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4linos · 2 days ago

Text

the letter pt. 3

han jisung x fem!reader

synopsis: after a devastating breakup over the future you couldn't agree on, you and jisung are left unraveling in the aftermath. you wanted a family. he wanted freedom.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, (unplanned) pregnancy, jealousy & misunderstanding, second chances, exes to ??.

wc: 12,385

[part 1, part 2]

It was early. Too early.

The shrill buzzing of the doorbell drilled into Jisung’s skull like a hammer, and he groaned in discomfort, rolling over to bury his face in his pillow. His head pounded from a night spent drowning memories in whiskey, a futile attempt to forget you, so carefree with another man.

It had only been hours since he saw you walking away with him, the way you smiled, your hand cradling your belly. The sharp sting in his chest wasn’t from the whiskey, but from the way you had left him in the dust. You had moved on, and now, a new life had started without him.

Another round of doorbell buzzing shook him from his thoughts. “Who the hell...” he muttered as he squinted at the time on his phone. It was barely 6:30 AM. He had barely slept.

The buzzing came again, followed by a loud, insistent bang on the door that echoed throughout the apartment. His headache flared, and he cursed under his breath. Who was it this early? His eyes were still half-shut, barely managing to process anything as he stumbled out of bed, legs heavy, his body aching from too much alcohol.

The shirt he grabbed was wrinkled and tossed, probably something he’d left on the floor the night before. He barely remembered the events of the previous evening. All he could recall were images of you, images of him, the man you were with. The one holding you close, smiling, while you smiled back, glowing with happiness.

When he reached the door, he paused for a second, running his fingers through his messy hair. There was a moment of silence on the other side. Then it came again,

buzz. Buzz. Bang. Bang.

Jisung opened the door cautiously. He didn’t even know what to expect. But he certainly didn’t expect Lana.

Lana stood there, her usual stern expression plastered on her face, her arms crossed. She gave him a stiff smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Without waiting for him to say anything, she pushed past him into the apartment. Jisung frowned, still groggy from his hangover.

She didn’t even greet him or ask if he was okay. No small talk. Just that look, the one she always wore when she was frustrated or worried.

“You reek,” she said bluntly, glancing at him as she walked further into the apartment, her nose scrunching up in mild disgust. “And you look like shit.”

Jisung rolled his eyes, too tired and hungover to care much about her bluntness. “Nice to see you too, Lana,” he muttered, rubbing his face. “What are you doing here so early? It’s barely morning.”

Lana didn’t answer at first. She was already busy scanning the room, shuffling through a few papers on the coffee table and glancing through the empty space where your old things had once been.

“Looking for something,” she finally answered, but it didn’t take long for Jisung to realize what she was doing. He hadn’t seen any of your things in months, not since you’d left.

“Everything of hers is gone,” he said quietly, crossing his arms. The words felt heavier than he thought they would. The truth was, it still felt like a knife every time he spoke about you. “It’s been gone for a while now. The only things left are stuff I gave her.”

Lana shot him a look, almost like pity, but didn’t say anything. She moved around, scanning the apartment like it might hold some magical clue that was going to fix everything. Jisung watched her, arms still folded tightly, not sure if he should care, not sure if he even could.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Lana turned to face him, her eyes serious.

“Did you ever read the letter she gave you?” she asked, her voice softer now but full of an underlying concern. There was something there, an edge of frustration, maybe even sadness, as if she knew this was the breaking point.

Jisung froze.

The letter.

His breath caught in his chest as memories flooded back. The image of the torn-up letter, his drunken hands, the whiskey-soaked paper, the way he’d thrown it aside as if it meant nothing. He could still feel the bitterness on his tongue, the sharp sting of rejection, the moment he decided to rip it all away because he couldn’t handle the pain. He didn’t even know what was in it, he never gave himself the chance to read it.

Lana was watching him closely now. Her eyes tracked his every movement. And then, when he didn’t answer right away, her gaze followed the direction of his eyes.

He’d left the letter on his desk, half-shredded, forgotten.

She scoffed, her voice rising with irritation. “You didn’t read it, did you? That’s really great, Jisung. You didn’t even give her the courtesy of reading the one thing she gave you, her words. Her truth.”

The words hit him hard. His stomach churned. A wave of shame washed over him. But he stayed silent, not knowing how to respond, not knowing how to apologize for his stupidity. How could he? How could he make up for all the time he wasted being angry, being selfish, and not facing what needed to be faced?

“Can you blame me?” he finally said, his voice rough with frustration. His anger bubbled up again, and he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t. “She moved on. She’s pregnant with someone else’s kid. I saw them, Lana. I saw it with my own eyes. She’s with him. She’s living the life I couldn’t give her.”

Lana’s eyes narrowed. She took a deep breath, but she didn’t let him off the hook. “I get that you’re angry. But you’re being a damn fool.” She took a step forward, her eyes locking onto his with fierce intensity. “She’s not with him. Not in the way you think she is.”

Jisung’s heart dropped. What the hell was she talking about?

“She’s carrying your kid, Jisung,” Lana said, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “You think she moved on? No. She’s pregnant. With your baby.”

Jisung blinked, his thoughts spinning in a thousand directions. It felt like the ground was falling out from under him, his breath catching in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He couldn’t process what she had just said. His mind refused to understand.

“What? What are you talking about? How—?”

Lana threw her hands up in the air. “She didn’t move on. She’s carrying your child, Jisung. She found out six months ago. Six months ago! She didn’t want to burden you with it, didn’t want to force you into anything you didn’t want. She let you go. But you didn’t give her a chance. You didn’t even read the damn letter she wrote you. And now look at what’s happening.”

Jisung stood frozen, the words echoing in his mind, each syllable a hammer to his heart. He could feel his chest tightening, his head swimming with confusion, guilt, and panic. Six months.

Six months ago, everything could have been different.

He never gave her a chance. He hadn’t been there for her. He hadn’t even been willing to try to understand what was going on with her.

“Why didn’t she tell me?” Jisung’s voice cracked, his hands gripping the back of the couch like it was the only thing keeping him from crumbling.

“She didn’t want to trap you. She didn’t want to force you into a life you weren’t ready for,” Lana said, her voice softening just slightly. “But you left. You left without giving her any hope. You chose to shut down, to drink away your feelings instead of listening to her, instead of hearing her out. She wanted you, Jisung. She wanted you to be there, but you didn’t give her that chance.”

Jisung’s knees felt weak. The weight of everything was crushing him, the silence between him and Lana stretching longer and longer, suffocating him with the realization that he had destroyed something he would never get back.

“I didn’t... I didn’t know,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “She never told me. She never gave me the chance.”

Lana stared at him, her face hardening again. “She did, Jisung. She gave you the chance. But you ripped it apart.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “And now she’s doing it on her own. She’s carrying your baby, and you’re sitting here wallowing in your guilt and anger instead of fighting for her. You didn’t fight. You just let her go.”

His throat was tight. His chest ached as if he couldn’t breathe. Every part of him screamed to go to her, to fix it, but he didn’t even know how.

“I—” He couldn’t finish. The words stuck in his throat, caught by the overwhelming weight of what he had done.

“Figure it out, Jisung,” Lana said with a final, cutting look. “Before it’s too late.”

She turned and left the apartment, her footsteps heavy on the floor, leaving Jisung to face the wreckage he’d made.

The moment the door slammed shut behind Lana, Jisung stood there for half a second, his mind in chaos, his heart thundering painfully against his ribs. The seconds stretched painfully long, his body frozen in place, until suddenly it hit him all at once, he couldn’t just stand there.

Without thinking, without weighing his options, he threw on the first shoes he could find, mismatched even, one a worn sneaker and the other a battered slip-on and sprinted out of the apartment. The door clattered against the frame behind him, left swinging half-open.

His head was pounding from the hangover, but he barely felt it anymore. He didn’t care about the dull ache behind his eyes, didn’t care that his shirt was wrinkled and his breath probably still reeked of whiskey. The only thing that mattered was catching Lana before she disappeared.

He found her a few steps away, still waiting for the elevator, her arms crossed, looking tired and resigned.

“Lana!” he called out breathlessly, skidding slightly as he slowed down near her. She turned, brows raised in a mixture of impatience and exhaustion.

“What do you want, Jisung?” she asked, voice clipped.

He inhaled sharply, tried to catch his breath. “Your address,” he said, almost desperate. “I mean—her address. Please. I need to see her.”

For a moment, Lana simply looked at him, studied him. She must have seen the way his chest heaved, the panic, the devastation, the regret clinging to him like a second skin.

Without a word, she nodded once, curtly. “Come on. I’ll drop you off,” she said.

He blinked, stunned at how quickly she agreed, and mumbled a grateful, “Thank you.”

The ride down in the elevator was silent. Uncomfortable. The buzz of fluorescent lights above them filled the stillness as Jisung stared at the closed doors, every second crawling by slower than the last. His mind raced ahead of him, playing out every possible scenario of seeing you again.

Would you even want to see him? Would you slam the door in his face? Would you cry? Would you tell him to leave and never come back?

His chest hurt at the possibilities.

When they finally reached the parking lot, Lana headed straight to her car, Jisung a few steps behind, heart hammering as he climbed into the passenger seat.

The drive was just as silent.

Jisung fidgeted anxiously with the hem of his shirt, tapping his foot against the floor of the car. He hated how quiet it was. He hated the way Lana seemed so still, almost robotic, her face an emotionless mask.

He needed to say something. Anything.

After a few moments of agonizing silence, he turned slightly toward her and asked, almost in a whisper, “Why are you doing this?”

He hadn’t expected to speak at all, but the words fell out before he could stop them. “Why are you helping me?”

Lana’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. For a moment, he thought she was going to ignore him, let the silence suffocate him like it had been since they left his apartment.

But just as he was about to backpedal, tell her it didn’t matter, she spoke.

“You know...” she began slowly, her voice low, almost hesitant. “She told me and Jia about yesterday. About running into you.”

Jisung stiffened, shame curling deep in his stomach.

Lana let out a slow breath, her eyes still trained on the road ahead. “She was upset. Scared, even. She didn’t say it like that, not directly. But I could tell.”

Jisung pressed his hand against his knee, his nails digging into the denim of his jeans to ground himself. He hated thinking that he had scared you. Hated it more than anything else.

“And when she told me what happened... how you looked at her, how you walked toward her like—like you hated her, I guess...” Lana paused, her voice tightening. “I felt bad. For her. But... also for you.”

He blinked, stunned, confused. “For me?”

Lana gave a humorless, bitter little laugh. “Yeah. For you. You were so angry. So broken. And you didn’t even know the truth.” She shook her head. “You didn’t even give yourself a chance to know it. You just assumed the worst because it was easier than facing your own guilt.”

Jisung swallowed thickly, throat dry, the lump forming there impossible to speak around.

“I realized... you’re not a villain, Jisung. You’re just a dumbass,” she said, and despite the ache gnawing at his insides, he almost smiled at that. “You’re scared. You always have been.”

The weight of her words pressed down on him heavily. He couldn’t deny it. He had been scared. He had run from the idea of a future that terrified him, the idea of a family, responsibility, a life bigger than himself. And because of that fear, he had lost you.

He looked out the window, blinking rapidly against the sting behind his eyes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, voice cracking slightly. “For what?” Lana asked, glancing at him briefly.

“For... not giving up on me. For helping me even when I don’t deserve it.”

Lana scoffed lightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “You still have to face her.”

Jisung nodded, setting his jaw, determination slowly taking the place of fear. He didn’t know how you would react. He didn’t know if you would even listen to him.

But he had to try.

For you. For the baby. For the future he realized, way too late that he wanted more than anything.

He had to try.

He owed you that much.

It was early, really for anything other than sleep. But as Jisung stood in the dim light of the morning, standing outside the apartment complex, he couldn’t ignore the churning inside him. His breath fogged in the cool air, his mind racing, his body still fighting the remnants of the whiskey hangover from the night before. His thoughts felt scattered, jumbled in the haze of last night’s decisions. He hadn’t expected to find himself standing here, on your doorstep, hoping for something he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Lana’s car had pulled up earlier, and she had given him your apartment number without much ceremony. She told him she wouldn’t come with him. That it would be better if he faced you alone. Her eyes had been unreadable when she said it, but when she spoke, it wasn’t with the usual sass or sharpness. It was more... resigned, like she understood just how badly he had messed things up. She even reminded him sternly, almost motherly, not to say anything about the confrontation with you, or the way he had torn up your letter.

“You go in there, you don’t mention anything about the letter,” she had said, the warning clear in her voice. “This is between you and her. And I’m not involved.”

Jisung had nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His head was still spinning, his chest aching as he stood here. How was he supposed to fix this? How could he even begin to make things right after everything he had done?

The sound of the car’s engine fading as Lana pulled away was the final push for him. There was no turning back now. He was standing outside your door, and it felt like the whole world was waiting.

His feet carried him, almost mechanically, toward the door. Each step felt like it was taking him further into a storm he wasn’t sure he could weather. The thought of waking you up of disturbing the fragile peace you’d probably built without him made his chest tighten. Would you even want to see him?

He reached your door, his hand trembling as he lifted it to knock. The sound of his fist against the wood felt unnaturally loud in the silence of the hallway. He waited, every second stretching on and on, until finally, he heard your voice.

“I’m coming,” you said, your tone cool, though he couldn’t help but feel the underlying tension in it.

The door creaked open.

And there you were.

For a moment, Jisung couldn’t speak. His breath hitched in his throat. You were standing in front of him, looking so… so beautiful, like nothing had changed. Your hair was messy, your eyes still half-lidded with sleep, but the moment you looked at him, he felt like everything stopped. He missed you more than he could have possibly imagined. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to feel you close again, but he knew that wasn’t what you wanted. Not now.

You blinked a few times, taking him in. His disheveled appearance, the tiredness in his eyes, the slight frown that had etched itself into his features, it was clear that he had come here not just out of guilt, but desperation. He had so many things to say, but when he opened his mouth, the words stuck in his throat.

Finally, your voice broke through the silence.

“Why are you here?” Your voice was colder than he had ever heard it, and Jisung felt the weight of it hit him like a freight train. There was no warmth in your tone. There was no softness, no kindness. Just distance.

He took a step back, swallowing hard.

“I… I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking, raw with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I had to come. I needed to tell you how sorry I am.”

You crossed your arms, eyes narrowing as you took him in. “Why? After everything you said… after everything you did, why are you here now, Jisung?” Your voice was quieter, but the pain behind it cut deeper than anything else he had heard.

He could feel the weight of his past mistakes hanging between you both. How could he have been so blind? How could he have assumed the worst when you were just trying to do what was best for both of you? He didn’t deserve this chance, he didn’t deserve to stand in front of you, asking for forgiveness. But he couldn’t stand the thought of you doing this alone, especially not after everything.

“I know what I said before,” Jisung started, his voice barely above a whisper. “I said I couldn’t be a part of a family, that I wasn’t ready. I… I was selfish. I was angry, and I wasn’t thinking about what you needed.” His hand reached for his pocket, pulling out the crumpled remains of the letter you had left for him, but he stopped himself before he could do anything. The sight of it made his stomach churn.

“I didn’t read the letter,” he confessed, his eyes dropping to the floor, unable to meet yours. “I was just... so angry and upset. I didn’t even give you the chance to explain.”

There was a long silence. The seconds felt like hours as Jisung stood there, waiting for you to say something, anything. He could feel the tension building in the space between you, the unresolved feelings thickening the air around him. He opened his mouth again, desperate to make things right.

“I know I’ve hurt you. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but… I want to be here. I want to be here for you, for the baby. I don’t want to miss this. I don’t want to miss us anymore. Please, let me help. Let me be a part of this. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You looked at him for a long moment, your arms still crossed, eyes unreadable. He couldn’t read you, not like he used to. The walls were up, and he had no idea how to break them down.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to let you in, Jisung,” you said quietly, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know if I can trust you again. After everything…”

Jisung’s heart sank at your words. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He knew that asking for your forgiveness would be the hardest thing he had ever done. But he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t let you walk away without trying, without showing you that he was willing to change.

“I understand,” he said softly, his voice shaking with the weight of the words. “But if you’ll let me, I want to try. I’m not asking for everything right now, but just… just a chance. Please.”

For a moment, the silence between you was heavy, suffocating. Then, slowly, you nodded, but it was tentative, hesitant.

“I’m not 100% ready to let you in,” you said, your voice small, “but… I’m willing to try. I’m willing to take things slow. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Jisung felt like the air had been knocked out of him. It wasn’t everything he had hoped for, but it was enough. It was the beginning of something, the beginning of the possibility of redemption.

“Thank you,” he whispered, stepping forward, though he didn’t want to push you. He just wanted to be near you, even if that meant just standing in your doorway.

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes softening just a little.

“I can’t promise it’ll be easy,” you said, voice still trembling, but there was a hint of something maybe hope? in your tone. “But I’m willing to try. For the baby, for us... maybe it’ll work.”

Jisung smiled softly, the first genuine smile he had worn in months. It wasn’t a perfect answer, but it was a start.

And in that moment, that was all he needed.

Jisung stood there, completely caught off guard by the way you looked at him, a mixture of disbelief and amusement flashing across your face. His eyes widened for a brief moment before he quickly realized the disheveled state he was in mismatched shoes, a wrinkled shirt, his hair wild from the night he had spent tossing and turning in regret. The haze of the alcohol still clung to him like a bad memory, the scent of whiskey faint but noticeable. His heart sank when he realized just how much he must have looked like a mess standing there in front of you.

Before he could say anything, you gave a short laugh, your eyes twinkling, almost in disbelief. "You really reek of alcohol," you pointed out, your voice sharp but not unkind. You took in his appearance, your gaze lingering on the mismatched shoes, the wrinkled shirt, and then, finally, the way he was standing there, eyes wide with a mixture of regret and guilt.

Jisung's face flushed, and he immediately looked down at himself, noticing the mismatched shoes and the way his shirt had crumpled in all the wrong places. He had rushed out of the house, not thinking about how he appeared, only about getting to you, about fixing everything he had ruined. The realization made him feel even worse. He had come to you like this, looking like he had just crawled out of bed after a long night of self-pity and alcohol. How could he expect you to take him seriously when he looked like this?

But before he could spiral into another fit of self-loathing, he heard you laugh. It was soft, almost nervous, but it was there. The sound of your laughter was like a balm to his nerves, even though he knew it wasn’t coming from a place of warmth or affection. You were laughing, but there was a certain softness in your eyes when they met his.

His lips curled into a reluctant smile, the tension between you starting to melt just a little bit. "Yeah, I guess I do," he said, his voice hoarse, his throat dry from the alcohol he had consumed the night before. His attempt at humor didn’t exactly work, but it was the only thing he could offer. He couldn't believe he had shown up at your door looking like this, of all things.

You continued to look him up and down, your gaze lingering for a second longer than necessary. There was no judgment in your expression, but Jisung could see the traces of concern in your eyes, the way you were trying to figure him out, trying to make sense of this strange encounter. His chest tightened as you glanced down at his shoes, then back at his face. For a second, he thought you might close the door on him and tell him to get his life together before even attempting a conversation.

But then you did something that surprised him even more: you laughed again, the sound a little louder this time. The way you shook your head as you did so made his heart clench. It wasn’t mocking. It was more like you were acknowledging the absurdity of the whole situation, the way everything had spiraled into chaos.

"You're a mess," you said, the words lighter now, almost fond in a strange way. The sharpness in your tone from before was gone, replaced by something a little more... tender, maybe even forgiving.

Jisung stood there, unsure of what to do with that. He wanted to apologize again, but the laughter, your laughter made it feel like there was still a chance for him to explain himself. He could tell you had softened, if only just a little bit. Maybe you weren’t as angry as before, maybe you were starting to see him not as the person who had hurt you, but as someone who was truly remorseful.

His gaze shifted, following your movements as you instinctively placed a hand over your belly. You hadn’t even realized you were doing it, but the way your fingers hovered protectively over your growing stomach told him everything he needed to know. You were already thinking about the baby, about protecting what mattered most now. The thought made something warm and soft stir in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t allowed himself to experience in so long. His mind was clouded with regrets about the past, but in that moment, seeing you like this, seeing how much you had grown, both in body and it hit him hard.

"You're pregnant," he said softly, the realization hitting him like a wave. It wasn’t just the fact that you were carrying his child; it was the way you seemed so much more settled now, so much stronger. The woman standing in front of him wasn’t the same person he had left behind. She was someone who had grown in ways he couldn’t even begin to imagine. The confidence in your posture, the way you held your belly like it was the most precious thing in the world, he couldn’t deny that.

You nodded, but there was a slight hesitation in your eyes, as if you were trying to gauge whether he had truly understood what that meant.

"Yeah," you replied softly, your voice steady but tinged with something Jisung couldn’t quite place. "I’m pregnant." Your eyes softened for a moment, the edges of your lips twitching into a small, almost imperceptible smile. But the smile didn’t reach your eyes completely, and Jisung could see the weight of the situation in your gaze. It wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about the future.

He took a step closer, suddenly aware of how much he wanted to bridge the distance between you two. But he didn’t want to overstep; he didn’t want to make the same mistakes again. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable, to push you away when all he wanted was to make things right.

"How have you been?" His question was simple, but it was the first thing that came to his mind. He needed to know how you were, how you were holding up, especially now that he had messed everything up. His heart ached just thinking about it.

You gave him a small shrug, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes, something softer. "I’m doing alright," you said, your voice more honest now. "I’ve been getting by. It’s not easy, but I’m managing."

Jisung could feel the weight of your words. He had no idea what you’d been through, what you were still going through. He had left you behind when things got tough, when you needed him the most. And now, he couldn’t help but feel like he had lost any chance of making things right.

But as he stood there, watching you, feeling the fragile atmosphere between you two, he knew he couldn’t give up. Not when it was so clear that he had so much to make up for. He needed to make things right for you, for the baby, for everything he had taken for granted.

And so, without thinking about it too much, he spoke from his heart.

"I'm sorry," he said again, his voice breaking. "I know I've messed up. But I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever you need, I’ll be there. I can’t undo the past, but I’m here now. Please, let me try to make this right. I want to be a part of this. I want to help."

For a brief moment, there was only silence. Jisung watched you, desperate for any sign of what you were thinking. Your gaze flickered down to your belly again, as if you were thinking about how much had changed since you last saw him. The pregnancy, the baby, the future everything had shifted, and he couldn’t help but wonder if there was any room for him in it anymore.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you sighed softly and looked back at him. "I’m not sure, Jisung," you said, the words hesitant. "I’m not sure I’m ready to let you back in after everything. But…"

Jisung’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear what was coming next, but he knew he had to.

"But I’m willing to try," you continued, your voice soft but steady. "For the baby. For us. I can’t promise everything will be easy, but I’m willing to give it a chance."

Jisung exhaled deeply, relief flooding through him. It wasn’t the answer he had hoped for, but it was enough. It was a chance. A fragile, delicate chance to rebuild everything he had lost.

"Thank you," he whispered, his eyes shining with gratitude. "I won’t mess this up. I swear."

You nodded slowly, a quiet understanding passing between you two. Neither of you knew exactly what the future held, but for the first time in a long while, Jisung felt like there was hope.

The air between you and Jisung was heavy with unspoken words, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped altogether. Neither of you moved, each of you waiting for the other to say something, but it seemed like the silence was doing its job for now. It wasn’t awkward, not really, just... filled with the weight of everything that had happened.

Then, as if a quiet realization settled in, you spoke, breaking the tension with a soft offer. “Would you like to come in?”

Jisung blinked, caught off guard by your calm tone. For a moment, he simply stood there, his feet planted on the floor, almost as if he wasn’t sure what you were implying. The request wasn’t what he’d expected. He had come here thinking this would be another painful confrontation, something that might make the gap between you two even wider. Instead, you were inviting him in offering a space where you could both breathe.

After a beat of hesitation, Jisung nodded. It wasn’t the grand gesture he’d imagined, but it was enough. It was the first step.

"Yeah," he said softly, almost to himself, as if the invitation was something he had been hoping for without realizing it. "I’d like that."

You stepped aside, holding the door open just enough for him to pass. His eyes lingered on you for a second longer than necessary before he moved past you into the apartment. It felt surreal, the sudden shift from anger and hurt to a fragile kind of calm that seemed to hang in the air like fog, both of you treading carefully through it.

The inside of your apartment was cozy, nothing too extravagant, but it had a quiet, homey warmth to it. The light streaming in from the window made everything feel softer, gentler. As you moved into the kitchen to start preparing your tea, Jisung took a seat in the small dining area. His eyes wandered over the room, his gaze catching on something unexpected: two ultrasound pictures stuck to the fridge with a magnet.

It was like a punch to the gut.

The realization hit him before he could process it fully: the baby, his baby, was real. The ultrasound images, two of them, one from earlier in your pregnancy and the other more recent were right there in front of him, displayed so casually, as though it wasn’t the kind of thing that would completely change everything in his life.

He stared at them for a few moments, his breath catching in his throat. His mind spiraled again, and for a second, he almost forgot where he was. The weight of it all settled on his chest: the baby that was growing inside of you, the future that was unfolding whether he was ready for it or not.

You noticed where his attention had gone, and without turning around, you spoke. “Yeah, I guess I’ve been keeping them there to remind me that it’s real,” you said, your voice low. “It still feels surreal sometimes, even with everything going on.”

Jisung didn’t know what to say to that. His mind was still working through the images on the fridge, but there was something about the way you said it, something so matter-of-fact that made him want to be there. To be a part of that reality. But as quickly as that thought came, the flood of guilt followed it. He wasn’t sure he even deserved a place in that future, but the idea of walking away from it again seemed impossible.

“I never wanted to leave,” Jisung said suddenly, his voice cracking just a little. You could hear the sincerity in his words, the rawness of it. His eyes were on the ultrasound pictures, but you knew he wasn’t just talking about the baby now. He was talking about everything. About you.

He was sorry. You could hear it in his voice.

You took a slow breath and, without thinking, began to gather the tea bags and cups. You could feel the weight of his words, but the tension in the air was still too thick to address it fully. You needed to give it some space before you let everything out.

Jisung followed your lead, though, moving to the kitchen to help you. He was tentative at first, like he was worried that being too close would make things worse. But his eyes didn’t leave you as you began preparing the tea, the soft clink of the ceramic cups filling the space between your words. You looked up at him as you set the kettle down and asked, “Do you want sugar or anything?”

Jisung paused for a second, considering the question, before shaking his head. “No, just straight. Thanks,” he said quietly. He watched you as you made the tea, your movements fluid and familiar, and in that moment, something about it made his chest tighten. Everything about you felt so... settled now, so different than the chaos of the past.

When you handed him the steaming cup, he took it gratefully, his fingers brushing yours in the process. The contact was small, but it felt significant, like a small thread of connection that hadn’t been completely severed.

You both moved to the small living area after that, sitting across from each other at the table. For a while, you sipped your tea in silence, the sound of the quiet ticking clock in the background the only thing breaking the stillness.

Finally, you set your cup down and looked at him, really looked at him. The expression on your face was softer than before, but there was still a guardedness there. It wasn’t anger anymore, not like it had been the last time you saw each other, but there was an undeniable caution. The sting of everything you had been through still hung between you two.

“Jisung,” you began slowly, your voice almost too calm for what was about to come next. “I didn’t... I didn’t want any of this to happen.” You paused, collecting your thoughts before continuing. “I didn’t want to push you away, but I also couldn’t keep holding on to something that wasn’t... real anymore. I wanted to make this work with you, more than anything, but I needed to know that I was enough, that I wasn’t just waiting around for something to fall apart.”

He nodded, his throat tight. He could feel the sincerity in your words, but it was difficult to take it all in without feeling the weight of his own mistakes. He had let his fear, his pride, get in the way of something that could have worked. Could have meant something more.

“I get it,” Jisung said, his voice barely a whisper. “I wasn’t there when you needed me to be. I let my own bullshit cloud everything, and I—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. He needed to get this out. “I didn’t want to be a father, but I never stopped wanting you. I just... I didn’t know how to fix everything I broke.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him. His eyes were full of regret, but there was something else there too: determination. Like he was willing to do whatever it took to make it right, even if it meant starting from scratch.

“I’m not perfect either,” you said softly. “I made mistakes too. I wasn’t honest with you about how scared I was. I didn’t let you in. I didn’t... I didn’t let you be part of this because I thought I could do it all on my own.” You let out a small, bitter laugh. “Turns out I can’t.”

Jisung’s eyes softened at that. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he said, his voice steady now. “I’m not asking for everything to be fixed in one day. But I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

You looked down at your cup, swirling it absentmindedly before meeting his gaze again. “I don’t know if I’m ready to let you back in,” you said, your voice quiet, almost apologetic. “But... I’m willing to try.“

Jisung didn’t speak right away, but the quiet relief in his eyes was unmistakable. You weren’t saying you were ready to forgive him completely, but you were willing to take the first step, the most important one. He could work with that. He’d take whatever you were willing to give.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I swear, I won’t mess this up.”

You nodded slowly, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You weren’t sure what the future would look like, but at least, for now, you were both willing to find out.

As the door clicked shut behind Jisung, you stood there for a moment, your hand still resting on the doorframe. The quietness of your apartment felt almost too loud after everything that had happened. You took a slow, deep breath, feeling the tension leave your body in waves. It was as if the moment he stepped out, a weight you hadn’t even realized you were carrying was finally lifted off your shoulders.

For the first time in months, you felt something that resembled peace, something you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. The tightness in your chest that had been there ever since everything fell apart had started to ease, just a little. The storm inside of you, the one that had raged every time you thought about him, about what could have been seemed quieter now. You hadn’t expected it, but the feeling of calm that washed over you was almost surprising.

You walked slowly back to the couch, each step lighter than the last, and gingerly sat down. The soft hum of the city outside your window mixed with the calmness inside, a strange but comforting contrast. You rubbed your belly absently, still feeling the warmth from the conversation you’d had with Jisung. It hadn’t been perfect, it never could be, but it was the first real conversation the two of you had in months. It felt like a small start, an opening to something that could, maybe, be better.

As you leaned back into the cushions, your mind replayed moments from the conversation. Jisung’s sincerity, the way his eyes softened when he spoke about wanting to be there for you and the baby, even when he had no idea how to fix the mess he’d made. It had been raw, real, and full of regret, but also hope. He wasn’t expecting things to be fine overnight, and neither were you. But that first step? The one where he admitted that he had been wrong, and that he wanted to try? That was everything. It meant more than the words themselves, more than the mistakes he had made. It was a promise. A promise that he would try to make it right, no matter how long it took.

You pressed your palm to your belly and let out a soft exhale. That feeling of warmth and comfort began to spread through you, almost like the little kicks that had become more frequent lately. You closed your eyes, focusing on the movement inside you, each little nudge a reminder of the life you were creating. It was as though the baby inside of you could sense that something had shifted, that you were making the decision to move forward in a way that felt right, not just for you, but for them, too.

The tiny movements against your hand felt almost like reassurance, like a little voice whispering in your heart: It’s okay. You’re doing the right thing. You’re not alone. The idea that Jisung might really try this time, that he might actually want to be there for both you and the baby, settled in your chest like a comforting embrace. You weren’t sure if you were ready to let him all the way in yet, there was still so much hurt, so many walls to tear down, but the thought that you might finally have the chance to build something together, something stable, was enough for now.

A second chance. That’s what you had just given him. A second chance to prove that he could do what he had promised. And a second chance for you, too. A chance to heal. To open yourself up to the possibility of something different. Something real.

It wasn’t going to be easy. There would still be hurdles, and there was still so much to sort through. But in that quiet moment, with the subtle rhythm of your baby’s movements underneath your hand, you allowed yourself to believe that things could get better. You could try to make them better.

You let your hand rest on your belly, smiling softly. It wasn’t perfect, and it was far from where you wanted things to be, but it was a start. And sometimes, that’s all you needed: the belief that you could make it work, one step at a time.

The tiny kicks continued, like a reassurance, a little reminder that you were doing the right thing. You weren’t alone. You had made your decision, and now, no matter what happened, you could move forward. You could allow yourself to heal. And, maybe, just maybe you could allow yourself to hope again.

It was the beginning of something new. A second chance. For you. For Jisung. And for the baby who was growing stronger inside of you every day.

After sitting there for a little while longer, soaking in the quiet and letting yourself feel everything relief, nervousness, hope you finally got up from the couch. You made yourself another cup of tea, needing something warm to hold, something grounding.

The day outside had started to brighten, golden sunlight peeking through your curtains, casting a soft glow across your apartment. It made everything feel even more surreal, like the heavy fog that had been hanging over you for months was finally starting to lift.

You weren't naïve. You knew things wouldn’t magically fall into place because of one conversation. You knew trust didn’t rebuild itself overnight. But still, you had to start somewhere. And you had chosen to start here.

Meanwhile, across the city, Jisung sat alone in his apartment, the overwhelming aftermath of the morning sinking in. He was finally sober now, feeling the full weight of his mistakes. He replayed everything, your guarded but soft voice, the look in your eyes when you told him you were willing to try. It was a second chance he hadn’t deserved but one he swore he would never take for granted again.

For the first time in months, he didn’t feel like drowning himself in work, distractions, or alcohol. Instead, he felt determined. He needed to get his act together, for real this time. He needed to show you, not just tell you, that he could be the man you and the baby needed him to be.

The first thing he did was clean his apartment really clean it, not just a lazy sweep. He threw out the alcohol bottles, aired out the rooms, and opened the windows to let fresh air in. It was a small, physical act of change, but to him, it felt important. A symbol of letting go of the past he’d been clinging to.

The next few days were careful, tentative. Jisung texted you, not overbearing, just small check-ins: “Good morning, hope you’re feeling okay today.” or “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll be around.” Simple, unobtrusive. He was careful not to pressure you, to give you the space you needed to adjust, but he wanted you to know he was there.

And surprisingly, you found yourself responding. Short answers at first, but they warmed up quickly, especially when he’d send you cheesy jokes or tell you random little things about his day, just trying to make you laugh. There were still walls between you, but you could feel them starting to thin out, piece by piece.

You were moving slowly, and that was exactly what you needed.

Then, one afternoon, a week later, Jisung asked if he could come by no pressure, no expectations just to drop off something. You hesitated but said yes.

When you opened the door, he was standing there with a small, awkwardly wrapped package in his hands. It was a simple thing, a tiny onesie, soft and pastel, with a silly little duck on the front. He handed it to you with a sheepish look, scratching the back of his neck.

“I saw it and thought...you know, maybe you could use it later.”

It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t a perfect apology. But it was effort. It was real.

And in that moment, you realized...maybe things could really change. Maybe it was okay to hope for something better after all.

So you smiled, small but genuine, and you invited him inside again.

It was a beginning. Your beginning. Slow, fragile, but real.

It happened more naturally than you would have ever expected.

You hadn’t spoken to Jisung much in the past week, not because either of you was upset or because something had gone wrong, but simply because life got busy. He had warned you ahead of time that he would be caught up with work, that there were long studio nights coming, meetings, deadlines. You’d appreciated the honesty; it had been a small, early test of communication between the two of you, and he’d passed. Still, the silence had been a little strange not painful like before, but noticeable. You found yourself missing his casual updates, his small jokes, even just the way he asked how you were feeling every day.

That morning, you had been going through the list of things you still needed for the baby the hospital bag essentials, a stroller, bottles, a few more newborn clothes, blankets and the weight of it felt heavier when you realized how close your due date actually was. Your first instinct had been to call Jia or Lana, but somewhere deep inside you, an impulse stirred. You pulled out your phone, hesitated, but finally typed out a message to Jisung:

"Would you want to go baby shopping with me today? If you’re free."

You didn’t expect a fast reply. Maybe you even prepared yourself for him to say no, he was busy, after all, and you didn’t want to be disappointed. But barely a minute later, your phone lit up.

"Of course. I’ll come pick you up. What time?"

No hesitation. No excuses. Your heart thudded heavily, emotions a little tangled nervous, happy, scared. But above all, hopeful.

An hour later, you stood by the window of your apartment, watching the street below. Jisung’s familiar car pulled up, and you grabbed your bag quickly, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror. You smoothed your hands over your dress, instinctively resting a palm against your belly as you took a deep breath and headed out the door.

When you slid into the passenger seat, you found him smiling nervously at you. “You look great,” he said, and there was something so genuine about it, not just an empty compliment. You thanked him quietly, your cheeks warming, and the two of you set off.

At first, the drive was a little quiet. Not uncomfortable, but tentative. Jisung asked about how you were feeling lately, about the baby’s kicks, about if you were sleeping okay. You answered honestly, and then you found yourself asking about his work, about how he’d been managing everything. The conversation picked up from there, flowing more easily the longer you talked.

By the time you reached the baby store, some of the tension had melted away completely.

Inside, everything felt overwhelming at first. So many options, so many tiny clothes, gadgets, things you didn’t even know existed. You stared at a wall of strollers, feeling a little helpless, until Jisung bumped your shoulder playfully. “Looks like we’re going to need a map for this place,” he joked. You laughed, the sound breaking the last bit of awkwardness lingering between you.

The two of you wandered the aisles together, picking out onesies, swaddles, a diaper bag. He was attentive, reading labels, asking questions, genuinely interested. Not rushing through it, not treating it like a chore.

At one point, you found a tiny beanie, soft and knitted, and you held it up to show him. Without thinking, he leaned down, brushing his fingers over the fabric and then so carefully over the curve of your belly. “They’re gonna look so cute in that,” he murmured, almost to himself. You swallowed hard, trying to fight the sudden sting in your eyes.

That moment, so small and simple was when you truly let him in. Not because of anything grand or dramatic, but because he was just there, with you, in a way that he hadn’t been before.

You smiled at him, and he smiled back, something soft and vulnerable in his expression.

Later, when you loaded the bags into the trunk of his car, Jisung surprised you again by suggesting you both grab dinner, no pressure, he said, just something casual. And for the first time in a long time, you said yes easily.

It was still early evening by the time you and Jisung finally pulled into the parking garage of your apartment complex, the car packed full of bags, far more than you had originally intended to buy. It had been... easy with him today, far easier than you would have thought a few weeks ago. You were tired now, but it was the kind of exhaustion that came from a full, good day, not the emotional kind that usually dragged you down.

You unlocked your front door, letting Jisung in first as he carried several bags over his arms, insisting you shouldn’t be lifting too much. You laughed under your breath but didn’t fight him on it, your back was aching slightly anyway, and truthfully it was nice having someone there to help. Once inside, you both got to work unpacking everything, laying it out over your couch and coffee table. Tiny onesies, a mountain of soft baby blankets, bottles, pacifiers, diapers, little pairs of socks so small they barely fit in the palm of your hand.

You sat back against the couch for a moment, letting out a small sigh of contentment. Jisung settled next to you, holding up a pale yellow onesie you had picked out, his lips curving into the softest smile you had seen on him in a long, long time. "Look at this," he said, voice full of wonder. "It’s so tiny... I still can’t believe we’re going to have a tiny human wearing this."

You chuckled lightly, resting your hand on your belly instinctively as you leaned over to look at it with him. "I know," you murmured, a little awe in your own voice. Without thinking, you both leaned your heads together, admiring the onesie like it was the most precious thing in the world. It was such a warm, natural moment that your heart squeezed painfully in your chest, not in a bad way, but in the way that happens when you feel something real settling inside of you.

But then

BEEP BEEP, the code to your door punched in. The door swung open with a loud bang as three very familiar faces burst through: Jia, Chan, and Lana.

You and Jisung both jerked upright, startled, the onesie slipping out of Jisung's hands and landing softly on the couch. For a long second, none of you moved.

Jia’s eyes widened almost comically, her mouth opening slightly but no words coming out. She glanced between you and Jisung like she couldn't quite piece it together fast enough. Chan’s brows lifted, but unlike Jia, he didn't look angry or shocked, more curious, even a little relieved. Lana... Lana just stood there, her arms crossed loosely, looking more amused than anything else, like she had expected this and was just waiting to see how it would unfold.

The air was thick with tension and awkward silence. You were the first to move, standing up slowly, brushing your hands down your sides in a nervous gesture. "Uh… hi," you said, your voice a little too high-pitched.

Jisung stood too, glancing at you uncertainly, waiting for your lead.

Jia finally managed to say something, although it came out more like a strangled squeak. "We, uh… we just came to check on you! Not, uh, not to—interrupt?" she said, her eyes darting to Jisung again.

You could feel your cheeks burn, but you forced yourself to speak calmly. "I was going to tell you guys..." you began, feeling a little defensive but mostly just embarrassed. "I just… wasn't ready yet."

Chan gave you a small, understanding smile. "You don’t owe us an explanation," he said gently. "As long as you're okay." His words and the genuine way he said them, made some of the tension in your shoulders ease.

Lana, meanwhile, just lifted a brow and muttered, "Well, I’m glad someone finally stepped up," earning her a sharp nudge from Jia.

You glanced at Jisung, who gave you a tentative but encouraging nod, silently telling you he was here for whatever you needed to say. You inhaled deeply and looked back at your friends.

"Jisung and I... we’re trying," you said, the words tasting strange but right in your mouth. "We’re not rushing into anything. We’re just… trying to figure it out together."

Jia still looked a little wary, like she wanted to protect you but was biting her tongue. Chan gave Jisung a small, respectful nod, and you could see the slight relief on Jisung’s face like maybe he had been expecting Chan to punch him or something.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

Slowly, your friends trickled further inside. Lana picked up a few of the baby things, making little comments about how adorable everything was. Jia offered to help organize, and Chan drifted over to the kitchen to grab drinks for everyone.

Jisung stayed close to you, not too close, but enough that you could feel his presence solid and steady by your side. When you caught him looking at you that soft, unguarded look again, you realized something.

You weren’t alone anymore.

Not in the way you had been, not even when you had your friends around. This was different. This was the beginning of something healing, something real, something that could one day, if you both worked hard enough, be a family.

And maybe, just maybe, you were finally ready to let that happen.

The evening settled into a kind of chaotic comfort, the kind that only happens when you're surrounded by people who feel like home.

Jia and Chan were bickering loudly over the TV remote, their voices rising in playful (but intense) competitiveness. "You picked the last movie!" Jia accused, trying to yank the remote from Chan's hand. "You didn't even watch it! You fell asleep twenty minutes in!" Chan shot back, holding the remote high above her head.

Lana, sitting cross-legged on the rug, sighed dramatically and tried to mediate, though she clearly wasn’t really trying that hard. "Just give it to Jia," Lana said, her tone half-annoyed, half-amused. "You're just making it worse, Chan."

You sat on the couch, a little farther away from the chaos, with Jisung beside you. There was a little pile of tiny onesies and newborn clothes between you both, freshly laundered and soft to the touch. You were showing him how you liked to fold them, smoothing the tiny sleeves inward, then folding up the bottom half carefully.

"Like this," you said, demonstrating slowly, smiling a little to yourself at the concentration on Jisung's face as he tried to mimic you. His brows furrowed, his tongue poking out slightly in focus as he carefully mirrored your actions.

You couldn't help but giggle quietly, nudging his elbow when he finally got it right. "There you go," you praised, and he looked so absurdly proud that it made your heart twist in your chest.

The noise from Jia and Chan faded into the background as you and Jisung worked together, folding onesie after onesie, your hands brushing once in a while. It was easy, surprisingly easy. And even though you were still cautious, still hesitant deep down, you couldn’t deny the way you felt lighter around him.

At one point, after folding a particularly small pair of socks, Jisung shifted closer to you slightly, setting the socks down neatly before speaking. His voice was low, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should break the comfortable quiet between you.

"I'm really... thankful," he said, glancing over at you, his eyes earnest and soft. "That you have them. Jia, Lana... even Chan. It’s clear they care about you so much."

You smiled, following his gaze to where your friends were still tangled in a ridiculous argument about movie choices. "Yeah," you said softly, your heart swelling a little. "They’ve been here for me... when I didn’t even know how much I needed someone."

Jisung nodded slowly, his fingers playing with the hem of a tiny shirt. "And... I’m thankful," he continued, voice a little rough now, "that they didn’t treat me like... like I didn’t belong here. They didn’t make me feel like I wasn’t welcome. Even after everything I did wrong."

Your breath caught a little in your chest. You looked at him then, really looked at him. His eyes were open, vulnerable, no walls left. He wasn’t perfect, you both weren’t. You had hurt each other. But he was trying. He was here.

You reached out without thinking, your fingers brushing lightly over his knuckles where his hand rested on his knee. "They know I wouldn’t have let you in if I didn’t want to try," you said gently. "And they trust me."

Jisung’s lips curved into the smallest, most grateful smile you’d ever seen.

For a long moment, you both just sat there, your friends’ laughter and squabbling a warm, distant hum around you. You realized you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time not fully, not truly.

Hope.

It wasn’t going to be easy. You still had to rebuild trust. You still had so much healing to do, separately and together.

But maybe, just maybe, it was possible.

You and Jisung finished folding the last of the baby clothes, placing them carefully in a basket you’d set aside. And when Jia finally wrestled the remote away from Chan and put on some random cheesy movie, and everyone settled down to watch, Jisung stayed close. Not too close, not pushing any boundaries, but close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, steady and solid beside you.

It was a start. And for the first time in a long time, a small, genuine smile tugged at your lips, not out of obligation, not out of politeness. Out of real, tentative happiness.

Because maybe you weren’t alone anymore. Maybe you hadn’t been for a while. Maybe... you were finally ready to believe that you could build something new, something better not just for you, but for the tiny life growing inside of you too.

The next few months passed like a series of soft, tentative steps forward. Nothing was rushed, nothing was forced, it all unfolded in the kind of natural way that only happens when two people are really trying, when the effort itself means something.

As your due date crept closer and closer, the atmosphere around you changed too, like a gentle hum in the background of your everyday life. Things weren’t perfect, there were still tough days, moments of uncertainty where you questioned whether you were doing the right thing by letting him back into your life, but they were outweighed, slowly but surely, by the good days. And Jisung, he made sure you had more of those good days.

He became part of your group almost seamlessly, something you never would’ve expected when you first opened your door that early morning and saw him standing there, a mess of mismatched shoes and regret. It was awkward at first, of course it was. Especially with Chan.

At first, there was a lingering tension between them whenever they were in the same room. Jisung was polite, if a little stiff. Chan was friendly, but you could tell he was holding back a little too, unsure of where the boundaries were supposed to lie. There was a certain unspoken protectiveness that Chan carried when it came to you, and even though you had never given him any reason to think you wanted anything more than friendship, you could understand why Jisung might have felt a little... threatened.

But one afternoon, after you had gone into the kitchen to grab some snacks during a movie night at your apartment, you overheard them talking. You paused, just out of sight, feeling a little guilty for eavesdropping but too curious to stop yourself.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Jisung had said, voice low but sincere. Chan chuckled, a little awkwardly. “Nah, man. She’s strong all on her own. Always has been. I’m just glad she has more people looking out for her now.”

There was a brief pause, the kind that spoke volumes. Then Chan added, “I’m not gonna pretend it wasn’t weird at first. But if you’re serious about being there for her and the baby... that’s what matters.”

And from then on, things got easier between them.

They bonded, slowly, mostly over music at first, it was neutral ground. Chan had experience producing a few tracks for friends back in Australia, and Jisung, passionate and hardworking as always, immediately lit up whenever they talked shop. You’d catch them having full conversations about studio software, instrumentals, and beat progressions, both completely oblivious to the fact that the initial awkwardness had faded.

Jia and Lana were relieved. They had been watching everything unfold with eagle eyes, ready to swoop in if needed. You knew they were still protective of you, but their relief showed in their softer smiles and in the way they treated Jisung more like he was one of them now, no longer an outsider trying to claw his way back in, but someone they were cautiously welcoming back for your sake... and maybe for his own too.

It meant the world to you. Because it wasn’t just about your relationship with Jisung anymore, it was about your world, your community, your support system. You needed them all to mesh, to get along, to coexist in a way that didn’t leave you feeling like you had to pick sides.

And Jisung, he tried. He was there for every little thing he could be.

If you had a doctor’s appointment, he’d move mountains to be there, even if it meant showing up straight from work in slightly wrinkled clothes, with tired eyes but a bright, excited smile. He read every book you mentioned offhandedly, studied every article about pregnancy and baby care until he could quote things you didn’t even know. He was there when you were too tired to get up from the couch, cooking you simple meals (even if sometimes he had to call Lana for help halfway through). He was there when you needed a hand up from a chair, when you dropped something you couldn’t bend down to pick up anymore, when the loneliness crept in during the nights and you didn’t know how to tell anyone somehow, he just knew.

There were late-night calls that turned into sleepy conversations where he told you about his day and asked you about yours, moments where you’d accidentally fall asleep on the phone and wake up to a simple "goodnight" text he’d left after hanging up.

There were moments when you’d catch him staring at your belly with this look of wonder like he couldn’t believe this was real, that he had almost thrown it all away. He’d ask to feel the baby kick, and every time he felt the tiny flutter of life beneath your skin, his entire face would light up like the sun had decided to live inside of him. It was healing, in its own slow, imperfect way.

You still weren’t naive about it. You still had your guard up sometimes, and he never pushed you past what you were comfortable with. You both knew there were still conversations that needed to happen, still trust that needed to be rebuilt fully.

But you were getting there. Step by step. Moment by moment.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the future didn’t feel like a scary, lonely thing anymore. It felt like something you could walk into together bruised but stronger, fractured but healing, cautious but hopeful.

It felt like maybe, just maybe you could have the tiny family you always dreamed of. Even if it looked a little different than you had originally imagined. Even if it took a long, winding road to get there.

You weren't alone anymore. And neither was he.

Your baby boy arrived exactly on your due date, and somehow, despite the chaos and the endless scheduling, Jisung had managed to be there. He had told you countless times that he would make it work, that no matter how busy his schedule was, no matter what meetings or recording sessions he had, he would be there for you. And true to his word, when you felt the first rush of contractions that morning, he dropped everything and rushed to your side.

It was a long and exhausting labor, but with each breath, each push, you felt a sense of clarity. There was no going back from this moment. You weren’t doing this alone. The presence of Jisung, his hand in yours, his voice murmuring words of encouragement through gritted teeth, made all the pain and uncertainty fade into the background.

And when the cries of your baby boy filled the room, it felt like the world had shifted, like everything you had fought for, everything you had hoped for was standing in front of you, in his tiny, wriggling form.

Jisung had been there the entire time, right by your side, holding your hand through the hardest moments and softly kissing your forehead when you could barely hold your head up. But it was in the quiet moments after, when the rush of the birth had settled and you both were left with your son in your arms, that you truly saw the difference in him.

You’d been watching him quietly for a while now. Jisung was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, your baby boy cradled in his arms. His face was a soft picture of awe, his gaze fixed on the little bundle of joy in his arms like he was the most precious thing in the world.

He was so careful, so gentle with the baby, like he was afraid to breathe too loudly in case he’d break him. He rocked him slowly, softly, his eyes never leaving your son’s little face as he tried to wrap his head around everything that was happening. It was such a beautiful, surreal moment that you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh when you watched him. The sight was almost too perfect to be true. You had expected him to be nervous, to fumble a little. But no, he was doing this so naturally.

And then, with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you broke the silence with a teasing comment. “So, this is the baby you didn’t want, huh?”

Jisung’s head snapped up, his eyebrows furrowing as he gave you a playful glare. He shifted the baby gently in his arms, like he was preparing for an argument, but you could see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Really?” he said, his voice still thick with the emotion of the moment, but his teasing tone clear. “That’s the first thing you’re going to say after I just helped bring this little guy into the world?”

You let out a light laugh, the sound a little breathless from the exhaustion of labor, but your heart was lighter than it had been in months. “I mean,” you said with a smirk, “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about what you said, you know? You weren’t exactly enthusiastic about having a baby back then.”

His eyes softened at the reminder, and you could see the shift in him, the genuine remorse that still lingered from the moment he realized he’d almost lost you, almost lost the chance to be a father to his child.

He leaned closer, his voice quieter now, as though speaking only for you and your son to hear. “I know I wasn’t ready back then, but... I’m here now. I’m here for both of you.”

You studied him for a moment, your heart swelling. Jisung wasn’t just holding your baby, he was holding your family in his arms. And there was no question in your mind now: He was ready, more ready than you had ever imagined.

You softened, smiling up at him. “It’s too early for jokes like that, huh?”

He nodded, a knowing, teasing smile finally reaching his lips. “A little too soon. He’s only a few hours old, give him a break.”

The moment settled between you, warm and quiet, as you both let your eyes linger on your son. You couldn’t stop the tear that escaped down your cheek. It wasn’t from sadness, though. It was joy, pure, overwhelming joy.

You reached out and gently touched the little hand that Jisung had been holding so carefully. “I’m really happy you’re here, Jisung. And that you want to be here for him.”

He squeezed your hand back, looking at you with sincerity. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work, for him, for you... for us.”

The gravity of his words sank in, and for a moment, there was nothing else in the world but the three of you, together. Everything that had been so uncertain between you two, all the hurt, the doubts, the tension seemed so distant now, so irrelevant. This was where you were supposed to be. This was your family.

masterlist.

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eri-pl · 2 hours ago

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Be he friend or foe— wait, wrong lyrics. XD

Nice thought anyway, I respect it.

I don't hate AI as much as y'all (yes, ik, it is bad for enviroment and unethically sourced, just like half of the things we buy, but also I find it pretty cool in what it can do, hate me all you want), but yes, when I publish something it's written by me.

I may use tools (AI or not) to check grammar, do low-level beta reading (to tell me stuff like "this needs more descriptions), or use it to kickstart my brainstorming when I'm out of ideas, and use it to "what's the word for [a complicated concept that I remember had a word for it]" when normal search can't do it. Generally the kind of things I could ask a friend for and not feel like needing to add them as a co-author. Except I have very few friends and most aren't native English speakers, so this option is not always possible.

And now I'm not doing even that because a) environment b) people's reactions and I am not going to just go use it and than lie. Well, I do use Google Docs and they have a grammar/style check feature that may be ai-adjacent. IDK.

If it was less controversial, I would use AI for things like "translate this dialogue line to more archaic English" for certain characters. Because this doesn't feel to me like outsourcing creativity, and sometimes is not something I can do by myself. Also grammar / synonyms stuff; low-level editing stuff. Like fixing my commas (if it can do this). Especially when I don't think I know any human both good in English and interested in helping in that particular thing.

Cancel me if you want, whatever. I'm not gonna go and pretend I didn't do a thing I did or that I have a different opinion.

But my fics are written by me, and my pictures are drawn by me and if I post something that's generated it will get a clear caption that it's generated, and one time a year ago I couldn't get something from my head to screen and made AI-gen pictures because I wanted to have a clear vision of how some characters actually look, I did caption it clearly and then I get anon hate for doing it anyway. (They are removed now, less for the AI part and more for the "nobody seems to care anyway" part)

TBH I feel like maaaaybe d4 people in whole world care about whatever I do creatively but also if I admit even looking at any AI tools, suddenly 10 people will take offence, who never even commented at any of my actual work. And I feel discouraged by this, and somewhat bitter.

Oh and also if you want people to admit it when they use AIs, maybe reduce the stigma a bit. Because the surest way to make people lie about doing something is piling a mountain of shame on top of the thing.

No, I'm not saying that I am lying. I am adult enough to admit doing things that are cconsidered shameful. But also, I am over 40 and have close to nothing to lose in terms of social clout. Most people don't have this privilege.

[This is only about using AI with things I publish / share publicly in any way. Using it for having fun on my own (make things I enjoy in private, make songs for phone rings, tell me a bedtime story, give me ideas what new things to try...) is a different thing. I now do it very rarely, because environmental impact, but if it didn't have such an impact, I would do it, because it works for me and is fun.]

PS: Just in case: OP, this is not supposed to criticize what you said. I just saw the post, thought "um, nice, I should make something like this too" and then "ok but what do I want to actually say, what is honest to say for me here" and it got nuanced, and compared to tumblr average, quite pro-AI maybe. No, as I said, even if I'm more nuanced about it, I deeply respect your stance. If anything, I'd say calling people "uncreative dweebs" doesn't encourage them to admit to their past Ai use, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it's just a detail, I overall respect your post and thank you.

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

#vent post #vent #personal #not silm #will delete probably #but also honesty ftw i guess?#idk

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spicyspiders · 2 days ago

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turn me inside out

Mark Grayson x male reader smut

4.9k words

Quiet evenings were a thing of the past when dating a superhero.

Warning for bottom male reader, sex pollen, armpit kink, scent kink, sweat kink (kind of?), rimming, deepthroating, anal sex, and slight cum inflation.

What you thought would be a quiet afternoon quickly changed at the sound of a helicopter drawing closer and closer to where you were. It wasn’t the weirdest thing to see helicopters flying overhead given the world you lived in, but it wasn’t every day that one landed right in front of you.

You shield your face against the wind, struggling to try and peak through to see who is approaching. Your hands fell from your face as the blades slowed down, watching as the head of the GDA got out.

“Cecil Stedman of the GDA,” he said, flashing his badge, “you need to come with me.”

You knew who he was, but it wasn’t from the numerous articles about him on the internet, but from Mark. And from how Mark talked about him, he sounded like a no-nonsense type of guy.

“Am I in trouble?”

“We will be if you don’t come with us,” Cecil responded, and when you looked at him full of confusion, Cecil clarified, “it’s about Invincible.”

You tried your best to not show on your face how the mention of his name affected you, even if everything in your body was telling you to run to him. “What about him?” You asked, trying to keep up the facade.

Cecil pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, “we know Invincible– Mark,” he said his name quietly, like he was afraid someone would overhear, “is your boyfriend. Now,” he said, the helicopter’s blades already whirling back to life, “get in.”

“Donald, fill him in,” Cecil said to the man in the seat across from yours.

“Yes, sir,” Donald said, waiting until you were settled into your seat before he spoke again, “Seven hours ago, Mark returned from an off-world mission. He came back with an unusual,” he glanced over at Cecil, “side effect.”

“What do you mean by side effect?” You asked, looking between the two men.

“We kept him overnight to conduct research, and what we’ve found is that we need your help to cure him.”

“How can I help?”

“You’ll see when you get there,” Cecil answered, “he’s been asking for you nonstop,” he said as he looked out the window, “he’ll be excited to see you.” Which didn’t sound ominous at all.

The helicopter ride turned into a private plane ride, making the journey to The Pentagon shorter. You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or bad with the lack of information Cecil and Donald gave you.

“What’s this?” You asked, looking at the bag in the seat next to yours.

“We didn’t have time to get clothes from your house, so we brought you some of ours,” Cecil answered.

Your head snapped up to look at them, “you were in my house?”

Cecil let out an annoyed sigh, “I just said-”

“We didn’t go to your house,” Donald answered calmly, trying to defuse the situation.

“How do you know where I live?” You asked as you opened the bag.

“We looked in your file,” Cecil answered like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“My file,” you parroted.

“You’re dating one of the strongest superheroes on Earth, of course we have a file on you,” Cecil replied.

The clothes in the bag were a few pairs of underwear, what looked like sleepwear, and in the side pocket was a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. Looking through the bag did little to help your confusion. With what was in the bag, it looked like you were being kidnapped to have a sleepover at The Pentagon.

“What is this?” You asked, frustration more than evident in your voice with how cryptic they were being.

Cecil let out another sigh, “listen,” he started, “all of your questions will be answered when you see Mark,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your knee, “right now you should get some rest before we get there.”

“Okay,” you whispered. Maybe Cecil wasn’t as bad as Mark made him out to be, you thought to yourself as you forced yourself to sleep.

You didn’t know how much time passed before Donald was gently shaking you awake, but it felt like you were barely able to get any sleep.

You’re led down through a facility that by the fifth turn through the same looking hallway, has you confused about how Donald and Cecil can make their way through it without a map. It goes from hallways to elevators, Donald and Cecil taking turns on who has to swipe their identification card to get in.

“Almost there,” Donald says as he presses one of the buttons, flashing you a tense smile.

Your hand tightened around the bag’s handle as you tried to calm your nerves. Though the setup felt oddly similar to when you first spent the night at Mark’s place, just with fewer elevators and hallways, something in you felt wrong.

”Mark is just through that door,” Cecil finally said as you approached two doors. In the middle of them was a small table with a metal bin on top, “empty your pockets into that.”

Your hands shake as you place what belongings you have on you into the bin, Donald giving a small, “thank you,” before he takes the bin back down the hallway.

“Where are you-”

”He’s taking it to a safe environment,” Cecil answered, cutting you off.

“So you can plant spyware on me?”

”We already have that on you.”

”Of course you do,” you responded with a roll of your eyes.

Cecil mumbled something under his breath as he walked up to the other door beside the one he pointed out, the words sounding a lot like, “I can tell why Mark likes you,” but you weren’t quite sure.

“Before I can let you see Mark,” Cecil said as he turned the knob, “I need you to take a shower.”

”I’m not dirty,” you responded, unsure whether to be offended or embarrassed.

Cecil held up his hands in surrender, “we just want to control the environment as much as possible to keep you both safe.”

“The environment is my body,” you replied angrily, “Mark’s body,” you shook your head, “we aren’t a science experiment.”

“You technically are,” Cecil responded, before quickly adding, “I know how it sounds, but we’re still learning. What we have learned is a way to calm Mark down.”

“Me?” You asked, feeling slightly calm now that it seemed that Cecil was opening up.

“You,” he answered with a nod. “While he was off-planet, something affected him and his powers– heightened his senses. That soap in there,” he nods over to the bathroom, “will clean you in a way that Mark will smell you without all the extra scents you wear or pick up during the day.”

“It’ll help him? You asked, looking Cecil straight in the eye.

“It’ll help him,” he answered.

Your mind still reeled with questions, but you took what you could get. If you knew there was anything you could do to help Mark, you would do it.

It felt odd to wash your body that barely had any smell to it, but at least it had a lather. You watched the soap go down the drain as you tried to calm your mind, your hands moving across your body on autopilot.

Though it lacks a smell, the soap leaves you feeling clean, your fingers nearly pruned by the time you turn off the water. You pull the clothes on from the bag slowly, trying not to grimace at the thought of there not being any deodorant you could find in the bag. When Cecil said you needed to be clean, he meant everything.

At least the toothpaste with the toothbrush in the bag had a nice minty flavor to it. You wiped the steam from the mirror with your other hand, coming face-to-face with your nervous eyes. Before you pulled on the clothes you were given, you took a few deep breaths, trying to force yourself to relax.

You approached the door that connected the rooms slowly, your hand coming to rest on the cool knob. You let your forehead rest on the door, counting down in your brain as you get up the courage to open the door.

Between seven and six, you hoped Mark would just open the door himself and tell you that everything was okay now, but as the numbers kept going down, you had to face the fact that that wouldn’t be the case.

You repeated the number one over and over again in your head, and after what felt like the hundredth time, your hand turned the knob.

You open the door slowly, nervous about what you will find. It made you feel crazy because you knew it would be Mark, there wasn’t anything you needed to be nervous about. Or so you hoped.

Mark was pacing on the other side of the door, looking at any moment his feet would go straight through the floor. He looked… not quite like himself.

“Mark?” You whispered, the man jumping at the sound of your voice, “were you waiting long?” You asked when Mark turned to face you.

Out of all of the things your brain had come up with when you finally saw Mark, what you didn’t expect was for his face to crumble and for him to come racing over. He collapsed into your chest, letting all of his weight fall onto you.

You fell back into the door with a grunt, Mark’s arms wrapping around your body protectively. You spent what felt like hours against that door until you both calmed, your breaths synching.

It caught you off guard, your body going tense for a moment before you reflexively wrapped your arms around Mark. You ran your hands down Mark’s back, his body practically vibrating in your arms with untapped energy.

Mark nuzzled into your neck and let out a hum of contentment, the vibration rattling your chest when he let out a louder one when you ran your fingers through his hair. You felt the tip of his nose run across your neck, puffs of soft air hitting the skin.

“Are you,” you started, pausing when Mark angled your neck to give him more room, “sniffing me?” You asked.

“Smell so good,” Mark murmured, his lips dragging across your skin.

“I don’t smell like anything,” you said with a small laugh.

Mark pulled away from your neck, looking as if your words had offended him, “you smell like you,” he said, a crazed look in his eyes.

“Okay,” you responded as Mark sat there, waiting for you to respond, “I smell like me.”

Satisfied, Mark nodded before he closed the distance between your mouths, pulling you into a slow kiss. Though it lacked any heat, you were more than happy to let Mark have his fill, responding readily to it.

“What’s going on, Mark?” you asked, turning your head when Mark instead tried to initiate another kiss.

“Nothing,” Mark responded, a smile stretched across his lips when he moved his hips forward, his already hard cock nudging your hip, “just needed to see you.” You were surprised you missed that, especially given that the only thing Mark had on was a thin hospital gown.

“I can tell,” you responded humorously, gasping softly when Mark moved his hips forward again. “This isn’t usually where we meet, though,” you said as you looked around the room. It looked rather plain and empty with just a bed, a nightstand, and a small table with a single chair. It was much different from your room or Mark’s.

You had to admit though that with the level of surveillance that you were under here, it would feel similar to the few times you’ve been in Mark’s bed at his house. Or, so you assumed. On your way here, you passed by what felt like dozens of cameras, and those were just the ones you could identify. It wasn’t like Mark’s house had cameras, but there was always a level of risk there knowing that at any moment, Mark’s mom could walk in.

“Mark,” you whispered, “are there cameras in here?”

Mark grunted in reply, his head ducking back down into your neck to this time run his tongue across the skin. He moaned into the skin, his hands tightening on your body as he pulled you even closer.

“Mark!” You hissed, trying your hardest to stifle a moan as his tongue ran over your pulse point.

“No,” Mark answered, “yes– I don’t know,” he pulled away from your neck, his eyes flicked over your shoulder to the door before he looked over to the other one, “knowing Cecil, probably,” he added before swooping forward into another kiss, one you couldn’t dodge. “But right now I don’t care,” he said against your mouth, the look in his eye making you shiver.

Mark flew you the short distance to the bed, barely giving you time to hang on. You knew Mark wouldn’t let you fall, but it still managed to startle you, “Mark!” You yelled as he picked you up, before what felt like a second later, your back was on the bed, “warn a guy next time!”

“Sorry, baby,” Mark whined, “can’t help it,” he said, his hips driving down. He pulled away after one last thrust of his hips, tearing the thin hospital gown to shreds.

Mark’s hands moved under your shirt, mapping out the skin he had long grown familiar with. He licked his lips as more and more skin became exposed before he ducked down to get his mouth against it.

Mark swiped his tongue up your chest, groaning as he licked up the moisture he found. You weren’t able to tell if it was water you had missed from your shower, or if you had already started sweating.

It was a nice temperature in the room you were in, not too cold or hot, but it wouldn’t surprise you if you had already broken out in a sweat. Just being in Mark’s proximity tended to do that to you.

Mark’s skin ran hot against yours, his hands a hot weight on your skin as he held you down to the bed. His hands tightened along your hips when his tongue dipped into your belly button to swirl around the sensitive skin.

“Mark,” you gasped, not knowing whether you wanted to get away or stay in place as the ticklish feeling washed over you, “feels weird,” you said, trying to bite back the laugh you felt bubbling up.

“Sorry,” Mark breathed as he pulled away, his saliva already starting to cool. It left the trail of hair leading into your pants matted to your skin, Mark looking grossly satisfied at his work.

A flash of nervousness runs through your body as Mark tugs at your clothing, afraid he is going to rip them off like the poor hospital gown. It wouldn’t be the first time Mark has ripped your clothing to get you undressed.

You brought your hips off the bed to help him out, Mark flashing a grateful smile your way as he pulled them down your legs. When his hands moved to your bunched up shirt below your chin, he leaned down to press his lips to yours.

You pulled away from the kiss with a laugh, “it’ll be easier if you take this off,” you said.

Even though he nodded in agreement, Mark moved back in for another kiss, before finally pulling away when he tried for another and his lips came in contact with your shirt. Once it was finally out of the way, Mark tossed the shirt to join your pants.

You kissed lazily until you were at full hardness, making you feel for Mark. He must have been like this for hours. He moaned into your mouth as your hard cocks met, Mark’s leaking from the head messily as you rutted together.

Precum was normal, of course, but what had gotten onto Mark from that other planet must have caused him to act in this way. What had gone from normal, had been taken to extreme, one of the examples of that being the way his cock leaked like a faucet.

Mark pulled away with a groan, his breath mingling with yours as he took a moment to catch his breath, “can I try something?” He panted.

“Anything,” you responded, not caring as long as his cock stayed pressed to yours.

With one last lingering closed-mouth kiss, Mark slowly moved down your body. You whimpered when his hips moved from yours, Mark surging back up to press a kiss to your lips in apology. Once he had kissed the pout from your lips, Mark continued on.

Higher than you expected, Mark came to a halt, one of his hands going to your elbow to lift your arm. You held your breath as you looked down, watching and waiting.

You gasped when Mark moved forward, not at all expecting his tongue to come into contact with your armpit, “fuck, Mark. That’s so–” So what? Gross? Hot? You didn’t know what to call it. All you knew was that Mark seemed to enjoy it, if the sounds he made were any indication.

Mark’s other hand went to your other arm, lifting it towards the pillow in preparation for where he would go next.

On your thigh, you felt Mark’s cock twitch before you felt a drop of precum hit your skin, smearing into the hair. Was this why there was no deodorant in the bag for you on the plane? Did Cecil know that Mark was going to spend more time than you expected licking over the skin until he managed to get up all of your sweat?

“You okay?” You asked Mark when he moved to the other one and stayed in place like he was frozen.

Wordlessly, Mark nodded, nose buried within your armpit hair. You jumped as his breathing became heavier, the gushes of air ruffling the air. And like from earlier, you had to bite your lip to stifle a laugh you felt bubbling up as the stimulation ticked you.

Slowly, Mark moved away before coming face-to-face with you, his pupils blown wide. Gone was the crazed look from earlier, and instead Mark’s face looked blissed out and overcome with pleasure.

Just as slowly as he had moved away, he moved forward, giving you plenty of time to push his head away. It wasn’t like you were going to, even if his face had just been in your armpit. The salt on Mark’s tongue almost tasted the same as the salty taste on yours the last time you sucked him off, the thought making you groan as Mark’s tongue went deeper into your mouth.

“Wish you could taste how good you are,” Mark whispered, “how good you smell,” he said after another kiss, “how good you feel,” he said, bringing your hips back together again.

He made his way back down your body in sections, starting at your nipples. He swirled his tongue around one before biting it into a hardened point. You buried your hand in Mark’s hair when he moved to the other, the mix of pain and pleasure from his tongue and teeth sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Next, Mark licked down your body, cleaning up the mess his cock leaked out onto skin that hadn’t already dried, paying no mind to his own bitter taste. He dragged his nose as he went further, going right through the thatch of hair at the base of your cock.

Mark groaned at the musky smell, the vibrations rumbling from his chest. Once he finally reached his destination and sucked your cock into his mouth, another followed suit, this time vibrating straight through your cock.

“Mark!” You moaned as the suction, right off the bat, was nearly too much. Your back arched off the bed, your body moving closer for more.

Mark whimpered at the sound of his name, pausing to take your cock deeper. His throat was wet and tight around your cock, the wet walls of his throat clenching as he fought against his gag reflex to take you deeper.

You grabbed for Mark’s face when tears sprung from his eyes, pulling him back up your body. “Easy, Mark,” you said as you wiped through the tracks, “don’t hurt yourself,” you murmured, wiping your thumbs across his face slowly.

Mark opened his eyes as he rested his face in the literal palm of your hand, his tears making his eyelashes clump together, “want you to cum in my mouth,” he said softly like the heat of the moment had caught up to him and he was afraid for you to hear.

“I will, I will,” you said, smiling down softly at him as he turned his face to press a kiss to your palm.

Mark stole a soft, salty kiss before he went back down. He took you as deep as he could, and what he couldn’t take he wrapped his fingers around. He set up a fast, wet rhythm as he bobbed his head on your cock, his fingers slick around the base.

Mark pulled off with a wet pop, his hand moving to the tip of your cock to give him ample room to work as he sucked one of your balls into his mouth. You groaned at the feel of not only his mouth, but at the feel of his hands as he slowly stroked you from tip to root.

Moved onto the second, Mark’s hand moved achingly slow as the tip of his tongue licked the sensitive skin. He pulled away with a slick pop as he pulled into lungfuls of air, watching as you fell apart under him.

“Don’t tease,” you pleaded.

“M’not teasing,” Mark replied, but he knew exactly what he was doing. Especially when he pulled his hand to his mouth and his tongue came out to lick up the bead of precum that had leaked onto his fingers.

Once your cock was back inside the hot cavern of his mouth, it didn’t take long for Mark to get his wish. Your orgasm raced through you, punching out moans from your throat as your stomach clenched around the pleasure you had felt building there.

And like the taste of your cum made Mark have his own orgasm, he moaned loudly around your cock as he drank down the cum that shot from the slit of your cock.

You yanked at Mark’s hair when you could feel overstimulation begin to creep in, trying to pull him off as he continued to suck you off for all that you were worth. Your hand fell free when Mark finally pulled off, your cock giving a small twitch of interest as you watched Mark lick his lips satisfyingly.

You opened your mouth when Mark flopped down beside you, his still hard cock rubbing against you, “what about–” you started to ask, only to be cut off when Mark kisses you.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you breathe.

Mark lets out a hum of contempt as he runs his hands all over your body, “you are,” he sighs. You weren’t really sure how you being one orgasm down while he was still rock hard was satisfying, but you suppose you shouldn’t complain.

Legs tangled together, you kiss until you’re nearly hard again, aided by Mark’s fingers as they dig into the skin of your ass cheeks to bring your cocks together. He pulls away momentarily to open one of the drawers to the nightstand, bringing a bottle of lube back with him.

You turn onto your stomach in anticipation, waiting to hear the telltale sound of the cap opening. Seconds later, you instead feel soft kisses being pressed to your back.

“Not yet,” Mark whispers into your ear, making you shiver.

If he was going to make you wait, you might as well get comfortable. You curl your arms around one of the surprisingly soft pillows on the bed, waiting to feel what Mark is going to do next.

Mark kisses down the knobs of your spin, down down down until he reaches the small of your back. You’re practically shaking by the time Mark grabs both of your ass cheeks and spreads you open.

Your moan is muffled into the pillow as Mark licks slowly along your crack, his tongue only a faint whisper against your hole. It grows louder when Mark finally finds his, well… mark, alternating between broad strokes and pinpoint dips inside.

Mark moans as he spears you open on his tongue, the sound going straight to your cock. His strong fingers dig into your skin, massaging the flesh below his hands. When you clench down his tongue, Mark’s fingers nearly tighten to the point of pain, but a sick part of you hopes– wants Mark to go past that and leave a trace of himself on your skin.

Mark pulls away, but just far enough to spit on your hole, one of his fingers coming in quickly to press it inside slowly. Lax from his tongue and your first orgasm, Mark makes swift work preparing you with one finger, and soon after, a second is joining the first.

On the first brush to your prostate, your back arches, your now fully hard cock coming into contact with the bedspread. You push your ass back as Mark scissors his fingers, groaning into the pillow at the slight burn.

Mark lays a kiss on each cheek as he moves his fingers in and out before he licks inside, between his two fingers.

You moan at the combined feel of Mark’s tongue and fingers, your cock throbbing when a third joins the second, knowing exactly what was about to come. As you adjust to his three fingers, your ears pick up on the sound of Mark’s lubed-up fist around his cock and his harsh pants behind you.

Mark pulls his fingers free slowly, your hole clenching around nothing momentarily before the wet head of his cock was replacing his fingers. His body hovers over yours, arms beside your shoulders as he thrusts inside in one steady movement.

You both groan when Mark bottoms out, his hips coming to rest against your ass. Marks lowers himself down, his body laid out over yours as he lays kisses across the back of your neck.

You crane your neck to the side, Mark already knowing exactly what you want as he presses his lips to yours. As his tongue presses past your teeth, Mark circles his hips, your hole clenching around his cock.

“Ready?” Mark asked, pulling away from the kiss to lick up the sweat on the back of your neck.

“Yes yes yes,” you chanted, pressing your ass back, even if all you came into contact with was Mark’s hips.

Mark pulls out slowly until just the head remains inside before thrusting right back inside. It only took just that one thrust for Mark to pick up his rhythm, fucking you into the bed on each thrust.

The smack of skin-on-skin rang loudly through the room, accompanied by the groan and creak of the bed below your combined weight. If there truly weren’t cameras in the room, it wouldn’t matter because if anyone even stepped down the hallway you were in, they’d be able to tell exactly what you were up to through the door.

Shamelessly, you pushed back into Mark’s thrusts, fighting off the ball of pleasure you could steadily feel grow larger and larger on each one.

Mark panted in your ear, moaning to the rhythm of his thrusts. He moved one of his hands below your body and between your legs to wrap his fingers loosely around your cock.

You moved your hand to cover Mark’s, instead of pulling his fingers down to wrap around the base. You tightened your hold around his fingers, hoping that Mark would get the gist that you were trying to last as long as you could.

When your hand fell away, so did Mark’s. Your mouth opens in protest, but as if Mark could read your mind, his lips were there on the back of your neck, kissing the skin softly in the form of an apology. His fingers moved down your cock and past your balls to press his fingers into your perineum, inner prostate stimulation meeting outer prostate stimulation.

You cum with a shout, stars exploding behind your eyes as they roll back in your head, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

After a few more stuttered-off thrusts, Mark cums. His cock goes in deep, and his cum goes in deeper, making a mess of your insides. Mark sobs through his orgasm, his arms wrapping tightly around your body to hold you close.

Mark rolls you over onto your side, his body curled protectively around yours. He ran his hand softly across your stomach, right on top of where his hard cock was still pumping you full.

“How do you feel?” You asked, your voice rough.

“Good,” Mark replied, tangling your legs together, “tired,” he murmured.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you said, clenching down on his cock.

You could hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke, “could say the same for you,” he said, wrapping a hand around your hardening cock.

“Do you think it rubbed off?” You asked, reaching behind you to grab Mark’s ass when he rolled his hips forward.

“Let’s find out,” Mark answered, nipping at your neck.

#x male reader #x male reader smut #invincible x male reader #invincible x male reader smut #invincible x reader #mark grayson #mark grayson x male reader smut #mark grayson x male reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible imagine #mark grayson imagine

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angelltheninth · 3 days ago

Note

Hey I got into arcane recently. The art is just so goooooood. A feast for the eyes really. And everyone is hot like… help. Anyway, sorry for this loser request, but if you haven’t already can you do arcane characters with a virgin fem partner please

Loser request? I really hope that the loser part isn't that the virgin part, because I will have you know Anon that I am no loser. I am on my way to becoming a wizard!

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Maddie Nolen, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, kissing, virginity loss, gentle sex, praise, cunnilingus, size kink, fingering, orgasm encouragement, aftercare

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I'm also asexual so my chances of becoming a wizard are higher than your average persons. Only a few more years and I can be a better version of Harry Potter! Chat please tell me you know the meme I'm referencing and I don't sound like I'm crazy.

Was surprised for sure

She doesn't exactly have a ton of experience either but she has some

Can't say she's not excited about taking your virginity

Literally vibrates with excitement and anticipation of having sex with you and being the first one to make you come

At least as orgasms that are given by someone else that is, she would like to watch you fuck yourself sometime

Gets pussydrunk so easily, her grin smug and eyes literally shimmering

Really into making you ride her face, as you will learn over the course of your first night together

Has so much stamina that you can never even hope to keep up with but she never expected you to

Flattered that she could make you come just with her tongue

But wants to work on your stamina in the future

At first she thinks that she should tease you about it

Then she thinks better of it, since it's not exactly something to be ashamed of, she didn't mean anything bad by her teasing either

It's just... she knows she's not your first girlfriend, so how come you never had sex before

Nerves, well in that case she'll go slow with you, make sure you're not overwhelmed by her

Enthusiastic as she is she holds back, her fingers spreading you open slowly, only pushing them in a bit and then stopping fully

Doesn't stop talking dirty to you, grinning smugly when she feels your pussy tightening around her fingers

Likes it when you're flustered around her, not when you're uncomfortable

Cocky for sure, especially when she manages to make you come and didn't even need to touch your clit to do it

If she did she would have overstimulated you, you were already shaking so much

Keeps assuring you that you don't need to return the favor, but would love it if you do

Been a while since she slept with a virgin so she's actually a little nervous as well

Romantic dates, candle lights, relaxing baths, a massage, she pulls out every trick in the book to make it the best night ever

There's a lot of soft touching and affirmations from her

Has to battle a smile when you're blushing because she's making you feel good

Asks what makes you feel good when you're doing it by yourself and tries to do the same

Experimenting can come later, she wants to make your first time a nice experience, a memorable experience

Kisses down your body, almost like she's worshiping you

Seeing you sopping wet for her definitely helps her know she's doing a good job before she dives forward to eat you out

Tells you to pull her hair a lot, she won't mind

Keeps saying how pretty you are, how beautiful your moans sounds, how she wants to be the only one you moan for from now on

Feels really happy and excited that you'd trust her enough to be the first person to sleep with

Very touchy with you, not just as she's undressing you but in general, so it doesn't feel like it's too much when she guides you to the bed

Grinning she pulls you into a deep kiss and wraps her arms around you to press you against her, thighs sliding between each other

She guids your hips to move against her thigh, chuckling when she feels how slick you're making it

Kisses you the whole time because it's her favorite thing to do and because she knows it'll calm you

Doesn't go for penetration for your first time

But really wants you to sit on her face and to fuck you with her tongue

Subtly writes her name on your clit

Won't rush you into an orgasm, she lets you chase it on your own, her hands soothing against your trembling thighs

Post-orgasm cuddles are some of her favorite things so don't think this will be a one time thing

Before you told him you were a virgin he was a lot more relaxed

Now he feels a kind of pressure on himself to make your first time good

His first time was a quickie and not that memorable at all

So as your boyfriend he wants to give you a better experience and make sure you remember it for the rest of your life

Teases you to cover up his own nerves

He talks to you a lot, particularly when he's getting ready to push his cock into you

Before he does he does warn you that it can be painful but it won't last long

Shakes while pushing his cock into you, he really wants to fuck you but he's holding himself back, he's being considerate of you

Keeps his thrusts slow, smiling down at you before he pulls you into a gentle kiss, telling you how good you feel around him

Leaves it up to you if he pulls out or not

Genuinely surprised, so surprised he drops a glass and it breaks

Doesn't think you should be embaressed by it at all

Some people take a lot of time to feel safe and comfortable to be intimate with others

He's actually pretty flattered that you want him to be the one who took your virginity

Knows he's on the bigger size in terms of dick size so he really doesn't expect you to be able to take all of him, maybe half if you're lucky

It can be too much for your first time

You can just make up for it by giving him a really nice handjob

Pulls you onto his lap and wants to cuddle you afterwards, he was always pretty protective and caring towards you

Now that he's your lover you can expect that his protective tendencies will get even stronger

Surprised when you want to go again so soon but he won't argue with you

Had a feeling you were inexperienced but he didn't want to say anything

Then you might feel pressured into having sex with him and that's the last thing he wants

Besides if he was only after sex then he could get it easily

He wants more than just a one night stand, by now you know that he cares about you and wants this to be a serious relationship

Just because he's serious about this doesn't mean he can take the day off

Actually he thinks it might be better if happens spontaneously

His cock is rock hard when he pulls you onto his lap when you tease him in his office

You need to learn that there are consequences for your actions

Keeps his hand on your mouth as he fucks his cock into you, it would be bad if you were interrupted for your first time and you don't get that orgasm you've been so desperate for

From this moment on he expects you to be at his full disposal and he will be at yours, naturally, there's a lot you still need to learn about pleasuring a man like him

Tries to hold back her cocky smirk but she just can't, oh this is too good, a hot lady like you and no one's fucked you yet

Just means she gets to be the first one to show you how good sex can be

After she's done with you there won't ever be anyone else that'll be able to satisfy you like she could

Has to brag about her skills but won't make fun of you for your lack of skills

Offers to do it in the 69 position so you can mimic her movements

The best way to teach is a hands on method, or in this case the mouth and tongue on

Even though your own movements are a little clumsy and you can't focus all that well you still try to follow her lead the best you can and believe her she loves that hard working side of you

Smokes after sex, that's a habit at this point

But the catch is that she smokes after really good sex so you should take that as the highest of compliments

How soon can you go again because she would love to keep you going all night long

Well he doesn't have much experience to speak off either

So you can both learn new things, you don't have to be nervous around him

Gets hard for you really easily and has to focus to keep himself from coming too soon

Usually this isn't a problem for him but you've been the object of his fantasies and dreams many times before, he hopes this isn't another one of those fantasies

But the moment he pushes his finger inside of you he's convinced it's real, it feels right, to pleasure you, to love you

Keeps rubbing his cock while fingering you, he wants to show you he's just as eager and excited for this as you are

He moves really damn fast when he finally pushes his cock into your pussy, he can't help himself, he can't hold back, it's almost overwhelming

After he feels your inner walls pulsing and massaging his cock he slows down just a little

Not fully slow, but enough to get some control over himself

Doesn't want you get you pregnant on your first night together but in the future you can discuss such things

Almost comes in his pants from excitement

Now that would be embarrassing, for him not for you, he bets you'd love to see that

Someday maybe you will but for now he wants to focus on your pleasure not his

Eats you out like he's been starving for eternity

You have to push him away to get him to stop, your juices dripping from his mouth and into his beard, making it all shiny

Kisses your thighs, covers them with kisses and bites actually, same with your pussy

His eyes roll back when he bottoms out inside of you, he honestly didn't think you'd want all of him for your first time but you were very determined

That determination should be rewarded

He has always been the giver, he loves making his lover feel pleasure, especially if he's the first one to do that for her

You won't escape his arms when he wraps them around you from behind, pampering the back of your neck and shoulders with lazy, appreciative kisses after sex

You should have told her this information sooner, then she wouldn't have flirted with you so hard

Not that she regrets having you naked in her bed or anything like that, the opposite is true, she thinks she should have given you more time to fall into her bed

But if you're still sure you want to do this with her tonight then she will be more than happy to give you pleasure until the Sun rises

Always had a way with words and praise is no different

She might be three fingers deep in your pussy and making you squirt but she'll be damned if she'll stop talking about how sexy you are or how lucky she feels tonight

Never been much of a cuddler, she was always very guarded, but this is a special occasion

Of course she'll let you return the favor

Don't worry about clumsiness or anything like that, just do what feels right, do what makes you feel good

Trust that she'll tell you if it doesn't feel good

She doesn't really do one night stands but she also doesn't sleep over at other people's places a lot, so if you want to do this again you're gonna have to make your intentions clear next time

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simpjaes · 2 days ago

Note

enha hyung line!mtl into dry humping because bring it back

hyung line and dry humping

(im actually not gonna do am mtl bc i know all these mfs would be into it hehehh)

★ jay:

he'd probably be a little embarrassed by it so only does it when he's really insane, always rutting against you once the makeout session gets him desperate, all breathy and furrowing him brows into the kiss (with sexy music playing in the background), thinking you can't tell that he's practically humping your thigh. you're into it though, and it's like a silent little agreement between the two of you. he doesn't bring it up, you don't bring it up. you just let it happen, and he loves you so much for it because goddamn, you always make him feel like he's spiraling, he can't help it :(

☆ jake:

openly humps you and your things. When you're not home, he'll get himself off against your pillow, or your towels, or just rub up against your mattress while he's half asleep and flat on his stomach. but when you are home, oh. You'll be trying to cook and he's right behind you, pressing his cock against your ass repeatedly. You'll be trying to work from home and there he is, hovering over you with your leg between his, and he'd gently graze his cock on you through his sweatpants :( movie night? hump night. makeout session, he's doing exactly what jay does except worse, way more blatant, and absolutely unashamed by it. p.s. he whimpers every time. and don't even get me started on public stuff omfg. puppy!jake agenda!

★ sunghoon:

he's a happy medium. humps up against you on instinct but only when you're in a heated, intimate moment. he doesn't let himself do it for long tho, and thats bc he's too busy dragging your hand down, or your face, or whatever. frottage isn't enough. raw grinding isn't enough. you though, you can hump on him all day long and, in fact, he loves when you do. when you're sliding up his leg, or holding his hand between your legs and rutting against it. baby girl u can do whatever you want, he'll fuck you if you just ask, but it seems you like to grind, you love to get him all messy first.

☆ heeseung:

heeseung looooves when you grind on him, particularly getting yourself off while he's too locked in to a video game or smthn. drives him crazy. he isn't gonna stop mid game to fuck you, obv, but when he wins, you'd better be on the ground face down and ass up. additionally, for heeseung, he does love grinding himself when the mood is right, particularly when you're both just lazily making out on a humid summer night and he's dimmed the lights in his room. the kind of hands in hair kissing. that's when he's practically straddling you, humping up on you, trying to pull his cock out and squish it between your tits ;o;

#enhypen smut #jay smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut

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basket-of-cats-and-witches · 3 days ago

Text

"You would have me leave this form? Forgo the greater good for the lesser?"

Those kind eyes that I had once known were empty. Filled with detached objectivity, as if I were merely a bug crawling up its coat.

I remembered hot summers. The blessedly chilled wind, the taste of cold ice cream that flooded my mouth with sweetness.

The smell of your shampoo. The way your head rested on my shoulder, rendering it numb over time.

"Yes," I said. "Your greater good is not mine. They are not lesser to me."

The angel stared at me. It didn't seem to comprehend.

Of course it couldn't. How could it know that the instinctive head tilt it gave was yours, that the bitten nailbeds of its fingers were carved by your teeth?

"What would you offer me, then?" It asked. "Would you give up your body for theirs?"

I smiled at that. A wry laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

"No. That would be pointless. They would do the same." I knew it. In the way you had hugged me tightly as I sobbed, in the way you shrieked my name and tackled me whenever we had gone too long without seeing one another.

You were mine.

And I was yours.

The angel furrowed its brow. "Then you would allow for the end of this world just for a few moments more with this vessel."

I nodded. "Of course. There will always be someone else to save the world overall. But there is only one of them. And my world begins and ends with them."

It still did not comprehend, of course. But my convictions remained firm. I would do whatever necessary to bring them back.

And the angel knew that. It knew its mission would end with me.

I watched as the light returned to your eyes. As they rolled up into your head and your body crumpled like wet paper, the force of the angel's presence draining you of your energy.

It didn't matter. I caught you in my arms, as I always have. As I always will.

You are mine.

And I am yours.

The end of the world is nothing compared to that.

horror is always like oh no they're possessed by a demon well what about possessed by an angel? angelic possession is also horror.

#my writing #sorry to hijack your posts you two inspired me #the inherent love of friendship #it gets me ok

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norristrii · 3 days ago

Text

STAND BY YOU.

Engaged on a Las Vegas pavement, you and Lando now look forward to the next chapter—your wedding awaits.

pairing. fiancé! Lando Norris x bsf! fiancée! fem! reader.

warnings. none, just fluff. This is part2 of Stand By Me ! Glad you liked it <3 For better understanding, I recommend to read it first.

THE WEEKS BLURRED TOGETHER in a whirlwind of planning, laughter, and Carlos’s dramatic antics. True to his word, Carlos had insisted—demanded, really—that he would officiate your wedding. The delay for the certificate became a running joke, his overly enthusiastic updates on the process making it impossible to take anything too seriously.

Still, amidst all the chaos, being engaged to Lando felt strangely… natural. The teasing, the inside jokes, the easy camaraderie—all of it had shifted subtly into something deeper, more meaningful. You couldn’t help but think about how absurdly obvious it seemed now, how perfectly it all fit together. Why hadn’t you done this earlier? The thought lingered in your mind, bringing a smile to your face every time it crossed your thoughts.

The room buzzed with excitement as Rebecca, Lily, and Alex worked tirelessly to perfect every detail of your dress. You stood in front of the mirror, the reflection staring back at you almost surreal. The gown flowed effortlessly, hugging you in all the right places and radiating an elegance you hadn’t quite imagined for yourself. Your bridesmaids hovered around you, adjusting tiny details, smoothing fabric, and offering reassurances that you looked stunning.

“Who will walk you down the aisle?” Lily asked casually, her voice breaking through your thoughts. The question hit you like a thunderbolt. Your eyes widened, panic bubbling to the surface as realization struck. Oh fuck. Of course, there was something you’d forgotten—there had to be.

Your gaze darted around the room as your mind raced. The answer you sought came in the form of Lewis. He seemed oblivious to the whirlwind of activity around him, his presence grounding in a way only Lewis could manage. In many ways, he had always been like an older brother to you—constant, supportive, and unshakable in his quiet strength.

You quickly texted him, your fingers flying over the screen as you summoned him to the room. Moments later, the door swung open, and there he was, his expression curious as he stepped inside. “What do you need, Y/n?” he asked, his tone casual but tinged with concern.

“I need you to walk me down the aisle,” you said, the words tumbling out in your moment of desperation. His eyes widened in horror, the surprise evident in his reaction.

“What? Me? I don’t know, Y/n—” he hesitated, his voice trailing off as he processed the request.

“C’mon, Lewis, you are perfect for that,” you assured him, your voice carrying all the conviction he needed.

He raised an eyebrow, his teasing nature kicking in despite the seriousness of the moment. “Do I look like your father? Am I that old?” he joked, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated but amused. “Lewisss,” you said, drawing out his name in a way that left no room for argument.

He paused for a moment, then nodded, his expression softening. “I’ll do it,” he said simply, his voice steady and warm.

The avenue was alive with chaos, a far cry from the calm serenity one might expect at a wedding. Flower petals littered the ground, already prematurely scattered by Kimi and Isack, who stood off to the side with expressions that ranged between regret and mischief. “Can you remind me why we agreed to do this?” Kimi muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with quiet exasperation.

Carlos, however, was having none of it. His booming voice cut through the disarray, rising above the hum of last-minute preparations and hushed conversations. “C’mon, boys! You’re not at a funeral, you’re at a wedding!” he shouted, his arms flailing for emphasis. His enthusiasm, as always, was impossible to ignore, and it served as an attempt—albeit futile—to inject some order into the madness.

By the arch, Lando shifted uncomfortably, his nerves all too evident as he tried not to let the chaos get to him. Carlos stood next to him, a grin playing on his face despite the commotion. “Relax, mate,” Carlos teased, nudging Lando lightly. But Lando barely reacted, his focus elsewhere—on you, on the moment to come, and on the reality of what was about to unfold. Chaos or not, this was happening, and he couldn’t hide the nervous excitement bubbling under the surface.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Lando muttered to Carlos, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and nervous excitement. His hands fidgeted slightly, as if his body hadn’t quite caught up with the enormity of the moment. The chaos surrounding them—Kimi and Isack’s antics with flower petals, Carlos shouting directions, and the hum of last-minute preparations—almost felt distant, the weight of the occasion taking center stage.

“And I can’t believe you actually got the certificate,” Lando added with a laugh, the tension breaking just enough to let a grin tug at his lips. Carlos smirked in return, pride evident in his expression. “I’m a man of my word,” Carlos said dramatically, adjusting his position by the arch with a flourish that bordered on theatrical.

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as he cast a glance towards the avenue where you were still out of view. This was it—the moment he never imagined he’d experience, but now couldn’t fathom it happening any other way. This was happening, and the thought alone made his heart race.

The soft hum of conversation in the avenue was replaced by the first notes of the music, filling the air with an elegant melody that signaled the beginning of something extraordinary. The bridesmaids walked out one by one, their dresses flowing gracefully as they moved in sync, their smiles radiant and genuine. The crowd stirred, heads turning to watch Rebecca, Lily, and Alex take their places.

Carlos, now standing taller by the arch, adjusted his jacket as he stole a glance at Lando, whose nerves seemed to return with a vengeance. Lando’s eyes darted toward the aisle, the anticipation in his expression palpable. The music swelled, each note carrying the promise of what was to come, and the avenue seemed to hold its breath as the moment unfolded.

The soft hum of the music filled the venue as you entered, Lewis walking confidently by your side. All eyes turned towards you, the room buzzing with quiet awe as you made your way down the aisle. You couldn’t help but grin, the joy radiating from you as you took in the sight of your friends standing together, groomsmen perfectly aligned—Charles, Oscar, and Max—all dressed immaculately, each wearing a mix of pride and amusement on their faces.

But your gaze lingered longest on Lando. The way he looked at you—eyes full of love, amazement, and just the tiniest glimmer of nerves—made your heart soar. For a moment, it felt like time slowed, as if the chaos of the world outside had melted away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect bubble.

“I think I’m going to cry,” Max whispered, breaking the spell as his voice carried to Charles and Oscar beside him. Oscar gave him a sideways glance, half amused, while Charles raised an eyebrow in mock judgment.

“It’s not even your own wedding,” Charles muttered, his dry humor earning a quiet chuckle from Oscar.

Max wiped at an imaginary tear, a playful grin breaking across his face. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be emotional,” he quipped, his dramatic flair adding yet another layer of charm to the moment.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, their banter grounding the surreal beauty of the day. But when your eyes flicked back to Lando, the world around you seemed to fall quiet again. This was your moment.

As you reached Lando under the arch, the music softened, replaced by the warm sound of Carlos clearing his throat. Standing tall, his charisma on full display, Carlos began his speech with a tone that was equal parts heartfelt and lighthearted. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, his smile broad as his gaze swept across the crowd, “we’re gathered here today to celebrate a very unique love story.”

His words resonated, and the crowd quieted, eager to soak in the moment. “What started years ago as a friendship,” Carlos continued, “is now turning into marriage.”

Lando’s hands found yours, his touch grounding you as Carlos spoke. You could feel the slight tremble in Lando’s grip, betraying his nervous excitement, even as his grin remained unwavering. Carlos threw a playful glance Lando’s way, his tone shifting into something cheekier. “I still remember how Lando simped over Y/n into my DMs,” he said, his laughter spilling out in a way that drew chuckles from the crowd. Lando’s blush deepened as his eyes momentarily dropped to the floor, his embarrassment evident but undeniably endearing.

Carlos grinned at the memory, glancing back at you both. “And how we planned the proposal,” he added, his expression growing warmer as he recalled the effort and camaraderie that went into orchestrating the big moment.

“And, to be honest,” Carlos said, turning to meet your gaze directly, “I didn’t think she would say yes.” His words carried a teasing note, but his sincerity was unmistakable. “But here we are now.”

The crowd erupted in laughter and applause, the warmth and joy of the speech permeating the venue. You caught Lando’s eyes, his blush still lingering, but his expression was full of love, gratitude, and a quiet thrill that made your heart flutter. Carlos’ words captured the essence of your journey—unconventional, chaotic, and perfectly yours.

Carlos cleared his throat, adopting a playful yet sincere tone as he began, “So, Lando, do you promise to always stand by Y/n? Even when she’s yelling at you for something that, let’s be honest, you probably deserved?”

The crowd chuckled softly, the humor in his words breaking the tension of the moment. Lando smiled, his eyes never leaving yours as he answered confidently, “I do.” His voice was steady, carrying every ounce of love and commitment he felt in that moment.

“And Y/n,” Carlos continued, his tone teasing yet undeniably warm, “do you promise you’ll always stand by Lando—through wins, through losses—and do you promise to always love him, even though he’s going to complain about, well, almost everything?”

A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd, the lightheartedness of Carlos’s words easing the tension of the moment. You turned to Lando, who was already grinning, his cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment at Carlos’s playful jab. His eyes locked onto yours, full of love and anticipation.

“I do,” you replied, your voice steady and filled with certainty, carrying the weight of everything this promise meant. The simplicity of those two words held all the chaotic adventures, heartfelt moments, and laughter you’d shared—and all the beautiful unknowns still waiting ahead.

Carlos beamed, spreading his arms wide as he declared with flair, “Well then, with that, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!” The cheers and applause erupted around you, the joy and celebration wrapping you both in a perfect, unforgettable moment.

Lando didn’t hesitate for even a heartbeat. The moment Carlos’s words faded into the cheers of the crowd, he closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as his lips found yours with an intensity that made the world around you disappear. The kiss was full of emotion—love, relief, and the overwhelming joy of finally reaching this moment.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, but it all felt distant, like background noise to the electricity sparking between you and Lando. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his grin wide and uncontainable. “You’re stuck with me now,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing, though the love in his eyes was anything but playful.

“No way, Oscar is crying!” Max exclaimed, his voice loud enough to turn a few heads. You and Lando glanced back, curiosity piqued as you looked over at Oscar. Sure enough, there he was, subtly wiping at his eyes, clearly trying—and failing—to be discreet about it.

Oscar noticed the attention and immediately straightened, his expression shifting into something resembling nonchalance. “I’m not crying,” he muttered, though the slightly red hue in his eyes betrayed him. “There’s just… something in the air.”

“In my wildest dreams, I never imagined Lando would be the first of us to get married,” Charles said, shaking his head with a playful shrug. His words drew a few laughs from the group, but his expression held a touch of genuine disbelief.

“Especially to Y/n,” he added, glancing over at you and Lando with a grin that bordered on teasing. “I mean, she’s everything—smart, beautiful— and he’s... well, he’s Lando.”

“Shut up, Charles,” Lando retorted, rolling his eyes as a smirk tugged at his lips. His tone was playful, though it was clear he wasn’t going to let Charles get away with his teasing without firing back.

The group erupted in laughter, Max clapping Charles on the shoulder as if to commend him for stirring the pot. “Come on, he’s just jealous,” Max added with a grin.

“I’m not jealous!!” Charles exclaimed, rolling his eyes so dramatically it was almost theatrical. The emphasis in his voice only made his claim less convincing, and you couldn’t help but suppress a laugh as you exchanged a knowing glance with Lando.

“Yeah, definitely not,” Lando muttered under his breath, a cheeky smirk lighting up his face. Max burst into laughter, clapping Charles on the back. “Sure, mate,” Max said, his tone dripping with amusement. “We totally believe you.”

Charles crossed his arms, trying to hold his ground, but the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. The playful banter continued, fueling the lighthearted, chaotic energy of the day—a perfect reflection of your close-knit group of friends.

You just smiled at them, their playful banter fading into the background as you stood next to Lando. The moment felt surreal, like something out of a dream you’d never dared to believe could come true. From childhood best friends, sharing secrets and laughter, to that impulsive, imperfectly perfect engagement on the pavement—just the two of you and the overwhelming love you couldn’t contain. And now, here you were, standing together in front of everyone who mattered, taking the next step into forever.

Lando must have sensed your thoughts, because when you glanced at him, his soft smile told you everything without saying a word. The way he looked at you—the same way he always had, but now with the added weight of this day, this moment—made your heart swell. What started as a friendship built on late-night chats and shared dreams had grown into something deeper, stronger, and absolutely unshakable. This was your story, and it was only just beginning.

@haniette , @ughyoustink , @quinquinquincy

#formula 1 #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris f1 #formula one #lando norris x y/n #ln4 fic #lando norris x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren formula one

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randompiecesofwriting · 1 day ago

Text

Wrong Name (Part 2)

Summary: Part 2 of Wrong Name ft. an accidental proposal

Pairing: Jack Abbot x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warning: None! Just super cute!

Author’s note: And I present a part 2 I honestly never thought I would write! Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who left likes reblogs and comments they all mean that absolute world to me I love hearing about your favorite parts it absolutely makes my day and I hope you like this part too!

Check out part one here!

He thought he had learned to stop being so surprised to see you just show up at the hospital.

It was always with an excuse, dropping off food for the staff, meeting him after a shift to walk home, giving him something he had forgot at home, but he thinks you actually just like being around, and the rest of the doctors of the Pitt certainly felt the same way. He was pretty sure they just texted you, asking you to come when they needed you, and you never hesitated to follow through.

It was nice to have someone outside of the Pitt. It was something he learned early on with you. Nice to have someone with what felt like objective eyes on the good and the bad, who could give perspective from a point of view other than a medical professional. And somehow, you’ve become that person for the people in the ED still too new to have that network yet.

So maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised to see you sitting on a bench across from the hospital, drinking a beer from a familiar looking cooler, surrounded by familiar looking young doctors.

“Have my med students kidnapped you” a part of him relished the way everyone in the group but you jumped a little at his voice, their immediate reaction to try and hide the beer as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

All except you who grinned up at him from the bench, tilting your neck back eagerly to give him a quick kiss in greeting with a hum of approval. “Kidnap? Please, I think I could take them”

Mel’s head tilted slightly to the side as if trying to figure out whether you were joking or not while Javadi’s eyes go wide and bounce rapidly between the two of you still trying to figure out if she was somehow going to get in trouble for this.

It was Whitaker who pipped up to fill the silence “Well Santos knows Krav Maga”

You looked at the intern with a raised brow, watching as she tried to bite down and hide her proud smirk behind her can. “That’s okay she’d be on my side”

“Damn right I would” she responded immediately, clinking her can against yours in a toast as you chuckled.

“Well now that your white knight is here what do you say we head home” he cut in putting a hand on your shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

“And that kiddies is my cue” You gave a dramatic groan as you stood up, raising your can in front of you to address them “to my favorite doctors in all of PTMC who work under Dr. Abbot” you gave a pause for dramatic effect “who I am incredibly proud of and did amazing work today”

Javadi gave a snort at that “you weren’t even here to verify that”

“Oh those weren’t my words” you assured her quickly “those came directly from Jack”

“Now hold on” he tired to interject but you steamrolled ahead.

“Goes on constantly about how proud he is of you guys”

“Wait a second”

“How you are the best residents he’s ever had”

“I certainly didn-“

“And that you’re all getting raises”

Jack tried to swallow back the chuckle that ruminated in his chest “And with that we are leaving”

You chuckled fondly at him, Jack beyond powerless to do anything but smile softly back at you.

“Alright I will see you all…probably fairly soon you’re kinda stuck with me now”

Mel pipped up just as you started to retreat “we’re still on for Friday right?”

“Yes” You responded eagerly, making your way over to Jack and not hesitating to take his hand in yours, giving the fingers a reassuring squeeze “your sister’s okay with it right?”

“Of course she is she likes you” Mel rolled her eyes like it was obvious only making your grin widen.

“Good I like her too. But I wanted to check. You can’t just crash a King sister tradition without checking” Pulling softly on his arm you started to lead Jack away from the benches, still calling out back behind you “text me if she doesn’t want me to come, no hurt feelings got it?”

Mel gave you a thumbs up in response, you just about to finally turn around and leave with Jack before Whitaker called out again.

“Goodbye Mrs.A-“

“Whittaker you finish that sentence I’ll sic Santos on you”

And finally, finally Jack had you all to himself. A comfortable silence falling over the two of you as you started to make the familiar trek home.

“You’ve met King’s sister?”

“You haven’t?”

And all Jack could do was laugh because of course you have. Of course you knew all about how she spent her time outside of work. Of course you had gotten yourself invited to their family tradition.

But still his mind was stuck on one particular part of that conversation. Unable to stop himself from asking even as he felt he shouldn’t. “Have you ever thought about it? Being Mrs. Abbot”

“Of course” you answered so quickly, so thoughtlessly, as if those two words hadn’t made his heart stutter in his chest “that’s why its written in pink glitter pen on every page of my diary”

And maybe you noticed the way his smile didn’t fully reach his eyes, or the way his laugh didn’t live in his chest as it normally did, but something made you pause before giving a more honest answer.

“Yeah I’ve thought about it”

He let the answer hang for a bit, let you enjoy yourself watching him squirm before he spoke “and?”

Like he knew you would you grinned back at him. Giving your interlocked hands a little swing “and I think I could go either way”

“Really?” he asked with a raised brow “you have no opinions?”

You shrugged in response “I think I’ve decided my priority is you.”

And truthfully he didn’t know what to say to that. In all the ways he had envisioned this conversation going, all the possible answers you could have given that was not one he had prepared for.

“I like what we have going” you shrugged, giving his hand a soft squeeze “we’re good. I like the idea of making it official, I don’t need it though” And finally you looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips, nothing short of complete devotion in your eyes “at the end of the day I’m going to spend my life with you Jack Abbot and there’s nothing you can do about it”

That finally pulled a real laugh out of him, the kind that rumbled deep in his chest, as he forced the two of you to stop, an action you didn’t seem at all surprised by.

He brought his palm up to cup your cheek, fingers threading lazily though the hair behind your ear as he rubbed softly back and forth on your skin, taking a moment to truly look at you, appreciate the beauty of the person he was so unfathomably lucky to call his. “You promise?”

“For you my dearest Jack Rabbit” you declared with a grin, going up onto your toes until your nose touched his, finishing on a whisper “I vow it”

“You know you two aren’t being subtle” Jack hadn’t even bothered to look up as he said it, had in fact spent the better part of the day avoiding their gaze as much as possible.

“Well I wasn’t going for subtle. Dana?” Robby stated matter-of-factly, glancing over at his charge nurse as he said it.

“I was going for overt” she shrugged.

And Jack knew exactly what their expressions would before he looked up, could guess the mixture of barely contained mirth and disappointment that would paint their features without needing to confirm.

“Well if you could keep your overt stares to yourselves that would be great”

“What is it Jackie-boy is it the ring?” Dana ignored him, leaning forward onto her forearms from across from him, bending down and seeking his gaze just as he usually did with people “I told you the ring’s perfect. It matches all of the stuff she already has well”

“No it’s not the ring” Jack cut her off with an annoyed look, keeping his head pointed down at the charting he had abandoned long ago “now if you excuse me some of us have a job to do”

“Well if not the ring then what?” Robby jumped in, mirroring Dana’s stance as he did so, the two doing their best to present a unified front, a fact that almost had Jack chuckling despite himself “You know when I told you she was too good for you I was mostly joking”

With a dramatic sigh Jack finally straightened and looked at the two across the desk from him, resigning himself to the fact that there was no escaping this conversation for much longer “no it’s not-“

“Dr. Abbot” Mel King his saving grace appeared next to him effectively catching the attention of all three of them, Jack more than happy to distract himself with whatever case she needed him on than withstand anymore grilling from his two so-called friends.

“Yes Dr. King”

“I just wanted to ask if-“ and he spoke too soon.

“No” Jack effectively cut off the line of questioning, turning back to his chart physically putting an end to the conversation

“But I just think that-“ Mel tried again

“No”

“Have you considered-“

“Still no”

“Dr. Abbot” Robby finally cut in, raising a brow at his friend as he put on his best teacher voice that only succeeded in pulling an eye roll from Jack “I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is a teaching hospital”

“It sure is” Jack responded in a similar tone “and teaching is exactly the thing I would love to be able to do today but thanks to some of us who have decided to be nosey and ‘overt’” he pointedly glared at the two of them “the rest of the staff have gotten it in their heads that they should get to be there when I propose”

And though he hoped that would be enough to get everyone back to work Jack was never that lucky, Robby immediately jumping in with “so it is for sure a when not an if then”.

Jack only glared at his friend, pointedly ignoring the shit-eating grin he wore as he stared unflinchingly back, Mel deciding this was the perfect opportunity to plead her case again “I just think that when it happens I-“

“Okay everyone listen up” Jack cut her off with a loud clap of his hands, effectively pulling the attention of anyone in the center of the ED.

“Dr. Abbot” Dana tried to call his attention, but he steamrolled ahead.

“I’m only going to say this once”

“Jack” Dana tried again as Jack once again pointedly ignored her.

“It will be done in private, just the two of us, at a time when I feel it is right alright?” He challenged the ED with a raised brow, his audience, despite his words, looking almost giddy before him.

“Sweetheart” Dana again tried to cut him off but Jack was too deep into his speech now.

“I appreciate your help with the ring and everything you all have done for the two of us but you need to stop pushing”

At this Dana had no more to say, little more than a deep sigh coming from the nurse as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter behind her.

“When I propose it will be on my own terms got it?”

The ED went silent around him, his students eyes wide as they did little more than stare up at him with rapt attention confusing Jack slightly.

“When you what”

Jack froze. He knew that voice. He knew that voice all too well. And even if he didn’t one look at the shit-eating grin on Robby’s face was more than enough to confirm it.

Jack spun in place quicker than his feet could really keep up to see you standing just a few feet behind him, frozen in place staring back at him with a wide-eyed gaze making Jack curse under his breath.

For the longest time no one said anything, the two of you frozen before one another as Jack’s head desperately reached for absolutely anything to say, finally settling on a defeated “what are you doing here”

“When you propose?” And God help him the way your lips twitched up at the corners as you said it made him nearly melt on the spot, Jack unable to fight the smile from growing on his lips in response as he took a few steps closer to you until he was almost chest to chest.

“Okay fine yes, when” he conceded with a soft chuckle, stooping his head slightly to fully meet your gaze as he drove his next point home “which is not this moment”

“But it’s going to happen?” Your question came back quick, your smile quickly growing to a full on grin that Jack wanted to be exasperated at. It would’ve been so much easier to shut down this conversation if he could remain stoic but the unbridled glee in your eyes had his resolve crumbling.

“In the future yes but I cannot stress this enough, not right now”

“Yes I say yes, or I will say yes” you eagerly grabbed at his forearms as the words all but spilled out of you. Jack helpless against the warmth that radiated within his chest at the action, his hands reaching forward to grab your face between them as a laugh threatened to bubble out of him.

“I am not proposing right now”

You all but ignored him, pulling his hands off your face but keeping them captured in your own as you continued on “have you already bought a ring? Can I see it?”

You were like a dog after a treat, oh so eager to barrel on ahead despite everything and Jack was finding it much too hard to be mad about it “I don’t have it on me because I refused to get engaged in the Pitt while I’m in scrubs”

And finally you seemed to properly take in the scene around you, the florescent lights ahead, the beep of machines all around you, the much too eager eyes of his coworkers who watched the scene before them unfold with rapt attention. “Alright fine”

Jack nearly sagged in relief at that, glad you were finally seeing things from his point of view before you cut him off again.

“But can I see it when we get home?”

A shocked laugh spilled out of the man as he shook his head, raking an exasperated hand over the lower half of his face “will you let me do it properly? Get on one knee, recite a speech I’ll pretend I didn’t spend hours writing. The whole nine yards” Never in his life did he think he would have to beg his fiancé to let him properly propose.

You pretended to think it over, the grin on your face telling him you were getting entirely too much enjoyment out of torturing him like this “Can we do dinner first? My favorite restaurant?”

He rolled his eyes at your response, unable to fight the fond smile from his lips as he did so “this isn’t a negotiation”

But you only stared up at him through your lashes, bottom lip pinned between your teeth, and Jack was putty in your hands, throwing out the last resemblance of a plan he had with a sigh “we have reservations this weekend”

He barely got the words out before you were wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your lips up against his, Jack grinning happily into the kiss as he pulled you by the waist deeper into him, finding that he didn’t much mind this part of this catastrophe of a proposal.

But like usual the ED chimed in at the perfect time, an abrupt cheer from his friends around him pulling the two of you apart as you were swarmed by his med students, the kids eagerly pulling you into their own set of congratulatory hugs.

But with a grin like that on your face Jack still found he couldn’t be too mad about it.

A hand clapping his shoulder pulled Jack’s attention away from the excited conversation happening between you and his students, Robby sliding up next to him with a smug smile on his face “You know I’m honored you’d want me here today to witness-“

“Shut the fuck up” Jack cut him off sharply but with a chuckle, not hesitating to pull him into a hug, Robby whispering into his friends shoulder “I’m happy for you brother”

#dr. jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x reader #dr. abbot x reader #dr. jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot x you #jack abott #the pitt x you #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #jack abbot fic #fanfic #x reader #reader insert

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izzih22 · 2 days ago

Note

Would you do a fic where like Azzi is trying to go to sleep with paige and KK and ice are on live and being super loud so paige goes to tell them off

Inside Voice, Outside World

Note: I think I got it…

Azzi was so close to asleep, she could feel herself sinking.

Paige was wrapped around her like a blanket made of sleepy affection—her arm across Azzi’s waist, one leg hooked loosely over her thigh, lips brushing the top of her shoulder every so often, like she just couldn’t help herself. Azzi was curled up, face tucked into Paige’s chest, completely at peace.

Or she would’ve been, if KK and Ice weren’t absolutely screaming on Instagram Live.

Azzi cracked one eye open, groaning quietly.

“You hear that?” she mumbled.

Paige shifted behind her, her voice low and raspy. “Unfortunately.”

“I was literally seconds away from falling asleep.”

“I know, babe.” Paige nuzzled against her again. “I could feel it. You were all melty.”

Azzi smiled, eyes fluttering closed again. “Still am.”

But the second she said that—

“YOOOOO!”

“Chat, did y’all SEE THAT?! That behind-the-back into a stepback? Stop playing with me!”

“KK, play it back—run it back! Lemme turn the mic up—”

The volume doubled. And so did Azzi’s frustration.

Paige let out a slow exhale.

Azzi could feel her body tense slightly, the way her jaw clenched against Azzi’s shoulder. But she didn’t move.

Azzi rolled over slowly so they were face to face. Paige’s eyes were open now, glowing faintly in the dim dorm light, her expression somewhere between sleepy and very over it.

“Don’t go,” Azzi said softly, touching her chest. “It’s not a big deal.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “You’re exhausted.”

Azzi shrugged. “I’ll live.”

“You shouldn’t have to ‘live’ through KK doing her podcast voice at full volume two rooms over.”

Azzi bit back a laugh. “You’re gonna say something, aren’t you.”

Paige didn’t answer right away. She just leaned in, brushed a kiss against Azzi’s forehead, then lingered there.

“I’ll be nice,” she murmured. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

“Nope,” Paige smirked. “But I am your girlfriend. And your personal noise-canceling system, apparently.”

Azzi smiled sleepily, her heart fluttering even though they’d been together forever. She loved this side of Paige—dry, calm, protective without being over-the-top. And always, always in her corner.

She didn’t want her to go. But she knew Paige would handle it.

And she did.

Paige rolled out of bed and padded to the door, her long legs practically silent across the floor. She didn’t bother putting on shoes—just stood there for a second, running a hand through her messy hair, pulling open the door with a slow, deliberate calm.

Azzi listened closely.

She could still hear KK and Ice, the volume lower now but still clearly hype, still clearly Live. There was a bounce of a ball. A too-loud laugh. Ice saying something about her “bag being deep.”

Then a pause.

Then Paige’s voice, low and even.

“Yo.”

Short. No extra words.

Azzi could hear the mood shift.

“Oh—Paige. What’s up?” Ice said quickly, a little too casual.

“You guys are still Live?” Paige asked, like she already knew the answer.

“Uh… yeah,” KK said. “We were just messing around—”

“Yeah, I got that,” Paige said, voice calm but clipped. “It’s just kinda late.”

Azzi smiled into the pillow. Paige wasn’t yelling. Wasn’t being dramatic. Just… Paige. Quiet and firm. That voice that didn’t need to raise volume to set the tone.

“We’re wrapping up anyway,” Ice added quickly.

“Appreciate it,” Paige said simply.

There was another pause.

“Right, yeah. We’ll chill,” KK said, softer this time.

“Thanks,” Paige said, already turning away.

She slipped back into the room like nothing happened.

Azzi watched her, feeling her heart flutter again in that stupid soft way Paige always pulled out of her without trying.

“Handled,” Paige muttered, climbing back into bed. “They’re gonna shut it down.”

Azzi pulled her close immediately, tucking her head into Paige’s neck and pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured.

“I didn’t,” Paige said, clearly not amused. “But I did.”

Azzi hummed. “You’re cute when you’re subtle.”

“I’m always subtle,” Paige said, mocking offense. “I am the queen of chill.”

Azzi laughed. “Mmm… okay.”

They settled again, Paige’s arms looping back around her waist. The silence was blissful. Azzi could already feel her body giving into sleep again, safe and warm and held.

Paige kissed the top of her head.

“I didn’t like that they were interrupting your peace.”

Azzi smiled.

“You’re very dramatic in a very quiet way.”

“Exactly,” Paige mumbled into her hair. “It’s my brand.”

Azzi yawned. “I love your brand.”

Paige’s arms squeezed around her gently.

“Love you too.”

#paige bueckers #pazzi fics #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #paige and azzi #pazzi

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neeeooon · 3 days ago

Note

Today, I saw a bug and genuinely got scared. I asked my friend to kill it but my first thought was, “How would the top blue lock characters react if I asked them to kill a bug for me?” So could I request that for Blue Lock’s top 6? (Rin, Shidou, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya, and Nagi). Thank you!!

i need a so who won’t hesitate to save me from bugs (you won’t find them in all these hcs 😭)

“can you kill that bug for me?”

bf bllk x gn!reader. crack, cussing, bug death in rin’s, otoya’s, and nagi’s

itoshi rin

-> you didn’t see the spider until it was too late

-> a scream tore through you as the creature crawled across your foot, and you jumped away while yelling for your boyfriend

-> rin turned the corner so fast he slid, eyes wide and frantic as he approached you. “what happened? what is it?”

-> you’re a blabbering mess as you point at the daddy long leg. it managed to run from your foot to the wall, and you gripped onto rin. “it, it, spider!”

-> sighing, rin picks a book off the table and smacks the wall in one lazy swoop. you collapse onto the floor and he offers you a hand. “so extra.” “that thing could have killed me!” “you’re welcome, then.”

shidou ryusei

-> he’s right there screaming with you

-> “do something!” you yell from the countertop as you continue throwing miscellaneous items at the cockroach scampering across your tile. shidou, from the kitchen table, screams back, “what am i supposed to do?! those things crunch, babe. i will literally throw up and die!”

-> the two of you continued throwing things at the bug, which hadn’t moved, until you eventually ran out

-> “babe?” you questioned sweetly. shidou narrowed his eyes at you. “yes?” “can you kill that bug for me?” “absolutely not. no way. no.”

-> your head fell back against your shoulders as you groaned. “i hate my life.”

karasu tabito

-> the buzzing beside your ear was enough to set you off, but when you noticed it was a wasp?

-> “tabito!!” you screeched, sprinting around the house like it was on fire as you tried to find your boyfriend. “there’s a wasp in the house!”

-> he appeared immediately. “how the fuck did a white anglo-saxon protestant get in the house?!”

-> you look at him. he looks at you. the wasp buzzes. finally, he blinks. “oh. you mean the one with wings.” “yes, the one with wings.” “… i’ll get rid of it for you.” “thank you.”

otoya eita

-> you don’t even know what kind of big it is, just that it’s big and staring you down from your ceiling

-> “otoya..?” you voice crept higher and higher as the beast inched closer and closer, and soon you were afraid it would drop onto your head. “otoya!”

-> he lazily poked his head into the room and followed your gaze up to the bug sitting menacingly above you. “help me.”

-> “fear not,” he dramatically pulled a rubber hand from his pocket and wrapped it around his fingers before aiming at the bug. “i’ll use my ninja skills to protect you.”

-> and to your surprise, he actually hit it. you jumped out of the way before the bug can fall on you and otoya disposed of it while you thanked him with hugs and kisses

yukimiya kenyu

-> ladybug or not, it was in your house, on your skin, and you needed it gone. and when it whips its wings out??? ohhh boy

-> “KENYU!!” he slams into the wall, glasses missing and clearly frazzled after hearing you scream. “what’s wrong? are you okay?!”

-> you point a trembling finger at the ladybug crawling on your arm, wings still out. you were too scared to swat at it and risk it flying at your face or in your hair. “save me.”

-> yukimiya tried not to laugh after seeing ow truly panicked you were. “okay, okay, i’m coming. don’t move, let me get my glasses—“ “OH GOD ITS MOVING.”

-> he walked over and laid a finger on your arm for the bug to crawl on, then casually walked outside and let it crawl onto a leaf. “there! saved you.” you throw yourself into his arms, blabbering nonsense he thinks sounds a lot like, “thank you, i love you, marry me please.”

nagi seishiro

-> the last time you stepped on a bug, it was carrying its baby sack and hundreds of baby bugs broke free, infesting your house and permanently traumatizing you

-> so even though it’s an ant (singular) you are not taking any chances

-> you stuck your head into the room nagi was in and tossed a sock at him to get his attention. “hm?” “there is an ant in the kitchen and i need you to kill it.” “‘k.”

-> you follow close behind nagi, fingers tangled in his hoodie as he waddles into the kitchen. “where?” you point and he walks over and steps in it with his bare foot

-> “y.. bare footed?” “you asked me to kill it.” you hand him a damp paper towel before he can even think about walking around with a dead ant on the bottom of his foot. “thanks.. weirdo.” “mhm. love you.” “aww love you, too.”

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nanamisgirly · 1 day ago

Note

fould we possibly get more womanizer sugu :3

this looks more like a fic than a head canon...oooops. I hope you will enjoy it !!! MWAHHHH :333 part.1

cw chubby reader, masturbation, jealous geto, reader fingers herself in front of geto while being in couple.

womanizer!geto thinks he's about to catapult that engineering major boy out of the solar system. right. now.

geto is sitting across the room, arms slung over the back of the couch, fists clenched so tight the veins in his forearms pop. his eyes are glued burning to where that poor nerd's hands are gripping your waist, pushing you back against the edge of the kitchen counter during some half-assed apartment party.

the guy's mouth is low against your ear, whispering something pathetic (he's sure of it) that makes you blush and push at his chest. but apparently not enough for him to back up completely.

womanizer!geto repeats the same sentences like a mantra “he doesn't know her. he doesn't stand a chance. it's not some pinterest-date plan he probably has in his mind that are going to make her flinch. he doesn't know how she is when her stress hits a fever pitch or when she cries over bad grades. he doesn't even know she chews her pens' cap until they're useless. he. doesn't. stand. a. chance.”

“you let him touch you like that in public?” womanizer!geto leans against the doorframe, smirking lazily, letting his voice drip with mock-casual venom—watching you read some dense academic paper, hoodie two sizes too big. he couldn't restrain himself from asking once you both got home.

you don't even look up as you say, “excuse me?” suguru shrugs, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, heavy with something darker than amusement. “the way the prop-on-him-self-boy was holding your waist earlier. pretty bold move by the way. thought you were shy.”

you blink, slowly lowering the paper. “i am shy.” he chuckles under his breath—low and unkind. “could've fooled me. guess you get real friendly when someone finally shows you attention, huh?” your lips part in shock, jaw going slack at the nerve—the venom hiding in his fake nonchalance.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he doesn't bother answer, he just keeps looking at you—daring you to do something of it, mouth still curled in a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes. you hold his stare, mouth tight, throat dry. “if you have a problem with who i'm seeing, suguru, be a man and say it.” his jaw ticks at your words, “i don't—”

“good," your voice cuts him off, "then no problem, right?” he nods once, and pushes off the doorframe, leaving you sitting there, heat crawling up your chest and hands trembling in your lap.

what you miss to see is the way his fists clench the second he turns away. of course womanizer!geto had no problem, why would he? because his mind was spiraling at the girl he had earlier that night, lips wrapped around his cock while his mind conjured the shape of your mouth instead? because his body refused to come unless he imagined your big soft body squirming against his?

the next week womanizer!geto is sure he's going to catapult the engineering boy out of this fucking solar system. he's halfway through some miserable cafeteria lunch when he hears your friends whispering too loud few tables away. “her boyfriend said she came twice” one of them giggles. another leans in, dramatic “she told me he gave her a massage and it turned into, like…a whole thing. .” and the final bow, “she even said he was the best she ever had.” suguru's hands curl into fists under the table, knuckles popping loud enough to make heads turn.

even gojo stops yapping mid-sentence, blinking at him, but geto doesn't hear a single word. his ears are ringing too loud, blood pounding behind them like a drum. all he can think about is you, your possibly messy moans, your pretty face, your fat thighs locking someone else's waist.

it rots him from the inside out.

womanizer!geto goes home right after that and jerks off twice. back-to back. once angrily, under cold water, cursing your name like a prayer. and again, this time slower… worse…because now the image in his head is you under that stupid stem boy. your soft hips rocked by clumsy fingers, your plush thighs spread wide for a cock that doesn't deserve you. geto shouldn't be hard for that. shouldn't want to watch it like some deranged freak.

but here he is—balls aching, cock leaking in his palm—jerking himself through gritted teeth, groaning low in his chest as he imagines your soft belly rippling under the weight of another man's body. he cums with a guttural snarl, forehead slamming the cold tile, imagining your tits bouncing, your glasses sliding down your nose as you whimper for someone who isn't him.

womanizer!geto tries to fuck someone else the next night—some hot girl, tight waist, full lips, half-dressed and panting all over him. but his cock seems stubborn. dead weight in his jeans. not even a twitch. she moans against his neck, grinding her hips against him on the couch, whispering that she wants to ride him all night—

but all he can do is thinking about you.

you, in your stretched-out pajama shorts. you, soft and plush everywhere, a little roll of tummy peeking when your tanktop rides up. you, mouth parted around your pencil when you're focused.

and the next time you're all alone with womanizer!geto in your living room, a late night study session for the upcoming test, he doesn't even try to act normal at the sight of your thick dimpled thighs tucked under you. you're rambling about something, showing him your notes—unaware of the way his eyes devour you. you look so sweet. fuck, he bets you taste so sweet.

he's staring at the half-faded bruise blooming across your collarbone when your voice pulls him back, “suguru…?”

“do you moan for him?” it slips out. you freeze at the sudden question. “wha—”

“your little stem boy,” he says, eyes dark. “when he fucks you. do you moan for him?” the silence is brutal. you open your mouth, close it again, cheeks burning, “that's none of your business.”

he smirks, leans in like a viper. “you sound like you could.” mock sympathy is dripping from every word. and nastier, “if he had a better dick than, what, three inches hard? maybe you would." his eyes glint, "be honest, nerd. he never makes you come, does he?”

the slap cracks across the room, hard enough your hand stings. hard enough to whip his head to the side. his cheek blooms red, but all he does is breathe hard—cock aching, swelling mean against his zipper. your heart is pounding, shame and rage boiling under your skin as you shove your notebook off your lap and storm toward your room.

womanizer!geto probably isn't thinking with his brain anymore as he follows you to your room. he stands in your doorframe just like he did two weeks ago, except this time, his eyes are pure fire—a mix of anger and hunger.

his eyes piercing yours, challenging you. his jaw is clenched so tight it looks painful and you should scream at him to leave your room, should shove him out. . and you're about to—but when your eyes fall down to the heavy, swollen bulge in his jeans, you loose all your rationality.

“get on the bed.” the words split the air, hot and final. you blink at him, confused and furious…soaked. your eyes following his every movements as he goes to sit on your desk chair, drops into with all the lazy arrogance in the world. his hand drapes over his thigh, just inches from the thick imprint stretching his pants.

“i won't repeat myself.” the mockery is thick on his tongue. “you can hate me later. you can even hate me forever if that's what you want. but right now?” his voice drops. “right now, you're gonna listen.” something deep inside you twists—dizzying. and before you realize what you're doing, you clim onto your own bed—like some pathetic, brainless thing. you glare at him, trying to save whatever pride you have left.

geto leans back further into the chair, his fingers thumbing the thick ridge of his cock. he tips his chin. “show me.” your stomach flips. “show you…what?” you whisper, already knowing—already burning.

“don't play dump, nerdy. you're too smart for that.” his voice is syrup-thick, fingers taping against the desperate strain against his rough denim. “show me how wet you got after slapping me like a brat.” your throat closes. “no,” you breathe out, a pitiful little sound of defiance but your thighs are betraying you, pressing tighter together. geto grins, “you're already soaking through those dumb little shorts, might as well let me see the mess you made."

womanizer!geto watches like a predator trapping his prey. his chest rises, slow and deep, extremely controlled compared to the raging war breaking inside you. his hand squeezes his cock through his jeans. he licks his lips, hungry. “touch yourself for me, pretty thing. show me how desperate you are for me instead of that useless fucking loser you keep calling your boyfriend. go on. be good.”

your traitorous hand slips under your waistband. the second your fingers brush the sticky heat between your thighs, your breath shatters from your lungs. your fingers tremble as you press harder, rubbing desperate little circles into your clit. you're trying to be quiet, to pretend you have a shred of dignity left—but the wet sounds are obscene and unmistakable.

geto's groan rips through the room—raw an broken, a sound like he's been punched. “tell me, pretty girl," he rasps, “is it dripping already? just from me talking to you?” your whimper is an answer enough, high and shameful, your cheeks burn under his gaze. ”get your shorts off," he commands, voice shredded. "and the panties too. now."

your hands shake so badly it takes two tries to peel your shorts down your thick thighs. your panties stick wetly, peeling away from your messy pussy with a filthy noise. the cold air hits you, your cunt gleaming under the soft light. geto leans forward in the chair, forearms braced on his knees, his stare burning between your legs like he's trying to sear it into his skull.

you try to remain a bit more decent, and close your legs shut together. “nuh-uh." he tsks. "what you doin', pretty? keep them open for me. don't be shy. lemme see all that messy pussy you were hiding.” tears are prickling behind your eyes from how exposed you feel as your legs fall open. geto's pupils blow wide. “fuck,” he mutters, dragging a rough hand over his face. “you're leaking. that's such a mess. and all i did was talk.”

you can't speak—can't think—your whole body is shaking as you rub yourself faster, chasing some kind of release, slick noises filling the room. every tiny touch feels too much and not enough at the same time.

geto is fighting everything in him not to move from the chair, watching like a man starved, squeezing his cock hard enough to hurt. “go on, pretty.” he croons darkly "put a finger in." your fingers fumble, slipping through the wetness before finally pushing inside. your walls flutter around your own digit, too tight, too needy. he lets out a brutal, bitten-off moan, grinding his hips against his palm—matching your pace.

“stop biting your lip,” he growls, “wanna hear you, pretty.” your moans breaks free—small and shameful at first, then louder when you start fucking yourself. “that's it,” his eyes are locked between your legs, “nice and slow, sweet girl. let me see how desperate you can get for me.” it's humiliating, disgusting, how fast you're falling apart, how quickly your hips are starting to chase your own fingers, trying to fuck yourself deeper.

sweat drips down his temple, cock throbbing and leaking so much in his boxer. he shifts again, rutting his hips shamelessly against his palm—chasing friction he desperately wanted you to give him. “bet you never do this for him,” he sneers, “bet that poor stem doesn't know he packed a slutty cunt. a needy one.” you gasp, a pitiful sound.

“does he, at least, get you this wet?” his words whip across the room like a lash. “when he touches you. .” your fingers speed up frantically, thighs quivering “when he fucks you. .” his smirk is vicious as he read through you, “quiet little good girl," he drawls, stepping closer. “saving all that greedy cunt for him, hoping he'll know what to do with it.” he's on you before you can process he even got up—looming over you at the edge of the bed, huge and terrifying and perfect. one big hand cups your jaw, tilting your flushed face up to meet his. his thumb smears sweat and tears across your cheek. ”pretty thing," he hisses, voice shaking with how hard he's holding back. “all soft and sweet. spread out so nice for me.”

if you dare glanced down, you could've seen the soaked patch growing bigger. “i should be disgusted,” he whispers, “should leave your desperate little fat ass begging. sobbing for it.” he presses in closer, nose brushing yours, breath hot and heavy. “you're close, aren't you? fucking yourself stupid in front of me. can't even help it.” his forehead tips against yours. “come for me, sweetie." he murmurs, almost lovingly this time. "make a mess all over that pretty cunt. prove he's nothing.” the filthy command punches the air out of your lungs.

you cry out, loud and shameless, thighs shaking violently as your orgasm crashes over you—drenching your hand and the sheets, rinding it out belly trembling and hips bucking helplessly.

geto watches it all—breathing ragged, knuckles white against the bedspread—but he never touches you. instead, he leans down and presses a filthy, tender kiss to your sweaty forehead. his cock still twitching violently in his pants, he's never been this hard his whole life. not even when he got onto threesome with twins.

and then—still hard, still starving for you—he stands.

he leaves you there, panting, twitching, soaking the sheets. your hand sticky, your cunt fluttering around nothing. your mind a ruined mess of him and only him.

he doesn't look back.

the door clicks softly shut behind him.

you lie there, empty—knowing no one else would ever make you feel so filthy, so wanted, so his.

ᖰ⌯'▾'⌯ᖳ

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