine! I don’t want her!”

“Okay, alright,” Leah was quick to agree, gently moving the newborn to her other arm, “It’s alright, I know it’s hard but it’ll get easier…”

“No! You… You don’t get it. I don’t want her,” You fought the urge to literally push the baby in Leah’s arms away, “She’s not mine!”

“Monkey—”

And then just as Leah went to speak, the ambulance crew burst through the doors behind Kyra, breathless and panicked.

Leah looked up, still holding you and your daughter close, “You’re late.”

“C’mere, yer tiny terrors!” Katie’s voice echoed through the corridors, chasing after Buddy and Rory, who were sprinting ahead, giggling mischievously—Buddy’s hands were smeared with chocolate, no thanks to Katie herself, “Come ‘ere before yer get it all over the place!”

“Nooo, Auntie Katie!” Buddy squealed,  running as fast as her little legs could carry her, “Nooo! ‘Top it! ‘Ou can’ catch me!”

“Oh yeah? I’m gonna get yer!” Katie grinned, lunging and scooping her up, “Gotcha!”

“No, no, down, now!” Buddy thrashed in Katie’s arms, “I go down, p’ease!”

Katie chuckled, shaking her head, “I don’t think so, yer all sticky and covered in chocolate, madam,” She said, tickling the 3-year-old under her armpits, “We gotta wash yer hands before yer get it all on the walls, and then yer Mammy might be annoyed with me, won’t she?”

“I don’t have chocolate on my fingers, Auntie Katie!” Rory insisted, showing Katie her clean fingers, “I wiped it all off!”

“Good girl, Roo!” Katie leaned forward to exchange a high-five with the 5-year-old, “Right, wriggle monster, we’re gonna wash yer hands now before we have the place lookin’ like Willy Wonka’s factory has exploded!”

“It ‘ummy do!” Buddy defended, cheekily as she continued to thrash in Katie’s arms, “Where’ Mummy? I no see ‘er!” 

“I don’t know, Bud, but I’m sure we can find her afterwards,” Katie reasoned with the squirming toddler in her arms.

They turned a corner just as Rory pushed the door open of the toilets, “Hi, Mummy!” She said excitedly, oblivious to everyone around her.

“Hi, Munchkin,” Beth’s voice was strained, high-pitched like she wasn’t quite sure how to react to anything anymore, “Are you being good?”

“Yup!” Rory grinned, holding the door open, “What’re you doing on the floor, Mummy?”

Katie came behind her while still holding Buddy on her hip, “Right, yer little terror, let’s get you cleaned up. We gotta wash yer hands, and make sure all the chocolate is gone—”

The Irish woman stopped mid-step, as her eyes swept the room.

Katie noted the way that you were curled up against Leah, who was sitting awkwardly with one arm wrapped around you protectively. Paramedics were crowding them in the background, one of them crouched beside your legs. Beth was perched on the edge of the counter, pale as anything and staring like she had seen a ghost. Rose was talking rapidly on her phone, meanwhile Steph, Alessia and Kyra were scattered in the cramped space.

“What the fu… fudge happened in ‘ere?” Katie asked with wide eyes, adjusting Buddy on her hip, quick to correct herself with the two young girls around her.

No one answered immediately.

Then there was a wail.

A sharp, high-pitched sound of a newborn cry split through the room like a siren.

“Whoa!” Buddy gasped, her little eyes going as wide as saucers as she tried to twist in Katie’s arms, “Der’s a baby! Who baby dat?”

Katie’s eyes widened even more, “Is that…?”

“Der’s a baby!” Buddy repeated, half-excited and half-curious as she tried to wriggle to get out of Katie’s grasp, “I go down, Auntie Katie! Down, now!”

Rory peeked curiously around Katie’s frame, “Who delivered it? The postman?”

“Down, Auntie Katie!” Buddy protested, squirming in Katie’s arms and curious to take a closer look at the newborn in Leah’s arms.

“Right, we have to wash yer hands first, so yer don’t end up touching the baby with chocolate-covered fingers,” Katie carried Buddy over to the sink, resting her on the counter beside Beth, who still looked shell-shocked, staring at the baby girl bundled in the Arsenal training jumper.

“I wan’ say ‘ello to da baby!” Buddy tried to make a break for it.

Katie turned on the tap and adjusted the temperature before grabbing some soap, “Alright, yer little chocolate monster, hands out.”

Buddy reluctantly let out a huff but complied, putting her hands under the water while kicking her little legs against the counter beneath her, “I wan’ see da baby!” She whined, craning her neck to get a better look.

“Yeah, I know yer do, but yer can’t do that with sticky fingers, Tiny,” Katie reminded her, gently scrubbing at her fingers, “That’s a rule.”

“It good chocolate, do!” Buddy protested dramatically, wriggling in place, “I go down now!”

“I know, I know,” Katie chuckled, reaching over to grab a paper towel to dry Buddy’s little hands, “There we go, all clean and dry. Now yer can get down, little miss.”

“Mummy!” Buddy squealed, toddling towards Leah and the newborn baby, “Who dat?”

“hI, Bubba,” Leah greeted the 3-year-old with a kind smile, just as Buddy immediately reached out to touch the baby, “Ah, ah, no… Gentle, Buddy—”

It was too late.

Buddy reached out with curious fingers as the newborn baby stirred, scrunching her tiny face up and letting out the softest, sleepiest little grunt.

“... We have to use gentle hands, remember, Bubba?” Leah reminded the curious toddler, “She’s only tiny, so we have to be really careful.”

“Alright,” One of the paramedics stood up and gently cleared their throat, stepping forward, “I think we need to get both mum and baby checked out properly at the hospital.”

You stiffened in Leah’s arms. You didn’t want to to hospital—You didn’t even want the baby.

You weren’t a Mum. You couldn’t be. Not really. Not like this.

“M’... M’ not goin’ to the hospital,” You mumbled, anxiously, “I… I don’t wanna!”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Leah tightened her grip around your shoulder and gave you a small squeeze, “I’m going to come with you both. You’re going to be fine. You just need to get checked out and make sure that nothing is seriously wrong with either you or the baby.”

You couldn’t stand to look at the baby in Leah’s arms. 

There was so many different emotions going through you right now—But you knew one thing though.

You didn’t want her.

“Isn’t she lovely… Isn’t she wonderful… Isn’t she precious, ” Leah softly sang the lyrics, “Less than a minute old,” She continued, gazing down at the newborn bundle now wrapped in a soft pink blanket with loving eyes.

Leah sat on the hospital room’s windowsill, gently swaying the newest addition in her arms—the baby now dressed in a white babygrow with a hat to match, it was something that Katie had raced down to the hospital gift shop and found at the last minute. She was peaceful now, her little mouth working around nothing in her sleep with one tiny fist curled against her cheek.

Leah couldn’t take her eyes off her, “She’s healthy, my girl,” She said softly, not looking up, “Weighs six pounds, three ounces. She’s perfect… She’s tiny, but she’s perfect just the same.” Her voice cracked just a little as she looked down at the baby, using her thumb to lightly brush over the faintest whisp of hair.

You were lying in the hospital bed with your back turned, trying to block Leah out, to feel like any… none of this was happening.

“She’s adorable, Monkey,” Leah tried, keeping her tone of voice soft and gentle, “Do you want to hold her?”

You didn’t move—You didn’t answer.

“You could just hold her for a second? I bet she’d love a little cuddle from her mum, not from me,” Leah was determined to not give up, “You just… You just need to try, my girl.”

“I don’t want her,” You mumbled, the words escaping your mouth before you could even think, “Keep her away from me.”

Leah blinked in confusion, “What?” Her voice went quieter, her arms still bouncing the small baby as she stirred against her shoulder, “You… You mean you want to give her up?”

“No,” You turned around to face her, eyes wide and red-rimmed from crying, “I… I don’t know… I don’t mean that, I just…” You were fumbling with your words, “I don’t want her. She’s not mine, Mum. I… I didn’t even know—”

“Then, what do you want to do?” Leah stared at you, thrown completely, “You’re her mum.”

“I… I don’t know, mum,” You broke down into tears all over again, “I… I don’t feel anything for her.”

“Sure, you might not feel like that now. But she’s yours, sweetheart. You know, I know it might come as a shock, and none of us were prepared for this, but… she’s your baby.”

“N… No, she’s not. I don’t want her! I… I don’t feel like she’s mine.I don’t want to hold her, I don’t want to look at her—She’s not mine!”

“Monkey—”

“Beth phoned and wanted to let yer know Buddy’s okay. She’s currently on the sofa and eatin’ pizza as we speak,” Katie chuckled, walking inside the hospital room with takeaway coffee cups in hand, placing on down on the small table, “She’s full of questions for yer, though.”

“Yeah, that’s to be expected. I thought it was easier to leave her with Beth, and not my mum, or any family fo that matter. It would only cause them to ask questions, and that’s something I don’t think none of us are quite ready for yet,” Leah murmured, peering down at the newborn in her arms with the answer to her question still on her mind, “There’s a lot of questions I think we all want to know.”

“Have you spoken to Jord yet?��� Katie wondered, slumping down on the spare chair in the room, “I think she deserves to know what has happened.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I know, you’re right, and I will,” Leah explained as she continued to rock the baby, “I’ve just…  I’ve been trying to figure out what to tell her, and when it’s the right time, but everything is so up in the air, right now.”

“I can stay with Monkey, if you want to go outside and make the call?” Katie offered, kindly.

“Are you sure?” Leah took a hesitant glance towards you, reluctant to leave you straight away in the condition you’re in.

“Course not,” Katie shifted from the chair to perch on the end of the hospital bed, “Yer go and make that phone call. I’ll stay with Monkey.”

Leah stood slowly while still swaying slightly as she moved with the baby, her hand instinctively cupping the tiny head beneath the white cotton hat. The newborn gave a soft, sleepy grunt, one of those strange little newborn noises that they make.

“You’re okay, angel,” Leah smiled faintly, brushing a kiss to her forehead before gazing in your direction—You were curled up on your side, back to the rest of the room with your arms wrapped around your middle,  “I shouldn’t be too long. Just… Keep an eye on her, yeah?”

Katie gave an affirmative nod in agreement, “We’ll be alright. The two of us, won’t we, little lady?”

You didn’t respond—You didn’t want to talk about things.

“I’ll step outside with the baby,” Leah said softly, reaching into her pocket to pull her phone out, “I shouldn’t be too long.”

“Okay,” Katie agreed, turning her full attention to you, “C’mere, little lady.Yer’ve been through a lot today, haven’t yer?”

Leah slipped out of the hospital room, shutting the door quietly behind her. The hallway was quiet, other than the nurses bustling around the room in the middle of the day, as the faint smell of hospital sanitiser lingered in the air.

“Let’s take a seat out here, yeah?” Leah cooed, gazing down at the tiny bundle in her arms—the newborn stirred again, letting out a high-pitched squeak as Leah bounced her gently, “Ooh, that’s better isn’t it, angel? You know, you’ve been born into chaos, but I promise that everyone is going to love you, regardless. And you have such a big family that is filled with nothing but love.”

Using her free hand to dial Jordan’s number, Leah balanced her phone between her ear and shoulder as she let it ring and awaited an answer on the other end.

“We’re about to give your other Nanny a huge shock, as well,” Leah murmured, each ring of the phone making her stomach twist, “C’mon, Jord. Pick up, pick up. Pick up the phone. This is important.”

Back inside the hospital room, Katie was trying to coax you into talking to her, “Come on, Monkey. Talk to me,” Katie looked at you in concern, reluctant to speak anytime soon, “I know yer feelin’ all distant and things about this. But it’s not good to bottle things up…”

You finally broke, turning around to face Katie with tear-stained cheeks, “I… I don’t want her, Auntie Katie.”

“Oh, little lady. C’mere,” Katie moved to be by your side, wrapping her arms protectively around you, “I know today’s been a lot, but yer don’t want to be makin’ rush decisions like that.”

“No, no, you don’t get it. None of you do. I don’t want her,” You repeated, your voice shaking now, “I don’t feel anything for her. It’s like.. It’s like she’s just someone else’s baby, not mine. I don’t want her.”

Katie didn’t argue; she just held you tightly and nodded slowly.

“That’s okay,” Katie murmured gently, “It’s okay to feel like that, though. It doesn’t make yer a bad person for having them thoughts.”

“She’s not… She’s not mine,” You whispered, curling in on yourself, “And I don’t want her to be.”

The phone clicked—Jordan answered on the other end.

“Le?” Jordan’s voice came through, casual and sounding like she wasn’t expecting this news, “You alright?”

Leah took a slow breath and adjusted the newborn baby in her arms again, just as she let out another soft grunt and stretched her tiny legs inside the babygrow

“Hey,” Leah said quietly, “I… There’s something I need to tell you. And I need you to just… listen, okay?”

“What?!! What… What is it?” Jordan asked, instantly panicked, “Has something happened to one of the girls?”

“They’re both fine, calm down, they’re okay…” Leah murmured, trying to keep her voice steady as she gently swayed, the baby nestled against her chest, “I think this is better explained in person, alright? But… Just please remember to keep an open-mind about things.”

“The hospital?” Jordan was immediately alarmed, “I… I thought you said both of the girls are okay—what do I need to come there for?”

Leah raked her hand through her hair, "Just... Look, Jord. I know it sounds worrying and it's difficult to understand, but I really think this conversation is better off said in person."

"Fine," Jordan exhaled a sigh on the other end of the phone, "Alright, I can be there in twenty minutes. Do you need to bring anything?"

"Yeah, that would be helpful," Leah agreed, "I'll send a list over."

"Okay. I'll grab what's needed and head to the hospital," Jordan said, already sounding like she was rushing around her flat.

"Just..." Leah continued, her voice wavering, "No asking questions, and no freaking out. Not until you're here, and then I can explain, yeah?"

"... Fine," Jordan reluctantly agreed, although Leah could tell she wanted to ask further questions.

"Good, alright," Leah took a moment to pause, "I'll see you when you arrive. Katie's here with me, so I'l send her out to find you." She hung up on the phone with a soft sigh, tucking it back into her pocket as she glanced down at the baby who had drifted back to sleep, “You really do know how to shake things up, don’t you?” She murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead.

The baby didn't stir at all, just remained safely asleep in the grasp of Leah's embrace, “Let’s go back inside and wait for your other Nanny, eh?”

Stepping back inside the hospital room, the door clicked shut behind her as you sat hunched on the bed with Katie beside you, wrapping a tight arm around you with a shoulder to cry on.

“Look, here’s yer Ma,” Katie softly said, turning to notice Leah walk back inside with the tiny newborn in her arms, “I bet yer could do with a big cuddle from her right now, couldn’t yer?”

You tensed in Katie’s embrace. Leah crossed over without hesitation, cradling your baby protectively, but her eyes were on you.

“Hey, my girl,” Leah shifted the baby girl in her arm as she carefully sat on the edge of the bed, “How’re you doin’? I‘ve just been on the phone with your Mama. She’s on her way now.”

“Y… You told her?” You stammered, turning to look at her in shock with red-rimmed eyes, “What did you say?”

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s okay. I haven’t told her anything yet,” Leah reassured, noting the worry in your facial expression, “I’ve only asked her to come to the hospital, because I think this conversation is best had in person, sweetheart.”

“Do you think… Do you think she’ll be mad when she finds out?” You questioned, fumbling with your hands, “I… I don’t want her to hate me, Mum.”

“Oh, baby,” Leah whispered, curling her arm around your back while your baby shifted slightly in her other arm, “Why would she be mad? I think if anything she’ll just be shocked. But we’re both going to support you. She loves you. We both do. Nothing is going to change that.”

You leaned into her automatically, pressing your forehead against Leah’s hoodie but your eyes kept darting to the tiny baby in her arms. The baby wriggled and let out a soft cry in Leah’s arms, and you flinched.

And then, without even thinking about it, you tried to shove the baby away from Leah’s chest, “I want a cuddle,” You mumbled, frustrated, “Not her. I… I don’t want her near me.”

Leah flinched at the movement, holding your baby tighter for a moment, but Katie reached faster.

“Here,” Katie said quickly, standing up and stepping forwards, her arms outstretched, “I’ll take her for a bit. ‘Bout time I had a cuddle with my new little niece.”

“Thanks, Katie,” Leah shared a grateful look with and passed the newborn over to her, “Come here, you. You just need your Mum to yourself, eh?

Leah barely finished wrapping her arms tight around you before you spoke up, “I…I don’t want her,” You told her, your words were muffled by her hoodie, “I don’t want her, Mum.”

Leah stilled, “What… What are you saying right now, sweetheart?”

“I don’t want her,” You repeated, a bit more firmer this time around. You sat up straighter, pushing away from Leah and glaring at the baby, “I don’t want her, I… I don’t want to look at her. I don’t want her anywhere near me. She… She’s not mine.”

“Monkey…” Leah’s voice was careful and steady, even as her heart dropped, “You don’t mean that, sweetheart. This little baby girl… she’s yours. She’s your flesh and blood. I know everything has come as a shock today, and it’s all been a bit chaotic, but you don’t really mean that, do you? Things will calm down, you’ll get used to it…”

“I don’t care,” You snapped quickly, jaw tight and refusing to look at the tiny bundle now cooing softly in Katie’s arms, “I don’t want her.”

Katie looked up with a furrowed brow, adjusting the baby more securely in her arms, “Hey, little lady. Yer shouldn’t make such a rush decision in this state. It’s been a long day, but look at her, she’s perfect, just like her Mammy.”

“I hate her,” You spat, shoulders trembling, “I hate her. I don’t want her near me.”

“What… What are you saying? You want… “ Leah swallowed the lump in her throat, “You want to put her up for adoption?”

You didn’t respond, you just stared at the floor in front of you.

Leah wasn’t quite done with speaking her mind, “Monkey… if you do that, then she’ll go to people she doesn’t know. Is that really what you want?”

You hesitated, only for a single second, but it was enough, “I… I don’t care,” You muttered, “I just… I don’t want her.”

The silence was thick in the air and the tension could be cut with a knife.

Katie remained to gently bounce your baby in her arms and whisper soothing words to her, but her eyes were flickering warily between you and Leah.

“Listen, my girl,” Leah kept her voice steady as her grip tightened around you, “I know you’re in a bit of shock right now, I mean… It’s been a huge day, and a lot has happened. You’ve just had a baby, you didn’t expect it and you’re scared. But look at that little girl, she’s innocent in all of this… You know she didn’t ask for any of this, Monkey. And right now, I bet that all she wants is her Mummy.”

“I’m not her mum,” You muttered bitterly.

“She is yours, though,” Leah said gently, “She’s your own flesh and blood. Regardless of what you might think right now.”

You shook your head violently in disagreement, “No. No, I don’t… I don’t want her! You don’t get it, Mum! She’s… When I look at her, I don’t… I don’t see her as anything—I don’t see the love I should have for her. I don’t feel anything for her—”

You were cut off by the high-pitched wail from your baby in Katie’s arms, “I think someone wants in on the attention, eh?” She teased.

“I… I don’t want her to be adopted by strangers,” You muttered, pausing to take a breath, “I don’t want to raise her either.”

Leah’s breath caught in her throat, “What… What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” You looked at her, eyes red and puffy while your jaw was clenched, “I think that if anyone was to raise her then I want it to be you and Mama. She deserves to be with two people that will love her, just… just as much as you love me, and Buddy.”

“But… It’s not that simple, my girl,” Leah admitted, confused, “Me and your Mama, we’re not together anymore. We haven’t been for a long time. It’s just not that easy to say you want us to adopt and raise her. It’s… It’s going to be more complicated than just that.”

“Please, Mum,” You pleaded, “I can’t… At least this way I know she’ll be in good hands. Please, just think about it.”

Leah blinked hard, her throat tightened at the weight of your words, “I’ll talk to your Mama about this and see what she says. But this is a lot to think about, Monkey. This isn’t a decision that we can just rush into making.”

Down at the other end of the maternity ward, Jordan had arrived and stepped through the door with a car seat clutched awkwardly in one hand and her phone in the other, sending a quick text  to Leah to let her know she’d arrived.

There was nothing more other than complete confusion written over her face as she scanned the area and tried to make sense of things.

“Ah, mate, yer here!” Katie jogged lightly over to Jordan and exchanged a brief hug with her best friend, “Guessin’ yer a bit confused about all this, eh?”

“Just  a bit,” Jordan murmured, eyes flickering between Katie and the ward, “What the hell is going on? Leah just said to keep an open mind, but what the hell… What’s happened?”

Katie held up a hand to stop on the onslaught, “Breathe, mate. Everything is fine. It’s just better if Leah explained things. It’s not my place.”

“Everything is fine?” Jordan raised an eyebrow, impatient and clearly unconvinced, “You’re meeting me outside of a hospital ward, Leah asked me to bring a car seat and I’m supposed to act normal?”

“It’s… It’s alright,” Katie cracked a smile and gestured to the door behind her, “Trust me… This one’s better explained in person by the right person. Let’s just go through here, yeah?”

Jordan squinted at her, keeping her jaw tight but eventually, she gave a sharp nod, “Fine, alright. But this had better not be a prank or something. It’s a bit late for April’s fools day now.”

“It’s not a prank,” Katie confirmed, voice quieter now as she held the door open and nodded towards the corridor inside, “Come on.”

Together, the two of them walked the length of the long hall as Jordan grew further on edge with every next step that she took.

Katie stopped at one of the rooms and knocked gently before opening it.

Jordan stepped inside, and immediately froze.

“Hey, Jord,” Leah was the first to break the silence from where she sat in a chair next to the hospital bed, peacefully feeding a tiny newborn—your newborn baby girl while you had eventually fallen asleep, exhausted from the day you’d had.

“What… the fuck?” Jordan whispered.

Leah exhaled a deep sigh, “Just… Keep an open mind, alright?”

Jordan didn’t move as she kept her eyes locked on the baby in Leah’s arms. Her brain was scrambling to fill in the gaps, but nothing was making sense, “Is that… Did you… What?” She eventually finished on.

Katie gently stepped in, taking the baby from Leah with a sense of practiced ease to take over feeding her, giving Leah and Jordan the proper chance to talk.

“Come on, let’s go outside and talk about this,” Leah stood up slowly from the chair, approaching Jordan as she placed a hand on her arm, “I don’t want to wake Monkey up. She’s not long fallen asleep.”

Still stunned, Jordan reluctantly followed her ex-girlfriend out into the corridor.

“What the fuck, Leah?” Jordan hissed, her eyes wide as saucers, “What the… How did… I don’t get it? Monkey was pregnant? And you didn’t even think to tell me about it!”

“Would you calm down and let me explain, first please, and not just jump straight to conclusions?” Leah leaned against the wall, arms crossed as her heart raced, “There’s an explanation for this, Jord.”

“Oh yeah, this ought to be good…” Jordan mumbled, reluctant to be convinced, arms crossed over her chest, “Well go on then. I’m waiting to hear it.”

“Nobody knew Monkey was pregnant, Jord,” Leah admitted, raking a hand through her hair, “Not even herself, she thought it was just bad period cramps.”

Jordan snorted, “Oh course like anybody is going to believe that.”

“I’m being serious, Jordan! “ Leah hissed, trying to not cause a scene, “Monkey really didn’t know, nobody did… not until she was in the training ground toilets giving birth.”

“What the…” Jordan was left flabbergasted, “She was pregnant? All of this time, and none of us knew?”

“Yep… I don’t know how she didn’t know, I don’t know how none of us even realised she could be,” Leah mumbled.

Jordan pressed a hand to her forehead, pacing in a tight circle, “Jesus Christ.”

“She was in shock. She still is,” Leah continued, “And… And that’s not everything. She doesn’t want to keep the baby. But she doesn’t want her adopted by strangers either.”

“What?” Jordan stopped pacing, blinking slowly, “So what does that mean?”

“Well…” Leah hesitated, looking at her ex-girlfriend in the eyes, “She wants us to raise her. You and me.”

“What? That… That couldn’t work,” Jordan blurted, starting, “Leah, me and you… We’re not even together anymore.”

“I know,” Leah said quickly, “And I did tell her that. But she wants us to raise her. She wants us to raise this baby like how we have raised her, and how we are raising Buddy. That’s all she cares about.”

Jordan looked like she was ready to protest, but she took one glance through the window and saw the tiny newborn in Katie’s arms, “I… I don’t know.”

“Do you want to come and meet her?” Leah offered, reaching for the door and opening it enough to just see inside where Katie was still feeding her, rocking to her gently, “You could hold her?”

“... Okay,” Jordan stepped closer as her breath caught, “She’s tiny.”

“Yeah,” Leah murmured, stepping in the door behind her, “She weighs six pounds and three ounces. But she’s strong. Just like our girl is.”

Jordan swallowed hard and stepped further into the room as her eyes never left the baby. She stood directly in front of Katie, “Can I?” She motioned to the baby with soft adoration in her eyes.

“Here we go, little ‘un. Yer ‘bout to meet another face,” Katie cooed, gently handing the baby to her.

“Hi, little ‘un. You’re tiny, aren’t you? But you’re so… perfect,” Jordan whispered, gently rocking the baby in her arms, “I bet you gave everyone a shock today, didn’t you?”

“She certainly did,” Katie chimed in, amusedly.

“She’s so precious,” Jordan whispered, not taking her eyes off the newborn, who wriggled once, then settled, and the woman blinked fast, lips parting with awe, “Okay… Okay, I’m on board with it.”

“Really?” Leah smiled, a genuine one this time, warm and soft, “You know… She still need a name. Have you got any thoughts?”

Jordan looked down again at the baby, “I didn’t really plan to be thinking about this again,” She joked, looking at her ex, “How about you?”

“Posie,” Leah took a step closer, brushing a gentle hand over the baby’s cheek, “Posie-Jean, after Monkey’’s grandma. A strong woman if there ever was.”

“I like it,” Jordan agreed, smiling, “How about… Berny for a middle name? After your grandma? This little girl deserves to be named after someone meaningful. I know how close you are with your grandma.”

Leah’s eyes filled with tears that she didn’t blink away, “Perfect, for a perfect little girl.”

“Posie-Jean Berny Williamson-Nobbs,” Katie joined the conversation, sharing a kind smile, “I think it suits her.”

“Welcome to the world, Posie-Jean,” Jordan cooed, pressing a light kiss to the top of the baby’s forehead, “You’ve certainly come as a surprise, but you’re going to be surrounded with nothing but love and support, and you’ll have a big sister that is absolutely going to love you when she meets you properly.”

© scribblesofagoonerr

If you like this then please leave you support and leave me a tip 🫶🏼

[ethereal-moonglitter]

Pouty Nagi

Nagi Seishiro x gn reader

Word count: 1.2k

Pouty nagi won the poll! Feedback is greatly appreciated since this is my first time writing for Blue lock. Also ifk what happened the drabble became a oneshot

"Uhhh.... Sei, sweetheart, what are you doing?"

You look down at your lap to see your boyfriend, Nagi Seishiro. His head was on your knee as his hands rested on your thigh. He looked at you silently for a while. He looked like a puppy begging for attention as he was positioned like this. "You've been working on that for hours now," He said, pouting, his voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. He shifted his position, his hands now resting under his chin, and his gaze fixed on you with a little more insistence. "Look at me," he murmured, almost whining.

That elicited a soft laugh from you. You couldn’t help it, he was adorable. "I'm looking at you."

He huffed at your response, a little more irritated than before, and gently smacked your thigh. It wasn’t hard, but there was an edge to it. Clearly, he didn’t appreciate your witty reply. "Don’t act coy. You know what I mean," he muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly. His voice had that familiar mix of annoyance and sulkiness, a tone that was so uniquely his.

You merely rolled your eyes and patted his head, which seemed to placate him temporarily. Your hands comb through his hair rhythmically. He closed his eyes as you scratched his scalp. And he practically melted at your touch, his body going slack in contentment. His bliss didn’t last long, though. As soon as your hand slowly stopped, he opened his eyes again, staring at you blankly for a while.

With a little sigh, he shifted his approach. He sat beside you, the smallest bit of space left between the two of you, just in case you didn’t want it. He looked at you longingly, his pout still evident on his face. He wasn’t quite touching you, but the way his gaze lingered on you clearly said it all—pay attention to me.

And still, nothing.

He sighed louder this time, leaning back on the couch in a mockingly dramatic way, like you were making him work for this attention. He started watching what you were doing, but his eyes drifted away after a while. You were so boring for focusing on that instead of him. Eventually, he shifted again, this time lying his head on your shoulder with a deep sigh. His weight was heavier now, but his touch was light, barely there. It was like he was testing you.

You could feel the irritation building in him, his frustration palpable. He wanted your attention, and you were taking too long. He tilted his head, chin resting on your shoulder now. As he yawned, his arms stretched lazily, and his fingers brushed against your arm. A subtle attempt at a touch. Then, his hand found its way to your side, his fingers grazing just lightly, the touch unmistakably trying to get your attention.

You immediately knew what he was doing, but instead of responding, you decided to keep working, dragging out the moment a little longer.

His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Why aren’t you giving him the attention he deserves? You’d acknowledged his existence! It wasn’t fair. His nose scrunched up slightly, clearly frustrated with the fact that he had to go through all these little motions for something so simple. Somthing he should always be getting—your attention.

He huffed again, louder this time, and then finally let the words slip out in a semi-irritated, semi-sarcastic tone. "You're really ignoring me now, huh?"

This definitely caught your attention. "What makes you say that?" You asked, finally taking a good look at him.

He rolled his eyes, as if the answer was obvious. "Well, you’re looking at that thing more than me, so I guess I’m not even worth looking at." He pointed to the thing you were working on. Was he jealous? Or needy? You can’t tell. Either way, you had a very pouty and sulky Nagi.

You chuckled softly. You definitely should take a break, and cuddles do seem like a great solution for the headache from working. "Alright, alright. You have my attention now," You said as you turned to wrap your arms around him.

Before you could even react, his face was already on your chest. He hastily wrapped his arms around your waist and huffed, his voice laced with a pout. "Finally, geez. It’s like I don’t even exist when you're focused on other things."

You laughed softly, but he didn’t seem to appreciate your amusement. He buried his face further into your chest, as if trying to hide his sulking expression. You could feel his breathing deepen, like he was taking in the comfort of the moment. His arms tightened slightly around your waist, and you heard the faintest whine come from him.

"You're annoying." he murmured into your shirt, his voice muffled. "You’re supposed to be paying attention to me. I hate when you get all focused on work. I mean, I'm right here." He pulled back just enough to look up at you, his eyes still a little narrowed in irritation, but there was something soft underneath it. A quiet vulnerability that you knew Nagi rarely showed. "I just want to be with you, okay?"

His tone softened, but the pout never left his lips. You ran your fingers through his hair again, and this time, he leaned into the touch, his body relaxing completely.

"I know, Sei," you whispered, feeling a sense of warmth fill you as you hugged him closer. "But you know I need to get this done. It's not because I don't want to be with you." You kissed the top of his head, your voice gentle and coaxing him to calm down.

He huffed, but it was lighter this time, a trace of his usual playfulness returning. "I guess I’ll just have to remind you which is more important?" He lifted his head just enough to look you in the eye, his gaze mischievous, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I won’t let you get away with this for long."

You couldn’t help but smile at his determination, even though you knew he was being a little dramatic. "Okay, okay, you win," you said with a sigh, half-exasperated, half-amused. You moved whatever it was you were working on to another table. It was hard to deny him. "You have my full attention now, love, Happy?"

He nodded sagely, a grin finally spreading across his face. "Very," he said with an exaggerated sigh of relief, like he’d just won a battle. His arms tightened again around you, and this time you didn’t mind, letting him pull you closer.

For a few moments, you both just stayed there in the quiet, your fingers absently running through his hair while his face was tucked into your chest. You could feel him relax more with each passing second, the tension from before slowly melting away.

But of course, Nagi wasn’t going to stay still for long.

"Now that I have you," he murmured, shifting a little so his face was nestled against your neck. "Can we do something more fun? You know... like a movie or something?" He yawned dramatically, clearly wanting to shift your focus elsewhere. A slight mischievous appeared on his face. "I’ve been a good boy now, so I deserve it, right?"

You chuckled, already knowing what was coming. "Fine, fine, you’ve earned it."

"Finally," he said with a satisfied grin, closing his eyes as he let his weight fall more comfortably against you. "I knew you'd see it my way."

It was hard not to indulge him when he was so persistent and so utterly adorable in his own, Nagi-like way.

[solsticehymns]

walk me home?— campus part 2

james potter x shy!f!reader / college au / fluff / first date

summary: James has escalated his pursuit of you, including waiting outside your classes every day this week and cornering you for coffee. You're not too bothered.

a/n: i just have to preface this by telling everyone: sadly this is not the american college experience at all. i did a coffee date w some dude on campus before and it was insanely awkward idk why people say it's a good idea i felt trapped like fight or flight. not with james hehehe <3 enjoyy!! love, sunny ☀️🌻

wc: 1453

Somehow—against all odds, logic, and personal preference—you've acquired a persistent shadow. A tall, perpetually disheveled, insufferably charming shadow who, in just one week, has embedded himself so thoroughly into your routine that you're starting to suspect he’s memorized your class schedule.

You're barely a few steps out of class when James Potter materializes beside you, falling into step as if he’s been waiting all day for this exact moment.

"James," you say, shaking your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

"What? Not even a hello?" he asks, feigning offense, hand pressed dramatically to his chest.

You lower your gaze slightly, feeling the warmth creep up your neck already. "Hello, James."

His grin stretches wider, as though you've just given him a rare prize. "See? That wasn’t so difficult. Now, let’s talk business."

You glance at him warily. "Business?"

James gestures broadly. "Your schedule is looking suspiciously empty. It’s Friday. No more classes. Which means, by my calculations, you have exactly zero valid reasons not to come get coffee with me."

You open your mouth to argue, but James is already steamrolling ahead. "Now, before you refuse—consider the benefits. Free caffeine. Excellent company. Life-changing conversation."

You shift on your feet, suppressing the small smile threatening to form. "Life-changing?"

James nods solemnly. "I have testimonials."

You exhale a quiet laugh, looking away. His eyes gleam at the sight of your amusement.

"There it is," he murmurs, triumphant. "You like me."

Your head snaps up. "I do not."

"Oh, but you do," he counters smoothly, tilting his head. "You're trying so hard not to smile. It’s adorable."

You fold your arms, stubbornly attempting composure. "I haven’t agreed to anything."

James raises his hands in mock surrender. "Wouldn’t dream of forcing you, love. Just… strongly encouraging."

You glance at him, then at the path ahead, then back at him. He’s waiting, hopeful, expectant.

And maybe—just maybe—you don’t mind as much as you did last week. It’s a strange feeling, letting someone like James Potter weave himself so effortlessly into your routine. He’s overwhelming, yes, but he’s also… fun. And it’s been a while since you let yourself have fun.

"Fine," you sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "One coffee."

James beams. "Ah, sweet victory. Off we go, then."

The coffee shop hums with soft chatter, the hiss of the espresso machine blending with the murmur of conversation. The air smells of roasted coffee beans and warm vanilla, and the lighting is just dim enough to feel cozy. James, unsurprisingly, does not do things halfway.

Before you can even reach for your wallet, he’s already ordering—for you.

And not just anything. Your order. Exactly right.

Your lips part slightly in surprise. "How did you—?"

James waves a hand. "Lucky guess."

You narrow your eyes at him, but there's no real suspicion—just a quiet, fluttery sensation unfurling in your chest, something light and impossible to ignore, like the first pull of a current beneath still water.

James grins, clearly pleased with himself, handing the barista some cash before you can protest. "See? This is why you keep me around. I'm thoughtful."

"You're relentless."

"That's a secondary bonus."

You both settle into a small corner table, the wooden surface slightly worn beneath your fingers. James stretches his arms behind his head, impossibly at ease, like he belongs here, like he belongs anywhere. Then, with a wicked grin that does very little to put you at ease, he leans forward, eyes gleaming.

"All right, now’s the perfect time to tell me your entire life story. All your deepest fears, secrets, insecurities. Lay ‘em on me."

You let out a quiet laugh, stirring your drink. "That’s a lot of pressure for coffee conversation."

James nods, unbothered. "I believe in efficiency."

You shake your head, the smile still playing at your lips. "I think I’ll stick to the basics."

"Fine, fine. I'll lower my expectations." He rests his chin on his hand, watching you with an exaggerated intensity. "Start with your major."

You tell him what you study.

James blinks. Then, as if processing, his mouth falls slightly open. "Wow." His tone isn’t teasing—it’s genuine, almost reverent, like he’s truly impressed.

You frown slightly. "What?"

"You're, like, way smarter than me."

You let out a short, surprised laugh. "I doubt that."

James shakes his head, pointing at you as if making a grand declaration. "No, no, no. See, I do… numbers and spreadsheets and networking. But you? You actually know things. Like, real, impressive things. I'm a fool in comparison."

You feel the warmth creep up your neck, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I think you're being dramatic."

"I think you're underestimating how impressed I am right now."

You roll your eyes, but it's hopeless—James is grinning at you like he's already won. And, honestly? You can’t remember a conversation ever flowing this easily, a date—if you can call it that—ever feeling this natural. You don’t really mind at all.

James leans in slightly, studying you, then smirks like he’s thought of something brilliant. "You know, I think this is fate. You feel these sparks too, right? Might as well start brainstorming names for our firstborn."

You nearly choke on your drink. "Excuse me?"

James tilts his head, completely unfazed. "I’m just saying—planning ahead is key to a successful partnership. What do you think? Something classic? Or are we going bold?"

You stare at him for a beat, then, with a completely straight face, say, "Oh, I’ve actually thought about this. Three kids. Probably two boys first, then a girl."

It’s James’ turn to blink. "You’re joking."

You stir the ice around your drink, unbothered. "I don’t joke about the important things."

James runs a hand through his hair, looking utterly delighted. "I knew I was right about you."

You huff, shaking your head, but there’s no hiding the way your smile lingers. James watches you, a little too closely, his expression flickering just for a second—like he’s caught on something more important than just teasing you.

He huffs a laugh, drumming his fingers against the table as you take the last sip of your coffee and stand. You hesitate for just a second, your heart kicking up a beat, knowing full well what you’re about to do. But you’re enjoying this—enjoying him—far too much to stop yourself now.

Without overthinking it, you extend your hand toward him, tilting your head with an easy smile—one that feels just a little too bold but not unwelcome. "Walk me home?" you ask sweetly; the sugar rush nearly stops his heart.

James blinks, caught off guard for the briefest moment, before his entire face lights up. His grin is immediate, wide, and entirely unfiltered—like you’ve just handed him the world on a silver platter. "Oh, absolutely. Best offer I’ve had all day."

His fingers wrap around yours, warm and steady, as he rises to his feet, still beaming like an idiot.

You roll your eyes but don’t pull away as he falls into step beside you, his usual effortless confidence radiating off of him. The walk back is unhurried, the conversation dipping into easy, meaningless things—complaints about professors, half-hearted debates over the best late-night food spots, James’ ongoing theory that the campus squirrels are running some kind of underground empire.

When you finally reach your building, he rocks back on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets, watching you with something unreadable in his expression.

"So," he muses, eyes glinting mischievously, "any chance I can charm you into another date?"

You arch a brow. "Since when was this a date?"

James gasps, pressing a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. "Hey—unfair. You let me buy you coffee, we had riveting conversation, and I made you laugh at least four times."

"Three times," you correct, though you both know it was more.

He tuts, shaking his head. "Should’ve been four. I’ll have to try harder next time."

You scoff, but it’s half-hearted, the corners of your lips twitching upward. "You never actually declared it to be a date."

He leans in slightly, voice dropping into something smoother, something undeniably teasing. "I can declare the next one, if you’d like. Make it official."

Your stomach flutters, traitorous. "I’ll think about it."

James beams like that’s a victory. "I’ll take it."

He steps back, tossing you a wink as he starts down the path. "Don't miss me too much, love."

You linger at the door for just a second too long, watching him go before finally slipping inside—warm in a way that has nothing to do with the coffee.

And maybe, just maybe, already looking forward to the next time he tries to charm you into another one.

☀️🌻 masterlist

[ialreadymadeyouapromise]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏.

PAIRING: evan buckley x fem!reader WARNINGS: misunderstandings, no use of y/n GENRE: angst, fluff, idiots to lovers SONG INSPIRATION: waiting all night - ella eyre WORD COUNT: 4.4k

navigation | inbox | evan buckley masterlist

“come on, you’ll love him!” evan said, leaning forward over the table. his eyes were wide, earnest, and a little too excited for your comfort.

you shot him a skeptical look over the rim of your coffee cup, raising an eyebrow as you sipped slowly. “that’s what you said about the last guy, and he thought supernatural was a documentary.”

evan groaned, dropping his head back dramatically like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

“uh huh.” you put your mug down and crossed your arms. “i’m starting to think you’re intentionally sabotaging my social life.”

“first of all, rude.” evan leaned back, his hand running through his already tousled hair. “second, this guy is different. he’s smart. funny. likes dogs–”

“everyone likes dogs, buck,” you cut in, unimpressed.

he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table and giving you that lopsided grin that always seemed to get him out of trouble. “fair point. but he’s also a firefighter. you already have that in common. and he’s got a great sense of humor, i swear. you’re gonna hit it off. i can feel it.”

“mhm” you said, your voice flat. “because your matchmaking track record is so stellar.”

evan winced, but his grin didn’t falter. “hey, third time’s the charm, right?”

you sighed, tapping your fingers against your coffee cup as you studied his expression. he looked so hopeful, like he genuinely believed this would work. it was hard to stay mad at someone who cared so much, even if his previous attempts had been disasters. 

still, you weren’t convinced.

“why are you so determined to set me up, anyway?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. “i didn’t ask for your help, you know.”

evan hesitated, and for a moment, his usual carefree demeanor slipped. his grin faltered, and something flickered in his eyes. a vulnerability you weren’t used to seeing. it was there and gone in an instant, so quick you almost missed it, but it left you with an uneasy feeling.

“because…” he paused, looking down at his hands as he fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve. then, he met your gaze again, his expression softer than before. “i just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, tugging at something in your chest you didn’t want to acknowledge. you opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. instead, you just stared at him, the weight of his words settling between you.

when the silence stretched too long, you rolled your eyes and muttered, “fine. but if this goes south, you owe me.”

evan’s face lit up, his grin returning. “deal.” he leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. “you won’t regret this, i promise.”

“mm-hmm,” you said, picking up your coffee again. “we’ll see about that.”

the date was set for friday night at a new restaurant that everyone had been raving about. it was one of those places with dim lighting, sleek decor, and a menu filled with dishes that sounded just fancy enough to justify their price. 

you weren’t sure if it was the kind of spot you’d choose for yourself, but evan insisted it was perfect.

after a last minute call to a friend for a second opinion. you decided on a black dress that made you feel confident. it was simple yet elegant, the kind of outfit that walked the line between effort and ease. you paired it with your favorite heels, the ones that made you a little taller but didn’t leave you regretting your life choices after an hour.

a swipe of your favourite lipstick completed the look. you weren’t expecting to fall head over heels for some random guy, but you figured it couldn’t hurt to look your best.

when you arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, the air smelled like garlic, rosemary, and sizzling butter. the hostess greeted you with a polished smile and guided you to a small table near the window. you had the perfect view of the bustling street outside, where couples strolled hand in hand and taxis honked impatiently.

you glanced at your phone one last time to confirm the details. his name was alex, and according to evan, he was tall, dark haired, and charming in a low key, unpretentious way. you imagined a guy with an easy laugh, someone who could carry a conversation but didn’t dominate it. the thought calmed your nerves, at least a little.

as the minutes ticked by, you alternated between checking the door and pretending to be engrossed in the menu. you ordered a glass of wine to keep your hands busy and your mind distracted. when ten minutes passed, you told yourself he was probably stuck in traffic. fifteen minutes? maybe parking was a nightmare.

by the time twenty minutes had gone by, your confidence started to waver. you tried not to let it show, smoothing your dress and keeping your posture upright, but the excuses in your head began to sound hollow. you resisted the urge to pull out your phone, not wanting to look like someone who had been stood up.

at the thirty minute mark, the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore. your stomach twisted as the truth set in, he wasn’t coming. you stared at the candle flickering in the middle of the table, wishing it would burn down faster so you had an excuse to blow it out and leave.

heat crept up the back of your neck, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. the restaurant suddenly felt too crowded, the noise of laughter and clinking glasses grating on your nerves. you wanted to crawl under the table and never come out, or better yet, disappear entirely.

you took a sip of your wine, willing it to soothe the knot of disappointment in your chest. so much for first impressions, you thought bitterly.

you pulled out your phone, your thumb hovering over the screen as you debated what to say. frustration and embarrassment warred inside you, but ultimately, you decided there was only one person who needed to hear about this disaster.

you: your friend stood me up. this is officially the worst date of my life.

you stared at the message for a moment before hitting send, feeling both annoyed and vindicated. evan had been so insistent, so sure this guy was perfect, and now you were sitting here like an idiot with a full glass of wine and no date.

the reply came almost instantly.

buck: what??? no way.

buck: stay put. i’ll be there in 15.

you blinked at your phone, rereading the message twice to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. a mix of disbelief and relief settled over you. typical buck, always jumping in like he had to save the day. it was infuriating sometimes, but at this moment, you were just grateful you didn’t have to endure the rest of the evening alone.

the waiter arrived with your wine as you tucked your phone away, and you nodded your thanks, taking a slow sip to calm your nerves. the wine was smooth and rich, but it did little to soothe the knot of frustration in your chest. 

you glanced around the restaurant, feeling more self conscious than ever. it wasn’t like anyone here knew you’d been stood up, but the knowledge gnawed at you anyway.

exactly fifteen minutes later, the sound of the restaurant door opening pulled your attention. you looked up to see evan  walking in. he wasn’t dressed for a night out, just his usual jeans, leather jacket and a fitted shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, but somehow, his casual confidence made him stand out among the suits and dresses in the room.

he spotted you immediately, his face lighting up. with an easy stride, he wove through the tables, his hand brushing the back of a chair or two as he navigated the crowded space. when he reached your table, he slid into the seat across from you, his expression softening into one of genuine concern.

“i’m so sorry,” he said, his blue eyes searching yours. “i swear, if i see that guy again, i’m gonna–”

“buck,” you interrupted, holding up a hand to stop his rant. his protective streak was endearing, but you weren’t in the mood for it. “it’s fine. these things happen.”

his frown deepened, clearly not convinced. “no, it’s not fine. you didn’t deserve that. you deserve someone who’ll show up and actually appreciate you.”

the sincerity in his voice made your stomach flutter, the warmth of his words catching you off guard. you looked away, fiddling with the stem of your wineglass as you tried to brush off the sudden rush of feelings.

“well,” you said after a moment, glancing back at him with a small smile, “you’re here now. so, technically, you’re my date.”

his lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “guess i am. you cool with that?”

you laughed, the sound easing some of the tension lingering in your chest. “honestly? yeah. you’re already better company than that alex.”

that earned you a smile. the kind that lit up his whole face, made his eyes crinkle at the corners, and had an annoyingly infectious effect on your mood. the warmth in your chest spread further, making you feel unexpectedly… at ease.

“well, then,” he said, picking up the menu you’d been pretending to study earlier. “let’s make the most of it. i hear the steak here is incredible. you in?”

you tilted your head, watching him for a moment as he scanned the menu with genuine interest. he was so easygoing, so quick to step in and turn a bad situation into something bearable.

“yeah,” you said softly, a real smile tugging at your lips. “i’m in.”

for the first time that evening, you felt like the night might not be a total loss after all.

after finishing your meal, which had been filled with laughter and the kind of effortless banter that always seemed to flow between you and evan, the idea of sitting through dessert felt unnecessary. instead, you both decided on a walk, letting the crisp night air clear your heads after the warmth and hum of the restaurant.

the streets glowed under the soft light of streetlamps, their golden halos reflecting off the damp pavement, remnants of a brief rain earlier in the evening. the world felt quieter now, the chatter of passing strangers and the occasional honk of a car fading into the background as you and evan strolled side by side.

“sorry again about tonight,” evan said after a while, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. his tone was sincere, tinged with the kind of guilt you knew he couldn’t help but shoulder.

you glanced over at him, your heart softening despite your initial irritation. “don’t be,” you replied, your voice lighter than you felt. “i ended up with the better date anyway.”

the corners of his mouth twitched upward, a chuckle slipping from his lips. “well, you’re not wrong. i’m way more fun than alex.” his teasing tone was paired with a grin so mischievous it pulled a laugh out of you despite yourself.

“low bar,” you said, bumping his shoulder with yours as you walked.

“true,” he admitted, still smiling. but when he glanced at you, his expression softened. his gaze lingered just a moment too long, something unreadable flickering in his blue eyes before he quickly looked ahead.

you continued walking, the easy flow of conversation gradually giving way to a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but rather companionable, steeped in the kind of understanding that only came with knowing someone as deeply as you knew evan.

the city noise faded into the background, leaving just the sound of your footsteps echoing off the empty streets and the occasional rustle of a breeze weaving through the trees above. for once, neither of you seemed in a hurry to fill the quiet, content to simply exist in each other’s presence.

a sudden gust of wind swept through, carrying a sharp chill that had you instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. the brisk air bit at your skin, you shivered despite your efforts to ward it off.

evan noticed immediately. he always noticed. without missing a beat, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders in one fluid motion, the fabric still warm from his body.

“buck, i’m fine–" you started to protest, reaching up as if to push it off.

“nope,” he interrupted, his tone firm but light. his hands stayed on your shoulders for a beat longer than necessary, steadying the jacket as if daring you to argue. “you’re cold. take the jacket. end of discussion.”

the corners of your lips tugged upward, a small, soft smile breaking through. you pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, the scent of his cologne. a mix of something woodsy and clean, enveloping you. “thanks,” you said quietly, the word holding more weight than usual.

evan gave a little shrug, as if it were nothing, but his lips curved into a smile that reached his eyes. “anytime,” he replied, his voice gentle.

for a moment, you both slowed, your steps falling into sync as the night wrapped around you. the warmth of his jacket against the cool air, the steadiness of his presence beside you, it all felt oddly intimate, like you were sharing something neither of you dared to name.

“you’re too good sometimes, you know that?” you said, breaking the silence after a while. your voice was teasing, but there was an edge of sincerity to your words.

evan glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “too good? is that a bad thing?”

“not bad,” you admitted, smiling. “just… unfair to everyone else who has to live up to it.”

he laughed at that, the sound rich and easy. “well, i wouldn’t want to disappoint,” he said, his tone light, but the way his eyes lingered on you as he spoke sent a faint flutter through your chest.

you fell into another quiet moment, your steps taking you closer to home. the city seemed to fade away entirely, leaving just the two of you walking together under the glow of streetlights, the rest of the world forgotten.

when you reached your apartment, you both slowed to a stop at your door. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the street was quiet, the soft glow of a nearby lamppost casting long shadows on the pavement. you turned to face evan, the night air carrying a weight you couldn’t quite name.

“thanks for tonight,” you said softly, fiddling with the edge of his jacket. “i really mean it. you didn’t have to come rescue me.”

he shrugged, but there was a vulnerability in his expression you didn’t see often. “of course i did. i wasn’t about to let you sit there alone, thinking you weren’t worth showing up for.”

your heart stuttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. you opened your mouth to respond, but the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours, like he was seeing parts of you even you didn’t understand, stole the words from your tongue.

the silence stretched, filled with a charged tension that made your skin prickle. you could feel your heartbeat quicken, a warmth blooming in your chest that you didn’t want to name. the space between you felt impossibly small, and yet, you found yourself wanting to close it.

“evan,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” his voice was soft, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what you were about to say.

you hesitated, your breath hitching as you tried to find the right words. but there were none. not for this. so, instead of speaking, you acted. your heart was hammering so hard you were sure he could hear it as you leaned forward.

time seemed to slow as you closed the gap, the world around you fading until all you could see, all you could feel, was him. your lips were a whisper away from his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

but just as you were about to close the distance, he took a step back, his eyes widening in surprise.

“oh,” you breathed, the weight of what you’d just done crashing down on you. “oh my god. i–i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean–”

“wait–” evan started, his voice filled with panic, but the rush of humiliation already had you moving. your hands fumbled with his jacket, your fingers trembling as you shrugged it off and thrust it toward him.

“here,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. you couldn’t bear to look at him, couldn’t stand to see whatever emotion was written on his face. “thanks for… for everything. i–i’ll see you at work.”

“hang on, just let me–” he tried again, his tone urgent, but you were already turning away. your shaking hands found your keys, and you all but bolted inside, the door clicking shut behind you before he could get another word out.

the second you were safely inside, you leaned against the door, your chest heaving as you tried to calm the wave of mortification threatening to drown you. the silence of your apartment only made the memory of the last few minutes louder, every detail replaying in excruciating detail.

“what were you thinking?” you whispered to yourself, pressing the heels of your hands against your burning face. the warmth of his breath, the way he’d looked at you, the moment he’d pulled away. it all swirled in your mind, a chaotic mess of embarrassment and regret.

you slid down to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees as the weight of it all pressed down on you. you’d ruined it. whatever you and evan had, it was over now. there was no coming back from this.

and yet, as you sat there in the quiet of your apartment, part of you couldn’t help but wonder. if he’d pulled away… why had he leaned in so close in the first place?

the next morning, you woke up with a pit in your stomach, the memory of last night replaying in excruciating detail. every glance, every word, every fleeting touch seemed magnified in your mind, and no amount of tossing and turning had been able to shake the heat rising to your cheeks.

you could barely bring yourself to look in the mirror as you got ready for work.

by the time you pulled into the firehouse parking lot, you’d come up with a plan. a simple, effective strategy to survive the day. avoid evan at all costs. it wasn’t exactly foolproof, but you figured if you kept your head down and stayed busy, you could process everything later without risking further humiliation.

but as soon as you stepped inside, your plan crumbled.

evan was waiting for you.

he was leaning casually against the wall near the entrance, his arms crossed, but the second he saw you, he straightened up, stepping directly into your path before you had a chance to slip by unnoticed.

“hey,” he greeted, his tone neutral but his eyes searching your face like he was looking for answers.

your breath hitched, your carefully rehearsed avoidance strategy vanishing in an instant. “hey,” you replied, keeping your voice light and cautious, deliberately avoiding his gaze as you tried to sidestep him.

“can we talk?” evan asked, his tone softer now, almost hesitant.

the question sent a fresh wave of panic through you. you shook your head quickly, brushing past him as if escaping the conversation would erase it altogether. “there’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. “let’s just forget it happened, okay?”

evan’s brow furrowed, and you could feel his presence close behind you as you hurried toward the lockers. “no,” he said firmly, his voice low but unyielding. “i don’t want to forget it.”

his words stopped you in your tracks, the weight of them sinking in before you could take another step. your heart raced as you slowly turned to face him, your eyes wide and guarded. “what are you talking about?” you questioned him.

evan’s jaw tightened as if he were struggling to find the right words, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “last night,” he began, his voice softer now. “it wasn’t–it didn’t mean nothing to me. and i don’t think it did to you either.”

your chest tightened, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, each one more chaotic than the last. but before you could respond, a voice cut through the tension.

“buck! we need you up here, now!”

bobby's voice rang out from across the room.

evan’s head snapped toward the sound, his expression flickering with frustration as he glanced back at you. he looked torn, his eyes darting between you and the source of bobby’s call.

for a second, it seemed like he might ignore the summons entirely, but the urgency in bobby’s tone made the decision for him.

“don’t go anywhere,” evan said, pointing at you with a look so pleading it made your stomach flip. “we’re finishing this conversation.”

you didn’t answer, your throat too tight to speak as you watched him jog up the stairs. the air seemed to settle heavily around you in his absence.

this wasn’t over. not by a long shot. and judging by the look in evan’s eyes, it wasn’t something you’d be able to run from, no matter how much you tried.

you managed to avoid him for most of the day, staying busy with your own tasks and sticking close to others whenever you were in common spaces. but you couldn’t dodge him forever.

later that evening, as the firehouse settled into its quieter rhythm, evan cornered you in the kitchen while you were refilling your water bottle.

“seriously?” he said, blocking your exit with an exasperated look. “you’ve been dodging me all day.”

“i’ve been working,” you said defensively, avoiding his gaze.

“you know that’s not what i mean,” he said, his tone softening. “we need to talk about last night.”

“no, we don’t,” you said quickly, gripping the edge of the counter. “it was a mistake, buck. let’s just move on.”

his brows furrowed, and he stepped closer. “it wasn’t a mistake. not for me, at least.”

your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air.

“look,” he continued, his voice low and earnest. “i know i messed up last night. i didn’t mean to make you feel… embarrassed or rejected. i was just surprised, okay? i wasn’t expecting you to–” he stopped, running a hand through his hair. “i wasn’t expecting you to feel that way about me.”

you stared at him, your pulse pounding in your ears. “well, i don’t,” you said weakly, even though the lie sounded hollow to your own ears.

evan gave you a look. a knowing, disbelieving look that made you embarrassed. “you’re a terrible liar,” he said softly, stepping closer.

“buck, don’t–” you started, but your voice faltered when he reached out, his hand brushing yours where it rested on the counter.

“i’m not trying to make this harder,” he said, his tone gentle. “i just… i need you to know that last night wasn’t one sided. i didn’t pull away because i didn’t want to kiss you. i pulled away because i panicked. you caught me off guard.”

you blinked at him, your mind racing as you tried to process his words. “you… panicked?”

“yeah,” he said, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “i’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you how i feel for weeks, and then you just… did it. you were brave, and i froze.” he hesitated, his voice dropping lower. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. that’s the last thing i wanted.”

the honesty in his voice left you momentarily speechless.

“you really hurt me, buck,” you finally admitted, your voice shaking slightly. “you pulled away like... like i was wrong to even try.”

his face fell, and he stepped closer, “i know,” he said quietly. “i’m so sorry. you didn’t deserve that. you didn’t deserve to feel like you were wrong, because you weren’t.”

his hand finally brushed against yours, tentative but warm, and your resolve faltered.

“i don’t know if i can...” you trailed off, the words tangled in your throat.

“hey,” he said softly, dipping his head slightly to catch your gaze. “i’m not asking you to forgive me all at once. i just... i need you to know that i feel the same way. i’ve felt this way for a long time.”

the weight of his confession left you momentarily speechless. he took another small step closer.

“i should’ve told you sooner,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now. “i should’ve been braver.”

you let out a shaky breath, your walls crumbling under the warmth in his gaze. “i want to believe you,” you said softly.

“then let me show you,” he said, his tone tender but sure. his fingers curled lightly around yours, his touch slow and careful, like he was giving you every chance to pull away. “if you’ll let me.”

your heart pounded as he leaned in slightly, his movements deliberate and unhurried. you hesitated for a moment, the echo of last night’s hurt still fresh.

“buck...” you started, your voice barely a whisper.

“tell me to stop,” he said, his lips only inches from yours now. “if you don’t want this, tell me to stop, and i will.”

you didn’t tell him to stop.

instead, you closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was tentative at first, testing the waters. evan let out a quiet, relieved sound, his hand sliding to your waist as he deepened the kiss, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was savouring every moment.

when you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against his, you were both breathing hard, the air between you charged with unspoken promises.

“i’m still mad at you,” you murmured, though there was no heat in your voice.

“i know,” he said, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “i’ll make it up to you. i promise.”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself, 

the warmth of his presence melting the last traces of doubt.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ᯓ★

© ialreadymadeyouapromise 2024.

[lizaintheduster]

Oh my god, the idea that God keeps bringing Cas back because he thinks Dean moping around the bunker is boring is so funny. Like the first two times God brings him back, he does it right away cause he's like, "This freaky lil Angel is pretty interesting to have around. Let's throw him back into the mix." But then when he betrays Dean and dies in season 6/7, at first Chuck is just sipping Mojitos and luxuriating in the man pain, but then the man pain just. doesn't. stop. And fuck that's boring, Dean just won't stop moping.

So fuck it, let's give Cas amnesia and some weird wife, he won't have to be plot relevant anyway cause obviously he'll take on Sam's hell trauma, boom two birds, one stone. Now we can get back to the brothers brothering. Except fuck, somehow Cas has wound up going to purgatory with Dean, ugh lame. Well, let's just give Cas a few nightmares that really play into his self-loathing, that should be enough to get him to stay behind, the self-deprecating sad sack. But shit, didn't think this through, Dean's out and he's already looking pretty mopy.

No worries, just gotta push Naomi in the right direction, just a little nudge, there we go. Cas is back, but with a tasty little twist of Heaven mind control to keep him out of the narrative. Excellent. Screw it. Maybe Naomi could even get him to turn on Dean? Dean could kill him, that would be awesome. Wait, why the hell isn't Dean fighting back? Get off your knees! Cas can't kill Dean, that's lame, I'll have to think of some way to bring him back... wait, wait what? Did he just snap out of Angel programmed mind control? Oh for fuck sake, this is gonna be such a pain in the ass.

Blah blah, several more seasons of trying to keep Dean and Cas apart including having Gadreel fall near the hospital, retconing how Reapers work so one can try to take out Cas, pointing that weird pink Goo Angel in a Cas shaped direction, having it so that stolen grace is a thing that drains away, but nothing is God Damn Taking. The Angel is still up and kicking, and for some reason, Dean seems hung up on the broken little thing.

Right, time for mental warfare. If just the right digs are made at just the right times, maybe, maybe the Angels self esteem will drop low enough to... that's it. There it is. Say yes to Lucifer. Another betrayal, right, Dean? Right, Dean? Dean? Oh for crying out loud he's not even dead! Dean get over it, he said yes to Lucifer, he sucks Dean, why do you care? Ugh fine, let's say Amara's juice blasts Lucifer out of Cas, happy now? Fuck he's so boring when he's worried about what? A defective Angel?

Whatever, let's just throw some random side quests at them for a while. Surely, Dean will just lose interest eventually. Oh! Idea! Trap Dean and Sam in a government facility and then sabotage every attempt the Angel makes to save them. Again, two birds, one stone. Cas will feel useless and pathetic for failing to save Dean, and Dean will surely realise what a useless waste of celestial intent Cas is.

Okay, at this point, I should have seen this coming. Oh, thank me, Lucifer kebabed him. Light show, big burnt out wings for dramatic effect. This time, let's just wait it out. Dean can't stay single minded, drunk and hung up on Cas forever. Eventually, he'll realise he needs to step up to the plate and start parenting the Angel kid, I have some amazing Abraham and Issac stuff lined up, so we need to get moving with the bonding. Any minute now. Any minute now. Come on Dean, he's not even that strong anymore, why do you care? Jesus Christ Dean, you know your mom is also dead, right?

Screw it. Let's say Jack's powers can reach the empty. Shit does this mean I need to figure out how the empty works? I never got round to writing any of that. Okay, wow that was a choice, maybe I'll retcon the accent later... let's just focus on getting Cas back to earth, so Dean... aaaaand Dean has it wearing a fucking cowboy hat. How, out of all my universes did this glitch wind up infecting the original. Should have let the Angel just stay dead that first time, would have made my life so much easier.

Well, it's the final hour, might as well get one last hit in. Let's kill off the alternate universe people first, that should be just the right push to... perfect, yep, Dean blames death, and of course, Cas will follow. Hook line and sinker. I'll just let Death kill Cas, and then I'll have Death's weird poison thing wipe her out at the last second so Dean's still around for the end game. Oh? Oh, no way? You have got to be kidding me. This is priceless. He's actually saying it? That's the money shot right there. Wow. I need a margarita. Oh, but wait. Idea! Wouldn't it be perfect, just perfect, if Dean's childhood selective mutism were to make the briefest reappearance. Just for a second. Ahhh. You have outdone yourself, Chuck. No more revivals, Dean. I'm already bored.

[wlw-imagines]

It’s Not What It Looks Like - Eloise Bridgerton/Reader (Bridgerton)

request: “can you make like a eloise bridgerton and her lover get caught?” - anon

a/n: very excited to have the time to be writing again, happy days -- set at beginning/mid season 2 ig?? also regency homophobia? pft the bridgertons are above that shit (mostly... so this is a sprinkling of regency homophobia warning ig but more gay pride really !!)

back to new fresh writing from this year (how is it 2024 wtf) - word count is almost 6k yo + no editing because i do not want to

The two of you giggled like little children as you raced one another up the stairs. Eloise pulled on your arm in an attempt to overtake you but you just about managed to beat her to the spot - despite her cheating tactics. 

You tangled your fingers with hers, holding onto her hand as you opened the door to her room, “We should cause a nuisance to your Mother more often.” You looked over your shoulder and made eye contact as you spoke, grinning mischievously. 

Her cheeks turned a sweet rosy colour as she mirrored your smile, letting go of your hand in favour of wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, her hands rested on your hips.

“Hmm, what a punishment to get sent away to be together.” Eloise expelled an over-dramatic sigh before letting out a light laugh. “After all, we are just doing what we’re told.” She shrugged innocently and moved around you, sitting down and landing on her bed with a bounce.

You laughed, letting your gaze linger across her room, acquainting yourself once more with Eloise’s own space and all the small things that had changed since you were last here, “It seems extremely unlike you to ever do what you are told, my love.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, before patting the space next to her.

“Come here, sit.” She smiled and shifted slightly to the side, “Perhaps close the door first.” You let out a small laugh and turned around, gently pushing the door shut.

Turning back to Eloise, you quirked up an eyebrow and smiled, taking a few steps back to stand in front of her, “Is the door shut so we may have further deep discussions about the poetry you leant me? Because if so-”

As soon as you were close enough, Eloise interrupted you and pulled your body between her legs, pressing against her front. Before you could try to finish your sentence, El had her hand resting on your jaw and had pulled you towards her to kiss you. 

Her kiss was, as always, full of emotion and meaning, though today it was also a kiss with a hint of urgency. You let yourself relax into her as she kept your body firmly against hers in as many ways as possible - craving your touch.

You pulled away gently and rested against her. She closed her eyes and smiled, “I must admit to wanting to do that for the longest time.”

Putting your hand back under her chin, you whispered, “You may do it again, if you so wish.” 

She wrapped her arms around you, rolling and pulling you onto the bed so you were lying on top of her and she giggled, peppering your face with kisses.

“We should be careful, my love.” You said, pursing your lips and glancing at the door as you pushed yourself up. El sighed and pulled you back against her, a slight pout on her lips.

She jutted her chin up slightly in defiance and her pout gave way to a soft smile, “Maybe I do not want to be careful.” 

You let out a small snort and gently raised an eyebrow again, “Hmm,” You pressed a few soft kisses to the corner of her mouth, before moving yourself so you were laying next to her with your legs still across her lap - ignoring her protests. You felt something crackle beneath you and moved to grab it and, upon realising it was the newest Whistledown, you held it out to Eloise, “Did you read the latest gossip?”

She groaned lightly in frustration at your distraction tactics but humoured you all the same, rolling onto her side and propping herself up on her elbow, “I may have been distracted half way through. It arrived just before you did.” Her hand came to rest on your stomach and she gently traced her fingers over the material of your dress.

“Where did you get to?” You asked, the gossip already opened as you re-read the pieces you had seen earlier in the day. Eloise raised her head slightly to look at the paper in your hand and gestured to the third paragraph of the first page.

“Perhaps around there?” She shrugged slightly.

Your eyes widened, “Oh, but you completely missed the best bit!”

“Read it to me?” Eloise asked, looking to you through her eyelashes. You smiled, blushing at the intimacy of the moment. 

“Surely there are more romantic things for me to read to you?”

She just hummed and rested her head against your shoulder, “My heart is so full for you that anything you do makes it beat faster.” 

“You’re very soppy, you know that right?” The blush on your cheeks increased tenfold and you couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss to her lips, brushing your noses together before moving back slightly.

Before you could get another word out, Eloise’s door burst open and Hyacinth fell into the room, a broad grin on her face. Her eyes skipped around the room, looking for the two of you, “Hello? Sister, please - please may I borrow your silk ribbons for m-

You did your best to scramble up and put a bit more platonic space between yourself and Eloise, “H! Good afterno-”

Eloise lazily rolled over, glancing over her shoulder to see her sister, “Hyacinth? Go away. We were in the middle of-”

Hyacinth cleared her throat and had already begun retreating backwards out of the room, her face bright red, “Oh... I didn’t- Sorry, excuse me.”

Your heart was beating faster now and you called out in an attempt to stop her. You wanted to try to explain that it’s not what it looked like at all, “H, wait-”

“Don’t, just let her go. Stay here with me.” Eloise took your hand and tried to pull you back into her again but you resisted this time.

“No, El, what if she tells someone?”

Eloise sat up next to you with exaggerated effort and huffed, “What would she say? Besides, I still want to do this...” She leant towards you, her hand brushing against your hips as she gently connected her lips with yours, “And you were going to read to me?” She whispered, mere inches away from capturing your lips with hers once more.

“What would she-? Really, my love? What would you say if you were to see... the Duke, for example, practically straddling your sister?”

“Straddling? We weren’t straddling, we were just- It’s not...” The realisation dawned on her as she looked at you and considered the close proximity - her hand on your lower stomach, your legs tangled together. Her face went pale as she whispered, “Oh, fuck. Hyacinth! Sister, it is not what it seems.” She untangled herself from you and jumped off the bed, gathering her skirts as she chased after her sister. “Hyacinth!” 

You took a second to panic before pushing yourself off the bed and you followed El out the room, almost crashing into her back on the landing outside, “Where has she gone?” You asked El, who shrugged and you could see the similar panic in her eyes, mirroring your own.

“Mama!” Hyacinth’s voice drifted to you from below. Your head snapped round to the stairs.

“Bloody hell!” Eloise muttered under her breath, running around you to get to the stairs. She thundered down them and, if you weren’t worried about Hyacinth, then you would have laughed at her complete unladylike stomping.

Hyacinth’s voice wailed again as she looked around for her family, “Mama!”

“Oh my, whatever is the matter?” Violet’s voice joined the mix once Hyacinth had found her, evidently exasperated with all her children’s drama.

“It was Y/N and Eloise! They were... together.”

It felt as though there was an audible eyeroll before the two of you heard a response, “Well, yes, I sent them both upstairs to talk about their books and other such stuff. They were too loud down here with all their... chatter.” Just as she finished talking, both you and Eloise hurtled around the corner and into the sitting room, in which the whole family was sitting.

Eloise quickly - and loudly - voiced her objections to whatever accusations she had been picturing her sister making, “Mother, whatever Hyacinth has just said... she is lying. She is withholding the truth from you, as she often does, and-”

Hyacinth’s nostrils flared slightly in annoyance, “I do not!” She interrupted, frowning over at her sister, who quickly (and childlishly) responded right back.

“Do too!”

“Eloise, be kind to your sister.” Lady Violet quickly put her hands up to signal for the two sisters to stop talking and to find some kind of peace, “Besides, she has said nothing but that the two of you were talking.” She shrugged and began to turn back to the rest of the family but Hyacinth piped up again, more confusion and irritation lacing her voice this time.

You quietly and quickly prayed to any deity listening that Hyacinth’s words wouldn’t be utterly discriminating, you still had a chance to wriggle your way out of any current accusations.

“No, I don’t mean talking.” Hyacinth rolled her eyes and her cheeks turned red, “Mama, you must believe me. They were... together!”

Violet let out a deep breath and shrugged apologetically, “Darling, I do not know what you mean.”

You clear your throat and try to shrug nonchalantly, but ends up an awkward flail, “No one does- I mean, it’s fine. Let us all go back to what we were doing, how about that?” You try to move the conversation on - desperately, you must admit.

Simon raises an eyebrow and tilts his head ever so slightly at you, you blush and shake your head. This immediately causes a smirk to break out on his lips, which he clearly does his best to suppress or to hide but this just brings Daphne’s attention to him. You are sure your blush is a permanent feature now.

“Hyacinth, you always cause such a rush and a chaos, running down here to announce nonsense. What do you mean ‘they are together’?” Daphne herself chooses to chime in, frowning at Simon with a questioning glint in her eye.

Eloise lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes her head, “I rather think she means nothing, so-”

Anthony sighed deeply and in an over-exaggerated manner, leaning his head on his palm before snapping, “No more breath need be wasted on this subject. They were together, so what?” He shrugged, clearly bored of the conversation and fuss, and dropped his hands to his knees.

Eloise brightened up and gestured towards him as she looked and nodded to the rest of her family and then focused her gaze back to Anthony, “Well said, brother!” 

“Eloise!” Colin gasped and you did all you could to suppress a groan of disbelief. Anthony immediately straightened in his seat, a fresh interest lighting up his eyes.

“What?” She looked to you with slight alarm, sensing she had done something wrong.

“Agreeing so vehemently with Anthony? I never thought I’d see the day!” Colin leant forward, looking between Anthony and Eloise. He shrugged, raising an eyebrow, “Well, if my suspicions weren’t first raised by Hyacinth screaming the house down - now they well and truly are.” 

Eloise took a deep breath in and shuffled her feet slifghtly before rolling her eyes, “Sometimes... I occasionally might agree with what he has to say.” She folded her arms tightly across her chest, staring defiantly at Colin.

“No, you don’t.” Anthony challenged, bringing everyone’s attention back to him.

Eloise frowned and gritted her teeth, “Yes, I do.”

He let out a scoff, “No, I am sure that you do not.” 

“I simply insist that I do!” 

You let out a small sigh and sunk down into the armchair next to Simon and Daphne. Simon sent you a glance that, at first one may think was sympathetic, but, upon further inspection, showed he was clearly enjoying your public annihilation. You just glared at him, which made him simply smile. Infuriating man.

Colin stood up between the two of them and gestured to Eloise, “Now look! You can’t even agree as to whether you agree.”

“So, what, pray tell, is going on?” Daphne raised an eyebrow, glancing between you and Simon and clearly clocking the looks you were giving one another.

You reluctantly cleared your throat, deciding now was a good time to take the heat off from Eloise who was clearly struggling, “I promise, nothing untoward is happening here. We were just playing games, weren’t we H?” You smiled over at Hyacinth, begging her with your eyes to just go along with it.

Hyacinth’s eyes lit up, “Like Daph, and the Duke!” You audibly groaned this time. This kid would not take any hints.

VIolet hesitated, her eyes flitting from one daughter to the next, Hyacinth to Daphne to Eloise, before letting out a confused- “What?”

“They were together... like them!” Hyacinth looked slightly triumphant as she pointed across to Simon and Daphne.

Simon raised an eyebrow and shook his head before muttering under his breath, “Oh, no. Please don’t drag us into this.” You wanted to turn to him and stick your tongue out, but realised that was probably not the best move to play in this very moment.

“Well, I rather think we should let the two in question answer us.” Daphne stared pointedly at the two of you. 

“Here, here!” Simon quickly chimed in, wearing another annoying smirk on his face as he looked at you.

You were about to attempt to protest but as you opened your mouth Eloise defiantly piped up, “Fine.” She shrugged, as nonchalant as she could be.

“What?” You asked in a low voice with a bit of urgency, looking up at where she was standing above you.

You locked eyes and she nodded, clearly trying to convey a message (of which you had  speaking slowly. “Y/N and I were...” She hesitated and you started to panic, knowing you had to come up with something in order to save her.

“Arguing.” Eloise said at the exact same time as you interjected with- “Dancing.”

Eloise swirled back around to look at you, “Dancing? Why in the heavens would we be dancing?” She all but hissed and you looked at her with equal confusion.

“Your sister and her husband dance together... I don’t know?” You rolled your eyes before gesturing at her as you stood up, “Better, in my lowly opinion, than arguing.” 

“I had a plan! If you just let me say it then we would be fine right now.” She lowered her voice - as if that would stop everyone (who all had their eyes glued to the pair of you) from hearing your conversation.

You shook your head, “Eloise, you were floundering!” 

“I was not.” El all but stomped her foot, “I was... pausing for dramatic effect.”

“No, you always do that long pause whenever you are moments away from coming up with a lie. Everyone knows that!” Your voice rose slightly and you gestured to everyone in the room. In your peripheral vision, you could see Daphne raise her eyebrows before nodding. Even if you couldn’t keep the two of you a secret any longer, at least you had the vindication of winning that single point.

You watched as Eloise tried to come up with a rebuttal but, as already established, you were clearly correct. You grinned at her, utterly triumphant, and she just sighed before fondly rolling her eyes and letting her own smile mirror your own.

A clearing of the throat broke the brief silence and Colin’s voice soon followed, “It doesn’t take a genius to understand that the two of you are clearly lying but... really, Y/N? I mean, I must agree. Dancing? Eloise doesn’t dance lest she makes Mother believe she wants to be married off to the unlucky suitor.”

Eloise quickly shifted her glance to Colin and frowned, “I dance.” She insisted at the same time as you moodily grumbled out, “We dance.” and sat back down. To which Colin simply raised an eyebrow and opened his palms.

“Well, in that case, maybe Mother should marry her off to you.” He said and, seconds later, his gaze shifted to one of understanding. He went to open his mouth and shut it moments later.

Hyacinth let out a loud, frustrated sigh and pointed at Colin, “That’s my point! They were behaving like they’re married!”

“Right... I see.” Violet sat up stiffer in her chair and glanced down at her entwined hands before looking up to her daughter, “Hyacinth, go to your room.”

“But-”

Hyacinth went to protest but was quickly shut down with a steely one word response from her mother - “Go.” Reluctantly (and rather sulkily), she retreated out of the family room and stomped up every single stair before shutting the door to her bedroom rather loudly.

Throughout this, Violet’s eyes restlessly moved from her hands, to Eloise, and back, before eventually landing on Eloise completely. “Now, Eloise, I will only ask you this once. Were you- What was it that the two of you were... Tell me what Hyacinth means by...” Her mother danced around the subject, her hands working at the fabric of her dress, until Daphne sighed loudly and moved her body to sit facing Eloise.

“Mother remains to lack a certain skill of talking directly about... certain things. May I ask instead... are the two of you fucking?” She kept eye contact the whole time, hardly reacting as her mother physcially flinched and gasped, her cheeks turning rosy.

“Daphne!” Violet spoke, aghast.

Daphne eventually turned to her mother, “What? You cannot dilly-dally around with such a subject.” She shrugged and turned back to the two of you.

“I... yes. I guess perhaps... that is what I was getting around to in a way.” Violet’s gaze evetually settled on the two of you as well. 

You knew this direct line of questioning (and outing by Eloise’s sister) was going to be slightly harder to avoid than previously. And even then you hadn’t managed to do a convincing job of it. Still, the two of you bravely (stupidly) fought on.

Eloise vehemently shook her head, “I- no! We don’t...” She put her hand on your shoulder, which would normlly be soothing, but you pushed it off, hoping no one saw (they clearly did). “I mean we weren’t-”

You squirmed in your seat slightly. Explaining your relationship with El’s family was not what you had planned for the day, “What Eloise is trying to say is-” Eloise shook her hand at you, trying to forge on with her own sentence.

“To say ‘fucking’ is too-”

Your eyes widened at the way in which this conversation seemed to be going, “Eloise!” You cut her off, cheeks ablaze.

She looked across to you with innocent eyes, “What! I-”

Before she could land you in it even more, you tried to steer this into safer territory - desperate not to have to talk about sex in front of Eloise’s family, “Okay, listen-”

Again, Eloise managed to charge on. You slumped back in your chair, exhausted from trying to keep Eloise under control and away from the topic of fucking, “You know, I find it very interesting that... pleasuring a woman is deemed purely a male pastime and not-”

You let out a groan of frustration and sighed, taking hold of Eloise’s hand and squeezing softly, “El, my love, not the time.” She kept hold of your hand and turned to you. You took this as an opportunity to actually talk, “She meant we were not doing anything of the... sort. We would not even perchance dream of-”

Before you could finish your sentence, yet another Bridgerton was interrupting you. You involuntarily squeezed Eloise’s hand, tense at having to fight off more allegations, “They definitely are... surely. Look at them.” Daphne spoke.

You looked around the room. To Simon, who looked in pain at how much he was having to hold in a laugh. Daphne, who looked victorious. Colin, who still had an annoying, clever (but not unkind) smirk on his face. Anthony, who - in all honestly - couldn’t look much more like he was living a nightmare - perhaps tortured was the word. He was probably not feeling up to dealing with yet another Bridgerton scandal or another duel at dawn (which, for the record, neither were you). And Violet, who had started to return to a more normal colouring in her face, was looking slightly more relaxed - although you still couldn’t really read the woman.

Then... Eloise, who, since you had interrupted her, had been gazing at you. You were fools to believe that you could keep this under wraps. You finally saw her as if you were looking from the outside in and she had the most ridiculous, overpowering, gorgeous love-eyes you had ever seen. You melted in your chair slightly. You’d do anything to not have to give this up.

Eloise squeezed your hand gently and enveloped you in a hug as she was still standing and as you were still sitting, squeezing you into her side. She took a step back and held out both her hands. You hesitated but nodded, slipping your hands into hers.

With her gaze holding yours she nodded, “Yes, fine, we’re fucking.”

“Eloise!” You gasped, letting go of her hands and swatting at her head. She let out a laugh as she ducked away from you. Simon, next to you, finally let out the laugh he had been holding and Daphne quickly joined in. You turned to them, with red cheeks once more, “It’s not funny! Eloise, you’re being crass. And an ass. And anything else that rhymes!”

“I’m just answering the question I was given!” She grinned cheekily, stepping close enough to tempt another attempt at a hit from you, before dodging it just in time and letting out another laugh. You couldn’t help but start to grin at the absurdity of the situations, Eloise laughing wildly as she jumped around you, Simon shaking with laughter next to you. Even Anthony may have let out a small laugh. Maybe.

“Okay, stop, everyone.” Violet’s voice interrupted the slight moment of insanity, “How long has this been going on for?”

Eloise, still slightly puffed out from dodging your attacks, shrugged the question off, “Mother, it’s not-”

“How long?” Violet’s eyes were steely as she raised an eyebrow, tutting when Eloise let the silence stretch on a bit too long.

“Perhaps just a handful of months? Two? Or three. Maybe four?” Eloise’s smile shrank with every word.

“Under my roof?”

You slid back into your seat and quietly mumbled, “Under many a roof, in all fairness.” Although Violet had clearly heard as she frowned.

“What is this?” She asked gesturing between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” Eloise asked, stubborn as always, pushing her mother further than perhaps necessary.

Violet sighed and her eyes raised to the ceiling, “Eloise? Is this just your way of rebelling away from what is expected? From society? From me?” She asked, eyes landing back to Eloise.

“Mother-”

You wished you could bring back the laughter from moments ago. You gritted your teeth, annoyed at the woman you practically saw as your own mother. You hadn’t planned on telling anyone. Really you were going to try to live your whole lives together without anyone finding out. Which, in retrospect, had seemed a bit foolish. But you had hoped that Violet, and the Bridgerton family, of all people would be slightly more free-minded than this.

You stood up, putting yourself between Eloise and Violet, “This isn’t a rebellion.” You huffed out, angrily and frowned at Violet to really prove the point that you were angry at her. As the silence drew on and Eloise didn’t voice her approval of your input, you started to doubt yourself. You slowly turned to Eloise, eyes soft with sudden worry and feeling of self-consciousness, “Is it?”

“Of course not.” She frowned in dismay, shaking her head as she held your chin in her hands for a few moments. She then moved forward so she was shoulder to shoulder with you, “Mother, I- I don’t work to society’s rules. I’m not... it’s not my fault. It’s just me.” 

This was it. This was the make or break. You took in a deep breath and interlinked your fingers with Eloise’s. Stronger together. “El-” You whispered, your heart hammering. Violet had to accept you. She had to.

Violet’s voice came out slightly wobbly, “Eloise, of course it’s not your fault, you just-”

Before Violet could say anything more Eloise interjected, “I love her, I do. I love Y/N. Like you loved Father.” She sniffled slightly. You took a long sideways look at her and squeezed your eyes shut. Come on Violet. “I remember watching and wanting and yearning for what you had, ever since I was young. And I couldn’t understand why I could not even fathom that with any man in the ton. I haven’t known who I am. But I have that with Y/N, I do. You cannot blame me for finding that kind of love with her just because she is not a man, please.” Eloise’s eyes became glossy. You had to give it to her, she always pulled out a good speech. Well... not always actually. But this one was a good one. You squeezed her hand and didn’t stop until Violet answered.

“No, Eloise, I would never.”

“I know it may not seem right to many, but it’s... it’s not my fault... it’s who I am.” Eloise trembled slightly. Violet was on her feet before you knew it.

”Oh, my Eloise.” She herself had watery eyes. You could breathe a bit more easily as she swooped forward and brought Eloise into her arms. You let go of Eloise’s hand to let her wrap her hands around her mother’s waist. After a few moments, Violet pulled back, “Look at me. I know who you are. You’re a Bridgerton. You are one of the strongest people I have ever known. You are not at fault. How could you be when there is nothing to be at fault for?”

“You really think so?” Eloise asked.

Violet held both of Eloise’s clasped in her own, “Of course I do. A love like mine and your father’s, a love like yours, is rare so you have to hold onto it, yes?”

“I will.”

“Come here,” She hugged her again. “You too, Miss Y/L/N. Y/N.” She smiled at you and your face broke into a broad grin as she enveloped you into the hug too. You knew you could rely on her, always. Even if it took a little bit of time. “The two of you deserve the world.”

From the middle of the hug, you heard a soft clearing of a throat and Anthony once again piping up, “I don’t suppose you’ll be providing a dowry?”

Eloise pulled away from the hug, wiping at the tears grouping at the corner of her eyes, “Oh, shove off, Anthony.” She let out a half laugh and a half sob.

“I jest!” He grinned, “Unless...?” He turned to you, raising an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye.

“I’m sure I have a few pennies to my name.” You smiled and Eloise’s arms circled your waist from behind.

“And I love her for more than just those few pennies!” She shouted over your shoulder, pulling you into her front.

Anthony put a hand on your shoulder and ruffled Eloise’s hair, “I am happy for you.” He finally admitted, a brotherly pride shining in his eyes.

You shifted away, letting Eloise and Anthony have a brief sweet moment (before one of them made a biting remark and it turned to hostility again). You decided to reclaim your seat next to Simon, who, with something akin to brotherly pride, put his arm around your shoulder.

“And I thought Daph and I caused quite the stir.” He grinned, bringing his arm back around to his side.

“Don’t, I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You wriggled deeper into the settee, willing yourself to forget the majority of the embarrassing things that has just happened. The two of you watched as the present members of the Bridgerton clan all talked at the same time, spitting out jokes and jostling at one another.

Simon followed your gaze to Eloise and let out a deep chuckle, “You’re a rake!” He exclaimed.

You gasped in fake outrage and turned to him, “I am not!” You protested, a smile forming as he continued to laugh and elbow you in the ribs.

“You so are! Worse than me, you rascal.” He smiled, his own gaze settling on his wife, who was tormenting Eloise with ‘girl talk’.

“Stop! I’ve heard the stories of you and Daph. You’ve out-rascaled me ten times over!” You smirked.

He shook his head, “The big rake competition of 1815.” He hummed. You smiled as Eloise came to join you, making you squeeze up to fit herself next to you, as well as letting Daphne fit in her original seat.

As silence descended and everyone started to calm, Violet let out a contended sigh and leant back in her chair, her eyes turning to the settee the four of you were currently squabbling over, “I must say, I’m quite good at this love matching malarkey, aren’t I?” She asked. Everyone immediately stilled and there was a heavy pause before the noise began again.

Anthony raised an eyebrow, “Well, I wouldn’t say that you-”

Daphne let out an exasperated, “Mother!”

Eloise snorted, “You have done nothing to help our love matches!” 

Colin sighed and shook his head, “God help the rest of us...”

Violet decided to ignore all her children and smiled serenely. And at that moment the doors swung open.

“Good afternoon one, good afternoon all, how are we?” Benedict swanned in, immediately clocked a plate of biscuits and helped himself, taking the whole plate in his hands. He munched for a few moments before looking around for an answer. When he didn’t get one from anyone he smiled, “What?” He finished his mouthful and wiped his hand clean before going for another biscuit anyway, “Well, have I missed something?”

There was another long pause before Violet almost burst with the answer, “Y/N and Eloise are together.”

Benedict’s eyes swerved to the two of you, practically sitting in each other’s laps in order to fit on the settee together. He paused before nodding and gesturing in your direction, “Yes, I can see that.”

Violet smiled and shook her head, leaning forward in excitement, “No, like, together together.”

The crease in Benedict’s forehead deepened as he glanced at you again, “Yes... as I say, I can see that quite clearly.” He let out a small laugh, looking around to see if there was some joke he was missing. “Is everyone okay?”

“Oh for goodness sake, can no one in this family communicate properly and succintly?” Daphne fumed, “They are fucking.” 

“Daphne!” You groaned, having prayed that this day couldn’t get more embarrassing for you. And yet there was still more embarrassment to bloody experience. This family was torture (you still would do anything to keep them in your life though, that was clear).

“Okay, can we stop with the crude language?” Violet cast a look to Daphne, before looking at the two of you again with pride, “They are lovers.”

You felt Eloise recoil next to you, “Gross, Mother, no.” She shook her head and only stopped when she saw you looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “What? I mean, I love you but- lovers? Really?”

“Sorry, that’s the big news?” Benedict’s laughed again and his smile grew as he whirled around to look at his whole family again before shaking his head, “Well, obviously! These two are the least subtle ‘lovers’ in the whole bloody world.” 

“Again, with the ‘lovers’.” Eloise muttered next to you.

You smiled and whispered back to her, “Shut up, you love me.” She squeezed your thigh quickly in answer.

“Does anyone actually pay attention to what goes on in this house?” Benedict walked over to the settee you were occupying and leant his elbow on the back of it, taking another biscuit and spreading crumbs as he went.

“Well, I thought we did a splendid job.” Eloise shrugged, removing her hand from your leg and crossing her arms over her chest.

Benedict shook his head, “I’ve seen you kiss at least seven times.”

“You’re counting?” You quirked an eyebrow up, teasing him as he threw his head back to laugh.

“No!” He protested, “I simply mean-”

You jumped up, ready to be the teaser rather than the teased, and grabbed a biscuit of his plate, “Do you keep a little notebook of each time we encounter one another?” You grinned, now finally the one who gets to revel in someone else’s embarrassment.

Eloise snorted, “Dear diary, Eloise and Y/N held hands for seven minutes and forty-two seconds today-”

“Leave me be.” Benedict rolled his eyes good-naturedly and swatted at Eloise as he started to walk away, back out of the family room.

You followed him, taking another biscuit, and continuing Eloise’s joke, “They kissed twice but one was simply a kiss upon the cheek so cannot be counted-”

“And here i was going to offer to be your beard.” He grunted. The rest of the family stayed seated, listening to your conversation.

Your laugh ringed out, “Total kiss-count to date: three.” You mimicked his voice.

“Now that you are essentially a sibling, I am not afraid to kick you down the stairs, you know.” Benedict’s muffled voice came from the bottom of the stairs. Your voices got quieter as you walked to the dining room and Violet looked around the room, smiling brilliantly.

“How marvellous. The family grows!” She winked at Eloise who sighed and left the room, not wanting to be without you now. Violet watched her go and hummed before turning to the rest with a frown, “What is a ‘beard’?”

Anthony took in a deep breath and quickly stood to his feet, “I think dinner is ready.” He cleared his throat and walked out, leaving the rest to slowly join him, and the three of you, at the table.