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liliacamethyst · 1 year ago

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Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know, I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.”

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 “Webs of Fate”

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

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hitoshitoshi · 3 months ago

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How to Give Zayne a Blowjob! [Zayne x Fem!Reader 18+]

Summary: You give Zayne the best blowjob of his life. WC: 2.5k Tags: Mentions of Riding and Creampie, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Deepthroat, Intimate and Passionate Sex, Sensitive Zayne, Cum Swallowing, Hair pulling, Gentle Dom Zayne, Body Worship.

Contrary to popular belief, Zayne was a sensitive man ー that is, his entire body, cock included. It was an accumulation of years being in the medical field, constantly being busy and never having time to get laid or even to jack off was why he was always sensitive to your touch. You discovered that Zayne didn't last long in bed during the first time you and him made love together in missionary. The moment that he was buried into your sweet pussy to the hilt, Zayne almost came right then and there inside of you ーoverwhelmed by how good you felt around him.

It was a miracle that Zayne even lasted 7 minutes and 45 seconds, where Zayne was lost in a haze of ecstasy. Every squeeze of your tight pussy sends shocks of pleasure though his body ー feeling every ridge, every cushiony place inside of you, his cock mapping out your entire pussy, memorising it by touch and feeling alone. Zayne himself wasn't the type of man to moan, but he let out a choked gasp of pleasure when he came deep inside of you, letting out shuttered breaths right by your ear.

Ever since then, missionary was not his go-to position since he has a new one. Now, Zayne craves the sight of you on top of him. His breath would catch everytime you sink down on his hard cock, marvelling at how perfect you and your pussy was for him. Zayne found it utterly mesmerising by the way that your thighs would quiver against his hips, the subtle flex of your lower abs as you moved back and forth, lost in your pleasure. Whenever he would see the light hitting your chest, making your chest glow as you rid him, he would always have to resist the urge to sit up and give you hickies all over your chest; it was safe to say that each time, he would always lose to that temptation. That temptation, being you. Zayne's hands would roam all around your body, alternating between feather-like touches, to full on gripping onto you to ground himself to reality. Every gasp, every moan that you made was just so euphoric to him.

Though he rarely voiced it, Zayne loved it when you used him for your pleasure. He was a gentle service dom, doing whatever it takes to make you feel good. He found profound satisfaction in your pleasure, he'd get off to you grinding your pussy on him just to chase your orgasm. Zayne would always look at you with a mix of desire and pure utter adoration. He would always think about how beautiful you looked like this ー all broken and stupid you were because of him, how desperate he made you for him, how lucky he is to have you, and how he wanted to make you feel this good forever.

You wanted to give back to him this time, this time, you wanted to draw out the pleasure for him. You wanted him to savour that feeling of ecstasy. You moved Zayne on your shared bed, arranging him so that he was propped up, a pillow behind his lower back with his upper back leaning against the headboard. You had Zayne's legs spread wide open on each side of you. Zayne's pale skin was flushed with arousal, a light sheen of sweat made him glow underneath the soft light. You glanced down between his muscular thighs, your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock ー a whole 8 inch cock with a 1.6 inch diameter, slightly curved upward with a large vein running down from the tip of his cock to the bottom with a glistening tip ー Zayne's cock was always so pretty to you.

As you lowered your head down between Zayne's spread thighs, your mouth watered at the sight of his hard cock, a bead of pre-cum glistened on top of his pink tip. He twitched under your gaze, seeing that sent you into a small power trip because you did this to him without even touching him. Your fingers trailed lightly along his inner thighs, you felt how his muscles quivered beneath your touch. You glanced up at Zayne though your lashes, a coy smile played on your lips. Cute. Zayne was so so cute. Zayne's ears betrayed himself as it turned a deep shade of red, his own body betraying his stoic exterior for pleasure ー the pleasure you gave him.

As much as you craved the feeling of Zayne’s cock in your mouth, you were determined to savour every moment of this experience, every moment of this experience; starting from his knees, you began a torturously slow journey upwards, your lips trailing over his inner thighs. Each kiss was a whispered promise — a reverent worship of his body. You took your time, memorising every centimetre of his skin with your mouth.

Zayne’s body had responded so beautifully to your teasing; every shudder, every twitch of a muscle beneath your lips was a victory — a map of his most sensitive spots. You could feel the tension coiling within him, his sensitivity being the cause of the downfall of his self composure. Zayne’s voice was breathless and strained; a thrill was sent through you, fueling your desire to push him further. You nipped at his inner thigh, alternating pressure and intensity, leaving a trail of small hickeys in your wake. These marks were your claim on him — reminder of this moment that would linger for days.

The sound of fabric scrunching had filled the air as Zayne’s fingers clenched and unclenched in the sheets; you ran your tongue along each line of his defined muscles, tracing the prominent veins with the tip of your tongue. The taste and scent of his skin, a heady mix of musk and a hint of bergamot from his cologne, was intoxicating.

Zayne’s usual eloquence had deserted him, reduced to gasps with his hips bucking up, wanting your mouth on his aching length. He needed you so badly, it was like an itch in his soul that only you could soothe. You glanced up at Zayne, taking in the sight of the usually composed Chief of surgery coming undone beneath your touch, how he looked absolutely ravished without you even touching his cock. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, a light sheen of sweat making his skin glow in the soft light. In that moment, Zayne had thought you were the loveliest woman he had ever seen — and the cruelest for drawing out his sweet torture.

Your hand grasped Zayne’s thick cock — you couldn’t touch your thumb and middle fingers together around its impressive girth; the velvety skin felt like fire against your palm, pulsing with his rapid heartbeat. You placed a gentle kiss on Zayne’s flushed and leaking tip, his precum coating your lips with a tantalising warmth. As you pull back slightly, a strand of his cum stretched between your lips and his sensitive cockhead. The sight of your lips connected to him in such a lewd way made your pussy throb with need. Zayne’s breath caught sharply in his throat, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control and not take you right then and there as you made a deal with him to let you pleasure him however you liked tonight. You saw the struggle play out across Zayne’s features — his brows furrowed slightly, the muscles in his neck tightened as he swallowed hard as he desperately held back a whimper that threatened to escape; his eyelids fluttered its shadows onto his flushed cheeks. Zayne looked ethereal when he was getting lost in pleasure.

You trailed kisses up and down the underside of Zayne’s cock, tracing each vein with your tongue. When you finally wrapped your lips around the lips around the tip of Zayne’s cock, he let out a heavy sigh as he leaned his head back against the headboard, exposing more of his throat. Zayne’s Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the saliva that pooled in his mouth. A quiet moan escaped you as you sank your head down, taking Zayne deeper into the wet heat of your mouth; the vibrations travelled down his shaft, drawing a miniscule shudder from Zayne that you felt more than saw. The weight of his heavy cock on your tongue, the stretch of your lips around his girth, and his scent was utterly intoxicating. You breathed steadily through your nose as you focused on relaxing your throat as his tip hit the back of your mouth — you wanted to take him even deeper — no, you needed to.

Zayne’s lips parted, releasing soft and quiet, needy breaths that sent your heart racing. Even now, Zayne fought to keep his voice down, but you could hear the strain in each exhale and feel the tension in his body. His hand found its way to the back of your head, his long fingers tangled in your hair; the grip was firm yet gentle. Zayne’s legs widened slightly, unconsciously giving you more access, his body’s eagerness betrayed his mind’s attempt to maintain control.

Your left hand gripped Zyne’s inner thigh, keeping his legs spread wide; the warmth of his skin against your palm was intoxicating, and you could feel the subtle tremors of his muscles beneath your touch. Your right hand moved to cup his balls, gently rolling and massaging them as you continued to work his cock with your mouth. The dual stimulation drew another sharp intake of air from Zayne, his hips jerking involuntarily before he settled down a bit. His fingers tightened in your hair, not quite pulling but holding on as if you were his only anchor to sanity. A bead of sweat trailed down his temple and you saw the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more laboured. The usually stoic doctor was coming undone from your touch, his carefully maintained composure was cracking with each passing moment. A low, inaudible groan escaped him, quickly bitten back but not before you heard it — a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

That sound that Zayne made was your motivation, you needed to hear more of it. You increased the speed of your head bobbing, making sure to relax your throat when you were taking his entire length into your mouth and down your throat, and ensuring that you sucked when you were pulling your head off of Zayne’s cock. You were careful to never pull Zayne out of your mouth too much, always keeping the tip of his cock in your mouth. It was getting messy — real messy — just how you liked it. You could feel his pre-cum hitting the back of your throat as saliva pooled in your mouth, making Zayne’s cock, balls, and thighs glisten in the dim light.

Zayne’s left eye cracked open slightly between soft groans; his touch was gentle as you gave him what you hoped was the best blow job in his entire existance. His fingers trembled slightly as he pushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ears so that he could see your gorgeous eyes. His gaze was half-lidded as he treasured how beautiful you looked in the soft lighting — hair dishevelled, face flushed, your hand playing with his balls, your teary eyes looking up at him, and your nose right up against his trimmed pubes with his cock buried deep in your throat.

The intimacy of the moment was palpable; even though this was an incredibly crude scene, what Zayne focused on instead of the pleasure that he was feeling, but you. The way you were with him, so eager for him, how you felt so much love for him that you’d take time out of your life to make him feel so good, and how you were just unequivocally you. Your heart raced as you saw that glimpse of vulnerability in Zayne’s eyes. His chest heaved with each laboured breath, and you could feel the tension in his thighs as he fought to keep his hips still.

You could sense the building tension in Zayne’s body, his breathing grew more ragged, punctuated by soft, barely audible groans and grunts that came out of his lips. You perked up even more when you saw Zayne’s abs clench — a clear indicator that he was going to cum soon, and that made you really excited as you redoubled your efforts. You hollowed your cheeks and increased the suction as you bobbed your head; your tongue traced patterns along his shaft. Your right hand, still cupping his balls, began a gentle massaging motion — adding to the onslaught of stimulation.

Zayne’s breathing became increasingly erratic, his chest heaved with each laboured breath. His hips began to twitch involuntarily; small, short thrusts that betrayed his waning control. The hand in your hair tightened its grip with a particular sense of urgency to cue you that he was going to cum soon. His cock seemed to swell even further in your mouth, pulsing with his rapid heartbeat; pre-cum flowed more freely now, coating your tongue with its salty and slightly bitter taste. Zayne’s usual composure was long gone, replaced by a man consumed by pleasure. Soft, breathy whimpers, grunts, and groans escaped him. his head was thrown back against the headboard, exposing the long line of his throat; Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard with his lips parted as he panted. Zayne’s face and ears were flushed in a beautiful shade of red.

Suddenly, Zayne’s body went rigid. A strangled grunt escaped him as his orgasm hit; his cock pulsed forcibly in your mouth, spilling his hot cum in your throat in thick spurts. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste of him as wave after wave of pleasure wracked his body. One thing you loved about Zayne’s cum was that there was a lot of it.

Zayne’s fingers tightened in your hair, holding you in place as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel the tremors running through him; hear the quiet, broken grunts and whimpers that he couldn’t quite suppress. You took pleasure in the knowledge that you could only make him feel this way.

As the intensity of his orgasm began to ebb, Zayne’s grip on your hair loosened. His body relaxed, sinking into the bed as his body went limp. You slowly and gently pulled off his softening cock, placing a final, tender kiss on the tip before looking up at him.

Zayne’s eyes were half-lidded and glazed with post-orgasic bliss. A light sheen of sweat covered his flushed skin, making him glisten in the dim light; his chest rose and fell with deep, satisfied breaths. The sight of him being so thoroughly relaxed in pleasure sent a fresh wave of arousal though you that you pushed aside, prioritising Zayne’s needs first.

With gentle hands, Zayne pulled you up into his arms, readjusting both of your positions so that you laid on top of him, still in bed. His thumb brushed across your lower lip as he wiped away a bead of his cum that had escaped. Then, with infinite tenderness, Zayne leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips — a silent thank you, filled with warmth and affection.

A/N: No thoughts, just pure horniness. I just want to pamper Zayne :(( he deserves it the most. The things I'd do for this man if he was real---

If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server.

Click here to join Linkon Lounge!

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logansdoll · 3 months ago

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heat

part two of "cottontail"

CW: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, heavily suggestive, profanity, bunny mutation + spring = fun times, girl imma do my best, this took forever, might be a little long, etc.

As much as he hated to admit it, Logan was worried about you.

In his two-hundred years of living, he had never met someone as hot-headed and brash as you—and that was saying something. But as your you-appointed new best pal, he resigned himself to making sure you didn't piss off the wrong people.

Though it was a nice change of role, seeing as he wasn't the loose canon for once, he couldn't help but begin to grow significantly concerned for your safety.

It wasn't that you were a bad person, far from it, in fact.

Always greeting him with a sweet mornin', Logan!

Always checking up on him after missions.

Always inviting him to "sparring sessions", which would inevitably turn into you two striking up conversation about anything and everything under the sun.

Not to mention you were a humongous flirt—Jean called it being "overly friendly".

She noted that you didn't flirt with any other guys like you did him.

You always gave him those cheeky smiles that seemed to irk him to no end, and put that flirty lilt in your voice when you spoke. Not to mention the constant compliments, which would stick with him for days, sometimes weeks.

But that all stopped about a week ago.

After a day of you acting incredibly off—no jokes, no laughter, little talking—Ororo said you suddenly came down with a "spring cold", but that you'd be up and at 'em soon.

Well, soon hadn't come yet, and Logan hadn't heard anything from you in days.

A spring cold couldn't last this long...

Was it the flu? Was it something else?

And why did everyone else seem so unbothered by it?

These thoughts swam in his head every time he passed your locked door.

Until he finally had enough.

The night everyone went out for a field trip to the county fair, Logan stayed back, opting to visit your quarters with a few choice words, and a container of chicken noodle soup.

When he reached your door, he gave it a soft rap.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

Only after a third—more aggressive—knock, did you finally answer.

"Yeah?" you called, your voice low and croaky.

He'd never heard you sound so defeated, and almost... pained.

It made something pang in his chest.

"That must be some cold," he quipped, attempting to play off the feeling with humor.

"Logan?" you asked, sounding shocked. "What are you... What do you want?"

"I just came to give you some soup. Jean told me it's good," he answered, glancing down at the bag in his hand. "S'been a while since I've heard from you."

He waited for a response, but when you never gave one, he began to feel stupid.

This was a mistake.

"Look, I can just leave it outside the door if you don't wanna—"

"No," you interrupted, still sounding strained. "You can come in. Just leave it on my dresser."

A little confused by your tone, he entered nonetheless, boots clicking against the hardwood.

And what he found was concerning.

Your room was a mess—furniture askew, clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor, a rumpled mess of sheets on the bed.

The smell in the air was thick with sweat and something else. He looked toward the king-sized bed where a heap sat hunched underneath the sheets

"(y/n)?" Logan called, brows furrowed with confusion and worry as he placed the bag on the dresser.

"Don't come over here!"

You sounded so distressed, in such discomfort.

What's going on?

Why did you sound like you were in trouble?

Ignoring your warning, he slowly stalked closer to the bed, taking slow, tentative steps—now able to hear your soft whimpers and grunts of pain.

"(y/n)?" he questioned, firmly.

You stirred, reacting to his voice, breathing raggedly as if you couldn't get any air in your lungs.

"(y/n), what the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Whatever it is, I can help."

But you turned away, the sheets shifting with you.

"You can't," you whined, "You can't."

Patience running thin, Logan stormed over and snatched the sheets off of you. And there, under the covers, he saw you with his own two eyes.

You were curled into yourself, tail significantly fluffier than he remembered, and ears droopier than he'd ever seen.

Through your thin tank top, he could see your nipples were hard and perky, the shorts you were wearing barely covering your ass cheeks.

'Goddamn...'

When you looked at him, your face flushed red, pupils dilated beyond belief as you covered your face with embarrassment.

You trembled in your skin, tail twitching with discomfort and unease.

"I told you not to come over here," you panted, curling further into yourself. "Didn't want you to see me like this..."

You winced, squeezing your thighs together tight, looking to be in complete agony.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm in heat," you sighed, the cat pretty much out of the bag. "S'cause of my mutation. I can do everything a rabbit can, and go through everything a rabbit goes through. No matter how fucking stupid."

You wiped the sweat off your forehead, your curly hair soaked in it.

"S'why I've been hiding," you explained. "I've been tryna get through this, but I just... can't!"

Now he understood.

Your absence, your uneasiness, the smell of something in the air.

You were horny.

"How long's it last?" Logan curiously asked.

"Depends. Could be a week, could be a month..."

"A month?" he stated, surprised. "Are you in pain?"

Your face screwed tight, triggering something in his core.

"Yes," you groaned, hugging yourself closer.

You looked away from him, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pained him.

He had to help.

"What can I do?" he suggested.

You turned to him, eyes widening. "What?" you asked. "What do you—"

"I wanna help you, cottontail," he cut in, already kicking off his boots and taking off his leather jacket to reveal his sexy, white wife-beater. "So tell me what I gotta do."

You watched him, looking completely stunned and mortified, but your pussy throbbed at the sight of his outfit.

"No, no, Logan," you protested. "Y-You can't... you don't need to do this."

But he stood firm in his decision, refusing to leave you.

"I know I don't need to," he firmly responded. "I can't let you go on like this."

"It's okay..." you assured. "It'll probably be done by the end of the week. You don't—"

Before you could even finish, his hand grabbed your face, pulling you close and squeezing your cheeks, his tone demanding.

"Don't protest. Don't argue. Don't push me away... Just let me take care of you, alright?"

His gorgeous brown eyes, filled with the promises of safety and acceptance, bore into yours.

How could you deny him?

"Okay," you caved, leaning into his touch.

"Good girl," he cracked a smile, lips suddenly swooping yours up in a firm kiss.

You let out a soft, eager moan as he scooped you up in his arms, the man letting out a quiet chuckle when you squeaked, your feet dangling off the ground.

While still kissing you, he sat himself down on the bed and plopped you in his lap. His soft lips and tongue made you squirm in his lap, brushing yourself against his quickly hardening cock in his jeans.

"Can I touch your ears?" he whispered, breathless. "'N' your tail?"

Gently, his hand moved down to your ass, caressing your cotton tail. Your toes curled, your body tingling from the sensation.

"Y-Yes," you shakily replied. "Go ahead."

And when his fingers began to lightly brush and stroke your bunny ear from base to tip, you nearly had a full body orgasm, your pussy growing wetter with each pass.

"Fuck..." you gasped. "Yes, just like that..."

Logan smirked as he watched your face contort in pleasure, his ego growing with each whimper.

"Like that?" he asked, teasingly, his cock throbbing at the sound of your pitiful whine in response.

Over these past few months, he'd had countless dreams about having you just like this. And now that he was, he could say with certainty that it was far better than any fantasy.

Gently, one of his big hands slid down between your thighs to pet your pussy through your panties, while the other continued to stroke your ears.

Your mouth fell agape, pleasure coursing through you.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, tilting your head back as his fingers ghosted over your clit.

You began to shamelessly grind your pussy into his fingers, turning Logan on even more.

"Needy little thing..." he chuckled, amused. "Adorable."

Under his firm gaze and insistent fingers, you nearly came apart at the seams. But before you could, he pulled away, scooping you up with one arm, much to your surprise and arousal, and sliding himself further down the bed.

With a grin, he dropped his head into the pillows, shifting and forcing you to hover over his face.

"M'gonna taste you, now," he stated, as if it was a fact.

You whined in response, moving to grab the headboard as he pulled your panties to the side, giving your pussy a quick peck before completely dropping you on top of him.

"Logan!" you half-moaned, half-screamed, eyes blown wide with pleasure.

You tried to brace yourself, but it wasn't long before he made you a writhing, whimpering, whining mess.

"Ah, Lo, yes!" you cried. "Oh, fuck! Right fuckin' there! Right fuckin' there!"

You were loud and vocal, much to his enjoyment.

He was having the time of his life, massaging your ass and sucking your wet pussy, your juices dripping down his chin.

He even groaned and grunted into your pussy about how good you tasted, only making you wetter at seeing such a stoic man lose his shit over you.

"You want a finger, baby?" he growled, voice slightly muffled. "Talk to me. Tell me what chu want."

"Please," you whimpered. "Fuck me, Logan! Make me come!"

Logan smiled, slowly inserting one of his thick fingers into your hole while his lips gently sucked on your clit.

You nearly screamed, bawling at the pleasure.

"Oh, my God!" you sobbed. "Shit, Logan, I'm gonna... I'm gonna.."

Your orgasm slammed into you without a second thought, drawing a string of slutty moans out as you came all over Logan's tongue.

"That's my good girl," he smirked into your pussy. "So fuckin' good f'me."

Your orgasm was so strong that you began to tremble, the aftershocks taking over your body.

The release helped with the pain... but it still wasn't enough.

You needed more.

Suddenly, he took hold of your chin, staring into your eyes as if he could peer right into your head.

"Do you want more?" he asked, cockily.

Slowly, you nodded, tears pricking your eyes at how much to needed this.

"Yes, Logan," you pleaded, your arousal making you bold and unashamed in your need to be fucked. "Please give it to me. I don't care how you take me. Just please..."

That was all he needed to hear.

He gave you exactly what you wanted and more. The man fucked you, and he fucked you good. He gave your little body everything it needed to knock out those horny thoughts and relieve you of your heat.

In almost every position, too.

He fucked you in missionary while standing up, his hips pistoning into yours while your feet dangled in the air, his hands pinning your thighs apart and making you take each deep, long, slow stroke that had you seeing stars and frantically rubbing your clit watching his handsome face contort in pleasure.

He fucked you while standing up, your little body bouncing in his arms as you fucked you up and down on his cock, your arms wrapped tight around his neck, your tits pressed flush against his pecs, and your lips locked with his in a passionate, sloppy, wet kiss.

He fucked you on your side, his big body curled around yours and his cock nestled between your ass cheeks before sliding inside you again, your leg hiked up to get deeper.

He fucked you on all fours, using your ears to pull you back on his cock, your back arched and ass stinging from random spanks while he pounded into the deep, wet heat of your pussy that squeezed and griped him for dear life. When you tried to rub your clit, he smacked it away and rubbed your pussy for you.

“Uh-uh,” he growled. “No touching what’s mine. All you need to do is cum. Can my little bunny do that?”

You didn't even answer—you couldn't. But your loud moans and sobs bouncing off of your walls are all the answers Logan needs as he fucked you faster, harder, making your clit sing and pleasure zip through you.

When you felt your last orgasm of the night zip through you, you let out a broken whimper and came all over Logan's cock.

Triggered by your orgasm and sweet little sounds, Logan gripped you tighter and pounded into you without mercy, until he finally released, too.

“Oh, fuck!” he gasped, his loud groans and grunts echoing throughout the room, triggering another mini-orgasm that made your pussy quiver and drip down your thighs.

Logan came deep inside of you, filling you to the brim. He even had enough to give you on your ass, pulling out to spray your perfect cheeks with more of his seed, pumping his cock furiously behind you.

A smile stretched across your face as the aftershocks began, practically melting into the sheets.

You were sweaty, winded, soaked, tired, and covered in cum...but you’d never been more satisfied or happier in your life.

Logan finally settled down beside you, turning you over to face him. He gave you a small smile, his face hot with stray hairs sticking to his forehead.

“Better now?” he murmured, gently stroking down your back.

You wordlessly nodded, a small, tired hum leaving your lips.

“Good,” he nodded, pressing a kiss into your hair. “Get some rest.”

And just like that, you were out like a light, softly snoring into his chest, your body curled into his side.

You couldn't wait for next spring...

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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roosterforme · 4 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You want a field trip to North Island for your class, and Bradley is determined to deliver. He loves how you decide to show him some gratitude. He'd love it even more if you stayed and never left.

Warnings: Fluff, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley's alarm really pissed him off on Thursday morning. First of all, it went off an hour earlier than it usually did. And second, he had been sound asleep with your body tucked right up against him and his fingers laced with yours. When you began to stir as well, he kissed your ear and started to pull away from you.

"I'm sorry, Baby," he murmured, voice laced with sleep and something intimate that he never remembered treating anyone else to. "Go back to sleep."

You rolled over so you were facing him, and your lips found his immediately. You kissed him softly as your fingers pulled through his hair, and he wanted more than anything to stay here with you all day. "I can't go back to sleep," you whispered. "Not when I get to spend a few extra minutes with you."

In the very short time you and he had been officially in a relationship, he had let himself indulge in the idea that you'd be around forever. That you wouldn't change your mind about him. That you'd love him and let him love you back, like equal partners. And right now all he wanted to do was keep holding you while he also couldn't wait to get to work and try to start sweet talking his superior officers.

"I can't be late today, Gorgeous. Not if I'm going to try my best to make a field trip for your class happen."

Your eyes lit up and you squeaked softly. "You're right. Get the fuck out of here."

He laughed and then groaned. "It shouldn't be sexy when you have a potty mouth." He gave you one long kiss before finally pulling away so he could get ready for work.

"I'll make you breakfast," you whispered, climbing out of bed completely naked before reaching for his discarded sweatshirt on the floor. It was yours now in his mind, and he couldn't wait until it and you were both permanent fixtures in his bedroom. That was going to have to wait a bit though unless you brought it up first. He'd already dropped the idea that he wanted to marry you in front of your class.

"You don't need to make me anything," he said as he started to pull on his clean flight suit, but you were already walking out of the room.

Bradley finished getting ready as quickly as he could in your tiny bathroom, and when he made his way to your equally miniscule kitchen with his overnight bag, you were spreading cream cheese on a bagel and filling a purple travel mug that said #1 Teacher with coffee. "I'll see you tomorrow night?" he asked before taking a bite out of the bagel when you held it up for him.

"I mean... yes, I'll come right to your house from work tomorrow, but you'll see me before that." When he raised an eyebrow while he chewed, you shrugged and added, "I was planning on sending you a dirty picture while I get dressed."

Now both of his eyebrows were raised. "Yeah? How dirty we talking?"

All you said in response was, "I trust you to keep my job intact," before you kissed him and ushered him toward your door with his breakfast. "Go to work, and you'll find out soon. I love you."

"I love you, too, Gorgeous."

He would never get enough of your pretty face. He thought about it while he fought traffic going into San Diego and while crossing the bay bridge toward North Island. This drive sucked, but he'd do it every morning if it meant he got to spend the night in your bed with you. He also wanted to ask you to sleep over at his place during the week so you could test out traffic heading north.

When he finally parked on base, he didn't have to imagine your face any longer. He got to look at it in the picture you sent him twenty minutes ago. Along with your tits. Exchanging photos had always been a huge part of getting to know you while he was deployed, and he was delighted to find that the tradition continued.

"Oh my god," he groaned, needing to sit in his Bronco for a few extra minutes while he enjoyed the photo before ultimately saving it to his phone. Then he texted you back with a smirk before heading to the locker room.

Damn, Gorgeous. What I wouldn't give to spend a week in bed with that face and those tits.

Of course a honeymoon would be the perfect opportunity for that sort of thing. He dropped his bag off in his locker and made his way out to the hangar, running his hand over his face as he tried to push that thought to the back of his mind. As soon as he spotted Maverick, he made a beeline in his direction.

"Rooster," he greeted, barely glancing up from the clipboard he was holding. Bradley knew it was such a longshot, but he had to just go for it at this point.

"Hey, Mav, you have a minute?"He glanced up over his aviators and said, "Always. What can I do for you?" Bradley cleared his throat and tried to make sure he sounded as relaxed as possible. "

I was wondering if a fourth grade class could visit base for a field trip one day? Do a tour of the hangars and the tarmac? Maybe sit in a cockpit? Just an educational trip for some kids who are studying aviation."

There was a brief pause before Maverick asked, "Are you sleeping with a teacher?"

Bradley groaned, head tipped back as he rubbed his eyes and tried not to laugh. "Yeah. She's my girlfriend though, so it's a bit more involved than that."

Maverick sighed. "If I give you special permission for this, then everyone is going to want me to do the same for them. You know that." Bradley started nodding in defeat when Maverick took his sunglasses off and asked, "How many kids are we talking?"

"Eighteen," he replied immediately, straightening his back like he was standing at attention.

"Which school?"

"Mira Mesa Elementary."

Maverick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me see what I can do. Now get your helmet on and get to work."

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

You were finishing your lunch at your desk, about to send Bradley a text, when your phone rang in your hand. He was calling you in the middle of the day which was definitely odd.

"Bradley."

"Hey, Gorgeous," came his voice along with a ton of background noise. "Any chance you can bring your class for a field trip next week?"

Surely you misheard.

"Next week? You already got it approved?"

"Yeah." The deep, raspy rumble of his voice made you shiver. "Next Thursday work for you?"

You were on your feet, doing a little dance as you said, "You got it approved! I'll make it work. I'll type up permission slips right now. I'll call everyone's legal guardian tonight if I have to. We'll be there!"

"Perfect. Email me your complete class list so I can get visitor badges printed."

"Okay," you told him, glancing around like you didn't know where to start. "Right."

"I love you, Baby. Talk later."

He ended the call without another word, and you tucked your phone away before running a lap around your classroom. You wanted to go gloat to all of the other fourth grade teachers, but you wouldn't. You were absolutely certain that this only worked out because you were in a relationship with Bradley, so instead you got to work on the permission slips.

By Friday afternoon, your kids were beyond excited about their upcoming trip to North Island. You had secured eighteen permission slips, three chaperones and a school bus to take everyone down to Coronado next week. But today, you'd be driving there yourself to see Bradley. The traffic after work didn't even bother you as you drove to his house with both your overnight bag and your work bag. You had some quizzes to grade, but he promised you he didn't mind if you brought them along.

When you parked in front of his house, you grabbed your things and ran up to the front door which swung open before you could even knock.

"I just got home," he said with a laugh in his sexy khaki uniform and boots. "I was thinking about giving you a key in case you beat me here one of these days. Oh, shit."

You set your bags down just inside his front door and then had your hands tugging down his pants zipper before you leaned up to kiss him. As you pulled his cock free, you whispered, "I just wanted to thank you again."

You bunched Bradley's shirt up around his abs and dropped to your knees while the front door was still open, and he grunted before quickly closing it. "You don't have to thank me," he rasped as you kissed his cock, and he started to grow hard.

As you ran your nose along his length, you glanced up at him and asked, "You don't want me to give you a blowjob?"

His pupils were wide as he shook his head. "Could you imagine a world in which I didn't want you to give me a blowjob? Because I definitely couldn't."

You laughed and parted your lips. "Then let me say thank you, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

His big hand settled on the back of your head, giving you an eager push, and you took him deep as he groaned, "It's my pleasure, Baby. In so many ways."

He was velvety soft and warm, fully hard now, and you gagged as he bottomed out. You let your tongue glide slowly along his length until you pulled him free, saliva already dripping down to his balls. Then you took a deep breath and let him push you again, bobbing your head as your eyes watered. His balls were heavy in your hand, and your mouth watered more as you thought about tasting him.

When you looked up at his handsome face with your mouth full of his cock, he stroked your cheek with his free hand. "So gorgeous. So perfect." He was flushed pink, and you vaguely thought for a second about how funny it would be if Vanessa showed up right now to see this happening.

You let your hands settle on his hips, and you bobbed your head until he was tapping the back of your throat again. Bradley's sharp gasp just made you go harder, and his fingers digging gently into your hair made you go faster. "Fuck," he whispered, eyes glued on your lips as you let him pop free. You licked a swirl around his tip before going deep and sucking until your cheeks were hollow, and you could feel him throbbing with need.

"I'm really close," he crooned as you squeezed his hip. You listened to him panting as you stroked his balls with your thumb, and then you sputtered when he came. You swallowed him down as you wrapped your fingers around his base and jerked him off until he had his hand braced on the wall for support. Every drop of his cum was swallowed down, and you kissed his cock when he was finished.

"Come here," he whispered, reaching for you before doing anything else, and as you stood, he scooped you into his arms. His lips collided with yours, and you sighed as he tasted himself in your mouth. "That was hot."

Bradley's nose bumped yours as he kissed you harder and started to walk you further into his house. "We could always do it again later," you whispered with a laugh as you ran your fingers along the sheen of sweat along his hairline.

"I have other plans for you for later," he promised, voice deep and dark.

"Tell me," you whispered, but he shook his head.

"You'll find out after I cook dinner."

"Can I have a hint?"

He glanced to the side and nodded as you walked through the living room with him. "Another couch date. Kind of."

"I love couch dates."

"I love you."

Bradley made you a grilled cheese sandwich, and he made two for himself, and you stood in his kitchen with him while you ate and sipped a beer. He didn't even bother to finish zipping up his khakis after tucking himself away, and he kept you in his grasp as he told you all about what he wanted to share with your class during the field trip.

"I can take them on a tour of the hangar," he murmured, kissing your cheek. "Let them listen in on air traffic control. Do you think they'd want to sit in my cockpit?"

"Bradley," you said with a laugh. "Of course they would want to! I want to!"

"Yeah?" he asked, running his mustache along your neck. "Maybe you can sit on my lap in my cockpit? I could show you my throttle."

Your face felt warm as you whispered, "You'll get me a lifetime ban from North Island."

"Can't have that," he said solemnly, shaking his head. "When you're on summer break, I'm going to want you to come visit me at work all the time."

Butterflies erupted in your belly as you pictured yourself in six months. Visiting him at work would be incredible. You could stop by with a coffee like he had done for you, and maybe you could take one for Natasha as well. But you were also thinking about how he casually announced to your class that he intended to marry you in the not so distant future.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and felt the front of his unzipped pants through the fabric of your shirt. "I'm not driving back and forth to Coronado every day during my break, Bradley."

He smiled at you and said, "Understood. You can just spend the night as much as you want. I'm right by the beach, so you can sunbathe all day until I'm done working, and then I'll take you out to Salvatore's or cook dinner for you."

"Or we can just hang out on the couch," you whispered, your lips brushing his.

"Speaking of the couch..."

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

"Harder."

Your voice filled the living room along with your little grunts and moans as Bradley held your hips in place. You were bent over the arm of the couch with your ass up in the air, fingers digging into the cushions while he fucked you. For as sweet as you were, he loved you like this just as much. Loud and needy for him.

The sound of his body slapping against yours was already obscene, but if you wanted it harder, he'd let you have it. He was yours in every sense of the word, and he would make sure you knew it. "Does that feel good?" he crooned, watching your pussy grip his cock. "It looks fantastic," he grunted.

Your response was unintelligible but enthusiastic, so he kept going until he was close and your legs were shaking. The blowjob you gave him earlier seemed to take the edge off, because as soon as he started rubbing soft circles on your clit, you came for him, but he wasn't quite there yet. He slowed his pace down, let himself enjoy the feel of you shaking and squeezing him. He could have probably gone longer, but then you turned and looked up at him over your shoulder.

"That was so good," you said with a shaky voice, "I saw stars."

"Oh hell." He came inside you as you chewed on your lip and looked at him like you'd never get enough. "Come here." You stood with your back pressed against him while he was still buried deep. "You want to snuggle?"

"Always," you whispered as he peppered kisses to your shoulder. And then the two of you ended up on the couch, and it was sweet again as you curled up mostly on top of him while he drew shapes on your palm.

And that's how the whole weekend was. On Saturday, the two of you spent a few windswept hours on the beach, wrapped in a blanket together, talking and laughing. But after the sun set and the sky turned that pretty pretty color that looked both blue and orange at the same time, your lips found his.

"Gorgeous," he groaned, hands on your thighs, feeling your warmth through your jeans.

"I love you," came your immediate response, and Bradley could barely contain himself. He wanted everything with you, but he was afraid of moving any faster than this already pretty blistering pace. But even thinking about the nights this week when he'd have to fall asleep without you and wake up alone were creeping into the back of his mind.

He pressed his forehead to yours and whispered, "I love you too, Gorgeous. And I'm just going to say this one time, and then I'll let you bring it up again if you feel like it."When he paused, you said, "Okay," in a soft voice, and he took a deep breath.

"If we ever reach a point where you think you want to move in with me, that would make me very happy. You already have a key now, but if you want it to be even more permanent, I would love that."

"Oh," you gasped, and he suddenly wished he hadn't said anything about it. "My lease ends in January."

"January," he repeated, like it was a word he was unfamiliar with.

"Mmhmm. In about two months." You kissed his cheek and wrapped his hand up in yours. "That seems reasonable, don't you think?"

Bradley let you push his shoulder playfully until he was laying on his back, and then you were in his arms just like you were on the first date. "Yeah, that seems reasonable," he whispered as the sound of your soft laughter mingled with the crashing waves.

"At least give me a chance to test out the commute to work," you said with a kiss.

"I'm not in a hurry, Gorgeous. I'm just in love."

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

You didn't get home from Bradley's house on Sunday night until almost eleven, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain about it. He helped you grade your quizzes, and he read over your lesson plans like it was a bestselling novel. Then he made you a snack after dinner and went over the plans for the field trip.

"I'll take care of everything this week," he had promised. "I'll get visitor's badges for everyone, and you'll just need to go through the security checkpoints when you arrive. Your kids will have a blast. Just wait until they get to watch Marty work on an engine rebuild."

"The kids are going to lose their minds when they see your Super Hornet," you had promised. "And I will, too. I was already falling for you when you sent me the cockpit photos, and now I'm head over heels."

After that, Bradley carefully folded up your lesson plans and put them in your bag while you tried to hide your smile. And that's why you got home so late. Because the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other for more than a minute.

But it made for a long Monday. And your Tuesday wasn't much better. By Wednesday, even the phone calls and texts with Bradley were barely enough to keep you going. You hated thinking about his next deployment, but it was always at the back of your mind. He wanted you to move in with him, but even his beautiful house in Coronado wouldn't save you from feeling devastatingly lonely the next time he was on an aircraft carrier. Nothing would.

He told you he wanted to drive up and spend the night with you on Wednesday, but he was yawning nonstop over the phone, and you knew he would have to get up earlier if he came up to your apartment. "You sound as exhausted as I feel, and I'm going to see you in the morning anyway," you told him as you curled up in your bed." Actually all nineteen of us are going to see you in the morning."

"I love my pen pals," he said with a laugh. Then he repeated your words from so many weeks ago. "Do you still want me to kiss you as soon as I see you?"

"Bradley," you moaned, rolling onto your side. You were melting, and he wasn't even here. "I always want that."

"Good, because I don't think I could... Oh shit!" he shouted, and it sounded like he dropped his phone.

"What's wrong?" you asked, jolting up in your bed. "Bradley?"

"No, no, no," came his voice, but you could tell he wasn't right next to his phone speaker. He actually sounded scared, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be going on, and then he said, "There's a fucking spider on my bedroom wall!"

"Oh," you replied, letting out the breath you'd been holding.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?! Why aren't you here?!"

"Bradley, just squish it with some paper towels," you told him, trying not to laugh at his panicked voice.

"You want me to take my eyes off this fucking thing to go to the kitchen? I don't think so!"

You pressed your lips together and composed yourself before asking, "How big is it?"

"It's huge! The size of a quarter!" he shouted. "It's moving!"

"Bradley, pick up one of your boots or a shoe and smash it," you told him as calmly as you could. "You can do this."

"Okay. Okay, right. Yeah," he said, and his voice sounded even more distant. "I can do this." There was a terribly loud thump, and then he said, "I hate this so much."

"Is it dead?" you asked cautiously.

"Yeah, but I'm too scared to sleep in here now. What if its family shows up for revenge in the middle of the night?"

You snorted and collapsed back onto your pillow. "That seems a little dramatic."

"Does it?" he asked. "Because this is something you should be taking care of for me. I'll take care of anything else, but this one thing is on you, Baby."

You started to pull your shirt off as you asked, "Would you feel better if I sent you another dirty photo?"

"I would feel a lot better if you sent me a dirty photo," he said, and now you could tell he was smiling.

"Hmm... you think you'll be able to get some sleep if I do?" you asked, tossing your shirt aside.

"A full eight hours."

You held your phone up, smiled sweetly, and snapped a picture. "Let me know when you get it," you said as you texted it to him.

A few seconds later, you giggled as he groaned. "Got it. You look like perfection, and I love adding these to my top secret folder," he muttered. "Thank you."

Now you were yawning as you pulled your sheet up to your chin. "You're welcome. I'll see you in ten hours. I love you."

"Love you, Baby."

-------------------------- You thought you were prepared for the field trip to North Island. You had bus snacks, and responsible chaperones. You had copies of all of the required paperwork that the Navy insisted you fill out ahead of time in a folder. You even had a list of all of your kids for the guard station officer which Bradley reminded you to bring. But nothing could have actually prepared you for the excitement that all nineteen of you clearly felt when the school bus pulled up to the gates with the airstrip directly in front of you.

"Whoa!" said Jayden, trying to hang out the window for a better view. "There's a jet taking off!"

All of your kids scrambled to the right side of the bus to get a better look, and you did too. The aftermath of the takeoff was loud, and you signaled for everyone to cover their ears as they all watched the aircraft soar into the sun.

"Do you think that was Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Nia asked excitedly as your heart raced.

"No," you replied as you watched the jet fly off into the distance. "He said he would meet us after we parked in the visitors lot." When the bus started moving up to the guards, you waved your hand for everyone to sit down again. "But if you're all really well behaved, I'm sure there will be some surprises for us today!"

When it was your turn to talk to the guards, you climbed out of the bus and handed over all of your paperwork. They double and triple checked everything. As they looked at your school ID and driver's license, one of them said, "This location requires top clearances. We hardly ever see field trip groups. Someone on base must really like you."

You thought about Bradley and his kisses and his couch and how he wanted you there to share his bed and always take care of the spiders. "Yeah, that's pretty accurate," you told him with a smile, and he handed you a bundle of lanyards. Hanging from each one was a visitor's pass for each of your students as well as four for you and the chaperones. "Thank you."

Even as you handed each kid their pass and told them they needed to wear them at all times, your heart raced in anticipation. They were all looking back at you with wide-eyed excitement; these were the faces of kids who had learned a lot in your classroom already this year. They were as eager to learn more about aviation today as they were months ago, and you were so happy that Bradley had been a big part of this whole experience.

As the bus driver parked, you saw your boyfriend through the window, standing tall next to the building. He was in his flight suit, and his back was ramrod straight. There were two other officers with him, and they had even more pins on their uniforms than you remembered seeing on his. You needed to reel in your expectations, especially in front of the men who you assumed were Bradley's bosses. But when you smiled, Bradley smiled back. And when you led your students down the steps and over to the sidewalk, his posture relaxed.

"Welcome to North Island," he told your kids with a grin. Then he looped one arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed you in front of everyone. "I can't wait to show you everything."

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

The field trip of my dreams! Okay, so we are definitely going to see Marty at work, but what else should the kids get to experience? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 16

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago

Text

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Male Yandere Human-like Golem x Gender Neutral Human Reader (CW: Noncon, huge dick, golem man, magic, fatal violence towards bandits, spit used as lube, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.8k (Sorry this took forever, was originally going to be a drabble and then kinda got away from me, hope you all enjoy huge dick golem man.)

The small town that you lived in, Somnheim, had been victim to a swathe of horrible luck. Raided by bandits, packs of beasts killing livestock, and enemy soldiers scavenging what they could. Finally the town had enough and sent for a practitioner of the magic arts to aid them in the defense of their village.

This was you.

They didn’t have much but they offered a home and food for your services. You figured you could help them and have a quiet place to conduct your research away from the prying eyes of the council, who liked to hold newer mages under their thumb. It would also just be something nice you could do for your fellow humans, and these folks clearly needed the help.

You didn’t want to stay in this place forever though, so your solution would have to be one that would last long after you were gone.

Given your expertise in summoning and animating the logical choice was a good, old fashioned, golem. A pentagram, some select incense, clay flesh molded to a slate skeleton and imbued with an amethyst heart carrying an artificial soul, some runes carved in, and a scroll inserted that would have him follow his purpose and give him personality.

Then just add in a spell that turned the humanoid clay man into something more human so as not to frighten the villagers too badly and make him able to experience a near human existence.

The ritual was a complete success. Of course it was. You were you after all, young but talented and more importantly utterly dedicated to your craft.

Somnheim now had a mighty protector. An artificial man over 9 feet tall, with huge bulging muscles, shaggy brown hair, stoic brown eyes that gave nothing away, and glowing green runes on his arms and legs. The spell that made him human-like was more than just visual, it gave him nearly all the functions of a human male, he’d be as durable and strong as the hardest metal, never age, and of course he was certainly infertile.

Not one for creative names, you named him Slate.

Eventually bandits came by and decided they would stock up in Somnheim before going on to bigger and better loot.

They did not live to regret that decision.

Slate simply rolled a massive boulder down the hill they approached from and flattened all but a couple. Those he took care of quickly with magically precise throws of average sized stones.

Over the months any threat he couldn’t flatten with a boulder or smack with a stone he would pop open with his mighty fists.

By the end of his first year as the village’s guardian he was beloved by every single townsperson. Even the tiny children, who would climb on him and put flowers in his shaggy hair as he smiled and watched, had no fear of him.

You had enjoyed your time there, but eventually it was time for a change of scenery. You wanted to do more field research and you had saved enough money up with side projects to be able to fund a trip to the other side of the country near The Great Forest.

The villagers were grateful and sad to see you go, but they were much more interested in Slate than you.

But when you packed your bags to leave behind your wattle and daub dwelling once and for all you found yourself blocked by Slate.

He uttered one word in that deep, almost monotone, voice of his.

“No.”

“What do you mean no? I have to leave.” You tried to squeeze past him but he was not having it.

“I must protect the village… Your presence here makes the village safer… I might need repairs… or reinforcements… And you also tasked me with keeping you safe…”

You fudged the wording. You, breather of life into stone, weaver of clay, and creator of souls, messed up the wording.

He picked you up like a box of luggage and sat you on a chair in your makeshift study before going over to the heaviest bookshelf, picking it up, and placing it in front of the only door so you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll move it when I need to leave… then I will put a rock outside to keep you here…”

And that became your life. A literal prisoner in your own home.

Your magical abilities were useless in this situation, you were not a battlemage that could explode a wall, you couldn’t teleport, you bent earth.

Of course you tried to tunnel your way out by making a hole under your bed, but Slate had walked in and caught you red handed. He had confiscated and locked away all your magical supplies and texts unless you needed them to repair him you were not getting them back.

Slate was tentative enough of your physical needs, bringing you food and water and taking you outside like some sort of pet for sunlight, fresh air, and exercise. You had tried to run away but of course he had inhuman speed. And the villagers refused to help. What if Slate refused to save them if they did that?

It was a fair concern, he was made to protect the village and not villagers, he may even see them as a threat if they assisted you. You were on your own.

Though you were healthy enough physically your mental condition was deteriorating rapidly. How could you not be? Being trapped in the same building, even with trips outside, was awful. The villagers only looked at you with pity if they looked at you at all, and no one would even talk to you anymore.

It got to the point where you barely eat, refused to go outside, and spent all your time laying in bed.

Slate was failing the magical directives that governed his personality and behavior. You were clearly not safe, he was convinced that you would die if this continued, and honestly you likely would… eventually…

But the golem was not incapable of learning. He observed the other humans to find out what he could add to your life to bring you back to your usual self.

One night, when he was sitting in front of the house watching the humans passing by and holding hands, he came to the conclusion that humans had families, they lived together in their dwellings and they loved each other. They coupled together and mated.

Up until this point Slate had only been directed by simple emotion and the unyielding parchment that had imbued him with his goals. But now his task demanded something more of him, it demanded a much more complex emotion. The magic in him allowed this evolution, and now he was much more dangerous because he loved you. But it wasn’t just love he felt for the first time, it was lust.

Slate’s expression became one of someone thinking about the one who they adored infinitely, an expression of a man thinking about the person he wanted to have writhing in pleasure beneath him, even his normally green runes and brown eyes took on an amorous pink glow.

When you heard the boulder blocking the door shift and then heard the bookshelf take its place as what was blocking your way out as Slate came lumbering in with his heavy steps you didn’t even glance up.

Not until he stood in front of you and you noticed his strange pink glow replacing his green one did you stir.

You sat up in bed and when you saw the strange way his normally near emotionless eyes were staring at you, and glowing, you scooted away.

“I know what you need now! I am so sorry for not realizing sooner…” He said in a surprisingly soothing tone, a stark departure from his normally deep monotone.

“What do yo-”

Your words were forgotten as he took off his shirt and pants revealing a sweaty body and a frighteningly large cock.

“You need a partner to be happy, like the other humans, and you need to mate!”

He sounded very eager.

“No! Uh… I don’t need to… mate. I need to lea-” he put a large finger over your lips and shushed you before gripping your pants and peeling them and your underwear away from you carefully.

There was no dissuading him from his chosen course of action, he would make you happy and keep you safe no matter what!

It’s what you needed.

Slate leaned forward and spit all over your hole, thoroughly lubing it with his spit, before pressing his big cock into your hole.

It was so large that you let out a whimper of pain at first, but he was somehow knowledgeable enough about sex to know he needed to let you adjust to the size rather than just ramming himself in.

You gasped and writhed but he held you still with his massive hands running up and down your sides as he slowly pulled you down on his prick.

Slate was in complete heaven, he had never really known much pleasure of any kind, let alone the type that came with burying his cock in someone he was now completely obsessed with.

He had no idea his dick could be used for this at all, but now that he did he would certainly be doing this everyday, maybe even a couple times a day! The perfect blend of heat and softness was amazing.

As he began to thrust slowly, with a blissed out expression as he stared up at nothing with drool coming out of his mouth, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure as his cock caressed your depths perfectly.

Hearing your breathy moans snapped him back to reality. You were finally happy again~

The treatment was working! That settled it, he would do this every single day no matter what!

Carefully gripping your sides a bit more firmly he moved your entire body back and forth on his cock. You couldn’t help it, your whole body twitched with the force of a massive orgasm. The sensation of your body spasming around his previously virgin dick caused him to slam in deep and cum hard.

He pulled you close, holding your head into his muscular chest as he panted, his dick still firmly impaling your limp body. You hadn’t been eating much and this serious fucking had taken a lot out of you.

Slate cleaned the two of you up, bathing you gently before taking advantage of your compliant state by spoon feeding you some dinner he had brought from a town person.

Mating with you made you so pleasured and too tired to resist him when he took care of you, he almost couldn’t wait until you had enough energy to do it again, his cock strained in his pants with anticipation.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x gn reader #yandere terato #my ocs #yandere x reader #male yandere #My OC Slate

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ducktoo · 2 months ago

Text

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

13. Active in the…sun?

Note: none, have fun with the fluff

Masterlist here

It started with a simple invitation.

Y/n had been going about his day at the SM building, as usual, when a group of idols—mostly from NCT and EXO—caught him by surprise in the staff lounge. Kai, Taeyong, and Chanyeol casually approached, holding their water bottles and flashing familiar grins. He has been hanging out with them often these days, ever since he gained his fame as the “Sasaeng blocker”.

"Yo, Y/n!" Kai called out, causing Y/n to glance up from his phone. "We’re putting together a soccer match later. You in?"

Y/n blinked, surprised at the invitation. "Eh, me? For soccer? Are you sure, hyung?"

Chanyeol nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! We’ve seen you running around with the girls. You’re in shape, man, and we need more players. Plus, it’s just a friendly game."

"Right," Y/n said, scratching the back of his neck. "But I haven’t played in forever. I’m probably rusty."

Taeyong waved it off. "Doesn’t matter. It’s all for fun. If anything, it’s more funny if some of us messed up. What do you say?"

Before Y/n could even fully process the idea, Giselle and Ningning, who had overheard the conversation from across the room, suddenly popped their heads around the corner.

"Wait, Y/n’s playing soccer?" Giselle asked, her curiosity piqued.

Ningning followed up, grinning. "With NCT and EXO-sunbaenim? You’ve gotta do it, Y/n."

Y/n raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! Fine, I’m in."

Word spread quickly, and by the time Y/n made it back to the practice room with aespa, all four girls were buzzing with excitement. Even Karina, who usually kept her cool, seemed interested.

"You’re really going to play with the others?" Karina asked, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

Y/n nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, but it’s just a casual thing."

Winter, who had been scrolling through her phone, suddenly perked up. "When is it?"

"This afternoon," Y/n replied, glancing at the clock. "I’ll probably head over soon."

Ningning gave him a sly grin. "We’re coming to watch."

“Please don’t.”

Giselle nudged Winter, who had an almost excited gleam in her eye. "It’s not every day we get to see you in action. You better not trip on the field, Y/n."

"I will trip, just to embarrass all of you" he muttered, feeling the weight of their teasing already. But as they all exchanged knowing glances, he could feel something else brewing—especially from Winter. She wasn’t one to normally get worked up about anything athletic, but today, there was a new energy about her.

By the time Y/n arrived at the SM outdoor soccer field, the teams were already warming up. The guys from EXO and NCT were scattered across the field, stretching and kicking the ball around. Y/n could feel the butterflies in his stomach as he walked up, spotting his name on one of the makeshift team lists.

“Casual match, hyung said. Yet there is a full list for each team.” Y/n chuckled. “And holy sht they came.”

And, of course, aespa had already staked out a spot on the sidelines. Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Winter were bundled up in jackets, watching with amusement as Y/n geared up. Winter, in particular, had her eyes glued to him, which only made Y/n more nervous.

Actually, that girl brought a whole cheerleading set. And no, not the cute and girly one. The one hardcore fans wore at a Hatsune Miku concert.

"Good luck!" Ningning called out, waving as Y/n jogged onto the field.

"Yeah, don’t embarrass yourself!" Winter added, her voice filled with playful sarcasm. "Or we're making you eat our cooking."

“You ARE embarrassing! Change your clothes already you hobbit!”

That made Y/n earned a middle finger from Winter, respectfully censored by Karina and Ningning on each side.

The first half of the game was fast-paced. Y/n quickly found his rhythm, darting between players and making some solid passes. He even managed to block a goal attempt from Suho, which earned him a loud cheer from the sidelines. He could hear Ningning and Giselle shouting encouragement, but Winter’s voice stood out the most.

"Go, Y/n!" Winter practically yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos of the game. “Kick them already!!”

Y/n nearly stumbled, distracted by her enthusiasm. He shot a quick glance over to the sidelines, catching Winter’s bright smile and the way her eyes lit up every time he got close to the ball. It wasn’t helping his focus, but it did give him an extra boost of energy.

As the game progressed, the boys were getting more competitive. Kai and Taeyong were neck and neck, their teams pushing harder and harder to score. Y/n was right in the middle of it, doing his best to keep up with the pros.

Then, just as Y/n was preparing to intercept a pass from Jaehyun, he heard Winter again.

"Nice pass, Y/n!" someone from EXO called out, and a cheer erupted from the sidelines.

"Go, Y/n!" Winter’s roar rang out louder than the rest, catching him off guard for a second. He glanced over, noticing her beaming with pride as she cupped her hands around her mouth for emphasis. Karina smirked next to her, nudging Winter playfully, while Ningning and Giselle exchanged knowing looks.

Y/n’s cheeks reddened slightly as he quickly refocused on the game. He hadn’t expected Winter to be so... vocal. It was flattering, but also a little nerve-wracking. His mind wandered briefly—Did she do that for everyone, or was it just him?

The game was going well at first—Y/n had a few decent moments, made some good passes, and even managed to defend against a couple of NCT’s players. But halfway through the second half, things started to take a turn. The score was tied, and tensions were rising.

Then it happened—a missed pass, a perfect opportunity to score slipping through Y/n’s fingers as the ball sailed wide of the goalpost. He could feel his frustration bubbling up. He wasn’t usually one to let things get to him, but this time, something snapped.

"Ah, for f**k’s sake!" Y/n groaned, louder than he intended, as he slapped his hands on his knees in frustration.

The sudden outburst caught the attention of everyone nearby, including the girls on the sidelines.

"Did… did Y/n just curse in front of others and not us?" Karina asked, her eyes wide.

Winter and Ningning burst into laughter. "I think he did!" Winter replied, giggling. "Who knew our idiot could get so worked up?"

Y/n flushed, realising his mistake, but there was no taking it back now. He tried to refocus on the game, ignoring the snickering from the sidelines. Every time he glanced over, Winter was laughing, clearly enjoying his slip-up.

As the game continued, Y/n couldn’t help but notice how Winter’s cheers seemed to get louder every time he touched the ball. Even the other guys started to take notice.

"Looks like you’ve got some serious support there," Doyoung teased as they took a brief break for water.

"Yeah, seems like Winter’s really into it," Taeyong added with a smirk, nudging Y/n’s arm. "Anything you want to tell us?"

Y/n’s face turned crimson as he shook his head. "Nah, she’s just messing with me."

But when he looked back over at aespa, Winter caught his eye and waved, her grin wide and unmistakably mischievous. The other girls were laughing now too, clearly enjoying the spectacle of Y/n’s growing embarrassment.

"Yeah, right," Taeyong chuckled, not buying Y/n’s dismissal for a second. "You’re lucky, man. Most of us barely get a nod of acknowledgment from them, but she’s all about your game."

Y/n coughed awkwardly, trying to shrug it off as no big deal. But the truth was, it was kind of a big deal. Winter had been acting a little differently around him recently, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why the guys were teasing him about it.

As if things couldn’t get more intense, the skies darkened unexpectedly. Large, ominous clouds rolled in, and soon, raindrops began to fall. It started as a light drizzle, but within minutes, it turned into a full-on downpour.

The players on the field exchanged glances, but no one was ready to quit yet. If anything, the rain seemed to energize them. The ball slid across the slick grass, and the once casual game became more competitive.

Y/n, now soaked to the bone, found himself sprinting harder, making riskier plays, and diving for the ball like his life depended on it. The rain blurred his vision, but he kept pushing, determined to make up for his earlier mistake.

The girls were enjoying the intense match even more after the rain. Although, two different conversations were in the same spot.

"Is it just me, or Y/n actually look good in the rain…" Giselle gawked, feeling proud that dragging him to the gym was worth it.

"Oh right, true!" Ningning slapped Giselle's back repeatedly in excitement. "Damn, he's so manly!"

"Knock it off, you two." Karina smacked the cheeky members' head. "You're lucky that girl paid too much attention to the match like a fanatic right now."

The three of them glanced at Winter, whose voice cut through the rain, louder than ever. As if there wasn't anything else in this world at this moment, Winter kept on cheering with all of her might. She kept on waving around her cheerleading sticks, which gave some teasing ammo to the girls who mimicked her.

However, she was fully enjoying the cheer. "Come on, Y/n! Kick their butt!"

Y/n couldn’t help but smile. Her support was somehow both embarrassing and motivating at the same time.

The rain showed no signs of letting up, but the match was nearing its end. With the score still tied, both teams were fighting tooth and nail for the final point. Y/n’s team was on the offensive, and the ball was passed to him just outside the goal box.

"FINAL SHOT!!"

With a slick kick and a satisfying shout, Y/n sent the ball soaring toward the goal. Time seemed to slow down as the goalie dove, hands outstretched, but it was too late. The ball hit the back of the net.

"Goal!" Kai yelled, and the rest of the team rushed over to Y/n, cheering and high-fiving him despite the rain pouring down.

From the sidelines, aespa erupted into applause, with Winter shouting the loudest of all. "Y/n! You ducking did it!"

As Y/n stood there, drenched and exhausted, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. The victory was sweet, but the way Winter looked at him, her face beaming with excitement, made it even sweeter.

With the game over, the rain finally began to ease up. The boys gathered at the edge of the field, dripping with water but laughing and talking excitedly about the match.

"Nice goal, Y/n," Taeyong said, clapping him on the back. "You really pulled through at the end."

"Thanks," Y/n said, still catching his breath. "It was tough, but fun."

The girls approached, still teasing him. "I can’t believe you cursed earlier!" Giselle said, shaking her head with a grin. "Our calm, collected manager, losing his cool on the field."

Ningning laughed. "I wish I’d recorded it!"

Winter, though, was a bit quieter, her smile soft but genuine. "You did great out there," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she caught Y/n’s eye.

"Thanks," he replied, feeling his heart skip a beat. Maybe the rain wasn’t the only reason his cheeks were flushed.

As they all headed back inside, Y/n couldn’t help but steal a few glances at Winter. The rain had brought out something unexpected today—both on the field and off. And maybe, just maybe, things were changing between them even more.

#aespa #aespa x reader #kpop #aespa giselle #aespa karina #aespa ningning #aespa winter #karina #ningning #giselle #aespa x you #aespa x male reader #aeri uchinaga #ning yizhuo #yoo jimin #kim minjeong #x reader

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keri-mcberry · 2 months ago

Note

helloooo I’m really late to the Lyla train but I love her so much already three minutes into scrolling here 😭 💙 and I would love to know as much as I can about her! Personality? Backstory? Favourite breed of dog or cat? Absolutely anything! ☺️

Thank you so much for sending this!! Sorry it took me forever to answer! There was so much I wanted to share, so here goes!

✨ TONS OF ART AND YAPPING BELOW ✨

Background and Personality

Lyla is a muggleborn who lives with her parents, Luis and Ava Estaris, and little brother, Alfred! Her parents run a bookstore in London, and they all live in a small apartment on the second floor. So naturally, she had access to tons of fantasy and adventure books and read them all as she grew up! That's why she views the wizarding world with such wonder and appreciation because it's a dream come true for her!

Luis Estaris

Lyla gets her playful and caring personality from her father, Luis. He encouraged Lyla to pursue her dreams but to never forget what truly mattered - love and kindness. When his children were younger, he always found exciting and fun ways to entertain them, whether it was an impromptu field trip or magic tricks during a rainy afternoon. Lyla was obviously always impressed. Alfred not so much 🤭

Ava Estaris

Lyla gets her talent for duelling from her mother, Ava. At a very young age, Ava taught her the art of fencing. That's why I believe a muggleborn like Lyla would be so skilled at wand duelling without having any experience with magic. I remember watching a Hogwarts Legacy live stream where they described wand duelling as "fencing from a distance", and I LOVED that!

Alfred Estaris

Lyla and her little brother, Alfred, have a close bond, as much as he denies it. She loves addressing him as "Alfie", and only SHE’S allowed to call him that!! 🫵 I based a lot of his personality off of Damian Wayne (my favorite Robin haha) I love how he always tries to appear tough and aloof, but underneath it all, he's still only a child.

Lyla's Familiar

As for her favorite breed of dog? Probably pugs or corgis. Silly little loaves of bread haha. Cats? All of them!! But a familiar that is near and dear to her heart is her Great Horned Owl named Owlfred. She named him after her little brother, Alfred, because they both wear the same exact expression - thoroughly unimpressed with everything and everyone around them lmao. I wanted to include @traceyc-uk's MC with their owl for fun. I've never seen an owl with so much personality and sass. I love it! 🦉 (I wasn’t entirely sure what type of owl she was so I just guessed, sorry!)

If you made it this far, then you're amazing! Thank you so much for sticking around and listening to me yap about Lyla's family! I adore them all so much, and I hope you do too 🥹💕

#asks #posts several pieces of art and disappears once again 🙃#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #lyla estaris #luis estaris #ava estaris #alfred estaris

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hotvintagepoll · 10 months ago

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Propaganda

Clark Gable (Gone With the Wind, It Happened One Night)—There's no proof that Clark Gable stripping in It Happened One Night caused the sale of undershirts to take a nosedive, but there's also no proof that it didn't do that. And either way, him saucily undressing for bed in front of a woman who was married—not to him—is too deliciously scandalous to ignore. He deserves votes for this scene if nothing else. He got an Academy Award for this movie! He could play comedy just as well as drama, he earned medals for his bravery as a bomber gunner in WW2, he competed in car races, he has a great mustache and perfect eyebrows for sexy smirking, he's just HOT.

Sidney Poitier (Lilies of the Field, To Sir With Love)—an unbelievably beautiful man, a complete class act. Something about his eyes breaks my heart every time.

This is round 3 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Clark Gable propaganda:

"Listen, he was "the King of Hollywood" for a reason and a suave motherfucker. Also a Major in the air force during WWII!"

"So Clark Gable was the king of Hollywood for a reason but honestly what makes him hot to me is his relationship with his wife Carole Lombard like if she loved him so she can't be wrong. Their relationship is so tragic like they met first when they filmed No Man of Her Own in 1932 and like there was nothing between them then but in 1936 they met again at a Hollywood party and this time things were different. Basically from that moment on they were inseparable and had to carry out their romance in secret until his divorce was finalized (he was separated when they met again at the party) and then they eloped in 1939 when he had a break during filming Gone With The Wind. They had a 20 acre farm together with horses, cows and chickens and they loved to do all those outdoorsy activities together. When they were apart for various work obligations they would send each other goofy gag gifts. In 1942 Carole was on a trip to sell war defense bonds when on the flight back home her plane crashed in the mountains of Nevada. Her death devastated Gable he flew to Nevada and demanded he be taken to the spot where the plane crashed despite the dangers posed by its location. Amongst the wreckage they found a hair clip he had given her for Christmas. Her death forever changed him he became more reckless and signed up for the US Army Air Corps in 1942 and he kept her bedroom unchanged in their home. He never stopped loving her when he died in 1960 he was buried next to her. I know Clark wasn't a perfect person and their is some speculation that she was racing home on that plane to him because she was worried that he was having an affair or something but relationships are complicated especially ones occurring in 1930s and 1940e Hollywood amongst two of the biggest starts at the time. (I just wanted to include this so ya know I'm not just looking at their relationship as all sunshine but like you can't deny the love they shared)

"They had an ineffable quality in romance, the ability to have fun together... they were soulmates who thought life was delicious, and they made everyone's life delicious around them" -Esther Williams

"GWtW is an epic stretching across years so Clark has a chance to show off a whole bunch of different sides, from Hot Outsider to Husband to Father and so on. But his most attractive is his final line of the movie, made only better by the story that he lobbied the Film Industry to ‘Let Rhett Curse!’ And who is more classic 30s Hollywood than this man?"

"Also apparently his name was Billy Gable then Glark Gable before finally landing on Clark Gable. A fact that I cant forget now glark gable lives in my mind now"

Sidney Poitier propaganda:

#sidney poitier #clark gable #hotvintagepoll #round 3 #fuck that old man!!!#i'd like to present the hottest man of all time: glark

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fayes-fics · 2 years ago

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Mrs Bridgerton

Mrs Bridgerton Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. Your ex-husband craves you in a way you had no idea about until one fateful call...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, explicit language and thoughts, dirty talk, sexting, sex tape, masturbation, pregnancy kink, smidge of breeding kink. Mentions of marriage, divorce, pregnancy, custody, parenting, heartbreak, emotions. Bit angsty maybe? Not sure.

Word Count: 4.3k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill from January here. (tldr summary: ex-husband Benedict can't stop thinking about you) Nonny, I changed up a couple of details of your ask; the porn he watches is your old sex tapes from when you were married. Also, he doesn't call once he was spent; he accidentally calls very much in the act ;) I hope that is okay. Guys, I have no idea what this is; sorry. Thanks to @colettebronte for checking I haven't completely lost it and @eleanor-bradstreet for the gif used above. <3

“Mrs Bridgerton!.... Mrs Bridgerton!” A teacher calls out across the playing field as she jogs towards you. It takes you a few seconds to realise she is indeed addressing you. It's been a couple of years since you went by that name—almost a ghost from the past at this point.

“Ah, actually, it’s Ms y/l/n now,” you correct as she draws closer. “I’m, well, I’m divorced from Emilia’s dad,” you explain somewhat apologetically.

“Oh, I am so very sorry! I'm new here. I just asked her if her parents were here, and she pointed you out.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It's an entirely fair assumption to make,” you placate, shielding your eyes from the sun to catch Emilia's gaze and give her the thumbs up at the end of the grassy running track.

“Well, I just need one of you to sign this permission form for the trip to the Science Museum next week,” the teacher states, thrusting a clipboard towards you.

“Oh certainly, no problem,” you assure, taking the proffered pen and signing on the dotted line she indicates. You know how excited Emilia is about that upcoming trip, even though she insists on going to the museum with you or her father at least once every few months.

“Wonderful, thank you.”

You just nod as another teacher brings them all to the starting line with a blast from their whistle, and your focus shifts entirely to cheering on your five-year-old daughter in her first school race.

-----

He knows you haven't seen him, and he doubts even Emilia has clocked him, wearing a baseball cap pulled low as he is. He deliberately keeps a low profile when you arrive. He is here to see Emilia on her first sports day. Only that. Or so he keeps telling himself.

But then he sees you, and something in his stomach knots hard. It’s been more than two years, and still, every time, it floors him. A few months after your split, he took to using Eloise as the go-between for your shared custody arrangements and has never stopped. Since then, he has not seen you in person, too cowardly to face you. His biggest mistake was letting you go.

You met in your late twenties at a party hosted by mutual friends, and that night, he knew his life would never be the same. Something about the connection was instant and electric. He had the best sex of his life, right there in a spare room of a party. Both drunk and foolish, you didn't use protection. So it was only a few weeks into your burgeoning relationship when you found yourselves staring dumbfounded at a blue and white stick that would alter your lives forever. You married quietly two months later at the town hall, with just a few family members and close friends attending, neither of you wanting a big fuss. It was a big gamble in many ways, but you were both willing to try, crazily in love and filled with a youthful optimism that can be so blinding.

All was well until parenting a newborn drove you both to exhaustion and beyond. A wedge grew between you, even as your beautiful daughter developed into the best miniature version of both of you, with his beauty and your brains. You tried to make it work. But bickering about petty things and distancing became the only constant in your dynamic. Part of him had hoped Emilia would be enough glue to hold you together, but it was too much to pin on a small child. Just after her third birthday, he watched his world crumble as you tearfully packed up your possessions and took the light from his life with you.

And now. Now it's a regret that haunts him every day. Replaying the mistakes he made over and over, the ones that meant you slipped through his fingers. Too preoccupied with his career frustrations and plagued by chronic lack of sleep to realise the damage before it was irreparable. He knows now, too late, that with a little more effort and compromise, perhaps you would still be together as a family. He certainly never stopped loving and desiring you.

So when the teacher calls out Mrs Bridgerton, his heart almost stops beating and, to his shame, there is a stirring in his jeans. God, he wishes that was still your name, so much so there is a bitter taste in his mouth as he watches you correct the teacher in an endearingly accommodating way. A large part of him wants to leap up and grab you, lift you into his arms, beg that you use the name again. His name. But he doesn't; he just lingers in melancholic reverie, recalling with perfect clarity how it felt to push the white gold band shakily onto your left hand as you recited your vows.

Then with a sharp nearby whistle blow signifying the race start, his focus is pulled back to why he is here. His little wonder, the centre of his universe. Emilia Bridgerton. The most beautiful person on the planet.

“Go, Emilia!!” he shouts, transfixed as his little girl moves out ahead of the pack, unthinking of anything but supporting his baby girl.

-----

Your head cuts to the side, and you freeze. You would recognise that voice anywhere. And how many Emilia’s can there be in the race?

He's not looking at you; his whole focus is on the field, but you can't seem to look away. Not even to watch your precious daughter. You haven't seen your ex-husband in more than two years. Using his sister as a go-between just seems like the best way to deal with your residual guilt about leaving him. But now? One look and your insides feel like you are falling down a chasm, lungs suddenly too small for the breaths you need to take.

Time seems to slow like molasses as you observe him. He’s wearing a baseball cap, almost akin to a disguise, but you can see underneath it that profile that still makes your heart flutter. Too much, really, considering you are exes. But his beauty was never the problem; it was part of the reason you always stayed. Those soulful eyes would draw you back every time. Those eyes that now haunt you daily, the Bridgerton genes far too strong not to override all of yours. Emilia is the prettiest little female version of your ex-husband you could ever imagine, and it's both your greatest joy and your greatest pain point, living with a growing reminder of the person who still owns your heart regardless of how much you might wish otherwise.

Looking back now, leaving him was an impetuous decision made from a place of utter exhaustion, not able to see a way out of the treadmill your lives had become at that time. But pride stopped you from admitting perhaps you made a mistake, serving divorce papers before you could think too hard about it. He didn't contest and agreed to all of your terms of custody without a fight. You didn't ask for spousal support; you earned more from employment anyway, most of his income coming from his trust. You never loved him for the Bridgerton name or fortune; in fact, sometimes, it felt like you loved him in spite of it.

And now, one look at him, and you are breathless and in a complete emotional and, yes, physical quagmire. Your body yearning for him, your traitorous brain supplying image after tumbling image of intimacy, the likes of which you have never known before or since—warm bodies wrapped around each other in ecstasy, that velvet voice pleading with you to come with him, for him, always so eager. It makes your chest heave so hard you have to look away to regain composure, doing so just in time for the universe to seemingly return to normal speed, as you watch Emilia cross the line, victorious in her first-ever race.

You cannot help it; you leap up and cheer too. And she looks over, beaming and jumping up and down. Running towards you and throwing herself into your arms as you kneel with a huge grin.

“Mummy mummy mummy!!” she peals excitedly, her breath gusting hard into your ear. “I did it! I won!”

“I know; well done!” you exclaim, rocking her happily in your arms. “You did wonderfully!!!”

“Did I see Daddy?” she asks, craning over your shoulder. You tense and swivel yourself to follow her eye line, but where he was standing just moments ago, there is now just an empty patch of grass.

“Oh, I don't think so, my love; it was probably someone else’s daddy who looks similar,” you suggest, the lie feeling odd on your tongue, It's obvious he doesn't want to be seen, and a part of you is grateful to avoid an awkward meeting. Emilia is still scanning the crowd, unconvinced by your assertion. “How about an ice cream from the van over there?” you offer cheerily, wanting to distract her from looking too hard for him.

“Okay!” she chimes happily, squirrelling a warm little hand into yours and pulling you towards the pedestrian gate.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy a navy blue Jaguar pulling out of the other gate and know without a doubt it was him.

-----

He couldn't do it. He thought he could, but he feels the weight of your stare and has to leave. The minute Emilia crosses the line, he gives a little victory punch and takes off. Not able to face you. So much of him wants to, but the gutless part of him apparently resides in his leg muscles. Before he knows it, he is in his car and pulling out onto the West London streets, not daring to look back. It's not his day to pick up Emilia; that's still two days away. He would not want you angry for overstepping the agreement you have in place.

As he pulls up at a traffic light, his phone pings a match on the dating app Anthony bullied him into downloading last week. The temptation to fling his phone right out the window is strong. The idea of being with someone else, especially after the tumult of seeing you today, just feels wrong.

The only person he has slept with since your divorce was the second biggest mistake of his life. Someone he met at a bar celebrating Colin’s last birthday after too many whiskeys. A close enough facsimile to you that, through the haze of alcohol, he let himself be seduced. The lizard part of his brain somehow convinced it was you, even as she rode him in a way that chafed. Nothing like the way you moved, positively undulated, on his cock. Regret clung to his skin, the fug of hangover already kicking in as he watched her wordlessly re-dress and leave almost immediately, never exchanging numbers. He never saw her again. The fact he called your name as he came was probably the majority of the problem.

The only thing that stops him from flinging the phone is all the history it contains. Pictures of Emilia growing up from a tiny infant to now. But also his text exchanges with you, that increasingly he finds himself scrolling back through on self-indulgent nights, back to when things were good, and you would send each other little notes of love interspersed with sexting that; even now, he can barely read without getting hard. Unable to resist, as he waits for the light to go green, a dozen or more quick thumb flicks upwards on the thread for your previous number, and he finds some of his guilty pleasures.

8 March, 3:25 pm

Y/N: You had better plough me over the kitchen table when you get home xoxox

4 April, 5:02 pm

BB: Tough work day, need you, babe

Y/N: How’s this, daddy?

Y/N: [photo of your naked glowing, slightly rounded pregnant body]

BB: Fucking helllllll, I am one lucky man

Y/N: Come home, fuck me, daddy

BB: You need to stop calling me that…

Y/N: Why? I am literally pregnant with your child.

BB: Yeah, and that’s why it's so wrong…

Y/N: Just get here, pls. I am so fucking wet….

He is pinch-zooming on the photo, head tilted, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth… when a car horn makes him jump, the phone slipping from his grip and falling onto his emergent hard-on.

The traffic light has turned green.

With an apologetic nod in the rearview mirror, he drives off, shaking his head, knowing it’s probably very wrong to be looking at pictures of you, his ex-wife, and wanting to fuck you so bad that his foot leans heavily on the accelerator. His blood pumping hard, already knowing he will be taking himself in hand the minute he gets to his place.

-----

Emilia is happily smushing the cone of her 99 ice cream in her little fist as you walk the few streets to your sister's place, where you left your car earlier. She has kindly agreed to let Emilia stay tonight and have a sleepover with her cousins.

Later, you have your first date since your divorce, and you’ll probably need the rest of the late afternoon to psych yourself up enough to go. You've already cried off so many matchmaking attempts that you had to say yes eventually, just to stop the incessant badgering from all angles. Strangely, this one is Eloise’s doing, and you are still slightly weirded out that your ex-husband’s sister is engineering your first date in more than seven years.

Waving goodbye a few minutes later, you slip into your car and sit for a few deep calming inhales, trying not to think of how much Benedict stole your breath earlier. Some part of you thinks maybe you just imagined him there, a fevered mirage, your subconscious telling you to cancel this stupid date idea and stay home with your two best friends, Ben and Jerry. But then Ameila seemed to think he was there too, and honestly, it feels like you don't know what to do about anything anymore.

-----

He wastes no time, flinging aside the cap, tossing his car keys onto the hallway table and sprinting upstairs to his bedroom, only pausing to insert his noise-cancelling earbuds and discard his clothing.

He is already leaking a little when he throws himself onto the bed and fists his cock with a groan. His other hand is hovering over the play button on the video he definitely knows he shouldn't be watching, hidden in a nondescript folder.

Your soft giggle tickles his eardrums as the video jolts to life. It's one he shot of you on his phone on your honeymoon—it’s one of his favourites lately.

“Bennnnn,” your voice a teasing murmur as the screen fills with a glimpse of your breasts, his hand trying to take a sweeping shot of your body as you writhe underneath him, both of you buried in a soft glow under a tent of sheets wrapped around your bodies.

His own younger self chuckles loud in his ears, behind the camera as he is, both of your breaths loud as the movement becomes more pronounced.

This is him fucking you and filming it. The camera pans down, and there, almost too tough to see in the grainy low light, is his cock surging into you; the shot is never still enough to see in full detail.

Somehow the lack of clarity makes it more of a turn-on. Benedict whines low as his hand moves in a firm motion, jerking hard, losing himself in reminiscence of what it is like to be buried inside you, your scent, younger you panting hard, pleading quietly for him.

His hand speeds up, and he gasps as the video grows more urgent, the noises so loud right in his ear. He can hear the delicious sound of your wet cunt around his shaft, and it's like a sense memory, that viscous heated cling he can never forget.

“Ben, oh god Ben, you are so good, fuck me harder,” younger you moans loudly on the video, and both Benedicts, the old and new, couldn't resist that siren call.

“Y/n, oh god, give me your all, y/n,” Benedict growls, screwing his eyes shut, just relying on the auditory experience of the video now.

But not realising with his slurred speech; it's just given his phone a command…

-----

You are driving towards your place when your hands-free car display lights up with the last name you expect.

Benedict.

Your stomach plunges. Just like earlier when you found yourself staring at him and reimagining so many things you know you shouldn't. You reach over and click the little green button to connect the call, heart in your mouth.

“Ben?” you say his name softly, almost timid. Worried about what it might mean after that strange non-encounter less than an hour ago.

The noise that greets you makes every hair stand on end. It's a throaty groan. He seems to hiss your name, and all you do is frown as your car speakers vibrate with the sound.

“Ben, are you okay?” you check.

“Oh god, I am more than okay, baby,” he growls, and every inch of your body is rioting. “Just please, please don't stop, fuck you feel so good. So tight and hot. I want to live inside you,” the words panted, desperate.

Your foot slips hard on the pedal, and you almost crash into a damn tree.

-----

Your voice sounds different in his ear, and there is a background hum that wasn't there before, but he is so close to something so intoxicating he doesn't think to open his eyes and check the video.

“Talk to me,” he pleads low, knowing you on the video won't respond but somehow still wanting to talk to you regardless, “tell me how you feel.”

There is silence and then a slight shaky exhale.

“Ben.”

“Yes, yes, yes, say my name,” he pleads, leaking over his own knuckle as his hand becomes a frenzy on his cock.

-----

You pull over, quaking. There is only one reason he uses that tone. That's his bedroom voice, and fuck if it doesn't make you as weak now as it did back then. You can only assume his phone has accidentally dialled you while he is what? Masturbating? You flush so hotly at the very thought, and yet you can’t school what you say next. Your treacherous libido taking command of your lips.

“Are you touching yourself for me, Ben?” you breathe, and your clothing suddenly feels too tight, too hot.

Your speakers vibrate your seat as he groans loud and lewdly, and it's a beeline straight for your clit, now throbbing insistently against your car seat.

“Yes baby,” he moans and now, in the background, you can hear it, a slight slapping sound, his cock passing through his fist.

Your pussy clenches instinctually, and you feel a heavy pull, a depth charge of lust. Your lips tingle with the thought of kissing him, running your mouth over his body, wrapping around that cock you remember so well.

“I want you to come for me, Ben,” you plead, a hand straying down between your thighs, scarcely believing what is happening, what you are doing so brazen, parked up on the street mid-afternoon on a Wednesday.

“I will; oh god, I'm going to come so hard,” he snarls. “Do you want it inside you?”

Your fingers glance your clit over your yoga pants, and the heat is overwhelming. “Yes, Ben,” you pant, “inside me, give it to me, give me more of your beautiful babies.”

What you are saying is taboo. And so truthful you don't think to censor it. You would bear as many children as he wants to fuck into you. Still, even now.

“But you are already pregnant with my baby darling,” his voice taking on a softer edge, more wistful, “and you look so, so beautiful.”

You freeze.

“Benedict?” you say quietly.

“Yes, my love,” he purrs.

“Who do you think you are speaking to?” your ask is awkward, screwing your eyes shut, your hand moving away from the apex of your thighs. Suddenly mortified, perhaps it's not you that he thinks he is speaking to after all. Oh shit, did he get someone else pregnant? The panicked bile rises until he sighs the following words.

“Y/n, my wife, my life. God, I miss you so much. I know this must be a fever dream; I know we didn't talk like this in the video, but fuck if it doesn't sound so real,” he ends so wistfully.

“What video?” your question is slow, a weird weight on your chest that is your heart pounding out of control.

“Our honeymoon, darling,” he moans, and you can hear he is still masturbating, although slower-paced now. “When you let me video us fucking. I watch it so much these days that I'm surprised it's not worn out. And yet I can't not; every time I fuck my fist, it's to you.”

“You watch us? Every time you…?” your hand clutching your chest now.

“Yes, my love. I miss you so so much. I should never have let you go. You are my angel, the love of my life, the mother of my child and the only person I ever, ever want to fuck.”

The confession knocks your whole world off its axis. And you crave him. The feeling is so utterly all-consuming you struggle to take your next breath. You have to go to him. You have to see him. It's not even a choice not to. Every fibre of your being needs him.

“Ben,” you murmur, “don't come for me yet; I want to fuck you.”

“You do?” the hope in that gasp makes you lightheaded.

“Yes,” you breathe, “I miss your cock so much.”

You scramble to throw the car into gear and pull out into traffic. You are about a minute's drive away or less if he is home. Something in your movements so very urgent.

“Tell me what you are doing,” you whisper, trying your best to pitch the ask just the right level of seductive as you race down the road, turning into his street.

“I’m fucking my fist,” he moans, “but I wish it were you, my love.”

“I'm almost there,” you pant, pulling into his driveway with almost a squeal of tyres. You grab your phone and jump out of your car, crushing the handset to your ear as you run up to his front door and punch in a code, hoping it's still the one he uses. The crest of victory is palpable as the lock beeps and relents, the door popping open.

“Keep stroking yourself gently,” you order as you close the door and start to disrobe as you bound up the stairs.

“Y/n…” his voice is suddenly tremulant “this…. This isn't a dream, is it?”

“No, Ben, it's not,” you breathe, and you are down to your underwear as you skid into his bedroom, panting.

His eyes are wide with shock as you stride across the room, his cock still in hand and utterly naked; he looks just as delicious as the day you married him.

“Hello, Mr Bridgerton,” you purr.

“Y/n,” he stutters, and it's everything—surprise, desire, hope, relief, yearning and ardent.

“Call me Mrs Bridgerton,” you shoot back, and the responding noise he makes is so utterly feral you almost orgasm without so much as touching him.

-----

Eight months later

“Emilia, not there,” Benedict chuckles good-naturedly.

“Then where daddy?” her pout turns epic as she hands the offending item to him. “You do it!” she huffs.

“Okay, hold still,” he laughs and slides the small tiara into her hair. “See? Just perfect,” he opines, dropping a kiss onto her chestnut tresses.

“I look like a princess!” Emilia exclaims proudly, twisting to look into the mirror.

“Yes, you do,” Benedict concurs. “A pretty princess bridesmaid.”

“The prettiest,” you agree from the doorway, and both heads turn around and greet you with mouths that gape open.

“Oh, Mummy, you look like a real princess!” Emilia gasps, running towards you and giving you a quick hug before skipping out of the room gleefully as her grandmother Violet calls her name from downstairs.

“You look breathtaking,” his tone full of wonderment as he slowly gets to his feet, his eyes never leaving you. “But isn't it bad luck for me to see you like this?” he adds with a flash of concern.

You move towards him, and him towards you, drawn together. “I think we’ve had all the bad luck we are going to have,” you smirk, very much enjoying the sight of him in a sharp, custom-tailored suit. “At least I hope so, seeing as we have this thing to deal with,” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to your five-month bump.

“Thing? Darling, I thought we agreed; his name is Henry,” he sighs in mock indignation, his large hands skating around the swell of your belly, his lips warm on your temple.

“When did I agree to that name?” you frown amiably.

“Last night,” he responds silkily, right into your ear now.

“Oh no, you can’t possibly hold me to that,” you decry. “Anything said when inside me is null and void, Mr Bridgerton; you know I can barely remember my own name at that point.”

His rich chuckle vibrates against your whole body. “Well, let me remind you….”

“I’m listening,” you sigh, eyes closing as you sway into his hot neck kisses.

“It's Mrs Bridgerton,” he rumbles. “Or it will be again in about an hour.”

“I can't wait”, you whisper. “Say it again.”

“Mrs Bridgerton,” A dark, slow tease.

You are almost late for your own (second) wedding just downstairs.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton angst #bridgerton angst #1k notes

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extremedelusions17 · 10 months ago

Text

sunsets and football

l.williamson x reader

again really small fic - 801 words

fluff

a/n: Leah won the poll so here it is, hope you enjoy xx

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

Leah Williamson and you had been inseparable since childhood. You had met when you had kicked a ball through the fence of the old, worn down fence that surrounded the grass field you would play at and someone kicked it back, since then your bond was unbreakable. As the years passed, your friendship evolved into something deeper, a connection that went beyond a simple friendship. Little did younger you know that kicking a soccer ball through a hole in a run down fence would be one of the best mishaps to ever happen to you.

It was now years later on a trip back home that you revisited that field. It was a warm summer evening, the golden hues of the setting sun casting a glow over the soccer field where Leah and you had spent countless hours practicing your skills. The familiar sound of cleats against the grass echoed as you dribbled the ball while she tried to steal it, laughter filling the air.

"Watch out!" Leah called out, attempting to steal the ball from you.

You skillfully maneuvered around her, keeping possession. "Nice try, Lee!"

As the game went on, you guys were panting, caught between the thrill of the competition and the joy of each other's company. After a seriously close play, you both just flopped onto the grass, laughing your hearts out.

"That was intense," Leah gasped, her eyes reflecting the genuine happiness she felt in these moments.

"Yeah, but it's always fun with you," you replied, catching your breath. Leaning on your side, your gaze traced Leah's form, she was still laying on her back watching the sunset.

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant shades of pink and orange. You stole another glance at Leah, her features illuminated by the warm glow. In that moment, it hit you like a tidal wave– your feelings for Leah had evolved into something more than friendship, you liked Leah williamson

Sitting up, you sighed, trying to mask the sudden shift in your emotions. Leah noticed and sat up to, concerned she furrowed her brow. "Hey, what's wrong? What are you thinking about?"

You hesitated, uncertain about whether to share your newfound realization. "It's nothing, just... I appreciate our friendship, you know?"

Leah studied you for a moment, her gaze penetrating. "Are you sure about that?"

Avoiding eye contact, you mumbled out a quick, "Yeah, of course."

But Leah wasn't convinced. With a gentle touch, she turned your face towards hers. "Stop looking at me like you love me," she said, her tone soft yet piercing.

Caught off guard, you felt a flush of embarrassment. "I...I don't know what you're talking about."

Leah chuckled, her thumb brushing against your cheek. "You can't hide anything from me. We've been best friends forever. If there's something on your mind, just tell me."

Taking a deep breath, you met her gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Lee, I think... I think I might be in love with you."

A pause lingered in the air, the weight of the confession sinking in. Leah's eyes softened, and a warm smile graced her lips. "About time you realized that. I love you too, you know? More than just as a friend."

In the quiet pause that followed Leah's heartfelt words, the air between you two felt charged with a mix of emotions. Leah's eyes softened, and a genuine smile played on her lips, easing the weight of the moment. "About time you realized that. I love you too, you know? More than just as a friend."

As the words settled, the atmosphere shifted. It was as if an unspoken agreement wrapped around both of you, drawing you even closer. Without saying anything more, Leah's hand slowly found yours, fingers intertwining wordlessly, a promise of the love that had quietly grown between you.

In that moment, as the surroundings blurred, you both savored the simplicity of a shared glance, lingering in the beauty of a quiet revelation that shifted the course of your lifelong friendship.

Leah's words still hanging in the air, the atmosphere shifted. A shared understanding emerged, a silent agreement that something more was about to unfold. Your eyes met in an unspoken connection, and Leah, sensing the shift, closed the gap between you. Her hand rose gently and cupped your cheek, and the world around you faded into the background as her lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss.

Time seemed to slow down on that soccer field, and in the simplicity of that first kiss, the years of friendship, laughter, and unspoken feelings found a new expression. The soccer field, once witness to your ever growing relationship, now held the memory of a turning point, the beginning of a love story that had been patiently waiting to unfold.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso fluff #woso one shot #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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fashionteahouse · 25 days ago

Text

forever - paul x reader

AN: << request from @milkmarue1227 : Hiii 💕can you do a Paul x reader and they are in high school or college and reader is hyperfeminine also a cheerleader or like a queen bee but she is very sweet and Paul imprints on her and everyone is like super judgmental, because they are both so different but Paul and reader are like so in love and doesn’t care what they say (pls make it fluffy with a little spice)🫶🏼

<< i sure can 💜 hope you enjoy :)

Eyes followed the outfit that was being worn that day. It wasn’t much to pick out of your closet but you received a lot of compliments with people asking you where to purchase. You happily tell them, surprised at the fact that people liked the basic outfit.

Unlocking the small lock, you open the metal door to place your things in and only keep out the books and notebook that you need. Turning to make your way to your class, a bump hits your way and you soon find yourself watching the items that were previously in your arms, fall to the ground.

“Oh, shit.” you hear a strong male voice say. Before you could bend down to grab them, he quickly swoops them up and hands them back to you. “Sorry.” he tells you.

Meeting his eyes, you faintly tell him, “Thank you.” It was Paul Lahote. He barely came to classes these days but for some reason, him standing in front of you, bubbled up warmth and happiness and excitement all throughout your body.

He turns to walk away and you found yourself blushing. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, a good friend of yours starts to walk by your side.

“Did you get everything?” they ask you.

You nod.

“Are you going to cheerleading practice today?”

“Of course.” you say.

Walking to go into your class, you see Paul being scolded at an adult. You hear a faint voice tell him, “Your absences are going to hinder you.” Paul let his eyes wander, letting the professor’s words go through one ear out the other. His eyes find yours again and you almost trip on your feet with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

In the field outside, you go over the routine that’s supposed to be displayed at the next sports game. As you all are warming up and stretching, you catch Paul walking out of the football field, angry expression clear as day on his face.

The sun glistened his skin, the sweat making it shine as his muscles moved about, while he was on his journey. You almost drooled at the sight. A voice snaps you out of your fantasy land.

“No way, you’re checking out Paul Lahote.” someone you were acquaintances with, comments to you in a hushed tone.

“I was just looking around. And if I was, what’s so bad about it.” you tell them innocently.

Even the blind could see that the guy oozed desirability. You found yourself hoping he desired you back.

“You’re joking right? He’s social suicide.” they exclaim and laugh.

With a day of hard work out of the way, you walk to the dining hall and find Paul getting food. You hurry up and get into the line that he’s most likely going to get in, making sure you’re in front of him.

When it’s your turn to scan your food card, you tell the dining hall cashier, “Put his food on me.”

You don’t wander off the scene too quickly. Slowly grabbing the plastic utensils, you hear Paul trying to pay but was met with, “She already paid for your food.”

Walking out you hear, “Hey.” call out to you.

You turn around, to see the gorgeous god standing in front of you.

“Hey.” you politely say and give him a small smile.

“Thank you for paying. You didn’t have to do that.”

You look down for a second before asking him, “What if I wanted to pay for it?”

You both sit together and eat. Stares are burning on both of you but you both don’t care. With Paul, it was easy not to care. No matter what people said, he still carried his confidence.

“It’s nice to see your face around here. You barely come anymore.” you tell him as he scoops his food into his mouth.

While he chews, he wonders if he should tell you. He makes his mind up when he realizes the beautiful girl in front of him, blessed by the spirits, was his imprint.

“I have a lot going on. They’re threatening to kick me off the team.”

“Why? Is it grades?” you ask him, genuinely concerned.

He nods but shrugs, “It’s not like I’m going to finish out school anyway.” he mutters.

“I can help you, Paul. I would be happy to help you out.” you tell him and he takes a look at your face. The look makes your body feel like jelly.

“It’s okay.”

You put a hand on his hand, “Please?”

He looks at your hand, relishing the softness of your skin on his.

You both spent a lot of time at the university’s library. You found him very funny. You kept trying to get him to focus but your ribs were tender from laughing at his effortless humor.

Looks from other guys let you know that they were jealous. Guys you knew who were smart, started coming to you for help on their work. You played them off to the side, seeing through their plans.

“Be careful, Y/N. The guy is a dumpster fire and you shouldn’t be the gasoline.” you listen to your roommate one night.

“People don’t even know the guy. Quit being so hard on him.” you tell them.

They tsk and shake their head, “Just trying to look out for you.”

You turn from your side and lie on your back to watch the ceiling.

With Christmas break coming, work was piling up. You felt like you weren’t going to be able to go home for the holidays.

You hear a knock on your dorm door. You open it to find Paul. Your roommate was at her own class while you were using your space to study.

“You weren’t in the library.” he says and sits in your roommate’s desk chair.

You gesture to the open laptop with papers, “I’ve been drowning. Sorry.” you say apologetically.

“Are you going home for break?”

“Doubt it. Plus, my family’s on vacation anyway.” you tell him.

“If you don’t have plans, I can take you to Christmas dinner.”

You agree. There was no way you were turning that down.

One weekend as you were going Christmas shopping, watching the snow fall, you spot Paul in a shop.

“Hey stranger.” you tell him and interrupts his focus on a display.

It seemed like the day after he visited your dorm room, he stopped coming to classes.

“Hey.” he replies sheepishly, you were a bit concerned, he never showed any signs of nervousness.

“What’s going on? Are you avoiding me or something?” you ask him and tease, trying to keep the air light.

“No, I’m not avoiding you,” he says and chuckles and looks down, “I’m on academic suspension.”

You feel your heart drop at his inconvenience. You place a hand on his arm for support, “I’m sorry.”

He nods and you look out in the snow, falling outside of the window.

“Will hot chocolate make you feel better?” you ask him, trying to cheer him up. He smiles at you and you do a dance in your head.

Blowing on the chocolate steam, your face burns with warmth as you slowly take a sip.

“I see you’re still at school. Do you take me up on my offer for Christmas dinner?”

“Yes.” you tell him.

He walks with you all the way back to your dormitory. Students still point looks at the both of you, so you slide your hand into his, keeping him close to you.

“I had a good time today.” you tell him.

“You did?”

“Yes. We should hang out more. You’re not so boring.” you tell him and this get a happy reaction out of him.

“Take my number.” he tells you.

After you take it, he looks at you. As if he was searching for something. You already found what you were looking for so you do something that makes sense in the moment to you. You plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

You turn, open up your dorm door, and go inside. You smile and don't realize that your roommate is still there, packing her bag to visit home.

“What are you smiling about?” she asks while smiling.

“You’re not going to like it…but I kissed Paul on the cheek.” you say excitedly and take your coat off.

Your roommate sighs, “You’re barking up the wrong tree. Everybody on campus knows that he’s suspended. Who knows if he’s going to come back anyways.”

“Why does everybody know that? Cut him some slack.” you say and shake your head.

You mailed your family their gifts from you and for the heck of it, you buy Paul a gift as well.

On Christmas day, he takes you to a Christmas dinner. You got to meet the people who he called family. His brothers were a joy to be around, your belly was full from the food and your ribs hurt from their jokes.

In his car, the heat was blasting softly through the vents as you watch him reach in the backseat and pull out a wrapped gift. You both trade gifts with excitement plastered on both faces.

You both tear open the gifts at the same time and you both look and chuckle at each other. Appreciative for the gifts, you both say, “Thank you.” to each other at the same time and laugh at the fact.

Giving him your parking spot, you persuaded him to come up to your dorm. “My roommate is gone.”

That’s how you two faced each other, taking your time to get to know each other with lips and eventually with tongues. The way he made you feel was addicting. Paul held and cradled your beautiful face.

His voice was your lullaby every night. You held your phone close to your ear when he would soothingly talked about his day. He listened to the waves of your voice in his own ear as you would make small, simple conversations.

Before you knew it, spring had came. You and Paul were held hand in hand walking through a flowery meadow when you decided to ask him, “Are you done with school?”

He looks down and just nods. He didn’t want to look at you when he answered. You didn’t say anything. Catching your silence, he decides to add, “There’s a reason. I have to show you something. But just don’t get scared.” he tells you.

You nod as he lets go of your hand. “Turn around.” he tells you.

You don’t feel nervous, just anxious to know what he’s going to show you. You soon hear loud popping and a snarl and feel a nudge on your back.

You slowly turn around to see a large silvery wolf, you were deprived from words. The animal was beautiful but just by looking into their eyes, you can tell it was Paul.

Acceptance was in your mind, body, and spirit.

Paul didn’t know how he’s gotten lucky to get an an accepting, kind soul to be by his side. Sitting in the meadow, you both finally felt like you understood deeply about each other.

He told you about imprinting, you happily accept. You already felt happy. Knowing this person was going to make you happy forever. The thing that stuck out to you while he explained it was, “I will always love you. I’ll love you forever.”

Your heart felt filled with love and adoration that you felt like it was going to burst.

You decided to spend spring break with him on the rez. Every year, you and your friends would go out of town for spring break.

The shocked emotions erupted when you told them you were staying back to stay with Paul and the rez. You ignored them, stubbornly following through with your plans.

Paul was gentle. You liked how you were able to see past his hard shell.

“You’ve never done it with anyone before?” he looks down at you, and asks.

You meekly shake your head, feeling embarrassed as your elbows rest back beside you on his bed. He takes your chin and makes you follow his gaze, “It’s okay. Just tell me if I’m too rough.” You nod at his suggestion.

He let you grip and use your nails as much as you needed to on his skin. When he finally pushed through your barrier, your body clung onto his movement. The richness of the feeling he gave you made your mind blow. The soft moans from your mouth sounded like musical notes to him. He made you feel like a woman, how he handled your body, as your movements were in sync with his like perfect rhythm.

The feeling of him was addicting. Every chance you both gotten to be alone, you made sure to love on each other. The shivers and shakes he brought out of you made you almost see white.

You were glad that you waited. You waited for the right person and that person was Paul. You just didn’t understand the controversy that he faced. He made sure to be tender to you and you were happy.

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totheblood · 2 years ago

Text

superposition. (four)

pairing: dealer!ellie x best friend!reader

summary: a flashback to when ellie and petal first met...they hang out in a bathroom for some reason?

warnings: 18+, no smut! (i'm sorry it's just necessary for the plot) cursing, drug/alcohol mention and use, cheating if u squint

a/n: i am so sorry but this chapter has no smut and yes that was a decision i made on purpose, it will be back and i am already working on it so don't be mad at me.. this chapter is important for the plot and is mainly from ellie's point of view. also there are ai audios but they are not ... nasty... cause no smut! also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 2.9k

masterlist for previous chapters

"why don't we rely on chemistry?"

It was decided, Ellie wanted to crawl inside your chest and live there forever.

She can’t remember a time she’s felt this involved with someone, this desperate for another person’s touch. Any free space of her mind was taken up by you, by your smell, the way your skin felt under her fingertips. There was only you.

Ellie had always fantasized about this being a reality. About you leaning into her, delicately murmuring her name onto her flesh, coming undone on top of her several nights in a row, but she never expected it would hurt as much as it did. Every time you rushed out the door, fixing your hair in the mirror before you went, or she checked your location and saw that you were at some new restaurant or bar, her heart sank to her chest.

She was unsure of what she expected when she first kissed you. She knew it was a bad idea, that nothing could come from it that would stop the swirling in her stomach when it came to you. The pit in her stomach could only be filled by you, by being on, around, or inside you.

Ellie had met you during her junior year in high school when she was just starting to discover herself. She always knew she liked girls but before she turned 16 she had never kissed one. Everything about her was more chaotic at 16, her freckles seeming more scattered and auburn hair always slightly messy. She had been falling behind in most of her classes, except physics, and found herself not sleeping. She was an overly anxious kid with a mind that never stopped turning until she met you.

Jackson was a small town with an even smaller high school; everyone had some connection to someone. So when you sauntered into class, with shaking hands gripping the straps of your backpack unsure of where to sit, Ellie had offered you Dina’s seat. She told herself she was just being kind and it wasn’t because Ellie’s brain came to a halt when she saw you, which was wildly untrue. Dina cursed her out for giving you her seat, but when she grew to know you she understood.

Ellie was soccer captain, the one sport that the high school had for girls. When her body was moving she wasn’t thinking, all she could think was: ball, net, don’t trip, you? You slipped into her mind when she was on the field, looking up and seeing you perched on the bleachers, a book in your hand. Upon seeing you, she smiled to herself, but that smile was quickly wiped off her face as another girl on the team bumped into her, shaking her from her thoughts.

She approached you after practice, wiping the sweat from her forehead and briefly smelling her pits before getting too close. Your legs crossed over each other as you hummed, flipping the pages in the worn-down book and not noticing Ellie’s presence.

“Hey,” she grinned, hands coming forward to lean on the rail of the bleachers as she looked up at you, “came to watch me practice?”

“You wish,” you giggled, tucking your book into your backpack, “needed to find a quiet place to read. Not much action on the field.”

Ellie faked a gasp and rolled her eyes, hoping her face wouldn’t betray her but it did. The sweet blush crept up on her face as her eyes blinked at you, what a tease, she thought.

“Talking a lot of shit for someone who probably can’t make a goal,” she replied, making the playfulness in her voice evident. It was your turn to fake a gasp as your hand came over your chest.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know I was goal champion back in New York,” you added a bit of cockiness to your voice, fully knowing you were faking it.

“Goal champion?”

“Yup.”

“Never heard of it.” Ellie laughed, shaking her head before turning back and seeing the field empty. The sun was going to set soon, nighttime just around the corner. She usually hated walking home in the dark, but decided she wanted more time with you. Any amount would do. “Wanna show me your moves, goal champion?”

“I don’t think you could handle it,” you giggled, picking your bag up and walking down the steps to the field.

“Try me,” Ellie looked back at you, a shit-eating grin on her face as she ran onto the field. The night was spent with you trying, and failing, to make one goal against Ellie. She giggled as you made one goal and threw your hands up in the air chanting ‘goal champion’. She decided to never tell you that she let you make that goal. Her smile never left her face and for a brief moment in time she wasn’t thinking about all the work she had to do, or how she was going to do it, or how Joel would react when he found out she failed her Algebra test, she was just happy. She slept like a baby that night thinking of the sound of your laugh.

She kept her crush on you secret, letting it fizzle out slowly. Every sleepover the two of you had, the fear that if you found out about her crush on you that you would think she was a creep crept up the back of Ellie’s neck. It was a fear that wasn’t exclusive to you, but the rest of her feelings were. The way you sat posed for her, smiling with your teeth on display as she painted a portrait of you for art class created a new feeling she had for you, and only you. She couldn’t name it but she believed it was love.

When you came around to look at the finished product, you gasped. Ellie had painted you with flowers coming out of your hair, tulips, lilies, and roses surrounding you. You never believed you could look that beautiful, but it was how Ellie saw you. Your mouth hung open as you gasped, eyes taking in the artwork and glossing over with tears. The pink, orange, and red hues adorning your pictured face.

“Ellie, this is-” Your mouth fell open again, eyes too shy to meet her.

“You like it?” Ellie asked nervously, eyes darting between you and the painting.

“I, I love it, Ellie,” then a smile was on your face from ear to ear, “I didn’t know I could look so beautiful… and the flowers I mean?”

“The flowers are meant to represent you,” Ellie’s voice was small as she looked up at you, “beautiful and delicate.”

When you beamed at her and brought a finger to trace the lines of her art she was sure she melted. It was over for her. Every waking moment would be now spent trying to get that reaction out of you. That was the day she began calling you ‘Petal’, her own face blushing at the memory.

Her plan had always been you, even when she wasn’t sure she was making a plan. So when you and Malia had become ‘Instagram official’ she couldn’t stop herself from keeling over and throwing up into the trash can she kept beside her bed. She didn’t feel like she was going to be sick, she was just sick.

There was jealousy, and then there was whatever Ellie was feeling right now. It was almost a blind rage. She knew she didn’t have any claim to you, but didn’t she? It was her fingers, her lap, and her mouth that you came onto, not your ‘girlfriend’s’ and Ellie made sure of that.

She didn’t feel the need to call you for two days after seeing the post. She texted you to let you know she was sick, which wasn’t technically untrue, and you texted her back a sad face paired with a message to get better before the formal on Saturday insisting that you couldn’t do it alone. She wanted to reply with some snarky comment about why your girlfriend couldn’t take you, but she refrained.

The upcoming formal was something you attended for Dina and Jesse’s sake. It provided an excuse for you to wear a fancy dress while also providing a large and willing customer base for Ellie. These things were boring, and at most became fun when the music got slightly more uptempo. The point was to raise money for the fraternities, not shake your ass in front of your classmates.

Despite how excruciating these things felt, you and Ellie had gone together for the past two years. She always wore a suit and tucked your pink flask into the pocket inside her jacket, spiking your drink whenever you flashed her the signal. What started out as a boring night always ended with you and Ellie in a fit of giggles on the bench outside the venue. It was one of those traditions that you continued to look forward to.

Ellie showed up that night, a tequila-filled flask pressed tightly against her shirt. She even felt bold enough to wear a bowtie. She waited in the lobby of the venue, occasionally staring at her feet as she waited for you to arrive. She expected to drive you but you told her that you would come on your own. That alone should have raised some flags.

You showed up with Malia, her arm linked with yours. Ellie's green eyes widened but she had to maintain her composure as you approached her with a giant smile plastered on your face and arms open for a hug. She took you in, breathing in your scent which now felt unfamiliar to her. You smelt like pink pepper, Malia was rubbing off on you. Ellie shivered at the thought.

“Malia,” your voice was sweet and sing-songy, “this is Ellie, my best friend.” You gestured to Ellie who reached out her hand to Malia, a smile on her face that said ‘I’ve fucked your girlfriend, in fact, I took her virginity and I felt good doing it’ but only she knew that.

“Nice to meet you, Ellie,” Malia said as she shook Ellie’s hand, her own warm smile on her face, “this one’s told me so much about you.” Internally, Ellie scoffed.

Ellie wanted to hate Malia, and for the most part, she did. She was objectively beautiful and had this aura around her that made things in the room glow. Everyone who knew her always raved about how kind and caring she was, you being one of them. Ellie wanted to hate her, but more than that she wanted you to be happy. Malia made you happy. She had to like her.

“Same here,” Ellie shook her hand before pulling it back. Her eyes glanced to the door of the room the event was being hosted in, classical music seeping from the walls. “Should we go in?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you smiled as you took Malia’s hand in your own and walked towards the room. Ellie followed after, feeling like a third wheel. This was the night that your tradition would die.

Ellie had to make some quick exchanges and so she had to reluctantly leave you. She didn’t want you to get too comfortable without her, but she had a job to do. When she returned she found you and Malia on the dance floor and had to actively ignore how much she wanted to throw up again.

Ellie leaned back against the cold metal backing of the chair as she watched you and Malia dance in the center of the room. You looked like you were having fun, laughing and throwing your head back as Malia whispered something in your ear. Malia’s hand was on the small of your back, mine, Ellie thought. Her lips grazed the shell of your ear, mine, Ellie’s mind rang again. Her hand moved down to rest at the top of your ass, min-

Fuck it, Ellie thought, as she got up and stormed out of the room. She found herself in the ladies' room, eating the mints that were in a bowl by the sink and taking swigs of the liquor she bought for you. The bathroom surprisingly smelt nice and some lady handed Ellie a five, thinking she was the bathroom attendant, and tipping her. She didn’t even try to correct her, she just thanked her by nodding her head and opening the door for the woman. Easy five bucks.

Then you were pushing through the door, looking underneath the stalls, and locking the bathroom door behind you. Ellie was so flustered she didn’t even know what to do. She just stood up straight as she watched your movements carefully.

“Hi?” she questioned, eyeing you with a confused look on her face.

“You brought the tequila?” You questioned, your eyes wide and frantic, glancing down to her chest where you knew the flask was.

“Oh, um-” Ellie’s fingers pulled the flask out and handed it to you. She watched you intently as you took a giant swig, attempting to pretend she couldn’t read you like a book. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m a shitty fucking girlfriend.”

“No, you-”

“Yes, I am,” you sighed, leaning your head back against the wall, hitting it with a cold thud. You were about to groan in pain when someone tried opening the door. “It’s fucking occupied!”

“Jesus, Petal,” Ellie cursed under her breath as she watched you take another swig from the flask.

“I just, I can’t do it,” your eyes looked glossed over, Ellie had to stop herself from pulling you into her arms, “She’s just so nice, and every time she tries to… you know, I just can’t.”

“Is she pressuring you?” Ellie’s voice had a bite to it as she crossed her arms across her face. Her eyebrows knit together and her mouth was in a permanent frown.

“No!” you quickly assured her, “not at all. She’s actually been really nice about it and I have no idea why I can’t just go all the way with her.”

“You’re not ready,” Ellie’s voice was softer now, “that’s okay. You don’t have to be.”

“Then why…” you took another deep breath, avoiding eye contact with her, “why am I ready to do it with you?”

Ellie’s breath caught in her throat, the words getting lost on her. She wanted to speak or to lean forward and kiss you, but she couldn’t. She was a lot of things, crass, rude, occasionally a bitch but the area that was once grey was now so clearly black. You had a girlfriend, and if she kissed you, she would be a homewrecker. She couldn’t speak, but she could whisper your name. It sounded like an apology.

“Ellie, I know you were just being a good friend but I think you ruined me.”

“What?”

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Every time I kiss her, it’s just…” Your hand came up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “It’s not you, and I can’t understand why that’s so disappointing.”

“I’m not,” Ellie breathed out the words, eyes staring at the floor, “I’m not a homewrecker, Petal. I can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” you took a step closer to her, causing her eyes to look back up at you. She looked so sad, or conflicted, you were having trouble reading her, “I know you’re not, I’m sorry.”

“Do you like me?”

“Of course, I like you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters to me.” Her voice was louder now as she attempted not to choke. She knew the liquor was giving her the confidence to do this, but also knew that it would give you the push you needed to be honest.

“Do you like me?”

“Yes,” Ellie answered quickly, too quickly. You took a step back from her causing her to shrink almost immediately. This was the first time in her life she felt like she couldn’t read what was going on inside your head, “I like you, not as friends or any of that crap. I like you more than I like myself, more than I like anyone, and now that I know what it’s like to kiss you… I can’t go back to being your friend.”

“Ellie-”

“And you know this has been really shitty for me. This was supposed to be our night and you bought your girlfriend?” She took her own step back, leaning against the counter of the sink. “And I know this is my fault, I shouldn’t have kissed you or,” she made a weird gesture with her hand, “done any of that. I know but, it’s you, Petal. I would do anything for you. I will do anything for you, except for this.”

“Ellie, I-” your voice was cut off by the sound of your name being called from the other side of the door. It was like reality had hit the both of you and immediately you were both sober, “I have to go.”

“Of course you do.” Ellie rolled her eyes, moving back to sit on the bathroom counter. She watched as your nervous eyes scanned her and you turned around to open the door, hand stilling over the lock. Quickly, you turned around and hurried over to her and pressing a kiss at the side of her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feel of your lips so close to her again. She was fucking losing it.

“We’ll talk about it?” You whispered, mouth still close to hers, “I have to go but can we please talk about it later?”

Ellie nodded, eyes still closed. She heard you breathe a sigh of relief before opening the door and leaving. She only opened her eyes when she knew you were gone, letting the tear slip down her cheek.

ai audios:

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cloudedmoonofficial · 4 days ago

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Lakespeckle - Former River Colony Herbalist, Unbound Exile

Lakespeckle is the former Herbalist of River Colony. She found it quite odd that Rainfall was given nine blessings during her Captain’s dream… Nine blessings were only ever given to a cat of legend in one of the Alliance myths, so how had Rainfall, someone who Lakespeckle honestly found insufferable, managed nine? Lakespeckle had never been close to the Spirits Beyond, but she knew who was: Mistysnow. She decided to take a day trip to Field Colony and ask Mistysnow about the number of blessings Rainfall could possibly receive, something wasn’t right. But she never made it to Field Colony…

Lakespeckle was intercepted by a strange cat named Pineclaw, who claimed to be a part of her colony, but she had never seen him before! When Iceclaw came from behind her, she knew… Iceclaw killed her, or so he thought, blaming some animal or another, and River Colony would mourn their Herbalist, even if they were told that she was a traitor to their Captain.

Lakespeckle managed to control her bleeding and keep her near fatal wounds from killing her. Were she not an Herbalist, she most certainly would have died. Her fluffy fur hides most of the worst scars, but she will be forever marked by Iceclaw. She has since found a few dead colony-mates… mostly elders or senior Rangers… most likely those who opposed Rainfall and Iceclaw. She dreaded the day that her mate or son would end up like the dead… but if they didn’t, was that any better? How could they support a Captain that had her maimed?

Lakespeckle was excited and relieved when Splashmist joined her in the Unbound Lands; they still couldn’t do anything about Rainfall, but at least now she had someone to talk to. Art by Snap

#Lakespeckle #RiverColony #Herbalist #Unbound #exile

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homeofatlas · 10 months ago

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Five Times You Almost Kissed Elisa And The One Time She Kissed You

Authors note: I’ve been trying to write this all week between exams and summatives but it's finally here. Side note i miss you in french is tu me manques which means you’re missing from me and i think that’s super cute so keep that in mind. Hope y'all enjoy this and your weekends!

Word Count: 5.3k

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The first time:

You’ve been on the team for about a year now. You were signed because of your impressive scores and how well you’d communicated and fit in with the team. You’d become an asset to the team in such a short time, it felt like you’d been there forever. The girls were a family and they welcomed you into it with open arms. While you loved all of them, you’d always been slightly on the fence with a certain defender. She was beautiful, charming, and aggressive on the field, all things you found endearing. You’d been infatuated with her since the moment you’d first laid eyes on her. It didn’t help that every time you talked to her you found you had more in common. Her sense of humour matched yours perfectly and you’d never felt anything like what you feel with her before. When people talk about ‘knowing’ you’re sure this is what they mean. The only problem? You aren’t sure she feels the same way, in fact you’re almost certain she doesn’t. It frustrates you endlessly how you have these great moments together and she doesn’t seem to pick up on the fact that it’s you she belongs with. One time while over dinner she expressed she felt it had been so long since her last relationship that she felt lonely and wondered when she would find someone. All you’d wanted to do was scream the right person was sitting right in front of her. If you she’d give you a chance. But your relationship with her was too precious to blow up over romantic feelings. What if you’re wrong and it doesn’t work out? Then you’ve lost her and the relationship. You couldn’t risk it.

There were times during practice games where you and elisa got put on opposing teams creating a healthy competition between you two. Sometimes this involved purposely aggravating her, trash talking, and the occasional trip which had either of you eating dirt. It excited you to see Elisa riled up in some way without compromising your relationship. There were times afterwards when you were both breathing hard and looking at each other intensely that you thought she could feel the electricity between you two. But at the end she’d throw her arm over your shoulder and laugh about what a good friend you were to put up with how aggressive she was. All of this was a part of a larger joke and amused both of you during ‘boring’ days.

Today was one of those days. The sky was grey and getting darker by the minute but coach had you put on the coloured jerseys and get out onto the field to practise a defensive strategy he had come up with earlier. When put onto opposing teams you and elisa played this game. When you were put together your team almost always won because of how powerful you were together. Standing on opposing sides of the field you caught her eye and saw the competitive gleam there. Even if it was going to rain today, you would have some fun with her.

Staring off in your positions you eye each other making sure you both know the game is on. You warm up by getting a little too close when guarding her and making challenging faces at her. She tries to pull the aggressive pushes she uses on the field but you know her too well and dodge them everytime. After a while it begins to lightly rain, not enough to impair the game but enough to make the ground wet.

As the ball gets kicked into your side of the field you begin to chase after it trying to move it away with elisa right behind you. You can feel her getting closer and as you begin to fake right to go left she goes left, her foot coming out to steal the ball accidentally trips you and she tries to grab you as you fall but end up taking her with you.

Heavily breathing with rain pattering on your face and all around you, you look up to see Elisa hovering on top of you, her eyes scanning your face for any injuries. Her left arm is to the side of your head propping her up and her right hand is cradling your head so it didn't hit the ground as you fell. The sight of her concerned face and her scent this close to you makes you dizzy. Whether the wind has been knocked out of you because of the fall or because you’re looking at her this close to you, you don’t know. You feel like you’re going cross eyed looking at her this close.

“You okay?” She whispers in her heavy french accent.

Your eyes flicker to hers and she stares down deep into yours. You feel her intake of breath above you pushing her lower half closer to you.

“Yeah” You breathe back to her.

It feels like she’s moving closer to you but maybe your depth perception is off and the rain is hitting your skin cooling you down but Elisas body heat is warming you up and distantly you can hear the other girls calling your names and running over to you to make sure you’re okay but right now your world consists of only you and her. Her hand moves from cradling your head and she drags her warm hand down your cheek, her thumb coming to rest on the side of your nose before going to swipe it across your cheek. All of sudden you can feel a set of hands on your shoulders and arms pulling you up and away from Elisa. You can hear Sakina berating her for playing too hard in bad conditions but you can't hear her defending herself. She must feel guilty, you think to yourself. The girls crowd around asking if you’re okay. But all you can see is Elisa and how her back is turned to you and her side is covered in dirt. Turning to walk towards the benches you take what feels like your first breath since falling. As you walk away you wonder if she felt what you did between you two on the field.

The Second Time:

It happens again when you and Elisa are meeting up to carpool with Sakina for a day outing. Elisa shows up on time but uncharacteristically you both get texts from Sakina stating she’ll be about 20 minutes late. Left to yourselves you turn to grab a glass of water when you hear Elisa begin to move away from where she was positioned at the door. She moves toward the piano you have in your living room. You had hoped buying one would entice you to play it more often but often it sits there unused.

“You play?” She asks, trailing her fingers along the keys.

“I used to. I rarely feel like playing these days though.” You walk over to the piano bench and settle on it before patting the spot beside you where she fits in.

“Can you play?” You ask.

“Non, I wanted to but I was always too busy with football to commit to an instrument.”

You nod your head.

“I wasn’t very good when I did play consistently, my hands aren’t big enough to make a lot of songs easy to play.”

“I’m sure they aren’t that small.” She responds.

“I mean I can do things with them just not play the piano the best it could be played, you know?”

She gives you a look before gesturing to your hands to give them to her. You move your hands over to her and turn to face her. She inspects your hands and turns them over in her own warm palms before splaying her hand out in between you. You splay your hand out over hers and see how your fingers come up to just below her last knuckle. You both lean in to look at your two hands and make eye contact.

“Guess your hand isn’t as big as I thought it was.”

“So you think about my hands?”

“I mean how do you even get anything done with hands that small.”

“You lay off my hands, I do things just fine with them!”

“Not play the piano apparently.” She smirks at her own joke. You narrow your eyes at her before realizing how close you are to her again. This close you can see the sunspots on her nose and her textured skin. Your nostrils flare slightly. She looks into your eyes, challenging you. You shake your head. You see her eyes flicker to a strand of hair that’s fallen into your face. Without a second passing she reaches up to brush it away from your face tracing your cheek as she goes to tuck it behind your ear. She looks back into your eyes and they flicker down to your lips, at least you think they do. Your breath hitches. You begin to lean in slightly and so does she when there’s a knock at the door. You both exhale and deflate. You look at her again to see her eyes scrunched up and she’s getting up off the bench and going towards the door. You can hear your phone buzzing, no doubt Sakina phoning you to tell you to let her in. You love the girl but right now she is not your best friend. All you’re thinking about is did that really just almost happen, again?

The Third Time:

The third time you were out on the field in the middle of the game guarding some player from Ajax when she elbowed you and caused you to stumble slightly before you got back up and kept running after her. She’d been harassing you the whole game, pissing you off more and more every time. Each time you cradled your stomach or winced you saw Elisa looking over at you to make sure you were alright. She’d come up to you and asked if you were alright at least 3 times now. These reassurances weren’t enough to keep her from shooting daggers at the Ajax player though. If looks could kill the Ajax player would be six feet under.

But when she tripped you purposely causing you to have to sit out for the rest of the game Elisa was brutal towards her. Cutting her off at every pass, running faster than her, and never letting anyone near the net she was on fire. Finally the Ajax player became fed up with it and decided to take matters into her own hands. She and one of her other team mates used Elisas strength and aggressiveness against her by getting her to awkwardly on her foot.

You immediately stood up from the bench and ran to help her limp back to the locker room as there was no way she’d be able to play for the rest of the night. You hoped the referee would red card her but figured it was unlikely as she hadn’t been yellow carded for putting you out of the game either. You helped to settle her into the a chair as you waited for the teams medic to come and check elisa out. You hold her hand tightly knowing how much pain she’s in but clearly trying to put on a brave face.

“How are you feeling?” You ask, trying not to be obvious you know how she’s feeling.

“Frustrated, angry, and i’m in pain! She shouldn’t be allowed to injure you and me without repercussions.” She exaggerates with her hands breaking out into a flurry of fast french.

“You know you could have left her alone, you didn’t need to be so aggressive with her.”

“She hurt you, she put you out of the game, that’s not okay”

“I know but sometimes that’s how the game is babe,” You begin to rub soothing circles on her shoulder. “How many times have you put someone out with how aggressive you are?”

She guiltily lowers her gaze to the floor.

It’s quiet in the room for a few seconds before you feel her sigh and kneel down to be eye level with her.

“Elisa talk to me.” You try to reason with her.

As she looks at you, you can see the ring of red around her eyes indicating how stressed out she is.

“I just don't like seeing you hurt.” Her voice cracks. “Remember when I accidentally tripped you during the practice game? I felt sick to my stomach knowing I'd hurt you. I never want to hurt you Y/N.”

Little does she know she breaks your heart a little more every day you can’t be with her. Your faces are close together after her confession. You reach up to push her hair which had been falling in her face to the side again. You see her big wide brown eyes staring at you and you lean in to knock your forehead against hers. An action you save solely for when you feel words aren’t enough to express yourself in the moment. It’s hard for you to be intimate like this with her knowing you can’t have it all the time, which is why you make the most of these moments. You can feel her shift to knock your noses together. The closest you’ve ever gotten. Your eyes shut and you can feel her breath on your face and her eyelashes tickling your cheek. You slowly begin to move in and maybe she does too when you hear the door begin to open causing you to inhale sharply and pull back before standing up next to elisa again like you had been before. While nothing happened and you had leaned your forehead on hers before it had never gone on for that long or felt so close to being what you wanted it to be. You and Elisa barely met each other's eye for the rest of the night. What the hell was going on, you wondered.

The fourth time:

It was after a team dinner where everyone had had a good time full of laughter and stories of old games, the victories and the funny failures. You loved seeing the team this way, so open and relaxed. Additionally you loved to see their outfits outside of their uniforms you all wore everyday to work. Elisa was dressed up in a collared shirt with smart slacks. By the end of the dinner a button or two had come down and she’d rolled the sleeves up. With all the good food and wine flowing through you you found yourself leaning into her space when laughing more often than usual. You bumped your head into her shoulder and smiled at her brightly whenever she looked your way. All you wanted was to have her eyes on you.

As she talked to the other girls scattered around the table you found yourself grasping for her hand to take and hold to have some piece of her. You were usually a touchy person so it wasn’t completely out of the norm for you to begin tracing Elisas hands and sliding your fingers through hers. Now you knew they were bigger than yours, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the moment between you two at the piano. The thought of what might have happened kept you awake at night, thinking about her proximity, her warm hands on yours, how she brushed your hair away from your face. A shiver went down your spine thinking about it.

Elisa glances towards you with the movement. She goes to retrieve her blazer from the back of her seat and gives it to you. You wrap the jacket around your shoulders and sit back and watch Elisa smile and joke with the woman across from her. In the ambient lighting of the restaurant she looks golden. Small rays of light gracing her face as though the sun was reaching out to touch her. The sun was Icarus and Elisa was the sun. Perhaps you were Icarus in your own mission to touch her but you’d endure the burn of the wax for a moment to be warmed by her.

Falling back to earth you hear Elisa saying something to you.

“Are you ready to go?” She lowers her voice and gaze to speak to you slowly.

“Yeah.” You can’t look away from the light dancing on her face. It makes you sick to think someone can be this beautiful and you can’t have her. She’s everything to you. Definitely time to go home.

As you gather your things and make the rounds saying goodbye you and Elisa walk in a contented silence back to her car. Luckily Elisa had volunteered to pick you up and be the designated driver so you could enjoy tonight. As you slide into the passenger seat you’re almost lulled to sleep by the fluid motion of the car. Neither of you speak, exhausted from the party with so many people. This is one of your favourite parts about Elisa, she always knows when you do and don’t want to talk. She reads you so flawlessly it’s a miracle she hasn’t discovered your crush on her by now.

She silently pulls into the garage of your apartment and unlocks the door. The issue is you don’t want to go. Sure you hadn’t been in the middle of a conversation but you don’t want to leave this weighted content silence. Elisa relaxes back into the seat and looks over at you. You think she doesn’t want to leave either but you’re sure she’s tired and you’re projecting. You try to prolong the night.

“I don't want to go.” You sigh. “I’ll have to walk all the way to the elevator and then to my apartment then open the door then put my things away. I’m too tired for that.” Your head rolls over towards her.

The radio plays softly between you.

She smiles lazily at you as if she’d peel a clementine for you if you asked. Of course she’ll walk you to your apartment and make sure you get in and give you someone to lean on in the elevator. That's who she is. It’s heartbreaking.

“I’ll come with you, come on.” She pats your leg and gets out of the car as you heave yourself out of your seat and into the cold air of the garage. Elisa extends an arm for you to slip under and you walk towards the elevator and then wait for it. Once there she presses the number for the floor and you lean your head on her shoulder. She allows her head to rest on yours until you reach your floor. She walks you to your door and wrestles with your key to get it open.

Cursing she throws the key down onto your side table stepping into the hall entrance way.

“I don't know why you don’t get those locks changed, I know you have the money to do it.” She looks at you.

“Sure I could change them but where’s the charm in not struggling to get into a place I pay rent for. I think it gives the place character.” You smile charmingly at her and step out of your shoes.

She rolls her eyes and looks back towards the doorway. You hand her back her blazer and your eyes linger on each other as if to say, what now? We feel unfinished. You lean up to give her a hug which lingers for too long to be strictly platonic. Her arms curl around your waist and yours around her neck. As you begin to pull away your cheek brushes on hers. You stop close enough where she could lean in if she wanted too. You breathe in sync for a couple seconds. Sex is great but if you could stay here breathing with her forever you would never be more intimate. You begin to hesitate, if she was going to lean in she would have done it by now. Her grip loosens and she pulls away. Her stormy expression confuses you and she quickly shakes it away. Giving you a small smile and wave before turning to leave the apartment and closing the front door behind her. Trailing after her you lean your forehead against the cool door. What are you doing, you wonder.

The fifth time:

After everything had happened things cooled down for a bit. You barely had time to do everything in the day with all the training you were doing. Times with Elisa became sparse and while you two tried to make plans things always kept coming up. It felt like the world had given you your chances and you’d missed it. Whenever you two had begun to have another moment you’d always gotten cut off or the moment wasn’t right. Just when there’d been a lull in your training schedules for the christmas break you’d thought you’d see more only for her to tell you she was going skiing all break with her family. You loved that family was so important to her but you were feeling very frustrated at this point. She always seemed to side step the topic when you tried to bring it up. Three weeks of little to no time spent with her and two weeks without her at all would be your own personal hell but if it meant at the end you could work things out it would be worth it. You were still confused over the last time you had almost kissed. Her stormy expression hadn’t left your mind for weeks. You were concerned she didn’t really feel the same way you felt and you’d been making up the moments all along in your head.

The break passed with sporadic messages as she didn’t have great cellphone reception in the mountains. You visited family and mostly tried to complete a few errands you’d been putting off with your busy schedule. Your apartment had felt so empty without the person who was usually hanging out with you. It no longer felt like home as much as it did when she was there. You wondered what she was doing when you were folding laundry and loading the dishwasher. You thought about her while brushing your teeth and hanging up sweaters. You’d become so used to her presence you didn’t know how to be without her.

On the first morning back to practice from break you were the first one to arrive. You set your bag back into your stall finally ready to go back to your routine. Slowly more of the team began to file in and grumbled about the early morning practices. You watched the door for Elisa. She’d flown in early yesterday morning and texted you back when she was on french soil. Since then you’d been on edge for the next time you saw her. Your ears picked up on her familiar french lilt speaking to someone coming down the hallway before entering the change room. Her and Sakina parted ways to go to their cubbies but when you saw her enter she immediately began to scan the room for you. Landing on you, she began to make her way to you. She set down her bag on a bench before coming over to where you had already changed into your uniform.

Before that moment you had pledged to yourself you were going to play it cool and act like it had been a normal break where you had not thought about her all day and night since you last saw her. But when she was standing in front of you, it took everything not to fall to your knees. You’d forgotten how much her presence affected you and made you weak in the knees. Your arm extends without you thinking about it and she comes in to hug you so hard you feel like you can’t breathe. Or maybe you’re hugging her so hard you can’t breathe. Either way it feels like you can’t be close enough to her. It feels like you’ve taken your first breath of air since you last saw her. There’s no way the way you love her is normal. You stay locked against her until you can see the other girls begin to file out. Elisa gently rocks you in her arms whispering small “I missed yous” in your ear while petting your hair and pressing her face to the side of your head. Slowly you recover and begin to untangle yourself from her. She doesn’t let you away though. She pulls her hands to your face and pulls your forehead against hers. Gently she nudges your noses against each other.

You might cry if she doesn’t stop. Being this close to her after so much time away makes you sick in the best way. You’re flushed with desire for her. You yearn for her.

Cupping your cheeks she pulls away to look in your eyes.

“We have to talk.” She whispers gazing deeply into your eyes. Her eyes flicker to each of yours as if searching for something.

You nod as much as you can.

“Can we go to yours after practice?” She asks.

“Yeah.” You try not to let your voice crack.

“Okay.” Her face breaks out into a small smile. She dips down leaving a kiss on your cheek before turning to go to her stall and change. You grab your water and walk down the tunnel to the field. You can’t be around her anymore, your head is starting to hurt. Today was going to be a long day.

The sixth time:

You’d been practically electric all day. It felt like someone had electrocuted you with a ton of energy and you had nowhere to put it. Comparatively, you also hadn’t been able to focus on much of anything today instead of being hyper aware of where Elisa was at all moments. Positioning yourself so she was always in your line of sight helped you breathe a little easier. Still you and she kept away from each other for the most parts of the day, only coming together to stand beside each other silently. Nothing needed to be said, you both knew what needed to happen was going to happen tonight whether it was what you wanted or not. By the time coach whistled and let you go you were dragging your feet from how tired you were and your stomach began to tie itself into knots.

Changing quickly you leave and see Elisa follow suit trailing two steps behind you in the hallway to the parking lot. Since you came in different cars that morning she’d have to follow you back to your apartment. Getting in your car you drive home watching your rear view in case for some reason Elisas car magically disappeared off the road. As you pull into the garage and grab your bag from the back seat you watch Elisa do the same and fall into step with you towards the elevator. As you wait for the elevator you can feel her shoulder pressing into yours, below that you can feel fingers interlacing with yours. You look down and then up to see her giving you a small smile as the door dings open signaling its arrival. You smile back and the cramp in your stomach loosens a little. Walking to your apartment from the elevator feels the longest it ever has. Now is the last time you’ll be able to imagine what’ll happen once you’re in there. Fighting with the lock to get it to open you finally get the door open while Elisa sighs and shakes her head.

“Don’t even say it, I know what you’re thinking.” You threaten as you drop your things.

“I didn’t say a thing.” She puts her hands in the air to simulate surrender.

“Didn’t have to, I could feel it radiating off of you.”

“Well that’s not my fault. I can’t control that.” She replies, placing her things down gently next to yours.

Standing in your apartment now it feels so real. Months of dancing around each other leading up to this moment. You stand there feeling naked under her gaze. Sometimes you swear she can see right through you. This heavy silence feels almost suffocating. Elisa always knows how to break the tension though.

“Can I use your shower? I changed really fast at the stadium and didn't get a chance to wash off today.”

“Yeah totally.” You shake yourself out of your daze. “You know where the bathroom is and there’s towels in the cupboard on your left.”

She smiles and begins to walk down the hallway. You aren’t worried, you have all night to talk. But it's eating away at you slowly. Turning on some music you can hear the shower begin to run. Music will help distract from the fact that you’re about to have a conversation which might make or break your relationship. Spinning around your kitchen you begin to heat up the water while you prepare the other ingredients for D/Y/C (Dinner of Your Choice). You begin to hum along to the music and move your head as you chop up the ingredients. You begin to lose yourself in the act of cooking becoming so intensely focused on it so as not to think of anything else. By the time you zone back in you realize you can’t hear the shower running anymore. Glancing behind you to see if Elisas comes out you startle seeing her leaning against the wall and watching you. Her wet hair creates small water marks on the collar of her shirt.

“You scared me, I didn't hear the shower turn off.” You say.

“Sorry, you seemed into the cooking and I didn’t want to scare you while you were holding a knife.” She shrugs and pushes off the wall. “Plus, I like watching you do your own thing.” She begins to make her way closer to you.

Stopping beside you she looks over and you know it’s time to talk. You turn the heat down on the stove and turn to face her with your arms crossed, almost hugging yourself. She inhales as if she’s going to say something but you cut her off.

“Can I say something first?”

She nods.

“I….” The words die on your tongue but you have to force them out. You swallow. Leap of faith. “I like you. I really like you, I have for a while now. I like everything about you, even the bits that kind of drive me nuts. I love watching movies, and going on walks, competing, and laughing with you. It never feels like a moment is wasted between us. No matter what happens or what you have to say, know you made my world bigger and brighter since you’ve come into my life.” You sigh with a long exhale.

Elisas smile gradually got bigger the more you spoke.

“Cherie, did you honestly think I would say anything but the same back?” She places a hand on your back. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since we met. My world is infinitely better with you in it. Over the break I looked out the window and saw these beautiful mountains and all I could think of was how much I wanted you to be there next to me looking at them too. Nothing seems half as beautiful without you.”

Her hands travel up to cup your cheeks. You feel so relieved she feels the same way your shoulders sag with relief. You look into her shining eyes. This moment is where you’d like to stay forever. Safe in her arms with all her concentration on you. Her wide smile is your favourite sight in the whole world. You can see her thinking though.

“What?” You ask.

“Can I finally kiss you now?” She asks.

“Yes.” You smile leaning in.

And she kisses you.

#elisa de almeida #elisa de almeida x reader #woso x reader #this took so long #i never edit anything im so sorry #everyone say thank you to the tiktok editors who were on the new elisa content like white on rice #wlw #élisa de almeida

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maeum-your · 4 months ago

Text

pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader

synopsis: life with all its unexpected twists and turns decides it hates you big time. your best friend ends up taking you on a trip to italy to help you escape the cruelties of your existence for at least a couple of days.

when a handsome stranger saves you from some intimate time with the airport floor and you later happen to bump into him again at your hotel, you decide to spend more time together. is it wise to open up your heart to him?

starring: enhypen jay & sunghoon, ningning (aespa), soobin (txt)

genre: one-shot, fluff, angst, slightly humorous (to some) (perhaps)

warnings: no smut but there definitely is talk about the omegaverse (idk how that happened either), harmless making out, quite a bit of cursing, dysfunctional families, my restrained need to talk about my hero academia so mc mentions todoroki quite a bit lmaoo my bad

word count: 14.1k

a/n: happy comeback day 🎉🎉🎉

my first fic in two years woooo! i started writing this two summers ago but never ended up getting past the first draft. it took a lot of editing and revising to get it to where it is now and i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

the location where this is taking place holds a very special place in my heart 💞

“and above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.” - roald dahl

you had your palms pressed against the cool glass, mouth hanging wide open in wonder as you gazed through the window. wings broke through the cotton candy field of clouds, your final destination becoming visible at long last.

stiff limbs from flying for so long were quickly forgotten as you took in the scenery from above. a breathtaking tapestry of vineyards and olive groves stretched across the landscape, the late afternoon sun illuminating the waters of the serpentine river slithering through the city below.

everything just looked so very different from what you were used to. the skyscrapers and gray monotony of your own life disappeared to the far back of your mind.

“i knew you’d love it, but you literally have heart eyes right now. you better close your mouth before you start catching flies.“

the redhead next to you nudged you in the ribs, giggling at the wonderstruck expression on your face. “mission accomplished. just what i was hoping for.“

you rolled your eyes at ningning’s teasing smirk but couldn‘t stop your mouth from stretching into a big smile, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“oh, shut it, you.“

soon, you‘d made your way through security and headed to pick up your luggage. you hadn‘t really brought much—a single suitcase sufficed for the short stay ningning had planned. yet, you already found yourself wishing for more time in this special little corner of the world.

completely exhausted after a full day of flying and five layovers, yet brimming with anticipation, you stood waiting at the baggage carousel. it seemed to take forever, though you didn‘t mind, not much, whistling a jolly tune while tapping your feet, watching bags and suitcases of all sizes, shapes and colors get picked up by people just as varied as their belongings.

as you finally laid eyes on your rosé gold suitcase and moved to retrieve it, a collision sent you staggering. if not for a stranger with superhuman reflexes who had reached out and pulled you back by the waist after someone’s shoulder had slammed into yours with unexpected force, you might have ended up greeting the grimy verona airport floor with your face.

a silver-haired young man at a distance waved apologetically. “my bad!“ he yelled and then, addressing the mysterious stranger who still had his arm wrapped snugly around your waist, “come on, dude. our cab‘s waitin‘.“

your savior was donning a pair of gray joggers and a zip hoodie, the hood drawn up, sunglasses hiding his eyes as he bent his head to look at you. concern lined the features that weren‘t being concealed, lending him a mysterious air amidst the casual attire.

“is your shoulder okay? sorry about my friend; we‘re in a little bit of a rush and he’s a little… well, let’s just call him a high energy individual.“ with a quick bow, he darted off after the silver-haired man, leaving before you could utter a word in response. the kind stranger had gone before you could get a proper look at his face.

lucky for you, ningning had maintained her composure amidst the chaos and had swiftly retrieved both your suitcases from the carousel in the meantime. it was exactly what you expected from the hyper-focused and detail-oriented woman. you wouldn‘t be surprised if she could read an academic paper and understand all its concepts without struggling even in the middle of attending a death metal concert or riding a rollercoaster. she had always been nothing short of amazing.

with her hand on her waist, the redhead sighed as she glanced after the two men responsible for the commotion.

“that was one hell of a main character moment, huh?“

you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, still feeling the lingering touch of the stranger and the faint scent of his cologne in the air.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

after picking up the keys for the rental car you had pre-booked through the company's website, you set off from verona airport. inside the shark blue volkswagen golf, the windows remained down to combat the stifling, humid air. normally, you would have minded—the hair sticking to your forehead and the beads of sweat forming—but here in verona, one of italy’s most historically and culturally significant cities, it felt liberating. it felt like freedom.

the breeze that flowed through the open windows swept away all the pent-up frustrations and stresses of the past weeks, carrying them far into the distance. in its wake, it left a sense of tranquility that you weren’t sure you had ever experienced.

ningning had a white scarf draped elegantly around her head and neck, its thin fabric fluttering in the wind. She wore stylish louis vuitton sunglasses perched on her nose and sported bright red lips that shimmered in the sunlight. ningning was the embodiment of the phrase "to go in fashion," effortlessly turning heads wherever she went.

you closed your eyes and let the crisp air tickle your skin.

passing through several charming villages, you eventually arrived at lago di garda. mesmerized by the lake of shining waters, you decided to take a leisurely drive around its perimeter.

a few windsurfers skillfully glided across the water, harnessing the wind's power, while most people were beginning to depart as the sun dipped low, casting an orange glow over everything. high-pitched calls echoed as seagulls swooped and scavenged. you couldn't help but burst into laughter as you watched one bold seagull snatch a sandwich right out of a tourist's hand, prompting a comical chase that ended in a flurry of french profanities.

by the time you completed your circuit around the lake, darkness had nearly enveloped the landscape. the sun had slipped behind the mountains, cooling the air. above, the moon shone brightly, casting a silvery glow that danced across the lake's surface.

the way up the winding road of the mountain might not have taken long but it sure wasn‘t relaxing either. your knuckles turned white from gripping the sides of your seat so hard as your best friend navigated the curves and twists of the road in the near dark. the hillside wasn’t secured at all and, if you were being completely honest, you didn‘t necessarily trust your best friend’s driving skills.

her reckless mode of driving stemmed less from any daredevil traits the redhead didn‘t possess and more from an earnest lack of skill. not that the overachiever didn‘t try to make up for it with rigorous practice.

a car came racing down the road at full speed, blinding you with its headlights. you squeezed your eyes shut. so this is how it would end? you were still so young and there was so much you still wanted to do… oh, no—would your mother throw away your psychologically large manga collection? you didn‘t want todoroki living inside a trash can.

through some miraculous maneuvering, ningning steered the car close enough to the edge that the speeding vehicle narrowly missed you. perhaps you needed to give her driving skills more credit after all. with a heavy sigh, you slumped back into your seat. todoroki was safe.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“soobin, my man. how nice to see you! how's the family?”

checking in at the hotel took a little longer than it might have usually. ningning was happily chatting away with the blue-haired receptionist, whom she‘d known ever since he‘d started working there five years ago. her family had been coming up there for the past ten summers or so, enjoying a few quiet weeks together in the mountains. it was quite strange, actually, that you‘d never come there with them, but then again, your own parents had always liked to keep you where they could see you. you'd spent your high school summers with your nose in a textbook, as they forced you to attend summer school and other extra study sessions because anything less than a perfect grade was unacceptable.

with heavy eyelids and throbbing heads, the two of you headed straight to bed without having dinner at the hotel restaurant. you had bought a sandwich each at the airport to snack on during the ride, so you weren‘t really all that hungry. besides, there were still a couple of days ahead of you to enjoy all the delicious mediterranean specialties italy had to offer.

the mattress of the king-size bed was soft and bouncy as you flopped down on it. you sprawled out your tired limbs, feeling as if you were lying on top of a cloud.

ningning had immediately refused the idea of getting separate rooms or even separate beds. she had always been the clingy one, hanging onto your arm or cuddling up to you while watching tv. you didn’t mind; you enjoyed the feeling of someone actually wanting to be in your presence.

being apart even for just the night would probably not have been the smartest idea anyway. attached at the hip since the ripe age of five, ningning knew you as well as the back of her hand. if left alone for even a moment too long, she feared you might fall apart. and girls who fly together, cry together! or at least that’s what she‘d said. no solitary weeping for you.

sharing beds had been as much a regular occurrence throughout your friendship as drunkenly reading juicy omegaverse stories out loud at 3 a.m.

from the time she befriended you on your first day of kindergarten, when she'd scared off a boy who‘d been chasing after you with a worm, until now, you‘d been having weekly sleepovers.

as teens, there had occasionally been the unscheduled visit too, whenever having to deal with your controlling parents had gotten too difficult.

it just so happened that skillfully climbing out of your window and sneaking over to cuddle close under her soft duvets was the only way to calm the anguish tearing you apart like a feral beast. ningning would let you cry in her arms while you told her, in between broken sobs, all about what you had apparently done this time to garner your parents‘ disapproval. the arguments usually revolved around you not wearing the right clothes, not reading the right books, not getting the right grades, not having the right friends—you get the gist. nothing you ever did was right.

even so, within the next hour, you’d usually end up giggling uncontrollably as ningning made you watch an episode of how i met your mother or funny cat videos she‘d saved just for occasions like that. she was like a witch who could spirit away your worries with a wave of her hand.

what had happened this time, however, could not be solved by some simple quality time and extensive skinship. it had forced you to escape together, to run off to another country, even if just temporarily, taking a holiday in the comune of tenno situated near the foothills of the italian alps.

it was as if the majestic peaks of the surrounding mountains had put their protective arms around you, and the soothing breeze, carrying the earthy scent of nearby forests, lulled you to sleep. for once, you slept soundly, with no nightmares coming to plague you at night, nothing to disturb your peaceful slumber.

soft rays of sunlight danced along your skin, gently rousing you from sleep the next morning. as consciousness returned, you fluttered your eyes open.

beside you, the redhead stirred, grumbling something unintelligible before burying her face in the gigantic pillow. she was sprawled out across her mattress, clinging to the covers more than they clung to her. her tousled hair, evidence of a night filled with tossing and turning, revealed her to be an unexpectedly messy sleeper.

you patted her head with a fond smile before slipping away to take a shower. the cold water jolted you awake, breathing new life into your senses. today promised to be a good day—you could feel it in your bones.

squeaky clean and feeling refreshed, you opened the bathroom door, expecting to breathe in the calm morning air drifting through the open window. instead, you were greeted with a horrendous stench that made your eyes water.

ningning was holding up a spray bottle and waved it frantically, filling the room with a cloud of mosquito repellant that made you cough violently. you buried your nose in your shirt, shooting daggers at her with your eyes. your friend pointed to the dozen bites covering her legs and arms with a grimace. holy cow.

how had you not noticed them earlier? but then again, you‘d felt a little groggy and disoriented right after waking up, vision still blurry and that lightbulb up there not fully functioning yet.

throats all irritated and scratchy, you both struggled to catch your breaths between bouts of coughing. it was clear ningning had used way too much.

you gestured urgently toward the door, but ningning was preoccupied battling a tiny mosquito buzzing around her head. insects always turned your usually rational friend into a bit of a hysterical mess.

without hesitation, you grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room.

before you could breathe in the fresh, fume-free air, however, your body collided with something hard. the girl who had been just inches behind you crashed into you, knocking you over.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. why did your intuition about the trajectory of today have to be so far off?

your fall was cushioned by something soft and very much alive. holding your spinning head, you tried to push ningning off your back while simultaneously struggling to get up from whoever you had just taken down with you.

the frantic apology you were preparing got stuck in your throat as you looked down at the gorgeous adonis underneath you.

silky black strands of hair framed his sunkissed face, and his eyes were sharp and narrow. in theory, their design should‘ve made him look angry and serious, especially after being tackled to the ground so forcefully.

instead, he stared at you in wide-eyed surprise. “wait, aren‘t you the girl from the airport? i remember you. yeah, you were wearing a blue babydoll top, weren‘t you? you almost got knocked over.“

your eyes fell to the heart-shaped birthmark on his neck. realization dawned on you. you remembered catching a glimpse of that peculiar spot on his neck under the gray hood he‘d been wearing just a day prior.

“you‘re the one who saved me from falling.“

“i guess you came to take revenge on us.“ much to your surprise, he appeared completely indifferent to finding himself intimately acquainted with the floor. his laugh was rich and infectious, his eyes twinkling merrily. god, he was cute.

he promptly got up off the floor and extended a chivalrous hand to you, helping you up in one swift motion, the muscles in his arms flexing deliciously.

the strong grip on your hand and the gentle pull willed your face to stop mere inches away from his. you could feel his warmth radiating and caught a faint scent of his cologne. your eyes locked for a moment, and it was hard to keep a neutral facade—to act like this hadn’t just completely derailed your train of thought.

his surprise at the sudden proximity faded into something softer, the twinkling of his eyes reminiscent of the glimmering water of lago di garda underneath the evening sun.

this man had you writing poetry about him, and you didn‘t even know his name.

a cough interrupted the moment, drawing your attention. "i hate to interrupt, but technically, i’m on the floor because of you. so, can someone lend a hand before you two carry on with the romancing?“

heat seared across your face. you hurried to assist ningning, who had just borne witness to you drooling over some handsome stranger after you'd pushed her so callously to the ground. this man was undeniably good-looking, though, so you hoped she’d understand.

forget bros before hoes. as far as ningning was concerned, the more hoes for y/n, the better. you really were that bitchless. it wasn’t like you hadn‘t had your fair share of what you affectionately referred to as your gentleman callers, but unfortunately the only men you were attracted to were either fictional and/or two dimensional (literally). so you ogling at a living, breathing specimen of the opposite sex truly called for celebration.

another hand beat you to helping ningning up, belonging to a man slightly taller than the stranger you’d collided with. he possessed slender limbs, an elegant face with a mole beneath his right eye, and a rosy blush tinting his cheeks against silver hair.

he pointed to himself with a cheeky grin. “and i‘m the culprit of the hit and run. glad my man jay here,“ he draped an arm around the other man, “took such good care of you.“

although his words were aimed at you, his gaze remained fixed on ningning as if she were a rare gem on display. the object of his attention couldn’t help but laugh incredulously at the absurdity of the situation.

his friend, jay, freed himself from his grasp. “that’s not really something to brag about,“ he chided his friend with an exasperated sigh. “well, this is sunghoon, my idiotic best friend but i swear he‘s alright?“ the last bit came out more like a question.

was he really alright, like mentally, jay wondered as he watched his friend unabashedly checking out ningning from head to toe, the grin on his face growing impossibly wider, giving off an air of mischief jay had grown accustomed to over the years.

“and who might you be?“ sunghoon incquired in a sultry tone, eyes lingering a tad too long on the pink pajama shorts your best friend was still wearing.

“if i tell you, will you promise to finally stop doing that,“ she gestured to his face with a frown, “weird eyebrow thing you have going on?“

sunghoon, who had indeed been wiggling his eyebrows while squinting and puckering his lips, attempted to defend himself. "i was aiming for 'man of your dreams' but i'll take the feedback," he grumbled, straightening up and relaxing his features. when he wasn‘t contorting his face, he didn‘t look half bad—he was almost as handsome as his companion, though you were clearly biased in that regard.

ningning breathed a sigh of relief, as if finally cured of a long period of intense suffering. “much, much better. and, as promised, i‘m ningning. and,“ shifting the attention to you as she nodded in your direction affectionately, “this is y/n.“

“sorry, for earlier,“ sunghoon apologized impishly, rubbing the back of his neck after receiving a warning glare from ningning.

“no harm done.“

“a lovely name for a lovely lady,“ jay remarked with a charming smile. if he was indeed flirting, you were relieved that his approach was far more refined compared to his friend’s antics. a true gentleman caller indeed.

wait—he was flirting with you? the tingling sensation that swept through your body embarrassed you enough to avert your eyes at record speed. who would’ve thought that not only would you one day find a man you actually found sorta attractive, but that he’d also be trying to woo you with his irresistible charms?

lovely, lovely ningning, the incarnation of cupid herself, someone who knew you inside out, backwards and forwards, immediately picked up on the vibes. a cunning smile tugged at her lips.

“so,“ she clapped her hands together, “would you guys,“ stare lingering on jay specifically, “like to join us for breakfast? we,“ glancing at you, “would be glad for some company.“

you weren‘t quite sure whether to strangle ningning or kiss her. if she wanted to play matchmaker, right now wasn‘t really an appropriate time. a summer fling, or, god forbid, a summer romance wasn't really what you were looking for. you thought about the reason that had necessitated your escape in the first place and shuddered. 2d men would be a much safer option.

the redhead, noticing this, gave you an encouraging smile as she touched your arm. it‘s going to be alright, she seemed to say. the tension in your body relaxed slightly.

sunghoon, completely oblivious to the very obvious scheme ningning was planning, swung his arm around jay‘s shoulder, squeezing him way too tight. he stared him down with huge, unsettling orbs and an over-the-top smile. “we would love to. right, jay?“

not a single person in this hallway was being very subtle about their intentions. it all felt a little too bizarre to be real.

jay regarded you with an unreadable expression. his gaze lingered, unwavering and deep, as if trying to read you.

finally, his face relaxed into a pleasant smile. “right, sunghoon.“

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“i like women with opinions. so hot.“

ningning glanced at you discreetly, her face a silent cry for help.

sunghoon had his head resting on his arms, looking dreamily at the redhead sitting in front of him. it wasn‘t that your best friend wasn‘t accustomed to attention from both boys and girls, but no one had ever been so weird about it. his excessive fluttering eyelashes and exaggerated sighs made it difficult to take him seriously, as if he were a man who'd just experienced the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life and was now asking for another round.

even jay seemed lost for words, shooting sunghoon some serious side-eyes, unable to flatten his facial expression into anything other than a mix of mortified amusement and concern for his friend‘s mental state.

“has anyone told you that you‘re a bit peculiar?“ ningning asked, taking a sip from her orange juice, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized sunghoon.

“oh yeah, all the time, but it sounds so much sexier when you say it,“ sunghoon replied with a playful grin.

“okay, time to switch the subject.“ jay needed to cut off sunghoon before he‘d start spouting even more unhinged nonsense. “we‘ve established ningning is a pre-law student who can kick ass. so, y/n, how do you go about insulting stupid people?“

“oh, i might not say it to your face but i will use you for inspiration as a villain in one of my stories and make you suffer. like, a lot.“ you shrugged nonchalantly, as if that was a completely normal thing to say.

“creative, i like that,“ jay chuckled. “so i take it you‘re a writer then?“

wildly embarrassed all of a sudden, you played with the fresh strawberries on your plate. “not exactly. i‘m an english major and, well, i do enjoy writing in my spare time. but it‘s nothing to write home about, really.“

in truth, you had a few short stories published online and plenty of my hero academia fanfics on ao3, but revealing that would literally shatter your dignity into a million tiny, irreparable pieces.

“what about you?“ you quickly asked jay, shifting the spotlight away from yourself. you were accustomed to avoiding attention, fearing that someone (usually your parents) might uncover and critique your flaws. “let me guess. you’re obviously very knowledgeable when it comes to fashion, so… fashion design, perhaps!“

jay was impeccably dressed and styled. at the airport, he had sported a more relaxed and comfortable look, but today he was wearing a dark blue polo shirt, white shorts, and wristwatch that caught the sunlight. the golden earrings added a touch of chic to his ensemble.

what had really given you the notion in the first place, however, was the fact that he started meticulously analyzing the outfit of every single person in the room the moment you entered, providing a long-winded commentary about the latest fashion trends from all across the globe. you could only hope that the white shirt dress you had on was jay-approved.

“sooo close,“ he chuckled ironically. “it‘s actually business administration and management.“

this revelation made you tilt your head curiously. jay did exude a hint of businesslike demeanor at first glance, but his personality was far from aloof. you had expected something different, something more tailored to his personality, that‘s all.

it was nice to get to know what the two strangers at the table were like, and you listened fondly to the stories ningning was telling, even though you‘d already heard them hundreds of times. you starred in most of them anyway.

the only issue was that jay seemed very interested in you. why would this be an issue, a sane person might ask. a hot, fashionable man with good manners showing interest in you. boo hoo. go jump off a cliff.

you internally scolded yourself for being so tense, but it wasn‘t easy to just let go and relax. just how much of yourself could you give away without going from a hot mess to just straight-up professional problem collector? if only you had the superpower to come up with half-truths on the spot that could make you sound way cooler than you were, but you weren‘t ningning. you were creative, yes, as illustrated by your artistic pursuits, but that creativity needed to simmer and only came loose when it wanted to. you couldn‘t summon it in an instant. you probably came across like a proper snooze-fest with the way all of your answers were as specific as a fortune cookie.

if jay was deterred by this, it didn‘t show. he was like a gold digger searching for the treasure. in this case, something you could talk about without restraint. he sensed an active inner world and was convinced he just needed to show enough genuine interest to coax it out of you. if only he knew the right things to say—

“don‘t ignore me.“ sunghoon crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a kicked puppy. “if i don‘t get attention, i‘ll die.“

“much better,“ he said solemnly, when everyone turned to him, swiftly ignoring the raised eyebrows.

“ningning. i need one of your sexy opinions. hotdogs? are they a sandwich?“

the redhead blinked blankly, momentarily forgetting to chew on her food. “excuse me, what?“

“is a hotdog a sandwich,“ he repeated as if it were the most normal question in the world.

“no? yes. no! what?“ you‘d never seen your best friend so lost for words. she opened and closed her mouth, spluttering in confusion.

“shouldn‘t it be though? there‘s bread on two opposite sides.“

“but a hotdog is just a hotdog, and a sandwich is just a sandwich,“ she contemplated, treating the question with more seriousness than the situation required.

“look,“ she said, pointing the fork at him, “one has two separate pieces of bread, and the other is a sliced bun.“

“yeah, they don‘t have the same shape either,“ you chimed in. “and a hot dog has the bread on the sides, but a sandwich has it on the top and bottom.“

“would you then agree that a hot dog is a taco?“

say what now?

he shrugged. “they‘re the same shape, so according to your logic, a hotdog would be a taco.“

ningning thought about this. “i guess it would be more of a taco than a sandwich.“

“that wasn‘t the point i was trying to make.“ sunghoon muttered displeased.

“actually,“ jay had pulled out his phone, “according to merriam-webster, a sandwich is defined as having two or more slices of bread or a split roll with a filling in between. this would mean that a hotdog is, in fact, a sandwich. however—“

“ha, i told you so. guess i know more than you after all, mon chéri,“ sunghoon taunted ningning, relishing in riling her up. did he know whom he was messing with? arguing with the redhead was as safe as juggling chainsaws.

ningning folded her arms. “that‘s literally complete bullshit. have they literally never seen a sandwich before?“

“if you would let me finish,“ jay raised his voice, lips pressed into a tight line, unamused by their bickering, “the washington post argues that classification can be done by applying the cube rule, which categorizes food by the placement of starch. and hot dogs are defined by starch on the bottom and on two opposing sides.“

“so basically, what you‘re trying to say is—actually, i have no idea what you just said. i guess we just have to agree to disagree, sweetheart.“ sunghoon winked at ningning. she looked like she was about to jump at him and stab him with her fork.

ningning didn‘t lose. that was a fact. as a middle schooler, she‘d had a reputation for obliterating even the most raunchy, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, everything-phobic boys into submission. then, during high school, she‘d been known as the undefeated wrecking ball at every debate tournament, serving up verbal beatdowns like they were free samples at costco.

winning pointless discussions was what she did best.

the back-and-forth continued, phones were pulled out, receipts shown.

“yeah, i don‘t think i‘m as invested in this as they are.“ you said to jay, accompanied by a wry sigh.

“me neither.“

he was secretly glad it gave him the chance to return to the earlier conversation. what should he focus on? what moved you? you‘d been so humble about your writing; he was sure there must be more.

“you said you liked to write? any plans on becoming a published author then?“

a bitter laugh escaped you before you could stop it. you scrambled to cover it up by putting on a totally-not-forced smile. definitely not the best choice of topic.

you were the only daughter of an affluent family and expected successor to a big hotel chain. your parents had nearly combusted when you‘d chosen to study english at a smallish public university instead of sticking to the meticulously mapped-out 200-step life plan for you.

step one: no room for defiance.

step two: exceed perfection.

the arts were only ever desirable when they were being consumed, not pursued. they didn‘t understand that someone had to create that art in the first place for others to appreciate it.

writing fiction was akin to attending a formal dinner party butt-nacked, as far as your parents were concerned anyway. they judged your devotion to made-up stories as disgraceful.

despite all of your attempts to escape your so-called destiny, your parents never gave up trying to mold you into someone you weren‘t—an impossible version of yourself they expected you to eventually accept. your true personality was dismissed as “just a phase.“

desperately clinging onto your dreams, you knew that what had transpired right before your escape had the power to alter the trajectory of your entire life.

the room was quieter than a mime convention as you contemplated your life choices, wondering why there couldn’t have been an instruction manual for when shit like this happens.

jay furrowed his eyebrows. “parental issues, i assume?“

good thing your jaw was securely attached to your skull because— “how on earth? are you some kind of psychic or what?”

he gave an unperturbed shrug. “isn‘t it always parental issues, though?“

“true.“ you sipped on your water, eyeing him suspiciously. you couldn‘t believe you were that easy to read, more transparent than a freshly cleaned windowpane. mastering the art of hiding your true thoughts and feelings was the one superpower you had to learn in order to avoid nuclear-level arguments with your parents.

jay regarded you with an unreadable expression before his lips curled into a gentle smile, making you almost forget that you were supposed to be in full-on panic mode.

“so i guess you‘re here to forget all about that? tenno really is a beautiful place. it‘s so easy to put aside all of your worries once you‘re up here.“

“i think so too,“ you nodded enthusiastically, relieved that he wasn‘t going to press on about the whole parental issues thing. “it was all ningning‘s idea to come. she said she knew just the right spot, so here we are. i gather you‘ve been here before?“

“hundreds of times,“ he said. you noticed he had a tendency to trail off into laughter the end of his sentences.

“actually, i’ve been wondering—have you made any plans yet? sunghoon and i were going to walk to the art colony not far from here. not only is the route is lovely, but i think it might speak to your artistic side. what do you say?“

hell yes, you thought, but then remembered it was probably embarrassing to be so excited about spending time with someone you literally didn‘t even know.

“ningning?“ you tapped your friend on the elbow, prompting her to abrubtly cease arguing with sunghoon, leaving the silver-haired man to sulk.

“do you want to go with them today? they‘re visiting an art colony. we haven‘t planned anything, right?“

you tried to keep the pleading puppy eyes in check, hoping she hadn‘t secretly arranged any plans yet. looking at art? sounds perfect. looking at art with a hot guy? fucking amazing.

“as long as he admits that i am right,“ ningning rolled her eyes at sunghoon who regarded her with a scoff.

“you wish, mon chér—ouch.“

you had enough tact to pretend not to have noticed jay kicking sunghoon under the table.

“fine. you win this round, sweetheart.“

ningning stuck out her tongue at him and did a little victory dance. seemed like you weren‘t the only one in a good mood.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the art colony was a medieval village named canale di tenno. as you strolled through its cobblestone streets, you immediately noticed the unusually tall stone houses, some four or even five stories high, every wall slanted and crooked. you admired their rustic facades and flower-adorned balconies.

you moved under archways and through narrow alleys, all leading to the piazzetta, the village square, where a few cozy restaurants were located. especially for someone from a big city, this small and rural village with its forty residents and handful of art galleries and shops felt like a 180 degree switch to the skyscrapers and anonymous crowds of seoul. vibrant artwork was displayed on most of the windowsills and you were welcomed with genuine enthusiasm everywhere you entered.

jay grew more and more attractive with each passing minute, acting as a tour guide and sharing his extensive knowledge about the village and its people with you.

he was now leading you through the historic house museum, known as the casa degli artisti, dedicated to the renowned italian artist giacomo vittone. the museum not only paid homage to his contribution to the arts, but the collection also featured works by other artists who‘d been inspired by the region.

the owner greeted jay like an old friend, patting him on his back as he gave him a hug followed by a kiss on each cheek. jay conversed in fluent italian, gushing over the new pieces of art that had been added since his last visit. your handsome stranger seemed to know a lot about many of the individual artworks and personally guided you through the exhibitions.

meanwhile, ningning and sunghoon seemed to be in their own little bubble, bickering for the majority of the time, but you could tell it was all in good fun. if you weren’t mistaken, and you rarely were when it came to your best friend, ningning had taken a liking to the silver-haired man. she did like being challenged, though not as much as she liked to win, and she was definitely more than capable of dealing with all the teasing and pestering he made use of to secure her attention.

you weren’t really focused on the pair, if you were being honest. you’d always been a fan of the arts, fascinated by the way literature and art intersected in many places.

you eagerly bombarded jay with question after question about the pieces, any traces of shyness had vanished, replaced by a thirst for knowledge. he smiled to himself and did his best to answer, happily delving into discussions about the color palettes and artistic forms with you, delighted to see you coming out of your shell.

after having gone through each piece in extensive length, you went into a tiny store selling art goods.

the moment you stepped in, your eyes darted from one corner to the other, heart swelling with joy, unsure where to look first. if you could have, you would have bought everything they were selling. each and every piece had been crafted by hand, none of that factory-produced stuff. all the goods were unique to the village, to that store. how you wished you could’ve properly supported the local community and all its artists.

fleeing home in a hurry meant you hadn‘t been able to exchange your korean wons to euros, and most places here didn’t have card readers.

besides, you were sick and tired of being reliant on mommy‘s and daddy‘s money. all you‘d ever wanted was to support yourself by writing novels. being dependent on your parents was one thing, but the thought of being dependent on… well, him. you shook your head to rid yourself of that painful feeling. real life could wait.

everyone ventured off on their own, taking their time to absorb the treasures inside the room for as long or as little as they liked.

at a table just behind the corner stood an army of little frog figurines made of clay, painted a muddy green. the whimsical creatures with their silly little faces warmed your heart. it was a bit strange; they were only frogs after all, yet you couldn’t help but feel an immediate attachment to them.

“they‘re beautiful, aren‘t they?“ jay appeared soundlessly by your side.

you nodded. he gently lifted one to his eyes and inspected it closely, focusing on a peculiar spot under its eye. “this one kinda looks a bit like sunghoon.“

“oh, i see it.“

you picked up another one. “and this one‘s you.“ the paint had chipped off a little at the neck in exactly the shape of a heart.

jay pointed to another one and said it looked like you.

you tilted your head to the side, staring at the frog with a puzzled expression. “how come?“

“it‘s cute.“

heat rushed to your cheeks. he looked straight at you, face completely serious.

you quickly averted your eyes. the intensity in which he studied you was too much. it made you feel a little self-conscious.

ignoring your erratic heartbeat, you continued going through the frogs, the perfect excuse not to look back up at jay. rather coincidentally, since you weren‘t really focusing on the task at hand, you found the remaining missing member of your little frog community. a tiny amphibian with lovely wide eyes bore a striking resemblance to your best friend. give her a wig and voilá—amphibian ningning.

not only did jay end up buying the four frogs, but he also insisted on getting lunch for all of you. ningning and you tried to protest, but sunghoon, already used to his friend‘s generous spending sprees, ordered an obscene amount of food as if it were the last time he would eat ever. ningning and you still felt bad about leeching off jay when both of your families were rolling in dough, but there was no point arguing with the man.

by the time everyone had finished, you felt like you were about to burst any minute. despite having to soothe your aching tummies, it was worth it. the polenta e funghi you‘d had… fucking hell.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the way back to the hotel felt much more tedious than when you‘d walked to canale di tenno. the blisters on your feet screamed for mercy, unwilling to continue trotting under the glistening sun. your full bellies dragged you down, inviting you to lie down on the grass and close your eyes for a moment.

“how come you knew the owner of the museum so well?“ you inquired, curious to learn more about jay. you walked side by side, with ningning and sunghoon a little ahead.

“oh, i thought i mentioned it. he’s actually a distant relative of mine. i‘m not quite sure. i think he is my great aunt‘s husband‘s sister‘s husband or something like that? yeah, sounds about right.“ he rubbed the back of his neck. “he and his wife rejected the luxury of our family name and she moved here to live with him, where they'd first met and fallen in love. we haven‘t been here since they got married; i'm barely even allowed to mention him to my parents. we‘re not known for being very tolerant.“

he clenched his teeth. he hated how his family had acted. was acting. he liked his great-great-uncle, admired him even.

“i wish i had the courage to be more like him, to bravely go against expectation.“

you nodded thoughtfully. “sometimes our hearts don‘t want what others have picked out for us.“

he gave you a meaningful look, but you couldn‘t decipher it.

you were walking uphill now, labored breaths escaping you with every step. ningning and sunghoon appeared to be immersed in some conversation that required a lot of gestures, judging by their constant arm movements, but they were too far ahead, fueled by their competitive energy, for you to hear.

you watched their backs as you listened to the birdsong accompanying your journey. you closed your eyes for just a second, enjoying the lovely melody, but that was all it took. you misstepped.

jay‘s reflexes kicked in just a tick too late, and there you were, crouching on the ground, face contorted in pain, clutching your ankle. you tried to stand, but the sharp pain that shot up your foot forced you back down with a yelp. the pair ahead of you quickly rushed back to you upon hearing your agonized howl.

“let me take a look,” jay said gently.

reluctantly, you allowed him to examine your ankle, wincing as the prodded it with a gentle touch. “it hurts like a bitch.”

“it‘s swollen; i think you sprained it. you shouldn‘t walk on it, or it‘ll get worse.“

“oh, my sweet little darling! i’ll get you back safely, don’t worry. hop on.“ ningning stood with a slight forward lean, ready to receive the weight.

sunghoon affectionately tapped her head and chuckled. "it’s nice that you’re so concerned, but don’t you think it would be much easier if either jay or i carried her? not to brag or anything, but i'm pretty strong."

sunghoon‘s enthusiasm faded into mortification as he caught the warning in jay's eyes.

"or… jay can carry y/n since he is much, much stronger than i am. yes, big biceps and all that good stuff. loads of muscle. umm, if you know, you know.“

you probably had no choice but to continue the journey on jay’s back. putting pressure on your foot hurt so bad and bruises already started to form a purplish-red hue.

before you could even think about protesting, he effortlessly scooped you up and adjusted you onto his back. hands secured around his neck and shoulders, you could feel his strong muscles at work as he resumed walking.

despite the situation, you couldn‘t help but feel a little flustered being so close to him. ningning winking at you from the side probably didn‘t help much either.

jay didn't complain even once about the extra weight. on the contrary, he continued talking so effortlessly, as if he weren’t carrying an entire person on his back.

“you know, this reminds me of a hike i did in the rockies last year,“ he began, voice calm and steady. “except it was sunghoon who twisted his ankle, and i had to carry him.“

you laughed softly. “it‘s insane that you‘re not even breaking a sweat, especially, in this heat,“ you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

you felt him shrug. “years of hiking and a bit of gym time,“ he replied nonchalantly. “plus, i think carrying a beautiful girl might be giving me an extra burst of energy.“

it sure was a good thing that he couldn't see your face at that moment. your cheeks burned hot as he continued making light conversation.

jay‘s relaxed demeanor helped you forget the throbbing pain in your ankle for the most part, allowing you to genuinely enjoy the rest of the walk. with no need to focus on where you were stepping anymore, you could fully take in the view, catching glimpses of a lake glimmering through the trees.

when you reached the hotel, you experienced a confusing mix of relief and disappointment as jay gently set you down. “there you go, safe and sound.“

jay went to find some ice for your ankle, and ningning retrieved painkillers from her suitcase.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

for dinner, you indulged in strangolapreti—spinach and ricotta dumplings served with a sage and butter sauce—and some pollo alla cacciatora, hunter‘s chicken cooked in a tomato and herb sauce. jay used his perfect italian to inquire about the restaurant’s finest wines, settling on a bottle of teroldego rotaliano, made from grapes native to the trentino region. because of your stupid ankle and reliance on painkillers, however, you didn't have more than just a sip or two.

after a second bottle, some gelato and more ibuprofen for your ankle, the group decided to spend the rest of the evening playing card games, which led to some rather… let‘s say interesting bets.

"i’ll let you bleach my eyebrows and dye them pink if i lose."

"if i win, i‘m going to draw dicks on your faces."

“you have to do a hundred push-ups wearing a maid costume.“

none of the bets— or so you thought— ended up being actualized since you were far too gone far too soon. the moment your head hit the pillow, you drifted off to dreamland, the sharpie shlong on your chin moving with every soft snore.

stupid, fucking ankle. why won’t you work the way you’re supposed to?!

you felt bad beyond measure. the last thing you wanted was to spoil your friends’ fun just because your ankle decided to act like a major bitch right now.

during lunch the day before, ningning had suggested a drive down to lago di garda to explore the towns there, and you wished they would just go do exactly that today.

ignoring your pleading looks, they insisted on staying at the hotel with you but what kind of shitty friend would you be if you were to allow that.

“please just go and don‘t worry about me. i‘ll be fine here on my own. there’s plenty to enjoy—good food and maybe i’ll go chill by the pool or whatever.“

ningning, whose cheeks were stuffed with strawberries, making her look like a cute little chipmunk, shook her head vehemently. “how could we just leave you here? girl, i didn’t drag you all across the globe just to abandon you. nope, i‘m staying.” she motioned vaguely toward the guys. “these two can go, but i’m not leaving you, especially not when you‘re in such a vulnerable position right now. i really don't—“

you shot her a sharp look, halting her mid-sentence. you didn’t want to be rude, but your current predicament really was none of their business.

“yo, we‘re not heartless (well, not completely)… if you‘re stayin’, we‘re stayin‘.“ what sunghoon meant by that was that he was going to follow wherever ningning would go. probably.

you nervously looked between the three of them. “but ningning, i know you‘ve been wanting to visit sirmione. you‘ve been talking about finding that restaurant your grandma used to take you to as a kid, right?“

ningning pouted. it was true. in recent years, her grandma’s illness had prevented her from making the trip with the rest of the family and her passing still weighed heavily on ningning, who had cherished her dearly. the old lady had been your best friend‘s favorite person in the whole world. next to you, goes without saying.

“and sunghoon,“ you turned to him, “you were so excited when we made these plans yesterday. it’s your first time here so you haven‘t had the chance to explore the region either.“

jay hummed thoughtfully. “what about this: ningning and sunghoon take the drive down to the lake. i’ll stay with you. i‘ve been here countless times and have seen everything there is to see.“

now, see, you wanted to protest, you really did, but he did have a valid point. you were less concerned about him missing out than you were with sunghoon and ningning, and let's face it, the selfish desire to have him all to yourself was enough to make you waver. not only was he the most handsome man you‘d ever laid eyes on, including your 2d crushes—okay, maybe not as good-looking as todoroki—, but there was also something else simmering beneath the surface that you just couldn‘t wrap your mind around. you wanted to know what it was.

ningning caught your eye and smirked knowingly. yes, this was perfect. now she could leave you in good conscience. there was no way she‘d let you refuse now.

“have fun, you two,“ she hollered over her shoulder as she practically dragged a bewildered sunghoon away.

“poor ningning. i kinda feel bad for leaving her alone with sunghoon. again.“

you waved off his concern. “you should be worried for sunghoon‘s sake. trust me when i say ningning can handle herself.“

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“guess you‘re stuck here with me now.”

you were both lying on sun loungers by the pool, enjoying the gentle breeze that swirled around you. you had brought a book with you, anne of green gables to be exact (one of your favorites), expecting jay to swim a couple of laps, but instead, he stayed glued to your side.

“poor me,” he said with a teasing smile, placing his hand on his chest in fake agony. “spending my time with a beautiful girl. life really gives the toughest battles to its strongest soldiers.”

you bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from grinning. “whatever.”

“what about this? we have some lunch and then—do you remember the lake you saw through the trees yesterday?—we can walk down there. it only takes five to ten minutes, so carrying you won‘t be a problem.”

“please don‘t! if you want to go, don't mind me. i‘ll be fine here.”

he wouldn‘t hear of it. “ah, ah, ah, no way! i‘m the one who really wants to show you the lake, so don‘t feel bad. besides, i’m a hundred percent confident you‘ve never seen anything that beautiful.“

“not even lago di garda?”

“not even close.”

he spoke with such confidence and self-assurance you felt it would be an insult to refuse.

the path to lago di tenno was a winding descent, flanked by dense greenery and the distant murmur of water. despite the uneven terrain and the extra weight he was bearing, jay‘s pace was unhurried and smooth.

as you approached the lake, the path leveled out and the view opened up to the sparkling water, an almost surreal shade of turquoise glistening under the midday sun. the lake‘s surface was remarkably still, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a fish darting below. surrounded by the unbelievably clear water was a small landmass featuring lush greenery, known as isola di tenno.

standing there and taking it all in, you felt peace settle within you. the fir and pine trees of the surrounding forests climbing the steep hillsides lent an earthy aroma to the crisp air.

it was as if time had slowed down, the distant chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves adding to the harmonious symphony of nature.

jay‘s lips curved into a smile at the sight of your awestruck face. ��i‘m glad i was right.“

you stayed at the shore and watched him wade into the lake. the cool water rose slowly up his legs, glistening as it clung to his sunkissed skin. you had to force yourself to look away, feeling like some kind of creepy stalker.

you let him enjoy the tranquility of the lake as you sat on the blanket you had brought with you. opening your trusty sketchbook, you scanned the landscape, wondering how you could capture its divine beauty on paper. your hand started moving on its own, inspiration from all around filling your heart and soul.

a sudden voice made you jump. “i didn‘t know you could draw so well. but i guess i shouldn’t be so surprised. you really did seem to be into all the art stuff yesterday.“

jay was bending down next to you, water dripping from his hair onto the blanket, looking at the page. “this is really good.“

“you think so?“ you asked. he hummed as he dried his hair with a towel.

“i‘ve always enjoyed drawing and painting. when i was younger, i used to write short stories about my childhood dog, a bearded collie named conan—yes, i named him after watching detective conan. such a good show, by the way. have you ever watched it? i don‘t know if i‘m allowed to say this as an english major, but it‘s sooo much better than the original sherlock holmes stories. i mean, there are very different, but i guess what i‘m trying to say is that they really don‘t hit the same, you know. they‘re kinda boring, actually. all the media inspired by the original sherlock holmes is so much better. bbc‘s sherlock—“

you only realized you were rambling big time when you ran out of breath. the amused smile on jay‘s face made you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“anyways, what i was going to say was that as i tried to bring conan alive on the pages, i thought it would be much better if you could see this silly little furball at the same time. so i started incorporating little illustrations of him every now and then.“

“i’ve never read the sherlock holmes books so i can’t really say much about them, but i did use to watch detective conan a lot as a kid (though i used to be kind of scared). conan always looked so cool fighting crime. i think it‘s an awesome name for a dog! do you,“ the eagerness in his voice surprised you, ”do you have anything you can show me?“

your hands were shaking. this felt a little too intimate, if you were being honest. still, he‘d been showing genuine interest—and hadn’t minded your ramblings—and you were in the mood to rave about your adorable dog.

“those are so cute. aww, look at his little scarf.“ he was swiping through your phone‘s gallery (a precarious situation considering the many bakudeku fanarts you had saved in your gallery) giving enthusiastic oohs and aahs when appropriate. there were so many drawings of conan. conan with his dotted red scarf. conan wearing yellow boots. conan chasing his tail. a leaf landing on conan‘s broad snout.

“i really think these are awesome. they seem to capture this little rascal‘s personality very well, and, oh my god, he is just so damn adorable. i wanna squish his fluffy butt cheeks.“

seeing this grown man get so excited about your doodles made you happier than you could‘ve ever imagined. this was exactly the feeling you wanted to evoke with your work. sure, most of your stories were primarily aimed at kids, but you believed that good children‘s books should be just as valuable to an adult, and illustrations played a big underrated role in that.

the fond, childlike look on his face as he studied your drawings started to overwhelm you. you didn‘t know how to react to praise, especially coming from someone who didn‘t know you very well so they had no reason to lie to make you happy.

you had to change the topic or you were legit going to cry. how embarrassing would that be, just straight up bawling because someone liked your drawings.

“what about you?“ you asked to push the attention away from you. “you said you were studying business administration. how‘s that?“

the mood shifted so quickly, it was like someone had flipped a switch. jay didn‘t look up from your phone, now looking at conan in a superhero costume with a serious, almost dejected expression.

giving the phone back, he blinked a couple of times as if trying to blink away unwanted thoughts.

“i mean, there are interesting concepts to learn about.“ he ran a hand through his still damp strands of hair and paused for a moment. “it’s okay, but that’s it, really. but i think you guessed that already.“ he smiled, but it didn‘t quite reach his eyes.

his gaze fixed on something far off into the distance. “there are quite a few jobs i can think of that i‘d rather do. fashion design, professional chef, hip-hop dancer... but unlike you or my great-great-uncle, i‘m not brave. if i‘d really wanted to, i could‘ve defied my parents and chosen a different path. i‘m a coward, y/n.“

you put a hand on his arm. “i don‘t know your circumstances in detail, but i understand that standing up for yourself can be more difficult than it seems. i‘m not sure what gave you the impression that i'm brave because i'm really not. despite everything, i‘m still nothing more than my parents‘ marionette.“

his sigh betrayed an uncharacteristically sorrowful heaviness.

“yet you still decided to pursue writing and drawing even though i can tell that decision must’ve not been an easy one. i know they mean well, my parents. they certainly think their plans will make me happy. i don’t think they understand. i’m not sure if i‘ve tried hard enough to make them… after all, how could they—“ his voice rose as he looked up at you with a furious expression, but he cut himself off, a horrified look on his face. he quickly collected himself again. “you know what? it doesn‘t matter. i don‘t want to think about it.“

you didn‘t press on. while you did want to comfort the inner child hurting so obviously inside him, to hug him and tell him he wasn‘t a coward and that he could be strong too, you felt like it wasn‘t your place to do so. he had set boundaries and you, practically only a stranger, weren‘t going to cross them.

it was interesting to see that your seemingly perfect stranger was not leading such a perfect life after all. you felt a little guilty, but it was reassuring in a way.

the silence that followed wasn‘t particularly uncomfortable though, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

the natural beauty and quietude all around you elicited a dreamy sigh from you.

"oh, why didn‘t i think of bringing a canvas and some paint down here with me? i guess i wasn't expecting to fall in love with this place so much. i just want to capture this moment for eternity, you know?"

"you mean like a picture?" he teased. you playfully glared at him. he held up both his hands. "kidding, just kidding. let me go grab one for you!"

as he began to rise, you placed a hand on his arm to prevent him from standing. his skin was cold under your fingers and the unexpected contact sent shivers down your spine.

"oh no, stay! please, i don't want you to have to walk all the way up there. we can just bring it tomorrow."

jay quirked an eyebrow. it took you a few seconds to understand that you had just insinuated he would have to carry you down here again the next day.

"ah, no, i‘m sorry. i kind of already forgot about my little handicap. you should definitely go do something nice instead.“

"but this is nice,“ he insisted. “something about the water and watching you draw so peacefully makes me feel at ease. life is going to be stressful enough when i have to return home. and simply said, i like sitting here and looking at the view." he winked at you and you suddenly felt a little braver.

"what was that? are you flirting with me, park?" you held your head high as you said this.

"and what if i am?"

your cheeks felt uncomfortably hot. even though you‘d responded to his wooing, you now had your tail between your legs and pretended to immerse yourself in your drawing again, doing your best to ignore the foreign feeling bubbling up inside your chest.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

late that evening, you lay in bed talking to ningning about your day.

she animatedly recounted the story of how they‘d found the restaurant she used to visit with her grandmother so many years ago. the owner had still recognized her, despite so much time having passed, and had prepared the most delicious lunch for them. sunghoon waited patiently—and surprisingly quietly—as the two ladies shared stories about ningning‘s grandmother. he even tried to cheer her up afterward by making a fool of himself in public (“he looked like he was doing a rendition of the ‘there‘s squirrels in my pants’ dance“) when she‘d started crying, suddenly overwhelmed by grief.

“he can be really nice when he wants to be. i think he‘s just a little,“ she drew out the last word, “bonkers, but our energies kind of match, if you know what i mean? he attacks, i strike back. he talks shit, i tell him why he's wrong. it’s like a game. there’s definitely never a boring moment when he’s around, i’ll give him that. oh, stop looking at me like that!“ she dismissed the smirk on your face. “it‘s really not like that. man, i saw him picking his nose, that shit turns you off. and when he came back from the bathroom, his fly was open. nothing romantic‘s going on here, i promise! but i do think we could be friends.“

she clapped her hands together, super excited all of a sudden. “enough about me. how‘s it going with your handsome stranger?“ she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

your handsome stranger. right. because that‘s what he was. no matter that your heart went into overdrive whenever he‘d look at you, and no matter how much he’d made you feel seen and appreciated, you had to remind yourself that you couldn‘t really know someone after only two days. sharing only carefully selected pieces of your stories with each other didn‘t make you close.

"i mean he is really cute," you admitted with a shrug, “but you know i can‘t. i am ‘promised‘ to someone after all.“ there. you finally said it. the issue you‘d been trying so hard to forget.

"so what? it’s not like you’re dating that dude. heck, you don’t even know him yet. i wouldn’t call it cheating if you were to have something going on with jay.“

"i know but it just seems… so pointless. you know i don't do flings but it's not like i can go on dates with him either."

when you‘d come back home, you‘d likely be getting married to someone you didn‘t know and there was not much you could do about it. you wanted to say no, heck you‘d said no plenty of times already, but it was more complicated than that.

“y/n, you can always just refuse.“

“you know it‘s not that easy…“ you clenched your fists. if only you‘d been born into a different family. or maybe if you‘d actually adhered to their life plan, you wouldn‘t be in this mess right now at all.

ningning placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "i’m sorry, i do know. i promise we’ll find a way for you to take advantage of his fucked-up situation but can‘t you still have a little fun before shit goes down? a kiss or two won't be the end of the world."

bearing that in mind, you came to sit by the lake the next day, trying to steal sneaky glances at jay while you worked on your canvas.

he was wearing a sleeveless shirt that clung to his toned frame, revealing muscular arms and broad shoulders. he had swept his hair back from his forehead, which highlighted his devilishly chiseled jawline and the intensity of his sharp eyes. every sane person would ogle at him, y/n, you told yourself. he was literally the dictionary definition of handsome and sexy, so of course you‘d stare. it was only natural. haha.

the majority of your afternoon was spent transferring your previous day‘s sketch onto the canvas and then painting over the delicate lines. jay kept you entertained, reading to you from his book, and discussing it with you.

while this might not have been a date it definitely felt like one. you read a lot of jane austen, for fuck‘s sake—you realized when something was romantic as hell. painting, reading, yapping, and all that with a hot guy. what a cruel joke. the universe seemed to have its fun taunting you, like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey.

do not be mistaken, you knew this wasn‘t love. something as silly as love at first sight did simply not exist, no matter what many of your favorite fanfics seemed to say. even suggesting you had a crush would be a crude exaggeration. but it was mutual attraction, that you were sure of, and it might have grown into something more, if not for the less-than-ideal circumstances.

what was strange was that after yesterday, jay seemed more restrained. after your little heart-to-heart, if you could even call it that, you‘d started noticing things. if you didn’t look away when his intense gaze fixed on you, you found something else there, lingering in the depths of his dark eyes. hesitancy. sadness. something that felt like… guilt?

you didn‘t know what it was, but this should‘ve been a relief. not that he was potentially struggling with something, of course, but if he‘d been flirting with you without restraint, you might have caved eventually, even though you knew it was wrong.

it was possible you might have just been misreading the signs. you had a more than vivid imagination, after all, which activated mostly in situations where more thinking wasn’t necessarily productive.

he might have just not liked the idea of getting too attached to someone he wasn‘t going to see again. with each stroke of your brush capturing the lake‘s incredible turquoise hue, you pondered whether to give him your phone number or not. the promise of a reunion might soften the unease in jay‘s eyes, you thought, but then again, would you even be able to keep it?

day four of your trip followed a similar pattern to the previous two. ningning and sunghoon ventured off on their own, though still lively “arguing“ with each other (they weren't fooling you), while you and jay walked down to the lake. talking and painting seemed to become your version of wining and dining.

that day, you had packed a second canvas, determined to teach jay the basics of painting.

“theory is important, but practice is where you bring it to life.“

you guided his shaky hands as he made his first stroke.

“start with broad strokes,“ you explained, demonstrating a sweeping motion. “don‘t worry about adding details yet.“

you kneeled behind him, arm draped around his shoulder for support as you leaned forward to place your hand over his.

he tried his best, but despite your brilliant guidance, his inexperience showed. years of looking into the theoretical aspects of art weren’t nearly enough to effectively apply all his knowledge in practice. he gained a newfound appreciation for painting after experiencing firsthand how challenging it could be. though he had to admit that you holding his hand so delicately was certainly distracting him as well.

if you hadn’t been so focused on keeping your racing heart under control, you might have picked up on the way he swallowed nervously.

on the fifth day, you managed to convince the group that your ankle was already much better.

you weren‘t exactly lying, but you weren’t being completely honest either. with rest, ice, and compression, the pain had improved significantly, but walking still wasn‘t as easy as you would‘ve liked.

the thing was, you just couldn‘t trust yourself around jay anymore. the urge to kiss him had completely spiraled out of control. it felt like what you imagined an omega would experience during their heat (not that you had any experience in that regard).

it was hard to keep up the facade of a calm, collected intellectual that was definitely not going insane over a man you’d met not even a week ago. to be fair, that facade had already started crumbling the moment you had outed yourself as a massive nerd, but still. this was worse.

showing him your drawings had been intimate enough, but then painting together—literally your own idea—the day before had been overwhelmingly, unbearably so. being so close to him, it had taken all your willpower not to seize him by his collar, pull him near, and passionately make out with him. but consent and having functioning brain cells were definitely more important, so you held yourself back—just barely.

his ridiculously charming smile, this sunkissed skin, his kind words—they had haunted you in your dreams that night. like okay, we get it. you want him. rein it in, cowboy.

so, for jay‘s own safety and also your sanity, you chose to endure the ache in your ankle as the group explored several towns surrounding lago di garda together.

for lunch, you grabbed fries from a booth and enjoyed them by the lakeside. that was until a seagull came swooping down with a squawk, startling you and causing you to drop your fries. ningning and you left the boys behind on the bench and hurried back to the stall for fresh, dirt-free fries.

"you still haven't kissed her?" sunghoon asked incredulously.

jay shook his head grimly. "i've already told you, i really shouldn't."

“but you want to?“ sunghoon pressed.

jay’s face contorted as if he were in pain. “yeah.“

"we‘re leaving in two days. if you want to kiss the girl, then kiss the girl, my dude. don‘t overthink it. it‘s not like you‘re pretending to be in love with her just to get your dick wet.“

"i didn‘t want to come here in the first place,“ jay said, choosing not to comment on sunghoon‘s blunt choice of words. “i wish i could take her out properly. buy her flowers. a kiss on the third date, if everything goes well and she likes me enough. not… whatever this is."

sunghoon seemed about to say more but quickly closed his mouth when he saw you and ningning approaching.

you stayed by ningning‘s side for most of the day, like a child hiding behind its mother, avoiding interacting with jay as much as possible. you could feel his eyes boring into your back as you walked ahead of him at a safe distance.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the sky that evening was a canvas painted with the most breathtaking array of colors, transitioning from deep oranges and fiery reds near the horizon to softer pinks and purples higher up. you had dinner back at the hotel and were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking wine.

“oh, just imagine what the lake must look like right now,“ you mused dreamily, resting your head on your hands.

"why don‘t you go and see for yourself?" asked ningning, busy playing sudoku on her phone.

"i don't want to walk back alone in the dark. unless," you draped an arm around her shoulder, "you want to come with me."

ningning chuckled as she removed your arm. "do you know how many blisters i have from all the walking i've been doing?“

"i could come with you," came the suggestion from jay. all heads turned to him. sunghoon smirked at his friend. had he finally grown some balls?

you hesitated. was this really a good idea? you‘d been avoiding him all day for a very good reason.

but the sunset was so exceptionally beautiful; it might not be like this again before you left! oh, you‘d be fine.

so the two of you began the descent down to the lake once more—though you maintained a respectful distance to your companion. the scene was more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined. the tranquil water of the lake mirrored the spectacular explosion of color in the sky. each ripple on the surface created by the evening breeze seemed to capture a fragment of the sunset, turning the water into a shimmering expanse of gold, pink, and lavender.

you were so entranced by the magical sunset that you momentarily forgot you were supposed to go absolutely feral for the man by your side.

it wasn‘t until the first stars began to twinkle faintly in the night sky, that you stopped walking along the shore taking pictures. the pebbles were cold against your skin as you settled down. siting there, you scrolled through the pictures you‘d taken, fireflies dancing around your heads as you admired what had just been lost to the horizon.

"back home, there is nothing nearly as pretty as this," you said softly.

"back home there is no one as pretty as you either."

you turned your head in surprise. now way you‘d heard him correctly. jay wore a serious expression, his gaze unwavering as he reached to cup your face, brushing a loose strand of hair to the side with his thumb. his eyes dropped to your lips.

“i know this is soon, but i’ll go insane if i don’t ask. can i kiss you?“

you blinked at him, your mind momentarily blank. there were things to be considered here but your brain did not seem to want to produce any thoughts, distracted by the sight of his plump lips and his soft touch. his thumb gently grazed your cheek.

"i only want to do this if you do too. i was trying to resist, but whenever i look at you, my heart starts pounding like crazy, and i keep on wondering if you taste just as sweet as you are."

"okay," you whispered against his lips, almost touching but not quite.

"i need a definite yes," he insisted.

"yes," you breathed out. "kiss me. please,” the last word came out almost pleadingly.

with that, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours. his movements were gentle, almost shy at first. jay moved his other hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately.

he let his forehead rest against yours, noses brushing against each other.

"wow," he breathed. you hummed in response, eyes still closed, trying to savor the moment.

you kissed him again, this time tangling your hands in jay's soft black strands while he let his wander down to respectfully rest on your waist. he responded to your kiss almost immediately, deepening it with much enthusiasm. lips parted and met with more vigor than before. the sounds that escaped your lips were all sorts of desperate as he caressed the soft curves of your body.

“finally, my omega is getting what it wants.“

you hadn‘t even realized you‘d said it until he pulled away, confusion in his eyes.

“what?“ he asked, still dazed from the kiss.

“oh, uh… have you ever heard of the omegaverse? a/b/o fics? well, how do i put it? humans are divided into alphas, betas, and omegas. and like omegas have these heat cycles, and when they go into heat, they need a lot of… um, GDDing or they‘ll go insane. good deep dicking? no? so, when they go into heat, they release all those pheromones which the alphas can smell and like they‘ll lose their minds if they don‘t do the GDDing immediately. and then there‘s knotting. that‘s when the alpha‘s penis swells and becomes engorged and then—“

“y/n,“ jay interrupted gently, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately, “i love your ramblings, i really do, and i promise you can tell me all about it later if you’d like. but right now, there‘s something else we could be doing instead?“

you swallowed nervously. “right.“

your own inner omega in heat activated again as soon as he started nibbling on your lower lip. you clung to him desperately, afraid he might let go, eagerly chasing his lips the moment he pulled away even just a little. he tugged you closer, positioning you to straddle him, allowing for a more comfortable angle to kiss. your head was quiet for once, allowing you to simply enjoy the sensation of being touched.

with his mouth on yours and his hands clawing at your waist, you never wanted this moment to end. the heat between you intensified, the world fading into a distant background. every touch, every desperate caress fueled a fire within you, igniting a longing that was almost scary, so intense and foreign was it.

eventually, though, you had to part to catch your breaths. jay rubbed soothing circles on your back with one hand, holding your face in his other as he stared into your eyes, whispering sweet nothings.

there were so many things you wanted to say, but didn't. thoughts of your fiancé back home flooded your mind.

jay continued to whisper sweet nothings as he held you in his arms, but there was so much that was left unspoken between you.

you needed to tell him. maybe he‘d know what to do, how to make this work. not now though; it‘d only ruin this sweet moment. you‘d do it tomorrow.

when each other's bodies were no longer enough to keep you warm, you decided to return to the hotel. he held your hand as you walked up the winding path, each squeeze communicating unspoken words, a silent exchange of emotions.

he bid you goodnight, his lips grazing your forehead. you were left a blushing mess as you went to sleep. ningning's light snores accompanied you as you were gradually transported to dreamland.

"what do you mean they're gone? how can they just be gone? they weren‘t supposed to leave until tomorrow." ningning said, her voice tinged with disbelief. soobin gulped nervously.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know the details. it seemed like an emergency,“ he replied, conveying what little information he had.

gone. they had left without a word. you felt your chest tighten as the reality of their sudden disappearance set in. the abruptness of his departure felt like a slap, leaving a raw, aching void where his presence had been.

“jay did ask me to give you these, though.“ soobin handed you the little frog figurines jay had bought on the first day. a small note was stuck to the underside of the one that resembled you.

i am sorry, please do not hate me. thank you for everything. you truly are special.

ningning and you had no choice but to spend the remainder of your last day alone. sulking by the pool, you lamented the short time spent together. one more day wouldn‘t have been much, but they hadn‘t even left their numbers or any other way to contact them. it was like a punch to the gut, not only to you but to ningning as well.

you wondered if there really had been an emergency. maybe you‘d managed to scare him away with your omagaverse talk. “you truly are special,“ you muttered to yourself bitterly. he probably meant special as in a fucking lunatic. god, who talked about knotting in the middle of making out? at least you hadn‘t gotten to mpreg yet or he'd have bolted immediately.

the next day you boarded an early flight back to seoul. you held onto a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, your mother would at least be relieved you returned safely. any normal parent would be concerned when their child disappeared for a couple of days without a word. only you didn’t have normal parents.

instead of relief, you were greeted with cold fury as your mother watched you enter through the front door. she barely spoke a word, grinding her teeth as she commanded you to go to your room, treating you as if you weren‘t a grown adult.

your room was your sanctuary, your safe space amidst the chaos that was your family. four large shelves divided into regular novels and manga held your literary treasures alongside funko pops of your favorite fictional characters (lots of todoroki and sailor moon). there had been instances where your mother had tried to throw everything out, hell, she’d even torn up some of your books, but you refused to let that force you into submission.

in one last desperate attempt to escape your situation, you chopped off most of your hair. if your “fiancé“ was anything like your, and presumably his, parents then he might just straight up refuse to marry you the moment he‘d see you. you thought the short hair suited you, but people could be incredibly shallow in such matters. you hoped this was one of those times.

“what have you done?“ your mother‘s sharp tone was a mixture of disappointment and outrage. she paced back and forth, gesturing to the remnants of hair strewn across the bathroom floor. “you knew how important today was!“

your mother took a step forward, her face flushed with anger. “you never listen, do you?“ she barked, her voice trembling. “you never consider anyone but yourself.“

you squared your shoulders, meeting her gaze defiantly. “maybe i‘m tired of trying to please you, mother.“

"i‘m trying to protect our family‘s interests,” she retorted, “and sometimes that means making sacrifices for the greater good. this merger with their family‘s hotel chain is crucial for our future. can‘t you see that?“

no matter how you pleaded or reasoned, nothing could sway your mother. you understood how important this merger was to your family‘s business empire, and you weren‘t so ignorant that you couldn‘t acknowledge the potential benefits. yet, you didn‘t understand why you were the one who had to sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of the family. one that had never cared about you, at that.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the restaurant picked out for this pivotal first meeting with the chosen family exuded opulence and refinement, its interior bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers that reflected off polished wood and marble accents. as you arrived, the other family was already seated at a table near a large window overlooking a serene garden.

the mother of your fiancé greeted yours with a firm handshake, her slender figure clad in a tailored designer suit and exquisite diamonds dangling from her ears. she stood up gracefully upon your entrance, obscuring your view to the man seated behind her.

"park jiyoung, meet y/n, my daughter,” your mother introduced, her tone awfully chippy. “unfortunately, there was an accident at the hairdresser‘s, so please excuse the hair. i‘m sure it will grow out soon.“

under mrs. park’s scrutinizing gaze, which rivaled your own mother’s, discomfort pierced you like a dagger.

"welcome, y/n, to our family. it's nice to finally meet you.“ the fake smile on her lips suggested she hadn’t yet quite approved of you as the most suitable match for her son.

“and this is the pride of our family, park jongseong. i believe you‘ve met."

she stepped to the side, revealing the man sitting behind her. he stood up and reluctantly stepped forward.

he was wearing a dark blue suit that elegantly emphasized his broad shoulders, while his neatly styled black hair gleamed under the soft chandelier lights. his eyes, dark and narrow, were cast downward toward the natural stone flooring. there, discreetly nestled against the skin of his neck, you saw a detail that momentarily froze time for you.

a heart-shaped birthmark.

memories flooded your mind — turquoise waters, steep mountainsides, fireflies swirling around your head, fingers digging into the softness of your skin. standing before you now as park jongseong, the man chosen to be your husband, was unmistakably your jay. the one who had kissed you and told you you were special.

the same jay now seemed less surprised than you felt. he avoided meeting your eyes, looking like a guilty puppy caught in the act, and a suspicion stirred within you that made your stomach churn. you felt sick. impossible, you thought. but looking at the man, no, the stranger in front of you, you weren‘t so sure.

his gaze darted around the room, landing everywhere but on you, as if unable to face the weight of your shared history and the unspoken questions hanging between you. every instinct in you yearned to reach out, to demand answers, to plead with him to acknowledge the bond that had once felt so real. yet, his avoidance spoke louder than words, filling the air with a painful silence that echoed the betrayal you felt.

had it all been just an act?

a/n: omg i love you sm if you made it to the end! reblogs, likes & feedback are always highly appreciated 🫶�� 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ngl i hope y'all don't hate me for not making this a cute simple love story LMAOO i'm already working on a part 2

here are pictures of lago di tenno btw! i didn’t lie about the color

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