#ask team dim sun

[thedensworld]

Stay Supple | Y. Jh

Genre: fluff, humour, smut

Summary: two ordinary worker have to deal with a baby. What should they do? Stay supple!

Missing Yoon Jeonghan hour:( but having so much fun writing this?

The weather was perfect, the sun shining just enough to complement the mood. Both you and Jeonghan waved as you split from the elevator—like clockwork. You headed left towards the design team, while he turned right to finance. Just another day as two regular employees at a food label under a large South Korean company.

"What's your relationship with Ji Y/N?" Jeonghan was first asked this after the two of you were seen leaving work together.

"She's my friend," he'd answer, as simply as possible, before walking off, leaving behind a trail of curious colleagues.

But when your coworkers found out you actually knew "the pretty guy from finance," their questions were relentless: “Is he single?” “Are you two dating?”

"He's my roommate," you revealed one day, much to their shock. "And, believe me, he looks way better than he actually is."

Exposing Jeonghan's less-than-angelic personality to his adoring fans became your daily amusement. It was a shock to everyone when they realized the two of you shared a flat. You’d known each other since junior high, moving to Seoul together in pursuit of better education, career prospects, and, maybe, love. But living in the capital wasn’t some dreamy K-drama. Everything was overpriced, especially rent. So, with some initial hesitation, you two decided to share an apartment.

"You failed your test?" Jeonghan mocked you years ago, when you returned from your architecture exam. He wasn’t surprised—you were hopeless at STEM subjects, and he loved to rub it in.

"I told you she was a snake," you reminded him when he came home heartbroken after his three-month relationship in university went up in flames. She'd used him to get through finals. Classic.

There was an ongoing joke between you two: "There are two types of people in this world—smart but evil, and kind but dumb." It didn’t take much guessing which label each of you wore.

“How was work?” Jeonghan asked as you both trudged home from the bus stop, a routine you had grown used to. The walk was long, so you filled the time with idle chat, unless you'd had an argument the night before, then it was all awkward silence.

You beamed at him, barely containing your excitement. "Amazing! The project I pitched was a hit! I can practically smell a promotion coming."

Jeonghan chuckled, amused by your enthusiasm. "Good for you. Finance was a bit of chaotic today. Did you know the production costs are getting cut by 2% next month?"

Your excitement dimmed. "Wait, what?"

Jeonghan laughed at your panicked expression. "Don’t worry. We're trying to keep it from affecting your department—maybe even that project of yours."

You sighed dramatically. "You finance people really hold the whole company together, huh?"

As you reached your floor and walked down the hallway, the sound of a baby crying echoed. You grimaced and commented on how loud it was, while Jeonghan mindlessly scrolled through his phone.

“Jeonghan,” you stopped just a few feet from your door, a strange feeling twisting in your gut.

Jeonghan turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "What?" he asked, eyes still on his phone.

You pointed toward your apartment door. He finally looked up and saw what had rendered you speechless.

A baby box was sitting right there, in front of your door.

“Well, that's... unexpected,” Jeonghan quipped, scratching his head.

*

You stepped out of the police station, practically fuming, your brows knit together in frustration. Whatever happened inside had clearly pushed you to the edge.

"Do I look like a mother? Do I look old?" you snapped at Jeonghan, still seething over the way the officers had assumed things about you and the baby. You were taking it personally—way too personally.

"We need to investigate this situation further. There’s no CCTV on your apartment floor, so it’s hard for us to confirm whether the baby was really left there or if it’s, well... yours,” one of the officers had said, completely indifferent to your rising anger.

Jeonghan sighed, still holding the baby box as if it weighed a ton. His day had been chaotic enough at work, and now this? He just wanted to take a nap, but instead, he found himself standing in front of the police station, accused of something as wild as fathering a baby outside of marriage.

Yet, somehow, he wasn’t as furious as you.

"So, what do we do with this creature?" Jeonghan gestured at the baby, still sounding far too calm for your liking.

"It's a baby," you muttered.

"I know it’s a baby. But what are we supposed to do? The police won’t take it without more evidence, and we can’t exactly keep it," he said, his voice getting louder, almost desperate. His raised tone startled the baby, who began to cry—loudly.

Jeonghan sighed deeply, the sound of the wailing infant pushing him to his limit. He shot you a pleading look, as if expecting you to pull some miracle solution out of thin air. "You’ve never thought about being in a situation like this before?" he asked, clinging to the hope that you might have a plan.

You shook your head, helpless. "I don’t know... I want to cry too," you mumbled, your frustration bubbling over.

Jeonghan groaned. "Great. That’s exactly what we need—two people crying."

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Alright," he said, resigning himself to the situation. "Let’s just... take it home first. Then we can figure out what to do."

The two of you exchanged a look—one that spoke volumes about how absurd your day had become—before heading back to your shared apartment, a tiny, crying bundle now in tow.

You and Jeonghan sat on the floor of your living room, the baby box placed carefully between the two of you. The baby was still crying, its tiny wails echoing off the walls, and neither of you had the faintest clue how to make it stop.

"Do you think it's hungry? Or maybe... the diaper’s full?" you asked, throwing out the first guesses that came to mind.

Jeonghan instantly grabbed his phone and started Googling. "Yeah, uh, let me just... get some baby stuff," he mumbled, still scrolling as he stood up. He made it a few steps toward the door before turning back to point at you, with a smirk. "And don't do anything dumb while I’m gone. It may be a baby, but trust me—it’s judging you."

You glared at him. "Shut up!" you snapped, though there was a hint of panic creeping into your voice. You had never felt so out of your depth in your own apartment before.

Jeonghan laughed softly under his breath and hurried out the door, leaving you alone with the crying bundle. You sighed, looking down at the baby, and for a second, you swore it was staring back at you, its cries growing more impatient as if it really was judging your lack of maternal instincts.

“Okay, okay, I get it... I’m not cut out for this,” you muttered, feeling a tiny bit of guilt, though mostly stress, wash over you.

When Jeonghan returned home, the sight that greeted him was the last thing he expected. You were sitting on the couch, cradling the baby in your arms, swaying gently as if you'd been doing it for years. The baby was finally quiet, its tiny face peaceful for the first time since you’d found it.

“What did you get?” you asked in a whisper, your voice barely above a breath, as if any louder might undo your newfound peace.

Jeonghan held up a bag and gestured to its contents. "Baby milk, diapers, and... these," he said, showing you a bottle and a baby-sized nipple.

You raised an eyebrow, a little amused. "You got the essentials. How’d that go?"

Jeonghan sighed, a bit sheepish. "The staff asked me how old the baby was. I panicked and just said, 'Uh, it’s a baby... like, you know, baby.’ She gave me the weirdest look because I kept calling it it.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, careful not to disturb the baby. “Good job,” you said, offering him a sarcastic thumbs-up before handing the baby over.

Jeonghan, now holding the baby with a mix of terror and curiosity, watched as you headed to the kitchen to prepare the formula. He could hear you from the other room, opening a tutorial video on YouTube, the sounds of "how to make baby formula" echoing faintly through the apartment.

“Will it be too hot?” you called out once you’d finished preparing the milk, holding up the bottle and inspecting it like you were conducting a science experiment.

Jeonghan smirked, bouncing the baby a little in his arms. "If it can handle my hotness, I think it'll be fine."

You shot him a withering look and promptly kicked his leg, just enough to make him grunt in pain.

“Ow,” he grumbled, trying to keep his voice low, but the baby squirmed in his arms, clearly disturbed by the commotion.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed quickly, gently rocking the baby back and forth. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene—a rare sight, Jeonghan being careful and gentle, though his usual antics weren’t too far behind.

"Careful, 'hot stuff,'" you teased, handing him the bottle. "You wouldn’t want to disturb your new fan."

Jeonghan gave you a mock glare before turning his attention back to the baby, slowly offering the bottle. "Let’s see if this works."

*

Neither of you had gotten a wink of sleep. And for once, the reason wasn't work—it was a baby. A very fresh, very loud baby. After fumbling through the process of changing a diaper and discovering the baby was a boy, you immediately passed him over to Jeonghan, wincing.

“I feel like I violated his privacy,” you mumbled, shoving the squirming infant into Jeonghan’s arms. “I didn’t have his consent.”

Jeonghan just rolled his eyes at your dramatic excuse to get out of diaper duty. “Right. Smart-dumb way to avoid the work.”

The next morning, utterly exhausted and desperate for some relief, you two were saved by an unexpected visitor. Your neighbor, a sweet woman in her 50s, knocked on the door, her face full of concern. She’d heard the crying all night and was curious about the sudden arrival of a baby in your apartment.

You and Jeonghan immediately launched into a frantic explanation, stumbling over your words as you described how you’d found the baby on your doorstep. To your immense relief, she offered to help babysit while the two of you went to work.

Now, finally, there was a moment of peace as you both leaned back in the bus seat, your heads resting against the windows. You shared a glance, silently hoping the short 10-minute bus ride would somehow erase the exhaustion weighing you down.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“She raised four kids. She’s more qualified than we are,” Jeonghan muttered, closing his eyes, the weariness catching up with him.

You sighed in agreement, sinking deeper into your seat. For now, all you could do was hope for the best and enjoy the few minutes of quiet before diving back into the chaos of your day.

"You should boil the bottle before using it, to kill the bacteria. Otherwise, the baby could get a stomachache and won't stop crying," your neighbor advised, her tone gentle but firm, as though the two of you were first-time parents instead of accidental babysitters.

Jeonghan and you stood there, nodding along, taking in her wisdom with wide eyes. "And don’t forget, after feeding, make sure he burps by patting his back gently. It’ll help him feel comfortable and sleep better."

With the baby in Jeonghan's arms, you both returned to the apartment, the weight of her advice hanging over you. You dropped everything you were carrying onto the floor, grateful when you noticed she’d even given you a small container of side dishes. You quickly stored them in the fridge while Jeonghan sat down, still rocking the baby gently in his arms.

"You should sleep," Jeonghan said after a few minutes. "I’ll watch the baby for now."

Without a second thought, you hummed in agreement, too tired to argue. You leaned over and gave Jeonghan a quick, tired kiss on the cheek as thanks before dashing off to your bedroom, ready to collapse. Jeonghan rolled his eyes with a smirk, though the small gesture made him chuckle.

As the door to your bedroom clicked shut, Jeonghan looked down at the baby, who had finally stopped fussing. “Well, it’s just you and me now, little guy,” he muttered, gently swaying from side to side. Exhaustion pulled at him, too, but the baby’s small face, now peaceful, kept him focused.

He yawned. "I need sleep as much as you do, buddy," he said softly, but continued rocking the baby, hoping the rhythmic motion would send him—and maybe himself—into a peaceful sleep.

*

Days of raising a baby you didn’t make—a running joke between you and Jeonghan to keep your sanity—were slowly becoming more manageable. The sleeping schedule was still a mess, but somehow, the two of you had adapted. You had even begun to master it. The real hero in your eyes, though, was Mrs. Moon, your neighbor, who had not only been babysitting but also offering wisdom, keeping both of you sane as you navigated this new, unexpected life.

One night, after a week of taking care of “Baby”—what you’d both started calling the little one—you and Jeonghan collapsed onto the couch. Baby lay peacefully in the rocking bed Mrs. Moon had lent you, her granddaughter's old one.

As you both sat there, half-delirious from exhaustion, the conversation inevitably shifted to the cost of suddenly having a baby around—mentally, physically, and especially financially.

“No wonder people in Korea aren’t having kids anymore,” you mused aloud, running a hand through your hair. “It’s a lot.”

Jeonghan, sprawled on the couch beside you, hummed in agreement. “I mean, it’s not news. Everyone knows how hard it is.”

“I’m so tired,” he said, his voice dripping with fatigue. “Like, mentally drained. All I want is to down five bottles of soju and just... disappear for a bit.”

You nodded, feeling the same way. “Right? I should be at a club right now, dancing, living my best life—maybe even finding someone to date,” you mumbled half-jokingly, staring at the ceiling.

Jeonghan turned his head to you, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to find the love of your life at a club?”

You shrugged, barely amused. “It doesn’t have to be love, you know... could just be, you know—distraction,” you said, hinting at something more casual.

Jeonghan gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Cheap,” he teased, his eyes wide in mock judgment.

You swatted his arm, your voice dropping to a whisper, trying not to wake Baby. “I lost my virginity at 22! I wasn’t that cheap,” you hissed, more amused than angry.

Jeonghan burst into soft laughter, knowing full well you were just messing around. He’d known you for too long to take any of this seriously. “I’m just saying... you don’t exactly scream ‘wild-child looking for a one-night stand.’”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling under your breath. “Yeah, well, I could surprise you.”

“Uh-huh,” Jeonghan replied, still smiling. He glanced over at Baby, who remained peacefully asleep, and then back at you.

“When was the last time you had it? With Joshua?” Jeonghan asked, breaking into personal territory the two of you rarely ventured. He was referring to your ex, the American-Korean guy who had ended things when he had to leave the country.

You hummed thoughtfully, rubbing your face. “Honestly? I think I’ve forgotten how it even felt,” you admitted, casting a sideways glance at him. “What about you?”

Jeonghan leaned back, scoffing slightly. “With my last ex, obviously. I’m not some playboy, Y/N, no matter what you think,” he replied, sounding a bit annoyed by the label you often teased him with.

You smirked, resting your chin on your hand. “Was it hard? You know, to only do it with a few people?”

He nodded, glancing at you seriously. “Yeah. I only ever do it when I’m emotionally attached to someone.”

Your eyebrow quirked up. “Like when you did it with me?” you asked, playfully hinting at that one time between you two.

Jeonghan’s gaze shifted toward you, a small, knowing smile forming as he nodded slowly. “Yup. Including you.”

For a brief moment, the air felt heavier between you, the shared history lingering in the silence. But then, as always, the familiarity between you and Jeonghan smoothed over any tension, settling the moment into a comfortable memory rather than an awkward one.

*

“You want me to what?” Jeonghan asked, his tone laced with disbelief as he stood frozen by the door, still in his campus jacket.

He had just returned from a long day filled with senior-year responsibilities, juggling group projects and graduation prep. Lately, the two of you had barely exchanged more than a few words, with both your schedules completely packed. You were interning at an American-Korean company, and by the time you got home, you’d make a beeline straight to your room, too exhausted for much interaction.

“Please, Jeonghan,” you pleaded, sitting on the couch with clasped hands. “I don’t know who else to ask. I only trust you.”

Jeonghan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He always knew you could be impulsive, but this? This was next-level.

“It’s not something casual, Y/N,” he said, shaking his head as if trying to comprehend what he was hearing. “It’s... complicated. You seriously want me to take your virginity?”

You pouted, your eyes wide with a mixture of desperation and resolve. “It’ll be a one-time thing,” you assured him. “I promise it won’t change anything between us. I won’t treat you differently.”

Jeonghan groaned, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn. “We’ve been friends for eight years,” he reminded you, his voice soft but serious. “What if it doesn’t go well? What happens then? Where am I supposed to live? Are we just going to keep splitting rent and pretend nothing happened?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, amused that he was worried about the rent in such a moment. “It won’t change anything. I swear.”

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. He wanted to make sure you understood what you were asking for, that you were truly serious about this.

“I’m serious, Jeonghan,” you added softly, your voice more determined now.

He sighed again, his internal conflict clear. “You know this could get messy, right?”

You nodded, eyes unwavering. “I trust you.”

Jeonghan sat down beside you, still visibly unsure but also knowing that in all the years you had been friends, you had always been honest with each other.

After a long, tense pause, he finally spoke. “Alright. If you’re absolutely sure about this...”

*

The two of you took half a day off work, though the morning had started as any other. While you were still in your tank top, getting ready for the day, a knock on the door interrupted your routine. Thinking it was Mrs. Moon, you casually opened the door, only to be met by a police officer.

"Mr. Yoon? Are you Ms. Yoon?" the officer asked.

Caught off guard, you quickly excused yourself to change, leaving Jeonghan to greet the officer. When you rejoined them in the living room, the officer handed both of you a document.

"It's about the report you filed last week regarding the abandoned baby," the officer explained. "We apologize for the delay, but we've since received information about a missing person—a woman in her twenties who disappeared along with her infant."

You and Jeonghan exchanged looks, tension building in the room.

"So, we'd like you to bring the baby to the station. We'll meet with the family to confirm if the baby is theirs."

Later, at the police station, the baby was confirmed to be the missing woman's son, just two months old. The officer showed you and Jeonghan footage of a woman carrying the same baby box, wandering near your apartment complex before leaving it behind. While you weren’t given the full details about the mother, the footage left no doubt.

It was an unexpected turn of events, but also a relief.

“No more baby to babysit,” Jeonghan remarked on your way to work, a mix of exhaustion and amusement in his tone.

You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of the last few days finally lifting. “We should get Mrs. Moon that apple mango she’s been wanting,” you said, your voice light. Jeonghan made a mental note, closing his eyes as he leaned back in the car seat.

Finally, peace was coming—real peace, and not just the brief moments of quiet between diaper changes and late-night feedings.

"I'm sorry to ask, but I just want to make sure—are you two married?" The officer's tone was polite but curious.

Both you and Jeonghan shook your heads simultaneously. "No, we're not. We're just roommates," Jeonghan replied, a hint of amusement in his voice as he glanced at you.

The officer nodded thoughtfully, taking in your response before offering a friendly smile. "Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any further questions or information, don’t hesitate to reach out."

As the officer turned to leave, you and Jeonghan stood in front of the company building, the bustling city life continuing around you. The weight of the past week was beginning to fade, replaced by a sense of relief.

Jeonghan let out a small chuckle, breaking the momentary silence. "Can you imagine what it would have been like if we had been married? The rumors would have been wild!"

You laughed, shaking your head at the thought. "Thank goodness for our status as roommates, then. At least it keeps things simple."

With a shared smile, you both stepped into the building, ready to face the day ahead—less burdened by the unexpected chaos and more in tune with each other than ever.

*

You arrived home a little later than usual, the warmth of the evening lingering around you. After a lively team dinner filled with laughter and a few glasses of soju, you decided to take a cab home, the comforting thought of Jeonghan waiting, to take care of the drunk you, made the ride feel shorter.

As you stepped inside, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Jeonghan was slouched on the couch, drinking alone and engrossed in a variety show. The table in front of him was a chaotic scene of five bottles of soju and a box of fried chicken.

"You really have five bottles of soju?" you muttered, you sobered up from your own six glasses as the reality of the situation sank in.

"Hey, want to join?" Jeonghan offered, a lazy grin spreading across his face when he finally noticed your presence.

"You weren't joking when you said you would drink five bottles of soju," you replied, taking a seat beside him and pouring a shot of the clear liquid into a glass that had been left untouched, took in in one shot.

"Chill, girl. Did anyone bother you there?" Jeonghan asked, his words slightly slurred, yet still managing to express genuine concern.

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch. "Not really. But some higher-ups still made me pour drinks for them."

Jeonghan furrowed his brow, his expression shifting from playful to serious. Though he was clearly drunk, he was fighting to stay focused. "Which man should oppa kick his ass today?" he asked, referring to himself with a playful tone.

You chuckled, knowing how much he enjoyed the title. "Jeong Kiha," you mentioned, naming the vice president, which caught him by surprise.

"He came to your team dinner? That's rare," Jeonghan said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can’t help you there; he’s my boss as well."

You leaned in, amused by the whole situation. "What would you even do if you could? Challenge him to a drinking contest?"

"Absolutely! I’d take him down for you," he declared with exaggerated bravado, raising his glass in a mock toast. “But let’s be honest, I might need more practice after five bottles.”

"But if he bothered you, I might just have to make it personal." He continued.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Personal, huh? What do you have in mind?"

With a playful glint in his eye, Jeonghan leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I could always take you out. Just the two of us. A more... intimate setting.”

Your heart raced at the suggestion, the alcohol fueling your boldness. "Intimate, you say? What would that look like, Jeonghan?"

"Maybe a cozy little restaurant where we can share more than just food and drinks," he teased, inching even closer. "I could help you unwind after your stuffy dinners with the higher-ups. Just you and me, no distractions."

A flutter of excitement surged through you. “And what else would we do, hmm?” you played along, your voice low and inviting.

Jeonghan smirked, leaning back slightly, eyes dancing with mischief. "I can think of a few ways to help you relieve some stress. You know, like teaching you how to really enjoy your drinks."

You laughed, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Is that your idea of a fun night? Getting me drunk so you can have your way with me?”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone turning serious for a moment. “But only if you want it, too. I wouldn’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

His sincerity was disarming, and the tension hung in the air, electric. “You know, it’s tempting,” you admitted, meeting his gaze. “Very tempting.”

Jeonghan grinned, raising his glass again. “Then let’s toast to temptation and see where the night takes us.”

You clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment, both of you fully aware that this night could lead to something unexpected—and perhaps a little dangerous.

*

Jeonghan knew he was screwed the moment you asked him to take your virginity. The eight-year crush he had nurtured for you transformed into something much more profound once he kissed you for the first time. It felt right—like the universe had aligned in that single, electric moment. Your lips tasted sweet, like vanilla; maybe it was the chapstick you always used, or perhaps it was simply how you tasted. Either way, it was everything he had fantasized about.

He touched you with a gentleness that belied the whirlwind of emotions inside him, laying you down on his bed, because you didn't want to mess up your own. Watching your face shift through various expressions as he explored you sent shivers down his spine. He couldn’t believe you were under him, something that the adolescent version of himself would have dreamt about while fantasizing in the dark, his hand working over his shaft as he thought of you.

The day after he took your virginity, you kept your promise, treating him as a friend and nothing more. And that, honestly, was the most disappointing part for him. While you moved on as if nothing had changed, his feelings remained steadfast, unwavering in their intensity. Eight years had passed since that night, yet his heart still raced at the thought of you.

Now, sitting beside you, he was acutely aware of the space that had grown between you, filled with unspoken words and lingering touches. Jeonghan leaned in, cupping your cheeks in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his palms. His heart pounded as he captured your lips with his once more. After all these years, you were still as sweet as he remembered, and the taste sent him spiraling back to that first kiss, igniting the flame that had never truly faded.

In that moment, all the years of friendship, all the laughter and shared memories, faded into the background. The only thing that mattered was the soft connection between your lips and the lingering sensation of what could be. He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes for any sign of what you were feeling.

“Do you ever think about that night?” he whispered, vulnerability creeping into his voice.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering with uncertainty. “I try not to,” you admitted, your tone light but edged with honesty. “I didn’t want things to change between us.”

“And yet, here we are,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I never stopped wanting you.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air, and you could feel the tension between you shifting. Jeonghan’s heart raced, hopeful yet anxious, waiting for your response. Would you finally see him for more than just a friend?

You met his gaze, a mix of emotions dancing in your eyes. “What do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s figure it out together,” he replied, closing the distance again, this time with a sense of urgency and purpose.

Jeonghan pulled you onto his lap, his hands roaming over every contour of your body, exploring the soft curves he had admired for so long. You kissed him with a passion that felt life-altering, pouring every ounce of desire and longing into that moment. The heat radiating between you ignited something primal in him—the idea that you wanted him just as fiercely as he wanted you was intoxicating.

He carefully unbuttoned your blouse, mindful that you would scold him if he broke even one button. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers gliding over your bare skin, teasing your breast while his lips trailed kisses along your neck, igniting every nerve ending.

“J—Jeonghan…” A moan escaped your lips, and the sound sent shivers down his spine as he marked your neck with his lips, claiming you in ways that made his heart race. “I got you, baby. I got you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

Your top lay discarded, and in a frenzy of desire, Jeonghan couldn’t even remember when he had removed it. He lifted your skirt, grabbing your ass as he kissed you deeply, pouring all his pent-up longing into that one kiss. He guided your hands to the hem of his t-shirt, encouraging you to strip him of his clothes. Your fingers traveled across his bare chest, and he let out a soft whimper at your touch, the sensation igniting a fire within him. This was the moment he had been waiting for—finally feeling your skin against his, a craving he had long held.

“Can you feel that?” he asked, thrusting his hips upward to let you feel how hard you made him. He noticed your cheeks tinting with a lovely blush at the revelation. “That’s how you make me, baby.”

He laid you back onto the couch, lifting your skirt higher until your thighs and underwear were fully exposed to him. One of his hands found its way to your breast, overwhelming you with sensations, while the other traveled lower, exploring your core beneath the thin, damp fabric that clung to you.

“You’re so wet, baby. And it’s all for me,” Jeonghan whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he nibbled on it playfully, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His tongue painted a path along your neck, igniting every nerve ending with desire.

“I need you, Jeonghan,” you whimpered under his skilled touch, desperation lacing your voice. But he hushed you with a passionate kiss, drowning your pleas in the heat of the moment.

“Be patient, baby… Just a little longer,” he replied, his voice a tantalizing promise as he continued to explore every inch of you, savoring the sweetness of your body and the thrill of this intimate connection.

He watched you gasp as he slid one of his fingers inside you, pulling it out slowly while your walls clenched around him. A smirk crept onto his face when you pleaded for more, and he was more than happy to oblige, moving his finger skillfully.

“Is it like the first time? When I fingered you, is it like what I did to you eight years ago?” Jeonghan teased, his voice low and sultry. You whimpered under him, craving everything he had to give.

“It feels amazing. Always.” You struggled to mutter the words, the pleasure overwhelming you as Jeonghan added another finger.

“You’re so tight, baby. I’m not sure you can take me well,” he breathed out, his fingers moving faster, each thrust eliciting a wince as you felt a pooling sensation deep in your tummy.

“I—I can, please… J—Jeonghan…” Your arms pulled him closer, your lips pouting for a kiss, and he obliged immediately, his lips capturing yours while his fingers continued their delicious torment.

“I want to cum,” you mumbled between kisses, and Jeonghan smirked against your lips. “Give it to me, baby.”

He could feel you tightening around his fingers, your body responding to him in a way that made his heart race. He pistoned his fingers with a brutal pace, feeling the pulsating tension building in your core. A loud moan escaped your lips, followed by your first orgasm with him after eight long years, and it was all for his fingers. The thought sent a surge of excitement through him; he couldn’t wait to make you cum with everything he had.

Withdrawing his fingers, he licked them clean, his gaze locked onto your blissed-out expression, riding high from the waves of pleasure he had just given you.

Without a word, he scooped you up from the couch and carried you to his bedroom. In one swift motion, he threw you onto the bed, his desire palpable as he pulled down his pants and joined you.

With an impatient urgency, he hovered over you, lips meeting in a heated kiss that spoke volumes of the longing built up over the years. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as your bodies melted into one another, igniting the passion that had simmered beneath the surface for so long.

"You want me raw or…?" Jeonghan asked, his voice low and filled with anticipation. His question sent a jolt through you, darkening your gaze as you whispered, "Raw." It was a bold confession, one that set the stage for everything that followed. "Just so you know, I’m on the pill."

He swore he could have died right in your arms at your admission, the thrill of it igniting something primal within him. As your hand traveled down to his abs, you let your fingers tease his skin for a moment before they finally grasped his hardened cock.

“Oh my god—” Jeonghan choked at your touch, his breath hitching. The smirk on your lips told him you were acutely aware of the effect you had on him, and it only intensified his desire.

“Put it in, please,” you begged, your voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. Jeonghan nodded, leaning in for one last, lingering kiss before he positioned himself, rubbing the tip against your slick entrance, feeling the heat radiating from you.

“Don’t tease,” you urged, your hand playfully pinching his arm, and he chuckled softly, the sound filled with desire.

With a teasing smile, Jeonghan finally pushed his member into your tight heat. He gasped at the overwhelming sensation, feeling you envelop him completely. Every inch of you was warm and inviting, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him, and he knew this was only the beginning.

He stilled inside of you, wanting you to adjust him for moment. You motioned him to move, a whimpered escaped his mouth as he pushed deeper to you slowly. Your walls clenching him tightly, pulling him deeper and making his head spinning. He pulled slowly before his hips thrusting, hitting you right, gaining a sensual moan from you.

"Keep it down, baby. Don’t want Mrs. Moon to hear us," Jeonghan murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he pushed deeper inside you.

"Faster, Jeonghan…" you breathed out the words, your voice a desperate plea laced with urgency. The thrill of being so close, yet so vulnerable, sent your pulse racing.

He obeyed, quickening his pace as he filled you completely, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself amidst the intoxicating sensations.

The bed creaked beneath you. Jeonghan’s lips found yours again, silencing any sounds that threatened to escape, kissing you fiercely as if to drown out everything but the two of you.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he watched your expression morph from pleasure to pure ecstasy. "I’ve wanted this for so long."

You responded with a whimper, the sound echoing in the small space, and you felt the heat pooling in your core grow stronger with each thrust. "I want you to finish inside me, Jeonghan. Please," you begged, your words spilling out in a breathless rush.

His breath hitched at your request, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of control. "You’re going to make me lose it," he warned, voice thick with need. But the fire in your eyes only urged him on, driving him to give you everything he had.

"Then let go, baby. I’m ready," you encouraged, your body arching against him, meeting his thrusts with fervor. The world outside faded away as you lost yourselves in each other, the only sound filling the room being the rush of your breaths and the soft, wet sounds of your bodies moving together.

With one final, deep thrust, Jeonghan buried himself inside you, his body tensing as he let go, the pleasure washing over him like a tidal wave. You followed right behind him, your body tightening around him as your climax hit, drawing out every last bit of ecstasy from both of you.

As you both came down from the high, he collapsed beside you, breathless and spent, while you curled into his side, feeling a mix of satisfaction and disbelief at how far you had come.

“That was... Amazing?” you said, your voice breathless but filled with satisfaction. The choice of word earned a tired laugh from Jeonghan, who could sense your smile before you leaned against his chest, the warmth between you still lingering in the air.

Jeonghan, his heart still racing from the intensity of what had just happened, felt a wave of heat creep up his cheeks. He couldn’t hide the flush staining his skin, and in an attempt to conceal it, he covered his face with his arm, laughing softly. You shifted, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes, clearly enjoying his sudden bashfulness.

“Where’s the confident, cocky Jeonghan I know?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at his uncharacteristic shyness.

Without missing a beat, Jeonghan pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He rested his chin on the top of your head, refusing to let you see just how red he had become. It was rare for him to feel this flustered, but there was something about being with you that turned his usual bravado into something far more vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the words muffled against your hair.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. “Sorry? For what?”

“I just... I can’t help it,” Jeonghan confessed softly, his voice almost shy. “I—I really like you. It’s been driving me crazy for years, and now that it’s all out in the open... I’m still not sure how to act.”

His confession felt light, as if every action, every kiss, every touch was its own declaration of the feelings he had been holding onto for so long. Saying it aloud didn’t feel like it added anything new, but he needed you to hear it anyway.

You felt his heart beating faster under your palm, and instinctively, you tightened your hold on him. “I... I really like you too. Honestly, I don’t even know when it started, but after all these years, I finally have the courage to admit it. I don’t just like you, Jeonghan. I love you.”

Your words hung in the air between you, sweet and sincere, filling the room with a warmth that rivaled any physical closeness. Jeonghan’s heart soared at your confession, a feeling of complete contentment washing over him. He had dreamed of this moment for years, but nothing could have prepared him for how real and incredible it felt to finally hear you say it.

You chuckled softly, resting your head back against his chest. “You really should’ve told me earlier, you know,” you teased, playfully poking at his side. “Like... earlier earlier.”

*

You watched the football game on the field, your eyes catching a lanky boy with long hair, dribbling the ball as if his life depended on it. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, and it was hard not to be impressed.

"Who's that?" you asked one of your friends, pointing toward the boy, curiosity getting the better of you.

"That? Yoon Jeonghan," they replied casually, as though everyone already knew his name.

Days later, you found yourself standing in front of Jeonghan's desk, clutching your math homework nervously. He was deep in conversation with his friends, his usual calm demeanor unshaken by the chatter around him. Mustering up your courage, you pulled the book from your bag and held it out to him.

"Teach me math! I heard you're the best," you declared boldly, your heart racing, half-expecting him to brush you off.

[queenie-avenue]

Live fast, die young, bad boys do it well.

💌 ⤻ CLARKE MEADOWS, THE HOCKEY PLAYER

—> he's loved the ice since he was a kid, but maybe he can love you too.

⤻ reader is female, yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour, thoughts of killing, small gore, obsessive behaviour, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol, set in a university (all 18+), identity crisis moment lolol, [h/n] is hobby name

The first time he met you was at a party. He couldn't exactly remember what you were doing, you were one of those people that were irrelevant to him. Whether you were dancing with your friends and screaming to the music of the party or slumped in a corner, restless and alone, he didn't know. All he knew was that some people talked about you and he registered your name into one of those in his mind.

He was an asshole like that, he supposed. Or maybe he didn't care. He didn't care because his only care in the world, should be Hockey.

His Father was a hockey player and he wanted to live up to that expectation. He wanted to surpass him in both fame and skill and that was his whole identity. His identity was tied to this sport.

His friends? People from his hockey team.

His girlfriends? Didn't really have any, but his requirement for being his girlfriend was that she needed to always come to watch his games.

Even his popularity was all intrinsically tied to his sport. Everyone knew him as the guy who became Captain of the Hockey team in just one year of joining.

The guy who everyone knew would be in the big leagues, up there with Nathan MacKinnon and Seth Jones.

He was so close to being signed on with a team.

Everything was about hockey, before everything became about you.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

Sure, Clarke Meadows knew about you. But he didn't know about you.

Not until that day you stumbled on him inside one of the rooms of the frat house he was in. You had simply wanted to take a piss somewhere and since the toilets not connected to the bedrooms were all taken, probably from pent-up teenagers and people who were vomiting from all the alcohol and decided to take your luck and pray no one was inside blowing each other's backs out.

Even if they were, you honestly could overlook it for the sake of being able to finally relieve yourself.

That's when you stumbled upon his sad self.

He sprawled onto the bed, a spilled bottle of beer falling from his hands with a soft clink before rolling to the other bottles of miscellaneous alcohol strewn all over the floor. Your first instinct was to be worried because with the amount this dude was drinking, he could be suffering from food poisoning.

You made your way towards him and sat on the bed. "Hey, hey!" You called out, trying to wake him up by shaking him, worried that he had passed out or even worst, died.

He groaned and swatted your hands away like a baby being disturbed. "What the hell do you want?" He growled out, surprisingly hostile when he had always been somewhat polite to everyone around him. Just as he didn't know you, you didn't know him.

"Are you okay?" You asked, irregardless of his tone.

"Fuck... yes, I'm fine!" He snapped at you, covering his face as you noticed something sparkling in the dim lighting of the room. Tears? "Just quit being so loud." He told you. He must have drunk a lot for your whispers to be considered loud in his ears.

"No one drinks that much or starts crying when they're drunk because they're fine." You retorted as you watched him wipe away the tears on his face before sitting up. His drunk eyes focused on you, on your blurry figure and body. But your face seemed to be the clearest of them all. Your eyes, your lips, your eyebrows and cheekbones, everything shone as bright as the sun.

"You wouldn't get it." He said.

"Try me." You didn't know why you said that.

And perhaps out of drunken vulnerability, he replied, even when he didn't know why he did it. "Just... what am I supposed to do with my life?" He murmured.

You raised an eyebrow at his words. Wasn't he like some popular hockey dude? "Your hockey, I guess? I heard you like it." You said, completely forgetting about your need to pee.

"No, I don't- I don't know what I want. Besides my hockey, what else do I have?" He asked and your eyes widened at his words. What else did you know about Clarke Meadows beside his hockey skills? You tried to think. He liked hockey... he was popular and... yeah, you couldn't think, especially with all that alcohol stocked up in your mind.

"You have free will, you know." You reminded him.

"But then, my hockey." He slurred, like a baby.

"Is anyone holding you at gunpoint to only play hockey?" You asked.

"N-no." He murmured, as if his eyes have been opened.

"Then try new things, see where it takes you." You said as you dusted your skirt off and sighed. "No one can force you to do things you don't want to do."

"But I do like hockey." Oh my God, you wanted to just smack him over the head right now, he was acting like such a baby. "I love it. It's my whole life." You almost felt jealous of the sport. No one had ever said 'I love you' in such a way to you before.

"You can love different hobbies. We aren't like robots tuned into one thing. I like [h/n], but I also like [h/n]." You informed him. His dark blue eyes pierced into your [e/c] ones and you paused just to admire him. Gods, was he pretty. He was such a pretty boy it almost made you feel jealous that his face wasn't yours. "An- anyway," you felt embarrassed for imparting advice when you weren't even that smart, "just think about it. I'm not forcing you to try new stuff either. Ultimately, it's your choice." You flustered and eventually went to the bathroom after remembering your urges.

When you came out, he was already gone.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

For the next few days, you felt eyes on you. Dark blues one, but you didn't know that. You stopped going home alone every night after your later classes and you started carrying pepper spray with you as an extra precaution. Yet, every time you turned around, you couldn't see anyone following you.

You even felt it when you were resting in the university's courtyard.

Of course, as the readers of this fic knows, it was Clarke Meadows.

Sure, your words were cheesy and kind of cringe but you made him feel seen, outside of his talents. Maybe it was by accident, but in the world, there were no accidents, just fate. And he decided that it was fate to have met you and be comforted by you. You didn't need to do this but you did anyway, and he had grown completely smitten for you.

He collected a pen that fell from your bag, he bought perfumes, shampoos, body wash, conditioners that smelled like you just so he could wash himself with them and convince himself the scent was from his dreams of cuddling next to you. He collected the trash that you threw, putting them in a ziplog bag like a complete freak and dumpster diver. He followed you home to ensure no unsavoury people were stalking you... which was ironic. He even kept watch for you whenever he could during your lunch times.

When you talked to another person, he thought of all the different ways he could slam his hockey stick into their head or shins. He imagined how it would be like to be bloody and have you wipe away the red. He wanted to kiss you while he enveloped you in the blood of his rivals.

But for now, he'd be a silent protector, by your side.

"Don't worry, my saviour, I'll keep you safe."

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You trip a little because you were too busy staring at your crush (Part.1)

Your admiration for your crush causes you to trip, highlighting the awkward yet endearing dynamics between you two.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue & Erik Lehnsherr

Logan (Wolverine)

The day had started like any other at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. You were heading down the long hallway leading to the training rooms, trying to focus on the list of tasks Professor Xavier had assigned for the day. But as you turned the corner, there he was—Logan, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, muscles tense under his usual rugged leather jacket. His eyes, always intense and piercing, followed your every move as you approached.

Your heart skipped a beat, and though you tried to stay composed, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on him a little longer than you should have. His dark hair was tousled just right, and his rough, rugged features seemed impossibly handsome in the dim light of the hallway. You’d always tried to play it cool around Logan, but the truth was you found him irresistible—his gruff attitude, the way he carried himself with quiet authority, and that raw intensity that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

You caught yourself staring too long and quickly looked away, pretending to adjust the strap of your bag. But it was too late. In your distracted state, you missed a small crack in the tile beneath your feet and tripped, stumbling forward with a small yelp.

Before you could hit the floor, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you. Your breath hitched as you realized Logan had caught you, his grip firm and secure. You looked up, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you met his smirking gaze.

“Y’alright, darlin’?” Logan asked, his deep voice laced with amusement.

You could feel the heat rise to your face, desperately trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… wasn’t paying attention.”

His smirk widened as he released you, letting his hand linger on your waist just a second longer than necessary. “Seems like you were payin’ attention to somethin’, just not where you were goin’.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “I wasn’t—” you started to protest but stopped yourself. There was no point in denying it. Logan had caught you staring, and there was no way to take it back now.

Logan chuckled low in his throat, his eyes darkening as they flicked over your face. “S’okay, darlin’. I don’t mind the attention.” He winked at you, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “Just be careful next time, or I might not be around to catch ya.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the flustered smile threatening to break free. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you said softly, your voice betraying the nervous excitement coursing through you.

Logan gave you one last smirk before turning and walking away, leaving you standing in the hallway, your heart racing and your mind spinning. You could still feel the warmth of his hand on your waist, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he held you like that for more than just a moment.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

The evening sun bathed the mansion’s garden in a warm golden glow, casting long shadows across the grass. You were walking toward the small patio where the team had gathered after a long day, your mind racing with a million thoughts. Most of those thoughts, however, were focused on one man—Remy LeBeau, the smooth-talking, devilishly handsome Cajun who had been stealing glances your way for weeks now.

You’d always prided yourself on keeping your emotions in check, but something about Remy made that impossible. His effortless charm, the way his deep, accented voice could make even the most mundane conversation feel like a flirtation, and those smoldering red-on-black eyes that seemed to see right through you—it was all too much.

As you approached the patio, your eyes immediately sought him out, and there he was, sitting casually on the edge of a chair, flipping a playing card between his fingers with practiced ease. He was talking to Rogue, but his gaze flicked up to meet yours the moment you stepped into view. A slow, knowing smile spread across his lips, and your heart skipped a beat.

You quickly looked away, trying to steady your breathing. You knew he’d caught you staring, and you cursed yourself for being so obvious. Determined to play it cool, you focused on the path ahead, but your thoughts were still filled with Remy—his charming smile, the way he seemed to light up any room he walked into, and the way your stomach fluttered every time he was near.

Your focus wavered for just a second, and suddenly, your foot caught on the edge of a stone step. You stumbled forward with a gasp, arms flailing as you tried to catch yourself, but before you could hit the ground, a pair of strong hands caught you, steadying you.

“Careful, chérie,” Remy’s voice drawled softly in your ear. “Wouldn’t want ya to hurt yourself.”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you looked up at him, his face far too close for comfort. He was grinning down at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he helped you straighten up.

“I—uh, thanks,” you stammered, your heart racing.

Remy chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he released you. “No need to thank me, mon amour. But I gotta say, I like that you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words got stuck in your throat. You could see the playful glint in his eyes, and it was impossible to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that.

“I wasn’t—” you started, but he cut you off with a wink.

“No need to be shy, chérie. I know a good look when I see one.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And I don’t mind one bit.”

Your pulse quickened at the heat in his gaze, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of anything clever to say. His hand lingered on your arm, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he touched you more than just casually.

Before you could respond, Remy stepped back, his trademark grin still in place. “You gonna join us, or you just gonna stand there starin’ at me all night?”

With one last smirk, he turned and walked back to the group, leaving you standing there, heart pounding, and wondering just how long you could keep hiding your feelings for him.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

The atmosphere in the mansion was lively today, with the team bustling about, preparing for their next mission. You were sitting in the library, enjoying a rare moment of peace, flipping through a book while trying to calm your racing thoughts. But it wasn’t the mission that had your heart pounding. It was Kurt—Kurt Wagner, the sweet, charming man who had been occupying your thoughts more and more lately.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you found yourself drawn to him in a way that surprised even you. His kind heart, his gentle nature, and that infectious laugh of his—it was impossible not to fall for him. But more than that, you loved the way Kurt treated you. He was always respectful, always kind, but there was an underlying tension between you two, a connection you hadn’t yet acknowledged.

You sighed, trying to focus on the words in front of you, but your mind kept drifting to the memory of Kurt’s smile, the way his bright yellow eyes seemed to light up whenever he saw you. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the soft *bamf* of Kurt teleporting into the room until he was suddenly standing right in front of you.

“Guten Tag!” Kurt greeted cheerfully, flashing you that warm, heart-melting smile of his.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you looked up, startled. “Oh! Hey, Kurt,” you said, quickly closing the book and hoping he hadn’t noticed the way you’d been daydreaming about him.

Kurt tilted his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You looked deep in thought, meine freundin. I hope I did not disturb you.”

You shook your head quickly, offering him a smile. “No, not at all. I was just… thinking.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Thinking about anything—or anyone—in particular?”

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you quickly averted your gaze, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Just… stuff.”

Kurt chuckled softly, his tail flicking back and forth as he moved closer. “Well, I hope it was pleasant thoughts,” he said, his voice gentle and full of warmth.

You looked up at him, and for a moment, your heart fluttered at the way his eyes seemed to glow with kindness. He always had that effect on you, making you feel comfortable and at ease, even when you were a bundle of nerves around him.

But as you tried to stand up, your foot caught on the edge of the chair, and you stumbled forward, nearly falling face-first into Kurt’s chest. His arms were around you in an instant, steadying you before you could hit the ground.

“Vorsicht!” he exclaimed, his hands warm and firm on your waist. “I’ve got you.”

You felt your face heat up with embarrassment as you looked up at him, your heart pounding from both the near-fall and the sudden proximity. His yellow eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. His hands lingered on your waist a little longer than necessary, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same magnetic pull that you were.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, trying to pull yourself together. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Kurt smiled softly, his thumb gently brushing your waist as he held you. “It’s quite alright. But you must be careful, meine freundin, or I might have to catch you more often.”

You laughed nervously, your heart racing. “I’ll try to avoid any more near-falls.”

But instead of pulling away, Kurt’s gaze softened, his fingers still resting against your waist. “Perhaps I wouldn’t mind if you needed catching every now and then.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and for a brief moment, you felt as though the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you standing there, inches apart, with something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Before you could say anything, Kurt cleared his throat, breaking the moment as he slowly released his hold on you. “I suppose we should both watch where we’re going, ja?”

You nodded, still trying to shake off the lingering warmth from his touch. “Yeah… yeah, we should.”

Kurt smiled at you one last time before teleporting away in a cloud of smoke, leaving you standing there, heart pounding and mind spinning, wondering if you’d ever be brave enough to admit how you felt.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

The X-Mansion was always a whirlwind of activity, and today was no different. You were making your way through the training center, trying to stay focused on the drills the team had been practicing, but it was impossible to ignore the tall, composed figure of Scott Summers—your team leader, and the one person who seemed to occupy your thoughts more often than not.

Scott was always so serious, so focused on his responsibilities as leader, that it sometimes made it difficult to get a read on how he felt about anything outside of missions. But over the past few weeks, there had been moments—fleeting glances, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you—that made you wonder if there was something more beneath that stoic exterior.

You were lost in thought, your mind running through every interaction you’d had with Scott, when you spotted him across the training floor, arms crossed and eyes hidden behind those ever-present ruby quartz glasses. He was watching the team closely, but the moment your eyes landed on him, he looked up, locking onto you with a gaze that felt more intense than it had any right to be.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly averted your gaze, focusing on anything but the way Scott’s attention made your pulse race. But in your distraction, you misjudged the distance between you and a training obstacle and promptly tripped over a piece of equipment, stumbling forward with a startled yelp.

You didn’t even have time to hit the ground before Scott was at your side, catching you with surprising swiftness. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up before you could completely lose your balance.

“Careful,” he said in that calm, authoritative voice of his. “You alright?”

You nodded quickly, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks as you realized just how close you were to him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… wasn’t paying attention.”

Scott’s grip on your arm was firm but gentle, and for a moment, you felt the tension between you, the unspoken attraction that you’d both been trying to ignore. He held you just a little longer than necessary, his gaze focused on you even though his eyes were hidden behind his visor.

“You should be more careful,” Scott said, his voice softening ever so slightly. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Your breath caught at the concern in his voice, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more behind his words. “I’ll try to be,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Scott gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile before finally letting go, stepping back and giving you the space you needed to collect yourself. But as he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you—that maybe, just maybe, Scott Summers felt the same way you did.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

The sky outside the mansion was a brilliant blue, the kind of day that seemed to radiate peace and beauty—much like the woman who controlled the weather. Ororo Munroe, with her regal posture and serene presence, had always been someone you admired, not just for her powers but for the way she carried herself with such grace and strength.

Over time, though, admiration had turned into something deeper. You found yourself drawn to her warmth, her wisdom, and the quiet moments you shared together. But you were always too afraid to say anything, afraid that admitting your feelings would somehow disturb the delicate balance between you.

Today was no different. You were walking through the mansion grounds, heading toward the greenhouse where Ororo often spent her time. The sun was warm on your skin, and as you approached, you spotted her among the flowers, her silver hair catching the light like a halo.

For a moment, you just watched her, captivated by the way she seemed to blend so effortlessly with nature, her beauty almost ethereal. You were so lost in the sight of her that you didn’t even notice the uneven ground beneath your feet. Your toe caught on a rock, and you stumbled forward with an awkward flail of your arms.

Ororo looked up just in time to see you trip, and before you could recover, she was at your side, her hand catching your arm with a gentle but steady grip.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice soft and soothing, like a summer breeze.

You quickly straightened up, trying to laugh off your clumsiness. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Ororo smiled, her hand lingering on your arm as she looked at you with those calm, knowing eyes. “It seems you were lost in thought,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of teasing warmth.

You swallowed hard, your heart fluttering at the way her gaze seemed to see right through you. “I guess I was,” you admitted, unable to look away from her.

Ororo’s smile widened slightly as she finally released your arm, stepping back but still close enough that you could feel the warmth of her presence. “Be careful,” she said, her tone playful yet kind. “I would hate for you to fall again.”

You nodded, your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but there was something in Ororo’s eyes that made you wonder if she knew exactly what—or rather, who—you had been thinking about.

Jean Grey

The mansion was quiet, most of the team off on various missions or training exercises. You found yourself in the library, trying to focus on the book in front of you, but your mind kept wandering to Jean Grey—the powerful telepath who had slowly become the center of your thoughts.

Jean had always been kind to you, her warmth and compassion making her easy to talk to. But as time passed, you began to realize that your feelings for her went far beyond friendship. You admired her strength, her beauty, and the quiet confidence she carried, but you were too afraid to say anything, unsure if she felt the same way.

Today, however, you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. You had seen her earlier in the day, her red hair shining in the sunlight, and the image of her smile had been stuck in your mind ever since. You were so distracted by thoughts of Jean that you didn’t even notice her entering the library until she was standing right in front of you.

“Hey,” Jean said, her voice soft as she smiled at you.

You quickly looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you met her gaze. “Oh, hey! I didn’t see you come in.”

Jean’s smile widened as she sat down beside you, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. “I noticed. You looked pretty deep in thought.”

You laughed nervously, trying to hide your flustered state. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

Jean tilted her head, her gaze soft but curious. “Anything—or anyone—on your mind?”

Your cheeks flushed at her words, and you quickly looked away, pretending to adjust your position in the chair. “Just… stuff,” you mumbled, not daring to look at her.

But before you could compose yourself, your foot slipped off the edge of the chair, and you stumbled forward, nearly colliding with the small table in front of you. Jean’s reflexes were quick, and she caught your arm, steadying you before you could fall completely.

“Careful!” she exclaimed, her laughter light and melodic. “You alright?”

You nodded quickly, your face burning with embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just—wasn’t paying attention.”

Jean chuckled softly, her hand still resting on your arm as she met your gaze with a knowing smile. “You seem a little distracted today. Anything I can help with?”

Your heart raced at the warmth in her voice, and for a moment, you wondered if she could sense what you were feeling. But you quickly shook your head, trying to brush it off. “No, I’m just… clumsy.”

Jean raised an eyebrow, her smile never faltering. “Well, I don’t mind catching you. Just try not to fall too often.”

Her words were playful, but there was a softness in her gaze that made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she knew exactly what was going on in your mind—even if you weren’t ready to admit it yet.

Rogue (Anna Marie)

It was supposed to be a normal day at the X-Mansion, but with Rogue around, things rarely felt ordinary. You were in the common area, trying to go over mission reports, but your attention kept drifting to Anna Marie. She was lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine, her gloved hands idly turning the pages as she hummed a familiar tune.

You’d always admired Rogue—from her strength to the way she handled the burden of her powers. But somewhere along the line, admiration had grown into something more. You found yourself drawn to her in ways that made your heart race and your stomach flip. Her quick wit, her beauty, that Southern charm—it was impossible not to be captivated.

But she was untouchable, literally. Rogue couldn’t get close to people, and as much as you felt something between you, the invisible wall her powers created was hard to ignore.

You sighed, trying to focus back on your reports, but Rogue shifted slightly, causing your gaze to drift to her again. Her hair cascaded down her back, the white streaks so striking against the dark brown. You caught yourself staring, and as if on cue, she looked up and met your eyes.

You quickly glanced away, your heart pounding. But the damage was done—your distraction caused you to knock your cup of coffee off the table, and in your attempt to catch it, you lost your balance and nearly toppled out of your chair.

Rogue was at your side in an instant, catching your arm before you could hit the floor. Her grip was firm but careful, gloved hands ensuring no skin-to-skin contact. She smiled, a playful glint in her green eyes.

“Careful, sugar,” she drawled, her Southern accent making your heart skip a beat. “You alright?”

You nodded, desperately trying to get a hold of yourself. “Yeah, just… clumsy today, I guess.”

Rogue chuckled, her thumb brushing over your arm lightly, sending shivers down your spine despite the barrier of fabric between you. “Looks like you got somethin’ on your mind.”

You tried to laugh it off, though the warmth in her voice and the way she was looking at you made your pulse quicken. “I’m just a little distracted, that’s all.”

Rogue’s smile widened, and she leaned in just a fraction closer. “If you’re thinkin’ about somethin’ important, I could help take your mind off it.”

Her words were teasing, but there was a hint of something deeper in her gaze—something that made you wonder if she felt the same electric tension that you did. But before you could say anything, Rogue pulled back, releasing your arm and stepping away with that trademark smirk of hers.

“Just be careful next time, alright?” she said, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual before she sauntered back to the couch.

As you sat back down, your heart still racing, you couldn’t help but wonder if Rogue was just as affected by the moments you shared as you were—even if there was always that invisible barrier between you.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

Being around Erik Lehnsherr was always a challenge. The man was powerful, charismatic, and brilliant—a force of nature who commanded respect with every word he spoke. You admired his strength and conviction, even if you didn’t always agree with his methods. But admiration had turned into something else, something you weren’t quite ready to admit.

You found yourself in his presence more often than you intended, drawn to the magnetic pull of his personality. Today was no different. You were in the briefing room, preparing for a strategy session, but instead of focusing on the task at hand, your eyes kept drifting to Erik.

He stood by the window, his silver hair catching the light as he gazed out over the grounds, his expression unreadable. You’d seen him in action countless times, watched him lead with precision and power, but there was something about the quiet moments—when he wasn’t Magneto, but simply Erik—that captivated you.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize he had turned to look at you until it was too late. Caught off guard, you fumbled with the papers in your hand, dropping them all over the floor.

Erik’s lips quirked into a slight smirk as he stepped forward, his hand outstretched. With a subtle flick of his fingers, the scattered papers floated off the ground, neatly arranging themselves back into your grasp. He didn’t say a word, but the amused glint in his eyes spoke volumes.

“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

Erik crossed his arms over his chest, watching you with that same intense gaze. “You seem… distracted,” he observed, his voice smooth and commanding as always.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. “I was just… thinking.”

“About something important, I hope,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. “Or perhaps… someone?”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and for a moment, you wondered if he could sense the turmoil inside you. But you quickly shook your head, forcing a smile. “Just thinking about the mission.”

Erik raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence commanding the space between you. “Be careful where your mind wanders, my dear. Distraction can be dangerous.”

There was a subtle edge to his words, as if he knew more than he was letting on. As he turned and walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Erik had sensed the truth—that you were just as drawn to him as he was to power.

[solxamber]

stay w me in this one, kiss cam w the first years 🙂‍↕

Kiss Cam with: The First Years

a/n; anon you brain is so big!! i got so happy??? when i saw this?? i kinda blacked out for a while and ended up writing it

Ace Trappola

The arena was packed, the air buzzing with energy as the Magift team dominated the field. You were sandwiched between Deuce and Ace, the latter chugging a soda while obnoxiously yelling at the players.

“Ace, they can’t hear you,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as he yelled, “PASS THE DISC, YOU IDIOT!”

“I don’t care! They need to know how bad they’re screwing up!” Ace shot back, waving his drink wildly.

Deuce leaned over, clearly mortified. “Can you not embarrass us in front of the whole school?”

Ace just smirked. “What? Embarrassed to be seen with your cooler, more handsome best friend?”

You snorted. “Handsome? In your dreams, Trappola.”

Ace turned to you, feigning offense. “Oh, so I’m not handsome? Guess I’ll have to let the kiss cam settle this one.”

“What does that even mean?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

As if the universe decided to spite you, the lights dimmed, and a giant heart frame appeared on the jumbotron.

You froze. “No. No way.”

Ace leaned forward, his grin turning devious. “Oh yes.”

Deuce, ever the supportive friend, burst into laughter, slapping his knee. “This is the best day of my life.”

Meanwhile, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “This has to be a mistake.”

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Come on, lovebirds! Don’t be shy! Show us some NRC spirit!”

“I’m going to die,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“Not without giving the people what they want,” Ace teased, turning to you with an exaggerated smirk. “Come on, for school pride.”

You glared at him, your cheeks burning. “Ace Trappola, I will—”

Before you could finish, Ace leaned in, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Relax. It’s just a little kiss, right?”

Your breath hitched. The crowd was chanting louder now, and your heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the embarrassment.

“Just a little kiss,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

And then it happened.

When his lips met yours, the crowd erupted into cheers, whistles, and applause. Time seemed to stop as the noise around you faded into a distant hum.

His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle, and the faint taste of soda lingered as he pulled back, his face flushed but grinning like an idiot.

“Well,” he said, his voice slightly breathless, “that wasn’t so bad, huh?”

You blinked at him, your brain short-circuiting. “You… You just kissed me!”

“You kissed me back,” he shot back, his grin widening.

Deuce, still laughing like a lunatic, clapped Ace on the back. “Congratulations, Trappola. You finally grew a pair.”

Ace turned to the jumbotron, where your kiss was being replayed in slow motion. “Man, we look good together,” he said smugly, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You shoved him, your face burning hotter than the sun. “Don’t push your luck.”

The rest of the game passed in a blur. Ace was insufferably smug, Deuce wouldn’t stop teasing you, and your heart refused to calm down.

As the crowd filed out of the arena, Ace caught your hand, stopping you just outside the gates.

“Hey,” he said, his usual grin replaced with something softer. “So, uh… about earlier.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I like you. Like, a lot. And this is not just because of the kiss cam thing.”

You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Ace…”

“I mean, no pressure or anything!” he added quickly, his face turning red. “But, you know, if you did want to be more than friends, I wouldn’t mind…”

You smiled, stepping closer and leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re such an idiot.”

His jaw dropped. “Wait—does that mean…?”

“It means yes, Ace,” you said, laughing. “But you better not let this go to your head.”

Ace grinned, grabbing your hand. “Too late.”

Spoiler: Ace tells everyone at school, and now half the campus thinks the kiss cam was staged. You’re stuck with him, but honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Deuce Spade

The stadium buzzed with excitement, the crowd alive with cheers as NRC's Magift team scored another point. You sat beside Deuce, who was yelling encouragement so earnestly you swore the players might actually hear him through sheer determination.

“Come on! You’ve got this! Pass it—yes!” he shouted, punching the air.

You couldn’t help but smile. Deuce’s enthusiasm was contagious, even if he had accidentally knocked over your popcorn in his excitement earlier.

“You’re going to lose your voice,” you teased, nudging his arm.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied with a grin. “This is important!”

What wasn’t important, however, was the dreaded kiss cam that appeared on the giant screen moments later.

The heart-shaped frame zoomed in on various couples, each one receiving cheers as they nervously or enthusiastically complied. You laughed, thinking nothing of it—until your own face appeared on the screen.

You froze. “Oh no.”

Deuce, oblivious, kept clapping until the heart frame zoomed out to reveal him beside you. His face turned crimson so fast you worried he might combust.

“W-What?!” he stammered, pointing at the screen as if denying its existence might make it disappear.

The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers, the announcer’s voice booming. “Come on, lovebirds! Let’s see some NRC spirit!”

“Deuce, say something,” you hissed, your face burning.

“I—uh—I—” he stuttered, looking everywhere but at you. “They—uh—made a mistake! Right?!”

The announcer wasn’t letting up. “Looks like someone’s shy! Don’t leave us hanging!”

Deuce looked at you helplessly, his face a mix of panic and mortification. “I-I’m so sorry about this!”

You sighed, your own heart racing. “It’s fine, Deuce. Just a quick kiss, and they’ll move on.”

He nearly choked. “A kiss?!”

“It’s not a marriage proposal!” you shot back, trying to keep your cool despite your own nerves.

He nodded frantically, visibly psyching himself up. “O-Okay! Let’s do this!”

Deuce leaned in slowly, his eyes shut so tightly you thought he might be praying for divine intervention. His lips brushed your cheek in the softest, most hesitant kiss imaginable before he pulled back like he’d just touched a live wire.

The crowd cheered wildly, but Deuce wasn’t done. In his panic, he’d miscalculated the kiss angle, and his forehead accidentally bumped yours as he pulled away.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” he asked, horrified.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nervousness melting away at his sheer awkwardness. “I’m fine, Deuce.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, his hands hovering like he wanted to check for injuries.

You smiled and, feeling bold, leaned forward to kiss his cheek in return. The crowd’s cheers doubled, and Deuce looked at you like you’d just announced he’d won the lottery.

“Um,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “That was… uh… nice.”

You laughed. “It’s just a kiss, Deuce.”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a kiss.”

Deuce spent the rest of the game sneaking glances at you, his face perpetually red. By the time the match ended, you were sure he’d worn a hole in the ground with all his nervous foot-tapping.

As the two of you walked back to the dorms, he finally cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I… I really like you.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “Deuce—”

“I mean it!” he said quickly, his words tumbling out like he’d been holding them back for ages. “I’ve liked you for a while, but I didn’t know how to tell you, and the kiss cam just kind of—”

You cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips, effectively silencing his rambling.

“Does that answer your question?” you asked, smiling at his stunned expression.

Deuce nodded, his face practically glowing. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

Spoiler: Ace finds out and teases Deuce relentlessly, but Deuce doesn’t care. He’s too busy walking you to class and holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack Howl

The stadium was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd reverberating through the stands as NRC's Magift team dominated the field. You sat beside Jack, who had insisted you attend because "It's good to support our school." Truthfully, you didn’t mind—watching the game with Jack was its own kind of fun.

He sat rigidly in his seat, tail swishing lightly as his sharp eyes tracked every play on the field. You chuckled at how serious he looked.

"Jack, relax. It's just a game," you teased.

"It's not just a game," he replied, his ears flicking. "This is about teamwork, discipline, and—"

He stopped mid-sentence when the crowd erupted in cheers. You both looked up to the big screen, only to see a giant pink heart frame around… you and Jack.

Cue Panic.

“Wait, what?!” you exclaimed, your face instantly heating up.

Jack’s ears flattened against his head as his eyes widened in sheer panic. “Oh no.”

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Looks like we’ve got a shy couple! Let’s hear it for them, folks!”

The crowd cheered louder, and you groaned. “Oh, come on…”

Jack was frozen in place, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. His tail puffed up slightly as he asked, “They’ll move on, right? They’ll pick someone else?”

You glanced at the screen, seeing your own mortified expression reflected back at you. “Not unless we do something.”

Jack’s face turned impossibly red. “You mean…?”

“Yes, Jack,” you said, trying to suppress your own embarrassment. “A kiss. Just a small one! It’s no big deal.”

Jack looked at you like you’d just asked him to leap off a cliff. “I can’t! What if it’s weird? Or awkward? Or—”

“Jack,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s just a game. Let’s get it over with.”

His ears twitched nervously as he nodded. “Okay. But, uh… where?”

“Where?” you repeated, confused.

“I mean, do I… your cheek? Your forehead? I—I don’t want to—”

“Jack!” you laughed, despite your own nerves. “Cheek is fine.”

He nodded again, his tail wagging nervously behind him as he leaned in. Just as his lips barely brushed your cheek, the crowd erupted in cheers—only for Jack to try to jerk back so fast that his forehead bumped yours.

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your head.

“Are you okay?!” he asked, panicking.

“I’m fine,” you said, trying not to laugh at his flustered expression. “But you might’ve just knocked me into next week.”

The announcer’s voice interrupted. “Let’s hear it for our lovebirds! What a show!”

You both sank further into your seats, faces burning. Jack mumbled an apology, looking like he wanted to crawl under the stadium.

“You know,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “You could’ve just kissed me properly.”

Jack froze, his eyes snapping to yours. “What?”

“Yeah,” you teased, grinning. “You’re already on the big screen. Might as well make it count.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his ears flicking nervously. Then, to your surprise, he leaned in again—this time more confidently—and pressed a quick, warm kiss to your lips.

The crowd lost it, cheering so loudly you could barely hear yourself think.

When Jack pulled back, his face was crimson, but there was a small, shy smile on his lips. “There. Was… was that okay?”

You smiled back, your heart racing. “More than okay.”

Jack spent the rest of the game sitting a little closer to you, his tail wagging uncontrollably. As you left the stadium, he finally cleared his throat.

“So… does this mean we’re—uh… dating?” he asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

You laughed, grabbing his hand. “What do you think?”

Jack’s tail wagged even harder. “I think I’m really lucky.”

Spoiler: Ace, Deuce and Epel find out later and tease Jack mercilessly, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy walking you to class with his hand in yours.

Epel Felmier

The game was electric, with the crowd roaring as NRC held a narrow lead over RSA. You sat near the bench, cheering loudly for one player in particular. Epel was a blur of determination on the field, his every move brimming with adrenaline and a grit that made your heart race just watching him.

During halftime, the players jogged off the field to hydrate and strategize. Epel wiped the sweat from his brow and spotted you by the bench. You held up an electrolyte drink with a proud smile.

“Here, you earned it!” you said, handing him the bottle.

He accepted it with a quick grin, gulping it down like a man dying of thirst. “Thanks. Didja see that shot I made earlier?”

“I did!” you replied enthusiastically. “You’re playing amazing out there!”

Your encouragement had him standing a little taller, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and affection. “Well, I ain’t done yet. Gotta show those RSA guys what we’re made of.”

But before he could head back to the huddle, the crowd’s noise shifted. You both turned toward the massive screen above the field, where a familiar heart-shaped frame surrounded… the two of you.

Epel froze for a fraction of a second, his flushed face turning an even deeper shade of red. You stared at the screen in surprise, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Is that… the kiss cam?” you muttered.

Epel glanced back at his team’s huddle, where his teammates were laughing and giving him exaggerated thumbs-ups. The crowd began chanting, egging him on.

In that moment, with the adrenaline from the game still coursing through his veins and the giddy rush of your praise in his chest, Epel made a snap decision.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you—hard, fast, and with enough confidence to leave you absolutely stunned.

The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles as Epel pulled back, his violet eyes sparkling mischievously. “Thanks for the drink,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just turned your world upside down.

Then, with one last grin, he jogged back to his team, leaving you standing there, breathless and staring after him.

The rest of the game was a blur. Epel was on fire, scoring two more goals and securing the win for NRC. The crowd was ecstatic, the team celebrating wildly, but your mind was stuck on that kiss.

When the post-game frenzy finally settled, Epel approached you by the bleachers. He was still sweaty and flushed, but his usual nervousness was nowhere to be seen. The adrenaline from the game still seemed to fuel him as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Hey,” he started, his accent thick and his voice a little raspy. “About that kiss earlier…”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart pounding. “What about it?”

Epel took a deep breath, his violet eyes locking onto yours. “I ain’t just kissin’ people for fun, ya know? I… I like you. A lot. And I’ve been wantin’ to say somethin’ for ages, but I didn’t know how. Guess the kiss cam kinda forced my hand.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his honesty. “So what are you saying, Epel?”

“I’m sayin’... would ya go out with me?” he asked, his cheeks turning red again.

You pretended to think for a moment, but the truth was, you already knew your answer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Epel’s face lit up, his grin wide and genuine. “Really?!”

“Really,” you said, laughing.

He fist-pumped the air triumphantly before quickly trying to play it cool. “Well, uh, that’s great. I’ll, uh, plan somethin’ nice, alright?”

“Looking forward to it,” you replied, your smile as wide as his.

The kiss cam video was all over campus the next day, much to Epel’s embarrassment and your amusement. Still, neither of you could deny how it sparked something wonderful between you.

And yet, every time someone teased him about it, Epel would just grin and shrug. “What can I say? I go for what I want.”

Sebek Zigvolt

The Magift stadium was loud and lively, the crowd cheering wildly as NRC battled RSA in a fierce match. You sat next to Sebek, who was practically vibrating with excitement. Not for the game, mind you, but for the honor of cheering for his young master.

“Do you see that?!” Sebek shouted, practically jumping out of his seat. “The precision! The sheer grace! Lord Malleus is unmatched on the field!”

You smiled, resting your chin on your hand. “Yeah, Sebek, I see it. You’ve mentioned it about... ten times now.”

“Only ten?!” He gasped, scandalized. “I must rectify this immediately—”

Before he could continue his speech, the crowd erupted into cheers. Confused, you looked up at the massive screen, only to freeze.

There, framed in a gigantic pink heart, were you and Sebek.

“What… what is this madness?!” Sebek’s voice boomed over the crowd noise, his face quickly turning beet red.

“It’s the kiss cam,” you explained, already feeling the heat creeping up your neck.

Sebek blinked at you, utterly baffled. “Kiss cam? What nonsense is this?!”

The announcer chimed in cheerfully. “Looks like we’ve got a lively one, folks! Give the crowd what they want!”

The audience clapped and whistled, clearly entertained by Sebek’s outburst. Meanwhile, you wished you could melt into the ground.

“Sebek, we’re on the big screen,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low. “Just a quick kiss, and they’ll move on!”

Sebek recoiled as if you’d suggested dueling Malleus. “What?! A kiss? In public? In front of—of all these people?”

“Yes!” you snapped. “It’s not that big of a deal!”

“But—! But—!” Sebek sputtered, his hands flailing in an uncharacteristically awkward display. “I cannot—this is—HOW DARE THEY IMPOSE SUCH A THING?"

The crowd was relentless, chanting louder as Sebek grew more flustered.

“Sebek,” you sighed, leaning closer to him. “If you don’t just do it, they’ll keep us up there forever.”

His eyes widened, darting between you and the screen. “I—fine! But only to end this nonsense!”

Sebek sat up stiffly, his face as red as his dorm uniform. Slowly, he leaned toward you… only to stop halfway, completely frozen.

“Sebek,” you whispered, trying not to laugh at his deer-in-headlights expression. “You’re overthinking it. Just a little peck.”

He shut his eyes tightly, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “For the honor of the young master.” Then, with the precision of someone about to execute a high-level spell, he leaned in and pressed the briefest kiss imaginable to your cheek.

The crowd erupted into cheers, but Sebek immediately pulled back, clutching his chest like he’d just fought a dragon.

“Well, that was…” You paused, trying to find the right word. “Anticlimactic.”

Sebek glared at you, still blushing furiously. “What more do you want?! I have upheld this ridiculous tradition to the best of my ability!”

You smirked, leaning closer. “Oh, come on. You’re supposed to kiss me on the lips.”

“WHAT?!” Sebek practically shouted, earning another wave of laughter from the crowd.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” you teased, leaning in just a bit more.

Sebek’s brain seemed to short-circuit for a moment, but before you could follow through on your teasing threat, he surprised you by leaning in and kissing you properly.

It was quick and clumsy but sincere, and when he pulled back, the people sitting around you erupted into wild cheers.

Sebek, meanwhile, looked like he was about to faint. “There. Are you satisfied now?!”

You laughed, touching your lips. “Actually, yeah. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

For the rest of the game, Sebek sat ramrod straight, refusing to look at you.

When the match ended and you both walked back to campus, he finally broke the silence. “That… that was purely for practical purposes!”

You grinned. “Sure, Sebek. Whatever you say.”

He glanced at you, his blush returning in full force. “It—it meant nothing!”

But the way his hand brushed against yours—and stayed there—told a very different story.

Masterlist

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Surprise! (bucky barnes)

Summary: you thought everyone forgot your birthday.

Warnings: none, fluff at the end.

WC: 600ish

A/N: my birthday was October 8. i was feeling super sad and miserable that day and I didn't want to keep posting sad things on here on that day. So viola. have a sad reader on her birthday. lol

Read on Ao3!

-

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets of New York. The city was alive with chatter and laughter, but in your small apartment, you felt an unsettling quiet. It was your birthday, but no one seemed to remember.

You had casually dropped hints to your friends in the days leading up to today—talking about your favorite cake, reminiscing about past celebrations—but as the hours slipped away, your excitement faded into disappointment. Messages were scarce, and the few you received were vague: “Happy Wednesday!” or “Can’t wait to catch up soon!”

With a heavy heart, you settled onto the couch, scrolling through social media. Everyone seemed to be having fun, but you felt like a ghost, floating through a world that had forgotten you.

Just as you were about to turn off your phone and give in to the sadness, a knock echoed through your apartment. You sighed, hoping it was a friend stopping by with a slice of cake or, at the very least, a friendly face.

When you opened the door, there stood Bucky Barnes, his signature smile brightening the dim hallway. “Hey, you! Ready for some fun?”

“Fun? What do you mean?” You forced a smile, trying to hide the heaviness in your chest.

“Oh, you know, just thought we could hang out. Got some stuff planned,” he said, stepping inside. His easy demeanor made you feel a little lighter, and you nodded, grateful for the distraction.

As the evening wore on, Bucky introduced you to a series of games and movies, keeping the atmosphere light. You laughed at his antics, but deep down, you felt the ache of disappointment. You wanted to celebrate, to feel special, but it seemed like this was just another ordinary night.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” Bucky said, heading toward the kitchen. You watched him go, feeling a mix of appreciation and sadness. Just as you settled back into your thoughts, the doorbell rang again.

Bucky returned with an armful of snacks. “I hope you like pizza rolls,” he said, grinning. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “But we’re not done yet!”

Before you could ask what he meant, he grabbed your hand and led you back to the door. He opened it wide, revealing a group of your closest friends, all smiling and holding balloons, streamers, and a giant cake that read “Happy Birthday!”

Your heart leapt, and your eyes widened in disbelief. “You…you all remembered?”

Bucky stepped forward, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Of course we did! We just wanted to make it special. You mean a lot to us, and we couldn’t let your birthday go by without a proper celebration.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you turned to face your friends. They all chimed in, “Surprise!” and wrapped you in hugs. The warmth of their love washed over you, banishing the loneliness that had settled in your heart.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered, feeling overwhelmed with joy. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, it was a team effort, but I wanted you to know how much you’re loved.”

As the night unfolded, laughter and music filled your apartment, and the worries of the day faded away. You danced, played games, and shared stories, surrounded by friends who cherished you.

In that moment, you realized that even on days you felt forgotten, there was always love waiting to surprise you. And with Bucky by your side, you knew you would never be alone.

[sirfrogsworth]

Dinner with Aunt Denise & Uncle Jeff A Tale of Science Fair Photography

Ever since my parents died my aunt and uncle have done their best to fill some of the hole left in my heart. It almost feels like they adopted me in a way. They check on me. They help me clean. They helped me sort through all of my parents' belongings. And from time to time they invite me over for dinner when I'm feeling up to it.

Last week I got a new invitation. I had been feeling pretty lonely as of late so I graciously accepted. Before I left I saw my camera sitting on the table and realized I had this fancy new lens which is especially suited for taking pictures of people.

I thought to myself...

"This lens has only taken pictures of bridges at sunset."

Which is cool and everything, but I don't really want my only photos to be of bridges at sunset. I like taking pictures of other things.

I didn't have any lighting equipment handy—just a single external flash. And without a solid plan for how I was going to use it, I quickly packed said flash and headed westward. As I saw the sun lowering in the sky above the highway my big photography brain had an idea...

"I should take pictures of *people* at sunset."

I needed a reflector of some kind to bounce my flash against. I thought poster board would probably suffice so I stopped at Walmart and headed to the arts and crafts area. I found these tri-fold poster board thingies that grade school kids use to display their science fair experiments.

I got 2 for $7!

What a deal!

After I arrived I asked if my aunt & uncle minded having their photo taken. My aunt said she was fine with it but warned me that no one had ever been able to take a decent photo of her.

I'm typically not one to be braggadocious, but I replied...

"Well, that's because you've never had your photo taken by ME."

I'm not sure I should have been so cocky considering my lighting equipment is typically used to display the life cycle of earthworms, baking soda volcanos, and... potato batteries—which was the delightful and totally real project I just found on Google.

Science Fair Entry from Billy, Age 10

After a delicious feast of bratwurst, salad, and non-electrified potatoes, I convinced my aunt and uncle to sit for a sunset photoshoot. They even helped me set up my science fair project.

Science Fair Entry from Froggie, Age 42

I decided to do a quick test indoors to make sure my plan would work. Jeff volunteered for my first experiment.

Without my contraption...

With my contraption...

I think my experiment was quite promising. But would my idea hold up outside during the sunset with constantly dimming conditions?

We moved everything to the backyard. The tri-fold poster board was a bit ornery regarding its uprightness and needed to be tamed. My Uncle Jeff used a large rock, some pillows, and a step ladder to keep the makeshift reflectors in place.

I started taking test photos without the flash to figure out the background exposure.

Those pesky power lines were going to need to be zapped later in Photoshop, but I was really digging the scenery.

I dialed everything in, started taking photos, and even on the little rear camera screen I felt like they were turning out well. With the sun setting the sky looked like it was on fire. But then the batteries died in my flash and I was starting to lose that fiery sky as darkness began to creep into view.

Unfortunately, all of the potatoes were in our bellies so my aunt scrambled to find regular batteries in the house.

This photoshoot had become a complete team effort with everyone doing their part to make it a success.

Surprisingly it was my Uncle Jeff was giving me some bona fide model poses. He just naturally has some sort of... resting model face. Very masculine and authentic. And my Aunt Denise is just pure sunshine manifested as a person. So I had no problems getting nice expressions from her.

So... would you like to see the pictures?

Will I get a blue ribbon on my science fair project?

Am I building up the suspense too much?

Okay, here we go...

I suppose the only validation I really need is from the person who has never had a decent photo taken of them.

Let's see the verdict.

All of those hours and hours of photography training helped me learn the problem solving skills I needed to pull off a photoshoot with seven dollars in supplies.

Take a small light source, bounce it off something larger, and you get a big light source.

And big light sources make people look snazzy in photographs.

Easy!

Are you kidding me?

I lost to the potato kid?

What kind of rigged nonsense...

[alphajocklover]

Wake Up Pops

**A sequel to my earlier story, ‘Wake Up Bro’. It might be little premature to write a sequel only a month later, but the second picture really inspired me. Hope you guys like it, and check out the story of Owen’s transformation into Big O**

“Wake up pops.”

Ben Smith looked up at his son in shock. Lately his son, Owen Smith, had been acting strange. He had shot up more than a foot seemingly overnight, and had gained an almost impossible amount of muscle. It almost hurt Ben’s brain to think about it, like he was noticing something he wasn’t supposed to be able to. Like he was staring at the sun. But he brushed his son's seemingly impossible transformation as a strange growth spurt, just like everyone else did. What other explanation was there? What he couldn’t brush off was his sons… other changes. It was like he was an entirely different person. He had gone from the shy, sensitive, geeky kid that Ben adored to a sport obsessed, crude, overly sexual jock. Worst of all, their relationship as father and son seemed to have just… stopped. Owen and Ben used to be so close. Owen looked up to Ben, Ben adored Owen, and they did practically everything together. But since Owen’s transformation into ‘Big O’ he had consistently ignored his father. Too busy with his new position on the football team, with his new jock bro friends, and with the girls he seemed to constantly be hooking up with. This was the first time that Owen had spoken to Ben in weeks, and what he was saying made… no sense.

“Owen? Is something wrong?” Ben asked, his first instinct to help his son. Strange transformation or not, Owen was Ben’s child. He had to make sure he was ok. Owen grinned a cocky, dumb grin, looking at his dad with slight dull eyes.

“Everything fucking great pops. I just need you to wake up pops.” Owen said. Ben looked at him with confusion. What was his son talking about? He was awake, wasn’t he? Own continued, looking at his father with a strange mix of dull amusement and genuine love. “I know you miss the old me. You miss us being close. I’ve missed you too pops. We can be the same again. You’ve just got to wake up pops.”

Ben, concerned and confused, made a move to comfort his son, when suddenly a wave of vertigo overcame him. The room around him dimmed till all he could see was his sons grinning face, his voice echoing around him. “I love you pops, but a stud like me needs a stud dad. A mentor. I can’t have a geek for a dad. And this way we can be close again. You’re meant to be more than this. It’s time to wake up pops.” Owen said, his grin turning more satisfied and victorious.

Ben felt the room began to spin as he fell back mentally, the words repeating in his mind like an all consuming loop, almost like a vortex. Wake up pops. Wake up pops. Wake up pops. WAKE UP POPS.

Ben was so lost in the words that he barely noticed as his son led him over to a mirror. Ben was so shocked by what he saw that he almost passed out right there. He looked… godly. He was impossibly big, with a body so thick and beefy that it commanded respect. His face had become so chiseled and manly that it put marble statues to shame. He barely looked like the suburban dad he once was. More like he belonged in the movies or in porn. He heard Owen laugh, a confident, manly laugh that Ben felt himself echoing without even meaning to. Owen spoke once more, a look of pride on his face.

“Fuck yeah pops! Now we’re both total studs! You let your inner jock wake up, and now we’re gonna fucking rule this town together!”

Ben felt his old self recede, as something else, someone else woke up and took control. Ben fell asleep, and Big Os pops, Coach Smith, woke up. Coach patted his son on the back, a smug grin on his face “Fuck yeah we will son.”

[hiitsm]

Sharing the Weight of Fears

Part 1.

You and Alexia navigate a tender moment when you reveal a worrying change in your health.

Angst, Fluff & Comfort.

-

You absentmindedly traced the seams of your Barcelona Femení jersey as you sat in the doctor's waiting room, heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and embarrassment. It had been weeks since you first noticed the subtle change in your left breast-a small lump that seemed to grow more prominent with each passing day. At first, you brushed it off as nothing, convincing yourself that it was just a minor fluctuation, nothing to worry about. But as time went on, so did the nagging worry at the back of your mind.

You glanced around the room, trying to distract yourself from the apprehension gnawing at your insides. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft murmur of hushed conversations did little to ease your nerves. You couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the fear of the unknown looming over you like a dark cloud.

After a thorough examination, the doctor offered a gentle smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It's always best to be cautious," she said, her voice soothing and calm. I need you to keep an eye on things, check for any changes every day. And if anything seems off, don't hesitate to come back."

You nodded, trying to swallow past the lump you managed to choke out, grateful for the doctor's patience and understanding.

As you stepped out of the doctor's office, the midday sun greeted you with its warm embrace, but the unease in your chest refused to dissipate. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Alexia, wishing her luck in the upcoming match. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the least you could do to show your support, even if you couldn't shake the lingering worry from your mind.

Making your way to Camp Nou, you tried to focus on the excitement of the match ahead, pushing aside the nagging doubts that threatened to cloud your thoughts. The vibrant energy of the stadium buzzed around you as fans filled the stands, their cheers and chants echoing in the air.

Spotting Eli and Alba among the crowd, you made your way over to them, plastering on a smile to hide the lingering unease. Eli's keen eyes immediately noticed something amiss, and she furrowed her brow in concern. "Are you feeling alright, dear?" she asked, her voice filled with maternal worry.

You shook your head, dismissing her concern with a wave of your hand. "I'm fine, just a bit tired," you replied, forcing a smile to your lips. "Didn't have time to put on makeup today, that's alI"

Eli's gaze softened with understanding, though hint of concern lingered in her eyes. "Well, make sure you take care of yourself, okay?" she said, her tone gentle yet firm. "We don't need you passing out on us before the match even starts."

You chuckled weakly, grateful for her concern but wishing desperately to erase the worry lines from her face. "Don't worry, I'll be fine," you reassured her, though the words felt hollow on your tongue. Deep down, the unease still gnawed at you, a silent reminder of the uncertainty that lurked beneath the surface.

The match was a blur of cheers and adrenaline-fueled excitement as you cheered on Barcelona Femení from the stands. The tension mounted with each passing minute until, finally, the moment arrived-Alexia's goal, a burst of triumph that echoed through the stadium as the team secured their victory. You joined in the chorus of cheers and applause, heart swelling with pride for your girlfriend's achievement. After the match, as Alexia made her way over to where you and her family were waiting, Eli's keen eyes immediately honed in on you once again. "Alexia, mija, keep an eye on Y/N,' she said, her tone laced with concern. "They look a bit pale."

You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Eli's words, grateful for the dim lighting of the stadium to conceal your reaction. Alexia's brow furrowed in concern as she turned her attention to you, her eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

As you all made your way out of the stadium and towards the car, Alexia's concern for you was palpable. Her worry only intensified as she glanced over at you, her brow furrowed with genuine concern. "Are you feeling alright, mi amor?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a mix of worry and tend erness. "Maybe you should rest when we get home. I don't want you to get sick."

You reached out to gently squeeze her hand, offering her a reassuring smile despite the lingering unease in your chest. "I'm feeling fine, Ale," you assured her, your voice calm and steady. "Just a bit tired from all the excitement, that's all. And promise, take it easy once we get home."

As you arrived home, Alexia's protective instincts kicked into high gear. She ushered you gently inside, her arms wrapped around you in a comforting embrace. "Let's get you settled on the couch," she suggested, her voice soft and soothing. "You can relax while I make us something to eat."

You nodded gratefully, allowing her to guide you to the cozy haven of the living room. Nestled against the cushions, you watched as Alexia moved about the kitchen with practiced ease, the rhythmic clatter of pots and pans a comforting melody in the background.

As you settled into the cozy haven of the living room, a sense of unease settled over you like a heavy fog. Despite your best efforts to push aside your worries, a nagging feeling gnawed at the edges of your mind. Your breasts felt oddly itchy, a discomfort that seemed to intensify with each passing moment.

You tried to dismiss it as nothing more than your imagination running wild, but the memory of your visit to the doctor earlier that morning lingered in the recesses of your mind, casting a shadow of doubt over your thoughts.

Alexia noticed your unease, her keen eyes picking up on the subtle shift in your demeanor. With a gentle touch, she brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, her voice soft with concern. "Qué pasa, mi amor?" she asked, her brow furrowing with worry. "Is something bothering you?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to articulate the swirling chaos of emotions churning within you. But as you met her gaze, the warmth of her love and understanding enveloped you like a comforting embrace. "It's nothing, Ale," you reassured her, forcing a smile despite the turmoil roiling within. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

She studied you for a moment longer, her gaze filled with a mixture of worry and understanding. With a nod, she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, her touch a silent promise of unwavering support.

Later, as you sat together on the couch, the remnants of dinner forgotten as you basked in the warmth of each other's company, Alexia's playful demeanor shifted as she sat behind you. Her hands teased their way up your torso, fingers dancing over the fabric of your Barcelona jersey. "Me encanta verte con mi camiseta del Barcelona, pero también me encanta ver y sentir tus pechos,' she murmured in your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help but smile at her words, the warmth of her affection washing over you like a gentle wave. Hearing her speak in Spanish always had a way of soothing your soul, reminding you of the depth of your connection. Lost in the comfort of her voice, you momentarily forgot about the worry gnawing at your mind. Before you knew it, Alexia's hands had moved to lift your shirt, her touch tender and gentle as she brushed against something unexpected.

She paused, her brow furrowing in confusion as she examined the red patches marring the surface of your left breast. "¿Qué es esto?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with concern as she traced the outline of the irritated skin.

Your heart sank as you met her gaze, the weight of your worries crashing down around you. How could you explain the inexplicable to her, when you barely understood it yourself? But as you looked into her eyes, the love and trust shining in their depths, you knew that you had to confide in her, no matter how difficult it may be.

As Alexia's concerned gaze bore into yours, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "It's... it's something I noticed a while ago," you began, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to remain composed. "I went to the doctor about it, but.. but didn't want to worry you."

Her grip tightened on your hand, a silent gesture of encouragement and support. "What did the doctor say?" she asked softly, her voice filled with concern. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to find the words. "She.. she said it's probably nothing" you admitted, the weight of your worries lifting slightly as you spoke the words aloud for the first time. "But... but she wants me to keep an eye on it, just in case."

Alexia's brow furrowed with worry as she listened to your explanation, her fingers tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "Why didn't you tell me, mi amor?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with hurt. You looked down, feeling the weight of guilt settle in the pit of your stomach. "I didn't want to worry you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I thought... I thought maybe it was nothing, you know? But now..."

Alexia's heart ached as she watched the turmoil playing out across your face, her own emotions mirroring yours. "It's okay to feel that way, mi amor," she said softly, her voice filled with tenderness. "But next time, I want to know. I want to be there for you, to share the weight of your fears and insecurities. You don't have to face them alone."

With a gentle squeeze of your hand, she rose from the couch, her movements fluid and purposeful as she disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, she returned with a small jar of soothing cream, the faint scent of lavender filling the air as she applied it to the irritated patches on your skin. "There,'' she said softly, her touch gentle and comforting as she smoothed the cream over your skin. "That should help with the itchiness."

You felt a rush of gratitude swell within you at her tender care, the weight of your worries easing slightly under the warmth of her touch. "Thank you, my Ale'' you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

She smiled, her eyes shining with love and reassurance as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. I will help you with your daily checkups," she murmured, her voice filled with determination. "And maybe we can see the doctor again soon, just to be safe."

Her protective instincts kicked into high gear, her unwavering devotion filling you with a sense of warmth and security. Unable to contain the swell of emotion within you, you reached out to pull her close, your lips meeting hers in a passionate embrace. I love you, Alexia," you whispered against her lips, the words a silent promise of love and devotion. And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of her embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

-

My thoughts during and after writing this piece:

Sometimes, a health scare can catch us off guard, leaving us feeling vulnerable and, surprisingly, embarrassed. It's moments like these where the support of someone close can truly shine through. Whether it's a partner, a family member, or a friend, having someone there to share the burden can make all the difference. They remind us that we're not alone, no matter how daunting the situation may seem.

[wooattackrr]

Brewing Relationships

MDNI

wordcount: 1,437

a/n: after some thinking i think im gonna be a mingyu writer :)

The bell above the door jingled softly as you adjusted the register. The familiar scent of roasted coffee beans filled the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of pastries displayed on the counter. You had been working at Brewed Awakenings for several years, and while your routine had become comfortably monotonous, you had recently noticed a change. A new barista had joined the team—Mingyu.

He was tall, with broad shoulders that were slightly hunched as he focused intently on preparing orders. His dark hair fell just above his eyebrows, and he had a charming smile that made customers blush. Each time he flashed that grin your way, your heart fluttered, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him while you were cleaning up around the shop.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow through the windows, you both found yourselves alone in the shop for closing duties. The light was dimmer now, and the gentle hum of the espresso machine was the only sound accompanying your thoughts. You couldn’t deny the spark you felt with Mingyu—there was something about the way he moved and how he interacted with customers that drew you in.

“Hey, do you mind taking out the trash?” you asked him, sliding the bag toward him while you wiped down the counter. “I’ll finish cleaning up here.”

“Sure!” he replied, grinning as he grabbed the bag. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, “But only if you promise to make me a special drink when I get back.”

“Deal,” you said, unable to suppress a smile in return.

He left, and you took a moment to gather your thoughts. You didn’t just think Mingyu was cute; you were starting to find yourself captivated by him. The way he carried himself, his laughter, the low timbre of his voice... it all made your heart race.

After a minute, he returned, his expression bright as he leaned against the counter. “So, what’s this special drink?”

You paused to think for a moment, biting your lip as a playful idea struck you. “How about a ‘Mingyu Special’? I’ll whip up something just for you.”

“Ooh, I’m curious now,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his attention entirely on you.

You busied yourself behind the espresso machine, carefully choosing each ingredient, the flurry of emotions inside you mimicking the steam rising from the spout. You were mixing a blend of espresso, steamed milk, and a hint of caramel drizzle. As you worked, you could feel his gaze on you, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“Here you go,” you said finally, sliding the cup across the counter toward him. “What do you think?”

Mingyu took a sip, his eyes lighting up. “Wow, this is amazing! You really know your stuff,” he complimented, and a flush of pride warmed your cheeks.

“Thanks! I’ve had a lot of practice,” you replied, leaning against the counter casually.

The two of you continued to chat as the night progressed, your laughter filling the small shop. Every so often, you’d catch him stealing glances at you, and each time he did, your heart raced a little faster. The atmosphere was charged, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“Okay, I have to ask,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “What’s your secret? How do you make coffee taste that good?”

You paused, taken aback by the intensity in his expression. “It’s all in the passion, I guess. You have to really enjoy what you’re doing, or else what’s the point?”

“I get that,” he said, stepping closer. The space between you felt electric now, your breaths mingling in the dim light of the shop. “I really enjoy working here.”

Your heart jumped. “Me too,” you admitted softly, meeting his gaze.

For a moment, the world around you faded. It was just you and Mingyu, two souls drawn to each other in this little coffee shop. And then, as if the air around you thickened, he took a step closer, closing the distance.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” you murmured, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’ve had a crush on you since my first day here,” he confessed, his cheeks flushing slightly. “You’re amazing at your job, and I think you’re really cute.”

Your breathing hitched. “You’ve had a crush on me?”

He nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. “Yeah, and I wasn’t sure how to say it. But now… I think we should do something about it.”

Your heart raced, excitement and nerves intertwining. “What did you have in mind?”

Mingyu stepped even closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Maybe we could—”

Before he could finish, you leaned in, capturing his lips with your own. The kiss started softly, tentative, both of you consumed by the thrill of the moment. But soon it deepened, the warmth of his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire that spread through your veins.

You pulled back slightly to catch your breath, and he looked at you with a mix of surprise and desire. “Wow, I didn’t expect that,” he said breathlessly.

“Neither did I,” you admitted, your heart racing.

He grinned, an infectious smile lighting up his face. “So, what’s next?”

You took a step back, biting your lip as you played coy. “Well, we could close up the shop… and see where the night takes us.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

You nodded slowly, a playful smirk creeping onto your lips. “I think it’s time we take our relationship from coffee shop colleagues to something a little more... personal.”

His smile widened. “I’m all in.”

With the shop closing for the night, you locked the doors, ensuring privacy, leaving only the soothing glow of the fairy lights illuminating the space.

The atmosphere was heightened, your breaths synchronizing with the palpable anticipation in the air. You stood close to him, gazing into his eyes as the silence enveloped you both.

Mingyu reached out, his hand brushing against your hip as he edged closer, grounding himself against your body. The kiss this time was hungry, filled with urgency as he pressed you against the counter, the cool marble contrasting against the heat radiating from your bodies.

You let out a soft gasp as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring your sides, fingers brushing over your curves. You reciprocated, pulling him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, while the kisses grew more passionate.

“Let’s take this to the back,” he murmured against your lips, a hint of desperation coursing through him.

You pulled away slightly, breathless but excited, and nodded. “Lead the way.”

He took your hand, guiding you through the shop and toward the storage room. The dim light from the small overhead bulb cast shadows on the walls as you entered. The air was thick with desire, and within moments, he pushed you against the wall, capturing your lips once more.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, his breath warm against your skin.

“Yes,” you breathed, craving more than just kisses now.

With renewed urgency, he pressed himself against you, his hands exploring your body as he devoured your mouth. You felt yourself melting into him, heat pooling in your core as he kissed his way down to your neck, sending shivers cascading through you. You let out a soft moan, tangling your fingers in his hair as your body responded instinctively.

“Mingyu,” you gasped, your heart racing, as his lips found the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured achingly. In one swift motion, he closed the gap, grounding himself against you as his fingers slipped beneath your clothes, finding you already wet and waiting. His touch sent shockwaves through you, the pressure building with every stroke. Your back arched off the counter, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the moment, in him.

“Mingyu,” you cried, your voice echoing off the walls. You could feel the heat in his gaze, the way he watched you as if you were the only thing that mattered. Every flick of his wrist, every brush against you sent you spiraling closer to the edge, and you could see it in his eyes that he wanted to push you over.

With one final thrust of his fingers, that wave of pleasure crashed over you, pulling you down into its depths. You clung to him, gasping for breath, as he kissed you deeply. In the back of that little coffee shop, with nothing and no one else around, you both lost yourself in a world that belonged only to the two of you, a moment in time suspended forever in the echo of every heartbeat.

——————————————————————

brrrrr

[northsoulss]

dating you II - leah williamson

(a/n : will do one for less soon! <3)

late night walks in the park, hand in hand. pushing each other around like children, running away from her grabbing hands as she tries to tickle you. late night runs to the convenience store to get ice cream just because she was craving it at 2am.

i. shes awe struck when she sees you on television, still panting from the previous match. you spoke loudly into the microphone with pride in your voice that its okay to be who you are, despite people saying its biologically wrong. this response was fired back to the interviewer when you were asked about your relationship status with leah. she sees the determination in your eyes, the pure fire and willpower in your actions. she thinks she snagged the right one this time, a proud grin on her face as she lays on the couch, phone in hand, ready to text you how much she loves you.

ii. you think you love her when she lays in bed at night and stares up at the ceiling. she was wordless and yet so many thoughts filled the room. you smooth her furrowed brows with a brush of your thumbs, and her eyes flutter shut.

“what are you thinking about?” you whisper, and she turns to look at you, the dim light from the moon shining into your room from the open window. she looks like one of artemis’s hunters you think, eyes strong, facial features lit up by the moonlight. your ever so strong, leah.

“nothing you need to worry about.”

iii. she thinks you’re a breath of fresh air when you are waiting in your car for her after a bad match. you sit there in the driver’s seat, window rolled down. earphones plugged in, humming a faint melody of her favourite song that she had recommended to you a week ago. she opens the door with a small sigh, clearly disappointed with how the she played today which does not go unnoticed. the moment she sits down, your hand is on her bouncing knee, rubbing comforting circles onto her skin. you look at her, earphones dangling from your neck, a worried expression on your face that makes her break her composure. you sit there with her till the sun sets, listening and comforting her, reassuring her that her playing skills do not define her as a person.

iv. you love her, now you are certain after seeing her lead you to her favourite spot in the park. the act so intimate, her bringing you to the place she always goes to when things become too much.

“you know, i’ve always wanted to bring someone here. i was always afraid that this place would no longer be special, but i think showing you wouldn’t change anything. it can be our spot now.”

you think your heart strings couldn’t be tugged any further, and yet your heart falls out of your chest and into her hands for her to hold.

“its beautiful, leah.” you kiss the back of her hand, hoping that your small lingering touches will convey your love for her.

v. you know you can rely on her when she swats your hand away from trying to touch the pot that she was stirring.

“stop trying to take over! i told you i’m helping with the chores today, darling.” despite both of you just coming back from training, she insists its her turn to cook, ignoring your insistent protests.

“just let me help lee!”. she blocks the stove with her hip, pushing you away in process. giving you a knowing look, you melt, and give in. you sit at the dining table with a huff, and yet you could not hide the fond smile that crept onto your lips.

vi. she looks at you in admiration, standing at the sidelines as you screamed in victory as you scored a goal which helped your team win against the opponent. you looked magical, hair messy in a ponytail, lips curled up in an open mouthed smile yelling excitedly. you run around the pitch with your team mates, piggybacking one of them happily. your eyes scan the stadium and you quickly spot her in the crowd, blowing her a kiss and a wink. leah smiles widely, a hand coming up to rest on her chest, trying to coax her heart to slow down, feeling like a teenager who got invited to prom by her crush.

vii. you’ve never felt more proud of her, watching her step onto stage to present the sports personality of the year award. your heart swells with pride, seeing her sport a suit with a beaming smile. she looks absolutely radiant, and you are incredibly proud of the person she has become over the many years that you have been with her. you are more than happy to stay on the side to support her as she becomes more popular, to act as her plus one to events. as long as you are with her, nothing else matters.

viii. there are times were she feels more appreciative of you than usual, like when you lay out her training kit that she has to wear the following day on the bed, or leaving small texts to let her know throughout the day that you’re thinking of her.

“hey babes, i know you’re in training right now, but i just wanted to know before i fly off that i really love you, and i can’t wait to see you after my match is over. <3”

she only reads the text an hour later, looking at it with a sad smile, but typing back an equally sappy reply, already missing your constant presence.

“love you too babe. i miss you already. see you soon xoxo”

©️northsoulss 2023, all rights reserved.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Beneath the Surface

Warnings: Depression, Eating Disorder, Emotional Distress, Mental Health Struggles

Summary: Y/n, struggling with depression and an eating disorder, feels trapped in her own darkness, unable to confide in her husband, Toto Wolff, for fear of burdening him. Despite her attempts to hide her pain, Toto notices the changes in her and becomes increasingly concerned.

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Word count: 869

If you need help please don´t shy away and confide in someone for help. your feelings are valid.

______________________________________________________________

Y/n stared blankly out of the window, her eyes tracing the familiar skyline of England. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden hue over the city, but she felt nothing. The world outside was vibrant, alive with color and energy, but inside, she was a hollow shell, trapped in a gray fog that refused to lift.

Toto had left early that morning, heading to the Mercedes factory for yet another meeting. His life was a whirlwind of decisions, deadlines, and constant pressure. Y/n had always admired his drive and ambition, the way he could juggle a million things at once and still come home to her with a smile. But lately, that smile felt like a spotlight, one she couldn't bear to stand under.

She sighed, her hand drifting to the untouched plate of food in front of her. The thought of eating made her stomach turn, a wave of guilt crashing over her for the third time that day. The food wasn’t the problem—she was. Her mind was a battlefield, a war she had been losing for months now. The depression had crept in slowly, like a shadow lengthening in the afternoon sun, until it swallowed her whole.

And the eating disorder? That was her secret weapon, the twisted coping mechanism she clung to in a desperate attempt to feel some semblance of control. But the control was an illusion, and she knew it. It was a spiral, one that tightened around her like a noose, leaving her breathless and panicked.

She couldn’t tell Toto. The very thought of burdening him with her darkness made her chest ache. He had enough on his plate, running a Formula 1 team and maintaining the image of a calm, collected leader. He didn’t need her problems on top of that.

But Toto noticed. He always did.

He had seen the way her clothes hung a little looser on her frame, the way her smile never quite reached her eyes anymore. He noticed how she pushed food around on her plate, claiming she wasn’t hungry, or that she had eaten earlier. He watched as the light in her eyes dimmed, replaced by a distant, haunted look that broke his heart.

Toto was no stranger to pressure and stress, but the sight of his wife slipping away from him was a different kind of pain, one he didn’t know how to fight. He had tried to bring it up gently, asking if she was okay, if there was anything she wanted to talk about. Each time, she brushed him off with a weak smile and a quick excuse.

But Toto wasn’t fooled. He knew something was terribly wrong, and the longer she kept him at arm’s length, the more desperate he became to help her.

One evening, he came home earlier than usual, hoping to catch her before she retreated into the solitude of their bedroom. He found her sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at a cup of tea that had long gone cold.

“Y/n,” he called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up, startled anyway, and quickly forced a smile. “Hey, I didn’t hear you come in. How was your day?”

Toto walked over, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down. He took her hand in his, noting how thin and cold it felt. “It was fine,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “But I’m more worried about how your day was.”

Y/n’s smile faltered, and she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m fine, Toto. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

He squeezed her hand, his heart aching at the way she tried to downplay her struggles. “Y/n, you’re not fine. I can see that something is wrong, and it’s killing me that you won’t let me in.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she quickly blinked them away, shaking her head. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems. You have enough to deal with already.”

Toto’s expression softened, and he reached out to gently cup her cheek, turning her face toward him. “You are never a burden to me, Y/n. You’re my wife, my partner in everything. If you’re hurting, then I’m hurting too. Please, let me help you.”

The dam broke then. The tears she had been holding back for so long spilled over, and she crumpled into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Toto held her tightly, his own eyes damp as he whispered soothing words, promising her that they would get through this together.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked out between sobs. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I feel so lost, so out of control, and I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” Toto murmured, stroking her hair. “We’ll find help, Y/n. We’ll get through this, one step at a time. But you have to trust me, and let me in. We’re a team, remember?”

She nodded against his chest, the weight of her secret finally lifting, if only a little. “I’m scared, Toto.”

“I know,” he whispered. “But we’ll face it together, every step of the way.”

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER FOUR

“i want something that i know is real”

pairings — judexblack!girl

genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 6.3k

summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?

an — my favourite chapter! i eat up the sick trope

masterlist

as y/n arrived at jude’s apartment building, the evening sun casting a soft, golden glow across the streets, she felt a wave of doubt wash over her. her heart pounded as she stared at the door, clutching the bags of food and medicine she had brought with her. what am i even doing here? she thought, biting her lip. this is crazy. i don’t even have his number, and now i’m just showing up at his place like some kind of stalker.

the plan had seemed solid at the time—check on jude, make sure he was okay, maybe bring him something comforting. but now, standing outside his door, her anxiety took over, making her second-guess everything. she knew how unusual it was for her to do something so impulsive, and the fear of being an intrusion gnawed at her. she began to turn away, thinking she could just drop the food off and leave, when the door suddenly opened.

“y/n?” jude’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and full of surprise. he reached out, catching her by the arm before she could retreat. his touch was gentle, but it stopped her in her tracks, grounding her in the moment.

y/n froze, her mind racing. “oh, um, hi,” she stammered, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. “i wasn’t—I wasn’t going to just leave, i swear. i mean, i was, but not like that! i wasn’t stalking you or anything, i just wanted to make sure you were okay because you didn’t seem well, and i know this is probably really weird and—”

jude’s soft chuckle interrupted her rambling. “y/n, it’s okay. really,” he reassured her, his hand still warm on her arm. “i’m glad you came. it’s good to see you.”

his words eased the tension in her chest, and she finally let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “you are?” she asked, her voice small, still not entirely convinced.

“yeah,” he nodded, stepping aside to invite her in. “come on in. what did you bring?”

y/n hesitated for a moment before stepping into his apartment. the space was dim, the only light coming from the flickering television and the soft glow of the evening sun through the windows. she felt a pang of sympathy as she noticed the clutter, the signs of his illness evident in the abandoned tissues and half-empty water bottles scattered around.

“i, um, brought some food,” she said, lifting the bags slightly as she walked further inside. “it’s nothing special, just some things my mom used to make when my siblings and i were sick. i thought it might help, you know, with getting your strength back. i noticed you lost some muscle…”

jude raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips despite his obvious fatigue. “you noticed that, huh? what else did you bring?”

y/n blushed, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “some medicine too, in case you didn’t have any. and, um, i just wanted to make sure you had company.”

“you went through all this trouble for me?” jude asked, his tone softening with a hint of awe. he leaned against the back of his couch, clearly touched by her effort.

“it wasn’t any trouble,” y/n replied quickly, brushing off his gratitude. “i didn’t want you to be alone while you’re feeling this way. besides, i’ve taken enough herbal remedies from my mom to last a lifetime. so, if you’re worried about getting me sick, don’t be.”

he smiled at that, a genuine smile that lit up his tired face. “you really didn’t have to do this, but i’m glad you did. thank you.”

as they settled onto the couch, y/n began to unpack the food she had brought, setting out the dishes with care. the aroma of the warm, hearty meals filled the room, bringing a comforting sense of home with them. jude watched her, his gaze softening as she moved about, completely focused on making him comfortable.

“this smells amazing,” jude commented, as she handed him a bowl of soup. “what’s in it?”

“it’s a family recipe,” y/n said with a shy smile, “my mom always made this for us when we were sick. she’d say it was to bring back any weight we lost. it’s full of good stuff—lots of vegetables, some meat, and her special mix of spices.”

jude took a cautious sip, his eyes widening in surprise at the rich, comforting flavor. “this is incredible,” he said, looking at her with newfound appreciation. “i don’t think i’ve ever had anything like this.”

“really?” y/n asked, a small smile tugging at her lips. “i’m glad you like it.”

“like it? i love it,” jude replied, his tone sincere. “you’ve got some serious cooking skills, y/n.”

she laughed softly, a little embarrassed by the compliment. “well, i had a good teacher.”

as they continued to eat, the atmosphere between them grew more comfortable, the earlier awkwardness dissipating. it was nice, y/n thought, to be able to do something for him, to help in some small way. she had been so caught up in her own anxieties lately that it felt good to focus on someone else for a change, especially someone she cared about.

just as she was about to offer him some more food, jude’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen before answering. “hey, mum,” he said, his voice still raspy.

y/n shifted slightly, suddenly feeling like she was intruding. she busied herself with tidying up the table, trying to give him some privacy. but as the conversation continued, she couldn’t help but overhear jude telling his mum that she was there.

“really?” his mum’s voice was warm even through the phone. “can i speak to her?”

jude glanced at y/n, holding out the phone. “she wants to talk to you.”

y/n blinked, taken aback. “me? oh, um, okay.” she hesitated for a moment before taking the phone, pressing it to her ear. “hello, mrs. bellingham?”

“please, call me denise,” jude’s mum said with a friendly laugh. “i’m so glad to finally speak to you, y/n. jude’s mentioned you before, you know. i’ve been wanting to thank you for looking after him at work.”

“oh, it’s nothing, really,” y/n said quickly, her cheeks flushing. “i just wanted to make sure he was okay. i’m sorry for coming over unannounced; i know it’s probably not appropriate…”

“nonsense,” denise cut her off gently. “you’re hardly a stranger, dear. you’re jude’s friend, and it’s not inappropriate at all. i’m actually really happy you’re there with him. he’s lucky to have someone like you looking out for him.”

y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at those words, easing the lingering doubt she had felt. “thank you, denise. that means a lot.”

“it’s my pleasure,” denise replied warmly. “take good care of him for me, will you? and i can’t wait to meet you in person soon.”

“i will,” y/n promised before handing the phone back to jude. she caught the soft smile on his face as he finished the call, and she couldn’t help but feel a little shy under his gaze.

“what did my mum say to you?” jude asked, his tone teasing.

“just that you’re not a baby and that she’s glad i’m here,” y/n replied, a small smile playing on her lips. “she seems really nice.”

“she is,” jude agreed, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer. “and she’s right, you know. i am glad you’re here.”

y/n felt her cheeks flush again as she quickly busied herself with getting the medicine she had brought. “you should take this,” she said, handing him a small cup of liquid. “it’ll help with the fever.”

jude made a face but took the medicine, grimacing as he swallowed it down. “ugh, that stuff is terrible.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. “i know, but it works. here, drink some water.”

she held the glass for him as he drank, their fingers brushing slightly as she did. it was a small, intimate moment, but it made y/n’s heart skip a beat. she quickly pulled her hand back, hoping he didn’t notice the way her fingers trembled slightly.

jude set the glass down and leaned back against the couch, sighing as the medicine started to take effect. ���you really didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured, his eyes starting to droop. “but thank you, y/n. it means more to me than you know.”

“it’s no problem,” she replied softly, reaching out to smooth a strand of hair away from his forehead. “you just focus on getting better.”

as jude settled into the couch, he reached for the remote and turned on the tv. “have you seen breaking bad?” he asked, his voice already thick with drowsiness.

“not really,” y/n admitted, settling beside him. “i’ve heard it’s good, though.”

“it is,” jude said, a small smile playing on his lips. “let’s start it from the beginning, then. you can keep me company.”

they watched the show in comfortable silence, the only sound in the room the low hum of the tv. as the first episode played, jude’s head gradually began to

 droop until it rested against y/n’s shoulder. she froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, but when he let out a contented sigh, she relaxed.

“you’re okay with this?” he mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep.

y/n smiled softly, her heart swelling with affection. “of course,” she whispered, gently guiding his head to her lap. “just rest.”

jude shifted slightly, getting comfortable, and as she began to run her fingers through his hair, he let out a low, satisfied hum. “that feels nice,” he murmured.

y/n’s smile widened, and she continued the soothing motion, her own heart calming as she watched him drift off. his breathing slowed, becoming steady and deep, but just as he was about to fully succumb to sleep, he stirred slightly.

“y/n?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” she replied, still running her fingers through his curls.

“what do you like about me?” he asked, his tone so vulnerable that it caught her off guard.

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, and she hesitated, her hand stilling in his hair. “what do you mean?”

“i can’t tell,” jude confessed, his eyes still closed, his voice laced with exhaustion. “i know i like you, but i don’t know what you see in me.”

y/n’s chest tightened at his words, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at something deep within her. she resumed stroking his hair, her touch gentle and reassuring as she gathered her thoughts.

“jude, you’re one of the most patient, understanding, and caring people i’ve ever met,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. “you always take the time to listen, to make sure people are okay, even when you’re not feeling your best. and you’re not bad to look at either.”

a faint smile tugged at the corners of jude’s lips, even as he kept his eyes closed. “not bad, huh?”

“not bad at all,” y/n confirmed, her voice warm and teasing.

jude let out a small chuckle before his expression softened, and he opened his eyes to look up at her. “i like your heart, y/n,” he said quietly, his voice sincere. “you came all the way here to take care of me, and you didn’t have to. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen, inside and out.”

y/n felt her cheeks flush at his words, her heart swelling with affection and something deeper, something she didn’t quite know how to name. she continued to stroke his hair, her touch gentle and soothing as she tried to process the emotions swirling inside her.

“you’re my best friend, y/n,” jude murmured, his eyes drooping once more as sleep finally began to claim him. “and i’ll wait for you, okay? however long it takes.”

y/n’s breath hitched at his words, and she blinked back the sudden sting of tears. “okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “thank you, jude.”

as jude finally drifted off to sleep, y/n remained where she was, her fingers still gently running through his hair. she watched him for a while, her heart full of emotions she couldn’t quite name. for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace, the weight of her past fears and doubts lifted, if only for a moment.

and as she sat there, with jude resting in her lap, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she had finally found a place where she belonged.

y/n sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, as she watched jude’s chest rise and fall with each slow breath. his head, heavy and warm, rested in her lap, a stark contrast to herself sitting down. the sight made her smile softly—a huge man like jude, so strong and capable on the field, now lying vulnerable and completely at her mercy. it was almost comical, and yet, it felt right in a way she couldn’t fully explain.

the evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room, adding to the quiet intimacy of the moment. y/n carefully brushed a few strands of hair from jude’s forehead, her fingers lingering there as she assessed his temperature. the fever had broken, but she could still feel the remnants of sweat clinging to his skin. she reached for the towel he’d been using earlier and gently patted his face, her movements tender and deliberate.

“wake up, love,” she murmured, the word slipping out before she could catch herself. she froze, her hand midair, but jude didn’t stir. she let out a small sigh of relief, assuming he was still too out of it to hear her. she continued to run her fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness beneath her touch, unaware of the contented smile that had crept onto his lips.

after a few moments, jude’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze hazy as he adjusted to the dim light. when he saw y/n, his smile widened, a warm glow filling his chest. “hey,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

“hey,” y/n replied softly, her fingers still threading through his hair. “how are you feeling?”

“better,” he said, his eyes closing again as he leaned into her touch. “much better.”

she couldn’t help but notice how his large frame almost dwarfed her, yet here he was, completely at ease in her care. jude shifted slightly, his cheek brushing against her thigh, and that’s when he noticed how damp it was. he groaned softly, lifting his head just enough to look at her apologetically. “i’m sorry, i think i sweat all over you.”

y/n shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “it’s fine, really. i’m just glad the medicine is working.”

jude hesitated before raising his head fully from her lap, reluctant to break the connection but knowing he needed to. “you’ve been here the whole time?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“yeah,” y/n said, rising from the couch to get more medicine for him. “you’ve been asleep for a good two and a half hours. i just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

he watched her with a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to name. “you didn’t have to stay,” he said, though the idea of her leaving felt strangely wrong.

“i wanted to,” she replied, her voice firm yet gentle as she handed him the medicine. “besides, someone had to make sure you took this.”

jude took the medicine from her, their fingers brushing in the exchange. it was a small, fleeting touch, but it sent a shiver down his spine. he quickly downed the medicine with a grimace, then took the glass of water she offered, drinking it all without taking his eyes off her.

“so, you got pretty far in the show, huh?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation to something lighter. jude looked at her in surprise, his eyes brightening a little. “watching it without me?” he teased lightly, though there was genuine happiness in his tone. “i’m just glad you like it enough to continue .”

“i did,” she admitted, moving to get him more medicine. “though i think i’ll need you to explain a few things to me. some parts were a bit confusing.”

he chuckled softly, the sound warming her from the inside out. “i’ll gladly give you a rundown anytime,” he replied, his eyes following her as she returned with the medicine.

“i’m surprised you actually got me into it.” y/n said with a nod, sitting back down beside him. 

jude chuckled, feeling a bit more like himself. “told you it’s good. i’m just glad you didn’t leave while i was out cold.”

y/n smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “i almost did,” she admitted, her voice softening. “i didn’t want to intrude or make you uncomfortable.”

“intrude?” jude echoed, his brows knitting together in confusion. “y/n, you’re the last person who could ever make me uncomfortable. honestly… i was really happy to see you when i woke up.”

y/n blushed, ducking her head to hide it. “i just didn’t know if you’d want me here. i mean, i showed up without even having your number. it’s a bit… embarrassing.”

jude’s expression softened, and he reached out to tilt her chin up, making her meet his eyes. “i’m glad you came,” he said, his voice sincere. “and now, you don’t have to worry about that.” he handed her his phone, his smile turning playful. “go on, put your number in.”

y/n took his phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she entered her number. she handed it back to him, and he saved it with a contented nod. “there, now you can’t say you don’t have my number,” he teased.

she laughed softly, but her mind was still racing with thoughts. “you know, i had to go through your file to get your address,” she confessed, a bit sheepish. “the lengths i went to…”

jude chuckled, shaking his head. “and here i was thinking you had some secret method for tracking me down,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “it’s not like that. i just—i was really worried about you.”

“i know,” jude said, his teasing tone fading into something more serious. “and i really appreciate it, y/n. more than you know.”

the room fell into a comfortable silence, the air between them thick with unspoken emotions. jude leaned back against the couch, his hand reaching out to hers. he gently squeezed her fingers, a silent thank you for everything she had done for him.

“i should probably go,” y/n said after a while, though the words felt heavy on her tongue.

jude’s hand tightened around hers. “do you have to?” he asked, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard.

“my brother and sister-in-law are nearby,” she explained, though she wasn’t in a hurry to leave, “they can pick me up.”

jude shook his head, a stubborn set to his jaw. “no, i’ll take you home. you came all this way to take care of me, it’s the least i can do.”

y/n frowned, worry etching across her features as she gently squeezed his hand. “jude, you’re still sick. you need to rest more, not drive around the city. please, let my brother get me. i’ll feel better knowing you’re here, taking care of yourself.”

he opened his mouth to argue but was met with the determined look in her eyes. with a sigh, he relented, though his hand didn’t let go of hers. “fine, but you have to promise me you’ll call when you get home. i want to know you’re safe.”

y/n’s expression softened at the concern in his voice. “i will,” she promised, offering him a reassuring smile. “i’ll text you as soon as i’m home.”

jude’s face fell slightly, though he tried to mask it. “oh… okay.”

“hey,” she reached out, brushing her thumb gently across the back of his hand, “it’s not goodbye forever. you’re stuck with me, remember?”

his lips quirked up at that, a small smile breaking through his disappointment. “yeah, i remember.”

y/n stood up slowly, reluctant to break the connection. “i’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

jude closed his eyes at the feel of her lips on his skin, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the fever. when he opened his eyes again, y/n was already at the door, her hand resting on the handle.

“y/n,” he called out, making her pause and turn back to him. he smiled softly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “thank you… and, you know, i think i’m completely gone for you.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his confession, and she felt her cheeks heat up. but instead of responding, she just smiled back at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of emotions.

“i’ll see you soon, jude,” she said softly, before slipping out the door and into the cool evening air.

as the door clicked shut behind her, jude let out a long breath, his heart pounding in his chest. he knew without a doubt that he was completely and utterly gone for her.

as y/n stepped out of jude’s apartment building, she spotted her brother’s car parked a short distance away. the street was quiet, with only the soft hum of the city in the background. her thoughts were still tangled up in the warmth of jude’s apartment, the feeling of his hand lingering in hers, and the way he’d looked at her like he didn’t want her to leave. as she walked toward the car, she couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest.

the moment she opened the back door, carmen’s warm smile greeted her. “hey, y/n! how was your night?” she asked, scooting over to make room for her.

y/n slid into the backseat, pulling the door shut behind her. “it was… nice,” she replied softly, trying to keep the fluttering in her stomach from showing on her face as she buckled in.

alejandro glanced at her in the rearview mirror as he started the car. “this is some neighborhood,” he commented, the hint of curiosity in his voice impossible to miss. “what kind of friend do you have living in a place like this?”

y/n hesitated, feeling her cheeks warm under his gaze. “just… a friend,” she said, her voice quiet. she wasn’t sure how much to say, but the thought of hiding jude felt strange, like she was denying something that had already grown important to her.

carmen, ever the playful one, turned around in her seat, eyebrow raised. “a friend? come on, y/n. we’re family—you can’t just drop a hint like that and not spill the details.”

y/n fiddled with the strap of her bag, her heart beating faster. “his name is jude… jude bellingham,” she confessed, the words feeling almost surreal as they left her lips.

alejandro’s reaction was instant. he slammed on the brakes, the car lurching forward and causing them all to jerk in their seats. “wait, what? jude bellingham, the football star?” he exclaimed, turning to look at her, eyes wide with disbelief. “y/n, what is someone like him doing hanging out with you?”

the question hit her like a slap. y/n’s heart sank, and she felt a wave of hurt wash over her. “what do you mean, someone like me?” she asked, her voice trembling with the effort to stay calm, but her eyes betrayed her.

alejandro softened, though his confusion was clear. “you’re… you’re just different, y/n. you’re sweet, shy, and always looking for something serious. a guy like jude… he’s got the whole world at his feet. women practically throw themselves at him, and he’s… well, he’s…”

“he’s what?” y/n cut in, a sharp edge in her voice. “out of my league? or is it that you think i’m not good enough?”

alejandro winced at her words, knowing he’d touched a nerve. “that’s not what i meant, y/n. it’s just… you were with javier for so long, and now you’re spending time with someone like jude? it’s… it’s different. he’s not the type to settle down, and i don’t want you getting hurt.”

y/n’s chest tightened, the old wounds from her relationship with javier threatening to resurface. she wasn’t blind to the reality that jude could have anyone he wanted, and that insecurity gnawed at her more than she’d like to admit. but hearing it from her brother, someone who was supposed to protect her, made it sting even more.

before she could respond, carmen jumped in, her voice firm and protective. “alejandro, that’s enough,” she said, glaring at him. “y/n is an amazing woman, and she deserves happiness just like anyone else. jude is lucky to have her as a friend, and you should be proud that your sister is attracting the attention of someone so wonderful, not trying to tear her down.”

alejandro opened his mouth to argue, but carmen wasn’t finished. “and another thing—y/n isn’t some naive little girl. she knows what she wants, and she’s smart enough to make her own decisions. if jude is spending time with her, it’s because he sees what we all see: that she’s kind, caring, and beautiful inside and out.”

y/n felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back, grateful for carmen’s fierce defense. “thanks, carmen,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

carmen reached back and squeezed y/n’s hand reassuringly. “don’t let anyone make you doubt yourself, y/n. you’re worth more than that, and you deserve to be happy, with whoever makes you feel good.”

alejandro sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as the tension in the car hung heavy. “lo siento, y/n,” he murmured, glancing at her through the mirror again. “i just… i worry about you. that’s all.”

“i know,” y/n replied, her voice softer now. “but you don’t have to. i’m fine, really. jude… he’s a good guy.”

alejandro nodded slowly, though his expression was still troubled. “okay. just… be careful, okay?”

the rest of the ride was quieter, the tension lingering but softened by carmen’s presence. when they finally pulled up to her apartment, carmen turned to y/n with a gentle smile. “you call us if you need anything, okay? and don’t let alejandro’s nonsense get to you.”

y/n managed a small smile. “i will. thanks, carmen.”

as she stepped out of the car, she felt a strange mix of emotions swirling inside her—gratitude for her sister-in-law’s support, lingering hurt from her brother’s words, and a deep, unsettling uncertainty about where things stood with jude. she made her way into her apartment, the familiar surroundings doing little to calm her racing thoughts.

meanwhile, back at jude’s place, he was lying in bed, his phone resting on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. the minutes ticked by, and with each one, his anticipation grew. he had been waiting for a text from y/n, something to let him know she got home safely, but his phone remained silent. he thought back to the way she’d looked at him, the way she’d taken care of him without hesitation. a smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the sound of her calling him “love,” even if she hadn’t meant for him to hear it.

finally, jude picked up his phone and typed out a quick message: 

jude: you get home okay? thanks again for everything tonight. sleep well. <3

he placed the phone back on his chest, still smiling as he thought about her. he didn’t know where things were headed with y/n, but tonight had made one thing clear—she was special to him, more than he’d realized. as he closed his eyes, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, the warmth of her presence still lingering in his mind. whatever tomorrow brought, he knew he didn’t want to lose what they had.

y/n sat at her desk in the physio room, her fingers idly tracing the edge of a medical file as she tried to focus on the work in front of her. the familiar hum of the facility buzzed around her, but her mind was elsewhere—lost in the whirlwind of emotions she’d been wrestling with since last night. every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel the warmth of jude’s hand in hers, hear the softness in his voice as he asked her to stay. the memory of him lying there, vulnerable and sweet, sent a shiver down her spine, one that was equal parts excitement and fear.

she couldn’t deny it anymore. whatever she felt for jude, it was real, tangible, and growing stronger by the day. but with that realization came the familiar sting of doubt. she’d been down this road before—letting herself fall, only to be hurt in ways she never expected. javier had left scars that were still too fresh, too deep to ignore. she remembered how he’d made her feel small, unworthy, like she was never enough. and though jude was nothing like him, the fear of history repeating itself lingered at the back of her mind, casting a shadow over the joy she felt when she was with him.

as y/n was lost in her thoughts, the door to the physio room creaked open. she looked up, expecting to see another player needing treatment, but her heart skipped a beat when she saw jude standing in the doorway, his familiar grin lighting up his face.

"there's my favorite girl," jude said, his voice warm and teasing as he stepped inside, his eyes locking onto hers.

y/n’s cheeks warmed instantly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "your favorite girl? what happened to your favorite physio?" she asked, arching a playful eyebrow at him.

jude’s grin widened as he walked over, leaning casually against the treatment table. "well, i figured it was about time you got a promotion," he said, his tone light but his eyes holding a certain intensity. "besides, you’re definitely more than just my favorite physio, y/n."

her heart fluttered at his words, and she had to look away for a moment, focusing on the paperwork in front of her to steady herself. "i’m flattered, bellingham," she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, even as her pulse raced.

“you should be,” he replied, his voice low and teasing. “you’ve managed to climb to the top of the list in record time.”

y/n laughed softly, shaking her head. “i didn’t realize i was being ranked,” she said, meeting his gaze again.

“oh, you are,” jude said, his smile softening. “but trust me, it’s a good thing.”

just as y/n was about to respond, jude’s expression shifted, a more serious look crossing his face, though there was still a hint of playfulness in his eyes. “but, speaking of things you didn’t realize… why didn’t you text me when you got home last night?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “i was worried, you know.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard by the question. “oh… i’m sorry, jude. i didn’t mean to worry you,” she said quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. “i guess i was just tired and it slipped my mind.”

jude’s expression softened further, though there was still a glint of mischief in his eyes. “well, i had to do a welfare check to make sure you were safe,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “i almost sent out a search party.”

y/n’s eyes widened slightly, and she could tell he was exaggerating, but the concern in his voice made her heart ache in the best way. “a search party?” she repeated, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“yep,” jude nodded, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as if sharing a secret. “i was this close to calling in reinforcements.”

y/n laughed, her tension melting away under his warm gaze. “you’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head, though she couldn’t help the warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of him caring enough to worry.

“maybe,” he admitted, his smile softening as he looked at her. “but i care about you, y/n. a lot.”

her breath caught at his words, and she found herself unable to look away from him, the sincerity in his eyes making her heart swell. she could see it now, the way he looked at her, the way his voice softened when he spoke to her—it wasn’t just a joke or a casual flirtation. he truly cared about her, and that realization both thrilled and terrified her.

“i’m sorry i worried you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll make sure to text you next time.”

“good,” jude said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. “i’d hate to have to go through all that again.”

they shared a quiet moment, the air between them charged with unspoken words and emotions. y/n felt her heart racing, her mind spinning with everything she wanted to say but couldn’t find the courage to. but jude didn’t push; he simply smiled at her, his eyes warm and reassuring, making her feel like everything was going to be okay.

“you know,” he said after a moment, his tone lightening again, “you really do owe me for all that stress.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the way her heart was still fluttering. “oh, do i?”

“mm-hmm,” jude nodded, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “but don’t worry, i’ll collect my payment in installments. maybe starting with another one of those movie nights.”

y/n laughed, the tension in her chest easing as she met his playful gaze. “deal,” she said, feeling a little more at ease. “but only if you promise not to worry too much if i forget to text you again.”

“only if you promise to keep me in the loop,” jude countered, his grin widening.

“i promise,” she said softly, her smile matching his.

“good,” jude said, his voice warm as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing softly against her cheek in a tender, lingering kiss. the touch was light, almost like a whisper, but it sent a wave of warmth through y/n’s entire body.

when he pulled back, there was a playful smirk on his face. “i owed you one of those,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

y/n’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she instinctively brought a hand up to the spot where his lips had been. “jude…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. she felt flustered, caught off guard by the unexpected kiss, but also undeniably giddy.

he chuckled softly, clearly pleased with her reaction. “what? you didn’t see that one coming?” 

“no, i… definitely didn’t,” she admitted, her heart racing. “you’re full of surprises, bellingham.”

“just wait,” he said, giving her hand a final squeeze before releasing it. “there’s plenty more where that came from.”

she could only stare at him, her mind spinning with a mix of emotions—nervousness, excitement, and something else she couldn’t quite name. as he turned to leave, she found herself wishing he’d stay just a little longer.

there was a moment of silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence that felt full of unspoken words and shared feelings, the kind that made y/n’s heart flutter in her chest. she found herself wanting to reach out, to close the distance between them, but the fear of what that might mean held her back. instead, she focused on the way jude was looking at her, the tenderness in his eyes making her feel like she was the only thing that mattered to him.

“you’re really something else, you know that?” jude said suddenly, his voice low and sincere. “i don’t think i’ve ever met anyone like you.”

y/n’s breath caught in her throat at his words, and she felt her heart swell with emotion. “jude…” she began, but the words failed her. what could she say? that she was falling for him, that he made her feel things she hadn’t felt in years, that she was terrified of what that might mean?

he seemed to sense her hesitation, and he reached out, gently taking her hand in his. the touch was warm, comforting, and it sent a jolt of electricity through her. “it’s okay, y/n,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted you to know.”

she looked down at their joined hands, feeling the weight of his words settle over her like a soft blanket. she wanted to believe him, to let herself fall completely into whatever this was, but the voice in the back of her mind—the one that whispered javier’s cruel words—kept holding her back.

before she could get too lost in her thoughts, jude stood up, still holding her hand. “i should get going,” he said, his tone light even though his eyes lingered on her face, like he was memorizing every detail. “but i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“see you tomorrow, y/n,” he called over his shoulder, giving her one last smile before he walked out of the room, leaving her standing there, her cheek still tingling from the kiss.

as the door clicked shut behind him, y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. she touched her cheek again, feeling the warmth still lingering there, and couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.

she was in deep now, and she knew it. but as scary as it was, she couldn’t deny that there was something about jude—something that made her want to take the leap, to see where this could go. maybe it was crazy, maybe it was risky, but as she stood there, heart racing and cheeks flushed, y/n couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot

[hookhausenschips]

Episode 2: Under The Neon Lights

Main Menu

Summary: In Episode 2, Y/N and her friend Zara immerse themselves in the lively F1 paddock in Singapore. There, Y/N meets Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc and shares some playful exchanges with Lando Norris and Max Verstappen. They bond over the adrenaline of underground racing, but when Y/N receives an invitation to a street race that night, she feels drawn back to her roots and opts to leave the F1 excitement behind.

WC: 2k

Warnings: Language, Dangerous Behaviour, Intense Situations, Romantic/Flirtatious Interactions, Class and Culture Differences

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

previous next

Later that evening

The sun had dipped below the horizon, and Singapore’s night skyline was lighting up in brilliant neon. The city buzzed with life, energy pulsing through the streets, but none more so than around the Marina Bay Street Circuit. The soft hum of engines in the distance was like a constant reminder of why I was here, and the air crackled with anticipation for the race that Sunday.

I was hanging back near the paddock after exploring a few garages on my own, feeling a little out of place but also oddly curious about this world. My street racing instincts made me analyze every car, every conversation, comparing it to my world back home. Everything here was so… polished. Precise. The opposite of the raw, gritty thrill of the streets. But damn if the engineering didn’t fascinate me. I couldn’t help but respect the sheer mastery behind these machines.

Just as I was contemplating heading back to the VIP lounge for the evening, Zara appeared, her tall figure striding confidently through the paddock.

“There you are, Y/N! I’ve been looking all over for you,” she called, a wide grin spreading across her face.

I grinned back, pushing myself off the barrier I’d been leaning on. “Was just getting my bearings. This place is… different.”

Zara chuckled, nodding knowingly. “Yeah, it can feel a bit stiff compared to the streets. But once you’re in, it’s pretty wild. Come on, I promised you a proper tour of the garages, didn’t I?”

“Thought you forgot about me for a second there,” I teased, falling in step beside her.

“As if I could. You're the only street racer crazy enough to walk into an F1 paddock like you own it,” Zara shot back with a wink.

We weaved through the paddock, Zara pointing out different garage entrances and dropping names of team members she’d met over the years. It was surreal being so close to the heart of the action, even if I wasn’t completely sold on the whole F1 scene. The exclusivity and the hype felt so distant from what I knew. But at the same time, the adrenaline pumping through the air wasn’t that different from the streets back home.

“Did you get a good look at any of the cars earlier?” Zara asked, slowing as we approached another garage.

“I checked out a couple, but I wouldn’t mind seeing more,” I admitted. “The tech’s insane. It’s like… everything’s stripped down to pure speed. I get why people lose their minds over these things.”

Zara smiled. “I knew you’d appreciate it. These engineers live and breathe for every millisecond. Come on, let’s check out one more garage before things get too busy.”

We were about to head toward the Red Bull garage when suddenly, someone stepped into my path. I wasn’t paying attention, caught in conversation with Zara, and I collided into a solid chest.

“Whoa, easy there!” a voice chuckled, steadying me by my arms.

I looked up, and my heart did a double take. Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver that Zara had mentioned on some occasions. The Charles Leclerc. His green eyes sparkled under the dim paddock lights, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He didn’t let go immediately, his hands lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Sorry about that,” I said, quickly stepping back and shrugging off his grip. “Didn’t see you.”

“No harm done,” Charles replied smoothly, his Monegasque accent wrapping around the words. “You’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t remember seeing you around.”

I gave him a once-over, keeping my expression neutral. “Just passing through. VIP guest for the weekend. You?”

Charles chuckled at my dry response, clearly amused. “I guess you could say I’m here every year,” he said with a wink. “Charles Leclerc. Ferrari.”

“I know who you are,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “The whole world knows who you are.”

“Ah, so you’re a fan then?” He leaned in slightly, clearly enjoying the banter.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I shot back, smirking. “I’m here for the cars, not the celebrities.”

Zara, standing beside me, stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the exchange.

Charles, however, wasn’t deterred by my lack of awe. If anything, it seemed to pique his interest. “Well, I’ll have to make sure you leave Singapore with a better impression of us drivers, then,” he said smoothly, flashing a smile that probably made half the paddock swoon.

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze. “Good luck with that.”

Before he could respond, Zara tugged on my arm. “Come on, Y/N, we’ve got more to see. You can let Charles try his luck another time.”

Charles chuckled, giving me a slow, lingering glance as Zara led me away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t deny the flicker of amusement that crossed my face as we walked away.

“That was… something,” Zara said once we were out of earshot.

“Was it?” I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “He’s just like every other guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to the world.”

Zara laughed. “Charles can be charming when he wants to be. Looks like he was laying it on thick for you.”

“He’ll have to try harder if he wants to impress me,” I said with a grin. “Let’s go see the damn cars already.”

---

Later that night, after Zara had to leave for a meeting with some motorsports people, I wandered back to the garages on my own. I wasn’t ready to call it a night just yet, and the hum of the engineers working late on the cars was like a siren’s call.

I found myself at one of the garages, watching an engineer tweak something on a Red Bull car. The precision and care they took with every adjustment were insane. I couldn’t help but think about how different it was from my world, where we often fixed our cars on the fly, piecing things together with whatever we had on hand.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” a voice said from behind me.

I turned to see a guy, maybe in his early twenties, standing next to me. He had messy brown curls and bright blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. His boyish grin practically screamed trouble, and he looked like the kind of guy who didn’t take things too seriously. He was casually leaning against a wall, his arms folded across his chest as he watched me with amusement.

“I guess you could say that,” I replied, tilting my head. “Though I’m more used to doing this in the back alleys with fewer people watching.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Street racing, huh?”

“Something like that,” I said, watching as the engineer made another adjustment to the car. “You’d be surprised how similar it is. Different tools, but the heart of it’s the same.”

The guy grinned wider. “Yeah? Maybe I should come check it out sometime. Could use some tips for when I’m not behind the wheel of an F1 car.”

I chuckled. “You wouldn’t last a minute in my world. Too… corporate for the streets.”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Give me some credit. I can handle myself.”

Before I could respond, another voice cut in. “Trust me, he couldn’t.”

I turned to see a taller guy approaching, his posture exuding a quiet intensity. He had sharp features, dark blond hair, and piercing blue eyes that studied me like I was a puzzle he wanted to solve. He wore a subtle smirk, like he was used to people underestimating him, and there was something about him that screamed competitive.

The guy with the curly hair looked between us, laughing. “Oh great, now I’ve got backup.”

“Backup?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow at the new guy. “You think you could handle it?”

He tilted his head, his smirk widening just a fraction. “Maybe. Depends on the stakes.”

The tension between us was palpable, but not in a bad way. This guy was definitely sizing me up, trying to figure out what made me tick. It was clear he was used to being in control, but he wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge. I wasn’t either.

“Well,” I said, crossing my arms, meeting his intense gaze, “if you’re ever looking for a real race, let me know.”

The new guy grinned, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The guy with the curly hair laughed, throwing an arm over my shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got two drivers to impress now, Y/N.”

I raised an eyebrow, finally realizing I didn’t know either of their names. “And you are?”

The curly-haired guy flashed me a charming grin. “Lando. Lando Norris.”

“And I’m Max,” the other guy said, his voice steady and confident. “Max Verstappen.”

I shrugged, smirking at both of them. “I’m not here to impress anyone. Just here for the cars.”

Max’s gaze lingered on me a moment longer before he nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. “Fair enough.”

As the night deepened and the paddock began to quiet down, I found myself smiling. I wasn’t here for them. I wasn’t here for anything but the love of racing and the thrill of being in this world. But if they thought they could charm me or impress me, they were in for a surprise.

The streets were where I belonged, but I could play in their world for a while, just to see how it felt.

As I stood between Max and Lando, the night was cooling down, but the energy in the paddock was still electric. We were casually chatting about racing—well, they were, mostly. I was just soaking it all in, adding a comment here and there when something caught my interest. Max was explaining some technical detail about cornering in wet conditions when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I glanced down, the screen lighting up with a message that had my heart immediately picking up speed.

“Race tonight. Few hours. You in?”

It was from one of my street racing contacts. The kind of text that made me forget where I was for a moment, pulling me right back to what felt like my real life. The pulse of the streets. The thrill of an illegal race, the adrenaline, the danger. I’d come to Singapore for F1, but now, the familiar rush of street racing was calling me, and it was a pull I wasn’t sure I could ignore.

Lando noticed the shift in my expression. “Everything okay?”

I locked my phone and slipped it back into my pocket, meeting his curious gaze. “Yeah, just… something came up.”

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing I was hiding something. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who ‘just something came up’ applies to.”

I laughed softly. “You’d be surprised.”

Lando leaned in a bit, looking intrigued. “What is it? Sounds like something fun.”

I hesitated for a second. This was my world, not theirs. They had their pristine tracks and multi-million-dollar teams backing them. Street racing wasn’t just dangerous; it was raw, illegal, and lived in the shadows. Telling them about it felt like breaking some kind of unspoken rule. But at the same time, part of me was curious how they’d react.

“Let’s just say there’s a race happening tonight,” I said slowly, testing their reactions.

Max’s eyes sharpened, his posture shifting slightly. “A race? Here? What kind?”

“The kind you don’t advertise,” I replied with a smirk. “A street race.”

Lando’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Like… an underground race?”

“Exactly like that,” I confirmed, watching their expressions closely.

Max seemed to consider this, his usual calm demeanor shifting just a little. “You race in those often?”

I shrugged casually. “It’s where I come from. It’s what I do. Street racing’s a whole different game than this.” I gestured to the glitzy F1 surroundings. “But the adrenaline? The speed? It’s the same.”

Lando, always the curious one, leaned in closer, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Are you racing tonight?”

I met his gaze, the challenge in his eyes unmistakable. “Thinking about it.”

Max crossed his arms, his expression unreadable but clearly interested. “Why not just race here on the track? Why risk it in the streets?”

I smirked, looking from Max to Lando. “You guys have the luxury of controlled environments, state-of-the-art technology, teams with backup plans, safety nets. In street racing, it’s just you, your car, and the road. No guarantees. No room for mistakes. And no rules.”

Lando whistled, clearly impressed. “Sounds wild.”

“You have no idea,” I replied, a familiar rush of adrenaline creeping into my veins at the thought of hitting the streets again.

Max narrowed his eyes slightly, watching me closely. “You ever think about going pro instead of in the streets?”

I shook my head, the answer coming easily. “Never. The streets are where I belong. It’s unpredictable. Real. There’s no comparison.”

There was a beat of silence as both Max and Lando absorbed what I’d said. I could see the gears turning in their heads, trying to wrap their minds around a world that was so different from theirs.

Max finally spoke, his tone thoughtful. “Sounds like you live for that kind of chaos.”

I met his gaze head-on, unflinching. “I live for the freedom. Pros are incredible, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about the streets… it’s addictive. You don’t have to answer to anyone, don’t have to play by anyone else’s rules.”

Lando grinned, clearly itching to learn more. “So… can we come watch?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t think this scene is your style, Norris.”

Lando pouted in mock disappointment. “Come on, I can handle a bit of chaos.”

Max, on the other hand, looked more serious, his intense gaze still focused on me. “You sure it’s safe?”

I smiled, the rush of anticipation bubbling under my skin. “It’s never safe. That’s the whole point.”

Another buzz from my phone made me glance down again. Time was ticking. If I was going to make the race, I needed to leave soon. But standing here with two of the biggest names in F1, something struck me—this weird, unexpected overlap between their world and mine. Maybe they didn’t get it, but they were curious. And in some strange way, that made me feel… seen.

I looked back up at them, a grin spreading across my face. “I’ve gotta go. Race is starting soon.”

Lando’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “So, what? You just… show up and race?”

“Pretty much,” I said, turning to leave. “Wish me luck.”

Max stepped forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he wanted to say something else. “Good luck, Y/N.”

I gave them a quick nod, feeling the adrenaline already building in my chest. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked away, disappearing into the paddock lights. My pulse was already pounding, my mind switching gears from the clean, controlled world of F1 back to the gritty, dangerous streets where I belonged.

As I made my way toward the exit, I could already hear the low roar of engines in the distance. The night wasn’t over yet, and neither was the thrill. The streets were calling. And I was more than ready to answer.

Shoot me a message if you would like to be added to the Taglist!

Taglist: @omgsuperstarg, @evesfile, @mellowluka, @ysnhua, @risu-es

[blackenedsnow]

IT'S ME AGAIN. DON'T ASK. Please don't question why I'm here, I only have drama in mind, but I have a desire for action.

Singer!reader with Bodyguard!sss(silver, sonic, shadow) team, Reader, a popular singer, was constantly giving concerts and releasing a new album every year and continuing to be popular, but she had a problem singing and performing constantly and after the concert, her voice was constantly muffled/hoarse this always got worried the bodyguards. Reader also delayed them just saying "don't be that worried about it omg..!" like shes mean girl type, Of course, the triple guards know that and they know her well, so they can't/didn't say much. In fact singing was a strength of hers, the songs she sang hooked/obsessed the people and helped them to love her even more. That's the good thing of her power. The bad thing is, if she sings a violent and scary melody or song, it becomes reality, but she didn't know it..yet.

Suddenly she got shot a few bullets in her chest while singing one of those kind of songs, but she kept singing to hide her pain, then a few minutes later of disaster and massive pain she fell to the ground and fans started or tried to help her but the other mean guards didn't let them as the fans began to curse the mean guards as a massive fight begin around them as the main triple guards came to the concert and tried to help her but she was already dying...the triple guards tried to save her as they failed and she died at the concert.

A star who is popular again after 10 years attracts the attention of 3 guards or not anymore guards they were normal hero hedgehogs again. Silver was the first to notice it, then shadow and sonic noticed too but had she changed much? İ MEAN MUCH. She has red hair, red sun-like pupils and a black tight jumpsuit. She also has a beauty mark below her right eye. After 3 hedgehogs tried and managed to get her attention at the concert, she suddenly stopped the concert and wanted to meet privately with 3 hedgehogs.

After entering her own private room she sneeringly smiled and looked at them as they really thought she was a dead popstar but she was faking her dead the whole time trying to recreate her singing power as she began to explain more and answered their question.

I leave you the back questions and the made-up story, You can say anything you want about why she's been acting dead so far..

take care of yourself! ⭐

voice of power

WARNING: Mentions of violence and injury, faked death

PAIRING: Sonic the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader, Shadow the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader, Silver the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader,

NOTE: Hey there! I’m always excited to hear your ideas and write what inspires you! I’m here for it all. :)

SUMMARY: You’re a powerful, world-famous singer with a voice that captivates and obsesses the masses, backed by an elite team of bodyguards: Sonic, Shadow, and Silver. But behind the glamour and success, there’s a price to pay.

The lights dimmed as you took center stage, basking in the deafening roar of the crowd. Their cheers, a familiar symphony of adoration, pumped through your veins like electricity. You flashed a confident smile as you gripped the microphone, your voice effortlessly weaving through the melody. Song after song, you captivated them, holding their hearts in the palm of your hand.

You were a sensation—a force of nature in the music world. No matter how many concerts you performed or albums you released, your popularity never waned. But tonight, like every other performance, the price for your talent was clear by the end.

As the final note echoed through the stadium, your voice, once powerful and sharp, had turned raspy and hoarse. You barely managed a breathy "thank you" before retreating backstage, leaving the crowd chanting your name in blissful ignorance of the strain you were under.

But your bodyguards? They knew.

Sonic was the first to greet you behind the curtain, his usual energetic smile slightly faltering when he saw the exhaustion on your face. “Another great show, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, your tone sharp but dismissive. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Silver and Shadow joined moments later, their expressions a little less carefree. Silver, always the worrier, frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your voice—”

“It’s fine!” you snapped, rolling your eyes. “God, you guys worry too much. It’s just hoarse. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Shadow, standing a bit farther back, crossed his arms, his red eyes studying you in silence. He, more than the others, had learned not to push you when you were like this. It was your way of coping after all.

Sonic glanced at Shadow, but he didn’t argue. He knew better, too. You were their responsibility, yes, but they’d learned over time how to navigate your prickly exterior. Still, the hoarseness in your voice was becoming too common to ignore, and they all knew it.

“You’ve been doing this a lot lately,” Silver muttered, glancing at the others for support. “We’re just… worried.”

You sighed dramatically, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a long sip. “Well, stop worrying. I’m fine. You guys need to chill.”

There it was—that edge in your voice, the cool dismissal. You weren’t cruel, not really, but you had a way of pushing them back whenever they got too close. You’d built walls to keep them from prying into things you didn’t want to talk about—like how drained you felt after every concert, or how your throat burned after singing. They weren’t allowed to worry about you, not if you had any say in it.

But deep down, they couldn’t help it. Because they knew you—better than anyone else.

Still, they held back, even as concern tugged at them. This was your routine. After every show, your voice would be rough, and after every show, you’d tell them not to worry. But as your bodyguards, they couldn’t just ignore it.

Sonic, Silver, and Shadow exchanged glances, silently agreeing to let it go for now. You were strong, and they respected that, but they’d seen enough to know when something wasn’t right.

“You’ve got more performances coming up,” Sonic said after a moment, rubbing the back of his head. “Just… don’t overdo it, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not some fragile little flower, you know,” you replied, shrugging him off as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I’ve got this under control.”

But they couldn’t shake the feeling that something was building, something you didn’t even realize. After all, they knew you weren’t just any singer. There was something different about you—something powerful about your voice that went beyond just captivating an audience.

And they feared that you might be playing with something you didn’t fully understand.

A few nights later, this specific night seemed perfect—just like every other concert. You were on stage, the crowd hanging on your every word, every note, just like always. The lights were bright, the music loud, and your voice—though a little strained—still commanded the room. But something felt different tonight.

The song you were performing wasn’t like your usual set. This one had a darker edge, a haunting melody that throbbed through the venue like a heartbeat. Your fans didn’t seem to mind, though. They were just as entranced as always, singing along, their faces lit with adoration.

But then, something snapped.

The first shot hit your chest before you even realized what was happening.

Pain. Sharp and all-consuming. It ripped through you, but you didn’t stop singing. You couldn’t. Your voice was your armor, your strength, and no matter what was happening, you couldn’t let the audience see you in pain. So you kept singing, your voice now layered with a hidden agony that none of them could sense—yet.

Another bullet. And another.

Your breath hitched, but the notes kept coming, your body trembling with the effort. The stage lights blurred in your vision, the sound of your voice fading under the roaring in your ears. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when all eyes were on you.

But the pain was unbearable.

It felt like your chest was on fire, the bullets lodged deep, your body betraying you. You clutched the microphone tighter, leaning into it for support as your legs began to give out. You didn’t care if it hurt. You didn’t care if—

Your knees buckled. The microphone slipped from your hand, and in a heartbeat, you hit the ground.

The crowd screamed.

Chaos erupted as the fans surged forward, trying to help you, but the security guards—a rougher, meaner bunch hired for the event—blocked their way, shoving people back. “Stay back!” they barked, their voices cold and unfeeling, as if they didn’t care that you were lying there, bleeding out in front of thousands of people.

The fans shouted, some of them screaming your name, others cursing the guards. Fists flew, and soon a full-blown riot broke out. The guards pushed back harder, forming a barrier around you as the concert dissolved into madness.

But you could barely see it anymore.

The pain was overwhelming, blurring the edges of your vision as blood pooled beneath you. The world spun, and your breath came in shallow gasps. The sounds around you—shouts, screams, the clashing of bodies—faded into the background.

Suddenly, through the haze, you saw them. Sonic, Shadow, and Silver were pushing through the chaos, their eyes locked on you. They moved fast, faster than you’d ever seen them, but it didn’t matter. You knew it was too late.

By the time they reached you, your chest was heaving, every breath a struggle. Sonic dropped to his knees beside you, his usual smile nowhere to be found. “Hey… hey, we’re here. You’re gonna be okay,” he said, though his voice wavered.

Shadow was already checking your wounds, his expression grim, while Silver hovered nearby, panic clear in his wide eyes.

But you knew. You could feel the life draining out of you, the strength that had always been there slipping through your fingers. You tried to speak, tried to tell them something—anything—but your voice was gone, replaced by a weak gurgle.

It was too late.

The world was already fading, the pain dulling as your body went cold. You could feel yourself slipping away, the noise of the concert—of the chaos—growing distant.

And then… just like that, you were gone.

Ten years had passed since the tragic night when your life was cut short on stage. The music world had mourned, and your three former bodyguards—Sonic, Shadow, and Silver—had each gone back to their roles as heroes. They tried to move on, but losing you had left a mark on each of them, a wound that never fully healed.

That was why, when Silver saw you again, standing under the bright lights of a new concert stage, his heart nearly stopped.

It wasn’t just the resemblance—it was you. He knew it, deep in his gut, despite the changes. You were different, transformed, but still undeniably you.

“Is that—” Silver muttered, wide-eyed, as he stared at the screen showing the concert.

Shadow, sitting nearby, followed Silver’s gaze. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the screen, a flicker of recognition flashing in his sharp red eyes. “It can’t be…”

But it was. Sonic, who had just walked into the room, caught sight of the broadcast and froze. “No way…” His usual carefree tone was gone, replaced by shock.

The three of them stared at the screen, watching in stunned silence as you moved across the stage, your presence commanding as always, but now with an even more magnetic pull. You hadn’t just changed physically—you were more powerful, more captivating than ever.

“I thought she was dead,” Sonic whispered, his voice barely audible.

Silver was the first to move, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. “We need to get to that concert.”

Shadow and Sonic exchanged a glance before following. They didn’t know how it was possible, but if you were back, they needed answers. And more than anything, they needed to see you again.

At the concert venue, the crowd was mesmerized by your performance. Every note you sang seemed to wrap around their minds, drawing them in deeper with every passing second. But your attention wasn’t on the audience—it was on the three familiar faces you’d spotted in the crowd.

Silver. Shadow. Sonic.

It had been years since you’d seen them, but the moment their eyes met yours, you knew it was time. You couldn’t continue the charade any longer.

Without warning, you stopped mid-song. The band fell silent, and the audience, confused and murmuring, watched as you raised a hand to signal the end of the concert.

“I want to meet three people,” you announced, your voice echoing through the venue. “Backstage. Now.”

The crowd erupted in whispers, confused but curious. The three hedgehogs were just as surprised, but they didn’t hesitate. Guided by a mix of disbelief and anticipation, they made their way backstage.

Once inside the privacy of your room, the atmosphere grew heavier. You leaned against the back of a lavish chair, your sun-like eyes gleaming with amusement as you looked over the three hedgehogs before you. For years, they had believed you were dead. The memory of that night, the blood, the chaos—it had been seared into their minds. And now here you stood, alive, and more powerful than ever.

A sneering smile curled at your lips as you crossed your arms, eyes flicking between them. “You really thought I was dead, huh?” You chuckled darkly. “You have no idea.”

Sonic’s fists clenched at his sides, confusion and shock flashing in his emerald eyes. “You died. We saw it happen. How… how are you standing here like nothing happened?”

Silver was quieter, still processing, while Shadow’s sharp gaze hadn’t left your face, his body rigid with tension as he waited for an explanation.

You straightened up, pushing off the chair and taking a slow step forward, your voice turning cold and calculated. “It was all a lie. Every single bit of it. I faked my death that night on stage.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. None of them spoke for a long moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

“Why?” Shadow asked, his voice low, almost growling. His red eyes were locked onto yours, demanding an answer.

You smiled again, this time more bitter than amused. “Because I had to. That night, when those bullets hit me, I realized something. My voice… it wasn’t just a talent. It was a weapon. A power. And I didn’t understand how to control it.” You took a deep breath, letting the gravity of your words sink in. “Every song I sang, every note I hit, could change the world around me. If I sang a sad song, the people listening would become depressed. If I sang something violent…”

Sonic flinched at the memory, recalling how the audience had descended into chaos after you were shot.

“I could have caused a disaster,” you continued, pacing slowly as you spoke. “That’s what was happening the night I ‘died.’ The bullets, the riot—it wasn’t just bad luck. It was me. My voice made it happen. I sang a violent song, and it became reality.”

Silver’s eyes widened, piecing things together. “So… you faked your death to stop it? To stop hurting people?”

You nodded. “Yes. After that night, I knew I wasn’t safe to be around anyone. My powers were too unstable, too dangerous. I couldn’t risk more people getting hurt. So I disappeared. For ten years, I’ve been hiding, working on controlling my abilities, on recreating them in a way that I can harness them—without all the chaos.”

Sonic’s face was twisted with a mix of emotions, hurt and anger mixing together. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve helped you. We thought you were gone forever!”

You looked away for a moment, guilt flickering across your features before hardening again. “Because I didn’t need your help. I needed time. Alone. You wouldn’t have understood what I was trying to do. I had to figure it out on my own.”

Shadow, silent until now, stepped forward, his voice steely. “And now? What’s changed? You’ve revealed yourself again. Why?”

Your lips curled into a dark smile once more, your red eyes glowing as you met his gaze. “Because I’ve perfected it. I’ve mastered my voice. I’ve become more powerful than ever before. And now… it’s time for me to reclaim the world I left behind. I’m not the same popstar you used to protect. I’m something more.”

Silver frowned, his voice quiet but filled with concern. “But what about the danger? What if it happens again?”

You tilted your head slightly, your smile fading as you looked at him. “That’s the thing, Silver. It won’t happen again. Because now, I’m in control. I can decide who lives, who loves, who fights… and who dies.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words sinking in. You were no longer the person they once knew. You were something far more dangerous—and far more powerful.

[kaiijo]

PARALLELS — OIKAWA TOORU

pairing: oikawa tooru x reader content: gn! reader, long distance relationship, light angst, fluff

when the cherry blossoms bloom, you think of oikawa. of days spent hunting for beetles at the base of the trunk when you, he, and iwaizumi were kids. afternoons in middle school when oikawa would roll his eyes at you and repeat again: “parallel lines will never intersect” and ignore your “what if”s. the evening when oikawa pulled you aside during your three-way graduation party and kissed you under the canopy of brown branches and pink flowers.

“oi,” iwaizumi’s gruff voice breaks you from your memories and he asks, “thinking about him again?”

“missing him, more like it,” you say. you glance back at the cherry blossoms, petals translucent in the light of the setting sun. you breathe in the fresh scent. you loop your arm through iwaizumi’s and drag him close to you for a selfie. he offers a small smile to the camera, a dim contrast to your beaming grin.

“we’ve gotta hustle,” he says, checking his watch. “gonna be late for the team dinner.”

“right.”

iwaizumi has the two of you power-walking down the street, thought it’s more like a light jog for you given your friend’s long, steady strides. you pass a convenience store down the street and you do a double take, stopping to stare at the magazine display in the window.

your boyfriend’s face is plastered on the glossy cover, his argentina uniform fitting him in all the right places. he smiles up at you for the paper, the blurb next to him promising a tell-all interview with juicy details. your eyes lock in on the words “love life” and “latest fling” and you can’t help but frown, stomach flipping slightly.

you know all of it is tabloid fodder, nothing but eye-catching headlines, and you trust and love oikawa with everything in you. still, you can’t deny the jealousy you feel when you see him cozied up with a beautiful, leggy model for a photo shoot. jealous that she gets to be physically present with him and you’re halfway around the world.

you hear iwaizumi urge you to come and you quickly catch up with him, your boyfriend’s blindingly white smile flashing through your mind.

the beach makes oikawa think of you. when your parents would take you guys there and you’d all run off to the tidepools and gawk at the starfish and crabs inside. when you two buried iwaizumi up to his neck in sand. when he would scoop you up and dunk you in the salty water, despite the shrieking pleas you let out, begging him not to.

oikawa sighs heavily. he leans against the balcony that over looks the seaside, watching the crystalline water ebb and flow. his phone pings on the small, glass-topped table behind him and he picks it up.

a notification lights up his screen: @.officialhinatashoyo mentioned you in a comment: we’re coming for you @.oikawatooru!!

oikawa opens his phone and finds hinata’s comment underneath a photo of japan’s national volleyball team enjoying drinks and food together.

he swipes through the photos, a bunch of group shots with other players (bokuto and hoshiumi are notable making stupid faces in many of them). oikawa stares at the last picture. hinata’s got his arms thrown around your shoulders and he’s clearly said something that has you giggling right at it was taken.

hinata’s tagged you but he also mentions you in the caption, thanking you for taking these pictures and every other photo of them as the official photographer for the team.

oikawa tries to push down the hollowness spreading in his chest, zooming in on your face. you’re glowing — you always are — and he’s happy you’re happy, but there’s the undeniably envious part of him that wishes he was there. making you laugh and smile. maybe sneaking in a kiss or two in between.

he loves playing for argentina; he likes his teammates, the country, and is grateful for how he’s grown, but he’ll never stop missing you when you’re this far away.

oikawa thinks his thumb moves on its own, dialing your number with practiced ease. he memorized it right after you got your phone, begged his mother to let him get a phone so he could input your contact immediately.

you pick up on the first ring and oikawa can’t hear your very well. he assumes that you’re still out with the team, ears straining. you say, “wait, hold on, tooru.”

he thinks he hears atsumu in the background, “ooh! you’ve got a boyfriend! you’ve got a boyfriend!” and he definitely hears you reply, “this is why you get no bitches, ‘tsumu.”

your voice gets clearer as the background noises fades. “hi, love,” you say, and oikawa can’t help but grin at the words.

“hi, baby,” he says. “you picked up quick! you must really like me, huh?”

you chuckle, “something like that. everything okay?”

“yeah, i just wanted to hear your voice.”

“now who’s the one who likes who?” you tease.

his smile only grows. “you know it. i’m obsessed.”

“right back at you, love.” there’s a short lull in the conversation, but it’s not uncomfortable or awkward. it never is with you two.

oikawa’s alarm breaks the silence, the buzzing of the alert sending vibrations through his hand. he frowns. “i’m sorry, baby, i’ve got to get ready for practice.”

“alright. i miss you and love you, tooru. have a good practice. we need you in top form for internationals.”

he laughs. “yeah, you better tell the guys to watch out. especially ushiwaka and tobio.”

“i let them know.”

“i miss you and love you two.”

“we’ll talk later.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE MAFIA BOSS KUROO TETSUROU HEADCANONS

Kuroo as a mafia boss would be stronger than usual, fierce, ferocious and hell even DEADLY to his enemies. His gang Nekoma along with Karasuno are the topmost mafia gangs in the country and they team up together sometimes to wipe out their competition. One day as the Nekoma members were coming back from a mission which btw, involved causing some chaos and stirring up some ruckus for their rival gang Shiratorizawa without the Karasuno members, as his gang members were talking about how stupid their henchmen were and how predictable and easy they were to attack, Kuroo stayed silent since his head was throbbing a little and had a headache. He just needed some god damn peace once in a while and so, he stayed silent as he rubbed his temples in annoyance and glanced at the setting sun. As his eyes wandered around the place, he then noticed you sitting on a tree branch, trying to rescue a cat that got stuck up a tree. 'What the heck is that girl doing?' he was confused and yet, he began to watch you with fascination but grew alarmed when he realized the branch was about to break. He then quickly raced over to you to protect you from hitting the ground and asked you if you were all right. Then, he winked at you and said, ''Stay safe sweetheart, don't wanna go getting in trouble again now do we?'' and with that, he went on his way while his friends were just looking at him like deer caught in headlights. Some of them teased him about it and Kenma kept his cool since he was sensible not to do stupid shit like teasing the bossman

After some days, he slowly started to think of you and he grew obsessed with you. He ordered his men to find out more about you, what your interests were, relationships with people, which he hated since he was convinced that they were just trying to use and taint a sweet precious little thing like you, your dislikes, your favorite places to go and hang out and stuff like that. Heck, he'll even send Kenma and Lev to keep an eye on you for your safety which in modern terms is what we call 'Stalking'

He'll kidnap you after a few weeks or so after he's sure he knows everything about you but he'll be prepared to stock your favorite books, chocolates, warm fuzzy blankets, movies, stuffed animals and maybe even a pet like that cat you've rescued from the tree that day. He knows you'll be confused, scared and worried and hence, he'll take his time and be very sweet and kind and caring and patient with you to let you adjust to your new home

The other members of his gang will warm up to you and they'll be platonic yanderes for you, congratulations. Kenma is in charge of your security since Kuroo trusts him alot. No one dares to flirt with you and may the gods save them if someone does something stupid as that

If you try acting up or try escaping, he's just going to be hurt and heartbroken and so, instead of punishing you and locking you in a room and all that dark shit, he'll cuddle you instead and kiss you softly telling you how he should have paid more attention to you

He loves cuddle sessions with you and feels very relieved when you run and rake your fingers through his hair. He finds it very relaxing

Will never yell at you, or raise his hands at you or HECK, he won't even manipulate you emotionally or physically. He thinks you deserved to be treated like an angel and best believe it, he WILL treat you like one

Some idiot during a mafia meeting found out about you and tried touching you in an inappropriate manner and Kuroo had the most scariest and fiercest glare as he just broke that person's jaw and shot him in the head like, 5 times and then seethed in rage, ''No one touches what's mine!''. Later on when he saw how nervous you were about the whole thing, you guys snuggled with each other, Kuroo comforting you and eating cup noodles with some light jazz playing softly with some dim lights on

Loves you alot and he's gonna make you sit on his lap during meetings which will make you shy and you'll be even MORE flustered when he kisses your neck, cheek and leaves hickeys all over you or grabs you from behind. What? He's just trying to prove everyone that you're his.....