#I loved her chocolate series
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sunshineandlyrics · 1 year ago
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💔
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ratatatastic · 25 days ago
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Vanha Kauppahalli date: en full, a 2 minute 50 second masterpiece...
Primetime Panthers | 11.6.24 (x)
#aleksander barkov#matthew tkachuk#florida panthers#2425#the global series is a gift#“alright talk to me what do we got?” with the camera following behind them makes it seems like theyre spies doing reconnaissance#the start to a thriller where they got sent to finland stake out for intelligence#maffhew not even waiting for sasha to answer before hes asks about chocolate#“the purple one you always bring” maffhew has been charmed by sashas leaving choco in stalls as gifts when he comes back from finland huh#you can tell he says that with depravity of a man who finally realises he doesnt need to rely on his supplier he can get it himself now#“uh oh [laughs] okay... what is this?” maffhew was not prepared for all the food to already be ready for him he just hopped off a plane and#expected to have to wait more and did not and absolutely does not trust the situation in the same way you get romantic candlelit-dinnered#and youre like alright whats all this then whats your angle what are you doing#“this is salmon and rye bread 😄” “(with the eagerness to prove hes smart and engaged) so is that 👉” “(charmed) and so is that 🫱”#“ill try your favourite first” GURL RELAX OKAY SETTLE DOWN YOURE IN A NEW COUNTRY JUST CHILL MAN#“salmon and rye bread—thats the famous one 🤓” [sasha nodding along because he has to reassure maffhew but also hes in the middle of eating]#maffhew choosing the most inopportune time and you can TELL sasha is like [swallows quickly] because he wants to answer but also BIG BITE#“herring” “herrin' 🤠?” “eating all this her-RING” no notes#“is this just another salmon on rye bread” he says with hope because he likes salmon but also disappointment (he wants to try more foods)#“different salmon? smoked?” the amount of questions hes askijg because hes so terribly engaged he wants to know and sashas like [shrug]#he has to get an A+ in experiencing finland which is normal to want and possible to achieve#“i still love your country though” and sasha explodes into the mirthful grin ive seen in my life like he just won the damn jackpot#he speaks at 100 mph like please take a deep breath sweetheart youre excitement is papable but PLEASE#THE WAY HE GETS SO UNSURE WHEN HE MENTIONS BARKY HATES THAT FOOD WHEN HE LIKED IT SO MUCH#MAFFHEW YOU CAN GET A PASSING GRADE IN EXPERIENCING FINLAND IF YOU STICK TO YOUR GUNS I PROMISE#SASHA HELP A GUY OUT HERE MAN THROW HIM A BONE#SASHA ONLY LAUGHS AS MAFFHEW THROWS HIMSELF INTO A TIZZY OVER THIS YOU ARE SOOOOOO#the chuckle when sasha mentions he had runebergin torttu in school... id like to know what was funny there#we call out sasha for being too lovesick and laughing at all of maffhews “jokes” BUT HES JUST AS BAD???#“what the hell do i do with this thing?” MAFFHEW HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN MERENGUE IN YOUR LIFE???
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cherrhara · 10 months ago
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happy valentines day <3
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ciaoteamo · 8 months ago
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Milk and Water (Pt. I)
pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader
summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?
pt.II
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art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)
warning: 18+ content
“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.
A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.
“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.
“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.
You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.
You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.
“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.
“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.
Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.
“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.
You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.
“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.
“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.
“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.
His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.
Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.
“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button
“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.
“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.
“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.
“hm” You nod and press the button.
“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.
You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.
The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.
You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.
About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.
Staring at you.
His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.
“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.
“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.
“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”
He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.
His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.
“…what. the. fuck.”
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itneverendshere · 15 days ago
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - SEVEN
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, abortion, alcohol, drug consumption.
MASTERLIST
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You never spent much time on The Cut, unless you were being dragged by duty, mostly charity events for the local populations, fundraisers for their schools usually.
You always showed up in something tasteful but subtly expensive—pearls, understated Louboutin heels, and a blazer that whispered wealth without screaming it. 
Your mother taught you that.
Now, you sat in Poguelandia, doing god knows what.
The name alone sounded like some bad beach-themed party game. But you kept the snark to yourself—mostly. Sarah swore to you this was her new "thing," her big redemption arc, and who were you to judge? It wasn’t where you pictured spending any afternoon, yet there you were.
Pregnant. On The Cut. Drinking—well, holding—a very flat ginger ale out of a plastic cup.
You smoothed your dress for the hundredth time, light linen in a neutral tone that looked effortless but cost more than most people’s rent, while pretending not to notice Pope and Cleo staring like you were a rare bird that had wandered into the wrong habitat. 
Were they always this... intense? Did people on this side of the island not know how to look away when someone made eye contact? Your mother’s voice echoed in your head. They’re not staring at you, dear; they’re staring at themselves in relation to you. 
Whatever that meant. 
To their credit, they weren’t mean about it. Just... curious, as if you’d wandered in from a wildlife documentary called Kooks in the Wild.
You moved your weight around in your seat, hyper-aware of every grain of sand sticking to your hérmes sandals. Every time you shifted, you felt the grains grinding between the straps and your skin.
Should’ve worn the espadrilles, you thought ruefully, but even then, this wasn’t the world’s most glamorous venue. Sarah had begged you to stop by, though, and you owed her. It was also good for you to leave the house instead of being cupped up inside all alone.
“Okay, seriously, what’s with the staring? Do I have something on my face? Is my makeup smudged? Be honest.”
Cleo snorted. “No, you’re fine, princess. We’re just surprised to see you.”
You were still holding your sad little plastic cup. “Just thought I’d participate in—whatever this is.” You gestured vaguely at the mismatched chairs and string lights that looked like they’d been stolen from someone’s backyard wedding. “Community service?”
It was supposed to come off as witty. You weren’t sure it did.
Pope choked on his drink—sweet tea? soda?—and Cleo chuckled outright. “You’re funny,” she said, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if she meant it.
“Thanks?” It came out like a question, and you wanted to die just a little bit inside.
Pope grinned, leaning forward with a chip in his hand. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who hangs out in The Cut, that’s all.”
You blinked, feigning shock. “You don’t think I spend my weekends in—what is this, a glorified surf shack? I’m crushed.”
Cleo laughed again, which—fine—made you feel a little better.
“Nah, it’s just... you’re different up close. Not like, scary kook different. Just human. Y’know?”
“Great. That’s exactly what I was going for today.”
Pope gestured to the bar. “You want a snack? Chips? Cookies? We have...three options.”
You straightened, eyes narrowing like a hawk zeroing in on prey.
Food. Your stomach growled loudly, as if it had been cued by a stage director. “What kind of cookies?”
He blinked, not expecting you to care. “Uh... chocolate chip? Maybe oatmeal raisin?”
“And the chips?” You pressed, leaning forward now.
“Salt and vinegar,” Cleo piped up, eyeing you curiously. “Barbecue too, I think. Why?”
“Okay, shit, great.” You clapped your hands together decisively. “I’ll have all of it. All the chips, both kinds of cookies. Do you have anything else? Pretzels? Popcorn? Random condiments? I’m not picky.”
Cleo stared at you, her mouth slightly open. “Everything?”
“Yes, everything. Is that a problem?”
She blinked, her eyes darting to Pope like he had an explanation. He shrugged helplessly.
“Woman” she muttered under her breath. “Did you not eat for a week, or...?”
The salt and vinegar chips were divine, borderline transcendent, as you shoved another handful into your mouth. The truth was, you weren’t just hungry—you were still terrified. Every bite, every easy conversation with other people that weren’t Sarah, was a game of jenga to you. One wrong move, one offhand comment, and your secret could be out in the open.
Six more days until this would all be... over. Until the secret growing inside you—the one you’d barely admitted to yourself most mornings—would be gone.
The past three days had been the best you’d felt in ages, cravings and all, thanks to Sarah. She’d slept over, stayed up late talking with you, making you laugh, distracting you from the endless pit what-ifs and why-mes.
It was the longest you’d gone without crying in three months. The longest you’d lived without feeling like you could suffocate at any given moment. With her help, it had been easier to forget—to pretend that things were still okay.
But Sarah wasn’t there, she’d left earlier with John B, something about helping him with a tour.
“You good, princess?” Cleo’s voice cut through your thoughts.
You blinked at her, realizing you’d been crushing the chip bag in your hands like a stress ball. “What? Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You look like you’re about to fight that bag of chips,” Pope said, grinning.
You forced a laugh, leaning back and tossing the bag onto the table. “No fighting. Just... intense snacking."
You reached for the chocolate chip cookies he had offered earlier, focusing on the sweetness, the comfort of food that tasted good for once. Sweet, crumbly, safe. If only the rest of you life felt like that.
Pope and Cleo knew something was up, they all did, probably.
Sarah had been glued to your side, and it wasn’t exactly subtle.
Her sudden move to “stay over” at your place had obviously raised eyebrows, especially since you two hadn’t had a proper conversation in months before all this. And there was the beach clean-up, Kie and JJ had been there when you felt ill, and while you’d been too disoriented to keep up with the cover story once Rafe drove you away, Sarah had stepped in later to handle it.
Heat exhaustion. Overworked. Totally fine.
Still, to your relief, neither Pope nor Cleo seemed inclined to pry, perhaps it was pity, or maybe they were just decent enough to let you keep the little shred of privacy you had left. Either way, you were grateful.
“So,” Pope said, leaning back on his elbows and flashing you an easy grin, “How are you finding our place? I mean, other than our fine selection of snacks.”
You swallowed a bite of cookie, forcing a smile. “It’s...charming. Rustic. A real je ne sais quoi vibe.” You waved your hand vaguely, trying to mimic the way your mother used to describe terrible restaurants we’d never go back to.
Cleo snorted. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”
“It’s cute,” You offered, looking around, “I can tell you guys put your heart into it.”
Pope smirked, lifting a brow. "That's nice of you to say."
You gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance, but you meant it.
For all the mismatched chairs and questionable decoration, there was something undeniably warm about the place. You weren't used to that—spaces filled with love instead of decorators and florists, it wasn’t bad. Just different.
“I mean it,” you said, brushing crumbs from your lap. “It’s very authentic. ‘Pogue Chic’ or something.”
Cleo laughed, loud and genuine, her grin lighting up her face. “Pogue Chic?"
Pope chimed in, “Hey, don’t knock it. We’re trendsetters. Ahead of its time.”
You smiled, but your mind was already falling back to the sand clinging to your dress and the ginger ale that tasted like disappointment. You’d never say it out loud, but you admired them, that ability to make joy out of scraps. It was something you didn’t quite know how to do. Not yet, anyway.
Cleo leaned forward, her elbows resting on the makeshift table. “So, are we going to see you around more? Or is this just a one-time royal visit?”
You hesitated, twirling the rim of your cup between your fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe. If Sarah keeps dragging me here, I guess I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
You didn't know if it was the way he said it, the tone he used, or just your hormones fucking you up, but suddenly there were tears in your eye sockets. You blinked rapidly, tilting your head back slightly and praying that the tears stayed put.
These kids, all of them, sitting here like they hadn’t spent their lives scraping by, like they hadn’t been hurt or abandoned or let down a hundred times over by people they loved and trusted. Yet somehow, they were still full of hope, full of life.
You envied that.
You wished you could bottle it, whatever it was that kept them laughing and fighting and welcoming someone like you—a result of privilege and mistakes and heartbreak—into their home. It was humbling in a way that made your chest hurt.
“Does that mean I can choose to order better snacks next time? Maybe some sparkling water? Flat ginger ale is a crime against humanity.”
Cleo snorted, still not fooled by your deflection, but she let it slide.
“Good luck with that, princess. Our snack budget’s about three bucks and whatever we can steal from Kie’s pantry.”
Pope chuckled, tossing a chip in his mouth. “And you’re welcome to contribute if you’re so concerned about the menu.”
It surprised you, how easy it was to talk to them.
On paper, you had nothing in common. They were younger, grew up in a completely different world, and you were used to the polished conversations of country club luncheons and charity galas. 
Here, things were different.
They didn’t seem to care if you stumbled over your words, if your jokes were awkward or if you occasionally sounded like a walking trust fund catalog. They didn’t care about your last name, your family’s money, or any other things that had weighed you down for years.
That was disarming.
You’d spent your entire life around people who mirrored your upbringing—kids who summered in the Hamptons or Barbados, adults who measured their worth in stock portfolios and vacation homes. Now, you were here, in this cobbled-together haven with salt-stained cushions, sitting with people who’d grown up struggling for things you took for granted.
You thought it would feel more awkward or forced, but it didn’t.
It was easy.
Pope sat on the counter, gesturing with a half-eaten chip. “Serious question. How do you even survive on Figure Eight? Do they hand you iced lattes and designer handbags when you’re born, or do you have to work your way up to that?”
You raised a brow, smirking. “Oh, absolutely. The moment you’re born, they issue you a monogrammed diaper bag and a gold-plated pacifier. It’s very exclusive.”
Cleo nearly choked on her drink. “See, this is why we can’t take you seriously.”
Your phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with your cousins name, interrupting the fun. You sighed, rolling your eyes before picking it up. “Yes, Top?”
Topper’s slightly whiny tone spilled into your ear. “Can you believe Mom’s threatening to rent out the beach house for the summer? Actual strangers, staying there. What’s next? Turning it into a hostel?”
“Tragic,” you deadpanned, resting your chin in your hand. “Truly, a devastating blow for humanity.”
Pope fake-coughed, mumbling “white rich privilege problems,” while Cleo mouthed, “Hostel!” and shook her head, laughing silently.
“I know. Anyway, I’m coming over later.”
“Where’s your invitation?”
You heard him scoffing, “I’m family, I don’t need one.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Top, you can’t just announce you’re coming over. I might have plans.”
“Yeah, and I’m your family, so those plans now include me,” Topper said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “Besides, I’ll bring food.”
Across from you, Pope was already gagging dramatically, holding his stomach as if the mere sound of Topper’s voice made him physically ill. 
“I don’t know if—”
“See you at noon,” he interrupted. “Later!”
The call ended before you could even argue, and you set your phone down with a resigned sigh. 
“Looks like I’m hosting a one-man Topper pity party,” you said, crossing your arms and slumping back in your chair.
Pope clutched his chest. “Will you survive?”
You only left once the sun dipped lower into the horizon, you gathered your things promising Sarah you’d drive safely and talk to her tomorrow.
Cleo, Pope and John B were mid-argument about the best way to fix something in the shack. You felt lighter than you had in weeks.
With a few more quips exchanged and goodbyes said, you walked back to your car. That night, the ache in your chest wasn’t completly unbearable. You weren’t okay, but you weren’t drowning, either.
You’d been terrified of this afternoon all day, worried you’d stick out like a sore thumb or say the wrong thing.
But the Pogues hadn’t cared about your awkwardness, your polished self, or even the giant invisible cloud you carried everywhere these days. They let you just be.
The drive home was quiet, but this time you even hummed along to a song on the radio, which was strange because you couldn’t remember the last time you cared about music or even turning on that thing. When you pulled into the driveway and stepped into your house, it didn’t feel as cold and empty as it did last week.
You set your bag down on the entryway table and kick off your sandals, the floors cool beneath your feet. Heading to the kitchen, you decided to see if there was anything decent for tonight’s impromptu early dinner with Topper. The fridge greeted you with a sad bag of lettuce, half a bottle of sparkling water, and a single container of leftover pasta you weren’t sure was still edible.
“Great,” you muttered, closing the door and moving to the pantry.
The situation there wasn’t much better. Sarah’s latest health-kick contributions—a bag of chia seeds and some organic trail mix—laughed at you from the top shelf. You frowned, pushing them aside to reveal a dusty box of crackers and a jar of Nutella.
“Guess we’re going shopping tomorrow,” you murmured, grabbing the crackers and Nutella to snack on now.
You placed them on the counter and glanced around. The sink held a few dishes from earlier —a couple of coffee mugs, a bowl, a plate.
You sighed, rolling up your sleeves, might as well get this out of the way.
Normally, you’d have had someone else to take care of this—stocking the pantry, cleaning the dishes, even deciding on the menu for your lunches. But lately, you’d been scaling back. You hadn’t let anyone go, of course. You could never do that; the staff had been with your family for years, and many of them felt more like extended family than employees. Still, you’d quietly rearranged their schedules, giving them more time off.
They didn’t question it—probably thought it was some new phase, another eccentricity of a bored, privileged young woman.
Truth was, you liked doing these things.
Focusing on something small, tangible, gave your brain a break from drilling itself into a million dark corners. Folding laundry, washing dishes, even the routine of chopping vegetables—it kept your hands busy and your thoughts manageable enough. It wasn’t that you’d suddenly become a domestic goddess or anything. Most of the time, you’d forget to pick up groceries or burn whatever you tried to cook.
It wasn’t about being good at it. It was about doing something.
You looked around the kitchen, noting the little imperfections you wouldn’t have noticed before. A small water stain on the counter from where your glass had sat too long, the scuff marks on the cabinets where your chair scraped when you leaned back. They weren’t problems to be fixed—they were just signs of life.
And right now at that very moment, life felt…okay.
The house didn’t seem as cold or empty when you were doing things for yourself, even if it was mundane work. You finish up wiping down the counters, glance at the time—definitely cutting it close—and head toward the dining room to tidy up a bit.
Topper was not the type to notice if the place is spotless, but you always liked things to look... presentable, yourself included.
You heard the doorbell ring in the distance, he was early as usual, probably checking his watch just to make sure he wasn't a second late.
"Of course he’s early," you muttered to yourself, a little smirk pulling at your lips.
You walked towards the front door, ready to greet him, but when you opened it, your eyes immediately locked onto the large takeout bag in his hand. It smelled... amazing.
Topper grinned at you, an exaggerated flourish as he held up the bag.
“Guess what I brought?”
“You brought... Korean chicken wings? Really?”
“Hell yeah, I did!” He stepped inside, completely ignoring any formalities and heading straight toward the kitchen, “They just opened.”
He placed the bag on the counter with the confidence of a man who knew he’s just won “Best Dinner Host” without even trying. You peeked inside, the crispy wings drenched in a glossy, sweet-spicy sauce that looked downright delicious.
Topper laughed and took a seat, pulling out the wings, not even bothering with plates. “You’re welcome.”
You rolled your eyes but sat next to him, picking up a wing, the heat of it still making your fingers tingle. The crispy exterior cracked open with a satisfying crunch as you bit into it. It was everything you'd hoped for—tangy, spicy, perfectly cooked. You nearly moaned in pleasure, not even caring that your cousin was watching you with that cocky grin on his face.
“You look like you’ve seen the light,” He teased, leaning back in his chair as he grabbed a wing of his own.
“I mean,” you said, savoring another bite, “this might make up for you barging in uninvited.”
“Barging?” He clutched his chest dramatically, mock offense radiating from every inch of him. “I'm saving you from a night of sad dinners, and this is the thanks I get?”
You gave him a pointed look, but the corner of your mouth tugged upward despite yourself.
“Fine. Thank you, Topper. You’re the hero of the day. Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” he said, grinning as he reached for another wing. “What’s new? Still slumming it with my ex and the Pogues?”
“First of all,” you said, wiping your fingers on a napkin, “slumming it implies I’m suffering, which I’m not. And second, Sarah’s not a pogue. She’s pogue-adjacent.”
“Pogue-adjacent?” He snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time over there.”
“Like you’re one to talk,” you shot back. “You basically live at Kildare Brewing these days. That’s like, one pogue away from full assimilation.”
He opened his mouth to argue but then stopped, realizing you had a point. “Okay, fair. But only because they have good beer."
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up, but curiosity got the better of you. You hadn’t heard about her in a while, and you knew by experience, that was never a good thing.
“So... Ruthie,” you started, watching him over the rim of your glass as you took a sip.
Topper paused mid-chew, looking up at you like he wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation. “What about her?”
“I mean, you two are still together, aren’t you?”
He wiped his hands on a napkin. “We’re… not talking right now.”
You tried not to look pleased, but a rush of vindication bloomed in your chest. You'd grown to hate her, plain and simple. Her recent proximity to your cousin had always baffled you. He wasn’t perfect, but surely, he could do better. 
“I’m surprised.”
“Yeah, well,” he muttered, reaching for another wing. But then he stopped, like whatever he was thinking was messing with his head.
“What happened?” You asked, trying to sound more curious, concerned, than nosy.
You weren’t sure if he’d tell you, but the look on his face made it clear something big had gone down.
He hesitated, debating whether to answer. Finally, he sighed. “She... started a rumor about you.”
Your head jerked back in surprise. “About me?”
“Yeah,” he grimaced like he’d swallowed something sour. “She said you passed out at the beach cleanup and decided to spread some bullshit about you doing drugs.”
You just stared at him. “She what?”
You weren’t sure why you were so surprised.
You knew what she was capable better than anyone, especially when she was bored out of her mind.
“I didn’t believe it,” he added quickly, his tone defensive, as if that made it better. “I told her to shut the fuck up about it, but you know how she is. She thought it was funny.”
“Funny?” Your voice was sharp now, “She thought it was funny to spread lies about me? About drugs? What the fuck?”
“Yeah, it’s so messed up. That’s why I’m not talking to her. I told her if she couldn’t act like a fucking decent human being, we were done.”
You blinked, stunned.
You weren’t sure what shocked you more—the fact that Ruthie had stooped so low or that Topper had finally stood up to her. You shook your head, biting back another nasty comment about how awful she was. You’d been saying it for months, and he hadn’t listened.
No point in beating a dead horse now.
“It’s about time you saw what she’s really like. She’s really bad fuckin’ news, Top. Always has been.”
He gave a low grunt, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter. “Yeah. Took me long enough, huh?”
You didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow and sipped your water.
“She’s always been weird about Sarah,” Topper muttered, almost to himself. “Even when we were together, she’d find these ways to dig at her. Like that one time at Midsummers—”
“—When she ‘accidentally’ spilled her drink on Sarah’s dress,” you finished, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I remember. She’s always had this thing about trying to one-up her. Honestly, it’s so pathetic. But you never listen to me, so.”
“Okay, ouch.” He threw a crumpled napkin at you, which you easily dodged. “I listen to you sometimes.”
“Do you, though?” You gave him a pointed look.
“Yeah, I do!” Topper protested, though the whine in his voice made him sound more like the teenager he used to be, back when he’d follow you around during family holidays like a puppy. “Just… selectively.”
“Selective listening isn’t listening, dumbass. You’re just proving my point.”
He narrowed his eyes at you but didn’t answer, reaching for another wing instead. He took a bite, chewing dramatically, as if the exaggerated crunch would somehow end the conversation.
“Look, I’ve been saying for months that Ruthie’s bad news. Since she showed up at last year’s Christmas party wearing a dress identical to Sarah’s, just in a different color. You thought that was a coincidence?”
Topper groaned, dropping the wing. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Are you happy now? Can you stop rubbing it in?”
You grinned, propping your chin on your hand.
“Oh, I could. But what kind of older cousin would I be if I didn’t remind you how often you’re wrong?”
“You’re not that much older than me.”
You shrugged. “Old enough to know better than to date someone that awful.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius. I get it.” He looked over at you again, his gaze softer, this time, “But seriously, you’ve been off lately. If there’s something going on, you can tell me, y’know? We’re family, even if I don’t listen to you half the time,” he added with a small smile, though his eyes were searching, hoping you’d let him in.
It would be so easy to tell him the truth—that you were pregnant, scheduled for an abortion in six days, and drowning in uncertainty and dread.
But he was still Rafe’s best friend, and the risk of this ever reaching him was too high. Instead, you forced a lightness into your voice.
“Nothing I can’t handle. And right now, I desperately need the bathroom.”
He looked at you skeptically, not fooled for a second.
“You’re really okay?” he pressed, his voice dropping to a level that told you he wasn’t going to let this go easily, "I texted and called before, you didn't answer. Thought you were resting from the scare."
You’d been having such a calm, easy time with Sarah, you almost forgot about everything else. The thought of picking up the phone, letting all that anxiety and worry back in, just wasn’t appealing—so you’d ignored his calls, but not on purpose. You were doing him a favor.
You plastered on a smile and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as you passed. “I promise, I’m fine. Just felt a little light-headed and needed some peace."
His eyes narrowed slightly, unconvinced. “That’s all?”
You forced a giggle, hoping it would sound more genuine than it felt. “Yes, Dr. Thornton. Just needed to eat more or drink water or whatever the fuck it is you’re always telling me to do.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, crossing his arms, watching you closely. “Because you’ve never just fainted before.”
“I guess there’s a first time for everything. Besides, don’t you think I’d tell you if something serious was wrong?”
It took everything to maintain eye contact, your stomach twisting at the lie. He was family, and you wanted to trust him, to let him help you. But you couldn’t. He hadn’t even told you about Rafe and Sofia until you found out by yourself. 
Topper tilted his head, considering you, then sighed and gave a reluctant nod. “Alright, fine.”
“Okay, if you’re done being weird,” You pushed back from the counter, grabbing your glass. “I gotta pee,” you announced casually, as if this was the most normal interjection in the world. The wings were good, but running away was tempting. And also, the pregnancy had made your bladder a ticking time bomb, and you really didn’t want to risk any accidents. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
You offered him one last smile, hoping it was convincing enough. He whined some sarcastic comment about your water consumption as you hurried away, but you barely heard him.
All you thought about was the blessed relief that awaited on the other side of that door.
You didn’t usually spend this much time with Top nowadays—your own tendency to avoid “close” family drama—but tonight had been oddly… nice.
Even if you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck half the time. Even if you hated lying to him. If he’d just pushed a little harder, maybe you would’ve folded, let it all spill right there in the kitchen.
Every time you thought you’d come to a decision, another doubt would take over you, leaving you back at square one. You knew what you wanted, so why was this so hard? 
Topper had looked at you with such genuine concern back there. The “if you need me, I’m here” sentiment was the same one you’d grown up with, the kind of care only a cousin, practically a sibling, could have.
This was hard.
When you came back into the kitchen after taking your sweet time in the bathroom you immediately noticed something was off.
Topper was by the counter, staring at the half-eaten pile of wings by the table like they’d personally offended him. He looked paler, too—almost like he’d seen a ghost.
“Uh…” You stopped mid-step, furrowing your brow. “What’s with the stupid face? Did the wings betray you or something?”
He jolted slightly, as if he hadn’t even heard you come in. “What? No. No, the wings are fine. Great. Amazing, even.”
“Okay…” You gave him a skeptical look, setting your glass down and crossing your arms. 
Topper laughed, but it was this oddly nervous, stilted sound. He glanced at his phone, tapping the screen for no real reason, then shoved it into his pocket.
“You know what, though? I totally forgot—I have something planned. Like, super important. In about… ten minutes.”
You stared at him, unimpressed. “You forgot you had plans? Sounds fake, but okay.”
“So unlike me!” He got up from his chair with such sudden energy that it made you take a step back. “Anyway, I should really get going. Don’t want to be late. Uh, thanks for… hanging out. And for, uh, letting me use your wings as a form of therapy. Yeah. Later!”
And with that, he was sprinting for the door.
“Topper!” you called after him, confused and mildly annoyed. “What the hell is going on? You’re acting fuckin’ weird!”
“Nope, not weird! Just busy!” he shot back over his shoulder, not even looking at you as he opened the door.
You didn’t have time to yell at him before he disappeared out the door, the sound of his Jeep starting up echoing from the driveway a moment later. You stood there bewildered, staring at the now-empty doorway.
Something was definitely up. He was many things—dramatic, stubborn, occasionally insufferable—but shifty wasn’t usually one of them.
You went back to the kitchen, glancing at the counter, ready to brush off his weird exit as just another of his dramatics, when your eyes landed on a random envelope— the one you’d been using to scribble down everything lately. 
Extra small grocery lists, reminders, and, unfortunately, the number for the abortion clinic.
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Rafe’s fingers curled loosely around the tumbler of bourbon, eyes set on nothing in particular. The lunch rush was winding down, country club regulars filing out.
He’d been there for over an hour—first, the meeting, listening to those finance guys ramble on about numbers, projections, all that bullshit he usually liked to hear. 
He’d faked his interest well enough, but his mind had been miles away. Mostly thinking about you. And the company, of course, because that was his priority right now. Or, it should be.
The whole thing with you, three days ago, it was a slow-mind-burning headache he couldn’t ignore, even if he wanted to. And he had wanted to, tried to, in fact.
He took another slow sip, hardly tasting the bourbon. Across the room, Sofia was working between tables, balancing trays and forcing her best country club smile.
All he saw when he looked at her was you, it only made him force down another swallow, running his thumb over the rim of the glass, mind somewhere between the company projections and the mess he’d made of things with you. 
It was ridiculous that you were still in his head. He should be thinking about that deal, about locking down his place in the Cameron empire. 
Rafe pushed the glass aside, signaling for the check when something caught his ear—a conversation from a nearby table.
“Yeah, she actually passed out the other day. Pathetic.” The voice was loud, sneering.
A dude’s voice followed, fake sympathy dripping from his tone. “I heard she was a fuckin’ mess after the whole breakup.”
“Oh, totally.” A different girl laughed, high-pitched and cruel. “She’s probably on something. Can you blame her? I’d be desperate too if he dumped me.”
It didn’t take a fucking genius to know who they were talking about. Small town and all, of course, things got around, mostly turning into half-truths and petty rumors.
He stopped all his movements, jaw clenching. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, the only thing keeping him from breaking something, preferably bones.
They were talking about you. 
About some made-up version of you, the fact that these spoiled, airheaded brats thought they could shit talk about you like that, rip you apart for fun just because you weren’t there to defend yourself made him sick.
He pushed his chair back and stood, crossing the room with long strides. He didn’t care about the eyes following him as he walked up to their table, the laughter stopping the moment they looked up and saw the look on his face.
“What did you just say?”
The girl who’d been laughing, a petite brunette with too much makeup and a self-satisfied smirk, blinked up at him, her smile faltering.
“Oh, Rafe! We didn’t see you there. We were just…joking around,” she stammered, trying to backpedal.
“Joking?” He laughed, the sound making them flinch. “That what you call it? Spreading some bullshit rumor because it’s all your pathetic little lives have to offer?”
The brunette’s face went red. “I mean, we all heard about it. I’m just saying what everyone’s already thinking—”
His fists clenched and his patience, already thin, snapped the second he heard the guy—one of those trust fund preps with an overdone tan and a too-tight polo—chime in.
“Oh, come on, dude,” the guy smirked, leaning back in his chair, feigning nonchalance. “It’s not like she’s worth all that trouble, is she?”
His entire body went rigid, and before he registered it, he was leaning down, letting them feel the weight of his glare.
“Say that shit again,” Rafe taunted him, something almost amused twisting at the edge of his mouth, daring him to keep talking. “I’d love to hear you repeat yourself.”
“Relax, man—”
He didn’t even let him finish, eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a near whisper, more dangerous than shouting ever could be.
“You think it’s funny? Talking about someone who’s not even here to defend herself?”
The guy’s face paled, and Rafe swore he was seconds away from landing a punch, from wiping that smug grin off his face. Just as he prepared his fist, ready to make good on his threat, he felt a hand on his arm, a small, insistent tug. 
“Rafe,” a soft voice hissed. Sofia. He barely glanced at her, shrugging off her grip.
“Don’t,” he snapped, his voice sharp, dismissive.
He kept his eyes on the guy, who looked more uncomfortable by the second, squirming in his seat.
Sofia’s hand still hovering near his arm, cautious now. “Rafe, come on, this isn’t worth it. You’re better than this.”
She looked scared. Scared of him, scared of the situation. He wasn’t better than this.
He’d never been, and he’d been good enough at lying and pretending for her even to think that.
You would’ve known better.
Fuck, you wouldn’t have wasted time talking.
You would’ve yanked him back by his collar, shoved yourself between him and the guy, shot him that warning glare, daring him to keep pushing you so you’d have to drag him out by force. You always knew when he’d get like this, that edge in his voice, that look in his eye that told you he was seconds away from snapping. You knew better than anyone how to pull him back when he hit that switch.
But you’d never bothered with gentle.
Sofia’s eyes darted around the room, clearly embarrassed, maybe even afraid of drawing attention. He knew this wasn’t fair to her, that she hadn’t signed up for this part of him—the anger, the unpredictability. It wasn’t in his nature to stay silent, to ignore things and walk away. 
He could almost see it—feel it, like a familiar bruise under his skin. You’d shove him hard enough that he’d stumble back, half-pissed and half-shocked. You’d get in his face, not even close to scared, cutting through his spiral. “What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe? You wanna end up in jail over some loser? Grow up.”
If you’d been here, you wouldn’t have given him a choice. You’d have grabbed his arm and dragged him away, kept a grip on him until he’d snapped out of whatever dark place he’d dropped into. You’d push him until he finally let go, forced him to come down from that blinding fury and face the mess he’d just caused. It was the only way he’d ever been able to listen—when you pushed him to wake up, forced him to look at himself and see just how reckless, just how stupid he was about to be.
But Sofia? She had no idea. 
She thought saying “you’re better than this” was going to do anything, that with a light touch and some empty words, he’d suddenly be calm, reasonable, soft. 
But he’d never been that way, never with you, never with anyone.
She hadn’t done anything wrong; she’d just seen the version of him he’d wanted her to see. The version he’d put together, patched up and polished, all so he could convince himself he was something he wasn’t.
With her, it was easy to pretend. He could smooth his sharp edges, show her just enough of himself to keep her interested without letting her close enough to see the mess underneath.
He’d let her believe he was the kind of guy who could just calm down, let things slide. The kind of guy who’d listen. He’d wanted her to believe he was controlled, calm. Sofia’s softness had appealed to him, but now, it only highlighted the differences between them.
With you, he’d never had the luxury of pretending.
You’d seen through him from the start, never let him get away with putting on some act.
You hadn’t let him pretend to be better than he was, hadn’t let him off easy when he’d tried to brush things off or shut down. You knew every side of him, even the ones he’d rather ignore. You’d always known exactly who he was, who he wasn’t, and you’d never been afraid to remind him.
He didn’t want to let it go, didn’t want to give the guy an inch of leeway to think he’d won this. Rafe sighed and released his grip, his hand falling from the table as he finally stepped back. Sofia relaxed, giving him a relieved smile, but it only made him feel emptier. 
“You talk about her again and I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me?” 
The guy sputtered, looking down, embarrassed and shaken. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like an apology, but Rafe didn’t care enough to hear it.
Sofia’s hand was still on his tail when he left, and as soon as he walked out of earshot of the table, she followed him, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed with an expression he’d never seen from her —disbelief. 
“What was that?”
Everything.
Rafe didn’t speak. He was staring past her, back at the group, mind far from the confrontation and miles away with thoughts of you. She seemed to notice, her lips pressing together.
“I can’t believe you did that. You threatened to kill him, Rafe. Over what, a stupid rumor?”
A stupid rumor? She was making him feel like he was out of control, irrational—even though he couldn’t explain why this mattered so much.
“You wouldn’t get it. It’s not your problem.”
She flinched a little, her face falling, but to her credit, she didn’t look away. “You’re right. I don’t get it. Tell me.”
He wanted to believe that it could work with Sofia.
Nice girl, pretty too. She laughed at his jokes, and she didn’t call him out on his bullshit, because she didn’t even know that side of him existed. On paper, she was perfect. But she wasn't you.
He looked back at her, her worried eyes scanning his face.
It was frustrating—seeing the fear, feeling her judgment when she didn’t even know what she was judging.
To her, this was just some meaningless outburst, something he could turn on and off at will. This wasn’t her fault. He knew that. He hated how this wasn’t something he couldn't put into words, not in any way that would make sense to her.
“Forget it, alright?” his tone was harsher than he meant.
Sofia shook her head, clearly not willing to let it drop this time.
“Why would you get so worked up over something like this?"
To her, that’s all this was—just noise, harmless, inconsequential. 
She looked up at him expectantly, her brows furrowed in confusion, waiting for some reasonable answer.
And it pissed him off, how she kept waiting, expecting him to offer some calm, measured response when he didn’t even understand it himself.
Sofia’s eyes softened, but it only irritated him further.
“She’s nice,” Her words drifted out casually like she didn’t know she’d just cracked him open. “She defended me, last week, when I was serving brunch.”
He couldn’t stop the self-loathing.
You had always been that way—ready to defend anyone, even when you were the one hurting. Rafe winced, hating himself for it, hating that you could still be so good even after everything. He swallowed hard, keeping his expression blank.
“Did she?” he muttered, trying to sound indifferent.
“Yeah,” Sofia replied, watching his reaction with mild curiosity. “Guess I wouldn’t have expected that.”
Rafe’s jaw clenched, that familiar hurt in his chest.
His mind was already conjuring all the times you’d jumped in, backed people up, and called out anyone who crossed a line. Even when it came to people you barely knew.
It made him feel like the worst person in the world, knowing that you’d been there for Sofia of all people, that you’d shown her that same loyalty. It made him hate himself even more.
His phone buzzed, saving him from the inevitable conversation, his hand brushed the side of his face as he glanced down at the unknown number flashing across the screen. He didn’t hesitate, before swiping the answer button.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Cameron, this is Dr. Harris from the hospital,” the voice on the other end said. “We’ve been trying to reach Miss Thornton about the blood work results from her visit three days ago. Unfortunately, there’s been an issue with our system and a few patient’s data has been deleted, except for the emergency contact information.”
Rafe’s stomach dropped.
He was still your emergency contact, not by choice probably. The hospital was calling about your blood work.
Was something wrong?
His blood ran cold. “Is she okay? Did something happen?” The urgency in his tone made Sofia’s eyes widen again, her confusion growing.
“We’re concerned about a possible infection. We need to run more tests to rule it out, but the symptoms suggest it could be more complicated. We must check thoroughly to be sure.”
“An infection?”
“Yes, but it could be nothing serious. We just need her to come in as soon as possible for a follow-up,” Dr. Harris explained.
There was a pause as if he expected Rafe to say something reassuring or offer to pass on the message. 
Sofia’s brows knitted together as she watched him. “Rafe?” 
“I’ll tell her,” he said, the words cracked in his throat. The doctor thanked him and hung up.
He stared at the phone waiting for it to ring again with more news, a reassurance that this wasn’t as serious as it sounded. 
You probably hadn’t changed your emergency contact because it slipped your mind.
He couldn’t stand the idea that something could be wrong, and he was not the one you called when you needed someone. All he’d ever done was mess things up between you.
“What’s going on?”
How the fuck was he going to tell you when you'd blocked him everywhere?
He couldn’t call, couldn’t text, couldn’t even show up unannounced without risking the usual argument that would end with you screaming at him to get out, or worse, you looking at him with that unforgiving stare.
He knew you’d locked every door, bolted every window to keep him out, and he deserved it. 
“It’s nothing,” he said, the lie slipping out automatically. He could feel her studying him, waiting for another explanation he also didn’t have the patience to give.
Maybe Topper could help.
The irony wasn’t lost on him—he’d given your cousin the mission of checking in on you, playing the careful messenger while Rafe kept his distance. That was supposed to be him.
But the reality was you hated him now, hated him enough that Topper was a safer option and yet, the private information still landed on his lap. As if he still had the right to be in your orbit, let alone the person trusted with this kind of news.
It felt wrong.
He knew you were going to hate him even more for still having access to your private details. It wasn’t really his fault—the hospital called him. He should have hung up the moment the hospital mentioned your name, told them they had the wrong guy. But he didn’t. He listened. 
“If you need to go—” she started, trailing off when he didn’t answer. Her voice softened, tentative. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”
Rafe’s jaw ticked, and he looked away, out at the horizon where the sun was setting.  “Yeah,” he muttered, not bothering to lie this time.
His thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He typed something out, then deleted it, then typed again.
Finally, he just went with the simplest thing he could think of and hit send.
Can we meet up? Tannyhill in 30. I think I know what’s wrong.
He half-expected some lame excuse or joke from Topper. Instead, the text he got made the deep lines across his forehead make an appearance.
Shit, you do???
Did the fucker already know?
Did he suspect? Or was this just the kind of baited question someone asked when they thought they were the last to know something big?
He frowned, gripping the phone tighter.
If Topper did know, why hadn’t he said anything?
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oreo-creampie · 2 months ago
Text
𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 ⊹ 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡
they were roommates poly series
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! established relationship, period sex, receiving oral (Toji is nasty what can I say), fingering, making out, some fondling, praise, voyeurism, some masturbation, they’re soft for you it’s your time of the month you deserve it 💅, double pentration, some making out (not with toji), sucking on suguru’s fingers, creampie, calling Toji and Suguru daddy, ‘it’s too big’ (Toji has a thick cock), light size kink, praise, Toji records your pussy for a little bit, squirting
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧! boys taking care during time of the month for they were roommates series
Oreo: his hand in this picture is making me feral
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Toji parts your wet pussy lips admiring your small hole. “Such a pretty pussy.” His scar deepens with a cocky, lazy smirk, your cunt’s blood coating his lips, dripping down his chin.
Toji dips his head messily sucking and stroking your sensitive clit. Nudging two curled fingers in fingers, your messy cunt squelches, stretching for his fingers easily.
Pumping his fingers, rubbing your sweet spot easing the cramps. Your thighs tremble, breath hitches and your grabbing a handful his hair, roughly tugging.
Writhing, twisting your hips away Toji is persistent, following you with his tongue and fingers. Grabbing your hip pulling you back into place.
You hear the front door unlock, the footsteps of your roommates and the crinkle of their bags. Satoru stop in the entranceway, the blood rushing to his cock.
Suguru slips his shoes off with an annncoument of, “We got you plenty of chocolate, donuts, cupcakes, muffins, ice cream.” Rolling his eyes when Satoru sets the bags down, fixating on Toji and You.
Satoru presentes a sleepy teddy bear, it’s fuzzy paws outstretched. “Annnnnd a cute teddy bear, it warms up in the microwave for your cramps.” Your breathy moans, beautiful face, and messy cunt has the blood rushing to his cock.
Suguru nudges his elbow into Satoru’s arm. “Help me put the snacks up first. No sticking your dick in her mouth either! She’s relaxing.”
Toji glides his fingers out, sucking them clean, wiping his face clean with his crumpled black shirt. His towering over you, broad shoulders, muscular arms, fat pecs and sculpted abs.
Smearing his spit and pre-cum on his cock head, sliding his fingers down his veiny cock head. Crooning, “Princess,” slowly looking you up and down, stroking his cock faster.
Rubbing your puffy, sensitive clit, “Imma take care of her, help her feel good so you can rest.” The softness in his deep voice as your cheeks burning.
Biting your lips, and slowly dragging your gaze up his chest. The various pale or light pink scars make him look hotter. Catching his passionate stormy gray gaze.
Teasing you, “Havin’ fun admirin’ me doll?” Toji pushes your thigh by your side, swiping his warm, fat head between your lips.
His abs clench as he sensually rolls his hips, gently sliding his thick cock in with a deep, sinful groan. His jaw drops slightly, “Nnnn ahh fuck, s�� warm nnnn tight!” Tilting his head back, his jawline and adam’s apple looks so slutty.
Splaying your fingers on Toji’s flexing abs. “Nnn daddy ‘s tooo biiigggnnnnnhhh!” Clenching Toji tighter, getting off how his soft skin feels in contrast to how pussy grippingly hard he is.
Each slow, deep stroke makes your cunt loudly squelch. “Yet she’s takin’ me perfectly.” Grabbing his phone, recording his fat head slowly stretching your tight hole out. Until your messy cunt is stretching wide with the rest of him sinking in.
Showing you the clip, “Look at her mmmm love seein’ her messy nnnn’ bloody, stretchin’ for my cock.” Toji’s thick cock thinly coated in blood is widely spreading your messy cunt. Sinking in balls deep till you see only a faint sliver of his cock.
You can feel the slope of his cockhead perfectly rubbing your g-spot, before pushing deeper. Then there is the pulsing of his veins and how incredibly hard he is.
Satoru and Suguru take up either side of the sofa. Something about being watching, knowing they’re next makes it so much hotter.
Toji groans, “Grippinnnn’ hhh me like thatnnn,” his large muscular body shutters, his eyes fluttering shut as his jaw drops with an erotic groan, “fuck me, she’s so much warmer, sloppier! Nnn! Love it when she’s so messy!”
Fixing his attention on your sloppy cunt. Admiring your wet lips wrapping around his cock, the way your messy pussy is spread wide open for him. “Wannnna cum in ya! These two can fuck it in deeper.”
Satoru croons, “How ya feeling beautiful?” Gently circling your soft nipple with his thumb. “Is he doing a good job taking care of our pretty lil pussy n’ princess?” Glancing from Toji to Satoru, your cunt clenching, fuck Satoru is so handsome.
His fluffy white hair streaks across his sparkling blue eyes. Glossy light pink lips stretch from a kind grin to a playful smirk when you don’t answer. “Aww are you too cock drunk to speak already?!”
You can’t answer, too close to cumming, each swipe of Toji’s thumb and stroke of his cock is wrecking you. You’re a moaning messed on a towel, curled-up against the sofa, legs spread wide open. Pussy too full to think straight.
Gushing and clenching Toji’s fat cock, his veins gently pulsing as he spills warm thick cum inside of you. “Shit ya felt too good to pull out. She was begging for me to cum in her.” The throbbing of his cock and the warmth of his thick cum deep feels too good to pass up.
Sliding your hand up his chest, squeezing Toji’s large pec. “’s warm! Nnn your thumb!” Your pussy flutters from how Toji’s rubs your sensitive clit faster. Slowly dragging his softening cock ou, dipping his head down, dragging his tongue between your lips.
He stops when his nose nudges your clit as he glides his tongue in with a groan. “Needed one more taste of your pretty cunt before I head for a shower.” Kissing your lips and kiss before standing up and leaving.
“Brush your teeth too!” Satoru calls after Toji.
He yells from the stairs, “Yeah, yeah yeah!”
Suguru picks you up cradling you to his chest, Satoru quickly switches the towels for two nearby fresh ones where Suguru gently lies you down.
Spreading your legs for Suguru. Settled between your legs Suguru slicks his long dark hair back. His muscular arms flex as he puts his hair in a bun. The shorter locks of his bangs quickly escape.
Wrapping your leg around his waist. “Can you take both of us? I’ll go first, get you loose and relaxed before he slips in.” Lining himself up, swiping his thick cock between your lips. Suguru is a little thinner than Toji but longer.
“Mmmhmm I wanna feel your cocks rubbing together inside me.” Eager to be sandwich in between Suguru and Satoru’s well sculpted chests. Wanting to feel their large hands holding, folding and caressing your body.
Satoru holds up a rectangle pillow, “Lift her up, l’ll replace it.” Suguru softly folds your leg by your side, carefully lifting your hips up for Satoru to slide it underneath.
Lifting your head carefully, Satoru puts a softer pillow beneath your head. Kissing your forehead, “How’s that?” Suguru swipes his cock head between your soft wet lip, sliding your leg over his shoulder.
Sliding your fingers along Satoru’s soft undercut. “‘S comfortable, thank you for being sweet all day.” Glancing from Satoru to Suguru. His slanted passionate dark chocolate eyes are too warm, too gentle, loving and captiving.
Suguru lifts your hand to his lips, kissing the interlocking three-band wedding ring. “It’s what our princess deserves.” Leaning over you, Suguru pushes Toji’s thick cum in with a gentle, passionate deep roll of his hips.
Quivering as Suguru spreads your sloppy wet, bloody pussy out. His soft skin contrasting how rock hard his cock is. Squeezing his hips with your thighs, his weight, soothingly presses you into the sofa keeps you from wiggling from.
You adore Suguru’s deep breathy groans, “You’re so beautiful princess, ya nnnnn feel so warmmm n’ soft, ‘s fuckin’ wet!” Your eyes roll back, jaw dropping with a needy moan.
The passionate sensual rocking of Suguru’s hips driving you wild. From the soft texture of his skin to how toe curling hard he is. He spreading you wide, going so deep in your squelching wet, messy pussy.
He stuffs his thick fingers past your lips for you to suck on. Swirling your tongue around both. Grabbing his large wrist, slipping your fingers into his soft hair, knocking his bun loose.
You can hear the slick sound of Satoru stroking his cock. “She looks so damn sexy underneath you takin’ your fat cock. Fuck me beautiful I can’t wait to feel your hot, tight pussy squeezing mw against Suguru’s cock.”
You pleadingly looking up at Suguru, picking his pace up. Suguru hard cock stroking your sensitive pussy, one his his puffy veins rubs your sweet spot.
Pulling his fingers out of your mouth and gently kissing you. You wrap your arm around Suguru digging your nails into his back, gently tugging his long, soft dark hair.
Parting your lips for Suguru’s soft tongue, moaning into his mouth. The kiss is so tender, slow, and passionate. His deep groans, and warm, muscular body pressing against your is divine.
Breaking away, “Are you ready for Satoru or do you need a little longer?” Kissing your for head, you love how much smaller you feel underneath Suguru’s enormous, muscular body.
Suguru leans back enough to admire your beautiful face. Begging, “Mmmhmmmready wanna feel you both!” Sliding your hand over his broad shoulder, down his well defined thick pecs. He’s so stunning, with a loving smile, gentle warm brown eyes and a well sculpted body making your cunt throb, clench and drool.
You hear the shuffle of moving furniture as Suguru carefully lifting you off the sofa. Satoru is pushing the carpet and coffee table aside. Spreading both the towel out on the floor, where Suguru holds you over.
Satoru presses his warm hard chest against your back. Leaning your head back to look up at his beautiful face. Admiring the shape of his jawline as he lines himself up. Splaying your fingers on Suguru’s chest, slowly slipping your fingers over Satoru’s undercut.
He gently glides his cock in, spreading your sloppy wet pussy wider. Stretching your taunt and tight, clenching both of their cocks, you can acutely feel Satoru’s head is above Suguru’s. Causing Suguru to rub against his cock head when he slowly rolls his hips.
Satoru and Suguru hold you in a mating press between them. Their large hands gripping your soft, squishy thighs. You jaw drops, thighs quiver, hips arch.
Matching each other’s pace perfectly, Satoru whines, “Nnn fuuuuuuck me! Nnnn that it princess squeeze our cocks together, ‘s wet n’ perfect.” He kisses the top of your head, dragging his hand slowly up your side. Softly rubbing your sensitive nipple.
Dipping his head giving you a passionate, deep kiss, moaning as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He’s needy, fervent like he won’t get another chance to kiss you. And this is his only chance to memorize your lips softly mold to his.
Suguru dips his head softly sucking on your neck, sliding his large hand down your thigh, squeezing the soft fat of your hips. Their cocks spreading your sensitive, messy cunt taunt as Satoru and Suguru fuck you.
You’re a thoughtless, cum and cock stuffed pamper princess between them. Getting off on their soft loving caresses and gentle roll of their hips. The intense, overstimulation pleasure soothing your cramps, leaving your a mess of bliss.
So eager to cum, moaning into Satoru’s mouth. Slipping your fingers from his soft undercut into his fluffy hair. When he breaks away to let you breath, you breathily plead, “Wanna cum! Daddy please! Don’t stop, I'm gonnnnnnnaaaannnn.” Satoru muffles your moans with his lips.
Suguru insists, “That’s it gorgeous, nnnn cum.” Your messy cunt gushes, spasms and clenches Suguru and Satoru’s cock. Both of them are too much for your sensitive cunt to stand a chance.
Whimpering, trembling, your eyes water as they don’t stop. Your warm thick cum soaking their cocks, balls and the towel below. Satoru softly strokes your nipple, crooning, “I’m so proud of you gorgeous for cumming so hard on our cocks.”
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wandaslittlebird · 3 months ago
Text
That’s What Mama’s Do
Stepmom!Wanda x Reader
An early Christmas gift from Wanda encourages you to indulge your curiosities, and Wanda learns she can be a bit rougher with you than she originally thought.
CW: Stepmother/Stepdaughter, guilt, sexual exploration, flashbacks, anal (R receiving), spitting, strap ons (R receiving), spanking, inexperienced reader, mentions of videos taken during sex, dirty talk
Word Count: ~4.7k
A/N: It’s back and I’m so excited! I’ve extended this series to be at least 6 parts now, so get pumped everyone. I just kept having more and more ideas.
A/N: So definitely not 48 hours but like kinda close?? I was struggling with this part and I still think it might have worked better as a drabble, but I think it works anyway. This part isn’t nearly as Freudian, but there’s more of that to come in future parts! I hope you all still enjoy!
Thank you @marvelwomenarehot0 for reading this like 5 times and reassuring me I’m FINE
Part 3 of Her Special Girl
The days were filled with peppermint hot chocolate, soft blankets, Christmas movies by the fireplace, and lots and lots of cuddles. You and Wanda were practically velcroed to one another, completely inseparable. The two of you preferred to stay mostly at the house together, seeing as you couldn’t be nearly as affectionate when there were other people around in public.
What had started as an unpleasant fluke in your Christmas break, had turned out to be the best Christmas present you could ever ask for.
One this particular afternoon, you and Wanda were dancing together to Christmas music in the living room. She had you pulled close to her chest, gently swaying you back and forth to the jovial holiday music. But louder than both the music and her heartbeat, one thought came blaring through your mind.
How could you ever leave this? How could you leave her, alone? How could you ever be so selfish?
You leaned back so you could see her face. “Mama?” You interjected. Your eyes searched her’s, looking for a way to ease the guilt in your heart.
“Yes, little love?” She smiled down at you with a heart full of love and admiration. If she was holding resentment against you for leaving, she was doing a very good job of hiding it.
You swallowed nervously. “Could I give you one of your Christmas presents?” You asked. You hoped experiencing her joy upon receiving your gift would quell the aching guilt. “I have more to give you on Christmas. I just wanted to give you a special one while it’s still just the two of us.”
Her smile widened. “Of course, sweet girl. How about we do a special little gift exchange with just us. You know how hectic it gets on Christmas Day.” She bent forward and whispered into your ear. “Plus, I have a present for you that no one else is allowed to see.”
Your heartbeat quickened. She chuckled as she watched a blush rise to your cheeks. She smirked, drawing a medium sized box out from behind the tree. You followed suit, picking out a small box placed carefully on top of the pile of presents. You’d taken extra special care to wrap it nicely for her. You’d been excited about giving her this gift for a while now.
“You first,” you insisted, setting her gift down on the couch after she handed it to you.
You handed her the box, chewing your lip nervously. She unwrapped it meticulously, slowly pulling away the tape without ripping the paper.
Inside was a rectangular jewelry box, off white with a golden W.M. pressed into the center. She opened the lid and gasped as she revealed a gold chain necklace with three stones pressed into the center. The biggest one, in the middle was your birthstone, and on either size shone two aquamarines, the twins’ birthstone.
“Honey this is beautiful,” she said, pulling the necklace from the box. “But this must’ve cost you a fortune.”
You shook your head. “Not a fortune. I promise it wasn’t exorbitant. The gold was a gift from dad from a couple years ago, but…”
“You only wear silver,” Wanda finished for you. She chuckled at the general cluelessness of her husband, thinking he could just buy the most expensive thing on the shelf and you’d love it.
You nodded, smiling a little at the thought that Wanda remembered such a detail. You gently took the necklace from Wanda’s hands, clipping it around the back of her neck while she held up her hair.
“It’s perfect, darling,” she said, putting her hand affectionately over the stones. “Thank you, so much.” It sat perfectly on her neck, level with her collarbones. It looked beautiful on her.
You picked up your own present from where you’d set it on the couch. It was a bigger box than the one you’d given her, but it was light. You didn’t take the same care as she did with the wrapping paper, simply picking a corner and tearing off the paper. You unwrapped and opened the box to reveal a harness. It was very similar to the one you already had, except, instead of one O-ring at the base, there were two.
You tilted your head in confusion, examining the object. Wanda watched you nervously, slightly afraid the gift was unwanted.
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Do you know what it is?”
“It’s a harness,” you answered. “But it has two rings for two…” the realization dawned on you as you spoke the words allowed. You stood in shock for a moment.
Wanda’s heart sank, thinking she’d gone too far. “It… it’s okay if you don’t wanna use it. There’s no pressure to try anything, of course. I just thought… you used to really enjoy…” she rambled.
You cut her off, still too caught up in your own thoughts to be paying attention to her nervous rambling. “Can we use it now?” You blurted out, excitedly.
She smiled. “Of course, little love. I thought you might like it. I remember you being rather fond of… playing like this.”
—————
You were standing in the doorframe of her home office, anxiously playing with your own fingers.
Wanda had been furiously typing away at her desk. The sound of keys clacking filled the silent room. Her face was focused, emotionlessly concentrated on the task in front of her.
You stood there awkwardly, trying to build up the courage to ask her your question. You certainly didn’t want to interrupt. You didn’t even like to interrupt her work when you weren’t about to ask embarrassing questions.
She was never upset with you, for interrupting her work. “Nothing that comes across my desk is more important to me than even your silliest queries,” she had told you. “Anytime I get to be talking to you, my work day has improved tenfold.”
Still, you stood in the doorway a little longer, hoping she would manage to notice you first.
After a few grueling minutes of going unnoticed, you finally decided to speak up.
“Mama?” You asked quietly.
Her face of pure concentration broke out into a wide smile. “Yes, my little love?” She responded, beckoning you into the room.
You exhaled in relief. She wasn’t upset with you for interrupting, at least. Now it was just a matter of trying to ask the question that brought you here in the first place. “I-I have a question,” you announced anxiously, cautiously approaching her desk.
“Ask away,” she instructed, leaning back in her car and swiveling it to face you. You had her full attention.
You looked down at the hardwood floor, unable to meet her gaze. Maybe this would actually be easier if she was still focused on work and you were simply in the background. “I… it’s embarrassing.”
Her face tilted, morphing into one of soft sympathy. “It’s okay, sweetheart. There’s no need to be embarrassed. It’s just you and mama here. You can tell me anything.” She reached her arms out, beckoning you closer so she could gently pull you into her lap. She sat you down and wrapped her arms around your waist, kissing you on the temple.
If she were anyone else, you wouldn't dream of asking her what you were about to ask. You lived in a world where questions, especially ones that may be considered taboo, were discouraged. Your curiosities had always been diminished and shut down, even since you were a child. And yet, Wanda was different. “You’re still growing up and learning about the world,” she’d once said. “It’s an honor to get to teach you about all the things you want to know. That’s what mama’s do, after all.”
You steeled yourself. “I… um… do you know how sometimes when we… play together you put toys inside of me and it feels really good?” You asked, trying to frame your question.
“Mhm,” she hummed affirmatively, trying to hide her growing excitement. She loved how flustered and embarrassed you got when you asked her questions about sex. It was almost as arousing as the “hands on” learning experiences themselves.
“I was wondering if… maybe you’d ever had toys in… the other hole,” you asked, looking down at your lap.
“Mmm,” she hummed again. She almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Were you really asking her what she thought you were asking her? God, you were more perfect that’s she could’ve imagined.
She kept calm, trying to contain her excitement. “I have. Mama doesn’t like to have things in her ass so much, but,” Her tone dropped lower and more sultry. She leaned over so close you could feel her breath on your ear. “I would love nothing more than if you’d let me play with yours.”
“R-really?” You stuttered. “You don’t think it’s… gross?”
She chuckled and shook her head. “No, sweetheart,” she assured. “It’s just another part of your body, little love. I don’t think any part of you is gross.”
“O-okay,” you said, leaning your head on her shoulder.
She pulled you tighter into her side, squeezing you in her arms and kissing your head repeatedly. “I love you so much,” she praised. “I’m so proud of you for being such a brave girl, and asking mama all your curious little questions about your body.”
“I love you too, mama,” you responded. You curled up in her lap, burying your red face in her neck.
“How about I forward all my calls to Natasha for this afternoon, and mama can show you all her toys and we can pick out some for you to experiment with, huh?” She whispered into your ear, voiced laced with excitement and seduction.
Your eyes went wide, and you nodded. It wasn’t the first time Wanda had dropped everything to fuck you, but you were shocked that seemed to be equally as excited about this as you were.
She led you to her closet, letting you peruse her collection. For someone who didn’t like to use them, she had a lot of butt plugs. She explained in depth their uses, the sensations of the different shapes and materials, and helped you make an educated choice of which one you’d like best. In the end, you both decided to start with a small metal plug, as well as a smallish strap. When you asked if she’d be pegging you with it, she chuckled.
“I don’t think you’re ready for that quite yet, little love,” she explained. “We’ll just use the strap like normal, but you’ll have the plug in this time. Does that sound good?”
You nodded. You were a little confused as to why she chose such a small strap if it wasn’t going in your ass anyway, but you trusted her judgment.
“One more thing,” she said, grabbing your favorite toy, the wand, before turning off the lights and leaving the closet. As always she took you to your own room rather than leading you back to her own. You both preferred to keep the sex out of the bed that her and your father shared.
She had you lean over the edge of your bed while she plugged the wand into the outlet. She handed it to you. “Alright love, I want you to make yourself feel good, okay? Can you do that for mama? Can you touch yourself while mama plays with your ass?”
“Mhm,” you hummed affirmatively, taking the wand between your legs and turning it on. You immediately shivered at the sensation.
She ran her nails softly up your back. “That’s it, good girl. Now just relax for mama.”
Her fingers moved down to circle your exposed asshole, watching the muscle tense in anticipation. You jumped at the unprecedented feeling.
“Shshsh,” she cooed. “Relax baby. You’re okay. Mama’s gonna take care of you. I’m just going to put a little lube on you, okay? It’s gonna be a little cold.”
You shivered again as you felt the cool liquid run down your untouched ass. She pressed her finger against your hole, gathering the liquid there before slowly starting to push into you. To her surprise, her first finger slid in rather easily.
You groaned at the sensation, muffled by the mattress. “Are you sure you’ve never had anything in here?” Wanda asked, suspicious but not judgmental. “It’s okay if you have, baby. You can tell mama. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
You whined into the mattress. “I-I… in the shower sometimes, I… explore a little bit.”
Wanda smiled, chuckling affectionately as she rubbed your back, slowly moving her finger in and out of your tight hole. “That’s okay, honey. You’re always allowed to explore your own body. Do you just play with your fingers? How many have you had?”
You nodded. “Just my fingers. And only ever one. I-I tried to do two, but… I couldn’t.”
She nodded, circling her finger around inside of you to get you comfortable. “Mama’s gonna try to add another finger now. Is that okay?”
You nodded. “Is… is it gonna hurt?”
She shook her head. “No baby, it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts just tell mama and we’ll stop, okay?”
You nodded. “Okay.”
“Good girl. Now, just try your best to relax. Take a few deep breaths.” You felt a second finger at your entrance, slowly pushing past your muscles. You squirmed, at the uncomfortable sensation, but Wanda’s hand on your lower back kept you still.
“Good girl,” she praised as her two fingers fully pushed into you. “That’s a big stretch isn’t it?”
You whined. It didn’t hurt, per se, but there was an intense, unfamiliar pressure. You turned up the setting on the vibrator between your legs, keeping the discomfort at bay.
She spread her fingers out inside of you, stretching the muscles further. You moaned, the discomfort morphing into something more pleasant. The pleasure, oddly, didn’t override the discomfort, but rather existed beside it. “Mama…” you moaned, starting to slowly buck your hips back into her hand. “Feels… funny.”
“I bet it does feel funny, doesn’t it?” She said. “Do you like it? You wanna switch over to mama’s plug?” Typically, she would’ve insisted on taking things a bit slower, but, likely due to your own ‘self-exploration’, you were handling it a lot better than she’d expected.
You nodded. “Yes please.”
She slowly pulled her fingers out, watching your muscles tighten back up and close. She fantasized, for a moment, about opening you back up so she could spit inside of you, watching your muscles close as little bits of her saliva leaked out. But she’d save that thought for later. You were far from ready for that.
She took the metal plug and poured a bit more lube onto the end. The plug was a bit bigger than both of her fingers, but not terribly so. She pushed the cool metal against your asshole.
You jumped and whined at the sensation. She shushed you, putting a firm hand on your lower back to keep you in place. “Just relax honey, just like before. Keep playing with yourself.”
You did as instructed, taking a deep breath and focusing on the sensation in your clit. On your exhale, she started to push the plug in. She carefully pushed through the resistance forcing the plug into place.
“Mama!” You cried out. A range of sensation shot through your body all at once. Pain, pleasure, discomfort, pressure all came to a head in a sudden orgasm you hadn’t expected.
Wanda eyes went wide, seemingly taken as off guard as you were. She smiled and rubbed your back affectionately. “Aww,” she cooed, “did my sweet girl just cum just from mama’s plug in her ass. It’s okay, baby. You’re doing so good.”
“I’m sorry, mama,” you apologized. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as sensations overwhelmed you. Unlike your usual orgasms, this one only made you hungrier for more. You turned up the setting on the wand again.
“It’s quite alright, darling,” she assured. “Do you still want mama to fuck you while you have the plug in? It might feel a little different than it ever has before.”
You nodded eagerly. “Please mama!”
“Okay, sweetheart,” she chuckled affectionately, surprised and amused by your eagerness. She lined herself up with your pussy, pulling your hips back to meet her own.
You cried out, suddenly acutely aware of why she’d chosen such a small strap. With the plug in your ass, your pussy felt so much fuller than you would’ve expected. Your hands shot out in front of you, gripping the bed sheets for dear life.
Wanda made her first few strokes slow, watching as the base of the plug shifted with her movements.
“Mama!” You cried again. “Feels so… so full mama. Please!”
“Does it feel good baby?” She asked, rocking into faster. “Do you like having mama in both your holes? Do you like it when she fucks you with a pretty plug in your ass?”
“Yes mama!” You breathed. “It hurts, just a little, but it feels so good mama.”
“Aww does it make your ass feel too full baby?” She cooed. “That’s okay, honey. You can cry while mama fills your holes. That’s it. Cry for mama baby.”
In an almost Pavlovian response, you started to cry. The pain was bearable, even surprisingly pleasant, but Wanda’s command allowed your body permission to let the tears flow. You were glad your admission of pain didn’t seem to deter her, even when it was paired with tears. In fact, the sound of your cries only seemed to spur her on further, nearly pulling out of you and pounding back into you with every stroke.
“Mama I’m gonna cum again,” you sobbed.
Wanda ignored you, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. You came harder this time, having to turn off the wand between your legs to keep yourself from overstimulating.
You tried to squirm away from Wanda, but she grabbed your hips harder and kept you in place. “No baby. Keep crying for mama. Keep making those pretty noises. I’m so close.”
You felt her hips start to falter before she pushed herself as deep into you as possible. She groaned, near collapsing on top of you before catching herself on the bed.
“That was so perfect, angel,” she soothed, pulling out of you while she gently ran her fingers through your hair. You whined at the sensation, lying limp on the bed. “Let’s get you all cleaned up and in some jammies, and then you can sit under mama’s desk while she finishes working. Does that sound good, little love?”
You nodded, groaning as she pulled out the plug and set it on the nightstand to be cleaned. Your head spun. All you could think of was your mama. You were so lucky to have someone who cared for you so deeply. You were so thankful you had her to guide you, to indulge all your curiosities. “Thank you, mama,” you mumbled tiredly.
“For what, sweetheart?” She asked, playing with your hair and looking down at your blissful face.
“For being here to teach me new things,” you tried to explain. Your head was so floaty you couldn’t get your words quite right. “And… and trying new things with me. And not thinking I’m gross or weird when I get curious about… certain things.”
“Of course, angel,” she said, kissing the top of your head. “That’s what mama’s do.”
—————
Wanda stood next to the bed, this time in her own room: the room she shared with your father. With him gone all week, her previous rules about keeping sex with you out of their shared space had gone as well. Unlike when you were young, it didn’t bother you much anymore. After all, you hadn’t seen him in years. In many ways, he wasn’t so real to you anymore.
So you held no discomfort about your current position, naked on your hands and knees in the middle of their bed.
Wanda was almost equally as naked, wearing nothing but the harness and the necklace you’d just given her. She was working on preparing and securing the toys you two had picked out in the appropriate O-rings. It she wasn’t so goddamn beautiful and you weren’t so goddamn turned on, she might have looked ridiculous.
But you suppose that was part of the gig with sex in general. It’s a little ridiculous, and, actually, mostly rather unsexy. But something about love and arousal morphs your perspective just enough to change everything: to make it a magical experience.
You’d chosen a smaller, blue dildo on the top. It was only about 6 inches long and less than an inch in diameter. On the bottom, you chose the first strap she’d ever fucked you with. It seemed fitting that the first time she’d use the strap on you in three years, she’d use the same one she’d used for your first time ever.
You felt the bed dip and she crawled onto the mattress behind you. She ran her nails down your back. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” She asked in a low sultry tone. She ran a finger up your slit. You’d been practically dripping since you’d opened her gift.
You shivered at her touch, instinctively buckling your hips back against her hand. “Please mama,” you whined. You were already so needy for her.
She wanted to hold out for a little longer, circle you while she toyed with your perfectly displayed body. But one look at your ass had her impatient. She needed to be inside of you, urgently. She lined the bottom toy up with your pussy, slowly pushing into. You were all too inviting, practically swallowing her. She was met with little resistance even in the first couple strokes. Then she pressed the top toy into your ass.
Instinctively, you tensed. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. Relax for mama. I’ve got you.” She rubbed gently at your lower back.
You relax, allowing her to push the toy into you. You whined as she pushed past the initial ring of muscles.
“Mama’s got you,” she reassured. “I’ll go nice and slow.”
The overwhelming full sensation immediately made your arms collapse, pushing you face down into the mattress. It was so much different than having her fuck you while you wore a plug. Rather than a static thing shifting inside of you, there were two things, moving simultaneously in rhythm with one another.
The stretch was overwhelming. You could feel both of the toys from both holes as they each pushed you open. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open. She’d hardly been in you for a minute and you were already losing your mind. “Mama… mama please,” you pleaded.
She leaned over to wipe the hair from your face. “What is it baby? Tell mama what you need,” she said, concerned. It had been a while since she’d fuck you. Maybe this was too much for your first time back. “Do you need mama to stop? I can take the blue one off and we can just use the pink toy,” she suggested anxiously.
You gripped the sheets under your hands, jaw slack and mouth opened. Once again, her anxious rambling fell on deaf ears as your mind was consumed with pleasure. “Faster,” you said unexpectedly. “Please, mama, go faster.”
Her eyes went wide at the unexpected request, but she hesitantly started to build to a moderate pace. She gripped your hips, pulling them to meet hers with each thrust.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” she praised. The sound of your skin hitting hers alone was driving Wanda crazy. She took a few deep breaths, willing herself to calm down. But when your weak little voice cried out from underneath her, she lost all semblance of control.
“Mama, please, harder.”
She tilted her head, giving herself a moment to process what you were saying.
She remembered you at 18, meek and trembling under her. She recalled the way you stuttered when you asked her even the simplest questions about sex. You were so ashamed and afraid to ask anything of her back then. It would’ve taken you weeks to muster even a simple request.
And here you were, years later, underneath her once again, shamelessly begging for her to fuck you harder. She couldn’t be more proud.
She slammed her hips into yours, gripping you hard enough to leave marks. “Did you miss mama fucking you like this? Did you miss her toys filling you up until you couldn’t think anymore?”
You nodded. “Yes mama!”
“You’re taking me so well, little love,” she praised. Her eyes darkened as she watched the strap disappear into you again and again. She was fixated with the sight. “Mama’s gonna have to get the camera out so you can see what a little angel you look like from up here, taking my straps all the way to the hilt. Would you like that baby? Would you like to watch yourself get fucked by mama?”
You nodded. “Mhm,” you hummed, biting your bottom lip. Her words took you slightly off guard, but that didn’t stop them from further turning you on. It seemed your boldness was rubbing off on Wanda.
“Mama could record you a little video and then you could watch it while you touch yourself later, huh? See what a good little girl you are for me.”
You moaned, nearly screaming into the wadded up sheets. “M-mama…” you stammered. The way she spoke, telling you her fantasies so unabashedly, made your head spin. You supposed this was as good a time as any to bring a fantasy of your own into fruition. “S-spank me. Please. Spank my ass.”
Wanda’s eyes darkened with lust at the request. She placed a cautious spank on your right ass cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to actually hurt. It was more just for the sensation.
“Harder,” you requested timidly. “Please, h-hurt me.”
Wanda slapped your other side, harder this time. You cried out, involuntarily clenching around the toys. She spanked you again and again, becoming obsessed with the sensation of you tightening around her. “You like it when mama hurts you?” She asked. Her voice was deeper than usual.
You nodded. You sniffled back tears, desperate not to cry. You were so afraid she’d stop or ease up, thinking she’d hurt you.
“Are you gonna cry for mama?” She asked, picking up on your stifled sniffling. “Go on and cry for me, love. You know mama loves to watch you cry.”
The floodgates opened as you started to sob underneath her, nearly shaking. “Feels so good, mama. I love being stretched with your toys. I love when you hurt me. I love you. I love you.”
Wanda smiled. God you were a vision, crying and trembling underneath her, and asking her to hurt you while you told her you loved her. “I love you too, darling. Fuck. I love you so much.”
“Please make me cum, mama. Please let me cum with you inside me,” you cried.
“You can cum whenever you want, baby. Go ahead and play with yourself for me. Mama’s got you. I wanna watch you cum on my toys, honey. Show mama how much you love her present.”
You reached your hand back and played with your own clit. She started to spank you again. “Mama!” You shrieked as you fell apart under her. She continued to fuck you and spank you, grabbing your hands at the wrist when you moved to push her away.
“Shshsh, angel,” she soothed gently. “I’m just making sure I get it all out of you, baby. Just let mama take care of it, honey.” She took both of your hands, positioning them on either side of your ass. “Be a good girl and hold yourself open for mama, okay?”
She pulled out of you, leaning over to spit in your open asshole. She watched in awe as the muscle closed back up, leaving her spit inside of you. She’d waited years to see this. Had she had a bit of foresight, she would have brought a plug she could stuff you with after, making sure it stayed inside. Oh well. There was always next time.
She moved your hands away, spanking your ass one more time for good measure. You groaned.
She grabbed a cloth off the side table, carefully wiping your clean. You squirmed under her gentle touch, but she held you in place before gently laying you on your side.
Much to your chagrin, she climbed off the bed. “Mama…” you called after her, reaching out for her.
“It’s alright baby, I’m just gonna take this off and then I’ll get all cozy with you in there okay? Wait just a second for mama.”
You pouted for the whole ten seconds it took her to get the harness off. She crawled into bed next to you, pulling you under the blankets with her. You curled into her side while she gently played with your hair.
“You’ve never asked me to spank you before, little love. What was that about?” She asked kindly and nonjudgmentally.
You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you replied hazily. “I was always too embarrassed to ask before, but… I’m not so scared anymore.”
She smiled and kissed your head. “I’m glad you asked,” she admitted. “I enjoyed it. And I’m so very proud of you for being so brave. You made mama braver too, you know.”
You cuddled into her closer, looking up at her from her chest. Your eyes begged a silent question.
She giggled. “Ah, I thought we were asking for what we want now? Now you’re getting all shy on me again?”
You whined. Asking for things was hard, and you thought you’d done quite enough for one day.
She chuckled at your stubbornness. “Do you wanna suckle for mama? You earned it little love, being so brave and asking mama for what you want. Go ahead sweet girl.”
“Thank you, mama,” you say before taking her nipple into your mouth.
“Of course, baby,” she whispered, kissing your head. “That’s what mama’s do.”
Taglist: @wandanatsgirl @jordy-12 @snowy12 @wandamaximoffsbadgirl @wandaslovey @alicentsbunny @theloveweholdtohigh @inarayofmoonlight @boredandneedfanfics @hikyiwid @mrskatemaximoff @redheadsinmybed @wandaslamb @marigoldenblooms @emiliaisdead @lizziefor @virginiatcm @kittercandy
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minranghae · 3 months ago
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Taste | 18+
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》 pairing: c.san x f!reader
》 genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint really hard
》 warnings: friend’s brother!san, female reader, general silliness, stubborn reader, san loves to tease, hes a sweetie too ofc, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pet names (angel, baby, etc.), coworkers, san bites reader one (1) time, barely proofread, unprotected, lmk if i missed any
》 wc: 5.2k
》 hello! i am back from the dead with my second fic and second installment in the senses series. i do apologize that this took so long, but i do plan on releasing more stuff soon-ish. i'm working on a longer series, so who knows what'll hapen lol. also! i am cross posting on ao3 now. the user is femdoms, so check it out if you are interested. finally, i just want to say thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this!
 “God, I really can’t stand you, San! Stop following me, pervert!”
“Yeah, whatever, just get in so we can talk,” he yells to you with his arm hanging out the window of his car, an annoyed, yet amused smirk covering his face.
“No way!” You yell over your shoulder, too embarrassed to face him both physically and figuratively. 
Really, how could you? Not after you found him with your diary in his hands, reading it like it was his favorite novel. At first, you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t see those pages, but the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 
And that’s why you’re here: running away from San in the middle of the night.
“I’ll make you a milkshake,” San coos from the car, causing you to turn your head in interest, “You know you love ‘em,” he offers, as if you’re a dog and he’s holding a treat in front of your face. 
And god damn it, it works.
“Fine, but I’m not talking to you until I get one,” you say, opening the car door and climbing in.
“You’re talking to me now,” he quips, earning a look from you that he thinks would’ve killed him if it had the ability.
“Alright, tough crowd,” he murmurs to himself with a dry laugh, hoping to earn a giggle- or at least a smile- from you, but to no avail.
The whole situation was so embarrassing. And degrading, and stupid, and embarrassing-
“Stop thinking so much,” he swats at your arm playfully, noticing the clear look of discomfort and sheer, unabashed embarrassment on your face, “you don’t even know what I have to say yet.” 
You answer him with a small hum, deciding against giving him a verbal response, because no matter how much you’d like to curl up in a hole and die, you’re still as stubborn as the day San met you. 
You officially met him the first day you worked at the diner. Your best friend’s family had owned it since the old owners left, leaving the significantly smaller family of four looking for new employees. College debt had already begun sneaking its way into the back of your mind, and Eunbi needed to work with someone other than her nagging parents or annoying older brother. It was the perfect opportunity for you.
“C’mon! Just try it!” The boy working with you begged.
“I already told you, I have trauma with milkshakes!”
San laughed to himself, trying to hide the amusement evident on his face.
“Look, I’m sorry you found a hair in your milkshake however long ago, but I can assure you that my milkshake is hairless,” he held his little finger up to you, “pinky promise.”
Rolling your eyes, you locked your pinky with his. Your hands lingered together for a moment too long, until San pulled his away to push the drink closer to you.
“San, you know, I’m not really a huge fan of chocolate-” 
“Didn’t you and Eunbi make chocolate cupcakes for your birthday though?”
You freeze, cheeks heating up at his question, unsure if it was the fact that he’d caught you in a lie or that he knew and remembered what you and Eunbi had done for your birthday bringing the blush to your face. Attempting to hide your embarrassment, you shot him a small smirk, gently pursing your lips.
“‘Gotcha there, honey.”
Ever since that day, San always had a milkshake waiting for you at the end of each shift. And maybe it was that kindness that made you blush, or maybe it was the fact that his eyes smiled along with his lips every time he greeted you. It could’ve been the way he always knew how to make you giggle, but whatever it was, it was clear that you’d fallen for San.
Which is weird. Weird because he’s older than you, he’s your coworker, he’s out of your league, and worst of all: he’s Eunbi’s brother.
Really? How cliche is that? It’s not even like you could tell Eunbi about it. That would’ve made everything so much worse. It’s embarrassing enough to be so head over heels for a guy who just sees you as his little sister’s best friend, but to have people know about it too? There’d be no coming back from that.
And that’s exactly why you decided to start keeping a diary, or mindful journaling as you called it. That sounded better than keeping a diary.
You originally started it to confess some of your feelings about San. You wrote how embarrassed you were to have a crush on him. You wrote about the milkshakes he made you and the times he defended you against angry customers. You wrote about how stressed you felt about life in general. Your worries, your fears, the moments of your days that you wanted to forget, but your mind wouldn’t let you. You wrote about anything you couldn’t confess to another person. 
On particularly late nights full of hopeless pining and horny desperation, you’d write about your fantasies, some involving random celebrities or TV characters, but most involving San. 
It was nothing too in depth, it was more about how much you wanted just a taste of him. You knew you could never have him for good, but if you could just feel his strong arms around you or his lips on your skin just once, maybe that’d be good enough. Just a little taste. It felt dirty thinking about him in that sort of way, but who would see it anyways? 
Little did you know, San himself would.
It had slipped out of your bag. And being the kind, and relatively organized coworker he is, San picked it up to put it back in your bag for you. The way it landed on the floor, though, left it open on its spine with its pages just begging to be read. 
He wasn’t going to read it. That would be an invasion of privacy, and San wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t do that.
But when he picked it up, he couldn’t help but notice his name on the page. And unfortunately, as it does most of us, curiosity got the best of him. 
San tried to stop himself, he really did. But, knowing just how eager you were for him put his head in a spin. He just couldn't help but picture you underneath him, with that adorable blush and shy smile that only appears when he starts teasing you. He wanted so badly to hear how you whimper, to feel how warm you are, to see how sweet you taste. He had a feeling you liked him, but he never would've guessed you reciprocated the feeling so strongly.
He saw this as more of an opportunity for you two. He wasn’t going to tell you what he’d seen; he’d just confess to you one night. And maybe it’d have to be secret for a bit, but eventually you could be his, and he wanted nothing more than that.
No big deal.
But, as soon as he heard a small gasp from the doorway and looked up to see your eyes welling with tears, he knew that plan was well fucked. 
San always thought you were pretty. From the moment Eunbi first brought you over, he couldn’t help but notice your expressive eyes and beautiful hair. But what he liked most was that shining smile you had. And seeing that he’d wiped it from your face as soon as you walked in, he just had to chase you.
And so, as you sat across from him in a booth in the dimly lit diner, he studied your face: the embarrassed blush and sweaty gleam sheening your forehead, your pouty lips wrapped around the straw of a chocolate milkshake as your eyebrows furrowed.
Even your beauty was stubborn.
He began softly, so as not to scare you, his fingers drumming against the table in a gentle rhythm, “So… do you like the milkshake?”
You looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked, “Yeah, it’s good.”
San pushed out a sigh at your icy reply, settling back in his seat as he let his palm fall flat against the table. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t find the words. You broke the silence a moment later.
“Look, we can both pretend like you saw absolutely nothing at all and I’ll ask to work different times of the day so we won’t even have to see each other. I’m not weird, I promise, I just-”
“Shh,” he cooed, grabbing one of your hands, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of it, “you didn’t even let me talk yet.”
San’s gaze scanned your pretty face for a moment, falling onto those eyes and lips he adored. His heart pounded against the back of his ribs, and yet, you seemed so nervous. Had he read it wrong?
“Did you mean it? What you wrote?” he asked, his voice holding a subtle tone of insecurity. His gaze fell to the table where your hands met, his grip tightening just slightly.
You looked up at him, your wide eyes sweeping over his strong face and your breath picking up. Of course you meant it, but did he want you to mean it? 
“Why are you asking that?” you mumble, pulling your hand from his shyly. Your entire face was tinged pink from embarrassment and guilt, so anxious. San couldn’t stand it.
He made an effort to grab your hand again, his other hand lifting your chin gently so you’d look at him. He shook your head a little, trying to bring out a tiny smile again. 
“You said you needed my face between your thighs…”
Your body went rigid. Out of all the entries, he just had to read that one? You remember writing it after watching him open something with his teeth one day, his jaw flexing as he used his teeth to rip open the plastic packet. Unfortunately, your mind was clouded by unsavory thoughts later that night, and so, into the journal those fantasies went. 
“I’m just saying, I’ve needed a taste for a while now, too. Just give me a chance. Don’t run, please,” he pleaded softly, his grip tightening on your hand ever so slightly. He gave you that look, the one where his eyebrows would furrow so gently and his eyes gleamed softly, a desperation hidden in them. San wasn’t one to beg, but he couldn’t let you think he didn’t like you.
To his surprise, the confession didn’t make you smile. Instead, you felt your eyes well up with tears and a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Slowly, you snaked around the table to San’s side of the booth, immediately wrapping your arms around one of his as you cried into his shoulder. He received you warmly, his free hand coming up to pat your head softly with sweet coos leaving his mouth, calming and affectionate.
“I thought you were gonna hate me forever, Sannie. I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiccuping softly, no even noticing your snot blotting San’s shirt. Such a mess.
San let out a breathy laugh, guiding your face up and off of his shoulder. He grabbed a napkin from the holder at the end of the table and wiped your nose with it gently, an affectionate air about him. He’d never seen you so emotional, and though his heart constricted seeing your tears, he was just happy to be the one taking care of you: his precious one. In a way, seeing you so worked up over something he saw as no big deal was endearing. Then again, almost everything about you was endearing to San. 
He smiled down at you after wiping your nose, mumbling, “Pretty girl.” You could feel your cheeks go red instantly, feeling like it was your first time having a crush all over again. 
He continued, his deep voice soft and sweet suddenly, “I could never hate you. Never, never,” he shook his head a bit, leaning in so that your foreheads were pressed together, “what I read only surprised me, but it would never make me hate you. So, don’t apologize for liking me. I like you, too.”
You swore your heart skipped a beat as he said that. In fact, it seemed like cardiac arrest would be the next step if he didn’t stop looking at you with those soft eyes.
“Never knew you had such a dirty mind,” he teased, rubbing your arm with his free hand gently.
And just like that, your eyebrows furrowed again and you hit his arm gently, too embarrassed to be sappy for long.
“Stop that! It’s not good to hold in all your thoughts, you know. You should write your feelings down,” you scolded, face bright red and lips pouting. San took the scolding at first, but it wasn’t much use. He was too focused on how cute your face looked all scrunched up. 
And, he couldn’t deny it. Being scolded was pretty hot.
“There you go again,” San interrupted, sighing playfully. He couldn’t help but tease. You stopped mid-sentence, unsure of what you were even scolding him about now.
“Hm? What?” you asked softly, a little pout remaining on your lips.
San giggled a little, his eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. It was just too much fun for him. He leaned in closer to your face, close enough that your noses nearly met in the middle, whispering, “You’re too busy being angry to let me give you a taste of me.”
That cocky bastard. Cocky, and teasing, and sexy…
Your eyebrows quirked up and your cheeks burned even hotter as he leaned in closer, his mouth just next to your ear. 
“That’s what you wanted, right? What you wrote in your diary… ahem, journal,” he whispered, need dripping from his words. 
And yet, you were too embarrassed to speak. Or, maybe flustered was the right word. Either way, your brain didn’t quite work when San teased you normally, and especially not when his hands traveled to your waist, thumbs pressing into you gently.
“W-well, yes, but it was just a fantasy! I was just imagining! If you read more, you’d see I wrote about celebrities also…” you stammered, your hands searching for a place to rest along with your eyes. 
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not special?” San asked, biting his lip to hold back a cocky smile.
You gasped a little, hands instinctively finding San’s firm chest, “No, no! I just meant, just,” you panicked a bit, somehow losing your words yet again as San put his hands over yours.
“So, I am special? Am I special enough to have a taste of you?” San asked softly, still teasing, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice, something like an invitation.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Sannie… What would Eunbi think?” You ask softly, eyes round and full of worry. Unintentionally, you leaned further into San’s chest, prompting him to pull you into a hug. He cradled the back of your head, petting your hair softly.
“She doesn’t have to know yet. And you can always say no, baby. I know I tease you a lot, but it’s just because you’re so cute when you’re worked up. We can take things slow if you want. It’s just that journal entry… it made me…” San trailed off towards the end, his own cheeks getting pink now.
Softly, you reached up and ran your fingers through San’s hair, finally offering him a big smile, “Look at you blushing now.”
San blew a bit of air out of his nose, suppressing a shy laugh. “How couldn’t I blush? The thought of you wanting me that way…” He trailed off again, voice high and squeaky now that he was being teased. He pulled you close and buried his face in your neck, letting his lips place a soft kiss before he continued.
“I want to hear you say it, angel. Tell me I’m special and it’s more than just a fantasy. Tell me how you want me,” he mumbled into your neck, using every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from kissing it again.
And, in that moment, months of yearning for, pining over, and wanting San in every way came back to you. Your heart ached a bit, and so did the space between your legs. Everything you had imagined and told yourself was just a dream was coming true. It was true that it would be difficult to hide this whole thing considering Eunbi could read you like a book, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go.
“God, San, I want you in every way possible,” you breathed out, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. As soon as you did, he latched on to it, sucking a small bruise into it. You trembled a little, involuntarily letting a tiny whimper cross your lips as you whispered, “But I really need you to fuck me right now.”
“That’s all I need to hear, baby. Here,” he murmured, detaching himself from you quickly. He swiftly switched spots with you, leaving the booth seat and pulling you to the edge of it. He kneeled in front of you, one hand on your thigh and the other gripping the table still. Pushing the table towards the other side of the booth, San ran his hands up and down your thighs, eyes pleading and lust filled. “It’s alright if I taste you?”
“Please, need it so bad, Sannie,” you pleaded as he slowly undid your jeans, pulling them off your legs along with your panties in one fatal swoop. You were already dripping onto the seat and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 
San pressed gentle kisses up your bare thighs, using a thumb to rub gentle circles into your clit. You gripped the top of the seat, already feeling a pulsing need in your heat as San’s mouth inched closer to it. His breath tickled the area, making your squirm, but what was worse was the look in his eyes. He stopped just in front of your cunt and looked up at you with dark, lustful eyes. In that moment, you understood San wanted this just as much as you did.
It was true. San couldn’t even recount the amount of times he pumped his fist in bed or in the shower thinking about you and your sweet pussy. And as much as it made him blush just thinking about it, he wanted nothing more in life than to bury his face in between your thighs some days, making you squirm and hearing what noises he could pull out of you. He wanted to have you, to know you on a deeper level. And what was more intimate than knowing the way a person tastes?
“Pretty,” he murmured into his direct line to heaven, his nose nudging your clit 
gently. A long, hot stripe was licked up your pussy, making you twitch expectantly. Instantly, your mind began to grow foggy and your hips bucked, San whispering, “It’s alright, just relax, baby.”
And so, you did. You let your torso fall all the way back against the booth seat and your fingers tangle in his hair, a soft grunt leaving him as he dove in deeper. His tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping inside every once in a while as a quiet hum vibrated against you. He kept up his agonizingly slow pace on your clit with his thumb, savoring that way you tasted on his tongue.
Soon, though, San needed more of you. He needed to see you squirm more, hear you moan just for him. He pulled you even closer to the edge of the booth, another grunt leaving him as he had to pull his face away for a moment. He hoisted your legs up onto his broad shoulders, instantly attaching his lips to your clit, kissing it softly before sucking it. 
A thick finger found its way inside of you, knuckle deep and wriggling. You squirmed, unable to hold back your noises. Even with just one finger, he filled you up better than you’d ever been before. He added a second finger a moment later, getting familiar with your body inside and out. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched your pussy out, mumbling something about how perfect it was.
“Fuck, San, even your fingers are big,” you slurred, back arching up in the air. San answered with another hum against your pussy, one you could tell was a shy giggle. He curled his fingers, letting his lips pulse around your clit now that he could tell you would finish soon. He slowed his pace down for a second, lifting his head to look up at you.
“You wanna cum? Want Sannie to make you cum?” He asked with a condescending pout, mirroring the one on your own lips. You nodded fervently, but it wasn’t enough for San.
“Gotta hear you say it, angel,” He furthered, eyes darkening as he held back another sly smile. You whined, kicking your legs gently. San tutted, swatting your thigh gently, “Don’t be so stubborn. Just tell Sannie.”
“Please, San, make me cum. Wanna cum all over your tongue,” you relented, hips bucking back up towards San’s face, nudging his chin against your clit. San cooed gently before diving back in. Lapping at your hole, he circled your clit relentlessly with his thumb. He wasn’t going to let you cum anywhere but his tongue.
It didn’t take long for you to do just what you’d asked for. Suddenly, your entire body began to tingle, radiating from the place between your thighs. Your toes curled and your knees tried to squeeze together, locking San’s head in place so that he could lap up every last bit of your essence that was flowing out of you. He made sure he got every last bit, taking his time to lick and kiss every last part of your slick, throbbing cunt.
Eventually, he pried your legs open and helped you sit up, smiling hard at your flushed out face. He swiped his chin with his thumb, bringing it up to his lips before licking off that last bit of you. He sighed, “Could live in that little hole forever, baby.”
You blushed gently, turning away from him shyly, prompting him to sit next to you. He grabbed you by your waist, pulling you onto his lap so your back was flush against his chest. “Hey, you can’t get all shy on me now. Where’s the feisty girl I know, hm?”
“How could I be mean after you just did that to me,” you pouted, making San laugh. 
“You’re always mean to me,” he told you dramatically, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his. Carefully, he grinded his hips up so that you could feel how hard he was. And he was. Just the taste of you had San throbbing, and the only reason he let you cum so quickly was so that he didn’t cum in his own pants. 
You gasped softly, feeling San’s cock pulsing against your ass, then again when his thick fingers began circling your clit again. He rested his chin on your shoulder, speaking so softly into your ear, “And what’s really mean is how you made me so hard, I almost came from how good you tasted. You wouldn’t leave me like this, right, baby?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning around in San’s lap. His hands went straight to your ass, cupping it and pulling you down to grind against the tent in his pants. Your eyebrows furrowed gently as your hips moved back and forth on him, concentrated huffs falling from your tongue.
“Greedy girl,” he teased, nudging your jaw with the side of his head gently, “you want my cock in you?”
You nodded, pouting at him, “Please, San. Need you in me bad.”
San just laughed, guiding your hands to unzip his pants. He lowered his voice, looking down at where your crotches met, “Alright, you can have it. But, you gotta do the work now. You really tired me out there before.”
You whined again, this time out of pure exhilaration. Wasting no time, you unzipped San’s fly, yanking down his pants and boxers as best as you could. His cock sprung out, hard and red, begging you to take it.
But first, you giggled mischievously as you gave it a few pumps, enjoying its weight in your hand. San groaned, throwing his head back and cursing under his breath. It didn’t take long for him to grow impatient. He grabbed your waist and guided you to sit up better, right above his manhood.
You moved your hips around just to antagonize San as he’d done to you so many times. He let out a frustrated groan, burying his face against your neck yet again, kissing it softly as he pleaded, “Cmon, baby, don’t make me crazy here.”
“Wanted this for so long, Sannie,” you breathed out as you finally sunk down on him, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. San chuckled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I know, baby, read all about it,” he smirked, that smug look on his face melting into a lovesick smile as you swatted at his chest. He couldn’t help but suck another bruise into the side of your neck before chiding, “Just teasing you, been thinkin’ about this for a while, too.”
He rutted up into you, hungry and needy, filling your slick heat completely. Your body twitched with each thrust, languid and deep, San’s silent confession. He was savoring his meal, taking it slowly and enjoying it wholly.
The only sound in the room was that of skin on skin, San’s hips snapping up into yours. He knew just the spot to hit inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, prompting San to speed up. The two of you, hungry and desperate to cum, moved together in a near perfect harmony. 
“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” San stuttered, trying to keep himself inside you, but it was hard with your bouncing and his thrusts, not to mention the wetness you spilled each time he left your body for a moment. San grunted in your ear, biting down on your shoulder a moment later. He was close. It didn’t help that everytime he thrusted up into you, you let out the sweetest sounds. San wanted to listen to them all the time, but even the thought of doing this again with you made him harder. 
Honestly, his cock kept getting harder with each second it spent inside you. You were so warm, so tight. San was normally a patient man, but it was hard to take his time with you.
You couldn’t be helped either. As soon as he sunk his teeth into you, you came all over him. Wetness poured out of your cunt, coating San as you cried out his name. He followed suit soon afterwards, pulling out and cumming on your thigh. Quickly, San pulled you into a hug, still heaving as a big hand came up to cradle your head. 
For a few minutes, the two of you sat together, your form still tucked into San’s warm embrace as he rocked you back and forth. You both tried to regain your breath, but every little touch made either one of you gasp softly before you turned your head the other way, embarrassingly lovesick. 
San was warm, physically and figuratively. Sweat dripped off his forehead and fell onto yours, but you couldn’t care less if it meant being held by him. It was strong, secure, surreal… it was everything you had written about before. There were days when all you needed was a firm hug, to be held without the fear of falling, somewhere warm and safe. San was all of that, and you could feel it now. It wasn’t just something you wrote about anymore. It was real.
San noticed the face you made when you were thinking and his heart rate picked up. Was it not good? Did he disappoint you? He nudged your head with his shoulder, pouting, “What’s wrong? Was it not good?”
“What? No! It was amazing, I just… I like you a lot. And I like that I don’t have to imagine things anymore… Well, that is if you want to continue this,” you trailed off, blabbering embarrassedly. Maybe all he wanted was a hookup. Uneasiness settled into your features while amusement settled into San’s.
“Silly girl,” he scoffed, enamored by everything you were, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
Your eyebrows shot up and your heart fluttered. You were never one to get so worked up so easily, but San had a way of making it happen. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” you mirrored, acting coy now. San cupped your face, dimples on full display as he smiled at you, meeting your gaze. He leaned in and gave you his first real kiss of the night. Your lips molded together perfectly, San’s tongue swiping across your lower lip occasionally. You felt his warm cheeks against yours, which made you giggle sweetly. San’s heart melted.
The boy pulled away a moment later, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Does that answer your question, baby?”
You snorted in response, shaking your head bashfully. You wanted to hear him say it. San rolled his eyes in response, his hands moving down your back to rest on either side of your ass. Still, he smiled and whispered, “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend.”
You sighed sweetly, unable to hold back the big smile on your face. San delivered a little spank to your ass, playful and teasing, “Happy now?”
You nodded, allowing a little squeal of excitement to leave you. “Very happy, Sannie. Very happy,” you whispered back, laying your head on his shoulder to look around the dark diner. 
Just then, your eyes spotted a little red light up in the corner of the diner, seemingly connected to a security camera. You jumped, whisper yelling at San, “Fuck! Fuck, the cameras, San!”
San jumped as soon as you did, following your gaze up to the security camera. He mirrored your panic for just a moment before pulling you further into the booth, pulling his jacket off to cover up your still bare bottom half. 
And just as you thought you were going to have a heart attack, San laughed, and somehow, the uneasiness melted away. He ruffled your hair playfully, moving you off his lap and onto the seat before zipping his pants back up. He stood up, leaning down to your level, “I'll go take care of it, honey. Just clean up and get dressed. And finish your shake,” he told you, motioning to the table where your half empty, half melted chocolate shake sat.
But as soon as he turned around, he turned back and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before scurrying off to the office, ready to delete the footage. You couldn’t help but smile knowing San would take care of it. What a dream boy.
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thewidowsledger · 5 months ago
Text
Looking Out For Two
© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
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Pairings: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader
Word count: 5.6k
Tags | Warnings: +18, Natasha has a penis, pregnant reader, brief smut, pregnancy, daddy kink, Wanda being a Natasha hater, dark Natasha if you squint, violence, organ trafficking, angst, bad writing
Author's Note: This is not proofread y'all so I might edit, please excuse my silly and stupid mistakes; English is not my first language. A friend requested this to me, they said they requested it to a writer here but unfortunately they went on hiatus, so here I am bringing their ideas to life, xo.
MINI SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
You stared at Natasha in disbelief, hurt and anger warring inside of you as you watched her settle in your shared bed.
The words echoed in your mind.
I am with a child Nat…your child.
And suddenly all of the emotions and doubts and fears that you had been pushing aside came rushing back to the surface.
You paced nervously in your shared bathroom. You had taken not one, but three pregnancy tests, just to be sure. Each one showed the same result: 2 lines=positive. The news had your heart racing. You knew Natasha was coming back today, and the timing of these tests was undeniably nerve-wracking.
"Fuck this…this can't be."
Just as you were contemplating how to break the news, JARVIS’s calm, artificial voice filled the room through the speakers. "Miss Y/L/N, the team has returned. Your partner Agent Romanoff is back."
Panic set in as you realized Natasha could walk in at any moment. You scrambled to hide the pregnancy tests, fumbling with them in your haste. Shoving them into a drawer, you quickly composed yourself, though your heart continued to race.
Before you could even make it through the door Natasha stepped into your shared room, her expression hard and distant. She barely glanced at you as she set her bags down. "Hey," she said curtly.
Your eyes suddenly lost its light when you were welcomed by her cold demeanor. This wasn't the welcome you were used to. Typically, when Natasha came home, she'd greet you with a rose or a small souvenir, accompanied by her warm kisses and affectionate hugs. Sometimes, she would throw you over her shoulder and you ended up tied up in your shared bed. On occasions when you were the one returning from a mission, she would shower you with kisses and hugs the moment you stepped through the door. Sometimes she would even pick you up directly from the mission site, bringing you back to a room meticulously prepared with rose petals on the bed and a luxurious bathtub filled with rose petals and wine. Those gestures always made you feel cherished and loved.
But now, it is different.
"I uhm, I made you cookies baby and your favorite hot chocolate. I know how much you missed them, you know the last time we called…" You scrambled through your words as you noticed Natasha eye you like a predator watching its prey, she slowly dropped her bags and walked towards you.
You were just wearing one of her shirts that is oversized to you and a pink underwear. She reached your face, it was oh-so-gentle, her thumb brushing your cheek, as if you're going to break. She hummed as you talked and scrambled your words. You were falling for her once again as you stared at her eyes…you watched as her eyes slowly dilated. Your eyes grew bigger with panic, but when you were about to pull out from her embrace that's when her other hand gripped your ass and immediately pulled you with a bruising kiss. You moaned, gripping her biceps as her tongue fought its way to your mouth. You felt her hips and her hardened length bucked towards your throbbing core.
"I’ll take a shower." She said as she pulled away, leaving you on edge. She moved past you, heading straight to the bathroom without another word or touch.
You were left alone, gasping for air with an aching heart and a confused mind not to mention the needy ache on your throbbing core. But you immediately brushed your feelings off, you gave her a benefit of the doubt. Missions can be tough at times, you think to yourself so you just went to your shared closet and grabbed some fresh clothes for her to use, you also put some pajamas for yourself.
Couple of minutes after, you went about preparing the bed, expecting Natasha to rest after her shower or maybe you can still talk, you think to yourself once again.
What if she didn't want this?
You screw your eyes shut as you fluff the pillows and tidying up the sheets on your shared bed.
Maybe I’ll just move out and not tell her about it. I’ll just raise our child alone and…I—
You were standing by the bed, lost in your thoughts, when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. You let out a small gasp, startled by the unexpected embrace.
Natasha smirked against your neck as she felt you jump a little in surprise. She enjoyed the way your body reacted to her touch, and the way you were always on edge whenever she was around.
"I don't remember you wearing this pajamas before I got in the shower, hm?" She whispered seductively, she almost growled in your ear. "You seem distracted, baby."
"Daddy can fix that."
"B-but, wait, Natty, love? Can we talk?"
Natasha was on a mission to make you forget about whatever it was that was on your mind, to make you forget about anything else but her. Her kisses and touches were relentless as she continued to explore your body with her cold hands fresh from the shower, slender fingers digging into your waist before going under your shirt and slowly reaching for your nipples.
"We need to talk," you gasped out, trying to push her away. But it was like trying to move a boulder—she was really determined, like she always is.
"No talking," she whispered against your neck. "Just us."
"Nat, please…" You whined as she soothe her tongue that's gently lapping over yet another mark she just made on your skin.
"Please what, baby?" She smirked, when she felt you tried to pull away, she pressed herself firmly against your back.
"We need to tal—"
"Hm, but we're talking now, love. Aren't we?" Not letting you finish your words.
Natasha watched you as you pulled away from her grasp, her expression betraying no emotion as you pleaded with her to talk. She then chuckled low in her throat, clearly enjoying the way you were pushing her away. Her smirk grew wider as she sensed your frustration.
"Come now, love," she said, her voice dripping with false concern. "Is there really something so important that we need to talk about right this instant? I'm so tired after that mission, I'd rather just relax with you."
Frustration and anger bubbled inside of you, and you lost it.
"No Natasha! We need to talk now," you almost screamed, your voice filled with desperation. "This can't wait."
Natasha paused for a moment, her eyes flashing with irritation as you screamed at her saying her full name. She was not used to it, and for being disobeyed, let alone shouted at.
"And why can't it wait, huh?" she asked, her voice cold and calm as she leaned back against the bed. "It's late and I'm tired. The mission was exhausting and I’ll just sleep now."
You stared at Natasha in disbelief, hurt and anger warring inside of you as you watched her settle in your shared bed.
The words echoed in your mind.
I am with a child Nat…your child.
And suddenly all of the emotions and doubts and fears that you had been pushing aside came rushing back to the surface.
As you opened your eyes, you immediately noticed the absence of Natasha beside you. Groggy and still half-asleep, you looked around the room, searching for any sign of her. But she was nowhere to be found. You sat up in bed, feeling a wave of nausea wash over you. You rushed to the bathroom and barely made it in time to throw up into the toilet. As you knelt there, feeling weak and dizzy, you realized that you hadn't felt nauseous like this since...since you were pregnant.
After a few minutes, you rinsed out your mouth and stood up, feeling the room spin around you. You braced yourself against the wall, taking deep breaths to steady yourself.
Suddenly, the voice of JARVIS broke through the silence. "Agent Y/L/N, I have been informed that the Avengers have been summoned for a mission today. Agent Romanoff is currently in the meeting room now together with the team."
As you sat there, trying to process the information that JARVIS had given you, the artificial intelligence noticed your distressed state. "Is everything alright, Agent Y/L/N? Do you need me to call Agent Romanoff?"
You quickly shook your head, trying to hide the panic that had surged through you at JARVIS's suggestion. "No, no, that's alright," you said quickly. "I'm fine, really. There's no need to call her. I’ll be there in a minute."
You silently cursed the presence of JARVIS in your room. "Stupid AI," you muttered to yourself. "Why does he have to be installed everywhere in the compound?"
You breathe, touching your tummy before you proceed to clean the bathroom, the sight of the toilet with your puke making your stomach churn, but you pushed through the nausea and cleaned it thoroughly anyway. Once you were done, you cleaned yourself and moved to the bedroom and quickly dressed yourself, putting on your mission gear. Your eyes fell upon the box of cookies that you had made for Natasha. They sat there, untouched, you felt your heart ache once again and a tear rushing down your cheek. You grabbed several of the cookies and stuffed some into your mouth.
As you walked at the compound Wanda saw you, she noticed the tears streaming down your face. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" she asked, her words carefully chosen.
"My cookies are good, right?" You asked between sobs.
Wanda stood there, stunned by your question and your emotional response, she carefully chose her words to avoid upsetting you further. "Of course they taste good, love," she replied. "Where's Nata—"
But before she could say anything more, you immediately shoved a handful of cookies into her mouth with your free hand, not wanting to hear the name she's about to mention. Wanda's eyes widened in surprise as she tried to speak, but her words were muffled by your sweet cookies.
As you cried and leaned against Wanda, she patiently let you rest on her shoulder. Even with her mouth still filled with your cookies, she gently reached up to pat your head, offering what comfort she could.
"Shh, it's okay," she tried to comfort you, her words slightly muffled by the food in her mouth.
As your tears began to subside, Wanda gently spoke up. "Hey, Y/N, I think they're waiting for us in the Quinjet now." You nodded and managed to compose yourself and brush off the last remaining crumbs of the cookies out of your suit.
The two of you started making your way towards the Quinjet when you saw Maria.
"Cookie?" You offered her.
Maria looked at you and glanced at Wanda that gave her a just take it or else she'll have a tantrum look. Maria looked skeptical at first, but she knew better than to refuse. Reluctantly, she accepted the last cookie from you. Your smile widened as she ate the last crumb of the cookie.
"What's wrong with her?" Maria asked Wanda as they both trailed behind you.
Wanda's reply came in a low hiss, her irritation palpable. "I don't know! She was crying. And I am going to kill your buddy!"
You turned to look at them but just as you turned around, your eyes narrowed as you picked up on the hint of irritation in the voice of Wanda. Their words were instantly replaced with fake smiles as they noticed your suspicious glare.
As the three of you reached the Quinjet you felt a bit more steady now that you had gotten your emotions under control.
You watch Maria and Wanda get past you before you speak silently aloud, addressing the unborn child in your stomach. "Please be good to mommy okay? We're going on a mission now," you said softly. "I promise you, this will be the last one. Afterwards, I'll retire."
The words were meant as a promise to both the child growing inside you and to yourself—this mission would be your last as an agent.
Before the three of you could come in. The atmosphere onboard the Quinjet was tense as JARVIS addressed the team, scanning the three of you. The AI's voice chimed in, breaking the silence.
"There appears to be a pregnant agent among the three of you."
Wanda, Maria, and yourself froze in your tracks, exchanging nervous glances with each other. The revelation had sent a wave of trepidation through all of you.
JARVIS continued speaking.
"Furthermore, it is suggested that they must not participate in this mission. It is imperative that they rest and refrain from engaging in any strenuous activities."
You felt the weight of JARVIS' words settle upon you, the realization that you were in fact the pregnant agent in question sinking in.
"Stupid AI." You muttered as you pinch the bridge of your nose.
"That's not me, I just fucked Darcy last night." Maria held both of her hands in the air.
"What the hell? You didn't need to tell us that!" Yelena shouted in disgust.
"I told you they were doing it. Give me my 20 dollars, Sam." Tony celebrated and pointed a finger gun at the Falcon.
Sam went behind Steve and whispered, "Let me borrow 20 dollars."
"My money can wait, Cinderella!" Tony laughed as he patted Sam’s shoulder.
The moment Maria spoke up, causing the team to gag at her blunt revelation, your heart skipped a beat. Everyone's attention was suddenly drawn away from the earlier revelation of this stupid AI, and you breathed a small sigh of relief.
But as you glanced over at Natasha, you could still feel her eyes boring on you. Her gaze was intense, and you could sense her suspicion. The tension in the air was thick as the team attempted to process Maria's blunt statement.
Your heart raced in your chest as you looked at Wanda, silently pleading with her through your eyes. She picked up on your silent plea, understanding the truth that lay hidden beneath your words.
Emotional in the morning, check. Wanda began, as if ticking off a list in her mind. Cookie cravings, check.
This may not be a complete list but I know it's not me.
You watched her standing beside you, she was fidgeting but in her mind everything was just hitting the nail on the head. Then, with a moment of hesitation, Wanda closed her eyes and spoke three simple words.
"I am pregnant."
Your eyes widened in shock as Wanda spoke up. The team wasted no time in congratulating her, enveloping her in hugs and celebrations.
"You're pregnant huh?!" Yelena shrieked in excitement, she was the first to pull her in a tight hug.
"Yeah it's me!" Wanda winced slightly, feeling a pang of guilt for the lie she was covering up on your behalf.
"We have a little witch incoming, yeah?" Steve’s eyes sparkled with joy.
Tony couldn't help but chime in as well, a smirk on his face. "We didn't bet on this one, Wilson."
Sam chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, I know."
As Natasha approached Wanda to offer her congratulations, Wanda's usual soft demeanor vanished. Her anger and frustration with Natasha over the previous situation with you were evident even though she has no idea about it.
"Congratulations, Wanda." Natasha spoke gently, extending a hug.
But Wanda swiftly deflected her affection, stepping back to maintain a distance. "Save it, Natasha," she responded curtly.
Natasha, trying to shrug off Wanda's cold approach towards her, mentally blamed it on the emotions associated with pregnancy.
"Must be those pregnancy hormones," she murmured under her breath.
As the team continues to surround Wanda, she snuck a glance in your direction. You mouthed a silent "thank you" to her, acknowledging the sacrifice she had made. In turn, Wanda mouthed back a quiet, "Take care and the baby," her words carrying a deep undertone of understanding and worry.
Suddenly, Natasha walked towards you and asked, "Are you okay?" she gently touches your arm. But you ignored her question, choosing to remain silent. Your mind was elsewhere, torn between gratitude towards Wanda for what she did for you and a deep desire to keep your own pregnancy hidden from the team and even from the mother of your child.
Without responding to her, you gently shrugged her hand off your arm and moved past her, walking into the Quinjet. You avoided her gaze, not wanting to betray your emotions.
The Quinjet lifted off, leaving behind a scene of excitement and well wishes for the witch. You retreated into the corner, seeking comfort in the familiarity of your own presence.
As the aircraft ascended, you instinctively placed your hand on your stomach, gently caressing the growing life within.
The team received a mission assignment from Fury to infiltrate a hospital involved in illegal organ trafficking, targeting children. The focus was the children's wing, and the objective was to put an end to the operation. It was emphasized that no stone should be left unturned to ensure the safety of the children involved. The intel also suggested the involvement of Hydra's experimentation. While specific details about their latest projects remain undisclosed, their history in this regard is grim.
Maria approached you, her expression was serious as she sat down beside you. "Left wing, that's ours."
"And it's the center of the operation, correct?" You confirmed, a pit of anxiety knotting in your stomach.
She nodded. "That's right. The operation is taking place there. You ready for this?"
You subconsciously once again placed your hand on your stomach and took a good look at Natasha who was piloting the Quinjet.
"Yes," you murmured, though the nervous tremble in your voice gave you away.
"Guys."
Natasha, Bucky, and Bruce exchanged looks of concern as they heard Wanda's voice through their comms.
"Wanda?" they called in unison.
Bruce was the first to speak. "You shouldn't be on comms right now. You're supposed to be resting. I'll call Dr. Cho to check on you."
Wanda winced at the mention of Dr. Cho, once again reminded of the cover up she had to do…or the lie rather. She knew the truth, but she couldn't reveal it to the others, she's not in the right position to say it.
The three immediately noticed Wanda's distress and exchanged alarmed glances.
"What's wrong, Wanda?" Bruce asked.
"Where's Y/N?" Wanda hurriedly asked.
"She's out now on the mission with Maria." Bucky informed Wanda through comms.
"I knew this was going to happen. Fuck!" Wanda hissed.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Natasha's brow furrowed, barely glancing up from her mission report at the mention of your name.
"Bucky, get her back in." Wanda immediately demanded, ignoring the presence of Natasha through the comms.
Natasha’s confusion deepened, and her frustration grew as Wanda demanded someone else to get her girlfriend back to the Quinjet. "And why should he do that?"
"Just get her back in!" Wanda insisted, her voice rising slightly.
Natasha's frustration peaked, realizing Wanda was deliberately shutting her out. But she remained calm, not wanting to distress her, "Wanda, you must be tired. Right now you should be focusing on yourself and the baby. Y/N will be fine, don't worry. She's good at looking out for herself."
Wanda’s irritation boiled over, her patience wearing thin. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath as she whispered.
"She might have a hard time looking out for two."
"What? What do you mean, Wanda?" Bucky asked once more, trying to grasp the meaning behind Wanda’s words.
"Maria can handle herself just fine, Wanda. Y/N doesn't need to look out for her." Natasha responded dismissively, trying to reassure her once again that you don't need to look out for your partner.
But clearly, Natasha knows nothing.
"No, no, no, that's not what I meant, Romanoff! Your girlfriend might have a hard time looking out for herself and for the baby growing in her stomach! So right now, Romanoff I need you to get your girlfriend out on that mission before anything happens to her!" The anger of Wanda echoed through the earpiece of the three Avengers.
"I had to cover up for her earlier, I’m not the one who's pregnant, she was. She doesn't want anyone to know, even you, Natasha, ‘cause it seems like you don't have time to talk about it." Wanda gritted her teeth as she revealed the cover up she did for you.
Then suddenly an urgent call for backup was heard through the comms.
"Back up, we need back up!"
It was Maria, her voice sounding strained and her signal cutting in and out.
"Natasha! Y/N…I can't see Y/N, Y/N is taken!"
Natasha's blood ran cold at Maria's words. The word sent a shiver down her spine, and her heart thumped heavily against her chest. She clenched her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.
"No," Natasha whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. Fear and anger welled up within her as she heard the words.
Without a moment's hesitation, they heard Tony respond, "I'm on my way, Maria. I'll get there as soon as I can. And you Romanoff, you have to get your girlfriend!"
Wanda hissed harshly to Natasha through the comms, "If anything happens to my bestfriend and my niece I will kill you myself, Natasha. I will fucking kill you myself."
Natasha's jaw clenched at Wanda's harsh words. She knew she was only expressing her fear and concern for you and the baby, but the threat still stung.
She gritted her teeth and muttered a retort.
"I will kill myself if I won’t be able to save them. So save it, Wanda."
The room was eerily quiet, a chill running down Natasha's spine as she scanned her surroundings. She cautiously stepped forward, her senses on high alert. Suddenly, a figure lunged from the shadows, but Natasha was quick to react. Before they could make a move, Natasha had kicked away their weapon and delivered a swift punch to their stomach.
Another figure appeared behind her, but Natasha swiftly dodged the attack and delivered a well-placed kick to their chest.
As she fought off the attackers, Natasha unsheathed her batons, the metal gleaming in the dim light. With a flick of her wrist, she extended them and began to whirl them around, blocking attacks and delivering precise strikes to vulnerable spots. Meanwhile, she kept her other hand free, ready to use her widow bites at a moment's notice.
Natasha's heart raced as she sprinted through the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps echoing against the cold concrete. Natasha's mind went on high alert the moment she entered the room and saw you lying unconscious on the bed and a doctor preparing some medical supplies beside you. Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight, her adrenaline pumping through her veins, making her nerves tingle.
The doctor spoke up, his voice breaking the tense silence in the room.
"You finally came," he said. "Your wife's been waiting for you.”
"Who are you?!" Natasha's voice held a dangerous edge, her eyes narrowing as she focused on the doctor, her gun pointing at him.
The doctor raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, a smug look on his face as he regarded Natasha's gun pointed in his direction.
"Now, now, Romanoff," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern. "You wouldn't want to cause any distress to Mrs. Romanoff here, would you? You might wanna put that gun down."
Natasha’s grip on her gun tightened momentarily before she reluctantly began to lower it. She didn’t want to risk endangering you further by provoking him.
The doctor smirked, clearly amused by her cautiousness. He knows damn well how much power he holds now that he has you captive.
"I'm Doctor Strange. And…I am your wife's doctor for today. She's your wife right? Girlfriend? Partner..? Whore? Whatever you want but I prefer that we call her your wife, okay Romanoff?"
Natasha’s heart plummeted as he pulled out a surgical knife, her fear instantly skyrocketing.
"Don't! Do not fucking touch her, I’ll make you regret it!" she snarled, but he seemed unbothered by her threat.
Strange smirked, the glint in his eyes making Natasha's skin crawl. He began to rip your suit open, exposing your stomach.
"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, her voice shaking with anger but also fear for you.
The doctor chuckled, his expression smug as he began to apply some ultrasound gel to your stomach, his eyes glued to your bare skin.
Strange's tone was mocking as he asked Natasha a question that cut straight to her heart.
"Did you know she was pregnant?" he asked, as if he were casually inquiring about the weather.
Natasha swallowed hard, she almost choke with her words, "I uh...I didn't..."
"You didn't know until now did you?" Strange chuckled, a sadistic smirk on his face not letting her finish, "Oh, that's a shame," he taunted.
"You are a bad mother."
Natasha flinched as the words hit her, and for a moment, she was speechless. The words stung, even more than any physical blow could have.
Her mind flashed back to the night before this mission. She remembered that you had tried to talk to her, begged her to have a conversation but she dismissed you.
Now she hated herself for that, the realization hit her with a sickening weight, and she silently berated herself for her ignorance. You shouldn't be here if she listened to you.
Strange hummed as he began to move the transducer around your stomach. He looked up at Natasha, a sly smile on his face.
"I wasn't always a doctor, you know," he said, his tone almost nostalgic. "In fact," he continued, his gaze returning to the monitor. "I started out working with Hydra when my sister died."
"You might have heard of them, right? For sure you intel already informed you that. Not exactly the most upstanding group of people." He murmured.
"Oh look at that! That's your baby Romanoff!"
Natasha's eyes flickered towards the ultrasound machine, her heart pounding as she saw a life, her offspring on your stomach. The sight of the tiny, flickering image of the baby inside you softened her expression momentarily.
Strange chuckled as he watched Natasha. He leaned casually against the counter, one hand resting on the ultrasound machine before he got back to examine your stomach once again.
"As I was saying," he continued, his tone casual. "I didn't want to remain a lowly foot soldier forever," he said, his eyes narrowing. "I wanted more power, more control. So I branched out on my own."
Strange pressed the transducer deeper into your stomach, causing you to whimper in pain.
"Don’t—"
The doctor immediately pointed his finger in the air, shushing her.
He then continued, his tone nonchalant, his gaze fixed on the monitor, watching the image of your stomach intently. "I started my own precious business and then…"
"Everything I'd worked for, years of hard work and sacrifice!" he spat out, the pressure of the transducer increased and he watched how it dug deeper to your stomach on the monitor. "And you, Avengers just waltz in like they own the place and ruin it all!"
Strange paused, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. The pressure on your abdomen loosened slightly before he glanced at Natasha, his expression almost apologetic.
"Sorry," he said, his tone smoothing back to its usual calm. "I didn't mean to shout. It's bad for the baby, you know." He chuckled softly, his hand gently caressing your stomach.
Natasha's heart pounded in her chest as she watched Strange's expression shift from calm to enraged in an instant. His words and his behavior were unpredictable, and that made her more anxious. She maintained a facade of calm, her eyes never leaving you.
"Romanoff, your baby is healthy and developing just like it should. All the organs, muscles, limbs and bones are in place." He smiled, an evil one, his eyes flicking up to Natasha, wanting her to take a good look on the monitor.
Natasha's expression remained neutral, her eyes fixed on the ultrasound monitor as Strange pointed out the growing body of your baby.
"Isn't that nice?" he said, his tone clearly a mockery.
"Must be hard," with a sinister edge to his voice. "Knowing there's nothing you can do to protect what's most precious to you."
The doctor's laughter was cold and cruel. But what was truly horrifying was the way his gaze dropped to your abdomen, and he began to caress your stomach with a gesture that made Natasha's skin crawl.
"All you can do is watch and pray I don't do anything...unwanted," he repeated, his tone sickly sweet.
He then slowly grabbed the surgical knife and his eyes scanning Natasha's face for any reaction. A cunning smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he noticed her flinch.
"Oh, did that scare you?" he asked, his voice dripping with menace. "Why are you scared? You're not the one lying on this table?"
He chuckled darkly, waving the knife in front of her face.
Strange's fingers continued to play with the knife, slowly twirling it around in his hand. He seemed to take pleasure in seeing how it made Natasha uneasy. Her breath quickened and her heart pounded against her chest as she watched him.
She tried to keep her emotions in check, desperately wanting to remain calm, but the sight of the gleaming blade in his hand made her instinct scream in alarm.
Strange leaned back, the knife momentarily forgotten in his hand as he turned his attention to your still unconscious form. He moved closer to you, his fingers gently prying your eyelids open.
"Beautiful eyes," he commented, a hint of admiration in his voice. "These eyes could be a valuable asset to the right people."
Natasha's ears perked up at Strange's words, a lump forming in her throat as she realized his intentions.
"What the fuck did you say?"
"Oh, Romanoff. Your baby might hear you curse. You'll kiss your baby with that mouth?"
He moved away from examining your eyes, setting the knife down on the counter. He reached for a file that was among the various medical supplies and paperwork scattered around the room. He flipped through the pages, reading aloud to Natasha.
"Martin Joseph Novarich," he said, his eyes scanning the file. "He's just eight years old. Familiar with the name?”
Strange continued to read from the file, oblivious to Natasha's inner struggle.
"The boy has a rare genetic disorder that affects his eyesight," he said. "He needs a corneal transplant to restore his vision, and the process requires a perfect donor match. And his father, the president, is willing to do anything to save his only child.”
Strange smirked, his eyes scanning Natasha's face.
"Think about it," he said, his tone almost teasing. "Your wife's eyes could give the president's son a new lease on life. Or her liver could help someone else in desperate need."
Her anger flared at his words, her muscles tensing as she struggled to control her emotions when he started listing off your organs one by one, suggesting that it could be used for donation. The thought of your organs being harvested like some kind of donor bank was almost too much to bear, it made her skin crawl, it made her blood boil.
"And let's not forget," Strange added, a sly note to his voice, "that she might have more than just one healthy organ."
"She's an agent," he pointed out. "She probably leads a healthy lifestyle, so her organs are likely in great shape. And I think yours too, Romanoff.”
Strange suddenly put on a fake frown, pretending to be remorseful as he took a glance on your abdomen.
"Oh, my apologies," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "I almost forgot about the poor, innocent child in your wife's stomach." He grabbed a cloth and wiped the gel out of your skin’s abdomen.
He then trailed the knife over your stomach, Natasha's breath hitched in her throat.
"Don't," she hissed, her eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare.”
The doctor continued to trail the surgical knife and then he finally nicked the skin on your abdomen, Natasha's face contorted with anger and horror.
"Oops…too late. Just a small one, don't worry." Strange chuckled darkly, his eyes locking with Natasha's. Her eyes trailing between the knife and on your stomach.
A loud booming sound rang outside the room, startling both Strange and Natasha. Seeing an opportunity, Natasha reached for the gun she had to put down earlier. She aimed it at Strange, who slowly raised his hands in surrender.
In a desperate move, Strange pushed your bed towards Natasha, trying to interfere with her aim and make her miss. However, Natasha was too quick and too skilled. She pulled your bed towards her and immediately placed your unconscious state behind her back making sure that your bed was within range.
She immediately turned when she heard a clinking sound. Natasha fired, the bullet hitting Strange in the shoulder.
"I missed." Natasha sighed as she placed the gun at your bed. "That was a very dumb move doctor."
Natasha's voice was icy as she spoke, her eyes locked on Strange's face.
"You know what, doctor?" Natasha set the gun down on your bed. Her hand moved to your cheek, gently caressing it before moving slowly and gently over your stomach, wiping away some of the blood that slowly dripped there.
Natasha walked over to where the doctor was cowering, a surgical knife in her hand. She knelt in front of him trailing the knife in the wounded shoulder.
"I am a great shot when I'm pissed."
She then held his shoulder ignoring his startled yelp of pain, she deftly used the knife to dig deeper into his shoulder, intent on retrieving the bullet lodged there. She extracted it from his flesh.
As she dug deeper, working to extract the bullet, Strange cried out in pain. But instead of feeling any remorse, Natasha felt a deep sense of satisfaction at seeing him suffer. She knew she had the upper hand now, and she was going to make him pay for what he had done to you.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" she muttered, her eyes fixed on his face. “I told you, I’ll make you regret...”
"Touching..."
"My..."
"Wife! "
With a final tug, Natasha finally got the bullet with a satisfied smirk briefly crossing her face. Natasha picked up the gun from your bed, loaded the bullet back in the chamber and spun it slowly with a flick of her wrist.
She turned her gaze back to Strange, who was still reeling from the pain. Her voice was low and dangerous as she spoke.
"And doctor," she said, the gun pointed straight at his head.
"I don't waste a bullet. Ever."
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kaylasficrecs · 7 months ago
Text
remus lupin recs
by tired hands | au, one shot, fluff | @luveline
"it's gonna hurt" | drabble, smut | @ddejavvu
it's time to go | series | @godlessandwrecked
rude due to the upcoming full moon | imagine, flangst | @moonstruckme
you frustrate me incredibly, sweetheart | imagine, fluff | @sincerelyyycece
make eye contact when talking | au, imagine, fluff | @bruisedboys
poor bunny | one shot, flangst | @robynlilyblack
red | one shot, flangst | @jamespottersdaisy
alive and true | imagine, flangst | @nincompoopydoo
scars | imagine, fluff | @crimsntwlip
back to december | imagine, flangst | @ur-local-anti-hero
three simple words | imagine, fluff | @acciotwinz
never his | one shot, trifecta (smut/fluff/angst) | @weasleykisses
kisses | imagine, fluff | @sssiriusly
we fell in love in december | drabble, fluff | @remusluvr
nothing but the necklace | imagine, fluff | @reysdriver
heart shaped | imagine, fluff | @luveline
names in phones | au, drabble, fluff | @ddejavvu
sunday roast | drabble, fluff | @reysdriver
new discoveries | au, imagine, fluff | @amourane
hates her outfit | drabble, fluff | @inkdrinkerworld
the way i see you | one shot, fluff | @g1rld1ary
talk too much | au, imagine, fluff | @inkdrinkerworld
clandestine | drabble, fluff | @spncvr
long and stressful morning | drabble, fluff (slight angst) | @madwcman
rubbing your back | imagine, fluff | @daenysx
fix it | imagine, flangst | @wingedhallows
dress shopping | drabble, suggestive fluff | @ddejavvu
over the influence | imagine, fluff | @bruisedboys
kiss me really nicely | imagine, fluff | @in-between-thighs
no i like you | imagine, fluff | @moonstruckme
scott street | imagine, angsty flangst | @spncvr
routine | imagine, flangst | @sp1rit-realm
"you are the one person i care for..." | imagine, soft fluff | @hello-everyfandom
terrified | imagine, flangst | @inkdrinkerworld
blood quill | imagine, flangst, comfort | @jasmines-library
with migraine!reader | drabble, fluff | @remushrts
gives you your first kiss | imagine, fluff | @luveline
with all due respect | imagine, flangst | @writesowhatnext
potter!reader | series | @mallowsweetmiri
chocolate-coated hearts | au, imagine, fluff | @sun-kissy
after the storm | one shot, flangst | @pretentious-blonde
it's nice to have a friend | one shot, flangst | @jamespottersdaisy
sweet nothing | one shot, flangst | @jamespottersdaisy
super blue moon | imagine, flangst | @ellecdc
yours | one shot, flangst | @pretentious-blonde
mouse | one shot, fluff | @siriuslovebot
sweetness | imagine, fluff | @pretentious-blonde
casually domestically dominant | imagine, fluff | @luveline
james's neighbor | imagine, fluff | @moonstruckme
1K notes · View notes
sweetteainthesummerx · 12 days ago
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packing it up!
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★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
nhl masterlist !
series masterlist!
pairings: popstar!reader x quinn hughes
warnings: fluff, suggestive content, i also changed one word in the lyrics to fit the fic better
summary: summer at the lake house, and quinn realizes how completely in love with you he is.
song: packing it up by gracie abrams
word count: 2.1 k
notes: ideas from this ask!
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
quinn glances at you from the rented car, your hair blowing angelically around your face. he thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, even as you grimace and unstick your locks from your lipgloss.
his hand is heavy and warm on your thigh, your much smaller hand tucked over it.
he's both nervous and excited: you're the first girl he's ever brought to the lake house, the only one he's ever loved like this.
when quinn and you finally pull up to the lake house, luke and jack run out to greet you guys.
they offer hugs and brotherly kisses on the cheek to you, jack's girlfriend following close behind, the two of you reuniting with a squeal, chattering about some reality tv show.
his parents are at the door, hugging their oldest and his mom pulls you into a tight embrace too. jim tucks you under his arm, wanting to show you his new grill.
ellen and jim, who along with the rest of his brothers, met you at the hughes bowl game. technically, his mom had met you over facetime a week after you'd made it official.
at first, he could tell that she'd been a little wary of your public status and insane amount of fame but after getting to know you and seeing how much you cared for her son, she'd accepted you into the family with open arms. his dad liked you from the beginning, because you made chocolate chip cookies and looked at quinn like he hung the moon.
that night is busy and full of chatter, months worth of catching up finally done. you head up to shower and bed first, and jim slaps quinn's back as he gets up from where he was playing video games with his brothers for a drink of water.
"she's good for you son. don't let her get away," he grins, and quinn laughs, shaking his head.
"i don't plan to, dad. don't worry."
nearly an hour later when he drags his heavy feet up to his room and opens his door, he sees you and is suddenly wide awake.
you're on his bed, wearing a set of pink cotton pajamas, the thin and sparse material almost as soft as your skin under the warm over head light. you glow, you're prescence temptingly familiar.
he leans on the frame of the door just to watch you in your element.
your pretty, smooth legs are crossed, propping up your guitar as you softly pick at the strings with quick-practiced fingers and hum under your breath.
the first ever time he'd listened to you sing he'd realized that you were probably a genius. he'd never really been into music all that much as a kid, but he vaguely remembered you on the television at his friend's house and seeing posters of you everywhere.
at such a young age, you'd been famous, making millions of dollars and working with huge brands; yet here you are, hair still a little damp and looking like one of his teenage wet-dreams.
oh, if only 16-year-old quinn hughes could see this. actually, he'd probably be yelling at himself to join you on the bed.
"hey, baby." he murmurs, and you look up, smiling with tired eyes.
you let him set your guitar carefully into it's case, and he offers you soft kisses that make you giggle and squirm before he goes to the bathroom to wash up.
you're under the covers when he returns, and he crowds into you, shoving his face into your neck and breathing the familiar smell you your skin and bodywash.
he pushes his head into your chin as you laugh, soft voice saying something about acting like a dog, but he doesn't care.
he wants to merge into one with you, as weird as it sounds. being close to you physically is almost not enough. he feels like he can't breathe and that you're fresh air all at the same time, affection for you clogging thick in his throat.
you rub his scalp and his temples and his bones melt, his weight flattening you to the mattress.
he knows he's too heavy, but he can't bear the thought of moving even an inch from you, so his hands finds the curve of your waist, lifting you easily so you're chest to chest, your body like a weighted blanket on him.
"goodnight, quinny," you press a kiss into the little space in between his clavicles, the little dip pale under the stream of moonlight through the crack of the curtains.
he returns the favour to your guitar-calloused fingertips, and the two of you breathe in tandem as sleep finds you.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
the next afternoon, after a big breakfast and a lazy morning, all of you usher out to the boat, eager to catch any droplet of that good, good michigan sunshine. ellen sends you all off with a cooler of drinks and sandwiches.
after quinn sets down the cooler and the other boys are figuring out the logistics of the boat, he tucks his big hands under your armpits and lifts you onto the wobbling vessel easily.
you kiss his cheek in thanks, and once everyone is settled down, jack's girlfriend whips out a humongous bottle of sunscreen and begins to slather her boyfriend down.
quinn sighs as you fill your hands with the sun cream, and turns grudgingly, back muscles shifting under pale skin.
he hisses as the cold liquid, his fingers coming to smack at the side of your thigh playfully when you laugh.
he helps you apply it too; you push at his head when his hands wander and you flush a sunburnt pink.
through out the day, as jack, luke and quinn take turns driving and wakeboarding, you tanned with jack's girl, planting yourself on your boyfriend's lap whilst he drove and tucked yourself on the seat with your book.
as the sun was setting and the boys were still insisting on wakeboarding, the music from the speakers was blasting music (once in a while, one of your songs would come on, and the whole boat would cheer, much to your embarrassment) as you nestled into your seat between quinn's legs, your back pressed up to his bare chest.
it was chilly on the water, quinn's hoodie and body heat around you your only source of warmth.
luke complains about all of the pda as the four of you laugh at his whining, and quinn rubs your goosebump-littered thighs.
you sigh happily, utterly exhausted but so, so content.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
quinn watches from his seat on the couch as you and his mother, the two most important women in his life, laugh together while cooking dinner.
ellen tells you something, and you giggle, glancing at him. he realizes he's grinning unconciously.
honestly, his mom is probably roasting him or telling an embarrassing story, but he doesn't mind. it's oddly domestic seeing you with his family, and he's delighted how well you fit in.
later that night, as the you settle in for bed, he asks what you were talking about with his mom.
your eyes glitter with adoration as you cup his jaw. he leans into your touch, his own hand resting over yours.
"you," you tell him so earnestly, and his heart fills with so much love.
three words rest on his tongue, but you yawn sleepily, tucking yourself into his side.
he lays awake for a few moments, the words heavy like a treasure box full of gold, ready to burst at any moment.
he is so, so in love with you.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
three months later, when the air in vancouver is bordering on brisk, and when he finds you wearing his sweaters more often than not, you sit him down after dinner, passing him your laptop.
"i have something for you," you tell him nervously. he doesn't like seeing you unsettled, so he sweeps his thumb over your cheek until you relax.
he presses play on the video, and an acoustic guitar starts playing.
your angelic voice joins in, and he automatically bites back a smile.
i hope that you get everything you could ask for the cold side of your pillow, a real break for once good peppermint tea with cool wind on the drive home with no traffic for miles, for spring to come
the video fades into what he thinks are snippets of your first few months together immortalized on your camcorder: him ordering your coffee, walking in stanley park in the early march, him tying your skates on your third date, him driving, relaxed with the windows down on the way to the lake house.
i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's just when you happened that's right when you happened got so damn close to packing it up but that's just when you happened and then you happened then you happened
it hits him at the chorus: this song is about him. you wrote a love song about him. he looks at you, and you're a little pink, still fidgeting. he hopes that his awe-struck expression is enough for now, because he has no words.
now i'm red in the face, and shy all of a sudden you move, i move, it's something, you fit perfectly and replace every game, you push none of my buttons and hold me through the morning, kinda new for me
the next clip streams seamlessly onto the screen. it's taken shakily through a screen door, the two of your figures swaying in a slow dance on the porch, the sun rising on the docks in the distance.
he relishes in how good the two of you look together, how right.
as the chorus plays, you tell him, "i think your mom took that,"
and he laughs voice broken with emotion, because of course his mom could tell how absolutely devoted he was to you.
i hope that you get my dark sense of humor sunsets in the summer with your family don't stop talking to me, maybe stay here forever we could die here together, I'd do it happily
around the campfire, the grainy-filtered camera pans to each member of his family, everyone laughing and chattering as they roasted marshmallows. the sun was a pretty orange against the purple-pink backdrop of the sky.
i'll hold you, i'll know you i'll never leave out the back door and i'd love to complete you hope you get all you could ask for
he watches with teary eyes a video of the two of you on the boat, in your own world. you're wrapped up in his hoodie and his arms as he rests his cheek on your head. he says something to you, and you throw your head back laughing, leaning back onto his shoulder.
'cause i swear that i wasn't looking for much but that's just when you happened that's right when you happened got so damn close to packing it up but that's right when you happened mm, then you happened
the last clip is of him, wearing a thin shirt and shorts, back to the camera. he's standing on the docks, hand reaching behind him to you.
your hand, he recognizes, slips into his perfectly and he turns, a devastatingly smitten look on his face as he looks to you.
when the music ends, he's pouting a little to keep from crying.
normally he doesn't get emotional easily, but you make it so easy for him to be vulnerable.
you smile, a little wobbly but gorgeous as ever as he tugs you onto his lap, burying his face into your neck.
he's sure you can feel his teary eyes and warm cheeks, but he doesn't mind.
"thank you, thank you," he mutters into your skin, clearing his throat when his voice cracks, "no one has ever done...anything like that for me before."
"you like it?" you ask, delighted.
"i love it, sweetheart," he tells you, kissing every inch of you he can.
those three words are back on his tongue, and if he's honest, they never left.
"i love you." he tells you steadily, his voice gravelly from the sheer force of his feelings.
you gasp a little, and he shakes his head: how could you ever doubt that he loves you with his entire being?
between tear-wet kisses and sweet, feather-soft caresses, you tell him you love him too.
he's never been too good with words, at expressing how he feels, but for you?
he'd tell you he loves you every single day.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
501 notes · View notes
essiemclaren · 4 months ago
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watch me win
in which lando was paid to fake date y/n!
pairing: mean!lando x reader
tw: cursing and rude behavior
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day 1
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lando's text with reader
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reader's post on twitter/x
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lando's text with reader
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lando's text with his friends
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-
He said yes to his friend Stroll’s offer, not because he needed the money. He was doing it for fun and because he was bored. The dare to date her for the whole month of August sounds like the perfect distraction. The challenge was simple: make her fall for him and then crush her heart on the last day. It was cruel, but that’s what made it exciting for him. Lando already had a list in his mind of all the dates they would go on, each carefully planned to make her fall deeper for him. He wasn’t playing the attentive boyfriend yet—no, he was testing the waters, seeing how easily she could be swayed. “Oh, I’m a very good listener,” he said in the middle of their conversation. In his mind, he added, “I’ll even keep notes of all your little secrets and insecurities.” Of course, he meant every word, but not in the way she thought.
After their first outing, he only knew the basics: her favorite color, the subjects she hated, and that she loved chocolate croissants. But even these small details were enough to start his list. “Eager to please,” he noted when she laughed too hard at his jokes. “Seeks approval,” he added after she asked him what he thought about her favorite book. It was almost too easy. Lando took pleasure in knowing that every sweet word he whispered to her was a lie, every smile a part of his act.
He watched her closely, mentally preparing for the deeper truths she would eventually reveal. Each fact she shared was a potential weapon in his arsenal. She had no idea that he was already plotting how to use her own words against her. The game had just begun, and she was already falling into his trap. She was just a pawn in his game, a temporary amusement to stave off his boredom. Lando couldn’t wait for the day when he would reveal the truth. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction imagining her face crumpling in realization. This was going to be fun and he is determined to win.
--
a/n: NOT THE UPDATE YOU WERE WAITING FOR IM SORRY 💔 but this has been sitting in my drafts for too long! to the anon who requested this, im sorry for delaying this PLEASE FORGIVE ME 😩🙏 but i hope i got your request right 🩷
i think im going to make this as a short series! let me know if you like this!!! 😩 ask for a tag 🫶
love from essie 🫂
737 notes · View notes
subbmissivesuccubus · 1 year ago
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Bully- Part 1
Summary: Your bully's, Gojo and Geto, find out an embarrassing secret of yours and will never let you live it down. But maybe, you don't want them to.
Disclaimer: 18+ fic. Gojo X Fem reader X Geto. Humiliation kink. Free use kink. Gojo and Geto being mean. Bully Geto and Gojo. Dub-con warning. It is subtly implied that reader wants and enjoys what's happening to her, but the boys don't care to ask for consent.
a/n: Sorry it took so long wah but here's part one to the series. I plan to write many more cause damn it is so fun haha. I promise, the next part will have all the gratuitous smut and ruthless fucking this premise deserves. Consider this an appetizer <3
Taglist: @bisexuawolfsalt @candycandy00 @nekonanamii @sirimiripetrichor @collectionofdolls @dreamsxmerci
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You sighed as you walked towards your classroom, dragging your feet, knowing full well what was waiting for you. It was the end of the day and it was your turn to clean up the classroom and just your luck- you were paired up with the two people you couldn't stand.
Gojo and Geto. The two 'strongest' sorcerers of your school. Their reputation preceded them. One of them was the prodigal son of a famous family with a deadly technique while the other had an incredibly useful and powerful skill as well. Everyone disliked them to some extent, but nobody could deny that the Jujutsu world would be worse without them.
Which is why it always confused you as to why these two powerful men seemed to love bullying you.
They were never malicious but damn if they weren't annoying. They loved to tease and prank you, joking about how weak you were and how you couldn't do anything by yourself. Forget the fact that you were actually quite strong and capable- but compared to them- everyone was weak.
But they seemed to enjoy bullying you especially even if there were classmates who were of lower grade than you. Stealing your drink right before you were going to take it from the vending machine, taking unflattering pictures of you and distributing it, embarrassing you in front of strangers by treating you like a dumb baby in front of them, making loud sex noises if you were on the phone with someone, tossing away your books and stealing your money-
Gojo spanking your ass casually a few times, Geto licking off some chocolate that was smeared next to your lips like it was a normal thing to do and even that one time when they cornered you in the hallway and convinced you to let them grope your boobs:
"If you let us squeeze your tits, we'll leave you alone for a week~" Gojo had said, wangling his fingers comically as they both stared at your chest like perverts. The offer was too good to give up which led to them squeezing your clothed tits for ten second each before they left, laughing at how easy it was to use you. And of course, they continued to bother you anyway.
You could have made a complaint to the higher ups about their behavior, something your friends have told you to do but you refused. You didn't want to be the wuss who was running to the elders over something so childish when everyone has an important job to do. Dealing with some bullying was easy compared to fighting to the death with some curses.
Besides, if you reported on them...
You steeled yourself before opening to the door to the classroom, met with the sight you expected: Gojo and Geto, lounging around, not doing any work as they waited for you to do it for them because, in their words: 'the weaklings need to put in more effort'.
But what you were not expecting to see was your phone in Gojo's hand using earplugs that he had connected to the device. You knew you left your phone in the locker assigned to you in the hallways which meant these two managed to pick the lock and take it. But the anger over that was dwarfed by your sudden realization:
The way they were looking at you as you closed the door, giving you a shocked look but you could tell there was an underlying hint of pure glee.
Uh oh.
"Give me back my-"
You yelped as Geto suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, barely giving you a second to collect yourself before he wrapped his arms around your neck, catching you in a choke-hold. Before you could even react, he pulled your back against him and manhandled you as he sat on a classroom bench and forced you to sit between his legs, wrapping said legs around you. You were completely caught, your nails doing nothing even as you dug it into his arms.
"Holy fuck!" Gojo explained, eyes wide and a huge grin on his face as he continued to listen to the audio on your phone, looking over at you and Geto opposite of the table he was sitting on, "You're a perverted freak, aren't you?"
"Give it back!" you snapped, grunting in annoyance as you tried to break out of Geto's hold but the man simply laughed as he held you tighter, his legs not budging.
"This is some nasty stuff!" Gojo continued, "Who knew a weakling like you would be such a masochistic slut~" he removed the earbuds from the socket and increased the volume as he confirmed what you had feared:
"Yeah? you like that don't you? Little slut~" a man's voice echoed throughout the room from your phone speakers, "Everybody looking at you as I fuck this sloppy little pussy~ Oh this cunt is dripping for me- did you like being spanked in front of them so much?"
It was an erotic audio you had saved on your phone, one of many that you enjoyed in private. You had even saved it under non-suspicious names which meant that the boys were digging through your files to find something- and they did.
"This isn't even the only one we heard, you know." Gojo explained as he dangled the phone in front of you mockingly, "What was it again? A girl getting humiliated by her teacher in front of her classmates-"
"A girl getting groped by her boyfriend on a crowded train." Geto recollected, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his hot breath dance against your skin.
"Being used as a free-use toy by a group of guys~" Gojo said, a giant shit eating grin on his face, "Seems like this one has a humiliation kink~"
"I'm not surprised." Geto said, leaning into your ear and blowing into it, making you gasp and jump, "No wonder she never reported us to the principle for all the times we preyed on her. She was probably enjoying it."
"Oh!" Gojo said like he just realized it, "Was that why? Was your pussy growing wet every time we bullied you, little slut?"
"Fuck you." you spat out, both of the men laughing in response.
"Yeah, I bet you wanted us to fuck you." Geto growled into your ear, your shiver not going unnoticed by him, "You're fucking loving this~"
"Why don't we check?" Gojo suggested, cutting off anything you might have said, his hands inching towards your belt, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, "Let's see for ourselves if we made your pussy wet~"
"Gojo-"
"That's a great plan!" Geto interrupted, laughing as he tightened his hold your your neck, making you gasp, "Take those pants off. So baggy and loose- what a waste of a nice ass."
"I agree." Gojo said, finger now running over the metal of your belt, "it hides so much. With what I felt everytime I've spanked you- your pants do you no favors."
"Don't you- fucking dare!" You choked out, face turning slightly red from the lack of air and from Gojo slowly starting to fiddle with your belt.
"Oh, what are you gonna do about it, little slut?" Gojo teased, licking his lips as his long, lithe fingers started to tug at the leather of your belt, "Look at your fucking face- that look in your eyes? You're loving this."
"No- I'm not- fuck-" you sputtered out, failing to convey your frustrations. You couldn't stand these two assholes. Constantly picking on you and thinking they were so high and mighty- treating you like a bug on their path. So smug and narcissistic and not caring about anyone but themselves-
But as much as you'd hate to admit it, you couldn't deny that your body was throbbing. Everytime they bullied you, you felt that heat. Your heart-rate quickened and your pussy would grow wet, leaving you a confused mess every-time you got bullied. When it first happened, you didn't understand what was happening. Through some internet searching, you found those audios and realized you weren't the only one out there.
A masochist with a humiliation kink.
And without them knowing, the two guys you hate were fulfilling those fantasies for you.
Well now, they were more than aware.
"Come on, little bitch~" Geto cooed into your ear, his silky voice making you shudder, "Why settle with these audios when you can experience the real thing?"
"I...I..." you panted, heat rushing to your face and your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel your pussy dampen and had no doubt that if Gojo actually took your pants off, they'd see you be wet and needy.
"Too slow~" Gojo suddenly said, unbuckling your belt in a matter of seconds before ripping it off of you just as fast, throwing it aside. You yelped as you instinctively struggled, Geto laughing behind you as he tightened his hold on you even more, rendering you helpless. Gojo laughed as well, his bright blue eyes peeking from behind his glasses as you could see the gleam of excitement in them.
"You excited, little bitch?" Gojo cooed, licking his lips as his hands started trailing up your leg, running over the fabric of your pants as he inched up higher and higher. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, a rush of heat coursing through you.
"He asked you a question." Geto said, clicking his tongue as you refused to say anything, "Weren't you taught any manners?"
"Fucking- i'll kill you-" you gasped out, face growing redder as you heard Geto's growl of annoyance, feeling the vibration of his chest against your back. "Don't worry about it, Suguru." Gojo said, smirking as he started undoing the buttons of your pants, "We can punish her later for her disrespect. For now, I just want to get at this pussy~"
With a big grin, Gojo ripped your pants off of you in one fell swoop, making you squeal as he tossed it away. You shivered as your bare legs were exposed to the evening air as well as their lecherous stares. You could see Gojo's eyes trail up your legs before zoning in on your clothed pussy, the man letting out a snort as he took in your panties.
"Pink with a bow on? Really?" he joked, "how plain and not sexy."
"I think they're cute." Geto chimed in, also shamelessly staring down at your clothed cunt, "But it doesn't matter. It's not going to be on her for long, anyway."
"True." Gojo said with a nod as he hooked his finger into the waistband of your panties and pulled it out before letting go, allowing the elastic to slap back against you, "but next time, wear something sexier."
"I hate you- so much!" you snarled, face bright red, biting your lower lip as the white haired man looped his fingers back into the waistband of your panties, this time, very obviously wanting to get it off of you. You gasped, unable to stop your shivers as Gojo leaned forward and placed a kiss on your tummy, his tongue peeking out to lick at your skin as he slowly starting pulling your panties down. He laughed as you tried to squiggle out but your movements only made the slide of your panties all the more easier for him.
"Look at that~" Gojo gasped as your cunt got exposed, practically drooling as he stared like a pervert, a twinkle behind his blue eyes, "You might be a weakling but atleast you have a pretty pussy."
"Atleast she's good for something~" Geto teased, shuffling behind you and in that moment, you felt it. Something long, hard and thick pressed up against your back and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what that was. You gulped as you felt the imprint of Geto's cock against you, unable to help yourself as your eyes darted towards the front of Gojo's pants and sure enough: His erection was straining against it.
They were too focused on your cunt to notice where you were looking and you were too focused on their dicks to notice that your panties were now completely off and that Gojo had tossed the fabric aside. Geto immediately hooked his legs over your own before forcefully spreading them apart, leaving you wide and exposed to their perverted gazes. Gojo let out a whistle as he dragged a chair over before sitting on it, his face now right across your bare cunt.
"Fuck- fuck you- fuck you!" you gasped out and cursed, feeling lightheaded from the situation. "How does she look?" Geto asked, both of them ignoring you and you could hear the hunger in his voice and the sensation of his cock twitching against you. "Oh, she's perfect~" Gojo responded and you knew they were referring to your pussy as its own person- somehow giving it more praise and respect than they've ever given you, "And oh so wet~"
"I want to see." Geto demanded, not having the same view as Gojo, "Can't let you have all the fun."
"Sure thing, pal." Gojo said, not taking his eyes off of your pussy as he continued to stare, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Gojo- don't you dare-" You barked out, understanding what he was going to do- but what you hoped sounded aggressive came out soft and subservient. The man simply snorted in response, ignoring your pleas as he opened up his phone camera and started taking pictures of your pussy. You shut your eyes and squealed everytime you heard the shutter of the camera, trembling body still held tightly in Geto's arms.
"Her hole clenches every-time I take a picture~" Gojo cooed, bringing a hand up to thumb at your pussy lips before spreading them apart even more, making your back arch against Geto, "And look at this little clit! So fucking cute!"
"Just show it to me already!" Geto snarled, impatient. "Alright, alright." Gojo responded with a roll of his eyes, standing up before turning the phone towards the two of you, a shot of your spread pussy on screen. You turned your head away and closed your eyes, ears ringing at how humiliated you felt-
and pussy dripping at how good it was.
"Oh, she does look delicious!" Geto praised, gripping your chin as he forced you to turn your head back towards the phone, making you look at the picture, "You have such a pretty cunt and you hid it from us for so long?"
You whined cutely as you looked at the picture- a closeup shot of your spread cunt with a clear view of your clit and hole, your cunt glistening with slick.
"Seriously!" Gojo barked as he started swiping, showing off the various photos of your pussy that were now in his possession, "If we knew all you wanted was some fucking, we'd have pounded this pussy ages ago! I've always wanted a sex toy."
"Don't you have like a dozen already?"
"Yeah, but I'm sure this bitch's cunt will feel way better than some silicone~"
"I hate you-" you gasped out, any and all fight leaving your bones (not that there was much to begin with) as you leaned your head against Geto's shoulder, "I hate you both- so much-"
"Yeah?" Geto asked, the tone in his voice clearly indicating that he wasn't taking you seriously, "Well, this pussy says otherwise."
He let go of your chin and snaked his hand down quickly to cup your pussy, making you yelp. You didn't know if what you felt was shame or relief that there was finally a hand on your cunt- finally some friction against your dripping womanhood. You tossed your head back, eyebrows furrowed and lip trapped under your teeth as Geto's long fingers started gliding through your pussy lips. The slick sound of him rubbing circles over your hole and collecting your wetness echoed through the room, the sound making your ears burn and your chest feel like it was on fire.
This is was so...so...
so fucking fun...
"She's loving this~" Gojo predicted accurately, eyes darting between your blissful expression and Geto's fingers toying with your body, "Fucking whore- slutty bitch- oh, we are going to have fun with you~"
"Her pussy is growing wetter by the second." Geto noted, cock fully erect and throbbing against you, his other arm slowly letting go of the hold around your neck, confident that you were going to stay right there like a good little girl. You gasped as the head spinning pressure was finally off of you, taking in a few deep breaths but choking on it just as quickly as the man started using his slick covered fingers to run circles over your clit.
"You're dripping all over the table, little bitch~" Gojo teased, taking a couple more pictures before pocketing it, "Fuck- let me feel too- or- actually-"
He sat back on the chair, pulling it closer before gripping your thighs, an eager grin on his face:
"I'm gonna eat~"
"Get used to this, little bitch." Geto growled into your ear, pulling his hand away from your cunt and snickering at your whine of disappointment, "You're our toy now and we are going to do whatever we want to you, understand?"
His hands came upto your chest, lithe fingers starting to undo the buttons of your shirt one by one, revealing a patch of skin before the peeks of your bra. Gojo licked his lips and moved forward, his hot breath fanning against your slick cunt.
"Whatever. We. Want."
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seiwas · 8 months ago
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₊˚⊹。 don't let go, okay? | gojo satoru
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wc: 2.1k
summary: it has to be some sort of fate that you happen to be stuck with gojo on valentine's day.
contains: f!reader, slowburn, fluff, reader and gojo are 21, reader and gojo are ‘guardians’ to megumi and tsumiki but they are not romantically together, japanese valentine’s chocolate tradition, reader’s cursed technique (vaguely), kind of pining
a/n: in the 'conversations on love' universe but takes place before the main series (would be nice to read but not necessary to understand this). theme song for this is what love is by zimmer90.
part of 'do you know what love is like?', a mini-series of almost's within 'conversations on love'. also included in how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)
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The night is crisp when you step into it, the clean cut of a cool breeze tickling your cheek; it sweeps past you in the edge of winter and spring. 
You walk along the street. 
A sort of faded, vintage hue paints Shimokitazawa, wooden boards with worn down signages holding names of antique shops in every corner. The night feels older here, retro lights tinging bars and pubs more maturely than those nearby in Shibuya. At the street across, the sign of a cafe is flipped the other way to formally open the speakeasy it transforms into. 
You’ve only been here twice before: once with Nanami and Utahime years ago, while searching for old vinyl records the three of you had gotten into, and another with Tsumiki, some time last month because she’d mentioned wanting to check the thrift shops. 
Who would have thought you’d be back so soon? With—
“Satoru,” you call out, half-giggling, “why are you sniffing?” 
Gojo trails just a few inches behind you, body bent over closely to catch a whiff but not near enough to touch. Each inhale he takes is punctuated with the sound of whizzing air, condensing to fit through his nostrils. 
“You smell like chocolate.”
Out of all the plans you’d anticipated on Valentine’s Day, being roped into a mission with Gojo at the last minute was definitely not one of them. 
You shake your head knowingly, the corners of your lips curling; Gojo can smell sweets miles away, you could honestly mistake it for his cursed technique. 
He pulls back, falling into step with you. 
“Tsumiki asked me to help make some earlier.” 
Heavy jazz floats through the air as you pass by a bar entrance, the music muffling as the doors fall shut a few seconds later. Your boots clack against the pavement. 
“Oh?” Gojo perks up, voice turning an all-too-familiar hint of nosy as he teases, “What kind?” 
You snort as you dig your hands further into your pockets. For someone who claims to be all-seeing and all-knowing, Gojo is a lot more inquisitive than he seems; his nonchalance is but an added security much like his infinity is, dissipating only in company he’s comfortable sharing that side of him with. 
It’s been a while since Gojo’s been ‘home’ in the past week, so you don’t blame him for wondering. 
“Tomo mostly,” your gaze shifts to the side, waiting for his reaction, “though I did notice her sneaking a few honmei ones when I wasn’t looking.” 
There’s a slight stagger to his step as his shoulders tense up, his sunglasses shifting higher as his ears push back. You bite down your laugh. 
For as clueless as both you and Gojo are when it comes to being guardians to Megumi and Tsumiki, you think Gojo’s grown an odd mix of semi-brotherly-kind of-fatherly-mostly-guardianly protectiveness over the both of them—to Tsumiki especially. You can tell because his reminders to Megumi are always sealed with some form of ensuring Tsumiki makes it home safely. 
‘Home’, which is where the kids stay, but it’s neither yours nor his—just a place nearby that keeps them protected and comfortable. You’re with them most days, Gojo staying when he can, but with the higher-ups assigning him on missions left and right, there’s hardly any time for him to drop by. Hell, you haven’t seen much of him either, besides the rare instances of bumping into him along the halls of Jujutsu Tech, a whine almost always drawn from his throat. 
You see his curiosity as an effort to check in.
He only hums, hollower than his usual responses. The sound of his footsteps fill the gaps of what would typically be a seamless back-and-forth with you; you try not to comment on it. 
Indinstinct chatter brings the street to life, smooth beats cascading warmth against the chilly breeze. Despite the noise, Gojo’s silence feels unsettling—as if there are words forming at the tip of his tongue, withheld for reasons you can’t quite get a read on just yet. 
So, you wait, learning more and more that he usually comes around when—
“Did you?” 
The question is half-murmured, part of it lost to the night. 
Did you what? Notice Tsumiki?
“Hm?” you tilt your head towards him, tucking strands of hair behind your ear in an attempt to hear him better. 
He doesn’t answer. 
You stop walking. 
“Did I what?” you adjust your coat before turning towards him, catching the slightest of his gaze before he looks away quickly.
(“Did you make honmei chocolate?” he means.) 
Still, no answer. 
The tips of Gojo’s ears dust pink, and you try not to comment on that too.
His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, slipping free before his Adam’s apple bobs, swallowing. 
“Wanna see something cool?” he changes the subject, removing his sunglasses and turning back to you as if none of it happened. As if he didn’t ask you anything, as if you didn’t ask what he meant—as if you didn’t just catch him at the tail end of a wistful stare. 
The shift in his tone happens so suddenly, it feels disjointed. Unnatural. But you’ve gotten used to moments like this from knowing him for so long; Gojo always says less of what he truly means. 
You focus on his face, yellow and red retro lights dancing on clear blue. He looks almost freakish this way, otherworldly—a crazed look you’ve gotten familiar with. His hands are stuffed inside his pockets when he stops, gangly long legs outstretched by the shadow beneath him. 
There’s really no time to be doing this right now, the both of you just 10 minutes away from the mission’s location—an abandoned building housing a special grade curse that lures people in with fabricated memories. Around you, the neighborhood’s nightlife has dwindled, your walk thus far having brought you farther from the heart of the place and closer to somewhere quieter, more secluded. 
Gojo looks too excited, eyes beaming wonder and mischief along with something else you can’t quite figure out yet. You purse your lips in thought. 
“C’mon, it’ll be quick.” he smirks, the dimple on his cheek deepening as he shrugs, “I’ve finally perfected it.”
A beat—skipped before your heart races. 
You wonder if he knows, if he’s using this to his advantage, because—
—when have you ever denied him when he looks at you this way? 
The higher-ups should have known better than to pair you together for a mission. Your instructions were merely ‘to assist’, but you hardly believe it considering Gojo almost always handles these things on his own. It’s more babysitting, you know, to keep the damages of his technique to a minimum. 
They shouldn’t have called on you, of all people—you’re on Gojo’s side. Always. 
A smile threatens to escape your lips, warmth spreading within your cheeks; you roll your eyes jokingly, stifling a giggle before relenting.
“Fine.” 
He guides you forward, chest bumping against your shoulder blade as he picks up pace. It’s a clear road ahead of you, the streets emptying out to more greenery; your senses are filled with the smell of the earth mixed in with the faint cotton of Gojo’s cologne. 
This is bad for your feelings. 
(Being this close to you feels like the ticklish drag of fingernails just right before it creates indents in his chest.) 
There’s something brewing between you and Gojo, neither of you have just addressed it yet. He pulls away when the moment is too close but still looks for you first after missions, an almost automatic question to either Shoko or Ijichi about your whereabouts.
You’ve been catching his stares too, almost always at the split-second before he turns away—a reaction on impulse. The silence between you feels fuller lately, as if there are words he wants to say but is choosing to withhold. 
When the space is vacant enough, he steps a few inches to your right, left hand stuffed inside his pocket as he shakes his arm hesitantly, almost awkwardly. 
“You have to hold on to me,” he instructs you. 
Your eyes widen, equally surprised and shy as you slowly take your hand out of your coat and slip it into the empty space, resting it on the crook of his elbow. Gojo freezes very slightly. 
He shakes it off just as quickly, “You might be sensitive to my domain because of your technique, so stay close just to be safe.” 
Then, his head tilts towards you, a little closer than you’re both used to. This near, his eyes hold a perfect morning sky, eyelashes hanging like wispy clouds on a clear day. 
Your gazes meet and you blink twice, goosebumps littering your skin. 
“Don’t let go, okay?”
Another beat—followed by another, and another, the sound of it growing louder. 
You almost miss the way he says it gentler than normal, how sincere it feels with his breath tickling your cheek. 
“Okay,” your fingers curl around his arm tighter. 
He lifts his other hand up, crossing his fingers as he recites the mantra to his domain. In an instant, the greenery around you disappears, stark white taking its place. 
“What do you think?” Gojo asks almost immediately, crossing his arms over his chest. Your fingers stay curled onto the crook of his elbow, sandwiched between his forearm and bicep; his other hand rests a few centimeters away from yours, nearly touching. 
You scan the space, examining its vastness. Minimalist. A blank sheet—
“It’s…” you try to find the right words, “... empty?” 
He gasps exaggeratedly, “Hey!” then pouts in fake offense, “I made it porcelain white at least. This isn’t pure white you know.” 
You eye him from the side.
He chuckles, breaking his act, “You should be honored.”
A pause—his tone shifting to something softer, more vulnerable. 
“You’re the first person I’m bringing in here.” 
His admission is unexpected, but it feels relevant, makes you feel like it, too. 
You’re touched, knowing how secretive he’s been on perfecting his domain since Toji and Geto; he only ever tells you and Ijichi about it. No one ever pressured him into achieving his perfect domain, but he feels like his existence necessitates it. 
“It’s clean,” you finally say, playing along, “I like it.” 
He eyes you this time, dimples deepening the more he attempts to poorly push down his smile. 
“Shame I can’t really do much with it, would have wanted to spice up the interiors a bit.” 
You snort, knowing full well that Gojo’s very much the type to pick one piece of furniture and anchor the entire place’s aesthetic off of that. 
“Someday,” you catch his eyes again. 
(It echoes in his ears, the quickening thump of his heartbeat—pink noise that can’t possibly be a product of your technique. 
In the silence of his domain, all he hears is that sound and you.) 
He hums before looking back to the empty space, “Acoustics would be good by then, we can try your technique in here.” 
You nod, the corners of your lips curling; his pinky presses against yours so faintly you wonder if you just imagined it—if he had meant it or not. 
The special grade is dealt with within a quarter of the time it took you to travel to here, but Gojo seems to bear the consequences with another one of his migraines—a mixture of fatigue from activating his domain earlier along with sensitivity from the increased bustle in Shimokitazawa’s night life as you exit the neighborhood. 
You make a mental note to get him something that covers his eyes a little bit more than those circle frames he uses—an imbued blindfold maybe? You’ll have to think about it some more. 
(When you both get ‘home’, you set up the couch, offering him the spare bedroom so he can sleep off the headache. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen for a glass of water when he catches a glimpse of it—a fully decorated box of honmei chocolate partially hidden at the corner of the counter. 
The card has half of his name written in your handwriting.
You don’t end up giving it, but he does receive some chocolates from you, still. It’s a belated gift the next day, along with the ones you gift to Shoko, Yaga, and Ijichi—a tradition you’ve kept up since you were 16. 
But, his box has an extra piece, and you even tailored each one to all his favorite flavors: sakura, strawberry, zunda, and anko; his card is the same one you left half-written, just now fully spelling ‘Satoru’. 
So, he thinks his might be a bit more special, and he’s realizing that he likes it that way—he might prefer it much more, actually.)
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a/n: haven't written col in a while but this is the official launch of 'do you know what love is like?', a mini-series of almost's within the 'conversations of love' universe! there are lots of details that connect to some of the col works but this happens before all of the ones released so far (so you don't need to read the main series to understand this, but it would add to the full experience if you do!).
thank you notes: @augustinewrites love u my valentine, this fic wouldn't exist without you 🥹 + @stellamancer col couple is here!! with chocolates!! thank you for going over this for the first read 🥹 ily niku + @mididoodles @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat my cheerleaders!! thank you for the support always 🥹
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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starkwlkr · 10 months ago
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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1
female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance
part 1 part 3
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Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK
“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.
“Hey, Lando!”
“Lando! How’s it going?”
“Norris, hey!”
Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.
“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”
“There’s a big chance I might be here.”
Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”
As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.
“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.
“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.
“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.
“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.
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The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.
“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.
“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.
“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.
“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.
“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”
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It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.
“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.
Charlie Hunnam, actor.
Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?
“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.
“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.
“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.
After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”
Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.
“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.
“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”
“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”
Oh.
“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he���s British!” Lando said dramatically.
“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.
“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.
Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”
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“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”
Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.
“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.
Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.
“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.
“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”
“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.
“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”
“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.
“I love all my grid sons equally.”
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elikajinnie · 2 months ago
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Crossing The Line - Y.J
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P: Hufflepuff!Jungwon X Fem!Reader
Trope: Friends To Lovers
Warnings: Misunderstandings, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff
Synopsis: When you receive your Hogwarts letter and meet Yang Jungwon on the Hogwarts Express, an innocent friendship blossoms into something deeper over the years.
a/n: oh boy.. here we go!! more angst!!! fun fact! i actually reinstalled hogwarts mystery again.. heh. and i love the fact that you guys keep calling the series immersive!!
masterlist
/ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
The platform was bustling with excited chatter and the hiss of steam as you stood with your parents at King's Cross Station, feeling the weight of the moment sink in. Platform 9¾ stretched out before you, the scarlet train waiting to take you to a place you'd only heard about—Hogwarts. With a final hug and well wishes from your parents, you stepped through the barrier and made your way toward the train.
You found an empty compartment, pushing open the door with a quiet creak. Hefting your suitcase, you placed it in the overhead compartment before sinking into the plush seat by the window. Your fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the edge of your sweater, trying to calm your racing heart. The door slid open, and you looked up to see a boy standing there, his sharp, cat-like eyes watching you curiously.
"Excuse me, can I sit here? Everywhere else is full," he asked, his voice warm and polite.
You nodded, offering a small smile. His face lit up as he smiled back, revealing dimples that deepened his expression. You widened your eyes slightly, finding the sight unexpectedly cute.
He quickly stashed his suitcase overhead before taking the seat across from you. His attention shifted to the scenery, eyes wide with wonder as he gazed out the window. The train rumbled to life, beginning its journey, and you decided to pull out your book about Hogwarts, hoping to absorb some last-minute knowledge before arriving.
But it seemed your quiet moment of reading was the perfect cue for him to strike up a conversation. "My name is Yang Jungwon! What's yours?" His smile was wide and friendly, and you couldn't help but return it.
You introduced yourself softly, and his grin only grew wider. "Nice to meet you!" he beamed, the excitement in his voice contagious.
"Nice to meet you too," you replied, feeling your nerves ease as the two of you began to talk about anything and everything—family, Hogwarts, what house you thought you'd end up in.
Before long, a voice interrupted your conversation. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"
You both turned to see the trolley lady, her cart brimming with an assortment of magical sweets. Your face brightened as you dug into your pocket, pulling out a few coins your mother had given you. "I'll take some chocolate frogs, please," you said, and Jungwon chimed in quickly.
"Add on some Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans!" He handed over his coins with a grin.
Back in your seats, you and Jungwon tore open the packages, sharing the sweets between you. You tried to keep hold of your chocolate frog, but it leapt out of your grip and hopped right out the door, leaving you with just the card. A smile tugged at your lips when you saw a witch you hadn't collected yet.
Beside you, Jungwon popped a jelly bean into his mouth and immediately made a face. "Soap…" he groaned, looking at you in dismay.
You giggled, intrigued, and picked one up for yourself. You grinned after tasting it. "Marshmallow," you said with a laugh, earning a playful groan from Jungwon as he slumped back in his seat, defeated by the beans.
As the Hogwarts Express began to slow, the familiar buzz of excitement filled the air. You and Jungwon exchanged glances, knowing it was time to change into your robes, the thick fabric a comforting weight on your shoulders.
When the train finally came to a stop, you struggled a bit with the overhead compartment, trying to reach your suitcase.
“Here, let me help,” Jungwon offered, his voice gentle as he stood up beside you. He reached up, effortlessly pulling your suitcase down and handing it to you with a bright smile. “Got it.”
“Thanks,” you said, a warmth spreading through your chest as you slung your bag over your shoulder.
Stepping off the train, you were immediately greeted by the cool night air and the sound of a deep voice calling, “Firs’ years! Firs’ years, over here!” Hagrid stood, towering over the sea of students, ushering the first-years toward the boats.
You and Jungwon hurried over to the shore, where the small, enchanted boats awaited. Without needing to say anything, the two of you naturally climbed into one together. As the boat gently glided over the glassy surface of the Black Lake, the towering silhouette of Hogwarts Castle appeared in the distance, glowing softly against the dark sky. You felt a flutter of nerves, but beside you, Jungwon was staring wide-eyed at the castle, his mouth slightly open in awe.
“This is amazing,” he whispered, his breath visible in the cool air.
You smiled, nodding in agreement, though your stomach was now a tight knot of anticipation. The boat journey felt like it lasted both a second and a lifetime, and before you knew it, you were stepping onto the shore. The grand castle doors loomed ahead as you joined the group of students making their way toward the Great Hall.
Inside, the ceiling glittered with stars, a sea of floating candles lighting the massive room. As you walked, your hand brushed against Jungwon's, and at some point, without even realizing it, you found your fingers laced together. The warmth of his hand in yours kept your nerves at bay as you both took in the majesty of the hall.
Suddenly, the Sorting Hat was brought out, and one by one, students were called forward. The tension built as you watched each name get sorted into a house, and before long, you heard your name.
Your heart raced as you stepped forward, hands trembling slightly as you sat on the stool and the Sorting Hat was placed on your head. The brim fell over your eyes, and for a moment, everything went quiet.
"Hmm… tricky. You've got bravery, no doubt, but there’s also a thirst for knowledge. A good heart, too… I know just where to put you," the Sorting Hat murmured.
When it called out your house, the hall erupted into cheers from the table. You stood up, catching Jungwon’s eye as he grinned widely, giving you a thumbs up from where he stood in line.
Not long after, it was his turn. The Sorting Hat barely touched his head before it cried, “Hufflepuff!”
The Hufflepuff table roared with excitement as Jungwon made his way over, flashing you a smile that seemed even brighter under the candlelight.
A few weeks later, you and Jungwon sat outside the Herbology classroom, basking in the warm afternoon sun. You had developed a habit of meeting before classes, sneaking moments together between your different schedules. Today, the atmosphere felt especially peaceful, the school grounds quiet except for the rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Jungwon had been oddly quiet for a while, focused on something in his hands. When you glanced over, you noticed he had woven a ring out of small flowers and grass. His fingers moved with care, and soon, he held up the delicate creation with a satisfied smile.
“For you,” he said softly, reaching over and gently slipping the flower ring onto your finger.
You stared at it for a moment, touched by the gesture. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered.
Jungwon leaned back, grinning. “I made it because… well, I wanted us to make a promise.” His tone was softer now, more serious. “Let’s always be friends, no matter what happens, okay?”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you looked at the flower ring on your finger before meeting his eyes. Without hesitation, you nodded, smiling at him with a sense of certainty. “Always.”
The two of you sat there, hands linked again, the flower ring resting between your fingers as a quiet symbol of a bond that neither time nor magic could ever break.
The years passed swiftly, and through it all, you and Jungwon remained inseparable. From attending classes to studying in the library late into the night, to sneaking off into the Forbidden Forest on dares, there was rarely a moment where you weren’t by each other’s side.
By the time you reached your fourth year, Hogwarts had become your home in every sense. The once-imposing castle corridors now felt familiar, but even after years of wandering, there were still hidden places that remained a mystery to most students.
It was on one of these afternoons, when you were distracted by a muggle novel one of your friends had lent you, that you stumbled upon a new discovery. Lost in the pages of the book, you absentmindedly wandered down unfamiliar corridors, barely paying attention to where your feet were leading you. By the time you looked up from the words, you realized you were somewhere entirely new.
The hallway was dimly lit, the paintings on the walls peering down at you with curiosity. Their whispered voices echoed faintly as they observed you, as if intrigued by the rare visitor. You hadn’t seen anyone else around for what felt like ages.
You glanced around, taking in the quiet, shadowy atmosphere and wondering how you’d ended up here. It wasn’t a place you’d passed by before, but it didn’t feel threatening—just secluded, like a pocket of Hogwarts forgotten by most. After a few minutes of cautious exploring, you managed to retrace your steps, finding your way back to the grand staircase.
The discovery had intrigued you, and your first thought was to share it with Jungwon. The next day, you brought him back to the hallway, excitement bubbling in your chest as you led him behind a griffin statue, down the winding path near the kitchens. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the hidden space.
“Woah… How did you even find this?” Jungwon asked, his cat-like eyes sparkling with amusement.
“I was just wandering around, not paying attention,” you admitted sheepishly. “But look—no one ever comes here! It’s like our own secret place.”
From that day on, the hallway became your private hideaway. Whenever you wanted a break from the busy castle or just needed a quiet moment, you and Jungwon would slip away, sharing sweets and laughing over small things. The portraits on the walls had grown fond of you both, sometimes chatting with you or simply observing in silent approval. Even the house-elves in the nearby kitchen grew used to your visits, bringing you snacks or drinks whenever they saw you lounging in your little corner.
It was nice—no, it was perfect. But as time went on, something began to change, at least for you.
At first, it was subtle. Maybe it was the way Jungwon’s laughter seemed to linger in your ears longer than it used to, or how you found yourself noticing little details about him more and more—the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how his dimple appeared every time he laughed, how he absentmindedly played with the hem of his sleeves when he was nervous. Little things that, in years past, you would have brushed off as normal.
But now, they made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t quite understand.
You would sit together, sharing sweets or reading quietly, and you’d catch yourself watching him. Your thoughts would drift, wondering what it would be like to hold his hand not just out of comfort, but because you wanted to. What it would feel like to be closer to him, in a way that wasn’t just friendship.
It was confusing at first—how could you start to see Jungwon in this new light after being best friends for so long? You didn’t know if it was something that had slowly grown over time or if it was just hitting you all at once now, but the more time you spent with him, the harder it was to ignore the feelings stirring inside you.
One day, as you both sat in the hidden hallway, Jungwon was weaving another ring out of flowers, something he had taken to doing often since that first time years ago. He looked so focused, his fingers nimble as they twisted the stems into delicate shapes, and your heart ached as you watched him.
“I made this one for you,” he said, holding up the ring with a bright smile, completely unaware of the turmoil brewing inside you.
You took the flower ring from him, sliding it onto your finger just like you had done countless times before. But this time, it felt different. Your chest tightened, and you wondered if Jungwon could ever see you in the same way you were starting to see him.
“It’s perfect,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked at the ring, then back at him. He beamed at you, that same dimpled smile that always made your heart skip a beat.
You started noticing all the little things Jungwon did for you—the small gestures that had once been background noise now stood out, each one making your heart race in ways you weren’t quite ready to admit.
It began with the smallest moments.
One evening in the library, you were hunched over your books, trying to finish an essay on Transfiguration. The stress had built up, and your mind felt like it was going in circles. Jungwon was sitting across from you, focused on his own homework, but he must have noticed your frustration. Without a word, he reached across the table and slid a piece of chocolate toward you.
"Thought you could use a break," he said, flashing you his signature dimpled smile.
You stared at the chocolate for a moment, your heart doing an odd little flip. It wasn’t the first time he had done something like this, but now, it felt different. There was a warmth in your chest that hadn’t been there before, a growing awareness of how thoughtful he was, how much he paid attention to the smallest details about you.
You took the chocolate, feeling your face flush as you mumbled a quiet, "Thanks."
Then there were the times when he'd wait for you outside your classroom, his smile lighting up the corridor when you appeared. Even on days when you were running late or had been too busy to tell him your plans, somehow, Jungwon always seemed to know where you’d be.
It wasn’t just the small things, though. There were bigger moments that made your heart skip in a way you couldn’t ignore.
Like when he defended you during a particularly tense Quidditch match. The Slytherin team had been throwing jabs your way, trying to get under your skin. You had shrugged it off, not wanting to make a scene, but Jungwon had noticed immediately.
After the game, when one of the players made a snide comment as they walked past, Jungwon had stepped in without hesitation.
"Hey, back off," he said, his usually soft voice firm and unwavering. His eyes were sharp, protective. The Slytherin player backed down with a smirk, muttering something under their breath, but you had barely noticed. You were too busy watching Jungwon, feeling the weight of his presence beside you, the way he stood up for you so naturally.
"Thanks," you had whispered, feeling a rush of something more than gratitude. He turned to you, his expression softening immediately as he shrugged it off like it was nothing.
"Of course," he said, smiling at you again. "No one messes with my best friend."
Those words—best friend—should have reassured you, but instead, they only made your heart ache more. Because now, every time he smiled at you like that, all you could think about was how much you wished he could see you as something more.
Then came the day when you were both back in your secret hallway, hidden behind the griffin statue like always. You had shared sweets, talking about nothing and everything, the same way you had since your first year. Jungwon had pulled out his wand and was absentmindedly casting small charms on the sweets, making them float or change colors as you both laughed.
At some point, you had leaned against his shoulder without thinking, the proximity between you feeling so natural. His warmth seeped through the fabric of his robe, and you felt a sense of comfort that was almost intoxicating. You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his steady breathing, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.
Until you realized your heart was pounding in your chest, and it wasn’t because of the magic or the laughter—it was because of him.
You sat up suddenly, your face heating up as you put some space between you. Jungwon looked at you, confused by your sudden movement. "You okay?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his eyes filled with concern.
"Y-yeah," you stammered, avoiding his gaze as you fidgeted with the sleeve of your robe. "Just... lost in thought."
He gave you a soft smile, not pushing the subject, and went back to practicing his charms. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed inside you. This wasn’t just a crush—it was more than that. The realization hit you like a wave: you were falling for him, and you didn’t know how to stop it.
From the way his smile made your stomach flip, to the sound of his laugh that made your day instantly brighter, it was becoming harder and harder to deny your feelings. Every moment with Jungwon felt like a blessing and a curse—because while you cherished every second by his side, you couldn’t help but wish for more.
/ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
It was a quiet evening in the common room, the soft crackling of the fireplace filling the space as you sat with a group of your friends, sprawled out on one of the couches.
One of your friends, Alice, was seated next to you, idly flipping through a textbook. She glanced up, noticing the distant look in your eyes. “You’ve been pretty distracted lately,” she said with a smirk. “Anything on your mind?”
You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. “What? No, nothing!” you replied quickly, a bit too quickly, which only made Alice’s smirk grow wider.
“Oh, really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been daydreaming for the past ten minutes. Who’s the lucky person?”
Your other friends, Ben and Amelia, perked up at the conversation, their attention now fully on you. “Yeah, come on,” Ben teased, leaning forward. “What’s got you so spaced out?”
You could feel your face starting to heat up, and you quickly looked back down at your homework, trying to brush it off. “I’m not daydreaming! I’m just… thinking.”
“Thinking about Jungwon?” Amelia chimed in with a grin, her voice lilting in that sing-songy way that made your stomach drop.
At the mention of his name, you felt your cheeks flush even more. You tried to play it cool, but the way your hand fumbled over the quill you were holding gave you away. “W-What? No!” you stammered, suddenly feeling the heat of all their gazes on you.
“Oh my Merlin, it is Jungwon!” Alice exclaimed, her eyes wide with realization. “I knew it! You’ve been acting all weird around him lately.”
“No, I haven’t!” you protested, your heart pounding now, but your friends weren’t buying it. They exchanged knowing looks, grins spreading across their faces as if they had just uncovered the greatest secret of the century.
Amelia giggled, leaning in closer. “You totally have a crush on him, don’t you?”
Your face was now practically on fire. “I do not!” you said, a little too defensively, which only made them laugh harder.
“Oh, you so do!” Ben said, laughing as he nudged Alice. “Look at how red she is!”
Your friends’ laughter echoed in the common room, and you felt a surge of embarrassment wash over you. “I don’t have a crush!” you repeated, but the more you tried to deny it, the more they teased you, their laughter growing louder.
Alice leaned back on the couch, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Come on, just admit it! You’re totally into him!”
“I’m not!” you shot back, but you could hear the desperation in your own voice now, and you knew it was useless.
“Look at her blush!” Amelia teased, poking your arm. “She’s so smitten!”
That was it. You slammed your book shut and jumped to your feet. “I’m not smitten!” you cried, but your friends were already laughing hysterically, darting off the couch and scattering around the common room as you stood there, flustered and red-faced.
Alice was the first to make a break for it, running toward the stairs, but you were quicker. “Get back here!” you shouted, chasing after her as she squealed in delight.
“Admit it, and I’ll stop teasing you!” Alice called over her shoulder, laughing as she dodged around a chair.
“Never!” you yelled back, lunging at her, but she was too fast, slipping away as Ben and Amelia joined in the laughter, clapping and cheering from the sidelines.
“You’ll never catch me!” Alice teased, dancing just out of your reach, her laughter infectious.
You chased her around the common room, your face still burning with embarrassment but now mixed with a strange sense of relief. Your friends’ teasing, though relentless, wasn’t mean-spirited. They had noticed something you weren’t quite ready to admit, and as much as it flustered you, there was something almost comforting in knowing that they had your back.
Finally, after several more failed attempts to grab Alice, you collapsed back onto the couch, out of breath and laughing despite yourself. Your friends joined you, all of them still grinning.
“You know we’re just teasing,” Ben said, his tone softening slightly as he gave you a playful nudge. “But seriously, you should tell him.”
You bit your lip, your heart racing at the thought. “Tell him what?” you asked, still trying to play innocent, though you knew exactly what he meant.
“That you like him, obviously,” Amelia chimed in, her voice gentle now. “You never know, he might feel the same way.”
You fell silent for a moment, staring at your hands as your heart fluttered at the possibility. The thought of telling Jungwon how you felt terrified you, but at the same time, the idea that he might feel the same way filled you with a strange sense of hope.
“Well,” you said softly, glancing up at your friends, “maybe one day…”
They all exchanged knowing smiles, and though the teasing wasn’t over, there was a new understanding between you all. They knew how much Jungwon meant to you, and now, so did you.
Despite your friends’ teasing and their insistence that you tell Jungwon how you felt, you kept your feelings to yourself. You thought that, maybe over time, they would fade, that you’d eventually stop seeing him in this new light and things would go back to normal.
But that didn’t happen.
The years continued to pass, and your crush on Jungwon only deepened. It was impossible not to fall harder with every kind gesture, every shared laugh, every late-night conversation. He was always there, by your side, his familiar smile brightening even the dullest of days.
But to Jungwon, you were just friends. Best friends, yes—but still just friends.
Right?
That thought echoed in your mind constantly. He had never treated you differently, never given any indication that he felt something more. You tried to convince yourself that maybe it was better this way. It was safer to stay in the comfort of friendship than to risk everything by confessing your feelings.
Even though each time he smiled at you, your heart felt like it might burst.
It was fifth year when you really started to notice the ache in your chest, the one that came with being so close to someone you cared about but knowing they could never see you the way you saw them. Every time Jungwon would sit next to you in class, casually slinging his arm over your chair, you’d feel a jolt of excitement—only to remind yourself that to him, it meant nothing more than friendship.
And that hurt more than you cared to admit.
One evening, the two of you were sitting by the lake, your secret spot for late-night talks and quiet moments away from the bustle of the castle. The moon reflected off the surface of the water, casting a soft glow over everything. Jungwon was lying on the grass beside you, arms behind his head, his eyes closed as he listened to the sounds of the night.
You sat beside him, knees pulled to your chest, staring out at the peaceful scene in front of you. But your mind wasn’t on the lake. It was on the boy next to you, the boy who had no idea how much space he took up in your heart.
He suddenly turned his head to look at you, his cat-like eyes catching the moonlight. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said softly. “Is everything okay?”
Your heart clenched at the concern in his voice. Of course, he would notice. He always noticed when something was bothering you. You forced a smile, trying to push away the ache in your chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”
He nodded, his gaze returning to the sky. “You think too much sometimes,” he said with a small smile. “You should relax more.”
Relax. How could you possibly relax when every time you looked at him, you felt like your heart was about to explode? How could you relax when he was so close, yet so far from seeing what you really wanted?
“Yeah,” you said quietly, “maybe I should.”
Sixth year came, and with it, a whirlwind of OWL exams and the pressure of preparing for your future careers. But no matter how busy things got, Jungwon was always there, a constant presence in your life. You spent nearly every free moment together, studying in the library, practicing spells by the lake, sneaking down to the kitchens for midnight snacks.
You told yourself that this was enough—that being his best friend was enough. But every time his hand brushed against yours, or he leaned in a little too close during a whispered conversation, your heart betrayed you, and you longed for something more.
It was one afternoon in the library, while you were both cramming for a Potions test, that it hit you harder than ever.
Jungwon had been going over notes, his brow furrowed in concentration. You watched him from across the table, the way he absentmindedly play with the end of his quill, the way his dimple appeared when he smiled at a particularly clever comment in his notes. He looked up suddenly, catching your gaze, and grinned.
“What?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Do I have something on my face?”
You quickly averted your eyes, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “No, nothing,” you muttered, focusing intently on your own notes, though you could barely read the words.
He laughed softly, leaning back in his chair. “You’re acting weird again. Are you sure you’re not hiding something?”
Your heart raced at the question, and for a split second, you thought about telling him. Telling him everything that had been weighing on your heart for years now. But the fear of losing him as a friend, of ruining the closeness you had, kept you silent.
“Just stressed about Potions,” you lied, forcing a laugh to cover up the tightness in your chest.
He seemed to accept that answer, nodding and returning to his notes. But as you watched him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding on to something that might never happen—that Jungwon, as kind and caring as he was, could never see you as anything more than his best friend.
By the end of sixth year, you had reached your breaking point. The weight of your feelings for Jungwon, the constant ache of wanting more than just friendship, had become too much to bear. You couldn't keep pining after him, pretending that things were fine when they weren't. Something had to change.
So you made a decision: you were going to stop. You had to pull yourself together, push these feelings down, and distance yourself from him. It was the only way to protect your heart. You told yourself that it was the right thing to do—that pushing Jungwon away was the solution. After all, seeing him less would surely make your feelings fade, wouldn’t it?
During the summer vacation, you began to put your plan into action. You kept your letters to Jungwon short, barely replying to his longer, enthusiastic ones. Where you used to share every little detail of your day with him, now you wrote only the essentials. When he suggested meeting up, you always had an excuse ready—something to do, someone else to meet, or simply that you were too tired.
The first time you met up that summer, you barely stayed an hour before making up a reason to leave. Jungwon had looked confused but didn’t question it, smiling and waving you off with a casual "See you later." You ignored the pang in your chest as you walked away from him, fighting the urge to turn around and stay with him like you always had before.
But each time you cut your outings short, it became a little easier to ignore the pain. You convinced yourself that this was the right thing to do—that it was better to let your feelings fade quietly than to risk ruining everything by holding on.
When seventh year started, you kept your distance. You made a point to sit with other friends in the Great Hall, pretending you didn’t notice the way Jungwon would search for you before sitting down at the Hufflepuff table. During classes, you were careful to position yourself far enough away that you wouldn’t have to talk to him too much. Even when you did cross paths, you kept your conversations short and casual, never letting them stray into the deep, personal talks you used to have.
At first, Jungwon didn’t seem to notice. He was still his usual cheerful self, flashing you his dimpled smile whenever he saw you in the corridors, waving as if nothing had changed. But as the weeks went on, he started to look at you with something like confusion in his eyes. He’d ask if you wanted to go to the library together or sneak down to the kitchens like you used to, but you’d always make an excuse—too much homework, too tired, plans with other friends.
It was the hardest thing you’d ever done, pushing him away like this. Every time you saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes when you turned him down, it made your heart ache even more. But you reminded yourself that this was for the best. The more distance you put between you, the more your feelings would fade. That was the only way to stop hurting, right?
But you were so focused on your own despair, on trying to suppress your feelings, that you didn’t notice how much this was hurting him.
It was nearing the end of October when the first cracks in your plan started to show.
You had just finished dinner in the Great Hall and were about to head back to your common room when you saw Jungwon waiting by the entrance, his usual bright expression dimmed. He caught your eye, and before you could slip away, he called out to you, "Hey, can we talk?"
There was something different in his voice—quieter, more serious. You hesitated but nodded, following him out into the corridor where it was quieter.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Jungwon seemed to be searching for the right words, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he avoided your gaze.
"Have I… done something wrong?" he finally asked, his voice soft, but there was a vulnerability in his tone that sent a sharp pang through your chest.
You blinked, caught off guard. "What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?"
He looked at you then, his cat-like eyes filled with confusion and hurt. "It’s just… you’ve been different lately. Distant. You barely talk to me anymore, and when we do, it feels like you’re always trying to leave." He paused, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I don’t know if I did something, but if I did, I’m sorry. I just… I miss you."
His words hit you like a tidal wave, the guilt crashing down on you all at once. You hadn’t realized how much your attempts at distancing yourself had hurt him. You had been so wrapped up in your own heartache, in trying to protect yourself, that you hadn’t seen how much it had affected Jungwon.
You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not your fault.”
“Then why are you pushing me away?” he asked, his voice breaking a little. “I thought we were best friends. But it feels like you don’t want to be around me anymore.”
The words "best friends" echoed in your mind, reverberating painfully in your chest. The way Jungwon said it, so full of hurt and confusion, made your heart twist in ways you couldn’t describe. He didn’t know, didn’t understand the battle raging inside you—the struggle of wanting to stay close, but feeling like you had to let go for your own sanity.
You opened your mouth to say something, anything to make things right, but before the words could form, it was like a lifeline appeared from nowhere.
“Hey, I need your he—” Ben’s voice cut through the heavy silence between you and Jungwon as he approached from down the hall. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes flicking between the two of you. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”
The tension between you and Jungwon was palpable, and for a brief second, you saw Jungwon’s hopeful expression falter, his eyes still locked on yours. Part of you wanted to stay, to explain, but the weight of the moment was too much to handle. You latched onto Ben’s interruption like it was heaven-sent.
“No, no. What do you need?” you asked, your voice shakier than you intended, already shifting away from Jungwon.
Ben blinked, clearly picking up on the tension but choosing not to comment on it. “Oh! Right. Come!” he said hurriedly, grabbing your arm with a light tug. “Just gotta borrow her for a bit!” he called over his shoulder as he steered you away from Jungwon.
You cast one last glance at Jungwon over your shoulder, your heart sinking at the sight of him standing alone in the hallway. His face had fallen, his eyes filled with a sadness you’d never seen before. He looked like he’d just been told something devastating, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders.
It felt like you’d ripped something vital away from him.
You turned back to Ben, feeling the guilt churn inside you as he led you down the corridor. Your chest tightened, but you kept walking, even though a part of you wanted to run back to Jungwon, to take it all back.
“Thanks for the save,” you muttered under your breath once you were out of earshot.
Ben glanced at you, brow furrowed in concern. “That looked intense. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, though the knot in your stomach told a different story.
But you weren’t fine, and neither was Jungwon. You could feel the weight of his sadness following you, even as you tried to convince yourself that this distance was for the best. Yet, as you walked away, all you could think about was the look on his face—the look of someone who had just realized they might be losing their best friend.
/ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
As the days turned into weeks, Jungwon's efforts to stay close to you became increasingly apparent. He would seek you out in the hallways, casually falling into step beside you, his bright smile a beacon of warmth amidst the growing distance you’d tried to create. No matter how many times you made excuses to keep him at arm’s length, he always seemed to find a way back into your orbit, his determination unwavering.
You’d see him at the library, buried in a book, and he’d look up to greet you with that familiar grin, the one that melted your resolve. “Hey! Want to join me? I could use a study buddy,” he’d say, and just like that, your heart would flutter. Each time you locked eyes with him, the excuse that lay on the tip of your tongue would die before it could escape your lips. You found yourself nodding, feeling weak for saying yes, but unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm.
During meals, he would slide into the seat beside you, making casual conversation with a bright-eyed eagerness that made your stomach twist. “Did you finish that Potions essay yet? I need to compare notes,” he’d say, leaning in a little too close, his cat-like eyes sparkling with mischief. You’d find it hard to focus on anything else but the way he always seemed so effortless, so effortlessly perfect, in that moment.
And then there were the times you’d walk to class together. Jungwon would nudge your shoulder with his, playfully teasing you about your latest mishaps or bringing up an inside joke that made you laugh despite yourself. Every time you tried to pull away, tried to create a little space, he would find a way to draw you back in with a charming smile or a lighthearted comment.
“Come on, don’t be like that!” he’d say when you tried to sidestep him after class. “We’re best friends, right? I miss hanging out like we used to.” His earnestness cut through your defenses like a hot knife through butter.
You’d feel that familiar ache in your chest at his words, the weight of longing and guilt crashing down on you. Because deep down, you knew the truth: You wanted to be close to him too. The distance you’d tried to create only made you miss him more, and no amount of pretending could erase the truth of how you felt.
But the more he tried to bridge the gap, the harder you found it to keep him at bay. Each time he would smile at you, it was like the universe was reminding you how weak you were against his charm, how you couldn’t bear to see that flicker of hurt in his eyes when you turned away.
It all came to a head one afternoon when Jungwon approached you as you were leaving Herbology class. He was waiting by the door, leaning casually against the wall, looking effortlessly charming with the sunlight filtering through the leaves behind him.
“Hey!” he greeted, his voice bright. “Want to go grab some pumpkin pasties? I heard the house elves made a fresh batch, and you know they’re the best!”
Your heart raced at the suggestion. You wanted nothing more than to say yes, to spend time with him and enjoy those little moments that felt so comfortable. But a surge of guilt rushed through you, and the memory of your earlier resolution came flooding back. You opened your mouth to protest, to make some excuse, but then you saw his face—innocent, hopeful, and full of life.
In that moment, all the walls you had built came crashing down. The excuse died on your lips as his expression melted your defenses. You found yourself nodding, a soft smile breaking through your internal struggle. “Okay, pumpkin pasties sound great,” you finally said, your heart racing.
A grin spread across his face, and you felt your resolve weaken even further. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, you thought, trying to convince yourself that spending time with him wouldn’t be a mistake. After all, you could just enjoy his company, right? Just as friends.
But deep down, you knew it was never just that. As he fell into step beside you, a wave of warmth washed over you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were only delaying the inevitable.
The more you were together, the harder it would be to keep your feelings hidden, and the deeper you would fall. But as you walked side by side, laughing and talking as if nothing had changed, you realized that resisting him felt like fighting against the tide. And for now, you were too weak to say no.
/ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
You had finally convinced yourself that things were going back to normal. Jungwon was still the bright, carefree boy who always found a way to make you smile despite your internal turmoil. You had managed to keep your growing feelings buried under layers of friendship, convincing yourself that this was how it would always be.
It was winter vacation now, and you had packed your things to leave for home and spend Christmas with your family. You had one last thing to do before heading to the station: give Jungwon his Christmas present. You hadn’t seen him all morning, so after a quick check of the grounds, you decided to stop by the Great Hall, hoping to catch him before you left.
The hall was quieter than usual, a few students lingering at the long tables. You spotted one of your friends sitting near the Slytherin table, engaged in a heated game of wizard chess with a Slytherin boy.
“Hey, I’m leaving soon, how’s it going?” you asked, sitting beside her as she commanded her knight to move forward, knocking out a tower piece with a loud crash.
"Okay so far,” she muttered, clearly frustrated by the game. “Knight to B4."
You watched the game with mild interest but your mind was elsewhere. Your fingers nervously played with the gift you had for Jungwon. You’d picked it out weeks ago, wrapping it in a small red and gold package. You hadn’t worked up the nerve to give it to him earlier, but now, with the looming holiday, you couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Have you seen Jungwon?” you mumbled, glancing around the hall.
Your friend shook her head, eyes still focused on the board. “No, sorry. Haven’t seen him all morning.”
“Bloody hell!” she cursed as the Slytherin boy made a move that seemed to catch her off guard, sending one of her knights tumbling. You couldn’t help but smile at her frustration, though your thoughts were still preoccupied with finding Jungwon before you left.
“Have you told him yet?” your friend suddenly asked, turning her attention to you with a raised brow.
You stiffened immediately, your eyes darting to the Slytherin boy sitting across from her, trying to gauge if he was paying attention. He had a reputation for being a bit of a troublemaker, and you didn’t want anyone knowing about your secret crush on Jungwon—least of all some nosy Slytherin.
“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I haven’t said anything, and I’m not going to.”
Your friend groaned. “Come on! The year is almost over! You can’t live the rest of your life without confessing to him!”
“I think that’s exactly how I’m going to live, thank you very much,” you muttered, glancing down at the present in your hands.
"You can't just resolve to that! Think about Jungwon—"
Before you could respond, the Slytherin boy, clearly more aware of the conversation than you’d realized, suddenly blurted out in a loud voice, “Wait—you have a crush on Ju—?!”
Panic shot through you like lightning. Without thinking, you whipped out your wand, pointing it directly at him. “Silencio!”
The boy’s mouth instantly sealed shut, his eyes widening as he frantically touched his lips, trying to speak but failing.
You sighed in relief, lowering your wand as the embarrassment burned hot under your skin. You could hear your heart thundering in your ears, praying that no one else had heard him.
But then, like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured over you, you heard a familiar voice behind you.
“What was that?”
Your blood ran cold as you turned around to see Jungwon standing just a few feet away, an amused yet confused expression on his face. His eyes flickered between you, your friend, and the Slytherin boy with the silenced mouth.
“Oh! Nothing! Nothing!” you blurted out, your voice coming out much too high-pitched. Desperation clawed at you as you tried to think of an escape.
Without thinking, you thrust the present into Jungwon’s hands, your face burning with a mix of panic and embarrassment. “Here! Merry Christmas!” you said in a rush, not even giving him a chance to respond before you turned on your heel.
“See ya!” you called over your shoulder, barely hearing his confused response as you quickly made your way to the door.
Before he could ask any more questions, or worse—before you could see the realization in his eyes—you apparated, leaving the Great Hall, Jungwon, and your mortifying secret behind.
But even as you vanished, the feeling of dread remained, sinking deep into your chest. You had a sinking suspicion that this was far from over.
Jungwon stood there, completely baffled, his eyes darting between where you had just disappeared and the sight of your friend, now dragging the silenced Slytherin boy away.
“Merry Christmas, Jungwon!” your friend called out, giving him a sheepish wave, while struggling to keep the Slytherin from escaping her grip. The Slytherin boy looked desperate, his mouth still magically sealed, gesturing wildly like he had something extremely important to say.
Jungwon frowned, even more confused now. “Uh, yeah… Merry Christmas…” he mumbled back, though his voice trailed off as he watched them disappear out of the Great Hall.
Once again, he found himself standing there, alone, confusion swirling in his mind. His heart sank a little, a feeling that had been happening far too often recently. Why had you rushed off so suddenly? You’d barely said a word to him, and now you were gone, just like that. And that Slytherin boy—what had he been trying to say?
Jungwon let out a sigh, feeling a strange ache in his chest as he looked down at the gift in his hands. It was small but carefully wrapped, the red and gold paper neatly folded with a ribbon tied around it. He could see the care you’d put into wrapping it, and for a moment, his heart warmed. He ran his fingers over the smooth wrapping paper, caressing it gently, lost in thought.
The gift felt personal—intimate, even—and that made the confusion gnaw at him even more. Why had you been acting so distant lately? He thought everything between you two was fine, but in recent weeks, there had been this unspoken tension hanging in the air, and he didn’t understand why. Every time he tried to get close to you, you’d pull away, always with some excuse or sudden distraction. Yet here you were, giving him a Christmas present with a sense of urgency that left him reeling.
Jungwon sighed again, holding the present tightly in his hands. He was used to spending time with you—best friends, you’d always said—but this year had been different. Something had shifted, and he didn’t know how to fix it.
He glanced back at the empty space where you’d stood moments before, your rushed goodbye still echoing in his ears. A frown tugged at the corners of his lips as the confusion settled deeper inside him.
What is going on with you? he wondered.
With a heavy heart, Jungwon turned and left the Great Hall, the neatly wrapped present still clutched in his hands. As he walked back to the Hufflepuff common room, the only sound accompanying him was the soft crinkle of the gift’s wrapping beneath his fingers.
/ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
Christmas morning was filled with the warmth of your family’s laughter and the soft glow of the tree lights. You sat with your family, unwrapping presents one by one. The room was filled with the scent of pine and hot chocolate, and the crackling fire provided a cozy backdrop to the happy chatter. As you opened your presents, your fingers brushed against one package in particular—Jungwon’s gift.
Your heart skipped a beat as you carefully peeled back the wrapping paper. Inside was a collection of small items, thoughtful things that you had mentioned to him over the years—like a special bookmark you had once admired, a cute keychain shaped like a cat, and even a few snacks you loved. You couldn’t help but smile softly, touched by how much attention he had paid to every little detail.
But then, nestled in the middle of the box, something else caught your attention—a flower ring. Your breath hitched, and memories flooded back instantly. It was just like the ones he used to make for you, back when you two would sit outside the Herbology classroom, weaving together daisies or wildflowers. You carefully picked up the delicate ring, holding it between your fingers as a bittersweet warmth spread through your chest.
Excusing yourself quietly from the festive atmosphere, you slipped away to your room, clutching the flower ring in your hand. Once inside, you went to your suitcase, still sitting by the foot of your bed, untouched since you arrived home. You unzipped it and pulled out a small wooden chest from the bottom of your clothes. With a deep breath, you took out a tiny key you kept on a chain and unlocked the chest.
Inside were all the flower rings Jungwon had made for you over the years. Each one carefully preserved, kept fresh and vibrant thanks to a charm you had created. The flowers hadn’t withered or faded at all—they looked as alive as the day he gave them to you. You stared at them for a moment, your heart heavy with the weight of the memories they carried.
You gently placed the new ring inside, its delicate petals fitting perfectly with the others. For a moment, you just sat there, looking at the collection of flower rings.
You had tried so hard to push him away, yet here you were, still treasuring every little thing he gave you. Your heart ached, and you knew that no matter how much distance you tried to put between you and Jungwon, he would always be a part of you.
Meanwhile, back at his home, Jungwon was sitting by his family’s Christmas tree, surrounded by wrapping paper and the sound of his siblings playing nearby. He had just finished opening presents from his family when he finally reached yours. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he carefully unwrapped it.
Inside, he found a selection of sweets—pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans—the same treats you two had shared over the years. He chuckled softly, remembering all the times you had sat together, laughing at the strange flavors and chasing after runaway chocolate frogs.
But what caught his attention most was a small box tucked underneath the sweets. He opened it to find a silver necklace with a delicate latch. Curiously, he opened the locket, and his heart swelled when he saw the tiny moving picture inside. It was a magical photograph of the two of you as kids, hugging each other and laughing.
Jungwon’s mind flashed back to that moment. Your faces were flushed from eating too much candy, and you had been too hyper for his grandmother to get a proper picture. You had kept bouncing around, giggling uncontrollably, but somehow she had managed to capture this one perfect moment—a snapshot of pure joy and innocence.
A soft smile spread across his face as he closed the locket and put the necklace on, letting it hang around his neck. The weight of the memory pressed gently against his heart. You had always been there for him, through every laugh and every quiet moment. Even now, despite the distance that had grown between you recently, you were still his best friend, and this gift was a reminder of that bond.
But as he sat there, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the locket, a flicker of something deeper tugged at his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you two, even if he couldn’t quite put it into words.
/ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
After Christmas break, you threw yourself into your studies, determined to keep your mind off everything. Spending time with your friends became a welcome distraction, and although you and Jungwon still talked, it was nothing like it used to be. The effortless conversations and shared moments now felt strained and few. You told yourself it was for the best.
You were also relieved to see that your friend had seemingly handled the Slytherin boy who had nearly spilled your secret before the break. You had no idea how she’d managed it, but he had kept his mouth shut, and for that, you were grateful. Maybe, just maybe, this would all blow over.
But deep down, you knew you were never that lucky.
It was during Potions class when it all started to unravel. A flying note fluttered towards you, landing on your desk with a light thud. You frowned, glancing around before snatching it from the air. Your heart sank as soon as you opened it.
“Have a little crush now, do we?”
You stiffened, panic creeping in as you turned your head to see two Slytherins smirking at you from across the room. Their smug faces made your stomach churn. You glared at them, trying to look unfazed, but the anxiety bubbling inside you was impossible to ignore.
Great, you thought bitterly, just when I thought life couldn’t get any worse.
The Slytherin boy had obviously snitched, despite whatever threats your friend had used to keep him quiet. Of course, it wasn’t enough. It never was.
After class, you didn’t waste time. You stormed up to the two Slytherins, heart pounding. “You two better keep your mouths shut,” you snapped, voice low and threatening.
One of them, a tall boy with a smug grin, raised an eyebrow. “And why should we do that? What’s in it for us?”
“Because he can’t know!” you hissed, your voice breaking with a hint of desperation.
“Fine, fine,” the other boy said with a dismissive wave, but you didn’t trust it for a second. Their smirks said it all—they were playing a game, and you were at their mercy.
Your worst fears came true sooner than you’d imagined.
You were sitting in the courtyard with a few friends, enjoying the afternoon. You had almost forgotten about the note, about the smirking Slytherins. That is, until Jungwon approached.
“Hey…” His voice was soft but unsure, and immediately, your stomach twisted. “Do you… do you have a crush on me?” he asked, his voice hesitant but piercing.
The words hit you like a thunderclap, and you froze, your heart thudding in your chest.
No. No, no, no.
“What!? Where did you hear that?” you asked, feigning confusion, but your voice wavered.
Jungwon looked down, fidgeting awkwardly. “Somewhere… but is it true?”
You could feel your friends’ eyes on you, their silent encouragement hanging in the air. But all you felt was dread. You swallowed hard, your palms sweaty as you avoided Jungwon’s gaze.
“I…” you started, barely above a whisper. The weight of the truth was suffocating. You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “Yes. I do. I’ve liked you since fourth year,” you admitted quietly, your voice trembling.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
“Oh…” Jungwon began, and the moment you heard his tone, your heart shattered. You already knew what he was going to say next. You braced yourself for the rejection that was bound to come, a lump forming in your throat.
“I’m sorry…” Jungwon continued, but you cut him off, panic rising.
“No, no, it’s okay! You don’t have to say anything!” you rushed out, your voice frantic. “I get it. I mean, who would like me back, right?” You forced a laugh, but it came out strangled, your eyes burning with unshed tears.
Jungwon looked shocked, his eyes wide as if he didn’t know what to say. But you couldn’t bear to hear it. You couldn’t stand the pity in his eyes, the inevitable words of rejection that would follow.
“Would you look at the time! I—I have to go!” you stammered, scrambling to gather your things. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond. You just ran.
You ran, ignoring the calls of your friends, ignoring Jungwon’s shouts for you to wait. Your vision blurred with tears, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.
You needed to get away. Away from him. Away from the truth. Away from everything.
You stopped running when you reached the hallway, the familiar space bringing a wave of nostalgia mixed with sorrow. It had been months since you’d last set foot here, and the darkness felt heavy, almost suffocating.
With trembling hands, you pulled out your wand, your fingers shaking as you whispered, “Lumos.” The tip lit up, illuminating the dim corridor. As you made your way behind the statue, you slid down to the floor, feeling the cool stone against your back. The light flickered softly, creating shadows that danced around you, and you finally allowed yourself to cry.
Hot tears streamed down your cheeks, a mix of frustration and sadness flooding your heart. You sat there, surrounded by darkness, the only source of light your wand as you let your emotions pour out. It felt like an eternity, lost in your thoughts, until the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, breaking the stillness.
You quickly wiped your eyes, hastily muttering, “Nox,” extinguishing your wand’s light and plunging yourself into darkness. You sat there in silence, heart racing, unsure if you wanted to be seen.
“I know you’re there,” a familiar voice broke through the gloom, and your heart sank. Jungwon’s voice was unmistakable. You had hoped to escape him, but now he was here, and the reality of that made your heart ache even more.
“Lumos,” Jungwon said, and the hallway brightened again. You shielded your eyes from the sudden light, but there was no hiding from him. Jungwon stood before you, concern etched across his features.
“What are you doing here…” you managed, trying to sound indifferent, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you.
“I… was looking for you,” he answered, his expression softening. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the space beside you.
You shrugged, but he sat down anyway, crossing his legs in front of you. You could see the worry in his eyes, and it made your stomach twist. With a quiet sigh, you pulled out your wand again, muttering “Lumos” to brighten the area further.
“What do you want?” you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral, but a hint of sadness seeped through.
Jungwon reached under his robes and pulled out a familiar chest, the sight of it causing your heart to skip a beat. “Alohomora,” he said, and the chest clicked open, revealing the flower rings you had once cherished.
“You kept them…” he murmured, his voice filled with disbelief.
“Of course I did…” you mumbled, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. “They mean a lot to me…”
“How are they…?” Jungwon asked softly, and you knew he was referring to the charm you had created.
“I made a charm so they would stay fresh…” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, but your heart was racing.
“Wow…” Jungwon breathed, staring at the rings as if they were treasures.
You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment. “How did you find it?” you asked, genuinely curious.
“Amelia…” Jungwon replied, and you couldn’t help but groan.
“Ah, I’m gonna kill her,” you muttered, frustration lacing your words.
“Can I please…” Jungwon hesitated, searching for the right words. “You ran before I could finish,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours.
“Finish what? Your rejection? No thanks,” you shot back, the hurt from earlier surfacing again.
“No, listen,” he insisted, his tone earnest. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for letting you keep your feelings away from me for so many years.”
You blinked, taken aback by his admission. The confession hung in the air between you like a fragile thread, stretching taut with unspoken emotions. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.
“I—” you started but faltered. The weight of his words settled heavily on your heart. “You don’t understand…” you whispered, finally looking into his eyes.
“I do,” Jungwon interrupted gently. “I know it must’ve been hard for you, hiding how you felt. But I didn’t want you to feel like you had to. I care about you, and I always have.”
The sincerity in his voice made your heart race. The walls you’d built up around your feelings began to tremble. “Then why did you let me run away?” you asked, a hint of desperation creeping into your tone.
“Because I didn’t know how to handle it,” he admitted, looking down at the floor between you. “I was scared of ruining what we had. But running away isn’t the answer.”
You swallowed hard, heart racing as the silence stretched between you two. “Jungwon… I can’t keep pretending I’m okay when I’m not,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungwon reached out, placing a comforting hand over yours. “Then don’t. Let’s figure this out together.”
The warmth of his touch sent a rush of emotions through you. You wanted to believe him, to let down your guard and embrace the possibility of something more. But doubt lingered, and the fear of losing him loomed large.
“Together…” you echoed, feeling the weight of his words.
“Together,” Jungwon affirmed, his eyes steady and sincere.
/ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
A few weeks had passed since that moment of truth in the hallway, and things had settled into a new rhythm between you and Jungwon. Your friendship blossomed into something deeper, and though you felt the lingering awkwardness at times, you both navigated it.
One afternoon, you found yourself wandering back to that familiar hallway, drawn by nostalgia and a craving for a sweet treat. You pulled out a small stash of candy from your bag and popped a piece into your mouth, savoring the sugary goodness. The corridor was quiet, just as you remembered it, the shadows casting a cozy ambiance around you.
“Mind if I join?” Jungwon’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see him standing there, a hopeful smile gracing his lips.
“Of course not,” you said, gesturing for him to sit beside you. He settled down, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. You felt a flutter of happiness at his presence, even as you focused on your candy, a shy smile creeping onto your face.
Without warning, Jungwon reached for your hand. Your heart raced as he took your fingers and carefully placed a ring on your finger. You looked down, shock washing over you as you saw the delicate flower design at its center. “Wha—?” you started, staring at him in disbelief.
“Guess it was time to give you a real promise ring,” he said, a warm smile spreading across his face. Your breath hitched as he took both your hands in his, urging you to face him.
“I promise to stay by your side and love you forever,” he said, sincerity radiating from his every word. The weight of his declaration settled in your chest, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
Before you could respond, Jungwon gently wiped away the tears that had escaped. The tender gesture ignited a swell of emotions within you, and as he leaned in, your heart raced. His lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant, and you blinked your tears away, finally kissing him back.
When you both pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, you searched his gaze, looking for something to say. “Jungwon?” you whispered, feeling a mix of disbelief and joy.
“I’m sorry it took me so many years to realize how much I love you,” he confessed, his voice steady yet filled with emotion.
With that, a surge of happiness bubbled up inside you, and you couldn’t hold back. You threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly, your heart soaring.
Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon had fought a silent battle of his own. Every night, he wrestled with nightmares about losing you, dreams fueled by the realization of his feelings that had blossomed too late. He had watched you through the years, oblivious to the depth of his own care, often drowning in the fears of letting you slip away.
You both sat together after that when suddenly Jungwon leaned over, eyeing the colorful Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll take one,” he said, grabbing a bright red bean. He popped it into his mouth, but as he chewed, his face twisted into a comical grimace. “Soap…” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose in disgust.
You burst into laughter, the sound ringing through the hallway like music. “Oh no! What a horrible choice!” you teased, leaning closer to him.
With a playful grin, you grabbed a bean for yourself, picking a pastel pink one from the pile. You tossed it into your mouth and chewed, your eyes lighting up as the sweet, fluffy flavor of marshmallow burst across your tongue. “Marshmallow!” you declared triumphantly, your face beaming with delight.
“Unfair…” Jungwon pouted, crossing his arms over his chest in mock indignation. His playful expression only made you laugh harder.
“Maybe you should be more adventurous!” you shot back, sticking your tongue out teasingly. The action made Jungwon chuckle, his pout turning into an amused grin.
“Adventurous? I think I’ll stick to chocolate thank you very much,” he replied, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness.
“You’re missing out on all the fun!” you exclaimed, reaching for another handful of beans. “You never know what kind of delicious flavor you might discover!”
“Or what kind of disgusting one,” he replied, still trying to maintain his pout but failing miserably as laughter bubbled up inside him.
“Alright, fine! Let’s make a deal. For every bean you try, I’ll try one too!” you proposed, feeling the thrill of the challenge.
Jungwon raised an eyebrow, considering the offer. “Okay, but if I end up with soap again, I’m blaming you!”
“Deal!” You both laughed as you rummaged through the beans, the air filled with a sense of lighthearted competition.
As the two of you began to taste the different flavors, the laughter continued, with both of you grimacing at the awful ones and cheering for the good ones.
Jungwon looked at you, his eyes shining with mirth. “Okay, okay, how about this: if I try one more, you have to promise to give me a kiss after,” he said, a playful challenge lacing his words.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, is that the only way to get a kiss from you now?” you teased.
“Maybe!” he replied, shrugging dramatically.
“Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal!” you said, determination flooding through you.
With a flourish, Jungwon picked out a bean, his eyes narrowing as he studied it like it was a potion ingredient. He took a deep breath and popped it into his mouth, chewing with a nervous expression. After a few seconds, his eyes widened in shock. “Uh-oh….”
You leaned forward, unable to contain your curiosity. “What is it? Is it bad?”
“Ear wax!” he exclaimed, his face scrunching up in disgust as you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach.
“That was a bold choice!” you teased. You leaned over to peck Jungwon's cheek, but just as your lips were about to make contact, he turned his head, and your lips landed on his instead. You pulled back in shock, "Jungwon!" you exclaimed, your cheeks flushed with surprise. He only laughed, eyes twinkling with mischief.
Before you could think twice, you grabbed his cheeks with both hands, determined this time, and kissed him fully. Jungwon’s laughter faded as he wrapped his arms around your waist, effortlessly pulling you onto his lap. The kiss deepened, both of you lost in the moment.
Suddenly, a voice interrupted, "I always knew they would end up together!" one of the portraits on the wall exclaimed with excitement.
"You owe me 10 sickles!" another portrait chimed in.
"You blithering idiot, how can I pay you for something I never agreed on!" the first portrait argued.
You both pulled back, laughing breathlessly, resting your foreheads against each other as the portraits continued bickering. Jungwon smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, "I guess everyone knew before we did."
"Maybe," you whispered back, "but I think we’re making up for lost time."
Jungwon chuckled softly, holding you close, the warmth of the moment wrapping around the two of you like a spell.
End
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