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saveyourblood · 6 months ago

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Pretty Boy - Ch 1 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you're an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them. Originally posted to AO3

Chapter Summary: Your new(ish) co-worker has a special talent: getting on your nerves.

A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Swearing (if that even counts).

You’re ending the first half of your 24-hour shift the same way you always do—dinner with the team. Well, at least that’s how you try to end the first half of your shift. Of course, that’s also assuming that both the fire and medical teams are actually at the station and not on a call.

All things considered, this probably only happens once a week, if that.

When it works out, though, it’s a good time. You already spend a lot of time in the rig with Hen and Chim, being an advanced paramedic and all. When it comes to the firefighters, though, you aren’t as well-versed, so it’s nice to have a weekly ‘getting to know you’ session. It seems like these days, it’s a 50/50 shot if they’ll make it to next week's dinner.

The firefighting crew at the 118 is a revolving door of macho men. When you first started, it was Chim, Tommy, and Sal. Chim became a paramedic, so he didn’t exactly ‘leave.’ Sal got relieved of duty, so he didn’t really have a choice. Tommy left, but for something better. Maybe it isn’t so much the job that makes people leave; maybe being a firefighter at the 118 is a stepping stone for bigger and better things.

There is one firefighter that, if he left, you wouldn’t be heartbroken. In fact, it would probably make your shifts a whole lot better.

Evan Buckley, aka ‘Buck.’ God, even thinking his name makes you want to gag a little.

He’s a decent kid, but he’s just that: a kid. He’s a Probie; he’s only been on the job for about 4 months, and no one would assume otherwise. His heart is in the right place, but his brain hasn’t caught up yet. You’re starting to fear it never will.

“I know exactly what that polite, distant smile means: she’s bored,” Chim says as he leans over the counter, pulling you right out of your thoughts and back into reality. “This woman is so far out of my league, but she’s once-in-a-lifetime… I can’t let her go.”

“Lots of fish in the sea,” Bobby, your captain, chimes in. He leans over to pull something out of the oven.

“Not with the bait he’s using,” Hen remarks as she walks by. Her arms are full of dishes to set the table with.

“Amen, sister,” you agree, hot on her heels. She gives you a small smile and hands you the plates, which you accept with a smile of your own.

“Cruel, but true,” Chim sighs. “I met her on this new dating site, just for cops and firefighters, RomancingTheUniform.com. She’s an adrenaline junkie, so foreplay is me telling her stories about running into burning buildings and jumping into icy lakes and…”

“I’m sorry, wait,” Hen interrupts, “remind me: when was the last time you ran into or jumped over anything?”

“...I embellish a little.”

“Oh, noted.”

“So is she a cop or a firefighter?” You ask.

Chim gives you a look. “Why would she be?”

“Well, you said the website is for cops and firefighters,” you repeat. “Doesn’t that make her a cop or a firefighter?”

“Okay, it’s not just cops and firefighters,” Chim cedes, “it’s also for people that want to date cops and firefighters.”

“Ohhh,” you smile, “so cops, firefighters, and badge bunnies. What could possibly go wrong?”

“I’m telling you, the uniform is a major aphrodisiac,” Chim continues as he brings a salad to the table.

“Yeah, hence the term ‘badge bunny,’” you remark.

The conversation is interrupted by one of the engines backing into the station. You probably should have noticed it was gone, but frankly, as long as your rig is in the bay safe and sound, you don’t care what the meatheads are up to.

Speaking of meatheads…

“Oh good, PB is back,” you remark sarcastically.

‘PB’, aka ‘pretty boy,’ aka Buck. You started calling him Pretty Boy his first day, and over the months, you shortened it. He jogs his way up the stairs and dips a finger in the communal spaghetti bowl. You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee.

“Wash your hands!” Hen scolds as she pulls the bowl out of his reach.

“What if there’d been a call?” Bobby asks as he brings the last dishes to the table.

“I was in the neighborhood!” Buck defends himself. He takes one of the plates from Bobby’s grasp, but instead of passing it around like a normal person, he starts eating the food off the plate with his dirty hands. Sometimes, you wondered if he was raised by a pack of stray dogs.

Bobby starts lecturing Buck, and you smirk with a little satisfaction. Bobby’s going to write him up, and truthfully? It’s a long time coming.

“First infraction, two more, and you’re out,” Bobby says as he steals back the plate. “Wash your hands.”

“You know, you're not helping him by going easy on him,” Chim says once Buck is out of earshot.

“He just needs a little direction,” Bobby replies.

“I’ll remind you of that when he gets us killed,” you mumble.

The alarm bells start to sound through the station. Everyone groans, including yourself. So much for dinner.

Chim decided to catch a ride with the boys in the truck, so that leaves you and Hen in the rig.

“I’m sorry, dispatch,” you say into the radio, “118 RA responding: did you say the baby is in the wall?”

“10-4, 118,” the dispatcher responds. “Caller reports hearing a baby crying in his walls.”

“Copy that, 118 RA clear,” you say before hanging the radio back up. “Well, this will be fun.”

“You think you can play nice with Buck?” Hen asks, a smirk on her face.

“Hey, I’m always nice,” you reply.

“Not to him!” She laughs. “Don’t think I didn’t see you roll your eyes the second he got back to the station.”

“I can play nice and still think he’s a raging idiot,” you defend. “Besides, since when are you his biggest fan?”

“Trust me, I’m not,” Hen chuckles. “And I love you, but you don’t know how to play nice.”

“Why be the bigger person when you can be the bigger problem?”

That remark gets a full belly laugh out of Hen. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

Hen parks the rig behind the engine in front. The boys come pouring out immediately, grabbing various tools and equipment. You make your way to the back of the ambulance, tossing Hen her med bag before picking up your own.

You follow the rest of the crew upstairs, and before you know it, the five of you are standing in some random guy’s apartment, listening for something that probably isn’t real.

“Look, I'm telling you, I heard a baby crying,” the man says. “Someone flushed a baby down the toilet.”

Hen picks up a bong off the counter and gives the man a look.

“I’m not high.”

You both raise your eyebrows.

“Okay, I’m pretty high, but it’s Sativa,” he says. “It makes you happy. It doesn’t make you hallucinate.”

“It could’ve been a rat,” Chim shrugs. “Sometimes rats get stuck in the walls.”

You frown. At the end of his sentence, you swore you heard a cooing sound.

“Shh,” you say to everyone, walking over to the bathroom. “Did you guys hear that?”

They're hot on your heels, watching as you take your stethoscope from around your neck and put it into your ears. You place the bell on the wall and wait. When you hear nothing, you begin rapping your knuckles on the tile until you do. Once again, it’s a faint cooing sound, not unlike a baby.

You then knock your knuckles on the wall until you hear a hollow sound. You take a marker from your pants pocket and mark an ‘x’ over it, knowing the space behind it is hollow. You take the stethoscope out from your ears.

“We need to open up this wall,” you say, pointing to the ‘x.’

“No, we’re being punked,” Chim disagrees. “It’s a tape recorder or something.”

“Maybe not,” Hen says, stepping forward. “Maybe a mother gives birth on the toilet and flushes it.”

“Okay, first of all, that's awful,” Chim says. “Second, do you know how pipes work?”

“If the baby is premature, its bones can bend and compress like sponges,” Bobby mentions. “We need to get in there.”

“Stand back, I got this!” Buck says, swinging his fire axe over his shoulder.

He runs up towards the wall with full intentions of swinging. Hen and Chim move out of the way and shout while Bobby tries to grab him. Ultimately, you’re the one to stop him, and you do it by placing both hands on the axe.

“Hey! Did you even stop to consider that you might hit a baby?!” You shout, adrenaline pumping through your bloodstream.

Buck just stares at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” you spat, pushing the axe out of the way.

“Buck, go get the saw,” Bobby directs.

“Try to find some common sense while you’re down there,” you call after Buck as he walks out.

“Nice catch,” Bobby says, looking at you.

“How nice of me to save the baby from one of the LAFD’s finest first responders,” you reply bitterly.

You can’t help but look at Hen, who quickly looks away. Her avoidance gives you a small sense of victory because this? This shit right here? This is why you can’t play nice with Buck. His head is screwed on backward, and it can get people killed. Playing nice isn’t going to fix that.

Thankfully, Bobby takes the saw from Buck once he brings it up. He makes a few small cuts in the wall before he and the other boys are pulling at the drywall. They quickly expose a massive pipe running behind the toilet.

“That thing is huge,” you remark to Hen.

“It probably connects a bunch of the toilets in the units above this one,” Hen returned.

“So… even with the water turned off…” you start, a sense of dread filling your stomach.

“If someone above us flushes the toilet, it could drown the baby,” Hen finishes. Almost before she finishes the sentence, she’s running into the hall, yelling for people not to flush their toilets. The boys make a few cuts into the pipe, and in no time, they’re taking it to the floor.

“Guys, I can see the head,” you say, joining them on the floor.

They make a few more cuts until the pipe is one straight segment.

“Get the head out,” Chim instructs.

“Yeah, you gotta push from below,” Buck chimes in.

You try that, but the baby isn’t moving. You look to the corner, then at Buck.

“Bring me the defibrillator,” you instruct clearly.

Buck scrambles over, picking up the case.

“Just the lube, Buck,” you rephrase, but he’s already coming back with the whole thing.

“Take it, take it,” Buck says, passing it off to you.

You let out a frustrated sigh before grabbing the lube out and tossing the rest of it to the side. You pour some lube on the baby’s head, then down by its feet.

“Work that in,” you tell Chim.

You move your index finger around the circumference of the pipe, brushing the baby’s legs with lubricant as you do so. Then, you gently apply pressure to its feet, and slowly, you can feel it move forward.

“This is gonna be a scoop and run,” you mumble.

“Hen, get the ambulance ready,” Bobby tells her. You’re not sure when she got back, but when you look up again, she’s gone again.

Slowly, the baby’s head emerges from the pipe, and the rest of her body follows.

“She’s not breathing,” you quickly note, “starting CPR.”

You place your index and middle finger in the center of the baby’s chest and press down fast and hard. “Looks like her airway’s obstructed.”

“Buck, get the bulb syringe,” Chim demands. A few seconds pass. “Buck, come on!”

“I’m coming!” Buck barks back, clearly in a panic.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you say quietly as you continue compressions. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Buck returns with the bulb syringe and uses it, but it doesn’t help.

“Dammit,” you curse. “You’ll have to try a blind finger sweep.”

Buck looks at you, then Chimney, then the baby, then back at you. “Me?”

“You gotta learn somehow,” you remark. “It’s easy: just turn her head to the side, curl your pinkie, and see if you can scoop anything out.”

Buck is hesitant initially, but he eventually does as you tell him. It takes a few seconds, but he manages to clear the obstruction, and the baby begins crying. Everyone laughs with relief.

“Let’s get her wrapped up,” you say, reaching for a towel.

The four of you rush down the hall, you with the baby in your arms. The pit in your stomach returns.

“No one held the elevator?!” you yell.

“Dammit,” Chim curses.

“Give her to me,” Buck says, nodding to the stairs.

You stare at him.

“Come on, I’m twice as fast,” Buck pleads.

“Screw this up, and I’ll kill you,” you threaten before carefully handing her over.

Buck takes off down the stairs, but you follow after. There’s only so much that can happen in a few flights of stairs, but you aren’t willing to risk it.

“I got you,” Buck says to the baby, “you’ll be okay.”

A faint smile crosses your face. Maybe Buck isn’t so terrible after all.

“Come on, move it!” Buck shouts as you both make it out of the lobby and out to the rig.

You climb into the ambulance with him, but before either of you can even sit down, you hear someone yelling to wait. It’s not just anyone: it’s LAPD Sergeant Grant, or as you’ve heard Hen calls her, Athena.

“Wait, is that the mother?” Buck says, looking at the young woman with blood-stained pants in someone’s arms. “Yo, screw her! Look what she did!”

Never mind. Buck is still terrible.

“Sit down and shut up!” You yell at Buck. “This is not your call! She is a child, and she’s bleeding out!”

“Look what she did!” Buck repeated.

“Come on, let’s get her up here,” you say to Athena and the man carrying the young girl, disregarding Buck’s protests.

Bobby and Chim made it down, so they help haul the young girl up into the rig. Chim stays at the head while Bobby sits next to Buck, the spot you were about to sit in mere moments ago.

“If this baby dies, it’s on you,” Buck says, staring at Athena.

“Stop talking, Evan,” you snap as someone closes the ambulance doors.

Using his actual name seems to shut him up.

“What’s your name, honey?” You ask the baby’s mother as you cut away her shirt to place EKG leads.

“Marika,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you’re scared, Marika, but you just have to keep breathing for me, okay?” you say. “My friend Howie is going to start an IV so we can give you fluids and medication. You’re bleeding a lot, so I have to do what’s called a fundal exam, okay? I have to press on your stomach to make sure your uterus is contracting back down normally.”

She stares at you, eyes filled with tears, before eventually nodding.

Using one hand to stabilize over the pubis, you begin pressing down the other into Marika’s stomach, a few fingerbreadths below her belly button. She lets out a few whimpers. You don’t feel the fundus, or the top of the uterus, like you should.

“Marika, you’re bleeding a lot because your uterus isn’t contracting. I have to make it contract by doing a fundal massage. It won’t feel that good, but it could save your life.”

Once again, Marika looks at you before nodding. This time, she closes her eyes.

Using firm and consistent pressure, you push one hand down where the fundus should be and make small circles. Marika lets out a few more cries of pain. You notice that, after a few minutes, the bleeding starts to slow, and her uterus firms up beneath your hands.

“Hospital ETA 5 minutes, hang in,” Hen chimes in from the ambulance's cab.

“Something’s wrong,” Buck says, staring at the baby in his arms.

You quickly move over to him. “Put her in your lap so I can see.”

Buck listens, moving away the towel so you can look at the baby. She’s cyanosed around the lips. You flip open a compartment and pull out the neonatal ambu bag. You hand it to Bobby, and you don’t even have to tell him to start bagging.

“I’m so sorry,” Marika says. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Bobby squeezes the bag every other second, delivering a breath to the baby. Her color is starting to look better, but she isn’t very responsive.

“Here, let me try something,” you say.

You gently pick up the baby and set it on Marika’s bare chest. After a few moments, the baby begins to move and cry out.

“Oh my god, why did that work?” Marika asks, wrapping her hands around her baby.

“Skin-to-skin can help babies regulate bodily functions, like temperature and breathing,” you reply as you place a towel over them.

You look over to the men sitting next to you. Bobby gives you a nod, and Buck avoids eye contact, but you can tell that he’s pissed. Fuck him, he doesn’t know his head from his ass anyways.

Once the rig pulls into the ambulance bay, you and Chim help the ER staff get the gurney out of the ambulance. Bobby and Buck follow suit, only Buck tries to follow them into the hospital. Bobby stops him before he does.

Bobby gives Buck some lecture about how we did our jobs, and now it’s their turn; it’s the speech every overly excited first responder gets at least once at the start of their career.

A cop car pulls up, and Athena comes out. She clearly found the person she was looking for, because she starts yelling at Buck.

“You do not get to choose who lives and who dies,” she lectures.

“Really? Because I was under the impression that kind of was my job,” Buck retorts.

You could seriously slap him.

“That mother was no less of a child than her baby,” Athena continues yelling, pointing a finger at the hospital. “You’re gonna get someone killed.”

“Well, maybe, but not today,” Buck says with a cocky head tilt.

You laugh humorlessly. “You know what, Pretty Boy?” you say, turning to Buck.

Fuck it. Bobby won’t put him in his place, and Athena isn’t allowed to, so you take matters into your own hands, literally.

Before you even fully comprehend what you’re doing, you’re wrapping a hand around Buck’s throat and pushing him against the ambulance. You aren’t choking him, but you don’t move your hand because keeping it there is your only leverage.

“I’m getting real tired of this tough guy bullshit,” you growl, your face only an inch from his. He’s quite a bit taller than you, but when you bounced him off the rig, his footing faltered, so he’s crouched at your eye level. “You wanna get real, Evan? You didn’t do a goddamn thing today except get in the way. While we were busy saving lives, you were shitting your pants and dropping the ball, not exactly what a tough guy is supposed to do.”

“Okay, enough,” Bobby says, trying to break it up. You’re far from finished, though.

You move your hand from his neck, but only so you can point it in his face. “You aren’t a god — you don’t decide who lives! You didn’t even save a life today: we did, because you kept fucking up. And if you keep fucking up like you did today, you definitely will kill someone, and your little jokes and midday booty calls and your shitty little grin won’t change that!”

Bobby ends up physically pulling you away while Athena makes some room between the two of you.

“Aren’t you going to arrest her or something?” Buck says, rubbing his neck. “She assaulted me!”

“She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Athena counters. “I promise you, Buckley, the next time you screw up? It’ll be your last.”

Athena casts Bobby a glance before she walks away.

“You,” Bobby says, looking at Buck, “in the truck. Now.”

You start to walk over to the passenger’s side of the cab when Bobby calls after you.

“I want you in my office the second we get back,” He orders.

You clench your jaw. “Yes Captain.”

Ch 2

#911 abc #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #911 show #911 on abc #911 reader insert #evan buckley/reader #eddie diaz x reader #no use of y/n #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to soulmates #i can write

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pazzispizookies · 16 days ago

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— — Guarded — —

Hey Guys! I hope you all enjoyed chapter 6! I wouldn’t freaking know because no one gives me feedback expect for my dedicated pookies. Also go check out @izzih22 new series if you haven’t! Along with @hereforuconnwbb new series!! but I would like to hear y’all’s feedback more, post a comment, send inbox or Dm with what u like/dislike abt the chapters so I know what yall want to see better! I’d appreciate it so very much pookies. Have fun reading… ;)

Pairing: Hopkins transfer Azzi x Hopkins Paige

The quiet vibration of the car engine filled the space.

Thoughts swirling in both girls heads about what had happened at the diner.

“So, are you gonna tell me where your driving? or am I just being kidnapped?” Azzi asked, glancing over at Paige.

Paige was resting on hand on the steering wheel, spread out lazily but still maneuvering the car with persision, “I figured you’d want something sweet, you have a disgusting sweet tooth Az,”

Azzi felt her heart tighten a little at Paige knowing what she wanted, then it struck her. How did she know? “How do you know I have a sweet tooth? are you really a stalker P, its getting kinda scary.” She teased, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Something had definitely changed. It was unspoken but still, their flirting had gone from having an underlying sense of rivalry, to now having a heat behind it. Azzi had realized the day she met Paige their relationship was going to be different. Like a cosmic pull was stringing them closer. And now, she thought that it might not have been a ‘cosmic pull’ but just pure attraction. Something that scared her in the best way.

Paige had the same idea, less intense, but she knew she wanted Azzi. She wanted her bad. But she was the reason their relationship started off rocky, but she didn’t regret it. If anything she was glad she could flirt with Azzi and blame it on her hating her. Even though that reason wasn’t the truth. She felt herself looking at Azzi, from in class, to stealing glances of her during practice, to when she was alone in bed at night and found herself on her Instagram page, admiring the small details of her from her modeling posts. It was all something she knew was apart of something larger, something was going to happen between them. She knew Azzi was different already.

Paige looked over at Azzi, the moonlight and streets casting a warm glow into her deep brown eyes, “I’m not a stalker, just observant.”

Just as Paige said that, she started to pull into a Ice cream store parking lot,

“Ice cream?” Azzi asked, trying to hide her pure child-like excitement.

Paige saw the way her eyes lit up, it tugging at her heart a little, “Yes, are you five years old by any chance?”

Azzi scoffed, clicking off her seatbelt and grabbing her phone, “is it a crime to like ice cream as a 16 year old? Last time I checked it wasn’t.”

Paige rolled her eyes, still trying to pretend she wasn’t falling for every little thing Azzi said. She had always been the type to fall quickly, more often then not getting hurt by it. But it was something about herself she couldn’t change. she feared that it would hurt her again, but there’s no stopping whats in motion.

Paige got out of the car, making sure to grab her wallet and phone.

Azzi did the same, already have started to walk towards the building.

Paige caught up with her, hands in pockets and decided to verbalize wat she had been thinking about. “So..we should probably talk about the whole ‘Ash’ thing.”

Paige opened the door for Azzi, letting her in first. To which Azzi returned a small smile, not one of her normal cocky ones toward Paige, but one from her heart.

They walked in and noticed it was pretty packed,

“Yeah we can talk…after ice cream. Also, maybe we should sit outside, it’s pretty busy in here, yknow get some quiet. If it doesn’t make you too nervous.”

Paige leaned her head back a little, narrowing her eyes on Azzi, “I wont be nervous, already have you wrapped around my finger.”

Azzi shook her head foundly, letting out an exhale, “You’ve got that all wrong Bueckers. Cmon, I want ice creammmm!”

Azzi grabbed Paiges forearm and pulled her towards the counter, speaking up to the worker immediately.

She didn’t need to look at the menu, already knowing what to order. “Hi, could I get a medium cup of Rocky road, with sprinkles and hot fudge?”

The worker nodded and looked at Paige,

Paige added in, “Uh yeah can I just get a small cup of vanilla? That’s all.”

Azzi glared at her, “Boring.”

Paige scoffed, “Not boring, just an aware athlete trying not to poison herself.”

The worker who was watching the teasing, amused, spoke up. “It’ll be 7.98, and can I just say you guys are such a cute couple. You can tap on the screen by the way.”

Azzis face felt a rush of heat at the awkward moment, but Paige not wanting to let the moment to be bad for all of them spoke, “Thanks,” While she tapped her phone to the screen to pay.

Azzi was a little taken a back by her answer, making a mental note to ask her about it later. But greatful that it shut down the conversation.

The worker smiled while she handed the ice cream cups to each of them along with spoons. “Have a good night you guys.”

Paige simply nodded at her, and Azzi replied, “You too.”

They started to walk towards the door, the silence between them deafening.

Paige open the door for Azzi once again, to which Azzi didn’t have the same reaction before, a little lost in her thoughts.

They walked in awkward silence to a bench at the back of the building, it was surrounded by green grass and overlooking a quiet park in the still of the night. Only illuminated by a street light and the moon, the warm night air sweeping through.

Azzi sat down on the same side as Paige, positioned foward looking out at the park.

But as it hit Azzi, her brain simply fried from everything, she blurted out, “ugh, why do you always smell like that.”

Paige startled out of her thoughts grew a little concerned at the sudden sentence. “Uh…like what?”

Azzi became aware of what it sounded like she was implying, quickly corrected herself. “No, not like that yknow. like every time we have class or after running miles at practice you still smell really good, it’s annoying.”

Paige felt herself heat up at the silly compliment, “You obsessed with me, huh?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her ice cream while looking at the park across the field from them. Paige looked over at her profile, noting the soft curves in her nose and the way her eyelashes caught the moonlight.

“I’m not obsessed with you, just… observant as well.”

Paige shook her head, the awkwardness from emailer seemingly dissipating into the night air.

“So, Ash. Whats our plan for that?” Paige redirected.

Azzi crossed her legs and met Paiges eyes, which were strickingy blue still. “You mean my plan to get us out of the issue you created? Haven’t thought much about it yet.”

Paige sighed, taking a bite of her ice cream and thinking.

Azzi spoke first, also running it through her mind, “well, I mean, I guess I’ll text her tonight. Maybe like a few of her highlights, see if she leads.”

Paige nodded, “Yeah, she’ll lead. She always does.”

Azzi was quiet for a beat, but then she cleared her throat and met Paiges gaze again. “How come you didn’t correct the worker in here when she called us a couple.”

The truth was, Paige didn’t hate hearing someone mistake them for a couple. “I just didn’t want it to be awkward, correcting her would just make us all feel a little weird.”

Azzi hummed, taking in what she said, even though not believing it to an extent.

Then just in that moment of silence, her phone buzzed.

Paige grabbed Azzis phone hearing the buzz, like she had the right too.

“Hey!” Azzi protested at the blonde

Paige looked at her phone seeing a notification.

Instagram:

Ash: hey pretty, you invite your team yet? just trying to get a head count lol.

Azzi raised an eyebrow at Paige’s face, it contorting into one of confusion and some relief.

“What is it?” She asked,

Paige turned the phone around to reveal the message, which she quickly scanned.

“Maybe you were right. That’s pretty friendly.” Paige said, fully handing the phone to her. But something in her tone was off….almost upset.

“You good?” Azzi asked having noticed the underlying tone,

Paiges jaw clenched slightly, avoiding eye contact with her, “yeah I’m good. You should respond.”

Azzi took a second to study Paige, wonder what she was thinking before opening the phone.

She went to instagram, reading it through again. Then turned back to Paige, “sooo..what do I say?”

Paige wanted her to say nothing, she was almost blinded by the thought of Azzi flirting with her Ex because of her stupidity. But she had to push those feelings down, knowing that this was the only way to get Ash to not leak anything.

“Well..you flirt.” Paige responded. Also looking at the phone

Azzi let out a huff, “I know that big head, but I mean, like how?”

Paige looked up, “how? You don’t know how to flirt?”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, but then looked away quickly. Because truthfully, she didn’t. Paige was the only one she had ever really flirted with, and that was only because it was a challenge….well at least at first.

“I don’t go around flirting with everyone, unlike you.” She replied,

Paige rolled her eyes, focusing back on her ice cream in hand, taking a slow bite, lingering the plastic spoon in her mouth. “I don’t flirt with everyone, Azzi.” She said, her voice nearing a dangerous level of honesty.

Those words kicked her back into focus, knowing they had a double meaning, and knowing the meaning behind it wasn’t one to explore tonight. “Well, looks like it to me. Yknow you do that thing.” Azzi said, gesturing towards Paige’s face.

Paige looked over amused, dropping her voice to a smooth teasing one. “What thing? Look pretty?”

Azzi scoffed at her, the only worse about Paige being pretty is that she knew it. “Not that.”

“So you admit I’m pretty?” Paige quickly replied, leaning in.

“I never said that”

“But you never denied it.”

Azzi took the challenge,

She leaned in even closer to Paige, inches away, and whispered, “yeah, you’re pretty. Happy?”

Paige felt heat pool at the words, mixed with the limited space between them, she’d do anything to close the gap.

“That. Right there,”

Azzi looked at her confused, “huh?”

Paige leaned back, creating some much needed space, ”that was flirting, even if it wasn’t as good as mine, you do know what to do, Princess.” She said as she took another bite of ice cream.

“Okay 1. Your not much better at flirting them me. 2. I have to do this over text, to a stranger.” Azzi answered, glancing back down at her open phone,

“Psh, we both know I can flirt better, that’s okay to admit. And yknow just like, use what you have to your advantage.”

“What I have? What do you mean?” Azzi said looking into her blue eyes,

Paige let her gaze drift off again, thinking about if she was gonna be honest. But with a breath, she decided it was easier to just suck it up and say it. “Post yourself. A good photo of yourself. She’ll reply to it. I’ll bet on that,”

Azzi looked at her, confused because she thinks Paige may have just given her a compliment, a complicated one nevertheless. “Okay, I will. Is my face just that alluring? She’ll come running at the sight of it.”

“Anyone with a brain would come running to you if they had the chance,” Paige said, leaning in.

Azzi breath caught for a split second, caught off guard by Paige’s words.

Paige caught the reaction. A grin spreading across her face. “See? I’m better at flirting.”

Azzi shoved her. Which drew a dramatic groan from Paige.

“Shut up, I’ll post something tonight. Even if I look like a desperate slut because of it.”

Paige nodded, still slightly smiling. “Lookin foward to it.”

A comfortable silence feel over them for a minute, neither one complaining about it, because there was just something nice about being in each others presence.

“You done?” Azzi asked, looking at Paige’s and her own empty cups.

“Yea,” she said standing up, offering out a hand for Azzi.

Her heart warmed at the small gesture, it just seemed to be something Paige did without thinking, showing that she wasn’t all that bad.

Azzi grabbed her hand, lingering on it for a second before pulling away.

Paige felt the touch stretch, but really she didn’t want it to end. It seemed like their hands fit perfectly together.

“You’re driving.”

Paige caught the keys Azzi just threw at her with a groan,

*****

They walked back to the car,

as both of them sat down in their chairs, Azzi speaks up. “Yknow, we don’t really have anything tomorrow until practice.”

“Yeah…and?” Paige asked.

Azzi hesitated for a second, “my parents and bothers aren’t home, maybe you wanna come over? If you don’t that’s totally fine too.”

Paige was a little shocked at the invitation, especially since she didn’t know if Azzi felt the same pull to be around her, “Yeah, sure -um yeah.” Paige replied, smile tugging at her mouth.

“Cool,” Azzi replied as nonchalant as she could (which wasn’t very much)

Paige started to drive in the direction of Azzis house, silently freaking out, because hanging out alone with her in an empty house was a little more than she could handle.

After 6 mintues of music filled silence between them, Paige pulled into her driveway.

Azzi got out of the car, waiting for Paige to follow,

They made their way up the stairs and she started fumbling with her key at the door before pausing for a moment and looking at Paige, “Oh - but the way. I have a kid.”

“A what?” Paige said shocked.

Azzi chuckled. “Yeah, she’s only a year old. But don’t be too loud, I think she’s asleep.”

“You have a kid? Since when?” Paige asked, racking her mind.

Azzi played into it more, “yeah, she’s the love of my life. We tried to keep it hidden from the public as much as we could.”

“uhh—Okay?” Paige replied, completely baffled at this new information.

Azzi pushed the door open, making her way inside as Paige followed suit.

“Wait right here, I’ll go get her.” Azzi said looking back, trying to hide her lying.

Paige threw her hands up, with a shrug. “Okay I guess?”

Azzi wandered off into the house, opening her bedroom door to find Stewie, her dog and baby. Asleep on her bed.

“Hey stew, I have someone to meet.” She said carefully picking up the tired dog.

stewie started wagging her tail at the sound of Azzi voice, gleefully letting herself be picked up.

Azzi tried to stay as quiet as she could while walking back to Paige, making her way to the living room.

Paige stood there on her phone, racking socials for information on Azzi apparent pregnancy.

She didn’t even hear Azzi creep up until she spoke, “Paige this is Stewie, my baby. and Stewie this is Paige.”

Stewie started barking in Azzis arms at the sight of the blonde.

“Really?”

“What?” Azzi said placing Stewie down, “She’s my baby.”

“You so annoying Az,” Paige said, putting her phone away, slightly relieved to see Azzi didn’t have a whole child.

She bent down to pet Stewie who was already at her legs, “Hey there Stewie, You have a stupid mom. Sorry about that.”

Azzi crossed her arms and scoffed, taking offense“She does not!”

Paige stood back up and chucked, “Sureeeee”

Azzi rolled her eyes and started walking towards her room, motioning for Paige to follow.

Once they entered her room Azzi plopped down on her bed, As for Paige, she stood awkwardly in the door way.

“Uhhh, what’re you doing?”

Paige shrugged, “standing.”

“Well stop it, it’s weird, sit down.” She said patting a spot next to her on the bed.

Paige pushed off the wall and sat down next to Azzi on her pink bed.

she looked around the room, it was everything Azzi times 100.

Light pink walls, books stacked with vines hanging off of it, Icecream stickers on her laptop with a neatly organized desk. Even to her pink queen sized bed, having being perfectly made and adorned with Unicorn pillows, only the soft glow from fairly lights illuminating the space.

“Wow, your rooms so ‘5 year old girl’ meets ‘clean freak’ “

Azzi scoffed and leaned back on her pillows, “Shut up, it’s probably better then yours.”

Paige looked down at her, slightly taken back by her beauty. Her curls sprawled out over the light pink pillow, she relaxed completely from being in a comfortable area. “It’s not. Mines much more ‘13 year old boy with a Lebron James obsession’ “

“I’d bet.” Azzi responded, looking into Paiges eyes, only now aware of the fact Paige was on her bed. In her house. Looking this good.

“Uh so anyways, you dated Ash, so you know what she likes right?”

Paige nodded, “to an extent”

“so I need you to help me with the post, the one to lure her in.”

Paige shook her head “I told you, I don’t know how to do girl things.”

Azzi sighed then threw a pillow at her, causing her to yelp.

“Well you better learn.”

“Abuse, Azzi. Abuse.” Paige said pretending to be hurt

Azzi stuck her tounge out at her, “Yeah, yeah. Now lay down, your being oddly uncomfortable, I don’t bite.” She said now getting up and moving for her closet.

Paige laid down, feeling a lot less uncomfortable by her words, sighing at the feeling of being relaxed after a long day. “Where’re you going?”

Azzi had disappeared into her closet for a moment, returning holding a few shirts. “Gettting options.”

“Options for what?” Paige asked, fully sprawled out on Azzi bed.

“For my shirt for the photos stupid, I can’t take them in this.”

“You could. You still look good to me.” Paige replied, sweeping her gaze over Azzi’s body

Azzi rolled her eyes even thought the compliment and attention felt nice. “Hush, Now help me pick.” She said thorwing three shirts at Paige.

Page picked the rudely thrown clothes up, the first one being a white cop top, nothing special. “No,”

The second one being a green top, half off the shoulder, “No.”

and the third being a tight black top, the v neck dangerously low with long sleeves. “this.” She said throwing the shirt back at Azzi.

“Really?” She asked, shocked by the choice.

Paige nodded, “Mhm, most slut like, she likes that.”

“Ew, but okay.” Azzi replied, moving towards the closet, shirt in hand.

She took a second to change, having to switch from a sports bra to a normal one, then came out of her closet to show Paige.

“Good?”

“Hot.” Paige replied simply, starring straight at Azzi cleavage.

“pervert.” Azzi said making her way to her desk.

She threw her speaker to the bed, “Play something, its too quiet I can hear you starring at me”

Paige grabbed the speaker, “Okay, no complaining though.”

Azzi nodded.

Paige unlocked her phone, knowing exactly what to play. She went to Bluetooth and connected the speaker, and stared playing “Crybaby” by Sza softly.

The sounds filled the air as Azzi applied some Mascara and highlighter, curling her eyelashes along with it.

after 5 mintues Paige groaned, “what are you doinggggg, I’m bored.”

Azzi didn’t even turn around, not entertaining Paige. “Go on your phone, stupid.”

Paige did just that, looking at her feed for about 2 seconds before turning a pillow into a weapon, launching it at Azzi.

Azzi scoffed and turned around, “what did you just do.”

Paige didn’t respond, instead grabbing another pillow and throwing it at her “Nothin”

Azzi practiacally launched herself out of her chair, immediately grabbing a pillow and smacking Paige.

Paige did the same, grabbing a pillow and smacking her dead in the chest to which Azzi fought back hard, grabbing another and smacking her face,

“Oh your dead” Paige said sitting up and grabbing Azzis waist to pull her foward,

Azzi felt the touch on her, but then felt another blow straight to her face, she stumbled onto her bed, reaching over to hit Paige.

But the way she ended up on Paige, was a little….different than she’d hoped, realizing after a few more hits she was fully straddling Paige.

Paige also stopped fighting feeling the weight of Azzi on top of her.

a silence feel over the room.

Both of them just looking at each other.

Azzi looked more gorgeous then Paige had ever seen, the soft lighting, the flattering color from her shirt, her hair slightly tussled and sprawled out on her shoulders, but her eyes were the best thing. Because they were staring intensely at her.

“Um. Well this is awkward.” Azzi said, stating to get up from her spot.

Paige found herself moving instinctively, wanting Azzi to stay exactly where she was.

Her hand found her waist, firmly holding her down. “Don’t move.”

“What?” Azzi asked, even though she needed to move because an unwelcomed throbbing began in her.

“Don’t move.” Paige repeated now leaning over to grab her phone.

“What’re you doing Paige?” Azzi asked, completely not okay with the amount of turned on she was right now.

Paige felt the same, even if she didn’t know Azzi was relating. But as she turned back to her, phone in hand and one still firmly on her waist. She spoke “This is perfect for the photo, just saying.”

Azzi glanced at her, the realized she was probably right. The light was hitting her softly and she was in a pretty questionable position, one that Ash would surely comment on.

“Uh okay.” She responded.

Paige kept a hand on her waist, pretending like it was the most natural thing in the world, which to some extent, it felt like it was.

She unlocked her phone and got on the camera app, pointing the phone up at Azzi.

On the screen she looked even better, the angle was working for her and her brown eyes seemed to glow brighter than the moon. She looked stunning. Unreal.

“What do I do? Just smile?” Azzi asked, feeling a little awkward.

“You’re literally a model bro, how do you not know how to pose.” Paige replied.

“Because most of the time i’m not straddling someone’s lap.” Azzi said, reminding Paige of the position.

Paige thought for a moment about what she could do, then she dug her fingers deeper into Azzis hips. Earning a slew of laughter to come from her.

“Paige! Stop!!” Azzi said completely losing it while being tickled.

Paige smiled up at her, taking a bunch of pictures of Azzi laughing on top of her, “I’ll stop in a second, pretty girl”

Azzi looked down at her, the nickname sending a shock through her,

Paige glanced up, the name just slipping from her mouth before she could stop it.

“What did you call me?” Azzi asked, her focus now only on Paige.

Paige couldn’t respond, her finger still holding down on the phone taking pictures. What had she just done. It’s like her brain forgot that she wasn’t supposed to feel anything towards Azzi. Sweet, beautiful Azzi. Who was staring down waiting for a response.

“Sorry….Got caught up,” Paige mumbled out. Avoiding eye contact at all costs with her face burning.

Azzi looked down at the blonde, normally the face of confidence. Who was now flustered under her, clearly embarrassed. But the thing was, Azzi would die to hear her say it again, her heart was nearing bursting.

She grabbed Paiges jaw gently, guiding it to look at her, watching the way her breath hitched at the contact.

“I don’t mind. It’s okay,” Azzi said smoothly, reassuring. Because that was the truth. She didn’t mind.

Paiges face only got more red, quickly realizing she wasn’t gonna be able to control her feelings much longer she redirected the heated moment. “Uh—I think I got the photos,”

“Oh yeah, right.” Azzi said getting off her lap, noticing the shift in the air going back to where it was before.

As she laid down next to Paige it got more apparent that she had some….issues happening. Being clearly turned on from her earlier position.

Ignoring this she gabbed the phone, “lets see,”

She opened up the photos app, seeing nearly 100 photos of her. “Paige! Did you just hold down on the button? Now we have to go through all 14 billion of them.”

Paige shrugged, feeling way too comfortable next to Azzi in bed. “I just held it, thought that’s what I supposed to do! I’m no photographer.”

Azzi shoved her shoulder, touch lingering for a second to long and clicked on the first photo.

She looked unreal. The warm glow of the soft yellow-white fairy lights reflecting in her eyes, the dark room, the black shirt a contrast on her paler skin from the fall months, her hair looser from being tussled. Even to her face, the smile whole and bright, all real, thanks to Paige. And the best thing about the photo is that you can see the pale hand on her waist, clear as day. Along with the outline of her sitting on a lap, not to much, but just enough.

“Wow” Paige said, a little breathless at the captured photo.

“Is that one good?” Azzi asked, already knowing the answer.

Paige nodded her head, still a little speechless, “yeah, um- yea.”

Azzi took the phone from the middle of them and opened up instagram.

She selected the photo and put a soft filter over it, it only improving the photo.

She captioned it simply, “Guess who?” And hit post.

She threw her phone down. Turning over and looking at Paige, “now we wait.”

*****

#uconn wbb #pazzi fics #paige bueckers uconn #pazzi #uconn #paige x azzi #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #azzi fudd #azzi35 #hopkins paige #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #pazzi fic #paige bueckers smut #azzi fudd uconn #azzi fudd smut #azzi x reader #pazzi smut #ZookiesFics

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boltonbritreads · 8 months ago

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🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie x reader

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 month ago

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11: CROSSING LINES

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Summary: You wake up on the next morning to a flood of notifications on Instagram after posting the bracelet you designed for Bucky's birthday. Unknowingly, you included some of Bucky's vibranium arm in the shot, leading to unwanted attention and harsh comments online. Feeling guilty for exposing Bucky's private life, you seek advice from your besties before deciding to confess to Bucky.

Warnings: Mentions of online harassment, sexual content (explicit)

Word Count: 4365

Thank God for Sundays. No early rises and a whole day of respite from the duties of life. Bright sunlight was already filtering through the cracks in your blinds. You pulled your phone out of the charger and scrolled through the avalanche of notifications.

Your Instagram was on fire.

Your post from last night— the sleek, custom bracelet you’d designed for Bucky’s birthday— had exploded overnight. You opened the app and scrolled through the comments, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and dread.

The first few were kind enough:

@trulywicked: “This is such a unique design! I love how it feels like it tells a story all on its own.”

@tallyfitness: “Your work never fails to amaze me. This bracelet is an absolute masterpiece!”

@everydaydisco: “The detail on this bracelet is stunning! It feels so personal. Whoever it’s for is so lucky!”

But your stomach flipped as your gaze caught a few jarring words:

@givingscholar: “That arm in the corner… wait a minute, isn’t that…”

@juicybarbie: “The Winter Soldier? Didn’t see that coming.”

You scrolled up past the trolls as fast as you could, your cheeks flushing with heat. There it was in the photo— Bucky’s vibranium arm! How had you not noticed Bucky’s arm on the edge of the photo? It was just a partial shot on the side of the frame, but to the internet, it might as well be a giant neon sign.

@polymermaid: “Bucky Barnes?? Is this for him?”

@juicybarbie: “Can’t believe you’re making custom jewelry for ex-HYDRA operatives now. Bold choice.”

@longlaughs: “The Winter Soldier? Seriously? Guess you’re okay with a little war criminal PR for your business.”

@TheRealDealDude: “Winter Soldier rocking custom jewelry? The world really is upside down.”

@QueenOfQuips: “Guess you’ve got a thing for dangerous guys, huh?”

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, overwhelmed by the sheer number of comments. Most of them were innocent or praising, but the bad harsher ones stung. You stared at the photo on your feed, the way it sat on Bucky’s wrist, remembering his face and the reverence with which he had put it on. It was one of your proudest creations.

You felt like a stab of guilt for thrusting him into the spotlight again. You knew how much he hated it, it was the reason he had avoided you in the first place. Your phone buzzed with a new notification. Someone had tagged you in a story. Bracing yourself, you opened it.

It was a repost of your bracelet with a caption: “Supporting war criminals is so in right now. Who knew accessory design could be this edgy?”

Your stomach churned as you stared at the repost, the caption was clearly written to judge both you and Bucky. It made you wonder why you’d posted the picture in the first place. You’d gotten too proud of yourself and it had ended up in you hurting Bucky. The last thing you wanted for him to feel uncomfortable again, or even worse, for him to think you’d intentionally exposed him.

In a panic you message your friends for advice.

8:33 AM - You: HELP!

8:36 AM - Hanna: What’s up? You okay?

8:36 AM - You: I fucked up... big time.

8:36 AM - Hanna: What happened?

8:37 AM - You: Okay, so yesterday, I posted the bracelet I made for Bucky on Instagram. It was just supposed to be a promo post— nothing major! But I accidentally left part of his vibranium arm in the photo.

8:37 AM - Aditi: And?

You sent them a link to your post.

8:40 AM - You: And now the comments section is blowing up. Like, some people are nice, but others are... not. I’m talking full-on trolls. People are calling him a war criminal, making gross jokes, and dragging my business into it.

8:41 AM - Aditi: Oh.

8:41 AM - Hanna: Ohhhh.

8:41 AM - You: Guys!!

8:41 AM - Aditi: Okay, deep breaths. This isn’t the end of the world.

8:42 AM - Hanna: Yeah, it’s not a big deal. People on the internet love to stir the pot.

8:42 AM - You: IT’S A HUGE DEAL! Look, I know we’ve not really talked about Bucky much, and I know you know who he is. But he’s a good guy— he’s been through so much, and he doesn’t want this kind of attention. He’s private for a reason.

There was a moment of silence from your friends.

8:45 AM - You: Are the two of you messaging each other privately rn?

8:45 AM - Hanna: Chill girl. I mean I get it, but it’s not like you posted this to expose him. It was totally an accident.

8:45 AM - You: I still feel awful. He trusted me enough to let me post this, and now I’ve put him in the spotlight without his consent. Should I tell him?

8:46 AM - Aditi: Does he even use Instagram? We couldn’t find him anywhere.

8:46 AM - You: Not really, but his friends do. Sam’s probably seen it already. And let’s be real— Sam will tell him. Fuck, Captain America already thinks I’m a fuck up. Now this!

You groaned. You didn’t want Bucky’s best friend to see you as a liability. For a moment you wondered why Sam’s opinion was so important to you. This relationship with Bucky was short lived, it had a very clear expiration date. Why did it even matter what his friends thought of you?

8:46 AM - Hanna: Why would they think you’re a fuck up?

Fuck! You didn’t want to get into the Leonard issue with them at the moment.

8:47 AM - You: That’s a story for another time.

8:47 AM - Hanna: Okay, let’s be logical about this. First, you didn’t do this with any bad intentions. You posted your work, which is incredible, by the way, and accidentally included a small detail. You’re not exactly TMZ.

8:47 AM - Aditi: Exactly. But honesty is probably the best move here. If you tell him before someone else does, you’re showing that you care about his feelings.

8:48 AM - You: But it feels like my fault! I should’ve noticed the arm in the photo before I posted it. He’s so private, and now… ugh, I feel like I’ve betrayed his trust.

8:48 AM - Hanna: I get it, but don’t spiral. Think about it this way: If you tell him, you’re being upfront and honest. He’ll appreciate that. If you don’t tell him, and Sam or someone else mentions it to him first, he might feel blindsided.

8:48 AM - Aditi: Hanna’s right. It’s better to tell him. But maybe don’t lead with “I posted your arm on Instagram and now everyone’s freaking out.

8:49 AM - You: Great, that’s great! THANKS! 🙄

8:49 AM - Hanna: Something like, “Hey, I posted a photo of the bracelet, and I didn’t realize part of your arm was in it. It’s getting some attention, and I wanted to tell you before you hear it from someone else.

8:49 AM - Aditi: And add, “If you want me to take it down, I will.”

You stared down at their advice, your gut feeling like it was tied in knots.

8:49 AM - You: I don’t know, guys. I feel like I’ve really fucked this up.

8:49 AM - Aditi: He’s your boyfriend. If he doesn’t understand that this was an accident, well then you need to dump him.

You sat on your bed, rereading your friends’ words.

8:50 AM - You: Thanks, guys.

8:50 AM - Hanna: You’ve got this.

8:50 AM - Aditi: Breathe honey. Everything will be fine.

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

It would have been easier to pull on a pair of sneakers and run away from the problem. You had considered it as you pulled on a flowy dress. You were still considering it as you stood outside Bucky’s front door. Just do it.

You knocked, half hoping he wouldn’t be home.

The door opened just as you were about to give up. Bucky was standing in front of you with a towel wrapped around his waist, dripping wet. His hair was damp, clinging to his neck and forehead, and the faint smell of soap lingered in the air, and the light glinted off his damp skin in a way that made your breath catch. “Hey,” he said, his brow furrowing in concern. “You okay?”

You stared for a moment, your brain practically short-circuiting at the sight of his abs, the towel just barely hanging on. “Uh, yeah,” you stammered, finally closing your mouth and dragging your gaze up to his face. “Sorry— I… I should’ve texted first. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. “Give me a sec. I’ll go throw some clothes on.”

“Wait! I… I’m so sorry!” The words burst out of you in a flood, unrestrained by logic or timing. “But I posted your bracelet last night and didn’t notice your vibranium arm in the photo, but other people did notice it, and there are comments— so many comments— I mean, some are nice, but…” you faltered for a second before regaining your flow, “Others are kinda mean, and I swear, I didn’t mean to… I know you hate the attention, and I feel awful, and—”

“Whoa, slow down.” His brow furrowed as he leaned towards you, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop you talking. His touch was both firm but gentle, and the heat from his palm made your skin tingle. “Start again. What’s going on?”

You took a sharp breath in, trying to calm yourself before continuing. “You know we talked about me putting the photo of your gift on Instagram?”

Bucky nodded, his expression guarded. His hand still rested on your shoulder, sending tiny sparks of awareness through your body. It was very distracting. The bracelet sat on his wrist.

“Well I posted it last night but the photo had your—” you pointed at his vibranium arm, “It was in the shot. I swear I didn’t realize… but people noticed. And now they know it’s you. And the internet is being, well… the internet.”

You watched the expression on Bucky’s face change from confusion to understanding, then into a faint, weary sadness. It wasn’t directed at you, but the sight of it still felt like a punch to the gut.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should’ve been more careful. I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He let out a slow breath, his hand dropping from your shoulder as he stepped back, breaking the brief but electric connection between you. “I’m not mad. It’s just… people being people. They’ve always got something to say.” He shrugged, and the towel slipped a little lower on his hips, threatening to undo what little composure you had left.

You bit your lip, your gaze briefly flicking to the towel again before you forced yourself to focus on his face. “Still I… I feel terrible. I know how much you ate this kind of attention. Can I do something to fix—”

“Hey, you’ve apologized enough,” he said, cutting you off with a faint smile. “Besides, it’s not like this hasn’t happened before. You think it’s the first time people have lost their shit over a photo? At least I’m not associated with something bad this time.” His lips jerked up half heartedly, as if trying to lighten the mood, but his eyes still carried a tired, weary look.

Your shoulders relaxed slightly, but you couldn’t shake the guilt weighing down your stomach. Bucky could tell you weren’t convinced.

“Guess it’s a good thing you’re not a bad influence, huh?” he smiled mischievously.

And your heart skipped a beat. There was something about the way he was looking at you now, something daring, almost flirtatious. You pouted, but you couldn’t hide the way his presence was affecting you.

“Why do you care so much, anyway?” Bucky asked, tilting his head so he could lock his eyes onto yours. He looked at you with a mix of curiosity and… something else. His gaze moved over your face, dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back to your eyes. It made your stomach do somersaults.

His question took you by surprise. It wasn’t accusatory, just curious. The way he was looking at you was disarming, and for a moment, you couldn't remember how to breathe. “Because you’re my friend—”

Your voice faltered as he looked at you. His expression unreadable. You let out a small squeak as he stepped closer. Close enough that you could see the individual droplets of water still clinging to his skin. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. Close enough that there wasn’t any space left between you. You could hear the soft rasp of his breath and you could feel your pulse hammering in your neck.

“Friend, huh?” he murmured, his tone teasing, a smirk pulling at his lips as he stopped even closer.

Your mouth went dry, your heart now thundering as he stepped even closer. He lowered his voice to something more intimate. “Friend?” he repeated. The word hanging between you, like an invitation. You could feel his breath on your face, practically taste the heat on his lips. Your body tensed, buzzing from his proximity.

You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words for a response. The air between you felt charged, your pulse was racing as he reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. It was the same motion from yesterday, but today it felt different. More intimate. His fingers lingering for a moment too long, his touch igniting something in you.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly, his hand lingering near your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

You swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “No, I’m not—”

He gently placed his thumb over your lips, cutting off your protest, and for a heartbeat, everything seemed to still. “You don’t have to be scared of me, you know.”

“I’m not scared of you,” you insisted in a soft whisper, your hands almost trembling at your sides. “I just—”

But you couldn’t finish your sentence. His fingers moved down to trace the line of your jaw, the feather-light touch sending electricity through your body, and your mind scrambled for any coherent thought. It was as though every inch of your skin had become sensitive to him.

His hand trailed down your neck, almost absentmindedly tracing a path over your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your heart was pounding so loudly, you were sure he could hear it.

His eyes flicked down to your lips for a second before he looked back up at you. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

You didn’t. Instead, you closed the small distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a fiery kiss. Immediately Bucky’s vibranium hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him, deepening the kiss. Hungry. Consuming. His tongue found yours, igniting a heat that coursed through your veins like wildfire. His grip on your waist tightened as the world around you seemed to dissolve into nothing but him. His touch, his scent, his hard body pressed against you.

Eventually you had to pull back for air, and Bucky rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes met yours searchingly, making your heart start racing all over again.

“I, uh…” you huffed a small laugh as your mind scrambled for something coherent to say. “That wasn’t… I didn’t… not why I came.”

“No?” Bucky smirked, his voice far huskier than you’d ever heard it. “‘Cause I ain’t complaining.”

You let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh, letting your hands rest tentatively on his bare chest. “No, I mean… I guess I was just worried about the post and the comments and…”

“And?”

“And now I'm a little… distracted.” You glanced down at the towel which was shockingly still around his hips.

“Second thoughts?”

“No… no!” The second protest was more forceful than your first. “I just don't want you to think that I came here just for… that.”

“No, I understand. You came because you cared enough to tell me what was happening… before I heard it from someone else. That means more to me than you realize.”

The vulnerability in his words stole the last breath of air in your lungs. It's not what you'd expected when you had knocked on his door. The openness. The tenderness. The care he showed you. It made you want to reassure him, in the same way he was reassuring you. To close the distance between you.

So you did.

No longer hesitant about what you wanted, your kiss was slower this time, but the passion was still here. Your fingers scraped against his scalp as you ran your fingers through his damp hair. He pulled you closer and closer until all that separated you was that damn fluffy towel.

“Maybe we should move this somewhere more… comfortable?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

You nodded, your breath catching at the way his thumb brushed over your hip, his touch lingering. “The couch?” you offered. You weren't sure you were ready to see his bedroom.

He smiled. The small, almost shy curve of his lips made your heart skip a beat. “Couch works.”

Bucky took your hand, leading you into the living room. His fingers slid down, intertwining with yours, his touch electric. You lowered yourself onto the couch first, your movements careful and deliberate. But your eyes betrayed your eagerness as they flicked up to meet him, lingering on him for just a moment too long.

He lowered himself beside you, close enough that his knee brushed against yours. You could feel his heat seeping through the fabric of your dress.

“Come here,” he said quietly, his vibranium hand resting on your thigh. The coolness of the metal made a line of goosebumps erupt along the skin he stroked as it came to rest in your hip.

With a nervous swallow, you moved closer, the inside of your knee brushed against his as he helped you straddle his thigh.

“Like this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his smile held a quiet reverence. “Yeah. Just like that.”

His hands were on your hips. Firm but gentle. Guiding you as you moved against his thigh. The friction sent waves of heat through you, straight into your core. It felt great, incredible, in fact. But it was the intensity of his gaze that was your undoing. Bucky was watching you like you were the only person in the world. The only thing that mattered. His normally blue eyes darkened with desire.

You moaned as you leaned towards him, letting your hands slide up his chest to anchor yourself. Grounding yourself. His muscles tensed under your touch. The quiet groan that escaped his lips only served to heighten your desire.

“Bucky—” you whispered. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea.

“I know, doll,” he murmured in answer, voice strained. His fingers dug into your hips as though he was trying to hold back. “I know.”

Feeling him gave you more confidence. The way he was responding to you. Growing under you. Your movements grew bolder. But it didn’t feel like enough. Not with the way heat was pooling between your thighs. Not with the way his hands were holding you. Like he couldn’t get enough. You wanted more. You needed more.

“Bucky, I—”

He cut you off with a kiss. His lips crashed against yours with a hunger that took your breath away. Desperate. Messy. His teeth caught your lip as his hands roamed over your back as he crushed your body against his.

You moaned into his mouth as he tensed his thigh. The new angle sent a jolt of pleasure into your core. Bucky groaned. The sound vibrated against your lips. The towel between you being put to the test as his swollen member pressed up on your knee. Hard. Straining.

“God, you’re killing me,” he rasped, between kisses.

His hands slid down to your thighs, he lifted the one between his legs, to straddle his lap, settling you firmly against him. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you moaned, pushing down against him. “Please, oh yes, please.”

He swallowed. Hard. His hands tightened on you, guiding you to move against him, his hips bucking up to meet yours. The friction between you felt exquisite. Every time your body met his sent sparks of pleasure through you.

“Jesus,” he muttered, his voice rough and broken as he buried his face in your neck. “You feel so good.”

Your fingers gripped his hair, pulling his mouth to yours. But as your movement grew more and more frantic, all you could do was rest your forehead against his. You were so dangerously close to him. The thin layers of clothing separating you only heightened the tension between you. Every thrust, even push, every grinding movement drove both of you closer to the edge.

“Bucky,” you whimpered. Your body trembled as his lips found your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your skin. They would definitely show later.

He reached under your skirt and grabbed the front of your underwear. Bucky pulled and twisted it so that the silky material slipped between your folds, making you cry out.

“I got you, doll,” he murmured. “I got you.”

The heat between you was building. Ravaging your bodies. It built up to a boiling point. Bucky fell apart first. His body tensed under yours as he went over the edge, his groan muffled against your shoulder. His grip on you tightened, his fist clenching and pulling your underwear against your clit. The extra pressure was your undoing. You barely had a moment to catch your breath as your orgasm hit you. Throwing your head back, you dug your nails into his back as you rode out the waves of ecstasy.

For a few moments, the only sound in the apartment was your mingled ragged breathing. Your forehead came to rest against his, the pressure grounding you in the aftermath of your activities.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice hoarse but laced with a tenderness.

You nodded, a small, breathless laugh escaping your lips. “More than okay.”

As the silence settled between you, the weight of your actions began to creep in. His hands were still on your waist, his touch warm and steady. But the rush of heat that had driven your actions only moments before had begun to fade, replaced by a quiet realization.

You shifted back a little, suddenly incredibly aware of how close you were to Bucky. “That was…” you started, but your voice trailed off as you tried to find the right words.

“Yeah,” he responded, hesitation in his tone. He glanced down at his hands, as if he was noticing for the first time where they were resting, how closely your bodies were pressed against each other. His hands fell away and he cleared his throat, looking at everything but you. “Uh—sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you interrupted quickly, sliding off his lap and smoothing down your dress, your face warm with embarrassment. “You didn’t… I mean, it’s not like you... I wanted to—”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, cutting you off. His gaze flickering to yours before darting away again. “It’s just— fast.”

“Really fast,” you agreed, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your dress as you glanced at the floor.

The air between you now felt awkward, the heat that had consumed you both had been replaced with an uncertainty.

Bucky shifted, leaning back against the couch, his hand running through his damp hair. “This doesn’t… mess things up, does it?” he asked hesitantly, his voice low.

You looked up at him, confusion flickering across your face. “What do you mean?”

“Our agreement,” he sighed, his jaw tightening slightly. “The whole fake dating thing. If this makes it… complicated.”

“Bucky,” you said softly. “Do you regret this?”

He met your eyes, his expression conflicted. “No. That’s the problem,” he admitted, his voice low. “I don’t regret it, but it feels… dangerous, you know? Like we’re walking a line here, and I don’t want to screw this up for you— or for us.”

“You didn’t screw anything up.”

He searched your face, as though trying to gauge your sincerity. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” You reached out, your fingers brushing his flesh hand in reassurance. “But if we’re being honest here, I was kind of a mess when I walked in here and this probably wasn’t the best idea.” You let out a nervous laugh. “I mean there's a reason we have these rules for the relationship agreement. But you didn’t do anything wrong. And… I don’t regret this either.”

“Okay,” he said softly.

You bit your lip, guilt creeping back in as you remembered the reason you’d shown up in the first place. “I really am sorry about the Instagram thing,” you said, glancing away. “I know how much your privacy means to you, and I feel like I violated that.”

“You didn’t mean to. I know that. Don’t beat yourself up over it. But thank you for caring.”

His words sent a warmth through your chest, but the lingering awkwardness of the moment made you feel like it was time to leave. You stood, smoothing down your dress. “I should probably go,” you said lightly. “Let you get some rest.”

“You don’t—” he started, standing up as well.

You offered him a small smile. “I think I’ve caused enough trouble for one day.”

Bucky stepped closer, his expression earnest. “We’re good, though, right?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze. “We’re good. You’re good, Bucky.”

His smile softened and you felt the unspoken connection between you again. But you stepped back, opening the door of his apartment, giving him a small wave as you slipped out.

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coppy-catt · 7 days ago

Text

like it part iii.

megumi fushiguro x reader, college au

your dorm was quiet, save for the low hum of R&B drifting from your laptop speakers—soft, slow, the kind of music that filled the silence without crowding it. the only light came from the gentle glow of your desk lamp and the faint, silvery spill of streetlight seeping through the blinds. the air carried a hint of vanilla, subtle and sweet, mixed with something warmer—something unmistakably you.

megumi sat cross-legged on your bed, textbook balanced on his thigh, trying to focus on the words in front of him. you were beside him, lying on your stomach, feet swaying lazily behind you as you flipped through your notes.

on the surface, it looked like you were studying. technically, you were. there were highlighters. post-its. a psych quiz in the near future.

but the real test?

keeping his eyes on the page and not on the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder when you shifted. or the way you chewed on your pen cap when you were concentrating. or the occasional brush of your hand against his that sent lightning up his spine.

he’d been in your room for maybe fifteen minutes, and already his nerves were coiling tighter by the second. not because you were doing anything wrong—you were relaxed, casual, completely at ease. like this was just another night. like this was normal.

but nothing about this felt normal to him.

your presence was a constant pull—your soft laughter when you mispronounced a vocab term, the way your leg brushed his now and then, deliberate or not. and the scent of you, clinging to the sheets and the air, was making it hard to breathe.

“so, this part of the chapter is about electromagnetic induction,” megumi said, tapping the page with his pen like it could ground him. like it could calm his racing heart. “super easy.”

shifting into a sitting position beside him, your lips tugged into a smirk. “says the walking textbook.”

he gave a small shrug. “it’s not that hard once you break it down. faraday’s law—basically, a change in magnetic field causes a current.”

he pointed to the vocab word in the textbook lying open in front of you, trying to keep his voice steady. but when he glanced over to see if you were following along, his breath hitched.

you weren’t looking at the book. you were looking at him.

your lips slightly parted, eyes fixed on his face with a softness that made his chest tighten. it wasn’t just curiosity—it was focus, interest, intention.

megumi immediately looked away, the tips of his ears turning red.

you looked too damn enticing.

the way your eyes lingered on him like he was the most interesting thing in the room, it was enough to short-circuit his brain. he could talk all day about physics, about laws and fields and forces, but right now, the only current he could feel was the one sparking between the two of you.

and it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

he tried to focus—really, he did. cleared his throat, forced his eyes back to the page, even muttered something under his breath about “lenz’s law”—but the words blurred.

“megumi,” you said, voice soft, almost coaxing.

he glanced at you again, hesitantly this time—and you were still watching him. like you knew. like you’d caught on to every subtle flick of his gaze, every stiff inhale, every time his voice wavered.

“yeah?” he asked, trying—and failing—to sound casual.

you tilted your head, eyes flicking from his lips back to his eyes. “you’re kinda bad at pretending you’re okay.”

he let out a breath of a laugh, low and tight. “am I that obvious?”

you smiled, scooting just a little closer. “a little.”

silence settled between you for a moment—thick and charged. his fingers twitched beside yours, aching to close the distance. and when your leg pressed more firmly against his, megumi finally looked up to look at you.

really look at you.

“look, I don’t know what this is,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “but I don’t want to mess it up.”

your gaze fell to his lips.

“you won’t,” you mumbled as you leaned in and connected your lips to his.

and it was like everything in the room faded—the hum of the music, the open textbook, the faint city sounds drifting in through the window. all of it blurred at the edges, swallowed by the feeling of you. the warmth of your mouth, the way your fingers curled gently around his wrist, grounding him.

he kissed you back slowly, almost reverently, like he was still trying to convince himself this was real. that you wanted this. that you wanted him.

and you did.

he could feel it in the way your body leaned into his, in the way you deepened the kiss, like you couldn’t help it. like you’d been waiting, too.

you gently pushed the textbook off the bed, letting it thud softly onto the floor, then shifted forward—slow and deliberate—as you crawled into his lap, straddling him.

megumi’s hands instinctively found your hips, his grip tightening as you settled onto him. his breath hitched—sharp and audible—like your weight alone was enough to unravel him.

your own hands slid up his chest, fingers bunching slightly in the fabric of his hoodie as you pulled him closer.

and he kissed you back like he’d been starving for it, like he finally let go of whatever was holding him back. his hands roamed up your sides, feeling the warmth of you through your clothes, anchoring himself in the rhythm of your body moving against his.

when your hips shifted just slightly, a quiet groan rumbled from his throat, his forehead dropping to yours as he tried to catch his breath.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he murmured, voice low, strained, completely wrecked.

you smiled against his lips. “that’s not the plan.”

but the way you rolled your hips again, slow and purposeful?

it sure felt like one.

your name left his lips in a whine, soft and desperate—his voice cracking under the weight of it.

his hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging in as if he could anchor you in place, stop you from driving him any closer to the edge. but even as he tried to still your movements, his body betrayed him—hips twitching upward, chasing the friction you were giving him.

“please,” he breathed, forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut tight. “if you keep doing that —”

he didn’t finish the sentence. couldn’t let you find out how pathetically close he was to busting in his pants. just from dry humping you.

then, as if the universe had decided to show him mercy, you slid off his lap.

he exhaled sharply, body still trembling, grateful for the space—for the moment to collect himself.

but that relief was short-lived.

because you didn’t move away.

you kept sliding—down, between his legs. your hands running lightly along his thighs as you settled on your knees in front of him. and the moment your eyes lifted to meet his, wide and purposeful and so damn sure, his jaw fell open.

“wait—what are you…?” his voice came out strangled, barely a whisper.

but he already knew what you were doing.

and the realization alone nearly undid him all over again.

your fingers toyed with the hem of his hoodie, dragging it up just enough to expose the band of his sweats. megumi’s breath hitched, his entire body going still—like if he moved, he might shatter.

he stared down at you, wide-eyed, lips parted, completely speechless as your hands slipped beneath the fabric. the heat of your touch against his skin made his stomach tense, made his thighs twitch under your grip.

“y-you sure?” he breathed, though the words barely held weight—his voice weak, shaking, like he already knew he wouldn’t stop you if you kept going.

you looked up at him, a gentle smile tugging at your lips, and gave a quiet nod. then, leaning in, you kissed him once more—slow and lingering—before trailing lower, your mouth brushing against the sharp line of his hip.

megumi’s head fell back with a low groan, one hand flying up to grip the edge of your comforter, the other carding through your hair.

he was screwed. completely, totally, hopelessly screwed.

and god, he never wanted anything more.

your kisses trailed lower, slow and deliberate, like you were savoring every inch of him—every twitch of muscle, every shaky breath. megumi’s hands fisted the comforter tighter, knuckles white, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven rhythm.

when your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of his sweats, his hips jolted slightly—his breath caught in his throat.

“shit,” he whispered, voice raw, eyes squeezing shut.

you only smiled, dragging the fabric down just enough to free him—his breath catching in a strangled gasp as cool air hit overly sensitive skin.

he looked down at you again, eyes dark and full of disbelief, desire, and something softer—like awe. like he couldn’t believe you were real.

and then your mouth was on him.

the first touch of your lips made his whole body tense, a guttural moan ripping from deep in his chest. his hand flew to your shoulder, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

“f-fuck, please—” he stammered, the sound of your name barely making it out of his mouth.

it was too much. too good. too you.

and he knew, without a doubt, he wasn’t going to last.

the way your lips wrapped around him slowly, deliberately, like you had all the time in the world—made megumi feel like his sanity might start to slip.

his thighs tensed beneath you, breath staggering as he tried to hold on to something, anything. but your mouth was warm and wet and perfect, and every flick of your tongue, every slow pull, dragged a sound from him he didn’t even know he could make.

he looked down at you through hooded eyes, completely undone by the sight—your lashes lowered, cheeks hollowing just slightly, your hands steady on his hips as you took him deeper. you looked so focused, so intent on him, like you wanted to memorize every reaction, every shiver, every curse that tumbled from his lips.

“god,” he breathed, voice wrecked. “you—fuck, you feel so good.”

he tried to hold back. tried not to fall apart too fast, but the pressure was unbearable, his muscles straining as pleasure twisted tight in his core.

your name left his lips again, barely more than a whisper.

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned, voice breaking.

but even as he said it, his hips bucked once, shallow and shaky, and his other hand slid from the bed to your hair, not to guide—just to feel. to anchor himself in the reality of you.

because if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

but with both hands in your hair now, you took that as a sign he wanted control. so you gave it to him. peering up into his eyes, you let your hands fall behind your back.

he didn’t know how to react at first, but his body took over. his hips rolled forward in slow, tentative thrusts, careful, almost shy. not wanting to hurt you.

then you let out a muffled moan—and he broke.

a curse slipped past his lips as his grip in your hair tightened. his pace shifted, thrusts deeper, more desperate, using your mouth to chase his own pleasure.

megumi was unraveling.

his head tipped back, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to hold on for just another second, another breath—but you made it impossible. every swirl of your tongue, every soft sound you made around him, pushed him further, faster, to the edge.

“shit, I’m gonna—” he gasped, body tensing beneath your touch, but it was too late.

his hips stuttered, a broken moan catching in his throat as he came, full and hard, his entire body locking up beneath you.

the pleasure hit him like a wave—sharp, dizzying, too much and not enough all at once. his chest heaved, heart racing as his hand slid from your hair to his side, suddenly too weak to hold onto anything at all.

you slowed, gentle now, letting him ride it out until his body relaxed completely, slumping back against the side of the bed like every bone in him had melted.

he looked down at you, eyes hazy but full of adoration. for you.

“…c’mere,” he murmured, voice rough, still breathless.

he caught your wrist gently and tugged you toward him, guiding you both from the floor onto the bed and pulling you into his lap. his arms wrapped around your waist as you settled over him.

that look came over him again—that soft, stunned expression like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. like he didn’t know what he did to deserve this moment, to deserve you.

“what did I say about staring?” you huffed.

a sheepish grin tugged at his lips, but his eyes never left yours. “can’t help it,” he murmured, voice low and honest. “you’re breathtaking.”

your breath hitched, the sincerity in his gaze making your heart stutter. so instead of answering, you leaned forward and kissed him—slow and sweet. his hands gripped your waist a little tighter, anchoring himself to you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

when you pulled back just enough to speak, your noses still brushed. “you’re such a sap.”

“only for you.”

and when he kissed you again, it was deeper. warmer. like a promise—one he didn’t know how to say yet, but was desperate to show.

his hands slid from your waist to your ass, gripping tight as he began to move you against him—slow, deliberate, chasing friction that quickly turned into frustration.

because nothing was happening.

he stilled, breath catching in his throat. shit.

too sensitive. too spent. his body was still reeling from earlier, and no matter how much he wanted you—and he wanted you, badly—his dick wasn’t cooperating.

panic flickered behind his eyes, but he masked it quickly, shifting gears before the moment could break. because even if he couldn’t fuck you properly, he was still going to give you everything.

“lay down,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, commanding.

your breath hitched, a bright flush blooming across your cheeks. “I — look, I…”

you stumbled over the words, lips parted, eyes now avoiding his.

the sudden shift in your energy caught him off guard, and he stilled immediately. his hands loosened their grip as he searched your face, but the way your eyes darted away from his made it hard to read you.

so gently, he raised a hand to your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your face toward his—giving you no choice but to meet his gaze.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, voice soft but steady, concern laced through every word.

you hesitated, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “I don’t know,” you said quietly. “I just—I—you make me feel really good, megumi. and I guess… I can’t help but feel like I don’t make you feel the same. kind of feel like I’m not good enough, not gonna lie.”

he stared at you, stunned—jaw slack, breath caught in his throat.

what?

the words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the wind right out of him. you—you—thought you weren’t good enough?

before he could protest, you continued.

“I just — I was so drunk last time and I feel like I made such an idiot of myself - “

“are you serious?” he finally breathed, eyes wide with disbelief. “you have no idea what you do to me.” he shook his head, still reeling. “you’re everything.”

a blush bloomed across your cheeks as you dropped your gaze, quickly hiding your face in your hands.

megumi didn’t let you stay hidden for long though.

he reached for you, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrists and peeling your hands away from your eyes. his touch was soft, patient, like he was handling something fragile.

“last time was perfect,” he murmured, voice low and full of conviction. “you were perfect.”

your eyes met his again, wide and unsure, but the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made something inside you unravel.

your lips connected to his. there was no urgency, no expectation. just warmth, steady and consuming, the kind that wrapped around your ribs and settled deep in your chest.

when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his thumbs brushed along your cheeks. “tell me what you need,” he whispered.

your breath hitched, and your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I need you.”

a wave of emotion passed over him—sharp and sudden, like it caught him off guard.

it wasn’t lust, not entirely. it was deeper. he felt it in his chest, in the tightness in his throat, in the way his grip on you softened like he was holding something precious. because he was.

you needed him.

not just his touch. Him.

he guided you back gently, laying you down against the pillows, his body following yours, settling beside you rather than over you—no pressure, no weight, just presence. his hand traced soft lines along your stomach while his mouth explored yours. learning you all over again.

you exhaled, a sound that was part relief, part want.

he dipped his head to your neck, pressing slow kisses there, savoring every reaction he pulled from you. every sigh, every quiet inhale, every push, every pull.

megumi’s lips ghosted over yours again, slower this time—less about hunger, more about connection. his hands moved with the same careful intent, gliding over your sides, your waist, learning every curve like he was mapping sacred ground.

your body reacted to him like it had been waiting—arching into every touch, chasing his warmth, clinging to the steadiness of him. and he gave it all freely. not just his body, but every unspoken word, every ounce of tenderness he’d never known how to express until now.

he kissed your shoulder, then your collarbone, dragging his mouth lower with reverence. when his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your sweats, he paused, eyes flicking up to yours, silently asking.

you nodded, breath trembling.

then his hand slid between your thighs—slow, deliberate—like he was savoring the moment as much as you were. his fingers moved over the thin fabric of your underwear, gentle at first, just enough to tease, to coax a soft sound from your lips.

megumi watched you closely, eyes fixed on your face, soaking in every shift of your expression. the way your brows pinched. the way your lips parted. the way your hips arched ever so slightly into his hand.

“shit, baby, you’re so wet,” he murmured, awe laced into every word. “just for me?”

you nodded, unable to find your voice through the heat blooming in your chest, your stomach, your core.

his fingers slid beneath the fabric, brushing against your warmth—bare and slick and ready. you gasped, and his name spilled from your mouth like instinct.

he groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as he kissed your chest, your sternum, the space between your ribs—every inch.

and then he started moving his fingers.

curling them upward into you.

your body reacted before you could even think—hips rolling into his touch, breath coming faster, hands fisting in the sheets.

“so pretty,” he whispered, mouth grazing your skin.

and with the way he touched you—how patient, how sure, how devoted he felt—you knew you weren’t going to last long.

each stroke of his fingers was measured, purposeful—like he was learning you second by second, and loving every moment of it.

your head fell back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as his thumb found your clit, circling slow and steady. he watched you like he was mesmerized, every twitch of your body, every rise and fall of your chest.

“that’s it,” he murmured, kissing the edge of your jaw.

the pressure built with every breath, every whispered word, every flick of his fingers. your thighs began to tremble, your hips losing rhythm as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

“megumi—” you gasped, voice breaking.

“i got you, baby,” he replied, firm and quiet.

and you came—hard, breath catching in your throat, back arching as everything else faded away. all that remained was him—his name on your lips, his hands on your skin, his eyes staring at you in awe.

you clung to him through it, fingers digging into his shoulder as wave after wave crashed through you—hot and overwhelming and impossibly good. your breath came in shaky gasps, your whole body trembling beneath his touch.

megumi held you through it all, never letting go. his hand slowed, gentled his movements as you started to come down, his mouth brushing soft kisses along your cheek, your jaw, your temple.

but just as your heartbeat started to steady, he moved again—his fingers plunging back inside you, slow and purposeful. your breath hitched violently, stolen right from your lungs as your body seized all over again.

your hips jolted, a sharp gasp escaping you as your body, still sensitive and undone, tried to process the onslaught of sensation.

“megumi—” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, laced with both need and disbelief.

he didn’t stop. his eyes never left yours, dark and focused, like he was memorizing every flicker of pleasure that crossed your face. “one more,” he murmured, voice low and rough at the edges.

the way he touched you now—slower, deeper—had your legs shaking. you could barely think, couldn’t do anything but feel. the pressure was building all over again, even stronger this time, stoked by the way his thumb pressed against your clit in lazy, perfect circles.

your head fell back against the pillows, a broken moan slipping from your lips.

“so pretty, baby,” megumi breathed, the words slipping out before he could stop them—raw, reverent. and the way your body responded, clenching tight around his fingers, grinding down against his palm—it drove him wild.

“you need more?” he murmured, voice thick with need.

you nodded, fast, desperate—your eyes glassy, lips parted, completely undone beneath him.

“what do you need?” he asked, quieter this time. his fingers maintaining their pace.

your hand rose to his face, trembling fingers brushing along his jaw before trailing to his lips. you didn’t speak—but you didn’t need to. the look in your eyes, the soft stroke of your fingers, told him everything.

a slow smirk curled on his mouth. he knew exactly what you were asking for.

and he didn’t make you wait.

he pulled his fingers from you with a deliberate slowness, the wet sound making your breath hitch. then he was shifting downward, settling between your thighs like he belonged there. his hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he kissed the inside of your thigh—then the other. each press of his lips was maddeningly slow, worshipful.

when his mouth finally found you, your whole body jolted.

a cry tore from your throat as his tongue slid through your folds, soft at first, then firmer, more focused. he groaned against you, like the taste alone was enough to ruin him. his hands pinned your thighs apart, keeping you open for him as he lost himself in you—devouring you with slow, devastating precision.

“megumi,” you gasped, hands flying to his hair, anchoring yourself to him.

he didn’t answer—not with words. just with the roll of his tongue, the way he sucked and licked until your legs were shaking again, until your cries turned into pleas, until you were right on the edge. until your grip in his hair tightened, fingers trembling as another wave built deep in your core—hotter, higher, impossibly intense.

and he still didn’t let up, tongue moving in steady, precise circles, as if he wanted to unravel every last piece of you.

“please,” you whimpered, the word barely audible between your gasps. it wasn’t even clear what you were begging for—release, relief, more of him. all of him.

megumi groaned against you, the vibration shooting straight through your body. one hand slid up, splaying across your stomach, grounding you as your hips bucked beneath his touch.

“you gonna come, pretty girl?” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and hoarse.

you nodded frantically, unable to speak, every part of you strung tight.

and then he pushed two fingers back inside you—deep and slow—curling them just right while his tongue focused on your clit, relentless and perfect. your back arched off the bed, a cry ripping from your throat.

that was it.

you broke with a sob, coming hard against his mouth, your whole body trembling as the pleasure crashed through you—white-hot and endless. megumi held you through every second, never backing down, mouth and fingers working you through it, coaxing every last tremor from your body.

by the time he finally pulled back, your chest was heaving, your limbs weak and boneless, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

he crawled back up your body, eyes on your face now, pupils blown and mouth glistening with you.

“you with me?” he asked softly, fingers brushing your damp hair back from your face.

you gave the faintest nod, still breathless, lips parted as you struggled to steady your heartbeat. your body felt weightless, like you’d drifted somewhere far away and were only just beginning to return.

megumi didn’t expect it when, with a burst of fading strength, you tugged him down into the pillows with you. he followed easily, letting himself be pulled into your warmth, settling beside you as if this was where he belonged.

you draped a leg over his waist, your bare skin brushing his, and his hands instinctively found your body again—one arm wrapping around your waist, the other splaying over the curve of your lower back, pulling you flush against him.

the low hum of the music wrapped around you both like a second blanket, soft and slow, matching the rhythm of your breathing as it calmed. megumi’s fingers traced idle circles on your lower back, his touch gentle now—so different from before, like he was memorizing the shape of you in silence.

your hands threaded through his hair, playing absentmindedly with the strands, tugging just enough to make him hum in response. his eyes were half-lidded, drowsy but locked on you, drinking you in like he still couldn’t quite believe you were real. that this moment was real.

“nice playlist,” he murmured, his voice raspy, content.

you smiled lazily. “made it for you.”

that turned his cheeks pink. “careful,” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours. “you keep doing things like that and I’ll start thinking I matter to you.”

your breath hitched—not because of what he said, but because of the way he said it. light, teasing. but there was a weight behind it, a question tucked between the syllables.

you pulled back just enough to look at him, your thumb stroking across his cheekbone.

“you do,” you said, simply.

he stilled beneath you.

his jaw flexed, like he was trying to hold something back—an emotion too heavy to name. his hand at your back tightened, just slightly, anchoring himself to you like he needed the contact to believe you.

“yea?” he murmured.

“mhm,” was your simple reply. simple, but held weight.

simple, but it was everything. it sank into him, filled all the hollow spaces he’d tried so hard to ignore. made him feel like he could finally exhale.

“never thought i’d get to have this,” he admitted, eyes dropping to your lips. “you.”

your heart thudded against your ribs, aching at the vulnerability in his voice. you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “well you do. you have me.”

he kissed you then—slow and deep, full of everything he hadn’t said out loud.

when he finally pulled away, it wasn’t by much. he just held you there, breathing you in like he could tether himself to you that way.

then he shifted slightly, tucking you closer against his chest. his arms wrapped around you tighter, strong and sure, his hand sliding up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. you could feel his heart beating beneath your ear, steady and reassuring, lulling you deeper into the warmth of him.

and he stayed like that, rubbing gentle circles against your spine, even as your breathing grew heavier, slower.

even as your body melted completely into his.

even as sleep finally pulled you under—safe, protected, and loved, right there in his arms.

“dude. you’re glowing.”

megumi didn’t look up from his coffee.

yuji leaned across the table, eyes narrowed, arms braced like he was preparing for interrogation.

nobara sat beside him, picking at her croissant with barely contained glee. “he came in wearing the same clothes from yesterday. and he’s in a good mood. that never happens. like—ever.”

“I’m always in a good mood,” megumi said flatly, sipping from his mug.

“you’re usually in a tolerable mood,” nobara corrected. “but today? you smiled at the barista. smiled, megumi.”

the raven haired boy rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite suppress the upward twitch of his lips. “you two are being way too extra about this.”

yuji let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “so something did happen!”

megumi sighed and leaned back in his chair, letting the coffee cup rest between his hands. his gaze flicked toward the window—calm, unreadable. “nothing you need to know about.”

nobara raised a brow. “that’s not a no.”

“it’s also not a yes.”

yuji thumped his fist lightly on the table. “c’mon, bro, just spill. you finally get with her and now you don’t have anything to say?”

megumi gave him a look that could have frozen lava.

“okay, backing off.” yuji raised both hands in surrender but couldn’t hide his grin.

nobora leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “you know we’re just happy for you, right?”

megumi’s expression softened—barely. “I know.”

“then why not tell us?” yuji butted in.

megumi’s gaze dropped to the table.

because it’s mine. and i’m not ready to share it yet.

as if nobara read what he was thinking, she told yuji to back off.

and he listened. didn’t push after that.

eventually, the pink haired boy launched into a story about a broken vending machine near the auditorium that stole his last $5, and nobara explained how she was going to murder her econ professor. but megumi sat quietly, the edge of a smile still lingering on his face.

a certain memory from last night flickered in his mind—your hands in his hair, your breath against his skin, the way you’d whispered that he had you.

yea. he wasn’t ready to share that yet.

#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk smut

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hivemuthur · 3 months ago

Text

The Game of Spin The Bottle

viktorxfemale!reader and also viktorxjayce and viktorxeveryone and everyonexeveryone (mature? I guess)

word count: 2,6K

summary: Lol, the way I've lied to you. Upon an utterly unpopular demand (like, two people asked), I present to you a tiny spin-off of The Game of Teaching Body in which Hale kisses Jayce, and basically everyone kisses everyone. Because no reason.

author's note: I have nothing to justify this. I wrote this for shits and giggles. Please don't ask me to write part two :')

cross posted on AO3

—

Well, this was just severely unlucky. It looked like the entirety of Uni had decided to desert for the long weekend, and the last people standing were Mel, Jayce, Sue, Hale, Viktor, and you. Utterly bored, overstudied, and understimulated, with vast empty spaces of common rooms to occupy, you bothered yourself with card and board games.

Mel and Jayce were scrolling through their phones, showing each other where their classmates had dared to go on a trip and occasionally scoffing. Sue had left around twenty minutes ago after saying, “Ugh, I’ll be right back,” and Hale was splayed on a couch, reading a romance novel, giggling whenever a smut chapter appeared.

You didn’t mind that much, having beaten Viktor in beggar-my-neighbour three times already and counting.

"Alright, this anomaly is against all laws of statistics. You have to be cheating," he sighed when you snatched a stack of cards for yourself, leaving him with barely five in his hand. "We should play rummy. I would positively destroy you in rummy."

"Keep telling yourself that, love," you chirped, shuffling your victory pile. "There is no way to cheat in this game. What was I saying, thank God you’re pretty, right?"

"You will pay for this. Just you wait," he smirked, placing another losing card on the table. And you just sighed, shaking your head, knowing that another round of naked chess was imminent and that you were, in fact, going to pay for this.

"Oh, you are such a sore loser, Viktor. Just bow to my admirable war game tactics. Maybe you were not made for the battlefield, and that’s alright. Just as I said," you mused, covering his two with your four and swiping it off the table. "Thank God you are pretty."

"Guys, a hand?" came Sue’s voice from where she had gotten stuck in the swing door.

Jayce, ever the gentleman, scrambled up from between Mel’s knees on the armchair and rushed to hold it open for Sue.

"Sue, what is this?" he asked with a chuckle, seeing her trotting carefully through the room.

"Drinks. And a bottle. I’m fed up with this morbid time-wasting. We are playing a game," she announced in a tone that would meet no objections.

She placed a tray of six glasses, a bottle of vodka, Coke, and another bottle—an empty one—on the floor between the pieces of lounge set you were all occupying.

"Another game? I might just sit that one out," Viktor winced, having lost his fourth round of beggar-my-neighbour to you.

"Oh, poor Viktor, are you afraid you’re going to lose again?" Mel snickered, her attention caught by Sue’s determined expression. "What are we playing, Sue? Flanks?"

"No. Spin the bottle."

The whine that echoed across the room was deafening.

"Oh, come on, guys. I am so freakin’ bored I will bite my hand off. And"—she lifted her finger and lowered her eyes to the shot glasses—"I am touch-starved."

"Sue, I can give you a kiss if you miss Alice, you know?" you snorted, catching the terror in Viktor’s eyes.

He looked something between deep horror and exasperation, throwing you pleading glances as if to say, Please save me.

“Well, I’m already drunk, so I am obviously in,” Hale sang, waving around his flask. “Never pass the opportunity to kiss my lovely wife.” He rose from the couch and placed a loud peck on the top of your head. And even though he was an image of unwavering composure, you knew how Hale’s heart had jumped at this chaotic idea. Havoc wrecker.

“Eh, what the hell. Let’s do something stupid. But we need some ground rules for that, I think,” Mel shrugged, taking control of the situation. “Everyone gets to veto one person with no questions attached. If you veto twice, you’re out. We don’t tell anyone about it, and we don’t get upset if someone doesn’t want to kiss us. Cheeks don’t count, but a peck on the mouth does. All in favour?” She chanted, raising her hand to seal the vow.

Three hands shot up. Yours joined, timidly, accompanied by an apologetic smile you threw to Viktor.

He scrunched his brows, looked around, and, feeling five pairs of judgmental eyes on him, relented. “Fine. But I need more than one drink for that.”

Sue clapped her hands and opened the bottles. The group settled on the floor in a circle. Hale took over bartender duty while the rest just chuckled awkwardly at each other.

“Are you sure about this?” Viktor whispered, leaning into your ear, his hand searching yours for a reassuring squeeze.

“Since when are you a prude?” you smiled, but seeing his expression serious, you added, “Unless you don’t want to do it, or you don’t want me to do it, which is absolutely fine in both cases,” you muttered, suddenly unsure, only to be met with a cackle.

“Eh, I’ve done worse,” Viktor shot you an innocent look and laughed again upon seeing your feigned shocked face. “Just please, don’t kiss Jayce with a tongue if you get to it.”

“Oh, no worries,” you said, brushing hair away from his forehead and kissing his cheek. “Just please, do kiss Jayce with a tongue if you get to it,” you whispered into his ear and chuckled, watching a red blush rapidly creep up his neck.

One of the rules invented along the way was that everyone had to be at least two drinks deep to start. So the first part of the afternoon passed between jokes and snickering at each other, while Sue complained about Alice not being around. Come as it may, the initial originator was the last one to down her glass, and it only happened under Hale’s hastening comments.

“Alright, calm down! Jesus, and I thought I had a problem,” Sue rolled her eyes, drinking the remnants of a disgustingly warm cocktail of vodka and Coke. “The youngest starts?”

Met with shrugs, she sat up on her ankles and gave the first spin. Six held breaths and approximately two seconds later, the bottle neck pointed at Mel, and Jayce couldn’t help a quiet “yes” slipping from his mouth. He immediately covered it with his hand and let out an awkward cough, but Mel noticed.

“I hope you’re happy that I’m kissing your girlfriend—not because I’m not kissing you,” Sue deadpanned, giving him a bored glance. But Jayce was already nodding at the first part, so all was good.

“Alright, let’s break some ice.” Mel smiled at Sue, propped herself on one hand, the other reaching for Sue’s chin, and pressed a loud, affectionate peck to her lips. “Any notes?” she asked, still holding Sue by the jaw.

Sue blinked, gulped, and chuckled awkwardly. “No notes.”

The group laughed, and Jayce looked so overjoyed, Mel had to elbow his ribs to make him stop grinning. “Get a hold of yourself, we’re just starting.”

Jayce muttered a quiet apology but kept giggling all the way through—until Mel’s spin landed on Viktor. She gave him a questioning look, which bounced off him and landed on you.

“Uh, okay? I mean, no notes?” You were actually fascinated by how this was going to go, so you really had no objections. And Viktor seemed unbothered enough. Mel’s eyes turned to Jayce, who was clearly calculating something in his head.

“Honey?” Mel prompted, and Jayce shook his head.

“Are you kidding? Make him squirm, baby.” He patted her thigh and shot a dark, devilish grin toward Viktor, making him clasp a hand to his forehead.

Mel nodded and stood, her legs already a bit wobbly from the alcohol. She stepped through the middle of the cursed circle and crouched beside Viktor, who was leaning against the couch with his legs spread behind you. She cupped his face and pressed her mouth to his. Timid at first—but Viktor wouldn’t lose this duel. No hands involved on his side, he simply leaned into the kiss and swept his tongue across Mel’s lip, giving her a gentle nib. She gasped and withdrew, still holding his face.

“Not bad,” she said, trying to sound unbothered, but it came out too breathy.

Viktor smiled. “I know. And who’s squirming now, Jayce?” he shot back.

Jayce raised his hands in defeat. The only one squirming was him.

You watched the entire scene, utterly bewildered, and wondered if this was what it looked like when Viktor was kissing you. Not bad, indeed.

You didn’t have to wonder for long, because Viktor’s spin landed on you. The way his lips clashed against yours—complete with gross moans and smacking sounds—made Sue look away. His hands had already found your waist before you even glanced away from the bottle, pulling you in, making a clear point of how much he was going to be holding back with everyone else.

“Am I your favourite or something?” you grinned when he finally pulled away.

“Something like that,” he muttered, ignoring the outraged whines in the background. “Seems like it’s your turn?”

It was. And when you spun—reluctantly, because Viktor’s kiss had already made your evening—the neck pointed at Jayce.

“You’re lucky I’m not a vengeful prick,” Jayce smirked at Viktor before crawling toward you on all fours and planting three loud, innocent pecks on your mouth. You burst out laughing on the third one, and Jayce added another, this time on your nose, just for good measure.

Breaths were held again when Jayce’s spin landed on Hale, who tucked an imaginary strand of hair behind his ear, playing coy.

“Mr. Tallis. I thought you’d never ask,” he batted his eyelashes. “Unless… you still get to veto, I’ll remind you.”

“Bollocks, no way!” Jayce exclaimed, visibly offended, but he didn’t move from his spot. “Mel, any objections?” He turned to his girlfriend, who just patted his cheek and sang, “I’d sooner die than veto this, honey.”

Jayce shrugged, waiting for Hale to make the next move. Hale shook his head and rose to his feet. “I see, you’ll make me do all the work,” he mused, stepping carefully between the mess of legs and glasses. He knelt next to Jayce, cupped his face, and hummed, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you,” earning himself wild howls from everyone and an obscene red blush on Jayce’s cheeks.

And when they finally kissed, the group fell silent. Hale took a deep breath and pressed Jayce’s face into his as if he were his long-lost lover—ever the showman. Jayce allowed himself to be kissed, Mel allowed her boyfriend to be kissed, and both you and Viktor watched with wide eyes, chins propped on your hands. Sue peeked through her fingers, holding back squeals.

It lasted for an eternity before Hale finally disconnected his mouth (and tongue) from Jayce’s, and Jayce whimpered—then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Mr. Tallis, you are delectable,” Hale declared, caressing Jayce’s cheek and glancing discreetly at Mel, just to check if she minded. She didn’t. He moved back to his spot gracefully, leaving Jayce stunned and red all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears.

“And who, I wonder, will be next?” he mused, twisting the bottle, clearly pleased with his performance.

You almost yelled an undignified “yes” when his spin pointed at Viktor. And Viktor’s breath hitched.

“Shit,” he muttered, scratching the nape of his neck. Jayce giggled, delighted that karma had arrived so swiftly.

“Veto?” Hale asked, his tone challenging.

That was enough for Viktor to recompose himself and smirk. “Never. Show me what you’ve got.”

With the same deliberate movement as before, Hale stood, crossed the circle, and knelt next to Viktor. This time, he brushed his thumb over Viktor’s lip instead of cupping his face. And Viktor waited.

Until Hale’s mouth touched his.

That was when Viktor cupped Hale’s face and pulled him closer. The kiss was slow, hot, with tongue and all. Their noses pressed together, mouths smacking, teeth grazing each other’s lips. And watching two of your favourite boys kiss as if they were alone in the room made you clench your thighs together. Ugh, that’s new.

Before Hale could pull away, Viktor bit his lip, earning a low, guttural chuckle.

Hale took a deep breath and glanced over at Mel. “I second Miss Medarda. Not bad.” He stood, brushing his hand against Viktor’s cheek. “Though if I were to pick… Jayce, you are my favourite.” He smiled with all of his teeth and sent a wink in Jayce’s direction.

Poor Jayce had just gotten rid of his blush, and it came rushing back.

You sat with your eyes glued to Viktor’s lips, your own mouth hanging open. When he noticed, he shot you a glance.

“What?”

“N-nothing,” you stuttered, blushing. Thank fucking God everyone was a deep shade of red—save for Mel, who somehow managed to keep her dignity intact, idly playing with Jayce’s hair, a happy smile dancing on her lips.

When Viktor spun again, it took all the remnants of your composure not to throw yourself back onto the floor screaming.

It fucking pointed at Jayce.

And it was both heaven and hell for you.

They both laughed, shoulders shaking, hands clasped to their foreheads.

“Should we veto?” Jayce asked. “I’m not sure the girls will survive this,” he wheezed, glancing at your pained expression.

Viktor seized the opportunity and pressed a small peck to your temple. “Don’t worry, lásko, you are my favourite,” he barely breathed in between laughs—right as you smacked his chest.

Then, without further ado, he just went ahead and kissed Jayce.

And it wasn’t as hot as either of them with Hale, but when your eyes met Mel’s across the room, you knew you were both thinking the exact same thing.

Viktor and Jayce kissed like people who had already kissed in the past.

And for some weird reason, it made your stomach flutter.

No introductions, no hesitation—just tongues dancing and chests pressed together. Jayce’s hands in Viktor’s hair. Viktor’s hands on Jayce’s waist. Hot.

After another round of unhinged chuckles and drinks, you were all drunk enough to just keep playing until everyone had been evenly kissed. Lucky Sue got to kiss everyone—sometimes more than once—so when Viktor, by now thoroughly intoxicated, asked if she had any special requests for him, she clamped a hand over his mouth and yelled, “Veto!”

By the time the alcohol had run dry, and everyone was kissed out, you helped Viktor scramble up from the floor and passed him his cane with a smirk. The group exchanged warm goodbyes, swearing on your lives never to speak of this night again before heading off in different directions.

You followed Viktor to his room without a word, trotting obediently behind him. Seeing your red face, he cast you a sideways glance.

“Haven’t you had enough for one evening?”

“Please, don’t tease me—I am barely holding it together,” you let out a breathy chuckle and wrapped your arms around Viktor’s waist, utterly defeated. “I think I like watching you kiss boys, Viktor,” you whispered into his ear, wincing at your own embarrassment.

“Oh? Well, I like watching you kiss girls, I must admit. But I generally like watching you… doing whatever,” he smirked, sweeping his tongue across your mouth. “Would you like to… explore the topic further?”

“Maybe. But ask me when I’m sober,” you quipped, covering your face with your hand. “For now, all I want to explore is you.”

Viktor didn’t need to be told twice. He jingled the keys to his room in front of your eyes and hastily unlocked the door.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x f!reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #viktor x jayce #viktor x mel #the game of teaching body #viktor fluff

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jjkarmy091 · 5 months ago

Text

Second Best- Jungkook (part 7)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Author's note: I already had this chapter prepared that's why I'm posting it. The next ones are gonna be the much longer, so probably will take a little more to be posted! I hope you enjoy it and once again thank you for you support on Second Best 💜

“Y/n? Wooow. I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you okay? Saw you a little nervous back there, came to ask if you needed anything. Didn't know it was actually you” it took her a while to be able to speak again but managed to say something.

“No, I’m good. I mean I was with my friend but lost sight of her and now I can’t find her and I'm losing my mind because I don’t know where I am or how I’ll get back to the chalet we’re in and ----” she rambled, making Tae be even more confused.

“Hey, calm down. Sewoon really doesn’t change. I’m sure she didn’t see you weren’t following her tracks. Do you wanna drink something and catch up? I heard hot chocolate here is fantastic.”

“Hmmm... I- I'm not here with Sewoon.. It’s Lisa, do you remember her? I saw her one night I went out with Sewoon and Jun--” y/n stops and tries to rephrase her words hoping Taehyung didn’t catch it. “Anyways, yeah, I’m here with Lisa. Girls trip actually, first day and I'm already lost." she laughs about her luck (or lack thereof).

“It wouldn't be you if you didn't have anything contradictory to say about your adventures to be very honest. So what do you say? You, me and hot chocolate? Maybe you’ll see Lisa around there. If not I’ll help you look for her I promise.” Taehyung says with his charming smile. You remember Sewoon’s constant bragging about his smile, it was always her favourite trait of his. That and how good he treated her. She got really devastated when they broke things off. You felt really bad and tried to help her the best way you could, but she never gave you any information about their break up. You always suspected it, but never pushed it. “Let’s go then. You pay anyway so I’m not backing up.” Y/n says with a genuine smile. Tae was right, she could find Lisa on the way there and besides that she knew him for years now and he was someone she could trust.

She really didn't want to be alone anyway, maybe it would be good. Y/n remembers that the only person she kept in touch with was Sewoon and she never realized why she didn't continue to get in touch with her old friends. Was she so focused on her friendship with Sewoon, being grateful for everything they've been through together that she forgot to appreciate the little things and people in her life?

Y/n didn't understand why she was thinking about all of this right now, she was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't realize they were arriving at the cafe close to where they were before. He opened the door for her and she thanked him silently, nodding her head and walking in ahead of him, sitting at the nearest table. It was strange, but all that silence between her and Tae wasn't uncomfortable at all. Y/n remembers that before he and Sewoon started dating, they were very close, maybe that was why she was so relaxed, despite the circumstances. The waitress came to get their order and while they were waiting Tae started talking

“This place is fantastic, isn't it? I've been here a few times and I never get tired of this view.” he said looking outside. “The first time I came was when I broke up with Sewoon, you know? Speakig of I saw her a few months ago when I returned to visit my parents, I ran into her in a restaurant, we exchanged a few words but nothing more. Are you still friends? I never heard anything from you again. What have you been up to?” They were interrupted by the waitress delivering their orders, thanked her and both tried the region's famous hot chocolate. It really was wonderful

“Yes, I'm still friends with her. I- my god Tae, how long has it been since we last saw each other? she laughed. “So much happened between the lines after we all separated. I mean, I'm still in the same place. I rented an apartment for myself, work in a coffee shop relatively close to home too, you know how it is, I've always been very reserved, my life remains the same. I haven't changed much since we were younger" She said smiling

“You never change Y/n. That was always what caught my attention the most, always so dedicated and focused on your goals, always so... You. I'm glad to see you're still like this. And boys? Do you have someone special in your life?” At this Y/n chokes on her hot chocolate. She wasn’t expecting this question, at all. She cleared her throat. “Yes. I mean no. There's not much to say about it. You know me, I'm weird when it comes to guys Tae." She laughs, trying to lighten the mood and make the subject disappear. Why was she always so nervous about this kind of topic? Deep down she knew why but didn't want to think about it just as she didn't want anyone to know that at 23 years old she never had a real boyfriend or experienced anything related to guys besides kissing. A shame, she knows.

“Weird why? Have you ever taken a good look at yourself? Y/n you were always beautiful and time only continued to be generous with you. It wasn't for nothing that I had a massive crush on you when in highschool. I still feel hurt that you didn't give me a chance”. Tae laughs like it was the most natural thing in the world while Y/n looked at him with a confused expression. Crush? Chance? What the hell did was he talking about? Taehyung must have noticed because seconds later he stopped laughing and looked at her seriously. “It looks like you've seen a ghost Y/n. Is everything okay? I'm just kidding, I know how to handle rejection, don't worry, I was never upset. Life went on”

“It's not that, it's just... What rejection? I never rejected you Tae. I didn't even know you had a crush on me, you caught me off guard."

“What do you mean? That was the reason why I approached you at school in the first place. Don't act like you don't know, you even responded to the letter I sent you.” Damn he was really offended by your lack of memory.

Y/n looked at him sternly. "Tae I'm telling you I didn't know anything about this, I didn't respond to any letter, I don't know what you're talking about. Stop making fun of me” Now she was getting mad. Why would she lie about this. Tae's face fell and if before his skin was glowing by the European sun now he could be confused with the wall of the cafe they were at. He was white as snow. Literally

“Sophmore. It was the year I started hanging out with you more, I got closer little by little until the three of us spent a lot of time together. At that time I had a huge crush on you. Sewoon knew, I asked her to help me. I was always asking her things about you, what you liked, what your favorite color was, that sort of thing that kids do when they want to win someone over, but you never paid attention to me so I decided to write you a letter that, by the way, was the most beautiful thing I ever wrote. Sewoon said she would make sure the letter reached you. A few days later I received a letter saying that you were sorry but didn't feel the same way about me and that we could be friends but nothing more and you didn't want to make things awkward between us, so I dropped the subject. At the time I was really sad but I understood your reasons. Sewoon was fantastic duringt my heartbreak. She supported me a lot and as time passed, she ended up telling me she had feelings for me and one thing led to another and we ended up dating, as you know. The rest is history”

Y/n was completely in shock, she had no words, no reaction, nothing. Her brain was working too fast and she couldn't keep up. When she was finally going to say something, someone called her name. "Y/n. Ohh Y/n. I've been looking for you like a fool, I never saw you again, I thought you were stuck in an alley and I wouldn't find you in all this snow. God I’m so thankful I found you but also wanna kill you for disappearing like this."

“"I... first of all it wasn't me who ran off, it was you! When I looked to the side you were no longer there and I started to panic. Luckily I found an old friend around here too, you remember Tae right?” Lisa looked at where he was sitting

“Tae? Sewoon's Tae? is it really you? Damn, you look different. Finally managed to grow a beard I see and you also got buff. Your old self must be very proud right now” Lisa teases. How does she manage to have these comments at the most inopportune moments?

“Thank you for taking care of y/n in my absence. We just got here and she’s already making trouble, bad habits never die" she says winking at him and teasing Y/n while she sighs, rolling her eyes

“The pleasure was mine. I'm very happy to see you, despite the situation." His gaze passes from one to the other "how long are you going to stay here?" Y/n responds an "I don't know" while Lisa says "a whole week". They look at each other and Lisa makes a face "don't tell me you're already changing your mind! Y/n you promised me." She didn't say anything, instead she picked up the hot chocolate and drank it all. Everywhere she went it seemed like trouble was always behind her. She wanted to shout, grabLisa and leave but she knew Tae wasn't guilty of anything and she felt ashamed of doing it, as if she was capable anyway. She knew Tae felt the discomfort in the air because he got up, left two bills on the table, straightened up and spoke

"I'm glad you've already found each other. I have to get going, but I'll see you around. Lisa, order something for yourself, this is on me. Enjoy the rest of your day and please stay out of trouble” He said laughing while putting on his coat. He started heading towards the exit but looked back one last time, put his hands in his pockets and left. Only then did Y/n manage to let go of all the air she had been holding in.

“Did I interrumpt something here? I’m sorry I didn’t even ask, but I was so worried about you. Y/n?- Y/n?” Lisa started to get worried. After Tae left she got so pale and apathic. Y/n puts her elbows on the table and her hands on her head and begged "I need to get some air. I can't breathe. Please Lisa, no more questions, let’s get out of here. Please.” Lisa didn't say anything else, picked her up and helped her go outside where they stayed for a while until Y/n started to feel a bit better. Lisa didn’t say anything else and just waited for her friend to say something.

“Sorry Lisa, I don't know what happened. I'm just... This was supposed to be an amazing time for us and I’m just ruining it, I’m so sorry" She hugged Lisa and started crying. She had so much accumulated from the last few days and now this bombshell dropped on her. She didn't understand. She always saw Tae and Sewoon together back in school. This didn't add up.

“What happened back there Y/n?”

“We were just talking about how we were doing right now, then he asked me if I had anyone in my life and I got nervous. Then he revealed to me that he had a huge crush on me at highschool and I was super quiet, I wasn't expecting it. He said that Sewoon helped him and everything, that he wrote me a letter to which I responded. Lisa I swear I never knew about anything. Tae's feelings, the letter, nothing, the only thing I know is that since Tae approached us, Sewoon has always been interested in him and that things were going well between them.”

"Y/n there is something you have to understand. Just because you think Sewoon is a good person, doesn't mean it corresponds to reality. Why do you think I never joined you when she was present? Honestly, I never understood what good you saw in her. Deep down she was always like that, bad and conceited. I think you were always too good to realize that she was always jealous of you. I really thought there would be a time where you would open your eyes but not even with the situation that happened with Jungkook did you stay away from her. She was mean! She knows it, you know it and everyone knows it! It wasn't cool, period! You need to open your eyes”

“But why Lisa, why?! I never did anything to upset her, I was always in my corner. You all know that I've always been very shy and reserved, I never cared about that kind of things. There is no comparison between me and her, I don't understand why she acts like that. I never gave her reasons” Y/n was extremely affected by today’s events.

“Exactly Y/n, you have no comparison and she knows it! You are calm, focused, respectful, you help everyone around you without looking back, you don't go hurt anyone to get what you want. And she is the opposite of you, she knows that. You attract attention with your simplicity. She's eccentric and lucky to be pretty, but it's all superficial. Why do you think nothing lasts for her? Think Y/n, be smart!”

Y/n didn't say anything else and started walking to the chalet. Although she didn't want to admit it Lisa was right. No good friend would do what Sewoon has done to her. She knew Y/n had feelings for Jungkook and at still went for him, she didn't think twice. Y/n would never do that to her. Her parents were not that present in her life but the values they instilled in her were always the best, perhaps it was time to put them into practice.

As soon as they arrived Lisa started to prepare something for them to eat and Y/n went to take a shower. It was exactly what she needed, a long, hot bath to relax her body and her mind. But instead she started thinking about Jungkook and how much she missed him, his smell, his hugs, the way he makes her feel alive. She never turned on her phone again, she should at least tell him she was fine.

They've never gone this long without talking. Everything was eating her up. She was being unfair to Jungkook, he wasn't to blame for what she was feeling. He didn't know anything, because she never told him, nor hinted. Sewoon knew, as she knew that Tae liked her and was never honest about it. Things were slowly coming together in her brain, but will things get fixed when she returns home?

She gets out of the shower, takes her bathrobe and wraps herself in it, does her skin care and leaves the bathroom heading to the living room to find Lisa sitting by the table with everything ready and several bottles of wine.

“ I'm sorry for everything. I have been such a terrible friend and have neither helped to lighten the mood nor making this a fun time for us.” Lisa doesn't say anything, just motions for Y/n to sit next to her, pouring her a glass of wine. She sits down next to her and drinks a little.

“I know how you feel Y/n. Even if it doesn't seem like it, I've been in your shoes before, where Sewoon played her part. It's not something I like or want to talk about, but maybe it explains why I withdrawn myself. I can’t take her seriously and just to see she keeps doing it makes me want to punch her in the face. I’m here for you but you need to change something about how you view things and face it when you know they’re wrong. I did. Let's just enjoy another day or two here. Whatever you decide next you tell me. We will have lots of opportunities to come back here and honestly I prefer that you resolve everything that bothers you first so that you can enjoy things as you deserve. And now let's stop talking about sad things for a while, let's eat, drink and listen to music. I won’t say for us to break something because then my father will annoy my ass. There was one time someone called my dad and told him I was making too much noise everyday, he appeared here and caught me and the boy I was having a fling with at the time in the middle of sex, you can imagine how that went.”

Y/n laughed out loud. "and you say I’m the one who always has the most embarassing moments. I can imagine your dad’s face, dude how gross.” Y/n said making a disgusted face

“Hands down to that. It was the worst experience of my life, for real. This happened when I was 21 tho, was he expecting me to be a nun?” Lisa laughs and takes a sip of wine. Y/n stays quiet for a moment, but then blurts out

“I never had sex” Lisa looked at her and smiled “So? Everyone has their own time Y/n. If you feel good about your decision that’s all that matters”

“Sewoon would always mock me about it. She said I wasn’t normal for waiting so long to have intercourse. She would tell me all about her adventures with guys, she even tried to tell me about her and Jungkook. She would make me feel really bad, there was one time when she came to my house, drunk as hell and told me about an adventure she had with Tae in the bathroom of a club and then she turned to me and said I was a freak for not wanting to sleep with anyone and that it wasn't normal at my age to not be curious about it. I was so upset with her that the next day I ignored her completely, but it didn’t last long”

“You’re really dumb when you want to, y’know? If it was me I would have kicked her ass and show her a real deal” Y/n nods with Lisa's statement “I know Lisa, I know. I was dumb, I see that now. The thing is Sewoon was my comfort zone. I grew up with her my whole life, although there were some times her attitude would upset me a little, but she was the only there for me, maybe that's why I always ignored the bad things she would do, now looking back I know that her intentions were not the greatest.

“Total bitchy. So you never had a boyfriend? You never did anything? 0?” Y/n looked at her mad “No I’m sorry I was just-- That's not what you're thinking, calm down. I was just trying to understand what level we are at. I'm not judging Y/n, as I said, we have to respect others choices, but why? I mean you're amazing, I'm sure there was someone who has shown interest and made a move”

“I did have a boyfriend but nothing special, we were very young and immature. I wasn’t ready for that and I’m sure he wasn’t either. So maybe that doesn’t count? My shyness always stopped me from doing a lot of things and with Sewoon by my side I saw everyone paying attention to her and I was always left behind, it kinda made me think I wasn't good enough for anyone to pay attention to, so I ended up taking refuge in my studies. Even when there was someone showing interest in me I thought they were taking advantage of my naivety. I never had anything to offer, why would they pay attention to me when they had her. All of this changed when I met Jungkook, he made me feel seen. For the first time I felt like I could be myself without being afraid of being judged.

“Do you miss him?”

“I do. I miss him so much and he is not to blame for what is happening. He doesn't know my feelings. I've been to blame for something he has no idea about. I've been trying not to pick up the cell phone and talk to him, apologize for my actions and explain him everything but if I do I'm afraid of ruining our friendship, though it's already damaged after that night at the club.” talking about Jungkook made her heart hurt as she felt tears prick her eyes. She was so in love with him, only if she had built the courage to speak up.

Lisa gets up and goes to the small closet with a drawer near her, grabbing a cell phone and giving it to y/n. "Call him or text him, whatever eases your anxiety a little, or don't do anything at all but don't stop enjoying the moment you're in now just because you can't let go of the past. Go get some rest I'll clean today, make sure to sleep well tonight because tomorrow we’re gonna have fun and the past will be just that. Goodnight babe. If you need anything I’m just a knock away”

Y/n cleans her tears, grabs her phone and hugs Lisa, appreaciating everything she has done for her. She doesn't know if it's the wine taking effect or the anxiety growing inside her but a huge urge to vomit appears as soon as she turns on her cell phone. Sitting on the edge of the bed she starts seeing the notifications pop up. Unanswered texts and calls from Jungkook, begging her to say if she's okay, questioning why she left and didn't tell him anything. She knows he’s hurt. She hurt him.

A wave of courage washes over her and she writes a text, but suddenly runs to the bathroom and vomits her soul out, ending up staying there for a while and when she returns the courage fades away, as she starts to thinks if it's a nice idea to talk to him. She comes to the conclusion that things are better to stay as they are. When she has the opportunity to talk to him, it's either the end or start of a cycle. After a few minutes she deletes the text she wrote and turns off her cell phone again, putting it on the bedside table.

She wasn't ready for it, not just yet

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Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @11thenightwemet11 @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811

#jungkook #angst #jungkook imagines #bts #bts imagines #imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #fluff #kpop angst #romance #bts angst

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sizzleissues · 1 year ago

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Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

#miraculous ladybug #sizzle sketches #miraculous #miraculous fanart #ml fanart #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #mermay #mermaid au #Ml art

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smartkookiee · 7 months ago

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Wounds We Never Show // Ch.3 - jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Medical Talk/Examination (Disclaimer: I am not an expert in medical things and how hospitals run or work, my knowledge is very limited but I did do a LOT of research for this and I did work for a surgeon for a year so if somethings aren't correct, please don't hold it against me.) Lawyer!Jungkook, Nurse!reader, swearing, mutual hating (I think that's it? Let me know if I missed something) ❥word-count: 6.7k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Five Years Ago.

“Okay, everyone. I’ve posted your group assignments. Please check for your name and your partner, then move to sit together. You’ll be working with them for the rest of the semester, so get acquainted. We’ll start in 15 minutes.”

A wave of groans echoed through the classroom. The final project was looming, and nobody was thrilled about the mandatory paired assignment.

You opened your laptop, already dreading the thought of being stuck with someone you barely knew for the rest of the semester. You scrolled down the list, but when you saw your name next to Jeon Jungkook, your heart dropped.

Of all people... him?

Your fingers hovered over the trackpad as a handful of memories flooded to the front of your mind—You didn’t know him well but you knew Jungkook as your ex’s best friend, David. You felt your stomach churn with bitterness. The guy who probably laughed along when hearing David’s excuses he would use whenever he cheated on you. You had never actually had a chance to meet him since you and David were so on and off but now you couldn’t escape it.

You glanced up, scanning the room. Jungkook was sitting near the front, oblivious, casually scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t noticed you, but then again, why would he? You sank lower in your chair, hoping he wouldn’t find you. Maybe you could just avoid him until the semester ended. But no such luck.

Jungkook stood up, heading to the professor. After a brief conversation, the professor glanced toward the back of the room and pointed at you. Great. Jungkook thanked him and turned, his eyes locking on you.

You didn’t have the chance to escape before he reached you, a friendly smile plastered across his face as he approached. “Hi,” he greeted, extending a hand. “Y/N, right?”

You stared at his hand for a moment, your mind racing with old anger, but you forced yourself to give him a perfunctory shake. “Yeah,” you replied shortly, barely meeting his eyes.

If Jungkook noticed your cold response, he didn’t show it. He sat down next to you, still smiling, as if this was just a regular introduction between classmates. “I don’t know about you, but I have no idea where to start on this project,” he said with a light chuckle, trying to break the ice.

“Yeah,” you muttered, the tension thickening around you. Your voice was tight, your eyes fixed on your laptop screen. You could feel the weight of the past pressing on your chest, making it harder to breathe.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, frowning slightly. “It’s nice to talk to someone, though. I don’t really know anyone in this class.”

“Well I know you.” You say it so quietly Jungkook almost doesn’t register that you said something.

“What?” You glance at him and he has wide doe eyes full of confusion.

“It’s nothing.” You clear your throat and brush him off. Jungkook was still left caught off guard but let it go for just a moment. Pulling his laptop back out of his bag and getting set up next to you.

The silent anger was radiating off of you next to him and Jungkook felt suddenly anxious that he had said something wrong, “I’m sorry but did I offend you or something?”

“Nope.” You say , dry and short.

“Seems like I did something.”

“You didn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.” You say in a more direct tone, looking him in the eyes this time.

Jungkook just stared at you in silence for a moment, confused as to what was happening. Had he met you before? He couldn’t think of a time or place where he would have. He didn’t even recognize your name when he looked at the class list. Maybe you had met and so you were upset that he didn’t remember you.

“I’m sorry for whatever it was I did. I really didn’t mean to offend you.” Jungkook keeps talking but you don’t respond to him. “Can we start over maybe?”

You huffed, “I don’t think so.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling an unfamiliar knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. "Okay..." he muttered under his breath, unsure of what to do next. There was an awkward pause, the kind that stretched and lingered uncomfortably.

Jungkook cleared his throat, still trying to make sense of your reaction. "Look, I really don’t know what’s going on, but if I did something, I’d like to make it right."

You snapped your head toward him, finally unable to hold it in. “You want to make it right? Really?”

He nodded, his expression open, genuinely confused. “I mean, I don’t even know what I did, but yeah.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to hold back the wave of anger rising in your chest. He has no idea. Of course, he doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you, doesn’t know the history. You wanted to scream, but instead, you spoke through gritted teeth. “Maybe you can ask David about it? I’m sure you two can have a great laugh about all of it.”

Jungkook blinked, the mention of David clearly throwing him off balance. “How did you know David?”

“Let’s just do this project and never speak again.” You dodge around his question, facing to the front of the room again. Jungkook was going to say something but was abruptly stopped.

“Okay now that it seems everyone has gotten acquainted, let’s get started.” The voice of your professor is echoing around the room.

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

Present Day

It’s been a week since the wedding.

Melanie and Namjoon were well into their honeymoon and you had been getting pictures the last couple of days. You had been exhausted all week following the wedding. Today was your first day back to work at the hospital though, another twelve hour shift. You were in oncology today and it wasn’t much different than another other hospital floor. It was always a different change of pace, much more difficult emotionally rather than physically.

“Dr. Kim will give you more details about what kind of specifics he likes, you’ve been down here before so I’m sure you will pick it up easily.” Vic, a long time friend and coworker. She was giving some details about Dr. Kim Seokjin and the oncology department. You’d met him before, very funny guy, very goofy which I guess is needed for this specialty.

“Oh for sure. I just haven’t been stuck to a specialty in some time now.” You followed her around into the nurses station and you both take some chairs.

You were a float nurse which means you were placed in different specialties where you were needed. The oncology staff lost some of it’s nurses recently so you were going to be here for a few weeks. Especially because you would also have Vic here with you.

Her full name is Victoria but she has insisted that she never wants to be called that, never stopped you from throwing it out once in a while for funnies. Vic and you were hired at the same time, she used to be a float nurse just like you but eventually took a permanent position up here. She was basically your work wife and you two would always get drinks and hang out outside of work when time allowed, so you were very excited to be with her on shift for the next few weeks.

Vic led you to the nurses’ station, where you both grabbed seats. "Yeah, but at least Seokjin’s goofy enough to keep the mood light when he can. He’s a walking dad joke at this point."

You laughed. "I’m surprised he hasn’t been banned for his humor."

"Honestly, it's only a matter of time," Vic replied, rolling her eyes playfully. "But, seriously, he’s a great doc, and Yoongi—well, you’ll see. They’re a good team." Just as she said that, a surgical resident walked by, nose buried in a chart. Vic immediately perked up, waving dramatically. "Speaking of which, here's my favorite little duckling—Yoongi!"

“What?” Yoongi’s head snapped up, his eyes darting between the two of you as if he was constantly prepared to flee.

“This is Yoongi. Seokjin’s prodigy.” She swiveled from side to side in her seat.

Yoongi shot her a side glance before flicking her shoulder. "Dr. Min,” he corrected, though there was no real heat behind it. He then extended a hand to you, his grip firm but brief. "Nice to meet you."

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

He shook your hand but as soon as he was here he was scurrying away again. Clearly trying to escape Vic’s antics, she probably antagonized him for a long time now.

"Aw, look at him go," Vic cooed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "He pretends to be all tough, but Seokjin has him wrapped around his finger. Cute, right?”

You snorted. “Does he ever stick around long enough for a conversation, or is that a special kind of greeting?”

"He's shy. It's endearing, in a ‘I have to pull teeth to get a full sentence’ kind of way," she quipped. “Anyway, look at us—back together again.” Vic leaned back in her chair, grinning widely. “Now you can finally help me get Seokjin in line. Between the two of us, we might have a chance.”

You laughed, shaking your head. "You think I can do what an entire medical team can’t? I am excited to be working with you again. Same routine, just like the old days.”

“Until I get sick of you, of course,” Vic teased, giving you a wink.

You shot back with a smirk. “You sure you won’t want to murder me by the end of these few weeks?”

“Oh, probably,” Vic said with an exaggerated sigh. “But you’re my favorite pain in the ass, so I guess it’ll be worth it. Besides, we both know we’d end up getting drinks and complaining about everyone else anyway.”

“Touché.”

Vic showed you around the floor and gave you a better sense of how everyone works day to day and what you would be doing. You weren’t unfamiliar with everything here but being here the next couple of weeks would definitely be different than you were used to. You hadn’t gotten to see Dr. Kim anytime today, only seen him in passing and running from one room to another with Yoongi and another intern in toe. Once you had gotten everything Vic had let you lose to do what you could to help.

“Actually, how about you take this new one first.” Vic opened up a tablet for you which had a chart ready for you, “She’s going to be here for a while.”

You head up the wing as you look over her treatment plan. Stage four liver cancer which has metastasized to her bones and skin. She will be undergoing chemotherapy and radiation and some surgeries to help remove the Mets. She also is in need of around the clock pain management with the spread to her bones. You felt bad reading it, the hardest part about being in this wing is seeing how hard some people have to fight.

You make it to the room and give a light knock before entering. “Good morning.”

“Oh hello!” A woman sitting on the bed awake and engrossed in some crochet project looked at you.

“I’m Y/N, and I’ll be doing your workup today,” you said, entering the room and heading over to her monitor to start updating her chart.

“Oh, by all means. I’m ready!” She set aside her yarn and needles, sitting up straighter with an almost infectious energy that threw you off for a moment. Considering her condition, she seemed remarkably vibrant.

“So Mrs—.” You begin but she cuts you off, with her hand held up to you.

“Ji-eun is fine dear. No need for formality since you’ll see me out of my gown today.” She laughed to herself and you smiled.

“Ji-eun it is.” You give her a soft smile and start getting her vitals and update her chart. “I know you are new with us here but I wanted to start by saying you are in really good hands with Dr. Kim.”

Ji-eun grinned wide, her eyes twinkling. “Can I just say he could totally be a movie star! I couldn’t stop blushing when he walked in this morning. You should’ve seen my poor husband’s face!”

You laughed along, shaking your head. “You’re not the first patient to say that, trust me. Everyone here seems to have a soft spot for Dr. Kim.”

“That younger doctor too. Quiet but so kind.”

“Dr. Min, I just met him today, but I’ve heard good things.” You continued to type some notes into her chart.

"First day, huh?" Ji-eun asked, her eyes curious but warm.

“Not at all! Just new to the floor. I typically jump from specialty to specialty.” You start to do your physical exam of her as you continue to chat.

“Well, I guess we’ll figure all of this out together then,” she said kindly, patting your arm as you continued your physical exam. “The doctors remind me of my boys a little.”

“You have sons?” You ask and continue to examine her.

“Yes, two. Grown men now, but they come to visit me often, whenever I’m in the hospital. You’ll probably meet them soon enough.” She sighs, adjusting her gown as you need to make sure you weren’t seeing any weird discoloration. The most important thing with her condition is the presentation of new spots or jaundice present in her skin.

“I look forward to that,” you smiled. “So I am familiar with your status, Is this your first long stay in the hospital?”

Ji-eun’s face grew thoughtful as she tapped her lips. “Oh, no, no. I’ve had more surgeries than I can count, but this is the first time I’ve stayed this long. The pain’s gotten a bit too much lately—especially with this new tumor in my leg. I just needed more help. My poor husband can only do so much at home.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said sincerely. “But it sounds like you’ve got a lot of support.”

“Oh, I do,” Ji-eun nodded. “My husband’s been by my side for 33 years now, bless his heart. He and the boys will probably pop in this evening.”

“33 years? That’s incredible. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. It’s quite an adventure, let me tell you.” She sighed, you could see her eyeing your hand, looking for a ring. Probably making a mental note about one not being present. “Like I said, they come by in the evenings so you’ll probably meet the whole pack.”

“Shoot I usually work days not evenings.”

“I’ll just have to force them to come at lunch time. My boys work so much but sometimes I can convince them to show up during lunch.”

Ji-eun chatters on for a while while you continue administering her medicine and finish making notes for Dr. Kim. Talking about her husband mostly and some patients she knew at other hospitals. It still surprised you how much energy and how alive she felt compared to others you’ve seen in her condition. You would be surprised if she didn’t beat her cancer in no time with a spirit like that.

“I think I’m all done here,” you said, tucking your tablet under your arm after you take one last glance over your checklist to make sure you got everything.

“Already?” Ji-eun blinked, chewing on her lip. “Gosh, I must’ve chatted your ear off. I think I’m more nervous than I thought.”

“That’s perfectly normal.” You give her a reassuring smile, “I don’t mind the chatter, I’m usually more chatty but it’s my first day full time up here. We can be nervous together.”

Her eyes softened at that. “You know what? I’ll crochet something for you as a ‘welcome to the floor’ gift. It’ll keep me busy.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”

“I insist! It’s my new hobby. Keeps my hands moving while I’m sitting here.”

You smiled, touched by the offer. “Well, in that case, I love stars if you know how to make those.”

“Stars it is,” she said with a wink, already picking out a new yarn color.

You left the room feeling lighter, buoyed by Ji-eun’s positivity. She was the kind of patient that reminded you why you loved this job, the strength and spirit some people carried, even in the toughest of circumstances. You made a mental note to start your day with her room as much as possible. It was the perfect way to lift your own spirits too.

“How’d the first one go champ?” Vic caught you walking up the hall and she saddled right up next to you.

“Easy. She is so wonderful, like a breath of fresh air.” You sigh, “Can I have her as one of mine from now on?”

“By all means.” Vic saw no reason why not.

The day had been surprisingly smooth, and it felt good to finally have some time to catch your breath. You’d spent most of the day moving through rooms and getting a feel for the oncology floor. It was a slower pace compared to your usual shifts in the ER, but you welcomed it. With no major emergencies or immediate crises, you had more time to get to know the patients and the staff.

Dr. Kim had been a blur, practically a ghost for the day, absorbed in surgeries. You’d caught glimpses of him, but nothing more than that. You hoped you’d get a chance to speak with him soon, maybe figure out the best way to sync up with his preferences and routines. It was strange how he could command such attention without even being present. Everyone you spoke to—patients, nurses, and even Yoongi—seemed to speak of him with a kind of reverence.

You got to know Yoongi a little bit once he came by to work on some notes. You could tell that he was like any other surgical resident, eager to cut but he did not have the same energy as other residents you had met previously. Stark difference to the energy of Dr. Kim.

You were sitting for a moment when Vic comes and joins you at the nurses station. It was getting close to the end of your day.

“How was the wedding?” Vic asked as she settled into a chair next to you, she probably had been dying to ask. You had been talking non stop about this wedding for months now you were surprised she wasn't sick of hearing about it.

“It went great. Few hiccups but otherwise couldn’t have been more perfect. I’ll never be a maid of honor again though.” That was probably true, between this job and the months you spent working on everything with Melanie, you were glad it was over.

“Did that guy bother you? What was his name?”

The mention of Jungkook made you pause. Vic was not unfamiliar with the subject of Jungkook, in fact she probably was the next person outside of Melanie and Ash that had gotten an earful about your disdain for him. Except now, you hadn’t really unpacked what had happened between the two of you.

“Yes, Jungkook.” You clear your throat. Swiveling your chair to look at her.

“Yeah, he’s the guy you’ve had issues with for years right?”

“He’s the same old Jungkook.” You say but your tone wasn’t convincing enough for Vic.

She asks. “What no exciting update? No he’s the devil and the next time I see him I’m going to actually rip his throat out? You usually have much more to say than that.”

“Well, he wasn’t so bad this time. Annoying but we did our best. The weekend wasn’t about us.”

You hadn’t really had a chance to unpack the events of the weekend. Mostly, just file it away and never speak about it again. Except your awkward demeanor had not been lost on Vic. You glance at her as she is giving you a confused expression.

“What?” You ask her with an awkward laugh.

“I’m confused. I’ve seen you draw devil horns on pictures of him and crop him out of group photos.” She scratched her head.

You hesitated, keeping your focus on the paperwork in front of you. "He was… fine. I guess," you said, voice tight.

Vic stared at you for a long moment, her suspicion growing. “Fine? Since when is this guy ever just fine?” She let out a dry laugh. “You’ve spent years telling me every little thing he does drives you crazy—how is he suddenly fine?”

You shrugged, forcing a smile. "I don’t know. Maybe I’m over it. People grow up."

Vic’s brow shot up, unconvinced. “Over it? You? You once said you'd rather get a root canal with no anesthesia than spend five minutes with him.”

“He once said I was so annoying that he’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard for an hour than have a conversation with me. So I think the comparison was justified.”

“Not the point. I mean what happened to make you two reconcile so easily?”

“I don’t know. It’s a weekend full of love and people we care about?”

Vic wasn’t letting this go. “Come on. I know you. If nothing happened, you’d be ranting by now, probably calling him a walking disaster or comparing him to a toe fungus again.”

“Well…” You start trying to think of something but coming up short. “We just figured it out.”

“Okay…” Vic’s eyes were on you like a hawk now, watching every subtle reaction. “Let’s say you did get along. That still doesn’t explain why you’re acting so weird about it.” She raised an eyebrow, her voice dipping lower. “Did you guys talk or something? He confess his undying love for you?”

You snort at the absurdity, Jungkook nor you would never have feelings for the other in a million years. “We had a fight. We almost got kicked out so we had to come to an agreement.”

“You know you aren’t as good of a liar as you think you are.” She pokes you in your side and swat her hand away. She leans back in her chair, arms above her head, thinking. You could feel her eyes on you still as you filled out some information on your tablet. “What did you sleep with the guy?”

You paused. You tried not to show any expression but how did she get that so fast? Your silence did not go unnoticed.

Vic’s gaze sharpened as she caught your hesitation. “Oh no... Wait. I was just kidding but… No way.” She stared at you, her voice suddenly full of realization. “You didn’t…”

You get up from your seat taking your tablet with you, getting away from her even though you had no set place you were going. Vic followed very close behind you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Vic let out a disbelieving laugh, her jaw dropping. “This is... I don’t even know what this is. I mean, I knew something was up, but I didn’t expect this.” She paused, leaning in closer, her voice suddenly curious. “So... what happens now? Are you guys, like, cool now?”

You shook your head, pulling her off to the side so you can have this conversation quietly. “No, Vic. It’s not like that. We still—” You stopped, fumbling for the right words. “It didn’t fix anything. We still hate each other.”

Vic blinked, clearly confused. “Then... why did it happen?”

“Honestly, I’m not convinced I hadn’t had a stroke or something. I still don’t really believe it happened.” Which was true, thinking about it felt like it was some insane dream rather than reality.

Vic sat back, still processing what you had just admitted, her expression caught between disbelief and curiosity. “I mean, I knew there was a lot of tension between you two, but… I didn’t think that kind of tension.” She shook her head, still stunned. “So, what? Was it like, some heat-of-the-moment thing? Or was it the alcohol?”

You go ahead and walk her through the events of the night and how you two came to this conclusion. She was completely enraptured in the story. She was laughing at you through most of it. She would never believe something like this would happen to you.

“I’ve met your friend Taehyung, you should never take his advice.”

“Well… It was all heat of the moment I guess.”

Vic shook her head, grinning ear to ear. "Oh, I’m sure! Just a casual weekend of wedding duties, speeches, and—oh, you know—sleeping with your mortal enemy to ‘relieve some tension.’ That’s totally normal."

“Well it’s never happening again.”

“Oh sure that’s what they all say.” She laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulder and the two of you walk up the hall. Both of you glancing into patient rooms to make sure no one is needing anything. “Until the next time you two are in the same room, glaring daggers at each other, and—boom!”

You gave her a look and then burry your head in your hands. "Stop.”

Vic squinted at you, her grin growing wider. "Come on, YN. It sounds like you two finally found a way to stop biting each other’s heads off. Maybe instead of hating each other, you guys just needed a new... hobby?"

“Vic.” You shove her shoulder.

“I mean, what’s next?” she continued, clearly enjoying herself. “You two going to start a book club together? Go bowling on the weekends?"

“Can we let it go?” You sigh frustrated, dying to move on to something else. “I’ve never given you this hard of a time about your choice of partners.”

“Mine are not half as interesting as this.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“I’m getting back to work. It’s still my first day up here after all.” You pretend to be doing something on your tablet. Vic and you both know you were caught up on work but you start walking as quickly as you can ahead of her.

“I’m just saying! This is like a plot straight out of a steamy rom-com.” She calls after you, you spinning on your heels to look at her.

Lifting your head slightly, you shot her a look. “If this was a rom-com, it’d be the worst one ever made. Trust me, there’s no happy ending here.”

With that she leaves you alone, for now. You know this would not be the last time you would be hearing about it. There will be nothing to tell her though, there is no continuation of any of this in the future for you and Jungkook. You never saw the guy hardly ever so it didn’t matter.

You weren’t the only one who had pushed it down to a far place of your mind. Jungkook had found himself back at work this week. Jungkook’s week had been relentless. Since coming back to work after the wedding, it felt like he was buried under a mountain of tasks. As an associate at the law firm, he was used to the pressure, but the past few days had been especially grueling. He was juggling meetings with clients, writing complaints, filing motions, and researching for a high-stakes case. It was enough to make his head spin.

Today was no different. He had barely sat down for lunch, only quick bites between phone calls and endless stacks of documents. His current focus was on one of the senior partners, Mr. Kang, who was preparing for a major trial next week. Being chosen to help him was a big deal, considering Kang was known to be a tough and exacting lawyer. Jungkook had been working late nights, hoping his effort would earn him the partner’s respect and maybe a spot on more of these high-profile cases in the future.

Jungkook had just finished organizing the evidence and compiling a detailed witness list. He had also prepped several key points for Kang’s opening and closing statements, which, to his disappointment, the partner had dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“Here is some of the prep I did for your trial, Mr. Kang,” Jungkook said, placing a thick folder of notes on his boss’s desk.

Kang, a no-nonsense kind of guy with sharp, calculating eyes, barely looked up from the file in front of him. “Good work, Jungkook. I’ll handle the opening and closing. But you’ve done well with the prep. You’re dismissed.”

Jungkook blinked in surprise. Usually, when you did a good job in Kang’s eyes, he’d keep you around for more work, even if it meant staying well into the night. But today, he was letting him go. Jungkook felt a mix of relief and pride as he grabbed his bag from his desk, quietly wondering if the partner had finally acknowledged his hard work.

Just as Jungkook was about to leave the office, Jimin, caught sight of Jungkook's rush.

“You leaving?” Jimin asked, leaning against the doorframe with an eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah, I’ve got plans tonight, and I’m already late,” Jungkook replied, shoving his laptop into his bag with a little more force than necessary. The tension of the day was finally lifting, and the thought of being out of the office and away from the piles of paperwork felt like freedom.

“Mr. Kang actually let you go early?” Jimin raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Man, he must really like you. That guy doesn’t let anyone out this early, especially not if they’ve got a big case coming up.”

“I’m just as surprised as anyone,” Jungkook said with a half-smile, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll take it, though. It’s late enough as is.”

Jimin chuckled. “Yeah, it’s a rarity around here. Have a good night, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungkook gave a quick nod and started walking down the hall, eager to leave the stuffy atmosphere of the office behind. But Jimin called out after him, making Jungkook pause for a moment, glancing back.

“Hey, you still coming out next week, right?” Jimin asked. “I already got you a ticket.”

Jungkook hesitated for a split second, then smirked. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” he called back, waving as he walked toward the elevator. “See you.”

As the doors closed behind him and the elevator descended, Jungkook took a deep breath. The tension of the office was still heavy on his shoulders, but the thought of a night out with Jimin and some friends gave him a bit of lightness. He was long overdue for a chance to unwind. After the wedding and the work this last week, he was burnt out.

Stepping outside, the crisp evening air hit his face. It wasn’t too cold, but the cool breeze was a welcome contrast to the stale office air he’d been trapped in all day. The city felt alive around him, the hum of cars and distant chatter of pedestrians making him feel momentarily free from the piles of work waiting for him the next day. Jungkook checked the time, 8:06.

Jungkook took the opportunity to just listen to some music and walk to a convenience store he knew was nearby. His brother was texting about something and he hadn’t had a chance to answer all day. He needed a moment of peace for himself before he needed to get going. He knew exactly what snacks he wanted to get, and maybe a ramen bowl for when he gets home later. Jungkook grabbed some water bottles from the fridge and turned to go to the snacks. Almost slamming into someone else coming around the aisle corner.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you stammered, stepping back to avoid the near collision. Your eyes darted up, and surprise flooded your face when you saw who it was.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asked, surprised to see you. Especially not in a convenience store he frequented so often.

“Oh.” You were feeling a similar feeling, this was the convenience store closest to your place. “What are you doing here?”

He pulled one earbud out, his mind still processing the unexpected run-in. “I, uh, my firm’s just across the street.” He gestured vaguely behind him with the water bottle, realizing how lame that sounded. “I come here sometimes after work.”

You shifted the snacks in your arms, and Jungkook couldn’t help but notice how you seemed just as off-balance as he was. “I live right around the corner.” You said, filling the silence, your voice calm but your eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh.” Jungkook mouth hung in an ‘o’ shape. Jungkook had no idea you lived over here, maybe could have found a different place to go if he had known you come here. “What are the snacks for?”

“Uhh, Ash is coming over.”

“Cool.” Jungkook paused, he really had no idea what to say. “Tell her I said hi I guess.”

“Yeah.”

You let the awkward silence hang between the both of you for a moment before you decided to brush past him. You had nothing to say to him really so you should just go about your business. It felt strange, you just talked about him today and now here he was. This last week has been the most you had seen him in years. You get a drink from the fridges, you eyes a little too focused on if you spot Jungkook in your peripherals.

Jungkook just continued on his way and got a few snacks and the ramen bowl he wanted. Making his way to the counter where he lined up behind you. You knew he was behind you but said nothing as you paid for your items. Jungkook felt like maybe he should say something but what was lost of on. He hadn’t really thought about the wedding and what transpired at all but now it was at the front of his mind. Should he bring it up? Leave it alone? Would probably just cause a fight.

You got the bags with your stuff step outside. A little shaken by the encounter, you fumble with your stuff making sure you get your keys out when Jungkook follows too soon out of the convenience store. You both look at each other simultaneously, both silent.

You shuffled your stuff in your hands, unsure if you should say anything, but Jungkook beat you to it. “Do you need walked home? It's pretty dark.” His offer caught you off guard.

“Uh, I’m okay,” you said after a pause, glancing down the street. “It’s really close by.” You pointed behind you, in the general direction of your apartment, hoping that would end the conversation.

“I uhh…” He cleared his throat. “I also need to head that way to my car.”

Of course he does, you thought.

So you nod and just start walking. Jungkook comes up close to the next of you. He felt weird trailing behind but this also feels just as weird and uncomfortable. He was standing as close as he could to the edge of the sidewalk without stepping into the street. You almost instinctively kept your arms closely tucked to your sides. The walk to your place really wasn’t that far but it felt like an eternity now.

What were you supposed to say in a situation like this?

“You work at a law firm?” The question erupted out of you.

“Yeah?”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I just… I don’t know. I never pegged you as a lawyer.” Which was true, you never knew he went to law school. To be fair you didn’t care what Jungkook did at all most of the time.

“I changed my mind I guess.” Jungkook shrugged. He didn’t know what to say to that. The last time you really knew each other, back in college, he hadn’t planned on law school yet.

That was a decision that came later.

Silence fell between the two of you again. It got Jungkook thinking, thinking about what happened between the two of you. He didn’t feel guilty but he felt like maybe it needed to be brought up.

Jungkook sighed, “So, about last week…”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” You cut him off with a bitter tone, harsher than you had intended.

“And what if I wanted too?” Jungkook bit back, all too harsh.

“You do?” You glance at him, and he seems to be genuine. “Oh you do.” You retreat back into yourself and feel somewhat bad now, not realizing that maybe he would like to talk about it.

Something in him did want to talk about it, it wasn’t how he normally acted and he’s been under so much stress lately. Maybe it would feel good to talk it out?

“I was just going to ask if you were okay,” he continued, keeping his tone softer. His thoughts churned, wondering if you’d even believe him, if you’d think this was just some routine apology or him trying to cover his tracks. “And to say, I don’t usually do stuff like that. You might think otherwise, but that’s not who I am.” The words felt heavier than he’d intended, but they were true.

He glanced at you, searching for something in your expression, anything to tell him how you were really feeling. All he found was that guarded look he’d seen so many times before—the one that kept him at a distance.

“I’m honestly too busy for hookups,” he added, a bitter chuckle escaping him, “so it surprised me more than anyone. So I just wanted to ask if you were okay and get that off my chest I guess.”

You were silent, you actually look at his face now, he seemed to be serious? Sincere? You felt like crawling out of your skin because he was being so real. It was weird, and clearly your face was telling Jungkook the same thing. Your expression looked uncomfortable and confused.

“What?” he asked and raised an eyebrow to you.

“You’re just being so… considerate,” you said, shivering in your spot. “I’m so uncomfortable right now.”

Jungkook almost laughed, but it came out as more of a sigh. He wasn’t used to this either, wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable, and certainly not with you. But for some reason, it mattered more to him than it should. “Well, you can think whatever you like, I guess. I just wanted to get that out.” He tried to shrug it off, but the weight of the moment hung between you, making it impossible to dismiss.

“Well…” You start, “I’m not thinking anything. If I’m being honest it’s not really me either and it felt really weird for me. I’m okay though but I would like to pretend it never happened. Umm… are you okay?”

Jungkook paused, “Yeah this is really weird.” He let out a small laugh, “I am okay and I also want to pretend it never happened.” Jungkook felt like he lifted a small weight he didn’t even know was on his shoulders.

“Great. Now stop being so nice asshole, it’s freaking me out.” You glance and you had arrived to your building so quickly and you couldn’t be more thankful you couldn't take this awkwardness any longer. “This is me.” You point to the building next to you.

“Nice.” Jungkook said it but it was more like he had no idea how to respond. Your building was right next to the parking garage he used for his car. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight.” You basically scurried up the steps and let yourself into the front door as fast as you could. You felt like you needed a shower to get Jungkook words out of your head. It felt so wrong, he was so nice and considerate about it.

It would have been easier if Jungkook was a dick about the whole thing.

Jungkook made sure you got in okay and then started his way to the parking garage to his car. He felt better but also so strange. Maybe he would have felt better if you two had made a whole scene. It was so weird being so... mature. Before Jungkook could think too much on it, his phone was buzzing in his pocket.

The words ‘Mom’ were written across the screen, and he answered.

“Hi Mom.” Jungkook barely got any words out before the other line erupted with sound.

“Jeon Jungkook I cannot believe you are late! We have been waiting for you to arrive all evening and you are nowhere to be found!”

“I’m coming mom, just barely got off of work. I am on my way now.” he started to scurry because even though she was yelling at him now, he won’t hear the end of it in person.

Maybe he should have been paying closer attention to his texts.

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @smoljjks 。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

a/n: Honestly a touch worried about this chapter (not that it’s bad but just because like it the first step into the main story so the vibe is slightly different?? I hope everyone enjoys it 🩵😭

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ijustwannabecool · 3 days ago

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Somewhere Only We Know - Part 1

Lando Norris x Reader

Based upon this request:

Hi!!! First of all, I love love loooove your stories. I don't know if you're open to writing for Lando. Just wanted to maybe suggest this: we all know he's spiraling at the moment, maybe someone who he meets and steadies him? I know he has that typical athlete fboy image. But maybe someone who he changes for and really helps him mentally as well. Seeing that change from an outside perspective from people in F1 or fans would be pretty cool. Just a thought that popped up! Thanks! Will be anxiously waiting for your next uploads!

Summary... He wasn’t looking for anything when he found you — just a diner, a coffee, a moment to breathe — but somehow you became everything. This is the story of how he fell, how you stayed, and how together you built something louder than the noise trying to tear you apart.

A/N: I hope this story does justice to your request! I wrote it like a book, so it has chapters within the story. Also, the story was so long that I had to split it into two parts because Tumblr would not allow me to post it. I had such a blast writing it, and I hope you all have just as much fun reading it. As always, thank you so much for being here, for supporting these little worlds we create, and for sharing your love with the characters too.

Happy reading, and have a beautiful day today!! 🖤✨

If you enjoyed the story and feel like supporting my writing, you can donate a strawberry matcha through my Ko-fi! 🍓🍵 (No pressure at all — your kindness is already everything.)

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy (:

Chapter 1: Quiet Places

The hotel room was suffocating. Walls too close, lights too harsh, the buzzing in his head louder than anything outside.

Lando sat on the edge of the bed, hoodie half-pulled over his head, staring at the carpet like it might offer answers. His phone buzzed once. Then again. Group chats. Team messages. Notifications about another headline he didn’t want to read.

Partying again. Lando Norris spotted leaving club at 3 AM. Is McLaren’s golden boy losing focus?

He scrubbed a hand over his face, jaw tight. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t entirely true. It didn’t matter how lonely the nights felt after race weekends that didn’t go the way they were supposed to. It didn’t matter that sometimes the noise in his head got so loud, he just needed somewhere — anywhere — to drown it out.

Tonight, even the noise couldn’t fix it.

His chest felt tight. His breathing shallow. I need air.

Without thinking, Lando grabbed his room key, shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, pulled his hoodie tighter around him, and slipped out into the night.

—

The city hummed in a way hotels never could. A low, steady thrum of life: streetlights blinking through misty air, taxis splashing through puddles, people moving in and out of places he didn’t know. It was cold — not winter cold, but enough to bite at his fingers.

He walked without a destination. Past neon-lit bars, past groups laughing too loud, past windows that showed lives he didn’t belong to. His sneakers splashed through a puddle, and he didn’t even care.

Just keep walking. Maybe if he kept walking, the buzzing in his brain would go quiet.

It didn’t.

Not until he saw it.

A diner. Tiny. Wedged between two dark shops, almost hidden except for a flickering OPEN sign that fought to stay alive against the night.

Above the door, in faded, curling blue paint, a small sign read: The Bluebird Diner.

There was even a little bluebird painted near the handle — tiny and easy to miss, but somehow it caught his eye.

Inside, the air smelled like coffee and pancakes. Warm. Safe. Real.

He tugged his hoodie lower over his forehead and pushed the door open, the bell above it giving a sad little jingle.

He slid into the booth furthest from the windows, shoulders hunched, head low. Just a guy looking to be left alone. He pulled out his phone out of habit, but the screen glare felt too bright. He turned it face-down on the table.

That’s when he noticed her.

Sitting alone at the counter, a few stools down, a girl — about his age maybe — stirring her coffee absentmindedly with a spoon. A book sat open in front of her, its pages stained and loved. She didn’t look up when the door jingled. Didn’t stare. Didn’t gasp. Didn’t even seem to care.

For once, someone wasn’t looking at him like him.

It was... strange. And weirdly grounding.

He stared at the laminated menu without reading a word, mind drifting somewhere fuzzier, quieter.

Until—

"You look like you lost a fight with a thunderstorm."

The voice came from the counter. Light. Almost teasing.

Lando blinked, looking up slowly. The girl — the stranger — was smiling at him, just a little. Not mocking. Just... seeing.

He coughed awkwardly, dragging a hand over his jaw. "Something like that," he muttered.

She nodded like she understood. Like she wasn’t going to ask for details.

"You want coffee?" she offered, tilting her mug slightly like a peace treaty. "It's terrible, but it’s hot."

A laugh — real, cracked around the edges — escaped him before he could stop it. The first laugh in what felt like forever.

He shook his head, smiling under his hoodie. "Sure. Why not."

The girl slid off her stool with a soft scrape of leather boots against tile. She crossed the diner in slow, unhurried steps, refilling her coffee mug behind the counter before grabbing a second chipped white cup for him.

No one else was there. No waitress in sight. Just the jukebox playing something old and sad, the rain starting to splatter softly against the windows, and her — a small anchor in a world that felt like it was spinning too fast.

She set the cup down in front of him without ceremony.

"No judgment," she said lightly, curling into the opposite booth seat without being invited. "Just company."

Lando blinked at her again, unsure whether to laugh, thank her, or pull his hoodie lower. Instead, he mumbled, "You always hand out coffee to sad strangers?"

She grinned into her mug. "Only the ones who look like they need it more than me."

A silence stretched between them — but not uncomfortable. A soft kind of silence. The kind that lets you breathe without pretending.

"I’m L—" He caught himself. Old habit.

She arched a brow, playful. "Let me guess. Lucas? Logan? Liam?"

He huffed a laugh, ducking his head. "Something like that."

She didn’t push. Didn’t pry. Just sipped her coffee like it didn’t matter.

"You don’t have to tell me," she shrugged. "You can be whoever you want here. Pretty sure that's the whole point of a place like this."

He stared at her for a beat longer than he meant to. Whoever you want to be. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone gave him that option.

The neon sign buzzed faintly behind her, casting a golden halo around her hair. She looked real. Solid. Untouched by the headlines and chaos he lived in.

"You from around here?" he asked finally, voice scratchy.

She shook her head, setting her cup down. "Passing through. Like you, I guess."

He wondered if she was running from something too.

Outside, a car whooshed by, sending spray across the pavement. The rain came harder now, drumming against the windows like a heartbeat.

The girl glanced at him again — really looked this time — and her smile softened into something quieter. More knowing.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong," she said. "But if you want to — I’m a good listener. World's worst advice giver, though."

He barked a short, broken laugh.

"Good," he said, cracking a ghost of a smile. "I'm not looking for advice."

She leaned back in the booth, tucking one knee up against the vinyl seat.

"Then we’re a perfect match," she said, toasting him with her mug.

Lando watched her for a long moment. The way she didn’t push. The way she didn’t want anything from him. The way she offered nothing more complicated than a crappy cup of coffee and a seat across from her.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed that.

He wrapped his hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into his cold fingers. His hoodie still shadowed his face, but for the first time in days, maybe weeks, he didn't feel the need to hide.

Not from her.

Not here.

At The Bluebird Diner.

Somewhere between the broken race weekends and the headlines he couldn't outrun, Lando Norris started to breathe again. And it started with a stranger who never asked for his name.

———

Chapter 2: Rain Between Us

The coffee was terrible. Burnt, watery, exactly what you’d expect from a diner fighting to survive the 2 a.m. quiet. But somehow, with her sitting across from him, it tasted like the best thing he'd had in weeks.

He took a sip, grimaced, and set the cup down. She laughed under her breath, hiding it behind her own mug.

"Told you," she said, voice warm with amusement.

"You weren't kidding," Lando muttered, tapping a finger against the chipped rim.

The jukebox crooned something old and broken-hearted, a perfect soundtrack for the flickering neon, the rain outside, the shared silence stretching between them.

"So," she said after a moment, stirring her coffee like she wasn't even drinking it, "Mysterious Almost-Lucas. You just wandering, or are you running?"

The question was soft. Not a trap. He could lie if he wanted. Hell, he could get up and leave and she wouldn’t chase him.

Still — he found himself shrugging, the truth spilling out without much thought.

"Little bit of both," he said, voice rough.

She nodded like she understood. Like she'd been there too.

"Sometimes you have to get a little lost," she mused, tracing the edge of her mug with a fingertip, "before you figure out where you're supposed to be."

Lando watched her. The way she spoke without pretending she had all the answers. The way she sat like she belonged to no one and nowhere, perfectly at peace with it.

"You some kind of fortune cookie in disguise?" he asked, a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth.

She grinned, playful. "Nah. I just read too much."

She tapped the battered paperback lying abandoned beside her coffee.

He squinted at the title, smirking when he caught it: The Art of Getting Lost.

"Seriously?" he asked, incredulous.

She just shrugged, her smile easy and unapologetic. "Like I said," she teased, "perfect match."

Time blurred inside the diner. Minutes folding into each other until the rain outside turned from a light patter to a steady downpour. Neither of them moved to leave.

It wasn’t until a particularly loud crack of thunder rattled the windows that she glanced at the clock and sighed.

"I should probably get going," she said, sliding off the booth seat reluctantly. "Before I turn into a pumpkin or whatever tragic fairytale ending is waiting for me out there."

Lando found himself standing too, his legs stiff from sitting so long. The diner felt too big all of a sudden. Too empty without her in it.

"Where you headed?" he asked before he could stop himself.

She shrugged, slipping on a worn denim jacket. "Couple blocks over. Motel with questionable sheets and even worse cable."

A part of him — the reckless part — wanted to offer to walk her there. The smarter part knew how dangerous that could sound.

She must've seen the hesitation flicker across his face, because she tilted her head, grinning.

"You can walk me to the corner if you want," she said lightly. "I promise not to scream stranger danger."

He laughed — a real, full laugh this time — and shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

"Deal."

—

The rain was cold, soaking into the edges of his sneakers almost immediately, but he didn’t care. They walked close but not touching, their shoulders almost brushing every few steps.

She didn’t pull out her phone. Didn’t rush. Just let the night wrap around them like a secret.

"This your thing?" he asked after a beat, pulling his hood tighter. "Late-night diners? Making sad strangers feel less sad?"

She smiled up at him, rain catching in her eyelashes. "Maybe," she said. "But only the ones who look like they might forget how to come back to themselves."

He looked at her — really looked — and felt something unfamiliar twist low in his chest.

Hope.

It scared him a little.

At the corner, under the orange glow of a flickering streetlight, she stopped and turned to him.

"This is me," she said, nodding toward the dim outline of a motel a few blocks down.

He nodded, unsure what to say.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then, impulsively, she dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out a pen — the kind hotels leave on bedside tables — and grabbed his hand.

Before he could react, she scribbled something across his wrist.

A number. A name.

Y/N.

She capped the pen with a snap and smiled, a little mischievous.

"In case you get lost again," she said. "You know where to find me."

And then — before he could say anything — she winked, turned, and disappeared into the rain.

Leaving Lando standing there, heart thudding in his ribs, staring down at the ink bleeding slowly into his skin.

Somewhere between the cold rain and the bitter coffee, he realized: Maybe getting lost wasn’t always a bad thing.

Not if it brought you to someone like her.

Not if it brought you to the Bluebird Diner.

———

Chapter 3: A Rainy Day

The hotel room smelled like cold coffee and regret. The kind of night that clung to your skin even after you showered, the kind that weighed heavy behind your ribs.

Lando sat at the small desk by the window, hoodie still damp from the rain, staring at the smudged ink on the inside of his wrist.

Y/N. A string of numbers trailing after it.

The rain dripped down the glass in slow, tired patterns. The city blinked below, indifferent to the people trying to survive it.

He grabbed a notepad — the kind every hotel left on the nightstand — and carefully, almost reverently, copied the number down. His pen hovered for a second.

Save it in your phone, his mind whispered. Text her. Call her. Do something.

But his heart was a mess. He wasn’t ready. Not yet.

Instead, he tore the paper free, folded it in half, and slipped it into the back of his phone case — tucked safe behind the transparent plastic like a secret. A promise he wasn’t brave enough to cash in yet.

"For a rainy day," he muttered to himself, voice rough.

He set his phone down screen-side up, hiding the paper from view, and collapsed back onto the bed.

Outside, the rain kept falling. Inside, for the first time in a long time, Lando Norris let himself hope there might be more than headlines waiting for him. Someday.

—

Two Weeks Later

The world didn’t stop spinning just because he wanted it to. It kept roaring forward — race after race, city after city, good days and bad days bleeding into each other until he barely remembered where he was half the time.

The wins were loud. The losses were louder. And somewhere in between — when the engines went silent and the hotel rooms got too big — he thought of her.

The girl at the Bluebird Diner. The one who handed him terrible coffee and a better kind of silence. The one who smiled at him like he was a person, not a headline.

Sometimes he caught himself scanning crowds, stupidly, looking for a flash of her denim jacket or the soft curve of her smile. Sometimes he dreamed of rainy streets and cracked vinyl booths.

He hadn’t pulled the paper out. Not yet.

He kept telling himself he was too busy. Too tired. Too much of a mess.

But late at night, when sleep wouldn’t come and the weight of everything pressed heavy against his chest, he found himself reaching for his phone, fingers hesitating over the case.

One night — after a brutal race weekend where nothing had gone right — he gave in.

He peeled the phone case back slowly, like uncovering something sacred.

The paper was still there. Crumpled a little. Still holding her number like a lifeline.

His heart thudded against his ribs as he stared at it.

Now or never.

He opened a blank message, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

Paused.

Deleted it.

Started again.

Lando: Hey. Not sure if you remember me. Coffee at 2AM. Bluebird Diner. Bad jokes, worse coffee. I’ve been carrying your number around like a fool. Mind if I cash it in?

He hit send before he could lose his nerve.

Set the phone face-down on the bed like it was going to explode.

Paced the room. Ran a hand through his hair. Cursed under his breath.

It buzzed five minutes later.

He stared at it, heart in his throat.

Y/N: Hard to forget someone who made bad coffee taste better. Where to?

He smiled. Really smiled. The kind that cracked him open a little and let the light seep in.

Maybe getting lost wasn’t the end of the world after all.

Maybe it was just the start of something better.

———

Chapter 4: After Hours

He didn’t know what he expected.

Maybe that she wouldn’t show. Maybe that he would chicken out and turn back at the door.

Instead, he found himself standing in front of a narrow storefront tucked between a closed tailor shop and a boarded-up art studio. The only light came from a cracked neon sign above the door: Ink & Ivy.

Inside, warm golden light spilled over books stacked in messy piles, fairy lights strung haphazardly across the ceiling. It smelled like old paper and rain-soaked wood.

And there she was. Curled up on a worn armchair in the corner, thumbing through a battered novel, a soft, unreadable smile tugging at her mouth.

Y/N.

Something in his chest unclenched just seeing her.

She looked up when the door chimed, smile widening when she saw him.

"You made it," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Lando shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pockets. "Had to," he said, voice rough from nerves. "Owed you a coffee, remember?"

She grinned and stood, sliding a bookmark into the pages before tucking the novel under her arm.

"You're in luck," she said. "They make a mean hot chocolate here. Coffee's still crap, though."

He laughed, following her deeper into the shop, past shelves that leaned under the weight of forgotten stories.

There was a tiny counter at the back — barely big enough for a cash register and an old espresso machine. No other customers. Just the two of them and the endless hum of rainy-night quiet.

Y/N ordered two hot chocolates without asking what he wanted.

He didn’t mind.

It felt... good. Being led for once instead of leading.

They settled at a small table by the window, mugs steaming between them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t heavy. It was just... them.

Finally, she broke the silence.

"So," she said, stirring her drink, "did you find yourself yet?"

He smiled, a little crooked. "Working on it."

She nodded like she approved.

"I think that's the trick," she said thoughtfully, tracing the rim of her mug with a fingertip. "You don't just wake up one day and have all the answers. You kind of... stumble into them. Trip over them. Sometimes they show up in crappy coffee at 2AM."

He laughed, shaking his head. "You and your fortune cookie wisdom."

She tilted her head, pretending to think.

"Maybe I'm just psychic," she teased. "Or maybe I'm really good at pretending everything's fine."

He looked at her — really looked — and felt something tighten low in his chest.

There were shadows under her words. A mirror of his own. It made him want to know every story she kept hidden behind that easy smile.

"You don't have to pretend with me," he said before he could think better of it.

Her eyes softened, the kind of look that made you feel seen without saying anything.

"Neither do you," she whispered.

The rain outside blurred the city into watercolor smears of light and shadow. Inside, the world shrank down to just two people and a thousand unsaid things hanging between them.

He should’ve been scared of it. Of what it meant. Of what it could mean.

But sitting there — with a chipped mug warming his hands and her quiet presence filling all the empty spaces inside him — Lando thought maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be afraid.

Not tonight.

Not with her.

———

Chapter 5: Paper Moons

They stayed in the bookstore until the owner flipped the sign to "Closed" and politely pretended not to notice them still tucked into the corner.

Lando couldn't remember the last time he lost track of time without the roar of an engine or a schedule ticking in the back of his mind.

She made it too easy.

They talked about everything and nothing:

Their favorite childhood cartoons. The worst books they were forced to read in school. How pineapple absolutely does belong on pizza (her opinion) and how it absolutely does not (his).

At one point, while thumbing through a stack of battered travel guides, she glanced up at him, mischievous.

"So what is it you do, exactly?" she asked, tilting her head. "Professional traveler? Pizza connoisseur? World’s slowest book club president?"

Lando laughed, shoving a hand through his messy hair.

"Something like that," he said, half-truthful.

She narrowed her eyes, playful. "Mysterious again, I see."

"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you," he said, half under his breath.

She grinned. "Try me. My bet's still on undercover barista."

He laughed again — a real one, deep and rough and unfiltered. God, when was the last time he laughed like this without feeling like he had to perform it?

"I drive," he said finally, shrugging like it wasn’t a whole world. "A lot."

She arched a brow. "Like... truck driver? Racecar driver? Food deliveries?"

He barked another laugh, shaking his head.

"One of those," he said.

She studied him for a beat — not with suspicion, but with something lighter. Curiosity. Amusement.

Then she shrugged like it didn’t really matter.

"Well, I hope you're a better driver than you are a coffee drinker," she teased, bumping her shoulder against his as she passed by to the next shelf.

He smiled to himself, warmth blooming quietly in his chest.

She didn’t press. She didn’t treat him like a puzzle to solve. She just... accepted the pieces he offered and kept walking.

It felt like breathing again after years of holding his breath.

—

Later, they sat cross-legged in the aisle between "Travel" and "Mystery," flipping through a book of weird world records.

"Did you know," she said, tapping a finger against the page, "someone once stacked 500 doughnuts into a tower and balanced it on their forehead?"

Lando snorted. "New life goal."

She laughed, tossing a crumpled receipt at him. It bounced off his hoodie and landed in his lap.

He picked it up, pretended to examine it.

"Is this your phone number?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "No. It’s the bill for your terrible jokes."

He grinned — wide and boyish and unguarded.

For a moment, he let himself forget the cameras, the headlines, the pressure. For a moment, he was just a boy in a bookstore, sitting next to a girl who didn’t need anything from him except what he was willing to give.

And for the first time in a long time — he wanted to give it.

———

Chapter 6: In Between Places

They never made official plans. No "meet me at 8" texts. No set routines.

They just… drifted back into each other’s lives, night after night, like gravity pulling them in without asking permission.

—

One night:

They ended up back at the Bluebird Diner, squeezed into a booth so worn it sagged in the middle. A plate of soggy fries between them. A crumpled napkin-turned-scorecard as they argued over the dumbest trivia questions pulled from a beat-up game box the diner kept behind the counter.

"Name three countries that start with 'Z'!" Y/N demanded, pointing a fry at him like a sword.

"Zimbabwe, Zambia—" Lando started confidently, then paused, face scrunching.

Y/N leaned in, grinning wide. "Clock's ticking, racer boy."

He slapped the table dramatically. "There’s not a third one! That’s cheating!"

"Zanzibar," she said smugly, popping a fry into her mouth.

"That’s not a country!" he protested, laughing so hard he nearly knocked over his drink.

She shrugged innocently. "Maybe if you traveled more, you'd know."

He choked on a laugh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Unbelievable. First you bully my coffee skills, now my geography."

She grinned and kicked him lightly under the table. "And you love it."

He couldn’t even deny it.

—

Another night:

They sat side-by-side on the hood of his car, parked on the edge of the city where the skyline blurred into open sky.

A half-eaten bag of gummy bears between them. A terrible playlist of early 2000s pop songs humming from the car speakers.

Y/N leaned back on her hands, head tilted toward the stars.

"Sometimes," she said softly, voice nearly lost in the night air, "I feel like I’m just... floating through life. Like I missed the turn somewhere but I’m too scared to go back."

Lando turned his head, watching her instead of the stars.

"I get that," he said, voice low. "I feel like that a lot too."

She glanced at him, surprised. He just shrugged, plucking a gummy bear from the bag and tossing it in the air before catching it in his mouth.

"You're not the only lost cause around here," he said, grinning crookedly.

She smiled — a real one, fragile around the edges.

And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel so alone in the floating.

—

Sometimes:

They didn’t talk at all.

They just wandered through late-night bookstores, or old record shops that stayed open too late for no reason, or abandoned playgrounds where the swings creaked in the wind.

Sometimes Y/N would tell him about the cities she wanted to see but never had the money to visit.

Sometimes Lando would tell her stories about places he’d been — twisting them into ridiculous adventures just to make her laugh.

He left out the race tracks. The fame. The noise.

It wasn’t lying. Not really.

It was protecting something he wasn’t ready to lose.

Not yet.

—

One night:

Sitting on a swingset at some forgotten park, boots dragging lazy lines in the sand, Y/N turned to him with a thoughtful look.

"You know," she said, nudging his shoulder with hers, "you’re not half as mysterious as you think you are."

He raised a brow, grinning. "Yeah?"

She nodded sagely. "You’re just a guy who’s a little lost, a little tired, and way too competitive about trivia games."

He laughed, the sound bubbling out of him before he could stop it.

"Maybe," he said, kicking at the sand. "And you’re just a girl who’s smarter than she lets on and drinks way too much terrible coffee."

She gasped mock-offended. "I tolerate terrible coffee. There’s a difference."

He shook his head, smiling at her like she hung the stars.

And maybe, just maybe, she did.

Little by little, the walls between them cracked.

Little by little, they learned each other’s rhythms.

Little by little, two lost souls stopped floating alone.

And neither of them even realized it was happening — not until it was too late to turn back.

———

Chapter 7: Cracks in the Armor

The night had fallen into one of their easy silences.

Sitting on the swings again, bundled in too-thin jackets, hot drinks warming their hands, they watched the city breathe around them.

Somewhere far away, a siren wailed. Closer, the breeze whispered through the trees, tugging at Y/N’s hair.

"You ever think about just... leaving?" she asked, her voice soft and faraway. "Packing up and disappearing somewhere no one knows you?"

Lando stared at the dark sky.

"All the time," he said quietly.

She glanced at him, catching the rawness in his voice.

"You could," she said gently. "If you wanted to."

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"It’s harder than it sounds," he admitted. "When the world... expects things from you."

She nodded slowly, sipping her drink.

"You don’t owe the world anything," she said simply.

The words hit harder than he expected.

Like maybe — just maybe — she meant them.

He fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie, debating.

Then — impulsively, stupidly — he said:

"I travel for work. A lot. Different countries every week sometimes. Cameras, interviews... noise."

He didn’t look at her when he said it. Couldn’t.

The air shifted between them. Not colder. Not tenser. Just... aware.

Y/N set her drink down carefully in the sand between them.

"You a rockstar or something?" she teased lightly, trying to keep the moment easy.

Lando huffed a laugh. "Not exactly."

She bumped his shoulder with hers, playful.

"Secret agent?"

He smiled a little, finally looking at her.

"Something like that."

Y/N studied him for a beat, the city lights flickering in her eyes.

She could have asked. She could have pushed.

Instead, she just shrugged, easy and sure.

"Whatever it is," she said, picking her drink back up, "you’re still the guy who sucks at trivia and drinks hot chocolate like it’s a competitive sport."

He stared at her, something hot and unfamiliar swelling in his chest.

"You’re not curious?" he asked, surprised.

"Oh, I’m curious," she said, grinning. "But... I figure if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me."

Simple. No pressure. No performance.

Just a choice — left in his hands.

For the first time in a long, long time, Lando felt like he wasn’t being cornered into being someone.

He could just be.

And maybe — Maybe that was the whole point of her.

A lighthouse when the rest of the world just wanted to watch him drown.

—

Later, as they walked back toward the car, Y/N kicked a rock along the sidewalk, hands stuffed deep into her pockets.

"You know," she said casually, not looking at him, "you’re kinda like a bluebird."

He blinked, thrown.

"A what?"

She shrugged, smiling faintly. "You show up when people need hope the most. You just... don’t know it yet."

Lando stopped walking.

Just stared at her.

The Bluebird Diner. The paper tucked behind his phone case. The way she made him feel like he was finding pieces of himself he thought he lost.

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head.

"You’re wrong," he said, voice rough.

She arched a brow. "Oh?"

He smiled — wide, real, and a little sad.

"I think you’re the bluebird."

She blushed, looking away, pretending to be annoyed.

"Great. Now I sound like a Disney character."

He laughed again, bumping her shoulder lightly.

But deep down — he knew he meant it.

Even if she didn’t understand yet, even if he couldn’t say it properly

She was his bluebird. And he was already terrified of losing her.

———

Chapter 8: The Fast Lane

It started with a text.

Lando: You busy tomorrow?

Y/N: Define "busy."

Lando: I know a place. Not far. Not fancy. Bring sneakers.

Y/N: ...You’re not going to murder me, right?

Lando: 50/50.

She sent back a laughing emoji, and he smiled at his screen for a solid minute before remembering he was supposed to be cool about this.

He wasn’t.

Not even a little.

—

The next afternoon was gray and crisp — a rare stretch of calm between rainstorms — when he picked her up.

No fancy cars. No entourage.

Just a beat-up old black SUV he borrowed from a friend because it didn’t scream his name at every intersection.

Y/N climbed in, wrinkling her nose playfully at the state of the floorboards.

"Should I be concerned about tetanus?" she teased, buckling in.

Lando grinned, heart kicking against his ribs.

"Only if you plan on licking the gearshift," he shot back.

She laughed — easy, bright — and he felt the knot in his chest loosen.

This was why he wanted her here. Because with her, everything felt... lighter.

They pulled up to a private karting track just outside the city.

Quiet. Empty except for a few staff members and a handful of guys milling around near the pit lane, helmets tucked under their arms.

Lando killed the engine and rubbed his palms against his jeans.

"Okay," he said, turning to her. "Don't freak out."

She raised a brow. "Should I be freaking out?"

He shrugged, trying to play it off. "I might have a bit of a reputation around here."

Y/N smirked. "Lemme guess. World's Slowest Kart Driver."

He barked a laugh, nerves unraveling a little.

"Something like that," he said, climbing out.

She followed, looking around curiously.

The place was small — nothing glitzy — but even she could tell it wasn’t some random rental track. It was built for serious drivers. The kind who lived and breathed competition.

A tall guy with a messy head of curls jogged over, clapping Lando on the back.

"Mate, finally!" he said, grinning. "And you brought a friend."

His eyes flicked to Y/N, friendly but curious.

"Max, this is Y/N," Lando said casually. "Y/N, Max."

She smiled easily, sticking out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

Max shot Lando a quick look — the kind that said we’re going to talk about this later — but just shook her hand and winked.

"Good luck surviving him on the track," Max said to her with mock seriousness.

Y/N snorted. "Oh, please. I can handle him."

Lando raised a brow. "Big talk for someone who’s never seen me drive."

She just grinned, all innocent. "Big ego for someone who needed a second coffee to beat me at trivia."

Max laughed outright, slinging an arm around Lando’s shoulder. "I like her," he said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

Lando flushed — actual, real color flooding his cheeks — and shrugged him off, muttering, "Piss off," under his breath.

Y/N watched the exchange, a knowing smile tugging at her mouth.

She didn’t say anything.

But she saw it — the way Lando relaxed around these people. The way he lit up.

The way they lit up seeing him like this.

They geared up quickly — helmets, gloves, coveralls.

Y/N struggled with the zipper on her suit, muttering curses under her breath, and Lando doubled over laughing.

"Shut up!" she yelled, trying to wrangle the stubborn metal tab.

He was still chuckling when he came over and helped her, fingers brushing her wrist.

A tiny touch.

A stupid, electric jolt straight to his ribs.

He pretended not to notice.

She pretended not to blush.

Neither of them said a word about it.

On the track, she was... terrible.

Absolutely, gloriously terrible.

She stalled twice, took corners like a drunken giraffe, and very nearly spun herself into the grass on lap three.

But when she pulled into the pit lane, yanking her helmet off with a huge grin, Lando swore he’d never seen anyone look more beautiful.

"I almost died!" she announced proudly.

"You almost killed me," he corrected, laughing.

She shrugged, unbothered. "Minor details."

He looked at her — flushed cheeks, wild hair, laughing eyes — and thought:

This. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

Later, sitting on the pit wall swinging their legs like kids, they shared a bottle of lukewarm water and watched the sky turn pink with sunset.

Max and the others were off somewhere, giving them space without saying they were giving them space.

"You’re... good at this," Y/N said, nodding toward the track.

Lando shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter. "Been doing it a while."

She sipped the water, thinking.

"Not just good," she said thoughtfully. "You look... happy out there."

He stared at her, thrown.

Because she didn’t say "famous." She didn’t say "fast." She said happy.

And he realized — with a pang so fierce it nearly knocked the air out of him — that he was.

When she was around, he was.

———

Chapter 9: Cracks in the Bubble

The second time Y/N got into a kart, she looked determined.

Deadly serious.

"Okay," she said, yanking her helmet down with a snap. "No more driving like a drunk baby giraffe."

Lando bit back a laugh.

"You sure?" he teased, hopping into his own kart with practiced ease. "I was kinda looking forward to seeing if you could set a world record for most spins in one lap."

She flipped him off cheerfully, gunning her little kart forward with a wild screech of tires.

He laughed so hard he almost forgot to start his own.

—

The next thirty minutes were chaos.

Y/N barreling into corners like she had a personal vendetta against gravity. Lando weaving around her, slowing down to tease her, tapping her bumper lightly with his kart whenever he passed just to mess with her.

She screamed fake outrage every time.

At one point, she tried to block him from overtaking by swinging wildly across the track like a Mario Kart character.

He narrowly avoided crashing into her, throwing his hands up dramatically.

"THAT'S ILLEGAL!" he yelled over the roar of the engines.

She laughed so hard she nearly spun out — again.

—

Eventually, red flags waved them back into the pit lane.

Y/N pulled off her helmet, hair a wild mess, cheeks flushed from adrenaline and laughter.

Lando pulled up next to her, helmet under his arm, grinning like an idiot.

"Improvement," he said, nodding seriously.

She beamed. "Didn't die this time!"

Max wandered over, towel slung around his neck, smirking.

"You guys looked like the world's worst synchronized kart dancers," he said, mock-stern.

Y/N bowed dramatically. "Thank you, thank you. We try."

Max elbowed Lando lightly. "Mate," he said in a low voice, smirking. "You're smiling so much it’s scaring the staff."

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't wipe the grin off his face if he tried.

Max clapped him on the shoulder and wandered off, laughing.

Y/N watched the exchange, something soft flickering in her eyes. But she didn’t say anything.

She just tossed Lando his helmet and said, "Rematch?"

And he thought — not for the first time — I’m so screwed.

—

After they cleaned up and changed back into their normal clothes, Lando suggested grabbing a bite at the tiny café across the street.

Nothing fancy. Greasy fries. Plastic tables. Exactly what he needed.

They sat by the window, sharing a basket of fries, teasing each other about their "racing skills" when it happened.

A teenager — probably fifteen, maybe sixteen — walked past the window, did a double-take, and froze.

Eyes wide. Mouth opening slightly.

Lando stiffened automatically, years of instinct kicking in.

He glanced at Y/N — ready for the shift. The awkwardness. The questions. The change.

Instead, Y/N just smiled warmly at the kid, nudging the basket of fries closer to Lando like nothing was happening.

Giving him space.

Letting him decide.

The kid edged closer, nervous.

"Um... excuse me?" he said, voice cracking slightly. "Are you... are you Lando Norris?"

Lando smiled — small, tired, but real.

"Yeah, mate," he said, easy. "What's up?"

The kid fumbled a phone out of his pocket. "Could I, uh... get a photo? If that's okay?"

"Of course," Lando said, standing up and clapping the kid lightly on the shoulder. "No problem."

They snapped a quick picture. The kid practically vibrated with excitement, thanking him about ten times before hurrying off down the street.

Lando sat back down slowly.

Y/N popped a fry into her mouth, still acting like nothing had happened.

"You’re famous," she said casually, like she was observing the weather.

He stared at her, thrown.

"You're... not freaking out?"

She shrugged, smiling faintly. "Should I?"

He blinked, scrambling for words.

"I mean — most people — it’s just..." He trailed off, frustrated with himself.

Y/N leaned her chin on her hand, watching him with quiet amusement.

"I figured you did something cool," she said. "Didn't figure you for a kart salesman."

He barked a surprised laugh.

She grinned, kicking his shin lightly under the table.

"Relax, Speed Racer," she said. "I’m still gonna beat your ass at trivia next week."

He stared at her — open, vulnerable — and realized in that exact moment: She’s different. She’s safe.

She didn't want a piece of the spotlight. She didn't want anything from him except the pieces he willingly gave her.

And for someone who had spent years being looked at like a prize to win or a headline to write it was terrifying.

And it was everything.

—

Later, walking back to the car, Y/N bumped his shoulder lightly with hers.

"For what it's worth," she said, glancing up at him under the streetlights, "I think you're pretty cool. Fame or no fame."

Lando swallowed hard.

"You too," he said, voice thick.

Maybe more than pretty cool. Maybe the coolest thing that had ever happened to him.

———

Chapter 10: The Things We Carry

It started because he was curious.

They were sprawled across her tiny living room floor one night, surrounded by half-eaten pizza, empty soda cans, and the remnants of a half-serious movie marathon.

At some point, between arguing about whether animated movies counted as “real cinema” (they absolutely did, according to Y/N) and who had the worst taste in music (definitely Lando, according to Y/N), she pulled out a battered old sketchbook.

He caught the flash of it out of the corner of his eye — the frayed edges, the bent corners, the cover smeared with fingerprints.

"What’s that?" he asked, nodding toward it.

She hesitated. Just for a second.

Then shrugged, casual, like it didn’t matter.

"Sketchbook," she said, flipping it open and showing him a page without ceremony.

Pencil sketches filled the paper — messy but alive, full of motion and feeling. Faces. Cities. Dreamscapes.

Lando blinked, stunned.

"You did all this?" he asked, voice softer than he meant it to be.

She smiled, a little self-conscious. "Yeah."

He flipped through a few more pages, handling the book like it was made of glass.

"You’re insane," he said, awe creeping into his voice. "This is... this is amazing."

She shrugged again, brushing it off, but he could see the faint blush creeping up her neck.

"You wanna try?" she asked suddenly, tossing him a blank page and a pencil.

He stared at it like it was a bomb.

"Me? Draw?"

She grinned wickedly. "Come on, Speed Racer. How hard can it be?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Famous last words."

—

It was a disaster.

An absolute, hilarious disaster.

Lando’s hand cramped within minutes. His "dog" looked like a melting sock puppet. His "car" resembled a very angry toaster.

Y/N laughed so hard she nearly fell over, clutching her stomach as she tried — and failed — to offer helpful critique.

"Okay, okay," she wheezed between giggles. "Maybe stick to driving."

He threw a crumpled piece of paper at her, pretending to be offended.

But inside — he felt lighter than he had in months.

Because she didn’t care that he was terrible. Because here, in this tiny messy apartment, surrounded by pizza boxes and bad art, he wasn’t Lando Norris the racer.

He was just Lando.

And she was just Y/N.

Two people slowly stitching themselves back together in each other’s company.

—

Later that week, back at the McLaren simulator center, Oscar cornered him.

"Mate," Oscar said, arms crossed, smirking. "I don't know what's going on with you, but you're like... different."

Lando raised a brow. "Different how?"

Oscar waved a hand vaguely. "You're not snapping at the engineers every ten minutes. You’re smiling for no reason. You’re even letting Zac beat you at table tennis. It’s creepy."

Lando rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at his mouth.

"Maybe I’m just... happier," he said, almost daring Oscar to make fun of him.

Oscar stared at him for a beat longer than necessary. Then he smiled — real and wide — and clapped Lando on the shoulder.

"'Bout time," he said simply.

And Lando felt it, deep in his bones — the way change sneaks in when you’re not looking.

—

The whispers started then.

Tiny things.

Jon joking during a debrief about Lando "finally being a human again." A mechanic muttering under his breath, "Whatever he’s doing lately, it’s working."

No one said her name. No one knew.

But Lando did.

Every smile. Every lighter step. Every deep breath that didn't feel like it might choke him —

It all traced back to her.

To the girl who handed him a terrible cup of diner coffee. To the girl who laughed at his terrible drawings and beat him at trivia. To the girl who never once asked him to be anyone but himself.

The things he carried used to be heavy. Expectations. Guilt. Fear.

Now he was starting to carry something else.

Hope. Home. Her.

And for once, he wasn’t afraid of the weight.

———

Chapter 11: The Space Between Us

It should have been just another night.

Pizza. A stupid romcom playing on her tiny TV. Them fighting over who got the last slice (he let her win, obviously).

Nothing special. Nothing earth-shattering.

Except, everything about her was starting to feel like home.

—

Y/N was sitting cross-legged on the couch, sketching lazily on a cheap canvas balanced on her knees. Not serious, just doodles, jokes, lines that curled and stretched into something messy and alive.

Lando sprawled beside her, feet kicked up on the coffee table, tossing a gummy bear up in the air and trying (badly) to catch it in his mouth.

He missed.

Again.

She snorted, not even looking up. "World-class athlete, huh?"

"Don’t mock me," he muttered, launching another gummy with more dramatic flair.

It bounced off his nose.

She laughed so hard she had to put the canvas down.

He grinned, basking in it — the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes crinkled at the edges, the easy way she existed around him without expecting anything.

God, he thought, chest tight, how am I supposed to tell her?

Because he had to.

He couldn't keep her in the dark anymore. Not when she mattered this much.

Not when he was falling for her so fast it left him breathless.

—

His phone buzzed.

He ignored it at first, tossing another gummy bear and — miracle of miracles — actually catching it.

"Finally!" she cheered mockingly, raising her arms like a referee signaling a goal.

He bowed deeply from the couch, grinning like an idiot.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

She frowned, reaching over and tapping the screen.

He moved too late.

A string of notifications flashed across it — Zak Brown: "Need you to review media schedule for Monaco ASAP." Jon: "Sky Sports wants the updated PR package, don't forget..." McLaren PR: "Final approval needed for your feature story."

Her hand froze mid-tap.

Their eyes met.

For a long second, neither of them said anything.

The movie kept playing — a background hum — but the room had shifted.

The bubble they lived in cracked just a little.

Not broken. Not shattered.

Just… cracked.

Enough to let the truth start to bleed through.

"You..." she started, voice slow, careful. "You're... not just a karting guy, are you?"

Lando swallowed hard.

"No," he said softly.

He sat up, hands knotting in his lap.

"I should've told you sooner," he said, voice rough around the edges. "I didn't want to lie, I just... I liked being 'just me' with you for a while."

She set the canvas aside, facing him fully now.

Waiting.

Not judging. Not running.

Waiting.

He blew out a breath.

"I'm a Formula 1 driver," he said finally. "For McLaren."

Silence.

Only the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the movie’s muffled dialogue filling the space between them.

Y/N blinked once.

Twice.

Then, to his complete shock — she smiled.

Small. Soft. A little sad, but sure.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "That... makes sense."

He stared at her, heart hammering so hard he thought it might crack his ribs.

"You’re not..." He couldn’t even finish the sentence. Not freaking out. Not treating him differently. Not shrinking away.

She shook her head slowly.

"You’re still you," she said simply. "Still the guy who sucks at drawing and cheats at trivia and eats more gummy bears than anyone should legally consume."

He let out a breath that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh and maybe something else. Something wrecked and grateful and so in love he didn’t know what to do with it.

"You’re not mad?" he asked, voice breaking slightly.

She smiled wider, bumping his knee with hers.

"I’m only mad you didn't trust me sooner."

The words hit him like a gut punch.

Because she was right. And because she still wasn’t walking away.

She was still here. Still choosing him.

Lando scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to pull himself together.

"I’m sorry," he said thickly. "I was scared."

Y/N’s voice softened.

"I get scared too, you know."

He looked up sharply.

She shrugged, eyes shining with something he couldn’t name yet.

"Scared that if I let someone close," she said quietly, "they'll leave when they see the mess."

He exhaled shakily.

"I’m not leaving," he said without thinking.

The words slipped out — raw, unvarnished, real.

And she looked at him like maybe — just maybe — she believed him.

—

They didn’t say much after that.

They didn’t need to.

They just sat there knees brushing, hearts pounding, the space between them growing smaller with every shared breath.

And somewhere in that cracked, messy, beautiful night, Lando realized something he couldn't take back:

He wasn’t just falling.

He had already fallen.

———

Chapter 12: Somewhere Only We Know

The days after Lando told her the truth felt... different.

Not bad. Not awkward.

Just more.

More glances held a little too long. More touches that lingered longer than necessary. More silences that said everything without saying a word.

—

One night, they ended up at the same diner where it all began — the Bluebird Diner — tucked into their old booth, pretending not to notice how their knees brushed under the table.

Y/N doodled absentmindedly on a napkin, humming along to the jukebox in the background.

Lando watched her — the way her hair fell across her face, the soft curve of her smile — and felt something so sharp and tender in his chest it almost hurt.

He wanted to bottle this moment. Save it for when the world inevitably tried to tear it apart.

Because it would. He knew it would.

Nothing this good ever stayed untouched.

—

Outside, the night buzzed with the low hum of neon signs and distant traffic. They lingered by his car, neither wanting to leave first.

"You know," she said, voice light but eyes serious, "you don’t have to keep pretending the world isn’t watching."

He stiffened.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged, kicking a pebble across the parking lot. "I mean... I see it. The looks. The whispers. The people snapping pictures when they think you’re not paying attention."

He looked away, throat tight.

"I hate it," he muttered. "I hate that it touches you, too."

She stepped closer, bumping her shoulder against his.

"Hey," she said softly. "You don't have to protect me from your world. I'm not afraid of it."

He closed his eyes briefly, fighting the surge of emotion that rose up.

"I'm afraid of losing this," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "This — us — whatever we are... it feels like the only real thing I have left sometimes."

She reached out, fingers brushing his hand.

"You’re not losing me," she said simply.

And he believed her. God help him, he believed her.

—

But reality had other plans.

The next morning, the headlines started.

Not full-blown scandal. Just... whispers.

Grainy photos snapped by some kid outside the diner. A blurry shot of Lando holding the door open for Y/N. Another one of them laughing by the car, heads tilted close together.

The captions were worse.

"New girl? Mystery companion? Has Lando Norris finally been tamed?"

Lando stared at his phone screen, a sick feeling curling low in his stomach.

It wasn't her fault. It was never her fault.

But he knew what came next. The curiosity. The questions. The pressure.

He couldn't — wouldn't — drag her into that world unless she chose it.

And he hated that choice was even necessary.

—

That night, he picked her up without saying where they were going.

Just,

"Pack a bag. Something comfortable. Trust me."

She didn’t question it.

Just grabbed a backpack, threw on a hoodie, and climbed into the passenger seat with a smile that cracked him open a little more.

—

They drove for hours — past city lights, past towns that flickered and faded, into the wild, open darkness of nowhere.

Finally, he pulled off a side road, tires crunching over gravel, and parked near a cluster of old cabins nestled against a quiet lake.

No paparazzi. No fans. No noise.

Just them.

The real world — the hungry, clawing, endless real world — left behind like a bad dream.

Y/N climbed out, stretching her arms over her head, staring up at the blanket of stars above them.

"This is..." she breathed, spinning slowly in the gravel. "This is magic."

He watched her, heart in his throat.

"It's ours," he said quietly. "Just ours."

She smiled at him — wide, unguarded, beautiful.

And in that moment, Lando swore he’d do anything to protect this. Her. Them.

No matter what came next.

Even if the whole world tried to tear it down — he was ready to fight for it.

For her.

———

Chapter 13: Everything All at Once

The swing creaked under them as they rocked lazily back and forth.

The mug of hot chocolate sat forgotten between them, the stars blinking overhead, the lake whispering against the shore.

Y/N tugged the blanket higher around her shoulders, nudging his side with her elbow.

"You’re quiet," she said softly.

Lando leaned back against the swing’s chains, staring up at the sky.

"Just thinking."

"That’s dangerous," she teased, a smile pulling at her mouth.

He snorted, bumping her back lightly. "Harsh."

She shrugged, grinning. "You set yourself up for it."

He smiled — real, wide, the kind that made her chest ache — and let the silence stretch for a beat before speaking again.

"You ever think about how small we are?" he asked quietly. "Like... look at all that," he gestured up at the sky, "and we’re just... here."

Y/N tilted her head, looking up. "Yeah. I think about it all the time."

"You scared of it?" he asked, glancing sideways at her.

She shook her head. "Nah. It's kinda beautiful, isn't it? Being small. Means you can still choose where you want to go."

Lando looked at her — really looked at her — and felt something shift low in his chest.

God, how did he get so lucky?

How did he find her when he didn’t even know what he was looking for?

—

He noticed her shiver, just barely, and before he even thought about it, he reached out and tugged the blanket tighter around her.

Their hands brushed. Paused.

Stayed.

She looked up at him, eyes wide, vulnerable.

He swallowed hard, his heart thudding so loud he was sure she could hear it.

"I don't want to lose this," he said suddenly, voice rough and broken around the edges.

Y/N’s fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, anchoring herself to him without even realizing it.

"You’re not going to," she whispered back. "You’re stuck with me now."

He let out a shaky laugh — part relief, part terror — and leaned in before he could talk himself out of it.

The kiss was soft at first.

Gentle.

Almost hesitant.

Like asking a question neither of them had the words for yet.

But she answered — God, she answered — pressing closer, threading her fingers through his hair, breathing him in like he was air and she had been drowning.

The swing creaked under them, the blanket slipped off their shoulders, but neither of them cared.

They were too busy trying to memorize the shape of each other.

—

When they finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together, Lando closed his eyes and whispered against her skin.

"I think I was falling before I even knew it."

Y/N smiled — small and stunned and beautiful — and whispered back,

"Me too."

He kissed her again because there was no other way to survive it.

Because love had been blooming quietly between them for weeks — in stolen glances, stupid trivia games, late-night coffee, and messy drawings.

And now it was here.

Messy. Breathless. Unstoppable.

Everything. All at once.

———

PART 2

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #lando x you #lando x y/n #lando norizz #lando imagine #landoscar #mclaren #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oscar piastri #lando norris x oc #reader x lando #reader x lando norris

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alkelkha · 3 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter four

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

❛❛ APOLOGIZE WITH FIREWORKS ❜❜

a careless toss of an envelope with this week’s paycheck slid off the desk. your eyes followed the movement. “you’re slacking, [name].”

you’ve been slacking for the past two weeks. that’s how long it’s been since you and blue fought. you thought that she would come around and the two of you would hang out again like nothing happened, but of course, it didn’t. you were given straight radio silence, you even tried visiting her at her workshop and home. nothing.

she was your best friend and you hurt her to the point she’s shut herself in. was she even in there? was she ignoring you? did she run off? did she hate you now? did you just ruin everything? you couldn’t tell, it was like she locked herself in. this was killing you.

every since she left it was like all the good things she brought with her did too. the endless laughter between the two of you, the satuation of the world. because of her you finally felt safe, your loan sharks finally stopped bothering you.

sometimes you think you see her (which you don’t). anything blue made you think of her, clouds too. you can’t bring yourself to eat the blue raspberry candy.

the truth was that she was your good luck charm.

“do you want to lose this job?” big don’s voice rang in the office, snapping you back to reality. lose this job? this was the only job that could help pay off your debt that didn’t involve selling yourself, beating others half to death, and stealing.

“i’ve been kind to you. i gave you this pussy job so you could pay me back with my own money.” he leans forward resting his clasped-together hands on the desk.

“but i see something,” the tall man raises from his seat. your breath got caught up in your throat and your heart quickened its pace. “…someone has made you sloppy. has taken your attention off of what is really important.” you knew what he meant and you couldn’t deny it.

you have gotten sloppy with your work, clocking out a little bit early, and coming to work late more often— that was you when you and jinx started hanging out, but since jinx and you have gotten into that fight all of it got worse. “that new girl…” your eyes shot from the ground and straight to big don. the way he referred to her made your stomach turn. was he going to send his goons after her too.

“don’t—“ without thinking you stepped forward, you were about to walk up and slap him. good thing your mind caught up with you. yay, no bullet between your eyes!

“don’t what?” big don shot back at you, he stopped pacing and walked over to you. “run her out of flosnum? tie up the new girl in town? have some of my men give her a good beating? or maybe i’ll make you do that…” gulping at his implication you step back. you knew big don was sick, but surely not that sick?

right?

towering over you, two heads taller his dull dark eyes look down at you, his eyes make you feel so insignificant. you were nothing but a mere worker bee, “[insert sibling] may have escaped off to bilgewater. ixtal? ionia? who gives a fuck anymore. what matters is that one of you is here. one thing stands. your father’s debt.”

“get your act together or you’re on your own.” he then grips your hair, and with a harsh tug he pulls you closer to him. he smelt of cigarettes and mangos, “once you’re on your own i won’t care how and what you do to pay off the debt. sell your body for all i care.”

you left his office and went back to working at the bar. overtime. work for two weeks with no pay as punishment, which was mercy considering you've been waterboarded other times.

though you were starting to consider being waterboarded instead.

how long has it been? she can’t remember, there was no point in counting hours or days when she was in this state.

her chipped painted nails scratched off her cuticles to the point they bleed. curled up in the middle of her room stuck in an unforgiving daze. a haze that consumed her mind and filled it with thoughts that pricked her brain as if they were needles.

she fucked up. again. and she doesn’t have the guts to try and fix it.

not that there was anything to fix, you were done with her. you hated her. you saw her as insane as soon as you saw her.

she was an idiot to show you that side of her. what made her think that this would be any different? danger or not, flosnum was not immune to her effect.

her blue chopped hair now grown inches past her ears but not long enough to touch her shoulders, her bangs terribly long, and the purple dye worn out. the bonsai tree on her bedroom windowsill half dead. the irrigating bear under her bed where its voice is too far to catch.

jinx. that’s who she was. she couldn’t fight it anymore. running from it has been deemed impossible even when she’s a sea away from piltover and zaun.

metal and wood clanking against each other.

she could hear it, the small huffs, exhales, and sniffles. the light-weight pitter-patter danced around her.

isha.

jinx was greatness to isha. a haven. a symbol. someone worth protecting.

jinx could feel the vibrations from the floor bouncing back to her curled-up position. she had her knees to her chest and hid her face.

she couldn’t bring herself to look up. she was scared that if she looked up she would see her. if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do.

all those times she told off sevika that jinx was dead, isha was the one that kept the image of her alive. not a symbol of destruction— no longer just a loose cannon but a hero.

powder was the one that died.

she thought that maybe if she could start over, it would all be from the beginning.

no jinx. just powder. the more she stayed on this tropical island she was reminded that she couldn’t be powder.

to be honest, jinx liked isha’s version of jinx. the version that isha would play games, watch battles fight each other, fall asleep to her overly-dramatized exploits, graffiti on walls, and stargaze with.

the careless dancing footsteps morphed into cautious ones and the steps were slightly heavier.

step. step. step.

these footsteps didn’t seem as if they were sneaking up on prey, still, jinx refused to raise her head up from her knees, her eyes stayed shut.

just ignore it.

she repeated those words, a mantra that got her through a handful of her episodes. unexpectantly, light fingertips grazed her shoulder, unsure if they could go further in the contact.

hallucinations couldn’t touch her.

a low gentle voice “blue.” jinx felt all of her defenses fall. how pathetic that’s all it took.

you crouched down behind her. jinx’s back faced you, wearing only a pink tank top and wool shorts that showed off the blue clouds on the right side of her body.

the only reason you were able to get in was because you found a foolishly placed spare key sticking out from under a ceramic pot with a wilting flower.

you were tired of waiting.

“i’m sorry.” trying to shove down the heat rising to your face, you swallow. there was nothing more you hated than apologizing, which was ironic since you did it quite often. normally when you did it, it was out of fear or common courtesy.

sincerely apologizing on the other hand? the thought of you being the person in the wrong felt like a punch in the gut, but none of that mattered.

the only thing you wanted right now was your friend back. “i’m so sorry. that day at the beach when i sighed it wasn’t towards you.” jinx was still. “that day was perfect and i ruined it. i made you feel that i didn’t enjoy it. i did! it’s just—“ you sucked in a breath before explaining.

“…i have a hard time living in the moment, i’m always thinking about my next shift. that i have my shift in this many hours, i’ll have to deal with rowdy customers in less than a day after, i have to pay off my debt.” she didn’t answer, it felt like you were talking to a brick wall.

“ever since you came into my life you have been what i look forward to.”

silence is all she gives you. not even a hum of acknowledgment. “blu—“ you couldn’t finish the nickname because of how shocked you were to see jinx finally turn her head towards you. you can only see her side profile due to the position the two of you are holding.

the saturation of her vibrant red-violet eyes is now exhausted and dull. an alarm rang in your head. scrabbling from your knees you made it to in front of her to get the whole view of her. you needed to see all of her.

jinx’s closed-off position, her days-old makeup, unkempt hair, and lightweight. her head a bit more raised so she could look at you better as your eyes roamed around her body.

her eyes.

her eyes were so doe and dull, the manic that she usually held in her eyes was nowhere to be found. this was the most vulnerable you’ve seen her yet there were still so many walls.

she looked horrible.

you did this.

“[name]…”

her hoarse voice made your heart ache. gulping, pushing down the guilt. you slowly and carefully take her hands into yours. “let’s get you cleaned up, blue.”

the first thing you did was take off her makeup with a wet piece of cloth. you had no idea how long she had been like this, it looks like she had that same face of makeup for almost a week, probably more.

her cheeks were tear-stricken with dried-up mascara and eyeliner. her purple eyeshadow was worn out along with her smudged lipstick.

you washed her hair in the sink. she sat on a chair, her head leaned back as the faucet ran through her blue locks. your hands gently messaging her scalp, and then detangled everything with a brush.

the two of you didn’t talk at all. sitting on a stool your wrist moved in circular motions, washing her back.

she felt herself slowly come back to reality. the way you were being so careful with her as if she was worth being gentle to. were you doing all of this just to torment her?

surely you weren’t faking the affection in your touch? you wouldn’t do such a thing. you couldn’t.

she felt her eyes burning up.

she felt the rough texture of the cloth exfoliating her skin, your hand carefully leading its way to her tattooed arm. your movements slow not wanting to have her pull away from your touch.

jinx lets out a ragged breath, louder than the scrubbing of her skin and water droplets. that was the first breath she let out since you came to her. your movement paused and went even slower. gentler.

that’s when she bursts into tears.

you froze up a bit hearing her choked sobs, “oh hon…” jinx’s shoulder shook as she leaned forward, away from you. her sobs only got louder and louder. saliva collected in her mouth and her face turned a pinkish hue.

putting aside the cloth you took her shoulders and pulled her back towards you, you wrapped your arms around her neck, and your head was right next to hers. “tell me what’s wrong.” you whispered in her ear, you didn’t bother hiding the tremor in your voice.

“please, talk to me. did i make you upset again?” you plead for her to talk to you.

“i’m sorry.” her sobs so broken that her voice cracks as she apologizes. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” she just shakes her head repeating herself over and over again.

“shh.” you say rocking the both of you side to side in an attempt to lull her sobs. “it’s okay, there’s nothing you need to apologize for. we both messed up.”

“i’m such a child, i ruined everything!” she hiccups, her sobs only worsened. she leans on you like a child seeking comfort.

“stop that. you ruined nothing, okay?” you tried to keep your voice firm.

“i made something out of nothing again and i pushed you away and now you hate me—”

you cut her off, “if i hated you would i be here right now?”

“you will once i mess up again.”

sighing, you pinch her cheek. “it was a silly little fight, we got through it.”

jinx winces at the pinch but she doesn’t pull away instead, her cries lessen and her face scrunches up a bit. “what if we get into another fight?”

not letting go of her cheek you kept speaking, “we’ll get through it. even when i get irritated or mad with you, i’ll always come back to you.” she turns her head and you pull away to give her some space to move.

her eyes were bloodshot, her pink irises sparkled as if she was begging you to confirm your words. “you’re my best friend, things like this will always pass over, i promise.”

jinx’s sobs were no more and what was left was her small sniffles as you got back to bathing her.

getting back together with you made jinx realize some things.

number one: you would never ever ever ever leave her no matter what!

this meant she could do anything without you leaving her. like sleeping together in the same bed and kicking you off.

number two: the two of you were practically made for each other!

she has been clinging onto every second of the day and you welcomed it with open arms. (well other than the times she’s stalking you, but you don’t need to know that!) has she gotten more childish with you? maybe.

it was your day off so per usual you were with her, instead of rotting together at her workshop the two of you went out for ice cream and window shopped. the two of you walked side by side in the blazing heat, jinx’s arm hooked on yours.

usually, she would complain and complain in this weather and end up with sunburns which you had to tend to. these days she wouldn’t, it was like she grew up with flosnum. she wore a mismatched bikini top and stockings, low rise shorts black and pink shorts, and black boots with pink laces. “new style?” you raised a brow.

“just matching the weather.” jinx licks the dripping cotton candy ice cream from her cone. the undercity wasn’t hot like flosnum. it was humid at best but mostly cold. hell, she felt the warmth of sun on her skin more on her first week here than she did her whole life in zaun.

going on your route you spot a jewelry vendor, something catches your eye. mindlessly pulling away from her to go check it out jinx furrows her brows, she follows behind you. your eyes were on the turtle trinket. the jewels on it sparkled like no other.

stupid.

jinx’s finger hooks on the loop of your bottoms and pulls you closer to her side. she bends over a bit to get a better look at the stupid trinket. “oh come on, toots, you don’t need this. you already have that ugly turtle pendant.”

you smack the back of her head and she whines. “my necklace is not stupid!” you defend the bronze hanging around your neck. “besides, i wasn’t going to buy it….” your eyes trail to the price tag, the sight causes you to frown. “way too expensive anyway.” you turn on your heels and walk away from the vendor.

she watches you walk away and back to the turtle trinket. it was ugly. tacky too. you wouldn’t look good in it.

jinx shrugs and catches up with you, she loops her arm with yours licking her ice cream once again with a stolen trinket in her pocket.

number three: she missed chaos.

because of that, she’s going to blow up at tonight’s festival. she’s been working on it the day after you bathed her, tucked her into bed, and fell asleep in bed with her. which was six days ago.

don’t worry. don’t worry. she’s not going to kill anyone. she was done with that, instead, these bombs were going to make a teenie tiny little mess.

today’s festival was in honor of the day flosnum successfully defended itself against bilgewater, many lives were lost due to the battle. which was an incredible feat now that jinx thinks about it.

anyways, that doesn’t matter! what matters is that she wants to ruin it.

it’s the most jinx thing she can do.

somehow the paradise was infinitely more vibrant under the dark sky. maybe it was the twinkling stars, the glowing plants, and the fairy lights. everyone gathered in the streets, adorned in tropical garlands. the two of you held a stick, the tip burned bright, sparkling.

normally, jinx’s mind would be on how gorgeous your smile was, but today she was too excited to even think properly. she was too happy to fuck the celebration up. she had already planted the bombs.

the air was filled with a sweet and fruity scent of exotic flowers. your sweet laughter echoed in her mind finally snapping her out of it. “what’s got you so happy, blue?” she asked, pointing out her dumb smile.

jinx dropped the stick, “follow me.” she grabbed onto you forcing you to do the same and follow behind her.

there was so much of everything. people, noise, lights, smells. you canvas through the streets and she takes you onto her workshop’s rooftop. though her workshop was placed in a shady alleyway, the view she had up top was breathtaking.

her rooftop was decorated with random cut-up fabrics, unfinished projects (aka junk but she won’t let you call it that), and colorful lanterns. the stars painted the night sky, the jinx sat on the rooftop ledge. being the more cautious one you tried not to, but she forced you anyway.

“we’re best friends, right?” jinx slowly turns her head to you, your eyes are on the ground, watching the people below.

“i sure hope so,” you snort. realizing that it wasn’t the right time to joke you backtracked, “of course we are, the best of friends.” you didn’t look back but that didn’t make your response any less sincere.

her red-violet eyes trace your side profile. you were pretty like this, with the colors of the lanterns illuminating off of you. the color blue graced your brown skin and the coils of your hair. it was almost as beautiful as when the sunlight would kiss your skin.

jinx wasn’t sure when it started. “it” being when she became so attentive to you. maybe, it was the day she first saw you behind the counter of her now workshop. maybe, it was the day she crashlanded and you saved her.

the topic of the day she crashlanded was never brought up between the two of you. jinx wasn’t sure if you were aware that she knew.

jinx should’ve forgotten about you that day, her vision was hazy and smoke filled her lungs— her mind shouldn’t even have registered the details of you. but she did.

the key detail she remembered?

it was that stupid bronze necklace.

the ugly piece of metal that is still hanging around your neck. it looks as if it was handmade. well maintained yet specks of chipped-off green paint on the turtle’s shell.

“good,” jinx smiles at your answer. her hand reaches into her pocket and your eyes follow, her fist closed around not letting you know what it is just yet. “because i wanted to give you something.”

your eyes finally lock with hers. “i’m not good with words. i’m not good with my actions either.” her vibrant eyes shift away from yours, but she forces herself to keep eye contact with yours. “i fuck shit up. always. as soon as something good comes in my life it’s taken away, by my hand or something else.”

jinx couldn't find the right words, she didn't even know where she was going with this. “i ruin everything,” she laughed bitterly, her eyes searched yours to see if you were annoyed by your senseless rambling, but you didn’t. you listened, waiting for the next words to come out of her mouth.

“i’m jinxed. it’s in my name.”

jinx looks down at her hand, her fist is holding onto the mystery item tightly. then her fingers hesitantly open up her fist, revealing what’s in the palm of your hand. you look down. this feeling in your stomach, it flips and flutters. “blue, is this—“

“jinx,” she didn’t let you get a sentence in. “that’s my name.”

jinx...so that was blue's name. oddly enough, it fit her perfectly. she didn't look like a sasha, cassie, hannah, or kate. for someone as cool as her she should have an equally cool name.

“that’s so cool!” your eyes twinkle, filled with excitement, completely ignorant to the significance of this moment.

when the words left your mouth jinx left hundreds of degrees hotter. a warmth blazed through her body. no one has ever had this type of reaction to her name.

“so, you’ve been cool you’re whole life, huh?” you scrunch up your face in mock jealousy. “cool hair. cool talents. cool personality. cool name. you’re just a package, aren’t you, jinx?”

why did she like her name coming from your lips so much?

trying to hide her flustered state she puts on a cocky front, “enough of how cool you think i am. are you going to take my gift or not?” she dangles the trinket in front of your face. “you stole it.” you blink at her unamused. still you took it from her hand. “says who? you think i can’t afford something like this?” she tilts her head, raising a brow.

“then what’s this?” you point to the tag.

she looks at it and grumbles. after pulling it off she then put on a faux innocent smile. “what’s what?” seeing how your unamused expression didn’t waver she sighed in defeat. “i just wanted to do something for you, you deserve tiny luxuries like this. maybe it could bring you some luck too. a lucky charm.”

her words managed to make you loosen up. your face softens. “thanks, hon, but i already have a lucky charm.”

jinx’s squints her eyes at you, “wait, you do?”

"i'm talking about you, jinx."

jinx, a lucky charm? how ironic. se had always been the cause of trouble, never the solution. when she did try to find one it only made everything worse. but here the two of you are. you hailed her as your lucky charm. a good omen.

she lets out a bark of laughter, she laughs with her full chest. all of this was too surreal it was making her head spin.

POW POW POW

with distant bangs a cloud of red, then purple, then green, then blue. the town square exploded with a flurry of colorful dust. the dust danced in the sky and fell back down onto the cobbled ground as if it were snowfall.

oh right. jinx forgot about those.

the two of you whip your heads to the noise to see the mayhem going on.

their faces being painted with the colorful dye. the locals dance and twirl along with the ongoing blasts of the bright vibrant powder into the air. children rushed trying to catch the falling powder, some even making angles on the ground.

your eyes snap wide with amazement at the view, “oh my gods!” no way in hell were you going to miss out on something like this. you carefully get off the rooftop ledge and pull jinx with you.

“get your ass up, let’s join the fun!”

screams, panicked voices, and people trying to take cover, that’s what jinx expected. not the sound of flosnum residents’ laughter and cheers. her plans to cause chaos failed.

she really was a jinx.

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed @velvetinkbym

#arcane #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x you #jinx x fem!reader #arcane x reader #jinx x y/n #wlw fanfic #arcane jinx x reader #x black reader #black reader #x black fem reader #jinx x blkfem!reader #elka's shop #jinx arcane x reader #arcane fanfic #lesbian fanfic #lesbian

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 months ago

Text

A Princess & Her Knight ~ 2

A PRINCESS & HER KNIGHT MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,000ish

Summary: Logan's first day as your protector.

Notes: I promise the chapters will get longer. Please send in reactions!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

“I heard that Sir Logan has been assigned as your personal knight,” your lady’s maid, Anne Marie, stated as she helped you ready for bed.

“Yes. My father believes that I need a babysitter,” you responded. “And while I love my father, his choice of knight is questionable.”

“I don’t know. Sir Logan is handsome.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s grumpy and gruff. He also follows every rule. It’s boring.”

“It’s only because he’s a good knight. He respects his King and his position.”

“I respect my King and my position, but can’t a girl have a little fun? I doubt that Logan even knows what fun is.”

“And I’m sure that you’ll show him soon enough.”

You smirked. “I’m sure I’ll show him tonight.”

~~~

Logan knew that his new position didn’t technically begin until the morning, but he had a feeling that he needed to check over the passages he knew the exits to before heading to bed. And he was right. There you were, slipping out of one and into the garden.

“Princess,” his annoyance was clear as he called out for you.

You turned around, not surprised to see that Logan was out here. “Sir Logan,” you greeted, like you didn’t just get caught breaking your father’s recent rule for you.

“You should be in bed.”

“So should you. You need to rest before your start your new position tomorrow.”

“Seems like I’ll be starting it now.” He came over and gently grabbed your wrist. “Let’s go. You can show me how to get back to your room through the passage.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I will.”

Logan huffed in annoyance but didn’t argue further. He had a feeling that he would be arguing with you enough for a life time. “Let’s get you back to your chambers so that I can get a guard posted at that passage.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m not here for fun. I’m here to keep you safe, Princess.”

“Fun and safety can go hand in hand. Or you could learn to live a little.”

Logan opted to stay silent, already growing tired of your poking at him. You took his silence as your first mini victory and allowed him to lead you to your chambers without a fight. He let your wrist go once you had reached your door.

“Good night, Princess,” he said, “and please get some rest instead of wandering around.”

“I’ll try, Sir Logan,” you responded. “I will see you in the morning.”

~~~

Logan had Bobby at your door that morning before Anna Marie was even there to get you ready for the day. Bobby knew how important this assignment was and how it was a great honor to be partnered with Logan to protect the Princess.

“Hi, Bobby,” Anna Marie greeted as she came to the door.

“Miss,” he replied with a nod.

“I heard you were working with Logan now. He sure has his hands full with you and the Princess.”

“I am going to try my best to not be too much of a handful.”

“Yes, well the Princess isn’t going to be trying at all.”

“Then I better make sure I’m on my best behavior.”

Anna Marie smiled before she slipped into your chambers. You were sound asleep in your bed, allowing Anna Marie to get your things ready before she got you ready for the day. You had a pretty regular day planned out for you: breakfast with your father, sitting in some of your father’s meetings, lunch, tea with your Aunt Cassandra, and then the rest of the day was yours.

“Y/N,” she said softly as she gently shook you awake.

You groaned as you began to come to. “No… Let me sleep.”

Anna Maria giggled at your usual antics. “You have the whole morning booked out, Princess. It’s time to wake up.”

“Fine.” You opened your eyes. “But if I’m grumpy that’s your fault.”

“My fault? Or is it the fact that you have a new knight over you today.”

“Both.”

“I will only take blame for what I have part in.”

You huffed as you sat up. “Fine. Let’s get me ready for another boring day.”

~~~

Logan followed you around like a shadow. His armor clinked in only the way his did, due to how stiff and rigid he walked. Bobby drifted in and out, allowing for Logan to have breaks. Logan’s breaks were brief, you barely noticed that he left. It was clear that he took his assignment seriously. Almost too seriously.

Before you knew it, it was time for your afternoon tea in the garden with your Aunt Cassandra, your father’s sister. Being six years younger than your father and unmarried, she was seen as a large disappointment to the Court and many in the kingdom. You had a relationship with her, but on your terms. She was controlling and, though she always denied it, jealous that you were heir to the throne while she was stuck to the sidelines.

The Duchess Ororo Munroe was also set to join you and your aunt for tea. She was ten years older than you and already a widow. She was always grateful for your father as a King because in any other kingdom she would lose her status when her husband died. But instead, Ororo got to keep her land, title, and appointment in the Court. You loved her. She was fiery and fierce. Ororo trained with the guards frequently. You were always in awe at her skill and wished that someone was willing to train you.

“It’s a beautiful day out,” Ororo commented, looking at the surrounding gardens.

“It is,” you agreed.

“It would be prettier if the gardeners would have trimmed the hedges like I told them to,” Cassandra added.

Ororo sent you an annoyed look and rolled her eyes. You smirked behind your cup. Your aunt always found the littlest of things to complain about when she wasn’t saying snide remarks about how she would run the kingdom.

“I see that our dear Princess here as a new babysitter,” Ororo teased, glancing behind you at Logan.

“Yes,” your replied, setting your cup down. “My father is worried for my safety.”

“And your recklessness I assume.”

“He is fond of my recklessness. Father just believes that I need more protection right now.”

“Well, if I were in charge, you wouldn’t get away with most of what you do,” Cassandra added. “You don’t take your title serious enough. If you were my daughter—“

“I’m not. So we don’t have to worry about what you would do, especially since I am the heir to the throne. Not you.”

Cassandra’s jaw clenched as anger flashed across her hateful eyes. Her fingers tapped against the table as she tried to chose her next words carefully. Before she could say anything more, you stood up.

“I believe I have some personal matters to attend to,” you said. “Thank you for the invite for tea, Aunt. It was good to see you, Duchess.”

Then you headed off into the garden, with Logan close behind. He stayed silent as he followed you, though grew more and more curious as you got to the edge of the gardens. You exited the gardens, revealing the stable. You walked straight for it.

“Princess,” one of the stable boys greeted. “Would you like me to get your horse ready?”

“Please,” you responded. “And prepare Sir Logan’s horse as well.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Princess,” Logan called. “You are in no attire to go riding.”

“I’ll be fine,” you waved him off. “If you don’t want to tag along, you don’t have to.”

“We must tell the castle.”

“We’ll be fine. Stop being so grumpy. Have a little fun.”

“Your Highness, you are supposed listen to me. You told the King—“

“I am listening to you and I’m choosing to ignore at the moment.”

“Your Highness,” the stable boy exited. “The horses are ready.”

“Thank you.”

You walked into the stable, paying no mind to your attire. You walked up to your horse, greeted him with a loving pet before jumping on. Princess’ were supposed to ride side saddle while in a dress, but you didn’t care to. As you as you were settled onto your horse, you headed out towards the open fields. Logan huffed as he mounted his own horse and quickly followed after you. You rode through the open fields, enjoying the wind against your face and ignoring the man following close behind.

You rode until you reached the end of the field, where there was a large stone wall, signaling the end to the castle grounds. You stopped and stared up at the wall. Logan came to a halt beside you.

“Do you think I could scale the wall?” You wondered aloud.

“I don’t think it would be wise, Princess,” Logan responded.

“Why?” You looked over at him. “You don't think I could do it?”

He remained silent. You took that as a challenge. You slid off of your horse and walked up to the wall.

“Princess, stop,” Logan ordered, but you ignored him.

You found a spot where there was some lower stones poking out enough for you to step on. You kicked off your shoes and stepped onto the first stone. Before you could go any further, firm hands were on your waist, pulling you away from the wall.

“Let me go, Logan!” You demanded. “I am the Princess!”

“And it is my job to make sure you don’t kill yourself,” he grumbled, keeping his grip on you as he walked towards the horses.

Logan lifted you up, onto yours before turning around to get your shoes. Before he could reach them, you were off your horse and trying to climb the wall again. He grunted disapprovingly as he quickly stuffed the shoes into the satchel on your horse before returning to you. You had climbed up using a few of the stones at this point.

“Princess, get down!” Logan ordered.

“Oh, come on, Logan,” you replied, throwing him teasing smirk, “live a little.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay, serious, come up here and get me.”

Before Logan could make a move to chase after you, you tried to move your foot up more and slipped. You let out a squeal as you went falling down to the ground. Logan swiftly caught you, preventing you from crashing to the dirt.

“Princess! Are you alright?” He immediately began scanning you for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you answered, catching your breath to try to calm your hammering heart.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, Logan. Just scared me a little.”

He carried you back to your horse and helped you on. He kept checking you over, his eyes looking to see if he missed something.

“We should head back,” Logan stated before getting onto his horse.

Logan leaned over and took your reins, tying them to his saddle, and then leading you back to the castle. You stayed silent, knowing that there was no point in arguing with Logan. He escorted you back to your chambers and quickly put Bobby outside your door before heading to talk to the King.

“Your daughter is reckless,” Logan stated as he burst into the King’s office. “The Princess has absolutely no regard for her own safety.”

“So I assume you had an interesting first day,” Charles said with a chuckle.

“She tried to scale the wall! The wall!”

Charles laughed harder. “That’s a new one.”

“This isn’t funny, Charles. What you have given me is an impossible task. She’s impossible!”

“May I remind you that you are talking to your King about the Princess.”

Logan sighed. “Yes. Sorry, Your Majesty.”

“I can tell that my daughter has gotten under your skin. Unfortunately, Logan, I believe that you are the only one who can handle her so your assignment stays.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Is she injured at all?”

“No, I caught her before anything could happen.”

“Then I say it was a successful first day.”

next chapter >

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