#back in the days we’d give anything and everything

[enemiestolovershoe]

Silent Tension

Matt Sturniolo x enemie!reader

Summary: Matt and Y/N were best friends until one argument turned them into enemies. Will they ever find a way back to each other?

Warnings: arguments, fighting, making out, lmk if you find anything else.

Words: 5.2k

The kindergarten days felt like a lifetime ago now. Back then, the four of you were inseparable. Matt, Nick, Chris, and you were a perfectly chaotic little crew, spending recess planning adventures and sticking together against anyone who dared mess with one of you. Matt had been your closest match back then—quick-witted, stubborn, and full of ideas. You thought that bond would never break.

But high school changed everything.

It started small, with arguments over who got shotgun during group rides. Then came the endless bickering about group projects and plans. By sophomore year, the fights had escalated into something sharper, something mean.

“You can’t just do everything yourself,” Matt said one night, frustration thick in his voice.

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle it!” you snapped back, shoving a notebook into your bag after another group study session gone wrong.

Nick, sprawled on the couch with a soda in hand, raised an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. Here we go again.”

“You’re such a control freak,” Matt muttered, crossing his arms.

“And you’re lazy,” you shot back without missing a beat.

Chris, ever the calm one, stepped in. “Alright, that’s enough. Can we focus? This isn’t helping anyone.”

But Matt wasn’t done. “You think you’re better than everyone else because you plan everything to death. Newsflash: it’s annoying.”

“At least I don’t sit around waiting for other people to pick up the slack!”

“Guys, please!” Chris sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Nick grinned, throwing a pillow at Matt. “Yeah, cool it, bro. You’re scaring Chris.”

By junior year, the tension had spread beyond school. Group hangouts became a minefield.

One night at the mall, Matt and you ended up in yet another screaming match over something stupid.

“All I’m saying is, we didn’t need to spend an hour waiting for you to pick out a stupid hoodie,” Matt said, throwing up his hands as the group headed back to Nick’s car.

“It wasn’t just about the hoodie, Matt,” you snapped, glaring at him. “Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, we’d actually enjoy going out as a group.”

“Impatient? You’re the one who wasted everyone’s time.”

Nick piped up from the backseat, turning to grin at Chris. “Think we should start selling tickets? This is better than reality TV.”

Chris shot Nick a look. “Not helping.”

“Whatever,” Matt muttered. “Next time, just leave me out of it.”

“Gladly,” you said, slamming the car door behind you.

The ride home was silent, the air thick with unresolved anger.

Then there was the infamous beach trip during senior year. What should’ve been a relaxing day turned into yet another battlefield.

“Can you at least try to help with the setup?” you asked, struggling to hammer an umbrella into the sand while Matt sat under the shade of a nearby tree, scrolling on his phone.

“I’m supervising,” he said with a smirk, not even glancing up.

“You’re useless,” you muttered under your breath, loud enough for him to hear.

“Excuse me?” Matt stood up, his tone sharp.

“You heard me.”

Nick and Chris exchanged a look, already bracing for the explosion.

“Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, people would actually want to help you,” Matt shot back.

“Maybe if you weren’t so lazy, people wouldn’t have to pick up your slack,” you retorted, standing toe-to-toe with him now.

Nick broke the tension with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, Mom and Dad, can we chill? Some of us are here to, like, enjoy the beach.”

Chris stepped between you two, his voice calm but firm. “Seriously, stop. This is getting old.”

You stormed off, muttering under your breath about how impossible Matt was. He didn’t try to follow.

By the time you were 21, things were worse than ever. Group events had become rare, mostly because no one wanted to deal with the inevitable clash between you and Matt.

At one game night, the tension boiled over again.

“Can you not cheat for once in your life?” Matt snapped as you reached for a card in a particularly heated game of Uno.

“I’m not cheating, you idiot. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d actually win for once.”

Chris sighed from his spot beside you, his patience clearly wearing thin. “It’s a card game. Can we not turn this into World War 3?”

Matt ignored him, leaning forward with a scowl. “You always do this. You can’t handle losing, so you find some way to bend the rules.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect. I forgot you’re the expert on everything.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Man, y’all really need couples therapy.”

“Nick, shut up,” you and Matt said in unison, which only made him laugh harder.

Chris stood up, clearly done. “Okay, game night’s over. You two can keep fighting, but I’m not babysitting anymore.”

As Chris walked out of the room, Nick looked between you and Matt with a smirk. “So, who’s gonna admit they’re in love first?”

You threw a pillow at him. “Nick, I swear—”

Matt scoffed, crossing his arms. “As if.”

“Exactly,” you snapped, glaring at him. “You’d be the last person I’d ever—”

“Good! Glad we’re on the same page,” Matt interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nick laughed again. “Man, you two are exhausting. But, like, in a fun way.”

Chris peeked back in from the hallway, his calm voice cutting through the chaos. “You’re not fun. You’re a headache. Both of you.”

As the tension settled for the night, you couldn’t help but wonder how it had come to this. Somewhere along the way, the friendship you once had with Matt had turned into a battlefield, and neither of you seemed willing to wave the white flag.

It was a sweltering summer afternoon, the kind that made everyone irritable. You’d come over to hang out with Chris and Nick, hoping to escape the heat and distract yourself from a long week. Matt, as usual, was there too.

From the moment you walked in, you could feel the tension. It was always there with Matt—humming under the surface, waiting for one of you to ignite it.

“Alright, who’s down for a Mario Kart tournament? Loser buys slushies,” Nick said, grabbing controllers from the cabinet.

Chris nodded. “I’m in. But Nick, you’re buying either way.

Nick grinned. “Bold of you to assume.”

You grabbed a controller, feeling a flicker of competitiveness. “Hope you’re ready to lose, Nick.”

Matt, leaning against the counter, crossed his arms. “You should worry about yourself. You’ve never beaten me.”

You rolled your eyes. “There’s a first time for everything.”

The game started off fine—until you accidentally bumped Matt’s character off the track.

“Oh, come on!” Matt exclaimed, leaning forward. “You did that on purpose.”

“It’s called strategy,” you shot back, grinning.

Matt’s scowl deepened as the race continued. When the final lap ended, your character crossed the finish line ahead of his. You threw your hands up triumphantly. “Yes! Finally!”

Matt tossed his controller onto the couch, glaring at you. “You only won because you cheated.”

You blinked, the excitement draining from your face. “How did I cheat?”

“You bumped me off the track,” Matt said, his tone accusatory.

“That’s part of the game, Matt,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. “You’re always like this—always cutting corners to get ahead.”

“Cutting corners?” you repeated, standing up. “It’s a stupid game. Maybe if you weren’t such a sore loser, you’d actuallyhave fun.”

“Oh, I’m the sore loser?” Matt said, getting to his feet as well.

Nick, sensing the brewing storm, raised his hands. “Alright, time out. It’s just Mario Kart, guys.”

Chris sighed, already rubbing his temples. “Can we not?”

But the two of you were locked in now.

“You always do this,” Matt said, his voice rising. “You act like you’re better than everyone else, but you’re just as petty as the rest of us.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one making a big deal out of this!”

“Oh, because you’re so perfect, right?” Matt shot back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “You can’t handle being called out, so you turn it around on me.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so impossible to deal with!”

Chris stood up, his calm demeanor cracking slightly. “Seriously, enough. This isn’t worth fighting over.”

“Stay out of it, Chris,” Matt said, not taking his eyes off you.

Chris frowned but didn’t argue.

“You know what your problem is?” Matt continued, stepping closer. “You’re so controlling. Everything has to be your way, and if it’s not, you freak out.”

“I’m not controlling,” you snapped. “I’m just tired of cleaning up after you all the time!”

Matt scoffed. “Cleaning up after me? You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Nick tried to step in again, his voice light but firm. “Guys, seriously, take a breath. Go outside or something.”

But it was too late. The fight was spiraling.

“Don’t I?” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re lazy, Matt. You never help with anything unless someone forces you to, and then you complain the whole time.”

“Oh, I’m lazy?” Matt shot back, his voice sharp. “At least I don’t bulldoze over everyone like you do. You think you’re so much better because you plan everything to death, but really, you’re just scared of messing up.”

Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected. “Wow. Thanks for the insight, Dr. Matt. Maybe if you spent less time tearing me down, you’d actually accomplish something for once.”

Matt’s face darkened. “Tearing you down? You’re the one who’s always on my case. Every little thing I do, you have something to say about it.”

“Because you make it so easy!”

“You know what? I’m done,” Matt said, throwing his hands up. “You’re exhausting. No wonder people can’t stand being around you.”

“Excuse me?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Matt didn’t back down. “It means maybe your ex had a point.”

The room went silent.

Chris and Nick both froze, their eyes snapping to Matt in disbelief.

“What did you just say?” you asked, your voice low and unsteady.

Chris stepped forward, his voice firm. “Matt, don’t.”

But Matt ignored him. “Maybe your ex wouldn’t have cheated on you if you weren’t so suffocating.”

Your stomach dropped. Tears pricked your eyes as his words sunk in. “You’re unbelievable.”

Chris immediately stepped in, standing between you and Matt. “That’s enough. You’ve crossed the line.”

Nick’s voice was louder now. “Matt, what the hell is wrong with you?”

But Matt wasn’t done. “I’m just saying what everyone else is too scared to say.”

Your hands shook as you struggled to hold back tears. “You’re such a coward,” you said, your voice breaking. “You can’t handle your own issues, so you take them out on me. Well, congrats, Matt. You finally broke me. Are you happy now?”

Tears streamed down your face as you turned away, unable to look at him anymore.

Chris stepped forward, his calm voice laced with anger. “Go to your room. Now.”

Matt hesitated, glaring at you one last time before storming off, slamming his door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Chris turned to you, his expression softening. “Hey, come here.”

You let out a shaky breath as he pulled you into a hug.

“Why does he hate me so much?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “What did I do to make him like this?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Chris said softly, rubbing your back. “He’s just… an idiot.”

Nick grabbed a glass of water and handed it to you. “Yeah, a massive idiot. Like, the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out as a sob. “I can’t keep doing this, Chris. Every time I come here, it’s like he’s waiting to tear me apart.”

Chris pulled back, cupping your face gently so you’d meet his eyes. “Listen to me. You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s just angry—at himself, at whatever—but it’s not about you.”

“Then why does it feel like it is?” you whispered, tears still streaming down your face.

Chris sighed, pulling you back into a hug. “I don’t know. But I’m going to fix it, okay? I promise.”

Nick sat beside you, patting your shoulder. “Yeah, and if he doesn’t apologize, I’ll pants him in public.”

You let out a weak laugh, wiping your eyes. “Thanks, Nick. That’s… oddly comforting.”

Chris stayed by your side, his calm presence steadying you as you tried to piece yourself back together. But no matter how much he reassured you, Matt’s words lingered, cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

About an hour had passed since the fight, and the tension in the house still hung heavy in the air. You were curled up on the couch with Chris, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder. Nick sat on the floor in front of you, scrolling through his phone and cracking occasional jokes to try and lighten the mood.

You’d stopped crying, but your chest still felt tight, your breathing shallow. Every time you thought about what Matt had said, it was like the wound reopened.

Chris’s hand absentmindedly rubbed your arm. “You good?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, though you didn’t feel entirely okay. “Better. Thanks for… you know, being here.”

“Always,” he said softly.

Nick glanced over his shoulder with a faint grin. “If you need me to distract you, I can pull up Matt’s senior photo. That thing’s a crime against humanity.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Thanks, Nick. I think I’ll pass.”

Just then, footsteps sounded from the stairs. Matt was coming down, his movements hesitant but deliberate.

Your stomach immediately twisted into knots, and you stiffened against Chris.

He noticed immediately. “Relax,” Chris whispered. “You’re safe.”

Nick, sensing the shift, turned to Matt with a warning look. “If you’re coming down to start something again, you can turn right back around and go upstairs.”

Matt shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not here to fight.”

You looked at him warily, unsure of what to expect.

“Actually,” Matt continued, his voice quieter than usual, “I wanted to talk to Y/N. Alone.”

You stiffened even more, your breath catching in your throat. “What for? So you can tear me apart again? Bring up my past and rub salt in the wound?” Your voice cracked, still raw from earlier.

Matt winced, his jaw tightening. “No. I’m not here to do that. I… I want to apologize. But I’d rather do it one-on-one.”

Chris’s grip on your shoulder tightened protectively. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he said, his calm tone carrying a slight edge.

“Yeah,” Nick chimed in, crossing his arms. “She’s been through enough today. Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of us.”

Matt shook his head. “Look, I get it. I’ve been a total dick, okay? But I need to fix this, and I can’t do that with you two hovering.” He turned to you, his gaze earnest. “Please, Y/N. Just give me five minutes. I promise, no fighting. No bringing up the past.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. You didn’t trust him—not after everything—but there was something different in his tone. He didn’t sound like the sharp, defensive Matt you’d been clashing with for years. He sounded… vulnerable.

Chris’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Nick nodded. “Seriously. You’ve got nothing to prove to him.”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking between Matt and his brothers. Part of you wanted to shut him down, to tell him to leave you alone. But another part—the part that was tired of the constant fighting—wanted to hear him out.

You let out a shaky breath. “What do you want to talk about?”

Matt glanced at the door, then back at you. “We still need to grab those slushies. We can talk on the way there. Neutral ground.”

Chris frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Matt said, his voice firm but not aggressive. “I just… need to talk. Please.”

You looked at Chris and Nick, then back at Matt. Against your better judgment, you slowly nodded. “Fine. But if you say anything—anything—like what you said earlier, I’m leaving. Got it?”

Matt nodded immediately. “Got it. No low blows. I swear.”

Chris sighed, his hand lingering on your shoulder as you stood up. “You sure about this?”

“No,” you admitted, your voice still shaky. “But I’ll be fine.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Text me if you need a rescue mission.”

You gave him a faint smile. “I will.”

Matt grabbed his keys and held the door open for you, waiting as you slipped on your shoes. Your anxiety bubbled in your chest as you stepped outside, the warm summer air doing little to ease the tension in your body.

You glanced back at Chris and Nick, who were watching you like hawks from the couch. Chris gave you a small nod, his silent way of telling you that he had your back no matter what.

“Let’s go,” Matt said quietly, leading the way to his car.

As you got in, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to say—and if you’d regret giving him the chance.

You slid into the passenger seat, the car’s interior thick with unspoken tension. Matt climbed into the driver’s seat, closing the door with a quiet click. He rested his hands on the steering wheel but didn’t start the engine. Instead, he leaned back, staring straight ahead, his jaw tightening and loosening as if trying to find the right words.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“I am so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, his voice low but steady. “I don’t even know where to start. I—I don’t know what got into me earlier, but I regret it. Deeply. More than I can even put into words.”

You turned to look at him, studying his face. There was no trace of his usual anger or smugness. He looked… tired. Defeated.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. “I was out of line. Way out of line. What I said about your past, about your ex—it was cruel, and it wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that. Not then, not ever.”

You stayed quiet, unsure of what to say, but he continued.

“The truth is… I’ve been carrying around all this anger for so long. At first, I thought it was because you were always pushing my buttons or calling me out. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s not about you at all. It’s about me. I’ve been projecting my own shit onto you, and that’s not okay.”

His hands tightened on the wheel as he glanced at you briefly, guilt etched into every line of his face. “You’ve been nothing but honest with me, and I’ve thrown that back in your face every chance I got. I don’t even know why. Maybe because it was easier to lash out at you than to deal with my own crap. But that’s not an excuse. I’ve hurt you, over and over again, and I hate myself for it.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard.

“I guess… I’ve been jealous of you,” Matt admitted, his voice quieter now. “You’ve always had this way of handling things—like, you’re so driven, so put-together. Even when things fall apart, you don’t let it stop you. And I hated that because it made me feel like a mess in comparison. Like I couldn’t measure up.”

“Matt…” you started, but he held up a hand.

“Please, let me finish,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “I know that doesn’t justify anything. I’ve been a shitty friend. Hell, I haven’t even treated you like a friend. I’ve treated you like someone I could take my frustrations out on, and I’m so, so sorry for that. I’m sorry for all the fights, all the insults, all the times I made you feel like you weren’t enough. Because you are enough, Y/N. More than enough.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away, unsure if you were ready to forgive him yet.

Matt turned to face you fully now, his eyes earnest and a little glassy. “I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me, like you have to walk on eggshells every time we’re in the same room. You’ve always been there for my brothers, for all of us, and I’ve done nothing but push you away. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing. “I know I’ve got a long way to go to make things right. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I’m asking for a chance—a chance to show you that I can be better, that I want to be better. Not just for you, but for myself too.”

You felt your lip tremble as you tried to process everything he’d just said. The rawness of his apology, the vulnerability in his voice—it was so unlike the Matt you’d been clashing with for years.

Matt reached over hesitantly, his hand hovering near yours on the center console. “I mean it, Y/N. Every word. I’m sorry. And if there’s anything I can do to prove it to you, just tell me. I’ll do it.”

For a moment, you sat there in silence, his words hanging heavy in the air. Then, finally, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. “Why didn’t you just tell me all of this before? Instead of… everything else?”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Because I’m an idiot. And because it was easier to pretend it was your fault than to admit I was the one with the problem.”

You looked down at his hand, still hovering near yours, and after a moment of hesitation, you placed yours over it. His fingers curled around yours gently, as if he were afraid to scare you off.

“Matt…” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m not saying everything’s magically okay now. But… I appreciate you saying all of this. I really do.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “That’s all I can ask for.”

You looked down, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand. There was something vulnerable in the air between you two, a tension that was unfamiliar and heavy but not unwelcome. For once, Matt didn’t feel like your enemy. He felt like someone who was finally trying to understand you.

“Can I…” Matt hesitated, his voice unusually soft. “Can I hug you?”

You blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden question. But the sincerity in his eyes made you nod without thinking.

“Yeah,” you murmured.

He exhaled in relief and leaned over, wrapping his arms around you carefully, almost as if he were afraid you might pull away. His embrace was warm, solid, and it took you a moment to relax into it. But when you did, you felt a strange sense of comfort, the kind you hadn’t felt around him in years.

You rested your head against his chest, and his hand came up to gently cradle the back of your head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his voice muffled but still so close to your ear.

“I know,” you replied softly.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped in the quiet, tentative warmth of his arms. It felt like the weight of all those years of tension was melting away, even if only for a moment.

Eventually, you shifted slightly to look up at him, and Matt looked down at you. His expression was open, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him before. For a brief second, neither of you moved, and the world outside the car seemed to fade away.

You hadn’t realized how close you were until your eyes dropped to his lips. They parted slightly, and his breath hitched. His gaze flicked to your mouth, and suddenly, it felt like the air in the car had grown impossibly heavy.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice low and unsure, as if testing the waters.

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering as you both leaned in, hesitantly at first. There was a moment’s pause, so brief it was almost imperceptible, and then your lips met.

The kiss was soft, tender, and filled with a quiet kind of desperation. It wasn’t rushed or messy; it was careful, like neither of you wanted to break whatever fragile thing had just been built between you.

Matt’s hand slipped from your back to your waist, pulling you just a little closer as his lips moved against yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself responding instinctively, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The kiss deepened slightly, and Matt tilted his head to the side, his nose brushing against yours. It was intimate in a way that left your heart pounding, your mind spinning.

Without breaking the kiss, Matt reached down and adjusted the seat lever, pulling it back to give you more room. His hands settled on your waist, gently guiding you over the center console and into his lap.

You let out a soft gasp against his lips as you straddled him, your knees pressing into the seat on either side of him. His hands stayed firm on your hips, grounding you as his lips continued to move against yours, slow but deliberate.

It was new, unfamiliar, and completely overwhelming—but it didn’t feel wrong. For once, it felt like the two of you weren’t at war. You weren’t fighting or tearing each other down. You were just… there, together, in a moment that felt like it belonged to no one else but you.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been kissing Matt, but it felt like time had stopped. The warmth of his hands on your waist anchored you, and the way his lips moved against yours felt so natural, so unlike anything you’d ever expected from him.

Between kisses, Matt pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice a little breathless. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” He trailed off, a rare flush creeping up his neck.

You blinked at him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “You’ve never what?”

He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve never thought this would happen. Us. Like this. And… I kind of hate myself for waiting so long.”

His honesty left you momentarily stunned. This was Matt—your rival, the person who could always get under your skin. And yet, sitting here, holding you like you were the most fragile thing in the world, he wasn’t that Matt at all.

“Well, it’s happening now,” you said softly, a small smile playing on your lips. “And I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you completely, but… this feels different. You feel different.”

“I am,” he promised, his thumb grazing your cheek. “I swear, I am.”

You leaned back into the kiss, this time with less hesitation and more certainty. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer as the tension melted into something softer, more electric.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips between kisses. “I don’t want this to stop. But… if you want me to slow down, justsay the word.”

You shook your head slightly, brushing your nose against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His lips curved into a faint smile before they captured yours again. It wasn’t rushed or chaotic; it was patient, deliberate like he wanted to savor every second.

But just as you started to lose yourself in the moment, there was a sharp knock on the passenger-side window.

You froze, your eyes widening in panic as you turned to see Nick and Chris standing outside the car, smirking like they’d just won the lottery.

Matt groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, his hands reluctantly dropping from your waist.

“Guess we’re busted,” you whispered, unable to stop the embarrassed smile that tugged at your lips.

Sliding off Matt’s lap, you scrambled back into the passenger seat, smoothing out your shirt and running a hand through your hair. Matt rubbed the back of his neck, looking equally flustered but unable to hide the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Rolling down the window, you were met with Nick and Chris’s grinning faces.

“We just wanted to make sure you didn’t kill each other,” Chris said, barely holding back laughter. “We didn’t see the car drive away, so, you know, better safe than sorry.”

Nick leaned down, his grin absolutely wicked. “But clearly, you two found a different way to sort things out.”

“Real mature, Nick,” you shot back, though your cheeks were burning.

Matt leaned over the console, his arm casually draped across the back of your seat as he looked at his brothers. “Do you guys not have better things to do than stalk me?”

“Stalk you?” Nick gasped in mock offense. “We were concerned. Imagine our relief when we came out here and saw you weren’t choking each other—though, to be fair, this is definitely the opposite of what we expected.”

Chris snickered. “Honestly, I’m just shocked Y/N didn’t punch you in the face. Progress, I guess.”

You glanced at Matt, and to your surprise, he was smiling—not the smug, teasing smile you were used to, but a genuine one that softened his whole face.

“You know,” Matt said, his voice calm, “for once, I’m kind of glad you two interrupted. Otherwise, we might’ve stayed in here all night.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you smacked his arm playfully. “Matt!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as he held up his hands. “Just being honest.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Well, as much as I hate to break up this little love fest, are you guys still getting the slushies? Or were you planning to sit here making out until the sun comes up?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I can’t deal with you two.”

“Hey, you chose this life,” Nick quipped, winking.

Matt laughed, and to your surprise, the sound was lighthearted, even happy. He reached for the keys and started the car, shooting a glance at his brothers. “Don’t wait up.”

“Oh, we’re definitely waiting up,” Chris said with a grin. “This is going straight into the group chat.”

“Nick,” you groaned, giving him a pointed look, “if you just type one word—”

“I make no promises,” Nick interrupted, stepping back from the car as Matt began reversing out of the garage.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but glance at Matt, your chest still fluttering from everything that had just happened. He caught your gaze and smiled, his hand resting on the console between you.

“Still okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

And for the first time in years, you actually meant it.

[plaudite-amici]

Things we loved passionately in our teens but we don’t write academic papers about don’t disappear from our lives, they fossilise into passwords.

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ CRAZY GOOD .ᐟ — itoshi sae

hold up, netizens. you’re in for a treat this time because guess what? out of all people, it’s time for itoshi sae to hard launch his girlfriend: you.

itoshi sae x female reader. content tags pro-player!sae, established relationship, profanity, kissing, kind of a tease here, he likes showing you off, oliver is the matchmaker. word count 1.5k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ hi guys i finally have some sae content for you all !!! >:) yes i’ve missed him , and no i didn’t abandon him :’) heh i hope all my sae lovers that are still here will like this mwah <3

there are many things that itoshi sae is good at.

soccer skills, one of them. snubbing people, the second. (that’s how he got the reputation of being rude—even if it’s not really true!) and three, not last and not least (but still substantially), it’s causing a buzz.

he caused a buzz the moment he debuted on the soccer field. his first game and he already made a name for himself. people started asking where he’d been his whole life (even if he was introduced to the people very early on), equating him to soccer megastars like cristiano ronaldo.

ever since that day, he’d been caught in the spotlight numerous times. mostly related to soccer, but some due to his personal life. more specifically, the media loves to take a guess on who he’s dating.

yeah, he’s had more than his fair share of dating rumours. if it were up to the media, sae would have had about thirty-four girlfriends by now and he’s only twenty-six this year. (go fish!)

but as many people do, almost everyone who consumes media content about sae is particularly interested in one thing that is shrouded in mystery: his dating life.

because despite all the rumours and whatnot, there’s never been any confirmation of any relationships at all. and no one in his circle has ever coughed anything up, so anything in that regard has been strictly hush-hush.

well, until tonight, when your boyfriend of six months invited you to one of his teammates’ high-profile birthday party.

“what, are you nervous?”

your boyfriend’s ever unbothered tone is still the same as when you first heard it a year ago. somehow you find it funny that one year later you’re living with the same guy you’d first found to be somewhat intolerable.

sighing, you try and zip up the back of your dress, looking into the mirror, making sure you have your best face on. “sae, you have fans that number in the millions, of course i’m nervous,” you comment, watching from the reflection in the mirror as sae saunters over to you, taking his hands out of his pocket.

he smirks at you through the mirror, his body pressed against you as he helps you zip your dress the rest of the way up, his lips right next to your ear. “i’ve never even seen you this nervous in front of me,” he says, poking a little fun at you as he gives you a light kiss on your temple.

a soft chuckle comes from him as you deadpan, obviously in much more distress than he’ll ever know. not that he’ll blame you; he’s used to the fame, you’re not. “relax, they’ll love you.”

“sae, they won’t.”

he shrugs. “yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees, earning a small slap on the arm—and he’s laughing again, though this time he tilts your chin up and gives you a long, slow kiss. the kind that takes your breath away everytime he does it. “but who cares? i love you.”

and there he goes, saying that as if it’s no big deal. making your heart beat so quickly it’s not funny. and before you know it, he’s whisking you away into the lobby where a personal towncar is ready and waiting, with the chauffeur and everything.

“geez, oliver sure loves to go over the top, huh?”

sae gives a sharp exhale at your comment. “hey, that’s your friend right there.”

you roll your eyes, getting in first and sticking your tongue out at him. “and you should be thanking him, without him we’d never have met.”

you look away from him right after saying that so you don’t see it, but sae’s smiling to himself, already thanking his lucky stars.

he thinks meeting you and getting to love you is the luckiest he’ll ever get in this lifetime.

by the time you’ve arrived at the venue—a hotel in the heart of the city—swarms of paparazzi already litter the streets outside. they’ve no doubt had their fill of the other soccer players and mega celebrities that have already arrived and are now ready for the real star of the night (aside from the birthday boy himself): itoshi sae.

of course, everyone’s expecting to see sae all by himself because that’s what usually happens; sae attending any and every event alone and unbothered by the scene. it’s never a surprise anymore, but sae’s a good payday and they’d never miss a single shot.

the moment sae exits the car, it sounds like there’s a million shutters pressed all at the same time, give or take a few milliseconds. (it’s nothing you’re used to.) he stands right where he got out for a few seconds, and even inside you can hear the amount of photographers just begging sae to look straight at them.

and if you think that’s rowdy enough, oh boy you’re in for a treat. because the moment the paparazzi realise that sae’s not, in fact, headed for the hotel just yet, you can hear just a few confused noises before it turns into even more pleading the moment they realise he’s opening your side of the door.

when he opens it and holds his hand out for you, that ever handsome smile on his face (which you forget that he only ever shows to you), you feel like you’re nearly blinded by all the flashes. you brave through it though, taking his hand and getting out of the town car, being greeted by the mass of photographers yelling out to you and sae.

“sae, who is that!”

“hey, girl! look over here! yes right there!”

“what’s your relationship?”

“obviously that’s his girlfriend! hey you!”

you’re a little wide-eyed, stunned at how chaotic this scene is. it’s easy to lose yourself in it, but as it always is, sae realises it whenever you are, and he’s quick to pull you back in.

in this case, he pulls you into his arms, a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he rests his forehead against yours.

“hey, focus on me, just me,” he whispers to you, eyes looking into yours, eyelashes fluttering against one another’s.

(the paparazzi are having a field day.)

“you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you ask him, chuckling because you only now realise what a fucking tease he is.

sae shrugs, pulling your hair away from your face. (he’s actually just really grateful to you for doing this for him when you don’t need to—when you’re happy to just be able to support him behind the scenes but he really just wants the world to know that you exist, because it’s a blessing, really.) “maybe i am.”

and this time your heart’s beating faster than you know it ever could, his teal blue eyes melting into your gaze, lips getting closer and closer to your own, his calloused hand on the back of your neck.

like clockwork, his lips sink into yours, his tongue snaking its way in. (and the crowd goes absolutely wild.) you’re both laughing at the panicked and hurried yells from the photographers, slowly pulling away from each other.

you reach your hand out to wipe your lipstick stain off his lips but he doesn’t let you, winking at you and leaning in to whisper, “let everyone know who i belong to.”

such a fucking tease.

not that you’re opposed, so you let him be, shaking your head and following him as he holds your hand and leads you in.

within the next hour, pictures of you and sae flood the internet. (notifications come flooding into your phone too.)

itoshi sae hard launches new relationship with mystery woman!

soccer world loses another bachelor—everything we know about itoshi sae’s presumed girlfriend

most of them are pictures of your kiss, with a good chunk of it being his lipstick-stained lips.

as you scroll through some of the articles your friends texted to you, you’re probably never going to be used to it. you’re probably going to be anxious over everything you do in public now.

a slight panic bubbles up in your chest, but then sae comes over, pulling you backwards into his embrace, looking over your shoulder at your phone.

“that quick, huh?”

and suddenly it’s like anxiety has never existed. because even if it may not seem like much, a year of knowing itoshi sae has made you feel safer than you ever did, knowing that he’s always there to catch you, to never make you feel alone.

you melt into his embrace, turning your head and giving him a kiss, your lipstick stain still on his lips.

“i fucking love you, itoshi sae.”

his eyes widen a little before they grow soft, arms pulling you even closer. “i love you too, stupid.”

(and while the two of you are getting all lovey-dovey at his party, oliver’s just slightly—a lot—upset that sae upstaged him during his own birthday party.)

“i fucking hate the both of you,” oliver groans.

[shybluebirdninja]

Growing Us

Summary       : Old Logan takes care of his pregnant wife. Note               : fluff

Logan’s POV

Her breathing was slow, steady, but I could tell she wasn’t asleep. I watched her from the doorway for a second, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. She was lying on her side, one hand resting on her growing belly, the other tucked under her pillow. My wife, strong as steel, but pregnancy was taking its toll on her.

I walked over, careful not to wake her if she had finally drifted off. As I got closer, she shifted, her eyes fluttering open and catching mine.

“Hey,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. She tried to sit up, but I quickly stepped forward, my hand resting on her shoulder.

“Easy, darlin’. You don’t need to move.”

She chuckled, but it was tired. “I’m fine, Logan.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said yesterday,” I muttered, sitting down beside her on the bed. “And the day before that. Doesn’t mean you don’t need to rest.”

She rolled her eyes, but I could see how exhausted she was. I’d never been one for all the baby talk or fussing over things, but seeing her like this—tired, carrying our kid—something inside me changed. Maybe it was that protective instinct or just the fact that she looked so damn beautiful, even when she was worn out.

“You’re hovering,” she teased, her hand reaching for mine.

I grunted, but my fingers wrapped around hers. “Not hovering. Just… watching over you.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, squeezing my hand. “I like when you’re like this. All soft.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Soft? Darlin’, I ain’t soft.”

She laughed again, and the sound was like music to my ears. It had been a rough few weeks for her—morning sickness that didn’t just stick to mornings, swollen feet, and a back that was giving her hell. I’d give anything to make it easier, but all I could do was be here. So, that’s what I did.

“You hungry?” I asked, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “I could make you something. Or try, anyway.”

Her face softened, but she shook her head. “I’m okay, Logan. Just tired.”

Tired was an understatement. Her eyes were heavy, but she was fighting it. Always trying to be strong, even when she didn’t have to be.

“Then rest,” I said, my voice gruff but gentle. “I got everything covered. You don’t need to do anything.”

Her hand drifted back to her belly, and I couldn’t help but follow it with my eyes. It still blew my mind that we were doing this—starting a family. It wasn’t something I thought I’d ever have, not with the life I’d lived. But here we were, her body growing the next part of us, and I couldn’t imagine anything more important.

“Feel the baby,” she whispered suddenly, her eyes lighting up.

I blinked, then reached out cautiously, my rough hand gently resting over hers on her belly. A moment passed, then I felt it—a small, faint kick.

My heart did something weird, tightening and swelling at the same time. I’d fought wars, survived hell, but this? This was something else.

“She’s strong,” I murmured, my hand lingering there.

“She is,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of warmth. “Just like her dad.”

I shook my head. “Nah. She gets that from you.”

We sat there for a while, neither of us saying much. I didn’t need words. This—just being here, feeling that life we’d created, seeing her in front of me—it was enough.

“Get some sleep,” I said after a while, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” she whispered, her hand still on mine.

Her eyes drifted closed, and I stayed where I was, watching over her like I always would.

[ha-rinrin]

A Chance at Something Better

summary: Jinx's brings a little girl to your home, hoping to give her something better than what she had.

Pairing; Jinx x fem!reader ( they're married)

wordcount: 3.1k

Authors note: I saw on TikTok this one video saying that Jinx adopted a child, soo thats what I tried to do even if I have zero knowledge of whaat going on🤞🏻. If you want more married content just tell me and I'll do it, I kinda liked the idea of you and Jinx adopting a kid so, tell me if you want more of it.

masterlist

You’re in the dim glow of Jinx’s hideout, the familiar hum of metal and machinery filling the air. Her workbench is littered with tools, scraps, and half-assembled parts, each piece part of a weapon you’re carefully crafting for her—a small, sleek pistol that packs a powerful punch. The faint scent of gunpowder lingers in the room, and you can hear the quiet drip of water echoing from somewhere deep within the cavernous walls.

The two long braids and her purple eyes come into view before she does, Jinx’s shadow moving just a second ahead of her as she slips into the room. She grins, her smile sharp yet playful, watching you like she’s seen her favorite person in the world—because you know, deep down, that’s exactly what you are.

The moment Jinx steps into the room, a prickle of awareness slides down your spine. You sense another presence. Instinct kicks in before reason, and in one swift motion, you reach for a pistol on the workbench and whip around, aiming it directly at the darkened corner just beyond Jinx.

Jinx’s eyes widen as she realizes where your attention has landed, her mouth parting in surprise. “Whoa, whoa! Easy there, sharpshooter,” she says, her tone a mix of amusement and shock. She holds up her hands. “Drop the gun, okay? There’s… no need for that.”

You keep your stance firm, the pistol steady in your hand. “Why is it here?” you ask, eyes narrowed, keeping your gaze locked on the shadows in the corner.

From the darkness steps a small, timid figure, her steps cautious but curious. She’s barely up to Jinx’s hip, with wild blue hair that nearly mirrors the shade Jinx once had. The girl peers up at you, big eyes full of a mixture of awe and trepidation.

Jinx glances at her, then back at you, her expression shifting to one of guilty excitement. “She’s here,” Jinx corrects, her voice softening as she looks at the girl. “I know I was gonna… ease you into this, but, well…” She shrugs, her mischievous smile returning. “Surprise?”

You keep your gaze steady, the girl’s shy eyes darting between you and Jinx. The situation feels surreal, and though you’ve lowered the gun, the tension is far from gone.

“Jinx,” you say, voice firm, “can we talk… in private?” You emphasize the last word, giving her a look that says you’re serious.

Jinx’s grin wavers, a flash of nervousness crossing her face. She glances down at the girl, patting her shoulder gently. “Isha, stay here, alright? Just for a second.” Her voice is soothing, trying to keep the girl at ease as she leads you further back, just out of earshot.

Once you’re out of Isha’s line of sight, you cross your arms, keeping your voice low. “Jinx, we agreed… if anything this big was gonna happen, we’d talk about it first.”

Her fingers fidget with the edge of her sleeve, and she bites her lip, a little sheepish. “I know, I know. I just… I couldn’t leave her there. She looked so scared, y/n. Like she’d seen the worst of the Lanes in one day. I tried to picture leaving her, but… it felt too close to everything I went through.”

You sigh, the frustration melting into something softer as you watch her, seeing the hint of vulnerability she rarely lets anyone glimpse. “I understand that, Jinx. But bringing someone into our lives like this—it’s… it’s not just about a good heart, you know?”

She runs a hand through her braids, glancing down, trying to meet your eyes without completely meeting them. “Look, I know I rushed it. But she’s got nobody else. No one who understands. And if I’m honest… I thought maybe, with us, she could have a chance.” She glances up at you with a hopeful, almost pleading look

You let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you glance back toward Isha, then back at Jinx. “We make weapons, Jinx. Bombs. There’s nothing about our lives that screams ‘safe’ or ‘stable’ for a kid. Adding her into this… it’s not exactly ideal, you know?”

Jinx bites her lip, visibly torn but resolute. “I know what we do isn’t exactly kid-friendly, but it’s not like we’re blowing things up every single day. We’ll be careful. And… maybe she doesn’t have to see all that. We could keep that part separate. We’d figure out a way.”

You shake your head, though a small part of you understands where she’s coming from. “It’s not just about keeping her out of the crossfire. You know as well as I do that our lives are unpredictable. We’re not exactly… parental role models.”

Jinx crosses her arms, her brows drawn as she stares at the ground. “Maybe. But I think we could be. I mean, we’re not the monsters the world sees us as.” Her voice softens, barely above a whisper, “Isha deserves better than what I had. She deserves a chance. And we’ve got each other, y/n. Doesn’t that count for something?”

You let her words sink in, feeling the weight of her solve. The idea still feels overwhelming—foreign, even—but the determination in her eyes, that unbreakable hope, reminds you why you love her.

You take a deep breath, glancing from Jinx to the tools and parts scattered across the room. “Look, Jinx, we’re married, and yeah, we’ve talked about a family someday. But this?” You gesture around the hideout, with weapons and half-finished bombs lying out in the open. “This isn’t exactly what I’d call a safe space for a kid. It’s dangerous—everything about what we do is dangerous.”

Jinx’s gaze doesn’t waver, her fingers laced in yours. “I know it’s risky. But I also know we’re more than the things we make here. We’ve made a life together, y/n. Maybe it’s not perfect or normal, but it’s ours. And Isha… she could be part of that.”

You sigh, feeling her conviction but unable to shake your hesitation. “Jinx, we can’t just decide this overnight. It’s not just about us anymore.”

Her grip tightens slightly, her eyes softening. “She needs us, y/n. We can give her a place where she’s not alone, where she doesn’t have to be scared all the time. We’ve got each other… isn’t that enough to try?”

You look down at your wedding ring, feeling its weight more than usual. The decision ahead is heavy, and Jinx’s fingers tracing the edge of the ring only intensifies that feeling. She meets your gaze, her voice soft. “I know we didn’t plan this, but when I saw her, I couldn’t walk away. She’s like me… like us. And she needs someone.”

You exhale, still unsure. “I know, but we’re not exactly the perfect environment for a kid. We’re surrounded by weapons and bombs, Jinx. This life... it’s dangerous.”

Her touch lingers on your wedding ring as she looks up at you, her expression sincere. “I get that. But when I was a kid, I had Silco… and he was all I had, even if it wasn’t perfect. I thought maybe we could give her something real—something better than what I had.”

You rub your forehead, feeling the weight of it all. “It’s not just about helping her. It’s about how much it’ll change our lives. Are we ready for that?”

Jinx squeezes your hand, her voice steady. “I don’t know, but I want to try. I want to give her a chance.”

You watch as Jinx’s eyes glisten, the faint shimmer of tears threatening to fall. Her usual bravado is gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable. You can see the weight of her words sinking in deeper than she lets on, the fear of repeating the past, of making the wrong choice.

Without thinking, you reach out and gently cup her face in your hands, your thumb brushing away the tear that escapes the corner of her eye. The action is tender, your touch grounding both of you in the midst of the storm.

"Hey," you say softly, your voice low but firm. "We don’t have to do this perfectly. But we need to know what we’re getting into, Jinx. It’s not just about the heart—it’s about everything that comes with it. The good, the bad… and the ugly."

Jinx sniffles, nodding as she leans into your touch. “I know. I just… I don’t want her to end up like me. Like I did back then.” She swallows, her voice trembling. “I just want to give her a shot at something better.”

You hold her gaze, your hands steady as you keep her close. “You’re not alone in this,” you say again, the words sounding stronger this time. “You won’t be doing it alone. And neither will she. We’ll figure it out together. No matter what.”

Jinx’s lip quivers, but she manages to hold your gaze. “I never thought I’d have a family. Hell, I didn’t even think I could be a part of one.” Her voice cracks, but she presses on. “But when I saw her, I saw that little version of me—someone who’s been left behind, someone who just needs a place to feel safe.”

You can’t help the tightness that forms in your chest as you listen. You know she’s right. It’s like a mirror to her past, the girl standing there alone, hoping for someone to care. You pull her into you, your embrace warm and solid. “We’ll make sure she has that. Safety. Love. A chance to be something more than what this place wants her to be.”

Jinx clings to you, a quiet sob escaping her. You can feel the depth of her emotions, the mixture of fear and hope swirling within her. She’s vulnerable right now, in a way you’ve rarely seen, and it makes everything feel more real.

"I don’t know if I can do this, but I’ll try," she murmurs against your chest, her voice muffled but full of determination. "I need you by my side. I need you to help me figure this out."

You hold her tighter, pressing a kiss to her hair. "We’ll figure it out, Jinx. Together. I’m not going anywhere."

You hold her close, letting the silence wrap around you both, the weight of the conversation settling between your hearts. Jinx’s breaths come a little easier now, though you can still feel the trembling in her body. Her fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, grounding herself in the safety of your presence.

After a moment, she pulls back slightly, enough to look up at you with those wide, purple eyes. “You really mean it, don’t you?” she asks, her voice a mixture of wonder and vulnerability. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

You gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I mean it. I’m not going anywhere, Jinx. We’ll do this together. We’ve always figured things out, even when it’s been tough.”

She nods, her lips quivering into a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "I don’t want to fail her. I don’t want to mess this up." Her voice drops lower, almost a whisper. "I just… I don’t know how to be a mom."

You lean in, brushing your forehead against hers, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you both. "And you don’t have to know how to be one right now," you reassure her. "But you’ve got a lot of love to give. You’ve got that. And that’s a hell of a start."

She lets out a shaky breath, nodding slowly. "I guess we’ll learn as we go, huh?" There’s a trace of her old mischief in her voice, a glimmer of that familiar spark.

"Yeah," you say, your hand gently cupping her face again, “we’ll learn. And we’ll do it together. One step at a time.”

Jinx leans into your touch, her eyes closing briefly. “I never thought this could be my life... but maybe... maybe it could be.” She looks up at you, a new kind of determination in her eyes. "I want to make sure she has a chance to be better than I was. We can give her that.”

You nod, the weight of the decision no longer feeling quite so heavy. "We will."

And for the first time, there’s a real sense of hope, something unfamiliar yet comforting, settling between you both. You kiss her forehead softly, reassuring her once more that you’re in this together—no matter what comes next.

You both stand in the silence, the hum of the hideout settling around you. The girl, Isha, is still standing a few feet away, her eyes fixed on you both, her small frame tense but not entirely withdrawn. She’s looking at Jinx one moment, then at you, almost like she’s waiting to see how you’ll react, unsure of how this new chapter will begin.

You take a cautious step toward her, the floor creaking lightly beneath your feet. Isha doesn’t move, her posture defensive, but there’s a hint of curiosity in the way her blue hair flutters slightly with every slight movement you make.

You crouch in front of her, your knees sinking just enough to meet her gaze without overwhelming her. “Hey there,” you say softly, trying to keep the tone light. “I’m not going to bite, promise.”

Isha’s eyes flicker to your face, her lips parting slightly as if weighing whether to trust you. It’s quiet for a moment, and then, after a long stretch of silence, she hesitantly reaches out, her small fingers brushing against yours.

You give her a small, encouraging smile and gently take her hand, your grip light, offering her the space she needs to pull away if she wants to. You feel the chill of her hand against your skin, the coldness of someone who’s been through too much too soon.

“You’re safe here,” you say, voice low and reassuring. “You don’t have to be scared.”

Behind you, Jinx shifts, her usual chaotic energy subdued for once, her gaze trained on the interaction. There’s a look in her eyes—part gratitude, part uncertainty—that makes you pause for a moment. She’s watching, almost as if she’s holding her breath, waiting for something.

She takes a small step closer, her voice quieter than usual. “Thanks,” she says, the words tumbling out before she can stop them, more to herself than to you. “For not running off.”

You glance over your shoulder at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes. “I told you I’m not going anywhere, Jinx.” Your voice is firm, steady, grounding. “We’ll figure this out. All three of us.”

Isha’s small hand tightens in yours, a soft, tentative pressure that feels like the first sign of trust she’s given. You smile, a little more genuine this time, and shift to stand beside her, giving Jinx a glance that holds a promise.

Jinx looks back at you, her expression softening, and for the first time, you see something almost like hope flicker in her eyes. She steps up beside you, her presence a quiet reassurance to Isha.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jinx echoes, her voice quieter now. She glances at Isha, her fingers nervously twitching but keeping steady. “We’ll make sure she has a chance.”

Isha, though still cautious, seems to soften just a little in response. Her gaze shifts from you to Jinx and back again, like she’s beginning to believe that maybe—just maybe—she’s found something worth trusting.

Jinx’s eyes flicker toward the workbench, her gaze catching the sleek pistol you’d been carefully crafting. The change in her demeanor is almost immediate, the air around her crackling with a familiar energy. Her lips curl into a mischievous grin, the kind that only she could pull off. The uncertainty from moments ago seems to evaporate, replaced by a spark of excitement.

“Well, well…” she mutters, stepping over to the workbench and running her fingers along the edges of the half-assembled weapon. “Looks like someone’s been busy.”

You watch her, her movements quick and sure as she inspects the weapon. “I was making it for you,” you say, your voice holding a touch of amusement. “Had to give it some personal touches.”

Her grin widens, and she picks up the gun with a careful but almost possessive gesture, weighing it in her hands. “I know, I know… You always make the best toys.” Her voice drops a little lower, a mischievous twinkle in her purple eyes. “But I could use something like this, especially if I’m gonna be a good role model.”

You raise an eyebrow, your hands resting on your hips. “Role model? Are you sure you know what that means?”

Jinx gives a playful shrug, flipping the gun in her hands and inspecting it. “Hey, maybe I don’t know everything about being a ‘good’ role model… but I’m pretty damn good at keeping people entertained.” She gives you a sly wink, her usual wild energy creeping back into her voice.

For a brief moment, the weight of the situation seems to lift as Jinx takes a shot at her old self. The chaos, the thrill—it’s all there, in her eyes, in her grin. But beneath it, there’s something different. A protective edge. She’s not just planning her next move—she’s trying to figure out how to be something else, something more.

You sigh, crossing your arms, and take in the sight of her, the wild spark still there but now tempered with something else. “Just don’t get too carried away, alright?”

Her eyes narrow in playful challenge. “Who, me? Never.”

You shake your head, but the corners of your mouth lift slightly, the tension between you easing as you watch Jinx’s usual self return, in all her unpredictable, fiery glory.

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” you mutter, though it’s more affectionate than anything.

Jinx’s grin softens a bit as she looks over at you, the weapon still in hand, but her attention fully on you now. “Hey, thanks for sticking with me,” she says quietly, her voice softer than before, but the familiar edge is still there. “I know this... this is a lot. But I’ll do everything I can to make it work.”

You nod, feeling the weight of the moment, of the decision ahead. “I know you will, Jinx. Just don’t let this turn into another one of your schemes, alright?”

Jinx’s eyes sparkle as she steps closer, her lips curling into another grin. “No promises,” she teases, then lowers her voice to something more sincere. “But I’ll try.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

Very first - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Request: First time with Lewis. I had 5 requests for that and I hope I did it justice (sorry for how long it took for a couple of those requests)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, all sorts.

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +5K

a/n: Haven't written in first person in so long, but all the drafts felt better like this. Also, it's huge, ops. Hope you guys like it.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

It was easy with him, too easy maybe, but that's what made it so damn nice.

“So,” I started, turning to him with a half-smile. “You want to come up?”

We’d spent the morning driving through the countryside, talking about everything and nothing—his races, my job, the ridiculousness of the price of avocados.

His eyes met mine, and I could see the question there, like he was trying to read me. “You sure?”

It was cute that he was being cautious, but come on, we both knew why I was asking. I nodded, keeping my voice light. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the countryside air or just the fact that we had spent the day away from the madness of London, but today felt different.

Calmer, somehow.

I led him up the stairs to my apartment, trying not to think too much about how it had been a while since I’d let anyone in here.

Literally and figuratively.

“Welcome to my humble abode” I said, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

He hesitated in the doorway, taking it all in.

My place was small, but it was mine—books, plants, a blanket that I was probably too attached to. It wasn’t flashy like the places he was used to, but I liked that about it.

“Nice place,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“It does the job” I replied with a shrug, kicking off my shoes. “Make yourself at home.”

He followed suit, slipping off his sneakers and setting them neatly by the door. “It suits you. Feels… grounded.”

I let out a soft laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

He leaned against the counter as we headed into the kitchen to grab some water.

But when handed him the glass, and our fingers brushed, it was fireworks all over again. God, how was I still reacting like a teenager with a crush?

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “So, today was fun.”

“It was,” I agreed, taking a drink to give myself something to do with my hands. “It’s nice to get out of the city for a bit. The countryside’s got this whole other vibe.”

“Yup” he said, setting his glass down. “Nice to just… let it go.”

“Even from the racing?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Especially from the racing,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

There was a beat of silence, and I could feel the shift in the air between us, that tension that had been simmering since our last date starting to bubble up again.

The last time… well, things had gotten pretty heated until his phone rang, snapping us both out of it.

It was a close call, but I’d pulled back, sticking to my rule. No rushing into things. I’d done that before, and it never ended well.

But this time, he was making it very hard for me to stick by that rule.

I wanted him, and from the way he was looking at me, I’d take a pretty good guess he wanted me too.

I took a step closer, letting my hand find his. That simple touch was all it took for the tension to skyrocket, and before I knew it, we were closing the distance between us, lips crashing together in a kiss that was anything but tentative.

His hands were on my waist, pulling me closer as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

God, the man could kiss.

It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, who you were, and why you ever thought not doing this was a good idea. His lips were soft, but the way he kissed me was anything but.

There was urgency there, a hunger that only fueled into my own, and I could feel it in every brush of his lips, every tug of his fingers on my shirt.

I pressed myself against him, deepening the kiss as I let my hands roam up his back, memorizing the feel of him.

The muscles there were as solid as they looked, and I couldn’t help but think that this man was literally built for this kind of thing.

I mean, I had the image of what he looked like shirtless—hell, half the world did—but feeling it under my fingers was a whole different story.

He let out a low groan against my lips, and I was losing myself in the kiss, in him, and for a second, I almost didn’t care about anything else. Almost.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath. “Y/n…”

The way he said my name, low and rough, made me want to pull him back in and never let go.

But there was something in his voice that made me pause.

“Yeah?” I whispered, my hands still resting on his shoulders, my eyes closed shut.

“I just… I don’t want to rush you” he said, his voice soft but serious. “I know last time… I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing again.

Damn, he was really being careful, wasn’t he? But I appreciated it. More than I’d probably let on.

“Lewis” I started, taking a breath. “I want this. I want you. And I’m not saying that lightly.”

He studied me for a moment, like he was searching for any sign of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Not this time.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

I nodded, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw tentatively. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all it took.

He kissed me again, and this time, there was no holding back.

And damn, if it wasn’t about time.

We barely made it through the hallway before his lips found mine again, pressing me against the wall with just the right amount of pressure.

God, he was good at this. I could feel the heat between us, the urgency in his touch making it clear where this was heading.

“Bedroom?” I mumbled against his lips, not really wanting to break the kiss but knowing we couldn’t just do this against the wall like teenagers.

Although, thinking it back the idea didn’t sound so bad.

As soon as we stepped inside his eyes landed on the teddy bear sitting in the middle of my bed. Of course.

“What’s this?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he pointed to the bear.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to let him see how much I loved that he was trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s Mr. Bear, and he’s not going anywhere, so you’ll just have to deal.”

“Mr. Bear?” He picked it up, inspecting it like it was some kind of artifact. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure he approves.”

“He’s a tough cookie” I quipped, crossing my arms and giving him a look. “But you might want to focus on impressing me instead.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” he murmured, setting the bear down gently on the bedside table before turning back to me, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something much more intense.

He stepped closer, his hands finding the hem of my shirt. “Can I…?”

I sighed, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Lewis, if you ask me for permission one more time…”

He grinned, but there was something softer behind it. “Just making sure, love”

“I know,” I cut him off, my voice softer too. “But trust me, I want this. I want you.”

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, slipping his hands under my shirt and lifting it over my head.

His fingers grazed my skin, causing goosebumps down my skin as he took his time, clearly trying to be as gentle as possible, maybe even allowing for the time for me to back off.

It was sweet, really, but I was starting to get impatient.

“Lewis,” I said, a warning in my voice.

He chuckled, his hands moving to the waistband of my jeans. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop asking.”

“Good” I muttered, stepping out of my jeans as he slid them down my legs.

When I was finally standing in just my lingerie, his eyes roamed over me, and I could see the want—was it also awe? —in his eyes.

“I don’t think it’s fair,” I said, my voice teasing as I reached for the hem of his shirt.

“What’s not fair?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine with a tense stare.

“That you’re fully dressed” I replied, tugging at his shirt. “Especially when half the world uses your abs as gym inspiration.”

He laughed then; a deep, genuine sound that made my heart skip a beat. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

He raised his arms, letting me pull the shirt over his head. And yeah, the man was every bit as ripped as I had imagined.

I already knew what was under there, but damn, it was something else to see it up close like this.

And the tattoos. Those damn tattoos.

I ran my hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he watched me with that same intense gaze, like he was studying every move I made.

It was intoxicating, the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered at that second.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.

“Much” I whispered, my fingers trailing down to his abs, feeling them tense under my touch.

His breath hitched slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile.

It was nice to know that I wasn’t the only one feeling a little overwhelmed by this. He might be Lewis Hamilton, but right now, he was just a guy standing in front of me, and I was the one making him nervous.

He softly guided my chin up and smiled, that stupidly soft and loving smile, before leaning into my lips, my hands exploring his back, his shoulders, anywhere I could reach.

He took his time though, his hands sliding up my sides to my back, and only then pausing at the clasp of my bra.

With his lips still hovering over mine he breathed into me. “Can I…?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Yes, Lewis. You can.”

And with that – and with his lips back on mine – he undid the clasp, letting the bra fall away as his hands moved over my now bare skin

Finally. And damn, if I wasn’t loving every second of it.

His lips started to trail from my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts, taking detours to worship every inch of skin he found on the way.

By the time his mouth reached my belly, I was practically trembling with anticipation.

When his fingers brushed the lace of my underwear, I couldn’t help the hiss that escaped my lips.

He paused, looking up at me with those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. Without a word, he moved back up to capture my mouth with his, as if soothing the impatience brewing inside me.

And I was impatient. The slow, deliberate pace was driving me insane, and he knew it.

I kissed him back hard, my hands roaming down his sides until they found the waistband of his boxers.

I was more than ready to speed things up, and as I slipped my hand under the fabric, I was pleasantly surprised to find him already half-hard.

“Guess the rumors weren’t exaggerating,” I murmured against his lips, my fingers brushing over his length.

He responded with a low growl, one hand angling my head as he kissed me again, harder this time, effectively shutting me up.

But he never stopped me from continuing my exploration. I traced the outline of his dick through the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the way he twitched under my touch.

Knowing I could get this kind of reaction from him was a high I probably wouldn’t get over for a minute.

When he finally broke the kiss, I met his gaze, silently asking for permission to go further. “It’s all yours, babe.” He chuckled, a sound that made me want to attack him and hide all at once.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down.

The moment his dick sprang free, I couldn’t help the way my breath caught in my throat.

He wasn’t impossibly long, but he was definitely above average, and the girth—God, the girth—was enough to make my pulse quicken.

He was watching me, of course, catching every flicker of reaction on my face.

When he noticed my wide-eyed surprise, he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. His smile was warm, reassuring even “We’ll take it slow.”

I nodded, grateful for his patience even as it frustrated me. I returned his smile, my fingers wrapping around his length. His breath hitched the moment I touched him, and I couldn’t help but bat my eyes at him playfully.

“Gosh, you’re trouble” he muttered, his voice rough with desire.

I grinned, taking my time as I began to pump him, feeling the weight and heat of him in my hand.

When I reached the tip, I leaned down to press a kiss there, delighting in the way he shivered at the contact.

“Sensitive here, huh?” I teased, looking up at him.

Whatever retort he had in mind was lost when he dragged me back up to his lips, his hands firm on my hips as he effortlessly maneuvered me onto the bed, pressing my back against the headboard.

His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. “I’m good, love. But we need to make sure you’re ready” he murmured, his statement a promise to my ears.

Before I could respond, his mouth was on me again, trailing kisses down my body with single-minded focus.

When he reached my inner thighs, he took his time kissing through the fabric of my lace underwear, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my lips.

“Don’t tease,” I breathed, hating how desperate I sounded.

He giggled—that soft, infectious sound that I’d grown to love. “Just making sure” he whispered, his fingers hooking around the strings on my hips, slowly pulling the lace down and off.

As he finally took in the sight of my exposed cunt, his expression shifted into something almost reverent, like he was savoring the moment. He leaned down, leaving featherlight kisses on my outer lips, the gentle touch driving me wild.

“Lewis” I groaned, the frustration in my voice clear. “Please.”

He smiled against my skin, his breath hot against my thigh. “Patience, love. I’m just getting started.”

The first tentative lick sent a shockwave through my body, and my hands immediately grabbed at the sheets, fingers curling tight.

Every nerve on me was on fire, heightened by the slow, deliberate pace he was setting.

And just when I thought I might float away, he hooked an arm around my hips, anchoring me in place. His other hand found mine, fingers intertwining, as if he needed to connect with me anymore.

His eyes never left mine, and even if I wanted, I couldn’t really stop watching as his tongue lapped up my clit. A gasp escaping my lips as the pleasure spiked through me.

“Fuck,” I muttered, barely coherent.

He continued, his tongue moving with just the right pace, not rushing, just giving me enough to keep me teetering on the edge.

When he felt I was wet enough, he let go of my hand, moving it down to tease at my entrance with a single digit.

“I’ll need words from here, love” he murmured, his voice muffled. “Tell me what you like.”

“Don’t stop,” I managed to say, my voice shaky, almost pleading. “Just—don’t stop.”

With a grin, he slid a single finger inside me, his own hiss vibrating through the room as he felt my walls.

“You’re so tight,” he breathed, a note of awe in his voice. “This is gonna be heaven.”

He took his time, exploring with just that one finger, feeling around until he found the spot that had me squirming under him. When he hit it, I couldn’t help the moan that tore from my throat, my hips bucking involuntarily.

“Found it” he said with a satisfied smile, his eyes locking onto mine.

Then he added a second finger, the light stretch already making me gasp.

He started a scissoring motion, opening me up, getting me ready. All the while, his tongue didn’t let up, lapping at my clit in perfect rhythm, just enough to keep me on edge without pushing me over.

The wet sounds filled the room, mingling with my ragged breathing and his low murmurs of praise.

He was studying me, like he was learning exactly how to make me fall apart under him.

After what felt like an eternity of this sweet torment, he finally pulled back, sitting on his heels.

I watched as he switched to his middle and ring fingers, angling them just right before sliding back into me.

The feeling was delicious, and when he curled his fingers and found that spot again, I cried out, my hips lifting off the bed.

“Easy” he murmured, his free arm holding me in place as he started a relentless up-and-down motion.

His thumb brushed over my clit, making my breath caught in my throat and my head spin.

I was completely at his mercy, the pleasure building and building until I could hardly breathe.

The wet noises from where his fingers worked inside me were obscene, mingling with the desperate little sounds I couldn’t hold back.

He kept on the soft praises, but they were swallowed by my moans as I got closer and closer to the edge.

And then it hit.

My vision went white, and all I could do was hold onto his arm on his hips, feeling the waves of pleasure crash over me again and again. My whole body tensing before it felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.

He didn’t stop until he was sure I’d ridden out every last bit of it, his fingers slowing their movements but never letting up until I was trembling beneath him.

Only then did he pull his fingers out.

When I finally came back to myself, I found him watching me with a look that was equal parts smug and adoring.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as if sealing the moment. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice gentle now.

I could only nod, too blissed out to form a coherent thought, let alone words.

And then he had the nerve to ask if I had one more in me, and again all I could do was nod.

But apparently, that wasn’t good enough for him. “I need words,” he insisted, and barely managed to get out “Fucking hell, you’re not leaving me without the rest.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn’t deny how endearing it was.

How many green flags could one guy have? Annoyingly checking every damn box.

When he went to his wallet, I knew what was coming next.

He handed me the condom packet, giving me that same patient, earnest look, like he was asking if I could handle one more thing.

I reached for him, giving him a few more pumps just to feel him twitch in my hand. Sliding the condom on, I could feel the heat building again, a rush of anticipation making my heart race.

He adjusted our position like he was handling something precious—placing a pillow just under my back, so deliberate and thoughtful.

But when he rested his dick on my inner thigh, all those coherent thoughts I had left my brain like it was suddenly a foreign language, and I remembered the girth.

Holy shit. How was I supposed to handle that?

The weight of him, the sheer size, and the fact that I was supposed to take it in?

Was this man sculpted by the gods or what?

And why did I have to get stuck on how considerate he was instead of focusing on the absolute insanity about to happen?

Before I could spiral any further, he came up to me, his lips brushing mine, dragging me back into the present. “We’ll take all the time you need, okay?” his voice like honey, smooth and sweet.

And there I was, rolling my eyes again, even as the warmth spread through me.

I wanted to snap back, something sassy on the tip of my tongue, but then his tip entered me, and all I could do was hiss at the sensation.

He kissed me through the first thrust, his dick practically ripping through my walls, and my hands automatically went to his back, nails digging into his skin, holding on for dear life.

I tried to breathe, tried to adjust to the stretch, but when he finally stopped, I realized he wasn’t even fully in yet.

My eyes shot down, and sure enough, he was still focused, his breathing controlled, and all I heard was a low murmur, “Geez, you really are tight.”

I felt his arms on either side of me, solid and reassuring, and I squeezed them gently. His eyes instantly found mine, filled with concern, and I had to smile softly. “Move, Lewis. Just please, move.”

And then he did, thrusting into me with an agonizing slowness, deeper with each motion, until finally, I felt his balls press against my ass, and he sighed like he’d found what he was looking for.

My mind, however, was a different story.

Holy shit, how was I still breathing? I was split open in the best way possible, and all I could think was how the hell was this man real.

I was sure each thrust was going to create its own memory, and I was teetering between wanting to scream at the top of my lungs and begging him to go even harder.

But there was something about how he moved—deliberate, careful, like he was savoring every second, every reaction I gave him.

The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world, was enough to push me over the edge again. And I could tell he was holding back, trying to keep control, trying to make sure I was okay, even as his own need was practically vibrating through his body.

God, I’m so screwed, and not just in the physical sense.

I was falling, fast and hard, and there was no stopping it now.

Not when he felt this good, not when he was this good to me.

Every thrust made me crave more, made me cling to him tighter, made me want to lose myself in him completely.

Lewis’s focus was entirely on me, and it was like he was memorizing every gasp, every twitch, every reaction.

It was overwhelming, in the best possible way, but still I needed more.

I wanted to be the one in control, to feel him from a different angle, to see what this man—this ridiculous, considerate, and sexy man—would do when I took the reins.

Leaning into his ear, I whispered, “I want to ride you.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before I felt him tense beneath me, half-worried, half-hopeful.

It was adorable, really, how he tried to mask his excitement with concern.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, and there was that hint of amusement in his voice, but I could also hear the edge of desperation.

Did he really want this as much as I did, maybe even more?

“We’ll take it slow, right?” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.

I sat up, pulling away just enough to guide him to sit on the bed, and as I moved into his lap, I could feel his heart on his chest.

Slowly, I lowered myself onto his dick, feeling every inch stretch me again, filling me completely.

My lips parted in an involuntary gasp, my eyes squeezing shut as I adjusted to the sensation.

His hands found my waist, gripping tightly as if grounding himself, and when I finally opened my eyes, he was staring at me with that same soft smile that always managed to break through my sarcasm.

I couldn’t help but smile back, pulling him into a kiss, the kind that had me wrapping me around him.

I started moving, rocking back and forth, feeling the friction build and spiral.

The kiss broke when he moaned against my lips, a sound that only spurred me on, making my moves harder, seeking more.

His hands guided me, helping me rise and fall on him, and every time his tip brushed against my cervix, I saw starts. It was so intense it almost bordered on pain.

I let out a cry, my body trembling at the sensation, and he immediately stilled, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and it was almost ridiculous how serious he was, but also incredibly sweet.

I looked down at him, half breathless, half in awe of how he managed to be so considerate, even in the heat of the moment. “Going to be even better when you drag that other orgasm out of me, like you promised.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He started to thrust up and I matched him, riding him faster, until I could feel that familiar tension coil tightly in my belly.

I wasn’t going to last much longer, and by the way he was groaning beneath me, neither was he.

A few more thrusts, and I stilled, holding him down by his abdomen, feeling the shift in him as he realized what was happening.

He searched my face, and then his expression shifted as he felt my walls clenching around him, my legs shaking as I came undone.

I couldn’t keep myself upright, collapsing into his chest as wave after wave washed over me.

Lewis took that moment to start thrusting again, riding out my orgasm, and I was vaguely aware of the way he was holding me, like he didn’t want to let go.

I could feel his rhythm faltering, and it wasn’t long before he let out a deep grunt, his fingers digging into my waist as he held me in place and his moans were all I heard.

We were both breathing hard, tangled together, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

It was just us, in this moment, and I couldn’t help the ridiculous surge of affection for him.

Who knew I’d end up here, wrapped up in the arms of a guy like Lewis? But here I was, completely wrecked and somehow, already craving more.

As I eased off his lap, I heard a low moan escape his lips, and I giggled as I looked down at him, sprawled out on the bed with a stupid grin plastered across his face.

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" I teased, reaching down to carefully remove the condom, trying to catch the mess inside. He didn't even respond, just lay there looking like the cat who got the cream.

I slipped off to the bathroom, tossing the condom in the toilet before taking a moment to pee—because there was no way I was dealing with a UTI when I had Lewis to myself like that.

And just that thought was ridiculous on its own.

When I came back into the bedroom, Lewis immediately pulled me into his arms, almost like he was afraid I’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

He was sweet in the aftercare, his voice soft as he asked, “How was it? How do you feel?”

I could hear the concern laced in his tone, but that grin was still there, tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was impossible not to smile back, even as I decided to mess with him a little. My fingers wandered lower, tracing the lines of his lower waist, and I looked up at him with a teasing glint in my eyes.

“You know” I started, trying to keep a straight face, “I always thought you were a shower… I’m glad to see you’re also a grower.”

Lewis giggled, his chest vibrating under my chin as he shook his head in mock disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I mean, it’s only fair to acknowledge all of your… talents.”

He shook his head again, but I could see the satisfaction in his eyes. “And here I thought I had you speechless.”

“You did” I assured him, my fingers dancing across his skin again. “But I can’t stay quiet for long.”

He chuckled, pulling me closer, his hand running up and down my back in soothing strokes. “I’m glad. It’s part of your charm.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through me at his words. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

His grin softened into something more tender as he looked down at me. “You make it easy to be sweet.”

I pretended to look annoyed, but the smile on my face gave me away. “Okay, that was disgustingly cute. But fine, I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he teased, his hand coming up to gently brush my cheek “What if I want to be disgustingly cute more often?”

I hummed thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “I guess I could get used to it… as long as you keep up the other stuff too.”

He giggled again, that carefree sound that I was quickly falling for. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m planning on sticking for a bit.”

I smirked, resting my hand on his chest. “I think I can manage that.”

______________________________________________________________

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Discovery - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's feeling the lowest she has in a long time. Things are at the tipping point and she needs to choose to either confront things head on or lose you forever.

Warnings: G!P content. Heavy angst. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of rejection and self-loathing; self-sabotaging behaviours. Language.

A/N: Chapters one, two and three.

“I can’t believe you. I’ve waited all day to hear from you - and nothing. After everything that happened, you just leave in the middle of the night and just dead silence. Are you kidding me, Jess?”

“First you give me the cold shoulder all evening without any explanation as to why. Started by a conversation you began, might I add. I tell you I love you. We kiss and you literally throw me off of you.”

“Yes, I was upset and I didn’t want to talk. But you just ghost me all day? I know you withdraw when you’re upset or overwhelmed, but you don’t even have the decency to check in with me or give me some kind of an explanation?”

Jessie sunk into her seat on the couch as she read your messages again. She’d been staring at them on and off for the past hour and felt paralyzed, unable to act.

She’d managed to make it to training this morning, but she was certainly worse for wear. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles under them from a mix of sleep deprivation and the time she’d spent crying. Her teammates immediately clocked her upset and some fawned over her trying to suss things out and help, but she was largely unresponsive.

She just wanted to do her drills to keep her mind off of you and the absolute disaster she’d created.

Coach recommended she talk to the sports therapist, and while she nodded her agreement, she had no intention of rushing. She already knew what they’d say and she wasn’t interested right now. If she was willing to do those things, guess what, she wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament in the first place.

So here she sat at home this evening, in self-imposed solitude and catatonic. The apartment was dead quiet as she flipped between scrolling distractedly through her phone and re-reading messages with you and looking at pictures of the two of you.

She needed to respond. But it seemed no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what to say. Nothing was remotely adequate. She let out a shuddering breath as she continued to remain inert.

Her heart raced as another message came in from you.

“I’d like to think we’d built enough of a connection and you have enough respect for me to at least acknowledge me and respond. I’ve been sitting here making up excuses in my head for you all day, but reality is, you just choose not to talk to me.”

She let her head fall heavily back against the wall with a dull thud. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she felt herself start to tear up yet again.

The end felt inevitable, but underneath all of her fear and anxiety it isn’t what she wanted. It would be easier perhaps. Just close herself off again. Be single again for god knows how long. She was exceptional at pushing people away and pretending it didn’t matter.

Then, maybe, when it felt safe again and the hardship she was currently experiencing was just a distant memory, she would hope to meet someone as incredible as you again. But for what? So she could compare them to you? Miss you? To fuck it all up again?

She released a slow, steady breath and brought her phone back up to reply.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I was at training earlier and I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”

“She lives. Well, thank you for replying... So. Do you know what you want to say now?”

She sighed in frustration.

“No.”

She shouldn’t be so curt.

“I wish I did.”

“Well. That’s very helpful.”

“I have some things I want to say. But if you’re not interested in hearing them or trying to resolve anything, I suppose there’s no point.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“I want to know.”

“Do you actually? Because, frankly, even if I told you how I feel last night, I’m not that interested in humiliating myself further or wasting my time if we’re not on the same page.”

Jessie’s chest constricted painfully as she read your message. She never used to consider herself a selfish person, but seeing the toll she’d taken on you, she couldn’t deny it. She wiped angrily at a stray tear at the corner of her eye.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to feel that way and I’m sorry I’ve caused it. I do want to hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t want to do this through text. It’s going to fucking suck but I want to talk in person.”

Jessie sat forward to the edge of the couch and leaned her forearms heavily against her thighs as she studied your message.

She was scared. She didn’t want to do that. Still, she owed you that, the truth, and so much more. And even if you left hating her, she had to make sure you knew it really was all her - you’d been perfect and all of this rot branched from her.

And if it really was the end, she couldn’t resist seeing you one more time.

“Okay. Where and when?”

—————

Jessie’s hands were cold and clammy as she walked down the hall to your apartment. She breathed heavily before catching herself and steadying them. She compulsively opened and closed her fists as she waited for you to answer.

When you opened the door, your expression was a far cry from the one she was used to seeing greet her. Instead of seeing a bright or warm smile, you looked tired and weary.

Guilt radiated through Jessie; she caused this single-handedly. She was supposed to make you happy, bring you comfort, make you feel safe and loved. Instead, she left you looking like a shell of yourself. Slowly at first, small nicks here and there, before a catastrophic and now lingering blow.

“Come in,” you said with only the slightest inflection in your voice. You stepped aside but didn’t make eye contact as Jessie entered.

“I, um, got you this,” Jessie said after she set her shoes aside and took off her backpack. She pulled a vinyl record out of it and handed it to you. She met your discerning gaze briefly before dropping it to the record in her hand. “I know you’ve been looking for it, so…”

You tentatively took it from her, a frown on your face as you examined it.

“Thanks,” you said flatly.

She knew it wouldn’t fix things or make things up to you - not by a long shot - but she had the faintest hope you would be more receptive.

When she forced herself to look up at you again, she saw you still studying the record. Eventually, your frown deepened and you looked at her almost accusingly.

“I don’t get you,” you said. “You barely talk to me these past couple of days and you act all cagey but then you do this? It doesn’t make sense.”

Your face faltered briefly before you grew stoic once more. “Some days you seem to really like me. Really care for me and understand me and we connect so well. And then others it feels like you can hardly stand to look at me.” A flash of emotion appeared on your face and disappeared just as fast. Your voice strained vaguely before you steadied it. “Never mind touch me.”

Jessie swallowed and dropped her gaze in shame. You went on, your voice cracking.

“I’ve tried to be really patient. But after the other night…I’ve done a lot of thinking and I can’t help but admit how hard it’s been.”

You sighed heavily and set the record down on a nearby table before returning and folding your arms tightly against yourself and leaning back against the wall. Your brow was heavy with a frown.

“And I know you've been trying." Your voice grew taut. "Prior anyway. And that's probably what makes it the worst. It's been hard for you, too - to be with me." Your face fell and your lip trembled briefly as you looked away.

Jessie's heart ached as she watched you battle with your emotions. All of the fear and worry she'd let dominate her fell away, replaced with an overwhelming need to hold you and make you feel better.

"It hasn't been," Jessie beseeched, taking a step forward but stopping when your gaze flicked back to her, warning.

"Do you think I’m stupid?" You said sharply. "I know you can’t stand to touch me. At first, I kept trying to give myself, and you, the benefit of the doubt - but the other night really proved that not only do you most definitely not find me attractive,” you laughed acerbically, “I think I might actually even repulse you.” You stared at her a moment, letting your words hang in the air and feigning amusement before choking back a sob. You visibly clenched your jaw before you forced another empty laugh. “That’s a fun one. My therapist’s about to get a ton of business from me.”

You took a shuddering breath and your voice cracked as you spoke. "I already know how this ends.”

“That’s not at all what’s happening or how I feel,” Jessie protested. She pressed the heels of her palms firmly into her eyes and grit her teeth. Her voice strained with burgeoning emotion. “Jesus Christ. That’s not it at all."

Your face screwed up and you gave a sad shake of your head as you stared her down.

“Stop. Just stop with the vague excuses. Just be honest with me. I don’t need you to confirm it, but don’t lie and tell me otherwise. I can tell,” voice breaking at the end. “Every time you pull away. How uncomfortable you can be when we’re even remotely physical. You can’t stand to kiss me for any length of time. I can feel you just waiting to pull away, like you’re fucking counting down the seconds until it’s over.” You started sobbing. “It’s horrible. Knowing you don’t want me like I want you.”

Jessie took a step toward you and you recoiled. She couldn’t help but think - maybe much like how she had with you times before.

“And don’t give me this whole ‘you’re shy’ or ‘you’re awkward’ thing again. I deserve more than your excuses.” Your voice grew softer. “And it’s not your fault you feel the way you do. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. Sometimes there can be an emotional connection and the physical just isn’t there. I don’t blame you. But I do blame you for dragging this out." You sniffled, wiping agitatedly at a tear that rolled down your cheek before giving her a defiant stare. "So just do what you should’ve done from the beginning.”

“It’s not you,” Jessie started and immediately saw the way you tensed up, ready to argue. She spoke quickly and urgently, her voice pleading for mercy and understanding. “It’s not you. I promise. It’s me - and I know how that sounds. But you were never the problem. I need you to know that.”

You looked ready to explode and Jessie knew it was now or never.

"It's me. I-it's my body. And I've been terrified that you won't accept me," she stammered through, hands to her chest as her gaze remained rooted to the floor. Her lips parted and her shoulders rose and fell as her breathing began to quicken. She swallowed and found the courage to look up at you to see a scrutinizing, but perplexed expression on your face.

"I'm not like you," Jessie said softly, "or most girls. Physically." She held your gaze for a second, to let you begin to process, but to give her time to think as well. She could see you were confused, but you waited quietly for her to go on. "I-I," she started, before stopping to take a steadying breath, her shoulders relaxing as she did so. "I've always been different."

She was slow to proceed and you spoke tentatively, all accusations and harshness now gone.

"What do you mean? How so?"

Jessie swallowed, eyes transfixed on the floor once more. She scratched at the back of her neck so harshly that it hurt.

"The reason I can't be physical with you is because what you would see, and feel," she looked up at you as she exhaled, "isn't what you would expect." She studied you as you processed her words. "That's why I asked you if you'd slept with guys," she finished timidly, embarrassment and shame creeping in despite her efforts.

Your mouth fell open to speak, but nothing came out. You frowned and visibly struggled with what to say next. Jessie's mouth was dry, but she had to take the next step.

"Even though I'm a girl, I have...what a guy has," she said quietly.

Your mouth opened wider to speak, but still nothing came out. You held up a poised finger, cuing her to wait. Eventually you found your words. Jessie held your gaze despite how difficult it was.

"Are you telling me that you have...," you trailed off, your gaze settling on her crotch momentarily before looking up at her, a tinge of pink already on your cheeks, "...a cock?"

Jessie released a slow, shuddering breath through her nose as she continued to hold your gaze. She nodded.

"Yes."

She saw your eyebrows raise as you looked away and her words and emotions just came out in a torrent.

"So if you think I've been struggling, you're right, but that's why," she said bitterly, tears in her eyes already. "It really had nothing to do with you. You've been so perfect. And it's been killing me to lie to you. And to hurt you. But I've been so scared - and I just," she took a shaky breath, "I know I'm not what you signed up for. You didn't deserve any of this, but I was being selfish. I wanted you. And I didn't want to risk losing you, so I just kept lying and the longer I waited, the more impossible it felt to tell you." Jessie's voice broke and she wiped her nose before pulling her arms in tightly against herself.

"And in the end I fucked it all up. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I have. Hearing how I...," she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at you before clenching her jaw tightly. "Hurting you is probably the worst thing I've ever done." Her voice grew high as she fought through her emotions. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness. I would gladly take it, but I know I don't deserve it. You deserve far better than someone who would hurt someone they love the way I've hurt you."

Your brow furrowed as she finished and Jessie swallowed once more, clearing her throat before speaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it back the other night. I really wanted to." She gave you a desperate look. "I know it must seem like I have zero integrity, but, I couldn't tell you I love you without telling you," she paused, gaze falling briefly, "all of this." She looked back at you, taking in a slow breath. "I really do love you. And I want so much more for us, but I realize now that even if you were okay...with me...well, with the way I've gone about everything, I've probably ruined any chance for us."

Her face fell as more tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I just need you to know that you shouldn't feel badly about yourself, because you were never the problem. It was always me."

"This is a lot for me to process," you said slowly, thumb grazing idly along your arm. You glanced over at the couch for a moment before glancing back at her. "Um, why don't we sit down."

Jessie sniffled, overcome with surprise that you'd invite her in further. It took her a moment to comprehend it, but soon nodded eagerly. She followed you wordlessly to the couch, remaining standing as you took a seat. You looked at her expectantly before gesturing to the spot next to you.

She was mindful of the space between you. She didn't want to sit too close and inadvertently imply that things were suddenly fine. She sat stiffly, back straight, hands on the tops of her thighs as she deferred to you on how to proceed. She glanced at you in trepidation, waiting, but when you didn't say anything for several moments she spoke again.

"I completely understand that this is a lot to process," she validated with a fleeting glance. "While I've been thinking about nothing but this for months, this is all new to you."

"Yeah," you said quietly, still very much in your thoughts.

"And I want you to know that you don't owe me anything," she said. "I completely understand if this is too much for you or not what you want. No hard feelings." She almost laughed at the last statement as she sat here, congested and teary-eyed. There would be a lot of feelings, but not hard feelings. She rubbed her forehead. "And I understand if there are hard feelings towards me. I'm sorry I was such a coward. I just-" she shook her head quickly, dismissing the thought. "Never mind."

She heard you exhale gently and she peeked over at you. You were initially still, but soon shifted, surprising Jessie as you turned subtly towards her.

"Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of questions. And I still have a lot of confusing feelings and hurt. But - I meant it when I said I love you. So it's hard to see you hurting like this." You scratched at your temple before looking up at her. "Did I do something to make it harder for you to tell me?"

Jessie turned to you fully, a stern look on her face. "No," she said adamantly. "You were," she shrugged listlessly, "you really were - are - amazing. I guess I just let old fears and baggage control me."

"What do you mean?" You asked tentatively before holding up your hands and speaking quickly. "And if I ask something that's too much - just say so. I don't want to make you more uncomfortable."

Jessie frowned deeper. "You're too good for me," she said simply. "You shouldn't give a shit about whether I'm uncomfortable or not. But, let me be clear - for once - I will answer any question you have for me. Some will be easier to answer than others, but I want you to know everything. If you want. That's what I wanted all along, but I was just too scared."

"Well, if you love someone - you care about their boundaries and how they feel," you said plainly. Jessie looked at you and you looked away nervously, clearing your throat before turning back. "And. Backtracking. You...love me?"

Jessie smiled for the first time today. It was an emotional, watery, sad smile. But it was a smile. "Yes. I really do. And it's been absolute torture the past couple of days not talking to you - I know it's all my fault though."

You frowned, thoughts almost visibly churning before you set your gaze on her again.

"Wait. But I'm not your first girlfriend. So...was it like this every time?"

Jessie's posture slumped slightly at your question; more-so, the reminder it triggered. That you were the best and she'd treated you the worst.

"No. No, it hasn't been," she admitted as she picked at the fabric of her pants. "I, um, was more open before. And, uh, I guess it backfired. And I've been pretty reserved and nervous about it since."

"Oh," you said quietly, still deep in thought. "But your teammates know, right?"

"Yeah, they all do. Hard for them not to. And they're cool with it, thank God. But otherwise I keep it quiet. It doesn't seem like it, but I'm actually pretty comfortable with that aspect of myself these days. It caused a lot of angst for me for years, but I'm happy with who I am. Relationships though...that's a different matter altogether."

"I'm sorry, Jess," you said gently, pulling a confused look out of her. Again, you shouldn't be worried about her. "That sounds really difficult. That said, do you mind telling me more?"

Jessie turned to you more fully, your knees nearly brushing now. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. You were right that I was far from an open book, but I don't want to be like that anymore. I want you to know everything, if you'd like." She shrunk into herself a bit and waved a hand aimlessly. "And just because I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I think you'll forgive me or something. I understand that, you know, things could end. But I still want you to know."

Surprise flooded Jessie's system as you took her hand and gave it the faintest squeeze, continuing to hold it after.

"Jess. It's okay. I want to know."

She mustered up a tight smile for you and squeezed your hand.

She proceeded to tell you her story. Filling the gaps she'd craftily navigated during previous conversations. The embarrassment she'd felt. The otherness. The ridicule she'd experienced over the years. The rejection. The objectification. And the eventual defeat; of feeling like no one would get her or love her the way she wanted to be loved.

By the time she finished, a new set of tears had finished falling, but what she noted most of all was how you now held her hand in both of yours.

"Baby," you said softly, as you lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly. Jessie looked at you in surprise as she sniffled.

She'd expected the worst, so when you looked at her with warmth and compassion, it caught her off-guard to not see disgust or rejection.

"I'm so sorry you were made to feel like that. You didn't deserve that at all. Some people are so fucking close-minded and terrible. I'm so sorry you had to experience that," you told her.

Her shoulders hitched as she rode out the dying waves of her emotion.

"Thanks," she managed, her voice still congested and strained. "Now you know how hypocritical and truly horrible it was of me to make you feel the way those girls made me feel."

You tilted your head slightly and gave it a slow shake. "No. It's not the same. I mean, yes, I felt terrible, but you weren't trying to hurt me. And now I can understand where you were coming from."

Jessie shook her head in return. "It doesn't make it right though. So...if you let me, I'll do everything I can to try to make it up to you and try to rebuild the trust I've broken. Totally understand if that's off the table though."

"I," you started, chest rising as you took a large breath before relaxing once more, "still love you. So...no, it's not off the table. I still have to process a lot of this and reconcile some things. And, yes, reality is you hurt me, but everything makes so much more sense now. So. Thank you. For finally telling me."

Jessie nodded. "Thank you for hearing me out."

You fidgeted slightly and she watched you carefully. You felt her eyes on you and spoke hesitantly.

"We, um. Didn't exactly address my initial issue though. I mean, I understand now why you've been so closed off and flighty. But, you know, none of this necessarily means that you, um, find me attractive. Because that could still be a problem."

Jessie gave you a disbelieving look. "Of course I find you attractive. Well, okay," she slowed herself down, "I understand why you thought I didn't. But, now that you know everything else, my attraction to you is exactly why I couldn't be remotely physical with you. It was...a bit too much for me. Let's put it that way," Jessie finished as she looked away sheepishly. When she braved a look back your face was tinged pink.

"Oh. Okay. Well..., um. That's nice to know, I guess," you responded awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. That was probably too much information," Jessie mumbled. She cleared her throat before speaking more confidently. "So, no, you have nothing - at all - to worry about there. I think the bigger question now is if you would find me attractive. Now that you know that my, um, anatomy is different."

You blushed deeper and cleared your throat as well.

"Oh. I mean, you're still you. And, I'm curious-" you held up your hands quickly in defense, eyes closing as you corrected yourself, "-not like those other girls. No. I would never use you like that." You opened your eyes once again, calming yourself. "What I mean is. I'm still interested."

Jessie felt an ember of hope flickering in her chest. You were still blushing, giving her fleeting glances until you fully faced her, now serious and prim.

"You get one more chance," you told her firmly, holding up a finger. "I know a lot will be new and there'll be things to navigate, but I won't put up with you being distant and cagey again. Do not lie to me again."

Jessie nearly beamed. She straightened up eagerly and nodded her head rapidly in agreement.

"I won't," she promised before she took a second look at you. "Are you sure you want to try again?"

Your face scrunched up adorably as you shot her a look.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" You asked, affronted.

"No," she refuted, shaking her head adamantly. "I just want to make sure this is what you truly want. I know I dumped a lot on you just now, so...you are more than welcome to take your time to think. And I definitely don't want you to feel guilty in any way."

"I don't feel guilty," you told her. "And," you exhaled quickly, "as you were telling me about all of your experiences and how you've been treated, all I could really think throughout all of it is that I wished there was some way I or someone could go back and protect you from all of that." You picked at your nails idly. "And, I don't know, that I just wanted to hold you. And kiss you." You gave her another stern look, but it was mild at best. "You're not entirely forgiven yet. But I understand you so much better now. So, I do want to try again."

That heavy, horrible ache in her chest she'd been carrying with her the past while was replaced with a sensation of warmth and lightness.

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever met," she told you unwaveringly. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to make things up to you. I'll make sure you never have a doubt about me, or you, or us, again."

"That's a bold promise," you warned with a hint of a smirk.

Jessie smiled at you undeterred. She gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, stopping momentarily to speak before giving you a soft, slow kiss.

"And it's one I intend to keep."

A/N: Next up…smut.

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[wolverigrl]

Rumors

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Warnings: smut! Only 18+!, swearing, angsty, fluffy

!Disclaimer! If you'd like to skip the smut, scroll down as soon as you see "---" in the text. From there, the smut part begins and ends at the next "---"!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

---------------------------------------------------

It's been five months. Five months since our first date, and yet somehow, it feels like both forever and no time at all.

I sit here now, in the gym, watching him lift weights like it’s nothing, and I’m struck by just how lucky I feel. From the very beginning, it was like we found our rhythm without even trying - our relationship is built on mutual respect and trust. We give each other space when needed, and t's refreshing to be with someone who values independence as much as I do.

The dates we've had so far have been perfect in their own way. Our second one was at this hidden gem of a restaurant tucked away in the city. I remember how he laughed when I spilled wine on the tablecloth, and how his hand brushed mine as we reached for the same napkin. We've done simple things too, like grabbing coffee early in the morning or working out. Once, we spent an afternoon at an old bookstore, getting lost in the aisles of dusty novels and sharing passages that made us laugh. Every moment with him feels like a memory in the making

And yet, it all changed a little last month when we were spotted. We hadn't been careful enough. A quick kiss in a park, something so innocent, but the paparazzi caught us. The next day, our picture was splashed across every tabloid and social media. That unintentional confirmation of our relationship wasn't what we had planned. Neither of us wanted the world in on our private lives.

Still, we've dodged every question thrown at us in interviews or on social media. But avoiding the questions doesn't stop the criticism.

The age gap. It's what everyone seems to latch onto. Hugh's used to it - He’s been doing this long enough to know how to handle the press, the rumors, the gossip. But me? I’m still learning how to deal with it. I try to act like it doesn't bother me. I nod along, tell everyone I'm fine, but inside, it's harder than I thought it would be. Some of the comments sting more than I care to admit. I've been in relationships before, but none of them were "public" like this. My exes were all from my private circle - well, except for Chris, but that doesn't count. That was way before either of us was well-known. This, with Hugh, is different. It's out there.

I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep us private for a while longer, to hold onto this little piece of normalcy for just us. But now it’s out, and there’s no taking it back.

Now everything is under scrutiny. People question our relationship and my motives. Of course there are fans who are supportive - sweet comments, even some who come up to me on the street and say they love us together. But then there are the others. The ones who say I’m only with him to advance my career, that I’m using him to get ahead. Ever since our last movie together, I’ve been getting bigger roles, and some people think that’s because of him. Like I can’t earn anything on my own.

I try to brush it off, but there are moments when those words hit hard. And even though Hugh has told me a thousand times to ignore it. I’m not like him. I haven’t been in the spotlight for decades. I don’t have the thick skin he’s developed over the years.

Our managers weren’t thrilled either when they found out we’d been seeing each other behind their backs. It wasn’t anger, really, more disappointment that we hadn’t trusted them enough to let them in on it. But in a way, I’m glad we didn’t. We needed this to just to be ours for a while.

Still, despite all the noise, the criticism, the rumors—there’s comfort between us. We act like a real couple. We’ve never had the talk, though, about what we are exactly. Are we officially together? I don’t even know. We’ve just kind of fallen into this routine, and honestly, love it. I love the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world when we’re together.

My eyes drift back to him as he lowers the weights, his muscles tensing with the effort. He's ridiculously strong, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a turn on. God, he’s attractive. And sweet. And patient. And funny. Sometimes I catch myself even fangirling. I mean, it's still Hugh fucking Jackman. How did I get so lucky?

“You good, y/n?" Hugh’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring.

“Yeah." I say, quickly covering up my awkwardness with a grin. “Just appreciating the view.”

His eyes narrow, that playful smile tugging at his lips. He walks over, sweat still glistening on his skin, and towers above me, crossing his arms. “You know, you could’ve just taken a picture.”

“Maybe I will next time,” I tease, leaning back on the bench.

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Or you could just join me instead of sitting over there like a creep.”

“Please. I did twice as many reps as you did earlier,” I say, pretending to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow. “I deserve a break.”

“Is that right?” He raises an eyebrow, leaning down so we’re almost face-to-face. “Pretty sure I saw you struggling with those squats.”

“I wasn’t struggling." I protest, trying to keep a straight face, but his cocky grin is making it impossible.

“You say that now, but your form—”

“My form was perfect!” I laugh, pushing his arm lightly. “Stop acting like you weren’t impressed.”

“Oh, I was impressed." he admits, his voice dropping an octave. “Just not with your workout.”

The heat between us flares up in an instant, the way it always does when he looks at me like that. There’s this pull, this magnetic energy that I haven’t felt in a while. We flirt, we tease, we push each other’s buttons, and it’s exhilarating. But there’s always this line we haven’t fully crossed yet. We get close - so close - but we always pull back.

We go back and forth like this until we wrap up our workout. Hugh's leaving for Sydney tomorrow to visit his family for a few weeks, but his kids won't be able to join him because they're going on holiday with their mom, so it'll just be him this time

I'll admit, I already miss him so much. I don't really know what to do yet. So far, we've spent pretty much every day together, but now that the interviews are slowly getting fewer and everyday life is getting quieter, it's getting boring without someone to keep me on my toes. I guess Ryan and Blake will have to take over.

After the gym, we head back to his place, still bickering about who did better with which exercises. By the time we're on the couch, it's turned into playful shoving and teasing until his lips are on mine, and everything else fades away. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the way his lips feel on mine, the way his touch sets my skin on fire.

But just as things are about to cross that line again, I pull away, leaving him breathless and staring at me in confusion.

"You’re impossible." he mutters, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice.

I smile sweetly, standing up and stretching. “I need a shower.”

"You’re an absolutely evil woman!" he calls after me as I walk toward the bathroom, but I don’t turn around. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.

I can't help but smile to myself as I undress and step into the shower. The hot water cascades down my skin, but my mind is elsewhere - back on the couch, replaying the way his hands felt on me, the way his breath hitched when I kissed him. It's getting harder to hold back, to not give in to the growing desire between us. We've come close before - so many times - but for some reason, we always stop right pefore things get too far. It's like we're both waiting for the perfect moment. I'm not in a rush, but God, he makes it so hard to resist.

But it’s not just physical. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel seen. I’ve never been so comfortable with someone, and that scares me a little. I’m falling for him - hard - and I’m terrified of what that means. We’ve never even talked about what we are, and here I am, thinking about how much I want him, how much I love him.

The thought stops me in my tracks. Am I in love with him? My heart pounds in my chest, and I realize that, yes, I probably am. But I don’t know if he feels the same way. What if this is just something casual for him? What if I bring it up, and he doesn’t feel the same? He’s never pressured me, never pushed for more, and sometimes I wonder if he’s happy with how things are - just casual, just fun.

When I'm done, I slip into my pajamas - just a simple tank top and shorts - and head into the bedroom. Hugh's sitting on the edge of the bed, scroling through his phone, but he glances up when I walk in.

"Took you long enough." he says with a mischievous grin. "Were you thinking about me in there?"

I smirk, leaning against the doorway.

"Maybe?"

He laughs, setting his phone down and standing up. He walks over to me, placing one hand on my hip, the other cupping my face. His lips brush mine in a teasing kiss, his hand sliding down to give my ass a playful squeeze.

"Behave." I mutter, but my voice betrays me, sounding more breathless than I intended.

"Why? I thought you like it when I don’t." he says, that teasing grin never faltering.

Before I can respond, he pulls away and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

I sighed and lay down on the bed and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Before I can lose myself in my thoughts again, I hear the water turn off, and a minute later, Hugh steps back into the room, still dripping wet and wrapped only in his towel, which hangs dangerously low. I can't take my eyes off him. He's searching through the dresser, muttering something about forgetting his boxers, but I don't hear the words. My heart pounds in my chest, and I know - I know - this is it. I can’t hold back anymore.

Without second guessing, I get up and cross the room, moving toward him without a word. He watches me, his brow furrowing in slight confusion, but there’s something else there too.

When I reach him, I stop, just inches away, and look up at him. I don’t say anything for a long moment. I just let myself feel the weight of this moment.

---

Finally, I find my voice, though it’s softer than I expected. “I want you.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I think I’ve surprised him. But then, something shifts in his expression, and the air between us thickens. He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek as he studies my face.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low, husky, and I can see the restraint in his eyes. He’s giving me an out. One last chance to change my mind. But I don’t want out. Not anymore.

“Yes." I whisper, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “I’m sure.”

That’s all it takes. In an instant, his lips are on mine, and the kiss is different this time - deeper. Hungrier. His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him, and I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.

Before I know it, he’s lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the roughness of the towel against my skin. His grip tightens, and I’m suddenly aware of just how much I want him - how much I’ve always wanted him.

The kiss grew more intense, more desperate, and I can feel the last remnants of our restraint crumbling. He carries me over to the bed, his towel loosening around his hips, and gently lays me down. Our breaths are ragged, our bodies pressed together in a way that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

His kisses moved to my neck while one of his hands disappeared under my top. I gasped softly and ran my hands over his strong back. He began to gently squeeze my breast as I pressed his hips against mine with my legs, clearly feeling his arousal. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his groin against me and applied more pressure to my breast.

"Please." I said softly and looked at him greedily. "Please what, love?" he broke away from my lips and straightened up a little to get a better look at my face.

I couldn't help myself and looked down to his towel, which was now hanging down so low that you could see his perfect v-line clearly, as well as the vein under his belly button.

I swallowed and also straightened up to pull my top over my head.

"Fucking hell." he muttered quietly. I lay back down with my arms over my head and looked straight at him. "Just stop holding back and fuck me already."

He didn't need to be told twice and leaned over me again. The kiss was wilder than before and I felt like his hands were everywhere. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice that he had already thrown my shorts on the floor. It was only when I felt his fingers on my clit that I realized it. I gasped out loud and dug my fingers in his hair and shoulders as he caressed my neck and circled his thumb over my clit. I was a complete wreck. Everything happened so quickly, but somehow it also didn't. I pressed my knees into Hugh's sides and pushed my pelvis towards him as he slid two fingers inside me. I moaned loudly and pushed my head back into the pillow. Suddenly I felt an electrifying sensation as he ran his tongue around my breast and sucked on it. He curled his fingers in and moved his hand faster. I moaned loudly again and pressed my nails firmly into his shoulder as a pleasurable feeling came over me in my abdomen.

Hugh's kisses moved back up to my lips until he released his heavy breath and slid his fingers out of me.

He looked at me full of lust and totally befuddled. I had never seen him like this before. But seeing him like this almost made me go crazy myself. He smiled gently at me and stroked a few strands of hair from my face. "You're so damn beautiful."

I felt my face flush and ran my hands down his torso to his dick, smiling. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as I slowly began to stroke him.

I clenched around nothing and bit my lip as I looked at him.

He looked at me again, bent both my legs and pulled my hands away, to stroke his own member. He rubbed his pre-cum wet tip against my clit and looked deep into my eyes. It made me absolutely feral.

"Hell. Stop fucking teasing!" I growled. Without another word, he slid into me and put my legs over his shoulders. I moaned loudly and curled my toes. He was breathing heavily and you could see how much he was controlling himself.

"You're so fucking tight." He slowly began to move his hips and it drove me wild when I felt him filling me up. "Baby please don't hold back." I moaned and closed my eyes.

"Eyes on me my love." he groaned and thrusted harder. I gasped, a little startled, and looked him straight in the eyes. My hands disappeared into his hair again and his speed increased steadily. I felt everything slowly boiling up inside me and I clenched hard around his dick. That eye contact. His moans. The sounds of our bodies hitting each other and the thick air in the room. Everything began to spin around me and I could no longer maintain eye contact.

"I'm gonna cum!" I moaned as I felt him thrusting even deeper than before. Hugh now closed his own eyes, let my legs off his shoulders and pressed both my hands over my head with one hand to stimulate my clit with the other. He was panting loudly himself. "Cum for me baby. I wanna see how you cum all over me."

That gave me the rest and for a brief moment I thought I was seeing the white light. My legs were shaking like crazy and I felt an incredible pull in my abdomen. Hugh moaned with me and let go of me to support himself with his forearms next to my head instead.

Panting, he rested his head in the crook of my neck while I stroked his sweaty back. Shortly afterwards, I felt his rhythm become more and more irregular until he did a last hard thrust and moaned loudly. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his pulsing dick made my skin crawl and I pressed myself tightly against him with my legs and arms.

There was complete silence for a moment. I could only hear our panting and our heartbeats in the room.

I felt his semen leaking out of me and slowly running down my bottom.

Hugh pulled away to lay down next to me and pulled me to his side before kissing me on the forehead. I smiled at him and stroked his sweaty chest with my hand.

"We should probably have done it before the shower." Hugh said with a smirk and looked at me.

"Or in the shower." He laughed and nodded.

---

After cleaning up, we lay together, our bodies entwined under the blanket. The room is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing slowly returning to normal. Hugh is beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my skin. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and there’s a comfort in the silence between us.

But there’s also a weight, a need to say something. To define this.

I shift slightly, turning so I can face him. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. Then, softly, I ask. "Do you ever… worry? About what people say about us?”

His brow furrows slightly, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face before answering. “What people say? You mean the age thing?”

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “Yeah. And the way they watch us. The paparazzi, the rumors… It’s just hard sometimes.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. “I know it’s hard, y/n and I’m sorry you have to deal with all that because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say quickly. “I just… sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But I don't want to be that person who lets the outside world affect what we have." I whisper. "But sometimes it just... gets to me."

"You're not that person." he assures me, his voice firm but gentle. "You're human. And it's okay to feel that way. The important thing is that we talk about it, like we're doing now.. And you don’t have to handle it alone." he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “I’m here. We’re in this together.”

His words are soothing, but there’s still a part of me that struggles with the reality of our situation. I bite my lip, hesitating before speaking again. “Sometimes I wonder… if maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Hey." he interrupts softly, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Don’t go there. We’re good, okay? We’re more than good.”

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just don’t want it to get too complicated.”

Hugh is silent for a moment, then he asks quietly. “Would it help if we made it official?”

I blink, my heart skipping a beat. “Official?”

He gives me a small smile, his eyes soft as he looks at me. “Yeah. Maybe then they will stop harassing us with their questions." For a moment we both were silent before he started to speak again. "Like… would you want to be my girlfriend?”

My heart swells at the simplicity of his question and made me speechless. Then I slowly nod, a smile spreading across my face. “Yeah." I whisper. “I’d like that.”

He grins, pulling me closer and pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, content.

After a while, he pulls back, looking thoughtful. “You know, I’m heading to Australia tomorrow to visit family.”

I nod, already knowing. “Yeah, you mentioned that. How long will you be gone?”

“A few weeks." he says, his fingers brushing over my arm absently. “But… I was thinking. What if you came with me?”

I blink in surprise. “To Sydney?”

“Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought it’d be nice… spending some more time together. Away from all this.”

I hesitate, the idea both exciting and terrifying. “I don’t know, Hugh. It feels… fast. I haven’t even met your family yet.”

He chuckles softly. “You wouldn’t have to. Not unless you wanted to. It can just be the two of us. We can do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you."

I smile softly at his words, feeling my heart swell.

“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, leaning my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a calming rhythm that soothes the anxiety swirling in my mind.

“Good,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently through my hair. “That’s all I ask. No pressure.”

I bite my lip, thinking it over. The idea is tempting - really tempting.

"Okay." I say, making the decision. "I'II come. But maybe I'll fly out a week later. That way I can maybe meet up with Blake and Ryan, maybe even visit Chris in Boston."

Hugh nods, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Deal. A week later, and we'll have the best time. Just you and me."

We share another soft kiss, and can't help but laugh against his lips.

After our conversation, we lay there for a little while longer, basking in the afterglow of everything we’d just shared. The weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks felt lighter now that we’d talked about it.

Eventually, we sat up, and the idea struck me - if we were really ready to move forward, maybe it was time to let the world know about us on our own terms.

“I was thinking…” I start, glancing over at him. “We should post a photo of us."

Hugh’s eyebrows lifted in slight surprise. “You sure about that?”

I nod, feeling a sense of resolve I hadn’t felt before. “Yeah. I mean the media already knows about us and we can't hide anymore. So why not?"

A smile tugs at his lips, and he reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s take a picture then.”

I chuckle. “But maybe we should put on some clothes first?”

Hugh laughs softly, the sound sending a warmth through me. “Yeah, I suppose we shouldn’t scandalize the internet too much.”

As I sit up, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bedroom mirror and grimace slightly. My hair’s a mess from… well, everything, and I’m definitely not looking my best. “Ugh. I look awful.”

Hugh stands up and shakes his head with an amused smile. “You look perfect,” he says, casually reaching into his closet for a shirt. He pulls one on, his muscles stretching the fabric in a way that makes it hard for me to focus. “Come on, we’ll take a cute one.”

I roll my eyes playfully but grab one of his T-shirts from the drawer. “Fine, but if I look weird, we’re deleting it.”

“No way!” he teases, pulling me into his arms once I have the shirt on. “You could never look weird.”

I can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around me from behind. He holds the phone up in front of us, angling it to get the perfect shot. “Okay, smile!”

I glance up at him just as he snaps the picture. My smile turns into a laugh, the joy bubbling out of me before I can stop it. I look ridiculous, but when I see the photo, it’s kind of perfect. Hugh’s grinning at the camera, looking all charming and effortlessly handsome as always, while I’m gazing up at him, clearly laughing and obviously so in love.

I bite my lip, hesitating. “I don’t know… I look a little -"

“You look great." Hugh cuts in, his tone firm but soft. “Come on, y/n. This is us. It’s real.”

I glance at the picture again. He’s right. It’s not some polished, perfect photo shoot - it's just us. Happy, in love, and completely ourselves. I sigh, giving in. “Okay, fine. Let’s post it.”

He beams at me, clearly pleased, and starts typing a caption on his phone. I lean over his shoulder to read it:

>>thehughjackman: Caught laughing at all the rumors... guess they weren't all wrong🤫 #couplegoals<<

I laugh, rolling my eyes playfully "#CoupleGoals? Really?"

"You're right." he says, smirking as he backspaces. "How about.. #HughJackedY/n?"

I swat him laughing, and he finally posts it without any hashtag.

I take my smartphone and also post it with another caption:

>>y/ninstagram: Who knew Wolverine was such a softie?❤️🐺<<

And just like that, it’s out there. The world now knows officially. My heart pounds a little faster as the notifications start rolling in almost instantly. I feel a rush of nervous excitement—what will people say?

We sit there, watching as the comments flood in, one after another.

>>vancityreynolds: Took you long enough!<<

>>blakelively:This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Love you both!<<

>>ChrisEvans: Treat her right or Cap's coming for you!💪🏻<<

>>zendaya: Omg, stop! You guys are ADORABLE<<

>>officialladydeadpoolmovie: Deadpool approves of this union. Carry on.<<

I glance at Hugh as the comments keep pouring in, feeling a strange mixture of warmth and relief. There’s so much love here—so many people supporting us. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

“I told you it’d be fine,” Hugh says, his voice soft. He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “And look, everyone’s happy for us.”

I smile at him, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

More comments continue to roll in, some from fans, some from friends:

>>florencepugh: I KNEW IT!!!<<

But it’s the fan comments that really make me smile:

>>lordyx3z: Omg, I knew they were together! This makes me so happy!🥹😩<<

>>serenax77: Remember when y/n literally said 'fuck me' during an interview? Manifesting at its finest😂😂😭<<

>>hugh4ewa: Hugh, blink twice if y/n's forcing you to post couple pics😂<<

>>y/nno1fan: About damn time! Y'all had me waiting like the post credits scene of a Marvel Movie!<<

>>mynameseve: I need somebody to look at me, like y/n looks at Hugh😭❤️<<

>>girlpoolxpoppins: Can somebody pls check on Ryan? ASAP<<

>>boyinyellwspndx: y/n: "fck me!" - Hugh: "Say less". Dreams come true folks<<

I can’t help but grin at the flood of positivity. Sure, I know there will be some haters - there always are - but for now, it feels like we’re surrounded by love and support, and that’s all that matters. I glance at Hugh again, my heart swelling as he scrolls through the comments, laughing at some of the more playful ones.

“This was a good idea.” I say quietly, resting my head on his shoulder.

He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Of course it was.” he murmurs. “Now everyone knows you’re officially mine.”

I laugh softly, my heart feeling full. “And you’re mine.”

We sit there for a while, reading through the comments and enjoying the moment. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like we’re finally free to be ourselves without worrying about what anyone else thinks.

And honestly? It feels perfect.

---------------------------------------------------

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01

Next part

[luveline]

For KBD asks. Maybe pregnant! Reader and Steve are able to have a little babymoon with just the two of them and he’s just super sweet and lovey dovey with reader 😊😊 love your writing!!

KBD —you and Steve spend some rare time alone. mom!reader

You thought going on vacation three weeks before your due date was one, misguided, and two, more pain than it was worth, but Steve insisted it would be relaxing and you’d figured why not. He deserves a vacation. 

You wished you’d done this for every baby, now. 

“What a beautifully huge bump.” 

You don’t feel beautiful, huge is allowed. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You and Steve lay lakeside, just a couple hours from home. He passes you a glass wet with condensation, a drink you’re sharing, your turn to sip at the slushy insides. 

“It really is ginormous,” you say after a sip. It’s not horrifying or alien or anything people love to say of big baby bumps, but it is heavy. Perhaps not as beautiful as you wish, but doing a good job. You hold your stomach. In half a moment, the baby stirs. 

“Any further along for names?”

With three girls at home and a fourth drawing near, you’ve not thought about it much. There are other urgent matters to attend to, dance classes, crayons, a new bassinet, a new rocker, a new everything that Steve had to build. You’ve been trying to make sure everybody in the family is happy, including Steve, which hasn’t left much time just for you. 

The babymoon was a great idea. Steve is a genius, ten times as thoughtful as he thinks he is.

“Not one,” you say. 

“Well, you’ll think of something.” 

“Can you come and kiss me?” You turn your face to point at the soft skin under your jaw. “Right here?” 

Steve lays like a dead body in his chair. Boneless, he turns his head away from you, then slowly back. “Oh, sorry, are you talking to me? You wouldn’t really make your gorgeous husband get up again when he’s only just laid down, right?” 

“As opposed to what, gorgeous husband?” you ask mildly. “You want me to get up?” 

You’re lucky you can still move. Bump is huge and hurting. Every step you take hurts both your ankles and your spine. 

Steve sighs like he’s in pain, but he gets up. He crosses the step to your lounger, and kneels down beside it. “Where did you want it?” he asks, his breaths throwing goosebumps down your arms. 

“Wherever you wanna put it.” 

“I could kiss all over you,” he says, bringing his turned hand to your cheek, flat of his nail caressing your cheek. “Don’t tempt me.” 

He moves his hand to the other cheek, furthest from him, and holds your face, giving you a firm squeeze. It’s not intimidating, the opposite, like a silent I got you as he turns your face away and leans in. 

“Here?” he asks against the place you’d pointed. 

You laugh, taking a fistful of his soft hair. “Stop, you’re tickling me.” 

“You asked for this.” 

“I asked for a kiss.” 

“Right.” He kisses you in the place you’d pointed originally. 

“This is really nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Not just the kiss. This vacation.” You brush your fingers through his hair. 

“I wish we’d known about it before. I love our girls, but…” 

But this is the first time you and Steve have been alone together for a long, long time, the first time you’ve ever been completely alone with your new baby. You can’t forget how much you love Steve, but it’s a great reassurance to be here and remember that you’re good together. You’re a family unit, but you’re also just Y/N and Steve. 

“I miss spending time with you,” Steve says. “I know this is the worst time to say it, but we need to spend more time together, just you and me.” 

You turn into his hand. “No, I get it,” you whisper.

It doesn’t need to be said how much you love your kids, isn’t that what you’re thinking day in and day out? You love them, you take care of them, it’s a full time job. And yet this time without them feels rare and priceless at once. It’s not a great time to realise it when you’re about to have a newborn and absolutely no free time, but it’s okay. You can make it work. 

Steve wraps his arms around you, forcing you forward to embrace you tightly. You're quick to hug back. 

“I’ll never get over you,” he says. 

“‘Magine we never met.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“I can’t think about it without you… doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It doesn’t make sense, we’re the only right way.” He smiles into your cheek. 

“I really can’t picture my life without you.” 

Steve draws back. He can’t look at you with any more softness than he does then, even as his lips turn into a smirky grin. “You don’t need to. And let’s not! It’s exhausting, I just wanna lay in the sun with you, listen to the sound of the lake.” 

“Are your knees hurting?” 

You’ve just remembered he’s kneeling in shorts on the wooden dock. Steve laughs. “Who cares about my knees? Come on, I’m having another kiss.” 

“Says who?” you ask. 

He tips your chin up. 

[lunajay33]

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

[artyandink]

that’s my man (and my woman)

Summary: Your kids are curious little buggers. Asking questions about everything and anything under the sun. So there comes the complications of when your kids ask you if you’ve fallen in love before. How will you explain everything? Time to put your imagination to use.

A/N - I’ve been putting out a lot of sexy fics recently. Why not some fluff?

Song Inspo: Style - Taylor Swift and Perfect - Ed Sheeran

It took so long just to get two human beings to eat breakfast.

“Charlie, Sam, breakfast!” You called up the stairs, sighing after you did. Your hands were on your hips in true mom fashion, and disbelief and faux-regret was your adrenaline high this time as you wondered why exactly you had kids. That you loved to death despite their poor eating schedule. “Come on, I made pancakes.”

The thundering of little feet on the stairs told you that you had two incoming hurricanes.

Your seven year old boy, Sam, and your five year old girl, Charlie, appeared at the bottom of the stairs with broad smiles, crashing into you for a bear hug that knocked the wind out of your sails. You laughed as you hugged them back, giving a few pats of their head each. “Hey, there. Ready for breakfast?”

“Is there syrup?” Charlie asked eagerly, running and hopping into a high chair, grabbing her plate of pancakes and bringing it to her with a familiar lick of her lips and happy, twitchy grin. Sam had gotten his father’s hair, while Charlie had gotten yours. But the eyes were swapped around, and it was always a point of laughing. Not one child could be more like one or the other.

Arguably, both kids had their father’s dimples and smile. So yes, he could stake his claim.

“And whipped cream?” Sam added with a toothy grin.

“Raspberries?”

“Blueberries?”

You shook your head with a chuckle; such chatterboxes. You opened the fridge and a cabinet, getting out the maple syrup, whipped cream and strawberries. “Not too much, ok?” You passed the toppings to them, and with a chorused ‘yes, mom’, they proceeded to completely disregard your orders. It made you shake your head again, huffing out a breath when all sense of scolding them disappeared once you saw the golden morning light hitting their little heads as they squealed and laughed.

Kids. You loved them to bits.

“Mom,” Charlie asked through a bite of pancake and whipped cream that smeared over her mouth, “have you ever loved someone before?”

The question startled you slightly, but you grabbed a kitchen towel, cleaning her lips with a soft smile as she shied away with a shriek of delight, little bunches waving about wildly. “Course I have, sweetie. But only once.”

“Ooh, tell me, tell me!” She giggled, while Sam cringed a little, muttering a small ‘gross’ that got a sharp glare and pout from Charlie. Out of care for his little sister, he shut himself up.

You took a slow breath in to give yourself time to think, leaning on the counter and putting down the paper towel. “Well, it started a long time ago. When I was twenty six, all young.”

“That’s old.” Sam wrinkled his nose in confusion. You scoffed lightly, because it damn wasn’t, but he was just a kid.

“Behave, Samuel.” You ruffled his hair with a laugh. “We met at my old job. 4th October, 2006. He had his brother with him. Now, I thought he was trouble. He had a leather jacket and one of those really fancy, loud cars and he was very popular with girls.” You reached out to tickle Charlie’s side, which had her squeaking. “But he was likeable, and charming, so I wanted to bump into him more often.”

“Was he cool?” Sam perked up, suddenly very interested. “He sounds cool.”

You pinched his chin affectionately. “The coolest. But our job was very tiring. We went through a lot of big stuff, like I told you in your bedtime stories. There would be vampires and werewolves and fairies of all kinds, but he and I would always save the day. And if we didn’t, we’d save the next day.”

“You saved the world!” Charlie exclaimed, making an aeroplane with a pancake bite on her fork. The action sent a flutter of warmth and love through your chest. For your family. Something you thought you’d never have.

You nodded, guiding the bite to her mouth gently before your hyperactive child sent the fork flying. “That’s right, gumdrop. We saved the world.” It was like telling a story, of you and your prince. “I couldn’t help but love him. He’d call me sweetheart and hold me tight. He’d look at me with a wide smile on his face, just for me. And he told me I was the one he was looking for.”

“That’s corny.” Sam piped up, but he also had a wide, goofy, dimpled grin on his face. He leaned forward. “So, where is he now? Did you two leave each other?”

“Well, he-” The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the house, followed by soft padding steps and heavier ones not so far behind.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” A familiar voice called, the deep one which always had your stomach doing flips. That you heard murmuring sweet nothings in your ear every damn day. “C’mon Miracle, stay still- attaboy. Such a good boy.”

“That would be your father.” You sighed, not in a disappointed way, but a lovesick teenager way because hearing the word ‘sweetheart’ from your husband’s mouth never got old.

Your husband. Damn, you didn’t think you’d make it to that point. Not when Chuck was still a threat. Or even that rebar that Jack saved him from.

Your kids shrieked happily and practically flew off their high chairs, sprinting towards their dad, who was busy taking off his jacket in the hallway.

Dean Winchester. All 6’ 1” of flannel and denim, but this time with burden-free smiles and lit up looks.

When he saw his two munchkins, the jacket was off in a flash and he’d bent to one knee in order to absorb the impact of two koala hugs. “Aw, hey, squirt number one and two. Hope you didn’t give your mom much trouble.”

It felt so much better than the impact of a punch. Indescribably better.

“Dad!” The two giggled at the same time, accepting two kisses on the forehead each while being smothered by their dad’s strong arms. Warm and comforting and no longer instruments of destruction.

They’d always be somewhat like that, Dean thought in the back of his mind. The seed of doubt sowing in again.

Then Dean saw you in the hallway, and his brain forgot to work, doubts forgot to sow and crept into the dark corner it came from. You, his wife (he never got tired of the way that word rolled off his tongue), Mrs Winchester, standing there all pretty looking at him with those eyes of yours that always saw through his crap and often jackassery.

Dressed up in his undershirt, your sweats with the last few winks of sleep yet to go from your eyes, but still working yourself to the bone to make sure your kids had a good meal. A far cry of the days where he’d look up, see you covered in blood that wasn’t yours, adrenaline-pumped with that sexy fire in your eyes, machete in hand instead of that ring he bought around your finger.

He preferred this look on you. It meant you were safe.

Dean watched as you gave Miracle an idle scratch before ushering the kids into the kitchen, then walking up to him and wrapping those gorgeous arms around his neck, gorgeous eyes twinkling and your gorgeous lips stretched into a smile.

The whole nine yards, apple pie and picket fence of gorgeous and it was all his. All his personal heaven.

“Mrs Winchester.” He murmured, nudging your nose with his as his arms circled your waist, drawing you in and gripping your hips with both underlying possessiveness and a tender glow in those emerald eyes. Your soul soaring and low, warm vibrations in your body increasing until it was at the frequency of his. Syncing you both.

“Mr Winchester.” You giggled softly as you let your lips meet his once, pulling back. Then you couldn’t help yourself, letting them meet in holy matrimony again. And again. And again, over and over until you were both mentally and physically restraining yourselves due to your children being in the next room.

“We have to stop.” Dean chuckled, his hand tangling in your hair as the other inched down from its place on your hip, taking yet another hit of your honeyed lips.

“We do.” You whispered back, meeting his ministrations with the slow massage of your thumb against his scalp from where your fingers ran through his hair, your other hand on his chest.

Over his heart.

“Hard to when y’looking so pretty, darlin’, and you know it.” He huffed, nuzzling your nose before dipping to press a slow, hot kiss to your jugular. “Wearin’ my shirt too, hardens the bargain. And these sweats, god, you know what they do for your ass.” As if to punctuate his point (and sentence), he gave a quick, firm slap to it. “Ain’t makin’ it easy for me here, baby.”

“Dean!” You squeaked, giggling. “Our kids are in the kitchen.”

“Lil’ buggers. My sex drive’s arch nemesis.” He groaned against your neck, but listened anyway, taking his hand off your ass and cupping your cheeks, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, then hairline. “C’mon.” You two made your way to the kitchen, where Miracle then padded over, rearing on his hind legs to paw at Dean’s jeans for attention. He obliged, bending down to ruffle Miracle’s golden coat.

“Hey, boy.” He whispered, fingers doing good work to give Miracle the love he was whining for. “I love you a lot, ok? But I’ve got a wife, a very sweet, very sexy…” Dean gave you a once over with a lick of his lip and a quick bite of the bottom one, “wife. And I wanna get her in bed today, so don’t ruin this one for me. All respect given. Alright?”

A small whimper of affirmation.

“Attaboy.” Dean gave Miracle a quick scratch behind the ear before straightening up.

“C’mon, mom, tell us what happened to the cool guy!” Sam insisted, which had Dean raising an eyebrow at you in question. Cool guy? Who, what, when, where, how, why?

“Yeah, the one that stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes!” Charlie added, making a heart with her tiny hands.

Dean smirked, leaning against the counter by his hip. “Oh? Who stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes, honey? Do tell.”

“First of all, I did not say that.” You chuckled, raising a finger.

“You don’t have to. It’s all here.” Charlie pointed to her own eyes with an intense stare at her finger and a cute pout. It almost had you melting. “But tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully with a laugh, then took Dean’s hand and kissed the battle-scarred knuckle.

The gesture making Dean internally melt and externally making his eyes fill up with hearts and his lips twitch into a warm smile.

“I married him.” You said softly, your eyes mirroring the same look.

“Damn right.” He chuckled, leaning forward and meeting your lips in a sweet, slow kiss. Free from the stress of an Apocalypse or a battle. That tasted like coffee and toothpaste rather than beer or whiskey and had no rush. His hand cradling your cheek while yours gently cupped the back of his head. Breathing in his body wash that wasn’t low grade anymore. You still had the unlimited credit cards, so you had more time for things like these. The little things.

You became absorbed in everything Dean, the kiss not as passionate as when he’d dipped you and took your breath away in front of a crowd of hunters on your wedding day but still had the same meaning. The whispers of the vows you two had choked out through tears. He became absorbed in you, in the sweet taste of a croissant on your tongue and your floral scent dizzying and overwhelming his senses in a good way. It was you he was feeling. It felt like you, so real, so safe. It felt like home.

“Ewwww!” You were interrupted by Sam and Charlie, and you broke apart, foreheads pressing together with a soft laugh coming from the both of you.

His hand on your waist, yours carding through his hair. Comfort, assurance, something you both had been deprived of for fifteen straight years. You wouldn’t let being Mrs Winchester go. Not now, not ever.

Mrs Winchester. Never got old.

I’d appreciate a like, comment and/or reblog! Make sure to do this for all your favourite writers so they get inspiration!

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[moonstruckme]

hi love, i've been doing kind of unwell lately and was wondering if you could write some remus x depressed reader or just comfort in a domestic way in general. been feeling like i suck at doing 'normal' every-day things and only a hug from rem could fix me lol

Hi sweetheart, I'm sorry to hear it :( I hope you're giving yourself a bit of grace and getting support if you can <3

cw: reader is experiencing a depressive period

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 695 words

You realize it must be afternoon when you hear the front door open. The last few days, time seems to drag on without you. Your hours are long and irrelevant, one bleeding into the next without your notice. But you know Remus wasn’t supposed to get back from his work trip until this afternoon. 

Your home is still a mess. You’d thought you’d clean it before he could see, but apparently your shame wasn’t enough to overpower your lethargy. It feels powerful now. 

You close your eyes as Remus comes into the bedroom, but you know what he sees. Despite your best efforts, the curtains aren’t thick enough to block out all light, so there isn’t much to obscure the wrappers littering the floor, the crumbs on the bed, the towel where you’d spilled some water and then been too lazy to finish cleaning it up. You know he’s already witnessed a similar disaster in the kitchen and living room, and yet you feel worse for being found at the center of it in here. 

Remus is silent as he sets down his bag, walks in between trash and other debris, and crawls up onto the bed with you. 

“Hi, lovely,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek with a hand on your shoulder. “I missed you.” 

You start crying. Fat, hot tears that carve down your cheeks with unnatural quietude. You feel anything but lovely right now. 

“Sweetheart.” Remus’ eyebrows come together knowingly. His thumb moves over your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, a choked whisper. “I didn’t mean for it to get this bad.” 

He hushes you softly, his voice a balm. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, it really is. I promise I don’t mind. Just relax, babydove, everything’s alright. I love you. We’re okay.” 

He lies there with you while your tears slow and stop. It takes a couple of tries, your breaths halting when you try to hold them in, but Remus’ presence is steady and tolerant. His thumb strokes your shoulder until the muscles underneath it relax. 

“We’re okay,” he says again, a reminder. He kisses you, tucking a hand underneath your cheek. “Why didn’t you call and tell me you weren’t feeling well? We could have talked about it, or I could have come home.” 

You lick your bottom lip. The taste of him mixes with the taste of salt. “I didn’t want to bother you—”

“Oi.” It’s not harsh, but the reprimand in his tone isn’t lost entirely to gentleness. Remus holds your face in his hand, looking you in the eyes. “You could never. Understand?” He allows you a brief pause, and his expression softens. “I would always rather know when you’re not feeling well, sweetheart. Even if we’d decided I shouldn’t come home, I could have at least tried to look after you in other ways.” 

You uptilt one side of your mouth half-heartedly. “It wouldn’t have felt fair to have you looking after me from afar when I can’t even look after our place from here.” 

Remus tsks. He kisses you again, an overly generous reward for your poor attempt at humor. “Stop worrying about that,” he chides sweetly, dotting another kiss on your cheek. “I know you convince yourself that I’ll be upset, but I really don’t care. We can tidy up together later, if you’re feeling up to it. I’m not fussed either way.” 

You close your eyes, relinquishing yourself to Remus’ ministrations. He spends a slow minute sweeping his thumb over your cheek, kissing an enigmatic pattern on your face, coasting his hand down from your shoulder to rub your back. Your face presses his hand into your pillow. 

“Can I ask you to do something for me?” he asks softly. 

You hum in response. You would do anything for him; you would try your best. 

“Come sit with me in the kitchen while I make us something to eat?” His lips brush over yours as if to sweeten the deal. “Just to keep me company. I missed you a lot, you know.” 

You kiss him back, tender and light. Your heart hurts; it’s a pleasant ache. “I missed you, too.” 

[meyhew]

“WHAT WE MOURN FOR THE DEAD IS THE LOSS OF THEIR HOPES.”

I never thought I’d make this post. Any time I imagined a One Direction member dying, I pictured myself weathered and grey. This was an eventuality that wasn’t supposed to be actualized until the boys and I had lived full lives. To have to come to terms with Liam’s death—his perpetual absence moving forward—in my mid twenties feels absurd. I wrote a long thing the day after I found out, so I’ve already gotten some thoughts out. I’m going to try and keep this short. I likely won’t succeed.

Liam was kind. If he’s remembered for anything, I hope it’s that. I know he helped out with food banks in London during lockdown because there were photos of him packing boxes, but I didn’t know until now how much money he gave them. £80,000 without any publicity. And it wasn’t a one-time donation. He kept working with various orgs to help food insecure people. In the week leading up to that unfortunate Wednesday, he gave away thousands to fundraisers—primarily set up to help people with severe illnesses. He’d been part of Soccer Aid for years. He was involved with anti-bullying campaigns. He worked with Rays of Sunshine to make hundreds of sick children happy. Over the years, he also donated to nonprofits that help children in Gaza and other places. The T-shirt he designed for Choose Love has garnered nearly £200,000; Choose Love has been working with the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund and Medical Aid for Palestinians to provide desperately needed aid in Gaza. Liam understood the value of his wealth, and what his social responsibility was. He did his part to make this world better.

All that without taking into account everything Liam did for us. The youtube videos he started during quarantine because it was a way to distract people, give them something to look forward to. His comedic timing was something special. The discord server where he talked to fans and highlighted their creative endeavors. His livestreams, the endless culture-defining tweets he made. I still see people laughing about his tweets. We all remember Mrs. Horan, yes? I mean, go all the way back to TwitCams. Just google the phrase and one of the first videos you get will be Liam’s. From day one, he took it upon himself to make sure the fans were happy. That we felt seen, heard. And he kept One Direction alive for us, on occasion at a great personal cost. He performed deep cuts we’d never seen sung live, he was always so enthusiastic about everyone else’s projects, he never shied away from talking about the band—because it made us happy. He knew what the band meant to us, the blend of hope and nostalgia many of us clung to, and he held on with us. For us. The masses ridiculed him for his clinginess, and he didn’t let go—for us. I’m sure he knew there are those of us for whom the name One Direction still means everything. And how right he was. Look at the global charts for the past two weeks. We’ve made history again. Because of Liam. He had been the glue holding a lot of the fandom together, whether people realized it or not. He brought us all together again in the most heartbreaking of ways.

One Direction came into my life at a time when I was becoming lonelier by the day. I had moved to a new country two years prior, and I didn’t yet have many friends because I knew only enough English to get by at school. Outside of school, I had no friends. They were all back home in the place I’d left. All I had was my two siblings—and when you’re 13 years old, your 14 yr old sister is hardly the person you want to spend all your time with. I didn’t have space for me, to do and to be something that was just mine.

Then I found 1d through a girl at school and they became that something for me. I bettered my English by watching them talk. I found this community because of them, and I have learned so much from being a part of it. So many wonderful people have touched my life because of them over the years, some I’ve fallen out of touch with and some I hung out with just this month. They—and, by extension, Liam—have made me wealthy in friendship.

Claudia, Ingrid, Mery; Thank you for putting up with my insanely specific demands and making headers for me. Ingrid, you’ve been so patient about teaching me how to gif. Mery, I still have your rec list for learning Spanish saved in my notes app. The TPWK print you gifted me hangs on my wall. Cloudy, do you remember that lineart you made of me? I still have it. You’ve all been so kind to me.

Rafa; You have no idea how much you’ve helped build my confidence as a writer. Lyab is a thing of the past now, but those hours you spent fleshing out the details of that fic are priceless to me. I’d never written anything so ambitious before. And, frankly, I don’t think I would’ve attempted a novel if I hadn’t written a 100k fic—which I couldn’t have done without your encouragement. I think this is my first time telling you I finished the first draft of my novel in September. Thank you <3

Yas; Beloved you are so dear to me. You have shown me such kindness over the years, at times I wondered what I had done to deserve it. Not many people check in with me the way you do. I value your presence in my life beyond words. You have so much love and affection to give, and I’m glad I get to receive so much of it.

If I wrote a personal note to everyone who’s in my life because of Liam we’d be here for hours and hours. Jess, Bella, Alex, Jack, Hayley, Hope, Soni, Kayla, Sara, Arsh, Tina, Ola, Cristal, Kylee, Hana, Ali, Antonise, Clare, Abby, Nina, fnh, mert, people I don’t follow anymore, everyone who’s come into my life because of liam—I love you. Literally every single person I follow should be named here because I wouldn’t even be on this website if it weren’t for 1d. You’re all so special to me.

I still can’t believe Liam is gone. I was at the grocery store and it hit me that it’s real, and I thought, no, there’s no way. It feels so fucking weird having this invisible hole in my life that’s never going to go away. But I’ll always be grateful for everything Liam brought into my life. I know I’ll grow old with a whole bunch of you in my life—I’ve already spent a decade with some of you in my life—and I wish Liam got to grow old and weathered with us all.

This is such an inadequate goodbye. I think I’ll keep coming up with things I wish I could tell Liam, or things I want to say to you all. There’s so much history here, so much to reminisce about. He took a piece of my adolescence with him. I’ll miss him forever. Too many of my memories are intertwined with him and I’ll miss him forever.

Sleep easy, Liam. I hope, in time, you’re remembered for your limitless capacity for love and your desire to do better, be better. You deserved more. 🤍

—————

tagging 1d people here because i know many blogs aren’t active on a regular basis. apologies if i missed someone (i’m sure i did). hugs for everyone

@1dclowns @hrrytomlinson @sandiazucar @fookinfreezin @hoeranghae @wlwmermald @tomlinsun @epubgf @heyangel @fireproofs @90sgrungelouis @lirry @iconichalo @itsnotreal @aquickstart @roguecurls @harryscuddles @hoteyelinerguy @babyy-honey @goldencereza @kindathoughtprovoking @kindofsharethat @fuchsiasea @queerbloodyangel @tofiveohfive @aboutmetamorphosis @wastelandbabyblue @delicatepointofview @twentybiqueen @girlcrushau @chaoticsue @chimnation @akasakasads @icouldbeluckyagain @alloutshirt @half-lightl @halohamilton @willowfey @meltedwings @softandslow @loustyles @onedirectiom @pop-punklouis @pridesobright @finexbright @femstyles @baawree @iamnathanscott @avocadolouie @userautumn @niallerer @itsnothesameasitwas @usignedupforthis @svpportive @svncourt

[lizzieolseniskinda]

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 6

SDE MASTERLIST - FEM!reader (POC!reader)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 4846

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: talks about blood & nightmares (nothing too graphic!)soulmate & time travel au, English is not my first language

NOT proofread

to be added to taglist

As you slipped into your sleep, you found yourself wandering through memories—familiar, cherished memories—it all came flooding back, slipping into your mind like whispers and playing before your eyes like a movie. It was a bright, golden afternoon by the Black Lake at Hogwarts. You could see Ron, Harry and Hermione.

They were sitting on the grass on a picnic blanket you’d brought, laughing over something Ron had said, his face red with barely-contained laughter. Hermione was reading out loud from a book, clearly exasperated but smiling, and Harry was watching them both with that look. A look that he always had when he was at ease, a rare smile.

Harry’s glasses are slipping down his nose as he squints against the sun, his hair as messy as ever. Ron stretched out lazily, one arm propped behind his head as he reaches for a pumpkin pasty with the other.

“It’s so good to see you,” you say softly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. You felt a pang of longing, realizing how much you miss this easy, familiar closeness.

“Oh, you’re stuck with us, don’t worry,” Harry says with a grin, his green eyes bright and reassuring. “We’d never leave you.”

“Absolutely,” Hermione adds, nodding earnestly and closing the book on her lap. “Besides, who else would help us figure out all these mysteries? You’re as much a part of this as we are.”

Ron chuckles, taking a big bite of his pasty. “Not to mention, someone has to be there to keep you two from overthinking everything. Imagine the chaos if it was just the three of us.”

You laugh, feeling a warmth in your chest.

“You know,” you say, glancing at the lake where the water shimmers in the sunlight, “I wish we could stay like this forever. Just… having a picnic, no worries about anything else.”

Hermione reaches over and gives your hand a squeeze. “We’re here, whenever you need us. Even when things get difficult, remember that.”

Harry nods, his expression softening. “Don’t let anything make you doubt that. We’re always with you.”

You felt a rush of warmth and nostalgia hit you, drawn into the comfort of those days you had spent with your friends. You could hear their voices as clear as day. Their laughter mingling with the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle breeze. It felt safe, like nothing could touch or hurt any of you, like the years hadn’t drawn you apart.

But as the warmth of the dream lingers, something shifts. Colours started to fade, darkening the sky. The warmth of the sky dissipating into a cold shadow. The laughter thinned into silence, Hermione’s face contorting in worry as she looked toward the darkening horizon. You reached for your wand, only to find nothing. You looked up towards your friends.

One by one, they started to fade—Ron’s freckles dimming into the darkness, Hermione’s eyes lost the fear as her face became indistinct, until only Harry remains. He’s staring at you, dead in your eyes, his expression haunted, as though he knows something you don’t.

The familiar faces of your friends became twisted, their eyes wide and hollow, black, staring past you, as if you weren’t even there.

“You've never been alone in this.”

You turned your head towards the sound of Harry’s voice from behind you. Suddenly, you’re no longer sitting on the grass. The world around you seemed to shift and distort, like the walls of reality were bending in on themselves.

Instead, found yourself in the Great Hall, but it’s ruined, twisted. Broken. There’s rubble everywhere, and you’re alone with a figure moving slowly through the debris. You look down to find your wand in hand, trembling, but no matter how hard you try to call put, no sound leaves your lips.

The figure points behind you and unwillingly your head turns with the hand, behind you could see them, all of them, your friends—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and the twins. They were standing at a distance, eyes empty and staring straight through you. They look lost, hollow, shadows of who they once were.

A faint dripping sound pulls your attention away from their faces. You glance down and notice a small puddle of blood pooling at Hermione’s feet. Your gaze shifts up to her arm, slick with blood, where something is scrawled in crimson against her arm.

Tears formed in your eyes and you looked away, towards Harry, the hollow in his eyes having a faint green look in his eyes. As soon as you noticed it, it left.

You tried to move toward them, but your feet felt glued to the spot. A wave of helplessness surged through you. The only thing you could do watch as figured emerged from the darkness, out of the walls—hooded, faceless shadows  that closed in around your friends. 

Distant screams echoing as they were dragged away, lost in the darkness.

Your heart pounds painfully, the sense of helplessness crushing you. A chill crawls down your spine, the cold seeping deep into your bones. Your breaths grow shallow, the weight of guilt pressing down like a heavy stone.

And then, in the depth of the moment, the figure approached you—a pair of cold, dark brown, calculating eyes fixed on you, a face shrouded in darkness but recognisable everywhere. Tom.

He’s looking at you, a small, chilling smile playing at his lips. His voice echoes, low and taunting. “They’re all gone because of you,” he said, voice soft yet sharp. “Because you couldn’t change a thing.”

Your breath hitches, and you stagger, trying to escape, to wake up, but his face looms even closer. His presence filled the void with even more darkness, casting shadows that seemed to cling to your skin, creeping up your spine like ice.

“Why are you even here?” his voice echoed, smooth and unfeeling, carrying a weight that felt like judgment. “Do you really think you can change anything?”

You woke up with a start, heart racing and gasping for air, the cold sweat clinging to your skin as the remnants of the nightmare cling to your mind. You sit up, images of twisted faces and dark shadows still burning behind your eyelids.

You sat up, wiping at your face with shaky hands, only to realise they were wet—tears had already started to flow, now completely blurring your vision. You wiped them away with a shaky hand, but they just kept coming, as though all the fear, all the frustration, all the loneliness you’d been bottling up had burst free. 

Looking around the empty dorm room, you realized it was Sunday morning. Your roommates had already left for breakfast, leaving you in a silent room that suddenly felt too big, too cold.

With your chest tightening, you stumbled out of bed, grabbing a sweater and tugging it on over your head, fingers fumbling with the sleeves. You barely took the time to slip on shoes, leaving them unlaced as you hurried out of the dormitory. Your hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and the cold, early-morning stone floors of the castle did little to calm you as you rushed through the corridors, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

Your breath came in shallow gasps as you navigated the winding halls, your mind locked on one single thought: Dumbledore. He had to send you back. you couldn’t take it anymore. 

It wasn’t long before you reached the familiar stretch of hall leading to professor Dumbledore’s office. 

The portraits along the walls watched you as you rushed past, whispering among themselves. You climbed staircase after staircase, fueled by a mixture of fear and anger, until finally you stood in front of the stone gargoyle guarding dumbledore’s office.

“Let me in,” you whispered hoarsely, still crying, your voice cracking. When the gargoyle didn’t move, you let out a strangled yell, slamming your fists against the cold stone. “Let me in! Please!”

As if in response to your desperation, the stone gargoyle slowly shifted aside, revealing the spiral staircase. You scrambled up, each step feeling like it took forever, until finally you burst into his office. He stood up behind his desk, calmly looking over a stack of papers, but he looked up immediately when you stormed in, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he said gently, closing the door behind you. “What brings you here so early?”

“Professor,” you choked out, standing in the middle of the room, your body trembling as the flood of emotions poured out, “Send me back. Please, send me back. I don’t want to be here anymore, I… I can’t do this.”

You swallowed, the words coming out in a shaky rush. “I can’t… I can’t stay here. I want to go back. please, I need to go back to my time. I miss my friends, my parents… everyone. i can’t do—” 

The weight of everything came crashing down as you spoke, your voice trembling. “Please, professor, I don’t belong here… I want to go home.” your voice broke, and a sob escaped you. You covered your mouth with one hand, the tears coming faster now, blurring your vision completely.

Dumbledore’s eyes were full of understanding as he stepped closer, guiding you gently to a chair. “Take a seat, my dear,” he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring. “I know this must feel unbearably difficult.”

“No, you don’t understand!” you interrupted, your voice coming out in a broken yell. “I don’t want to sit down! I want to go back!”

“I don’t belong here! every day, every second I’m here, it feels like… like i’m suffocating. I miss my friends, I miss my family, and I can’t…just pretend everything is okay. It’s not fair! You brought me here, and now I’m stuck. I never even had a choice!”

Tears were streaming freely down your face, your fists clenched so tightly your nails dug into your palms. Dumbledore took a step toward you, but you took a step back, shaking your head.

You sank into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself as you tried to catch your breath, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “It’s too much,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I feel so alone… everything here is different, and I don’t know how long I can pretend I’m alright with it.”

He took a seat beside you, his expression pained but kind. “Your feelings are entirely valid, and your courage to speak up about them is admirable.” he paused, studying your tear-streaked face with that same intense, searching look he often wore. “Being out of one’s own time is a very heavy burden to bear. You have been given a task that no one should be asked to bear alone.”

“Don’t tell me to be brave, don’t tell me this is for some greater purpose!” you shouted, voice breaking. “I don’t care about the greater purpose! I want to go home! I don’t want to be here, living in constant fear, watching every move I make. you don’t understand what it’s like!” 

Your sobs overtook you, racking your whole body as you sank deeper into the chair, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself from falling apart. “I miss them so much. Please… please, just send me back.”

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment, watching you with a sadness that only deepened the ache in your chest.

“If I could, child, I would,” he said softly, his voice filled with an unfamiliar heaviness. “But, you know why you’re here. There are things that must be done, paths that must be taken.”

“I do not say this lightly, and I do not expect you to forgive me for the burden I have placed on you. but the future depends on it.”

“I don’t care about the future right now!” you yelled, the anger burning bright through the fear and pain. “I care about now! I care about my life and my friends and my family.”

“Why should I have to give all that up? I didn’t ask for any of this! I lost my life—freedom for you!”

Dumbledore nodded slowly, as if weighing each of your words. “Sometimes, life asks of us sacrifices we would never choose,” he said quietly. “I am deeply sorry for that. But know this—you are not alone, and you do have the strength to face what lies ahead.”

He stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “And strength, my dear, does not mean the absence of pain or fear. Strength is simply the willingness to keep moving forward, even when it feels impossible.”

You stared at the floor, the weight of his words pressing down on you. A part of you wanted to believe him, but another part just felt… tired. bone-deep tired.

“I don’t even know if I-I’m doing it right,” you managed to whisper, your fingers gripping the edge of your sweater tightly. “What if… what if nothing changes? What if Harry still… still dies?” 

“I understand your fears,” he said softly, “But I am here to help guide you. And while I cannot give you a clear answer about the future, I can tell you that your presence here has already changed things, even if it may not be obvious.”

You wanted to believe him, but the doubts gnawed at you. “I feel like I’m losing myself, professor. every day, it feels harder to remember who I am, or who I used to be.”

“Your identity is not lost, even if you feel disconnected from it,” he replied, his voice warm and steady. “It is within you, no matter what time you find yourself in.”

You looked down, sniffling, trying to draw strength from his words. “It’s just… Everyone feels so far away.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes soft with compassion. “You are allowed to feel this way. It is human, after all, to yearn for those we love.”

After a few moments of silence, he added, “If you truly wish to return, I can explore the possibility of sending you back to your time. However, I would ask you to take a little time to think it over first. Sometimes, in the midst of hardship, we cannot see the strength that lies within us until the storm has passed.”

You took a shaky breath, nodding, though the ache in your heart still lingered.

He offered you a reassuring smile. “Whenever you need to speak, my door is always open.”

The gentle waves of the black lake lapped at the shore, the water shimmering under the soft morning light. You sat by the edge, hugging your knees to your chest, staring out across the lake as memories of Harry, hermione, and Ron surfaced, vivid and sharp. The ache in your chest felt endless, like a hollow, sinking weight that refused to leave. 

The spot felt haunted now, a cruel reminder of everything you’d left behind—the laughter, the closeness, the feeling of home that was slipping further from your reach with each passing day. You felt yourself fraying at the edges, unraveling beneath the surface of your forced smiles and brave face.

You barely registered the sound of footsteps approaching until someone sat down beside you. Turning your head, you found Lucas, his usual easygoing grin replaced by a look of gentle concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging you with his elbow. “you look like you've got the weight of the entire library on your shoulders. what's going on?”

You tried to respond, to tell him it was nothing, but the words caught in your throat. The mere kindness in his voice, the familiarity of it, broke something in you. All at once, the tears started to flow, again, hot and unstoppable, and you buried your face in your hands.

Lucas’s arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close. He didn’t say anything, didn’t press you for answers. He just held you there, letting you sob against him, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “Cry all you need to. I’ll even throw in a free shoulder to soak.”

You let out a choked laugh through the tears, but the laughter quickly turned back into sobs. You clutched onto him tightly, as if he could anchor you back from the overwhelming tide of pain and loneliness that threatened to swallow you whole.

“I… I’m sorry, I’m a mess today.,” you managed to say between sobs, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I miss my friends so much, Lucas.”

He nodded, squeezing you gently. “I know, I know. That’s got to be the hardest part of all this—being here, away from everyone. But you’re not alone, okay? i’m right here, and i’ll stay here as long as you need me to.”

“Besides, we can always send them letters, they’re only in France.”

You stayed there, clutching onto his warmth, letting his words settle over you like a balm. ‘Only in France’

You swallowed fresh tears. 

After a few moments, he leaned his head closer, his voice soft but with a familiar mischievous edge. “Besides, who else would put up with me if you weren’t here?”

You sniffled, managing a small, wobbly smile. “Probably, like, everyone. you’re everyone’s favorite flirt, Lucas.”

He grinned, and there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, that’s true. But nobody gets my best material like you do. I save all the good jokes just for you, y’know?”

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, insults aside, at least I got you to laugh. My work here is almost done.”

You smiled a little, feeling a bit of the heaviness lift, if only for a moment. Lucas’ arm stayed around your shoulders, solid and steady, like a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

“You’ve got a lot on your shoulders,” he said, his voice turning gentle again. “And I know it feels impossible, but you’re stronger than you think, Y/n. and I’ll be here every step of the way, even if you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”

You let out a long, shaky breath, feeling the warmth of his reassurance settle over you. It wasn’t home, it wasn’t Harry, Hermione, or Ron, but Lucas was here, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. And for now, it was enough.

“Thank you, Lucas,” you whispered, your voice thick with gratitude. 

He gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. I mean it. Anytime you need a shoulder to cry on, or someone to charm the socks off the Slytherins just for fun, I’m your guy.”

You laughed again, and this time, it felt genuine. Lucas gave you a smile that was soft and warm, and as you sat by the lake together, you felt, for the first time in a long time, that you might be able to make it through this—one small step at a time.

Lucas nudged you with his shoulder as he reached for a bowl of mashed potatoes. “Alright, Y/n, here’s a question: if you could switch places with anyone in the entire wizarding world right now, who would it be?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. “Easy—someone on holiday. preferably somewhere sunny.”

Alicia laughed, tossing a piece of bread at you. “That’s cheating! I thought you’d say someone exciting, like an auror or the minister of magic.”

“Can’t blame her,” Lilith chimed in, grinning. 

“A tropical holiday sounds pretty thrilling after being stuck in potions all morning.” Maeve nodded her head, agreeing.

“You’ve got a point,” Lucas said thoughtfully, grinning at you. “Although, if I could switch with anyone, I’d probably pick Slughorn. Imagine all the secrets he must know, all those weird stories about famous people.”

“And you’d get to throw endless parties for yourself,” Lilith pointed out, a rare smile tugging at her lips. 

Maeve smiled, “it would be the ultimate ego trip.”

Everyone laughed, and Lucas shrugged, clearly not bothered. “Hey, the guy knows how to live. He’s probably got more gossip than all of us combined. Speaking of parties,” he added, raising an eyebrow at you, “Ready for the slug club soirée, miss Riddle’s date?”

You groaned, feeling your cheeks warm as the others turned to look at you with intrigued expressions.

“I still can’t believe he just… declared you his date and walked off,” Alicia said, shaking her head in disbelief. “You didn’t get a single word in?”

“Not one,” you admitted, laughing. “He just looked at me with that infuriatingly smug expression and then left.”

Lucas leaned in, smirking. “And you, Y/n, are seriously going along with it?”

“Well,” you said, rolling your eyes, “I mean, he’s kinda… hot.”

“So… yes, I guess I am.”

Alicia nearly choked on her pumpkin juice, eyes widening. “Hot? He’s terrifying, Y/n! Have you seen the way he just stares at people? It’s like he’s plotting their downfall.”

“Yeah,” Maeve added, shooting you a half-amused, half-bewildered look, “But I get it… he’s got that whole brooding dark lord-in-the-making vibe. Still, I wouldn’t want to be within hexing range.”

You couldn’t help but laugh uneasy, brushing off their reactions. 

Lilith shoved some cauliflower onto her plate, “Oh, come on, sure, he’s intense, but there’s something about him that’s… intriguing.”

Lucas, however, looked horrified. He leaned back, crossing his arms dramatically. “intriguing? No, no, Lili, intriguing is a new flavor of bertie bott’s beans or a strange ingredient in potions. Not Tom Riddle.”

Maeve nodded absentmindedly, “He does look like a good snack.”

Lucas gaped, “Sorry, what is wrong with you?”

Maeve shrugged her shoulders, “Don’t act as if you wouldn’t like a little nibble from him, even though you’re like—into girls and stuff.”

You straightened up, feeling Lucas tense beside you. So, you were the first person to know. Alicia also having noticed this, she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, lighten up, Lucas,” Alicia teased, nudging him. “I think we’re all just a little scared that she’s going to show up to the party in some hypnotic trance, spellbound by his ‘intensity.’”

Lucas rolled his eyes, pretending to be unimpressed, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Fine, if that’s what you want. But personally, I think he’s the human embodiment of a dark cloud, and I’d rather not be around for the thunderstorm.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” you replied with a grin. “It’s just one night. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lucas gave you a long, exasperated look but then sighed, shaking his head with a reluctant smile. “I feel like you’ve just jinxed us."

“But, if it makes you happy, I suppose… but just remember, if he starts getting that ‘plotting world domination’ look, I’ll be there with a rescue plan.” 

You grinned, giving him a playful nudge. “I’ll keep an eye out for his ‘dark cloud’ side.”

Maeve leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “And what are you wearing?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Lucas said proudly before you could respond. “We’re matching.”

The entire group burst into a chorus of excited gasps and laughter, peppering you with questions. Lilith just nodded approvingly.

“Trust Lucas to make sure you two are the best-dressed at the party,” she said, a hint of admiration in her tone.

“Hey, if she’s going to suffer through a night with Riddle, the least I can do is make sure she looks fantastic,” Lucas said, grinning. “We’re talking silk, elegance, mystery—the works.”

“I don’t know about suffering,” you said, shrugging, though a part of you felt slightly on edge about the party. Tom Riddle’s attention still felt unsettling, but you didn’t want to think about that now.

“Oh, come on, I bet he’s actually a terrible dancer,” Maeve said with a wink. “you might have to lead.”

“That would be hilarious,” Alicia added, snickering. “Just don’t let him step on your toes.”

Lucas laughed. “If he does, you have my permission to hex him right there in front of everyone.”

You couldn’t help but smile, comforted by the light-hearted teasing. As you looked around the table, a warmth settled over you, the tension from this morning melting away.

“If anything, I know you’ll be having a great time, Lucas,” you said, nudging him.

You stood up from the table, giving Lucas and the others a quick wave as you grabbed your bag. “I’m going to the library to study with Ben,” you said, smiling weakly. “I’ll see you later.”

Lucas shot you a mock-salute, his expression playfully suspicious as if to say,  ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ You grinned and waved him off, heading down the hall with the familiar comfort of your new friends’ laughter fading behind you.

The corridors were quiet, the muffled hum of the Great Hall lingering in the background as you made your way toward the library. You had only made it a few steps when, from the corner of your eye, you noticed someone falling into stride beside you. It was Tom.

He moved silently, his steps measured and smooth, his hands tucked into his robe pockets. You hadn’t even heard him approach, yet here he was, looking as composed and unreadable as ever. You tried not to tense, but the memory of his last intense gaze lingered. 

You didn’t look at him but raised an eyebrow anyway.

“You’re walking alone,” his voice came from just next to you, and you could almost feel his gaze on the side of your face. “I thought I might walk with you.”

“Y/n,” he said, voice calm but direct, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

You hummed in reply, wondering where this conversation was going to lead you this time.

 “I saw you by the Black Lake earlier.”

You kept your gaze forward, unsure where this was going. “…And?”

His tone was quieter than usual, though still carefully controlled. “You were …crying.”

The words struck you, not because they were untrue, but because you hadn’t realized anyone had seen. You felt your cheeks warm slightly, defensive instinct kicking in.

“Why do you care?” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “It’s hardly any of your business, Riddle.”

He looked at you, brow raised slightly. “It’s not,” he admitted. “But I’m asking.”

You glanced at him, his face composed but his eyes watchful, curious in a way that felt genuine, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything about him was calculated. Even so, he had a strange intensity about him that made it hard to dismiss him completely.

You stiffened, your fingers tightening around your bag strap. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, your gaze fixed ahead. “It was nothing.”

“Nothing,” he repeated, almost sounding amused. “You’re lying.”

“If you must know, it’s because… I had a difficult time, with….something,” you kept your words vague, unwilling to open up fully but feeling oddly compelled to say something.

“Difficult?” Tom echoed, his voice betraying the faintest hint of curiosity. “You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself. What could possibly make you—” he paused, almost as if the word felt foreign to him, “—upset?”

You shrugged, keeping your tone guarded. “Being capable doesn’t make someone immune to, well… feeling lost, different? I don’t know. It’s not like everyone here is exactly friendly.”

He nodded, considering your words in silence as you turned the final corner toward the library. “You sound like a Hufflepuff.”

After a beat, he spoke again, his voice almost softer. “Perhaps.”

“It is just very odd to imagine someone like you feeling out of place.” He paused, his expression unreadable. “I wonder why that is.”

Something in his voice made you feel exposed, as though he was peeling back layers you hadn’t even known were there. You were confused how he spoke so, elegantly for someone so rough.

You looked away, shrugging. “Maybe because I’m just a girl, at the end of the day.”

You caught a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of interest in his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said slowly. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “I understand that feeling, you know. Not fitting in. It’s a powerful motivator.”

The words lingered between you, unspoken layers hidden in their simplicity, and before you could form a response, he glanced down the hallway.

“We’re nearly there,” he said, his tone shifting back to its usual detached calm. “Don’t forget, by the way—Slug Club party. You’re still my date.”

He gave you one last look, his eyes gleaming with an enigmatic intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Then, with the same silent precision, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone outside the library, a strange sense of unsettledness trailing in his wake.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something—some subtle, quiet thing—had shifted between the two of you because of that little conversation. And you weren’t sure whether it was unsettling or… strangely comforting. But you could feel it in your stomach.

A/N: sorry for late postinggg, hope you enjoyed it though!! also, I'm having problems with tagging, so i apologize if your tag didn't work :(

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[faebled-stories]

Three's a Thrill

Kinkvember Day 6: Threesome

Dreamcatcher Kim Yoohyeon x Kim JiU (Minji) x Female reader/OC

(Reader has some body modification for plot purposes)

AN: A little late on this one, classes have been kicking my butt.

“I bet they’re a writer or something,” JiU mused, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Or maybe a chef,” you countered with a grin. “Someone who’ll invite us over for tastings.”

JiU laughed, the sound light and familiar. “Oh wow, could you imagine? Think of all the food we’d get to try.”

With that, you both made your way up the path to the new neighbor’s house, footsteps echoing lightly against the quiet surroundings. The house next door had been empty for months, and the curiosity had been building between you two. JiU’s excitement was clear as she climbed the front steps, flashing her trademark smile. With a firm knock, she announced your arrival.

The door swung open to reveal a young woman with shoulder-length hair, dark eyes and a welcoming smile that instantly put you at ease.

“Hello! A fresh face in the neighborhood. Welcome” JiU greeted warmly, extending her hand.

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she shook JiU’s hand. “Hi, I'm Yoohyeon. It’s so nice to meet you both—I’ve been hoping to connect with my neighbors.”

JiU stepped back slightly, gesturing toward you. “I’m Kim Minji, but you can call me JiU, and this is my lovely wife.” Her smile softened as she brushed her hand over your shoulder in an affectionate, natural gesture that made your bond clear. Feeling a bit shy but warmed by the gesture, you extended a hand to greet Yoohyeon.

Yoohyeon’s eyes flickered with surprise before softening. In the conservative country they lived in, it was rare for same sex couples to introduce themselves so openly. She admired the quiet confidence you both shared, comforted by how natural your expressions of love felt. Smiling back, she felt an unexpected sense of kinship.

“It’s really nice to meet you both,” Yoohyeon said sincerely, excitement lacing her tone. “I just moved in and am still finding my way around, but it already feels more like home knowing I have such friendly neighbors.”

JiU chuckled and glanced at you with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, we’ve definitely been in your shoes. The first week we moved here, I couldn’t even remember which bus line went where,” she laughed. “So, how’s settling in going?”

Yoohyeon looked around her cozy entryway, decorated in a warm, minimalist style. “It’s been… a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. I’m actually an English teacher, so between commuting, learning where everything is, and getting the house in order, I’m still finding my rhythm.”

“Oh, an English teacher! That’s wonderful,” you said warmly, your interest clear in your voice. “Moving can feel overwhelming at first, but if you need anything—a ride, directions, or even a café recommendation—we’re just next door.”

“Thank you so much! That’s really kind of you,” Yoohyeon replied, visibly relieved. “I’d love to know more about the neighborhood. Any local gems?”

“Oh, plenty!” JiU’s smile widened. “There’s an amazing bakery just around the corner. Their strawberry mochi is to die for, they always sell out early. And there’s also a café a few blocks down called Insomnia Café that makes the best iced caramel lattes in town.”

“Those sound incredible; I can’t wait to try them out,” Yoohyeon said, mentally noting the recommendations. Then, with a curious look, she asked, “And you two? What do you do for work?”

JiU exchanged an amused look with you, a hint of mystery in her eyes. “Oh, we mostly work from home,” she said with a slight, knowing smile that felt almost deliberate.

You added with a playful glimmer, “It gives us a lot of freedom to travel and enjoy life—a definite perk,” leaving Yoohyeon to wonder if there was more to your work than met the eye.

“That sounds amazing,” Yoohyeon replied, intrigued but not wanting to press. She sensed a layer of mystery between you two, but also a warmth—a quiet, unspoken connection that drew her in, as though she’d found friends as unique as they were welcoming.

The conversation continued, covering everything from the best local grocery stores to the quirks of the nearby subway lines. JiU’s stories were punctuated with laughter, and though you were quieter, you leaned in occasionally with thoughtful comments and small, knowing glances that spoke volumes. The closeness between you two was undeniable—a shared understanding that filled the air with ease.

After a while, JiU glanced at you and gave a slight nod. “Well, we’ll leave you to get settled,” she said warmly. “We just wanted to stop by to say hello and welcome you. Don’t hesitate to come by if you need anything or just want to chat.”

As you and JiU turned to leave, Yoohyeon found herself smiling, a flutter of excitement settling in her chest. Watching you both walk away, she couldn’t shake the thrill of having such warm, intriguing people right next door. She felt a spark—maybe this move would bring more than she’d initially expected.

-----

One late evening, Yoohyeon stood by her bedroom window, drawn to the quiet charm of the night. The neighborhood lay still, each house settled into its evening calm, with only the occasional faint glow of a light here or there. She often enjoyed these solitary moments, gazing out at the world beyond her window and letting her mind wander.

Tonight, her gaze drifted almost involuntarily toward JiU and your home, the upstairs bedroom window just visible from where she stood. Yoohyeon’s eyes narrowed as she noticed movement in the soft, dim light seeping through the curtains. Curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t help but look closer. She could make out the silhouettes of JiU and you, laughing together, leaning against the wall, faces flushed as you playfully nudged each other.

As her eyes adjusted to the faint light, the details became clearer: JiU, with her tousled hair falling loose, dressed in a simple sports bra and shorts, while you wore a fitted tank top and briefs. A light sheen on your skin hinted that you’d both been dancing or wrestling playfully. The sight was so candid, so deeply intimate, that Yoohyeon felt like an unintentional intruder. She should have looked away, yet something about the relaxed, unguarded way you shared this private moment kept her eyes fixed.

JiU’s arm slipped around your waist, faces close enough to be nearly nose-to-nose, both of you laughing softly, as though sharing a secret. There was something mesmerizing about the ease between you two, a mutual warmth that Yoohyeon could almost feel across the distance. A blush crept up her cheeks, her heartbeat quickening in response to the scene unfolding before her.

Realizing her gaze had lingered too long, Yoohyeon tore her eyes away, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else—a faint stirring in her core that surprised her. She had known JiU and you as the friendly, slightly mysterious couple next door, but tonight, witnessing this side of you stirred something unfamiliar, something undeniably thrilling within her.

She took a deep breath and sank onto her bed, willing herself to forget what she had just seen. Determined to shake the image from her mind, she picked up her phone and scrolled through social media, hoping to distract herself with harmless videos and updates. But her mind kept wandering back to the way you’d looked at each other, the comfortable closeness, and the undeniable spark between you.

Frustrated, Yoohyeon switched apps, almost without realizing it, and found herself on an adult site. She felt a bit silly, yet the warmth that had built inside her urged her to seek some release. As she scrolled through thumbnails, nothing seemed to capture the raw, genuine intimacy she’d just witnessed between you and JiU. Every other video felt strangely hollow by comparison.

Just as she was about to put her phone away, a particular thumbnail caught her eye. The resemblance to you and JiU was uncanny—the same dark hair, the same air of easy intimacy she’d glimpsed from her window. A forbidden thrill stirred within her as she hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen before she tapped “play,” her heart racing as the video loaded.

Through her headphones, JiU’s voice murmured gently, as if meant just for her. “Are you ready?” she asked, her tone full of warmth and teasing care. Yoohyeon’s heart fluttered as the image on-screen filled her mind.

Then, as her gaze drifted over your figure on the screen, her heart suddenly skipped a beat. A flash of metal caught her eye—a nipple piercing, gleaming softly against your skin. Yoohyeon’s pulse raced. She’d had no idea you had such a bold, hidden side. There had never been a hint of body art or piercings in your everyday appearance, and this quiet, thrilling detail felt like a secret unveiled.

Her breath caught, surprise mingling with fascination. Body modifications had always intrigued her, and this little discovery seemed to reveal something new about you—a quiet strength, a hidden edge, something both beautiful and daring.

Yoohyeon’s pulse quickened, her body tingling with anticipation as her hand slipped between her legs, moving in sync with JiU’s careful touch on the screen. JiU’s hands traced slow, tantalizing circles over your skin, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The rhythm was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, and Yoohyeon found herself mirroring the pace, her breaths shallow as she matched JiU’s gentle, precise touches.

Her senses drifted, pulled deeper into the intimacy unfolding before her. JiU’s sultry voice seemed to reach through the screen, drawing Yoohyeon closer. Each whispered word and soft caress felt like an invitation, coaxing her further into your shared world. As the camera lingered on your face, lips parted with a soft, breathless sigh, Yoohyeon felt herself lost in the vulnerability of the moment, each delicate sound heightening her own arousal.

Her gaze flickered between you and JiU, her fingers moving faster as the tension within her grew. The way your body responded—the subtle tremble, eyes fluttering shut as JiU held you on the edge—felt almost sacred, an intimacy that sent shivers through her. Yoohyeon bit her lip, her breaths quickening as her release approached, caught up in the magnetic pull of your connection.

Finally, as JiU brought you to climax, Yoohyeon heard her gentle voice again, murmuring, “Are you close, baby?… Yes, you can cum. Cum for me, my sweetie.” Yoohyeon’s body surged with her own release, her fingers pressing down as a stifled moan escaped her lips, waves of pleasure flooding over her. She lay there for a moment, head spinning, still basking in the lingering warmth. It felt surreal, as if she’d shared in something intimate with you—an unexpected closeness that stayed with her, even after the video faded to black.

In the days that followed, Yoohyeon found herself drawn back to JiU and your videos, watching with a growing intensity. She became captivated by the smallest gestures between you—the way JiU’s hand lingered on your cheek, or the soft laugh you’d give in response to her teasing. The catalog of videos became her private indulgence, something she turned to each evening, a ritual that filled the quiet spaces in her life.

Yet, the more she watched, a subtle ache grew within her—a yearning she couldn’t quite put into words. She’d watch each video, hoping to make sense of her feelings, but it only left her wanting more. This wasn’t just attraction; it was a craving for the deep bond she witnessed, a connection that seemed almost unattainable. And as she realized this, a creeping guilt began to take hold.

What am I even doing? she’d mutter to herself, torn between the comfort she found in the videos and the nagging feeling that she’d crossed an invisible line. They’d posted these videos for people to see, she reasoned; it’s not as if I’m invading their privacy. But the rationalization felt thin, a flimsy excuse for the thrill she felt in watching.

They wanted people to see this, right? she’d tell herself, trying to believe it; otherwise, why share something so intimate? But the sense of trespass lingered. She knew she should stop, that she needed to let this go. And yet, the pull of your bond, and the warmth it brought her, was something she wasn’t sure she could resist.

Outside of these moments, her days began to feel increasingly hollow. Work felt tedious, gatherings with friends left her restless, as if nothing could break the hold you and JiU had on her mind. And the more she tried to ignore the videos, the emptier she felt, like a crucial part of herself was missing.

When Yoohyeon returned home one day, the emptiness she’d tried to ignore settled back over her. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t return to those videos, yet her mind drifted, thinking of the warmth and passion she’d witnessed through her screen. She tried to distract herself, scrolling through social media and tidying her apartment, but her thoughts always circled back to you both.

Her routines had become dull, a monotonous hum against the vivid memories she replayed. Each night felt longer and lonelier, the quiet of her apartment amplifying the ache within her. And so, once again, she found herself at her bedroom window, gaze drifting toward your house, drawn to the only place that seemed to promise any relief.

Through the soft glow of your bedroom curtains, Yoohyeon could see your silhouettes, leaning close, bodies entwined in a quiet, intimate moment. Her heart skipped a beat, a thrill racing through her as she watched, her eyes fixed on your faces mere inches apart, bodies pressed together in a gentle embrace.

I shouldn’t be watching this, she told herself, but her body didn’t move. She rationalized that it was harmless, that it wasn’t wrong to watch from her own window. But part of her knew better. This was a private moment, and she was an uninvited guest. Yet the pull was magnetic, each glimpse deepening her curiosity, a live show she couldn’t resist.

Each night, Yoohyeon found herself back at the window, drawn into the private world you and JiU shared. Sometimes, you simply laughed over a glass of wine or leaned into each other, speaking softly. Other times, the moments were charged, your touches tender yet powerful, holding her in place as a silent witness to something she knew she couldn’t reach.

Over time, this ritual became a comfort, enough to carry her through her days. She tried to distract herself with work, with friends, but nothing compared to these glimpses. Eventually, the temptation grew stronger. She ordered a pair of compact binoculars, her heart racing as she unwrapped them. She knew it was wrong, that this was a step too far, but the thrill of watching, of catching each movement and expression, was irresistible. Through the lens, everything became vivid—every glance, each soft touch, every shared smile between you and JiU.

Deep down, she knew she’d crossed a line, but the quiet connection she felt each night kept her tethered to the window, watching, even as guilt lingered beneath her excitement.

-----

A few days later, while tending to the flowers in her front yard, Yoohyeon heard a soft clearing of the throat. Turning, she saw JiU leaning casually against the fence, a warm smile brightening her face.

“Hey, Yoohyeon,” JiU greeted, her gaze sweeping over the flowerbeds. “The flowers look beautiful. You’ve really brought some life to the neighborhood.” Her tone was light, yet the compliment carried an unexpected warmth.

“Oh, thanks!” Yoohyeon replied, brushing a petal with her fingers and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping JiU wouldn’t notice the blush rising in her cheeks.

JiU stepped a little closer, her presence filling the space between them. “Listen,” she began, voice warm and inviting, “Y/N and I were talking, and if you’re free tonight, maybe you’d like to come over for dinner? It’d be nice to have a proper evening together, just us neighbors.” Her gaze was intent, as if searching for something in Yoohyeon’s reaction.

Yoohyeon’s breath caught, her mind racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Oh—dinner? Sure, I’d love that,” she managed, her voice trembling slightly.

JiU’s smile deepened, her gaze softening as if reassured by Yoohyeon’s answer. “Perfect,” she replied, her voice a touch lower. “Come by around seven; we’ll keep it cozy.” She held Yoohyeon’s gaze a moment longer, leaving Yoohyeon’s heart fluttering in anticipation.

The hours before dinner seemed to stretch and then fly by. Yoohyeon agonized over what to wear, searching for something casual yet flattering. Nervous energy buzzed in her stomach as she made her way up your front steps. When she knocked, her heart pounded, and JiU answered almost instantly, her face lighting up.

“Come on in! You look lovely,” JiU said, her voice rich with warmth as she ushered Yoohyeon inside. A faint scent of spices filled the air, mingling with a subtle floral aroma that heightened Yoohyeon’s awareness of every detail.

You appeared from the kitchen with a tray of small appetizers, smiling as you waved. “Hey, Yoohyeon. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, setting the tray down with a gentle laugh that only added to the inviting ambiance.

JiU handed Yoohyeon a glass of water, their fingers brushing just briefly. The touch sent a spark through Yoohyeon, and she couldn’t help but think of the way she’d watched those fingers move through her binoculars—the gentle, sensual touch. She took a quick sip of water, hoping to cool the flush on her cheeks. Her gaze flickered around the cozy living room, catching the glow of candlelight casting soft shadows along the walls.

“So, Yoohyeon,” JiU’s voice broke through her thoughts, grounding her. “How’s work treating you? Settling in alright?” JiU’s question felt warm, an invitation for Yoohyeon to open up.

“Oh, yeah, it’s been good,” Yoohyeon replied, grateful for the shift in topic. “Teaching is always an adventure. The kids keep it interesting.” She laughed softly, feeling herself relax. “They’re unpredictable, but that’s part of what makes it so rewarding.”

JiU nodded thoughtfully. “Teaching must take a lot of patience. I admire that,” she said, a hint of humor in her tone. “I think I’d run out of it in ten minutes.”

You chuckled, nudging JiU. “You’d last five minutes. Tops.”

The three of you laughed, and conversation began to flow easily, each of you sharing stories from different corners of life. As JiU shared a story about getting hopelessly lost on the subway, laughter filled the room, each of you letting down your guard a little more.

At some point, JiU’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Do you have any tattoos, Yoohyeon?”

“Oh, yeah.” Yoohyeon smiled, lifting her shirt slightly to reveal a delicate script along her ribs. “It says ‘Liberté, with a small bird.”

“Liberté,” JiU murmured, leaning in to look. “That’s beautiful. It really suits you.” Her voice was low, almost intimate, and Yoohyeon felt a thrill in her chest. Emboldened, she asked, “Do you have any?”

JiU smiled, tugging her collar to reveal a dreamcatcher tattoo on her shoulder. “To remind me to hold onto what matters and let go of the rest.”

“It’s beautiful,” Yoohyeon said softly, unable to shake the image of tracing the tattoo with her fingers. She glanced over at you, curiosity sparking. “How about you?”

You chuckled, glancing at JiU with a playful roll of your eyes. “No tattoos here. Minji’s tried to convince me, but I don’t think I could handle the pain.”

“Oh, she’s terrified,” JiU teased, nudging you affectionately. “But I think she’d look great with one.” The words lingered, stirring an amused smile as Yoohyeon joined in the laughter, her own inhibitions slipping away.

In the warmth of the moment, Yoohyeon suddenly blurted out, “Honestly, a tattoo would hurt a lot less than your piercings.” Her hand gestured toward your chest, lingering just a second too long. Realizing the implication, her cheeks flushed deeply.

Your eyes widened, a blush spreading as you exchanged a look with JiU. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she turned back to Yoohyeon, eyes gleaming. She leaned forward, eyebrow raised.

“Oh? And how do you know about my wife’s piercings, Yoohyeon?” JiU’s voice was smooth, her words dripping with amusement, making Yoohyeon flush under her steady gaze.

Heat flooded Yoohyeon’s cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean to… I just… I, um…” she stammered, avoiding your gaze.

Beside her, you blushed, looking to JiU, finding comfort in her knowing smile.

JiU leaned closer to Yoohyeon, her tone softening. “So Yoohyeon, Do you like watching our videos” she murmured, tracing gentle circles on Yoohyeon’s arm, She was silent but nodded “Hmm If you want,you could be part of the real thing.” Her eyes held Yoohyeon’s, the invitation clear.

Yoohyeon looked at you, feeling the weight of the invitation. She hesitated, her gaze softening. “Are you… really okay with this?” she asked gently.

Meeting Yoohyeon’s gaze, you smiled softly, reassuring her. “I wouldn't be opposed”

JiU’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as her fingers brushed Yoohyeon’s arm. “So, what do you say?” she asked warmly. “Would you like to be part of our world?”

The room felt charged, each moment more intense. Yoohyeon took a breath, meeting JiU’s gaze with a smile.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, her voice soft, filled with both excitement and nerves.

As you make your way down the dim hallway, everything feels hushed and close, like the world’s gone quiet around the three of you. Yoohyeon walks between you and JiU, her hand clasped tightly in yours, her breathing just a bit quick, her fingers trembling slightly. JiU’s hand rests gently on her shoulder, steady and warm.

When you reach the bedroom, Yoohyeon pauses, taking a small step back, her gaze dropping to the floor. She presses her lips together, then glances up, her cheeks flushing as she searches for the right words. The room feels charged, anticipation thick, but she shifts slightly, looking uncertain.

“I… I didn’t plan for this,” she murmurs, voice low, almost to herself. She hesitates, crossing her arms as if shielding herself, a faint blush coloring her face. “I didn't, uh, exactly… prepare myself” Her eyes shift downward just below her stomach.

JiU steps in, her expression softening. She reaches out, gently tilting Yoohyeon’s chin so their eyes meet. “Yoohyeon,” she says quietly, her tone firm yet kind. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

The words settle into the silence, and Yoohyeon’s expression eases, a flicker of relief softening her eyes. She leans into JiU’s touch, her breath slowing as some of the tension leaves her. A shy smile lifts her lips, and she glances your way, as if looking for further reassurance.

You give her hand a small, comforting squeeze. “She’s right,” you murmur. “Also, I think its kind of sexy”

Yoohyeon’s face relaxes a little more, her shoulders dropping as she lets herself take a deeper breath. With a slight, tentative smile, she reaches down, fingers pausing for a moment before lifting her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stands there, a bit vulnerable but resolute, a blush warming her cheeks as she glances from you to JiU.

The soft light highlights the natural curves of her skin. She hesitates again, glancing at the slight patch of hair, a flicker of worry crossing her expression. But JiU steps closer, her hand brushing Yoohyeon’s arm in a quiet, reassuring gesture.

With a warm smile, JiU takes her in fully, her gaze steady. She reaches up to tuck a loose strand of Yoohyeon’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger a moment. “You’re beautiful, Yoohyeon,” she says simply.

Yoohyeon lets out a quiet breath, her face softening with a mixture of shyness and relief. She looks between you both, then nods slightly, giving a small, genuine smile. Her body language loosens as she steps in closer, her warmth blending with yours, each touch a quiet affirmation that she’s wanted, just as she is. The three of you stand there, a gentle understanding settling over you all as you hold each other close, a quiet connection shared in the stillness of the room.

A shaky breath escapes Yoohyeon as JiU’s gaze settles on her, warm but undeniably commanding. Yoohyeon’s longing is palpable, and JiU takes her time, letting that desire simmer. Slowly, she leans in, brushing her lips softly over Yoohyeon’s, the kiss beginning gentle before deepening into something more consuming, drawing Yoohyeon closer as her breath catches. JiU’s hand rests on her arm, a steady anchor, fingers pressing just enough to show intent. Each touch from JiU electrifies Yoohyeon, a perfect balance of reassurance and intensity that leaves her pliant, already breathless.

Watching beside them, you’re drawn into the unfolding moment, savoring Yoohyeon’s reaction under JiU’s skilled touch—the way her eyes flutter shut, how her breathing hitches with quiet anticipation. JiU’s gaze briefly meets yours, a spark of control evident, as if reminding you of your place in this shared space. It stirs something raw in you, a familiar exhilaration mixed with a quiet submission to JiU’s presence, though there’s a different energy between you and Yoohyeon.

With a small smile, you reach out, your hand settling warmly on Yoohyeon’s thigh, your touch gentle but grounding, a reminder that she’s here, with both of you. Yoohyeon’s gaze drifts to you, her eyes softened, seeking reassurance, and you respond by squeezing her thigh, letting her feel your steady support, balanced between JiU’s authoritative energy and your own firm but comforting presence.

JiU’s focus returns fully to Yoohyeon as she guides her toward the bed, easing her down onto the soft sheets with a deliberate tenderness. There’s a practiced confidence in JiU’s movements as she brushes Yoohyeon’s hair back from her face, letting her fingers trail along the line of her jaw before tracing down the delicate curve of her neck. She leans in, pressing her lips to Yoohyeon’s collarbone, lingering, savoring each soft gasp Yoohyeon lets out in response.

Beside them, you settle onto the bed, your hand moving slowly higher on Yoohyeon’s thigh, grounding her with a presence that’s both firm and gentle. As JiU’s touch intensifies, guiding Yoohyeon’s breaths to come in short, anticipatory gasps, you find yourself caught between the energy they share. You want to keep Yoohyeon steady, but JiU’s movements send a different thrill through you, a pull you find hard to ignore as your own dynamic with JiU stirs within.

JiU’s attention stays fixed on Yoohyeon, her touch reverent yet possessive, as if she’s savoring every response Yoohyeon gives. Her hand trails deliberately over Yoohyeon’s skin, slow yet insistent, her fingers brushing over her arm, her collarbone, every touch deepening the flush on Yoohyeon’s cheeks. Each movement is infused with a quiet dominance, a confidence that seems to wrap around you both, filling the air with its own quiet intensity. Yoohyeon’s breath catches with each stroke, her body relaxing under JiU’s touch, fully yielding to her guidance.

You watch, captivated, as JiU leans in closer, her mouth tracing delicate, intentional kisses along Yoohyeon’s neck, pausing just enough to let her feel every touch. The sight sends a thrill through you but also a subtle pang that you try to brush aside, yet the quiet ache grows as JiU’s attention remains focused on Yoohyeon, her touch almost exclusive. It leaves you on the edge, caught between the warmth you feel for Yoohyeon and the deeper pull JiU has on you.

Taking a steady breath, you press your hand slightly more firmly against Yoohyeon’s thigh, a silent reminder of your own role here. Yoohyeon shifts her gaze to you, and for a moment, the tension eases as her lips curve into a soft, reassuring smile. You meet her gaze, allowing yourself to ground her, pressing a series of light, lingering kisses along her skin. Yoohyeon sighs, her face relaxing as your touches soothe her, anchoring her in the moment, even as JiU’s hands roam with a possessive grace that leaves Yoohyeon visibly breathless.

JiU’s eyes catch yours, a knowing glint flashing across her face, as if she senses your quiet frustration simmering beneath the surface. She lets her fingers trace down the line of Yoohyeon’s hip, moving with that same deliberate care, drawing Yoohyeon’s body into her rhythm as she makes her shiver, her soft sounds filling the space around you. JiU tilts her head, her gaze sharp, her smile carrying a hint of playful challenge, a reminder of her role here and the depth of control she holds over you both.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie,” JiU murmurs to Yoohyeon, her voice a soothing purr. The words settle into the room, layered with a quiet encouragement that makes your pulse quicken as well, grounding you both in the same energy. You lean forward, brushing more intent kisses along Yoohyeon’s thigh, each one deliberate, marking your own space in this moment, letting her feel the shared warmth between all three of you.

Yoohyeon’s breaths quicken as your kisses travel upward, trailing along her inner thigh with a quiet intensity. Her body shifts between you and JiU, her skin warm under your touch, as you savor the softness of her in contrast to JiU’s more demanding presence. The ache you feel at JiU’s control lingers, the quiet jealousy simmering as her touches continue, each one seeming to pull Yoohyeon deeper into her orbit.

JiU’s hand settles possessively over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb brushing lightly as she murmurs, “Relax, Yoohyeon.” Her words are gentle, yet laced with authority, reminding Yoohyeon of the safety within her guidance. And when JiU catches your gaze again, there’s a subtle understanding there, a glint that speaks directly to the tension in your chest, as if she knows exactly how you feel, balancing on the edge of this connection.

Watching JiU’s fingers trace lightly over Yoohyeon’s thigh, you can’t help the possessive spark flaring within you. But rather than retreat, you choose to lean further in, letting your hand trail upward along Yoohyeon’s waist, steady and grounding as you press a kiss to her stomach. Yoohyeon’s body shifts, her hand gripping onto your shoulder as if to anchor herself, and for the first time, you let yourself get lost in the warmth radiating between the three of you, knowing you each have a place in this shared space.

Each kiss you place is firm, filled with intent, a quiet promise that you’re here, present in this moment. As you move upward, your lips trace a line over Yoohyeon’s collarbone, feeling the way her breath hitches, her hands finding their way to you, clutching as if drawing strength from you. The earlier pangs of jealousy fade slightly, replaced by a sense of connection, of being fully seen and cherished alongside her.

JiU’s hand rests over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb grazing her skin. “Look how ready she is for us,” she murmurs, her gaze slipping between you both, emphasizing the us with a possessive pride that settles the final edge of tension inside you. Her words hang in the air, a reminder of the beauty in this shared intimacy, and as you let yourself sink deeper, you feel the quiet exhilaration shared between all three of you.

Your wife brushes a strand of hair from Yoohyeon’s face, her smile soft and filled with pride. “You’re amazing, both of you,” she murmurs, holding Yoohyeon’s gaze with a warmth that feels momentarily exclusive. Then she glances at you, a spark of playfulness lighting her eyes. “And we’re just getting started.”

JiU’s eyes glint with mischief as she meets Yoohyeon’s gaze, a playful smirk on her lips. She nods toward the closet in a silent cue. You rise, feeling a mix of thrill and something deeper as you move to retrieve two straps—one smaller, one larger.

As you hold them up, you feel the slightest pang of possessiveness mixed with a quiet sense of defiance, grounding you in the moment as JiU’s attention shifts between you both. You turn back to Yoohyeon, meeting her eyes as she hesitates, her gaze flickering over the options before settling on the smaller one, excitement lighting up her expression as she chooses.

“Perfect,” JiU says, her voice low and encouraging, giving Yoohyeon a soft kiss along her jaw as her fingers graze her cheek. “Just let go and enjoy. Focus on us, and trust that you’re right where you belong.”

Yoohyeon nods, her eyes softening as JiU holds her close, her touch grounding the moment. You stand nearby, watching as JiU’s gaze lingers on Yoohyeon. Feeling that familiar spark of possessiveness, something came over you, as you silently set aside the smaller strap, choosing the larger one with a quiet determination.

With calm focus, you position yourself behind Yoohyeon, your hands steady on her hips, your touch warm against her skin. Each move carries a deliberate intensity, a reminder of your place here. You guide her closer to JiU, your touches unhurried, reflecting everything you’ve kept quietly restrained, setting a tone for the night ahead.

JiU’s expression softens as she tilts Yoohyeon’s chin upward, her voice a gentle murmur. “Are you ready?” she asks, her gaze warm as she caresses Yoohyeon’s cheek. Yoohyeon’s eyes shift between the two of you, trust and excitement flickering in her gaze before she nods. JiU leans in to kiss her, tender but with a commanding edge, then guides Yoohyeon’s face towards her core, her movements unhurried and patient as Yoohyeon’s anticipation deepens at the sight.

The moment of penetration elicits a sharp gasp from Yoohyeon, her body instinctively tensing as she tries to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation filling her. The pressure is intense, almost foreign, and it sends an electric wave of sensation through her, somewhere between pain and a thrilling pleasure she’s never felt before. Her fingers tighten reflexively, seeking any form of anchor as the object works itself inside, her senses heightening with each passing second. She shudders, pressing closer to JiU, her face buried against JiU’s legs, muffling the small, breathy cries escaping her lips.

The sounds of Yoohyeon’s voice seem to ignite something deep within JiU, who strokes her hair soothingly, her fingers threading softly but insistently. JiU’s hands guide her. The calm presence grounding Yoohyeon as she navigates the unfamiliar territory of sensation and vulnerability. Yoohyeon feels a rush of heat flood her cheeks, embarrassed by how intensely her body reacts. Each small movement makes her gasp or flinch, Then a particularly forceful thrusts propels her forward leaving no room between her and Jiu.

With slow, but deep movements, each thrust brings her further out of her discomfort and deeper into a sensation that is both electrifying and almost painfully raw. The rhythm builds subtly, adding an undertone of urgency that Yoohyeon isn’t ready to admit to. Her breaths come quicker, ragged, and each inhale draws in the faint, warm scent of JiU, Her mouth trying to explore every inch of her cave

Watching the way JiU’s features melt into pure, unfiltered bliss stirs an extra layer jealousy within you. The sight of Yoohyeon nuzzling into JiU’s folds, lips grazing her skin in worship, makes your pulse quicken, a possessive instinct sparking to life. Your hands, steady until now, tighten on Yoohyeon’s hips, holding her more firmly, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips. You let your pace quicken incrementally, enough to draw a whimper from Yoohyeon as the intensity shifts, her body instinctively pressing deeper against JiU.

JiU, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, tilts her head, her fingers still tracing gentle circles over Yoohyeon’s skin. She glances at you, concern flickering across her gaze as she notices the shift in your demeanor. “Honey… slow down a bit,” she murmurs, her voice gentle yet steady, her touch briefly pressing to your arm as if to calm the possessive fire building within you.

You nod, easing back into a softer, controlled rhythm. The moment feels fragile, balanced on a knife’s edge, and for a brief time, you believe the surge of intensity has been quelled. But as your wife's attention turns fully back to Yoohyeon, her voice lowering into murmured praises that bring a fresh flush to Yoohyeon’s cheeks, you feel it again, the jealousy that you didn't know you had, start to resurface. JiU’s voice is soft and tender, her praises a balm that soothes Yoohyeon’s trembling breaths, each word a gentle brush that eases her into surrender.

Your grip tightens on Yoohyeon’s hips, your fingers pressing firmly, possessively into her skin, Yoohyeon’s breath hitches as she feels the slight roughness in your touch, her head tilting back as a low, shuddering gasp escapes her. “Oh god… ow—” she pants, her voice trembling with the sheer need building within her. The rhythm intensifies, each slow, deliberate movement drawing out more of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Her hands twist into the sheets, her knuckles whitening as she struggles to hold on, each breath coming in gasps that grow heavier, more desperate.

“Oh—please… I—” Yoohyeon’s voice dissolves, her words reduced to a raw, pleading moan, every sound a testament to the sensations flooding her. The tension builds with every heartbeat, her entire body taut, alive, waiting for the release that hovers just out of reach. Her breaths quicken, her chest rising and falling as her muscles tense and release, the sensations coursing through her like an unstoppable wave.

Finally, the pressure breaks, and Yoohyeon cries out, her release overtaking her in an uncontrollable shudder. She clings to JiU burying her face, her body wracked by tremors as the pleasure spills over, leaving her breathless and utterly spent. Every fiber of her being surrenders in that moment, each shaky breath mingling with the warmth of JiU’s embrace, the sensation grounding her even as it sweeps her away.

JiU’s reaction is instinctual, immediate. The tremor that runs through Yoohyeon ripples into her, drawing a soft, satisfied moan from her lips. Her fingers tighten their hold in Yoohyeon’s hair as her own body responds, hips rocking forward involuntarily. JiU’s chest rises and falls, her breaths quickening as she lets the feeling sweep over her, each wave drawing her deeper into the haze of pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut, her body quivering in sync with Yoohyeon’s, as if the intensity of the moment binds them in a shared heartbeat.

The sight, the sound, the very essence of their shared surrender sparks something deeper within you—a visceral need to take Yoohyeon higher, to push her beyond the limits of what she thought possible. Your rhythm builds again, driven by a primal, possessive urge, every thrust maxing out her climax. Yoohyeon’s body responds, muscles clenching and releasing in waves as she’s drawn into a rhythm beyond her control. Her breath catches, her chest heaving as her mind dissolves in a swirl of raw sensation.

With each movement, Yoohyeon’s cries become sharper, her body more sensitive than ever before. Her back arches, her hands digging in the soft flesh of Jiu's thighs as her body shakes with the intensity.

The room fills with the sound of ragged breathing, punctuated by gasps and whispered pleas, a harmony of sensations that wraps around the three of you, Yoohyeon cries out one last time, her body numb and hurting, leaving her breathless, completely undone.

As you withdraw, JiU shifts upright, her gaze falling downward—and freezing when she notices the larger strap combined with the small tears threatening to fall of Yoohyeon's eyes. Surprise and disappointment flicker across her expression as she looks back at you, slowly shaking her head.

“Hey,” she says, her voice firm. “Why did you use that? She chose the smaller one for a reason.” Her eyes are steady and narrowing “You, of all people, should know to respect that.”

Guilt flashes across your face as JiU’s gentle reprimand settles over you. With an unspoken authoritative aura, she guides both you and Yoohyeon to lie side-by-side, her gaze warm but unyielding, making it clear who holds control. Her presence fills the room, and as her fingers trace along your thighs in light, teasing patterns, there’s an undeniable air of anticipation.

“Now,” JiU murmurs, eyes glinting with playful satisfaction. “I think it’s time for a lesson.” Her touch slows, one hand finding Yoohyeon’s core with a steady rhythm, each movement precise, deliberate, as her fingers trace patterns that leave Yoohyeon shivering and breathless. But her other hand on you is painstakingly slow, her fingertips drifting with an almost unbearable lightness, just enough to stir, to leave you squirming in anticipation.

Yoohyeon lets out a soft whimper, her body instinctively arching into JiU's touch as her fingers skim over the sensitive skin of her thigh. “JiU… please,” she whispers, her voice breathless, eyes locked onto her with raw intensity.

JiU’s smile deepens, a gleam of satisfaction in her gaze as her fingers linger just shy of where Yoohyeon craves her touch. “Patience.” she murmurs, her tone a blend of affection and control. “If I go too fast it will hurt you,”

Her attention shifts to you, her fingers tracing agonizingly slow circles along your thigh, light enough to make you squirm. "Minji..." Your voice is a soft, needy plea as your hands grip the sheets. "Please... can you go faster."

A low chuckle escapes JiU's lips, her smile widening. “You don’t get to ask, honey,” she teases, leaning close, her voice a soft murmur that sends a thrill through you. “Not after how you treated our guest today. An apology is in order.”

Her touch remains deliberate, shifting seamlessly between you and Yoohyeon. Every time Yoohyeon's breath hitches or her body tenses, JiU keeps her rhythm steady. Meanwhile, her hand on you moves with excruciating slowness, each featherlight stroke teasing but withholding satisfaction. The effect is intoxicating—leaving you both simmering, each touch drawing you further into her control.

“Faster” Yoohyeon’s voice fades into a moan, her body taut with need, each pause becoming a delicious ache.

Your own breaths quicken, and just when your eyes flutter closed, teetering on the brink, JiU withdraws again with a soft chuckle, her gaze amused as she watches the flush deepen on your face. "Minji… please, I'm sorry." you whisper, voice tinged with desperation.

JiU meets your gaze, her expression both warm and teasing as she cups your chin, directing your focus toward Yoohyeon. “Apologize to her not me and I might consider.” she says softly, her voice carrying an unmistakable command.

Turning to Yoohyeon, you search her face, a rush of sincerity coloring your voice. “Yoohyeon… I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I never meant to hurt you.” The words linger, filled with unspoken emotion.

Yoohyeon’s expression softens, her cheeks flushed as her hand reaches to rest on yours. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her voice tender. “It hurt at first, but… I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good.”

A hint of satisfaction flickers across JiU’s face, and she rewards Yoohyeon’s patience with a deeper touch, her fingers moving with intent, coaxing Yoohyeon’s body to respond. Yoohyeon gasps, her breaths quickening as she arches under JiU’s steady rhythm, her need apparent as she sinks into the sensation.

JiU’s gaze shifts to you, her eyes softening in approval as she nods, encouraging you to join in. You lean closer to Yoohyeon, hands gently finding her chest, your touch warm and tender as you trace soft circles over her skin. Yoohyeon’s breath catches, her body responding instinctively to the combined attention, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and excitement.

You lower your lips to her collarbone, your kisses trailing down to her chest, every gentle press designed to bring her pleasure. Yoohyeon’s soft moans blend with the rhythm of JiU’s movements, each sound spurring you to deepen your touch, your fingers grazing her with reverence.

JiU’s hand remains steady on Yoohyeon, her fingers coaxing her closer to the edge, guiding her with the perfect rhythm as she murmurs, “Let go, Yoohyeon. Feel everything… don’t hold back.” The warmth in her voice is a reassurance, a command, urging Yoohyeon to release.

Yoohyeon’s hands find yours, her fingers entwined as she clutches at you, her breaths coming in gasps as her body arches, giving herself over to the sensations. Your lips move against her skin, each kiss, each touch drawing her closer. She tenses, her voice breaking into soft cries, her body finally reaching its peak.

With a shuddering breath, Yoohyeon succumbs, her hands clutching you tightly as each wave overtakes her, her soft moans filling the air as she finds release. Her breaths come heavy, and she melts into your arms, her eyes fluttering open, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and affection. JiU’s smile deepens, pride evident in her expression as you both hold Yoohyeon through each tremor, your touch a steady, reassuring presence.

With a kiss to Yoohyeon’s cheek, JiU murmurs, “Do you want a sneak peek of our next video?” Her voice is soft yet brimming with excitement, and Yoohyeon’s eyes light up, nodding weakly as she savors the warmth of the moment.

JiU’s hands are steady and sure as she gently positions you and Yoohyeon face-to-face, her calm assurance guiding you into place. She eases your legs apart, leaving you open in front of Yoohyeon’s wide-eyed gaze. Her touch drifts lower, fingers moving with precision, each rhythmic stroke pulling you closer to the edge. Her other hand finds your breast, expertly toying with the pierced nipple, the cool metal sending a delightful shiver against your warmth. Your head tips back, breaths coming in quicker under her skilled, steady touch.

Yoohyeon’s gaze remains locked, her eyes unblinking as she absorbs each nuanced motion. Breath shallow and body still, she is captivated by the energy between you and JiU, as if it wraps around her like a charged current. Her heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm JiU sets—each precise stroke, each deliberate tug that draws soft gasps from your lips. With every shift in JiU’s movements, Yoohyeon feels herself drawn further into the moment, as if JiU’s touch extends through the room’s tension, reaching her too.

JiU’s focus sharpens, her touch unwavering as her fingers move inside you with unyielding intent, guiding you with each practiced stroke to the edge. Her fingers curl to explore your most sensitive places, igniting a powerful current that travels through your entire body. Instinctively, your hand clings to her arm, a silent plea for release as you surrender to her control, every wave of sensation coursing through you under her skilled guidance.

"Cum... now!" JiU whispers as she simultaneously give you a soft bite on your neck. The words sink in, reverberating through you, unlocking a raw tension that has been building. Her command—firm yet filled with tenderness—becomes the final spark that tips you over, dissolving the last of your resistance as her presence anchors you in place.

Under JiU’s expert guidance, a tidal wave of sensation floods your body, each nerve heightened, every inch alive. The world blurs as every part of you surrenders to the crescendo building within. Your back arches, helpless against the surge, muscles taut as your head falls back, eyes closed, and a sharp, unrestrained cry escapes your lips. 

The pleasure is unstoppable, a wave that crests and breaks with a fierceness that consumes you entirely. It rushes through your body, an intense warmth that spills outward, flowing down to Yoohyeon, who lies below, a willing recipient of your shared experience. She gasps as the intimate liquid reaches her, coating her chest and stomach with the evidence of your release. Some of your juices even reaches her mouth, allowing her to taste the sweet and salty essence of you

For a heartbeat, Yoohyeon is frozen, mesmerized by the fluid that seeps into her skin, filling her with an exhilaration that is both grounding and electrifying. The room itself seems to hold its breath, thick with the shared intensity surrounding you all. Every sound, every heartbeat is amplified in this suspended moment, creating a symphony of sensation that envelops the space.

Yoohyeon's chest rises and falls with ragged, soft breaths, each inhale pulling in the lingering scent that coats her. Her gaze stays fixed on you, lips parted, eyes glistening with awe. Her flushed skin a testament to the power of your pleasure. The energy is unrestrained, enveloping her and leaving her equally breathless, equally awestruck by the intensity of the moment.

JiU, the maestro of this symphony, watches with a satisfied smile, her hands steadying you with soothing touches as she gently lowers you from the heights of your climax. She leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. Then, with a gentleness that belies the strength of her presence, she brushes a few damp strands from Yoohyeon's flushed face. Her gaze is warm, filled with pride and affection for both of you—her protégés in the art of pleasure.

“Better not spoil that for any other fans,” JiU murmurs, a playful note in her voice, her gaze lingering fondly on the shared connection filling the room.

With a final, gentle reverence, JiU leans down, her lips trailing soft, intimate kisses over every inch touched by your release. Each kiss feels like a blessing, a quiet act of devotion that fills the room with a serene warmth. Her lips linger on Yoohyeon’s flushed skin, delicate yet deliberate, as though committing each moment to memory. Yoohyeon’s eyes flutter closed, savoring the tenderness. 

JiU then turns her attention to you, her touch unhurried, as if there’s all the time in the world. Her hands drift over your skin, fingers grazing softly, leaving warmth in their wake. There’s an unspoken affection in her gaze, her touch, a quiet promise that the intimacy shared tonight isn’t fleeting. As she presses a final, featherlight kiss to your lips, you feel a sense of completion, a fullness that settles deeply within.

Eventually, as the moment’s glow begins to settle into a gentle stillness, JiU helps you and Yoohyeon gather your things. Her hands are soft and unhurried, fingers brushing with care as she smooths tousled hair and adjusts clothing, each touch infused with a lingering tenderness. Every gesture feels like a quiet vow, an intention to hold on to the intimacy woven between you all tonight. Her knowing smile catches yours and Yoohyeon’s in turn, a silent acknowledgment of the closeness you now share.

When fully dressed, your hand instinctively finds Yoohyeon’s. Her fingers wrap around yours in a gentle yet steadying grip, her legs still a bit shaky as she stands beside you. Her gaze meets yours, and then drifts back to JiU, whose warm expression seems to say it all—a quiet pride in the bond she’s nurtured tonight.

As Yoohyeon steadies herself, gathering her belongings, she steps slowly toward the door, each movement deliberate, her legs still a little unsteady from the shared closeness. Just as her hand reaches the handle, JiU places a hand on her shoulder, leaning close with a playful glint in her eyes. “Maybe next time, you could make a little cameo in one of our videos,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice carrying a lighthearted warmth.

Yoohyeon’s cheeks flush, but there’s a newfound ease in her smile as she meets JiU’s gaze, sharing a glance with you as well. Her eyes sparkle, holding a quiet thrill as she nods, voice soft yet brimming with promise. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replies, warmth threading through her words.

Stepping outside, the cool night air greets her like a gentle embrace, grounding and refreshing her. She walks slowly down the path, her heart fluttering, her steps still a bit tentative but full of joy, as though she’s carrying a spark of the night with her. Her smile lingers as she reaches her door, realizing with a soft chuckle that she won’t be needing her binoculars or her phone anymore. There’s no more distance to bridge, no more glances from afar—only the closeness she now holds deeply, a warmth that will linger long after the night fades.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Partition - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Partition - Beyoncé - @scuderiarossa

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smutty (there's a bit of angst to start though)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

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The limo’s low hum is almost soothing, a contrast to the coiled tension radiating off Lewis.

I’d thought the worst of this would have been over after the last race—when he’d crossed the finish line and nothing, no controversial ruling, no last-lap drama, could take that eighth title away from him.

He had stood on the top step, grinning like the world had righted itself, like he could finally put those ghosts behind him.

For a few days, I believed it too. He’d laughed more, had this lightness about him that made everything feel... easier. I thought we’d left that weight in the past, buried under the trophy he had lifted with both hands.

But trauma, it has a way of sticking around, of finding cracks to sneak through.

And today, on the night of the ceremony where he’d finally be recognized as what he’s been, he’s back to being that stone of tension.

I watch him, his brow furrowed as his gaze lingers out the window. His hand rests on his thigh, fingers twitching in that way they do when his mind won’t stop.

I know how much history weighs on him.

It’s why I’m here, why I slid into a deep burgundy dress and spent 45 minutes getting everything just right. I know what tonight means to him.

My hand moves up to his chest, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his suit jacket. “You shouldn’t still be this tense, babe. The season’s over. You won.”

He doesn’t answer right away, just exhales a deep breath, eyes still fixed on the lights of Paris streaming by. “Yeah” he finally says, his voice tight, restrained. “I... I just don’t want anything to go wrong tonight.”

I study him for a moment, my heart squeezing at the vulnerability in his voice. Lewis Hamilton doesn’t let that part of him show often, not to the world, and sometimes not even to me.

But it’s there, under all the strength, the confidence, the legend. He carries everything with him—every win, every loss, every time someone questioned his place, his worth.

And that weight, it’s heavy.

“I get it” I say softly, my hand resting more firmly on his thigh. “But tonight, isn’t about proving anything. You’ve already done that.”

His eyes flick to mine, and I see the briefest flicker of doubt, like even now, standing on the cusp of the recognition he’s deserved for years, he’s still fighting ghosts.

Well, not tonight, not on my watch.

I move closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “You need to stop thinking so damn much” I murmur, my fingers trailing higher, teasing the tension right out of him.

His brow lifts slightly, a knowing look passing between us. "Do I?"

I don’t answer him with words. I just give him a look, the one that promises I’m about to make him forget every damn thing that’s been on his mind.

The past can haunt him, but tonight? Tonight, he’s going to feel exactly what he is.

I smirk, settling in closer, my hand sliding up to his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Paris traffic isn’t going anywhere. We’ve got, what—thirty minutes?”

He raises a brow, catching on quickly, though there’s still that edge in his eyes. "And what are you proposing we do, love?"

I meet his gaze with a wicked grin, as I call for the driver. “Monsieur, pouvons nous avoir un peu d’intimité?” (Sir, can we have some privacy)

His eyes darken as he hears the french roll from my tongue and watches me shift off the seat, positioning myself between his legs.

My dress pools around me, and for a moment, there’s only the sound of his breathing, heavy and expectant. I lock eyes with him as I reach for his belt, my fingers making quick work of the buckle.

"Est-ce que tu aimes le sexe? Le coit… Tu aimes ça?” I tease him, echoing a familiar line with a playful smirk. (Do you like sex? The sexual act... Do you like it?)

His chuckle is low as he gets the reference, but it quickly fades as I pull him free, my hand wrapping around his growing hardness.

This night is his, and I’m going to make sure he walks in that gala like the titan he is.

I take him into my mouth slowly, savoring the groan that escapes his lips, his hand instinctively coming to rest at my exposed arm.

My mascara is going to be a mess after this, and my lipstick—well, that’s going to be a different story altogether. But it doesn’t matter.

Nothing matters except this moment, and the way I can feel his body start to loosen under my touch.

I work him with the same precision he uses on the track—focused, determined, in complete control. His grip on my skin tightens, his breathing quickens, and I can tell he’s close.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he growls, his voice thick with need. His hips buck slightly, and I feel him pulse against my tongue.

I push him right to the edge before he tumbles over, his release hitting the back of my throat as I swallow every bit of it.

There’s nothing around to clean up, so I do what I have to—handle it like a pro.

I pull back slowly, giving him one last teasing kiss before I sit up, licking my lips. His head is thrown back against the seat, eyes closed, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

“Better?” I ask, carefully wiping the corner of my mouth with my thumb to smudge a minimal amount of lipstick.

He opens his eyes, that stormy expression from earlier completely gone. Now, he just looks at me with a satisfied and lazy grin that certainly beats that gaze he occasionally gives Will Buxton.

“Way to take the edge off” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with affection, a finger still on my arm, tracing circles on the skin there.

I reach into my clutch, pulling out the tube of red lipstick and expertly reapplying it in the dim light.

As I lean back to check my reflection, I notice something on his shirt—a small smudge of lipstick, the same shade I’m wearing, right at the hem of his blazer jacket.

I smirk. “Looks like I left a little souvenir.”

Lewis glances down, following my gaze to the stain, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course, you did.”

“Do you think they’ll notice it’s my shade, too,” I tease, reaching out to fix the collar of his undershirt. “Maybe get them to wonder.”

His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing lightly against my jaw. “I don’t care what they think” he says, his voice dropping an octave, more serious now.

“Good.” I lean in, pressing my freshly reapplied lips to his lightly, tasting the remnants of him still on my tongue. “Because tonight’s yours. You’re going to walk into that ceremony and claim what’s been yours.”

He pulls back, his brow arching slightly. "And then?"

I settle back into my seat, crossing my legs slowly, deliberately. “Then, I’m all yours. But first, you’ve got a circus to attend.”

His grin widens, that familiar spark of confidence returning to his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The limo slows to a stop, the sounds of Paris creeping back into the cabin. The driver opens the door, and I adjust my dress, smoothing out the fabric as Lewis steps out first, his hand extended to help me. I take it, stepping into the cool night air, feeling every eye and camera flash on us as we make our way into the grand venue.

Tonight, the world will see Lewis for what he is—a titan of Formula 1.

And when the cameras are gone and the applause fades, he’s all mine.

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