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miguelhugger2099 · 9 months ago

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Just a silly little request👉👈

Do u think fem!reader likes to wear crop top with no bra and Miguel's boxer. You two are just flirting and teasing each other until Miguel decided to toss the remote to reader for movie night and reflex, she tries to catch it reveal her tits and Miguel just "😳... Nice catch..." And smut if u want. Having his hands speezing them I'm going insane 😭😭

Just One Touch

a/n: this ask has been in my inbox for so long and ur not gonna believe what got me out of my month long stump to write this. everyone thank sir-mix-a-lot's song "ride" it possessed me and gave me energy. excuse the crappy writing, i'm still lowk having writers block so it's not my greatest work. please enjoy and as alwayssss i can rewrite this if you'd like <3 Art: mar_mar0u on instagram ! Unedited btw, plz dont crucify me ill die :(

It wasn’t unusual for you and Miguel to wind down after the sun had set. Movie night was a must, whether it was cheesy romcoms for you to sob to, horror movies for Miguel to be annoyed at, or even action movies to make fun of–as long as it was together. Still, Miguel teased you by holding the remote up above his head and out of your reach. He grins with one hand on his hip and watches you reach up with no progress in sight. “Give it!” You laugh, trying to keep your anger believable. “No, first you take my clothes and I know you’re gonna pick one of those creepy knock off animated movies.” He chuckles and he walks off. Due to the size difference, every step of his was three of yours–practically chasing after him. “Put respect on Over the Hedge’s name! It’s not even a knock off!” Miguel plops on the couch on one side with a huff of laughter. “Fine, fine. Here–take it!” He throws the remote above your head and you pause and stumble back.

You reach high up to grab the remote. “You asshole!” You laugh. The remote hits your fingertips and bounces a bit farther back. Your crop top rides and flows up as you lean back onto one foot to finally grasp the device in your hand.

Miguel could feel everything happen in slow motion. The small glimpse of your underboob before your nipples finally come into view. The grin on Miguel’s face slowly drops and he could feel drool slipping from his lips. He watched your boobs bounce, the roundness of your flesh and perky buds making his cheeks go red. He can’t help the disappointment in his face when your arms fall back down, shirt hiding the glorious view of your tits.

“Caught it!” You smirk at him triumphantly. His eyes continue to glance at your tits. “Yeah, uh…” He gulps. “Nice catch.” He adjusts his shorts, hoping his growing bulge wasn’t too apparent.

You don’t notice, too engrossed in your victory and making Miguel speechless. So, you crawl in his lap, Miguel’s hands suspended in mid-air as you nestle yourself in his arms. You feel his muscles surround you like a warm comfortable blanket, leaning your back on his firm chest while you click the buttons to turn on the TV.

“So what are we picking this time?” You ask, flipping through random trailers to find what you’re looking for.

“Huh? Oh, uh, anything’s fine.” Miguel shrugs half-heartedly. He’s too focused looking down at your crop top. Slowly and gingerly, his fingers caress your stomach–light and feathery as if trying to be discreet.

“Yeah sure, whatever. Don’t complain if you don’t like it.” You laugh softly, clicking on a random movie that looked good enough.

“Mhm.” Miguel mumbles, not even hiding his disinterest in a damn movie right now. While your eyes are on the opening scene on the TV, Miguel’s eyebrows scrunch together, his lips into a tight line as he resists his urges.

He can’t help it though. He gets handsy, Miguel carefully caressing your stomach. You barely notice it since the two of you always get snuggled up like this.

You only notice when he hikes higher up, his hips shifting slightly while his fingers run up and down the valley of your tits. You smack his arm around your waist with the remote.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to sound annoyed but the smile seeps through your tone.

“Nuthin’” He murmurs. Miguel then feels the curve of your breast, his fingers itching for a squeeze.

“We’re supposed to be bonding.” You move to turn your head up at him. You try to meet his eyes but he stays glued downwards to your chest.

“We are.” Miguel insists, his lips slightly parted. His thumb swipes across your nipple and you gasp, feeling your cheeks burn. He can feel the nub perk up and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, biting his bottom lip to hide the satisfied smile on his face.

Miguel takes his chances, bending down to kiss along your neck, tugging you closer to him and making you melt. His body moves against yours and your eyes flutter shut. His mouth gently sucks and licks your skin and you shiver. Miguel grabs your left tit, the plump flesh squeezed in his palm. His fingers flick your nipple, circling around before gently twisting it.

You back arches and you moan. “Ah–fuck, Miguel!” You hissed, a burning heat crawling up your neck. Your hand lifts up to curl in his hair while he attacks your neck, his other hand running down to his boxers you were wearing. He slips his fingers in the front hole of the boxers, using his index and middle fingers to spread your folds apart. You feel him nip your neck with a smile as he smears your slick around your clit.

He then uses both of his hands to lift your shirt up and over your head. Your breasts are now out in the open, the cool air hitting your chest and making your nipples hard. You barely get a word out, Miguel already cupping your boobs and squeezes them. Your hips buck back to grind on his crotch, eyes closing as he plays with you. Miguel used his fingers to tease your nipples simultaneously, flicking and tweaking them. He lifts them up and watches them fall down before squeezing them again. Your pussy is soaking through his boxers, aching for more stimulation that’s making you feel empty.

His eyes are dark watching his own hands play with your chest, the memory of the bounce of your tits as you caught the remote high in the air. He wanted to see that again.

Miguel could feel his cock swell and twitch along with each bounce of your breasts. You have your body arching, hands behind you and holding onto his thighs. He plays with your tits switching with his hands or his mouth–but if you asked him, he preferred sucking on them. So that’s where he was now, lips attached to your right nipple and his right hand playing with your left. You slammed down on his cock, whining since you barely felt him thrust up. But in all honesty, Miguel could do this forever with your tits in his mouth and his cock buried in your cunt. While his tongue sucked and lipped your nipple, he knew if he didn’t focus, he’d cum instantly. He looks up at you after playfully biting down on your nub, your squeaks making his dick twitch against your walls. You look down with glossy eyes, hips stuttering and pussy throbbing when you see him smirk up at you with your boob in his mouth. One of his hands that was on your waist comes up to your back to keep your body arched. Miguel scrunches his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed while he sucks on your nipple, his hips jerking and balls slapping against your ass. You wail with each thrust, falling forward and holding onto the backrest making your boobs squish in his face. Miguel groans as he lets you fall on top of him, hands falling down to your ass as you grind on him. His cock slips in and out of your wet cunt with a wet squelch. It makes you bite your lip with a loud whimper, the action making your man under you tug on your nipple with his teeth. He’s obsessed with you, Miguel pulling away just enough to make your tits swing in his face. He glances up at your pleasure filled face, sweat glistening down your face and body while you panted and whined. He’s entranced, eyes falling down to follow the way your boobs bounce as he fucks up into you. Miguel trusts you to keep fucking yourself on his while his hands leave your ass to come up and cup and squeeze both your breasts. He kneads them and watches your mouth drop open to moan. Your head hangs and your foreheads almost touch. Miguel doesn’t need to tell you a damn thing, his lips parted while he looks at yours. You lean down to kiss him, Miguel immediately slipping his tongue past your defenses with a low groan. He continues groping you, his hips smacking up with your thrusting and he can feel himself about to cum. He can tell you’re about to too by the way your pussy spasms wildly, sucking him in deeper and soaking him in your slick.

So he hammers into you, grunting as he puts all his strength in making you cream. Your eyes roll back, mouth separating from his to dig your nails into his shoulders and roll your hips. You can barely get a word out, garbled moans of his name escaping you while your body twitches, ecstasy flowing through from top to bottom. Miguel watches your chest heave as you catch your breath, your juices dripping out of your a making a sticky mess in his lap. You’re dizzy and weak, body flopping forward on his chest. Miguel soothes you, curling his hand in your hair and pressing you into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your head and you’re too numb to feel him take your body off him. He places your back down on the couch, hair sticking to your face with sweat, lips plumped from kissing. You’re whining when your sensitive folds feel his still hard cock rub in between them, accidentally slipping his tip in a few times. You swallow to get the dryness out of your throat. “Mig…Mig…” You’re cut off when Miguel slams into you, your body jerking and tits bouncing with the hard thrust. Your hazy vision rolls onto his face, Miguel glued onto your chest still. He gives another few soft thrusts and watches your boobs jiggle around. You feel his cock jump inside your walls, a soft hum of approval coming from deep in his throat. He bends down, biting and licking the side of your tit to add another mark to his collection. His teeth marks littered around your plump and round flesh–his favorites being the ones around your areola.

His face is buried in your breasts while he pounds into you, your head thrown back and legs locked around his waist. Oh, he’s in heaven.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader reblog #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x y/n #miguel x you

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planetdream · 7 months ago

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— seventeen [‘97-‘99 line] and orgasm control !

smut. [d/s dynamics. orgasm control—edging, denial, overstimulation, ruined and forced orgasms. cawk. partially pushing the sub/switch svt agenda. restraints. handjobs. a tear or two. clitplay]

💌 part one. posting this almost two years later lmao my bad

seokmin — edging

it's not like orgasming is his end goal, but the feeling of release is so delightful. yet the feeling of release after being edged for so long and denied of his 'right' to cum is a whole new ballpark. he hates it so much. but he also loves it more than anything. seokmin is always torn whenever you edge him. does he defy your orders and cum (you both know he can easily cum untouched) or does he just let you have your way with him? your hands around his cock, pulling away every time he twitches and cries out—but only for a few seconds, then your hands are back on his cock, working your magic.

mingyu — overstimulation

not sure that mingyu realizes what he's doing to you (he does, in fact, know what he's doing to you). he locks you into his hold, strong arms wrapped around you as he drives his cock into your cunt. you're completely overtaken by the feeling of his strong arms around you, the strong (but still faint) smell of his perfume. mingyu warms you up from both the inside and outside. whispering words of praise into your ear, a kiss on your skin between every sentence. no no, don't close your eyes, mingyu wants you looking into his, let him watch as he fucks you to tears.

minghao — denial

you thought shit was sweet. denying hao of his orgasm; the prettiest smile on your face as you run a thumb over the tip of his cock, squeezing the shaft of his cock in a tight first, unwilling to let his cum spill. you should already know by now, anything you do to minghao; he'll do back tenfold. he'll restrain you; hands clasped together in a prayer, rope wrapped around your forearms to keep your hands together. minghao orders you to keep your hands up, resting your soft cheek against the back of your hand, tears dripping onto your skin. instead of one night without orgasms, try, a couple days maybe.

seungkwan — forced

he's sweating. in the light, the sweat glistens off his body. seungkwan's eyes are squeezed shut as he pants, catching his breath. he tenses once he hears the familiar buzzing of the vibrator click on once again. his cock twitches in your hands, drops of cum still oozing from his tip. you reassure him, telling him to relax—all you need is just one more from him, that after it's all done you'll clean him up and take care of him. seungkwan doesn't need to open his eyes to know that you're lowering the vibrator, he can feel the vibrations getting closer and closer to his cock. he braces for impact—and then he melts right into the palm of your hand.

vernon — edging

you're wet and snug around vernon, squeezing and sucking his cock into your cunt. he's fucking you faster, deeper than he usually does, really concentrating on you. his thumb clings to your clit, working you up faster. you scratch across his back, moaning out. you're close, so close, just one more motion and you'll—vernon pulls out, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit, his hand wrapped around the base, a cute smile displayed on his face. once you're close to cumming, he'll switch to a new method of fucking you, never quite allowing you to cum until he's done playing with you.

chan — ruined

chan came up to you a few days ago, you've never seen him that nervous, telling you there was something sexual he wanted to try. he expressed it might be weird but it's best to talk to your about it. he wants to ruin your orgasm, snatch it away while your in the midst of it. he told you that he wanted to finger you, getting up to three, maybe four of his fingers; then when you're squeezing around him, wetness flowing into his palm, right as you're sent over that edge he'll move his fingers away, settling only for kissing against your neck. chan told you that he wanted to feel you cum on his cock and then he wanted to see you cry as he pulls out and presses his palm flat against your cunt. minutes later those same fantasies became real.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin smut #mingyu smut #minghao smut #seungkwan smut #vernon smut #lee chan smut #dino smut #☁️ — daydreams #☁️ — daydream.svt

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melanchoire · 16 days ago

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I just read your “killer” story with yujin and Karina and omg you’re an amazing writer; the detail and descriptive sting you use makes it so much more immersive!(which I love). I was wondering if I could resist a Ryujin x yeji x reader nsfw fic?

BEHIND THE CAMERA, BESIDE THEM ──── hwang yeji & shin ryujin

── ( 💜 ) from debut until now, the fans have adored your unbreakable connection with yeji and ryujin — little do they know, the true chemistry burns brightest when the cameras are off, and the line between platonic friendship and something intoxicatingly taboo begins to blur with every lingering touch and unspoken desire.

pairing. soft dom!yeji x sub!6th member!fem reader x mean dom!ryujin

warning(s). bitting, cunnilingus, degradation, fingering, making out, pet names, spanking, use of strap—on (and refer to it as a dick like once or twice).

word count. 7,0k

author's note. this took SO LONG but it’s finally here 🙌🏻

the weight of the stage lights always felt heavier than they were, the heat radiating down onto your skin as you took your place. years of training, grueling schedules, and the endless push for perfection had led you here, to the gleaming spotlight of your dream. you were finally part of itzy, a name that echoed with power and precision, a group of six distinct individuals bound together by a shared ambition. and yet, even amidst the rush of adrenaline and the cacophony of cheers, a current of uneasiness would sometimes simmer beneath the surface.

before debut, the connections were different. you’d known the other girls as trainees, shared countless hours in the practice room, but outside those walls, your lives had diverged. you existed in a parallel world outside the company. studies, a part–time job to help your family, those things claimed you when you weren’t under the fluorescent lights of the practice rooms.

you knew the others, yes, but true closeness had been a gradual bloom. it was strange how you gravitated towards yeji and ryujin. yeji, the ever–composed leader, and ryujin, with her effortless cool, were magnets in their own right. you, caught in their orbit, discovered a peculiar resonance. you were the same age as ryujin, and maybe that's why you got along better, but the thing you had with yeji was different. lia and chaeryeong, despite being the same age as yeji and ryujin, respectively, seemed to have their own established dynamic, one that didn’t quite include you.

initially, it hadn’t been romantic at all. you’d just clicked, your conversations flowing easily, a shared understanding forming with each passing day. while you enjoyed the company of all your members, the connection with the other two felt like a shared language, a comfort in the intensity of your demanding schedules. but the fans noticed, and they were very, very good at turning everything into a ship. at first, the pairing of yeji and ryujin seemed normal, the dynamic of the charismatic leader and the playful one playing out naturally on screen. but then, you were pulled into their orbit.

it started small, casual touches, a hand lingering a moment too long on your arm, an extra squeeze during a group hug. soon, it escalated. it was in the moments where you were all on stage, the girls being touchy with you, and you tried to focus on your performance, but the warmth of their skin next to yours kept distracting you.

and that’s how things started to blur, how the fans began to weave stories around the three of you. the others had their established pairings, lia and yuna, and chaeryeong with anyone she decided to joke with. but the dynamic with you, yeji, and ryujin had another flavor. when the fandom’s “two main characters” started to include you in their interactions, your ship quickly became a love triangle. a particularly dramatic one.

the studio choom set was a stark white canvas, the neon purple lights casting long, dramatic shadows. the air crackled with the energy of their performance, a showcase of fierce precision and undeniable chemistry that left you breathless. yeji and ryujin looked like visions, their dark makeup accentuating their sharp features, the black eyeliner and dark lipstick giving them an almost dangerous allure. the grey–blue tank top and pants on yeji clung to her lean frame, while ryujin’s military green outfit mirrored the same edgy aesthetic. even their hair, straight and with blunt bangs, had the same sinister and powerful vibe. the air crackled with their combined energy, the kind that made your stomach flip even if you weren’t the one performing. the staff milled around, capturing the behind–the–scenes moments, the casual banter, the stolen glances.

you watched, a quiet observer, as they posed for photos. their lean figures outlined by the vivid light. the camera zoomed in, capturing their raw, untamed aura. you felt a slight pang of jealousy, a feeling you were trying to understand. then, suddenly, they turned, their eyes locking onto you.

“come here.” ryujin had said, the command half–teasing, half–serious. before you could react, they were flanking you. suddenly, you were the center of their attention, the cool steel of their gazes pressing in on you. you were pulled between them, ryujin’s arm snaking around your waist and yeji’s hand settling heavily on your shoulder.

“like this.” yeji murmured, her voice low. you felt the heat of her body pressed against yours, the ghost of her fingers grazing your shoulder. ryujin’s hand squeezed your arm, a subtle possessiveness that made the hair on the back of your neck tingle. the cameras clicked, capturing the tableau of light and shadow, the intensity of the three of you. it was like being caught between two forces, a dynamic you weren’t entirely sure how to understand. the fans did, of course. they were quick to interpret the images, calling yeji and ryujin your “devil twins”, with you in the middle, like a prized possession.

the red carpet of the awards ceremony was another battlefield. the photographers’ flashes were relentless, a sea of light that highlighted every detail of your carefully curated outfits. lia, chaeryeong, and yuna had created a moment for the cameras, their playful half–hearts a display of their affection. you remember feeling a pang of fondness as you watched them, their laughter a light melody in the chaos. then, yeji and ryujin entered the fray.

then, you felt the familiar tug on your arm, breaking your gaze. you turned to find yeji, her eyes alight with mischief. she moved smoothly, her arm looping around your shoulders from behind, her other hand reaching across your chest to meet the other on your shoulder. her touch was warm, possessive, her fingers brushing against your neck sending a shiver down your spine — at the same time, ryujin mirrored her actions, her arm low on your waist, hands settling on your hips, her fingers pressing into your side. the sudden contact made you catch your breath. and you didn’t know what to do, if you should move away, laugh about it, play along, or keep staring blankly at the camera.

before you could even process their actions, they were both pressing closer, surrounding you in a cage of their affection. you could feel the heat radiating from them, their gazes intense on your face. both girls were like predators marking their territory, each touch a bold statement. you felt caught in the middle, your arms hanging uselessly at your sides, your expression a mixture of confusion and bemusement.

the cameras continued to gleam. you could see the surprised looks from some of the cameramen and paparazzi, but they had gotten used to you and your group’s antics. but you, you felt trapped, almost suffocated by the sudden intimacy. you were always the one to take the back seat, letting others have their time and space, so this was a new experience for you.

you could smell their perfumes, a fragrant mix of floral and musk, and you felt lightheaded. it was a whirlwind of flashing lights, soft touches, and a dizzying sense of being watched. the contrast between your stunned silence and their bold affection was the perfect fodder for fan speculation, the love triangle becoming a headline.

the next thing you knew, yeji and ryujin were turning their heads slightly, puckering their lips towards your cheeks. you could feel the soft touch of their lips against your skin, the briefest of kisses that set your heart racing. your hands moved without you wanting to, rising to your chest, unsure of whether to push them away or just… let it happen. your face, no doubt, was a mirror of your internal turmoil, a mix of confusion and something akin to exhilaration. how could you have gotten here? how had you and your friends gotten to the point where you were the center of a love triangle? you knew their actions were meant to excite the fans, to start new rumors, but was it really like that? or were they playing a game that you weren’t aware of?

the fans were ecstatic by the pictures. they were quick to comment on the interactions, calling you out for being oblivious to the situation, but they didn’t know that you were trying to figure it all out. you were never one for romantic relationships, you never had time for them between school, work and now training to be an idol. snd now, you had these two girls, full of chaos and affection for you, and you didn’t know what to do.

after the event, when you got back to the dorms, you found yeji and ryujin already on the couch, waiting for you. yeji patted the space next to her, while ryujin just looked at you, with those familiar eyes you couldn’t place, the ones that gave you chills and made your heart race.

“you did good out there. you looked pretty on the red carpet. also, you performed amazing on stage, leather suits you well.” yeji said, her voice soft, contrasting with the playfulness she had shown earlier. ryujin hummed in agreement, her gaze never leaving your face.

“you were really cute.” this time it was her, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. you sat in between them, feeling their eyes on your face. you tried your best to not react to them, afraid that you might give the other members some ideas.

“you guys were too.” you replied, your voice a tad shaky. you were always trying to be the mature one, the one to follow the rules, but at this point you found yourself wanting to lose yourself in their games.

they just smiled at you, and you knew, in that moment, that this was not going to end anytime soon…

summer is here and that means vacations finally, but do you know what that also means? having to work during the holidays… the company definitely wouldn’t let any of you have a proper break during the holidays that you have after an exhausting year working in the music industry. of course, what could be better than creating a new show and spending all the time filming your life during the time you have to rest from the exhausting schedule of an idol?

the van hums, a low thrum against the backdrop of los angeles traffic. you hold the selfie stick, the camera lens capturing the three of you in its frame. the bright californian sun streams in, illuminating the happy chaos unfolding around you. you adjust the angle, wanting to make sure everyone is visible. yeji, ever the composed leader, sits to your right, her smile serene and radiant. to your left, ryujin leans close, her chin resting on your shoulder.

“hi, midzy! we’re on our way to the hotel, and we’re so excited to show you all of LA!” you spoke, voice bright and enthusiastic, even though you felt a little self–conscious talking to a lens.

“you look good between the two of us.” ryujin murmurs, she murmured, a smirk playing on her lips as she hummed, her breath warm against your skin. you feel her warm breath on your neck, a ticklish sensation that sends a startled blush rushing to your cheeks. she hums, a low, contented sound, and her face slips further into the crook of your neck, her soft hair brushing against your skin. you could feel your heart pounding a little faster than normal.

your breath catches. this is… a lot. the camera is still rolling, the red light a glaring reminder that thousands of midzy will be watching this later. you steal a glance at yeji, hoping for some kind of intervention, some guidance, but she’s just smiling, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

yeji, noticing your surprised expression and the blush creeping up your neck, chuckled lightly. “ryujin!” yeji exclaims, her voice laced with mock exasperation, “she looks good with us hugging her, not just between us. you’re making it sound like she’s a sandwich.” yeji reaches over, pulling you into a gentle hug. “see? like this.” she says, pressing a soft kiss on the crown of your head. her head rests against yours, a comfortable weight. for a moment, the chaos swirling around you fades away, replaced by the warmth of her presence.

you manage a weak smile, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. you look back to ryujin and she raises an eyebrow at the camera, a subtle arch that speaks volumes. it’s a look that says “i know what i’m doing” and you swear, for a split second, you see a glint of mischief in her eyes. you quickly refocus your attention on the camera. “we’re almost at the hotel! can’t wait to see what surprises LA has in store for us.”

you tried your very best to avoid eye contact with her, but it was impossible, you felt her stare penetrating you. you cleared your throat and shifted the camera slightly to a better angle of all three of you.

“yeah, we’re having a blast already!” you added, forcing a wide smile, hoping the camera wouldn’t pick up on your inner turmoil. ryujin simply snickered.

later, after the whirlwind of unpacking and settling into your rooms, the six of you gather by the hotel pool. the california sun is setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the water. lia and yuna are already engaged in a water fight, their laughter echoing around the pool deck. chaeryeong, perched on the edge of a sun lounger, watches them with amusement, occasionally chiming in with a teasing comment.

you take this opportunity to record a solo segment for the vlog. adjusting the camera to selfie mode, holding the camera up in front of you, you talk directly to the lens. “hey midzy!, as you can see, we’ve arrived at the hotel and everything is so amazing! the pool here is so nice and everyone is already having fun! it’s so warm and the sun feels amazing…” you continued, speaking to the camera as if you were having a one–on–one conversation with each and every one of your fans, sharing your excitement and happiness.

suddenly, you felt warm arms wrap around your torso from behind. yeji, with a mischievous grin, was attempting to lift you up, trying to throw you in the pool. you braced yourself, digging your heels into the ground. “yah! yeji unnie, no!” you exclaimed, giggling as you struggled against her.

“let’s go swimming!” yeji exclaims, her voice full of playful energy.

you put up a resistance, gripping the edge of the pool deck as yeji tries to pull you forward. “yeji, no! i don’t want to get my hair wet!” you laugh, struggling against her surprisingly strong grip.

“just a little dip.” she teased, her voice laced with playful menace. her attempts at picking you up weren’t very successful, to say the least. “ryujin, help me!” yeji yells, desperation creeping into her voice. you’re momentarily distracted by her plea, which gives her the necessary moment to push you.

before you can react, a pair of hands grips your thighs from under the water, pulling you downwards. you gasp, the shock of the cold water stealing your breath. you don’t even remember seeing ryujin go in the water. you saw her go in some moments ago, when yuna started the underwater breath–holding contest, (which yuna lost almost immediately), but how could she have stayed under for so long? it had honestly slipped your mind that she was still in there with how much time passed. you’re certain that she didn’t even come up for air after she went in.

a surprised yelp escaped your lips as you felt yourself being pulled downwards. you could practically hear yeji laughing as she was using this help as an opportunity to push you from behind, pushing herself into the water along with you. you hit the water with a splash, the shock temporarily taking your breath away.

you surfaced coughing lightly, your hair plastered to your face as you grabbed onto ryujin’s shoulders for support. her dark hair clung to her forehead, beads of water glistening against her skin. she offered you a dazzling grin, her hand moving to brush the wet strands of hair away from your face, brushing your sopping wet strands away from your eyes, and you feel her fingers graze your temple, a fleeting touch that sends a shiver down your spine. you found yourself caught in her gaze, the familiar spark in her eyes sending shivers down your spine.

behind you, yeji is laughing, the sound of a melodic chuckle that resonates through the water. “you look like a wet cat!” she teases, her hands resting on your hips, keeping you steady.

ryujin’s hands move to your waist, her fingers gently squeezing your skin. “a very cute wet cat, i must admit.” she shoots you a wink and a playful smirk.

you’re surrounded. yeji’s hands on your hips, ryujin’s hands on your waist, and you find yourself thanking the universe for the fact that you're underwater. the blush that you feel rising in your cheeks would be enough to rival the brightest sunset. you suddenly hope that none of the other cameras are recording this moment, otherwise you would have to invent a new name for the shade of red that will be shown on your face.

“you two are going to be the death of me.” you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse from the water, and the adrenaline from your sudden plunge.

“oh, we’re just getting started.” ryujin replies, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

yeji simply smiles, her eyes locking with ryujin’s for a brief moment, before turning her attention back to you. “you know you love it.” she says, her voice a soft murmur that sends another shiver through you. and despite the chaos, the teasing, the unexpected plunge into the pool, you can’t help but smile. maybe, just maybe, you do.

you glanced down at your now slightly wet camera, feeling relieved that the company provided waterproof equipment. trying to keep your voice steady despite your racing heart, you turned the camera back to face you.

“well, i guess i’m in the pool now! this is my punishment for talking too much!” you exclaimed with a forced laugh, your eyes darting between yeji and ryujin. you tried to move your body to get out of their reach and find some space, but you were tightly trapped in the middle of both of them.

“it’s okay, we’ll keep you company.” ryujin said, her voice a low murmur as she moved closer, her arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you closer to herself.

“yeah, it’s not like you can go anywhere now, are you?” yeji added, her voice full of teasing playfulness, tightening her grip around you.

you felt your heart leap into your throat as you looked between them, your voice catching in your throat. “i… i guess not.” you replied, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. you suddenly became very aware of the closeness of their bodies, their warmth radiating and surrounding you. you swallowed thickly, the rapid pace of your heartbeat was almost deafening.

“we’ll make sure you don’t get lonely.” ryujin whispered, her lips dangerously close to your ear. her touch sent a jolt through you, causing your cheeks to flame even more.

“oh we definitely will.” yeji added, her eyes gleaming with pure mischief. “we’ll just need your full attention, is that okay?” she continued, her voice dripping with honey.

you suddenly felt so overwhelmed with emotions. you loved these two, you did, with everything you could give. but you weren’t sure how much more of this you could handle. you had to get out of this situation, and fast. your mind raced as you desperately searched for a way to de–escalate this situation.

“wait, wait!” you said, raising your hands in front of you, turning the camera towards your two bandmates. “i think we need to involve our midzy in this!” you proclaimed, trying to mask the panic in your voice. “what do you guys think? should yeji and ryujin team up to throw me in the pool again? or what else should we do?” you finally finished, taking away the attention from yourself and placing it on the camera, hoping that your fans would find some fun activities to do, and hoping they would forget about the current situation involving you and the two girls.

you could feel their stares on you, their amusement palpable. you didn’t dare to look in their eyes, simply continuing to talk to the camera and pretending that everything was okay, while trying to avoid the two girls’ gazes.

“okay midzy, so let’s see your proposals. i’ll wait for them in the comments!” you announced finally, ending the recording. you looked down at the camera, turning it off. you took a deep breath and turned your attention back to the two girls, unsure if you should laugh or cry at the situation you just put upon yourself. one thing was certain, this LA vacation was going to be very interesting…

the heavy door of your hotel room thuds shut behind you, the sound echoing the exhaustion that reverberates through your very bones. you’d spent the entire day under the relentless california sun, filming content for your vlog, the vibrant blue of the pacific ocean acting as a backdrop to your every move. it had been a dream, a perfect blend of work and vacation, but now, all you craved was the soft embrace of your bed. you’d already called it a day, knowing the footage you had was more than enough for one vlog, and the chaotic brilliance of lia and yuna’s combined efforts would surely be a highlight reel on its own.

you drop onto the bed with a groan, landing on your stomach, your limbs splayed out like a starfish that washed ashore. a loud moan escapes your lips, a testament to the sheer weariness you feel. the mattress dips on either side of you, and you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. yeji and ryujin, always close by, always a comforting and playful presence.

yeji’s hands find your shoulders immediately, her touch gentle as she begins to knead away the tension. “are you tired, hun?” she asks, her voice soft and concerned, a stark contrast to the boisterous energy she had displayed poolside just hours ago. “you worked really hard today.”

on your other side, ryujin is a whirlwind of mischievous energy, her focus immediately drawn to the discarded camera. she picks it up, tilting it towards herself, her lips curving into a playful smirk as she watches her reflection on the small screen. it’s almost as if she’s flirting with the lens, and with the image she sees staring back at her.

she abandons the camera soon enough, letting it fall onto the bed with a soft thud. her attention is now fixed on you. she shifts onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow, her other hand slipping under the short sleeve of your t–shirt, her fingers playing with the thin strap of your bikini top that rests on your shoulder.

“i really like the color.” she murmurs, her voice dropping into a husky purr as she studies the shiny color fabric against your skin. “it looks beautiful on you.” you had on a simple black t–shirt and short shorts for the camera, but underneath, you were already prepared to enjoy the pool with the rest of the girls.

you smile, a genuine, tired smile, turning your head to look at her. “it’s a new one.” you explain, your voice a bit raspy from the day. “my mom picked it out for me, for this trip.”

ryujin raises an eyebrow, a slow, deliberate smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. “your mother makes good things.” she says, a suggestive tone coloring her voice, her gaze lingering a beat too long on the curve of your breasts.

you let out a playful snort, swatting at her shoulder with the back of your hand. yeji lets out a soft giggle from behind you, the sound a comforting melody.

with a sudden groan, you roll onto your back, your eyes widening in mock–horror as you take in the scene around you. yeji and ryujin are perched on either side of you, practically straddling you, their bodies a tantalizing presence.

“you two.” you say, letting out a breathless laugh that's half–exasperated, half–fond.

it’s all the invitation they need. the onslaught of attention is immediate, dizzying. yeji’s hands return to your scalp, her fingers gently combing through your hair, her touch creating a soothing wave that washes over you. she then trails them down to your shoulders, letting her fingertips dance across your skin.

ryujin is equally captivating, her hands finding the curve of your hips, then moving down to your thighs, her touch sending shivers down your spine. it’s a warm, possessive caress. Both of their attention is making the heat rise under your skin.

then, yeji’s face lowers, her lips brushing against yours, a soft, tender kiss that sends warmth flooding through you. you close your eyes, leaning into the touch, wanting more of her.

at the same moment, ryujin brings her lips to your neck, her tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path, nibbling and kissing at your sensitive skin. a gasp escapes your lips, feeling the wet trail of her kisses heat up your skin. she continues her ministrations, her lips traveling from your jaw to your chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses and a promise of things to come.

the gentle pressure of yeji’s hands on your face is the only thing keeping you grounded, her soft lips allowing you to keep some semblance of sanity. but it’s slipping, fast. it always does when it’s both of them.

ryujin, pulling back for a moment, her eyes dark with desire, tugs at the hem of your wet t–shirt, pulling it up and over your head, tossing it carelessly somewhere across the room; a dismissive move. your bikini top is now in full view, the wet fabric a striking contrast against your skin, the molded cups hugging your curves in a way that makes both their breaths catch. your gaze drifts from ryujin to yeji, your eyes asking a question without uttering a word.

ryujin’s gaze is fixed on your chest, and you can practically feel her gaze on the fabric covering you, her lips pulling into a bite as her fingers begin to trace the edges of your bikini top, her touch sending shivers down your spine.

she then takes your mounds into her hands, her fingers giving them gentle caresses and squeezes. you can’t help the moans that escape your lips at the pleasurable sensation. she continues her descent, leaving kisses and bites across your chest, moving down towards your ribs, then your stomach, her lips leaving a fiery trail in their wake, stopping at your waist and hips, her hands holding you firm.

yeji, noticing your sounds, takes your face into her hands, and silences your moans with her kisses. it is a deep, passionate kiss, her tongue dancing with yours, exploring every corner of your mouth, stealing the sounds that were previously escaping you.

under the combined assault of their ministrations, you feel your resolve crumble. your hands move to their hair, gripping it in a desperate plea for them to continue, to never stop. the world around you dissolves, leaving only the two of them, their touch, their kisses, the intoxicating blend of comfort and desire that only they can evoke. the exhaustion is gone, replaced by a burning need, a primal yearning for more. you’re lost to them, surrendered, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

ryujin’s fingers splayed across your lower back, her thumb brushing tantalizingly just above the curve of your ass. she leaned in, her lips grazing the shell of your ear as she whispered. “we’ve been thinking about this for so long... thinking about having you this alone.” her voice was low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

“mmmh, ryujin was right. taking this opportunity doesn't seem like such a bad idea.” yeji murmured, her hand sliding up your stomach to cup the swell of your breast. your nipple pebbled beneath the lace at her touch, straining against the smooth material.

ryujin chuckled darkly, nipping at your earlobe before soothing the sting with her tongue. “i told you she was a keeper, yeji. i think it’s time we showed our girl here a really good time…”

with that, ryujin captured your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth to claim you thoroughly. behind you, yeji’s hands continued their exploration of your body, sliding over every curve and hollow until you were aching with need.

ryujin’s kiss deepened, her tongue dancing with yours as she explored every inch of your mouth. her fingers tangled in your wet hair, gripping it tightly as she held you in place, dominating the kiss. behind you, yeji’s hands slid around to your back, deftly unhooking your bikini top with practiced ease.

the soft fabric fell away, baring your breasts to the cool air of the room. your nipples hardened instantly, straining towards the warmth of ryujin’s chest pressed against yours. ryujin broke the kiss to trail her lips down the column of your throat, her teeth grazing your collarbone before she sucked hard, no doubt leaving a mark.

yeji’s hands slid down to your hips, hooking her fingers in the waistband of your shorts and panties. with a swift tug, she yanked them down your legs, leaving you bare and exposed. ryujin’s hand slid around to grope your ass, squeezing the supple flesh roughly.

she nipped at your shoulder, her breath hot against your skin as she growled. “i want to taste every inch of you, babe. i want to make you scream my name until you’re hoarse... until you forget every other girl’s name except for mine.”

yeji chuckled darkly behind you, her hand sliding up your inner thigh, her fingers brushing maddeningly close to your aching core. “mmmh, i can’t wait to see you come undone, baby.” yeji purred, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. her fingers found your slick folds, stroking them teasingly, not quite touching where you needed her most.

ryujin’s hand slid up from your ass to your breast, cupping the weight of it in her palm. she rolled your nipple between her fingers, pinching and tugging at the sensitive bud until you gasped. her mouth found yours again, swallowing your cries of pleasure as she kissed you deeply, her tongue plundering your mouth with ruthless intensity.

ryujin smirked against your lips, her eyes glinting wickedly as she pulled back from the kiss. without a word, she reached over to her discarded purse and rummaged inside, pulling out a strap–on dildo and a bottle of lube.

she held them up, grinning at you and yeji with a lascivious smile. “ready to have some real fun, girls?” ryujin asked, her voice dripping with lustful promise.

yeji giggled, biting her plump lower lip as she nodded eagerly. “i thought you’d never ask.” she purred, hooking her fingers into the waistband of her jean shorts, sliding them down her long legs along with her panties. leaning back against the headboard of the bed, she spreads her thighs, exposing her wet folds to your shy gaze.

ryujin licked her lips hungrily at the sight, but she turned her attention to you first. she pushed you down onto your hands and knees, your ass raised high in the air. the position left you vulnerable, exposed, and aching with need. she ran her fingers down the curve of your spine, tracing the dip of your lower back before delivering a sharp smack to your ass. the sting of the slap sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

yeji grinned, her dark eyes sparkling with anticipation as she watched ryujin buckle the harness around her hips, securing the dildo in place. she squirted a generous amount of lube onto the thick, girthy cock, stroking it a few times to ensure it was slick and ready. the toy bobbed obscenely as ryujin moved, the thick head glistening with a bead of moisture. ryujin had clearly prepped it, eager to be inside you.

in front of you, yeji watched with rapt attention, her blue eyes dark with desire. she crooked a finger at you, beckoning you closer. “come here, baby. i want that pretty mouth of yours on my pussy. now.”

with a final glance over your shoulder at ryujin, you turned your attention to yeji, crawling forward until your face was mere inches from her dripping sex. you could smell her arousal, could feel the heat radiating off her skin. your mouth watered at the thought of tasting her.

ryujin, meanwhile, positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. she rubbed the head of the strap–on against your ass, teasing your crack and your dripping slit before pushing forward, the thick cock spreading you open as she hilted inside you with one hard thrust.

you cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure as ryujin entered you in one brutal thrust, her thick strap–on spearing your tight heat open. your back arched, pushing your ass higher in the air as your body struggled to adjust to the sudden intrusion. ryujin groaned, her fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as she held you in place.

the thick strap–on stretched you deliciously, filling you so completely that you could feel every ridge and vein of the silicone cock pulsing inside your tight heat. your inner walls clenched down, fluttering around the intrusion as your body adjusted to the sudden penetration.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” ryujin groaned, her fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as she held you in place, impaled on her thick shaft. she started to move, pulling out until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, setting a hard, fast rhythm that had the bed shaking beneath you.

the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with ryujin’s grunts and growls of pleasure. her hips smacked against your ass with each powerful thrust, the lewd sound echoing in your ears.

in front of you, yeji watched the lewd display with hooded eyes, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. she tangled her fingers in your wet hair, gripping it tightly as she pulled your face against her dripping sex.

“put that tongue to good use, baby.” yeji panted, her hips rolling against your face in a silent demand. you could feel her wetness coating your cheeks, smearing across your skin like a perverse paint.

obediently, you leaned in and dragged your tongue along her slit, moaning at the tangy–sweet taste of her arousal. you could feel ryujin’s strap inside you, stretching you deliciously as she continued her relentless pace. your pussy clenched around her, trying to draw her deeper, to hold her inside you.

yeji gasped, her head falling back against the pillows as you explored her most intimate places with your tongue. her fingers tightened in your hair, holding you in place as she ground against your face, riding your mouth with wild abandon.

ryujin leaned over you, her chest pressed against your back as she bit down hard on your shoulder, marking you as her own. her hips never stopped their brutal pace, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with your combined moans and cries of pleasure.

“that’s it, baby.” ryujin panted against your ear, her voice a low, guttural growl. “take my cock like the good little slut you are. fuck, i can feel you squeezing me... you love this, don’t you? love being used like a fuck toy.”

yeji’s moans grew louder and more urgent as your tongue delved deeper, exploring every fold and crevice of her dripping sex. her clit throbbed against your lips, the sensitive nub swollen and aching for your touch. you oblige, flicking your tongue rapidly over the bundle of nerves, feeling yeji’s body quiver and shake in response.

“don’t listen to her, love. she’s just messing with you. just keep what you’re doing, you’re being so good for me…” her thighs clenched around your head, holding you in place as she ground her cunt harder against your mouth, coating your lips and chin with her slick arousal.

ryujin’s thrusts grew more erratic, her hips slamming against your ass with bruising force. the strap–on plunged in and out of your dripping pussy, stretching you wide around its girthy length. you could feel every ridge and vein of the toy as it ravaged your most intimate depths, stoking the fire building low in your belly.

ryujin’s hands slid up your back, her fingers splaying across your shoulder blades before pushing down, forcing your chest to the mattress. this new angle allowed her to drive even deeper into you, the head of the strap–on kissing your cervix with each brutal thrust.

the room filled with the carnal symphony of your combined lust — the slick, obscene sound of ryujin’s hips slapping against your ass, yeji’s wanton moans, and the wet, filthy noises of your mouth working over her weeping cunt. your own cries of pleasure were muffled against yeji’s sex, vibrating deliciously through your throat.

you could feel your climax building, your inner muscles starting to flutter and clench around the thick intrusion stretching you wide. your fingers clenched in the sheets, fisting the fabric as you teetered on the edge of ecstasy, desperate for release.

ryujin could feel your pussy starting to spasm around her cock, your walls clenching and fluttering as your orgasm approached. she groaned, her hips slamming against your ass with renewed vigor, determined to make you come undone.

“that’s it, baby, come on my cock.” ryujin growled, her voice a low, guttural rumble. her fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake as she held you in place, fucking you with wild abandon.

yeji’s moans reached a fever pitch, her body tensing and shaking as she teetered on the brink of her own release. “i’m... i’m gonna come, fuck!” yeji screamed, her voice cracking with the force of her impending climax. her pussy clenched, the walls fluttering wildly as a gush of fluid spilled from her core, coating your chin and dripping down onto the sheets below.

ryujin felt your pussy clamp down around her like a vice, your inner muscles rippling and squeezing the strap–on as your orgasm crashed over you. she let out a guttural moan, slamming into you one last time before stilling, buried to the hilt inside your spasming cunt.

wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your body shaking and trembling as you came harder than you ever had before. your vision went white, stars exploding behind your eyelids as ecstasy consumed you utterly.

behind you, ryujin shuddered, her hips giving a few last, erratic thrusts as she rode out the aftershocks of your mutual climax. she collapsed against your back, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

yeji went limp above you, her thighs falling open and her chest rising and falling rapidly as she too tried to regain her composure. she stroked your hair almost tenderly, petting you as you all came down from the high of our shared release.

in the aftermath, the room was filled with the sound of your ragged breathing and the occasional aftershock that still made your bodies jump and twitch. the scent of sex and sweat hung heavy in the air, a testament to the passion and lust that had just been unleashed.

as the initial intensity of your shared orgasms began to subside, a comfortable lassitude settled over the three of you. ryujin rolled off of you, slipping the strap–on out of your sensitive pussy with a soft, wet sound. you winced slightly at the sudden emptiness, your muscles still fluttering and clenching around the space where the toy had been.

ryujin disposed of the strap–on, tossing it carelessly towards the foot of the bed before pulling you into her arms. she curled around you protectively, your back to her front, her arms wrapped around your waist. yeji, not to be left out, rolled to face you both, her hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

for a long moment, the three of you simply basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking, the warmth of your naked bodies pressed together a comforting contrast to the cool air of the room. ryujin’s fingers traced idle patterns on your stomach, dipping teasingly into your navel before sliding back up to cup the soft swell of your breast.

yeji leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. it was a kiss filled with lazy satisfaction and a promise of more to come. when she finally pulled back, her eyes sparkled with mischief and a hint of something deeper and more tender.

“that was incredible.” yeji murmured, her voice low and slightly hoarse from her earlier cries of pleasure. “we’re definitely going to have to do this again sometime…”

ryujin chuckled, nipping playfully at your shoulder before agreeing. “you can count on it, baby. a sexy little thing like you will be seeing a lot more of us... if you play your cards right.”

she punctuated her words with a teasing smack to your ass, making you gasp and squirm in their embrace. yeji giggled, her fingers squeezing yours gently as if to reassure you that you were in good hands... and that those hands would be all over you again very soon.

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starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago

Text

i've mentioned in a few past posts about an au where Danny is a variant of Jason Todd. I haven't made a post about it yet because I need a good rhythm flowing however i've been listening to Gladiator by Jann and I have been having thoughts.

but first, let me set the au:

Danny Fenton is Jason Todd, or at least, a variant of him. A him from a universe separate to the major Batman timeline - but still Jason Todd, down to the structure of his face and his name itself. The only thing that changes, is who picks him up - and, that he follows old Batman canon, and was an orphan. Jason Todd steals the tires off the batmobile and wallops Batman with his tirejack, and then runs off. Shortly after, he gets picked up by the Fentons.

(Customary line break,,,, word count check: 5k)

And his name changes from Jason Todd to Danny Fenton. He doesn't care much for the new name change, it stems from his mute refusal to share his name to the people that picked him up; an attempt to make him untraceable should he get away from them, and to keep something of his to himself. So they name him something new. He grows to like it enough as he acclimates to his new family.

(He hangs onto the name Jason Todd like a secret - he may be 'Danny Fenton' now, but he'll never forget his time on Gotham's streets. He'll always be Jason Todd.)

(Jazz is the only one who he tells his name to in the family - she affectionately calls him Jay whenever she wants.)

He becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and deals with Dash and his bullying. And when Danny steps in during a fight between Dash and another student, Dash gives him a bleeding nose and mockingly says, "Do you think you're Robin just because you're from Gotham, Fenton?"

Jason looks him in the eyes and he bares his teeth, "Why not?" he asks, spitting blood, "being Robin gives me magic."

The nickname sticks. It's supposed to be an insult; Daniel Fenton is not Robin, he'll never be Robin. Not now, not in a million years. Jason Todd has always wanted to be Robin, so he takes the insult and wears it proudly. He buys a school varsity jacket and painstakingly undos the stitching of all the school's motif on it. On the breast of it, he embroiders in a black circle with the Boy Wonder "R" on it instead. It's not good stitching, but the next day Danny wears it down to breakfast and into school.

In normal au canon, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton (its a mouthful, just call him Danny) only meets the Waynes after he becomes Phantom - an event that leans more towards Daniel Fenton's accident than Jason Todd's death, but traumatizes him all the same. (Is it too much to want to be mourned? His best friends like to deny that he died - and Danny - Jason? - wishes they wouldn't, even if he did come back.)

(The accident embitters him, even more when his parents don't seem to pick up on it. He stops calling himself Danny Fenton - he's always been Jason Todd. It shows itself in his ghostly form. He doesn't want to wear the thing he died in, not in something that belongs to the Fentons, and his suit reflects that.)

In this timeline, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton, aged 13, meets Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne after a mishap with magic on the other end of the reality sends the three of them careening through time and space, and spat back out on the other end, in a world not their own. And together.

Danny is paired with a very confused Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Luckily, there's a few heroes there to help them. Danny can hardly comprehend the idea that he's in another universe - he doesn't know why Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne are seemingly handling it well.

On their way to a secondary base with the heroes, Danny turns to Bruce Wayne and asks, "So, is it part of rich-person training that you're just totally chill with being sent into another universe, or are you just weird?"

Bruce Wayne huffs at him, rather than get offended, and he smiles that dumb lopsided billionaire smile that Danny's seen on every vogue magazine he's been in. "I'm not so worried with these skilled heroes here to help us get home."

Danny silently concludes that he's just weird. At least Dick Grayson is biting back a smile behind him. "Riiiight..." He says, dragging the vowel out dryly.

When they get to that secondary location -- a safehouse that one of the heroes had set up -- the three of them are sat in a living room-like room while one hero, Zatanna, goes and calls someone from the Justice League. The other two heroes stay with the three of them.

Within a few hours, Danny is face to face with Batman - someone who he hasn't seen since he whacked him in the stomach with a tire iron - and Nightwing. For a moment, Danny swears that the both of them look almost spooked by him.

Batman stares at him for a moment when he enters, and then he goes to speak with Bruce Wayne. Danny doesn't care enough to hear what they're talking about, he pulls out his phone as Nightwing goes to speak with Dick Grayson.

"Are you a fan of Robin, little man?" Someone says, and when Danny looks up he locks eyes with Dick Grayson -- who is leaning around Nightwing to talk to him, the both of them are smiling. And considering who Nightwing was, Danny finds himself turning pink to the ears.

But he will not hide his jacket. He forces a grin through his embarrassment, "Hell yeah, man, Robin's cool." He says, and pushes his arms down to pull out the hem of his letterman, showing off the emblem. "I made it m'self out of a school varsity after the A-Listers started callin' me Robin."

"A-Listers?"

"Popular kids," Danny corrects, loosing his hold on the hem and brushing invisible wrinkles out of the embroidery. "They didn't like that I kept stepping in when they were bullying. Dash asked me if i thought I was Robin because I was from Gotham."

Dick Grayson looks intrigued -- and concerned, and he leans forward onto his knees and raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

And Danny grins a shark-like thing, straightening back his shoulders with a burning sort of smug pride and all the sharpness of broken glass left in Crime Alley. "I told him being Robin gave me magic, and then I punched him."

Dick Grayson's smile widens, splitting into showing teeth as he leans back into his seat. Danny isn't sure why he's so delighted - but Nightwing looks incredibly amused, and he suddenly remembers that the Robin himself was there in front of him.

Danny's face burns anew and his arms fold themselves in front of him once again.

"I don't think I ever caught your name, Robin." Dick Grayson goes, his voice thick with laughter, and Nightwing steps off to the side as Batman and Bruce Wayne walk over to join them both. They're just close enough that Danny can see Bruce Wayne raise an eyebrow at them both.

"It's Jason." Danny says before he can think about it, and barely stops himself from frowning at himself for the slip. He amends himself, glancing over at Batman and Bruce as they get closer. "But everyone calls me Danny."

Dick Grayson's head recoils slightly, and he looks a little surprised. "Why Danny?" He asks.

"Why Dick?" He shoots back, and Bruce and Dick both smile at him, with Dick Grayson shrugging with an expression that looks like 'you've got a point.'

In the end, the three of them - yes, three - get sent to this world's Wayne Manor, and Danny is bewildered by that decision to include himself -- he's not a Wayne. Why not just send him to the Fentons?

Batman tells him that the Fentons don't exist in this world, and Danny falls silent. "Oh." He says quietly, a pit growing in his stomach with an ill-kind of dread. He can't keep Batman's gaze, looking away with unease.

No Fentons in this world. No Fentons. Where was he then, in the grand scheme of things? Where was he in this world? What happened to Jason Todd? Was he even alive? He can't keep the worry off his face, and he jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. When he looks up, Dick Grayson squeezes him gently.

Dick Grayson is steadily beginning to remind him of his sister.

They end up driving back in the Batmobile. It's such a shock to Danny that he momentarily forgets the lack of Fentons. He makes a laugh sound, actually, and immediately he covers his hand with his mouth and stares at the car -- tank? with his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

"Jason?" Dick says, and hearing his name being spoken feels like someone touched him with a livewire. It's weird, it's foreign - he hates, in some way, that it's foreign - and it's so nice. Yes, that's me.

He drops his hand immediately. "Sorry." He says, realizing he'd stopped in his tracks, "I -uh, was just surprised."

"It's not every day someone sees the Batmobile." Dick agrees. Nightwing has his back to them but Danny swears he sees his shoulders shaking a little.

"Yeah," Danny nods slowly, dragging his eyes over the batmobile as Batman opens the driver's side and gets in. He thinks for a moment, of what he should say next - whether to admit that he's seen it before, or to pretend that he's seeing it for the first time. Snd as Nightwing opens the door for him, Bruce, and Dick, he chooses the funnier option; "The last time I saw it, I was stealing its tires."

To his surprise and unsurprise, Danny only gets two pairs of eyes on him. Nightwing gets into the passenger seat as both Bruce and Dick turn their gaze onto him; Dick's eyes big like they were going to bulge out of his head.

"You what!?"

So Danny tells an amazed Dick Grayson that he hit Batman with a tire iron after he stole his tires - something he is very proud about and also incredibly embarrassed about when he retells what happened in the backseat of the batmobile, with Batman and Nightwing listening in from the front seat.

(Bruce Wayne doesn't ever tell Dick shit, he's going to lord this over Bruce's head the moment they are alone.)

"Please tell me this didn't happen in this world." Danny groans behind his palms as he sinks into his seat. Dick Grayson is killing himself laughing on his left, and he saw Bruce Wayne stifling a smile before he obscured his vision with his hands.

Much to his luck, its Batman himself who speaks next, (Danny was being mostly rhetorical). "It did." He says, and his voice sounds like the rumble of the earth before a stampede. It will never not throw Danny off every time he hears it. "It takes quite a lot of spunk to steal the tires off the batmobile."

He can't believe it. Batman is making fun of him. Fucking, Batman.

He wants to die with embarrassment. He groans even louder as Dick Grayson's laughter crescendoes. Danny risks a peak through his fingers, he doesn't know whether to regret it or not because he can just barely see Batman smirk very faintly from his position in the middle.

(His world axis tilts five degree leftways seeing it; like someone dunked a bucket of ice water on him.)

"He ended up being adopted by the Bruce Wayne of this world."

Danny's hands drop with his jaw into his lap. Dick Grayson on his left chokes on his laughter and careens into a coughing fit. Bruce Wayne on his right chokes on air, and quickly recovers himself with a cough behind a closed fist.

"What?" Danny croaks.

Apparently, Bruce Wayne's family is much larger in this world than it is in his. Danny can barely wrap his head around the idea that he ends up adopted by the man, but now he has to learn that Wayne had several children in this world?

He's still not wrapped his head around it when the three of them wind up at Wayne Manor, finally, or even when he's standing in front of him himself. For his effort, Bruce Wayne does a good job at looking unruffled by it.

God, he's weird. Danny's starting to quite like it, actually. How human of him.

He still can't wrap his head around it when he meets the rest of Bruce Wayne's children, all of whom are already aware of the three of them. Danny thinks that someone from the Justice League might've alerted them before they got here.

It makes sense, he supposes.

It helps that they are just as weirded out as he is. A boy named Tim Drake sees him for the first time and blurts out; "Oh wow, you're tiny." In a tone like he's just seen a two-headed snake burst out of the ground.

Danny is still offended. He's still growing. It's not his fault he spent twelve years of his life malnourished. "I'm gonna be taller than you," he tells him seriously, "and when I do I'm gonna kick your ass."

Tim snorts at him.

The other Bruce Wayne -- Mr. Wayne's -- youngest looks at him up and down with a face of carefully controlled judgement. His name is Damian, he's Bruce Wayne's only biological son. Danny can't believe that there's only one.

If anything, Bruce Wayne himself looks surprised too.

"Todd, yes?" Damian says, his green eyes narrowed at him.

Danny feels like the specimen under his parents' microscope, he feels like he's standing on a platform that's being slowly spun by scientists. He looks over at Bruce Wayne in confusion, and then back at Damian. "I- yes?"

Damian Wayne nods, and then leaves.

Danny does not once see himself. That is unsettling in and of itself - surely Jason Todd would have been told about another version of himself in this world, wouldn't he? How old is he here? An adult, probably. Danny doesn't know if he wants to see him. What does he look like when he's grown up? He pulls his Robin jacket around him a little tighter, like a cocoon, like a shield.

"It's weird to hear them call me Jason Todd." He says aloud to himself, and it leaves a weight behind in his chest that shouldn't hurt the way it does. It shouldn't be weird to be called your name. It shouldn't cobweb up your throat to hear your name being said. It was his name. It was his.

Danny acclimates to the manor slowly. The house is big, massive. He's never been in a house so large before, he feels like a stray cat being taken in for the first time, again. He and Bruce and Dick Grayson are all given their own separate rooms - one of many inside this mansion - and the sheer size of his bedroom is bigger than his living room and kitchen combined.

it's daunting. Danny sits outside on the balcony and stares at the stars he can see - Wayne Manor is far enough away from Gotham that its light pollution doesn't obscure the sky here like it did in the heart of it.

Danny finds the constellations he can find and wishes he had his books with him. He finds the library the next day and buries himself in the back, curling up into a comfy armchair next and inhaling each book he can get his hands on.

Tim Drake wanders past him at some point, Danny would have missed him if it weren't for the fact that Drake stared at him strangely when he saw him. He walks away when he realizes Danny was staring back.

It's a rinse and repeat for the next few days. Danny doesn't go to meals, he sneaks food from the kitchen afterwards, and then buries himself in hundreds of books in the library.

Dick Grayson, the one from his world, goes and finds him three days later. Danny's eyes hurt with strain by then, but he is furiously halfway through a Jane Austen novel when Dick sits down across from him.

"Have you been here all day?" Dick asks, he drapes himself across the side of his chair, contorting himself into a position that Danny doesn't think is comfortable when he looks up at him.

Not that he looks up at him long - he hums absently and goes back to reading. Frowning when he realizes he lost his place on the page.

Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow, "Have you at least eaten anything?"

Danny hums. No, he hasn't, and he hadn't thought about eating all day. Until now that is, his frown ever deepening as his stomach pangs with a deep hunger.

"That's not healthy."

"Mhm."

"Are you going to eat something?"

"Mhhh."

And this gets Dick to frown. He straightens himself up, propping onto his elbows to stare at Danny. "Jason." He says strongly. And it's that that gets Danny to finally look up from his page, jumping like he'd again been poked with a live wire as he stares at Dick with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"Put the book down." Dick orders, gesturing towards the side table next to Danny with a nod. "And come eat something." There's very little room for argument in his voice, he sounds like Jazz when she's trying to parent him, but instead he actually sounds authoritative. Not bossy.

Danny still frowns at him. "You're not the boss of me." He says, sinking back into his chair with a thumb bookmarking his page.

Dick gives him a look and makes a decisive noise, swaggling his head side to side while he does. "I'm pretty sure that for as long as we're here, me and B actually are the boss of you."

He's never really liked authority figures, not ones that tried to boss him around, that is. Danny doubles down, his lips curling into a shadow of a scowl. "Just because you're my brother in another world doesn't mean you can act like it."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I don't want to go eat."

"It's not good for you to skip meals."

"Quit talking like Jazz."

"Danny."

Danny sinks his teeth into his lip and scowls darkly at him, shrinking into the back of his armchair in hopes that it'll swallow him whole. The idea of going into that large fucking dining room fills him with a dread that makes him completely forget his appetite.

"Your fucking- dining room is- it's too big." He grits out, finally closing his book and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Dick blinks at him. "What?"

"You heard me! It's too big. This whole place is too big. It's- what do you even do with this much space? I don't know how this- other me ever lived here."

Dick Grayson surprises him, and his expression softens. "Oh," he says, "I get it."

"You do?" The tension bleeds slowly out of Danny's shoulders

"Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved in with Bruce. I lived with the circus for most of my life, but I slept in a trailer." He says. And he talks more.

The end result of their conversation ends with Dick Grayson offering to let Danny sit across or next to him during mealtimes, and that he can talk to him if he starts getting uneasy. But he can't keep skipping meals - it was making them all worried.

Danny agrees, and Dick takes him down to the kitchens for food.

"They look at me weirdly too." He grumbles as they leave the library, Danny's book returned to the shelf where it belonged. When Dick looks at him curiously, he scrunches his nose up. "The - your other siblings. They look at me like I'm- I'm someone else. S'weird."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dick asks, "You are someone else."

Dany shrugs, staring at the ground with a heavy frown. "I don't know."

Danny seeks out Dick more after that. And vice versa. Dick reminds Danny of Jazz, and he latches onto the familiarity like a leech. If Dick is bothered by it, he doesn't show it, whether he's talking to his other world's self, to the Bruce's, or to one of the other Wayne kids.

Damian Wayne seems particularly keen to seek him out, Danny finds. He thinks it means that they're close in this world, and that Damian wants to see more of what a young Dick is like. That's what he would do, at least.

He takes up on Dick's offer of seating near him during dinner, and finds an open spot across from him. Unless he has something to show him, then he sits next to him.

("You can call me Jason." He tells him one day when they're in the Wayne's massive, fuck-off gym and they're both climbing over the jungle gym. Dick's showing him how to be more flexible. It's the most Danny's worked out ever, he likes the burn it gives him.

Dick looks at him in surprise, "Really?" he's doing a handstand on the bars and Danny's more than a little jealous at his balance.

"Yeah, dipshit," he says, rolling his eyes, "I'll even let you call me Jay, it's my nickname."

Dick happily takes him up on that offer, and much to Danny's embarrassment, starts calling him Jaybird. All because of his stupid Robin jacket.)

Danny has yet to meet his other self still, it's scaring him a little. Where was he? And matter of fact, how long until he could go back to his home dimension? The three of them hadn't gotten any updates since they arrived.

Speaking of, he was starting to talk to Bruce more, it was just... strange. Even stranger than talking to Dick. Bruce Wayne in another life would have been his adoptive father, Danny can't wrap his head around it for the life of him.

Whatever did Bruce Wayne see in Jason Todd that made him worth adopting? He's too afraid of the answer to ask. They start talking more after they run into each other late at night. Danny had been hit with a bout of insomnia and was going to the library.

He ran into Bruce on the way. He was just.. staring, out the window, with a faraway look in his eye. He didn't even look startled to see Danny standing there.

Danny asks him if he wants to go to the library with him. It was out of panic. He isn't expecting Bruce Wayne to agree, and they walk there in suffocating silence. Danny keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.

("You're staring?" Bruce doesn't sound upset, Danny jumps anyway.

"Yeah, sorry." his voice sounds stilted, "it's just..." his jaw wires itself shut for a spell, "...you looked like you were about to disappear."

"Ah.")

When they reach the library, Danny leads Bruce Wayne into the science section and takes out books upon books about stars. He leads him over to the armchair and fire and they both sit down on the ground.

"When I lived in Gotham I would stargaze." Danny says, it's the first thing he can think of. Bruce Wayne looks at him quizzically. "Well, I would try to. The sky's too polluted for that. Mostly I would just watch the skyline and try and spot Batman and Robin, was the same thing."

That cracks a smile out of Bruce. It's a small one, barely there. "I hardly think the two are comparable."

Danny is still serious. "Not to me."

He goes on, talking about how after he was adopted he got his hands on every star book he could find. He loves english and he loves to read, but something about the stars drew him in like a song. He rambles about every star fact he knows with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne surprises him by telling him facts he didn't know. Danny soaks it up like a sponge, listening intently to him speak. And when they run out of star books to talk about, Danny tells Bruce that it was his turn to find something for them to talk about.

Bruce Wayne smiles again at him, a sly little thing like Danny's challenged him, and gets up. He comes back with a stack of film books, and they spend the next few hours going through them. Bruce Wayne rattles off every single movie fun fact he knows, and there is so much that he knows.

Danny is in awe, and moves to press against Bruce's side to see the stuff he points at in his books.

"You're smarter than people give you credit for." He says at some point, when his eyes hurt from being open for too long and his head leans against Bruce's arm for support. It follows with a jaw-cracking yawn that he tries and fails to stifle.

"Thank you, Danny." Bruce says, his voice soft and soothing and not helping with Danny's weighing exhaustion. His eyes drift, and then jerk open. "Do you want to go back to your room? You look tired, chum."

He bites back a smile at the nickname, and fails to keep it bitten. "No, no, I'm awake." He mumbles, shaking his head slowly. "I wanna hear-" he yawns again, "-hear you talking."

Danny swears he can hear the smile in Bruce's voice as he speaks; "Alright. Now, where was I?"

In the end, Danny falls asleep on the floor of the library next to Bruce Wayne. He doesn't even realize it until he wakes up the next morning. But it's not to worry, Bruce Wayne fell asleep too, an arm thrown around Danny protectively like he was his own kid.

This becomes a thing for them soon enough. When neither of them can sleep, they go to the library and talk and talk about whatever comes to mind.

There comes the dreaded night after they've finished whatever book they were looking at when Bruce, the little shit, turns to Danny and goes; "You never mentioned what happened after you hit Batman with a tire iron."

Danny groans, big and dramatic, burying his head in his arms, and ignores the low chuckle. "I thought he was gonna chase me down for sure." He complains, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why did you hit him with a tire iron?"

The look Bruce gets is one of pure disbelief. "If Mothman suddenly showed up behind you while you were taking the wheels off his ride, you'd hit him too!"

"Last time I checked, Mothman isn't real." Bruce told him amusedly, and Danny flops over onto his back to stare him down. His arms sprawl out like a starfish, intentionally hitting Bruce in the shoulder.

"You don't know that, Batman's a cryptid and he's real."

Bruce roars with laughter, and Danny preens like a bird.

That next morning when Bruce passes by him for breakfast, he reaches over and ruffles his hair. It's the same thing he does for Dick every morning. It's the first of many, and it gets many stares from the surrounding family.

Bruce has a newspaper tucked under his arm, and when he sits down Danny stands up and skedaddles over to him, leaning over the side of his chair to peer at the paper.

"Any cryptids spotted, Buzz?" He asks, getting a startled laugh out of Bruce, who looks up at him.

"Buzz?"

"Well, yeah," and Danny states it as matter-of-fact. He gestures his head at Dick Grayson. "Dick calls you 'B', and B is for bees, and I can't just call you Bees, that's dumb. So; Buzz."

He grins triumphantly when Bruce laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking imperceptibly. "I know," he tilts his head up proudly, "I'm a genius."

Now he's actually laughing, dropping his head into one of his hands and trying to quiet himself as much as possible. Danny is positively beaming, ignoring the stares of the other Waynes as he flounces back to his seat just as the other Mister Wayne enters the room.

When Jason Daniel Fenton Todd meets Jason Todd for the first time, they both just stare at each other.

Danny recognizes himself immediately in the library, and he freezes up. His tongue ties to the roof of his mouth, and he's unsure of what to say.

He doesn't need to say anything at all, because when Jason Todd looks up and they lock eyes, they both just stare. And stare. Jason Todd is a large, hulk of a man, built like a brick shithouse, with a tired, traumatized look in his eyes and a white streak in his black curls. The same black curls that Danny himself has.

He has no idea what to say. Or if he should turn back around and leave.

Jason Todd sighs at him, "I know they told me you and another world's Bruce and Dickie were here," he says, but it sounds like he's talking to himself. Even moreso when he mutters half-heartedly, "-but I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."

Danny feels small next to him. He doesn't know why. "Sorry." He says lamely, his one foot skips back, "I can leave if you want." It's unlike him to be meek, he thinks. Not after years of Gotham living and dealing with the likes of Dash and his Jerk Jocks.

But this also isn't the streets, and this isn't other kids being dicks. Jason Todd shakes his head, and gestures with one large arm for Danny to come over. "You don't need to do that, you were coming to read, right?"

He nods, and tentatively makes his way over. When Jason looks at him, he sees him cast his eyes over his Robin jacket - he wears it everyday. Danny sees him narrow his eyes, just slightly. But he says nothing.

It's... a strange conversation. Interaction. Jason Todd doesn't talk to him much, and if he does it's stilted and awkward, like he doesn't know how to treat him. Like he's holding him at arm's length.

Jason's getting tired of being treated like a ghost.

They talk about their books. They compare lives. Jason Todd was picked up a few days after he stole the wheels of the batmobile. He wasn't an orphan, he lived with his mom and his stepdad before he lived with Bruce. They both like to read, only Danny has an interest in the stars.

("What do your adoptive parents do?" Jason Todd asks him, one arm slung over the back of the armchair, he looks relaxed. He looks tense. Danny feels like he's back in Crime Alley again.

"They're 'ectologists'." He says, making air quotes over the word. He rolls his eyes, "Ghost hunters. They study the dead and all things afterlife."

Jason Todd makes a dry laugh huff, a sarcastic half-smile on his face. He doesn't explain why he does, Danny doesn't ask why. It doesn't seem like his business.)

Danny wants to ask him where he got that white streak in his hair. It doesn't feel right. It feels like his parents' lab, and that isn't right. Nothing ever feels like his parents' lab.

Jason Todd leaves first after giving him a few book recommendations. Danny isn't sure how to rate the experience. Being in Jason Todd's presence was like standing in a liminal space. An empty parking lot at night. When he leaves it feels like much the same thing.

He struggles to read his books afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of being haunted.

#THERE WILL BE A PART 2 #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny is jason todd au #daniel jason fenton todd #daniel jason fenton todd?#man i love these variant aus huh #somehing about exploring identity man #I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE PART THAT WAS THE WHOLE REASON I MADE THE WHOLE POST #that will be in part 2 onfg #but its so late i've been writing for literally hours #you know its late bc these tags aren't half as long as they normally are #its not a starry au unless it needs a read more #there's so much fluff here folks #so much fluff #it was supposed to be rlly only between dick and danny but bruce the sneaky bastard snuck in there #bc i needed him to also??? be on Good Terms with danny #parental ambiguity with the fenton parents. are they good? are they bad? who knows!#claps loudly IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT DANNY DOES NOT FIGURE OUT THEIR IDENTITY AT ALL DURING THIS #starry coming in hot with another unnecessarily long au #none of my friends are in DPDC so tumblr gets it instead

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hiraethwrote · 3 months ago

Text

A TICKET IN YOUR NAME

pairing : tobio kageyama x f!reader summary : the charity auction you're in charge of is closing in, and there's still a ticket reserved in his name. your executives are on your neck about wanting a clear answer if the pro player will be able to attend - with no regards for the fact that you broke up three months ago cw : pro player!kageyama, break up, post-timeskip, reader wears a dress, angst, bittersweet, heavy yearning, regret, slight profanity, lowkey self indulgent lol, no use of y/n word count : 5.8k

“Kageyama? Hey, it’s me.”

A ray of cold ran down his spine as your all too familiar voice rang in his ear, tearing painfully at his heart from the first syllable. God, how he had missed those melodic vibrations he now only heard in his dreams.

When the unknown number popped up on his phone screen, his first instinct was to let it go straight to voicemail. But for whatever reason, the voice in the back of his mind told him he should pick it up — he definitely didn’t expect to be greeted with the unforgettable tone of your voice, causing his heart to bang against its cage.

And you had called him Kageyama, instantly pulling out the amateur stitching he had applied to the tears in his heart.

It made him feel a little sick, his last name sounding foreign on your tongue. You never did that, because he hadn’t allowed it. When it came to you, he wanted to be close, intimate, especially since distance came so naturally to all of his relationships. And one thing that separated you from the rest, you called him Tobio.

Or you used to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything-“

“No,” he said a little too quickly. “No, you’re good.”

“I’m just gonna cut to the chase-“ the sentence came to an abrupt halt when he swore he heard you take a sharp breath, as if you had to contain deep emotions that threatened to overtake your sense of calm. “Management keep bugging me about your ticket for the charity auction.”

“Right,” he said it so quietly he wasn’t entirely sure the microphone picked it up.

“I don’t even know if you’re in town then,” lie — a complete and utter fabrication to try and convince him, but also yourself, that you weren’t still hung up on the past — like you didn’t have his schedule for the next seven months logged into your phone, knowing very well he was in fact still available that evening. “But the ticket is still reserved in your name, and I promised my executives I would provide them with a clear answer if you were attending or not.” Again you cut yourself off, a shaky breath traveling the line, something he had learned long ago was a clear indicator that you were fighting back tears. “Told them I’d have an answer by the end of the week.”

Of course he hadn’t forgotten about the auction — you had stressed about it for months even before you broke up, being in charge of putting the whole event together. The red circle in his calendar marking the date kept coming closer and closer, and he had wondered if you would reach out to ask about it — now he had his answer.

“I’m in town,” he muttered simply, closing his eyes as he just waited for your voice to return.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you into attending or anything. If it’ll make you uncomfortable, I’m sure I’ll figure something out-“

“It won’t make me uncomfortable.” He was a little surprised by how soft his voice came out, but it was true — he would never be uncomfortable around you. “Next Saturday, right?”

“You remembered?”

“Got it circled.”

“Figured.” Silence swallowed the conversation, and it felt so unnatural. It was only with you he was able to engage in a conversation that flowed like a peaceful stream. He had been deprived of that privilege for so long, and his strangling feelings were slowly piling up inside him, weighing heavy on his heart.

He could picture you so clearly, down to the smallest detail. Right now you were probably sat behind your desk in your office, resting your forehead in the palm of your hand. And if he was still able to interpret your behaviour correctly, simply based on your tone, he suspected there were salty pools welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over any second.

At this hour, you were probably left alone in the company building, everyone else having gone home already. And he pictured you were longing to go home too, so you could change out of the boring corporate attire he knew you hated with a fiery passion. The second you were to set foot inside your apartment, you would walk straight for your closet to put on your favourite slacks — maybe, if you hadn’t thrown them out already, you would wear his old hoodie as well. “They feel like home,” you always used to say before melting into the piece of clothing that was too big for you.

It was most likely a naive fantasy, but Tobio liked to toy with the image nonetheless.

You stole his attention from his spiralling when you sighed, shifting the entire tension of the conversation into something more serious, deprived from emotion. “Black tie event. Prepare for press, the company won’t be shy about any notable names. Pro player Kageyama Tobio is one of those names. Just let me know where you’re staying, and we’ll send a car to take you to the location.”

The business voice had taken the phone call hostage, barely recognising the voice on the other end of the line. The only time you used it for not work related occasions was when you were mad at him...

“Great, thank you.”

A beat of silence. “Again, sorry to bother you. I know it’s late.”

“It’s fine. You couldn’t… bother me.”

It felt awkward now. The ice was broken, the no-contact had failed, and now neither of you wanted to let go despite not being able to find any words to feed the conversation.

For a split second Tobio was overcome with courage, having to clear his throat before he opened his mouth, “hey, how are you-“

“I’ll see you next Saturday.” His attempt was shut down instantly, rushing to hang up after blurting out your goodbyes.

Your phone hit the desk with an obnoxious rattle before your hands came flying to cover your face, aggressive sobs tumbling past your lips.

Even though you missed him, his voice, the comfort he provided, you just did not have the strength it required to indulge in casual conversation with him. It hurt too much.

Time heals all wounds — what a load of bullshit, because here you sat, three months after the most earth shattering heartbreak you had ever experienced and it still served as an aching gash in your life.

Since that horrid night, you had delved head first into work to distract yourself as best as you could. It had been a privilege to be able to fill your time so you could ignore dealing with the issue at hand — a privilege you had taken for granted as your sobs filled the vacant space of your lonely office.

In less than two weeks, you would be forced to look him in the eyes again. You had to paint your face with a smile, smother your sorrows for the sake of the company as he was expected to stay at your side for the evening.

You weren’t sure you’d be able to pull this one ashore after all.

As promised, a fancy black car had pulled up exactly at the time you had texted him.

The entire car ride was spent in a one sided conversation, where the driver tried to initiate polite small talk only to be met with quiet sounds that barely confirmed Tobio was even listening.

He was too busy trying to plant his feet back on the ground, nerves traveling his body from head to toe. Every ten seconds he tilted his head to check his phone just in case you had sent him any further information about tonight that he needed to be aware of. He was left disappointed every time when there never appeared a notification with your name attached.

Sooner rather than later, flashing lights surrounded the car and he knew they had reached the destination.

This was a part of the job he had never gotten used to, and some part of him would probably always struggle with the attention that came with his career path.

Reluctantly stepping out of the car, he braced himself for the overwhelming noice of the press shouting to grab is attention.

It was only so much his PR training sufficed. He would wave awkwardly, try to smile and present himself as nicely as possible so his managers wouldn’t be on his neck about the bad impression he’d given off — but no amount of training was able to calm his nerves.

Only you did that.

Whenever he had to make public appearances, you were the one to help his feet back on the ground and remind him it wasn’t scary. You would lace your fingers with his, gently press your body against his side with such grace. And you would look at him, your eyes whispering quiet affirmations; you’re doing great, okay? I’m with you every step of the way.

Deprived of your safety, he was overthinking every move he did. Was it obvious how fake the small tilt of his lips were? Who was he kidding, they probably didn’t even see what was his attempt at a smile. Was the outfit okay? Had he picked out the wrong outfit, showing up underdressed to your special night? No, he had purposely chosen a safe option, one he knew you liked. Was his steps towards the entrance too slow? No wait, shit- now he was walking too fast.

He couldn’t be too sure he had been able to pull off the image his managers wanted, but he had at least gotten himself through the doors of the venue.

He had no time to react before he was approached by a neatly dressed individual with a clipboard in her hands. “Mr. Kageyama? Follow me.”

Croaking a quiet ‘okay’, Tobio didn’t know what else to do than do as she said, eventually ending up in a secluded, yet spacious hallway. There were only a few people scattered about, all seemingly rather busy.

Then his eyes landed on a familiar frame that he would recognise any time and any place, forever burned into his memory. Your bare back facing him, phone to your ear as frustration pulled your shoulders high.

Everything else seemed to disappear when he heard your voice, “no, no, it’s supposed to be four-“ you spun around, and the sentence died instantly once your eyes automatically locked with his.

He fell for the temptation, trying to be as subtle as possible as he let his eyes travel you up and down. You were breathtaking, all dolled up in a floor length, satin gown in deep maroon. There was a shy slit in your skirt, and your exposed arms were decorated with the prettiest jewlery.

But what had his breath catch in his throat was the familiar pendant resting right on the centre of your chest — the dainty necklace he recognised as his gift for you for your first anniversary.

“Mr. Kageyama, as requested,” the stranger said before hurrying away to attend other tasks.

“Just… I trust you’ll be able you fix it,” you spoke softly into the phone before hanging up, never breaking eye contact.

He swallowed the lump in his throat that had formed the moment he had seen you again, “hey.”

“Hi,” you said weakly, your nerves driving you to pull at your own fingers. The action captured his eyes which instantly had you hide your hands behind your back. You knew all too well what was running through his mind at the moment, having a nearly primal desire to interrupt it.

One could cut the tension with a knife, thick and suffocating, with so many lingering feelings resting in the prolonged eye contact.

You reached within yourself, closing your eyes for a second to force away your uneasiness. Once they opened, and met his again, all evidence of previous sentiments were gone and replaced with business. Your shoulders lowered slightly, arms moving in front of you again and your entire stance straightening with a newfound sense of confidence.

“Great! You picked a good outfit,” was the nicest compliment you were able to pay him without completely succumbing to the sadness that was walking a fine line, ready to overtake you at any second. “It’s perfect for the evening.”

He tilted his head forward bashfully to hide the small smirk of amusement that formed at his lips because he knew you were being modest in your observations. It wasn’t unintentional that he’d put on the all black, three piece suit you had helped him purchase when he was first signed.

It seemed like a lifetime ago now, but he remembered how you had gladly joined him when he was in such a desperate need for a formal wear he could pull out on special occasions. He would never forget how your lips had parted and eyes widened when he came out in that suit, unable to peer your eyes off of him. He’d watched as you had actively swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding in approval, rather enthusiastically.

“Glad to hear it,” he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You look great, by the way. But that’s no surprise.”

For a split second your front wavered with a weak smile. You wouldn’t allow the fragility to settle — you could not afford that tonight, of all nights.

You spun on your heel, walking down the hall in the opposite direction. Tobio didn’t hesitate to follow.

“They’re opening the doors for the other guests very soon, and in roughly twenty minutes I have to go up on stage to welcome everyone. The auction will start shortly after that.” You stopped abruptly outside a huge door, nearly causing him to crash into you. Resting your hand on the handle, he watched how it clenched around the metal. “I’ll find you after. You’re technically still my da-… my plus one.”

Without sparing him another look, you simply opened the door and entered the ballroom, leaving the word ‘date’ hang unfinished in the air.

How had the two of you gotten to this point?

His future used to be so clear — he saw his entire life headed in a direction he had never dared to dream of, based on the fear of its unlikelihood. You brought safety and comfort to his life, which had grown somewhat turbulent after garnering some fame within the world of athletes — no matter how things turned out, it would be okay, because he still had you.

But now he had to control how he didn’t let his gaze linger for too long, because it could be crossing a boundary that previously didn’t exist. He had to hold his tongue so he didn’t bombard you with all the affection he still had for you, because that wasn’t his job anymore.

Slowly but surely, the ballroom started to fill up with an assortment of characters, all ready to spend their money on the extravagant auction. Tobio found himself standing awkwardly in the same spot you left him, along the outskirts of the growing crowd, feeling beyond uncomfortable.

And though he knew he should mingle, all he was able to do was let his eyes follow you when you eventually made your way onto the stage. The music came to a slow stop, the crowd calmed down and everyone’s eyes were on you.

To everyone else, you probably seemed in control of yourself, confident even — but Tobio was still able to read you like a book, rarely having seen you as nervous as right now. Your smile was bright, but very clearly forced as your eyes roamed the audience frantically.

Suddenly you looked at him, meeting his eyes that were always so soft — a feature that somehow always caught you a little by surprise. He was often so stoic, his eyebrows always just slightly tilted in a frown. But his eyes betrayed his cold exterior, conveying a tenderness you had never really seen in anyone else.

With the familiar safety of his gaze, your breathing evened out and shoulders relaxed, which he noticed. He flashed you a small smile before giving you a reassuring nod, telling you there was nothing to be scared of — because after everything, he would still catch you if you were to fall.

Exhaling deeply, you started the welcome speech, your smile now genuine. He followed every single word that fell from your lips with immense professionalism, and every once in a while when your eyes found him in order to ground yourself, his heart would skip a beat.

“Once again, thank you all for attending and I hope you all enjoy the evening.” The crowd erupted into polite applause while you walked down from the stage gracefully.

“You did great,” Tobio breathed as you had joined him again.

“Thank god,” you sighed. “That speech has kept me awake all week.”

“No, it was good. Very professional.” You turned to look at him, a beautiful smile painting your lips as old habits steered your hand for his face.

When you realised what you were about to do, your face fell, hand freezing inches before making contact with his cheek. In all the stress of being up on that stage with everyone’s eyes glued on you, you had forgotten the nerves caused by your ex boyfriend.

It had just come so naturally to you, to caress his cheek. It was a gesture you always did whenever he would come with one of his simple compliments.

“Sorry,” you whispered, quickly retracting your hand.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he stuttered sadly. Tobio had held his breath from the moment he’d noticed your hand raise from your side.

He had frozen still once he realised what was about to happen in hopes that if he didn’t move, you would continue in your trance and he’d eventually feel your flesh pressed against his face. He’d been deprived of the sensation for so long, and he was left disappointed when the feeling never arrived.

Was this how the evening was going to play out? Standing beside each other for hours in an awkward and unnatural silence, both too scared to do anything in fear of offending the other?

Tobio wanted to say something, but small talk had never been his strong suit — that was always your area of expertise, fill the void with chatter so no one was left feeling uncomfortable.

“You planning to bid on anything?” It was as if you had been able to read his mind, saving him from his ever spiralling mind.

“No, not really,” he said simply. “You?”

He turned to look at you, feeling a sense of relief as you let out a small snicker, observing how the auction was about to start.

“I may be in charge of this entire thing, but that doesn’t mean I have the money to get any of the things they’ve put up,” you sighed. “That trip to the Maldives looking really good right now, though.”

For a split second, Tobio heavily considered putting all his money on that trip for you. He imagined being able to walk beside you along the crystal blue shores of the Maldives, peace and relaxation washing over you to the point where you would finally have the time to take proper breaths.

But it was but a mere dream, only a reality in the depths of his mind where he was allowed to fantasise that you were still his.

For the next three hours, you stood side by side as you witnessed all the luxuries items being auctioned off one by one. Every once in a while you would shoot a casual comment in hopes it would lighten the looming cloud that hung over you — it remained persistent.

It didn’t go unnoticed, how the tension in your shoulders never completely evaporated. Even when your bosses came to shower you with praise for all the hard work you’d done, or when you were updated on the insane sum of money that would be donated, your shoulders remained permanently raised half an inch.

He could only suspect it was his presence that caused the strain. Maybe it had been a bad idea of him to attend.

In hindsight he could see how it was nothing short of selfish — because what other reason for attending would he have than only wanting to see you again? He didn’t serve any more purpose than decoration. His name wasn’t even among the most noticeable, so it wasn’t like he brought any more traction to the event than it already had.

Maybe it would be best if he just bolted, let you be able to enjoy what could be considered your evening. You should be proud, celebrate the success of your hard work.

As the auction had slowly evolved into a party, several pairs had decided to move along to the beautiful rhythm that filled the ballroom. Tobio would shoot shy glances towards you, spotting how you were staring longingly at the dance floor.

“You want to dance?”

“What?”

Shit — he hadn’t meant to blurt it out. He genuinely thought the question simply floated in his mind to entertain his fantasy. Seemed like his subconscious had more power than he thought when the words slipped past his lips.

And now you were stood ogling him in shock, arms wrapped around yourself as you were visibly trying to comprehend his question.

He cleared his throat, trying to find the confidence he used to have with you once upon a time. “Would you like to dance?” He asked again, voice steadier than he would have anticipated.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you considered his request. “Okay,” you whispered, his heart skipping a beat.

This was not the time to let his confidence waver, offering his elbow like a gentleman, holding his breath as he waited for you to hook your arm with his.

Stood in the middle of the dance floor facing each other, you tried to calm your rapid breathing as you waited for him to take the lead.

With slight hesitation you placed your right hand on his shoulder. And it seemed like he picked up on the reluctance in your movements, because his right hand grabbed a hold of yours to have it stretched out — reminding you how big they were compared to yours.

But when you felt his left hand make contact with your bare back, you couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath, igniting memories you had so sorely tried to forget.

In the dead of night, when it seemed like the two of you were the only people left in the world, he would place his lips tenderly along your back, pulling soft giggles from you as his breath tickled you when it brushed against your skin.

And now his warm hand was resting within the ghost of those kisses, reminding you not only of the private and intimate moments shared together, but also just how gentle he was with you.

To say Tobio was a little rough around the edges was an understatement. He could definitely be crass, tone bordering on cruel when talking to someone, despite having no ill intentions whatsoever. His face was nearly permanently stamped with a frown, seemingly always in a bad mood to the untrained eye.

The Tobio people saw on court was also ruthless. Always giving it his all, whether if it was his calculated sets or his powerful serves — he never showed his opponents mercy.

But the second a match was over, and he was reunited with you, all edge seemed to disappear. Same strong hands that had recently performed fiercely on the court, would now cup your face with utmost care while you shied away from prying eyes.

Same tender touch was pressed lovingly against your back in this very moment — and it felt so safe. The security he always supplied in his embrace came to show so easily. Taking care of you was second nature to him, even now after everything.

“Never known you to be a dancer,” you said carefully as he started to take the lead, moving surprisingly graciously along to the music.

“I’m full of surprises,” he dared to joke with the faintest smirk.

“Never known you to be a guy of surprises either,” you quipped, having his smirk stretch a little wider.

He turned to scan the other couples, leaving you to just admire him.

He really was beautiful, and he didn’t even seem to be the slightest bit aware of the fact. When going about his day, he never brought attention to himself so it was easy to forget — until it struck you like lightning from clear skies, suddenly and all at once.

“You’ve outdone yourself tonight,” he breathed, shifting his attention back to your face. It caught you off guard, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, scared he caught you in your admiration.

“You really think so?”

“Definitely. I’m really impressed.” Again you had his heart skip a beat, when for the first time this evening, you flashed him a wide and genuine grin.

“Thank you.”

“Then again-“ he began, a little scared to continue when you raised your eyebrows in curiosity. “You’ve always been impressive.”

Finally your stress released. Your shoulders lowered and you relaxed in his arms, a softness in your features he had been waiting to reunite with.

This was Tobio — the person you had shared countless conversations about all and nothing with, who knew you inside out. There wasn’t any reason for it to be uncomfortable. Why not make the best out of the situation?

“Volleyball’s going great, I hear,” you breathed, a newfound, though a little unsteady, contentment in your voice.

He nodded slowly, “yeah, you could say that,” a shameless smile of pride curling his lips upwards.

“Bet you can see the end of the road to being the best, now?”

“Staring to spot it,” he mused, acting a lot more humble than you were used to.

“Only Oikawa ahead of you now. Heard he’s still considered to be a remarkable setter-“

“Oh, shut up,” he said with a roll of the eyes, your words trailing into soft giggles.

“You know I’m just kidding. I’ve known you to be the best all along,” you said softly, slowly melting into his embrace more and more by the second.

And by the way he was looking at you right now, with a sense of safety that would always make you feel some sort of belonging, no matter what, you’d never be entirely lost when with Tobio.

It seemed like he felt it too. So many shared moments was coming back to him when being allowed to gaze into your eyes again, especially after all this time — he was scared he might end up spiralling if he let himself sink too deep in the familiar comfort of you.

You couldn’t help but flinch when he broke the eye contact, clearing his throat when he once again observed the surrounding crowd. “Do you think…”

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think they’ll write about this?” He scoffed, nodding in the direction of the not so subtle press who had very clearly been snapping pictures of you.

You shrugged. “I’m not worried,” you breathed, “we were never really public enough to be prolific, were we?”

The soft sound of your nervous chuckle drew his attention right back to you. He shouldn’t be too surprised that something as simple as the sound of your laugh and the twinkle in your eye could threaten to have him fall back in again — he knew he was weak. He felt it every day, with every beat of his heart, how it pulled at him to return to you.

You were dangerous that way, both to him and yourself. Your eyes would always betray you when they were staring at him, your devotion clear as day. It was always simmering just below the surface no matter how far apart you were.

“Besides, I mean, I am really just some nobody working behind the scenes in some big company. I’m no one really cares about-“

A frustrate groan shot past his teeth, spotting how his eyebrows narrowed in the angle he so often sported. “You’ve never been a nobody.” He drew a breath, a distinctly sharp one, his lips drawing in a thin line as he churned what words to say next. “You’re more than a nobody. You’re more than a somebody. You matter. You’re the only one who matters.” His voice was stern, but surprisingly calm — which only made it worse.

You couldn’t wrap your head around how he managed to serve such insanely deep and powerful declaration as it was nothing. It was like he had no idea what kind of weight his words carried, no regard for what impact it might have on you.

And there was a very simple explanation to that — because to him it was nothing. It was just the truth, which always came easy to him.

He noticed the inner corners of your eyebrows tighten, painting your face with sorrow as the corner of your lips drooped south.

“There were reasons, right? Reasons we broke up?” He asked carefully. As his volume lowered, he tilted his head forward, bringing him so painfully close.

Your sad eyes flittered between his, his crystal pools of blue that always enforced the intensity of his messages, and you began to think.

When you could feel his love still pulsating off of him, and his slightly calloused thumb sending sparks throughout your body as it subconsciously moved back and forth in soft swipes along your spine, it was hard to remember any one reason for why things ended at all.

“Yeah,” you sighed solemnly, nodding slowly, “yeah, I’m sure there was.”

The deep breath he took brushed against your face, and you had to swallow the little sob that harboured deep in your throat. “Do you miss it?”

You instantly knew what he really asked — did you miss him — the real meaning wasn’t hard to deduce, Tobio had always been horrible at hiding his real intentions.

“Sure, some days more than others,” your voice cracked slightly. It was only for a faint second, but it flashed across his face how it wasn’t necessarily the answer he wanted, a hint of anger threatening to scrunch his face. But it evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s not easy, if that’s what you’re really asking.”

“You see right through me, huh?” It sounded as he was attempting to pull the mood up, but when there was no rise in his tone nor an optimistic twitch in his expression, he failed miserably.

“Well, still know you better than I know myself.”

Silence fell between you, still letting the safety of his arms guide you along to the symphonies that filled the ballroom. You were so close to falling in, completely surrender to the serenity you knew would come over you if you just gave in.

“You know, if there was something I did, I am really sor-“

“Can we pretend?” You cut him off. “Just for tonight, can we just forget everything and pretend?”

His lips parted in surprise. Your antsy nerves creeped back into your body when he slowly pulled back, certain he would turn the request down.

And he knew he should. In a matter of seconds, the healing you’d both gone through up until this point would be undone. But he wasn’t strong enough, especially after having been at war with that antagonising devil on his shoulder all night. With your request egging it on, he was going to let it win.

“Okay,” he whispered, straightening his posture.

With the blink of an eye, you had turned it all off. A smile adorned your lips before simply inching closer to rest your cheek against his chest, reunited with the sound of his heartbeat that you were so used to falling asleep too.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him rest his cheek on the crown of your head, his limbs squeezing you just a little tighter, as if it was somehow going to prevent you from slipping away when the evening came to a close.

You had expected it to pick up its pace, beat like a hummingbird — but it was steady.

Maybe his heart was finally beating steady, after stuttering in his chest for months, lost as it tried to find back to its purpose. And now it had been reunited with it, instantly recognising the euphoria and quickly settling into its supposed rhythm.

Bittersweet — that was how it felt. You were allowing yourself to completely bask in the comfort of Tobio. You hadn’t felt such contentment and rest since the split, and it felt nice to breathe calmly for once.

But he was still your ex, and it would come to an end eventually, again going your separate ways.

Those were sorrows for tomorrow.

You allowed yourself to dance with him, your tears quietly wetting the fabric of his jacket until the evening came to an end.

Looming in the shadow of the auctions success was a sight no one had expected to see.

She’s the cute face behind the whole event, having worked countless hours to pull it all together for it to turn out the way it did, and it’s safe to assume she is probably thrilled with the sum they were able to rake in for the sake of a good cause.

However, you’re probably reading her name and finding it awfully familiar — but you can’t seem to understand why; there’s no reason for you to know the name of some random employee at a big shot company. The name probably rings a bell because she is better known as the ex girlfriend of star player Kageyama Tobio, seemingly home in Japan for a visit. Was the reason for his unexpected return solely to attend the big evening of a special ex-someone?

During their time together, they rarely made headlines as they were notorious for keeping their relationship private. But once the handsome Ali Roma setter became available, people were quick to show their interest.

Though we were not lucky enough to be of attendance at the charity auction, we’ve gotten our hands on exclusive pictures from the night. Not only were they spotted together for the majority of the evening, these photos show they didn’t seem shy when sharing a rather intimate moment on the dance floor.

One can start to speculate if the corporate sweetheart has once again swooned the sought after Kageyama.

Fret not, because we got a rare statement from the woman of the hour, and she says : “I have nothing but respect and adoration for Kageyama, but-“

Tobio shut the magazine, unable to finish the article.

tags : @hiraethwa ﾉ @shouyuus (hope you dont mind i added you love)

an : dedicated to tobio nation <3 lets go with the angst, it is obvi what i love. idk if you guys picked it up, but to me it's sooooo clear where my writers block started to disappear lol comments and reblogs is much appreciated

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jamminvroomvroom · 1 year ago

Text

in the middle of nowhere.

ln x fem!reader

in which you get the wrong idea in the middle of nowhere, so lando finally pops the question.

hello again! two fics in three days, unhinged jas is back 🤭 right so anyways, here you go! i love this concept so much and i hope you do too, lemme know what you think!

this can absolutely count as part two to everything if you want it to!

songs to set the mood: green eyes::siena by nothing but thieves, fearless by taylor swift, white ferrari by frank ocean, to love by suki waterhouse

warnings: 18+ minors dni! smut, angst for a sec, fluff, bit of choking, reader being stupid, lando also being stupid, then being so sickeningly in love, car sex hehe

2.1k words

the proposal

lando could see it now, the picture clear in his mind. the lines of your dress, clean and white. a veil that flowed, lacy and intricate. your eyes meeting his as you ascended towards him, ready to be bound together in life and love by two silver bands.

all you had to do was say yes. all he had to do was ask.

it was simple enough, getting down on one knee, bowing down before the woman he cherished with everything he had. the planning, however, that went into asking the question was eating him alive.

lando thought that he’d nailed it, finally landing on that one big idea that you’d remember for the rest of your lives. the perfect moment where he’d pledge to be yours forever.

little did he know that while the preparation was killing him slowly, it was also killing you.

the car ride was quiet.

lando tried to remain neutral, hiding his nerves and excitement. today was the day, you were en route to a small vineyard in the south of france. the drive from your monaco apartment wasn’t too far, but it was long enough for the pair of you to slip into silence. lando perceived it to be comfortable, glancing at you every now and then, noticing how you were taking in the countryside.

he tried not to concern himself over the way you were fiddling with your hair, chewing at your fingernails. you didn’t seem to notice the way he was watching you, eyes flirting between where you sat and the road ahead. he was more concerned by the dark cloud gathering ahead, but found some hope in the way the sunlight broke through, casting beams of light every which way.

the road was dead, not another car for miles. lando felt like you were the only two people in the world, manoeuvring the vintage lamborghini through the winding lanes, the overhanging trees casting curious shadows. it felt like a fairytale, until, of course, it didn’t.

“do you still love me, lando?” you choked out, finally turning to look at him.

lando slammed the brakes, hard. the way they screeched in protest told him that he’d be dropping a large sum into his mechanics bank account, but he couldn’t find an ounce of care, not when the woman he adored was asking such gut wrenching questions.

“what?” lando spat, delirious with confusion. his eyes were wide, wild with fear. “i- what?” he repeated himself, heart beating dangerously fast, and not in the usual way it did when you spoke.

“you just… are you breaking up with me?” your eyes were brimming with tears, lip quivering ever so slightly, but you stayed strong.

“are you serious?” lando was bewildered. “why would you think that?” he was wracking his brain for anything he’d done wrong.

“you’ve been so distant, at first i thought- well i don’t know what i thought, i just feel like you’re slipping away from me.” you sounded like the shell of your usual self, distraught in the face of it all ending. lando was too.

“baby, i’m so sorry. you’ve got it all wrong, i promise.” lando turned in his seat towards you, quickly checking his mirror as he did, safety first. he grabbed your hands, eyes meeting yours as he tried to convey reassurance.

“why have you been like this, then? have i done something wrong?” and so the troubleshooting began.

lando clenched his teeth, wondering how on earth he could explain his way out of this one without completely letting the cat out of the bag. it seemed that while he was planning perfection, he’d been neglecting you and he felt painfully stupid.

“i can’t… well, i can’t say.” lando replied, voice laced with hesitation. you frowned at his lack of explanation, head tilted in confusion.

“you can’t say? well that’s reassuring.” you bit back sarcastically. “if you don’t want me anymore, i’d rather you just tell me now.”

lando couldn’t believe what he was hearing. three years. three years you’d been together, and he was sure he’d loved you even longer. he was shocked that you thought that low of him, that he’d treat you so poorly, stringing you along. he could admit to himself that he’d made a bit of a mess of this, but he couldn’t accept that you thought he didn’t love you.

lando lived and breathed you.

“are you serious? you think i don’t want you?” his mind was moving a million miles an hour, and it spurred him on to make his next move. “get out the car.”

lando swung his door open, bounding round the door to open your door. there was a little velvet box burning a hole in his pocket, and he could feel it getting hotter with every stride he took. you stared at him dumbfounded when he took your hand, pulling you out of the car and into the road. you glanced around nervously, making sure you weren’t about to cause a car crash, but the coast was clear.

he pulled you into his chest, holding you close, eyes fixed on yours, his own a little teary now.

“you think i don’t want you? god.” lando sighed, shaking his head. one of his hands snaked down to his pocket. “you are the only person i will ever want. i didn’t want to do this here, had a whole plan and everything, but that means nothing to me if the woman i love thinks i don’t want her.”

his little speech had knocked the air out of you, and as he sunk down onto one knee, the colours of the sun hitting him so beautifully, you realised just how wrong you had been.

“baby, from the moment i met you, i knew. i knew you were gonna be my person, i just didn’t even imagine that you’d feel the same way. these years with you have been the best fucking years of my life, and i knew from the beginning that i wanted you by my side through it all.”

he was grinning up at you, a ball of nerves and curls, a few tears falling. you were a river, weeping over him, one hand clutching over your heart, the other fallen to your side.

“maybe i got it wrong, and i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry. but i’m asking what i’ve wanted to ask for a ridiculously long time.” lando breathed. “will you marry me?”

you blinked, once, twice, choking out breaths between sobs. you dragged him up from the ground, kissing him with everything you had left. it was passionate, heavy with pent up emotion, and you never wanted to let him go. you cupped his face, keeping you together when you broke apart.

“yes, lando.” you whispered. “of course.” he slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect, effortless fit, and then you were kissing him again, as close as could be, his hands all over you.

that’s when you felt the first drops of rain, the clouds finally breaking, just as they’d been threatening to all day.

“oh, fuck.” lando muttered, ready to pull you back to the car, but you wanted this moment to last.

“it doesn’t matter.” you said, letting the droplets coat your flushed skin. lando just smiled, relief washing over him like the rain.

you were engaged. fuck the rain.

and so, there you were, getting your very own movie moment, kissing in the rain with the love of your life, your fiancé, the man you would spend the rest of your life with. the sun still broke through the clouds, bathing you in light as the rain splattered against the damp ground. the leaves of the trees seemed to glisten, water droplets casting twinkles like fairy lights all around you. somehow, after everything, it was perfect. more perfect that anything you could have asked for, and, as bittersweet as it was to admit it, better than anything lando could have planned.

you threw your head back, staring up at the sky. lando leant forward, kissing over your exposed neck, and you hummed in delight. his lips worked their way up until they were ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“i love you. i will always love you.” lando whispered, and you melted into his hands that had a firm grip on your waist.

you shared a look, every worry dissipated, and you saw your life together, right there in his eyes. a flower littered aisle, him in a sleek black suit, his eyes meeting yours from the other side of the room. and then he was kissing you again and you felt the cool, damp metal of his car against your skin. your mind was full of houses in the country, white bedsheets, children playing in a garden. dinners by a fireplace and maybe a dog. but everything you saw slipped away until the only thing that remained was lando, right here, right now.

he was all over you, wet curls trickling cold water over you, sending a shiver down your spine. you grabbed at his shoulders, pulling at his soaked shirt, the white material translucent from the weather. it clung to him deliciously as you ran your hands over the linen.

“get in the car.” he groaned, sliding the material of your skirt up your legs. you complied instantly, turning to climb into your seat, when he stopped you. “no, honey. on my lap.” he smiled mischievously as he slid into the passenger seat and you quickly followed clambering onto his lap.

lando pulled your left hand up, so that it was resting over his heart. you finally had a chance to properly take in the ring, breathtaking as it was. it was an emerald cut diamond, simple yet elegant, exactly what you’d always envisioned.

“you see that? every time you look at this ring i want you to remember that i will always be yours. okay?” his voice had dropped, making the moment you were in even more intimate.

“okay.” you whispered, and his hand trailed lower, slipping under the hem of your ridden up dress. the other went to your neck, fingers gripping softly at the base of your throat.

“you thought i didn’t want you?” his grip tightened, your eyes wide in awe, fixed on his, murky blue green waters turned dark. “silly girl.” and then his other hand found your underwear, tugging it to the side.

lando moaned when he felt how wet you were, dripping all over his fingers, nice and ready for him. he worked through your folds, applying a firm, slow pressure to your clit. your mouth hung open, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure, but the way his hand closed around your neck had you staring back at him again.

“i need you.” you whimpered, your own smaller hands gripping at his wrist, pushing him further into your delicate neck, rolling your hips against where his hand worked against your soft flesh.

“don’t doubt me anymore, do you? not when i’m the only one who can make you feel like this?” lando teased, and your stomach tightened, clamping down on the two fingers he’d slipped inside you.

“no,” you whined. “only you, lando.” and that was enough convincing for him.

he held you up, just enough to free himself from his jeans and boxers, and you gripped his shoulders, clawing at him as you sunk down on his length. the rain fell harder, condensation gathering on the windows as you ground down on him, meeting his thrusts. tears pricked your eyes; he felt so good, fit you like a missing puzzle piece, and you’d doubted him. you knew, in that moment, that you’d never do such a thing again.

moans were shared between you in unison, your foreheads pressed together as you both got closer and closer, the tight space intensifying the desperation to meet your end. his hands were firm on your hips, his body tight underneath your hands. you couldn’t keep the pace, thighs aching where you were straddling him, and he quickly took charge. your head fell to his shoulder, panting into his ear as he gave you everything, putting everything he had into the final few thrusts.

you laid against his chest in silence after, the sunset casting pinks and purples over the car. you grinned lazily, exhausted, your heart fuller than ever before.

“i’m sorry i doubted you.” you mumbled into his neck, nosing at his stubbled jaw.

“i’m sorry i made you doubt me.” he responded, stroking your hair, squeezing you tighter for a second.

“i can’t wait to marry you, lando.” you kissed his jaw, sitting up to smile at him. your hands looped around his neck, twisting his curls around your fingers.

“my wife.” lando chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “let’s get you home, hm?”

“please.” you crooned. “i’m sure you need to tell max that you finally asked me, huh?”

“you know me too well.”

taglist

removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit

#lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #f1 smut #f1 fics #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 angst

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crystalflygeo · 9 months ago

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Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: Your usual mentions of slavery and sexual themes, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. Also allusions to depression and mentions of death.

notes: Aahahaha this took forever..... allow me top explain: first of all my new job is killing me and second of all I'm going through a hard period where I don't really like anything I write anymore. This work in particularly I kept struggling with the pacing, the dialogues, the way I wanted feelings to come across or scenes to flow it's just hhhnnnggg. I told a couple of friends that I set the bar so high with the first part I feel like nothing else I write will be that good. Then the second part was "ok" but cut off in a cliffhanger and has been there for SO LONG that now I feel this will be underwhelming after all the buildup//hit

I hope it's not. I hope it's good.

Anyway this part is in Zhongli's pov and contains flashbacks which will be fully in italics! Enjoy! and thanks for caring so much about this story ;w; ILU all <3

<- Part 2.

Your instincts mess up with your head.

Your crying and anxiety have simmered to a cold numbness.

Hours blur together, time loses meaning.

The doctor comes by sometimes. The maids bring you food. But everything feels… off, distant.

This doesn’t feel… like your usual heats.

You curl up and sob, a choked soft noise.

You don’t feel hot, but rather cold. Limbs weak. Dizzy.

Your heart aches.

You’re so tired.

And so sleepy…

Zhongli puts down the seal stamp and deflates back into his chair with a sigh, he must have read the same line at least five times already. He cannot concentrate at all. It’s not even been three days and each hour, each minute, feels eternal.

He’s already gotten so used to your presence, so smitten with you and your little quirks, your rare smiles, the way your ears and tail flicker, your pretty eyes…

And he remembers those same eyes begging for him, teary. Your pitiful cry. Your distressed scent.

Guilt eats at him. As well as something else…

He’s been restless, barely slept. Your scent is a siren’s song on the blankets, tart and fresh and tantalizing, but you are not with him. Anxious energy flows in his veins. This emotion, this thing that is like regret and sorrow and fear all tangled together, cleaves him through. His instincts are screaming at him, rattling inside a cage of his own making. His mate, his precious Omega is in heat, you’re scared and lonely and need him. Zhongli has to suppress a growl and feel the shudder of his scales at the fact that he’s not with you. In your nest. Taking care of you.

It’s agonizing.

"How is she?"

The same question, over and over, at any chance he gets.

"She refuses to eat, your majesty." Xiao tells him, and he can feel the concern in the younger Alpha’s voice. “According to the maids she only took a few bites of the ajilenak nuts, the rest of the food was left untouched.”

…

"She's um... she's always sleeping when I go check up on her." Ganyu explains a little crestfallen. She too is worried. “A-at least I think she’s in no pain… she was clinging to one of your hanfus.”

…

"You should go see her, Zhongli." Ping states, a rare serious expression on her usual gentle factions. “Baizhu says she’s going through the worst case of separation sickness he’s ever seen. Is that really what you want your poor Yin to go through?”

He lets out a frustrated rumble.

“Of course not. But it’s for the best, I don’t want to… take advantage of her, or force her to anything.” Zhongli frowns, trying to focus on the papers in front of him again, in an attempt to ignore her piercing gaze.

“Is it really any of that if she wants her mate?” Ping retorts. “She was begging you.”

I know.

He growls this time, and shakes his head at his memory of you. It haunts him.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“So, you’re deciding for her then? Is that it? Honestly, are you listening to yourse-”

“She’s been conditioned to serve.” He cuts her off, voice grave and somber. “Trained to be submissive and please. She likes me simply because I’m kind to her, she wants me because she thinks it’s her obligation as my mate. I feel the pull of the bond too, the need, the yearning. But I also know she is afraid of Alphas and she thinks… she thinks she has to obey me. That she owes me something or that own her.” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need to bond her. I shouldn’t have bonded her. I just… wanted her to be free and instead I chained her to me. And now she’s in heat…”

And it drives him insane.

“Listen to me, we’ve both spent time with her, enough to know she’s opening up and learning to voice her feelings…” Ping reasons gently. “It’s a slow process, don’t hurt her this way. At the very least… go see her.”

“I lost control once with just one kiss from her. I will not do it again. I will not harm her any further.”

The elderly woman keeps silent for a few moments. Zhongli sighs and rests his forehead in his palm in defeat.

And then Ganyu approaches, a little tense, a stack of papers in her hands.

“Your majesty, the Qixing are starting to arrive, council meeting will begin soon.”

“Very well. Thank you Ganyu.” He stands up and nods at her, then turns to Ping and his demeanor softens a little. “You know I just want to correct my mistakes, and give her the life she deserves. At least a fraction of it, of happiness.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way… Zhongli sighed as he walked up to the room where the “reunion” with the sumerian would take place. It was long overdue seeing as he had spent the night by your side, refusing to leave after you had cried and begged so desperately…

After he had bonded you.

He had initially taken the eremite’s claims with a grain of salt, but naturally he had to make sure. The last dragonblood had supposedly died decades ago, so how…?

And yet when he saw you for the first time in that room, he knew.

You were real, you were beautiful. Suddenly he felt a million things at once: He wanted to get to know you, stay close to you, protect you. Old draconic instinct vibrating excitedly on his soul. You smelled vaguely familiar, your tail was gorgeous, your ears adorable. What if you didn’t like him though? What if he harmed you? Scared you? Suddenly he was nervous, nervous of ruining this, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in so long, like when he’d been young and Liyue had been at war and he had lost everything to fire and smoke and dust and he had to make difficult decisions and-

He had always calculated his moves. No room for risks. Too much at stake.

But you, you disarmed him. Completely.

You, with your polite gentleness despite the obvious cracks beneath the surface.

You, with your beautiful looks and enormous potential, even if you didn’t see it yourself.

You, with that look of yearning and hope, with your soft lips and sweet moans, with your warm body fitting perfectly against his.

For once, he allowed himself to make a decision with his heart, not logic, not politics. Just instincts.

And he claimed you…

…

He enters the room. A couple Millelith soldiers stationed by the door, Xiao standing by his side loyally as he sits at his place of honor as the emperor. Your ‘master’, an Alpha eremite named Zaheer, kneels respectfully a little below.

“I see you liked her, your majesty” He offers a sly smirk. “Did she satisfy you properly? She’s been trained on her gag reflexes to-”

Zhongli -Morax- resists the urge to growl. “We are not here to discuss that.”

“Ah, of course, business!”

Business.

“Since she’s such an exotic and well-trained slave I suppose we could agree on…”

“Do you think of me an idiot, Zaheer?” Morax’s eyes narrow.

“P-Pardon me?”

“She is a pureblood xiānshòu. I want to know exactly how she ended up being enslaved by you and your people.”

Cold and calculating golden eyes stare down at the eremite.

“W-What… she’s desert-born!” Zaheer retorts back angrily “She was born at a heat house. Maybe she has traits from your people because one of them decided to get a cheap fuck while traveling.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Morax asks unfazed “Liyue has records of the last of her kind disappearing and presumably being murdered when a village near Sumeru borders was razed to the ground. Do you have a disclosure?”

Zaheer stands up and growls, clearly an Alpha not used to having to bow his head and accept things not going his way.

Clearly an Alpha used to intimidating and attacking others.

Xiao wields his spear and changes his stance to an offensive one. The Millelith guards also tense.

Zaheer gets even more irritated, feeling like a caged animal. Backed into a corner. “Emperor or not” He starts through gritted teeth. “If you’re not going to pay me then I’ll take my merchandise back and do business elsewhere where I’m not being accused of ridiculous claims.”

“You’re right that I won’t be doing any business with you, but we’ll see how ridiculous those claims truly are. Zaheer, by my word as the emperor you will now remain detained in Liyue.” Morax sentences.

The eremite’s red eyes widen in shock and rage and the desert-dweller shoots up to attack Morax, getting easily overpowered and neutralized by Xiao’s quick moves. In seconds his weapon drops to the floor as the Yaksha general points his spear at the unconscious man. The Millelith quickly retrieve him and the blade before Morax simply nods at them.

Months. It had been months since then and he had to begrudgingly release the man as no accusation connected him to anything. They were essentially out of leads. There did appear to be documentation of your birth at a desert village but Zhongli would be hard pressed to believe the half-assed story you’ve been told…

And since you are pureblood, then both of your parents, and most importantly your dam, was also a dragonblood. That’s at the very least one Liyue citizen enslaved in a foreign nation.

He would get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, he had to cast those worries aside.

The Seven members of the council sit around the large table, the Liyue Qixing, leaders of all the commerce and trade sectors of the nation.

Zhongli takes his place at the head of the table. Ganyu does so as well by the sideline.

“Very well, what’s our first topic today?”

“Did Master just… leave?”

There was silence at the table, Zhongli and Ping sit frozen and you get just a bit nervous.

It’d been a few days since you started your new life, and though Zhongli was sure you were warming up to it he knew you still had a long way to go. It was probably still a little surreal for you… such a big change from everything you knew.

The tension on his shoulders quickly drops again. He continues eating. “Yes.” He says simply. Ping follows his lead, saying nothing.

The faster you forget about that eremite, the better.

“Hm…” You continue eating as well. Your expression is a little conflicted…

You inhale.

“Was he… happy… that I finally found a mate?”

Zhongli turns to you sharply and tenses again like a cat bristling. He holds back his tongue so as to not say something he’d regret. Why do you still care about that despicable man’s opinion? Why do you still seek his approval? Did you really think he cared about you? Zhongli desperately wants to make you understand how that slave-owner only saw you as an object, how he fed you lies, how his mistreatment is inexcusable…

But he can only imagine how deep your scars run, and how that toxic mindset has settled and accompanied you for years. He cannot judge you for caring about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Why do you ask, dear?” Ping asks instead.

“I don’t know…” You mumble, poking at the congee with your spoon. “I always wanted to make him proud.”

Proud.

Him?

“I think what matters most is how you feel.” Zhongli says, his hand reaching out for yours invitingly and you place your fingers on his palm, getting a soft reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to rely on how others view you or think about you.”

You seem thoughtful for a second, your ears flickering back insecure but then standing up alert again. “I am happy” You admit. “Very happy. I have the best mate in the world.” You smile brightly.

Zhongli’s heart does a flip.

“With the excessive rains in the northern villages, there have been many floods and a lot of crops have been severely damaged or lost. Our previous contingency plan is in action already and donations are being sent to help the affected families. However, we must prepare for a decline in the harvest of certain grains and vegetables this season, as well as an increase in prices for a few months due to the shift in demand and supply.” Keqing explains expertly, the young alpha’s expression is serious and solemn.

“It’s an opportunity to strengthen commerce with Mondstadt and Sumeru.” Ningguang chimes in, leaning back on her chair, arms crossed. “The value of jade and other crystals is on the rise as well.”

“Not to mention, we’ll be employing several architects from the Akademiya to help with the rebuilding.” Keqing adds, turning to Ganyu, who nods.

“Greater lord Rukkhadevata and lesser Lord Kusanali have agreed on a certain exchange program with Liyue. I started drafting up some proposals already if you’d like to see.” The blue-haired secretary passes along some documents.

Ningguang’s eyes skim along the page. “It’s almost like our new Sumeru-born empress was a sign.” She smirks. “By the way, where is she?” She turns to Zhongli, curious about her fellow Omega.

“She’s rather indisposed at the moment.” The emperor replies dryly, not wanting to delve much onto the touchy subject. “Ganyu this looks good, however we need to think about-”

There is a knock that quickly surprises everyone. Who could interrupt a council meeting and why?

Baizhu peeks in with Changsheng curled around his neck, a frown on his usually gentle features. “Your majesty, a word. It’s an emergency.”

All the members at the table stare silently as Zhongli stands and follows the doctor.

Ganyu has a bad feeling…

“We have no time, follow me.” The green-haired doctor walks briskly along the wooden corridors, he looks… frustrated, dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to panic. He never panics. But something inside him does. It’s obvious that this has to do with you.

“I apologize, your majesty. I thought it was just a case of separation sickness but… the empress is showing signs of widow’s wasting.”

Zhongli stops.

His heart skips a beat. His skin prickles with dread.

“She’s… dying?”

Baizhu shakes his head. “It hasn’t reached that point yet, but… she’s deteriorating.”

The guilt is back. The fear.

“Given what happened, I’m pretty certain the shock of your rejection was the trigger. Still, it is highly unusual for a Yin to suffer from widow’s wasting without their partner actually dying, even more so for it to settle so quickly. Her reaction is akin to someone who had never left their mate’s side for years.” Baizhu explains.

You trusted him.

And he turned his back on you.

What have I done?

“In any casssse, it’ssss not too late.” Changsheng’s little voice pipes in. Baizhu keeps leading the way and Zhongli follows, though he obviously knows the entire palace like the palm of his hand, at the moment his thoughts are scattered and far far away.

“She needs her mate’s reassurance. I have done what I can with medicine but this is a bonded pair matter.” Finally, he stops at a juncture and turns to Zhongli. “Please, your majesty, only you can save her. I will tell Ganyu, Xiao and Ping of the situation, and if you need anything, just ask.”

Zhongli nods, mute.

The snake narrows her eyes. “Don’t leave her sssside.”

“Changsheng.” Baizhu shushes.

She is right to chastise him. He deserves that and more.

“I won’t.” Zhongli nods and heads down the hall.

Widow’s wasting.

The words echo in his head. He’s seen the damage it can do. How a broken bond, the loss of the most important person, can destroy someone inside. Did you really care that much about him? Did he really hurt you that badly?

“Please…”

He didn’t mean to.

“I have the best mate in the world.”

He feels like a monster.

“I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.”

He needs to see you. He needs to make sure you’re ok…

He stands in front of the nest room. The same one where he first met you.

Opening the doors only slightly to slip inside, Zhongli's eyes widen and a hand flies to cover his nose and mouth when a strong smell shakes him to his very core.

The room he expected to be completely saturated with intense heat pheromones… instead bears the acrid scent of despair.

This isn’t the lustful call to breed and have children that made an omega vulnerable and pliant. No. It is a desperate cry from a heartbroken omega for their mate to come back, to stay with them, to love and protect them. It is grief.

You are suffering because of him.

To think all this time… he was afraid he'd make you uncomfortable. That he’d scare you, hurt you, ruin the bond you’ve carefully built. Instead, he is overcome by an all-consuming terror. Every part of him screaming at his mate's weak essence.

And there you are, his precious treasure, his sweet dragoness.

You lay curling in on yourself letting out small muffled sobs.

“Y/n…”

No reaction.

“Darling, my dear dragoness…” He rushes up to you immediately, grabs your hand and pets your hair. You look so weak, your skin is feverish, how has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime…

You shift a little and your eyes blink open, staring at him dazed, red and puffy and your expression defeated. You let out a pitiful whine and more of that bitter sad scent is released.

“No my dear, don’t cry, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Zhongli coos as he curls up to you, frantically starting to scent and nip at your neck and shoulders affectionately. His horns manifest and his tail follows through, lashing about a little restless. The bond… feels wrong, broken. He should be able to intimately feel you this close and yet…

He tries to reposition you a little so you can lie on top of him, rest on his chest. It’s concerning how easily he can do so, you’re like a ragdoll in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. His hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing at the traces of tears in your cheeks. You let out a frustrated whimper. “Shhhh shh it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

Even if he says it a million times, it won’t feel enough.

Zhongli nuzzles at your neck and proceeds to do something he hasn’t done since he was practically a teen. He purrs. It’s a little rusty, comes off more as a grumbling but it seems to work as he feels you relax just slightly in his arms.

“I’m right here” Zhongli’s deep voice assures you, tugging you closer, mouthing at the soft skin along your collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m all yours, I promise, I promise. I won’t leave you alone, not ever.” He soothes.

He lowers a bit of your clothes at the shoulder and grazes his fangs along your faded mark, you tense and let out a long shaky breath.

“Everything will be ok.” He kisses the spot. “I’m sorry.”

And then he sinks his fangs in to reestablish the claim.

You cry out in pain and squirm, clawing at his clothes, but he holds you, his hand rubbing circles at your back, his tail intertwining with yours.

...

.....

...

At first nothing changes, but after a few moments… a low strained purr bubbles up from within you again.

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sturnmeovr · 2 months ago

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♡‧₊˚ Sweetheart!Reader x Babydaddy!Chris - Gender Reveal ˚₊‧♡

Gender Predictions

The sound of intermixing conversations flowed around the room, family and friends filled each seat at the dining table, all mingling as they finished the last of their dinner. Mary Lou and Jim were too excited for their first grandbaby’s arrival, so they jumped at the chance to host your gender reveal at their house, making sure to have everything put together for the special moment. Of course, they wanted to be surprised with the gender of your baby just like everyone else, so they left the cake decorating up to a local bakery. It was a small group that attended your reveal, less than fifteen people.

Keeping your pregnancy a secret from the world had been hard the last few months, but you didn’t want your child around any negativity. The internet was a crazy place and neither of you wanted your child to fall victim to that. Since you and Chris were keeping things private, you two agreed to only tell the people you weren’t able to hide it from.

After everyone finishes their dinner, some leave their plates half finished due to the anticipation boiling in their guts much like it did yours and Chris’. You smooth a hand over your bump, looking to your left to see your mom with a kool aid like smile stretched across her face, “excited, sweetie?” You give her a small, toothless smile, “nervous,” you tell her. You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling all week. Knowing you were about to find out the gender of your baby had your mind spinning and your brain thumping. Your uneasy comment gains Chris’s attention, he looks over at you and places a hand on your thigh, making you turn towards him, “don’t be,” he reassures you once your eyes meet his.

“If everyone would quiet down, Y/n and Chris are ready to cut their cake,” Mary Lou announces to the party guests. The room falls silent as you and Chris stand at the head of the table, a white heart shaped cake was placed in front of you, the white icing piped the words “It’s a ….” in cursive across the top of it. Each family member and friend watched, smiles and looks of anticipation plastered on their faces, a few with phones in their hands ready to capture the special moment. Butterflies dance around in your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as Chris hands you a matching wine glass, “ready, baby?”

Your mind runs wild, not letting you push out a reply, instead you press your lips together and nod your head at him. Chris gives you a reassuring smile, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand, your fingers being intertwined the whole time. “Okay, you guys count us down,” he tells the room full of people. The two of you line your glasses side by side along the edge of the cake, looking the opposite way as the both of you press down, cutting thru each layer of classic white cake and mystery icing. Once you can’t push the wine glass down anymore, indicating you were thru all the layers of the beautifully decorated cake, the room starts to count down, “three… two… one!”

You and Chris spin around in unison, both of you lifting your long-stemmed wine glasses at the same to reveal a white and blue striped pattern. You slap a hand over your mouth out of pure shock as everyone seated around the table cheers along with Chris, “I fucking knew it, I'm having a son!” he shouts out, happiness and excitement laced thru his voice as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a bear hug. Chris squeezes you tight, gently swaying on his feet, rocking the both of you side to side in the process. “A boy!” he exclaims once again before pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead and placing a hand on your growing bump. You couldn’t help but let a bright smile make its way across your lips, “a boy,” you repeat. Your brain runs rampant at the thought of having a mini Chris running around. If your son was anything like his dad, you knew your heart would melt the day you finally met him, much like it did when you met Chris for the first time. Each day made your pregnancy less surreal for you, your gender reveal being one of the most memorable. You were surrounded by so much love and there was no doubt that once your son was here everything would be complete. He would always feel the same love you felt that day, he’d always be surrounded by people who would do anything for him. Knowing your baby would be taken care of and loved in the place of your absence made tears brim your eyes. You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy hormones or if you felt that deeply about the people who attended and put your gender reveal together. One thing you could confirm, though - this was the day of your pregnancy by far.

Wc - 851

An - I made this as blurb because I have a fic for them coming soon! Sorry for everyone who wanted a girl 🫣 I feel like every dad!Matt or dad!Chris fic I read, they have daughters. Nothing wrong with that, I love and find so much inspo from other writers babydaddy fics. I just wanted a bit of a change! Don't worry, Mary Lou will get her granddaughter one day 🥹🫶🏻 Anyways, I hope everyone likes it! (sorry I just love this divider sm. I can't stop using it lol)

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Masterlist of all of my works

Ask me questions or give me suggestions about babydaddy!Chris & sweetheart!Reader!

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @loveparqdise @sweetshuga @emely9274 @frickin-bats @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @delusional-4-fake-people @shadowthesim @immy08 @trevorsgodmother @watercolorskyy @thepubeburgler @courta13 (went back thru all my works and readded a few tags, sorry tumblr wasn't letting me tag half of my taglist for some reason??)

Photo edits and dividers are mine. Feel free to use.

#♡‧₊˚ cheyenne's works #♡‧₊˚ babydaddy!chris #♡‧₊˚ sweetheart!reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo blurb #♡‧₊˚ babydaddy!chris x sweetheart!reader #babydaddy!chris x sweetheart!reader #sweetheart!reader #chris x reader

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hisfavegirl · 10 months ago

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One Mistake - Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader.

Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, angst, mentions of an affair, harsh language, mention of blood, miscarriage.

You looked at your husband with the knife still at his neck, your tears flowing freely. You ignore the screams of your mother and sister asking you to stay away from Aemond, you are really angry now that Aemond has crossed the line.

"What are you waiting for? kill me now” you could see Aemond smile a little and it made your stomach turn, how could he be this calm when there was a knife at his neck?

"You think I can't do it, huh? You're wrong husband, I really can" once again you pressed the knife deep into his neck which you guaranteed might have hurt him because you could see the change in his expression a second ago.

You continued to stare at him sharply and angrily, but suddenly you dropped the knife in your hand. You may be angry and disappointed, but you still love him. he looked at you in shock and you ran out.

You ignored everyone's whispers and stares as you ran towards your chambers, you no longer cared what they said. As soon as you enter your chambers, you throw everything and scream.

You ignore the knock that comes from outside the door, you feel empty, you feel weak, your husband, the person you love has a child with someone else. A bastard, news that you can deny as strongly as possible, but it turns out that today the woman, Alys, brought their son and you saw him. A son that Aemond longed for was in her arms.

Suddenly your world was destroyed, the dreams you had created together with Aemond suddenly collapsed. You kept crying and screaming until your throat felt hoarse, You decided to stay in your chambers, you wouldn't come out to anyone. even your mother and your twin sister.

“My love? can you let me in?” You hear the soft voice of your mother who has been begging you to come in for three days, but you still hold on firmly and don't let her in.

you can hear her breath before she knocks again, “you should at least eat, I'm worried about your health love.” You remained silent, you hadn't even touched the food she brought you yesterday.

when night falls, your mother still continues to persuade you to open the door. This time she was accompanied by your sister, Haelena. “y/n.. please open the door, talk to me” but they noticed that your chambers door was no longer locked.

When they opened the door to your room, your mother screamed hysterically when she saw your current condition. You are lying on the floor with blood coming out from between your legs, there are also bloodstains on your mattress, there are visible tear marks on your cheeks and soft sobs are also coming out of your mouth.

"M- mother.. what happened?" that's all you can ask, Haelena ran out to call the Maester while your mother shouted for Aemond. You slowly closed your eyes making your mother panic even more and suddenly everything went dark.

You lie on the bed, your mother and sister always visit and even accompany you. It's been almost two days since you were unconscious after that incident, the incident where you lost your first child who you didn't even know was growing inside you.

When you find out that you have just had a miscarriage, you feel very useless, you feel broken, and feel empty. you blamed yourself until your mother told the Maester to give you medicine to help you sleep.

You growled as you felt extremely dizzy, you blinked your eyes and looked around you. until your eyes fell on Aemond who was standing near the fireplace, he looked at you with a blank but sharp gaze.

“What are you doing here? I don't want to meet you” you spat at him as he walk closer to your bed. You were shocked when you felt his big hands grip your cheeks roughly, you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

“because of you, I lost my child. because of your stupid and childish attitude, I lost my heir”

You looked at him in disbelief and anger, tears rolling down your cheeks now. You let go of his hand with all the strength you have, you're angry, you're furious. Not only does he blame you but he also doesn't realize that the reason they lost their child was because of him.

“my fault? you blame me?! Don't you think Aemond!? why am I like that? you cheated and got that whore pregnant! you have a child with someone else! and you can still blame this on me?! Are you crazy!?”

you screamed in his face, your breathing was very irregular because you were angry. your eyes are red from crying, you can't understand how he could blame you?

“What?! now you can't talk huh? what I said is a fact! You got her pregnant and hoped I would forgive you because I love you?!? I'm not that stupid! I'm not like Haelena when she found out Aegon had many children from his whore, I'M NOT LIKE HER!”

Aemond just remained silent and continued to stare at you, he had no intention of replying to you and you hated that. you turned your head around when you heard your mother's voice “what is this? y/n darling? why are you screaming? you must rest"

You looked at him and smiled a little, before finally taking the knife that was on the left side of Aemond's body. Aemond was shocked and you pushed his body, he fell unguarded.

"I'm sorry if I was never the best daughter for you mother, I will always love you" before your mother and Aemond could take the knife in your hand, you had already slashed your neck.

Aemond captured your body, you could hear your mother's voice calling all the guards to immediately bring in the Maester. Aemond looked at you in shock and fear, you smiled and gently stroked his cheek. "I hope you are happy Aem, sorry I couldn't be a good wife for you" then your eyes close and slowly your hand fell from his cheek.

“no, no, no! don't you dare close your eyes! y/n! Forgive me! y/n! please come back!” Aemond shouted while hugging your body which was starting to get cold, he cried and whispered sorry repeatedly in your ear. when the Maester came, he told you that you were gone. and that night was the night Aemond lost the only person who truly loved him, you.

tag list - @danytar @looneytun3s @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd @eratosmusings (italic means that i can’t tag you)

#hotd #hotd imagine #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd one shot #aegon ii targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x you #prince aegon targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #alicent hightower #haelena targaryen

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1pepsiboy · 10 months ago

Text

Walking in on You - Matt Sturniolo Smut (request)

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: eating out, riding, profanities, and more...

A/N: Uhm... yeah, this one got away from me. I did not plan for it to be this long, but here we are lmaooo Thanks for the love recently, hope you enjoy this one!!

***

You laughed as you and Matt entered the backstage room.

“Why did you have to mention my biggest fear? You know they’re going to use that against me now.”

Your boyfriend chuckled. “You don’t know that, babe.”

“But you do.” You shot him a look, both eyebrows raised and your lips pressed in a firm line. “They’re going to pull a prank on me.”

His blue eyes looked deeply into yours as a smirk set on his lips and he rested his hands on your shoulders. “They’re not going to, (y/n).”

You rolled your eyes with a small scoff. You turned the TV on and put on HULU, then grabbed your laptop out of your backpack by the couch. Was it an item you should’ve left lying around here? Probably not, but you only left to go eat food after the three did a soundcheck and rehearsal.

“What should we watch?” You asked as you signed into your account.

Matt narrowed his eyes at you and sat down on the couch. “Don’t you have writing to do?”

You thought about it, then shook your head. “Nope.”

“I think you do,” he replied, a little knowingly. “Look, I’ve never been, like, good at getting work done, but you should do it.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Now Matt shoots you a look, similar to yours earlier, but way more sassy. It was sexy the way he crooked one brow and slightly scrunched up his nose.

Once again, you rolled your eyes at him, and removed your shoes. Basically your way of doubling down on the fact you didn’t have work to do. (But you did, definitely did. That paper was due at the end of the week, and it was Tuesday.)

“Matt, watching one episode won’t kill me. How about Rick and Morty?” You clicked on the resume button for Rick and Morty and it began to play the next episode from where you left off.

Matt sighs heavily, being dramatic, and glides a hand through his hair, failing to keep it out of his face. “Yeah, yeah… But after, okay? The agreement was you’d keep up with classes if you came on tour, babe.”

You put your hands up in defense. “Okay.” You smiled and cuddled up next to him to watch your thirty minutes of freedom before homework.

***

You groaned as you saw the ending credits roll and the next episode got ready to play. It was writing time, or maybe not. You had your mind on naughty things since he made that sexy expression.

Matt looked down at you. “Homework time.”

“Or…” You moved to straddle him and lazily draped your arms on his shoulders. “We could make out a little. That always gets the juices flowing.”

He giggled under his breath. “You really don’t want to do it?”

“Hell no. It’s too much thinking, but this isn’t.” You leaned in, closing your eyes, and kissed his lips softly. As your kisses continued, you tangled your fingers in his fluffy collocks and brushed against his covered cock. You released your hair out of its pulled back style as you repeated your slow, pressure intensifying movements.

Your hair slightly fell in your face, but instinctively, Matt brushed it back with his hot hands. You loved his hands. You’d love him to touch every square inch of your body with them.

“I want you,” you breathed, twirling your tongue with his.

In one fairly swift movement, Matt had you lying on your back and he was on top. Your lips smashed together, more feverishly now. His throb rested against your covered heat. You couldn’t stop the small moan from escaping. Fuck, he made you go crazy.

Suddenly, Matt pulled back and he attempted to catch his breath as he shook his head. “You need t- to do homework.”

You scoffed a little. “Matt, for fuck sakes. You’d rather watch me write an essay than fuck me?” You tugged him back down by his sweater and kissed him. “I’d rather fuck first,” you whispered into his ear.

The two of you tug his sweater and tee combo off and brushed your lips together again. Fuck, they melted with yours so easily and tasted so sweet. It helped that he had ice cream for dessert.

Matt’s lips curled into a small smile against yours and, without notice, his hand rested on your heat beneath your jeans. Soft circles from his hand caused your insides to burn. You still wanted skin contact though. When you were going to reach down to take his hand and slip it underneath your lace, he pulled back.

“Matt,” you whined.

He chuckled as he made hot butterfly kisses down your neck. His slight facial hair tickled and you tried not to giggle. He stopped short because of your sweatshirt. He pushed it up and you took the liberty to tug it off from there. Now, Matt continued his kisses as he played with the straps of your tank, revealing the straps to your bra. He placed kisses on your mostly exposed chest.

“Matt, I love your lips, but I’d rather have your hands.”

“You sure about that?” he asked, eyeing your lower area and licked his lips.

You let out a slow, low breath and swallowed hard. “I feel like my answer is irrelevant either way.”

He smirked and his hands found their way to remove your jeans. His face disappeared between your legs, all you could see was his hair. It wasn’t long before there was the sensation of his tongue and lips. Every little flick, lick, and kiss caused your body to shake, and you tried to control your breathing. You didn’t want to come too early and give him that satisfaction. But fuck he was so good and knew exactly how to play with your pussy.

“I… I want you… inside. Not thi- Fuck. Yes… Yes… Matthew!” You reached down to grip his hand that held your hip as your toes curled. You grunted to suppress the urge to moan loudly. All the aches rolled into pleasures.

Matt reappeared, wiping his mouth, and a cocky grin was placed on his face. He moved back up to kiss you on the lips.

“Fuck you.”

He laughed under his breath as he unbuttoned and unzipped his baggy jeans, and then he pushed them down. Your kisses were getting sloppy, but that didn’t matter as you felt him push his tip in. You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him in deeper.

A sweet groan escaped Matt’s lips. “Fuck, baby.”

His skin against yours riveted as your motions worked together. Matt started to speed up, but you shook your head. You breathed, “Keep it slow, baby… Oh, god, keep it slow.”

You moved to sit up so you could ride him and control the grinds more. You whipped your hair back as you kept the pulses going. Your body screamed in the hot flesh. Matt’s hands found their way to your back and unclipped your bra. You let it fall and he pulled you in to place kisses everywhere on your chest; taking more focus on your sensitive nipples. His tongue flicked them and it caused your body to shudder.

It suddenly occurred to you that anyone out in the hallway passing would most likely hear you. At least the sound of the TV drowned you out a little.

You could feel yourself ready to come. You were so close. “Babe, come with me.”

“I’m fucking trying, babe.” Matt laughed under his breath. He seemed to focus more and he lightly moaned as he tilted his head back with his hands on your divots. His rings were going to leave imprints on your sides for sure.

For his benefit, you made your thrust pace a little faster and, instantly, he picked back up. You gripped onto anything you could as pants barely escaped your lips.

“Fuck, (y/n),” he whimpered.

You giggled breathlessly and it was then you both reached your heights. You enclosed him as he stiffened. You felt the lower half of your body shake as aching moans left your hot lips. Your eyes studied each other before you kissed again, and danced your tongues together slowly.

You cradled into him as you sat on his lap, enjoying some small silence and you lightly tangled your fingertips in his messy hair. His fingertips brushed on your shoulders and drew designs.

“I love you, Matt,” you sighed contently, snuggling your head into the crook of his neck. You closed your eyes and hugged your arms. Matt’s arms instinctively wrapped around you and he kissed your forehead.

“I love you too, (y/n).”

The door to the backroom swung open and your eyes cracked wide open. “Don’t come in!”

“Don’t look, bro!” Matt exclaimed, his voice cracking a little. “Get the fuck out!”

“What? Why?” Nick questioned, not pleading to your warning. He took one glance, an immediate disgusted look crossing his face, and yelled, “No. Absolutely not. What the actual FUCK is wrong with you two?” Then he slammed the door shut.

There was another yell, “THE BACKROOM HAS BEEN TAINTED. NO ONE GO IN THERE. I REPEAT, DO NOT GO IN THERE. UNLESS YOU WANT YOUR EYES TO MELT INTO YOUR SOCKETS.”

The two of you gave each other nervous looks and then laughed.

“Should we, like, go after him?” you asked.

Matt kissed the side of your head, then your nose, and then your lips. “No, that was a sign. Homework, babe.”

You made a long, dragged out huff. “Fine.” You got up to put your sweatshirt and panties back on as he also got slightly more decent. Then you pulled your laptop closer to you. “Can I sit on your lap and write?”

Matt giggled and waved you over. “Always, babe.”

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo request #request #smut #a little fluff #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets request #imagine

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beiasluv · 1 year ago

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forbidden fruit pt.2 | charles leclerc

part 1

a/n: i wrote last part at like midnight, apologies for any typos 💀 enjoyy 🤍

‘y/n l/n and charles leclerc. forbidden love, rival or lovers?’

front line mercedes driver, l/n, and the ferrari driver, leclerc, had been seen having a conversation together before the grand prix in italy…

“y/n, question for you please.”

the conference room. same old same old. lewis, you, and george were seated together in front of thousands of lenses, ready to pick each and every length of your skin just to get a piece of information they could sell to the media.

it was the day before the big race in italy, the media was catching their eyes closely at all the drivers - especially you know which two.

“..yes?”

“about the incident after the qualifying round, what had happened with charles?”

the clicking of the pens and the scratching of the notebooks were starting to get you any minute. clearing your throat you grabbed the mic closer to your mouth,

“i’m sure charles meant no harm..we’re racers..erm…rivalry isn’t the furthest thing from us.”

“are you dating charles, y/n?”

alarms were set off in your mind. it would be a crime if george and lewis couldn’t hear them. you were nothing with charles leclerc. he’s the reddest flag of all. really. you were nothing.

"we," clearing your throat and grabbing your mic closer to your dry lips. "we're not talking on any terms."

smile, y/n. smile for the cameras.

"what are your thoughts on the ferrari team this season? any comments?"

the journalist raised his hands through the crowd, his pen almost fell off his lap from the enthusiasm.

"it was always a challenge to race with any team on the track, ferrari included," you nodded. "the ferrari has a strong car, they are one of the many tough contenders. obviously, every team wishes to win...and so does mercedes," glancing a tight smile at the interviewer who took the answer down the notebook. perhaps a little bit too messy for your driver's head to decipher.

"how about when leclerc saved you? any additional comment?"

"i.."

you caught lewis shifting in his seat; his hands started to calm up together in front of the mic, seated between the three drivers and the whole internet. you could only pray your zoning out was missed by the media and you know who.

if only you could express your infinite pain of being the only female in the male-dominant sport, no paper could ever hold just a nick of the feminine rage pregnant inside you.

how come the only question you got asked was about 'charles,' 'men,' 'dating' and never the sophisticated 'performance car racing' or the ones filled with personalities?

george russell, for the record, your biggest shipper, even chipped in. he pushed the mic closer to his face and looked dead into the camera - if looks could kill - "please, this is a mercedes drivers' briefing."

the tension is sky-high, or you could say: rocket-sky-high. george settled back in his seat as you threw him a quick thankful smile. only god knows what the media is going to make up this time.

'george to the rescue'? bullshit.

"lewis, over here please."

"y/n, leclerc's getting aggressive. be careful for an overtake-"

"copy-"

the adrenaline is rushing, flowing, and doing whatever the heck it can in your bloodstream. pushing the pedal as hard as your baby could possibly could, the wind rushed against your face. if it wasn't for the helmet you had on, your face would've been cut like it were a thousand knives thrown at you.

looking to your right you see the infamous red ferrari again, surging with the wind and springing out against the green grass beside the track.

"leave space! you fucking-" you muttered as your fingers tick all the necessary buttons of the formula 1 car in order to keep your position above the ferrari. "what the fuck is he doing!"

praying the car tires could take a bit more, you applied as much pressure you felt comfortable on your baby for the first place behind the checkered end line. you glanced at the body behind the mask of the helmet as you continued to push and pray, push and pray.

if only you knew the ferrari was reciprocating the act.

what was important was you finishing above leclerc - mercedes finishing above ferrari, of course.

"leclerc! y/n! leclerc! who's going to win?! would he complete the overtake?!"

holding on to your steering wheel for your dear life, you saw something of a maroon color rushing to your side. perhaps it was the speed of the car that distorted your vision or was it something in your cheeks?

shut up-

"leclerc! leclerc! leclerc! ferrari have gained another victory home! ladies and gentlemen, charles leclerc!"

"fuck!"

the cracking sound from your radio chimed in your ears - at the worst time possible - "y/n! 0.02 second behind leclerc! P2!"

yeah, thanks. thanks for rubbing it in your face that leclerc had beaten you once again.

"..thanks," slowing your car down against the wind, you came to a halt after the race line; obviously at a considerable distance behind the red ferrari. climbing out and plastering on a fake smile for the media and your beloved fans.

the monégasques national anthem was blasted through the speaker throughout the whole podium. any fan knew this song belonged to any of the leclerc and ferrari, for now.

holding your hands in the comfort of in front of you, you tried to remain calm throughout the whole song. nevertheless, your heartbeat was beating fast for the obvious reason after the race.

the shit-eating grin was plastered on the driver standing on P1. can you even blame him? congratulations, you had beaten your rival for the longest time and were placed on P1 while wearing your infamous red suit.

while you were wearing your notorious mercedes's fire suit on your waist, just like all the drivers on the grid (and charles), you grabbed the champagne bottle as the others did so.

"good one, leclerc.”

you sprayed the champagne straight onto the monégasques’s back, maybe it was a little intentional that you shook the bottle a little harder for more pressure of the liquor.

no hard feelings, of course. you only knew his hair was soaked under the cap on his head and the tingling of the bubbles down his neck.

how unfortunate.

charles smirked back as he aimed his half-empty champagne bottle at you, "it's still not a date."

what.?

seeing you in your stunned state, he lowered the bottle to an acceptable level. leclerc cleared his throat and wiped the foam of champagne off his upper lips and chin; looking back with the biggest annoying grin on his face, "congrats on the podium. next race?"

oh, how you wish you could smack his grin off his mother fucking face again. rubbing it into your face.

the media..the media. breathe in, breathe out.

"will do, 16."

"congratulations on P2,"

toto patted your back as he entered the mercedes's headquarters. how lovely it is to see his drivers bundled up in his room, once again, after a race 'gone wrong.'

"what is it this time," he sighed as he lowered himself to his chair, not ready to be resigning the team principal position for a therapist for his driver.

the room was your comfort zone, safe to say. the picture of toto's kid, susie, and all of his essentials to complete the job for a team principal. crashing into his room with george wasn't an abnormal thing in your team, nor was it the first time of your career with him.

"they kept asking if you're dating charles, huh?" toto grinned as he faked wipe his mouth for the dramatic effect.

"i'm sick of it-"

the environment of the room shifted - for the better, surprisingly. also. did you mention the fact that this room felt more like a therapy session than a team principal's room?

and. wikipedia got it wrong, it was: toto wolff, team principal and CEO of mercedes, and a part-time therapist.

perfect.

"i'm sure we've put on a great fight," toto nodded towards you, the unspoken tension of the media was killing you inside out.

"i'm sick of the media, toto-"

george shifted next to you on the black sofa, "who knows, they're just trying to write a story out of nothing."

"it'll be the death of me if I have to continuously declare my love life on the internet," resting your head back on the back of the couch you did.

the coldness in the room was cleared by a bit as george snaked his arm around the back of the couch, he whispered into your ear, "you don't have a thing for charles..do you?"

"i hate you."

"night, toto. night, george."

bidding toto and george goodbyes, you grabbed your bag from the floor and beeline for the exit door.

the hotel bed is calling your name like a mantra at this point. the race was mentally and physically exhausting, what could be better than a nice, warm bath and a soft bed waiting for you?

the sky was pitch black, darker than your deepest thoughts in solitary, but the pitch was never dark. thanks to the eyes-scorching light to illuminate the track during the night races.

“sup lando..sup daniel”

“good race, l/n.”

walking past a couple of drivers, quick and friendly nods were exchanged as you head for the garage for your beloved mercedes.

and for the love of god, the eyes of the ferrari next to your mercedes were ignited.

how could this get even better?

making your way into the garage, you tried to be as quiet as you possibly could. digging in your purse for the key was a painful ride to ride.

'ah, found it.'

your fingertip dug into the muscle memory as you press the button you hoped was coded with 'unlock.'

fuck.

how gracious of mercedes to make the unlocking sound so loud. so loud that it caught the attention of the ferrari driver. so loud that leclerc's neck flicked towards the sound of your car and you swore you could feel his grin growing.

the second slowed down by a quarter as you seized the handle for the door and swung your bag and body inside the car. perhaps it was not fast enough for the P1 winner today as he made his way next to your car before you could even shut the door. ignoring his steps as he teasingly walked over to his ferrari and played with the key in his hand.

"you put up a great fight for the first place," he grinned. "next time.." he opened his ferrari,

“eyes on the track, l/n.”

"how-...don't you worry about it, leclerc," you scoffed, hiding the beating of your heart. fucking hell- stop beating so fast-

raising his eyebrows in one quick, swift motion, he entered his ferrari, "of course." the driver was fully engulfed by the shadows of the vertical door, but his eyes were still looking into yours, "nice drive today."

"you too."

your phone screen screamed it was 2 in the morning, but who cares? the tiktok on your phone was a little more entertaining than seeing charles off the track - okay, maybe a lot less - but the thing so addicting about tiktok was a life mystery for you.

curling up to your side, your phone was plugged into the wall next to your bed, your hand starting to get numb from holding your phone for too long.

asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. you were going to go mad. for the love of anyone, if you see one more edit of charles leclerc on your fyp, you are going to throw your phone out-

honestly, you wouldn't lie that you enjoy an edit of yours once in a while, but hell, charles leclerc..fucking leclerc...who told him that he can look so fucking fine after a horrible race from the ferrari?

you were almost tempted to slam your phone on the nightstand and get some sleep for the night. also. who cares if you wake up late tomorrow?

knock..knock

"oh, come on," you cursed. the audacity to knock at 2 in the morning?

you swung yourself off the comfort of your hotel bed and tiptoed towards the door of your room. your pajama short and oversized t did not help with providing the necessary warmth.

peaking through the cat-eye, you saw the last thing you were expecting.

charles leclerc, in the flesh. he was leaning one of his arms on your door as he was about to raise his hand for another knock.

"gasly! open the door-"

"have a problem, leclerc?"

gosh, you wished you could take a pic of how terrified he looked. shit. was he looking at the unbearable state of yours, or what? short shorts, oversized t, and your hair-

"y/n- i'm-"

squinting your eyes, you adjusted to the light of the hallway, "gasly's not here."

silence engulfed the air between you like a buffet. he continued to stare blankly at you. gosh- could he stop with his dark, green, eyes- fuck. "…leclerc?"

was it the tension or your ears going deaf - you weren't sure - that made you couldn't even hear his - probably lame - excuse of why he knocked at your door at 2 in the fucking morning.

what did matter was the blabbering of his mouth traveled through one ear and straight to the other, just like an f1 car, speeding on any straight path-

"-i think i'm fucking in love with you"

"charles...don't."

charles stopped - his breathing, his steps, his brain, and whatever he could be conscious of. you started - started leaning onto the door, started clutching the other hand to the door blocking the other half of your heart from his.

"what d'you mean 'don't'?" leclerc's mouth was gaped, letting the least amount of air in to keep his heart beating - for you.

retracting your hand, and the door, away from him; you still found his hand in the comfort of over yours, the one that you held onto the door to not fall onto the wooden floor of your hotel room.

every breath you took was a sharp nick on your lungs, but you've managed to heaped out, "i'm sorry, charles-" just in time before your lungs would betray you.

"why?...why?...please-"

"why? -really? why?"

finally regaining the willpower to look back at him, and not cry, you were greeted with his reddened eyes, "what the fuck do you want with me-?"

"you- you could go around and tell me all these nice things in front of my face and- and god knows what you've been calling me behind my back-"

his grip on your hands tightened as he opened his mouth again, but you cut him short- "it drives me crazy- fucking crazy that you act all so nice to me when we've fought our whole lives against each other."

"...what ever happened to all of your loathing glares when i'm on the podium?"

who cares what the sleeping people, ghosts, or whoever the fuck on this floor hears. you were done with cradling your heart as far away as you could from the pitch. it was stupid. fucking humiliating, at least, that you've found yourself back - back at the start.

all the effort to fight for your place on the grid as the only female driver and all of your effort to carry your dignity above all the scandals came crashing down just for a second of your selfish desires. was it so bad to want love from someone who really cares for you all your life?

dancing, kissing, crying, loving. was it so hard to deny when it is literally in front of your fucking face? under the reddest flag of all.

you wished and prayed every day that the races would be over soon so you could stop seeing his shit-eating grin, his eyes, his remarks, his cologne filling the air whenever he walked past.

charles stood in silence, unmoving, as if the time had stopped. if only you knew he was trying- trying to find the right word to express this weird sensation in his brain, his chest, his fucking heart. they all just ended up tangled in italian, frech, and english. mon amour. my life-

"..is that how you really think of me-" he felt slightly betrayed by his wrong tone, but even more by your thoughts.

"you think- y/n- you think i'm just trying to tick you off the podium?"

"..are you?" wiping the tears that betrayed you and escaped from the comfort of your eyes. "look- look at all the headlines- 'mercedes and ferrari.' is this really the- the condition you want to love under?"

"i'll love you under any condition i want," he breathed shakily as he continued to hold the door of your room open. who cares about the ruffled sheet you left or your phone uncharged by the bed?

"there's nothing between us-"

"you have a girlfriend for fuck's sake!"

"it's a PR relationship! and who cares what the media thinks? i'm not doing ferrari any good by confessing my heart raw to you-"

"you think mercedes is getting anything out of this but rumors? i've fought the press for all my fucking life from the scandals inside the pit-"

"this isn't about mercedes, and this isn't about the goddamn media-”

charles ran his hand through his messed up hair, "and I would have thought you knew that..."

"maybe- maybe i don't. maybe i'm too scared to love again. maybe i'm too scared of what would happen if we ended on a bad note. maybe i'm a coward for not wanting to open my heart for you.

-maybe i'm stupid...for you"

"you're not stupid," he said- decreasing the gap between you two, trying his hardest not to reach to wipe your tears.

"we won't work out," you sighed. "we'll focus on our drives, we'll fight, you'll leave."

"please," charles grabbed your waist and pulled you in, once again - you gave in. "i'll make it work."

all your walls came crumbling down as you broke down like a dam on his shoulder. you buried your face onto his chest and gripped his shirt until you didn't care it would crease. a mantra of apologies came out of charles's mouth that you wouldn't even waste an energy to decipher.

his hands found their natural comfort in your lower back, rubbing in lines of traces and tracks you'd spend the rest of your life trying to decipher.

tucking a piece of your hair behind, he kissed all of your tears away. his mustache which had grown since the karting days grazed your skin like they were made for each other. his cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much like an idiot in front of your hotel room..106.

you were still gripping his shirt hard, as he closed the space between your lips and his. it seemed like all of your walls were crushed to the point of no returning; towering over you, he pressed his body against yours like there was no more- like the last lap of the race.

the level of oxygen in your lungs was starting to set off an alarm in your head, but you didn't care. you were kissing the reddest flag of all in the grid and you were not regretting anything.

pulling away for air, he smiled against your lips; sending a wave of breath onto your chin.

"you have a lot to explain to toto."

"i'll have my ways..."

oh my goodnesss. if you like it, please do whatever you want to, I’ll appreciate it 🫶🏻

today’s a great day to take care of yourself, luvv 🤍

tag: @leclerclvr @buendiabebeta @be-your-coffee-pot @al-luvx

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the-winter-spider · 3 months ago

Text

Invisible | Part 23

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Tiny smidge of brief angst, but flufffff

A/N: Only a few more chapters to go..... 😭🫶🏻

The warm scent of roasted vegetables and garlic filled Sam’s apartment as he moved around the kitchen, Wanda and Natasha chatting at the table. A few candles flickered on the counter, their soft light casting a cozy glow. The night had started lighthearted, with jokes and reminiscing about old times, but there was an underlying tension—Sam had been quieter than usual.

As the three of them sat down to eat, Sam finally cleared his throat, breaking the casual flow of conversation. “So, there’s something I need to tell you both.”

Wanda and Natasha exchanged curious glances, but Natasha was the first to speak. “What’s up?”

Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been offered a big promotion at the VA. It’s… it’s a lot more responsibility, a lot more pay, and honestly, it’s kind of my dream job.”

“That’s amazing!” Wanda said, clapping her hands together. “Congratulations, Sammy! You deserve it.”

Natasha smiled, but her brow furrowed slightly. “That is amazing! Buuuuut, why do you look like someone just told you your dog died?”

Sam let out a nervous laugh, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “Because there’s a catch. The job’s in Washington... I’ll be moving in a week and a half.”

The table fell silent. Wanda’s excitement dimmed slightly, her smile softening. “Oh, Sam… that’s… wow.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s a big change.”

“It is,” Sam admitted. “But it’s the right move for me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but leaving all of you behind? That’s the hard part.”

Wanda reached across the table, placing a hand over his. “We’re happy for you, Sam. Really. We’ll miss you, but this is huge.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll miss you like crazy, but you’ve got to do what’s best for you, and we'll always be here you know that"

Sam smiled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, guys that really means a lot.”

Sam took a sip of his beer, his eyes darting between Wanda and Natasha as if he was working up the nerve to say something else.

“Who else knows?” Wanda asked cutting him off, taking a sip of her beer.

“Well, now that you both know, I should probably let you in on a little secret,” Sam said, his tone teasing but hesitant. “You two are actually the last ones to find out, don't hate me"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “The last ones?” she asked, her voice tinged with mock offense. “Wow, Sam. Save the best for last?”

Sam chuckled. “Exactly. Had to save the best for last, thats right!.... I told Bucky first—obviously…then Y/N, then Steve.”

Wanda leaned forward, smirking. “So, basically, you told everyone else first.”

“Listen,” Sam said, holding his hands up defensively. “I wanted to tell everyone together, but, uh, let’s just say there’s been a lot going on lately.” His gaze flicked to Natasha for a split second before he looked away.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam hesitated, taking another sip of his beer. “Well, I, uh… I heard about what Steve said to her after the whole thing between you two.”

Natasha froze, her expression hardening. “What do you mean? What did Steve say?”

Sam’s lips parted, then closed as he struggled to find the right words. Wanda’s head whipped toward him. “You’re not just gonna leave us hanging, are you?”

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Look, it’s not really my place to say what exactly happened. But… yeah, I heard about it all"

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “We haven’t talked all week. After I told her we, I needed space, we’ve been taking that seriously this time.”

Wanda nodded slowly, her voice soft. “She hasn’t mentioned it to me either. We’ve just been talking about the little trip Bucky planned for them.”

"What trip?" Natasha questioned "I didn't know about a trip"

Wanda sighed "They're at that Cabin you all went to for summer when you were kids, and too be fair you asked for space from her not the other way around, probably why she didn't tell you...."

Natasja groaned rubbing her hands over her eyes. Sam’s gaze softened, his usual teasing edge replaced with concern. “Nat, I think she's been through a lot lately. She didn’t tell me much, but I know she ran into Steve after she left you, and well he said some pretty outta pocket things to her.”

Natasha blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to process his words. “What… what things?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.... But from what I’ve pieced together, She’s been carrying a lot on her shoulders—between the things with you, what Steve said both times, and just… everything.”

Natasha’s expression was unreadable, her eyes distant. After a long pause, she murmured, “I should’ve handled things better. I let my feelings get in the way, and now…”

Sam reached across the table, resting his hand on hers. “Nat, it’s not too late. You and her have been through worse and come out stronger. Just… don’t let this fester for too long”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Start by talking to her. You know she’s always willing to hear you out, you’re besties for a reason”

Sam nodded, his tone firm but kind. “Exactly. You’ve both been through too much together to let something like this tear you apart.”

Natasha exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll try. I just… I didn’t realize how much I let this all spiral. Ugh, thanks guys.”

He gave her a small grin. “Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can’t move away knowing my kids aren’t playing nice.”

Wanda burst into laughter, smacking his arm playfully. “Your kids?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, shrugging with mock seriousness. “I need all my children to get along before I leave. I can’t abandon this dysfunctional little family otherwise.”

Natasha let out a reluctant chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out.”

Sam raised his beer. “That’s all I ask. Now, who’s ready for dessert? I made brownies, and I’m not letting you two leave without trying them.”

As the brownies were passed around the table, the mood lightened, but Sam couldn’t shake the subtle tension radiating from Natasha. He glanced at Wanda, who gave him an encouraging nod, as if silently urging him to address the elephant in the room, the one between him and Wanda, the one Natasha didn't even know about. Wanda only knew because she got here 30 minutes before Natasha and Sam thought who better to ask if he should tell her what he knew than someone who lived with Natasha 24/7 and knew her like the back of her hand.

Sam took a deep breath, setting down his beer. “Hey, Nat,” he started casually, but there was a seriousness to his tone that made her look up. “There’s, uh… something else I think you should know.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, already bracing herself. “What now, Sam? You moving to the moon next?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Nah, this one’s not about me. It’s about Steve.”

Her posture stiffened at the mention of his name, but she tried to play it off. “What about him?”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “When I talked to Steve recently, he mentioned something… about you.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightening. “What exactly did he say?”

Wanda’s gaze darted between them, her brow furrowing with concern. “Sam, don’t dance around it.”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, she told Steve that you’re in love with him.”

Natasha froze, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into a sharp glare. “She what?”

Sam held up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. She didn’t mean anything by it. It just… came out.”

Natasha pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. “Why the hell would she say that? That wasn’t hers to tell.”

Wanda reached out, trying to calm her. “Nat, wait—”

“No, Wanda,” Natasha snapped, pacing the length of the kitchen. “I didn’t want him to know! Not like that. Not—God, why would she do that?”

Sam stood, keeping his voice calm. “Because she thought he deserved to know, Nat. She wasn’t trying to hurt you. She cares about you, and she thought—”

“Thought what?” Natasha interrupted, spinning on her heel to face him. “That I needed her to play matchmaker? That I couldn’t handle my own feelings?”

“Natasha,” Wanda said gently, standing as well. “She didn’t mean to overstep. You know she’s just been trying to keep everyone together.”

Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, she’s doing a great job of it, isn’t she?”

Sam sighed, stepping closer. “Nat, come on. You know her. She’s not trying to make things worse. She’s just… juggling a lot right now. And so are you.”

Natasha shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t even know what to do with this. Steve hasn’t said a damn thing to me about it. Does he know how humiliating that is?”

Sam hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe he’s trying to figure it out... You’ve had feelings for him for years, and he’s been untangling his own mess with her. It’s a lot for everyone.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her emotions warring on her face. After a long moment, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just… I didn’t want him to know like this. It feels so… exposed.”

The tension in the kitchen hung heavy as Natasha paced, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Wanda, seated at the small dining table with her glass of wine, raised her hands to diffuse the brewing storm. “Okay, but to be fair, Nat… you meddled between Bucky and Y/N for years. You practically shoved them together.”

Natasha stopped mid-step, her head snapping toward Wanda. “That’s different.”

Sam, leaning casually against the counter with a brownie in one hand and a beer in the other, raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How exactly is it different?”

Natasha’s jaw tightened, her voice clipped. “Because they were obviously in love with each other. Anyone with eyes could see that. They just needed a push—a little guidance.”

Wanda wasn’t buying it, her expression skeptical. “And what exactly do you think you and Steve are?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s not the same, Wanda. Steve doesn’t…” Her words faltered, the usually sharp edge of her tone softening just slightly. “He doesn’t feel that way about me.”

Wanda sat up straighter, her voice gentler but still firm. “You don’t know that. You’re assuming, just like Y/N assumed with Bucky for years. Maybe it’s not the same, Nat, but… if you’re not even willing to try, how will you ever know?”

Natasha scoffed, clearly uncomfortable, her fingers tapping nervously against the counter. “It’s not about trying, okay? Steve’s not… he’s still hung up on her. Everyone and there pet knows that. I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”

Sam, who had been quiet through most of the exchange, let out a low whistle. “Yikes, this got real heavy, real fast.”

Natasha shot him a look, but Sam raised his brownie defensively. “Hey, I’m just saying. All this angst? It’s like being back in college.”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension breaking slightly. Natasha’s lips twitched, but her frustration still simmered beneath the surface.

Wanda placed a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm. “You have every right to feel the way you do. But maybe this is a chance to finally have that conversation with him. No more guessing, no more waiting.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes glistening slightly. “Yeah, because those conversations always go so well,” she muttered bitterly.

Sam reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Nat, you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks, Dad.”

Wanda smiled softly, her voice teasing. “Hey, he’s just trying to get all his kids on good terms before he leaves.”

That finally earned a small, reluctant smile from Natasha. She looked at Sam, her anger softening. “I’ll figure it out. But if this goes sideways, you’re explaining to Steve why I threw his ass out a window.”

Sam grinned. “Deal.”

Before anyone could say more, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. The door opened, and Steve walked in, looking tired but still managing to offer a small smile. “Hey.”

Sam perked up immediately, pushing off the counter. “Perfect timing Stevie. Brownie or beer?” He held up both as an offering.

Steve chuckled lightly, hanging his jacket by the door. “Why not both?” he replied, running a hand through his hair before stepping into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”

The three of them exchanged a quick glance before Wanda, ever the smooth one, piped up. “Oh, you know. Just solving the world’s problems over alcohol and baked goods.”

Steve’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Natasha, who quickly busied herself with clearing a nonexistent mess on the counter. “You okay?” he asked her directly, his tone quiet and concerned.

Natasha didn’t meet his eyes, her voice brisk. “Fine. Just tired.”

Steve didn’t push, nodding slowly before reaching for the beer Sam had handed him. “Well, I’m gonna chug this beer and devour some brownies, long day.”

As he moved toward the living room, Wanda watched him go, then turned to Natasha. “You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually, you know.”

Natasha shot Wanda a warning look, but her shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned against the counter. “I know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sam, finishing his brownie, clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s my cue. I’ll let you ladies work out all the feelings. Steve and I are gonna dive into this six-pack.” He winked and walked toward the living room, leaving Natasha and Wanda in a lingering silence.

Natasha finally sat down across from Wanda, swirling her glass of wine but not drinking. “I don’t know if I can, Wanda. Talk to him, I mean.”

Wanda tilted her head, her voice soft. “Why not?”

Natasha let out a bitter laugh. “Because I’ve been standing on the sidelines for years. Watching him pine for her, knowing I’d never measure up. How do you even start a conversation after that?”

Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing Natasha’s. “You start by being honest. No more sidelines, Nat. You deserve to be happy too.”

Natasha’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. “Easier said than done.”

Wanda smiled gently. “Yeah, but the best things usually are.”

As they finished dessert, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. Sam stood to start clearing plates, and Natasha leaned back in her chair, glancing over at Steve. “Hey, you mind stepping out to the balcony with me for a second?”

Steve raised an eyebrow but nodded, grabbing his beer before following her outside.

The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the balcony. Natasha leaned against the railing, her arms crossed as she stared out at the skyline.

Steve joined her, standing a few feet away. “What’s on your mind?”

Natasha hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tightly. Finally, she sighed and turned to face him. “Sam told me you know.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “About what?”

She rolled her eyes. “About me, how I feel about you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his expression softening. “So it’s true.”

“Yeah,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “It’s true.”

Steve stepped closer, resting his beer on the railing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter,” Natasha said, her tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “You were always looking at her. Always chasing after her. And I was… I don’t know. Just there.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the floor. “That’s not fair, Nat.”

“No,” she snapped, “what’s not fair is sitting on the sidelines, watching the person you love pine after someone else. Watching them hurt over and over, knowing there’s nothing you can do because they don’t see you that way.”

Steve’s eyes met hers, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Natasha said bitterly. “Because you were too busy looking through me.”

Silence hung heavy between them, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha held up a hand, stopping him.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice softer now. “I just… I needed to say it. For me.”

Steve nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Nat. For not seeing you. For making you feel like you didn’t matter.”

She offered a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you didn’t mean to. But it doesn’t change how it felt.”

Steve reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You matter to me. You always have.”

Natasha shook her head, stepping back. “I can’t do this, Steve. Not right now. You need to figure out what you want—who you are—before you even think about coming back to me.”

Her words hung in the air, final and unwavering. Steve nodded, his heart heavy with regret. “I understand.”

“Good,” Natasha said, her voice steady. “Because I’m not going to wait around forever.”

With that, she turned and walked back inside, leaving Steve alone on the balcony, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He stared out at the city, his mind racing with everything he’d lost and everything he might never have.

The cabin glowed warmly under the soft flicker of candlelight and the crackling fire. The bottle of wine between you and Bucky was nearly empty, the two of you leaning comfortably against the couch on the plush rug. You took a sip from your glass, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, when Bucky suddenly set his glass down and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" you asked

"For loving me, for letting me love you."

You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. "There's nothing and no one i'd rather have than you, Buck."

“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You tilted your head, smiling softly at him. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about what you told me… about Steve. What he said to you. That you shouldn’t be with me, that you should be with him.”

You exhaled slowly, setting your own glass down. “Bucky…”

“It’s been bugging me,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours, vulnerable and searching. “I mean, do you—do you think he really meant that? Or was he just… hurting?”

You reached out and took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “Bucky, I think Steve was hurting. A lot. But there’s no way he really meant it. And even if he did… it wouldn’t matter. You’ve been my person since we were kids.”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “Really?”

You nodded, your voice softening. “Do you remember the first time you tried to push me on the swing? You said, ‘Sit here. I got you.’ Then you fell on your ass and scraped your knee.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I wasn’t exactly smooth, was I?”

“No,” you teased, leaning closer. “But you’ve always been there for me, Buck. Always. I’ve never had a single doubt about that.”

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you. I just… I needed to hear it. With everything that’s been happening—with Steve, and now with Natasha.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. “What do you think is going to happen with them?”

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling you closer so you were tucked under his arm. “I don’t know. Natasha’s tough as nails, but Steve? He’s in his head a lot. They both deserve to be happy, though. Hopefully, they figure it out… together.”

“I hope so too,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. “They both deserve a happy ending.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of the topic settling between you. Then you shifted, sitting up and looking at him. “Speaking of happy endings… Sam told me.”

Bucky blinked. “Told you what?”

“About his promotion, the big move.” You studied his face, waiting for his reaction.

Bucky let out a sigh, his thumb brushing against your hand. “I wanted to tell you, but he asked me not to. I’m sorry—”

“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You don’t get to apologize for that. Sam trusted you with something big. I could never be mad at you for keeping that promise.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s gonna be weird, though. Him being halfway across the country.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “It’s going to be weird for all of us.”

Bucky shifted, his hand gently cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. “We’ll figure it out. Just like we always do.”

You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “You and me, right?”

“Always,” he said softly.

You let the moment linger before a thought struck you. “So… what’s our next step?”

Bucky frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “we’re together, but we’re still living as roommates. Two separate bedrooms, two lives in one space. What do we want to do about that?”

Bucky tilted his head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “What do you want, doll?”

You hesitated, your cheeks warming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “I’d love to get a house someday,” you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Something with a backyard. Maybe even some space for… you know.”

Bucky’s lips quirked into a teasing smile, his blue eyes sparkling. “Kids?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.

“Maybe,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “What about you? Do you… want that?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the way his expression softened made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. The weight of his next words felt like a vow. “A house, a backyard, a family. With you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Your chest tightened, the sheer sincerity in his tone leaving you breathless. But then, his lips twitched into a grin as he added, “But… in New York?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers brushing against his scruffy jaw. “Maybe… Boston?” you offered, the word feeling both foreign and perfect on your tongue.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin widening into something radiant. “I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you,” he said earnestly. Then, his tone shifted, a playful but serious edge creeping in. “But you know, we don’t have to wait.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, tilting your head in question. “What do you mean?”

Bucky’s hands slid to your waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your sides as he leaned closer, his voice low and certain. “I mean, I don’t want to wait to start my life with you—our life. I think we’ve waited long enough. If we both want this, why not now? Time’s never on anyone’s side, and I don’t want to waste another second without having all of this with you.”

Your breath hitched at the raw truth in his words, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. “You really mean that?” you asked, your voice a shaky whisper.

He smiled, his lips brushing softly against yours before he pulled back just enough to answer. “I do. I just want to live my life with you already. So…” His eyes searched yours, his voice dropping to something intimate and vulnerable. “Boston?”

You felt the word settle deep inside you, grounding and exhilarating all at once. “Boston,” you whispered back, nodding as your lips curved into a smile.

Bucky’s grin returned, wide and boyish, and before you could say another word, he cupped your face and kissed you, long and sweet, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with happiness. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I think I have some idea.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one lingering and slow. “Boston,” he murmured again, as if savoring the sound of it. “It’s going to be amazing, doll. Us, a house, a backyard…” His grin turned mischievous. “Maybe even a dog before the kids, huh?”

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly full. “One step at a time, Barnes.”

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