#guys who’s been going through it for the last 8 months with no break from the It:

[littlemisskookie]

Catch Me If You Can

Catch Me If You Can

Ship: Crush!Jungkook x Annoying!Reader

Description: You lived to get under Jungkook’s skin, constantly trying to rile him up and annoy him just to get a reaction. What happens when, during a cabin trip with friends, you accidentally push too far?

Warnings: PRIMAL PLAY, (primal kink go brrrrrr), Slight Dub-Con, Exercise (we hate running), More Exercise (we love fucking), Degradation, Humiliation, Praise, Choking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Dom!Jungkook, Mad!Jungkook (deserves its own warning), Manhandling, Restraining, Teasing, Reader is Annoying AF for the plot, Pussy Slapping, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex?

Word Count: 10.3k

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this oneshot! I had a particularly good time writing it up. Please enjoy!

It was a hot summer day when your van strode up to the cabin. Though the roads had been shit, rocky terrain and winding paths to get through the mountains, your arduous journey had come to an end. At last, you could escape the cramped quarters of Yeri's Sedan, stretch your limbs and breathe in the fresh air the wilderness offered. Granted, you would have to squeeze through the extra luggage you guys had crammed in the back with you and Jimin, slipping between the seats and waiting for everyone else to climb out first, courtesy of the two of you sitting in the very back closest to the trunk— but it was well worth the sacrifice.

From your position in the very back you were able to stare at the back of Jungkook's head for a full 8 hours, with him being none the wiser. God, you were a creep for getting satisfaction from that, but you were a woman obsessed. Seeing every time his tattooed fingers would comb through his hair, or the occasional stretches from sitting in the same place for too long, it was a view you were glad you didn't miss from any other seat. Yeri and her boyfriend Jaehyun, who was driving, were sitting in the very front, which left four seats in the back. Jungkook had opted for the middle right, and though being seated right next to him may seem optimal, it would make it too obvious that you were constantly staring. A habit you couldn't keep in check for the life of you. Unfortunately, the sight of Jungkook was irresistible. Instead you let Taehyung take the chosen spot, with you and Jimin sitting in the back with the leftover duffel bags and backpacks you were unable to cram in the trunk.

Not that you were complaining. You could deal with a little less leg room with the privacy you were granted to creep all you'd like. Jimin, sweetheart that he is, was asleep for the majority of the trip, snoring away except for the occasional gas station breaks and rest stops. You were able to peak over Jungkook's shoulder a few times to see what he was up to, but it was mainly doodling in his notebook or playing ad-free games on his phone. No insightful texts for you to spy on or gain intel from.

"Fucking finally!" Jaehyun killed the engine, stopping the radio along with it.

"Thank you for getting us home safely, baby." Yeri reached over the center console to give her boyfriend a kiss, much to the disgust of her brother Tae.

You looked over to Jimin, who was still snoozing, mouth agape and head leaning back in his neck pillow. Shaking his shoulder, you rose him from the dead. "Jimin, buddy, we're here already."

"Here" was a 2 story cabin in a heavily wooded, rural area located in the mountains. With a heated pool and far from civilization, it was the perfect place to recenter and take a breather from every day life. It was a popular destination primarily in the fall and winter, but the six of you were able to get a good price on it for the summer, all of you pitching in on the AirBnB months in advance for this getaway. You were particularly ecstatic about it. Five whole days stuck in a cabin with Jungkook? It was a fanfiction come to life! Granted, you'd prefer it were just the two of you and you had been snowed in, as the story line typically goes, but you'll take what you could get.

Jungkook, who was Taehyung's best friend, had been the object of your not-so secret affections for quite some time now. Always quiet, almost broody, he was a gorgeous specimen who barely even spared you a glance.

Granted, you did your best to annoy him at any opportune moment. Anything to get his attention. Seeing as you were Yeri's best friend, you might as well have been Taehyung's second obnoxious younger sister. Both you and Jungkook were constantly at the Kims' house, giving you ample time to be in his business and know the details of his personal life.

You swore sometimes he hated you, but if he did, he didn't outright show it. When you'd do your best to tease him or get a rise out of him, he'd ignore you or brush off your attempts. Those were the worst. You hated the indifference he gave you. All you wanted was a reaction, to see that pretty face contort into something besides boredom around you for once. Even if it were a joking smile or a grimace or a scowl— you wanted it so bad. Anything to get his eyes to finally lock with yours for more than a second. Anything to get him to notice you.

Then again, after years, you still hadn't gotten much from him. It was as though he were impervious to your feeble attempts. Perhaps he had gotten used to it in your younger years, knowing exactly how to make you tick and truly boil with rage inside. Perhaps he simply never cared. Either way, it was a habit you were unable to break at this point, still acting like a kid with a playground crush, teasing just to get a reaction.

It was the only types of interactions you really got with him anyways.

Jimin, Taehyung's other friend, grumbled as you shook him, looking up and out of the window at the greenery before him. He blinked slowly, taking in his surroundings and turning to you. "How long was I out?"

"Two days," you joked, eyes wandering to Jungkook slipping out of the car. You shimmied between the seats, grabbing your duffle bag with you as you climbed out. "Good luck getting proper sleep tonight. You were pretty knocked out of it."

You stretched your arms overhead, relieving the ache in your shoulders and legs and massaging the sore muscles. You watch Jungkook do the same, observing the sliver of skin revealed as his t-shirt rose up. Thank god this place had a pool. You couldn't wait to see Jungkook shirtless again, to see if his abs had gotten more defined, if his shoulders got any broader, if his biceps got any bigger. Had he gotten any more tattoos in addition to the full sleeve he sported? Your mouth watered at the thought.

"Home sweet home!" Yeri cheered, approaching the front door and putting the code into the lockbox attached to the door knob.

You circled around the car to where Taehyung was opening the trunk. Grabbing onto the handle of your suitcase, you yanked it from the pile, nearly falling on your ass in your attempt.

"Woah! Do you need help with that?" Taehyung questioned (after laughing at your expense). "Yo, Kook! Can you come give Y/N a hand with her bag?"

Your heart practically leapt at the thought as Jungkook approached, immediately grabbing your suitcase as if it weighed nothing.

"How much shit did you pack? We're only going to be here a week," he grunted, reaching for your duffel too. "Go ahead and give me that too."

"Sure you can handle all of that?" you teased, but give him the bag anyway.

"Better than you, that's for sure. You'll be wheezing like an old man trying to carry these upstairs."

He was right about that. You were excited to see him do it, though, seeing his muscles pump up and strain, veins prominent in his hands and forearms as he carried them for you. Sure, Taehyung had told them to do it, but you could let yourself fantasize for a moment that he did so for you. For such an introverted nerd, he was surprisingly a gym rat, with much of his time with Taehyung now spent at the gym.

You obediently followed him into the cabin and up the stairs, getting a great view of his ass. Fuck you needed to stop perving over this man, but you couldn't help it.

Yeri and Jaehyung were going to be downstairs in the master bedroom, where there was one other bedroom for Jimin. Upstairs there were two more bedrooms, one where you'd be solo and the other for Taehyung and Jungkook to share. (Or perhaps Jungkook and Jimin would switch. Taehyung had simply insisted he did not want to sleep anywhere near Yeri and her boyfriend.)

Following Jungkook into what was presumably your room, you took in the space. It was very much a cozy vibe, with western decor and lots of mahogany. The bed was easily big enough for two people.

"Where do you want it?"

Your pulse quickened as you looked at Jungkook with wide eyes.

"Wa— Hm?" You corrected yourself quickly before you could blurt out the words "want it". No need for him to know where your dirty mind had wandered.

"Your bag."

"Oh. On the bed's fine." It'd be fine for you guys to do it, too. You could already see him spread out on the comforter, a meal waiting to be devoured. You tried to wipe the thought from your mind before you started to drool. There'd be plenty of time to fantasize about that later, and all while he was in the bedroom right next to you.

Jungkook dropped the duffel onto the sheets, turning to head out.

"Wait!" You internally curse yourself. "Er, do you need help with your bags, perhaps?"

He raised a brow. "You really think you'd be much help?"

"I mean, your bag is probably lighter than mine. Unless you packed dumbbells are something." You couldn't help but grin at the thought. "Bet a gym rat like you would get withdrawals from being away for so long."

He scoffed at that. "I think I'll manage just fine one week without."

"I dunno." You practically sang the words. "I think I see your biceps deflating already. You haven't been slacking off or anything lately, have you?"

He rolled his eyes, ignoring your comments and leaving your bedroom. You let out a huff of disappointment, grumbling as you tossed yourself onto your bed, kicking at the sheets in frustration. You just wanted him to stay in your room even a minute longer. Then again, if you had the opportunity you'd probably lock him in here. Chain him to the bed and ride him into the sunset if you were feeling truly psycho. (Which, don't worry, you weren't. At least for the time being.)

—

The day after, the six of you were huddled on the carpet in the foyer after binging the newest episodes of Love Island, glasses of wine in hand. Well, you, Yeri, and Taehyung had wine in hand. Jaehyun and Jungkook had opted for sake, and poor Jimin was already slumped over on the couch from it, no doubt in need of the sleep he evaded last night from his extraneous car nap.

The remaining five of you were playing a drinking game, where one wanted to collect as many of the cards as possible through whatever truth or dare was written on it, or be forced to drink. You were currently working through your third glass of wine, careful not to go to the fourth as you knew it would bring you into solid messy-drunk territory. Yeri was undoubtedly sloshed at this point, her face flushed and rosy as she leaned against Jaehyun.

Jungkook wasn't the least bit drunk, it seemed, only taking one shot and successfully pulling off most of the requests the cards demanded of him. He had a pretty impressive selection, whereas you opted for sips of your wine instead. 

Yeri picked up the card, grinning as she read what was on it. "When was the last time you had sex?" She squealed, giggling as she further nuzzled against her boyfriend. "Well me and Jae—"

"Nope! Quit it!" Taehyung interrupted, snatching the card from her hand, his ears tinged pink from both being flustered and the alcohol. "I do not need to be hearing about that."

"But Taeeeee I don't wanna take another drink," Yeri whined, reaching for the card, which Taehyung held out of her grasp.

"Someone else can do it for you. I do not want to hear anything about my sister's sex life," Taehyung said with disgust. He turned to you, card pointed between two fingers. "Y/N?"

"Oh-ho-ho, you want to hear about my sex life then?" you joked, taking the card from him.

"Better yours than my sister's," Tae grumbled.

Still, you weren't sure if you wanted to share the truth. However, knowing Yeri's drunk state, she'd undoubtedly call you out on it if you told anything but.

Your cheeks flushed further, this time with embarrassment. The truth was you hadn't gotten laid in almost half a decade. But in your defense your vibrator and fantasizes of Jungkook had brought out more orgasms than any of the guys you hooked up with in college, and you weren't in the mood to set yourself up for disappointment. No one could compare to the fantasies in your head, so you'd everyone a favor and not waste anyone's time.

Jungkook nudged you with his shoulder after you took too long pondering. "Are you going to answer or what?"

You normally would've been elated for the brief physical contact, but instead it served as a reminder of his presence for this question. It also made this harder to avoid.

"Do I really have to? I'm not sure it'd be suited for Jimin's delicate ears."

"I'm pretty sure he's snoozing again anyway," Jungkook shrugged, tilting his head to the friend. "Go ahead and do it if you're brave enough."

Well, there was no other option with that. For once you shy away from his gaze, turning your head away as you stare at the card in your hand.

"Four years," you admit quietly.

Taehyung guffawed. "Four years? How have you gone that long? I can barely make it a few weeks."

"Ew ew ew! Now why do I have to hear that?" Yeri complained, shoving at her brother. "He's right though. We need to get you laid, girlfriend."

"Shut uuuup guys," you groaned. "It's not that hard. There's just... There hasn't been someone I wanted to do that with." Who wanted to do it with me, too.

Yeri's eyes lit up with drunken mischievousness. "What about—"

Jaehyun slapped his palm over her mouth, no doubt knowing exactly what she was going to say. Jaehyun, having been Yeri's long time boyfriend, knew all too well about your long standing crush on Jungkook. No need for her to blurt it out to the rest of the room. "I think it's about time I get you to bed."

Yeri weakly protested, but before long her boyfriend successfully dragged her back to their bedroom, and you're left with the other three.

"How come you haven't gotten with anyone in so long?" Taehyung asked, nosy as ever.

You tossed your card in your pile, picking up your wine glass to take a gulp this time. "No one's wanted me I guess."

"Bullshit. I told you last year my friend Jaemin was into you and you never even hit him up." Damn Taehyung.

"He's cute and all just..." You did your best not to glance at Jungkook, instead observing him from your periphery. "I have this idea in mind of what I want things to be like, and I know no one can live up to expectations."

"You sure you're not just too picky or something?" Taehyung chuckled. You wondered for a second if he was also in on your worst-kept-secret.

"Maybe," you admitted. "But it's not worth wasting people's time. I mean, I'm sure eventually I'll find someone who will make me want to at least try."

"And no one has for four years?" Jungkook finally spoke up.

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks at his direct inclusion. No, you wanted to scream. No one but you! "We can't all be easy," you said defensively. Who knew how many other women Jungkook had been with while you were stuck pining.

"We can't all be prudes, either," Jungkook shot back.

That was unlike him. And it stung. You locked eyes with him, and he held your stare, unyielding for once.

"You know, I think it's about time someone gets Jimin to bed. He's going to complain about back pain if we let him stay in that position on the couch any longer," you redirected, breaking off the stare and looking away, ending the game. Suddenly it didn't feel like fun anymore.

Taehyung groaned. "You're probably right."

As he moved to carry his friend back to his room, you exited, wanting as much space from Jungkook right now as possible. You felt embarrassed for the way he called you out like that. Did he really think you were a prude? Someone who wouldn't put out because she was... what? Too good to? Too scared to?

You got up to leave, the air inside suddenly feeling much too stuffy for your tastes. You needed some space from Jungkook and his words, letting your cheeks burn a little less and get your mind off internalizing the interaction. In the backyard now, you headed to the pool, sitting down to dangle your feet in the water, the LED lights from within surrounding you in a near neon blue. You tilted the glass back to your lips, getting whatever leftover drops of wine there was to offer. You definitely pushed too far with the "easy" comment. Served you right for being an annoying brat.

You let yourself dip further into the pool, submerging yourself in the heated water as you put down the glass. It felt comforting to be in here, clothes and all, though you were only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear, having pre-prepared for sleep. She shirt floated along with you, drifting around your waist and upper thighs as you glided through, feeling the warm water kiss your bare skin and bring comfort. Sometimes when you were feeling especially weird you'd float in pools like these and pretend you were back in your mother's womb, safe and protected from the inevitable mistakes that would come with living.

You needed to calm yourself, erase the mistakes of a few minutes before in your mind. You move your arms and float within, keeping yourself upright until you tilt back, laying on the surface as you idly glide along the water. Staring up at the stars, they seemed so much brighter than back home. You could clearly make out a few constellations. Orion's Belt, the big and little dippers...

"What're you doing out here?"

Your peaceful swim is brought to a halt, and you righten yourself to see Jungkook staring down at you.

Why was he out here?

"Swimming."

"I see that," Jungkook said. "You shouldn't swim when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," you denied.

"Yeah you are. Your limit is three glasses, and you just finished your third." He looked pointedly at the glass left on the edge. So he had noticed how many you took. And knew you couldn't have more than four.

Well, of course he'd know that. The first time you tried wine was when you were sleeping over at the Kims', and you and Yeri had killer hangovers that resulted in the entire guest bathroom being wiped down. To be fair the two of you didn't know that wine got bad after it was opened, and the bottles that had been hidden in the bar had been there for years.

"So what?" You felt like a petulant child, turning away from him. You were still embarrassed, and weren't expecting to interact or see him again until at least morning. You figured he'd be helping Taehyung with Jimin.

"So you should get out of the pool and dry off." He dropped a towel by the edge. Had he brought that with him?

"What're you gonna do if I don't? Come get me?" You couldn't help but tease. Part of you really wanted him to.

"Funny," Jungkook huffed. He squatted down, the lights from the pool causing the shine of the moving water to dance across his face, illuminating him beautifully. "Can you get out now, please?"

"I don't wanna." You swam a bit further away from him to the other side. You had half the mind to stick your tongue out at him.

There's a beat of silence.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook said. That you didn't expect.

You stilled, keeping your place in the water as you tried to process his words.

"I shouldn't have called you a prude," Jungkook continued. "You have standards. That's commendable. I'm sorry if we— I, made you feel like shit about it. It was wrong."

You held your breath, and it helped you float a bit more. You couldn't believe Jungkook was apologizing to you. Your back was still turned to him, so luckily he couldn't see your expression.

"Are you mad at me?" he questioned.

You swallowed, trying to collect your thoughts. "No." You turn your head to the side, still not directly looking at him. "I'm... sorry too. I shouldn't have insinuated you were easy." If he were, maybe then he'd give you a chance.

"It's fine. C'mon, let me get you out."

He held his hand out to you, and you giddily swam up to him. His large hand completely dwarfed your own, and a small part of your gremlin brain gave you an impulsive thought that drunk-you simply couldn't resist.

You tugged, watching him fall headfirst into the pool, water splashing everywhere as he submerged completely beneath. You let out a maniacal laugh as his head popped up from the surface, a mix of surprise and rage on his features. You had never seen that on his face before.

"Now we're even!" You cackled, watching him sputter out whatever water had gotten into his mouth.

"You are so lucky I didn't have any electronics on me!" he exclaimed. He swam towards you, causing you to squeal and try and swim away. "Oh no you don't!"

His large hands grip your waist, pulling you against him as you wriggle and try to escape his hold.

"Look who's ma-ad!" you breathily wheezed, endlessly amused by the anger on his face. You couldn't help it. You finally got under his skin, and like the child you were, it brought you so much delight. So much satisfaction.

"Of course I'm mad, you're being an absolute brat right now."

"I've never seen you this mad," you continued, grinning up at him. "It's so hard to get a rise out of you."

"You still try, though."

"I do," you admitted, looking up at him cockily. "And today I succeeded."

"C'mon, brat, let's get out of here before I get a cramp from keeping us both afloat." He tugged you closer to his chest, and you feared he might feel your heartbeat quicken.

You tried to squirm out, but his arm his ironclad around your waist as he dragged you closer to the edge. "I can swim on my own!"

"I'm not letting you." Jungkook finally let go of you, only to lift you up with both hands and sit you on the ledge. You're blessed with the sight of him hoisting himself up as well, and the outline of his abs and chest through the now transparent white shirt assured you your little prank was well worth the trouble. He grabbed the towel he had brought before and dumped it on your head, pressing a large hand down and rubbing the fabric into your hair. "Dry," he commanded.

You begrudgingly did as you're told, rubbing the towel over your head and face. Luckily it was still a hot summer night, so it wasn't as though you were freezing when you got out.

You dried as best as you can, wringing your shirt out and offering him the now partially-damp towel. Admiring him while he was partially distracted, you couldn't help but replay the image of his irritated face in your head over and over again, and how much you liked it.

"Thank you," you quietly mumbled, almost hoping he wouldn't catch it. "For coming to get me out."

"Well... I was concerned I upset you." He finished patting himself down. "Besides, now we're even."

—

After that, you made many more feeble attempts at catching Jungkook's attention. Asking him to reach dishes on the higher shelves when you'd typically have no issue climbing on top of countertops. Knocking on his bedroom door to see what he was up to— though most times it was just Taehyung. One time you accidentally popped in on the elder in the midst of changing, which was embarrassing. No more of that.

Sometimes you accidentally succeeded, however. Like during your hike through the mountains as a group, your left knee started audibly clicking with every step. You tried to swallow the pain, but with how bruised your feet felt and how often you had to stop the group to take a breather, it was becoming difficult. Curse you for being the least athletic of the whole group. You should've joined Yeri in volleyball sophomore year when you had the chance.

Jungkook, chivalrous gentleman has he was, begrudgingly insisted that you climb on his back the rest of the trek down. Not that you really minded, though, feeling his steady heartbeat through his back and wrapping your arms around his shoulders and neck was a dream come true for you. You simply felt embarrassed that you had caused all the trouble, and not even on purpose this time.

On the final day before you all were set to head back home, however, you officially crossed a line.

You hadn't even intended for the night to go the way it did. It was 2 in the morning, and most everyone was already asleep in preparation for the long drive tomorrow. You, though, were a well known insomniac, with tonight being no exception.

Imagine your surprise when you stumbled across Jungkook, lying across one of the pool chairs, tiny sketchbook in hand. He looked fine as hell, hoodie hiding most of his tattoos, gym shorts showing the expanse of his muscled thighs. You were so upset this was your last day living with him, able to invade his space so easily.

With a devilish grin you snuck up behind him, snatching it from above to get a better look. Unfortunately you lost the page he had been working on, and flipping through the earlier pages you recognized the anime and flower sketches he had been working on during the ride here. "May I?"

"Y/N!" Jungkook's head twisted around as he glared at you, swiping for the book which you quickly held out of reach. He huffed with frustration. "Give that back."

"These are good, Jungkook, no need to be embarrassed," you snickered, flipping over a page to see small doodles. "Don't tell me you've got porn or something hidden in here."

Even through the neon LED lights the pool illuminated, you could see his cheeks burn a slight crimson. Ah, so there was something interesting in here. That or he was particularly attached to it. That only gave you further incentive to mess with him.

He stood from the seat, towering over you as he approached. You took a step back, however, keeping the book outstretched the other way. There was no way you were giving up that easily. Shaking his head, he pressed his tongue against the inside his cheek, irritated. He looked so hot. You were delighted at the sight. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"

"Nope." You flipped over another page, seeing a detailed drawing of a bee and another of a water lilly. Nothing particularly damning yet.

"Why are you always trying to rile me up?" He made a quick move for the book again, but you're quicker, spinning around him and putting it behind your back.

Because it turns me on.

Nope, can't say that, that'd freak him out.

"Cause it's fun," you admitted cheekily. "I rarely get a reaction out of you typically."

"Is this the reaction you're wanting?" He took another step forward, and you take another step back. His eyes were lidded and jaw clenched, irritation prominent in his expression. You're half tempted to run into the woods with the book just to see what secrets he had hidden in it.

"Almost."

"Almost?" he questioned. He glared at you, cocking his head to the side as he studied your mischievous, satisfied expression. "What is it you're wanting?"

Oh, only for you to fuck me where I stand, no biggie.

"Just a bit of fun, clearly. You look like you're about to blow a fuse. There must be something awfully interesting in this book for you to be so territorial over it," you snickered, taking a few more steps back to distance yourself from him and flipping through another page. "I mean, come and get it, if you can."

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, though, because suddenly you hear a very low, very deep: "That's it."

You acted on instinct as you see him lunge towards you, your feet carrying you away without you having to even think about it. Jungkook's hand swiped for you as you dodged, and you were distancing yourself a few feet per second as you dashed away and out of the backyard. Your heart rate skyrocketed as you snapped the journal shut, clutching it to your body as you sprinted into the trees. You're practically flying across the pre-made path, illuminated well enough now by the moonlight over head.

You didn't think it would go this far. You should've given him the journal at that moment, but you acted on instinct, fight or flight mode controlling your every whim as you dove headfirst into the wooded area surrounding the cabin. You stayed along the path, only able to hear your feet beating against the ground and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Maybe you were overreacting, but the look in his eyes as he jumped towards you said one thing: Run.

You looked behind, certain you had been quick enough to lost him, but you see his shadowy form gaining on you. And fast.

Fuck!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

You shrieked, making a sharp right off the trail and through the trees. You couldn't even remember the last time you had been chased. It must've been when you were a kid at summer camp. This was nothing like those games of tag, however. The fear coursing through your veins, the danger that was approaching from behind, all of it had given you a surge of adrenaline you had never encountered before.

Your breathing was quick as you dodged branches and swerved between the trunks. Luckily it wasn't autumn, otherwise the crunch of the dead leaves beneath your feet would give away your location. Then again, you had no clue where Jungkook had went either.

You didn't think Jungkook would hurt you. No, you knew he wouldn't.

But you didn't know what he was going to do when he caught you, either. And with how fast he clearly was, it seemed like an inevitability.

You internally cursed, spinning around one of the trees and pressing yourself against the bark, breathing through your nose and trying to make as little noise as possible. Fuck, you couldn't even see the trail or the cabin any more. How deep had you gotten? What if you weren't able to find your way back at this rate?

Panicked, you look around, your eyes now adjusting to the darkness. You're able to take a few slower, deeper breaths, relieved you had lost him.

But the relief didn't last long.

A large hand slammed against the bark next to you, Jungkook popping out from around the trunk. His eyes looked like one of a beast's, dark and ominous as he narrowed in on you. You screamed, ducking beneath and around the other side, barreling further into the dense forest. How had he caught up to you so fast? Why was he so determined?

Your shallow, fast breaths were getting louder now as you pumped your body for all you had, using all of your strength to get away as quickly as possible. You weren't going to make the mistake of looking back again— you knew he was right behind you.

And suddenly you felt arms caging in around your waist, Jungkook's catching you and yanking you to him, sending you both straight to the ground as his body weight crushed yours. The ground bit at your skin, all the breath being pushed out of your lungs as he fell on top of you, the crash chaotic and no doubt leaving bruises from where you landedp. The book flew out of your hands as both of you tumbled down. You scrambled trying to get out from under him, arm outstretched and fingers spread as you try and reach for the book which was just a few inches away, when his larger one engulfs your wrist, twisting you around and manhandling you to flip you on your back.

You had fantasized about Jungkook on top of you many times before, but never quite like this.

He grabbed your other wrist and pinned it down next to your head, shackling you to the forest floor and forcing you to look up at him. You were able to see far too clearly with your eyes adjusted to the night, the moonlight showing the rage on his beautiful face. He was breathing heavily from the exertion of the chase, chest heaving up and down beneath his hoodie as he glared down at you, a wild look in his eyes. His nostrils flared, mouth parted as he took in greedy gasps of air, his face closer to yours than you were used to. You tried to reach a foot up to kick him in the chest, but he dodged, trapping your thighs between his own. You struggled, pushing your hands up to try and twist out of his iron-clad grip, but he remained firm.

There was another spike of fear that ran through you as you realized he wasn't going to let you go.

Fuck, what had you gotten yourself into?

You were in the belly of the beast, trapped with no hope of escape. You tried and twisted some more, and his grip tightened, keeping you glued to the ground with him practically sitting on top of you. He wasn't even looking for the notebook anymore, all of his attention focused solely on you.

He continued to breathe hard, now deeper as you were both finally at a standstill. "Caught you..." he panted, still trying to catch his breath.

You clenched and unclenched your fists, frustrated with how you were helpless beneath him, now unable to fight back. Offering a weak smile, you tried to catch your own breath. "J-Jungkook..." You hadn't meant for the word to come out so airy, almost like a moan. A plea. "You can have the book back... It's right there."

"I don't want it anymore," he snarled.

You gulped, squirming in his hold, something you could no longer hide given your predicament. "O-Oh," you said shakily, trying to offer a laugh. "Let's... Let's talk?"

"Yeah, let's talk," he sneered, with no intention of letting you out from under him. No doubt you'd try and run away again. You'd probably climb over the mountain if it meant escape. "Why're you always testing me, huh? Trying to get under my skin, irritate me. I've tried so hard with you, tried to be patient, but you just don't know when to quit, do you?"

This time you didn't respond, unable to answer his questions. You weren't sure this was exactly the moment for honesty.

"Thought you wanted to talk, sweetheart."

Fuck, that made your heart flutter despite the situation. You look to the side, anywhere but Jungkook, and instead to the leaves and trees overhead above him. "I-I just like annoying you, that's all."

"That's all, huh?" His fingers flexed around your wrists. "It's almost like you like seeing me angry."

You squirmed again, closing your eyes as you try to kick beneath him, heels digging into the ground as you try to push him off. His body weight didn't give you much wiggle room, though and your weak attempts don't go unnoticed by him. You felt so embarrassed, so small and vulnerable beneath his scrutinizing gaze. You turned your head to the side, wanting to shrink away form his hard stare. He didn't let up, however.

"Nuh uh," he hissed, stretching your arms above your head and trapping both wrists in one hand now. Unfortunately you didn't have enough strength to weasel out of the one. All that time you had spent thirsting over his gym photos, and now it was all being used against you. He roughly gripped your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks as he turned your face from the side and back at him. "Look at me."

Hesitantly, you peeked back up at him, the angry expression you had worked so hard for now glowering down at you.

"Just..." You whimpered, biting your lip with shame. "Just wanted your attention."

The fingers around your face seemed to twitch at that, and his eyes flashed with something you don't recognize. Perhaps surprise? His grip on your wrists tightened, stretching your arms out more to make you squirm with discomfort. "Is that it?" You heard a low, ominous chuckle. "Well congratulations, sweetheart. You finally got it."

Before you could wail out your deepest apologies and beg for his forgiveness, he's tilting your chin up further, craning your neck, and kissing you.

Your eyes widened as you feel the lips you had dreamed of for so long on yours, his tongue delving into your mouth and gliding against yours with ease. He completely dominated you, hand on your jaw now sliding down the column of your throat, feeling every gasp and moan that travelled through it as he took you completely. He lightly squeezed, as though reminding you to behave. He pressed his lips harder against yours, not letting you escape, forcing you to feel every part of him you had been so desperate for. Your head felt like it was spinning, fists furling and unfurling as you finally shut your eyes and tried to kiss him back, tried to keep up and have your body process this faster than your brain could. You were in complete disbelief this was happening. Was this real? Were you actually back home at the cabin, having another sick, twisted wet dream about Jungkook?

It was better than any of your dreams or fantasies could have predicted. The way Jungkook's mouth moved against yours, the secure hold against your neck and bound wrists, the subtle grind he made against you, nothing could compare. It felt better than you had ever hoped, and far, far filthier than you had ever dreamed.

Jungkook finally pulled back, breathless one again, lips now glistening in the moonlight as he stared down at you. You were panting as well, staring up at him with wonder at what he'd done, and what he'd do next. Did he regret it? Did he suddenly come to his senses? Realize it was you he was actually kissing in the middle of the wilderness?

His eyes scoured your flushed expression, traveling down to where your chest sunk and rose with each breath, and your thighs trapped between his. Biting his lip, he lifted to his knees, hands still firmly pinning you down as he shoved a knee between your legs, nudging them apart. "Spread 'em."

Shocked, you did as you're told, slowly opening your legs to his prying eyes, humiliation coursing through your veins. You had gone outside in your pajamas, just some sleep shorts and a tank top, and there wasn't much modesty you could provide.

Jungkook seemed satisfied with the sight, however, moving his other knee between yours as well as he looked down at the tiny shorts that barely covered you now. "Fuck..." He let go of your neck, his grip loosening as he lightly touched the skin available to him, tracing down over your tank top, between your breasts and past your stomach, stopping just above the hemline of your shorts. He's transfixed, eyes drinking in all they could in the dim light. He locked gazes with you again, hard gaze refusing to let you look away. "Do you want me to touch you? Or do you want me to let you go and run away again?"

You gulped, thighs twitching at the thought of either.

"I need an answer, Y/N."

"I-I—" Curse your infernal stammering. You swallowed the saliva that pooled in your throat, trying to collect yourself. "Please... touch me."

Jungkook grunted in response, grabbing onto the waistband of your shorts and roughly tugging them down your legs, revealing a cute pair of pink panties for him to rip apart. He doesn't admire them too long, quickly yanking them down as well to store in the pocket of his shorts. He uses the free hand to roughly pin one of your knees against the ground, keeping you spread for him with no where to hide, your glistening folds shining even in the darkness.

"Fuck, you really like seeing me mad, don't you?" he said under his breath, fingers lightly trailing up from your knee and up your inner thigh. You squirmed under his gaze, flustered and embarrassed at how exposed you were as he continued to unapologetically stare at you, eyes reveling at your bare sex. "Just wanted me to pin you down and fuck you every time you annoyed me, is that it?"

"Y...Yes..." you quietly admitted, hips slightly bucking to try and get his hand closer, to no avail. He pushed against your hip to keep you against the ground, thumb inching closer to where you wanted, rubbing slow circles against the inside of your hip. "Please don't tease."

His nostrils flared at that. "Tease? Like how you tease me all the time? Acting like a little slut just for my attention?"

His hand came down to slap against your wet folds, making your hips jump at the delicious sting. You accidentally let out a moan before you could stop yourself, his hand coming back down to rub against your sex and soothe the pain, traveling between your wet folds and admiring the slick that collected on them.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" You whimpered out the words, tears springing in your eyes.

"God, you're something else..." Jungkook said quietly, as though it were to himself. He let his digits dance against you, teasing around your entrance and clit but never giving you enough. "Every time you'd come begging for my attention, pissing me off, I had to walk away. Because I knew this would happen. Knew I'd just lose it and have to fuck the attitude out of you then and there."

He slipped a finger in and you mewled, pushing further against the hand that bound your wrists together. You weren't able to lift them even a centimeter from the ground. You wanted to reach up and touch him, curl your fingers into his hair and tug, wrap your hands around his forearm and feel the how the tendons worked as he curled his digits inside of you. You dug your heels into the ground, savoring the feeling of Jungkook's finger curling in you repeatedly, the sound of your wetness filling the night air.

"You're so wet for me, took it so easily..." He slipped another digit in, watching you keen as you tried to buck your hips again and greedily swallow him in deeper. "Couldn't just ask me out like a normal person, huh? Had to act like we were still on the playground, just irritate me for fun."

"It worked, didn't it?" you questioned, whimpering as the digits aimed at your g-spot, digging deep into your pressure point, his palm pressed against your mound and grinding against you.

He couldn't help but smile at that. "It did, didn't it?" His hand started moving faster, harder, as though to drive further emphasis to your question. "And now you're going to have to face the consequences."

You felt pressure building up in your abdomen, moaning as Jungkook jackhammered his fingers into you, his thrusts hard and precise. You weren't even able to bring yourself to orgasm this fast, but with Jungkook it seemed like it was about to happen any minute.

Jungkook hovered over you, his face close as he finally let go of your wrists, slapping his palm against your mouth the dull your screams. "Shh, not so loud, sweetheart," he cooed patronizingly, a wicked grin on his face as he saw you struggle and whine, a third finger slipping inside, giving you a delicious burn from the stretch of the girthy digits. "Don't want to wake anyone with those slutty sounds, yeah? Those are all for me."

You were finally able to do as you wished with your hands, both wrapping around his forearm as you felt the muscles move and flex with every curl of his fingers, veins bulging beneath as he worked to get you to the finish line. You couldn't help but let your nails scratch along him a bit, overwhelmed with the onslaught of pleasure he brought. The sound of his palm repeatedly slapping against your wet sex was embarrassingly loud, and the movement of his fingers revealed how into this you were.

"Ah..." Your moan was muffled beneath his palm, but he undoubtedly felt the vibrations against his skin.

"You close? Gonna cum on my fingers already?" His smile was near sadistic as he watched you struggle beneath him. "C'mon, let go for me. So fucking desperate for it."

His thumb came up to dig against your clit, swiping against you as he fingered you to an orgasm. Your toes curled and your thighs quaked, your moan muffled through Jungkook's palm as you arched against the forest floor, bliss overtaking you. Jungkook watched your expression intently, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched you unravel underneath him, eyes crossed and face flushed as you took what he gave you.

He slowed the pumping of his fingers, pulling them out and rubbing the digits against your clit again. You hated the feeling of being empty again, hips rising for his touch so he'd sink further into you again. Jungkook tsked, offering two more sharp slaps to your cunt to quell your disobedience. "I think you're all warmed up for me now."

He took his hand away from your face, shoving the waistband of his gym shorts and boxers down so his erection could spring free. Grabbing your hair, he forced your head to look down at his cock.

"Take a look, sweetheart. It's the dick you wanted so badly."

He gives your cunt one final, harsh smack before he's roughly shoving your legs apart again, knees glued to the grass beneath as he shuffles closer to you, his cock lying against your bare sex. You tried to gyrate against him, feel him harder against you, wondering if the orgasm he gave you would be enough for you to fit all of that inside. He was just as big as you had hoped and girthier than the three fingers that had already stretched you out so well.

Taking his cock in his hand, he slapped it against your pussy, teasing you further, letting you feel the heavy length that threatened to destroy you. He laughed when he saw the tears of frustration shine at the corner of your eyes. You tried to reach for him again, grab his cock and force it in you in one go, but he grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above you much like before. His face was inches from your own now, cocky and smug expression gleefully mocking your tearful, impatient one. "Are you gonna cry?" he questioned with a pout, sliding the cock head along your folds and teasing it against your entrance before bringing it back up to your clit, rubbing harshly to see your legs shake again. "Poor baby."

"Jungkook please just—" you sniffled, straining against his grasp. "C'mon, put it in, please?"

"Why should I, sweetheart, when you've been nothing but a bitchy little brat?" He emphasized his words with a few more harsh slaps, letting go of his cock to smack his palm against your wet folds, enjoying the way your hips jumped up against the ground, as though chasing his touch. He sneered as you sobbed, lower lip trembling. "What makes you think you deserve it?"

"Want it so bad. Worked so hard for it," you cried, lips trembling.

"Yeah?" He took his cock again, lightly pushing it against your entrance only a few centimeters, but still refusing to dive inside. "Gonna stop annoying me all the time? Trying to rile me up? Gonna be a good slut from now on?"

You nodded quickly. "Yes! Yes, I promise!"

He slowly shook his head, tongue digging into his cheek, tsking with disbelief. "Fucking liar."

With that he slowly pushed into you, watching your lips part into an 'o' and he sunk inch by inch into your wet heat, stretching you completely. You couldn't help the moans that escaped you, feeling him go deeper than you had ever experienced before, digging in and pressing against your cervix, right against your lower belly.

"Fuuuuck that's it." He emanated a dark growl from his chest, watching himself sink further into you. "Take it all. That's a good slut."

He finally stopped when his hips are flush with your ass, making you feel everything he had to offer. You felt so full. Never had you been filled so completely before, and the fact that it was Jeon Jungkook was almost enough to make you come undone all over again.

"Fuck, what a good pussy." He let go of your wrists, hands gripping beneath your knees and folding you in half as he pulled his hips back, giving shallow thrusts as he felt you take him. "So good for me sweetheart, shit. Look at you. So fucking pretty. Feel so fucking good for me. 'Course a brat like you gets this wet, fuck."

"You.. You..." You struggled to articulate words, gasping them out as you felt him drive into you, his thrusts getting longer and deeper as he pulled his hips back more, shoving his cock inside you harder to bury himself further into you. "You feel amazing."

He chuckled lowly, stooping over and connecting your lips once again, the kiss messy as he continued barreling his cock as deep inside as he could. "Yeah?" he breathed against you, the wet kissing sounds rivaling the sound of skin slapping against skin, and your wet pussy eagerly trying to swallow me deeper. "Live up to those— fuck— those dirty fantasies of yours, sweetheart?"

"Mmm," you moaned, nails clawing at his hoodie to pull him deeper. "Better."

He laughed at that, mouth fully taking over your own, forcing you to taste him as he reached one hand up to your throat, squeezing to choke you in a way that left you lightheaded. "You're better too, baby," he assured. "Never imagined you'd be this much of a slut for me."

You whimpered against his lips, grinding against him with every thrust, greedily swallowing each kiss and praying this moment would never end. You wanted to be glued against this forest floor with Jungkook forever, with only the trees and night air to hide you both. You tugged at his hoodie, bringing it up, letting your hands freely glide along the chiseled abs you had been obsessed over for years.

He rose, tugging it off quickly before diving back into you, not wasting a second to put his hand back on your throat and his lips back against yours. He wasn't letting you breathe for a second, wanting you lightheaded and dumb on his cock. It was as though he couldn't get enough of you, swallowing every moan and grinding his pelvis against your clit, eager to make you cum again.

"You feel so fucking good baby," he groaned, tugging your tank top up and over your tits, kneading at the flesh beneath his fingers before leaning back and landing another slap on your clit. You squealed, your legs nearly kicking as he brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing hard circles. "C'mon, give me another. Be a good slut for me, c'mon. Cum on the dick you wanted so bad."

He drove you to the edge, making you cum so hard you practically see stars, your body trembling like a leaf as he pounded against you, stimulating every part of you. He leaned back down to swallow your cry, groaning against your mouth as he felt you clench and shake around him, your pitiful cries only driving him harder, faster against you. Unrelenting, like the punishment this was originally meant to be.

"Good girl," he moaned, head burying into your neck to littler kisses all over it, harsh sucks and nibbles to mark you along with the scrapes and bruises you undoubtedly acquired when he tackled you before. "Good f-fuuucking girl."

You buried your hands in his hair, curling your digits between the strands and tugging as he dug his hips against yours, cock nestled in as deep as it could go as he ground his hips against yours, pelvis practically glued against your clit. He pressed himself as closely as he could to you, and you hugged him closer, embracing the feeling of his smooth, bare skin beneath your finger tips. You felt so sensitive from the constant stimulation, tears springing to life again. He noticed, giving a small peck at the corner of one of your eyes.

"Sensitive baby? Need me to stop?"

"No," you tugged him closer, not wanting it to end. "Don't stop."

He laughed, melting into you, one arm still holding himself up above you by the elbow. He pressed his other hand down against your abdomen, "Want another then?"

You squirmed at the thought, and your reaction only made him more determined, pushing further against you and grinding as deep as he could go, feeling himself move inside of you. The tip of his cock pressed against your g-spot, refusing to give you a break as he ground against it, the bulge below your belly button showing exactly how deep he was inside you.

"You're so cute when you cry." He kissed the other tearful corner. "Come on, one more with me. You were so desperate for it earlier. Need to fucking ruin you like the brat you are, c'mon."

He pulled his hips back, heavy thrusts returning as you're forced to take what he gives, feeling the bulge protruding from your lower tummy against the palm of his hand. He kissed you messily again, his tongue casually dominating and sliding against yours smoothly and effortlessly, as though he had been kissing you for years. Like putting you in your place was simply second nature to him. You mewled into his mouth, his thrusts becoming quicker and sloppier as he got closer to finishing. His hand slid down your stomach and back to your clit, and he grinned against your lips as you squealed.

"Fucking pathetic. Desperate for this dick and can't even take it," he teased, panting against your mouth. "Giving up? Little pussy can't take it?"

"I can- I can take it."

"Yeah? You gonna cum on this dick again, sweetheart?" He looked at your fucked out expression, the concentration in your eyes as you look up at him pleadingly. "Cum for me now and maybe I'll fuck you again, how's that sound? Show me you deserve it."

You raked your nails down his bare back, feeling your third orgasm of the night overtake you. Jungkook can feel it, too, his digits on your sex getting as sloppy as his thrusts, trying to milk it out of you.

"C'mon c'mon c'mon, fuuuuck yes take it. Good fucking girl— fuck—" He felt you cum on his cock, thighs trembling, moan ringing out through the night, and it's enough to undo him. He pulled out, stroking himself and biting his lip as he came all over your twitching pussy, letting out a deep, gravelly moan at the sight of you covered in him.

He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you, as both of you caught your breaths, basking in the afterglow of what you had just done.

You held Jungkook in an embrace, feeling his heart rate slow as the minutes pass, his dick softening against your thigh, and the sudden awareness that the two of you were basically naked upon grass in the middle of the woods. The blades tickled at your sweaty back, but you didn't care, absentmindedly combing through Jungkook's hair. While your post-nut clarity was currently fantastic, you were unsure if he was having second thoughts.

Jungkook nuzzled his nose against you, buried in the crook of your neck as he took in a deep breath. Hiding his face from you, he grumbled the words into your skin. "Open the sketchbook."

Right. The sketchbook. The whole reason you had gotten into this predicament in the first place. The reason he had chased you down into the depths of the forest. You looked back to where you had dropped it, and Jungkook sat up and reached for it on your behalf, grabbing it and handing it to you.

You stared at him, confused for a moment. "I don't need to see it, really. You have your right to privacy. I shouldn't have taken it from you. It was a dick move. I was just trying to annoy you."

He laughed a little. "I know. Just open it."

You did as you were told, opening it up and thumbing through the pages. They were the same ones you had seen before. Some anime sketches, some doodles, some wildlife. It wasn't until you got to the final page he had drawn on. It was you. It wasn't finished yet, but it was undeniably a light sketch of you. You blinked, processing it, staring at the page and tracing your fingers lightly over the pencil strokes. Before what had just happened, happened, Jeon Jungkook was sketching you in his journal.

Jungkook let out a breath, as though he had been holding it the entire time you were flipping through the pages. "That's why I was so embarrassed. I didn't... I couldn't sleep. Couldn't get your face out of my head."

You locked eyes, yours wide, almost with disbelief. "Really?" You feel like all of the air had been knocked out of your lungs yet again.

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, as though nervous. "It's not done yet, or anything, but—"

"I love it," you blurted out, grabbing him and kissing him, pressing your lips firmly against his so there'd be no doubt. "Can I keep it?"

He chuckled. "Maybe when it's done. I've got no use for it now with the real thing."

You both share a smile at that, and you reached for the discarded clothes that had been strewn about, no doubt with dirt and grass stains now. "How far did we wander off? I really hope we didn't get lost."

"Nah, I remember the way back. C'mon." He pulled your shorts back up your legs, put back on his hoodie, and grabbed your hand, leading you back towards the cabin. You couldn't believe you were actually holding his hand, his large one engulfing your own, and you could feel how steady his heartbeat was through his palm. True to his words, you made it back home, and surprisingly he ended up falling into bed with you, though purely to sleep. And perhaps not to wake Taehyung.

He never gave you back your panties, though.

—

"All right, everyone, let's get a move on! We've got an 8 hour car ride ahead of us and that's not even including the bathroom breaks I know Taehyung will need!" Yeri shouted, shoving her final bag into the trunk before slamming it shut.

"Excuse you, bitch. Everyone needs those bathroom breaks," Taehyung grumbled, yanking at the back door of the Sedan.

The side door to the back seats slid open, and you climb in to same seat you had been in on the way there. Instead of Jimin, though, the person who came to join you was Jungkook, offering a small smile as he approached. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Yes," you said, but yank your duffel to the floor so the seat was clear. "Sure a muscle pig like you can squeeze in here?"

"I have a talent for squeezing into tight spaces."

You blushed at that, causing Jungkook to laugh at your embarrassment, sitting down next to you. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and making your heart practically leap from your chest.

"Look at you, making the quips for once." You couldn't seem to wipe the grin of your face, and you knew before the end of the ride your cheeks were going to hurt from smiling so much. "Uno reverso, huh?"

"It's about time I did the chasing from now on," he grinned back, squeezing your hand.

Jimin sat down in the middle seat next to Taehyung, confused as to why Jungkook stole his seat. He turned to Taehyung, puzzled. "What happened with them?" he mouthed.

"I don't even know man. Whatever it is, it's about damn time."

[noosayog]

002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!” 

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly. 

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile? 

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says. 

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble. 

“True. But he is an idiot.” 

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale. 

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.” 

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter. 

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?” 

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?” 

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Why not?” 

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it. 

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you. 

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl. 

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently. 

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in. 

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.” 

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps. 

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating. 

“So, found a guy to take you out?” 

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have. 

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.” 

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this: 

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases. 

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both. 

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?” 

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation. 

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim. 

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant. 

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child. 

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!” 

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently. 

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.” 

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice. 

“‘Samu…” 

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.” 

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you. 

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted. 

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight. 

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on. 

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular. 

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter. 

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.” 

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before. 

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.” 

“Dude, nice try,” you had said. 

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night. 

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break. 

“I’ll walk with ya.” 

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit. 

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time. 

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight. 

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway. 

“I’m onto ya,” he starts. 

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.” 

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you. 

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” 

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.  

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face. 

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself. 

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had. 

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway. 

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone. 

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs. 

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?” 

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes. 

“Who?” you mumble. 

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air. 

“I don’t know… I just…” 

“Are ya still in love with my brother?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. 

Osamu raises his brows. 

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.” 

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?” 

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off. 

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin. 

“I wanna get him back,” you admit. 

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!” 

“Huh?” 

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-” 

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.” 

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation. 

“Osamu…” 

“Am I wrong?” 

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before. 

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used. 

His question goes unanswered. 

– 

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu. 

It doesn’t make you miss him any less. 

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around. 

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision. 

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock. 

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth. 

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?” 

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter. 

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-” 

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say. 

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-” 

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu. 

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system. 

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone. 

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.” 

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks. 

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act. 

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory. 

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do. 

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-” 

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out. 

“Hey, ‘Samu!” 

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face. 

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope. 

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy. 

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you. 

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly. 

“You just…?” he prompts. 

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself. 

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.” 

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?” 

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him. 

“Missed you,” you whisper. 

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you. 

“And I like you so much, Osamu.” 

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap. 

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?” 

He stops stroking your hair. 

“What, ya don’t like it?” 

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. 

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him. 

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time. 

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?” 

You nod shyly. 

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.” 

“I want it.” 

“Alright. C’mere then.” 

You oblige. 

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck. 

You nod. 

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?” 

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle. 

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.” 

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth. 

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs. 

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

[il-miele-che-scrive]

the one where Y/n and Charles had different priorities

this is maybe a bit chaotic because I had one idea and unclear vision, but I like how it turned out eventually

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username1 How do you know? HOW DO YOU KNOW?!

username2 They have WHAT

username3 nah I don't believe in love anymore

username4 But they were together since even before Charles was in formula 1🥺

↳username2 Right? I thought they'll be together forever

username5 And there goes my hope for them to announce an engagement soon

↳username6 Sameeee except I thought someday they'll just have a secret wedding and not tell the media until weeks/months after

username5 Ngl that sounds like a them thing to do

username6 Well, not anymore

username7 My only question is why? 😭

↳username1 Literally because they seemed like a perfect couple. What could go wrong?

username8 Shit, that hurts more than my parents' divorce

username9 THEY BROKE UP AFTER 8 YEARS??

↳username10 what 😳

username9 They were together since 2016, I remember Charles saying this in some interview

username6 Yup that's right, he mentioned it many times, he was so in love with Y/n. I swear even recently he said after so many years he still falls in love more and more each day

username9 She was there for him when his dad passed, when Charles joined F1, when he signed up with Ferrari, when he won his first F1 race, I wonder what happened that made them break up so suddenly

username10 Oh so she was there for basically a huge part of his life

username5 I remember when Charles said "she's not a part of my life. She IS my life" about Y/n😭my standards for men have been high up in space ever since

username11 Wow just like Sainz broke up with his long term girlfriend last season. Let's just hope Leclerc won't pop up with a new girl weeks after that

↳username12 Charles and Y/n could be broken up for a long time now, we can only speculate when they broke up

username5 Imagine if Charles posted the Vegas vlog after their breakup 🥹 I'm not okay

username12 That was so unnecessary to say, I'm crying now

yourusername One for the money, two for the show, I never was ready so I watch you go

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username1 The caption guys...

↳username2 Does that mean what I think it means?

username3 What do you think it means?

username2 "I never was ready" he wanted to take things to the next level, but she didn't. "So I watch you go" means she had to let him go because they didn't want the same thing

username3 How could she not be ready after whole 8 years?

username2 Every person matures in their own time and that's okay, they'll both find someone else

username4 That's a Swiftie going through a breakup

username5 Noooo it's confirmed now 😭 as long as neither of them confirmed it I could stay delulu and think the rumours are just rumours

oldersister Thank you for babysitting Snow White 🐈‍⬛ (I wish there was a white cat emoji)

↳yourusername It was my pleasure! She's an angel (and a professional model)

oldersister Feel free to come over anytime you want, Snow White loves her aunt 🤍

youngersister HEY how dare you steal Y/n like that!! I wanted to take her out for milkshakes sometime

oldersister Chill, you can do that whenever you want I'm not stealing anyone

yourusername I'd love to go out for milkshakes!!

lilymhe No more Y/nLily in the paddock?

↳yourusername The paddock isn't the only place where we can hang out 😂

landonorris what are you up to on the 2nd pic? 🤨📸

↳username2 LANDO, DON'T

↳username4 LANDO IT'S TOO EARLY

↳username1 DONT RUIN OUR CHANCES TO HAVE Y/NCHARLES BACK

↳username1 Fuckboy Lando been doing too much fuckboying lately

username6 Didn't know she's a smoker

↳username7 Yeah, she was very secretive about it

username2 It's not like she was hiding it from y'all

username7 She was, probably because she would be canceled for being a wag who smokes cigarettes

username2 A grown woman can do what she wants

username6 It's better that they broke up, way healthier for Charles to not be around a smoker

username2 Wtf she was with him through bad and good times, supporting him no matter what, loving him, making beautiful memories together and you say it's good that they broke up because she smokes?

username4 May I add we never saw her smoking throughout the 8 years, she probably started after the breakup

username5 after the breakup or BECAUSE of the breakup?

charles_leclerc Leaving Bahrain with a good result despite some difficulties. Pretty good weekend if you ignore the braking problem, now onto Jeddah next 🏎

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username1 brAking problem or brEAking problem?

username2 How is that the start of the season and there's already something wrong with his car?

yourusername Congratulations on finishing P4🏁given the issues your car had, you did a spectacular job

↳charles_leclerc Thank you 😇 I tried my best, but felt like something is missing

yourusername I'm sorry :(

↳username3 WHAT IS Y/N DOING HERE? ARE THEY BACK TOGETHER?

username4 I wish I could believe they are, but I guess some people break up on good terms

username3 How could anyone end a 8yrs old relationship and be friends? 😭

↳username5 Jail for miss Y/n for leading fans on

username6 He looked so sad the whole time, during interviews and all that 😔

↳username7 Yeah he's either done with the car already or he misses Y/n that much

username8 DID Y'ALL SEE THAT ONE INTERVIEW WHERE HE GOT ASKED ABOUT Y/N NOT BEING IN BAHRAIN??

↳username6 WHAT INTERVIEW??

username8 A lady asked him why Y/n isn't here because she never missed the first race of the season before so it's surprising. He officially said that over the winter break they've decided to part ways due to focusing on different aspects of life🥲

username9 How do you figure something like this out after 8 fucking years? They wasted each other's time

username7 Calm down lol they grew and matured with each other, experienced how their love evolved throughout the years, no time you put into this is a wasted time

username10 I need to know what are the aspects of life they focus on and if they really are that different

↳username11 From what I figured from Y/n's post and Charles' interview - he wanted to get married, maybe even start a family and she wasn't ready

username10 Ahhh I remember how a few years ago Charles said he wants to have three kids. Such a shame Y/n doesn't want the same thing, but it's understandable they figured it now. They were kids themselves when they started dating lol

username11 Not really, they were both over 18 years old

username10 I know, but still that's a pretty young age and you might not know yet what do you really want in life

username12 Plus your brain develops until you're 25, they both turn 27 this year so it explains a lot

username13 I'm telling you, there would be no problems if Y/n was there, @/yourusername get your lazy ass on a plane to Jeddah

oldersister Amazing performance this weekend👏

youngersister Goodluck for Jeddah 🍀

username14 The way Y/n AND her sisters still interact with Charles on social media...

↳username15 Yeah like are they actually broken up??

3 weeks later

yourusername You'd be surprised if I told you why kangaroos are called kangaroos

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username1 What is miss doing in Australia during the race week?

oldersister I told you this story is fake 🙄

↳yourusername But it's funny so I'm gonna believe it

oldersister Kangaroo DOESN'T mean "I don't know" jesus christ

username2 I thought it does 😭

username3 Too much Tiktok I guess lmao

youngersister Glad I could have milkshakes with you in Australia 😌

↳yourusername Back at you although that was a strange excuse to go to Australia in the first place

youngersister It's just not the same in Europe

arthur_leclerc Y/n in her natural habitat🦘

↳yourusername I swear I was a kangaroo in a past life

↳username4 What is going on? Y/n and Charles broke up but they keep interacting with each other and each other's families

username5 I NEED to know which city it is

username6 Is that true all announcements on public transport are made with Oscar Piastri's voice??

↳yourusername Yup, I wonder how much convincing it took to get Oscar to do the voiceover

landonorris not a lot to be honest

username5 AHA so she is in Melbourne! Also, what are you doing here Lando?

landonorris do you wanna hear another aussie fun fact?

↳yourusername I'm scared but yes (as long as it's not about thongs)

landonorris do you know what an australian kiss is?

yourusername @/oscarpiastri please put Lando back in his cage

username7 HELP I'M GASPING FOR AIR, LANDO ALWAYS TAKES THE CHANCE TO SHOOT HIS SHOT

username8 Not gonna lie it pisses me off how Lando tries to "flirt" with Y/n in her comments

↳username2 Me too, it's not ethical

username9 I'm afraid Lando doesn't care lol and I don't think Y/n would ever consider going out with another driver considering Charles and her broke up on good terms

username10 I'm just wondering if norris ever tried funny business back when Y/n would come to races

↳username11 prolly not but hey now he's free to do it

username5 Just because he's free to do it doesn't mean he should do it

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username2 OH 😃

username3 So that's what she's doing in Australia

username4 Wait why is Jacob Elordi in Australia?

↳username2 Well, Jacob is Australian, why wouldn't he be there?

username4 HE'S AUSTRALIAN?!

username5 One thing Charles can't beat is the height 😩

↳username6 Is it worth it tho? Jacob treated his exes pretty badly, he's a cheater

username5 And? People change

username6 Bro, he cheated on Zendaya

username5 Chill out, maybe Y/n isn't even on a date with him, maybe they're just hanging out

username7 If I were Y/n I would enter my hoe phase now and Jacob is a good choice to start with

username8 THIS CAN'T BE TRUE

username9 Charles where are you? 😭 Y/n is a sweetheart, she shouldn't be with Jacob

username10 Sometimes I regret opening this app

username11 Didn't Jacob attend a few races? Is that were he met Y/n?

↳username12 Keep saying things like this and watch gossip unfold about how Y/n was waiting to leave Charles for Jacob

username13 Miss girl did a downgrade

↳username14 Is it a downgrade though if he's that tall?

username13 He can be as tall as he wants, but Charles was Y/n's soulmate and I'll always stand by that

username9 Plus the height doesn't make up for the personality

username14 What personality? 💀 Girl you don't even know him

username9 Someone who cheats on their partner clearly isn't a very pleasant person to date

username5 CALM DOWN GUYS we can't be sure they were on a date, it could be just two friends catching up

username9 what friends? I've never even seen them talk before and there were opportunities

yourusername Don't panic guys, I've been spending most of the time with @/youngersister and her aussie friends

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youngersister Yeah, I clearly didn't set you up for a date with a certain actor...

↳username1 SHE SET Y/N UP WITH HIM?!

username2 Evil mastermind

username3 How did that even happen lmao

↳yourusername Thankfully it didn't go as good as you'd wish it would 😌

youngersister No worries, I have other options up my sleeve

yourusername Keep them up there 🤺

↳username4 I'm confused is [younger sisters name] team Charles or not?

username5 She's just a menace it seems

username6 What's up with Y/n? She didn't wanna be with Charles, but she doesn't wanna move on. That's not normal

youngersister Don't make me set you up with Lando

↳yourusername You'd never, I know you think he's annoying

youngersister Yeah, but he gives me that vibe of a guy who can make you forget about your ex

yourusername That's called a fuckboy

youngersister You deserve a bit of fun don't you 🥳 I'm not saying you have to go straight back to being in a relationship

yourusername NO THANK YOU

username5 Lmao I love how they're having this convo here instead of on dms

username6 OR FACE TO FACE??

username7 Why does Y/n's lil sis support the idea of Y/n having a hoe phase? 😭

landonorris I was hoping you'd come see the race;)

↳yourusername Better luck next time I guess :)

a few months later

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username1 YEAH I WAS LIKE WHAT THE HELL???

username3 I can't defend Charles anymore

username4 Apparently her name is Angeliqué and she's a daughter of some French entrepreneur (a/n: I made her up)

username5 I didn't want Charles to move on, I wanted him to be back with Y/n 😭

↳username6 Worse thing is, Charles moved on but Y/n didn't. She went on this weird staged date with Jacob Elordi a few months ago and that's it

username7 NOOO 😭😭

username8 Charles better say sike now 🔫

username9 Please tell me it's a joke

username10 It truly feels like some part of me being torn apart knowing that Y/n and Charles broke up for good and he moved on

username11 Do we really know nothing about what's going on with Y/n? She must feel terrible now, I'm sure she saw that Angeliqué girl on TV

↳username9 What makes you think she would still watch races?

username11 It seemed like her and Charles are on friendly terms, so why wouldn't she still watch his races?

↳username12 She hasn't posted anything since Australia, went hella private, she ISN'T okay, I think she even stopped hanging out with Lily M

username13 I did some more research and that Angeliqué girl is 20 years old

↳username12 So we're supposed to believe that Y/n who is Charles' age wasn't ready to start a family, but a 20 year old Charles met weeks ago is? Charles, explain yourself

username9 Honestly the new girl seems just like a distraction from Y/n or a PR relationship

username12 You might be right, maybe Charles can't forget about Y/n so he went with "wanna get over, get under someone new"

username14 Nahhhh cuz she was all over Charles whenever she could and he looked so done 💀 that's definitely a stunt

↳username1 Literally, she was always hugging him, touching, holding hands, she barely let him interact with fans, Y/n was so much better AND she always respected Charles' fans

username15 imagine not being able to move on for MONTHS so your pr team finds you a fake gf

yourusername Excuse the inactivity, I've been watching Gilmore Girls

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username1 Very understandable in this case

username2 Our Rory Gilmore finally watching the og Rory Gilmore 🙏

oldersister I'm afraid Snow White might like you more than she likes me 😂

↳yourusername I'm the cool aunt 🤭

youngersister Excuse me???

yourusername I said what I said

youngersister And I don't agree with what you said

yourusername Would you watch Gilmore Girls with Snow White? Nope. I do. So I win the cool aunt competition

username3 Guys... When did Charles unfollow Y/n?

↳username2 He unfollowed?

username3 Yeah... He didn't comment nor even like, so I went to check and he doesn't follow Y/n anymore but she still follows him

username2 Ouch that hurts

username4 I don't care that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, what counts is that she is happy 😊 look at the last pic, she's so adorable with Snow White

↳username5 True, she looks happy and healthy while Charles is out there having to put up with a fake girlfriend

username6 What's funny is that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, but both his brothers and majority of F1 drivers do

↳username7 including the ones who followed her after the breakup 😏

username8 Don't try to make up new rumours, Y/n is single and happy

username9 Not to be mean but... It says something about Charles that he had to unfollow

↳username6 He either thought it'll help him forget or the new girlfriend made him unfollow

username9 Either way it tells us he's still thinking about Y/n

landonorris been a while since I last saw you

↳yourusername Let's see how long we can keep the streak up

username6 SLAAAAAY QUEEN

username10 I'll never be over the Y/nCharles breakup, I'm still going through it months after

↳username11 That's okay because so is Charles

username12 Tbh in Y/n's place I would just take the chance and go for Lando, just to prove that Charles' PR relationship is in vain

↳username2 That's not something Y/n would do, but if she ever did that I would support her

Username13 dating men is so much stress, why bother while you can sit at home with a cat watching Gilmore Girls instead?

[covenofagatha]

A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 8)

You struggle after Rio and Agatha disappear from your motel room

Word count: 5500

Warnings: murder, sex, oral, strap-on, sex toys

A/N: thank you to everyone who read this fic and I really hope you guys are satisfied with the ending!

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen them. 

It’s been a month since they fled your motel room and left in their respective cars, going somewhere, because they either thought you were serious about catching them, weren’t entirely sure, or for some third reason unknown to you. 

You can’t believe they would just leave like that. Leave you like that. After everything, they thought you would just betray them? 

Blood had boiled through your veins that night, anger at having come so close to what you think you’ve always wanted, and you had swept through the room in a tornado, throwing flowers and shoving papers off the table and banging on the wall. Tony tried to get you to calm down but you had snarled and he had looked at you like you were a feral, rabid animal. 

Maybe you were. 

You grabbed your keys and stormed off to your car, leaving Tony to deal with the dead body. Lead foot on the gas pedal, you drove hysterically to Agatha and Rio’s house, pleading and begging and praying that they would be there. 

It didn’t even look like they had come back. You turned the place upside down, out of rage, out of fear, out of hurt.

You had sunk to your knees and hadn’t moved from your spot on the floor the entire night until you felt a hand on your shoulder after light was breaking through the windows. 

Looking up, a pinch of hope in your heart, you were incredibly dismayed to find that it was only Tony. 

“Come on, kid,” he had said. “Let’s get you home.” 

You had numbly agreed and two hours later, you were on the jet with him flying back to Miami. He had told the Westview PD that you had gotten far too entangled in the case and that for your own safety, he was pulling you off it. Plus, it seemed that the killers had left Westview. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to reveal their identities, even though you knew it wouldn’t be hard for them to piece it together with Agatha and Rio gone too. 

When you had landed back in Miami, you had attempted to resume your normal life, but the memories of their mouths against yours and the thrill you felt with them haunted you. 

The cases in Miami were boring, even when it was a female killer. It was as if all the colors in the world had faded and everything was just a dull gray now. 

Tony made you go to therapy but it didn’t help. And you kind of had trust issues with therapists now. 

You would wake up, go to work in a zombie-like state, come home, and sit in the dark until you dozed off, hoping you would wake up to find them standing there. 

They never did. 

Two weeks after coming back, the bags under your eyes were prominent and you looked racoonish, you were hardly eating because you couldn’t taste it, and you were getting maybe two hours of sleep a night. You spent the nights now pouring over the database, trying to find new cases that could be them in case they were trying to send you a message. 

Nothing. The Witch and Lady Death, Agatha and Rio, had completely vanished. 

They had brought you into their life, made you remember what you did, made you into a murderer, and then left. You were supposed to be with them right now, wherever they were. 

It was funny, you hadn’t been completely sure you wanted to go with them until you couldn’t. 

The irony left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“Agent, you need to stop all this moping and crying,” Tony had finally snapped at you one day, about three weeks after you’d been back. “They’re gone, they got away, let it go. You’re going to kill yourself if you keep this up.” 

You had clenched your jaw, your resentment at him being the reason why you were here coming back with a vengeance. It had dissipated a little, but now it was a roaring fire in your head. “I quit,” you had said, and his mouth had dropped open but you were already putting your badge and your gun on his desk. 

It has been a week since that, and you’ve spent it curled up on your couch, staring into space. 

There’s a knock on your door and you stumble toward it. The pizza guy is standing on your porch and you take the box and hand him a $20 before slamming the door in his face. 

You’re not sure when the last time you’ve actually said a word out loud was. 

Maybe since you’ve quit. 

You know you’re in a depressive episode, it happens sometimes, but this one feels worse than all the others. 

And then the sadness turns to anger and how dare they do this to you. Do they not realize that they’ve completely fucked up your life? Are you ever going to see them again? 

When you get to the bargaining point soon after, because apparently you’re going through the five stages of grief, a plan begins to form in your mind. 

Their murders brought you to Westview. Maybe you can bring them here. 

For the first time, you let yourself go into the suitcase of clothes they gave you. You reach into the small pocket of it and pull out a vial, one you took from their house on the last night when you had torn through their house. One of Agatha’s “potions.” 

And you finally feel life starting to seep back into your bones. 

Now you just had to figure out who. Could be a random person, it would definitely be easier that way. But you need to draw attention to yourself, need to make sure that they see it. 

Your doorbell rings and you shove the vial back into the bag and go see who it is. 

It’s Tony. You swing open the door and he breezes past you into your living room. 

“Come on in,” you mutter sardonically under your breath, your voice sounding hoarse. 

You can hear him scoff and then the curtains are drawn and you wince when you realize just how dark it’s been in here. The sunlight burns you and you take in the mess that your house has become. Plates with half-eaten food and cups still mostly full litter the coffee table and bookshelves, stuff you couldn’t even be bothered to clean. 

Tony points to the box of pizza. “Early lunch?” 

As if you know what time it is. “Yeah, something like that,” you shrug. Did you order that today? Or was that from yesterday? The day before? It’s all completely blurred together. 

“How are you doing?” He asks and you almost snort. 

How does it look like you’re doing? “I’m hanging in there,” you say and he forces a smile. There’s an awkwardness between you and the man who used to be a father figure and you know it’s all your fault. 

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? Pepper’s out of town and it’s just me, so let me cook something for you. I want to make sure you’re eating, I’ve been worried about you,” he admits and it tugs at your heartstrings just a little. 

You nod. “Yeah, okay, sure. What time?” 

He checks his watch and you can see 11:31 am on it. You could’ve sworn it was some time in the evening. “How about six? I can make some pasta? Chicken alfredo, your favorite, how does that sound?” 

“That would be great,” you agree, trying to ignore how much it hurts that he remembers. 

“Okay, good,” he says. 

A silence stretches between you and you rock back and forth on your feet. “Um, can I bring anything? Dessert or a side or something?”

He smiles for real this time and chokes out a laugh. “How about that crumb cake you used to bring to all the dinners? Remember when Happy ate almost the entire thing and then pretended he hadn’t?” 

“Like the crumbs weren’t all over his mouth and his suit,” you finish the story, chuckling. Back when things were simple. “I can whip one up, don’t worry.” 

“Excellent. Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight then?” He says and you purse your lips in an attempt to smile. Did you forget how?

“Yeah, thanks,” you confirm and he dips his head before making some excuse about why he has to leave. You lead him to the door and then close it after him, exhaling for a long time. 

A random person being killed might not get the attention of Agatha and Rio. But the director of an FBI branch? 

That would most likely do the trick. 

Now you just need a few more things. It can’t just be a sloppy kill, you need it to be direct, exact. You need it to be so much like their murders, need it to look like The Witch and Lady Death followed you back down to Miami, that they know with one-hundred percent certainty that it was you. 

You have the drug. You have a knife that can be used to cut through his flesh. You have some bleach, but you don’t have the hydrofluoric acid for clean-up or a purple azalea. 

It will be tough, probably impossible, to get the acid so you drop that. Even if it appears to be a copycat killer, the result will still hopefully be the same. 

Or they won’t come and you’ll get arrested.

It’s a risk you’re willing to take. 

You go to the grocery store to pick up the things you need for the crumb cake and then stop by a florist to get the flowers. It’s a smaller one, a little further out of town with no cameras, so it will be harder to track down whoever bought the flowers soon to be at a crime scene. When you order a bouquet of purple azaleas, the older lady at the register coos. 

“Aw, honey, whoever you’re getting these for must really be a special someone. These are beautiful flowers,” she tells you and you smile wistfully despite yourself. 

“Yes, they are,” you agree, talking more about the people being special than the flowers being beautiful, but both are true. The sickly sweet honeysuckle scent has become a pleasant smell to you, whereas before, it made you want to throw up. 

She hands the bouquet over to you and you pay in cash. Then you drive back to your house, put the flowers in a vase, and bake the cake. 

An hour later, when it’s ready, you take out the vial and douse the top with it. You shouldn’t feel a thrill, shouldn’t feel a burst of adrenaline run through you, but this is the most alive you’ve felt in a month. 

You put on a dress, black for the occasion, and do your hair and makeup. It feels like you’re on a death march, walking toward something inevitable that will either make or break you. If it doesn’t work, if it doesn’t bring them back to you, you’re not sure what you’re going to do. 

Spend the rest of your life on the run? Rot in prison? Or –

No. You’re not going to think about that, not even going to count that as an option. It’s going to work. It has to. 

And then it’s time to go. You wrap up the cake, put a blazer over your dress and slip the knife and a single flower into the pockets, grab cleaning supplies, and get in your car. You’ve been to Tony’s house a few times for FBI Christmas parties and the occasional dinner with Tony, his wife, and a few other colleagues, but you still remember which way to go. It’s complete muscle memory, you don’t even realize that you’re driving until you get there. 

Your heart rattles against your ribcage, but not from nerves. It’s from excitement. 

God, you’re really fucked in the head, aren’t you? You tell yourself that it’s not because you’re about to kill him, it’s because you’re going to see them soon. 

It doesn’t take long for Tony to open the door after you ring the doorbell and your breath is already coming out short and shallow so you have to slow it before he suspects something. 

“The cake,” you say, presenting it to him and he rubs his hand together before taking the pan from you. He leads you into the kitchen where you smell the pasta he’s been cooking. It makes your mouth water and for the first time in a month, you actually want to eat. 

The dinner is nice; pleasant conversation, good food and wine. He catches you up on some cases the FBI is working on, but there’s no hostility in his voice. You laugh and smile and do whatever is appropriate, just killing time until the main event. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about them, about Agatha and Rio, and your fingers twitch against your leg in anticipation. 

Tony goes and gets the cake and your breath stutters in your throat when he unwraps it. “Do you want a piece?” He asks, cutting himself a big one. 

“No, I’m pretty full,” you say and he shrugs, accepting it without a fight. You watch him with wide eyes as he takes his first bite and you swallow hard when he goes back for more. 

“Mm, this is so good,” he moans with his mouth full and you can’t help but wonder how long the drug takes to work. 

You don’t have to wonder much longer, because after the fourth bite, he coughs. You can’t breathe when he sets his fork down and reaches up to loosen his tie. There’s a change on his face and it absolutely delights you. 

He slides his chair back and you jump up. 

“Is there something in this?” He asks, but he sounds weak, tense. You walk around the table as Tony slides forward out of the chair and onto his knees. You bend down and tilt his chin up with your fingers. He’s struggling to hang on, little gasps slipping out of his mouth, but your eyes gleam as you take in the sight. 

The skin on his face tightens, shrivels, and dark lines etch into his face as his cheeks start to hollow out. You’ve got to give it to Agatha, she knows her way around chemicals. 

It’s only another minute or two and his body goes limp and slips down to the floor. The heat inside you is back, the ache floods through you, and more than anything, you wish they were there to take care of you. 

They will be soon. 

You just have to follow through on the rest of it. 

Standing up, you stretch your back just a little and then bend back over and grab onto his feet. You’re stronger than you look, but it still takes a good amount of effort to drag him into the living room. Agatha and Rio didn’t seem to stage their crime scenes per se, but no body was ever found in the kitchen, always on the floor of the living room. 

You straddle his body, unbutton his shirt, and pull the knife out from your pocket. Taking a deep breath, you hold it over where his heart is, grip the handle with both hands, and plunge. 

It goes in easy. Blood oozes out, but honestly, not as much as you thought. You remember reading that once the heart stops, the body doesn’t bleed as much, but since he just died and you’re cutting near the heart, there might be a little. 

That must be why Agatha and Rio had a relatively easy clean-up. 

You grunt with the exertion, dragging the knife in a circle. It’s harder than it seems to break through the bones of the ribcage, but you’re finally able to reach in and grab it. 

Pulling the heart out makes power rush through you and you squeeze it just to know what it feels like. It’s squishy almost, and more blood spurts out. 

And then you grimace. What are you supposed to do with it? You could leave it, but then you risk your DNA being found. You could take it with you, but you have no need for a heart. 

An idea crosses your mind and while it’s not a great one, it will definitely take care of the problem. You take it back into the kitchen, stuff it into the drain, and put a plastic container over it before turning on the garbage disposal. You have to hold the container with two hands so it doesn't fly off from the sheer force of the disposal destroying the heart. 

When you finally stop hearing resistance, you wash the container better than you’ve ever cleaned something before, making sure to get rid of any trace of chunks of heart and blood. 

And then you run out to your car to grab the bleach, gloves, and sponges from your car and get to work, scrubbing the floor until there’s nothing left. And then you put the purple flower into the gaping wound of his chest and you’re gone. 

When you get back to your house, you call the police and leave an anonymous tip about the sound of a struggle coming from Tony’s address, too impatient to wait for Pepper to come home and find him. 

And then you bide your time. 

A day passes. You turn on the news to see a special report about the director of the Miami FBI branch being murdered in his own home by seemingly the same killer as one from New Jersey. 

Two days. There’s a nationwide manhunt for the killers. You wonder if you’ve made it even more unsafe for them to come get you. 

Or maybe they’re just not coming. 

Three days. 

You’re back on the couch, in a cocoon of blankets, coming to terms that maybe you’re just never going to see them again. You wear the clothes they got you, anything to make you feel like they’re still in your life, and spray their perfume over you and over the blankets and over the pillows until your entire house smells like Thanatos. 

On the fourth day, you decide that you need to eat something or you’re going to wither away right there. You trudge your way into the kitchen slowly, a quilt wrapped around your shoulders, and you’re opening the fridge when you hear something. 

Your door is opening. 

Forcing yourself to calm down, you grab leftover chicken alfredo you took from Tony’s house and turn around. The container slips from your hand when you find Rio and Agatha standing there on the other side of your island. 

“Hi,” you breathe, feeling like you could cry tears of relief. 

Rio takes out a knife, twirls it between her fingers, and stalks over to you. You step back against the refrigerator and she presses the blade to the center of your clavicle and you should be scared. 

But then she leans in and sniffs up your neck like Agatha did in the evidence locker that day and you’re just excited. 

The older woman’s eyes watch the two of you carefully and you meet her gaze, seeing the heat in them. 

The knife digs into you, piercing your skin, and you can feel blood dripping down. Rio’s eyes dart down and her hazel eyes are dark when they flick back to yours. 

“Hey, doll,” she says, voice husky. “We saw your little stunt.” 

A smirk pulls at the corners of your lips. “Did you like it?” 

Agatha walks over, trailing her fingers on the surface of the island. She invades your space and swipes up the blood from your chest and holds her finger up to your mouth. “We sure did, superstar,” she says and you envelope her finger with your lips, sucking your blood off it. 

And then Rio sticks the knife into the waistband of her pants and draws you in for a hot kiss. She moans when she tastes the metallic flavor on your tongue and grips your waist to pull you in even closer to her. 

Agatha yanks on your hair, dragging you away from Rio’s mouth with a strand of saliva and then her lips are on your swollen ones, tugging and biting your bottom lip. 

While her tongue slides into your mouth, Rio kisses down your neck and over the slight puncture from her knife, soothing the sting. 

“I didn’t think you guys would come,” you confess against Agatha. 

Rio bites down on your collarbone and it makes you hiss. “We just wanted to make sure you actually wanted this,” she says hotly. Your chest flushes and she takes out the knife again and swiftly cuts through the silky fabric of your shirt. 

“I do,” you say, pleading for them to believe you, pouring all the emotions you’ve felt the past month at the thought of losing them into your tone. Rio kisses down your breasts, nipping at you through your bra and it makes you gasp. 

Agatha pulls away from you and steps behind Rio, moving her hair and pressing her mouth to the younger woman’s neck. “Poor Rio was so upset to think you would betray us like that,” she purrs and Rio nods, pouting mockingly. “I think you better make it up to her first, show her how much you want this.” 

The double meaning is clear and you are only too eager. You flip her around so her back is against the fridge, maybe a little more rougher than you need to be, and sink to your knees in front of her. 

You fumble with the waistband of her pants and she tips your chin up with her knife, reminding you of the night she did that with her gun. 

“Do a good job and we’ll reward you,” she says. 

Your hands finally drag her pants and underwear down and you smirk. “Ask your wife if she thinks I did a good job last time,” you retort and Agatha chuckles darkly from behind you and grips your hair before shoving your face into Rio’s dripping pussy. 

Rio gasps and Agatha holds you in place while you flatten your tongue and drag it through Rio’s folds. Her hips jerk on your face and you look up through your eyelashes to watch Agatha kiss her wife. 

Her scent invades your nose and her flavor fills your tastebuds and you moan, losing yourself in her. You lick around her clit until she’s practically shaking and she has to wrap an arm around Agatha’s shoulders to stay balanced. 

When you finally give in and suck on her clit, Rio keens and you can feel her growing even wetter on your chin. You see Agatha grip Rio’s throat and the sight makes you groan from how hot it is. You can hear Rio’s messy breathing as she starts to rut her hips against your face and you pick up the intensity, lapping harder at her cunt. 

Your jaw starts to hurt but you don’t dare stop because when you dip your tongue inside and curl it up, licking up against her walls, she clenches and the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard fall out of her mouth. 

“I’m close,” she pants and Agatha, still sliding her lips against her wife’s, reaches down to rub Rio’s clit, her finger bumping against your nose while you keep thrusting your tongue inside Rio. 

Rio’s getting tighter around you and her breaths are more constricted until she finally lets out a loud moan and her whole body jerks and her walls clamp around your tongue as she rides out her orgasm. 

Agatha steps back so you’re able to rest back on your heels and you smile up blissfully at them, the entire bottom of your face soaked. 

“Did I do a good job?” You simper and Rio’s hand grips into your hair and pulls you up. It stings but it only makes you more turned on. 

Rio cleans your face with her mouth, taking extra care to suck on your lips. She nips and you breathe out sharply. “You did acceptable,” she says haughtily and you grin. 

“Let’s go, superstar,” Agatha says, leaning in to kiss you and then Rio, wanting to taste her wife. “Where’s your bedroom?”

You point down the hall and you follow them to it. You can feel the pool between your legs and each step puts the tiniest bit of pressure on your clit, making you squirm while you walk. 

“Please,” you whisper. They seemingly ignore you and tell you to sit on your bed while they root through your room, maybe looking for a wire or a camera or something. 

But then Rio chuckles when she opens your nightstand drawer and you know what she’s found. “Look, Aggie,” she says, holding up some of your sex toys that you keep in there. It’s been far too long since you’ve used any of them and you clench involuntarily around nothing. 

Agatha walks over and pulls out a harness and a dildo and shows them to you. “Do you want me to fuck you with this, pet?” She asks and you nod eagerly, practically drooling. 

“Agatha,” Rio says in a hush, holding up another toy, a small egg vibrator and a remote. When she thumbs at the dial on the side, it turns on in her hand. “Wear this so I can control it while you’re fucking her?” 

You let out a filthy moan at the question and the older women laugh. “Seems like we got our answer,” Agatha says, making quick work of pants and underwear. You shrug off the tatters of your cut shirt and quickly take yours off too, the cold air on your sopping pussy making you shiver. 

Rio kneels down and kisses Agatha’s thighs and then mouths at Agatha’s cunt for a few seconds, before sliding the toy into her. Agatha lets out a small groan and your jaw drops open. You might cum the second you feel her skin on you. 

The electricity is back, for the first time in forever, and it races under your skin, lighting your entire body up. You’re hungry, so hungry for more, and Agatha steps into the harness and Rio helps her fasten the dildo into it. 

Agatha climbs onto the bed and you scramble back to lay against the pillows, legs propping up and spreading. 

“So eager,” Agatha tuts, positioning herself and rubbing the dildo against your entrance, coating the toy with your wetness. She drags it up and down and presses against your clit until you’re sweating under her, your hands coming up to hold onto her hips. 

She pushes the tip into you and your walls bear down around it, clenching and trying to drag it in. Agatha chuckles at your desperate state, but it quickly turns into a moan when Rio turns the dial on the control and she jerks forward violently, pushing the toy all the way inside you in one motion. 

Your head drops back and your back arches, forcing your hips up even more so you can somehow feel her deeper. “Fuck,” you curse, the fullness exactly what you need to satiate the ache inside you. 

Agatha takes a deep breath, fingers digging in tightly to the bed next to you, when Rio turns up the vibrations. 

“Pet,” Agatha says in a low voice, slowly starting to shallowly thrust inside you like it would hurt her to pull out more. You sharply inhale when she curves into the spongy spot each time and your heart is beating so fast you think it might explode. It feels so good already that tears are pricking in your eyes and Agatha leans down to capture your lips as she picks up the speed. 

The vibrations from the toy inside her are so strong that it’s affecting the dildo inside you and you’re reduced to a moaning mess. You tilt your head and through your hazy vision and the fog settling in your head, you can see Rio with a hand between her legs, watching you get fucked by her wife. 

“I wanted you guys to come back so badly,” you practically sob, hips rising to meet each one of her thrusts, each motion of the cock in and out of your body rubbing against your clit and making you gasp. 

Agatha chuckles breathlessly above you, the exertion causing a slight sheen of sweat to perspire on her forehead. Her cheeks are red and she tosses her hair over her shoulder so she can see you better. She’s biting on her red lip as she takes you in. “We know, superstar. We missed you, too. But we’re never letting you go now.” 

“Good,” you say and you pull her down for a kiss. Her thrusts are getting sloppy now, losing rhythm and her hips stuttering, but you don’t care because you’re already so close. 

And so is she, by the looks of it. Her cock fills you perfectly, and you can feel the veins on the toy dragging against your walls, and she’s panting into your open mouth, both of you exchanging hot air between the two of you. Your senses are heightened, on fire even, and you’re on the edge, tingles, fireworks, spreading through your body. You’ve never felt this alive in your life and you crave more before you’re even done right now. 

And then she puts a hand around your throat and it’s like all the air from your lungs dissipates. She squeezes lightly and you moan explicitly, feeling like a livewire is running through you. 

“Agatha,” you whine. 

She huffs and somehow speeds up, and she lets out broken whimpers when Rio turns the vibrator up even more. “Cum for me, pet, cum with me,” she says and presses on your throat to constrict your airway ever the slightest and you do. 

You slur incoherent words while you orgasm, the dam inside you breaking and pleasure floods through you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Agatha slumps on top of you, her hips convulsing inside you involuntarily as she rides out hers too. 

She lays there for a minute or two, your walls twitching around her. And then she pulls out and flops on the bed next to you. Rio comes over and gingerly takes the strap-on off Agatha and pulls the toy out of her. 

“You both okay?” Rio jokes and you both nod, thoroughly worn out. 

“What now?” You ask and the two of them look at each other. You cannot survive them walking away from you again. 

Agatha props herself up on an elbow and brushes a sweaty hair off your forehead. “What do you want, superstar?” 

“You two.” 

Rio chuckles. “Good, because if you didn’t say that, we brought gasoline and we were going to set your house on fire.” 

You gape at her and look back and forth between Agatha and Rio. “For real?” They both nod solemnly, although you can see Agatha trying not to smile. The wheels in your head turn. A fire started this whole thing, fifteen years ago. Maybe it makes sense that fire is what ends it. “Do it,” you tell them. 

“Excuse me?” Rio says, clearly taken aback. 

“Set my house on fire, make it look like I’m dead. I have the azaleas downstairs, we can scatter them outside and make it look like The Witch and Lady Death killed me. My death is faked and we go off the grid. It makes sense. You guys followed me from New Jersey, took out my boss, and now you took me out, too. The last two connections to your case.” 

It’s a good plan, even they have to admit it. 

So Agatha goes and gets the gas while you pack up a small bag of things. You leave Rio’s knife and the empty vial from the drug in the living room so it looks like The Witch and Lady Death burned in the fire too. 

You douse the kitchen and trail it to the front door so you have an easy escape. Rio hands you the matchbox, and it makes the same sound it made when you strike the match on it as the last time. You take a deep breath, look at them, and they nod. 

You flick it and a brilliant blaze of fire erupts, quickly spreading through the whole house. 

And you don’t even look back on your way to their car, the three of you sliding into it. 

Agatha pulls out of the driveway and you smile to yourself. 

You don’t know where you’re going or what will happen, but you’re with them now, so everything is going to be okay. 

[kmlottin]

Close Quarters - Kylian Mbappé fic

Chapter 8

Summary: A physiotherapist, Y/N, joins Real Madrid to get away from her past. Only to find Kylian Mbappé, her former patient and conflict, has joined a year later. As they’re forced to work together, lingering feelings and unresolved tension lead to a slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers romance filled with workplace drama and passion.

Ly all babies, this was my favourite chapter to write, let me know what you think 😇

13k words

Warning: smut

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2023 - final day

The training facility felt different today. Lighter, somehow.

The weight of the season had unraveled, leaving behind a strange mix of exhaustion and anticipation. The final game had been played, the trophies lifted, and now, those who hadn’t already flown off for their summer vacations filtered in for recovery sessions, one last day of routine before the break took them all in different directions.

Sunlight streamed through the wide windows, cutting through the cool, clinical space of the physio room. It was too warm for Paris, the kind of heat that made everything move slower, stretched conversations longer. Across the room, Marco packed away cooling packs, stacking them neatly in the freezer, while Elise checked the expiry dates on a tray of medical supplies.

It was a slow day. The kind where you should’ve felt at ease.

But you were leaving.

And that changed everything.

Elise sighed dramatically, plopping down beside you on the treatment table with an exaggerated groan. “And that’s another season in the books.”

You smiled, nodding. “Finally.”

She nudged your knee, tilting her head as she studied you. “So, how does it feel? Knowing it’s your last one with us?”

You exhaled, shifting slightly on the table. “Honestly? It feels amazing.”

It wasn’t a lie.

For months, you’d been waiting for this moment, for the weight to lift, for the next chapter to begin. Real Madrid. The dream. The goal you’d worked toward since you were a student.

But now, with Elise looking at you like that, something in your chest tightened.

She smiled, though there was something softer in her expression. “We’re really proud of you, you know. You started here as an intern, and now you’re heading to Madrid.”

You huffed a small laugh. “I know.”

“I mean it,” she pressed. “I watched you grow here. You worked your ass off for this.” She paused, twirling a roll of tape between her fingers. “You and Kylian, though… it’s crazy. Same dream, different paths. You two have been joined at the hip these past few years.”

Your stomach twisted.

Elise smiled softly. “And I’m glad you guys finally sorted out your issues and became friends. It was getting exhausting watching you at each other’s throats all the time.”

Your fingers stilled against the old tape you’d been peeling from your hand.

Friends.

You forced a chuckle. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Elise had no idea. No one did.

No one knew that the sorting out had happened in empty treatment rooms, behind locked doors, with breathless whispers and bitten-off moans. That the tension hadn’t disappeared, it had only changed shape, molded into something neither of you were bold enough to name.

Elise nudged your shoulder playfully. “Think he’ll miss you?”

Your stomach twists.

You kept your face neutral, refusing to let the question sink in. Instead, you turned to Marco, smirking. “Are you guys going to miss me?”

Elise snorted. “Nice deflection.”

Marco stretched out on the bench, arms behind his head. “I mean, Elise will cry about it. I’ll just enjoy finally being the favorite physio.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “In your dreams.”

You laughed, letting their banter carry you, pretending that Elise’s question hadn’t left a lingering tightness in your chest.

Across the room, Marco flopped onto the bench, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “So, Madrid, huh?” He smirked. “You know, if you weren’t running off, you could’ve had Elise’s job when she retires.”

Elise scoffed, tossing a roll of bandages at him. “Excuse me? I have at least another five years.”

Marco caught the bandage, grinning. “Uh-huh.”

You laughed, the sound easing the tightness in your chest. This was the part you would miss, the easy banter, the way the job never felt as overwhelming when you were with them. Your stomach twisted at the thought of who would be your friends at your new job.

Elise shot Marco a glare before turning back to you. “Speaking of, we’re all going out tonight.”

You blinked. “We are?”

“Leavers’ drinks,” she confirmed.

Marco grinned. “You didn’t think we’d let you slip away quietly, did you?”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to go, but because for the first time, the reality of it all was sinking in.

This is it.

Your last night. Your last time in the facility. Your last time being part of this team.

You swallowed, pushing past the sudden tightness in your throat. “Alright,” you said, forcing a grin. “One last night.”

Elise clapped her hands together. “That’s the spirit.”

Marco leaned back, arms crossed. “We’re getting you drunk enough to forget PSG ever existed.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “I won’t argue with that.”

Elise beamed. “Good. We’re meeting at that bar near Saint-Germain at nine.”

You nodded, letting their excitement carry you. Letting yourself believe, just for a moment, that tonight was only a celebration. That there wasn’t something - or someone - lingering in the back of your mind.

But then your gaze flickered across the training facility, skimming over familiar faces.

And when your eyes landed on him, something shifted.

Kylian.

Standing near the ice baths, his back to the wall, he should be talking to the other guys. Instead he was watching you.

And just like that, the weight in your chest pressed down harder.

Players milled about the training facility, laughing and catching up without the usual tension of upcoming matches hanging over them. It felt like the first real breath after months of holding it in.

You stood near the gym, talking with Achraf, the two of you caught in easy conversation. The familiarity of it was nice, something steady in the middle of all the change.

Then, without warning, a familiar warmth pressed against your back.

Strong arms looped around your waist, the weight of them solid, effortless. Kylian.

“Bonjour.” He whispered in your ear.

You barely had time to react before his chin dropped onto your shoulder, his voice close to your ear. “What are we talking about?”

Achraf smirked, arms crossing. “Not you.”

Kylian scoffed, his hold on you tightening playfully. “Doubt it. What could you possibly talk about if it’s not me?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped. “He was actually saying he’s glad this season is done. Says he won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Achraf nodded solemnly. “It’s true. We’re finally free.”

Kylian hummed, chin still resting against you. “Yeah? Then why does it feel like I’m the one getting abandoned?”

Your breath hitched.

Achraf grinned, shaking his head. “Man, how are you two gonna survive the summer without each other?”

Kylian didn’t hesitate. “I was gonna ask if she wants to come with us.”

Your brows furrowed as you turned slightly. “Come where?”

“Brice, Achraf, and I are planning a trip,” he said. “You should come.”

You forced a laugh, shifting slightly in his hold. “You want me to third-wheel your little bromance holiday?”

Achraf smirked. “You’d be fourth-wheeling.”

You blinked. “Brice is third-wheeling?”

Kylian grinned. “Exactly.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could answer, you felt the slight flex of Kylian’s hands against your stomach before they slid away completely. Kylian’s fingers brushed the collar of your shirt, straightening it out with an absent touch. Then, he reached up, pushing lightly at a loose curl that had escaped from your bun back into place.

The teasing gesture was soft, thoughtless, like muscle memory. Something he’s done a hundred times before.

You swallowed against the warmth curling in your stomach.

Then, his voice came, quieter now. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Achraf let out a dramatic sigh as Kylian’s hands settled firmly on your waist. “Man, you’re not even subtle about it.”

Kylian shot him a pointed look, his fingers pressing slightly against your waist. “You’re talking too much, Achraf.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Achraf muttered, shaking his head. “Go have your private conversation. But if I see you two making heart eyes at each other when you get back, I swear to God-“

Kylian didn’t let him finish. His grip on you tightened slightly, steering you away, and just before you turned the corner, you heard Achraf call after you with a grin in his voice.

“Remember who’s your favourite y/n!”

Kylian barely acknowledged him, his grip steady, possessive. “We’ll be back.”

Kylian’s pace didn’t slow, but you felt his fingers flex slightly against you, as if to remind you exactly whose attention you should be giving right now.

You bit back a smile.

“You say that like you’re giving me a choice,” you muttered, though you didn’t resist when he started guiding you away.

The second you were out of sight, he exhaled, voice lower now. “I was getting tired of sharing. Let’s go in that corner, chérie,” he murmured, his voice low, just for you.

Before you could protest, he steered you forward, his chest brushing against your shoulders as he guided you toward the quieter part of the room. His grip was light but commanding, like it was second nature, like he knew exactly how to move you.

Your pulse kicked up, but you kept your expression neutral, refusing to acknowledge the way your stomach twisted at the easy intimacy of it.

When he finally slowed to a stop, his hands lingered for a beat longer before sliding away, leaving behind a warmth you hated to miss.

Kylian turned you to face him, something unreadable flickering in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he said, stopping just a breath away.

You kept your posture relaxed, forcing an easy expression. “Mbappé.”

He grinned, eyes filled with amusement. “So formal. What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

You opened your mouth, but before you could answer, Elise’s voice rang out from behind you.

“She’s coming out with us,” she said, grinning. “Leavers’ drinks.”

Kylian’s gaze didn’t shift. His expression didn’t change. But you caught it, the slight tensing of his jaw, the way his fingers flexed against his sides.

“Right, so you’re busy.” he said simply.

You thought that was it. That he would let it go.

But then-

“And tomorrow?”

Your stomach flipped.

Tomorrow.

Your throat went dry as you scrambled for an answer. You had planned to finish packing, to prepare for the flight he still didn’t know you were taking.

“Busy again,” you said, too quickly.

Kylian tilted his head slightly. “With what?”

Your pulse kicked up. You hated how well he knew you, how easily he could tell when you were avoiding something.

“I just- ” You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I have things to do.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Just looked at you, gaze unwavering, assessing. Then-

“Come over to my place.”

The words weren’t a suggestion.

You blinked, momentarily thrown. “What?”

“Come over,” he repeated, quieter this time. “For dinner.”

Your chest tightened.

Not a hotel. Not in an empty room. Not meeting in the shadows of your usual routine.

His home.

Your stomach twisted. “Why?”

Kylian’s eyes softened, his usual teasing nowhere to be found. “Because I want to see you. I want to spend time with you.”

Something lodged itself in your throat. You searched his expression, waiting for the smirk, the playful glint in his eyes. But it never came.

“Kylian,” you started, voice quieter now. “We don’t-”

“We don’t what?” he interrupted gently. “Eat together? Spend time together?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his words press against you.

“We don’t do personal,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Kylian exhaled, his gaze never leaving yours. “Maybe we should. First time for everything, right?”

Your breath hitched.

It wasn’t just the words. It was him. The way he was looking at you - earnest, open, leaving nothing between you but the truth.

You swallowed. “Since when do you care about that?”

Kylian’s lips parted like he wanted to say something, but then he just shook his head, almost like he was exasperated. “Since always,” he admitted, voice steady, like he wasn’t afraid of what it meant to say it aloud.

Your fingers curled into your palms. You should say no. You should remind him that this wasn’t how things worked, that you weren’t meant to cross this line. You should say no, that you were leaving for Madrid, a conversation you didn’t know how to have.

But instead, you found yourself nodding. “Okay.”

He let out an exhale, something eased in his shoulders. He nodded, stepping back. “Okay, tomorrow at eight.”

You didn’t answer, only watching as he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding and your mind screaming at you to tell him the truth, tell him you’re leaving, before it was too late.

The suitcase lay open on your bed, half-filled with the last remnants of your life in Paris.

Clothes neatly folded, toiletries packed away, your favorite mug wrapped in a hoodie to keep it from breaking. Everything was nearly done.

And yet, your hands trembled.

You stared at the open suitcase, the weight of what you were about to do pressing against your ribs. You should tell him. He deserved to know. After everything, after years of pushing and pulling, of straddling the line between something and nothing, you liked him enough to tell him.

Your throat tightened.

But how?

How were you supposed to look Kylian in the eyes and tell him you were leaving without making it worse? Without breaking whatever this was between you?

Your heart thumped painfully in your chest, panic creeping in-

Then your gaze flickered to your phone.

Dinner.

You exhaled sharply. You had completely forgotten about it. And you had no idea what to wear.

Without thinking, you unlocked your phone and typed out a message.

You: Just wondering… what are we doing tonight? What do I wear?

The response came almost instantly.

Kylian: Nothing.

You rolled your eyes, your lips betraying you with a small smile.

You: Be serious.

Kylian: I am. I think you’d look best in nothing, chérie.

Your stomach twisted.

You: You’re not funny.

Kylian: You’re smiling though.

You bit your lip, refusing to acknowledge how right he was.

You: So?

Kylian: I like making you smile.

There was a pause before your phone buzzed again.

Kylian: Wear something comfortable. You don’t have to try with me.

Your fingers hesitated over the screen.

Wear something comfortable.

It was such a simple thing, but it made your heart ache. Because it was him. Because Kylian never needed anything extravagant from you, never asked for more than what you could give. The past few years, he accepted you in all your entirety. You had seen each other at your worst, completely raw and unfiltered. Because those words alone reminded you of all the things you felt but were throwing away.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to type out a response.

You: Okay.

You tossed your phone onto the bed, exhaling sharply.

You were spiralling. The invitation sat in your head like an unanswered question.

Kylian had asked so casually, like it was nothing, like it was just dinner. But you know better. You’ve spent months pretending this arrangement is simple, drawing invisible lines and swearing you’d never cross them. And now, just a night before you’re set to leave, he’s breaking the only rule that kept you safe.

You should have said no. You should have laughed it off, made an excuse, anything. But you didn’t. Instead, you agreed too quickly, a quiet okay slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Now, standing in front of your closet, you feel like you’re unraveling.

Comfortable.

It should’ve been easy. A simple outfit, nothing to overthink. But when you stepped in front of your open wardrobe, your mind went blank.

You wanted to look good. Really good.

Not for any particular reason, of course. It wasn’t like tonight meant anything. It wasn’t like Kylian asking you to come over changed anything. You were still leaving, still boarding that flight, still walking away from him.

Still-

Your fingers skimmed over your clothes, pulling out a top before shaking your head and putting it back. Jeans? Too uncomfortable. A dress? Too much. You wanted to look effortless. As if you hadn’t thought about it at all. As if you weren’t standing in front of your wardrobe stressing about what to wear for a man who shouldn’t even matter this much.

Your heart pounded. You were doing it again, spiraling.

You needed to breathe.

Tearing your gaze from your reflection in the mirror, you turned toward your suitcase, shuffling through the neatly packed clothes. Maybe something in there-

Your hand froze.

A hoodie.

Not just any hoodie. His hoodie.

The same one he had thrown over your shoulders on a cold night months ago, when you had stubbornly refused to admit you were freezing. Just wear it, chérie, he had said, rolling his eyes before draping it over you. Stop being difficult.

Your chest tightened as you picked it up, bringing it close.

It still smelled like him. That familiar mix of cologne, something warm and clean and pure him.

You should’ve returned it ages ago. And yet, here it was, buried in your things, the last piece of him you had taken without meaning to.

Your fingers curled around the fabric as something heavy settled in your stomach.

You could give it back tonight. Leave it behind along with everything else. Make a clean break, like you always meant to.

You swallowed hard, pressing the hoodie to your chest.

You decide to put on a plain black top and put it on, something you’ve worn a hundred times, but now it feels too intentional, too much like you don’t want to try too hard. You grab his hoodie instead again, then shake your head and toss it aside. It was too obvious. It’s just dinner, but, but it’s not just dinner.

This is different. You know it.

You sink onto the edge of your bed, gripping the fabric between your hands. Should you just cancel?

The thought makes your stomach twist. You could text him, say something came up, pretend you forgot-

But then what?

Would he be mad? No, probably not. He’d brush it off, act like it didn’t matter. Like you don’t matter.

And that’s worse. That’s so much worse.

Your phone feels heavy in your hands as you stare at his last message. His the car is waiting text waiting at the bottom of the screen. You imagine yourself typing something - Actually, I can’t tonight - but your fingers don’t move.

Because you want to go.

That’s the real problem.

You want to go, and you hate yourself for it. He didn’t deserve that.

Because if you walk into his apartment tonight, you’ll make another memory with him, one that will be impossible to forget. And you can’t afford that to lose that. You were being utterly selfish and he had no idea.

But still, you stand up. Grab your phone send on my way. Grab your bag. Grab the hoodie. Force yourself out the door before you can change your mind.

Because you were already too far gone.

The city rushes past in streaks of gold and navy, the warm glow of streetlights blurring through the car window. You sit stiffly in the backseat of the car, hands clasped in your lap, the air too thick, too still. Every few seconds, you glance at your reflection in the glass, at the quiet tension in your face, the way your shoulders won’t relax.

You need to tell him.

That’s what you decide somewhere between your apartment and the first turn onto the main road. You’re going to tell Kylian that you’re leaving. It’s the right thing to do. You’ll sit down, let him talk, maybe let yourself enjoy dinner for a while, and then you’ll say it. I’m leaving. I got a job in Madrid. Just like that. Simple.

Except, it’s not simple at all.

Your stomach twists as you picture the conversation.

What if he asks about your summer?

You could lie, keep things vague, say you’re just going home for a bit, that you haven’t figured out your plans yet. But Kylian knows you too well. He’d press, the way he always does, teasing at first but serious underneath. And then what?

What if he asks about next season?

You swallow hard.

That’s worse. That’s direct. You wouldn’t be able to avoid it, wouldn’t be able to shrug it off like it doesn’t matter. Because it does matter - to him and to you.

Your fingers tighten around the fabric of the hoodie.

What if he says something that makes you want to stay?

The thought slams into you, sharp and breath-stealing.

You don’t let yourself consider it often, but now, in the quiet hum of the car, it creeps in. Because if Kylian knew, if he realised you were planning to leave, if he looked at you with that unbearable sincerity in his eyes and asked you not to go-

Would you stay?

The question makes your stomach drop.

Because you think you might. You think you’d let him convince you, let yourself believe that staying would be the right thing to do. You think you’d want him to convince you. You think about his voice, low and certain, telling you he wants more. About his hands on your waist, grounding you. About all the unspoken things between you, waiting to tip over the edge.

The car slows at a red light, and you stare straight ahead, breathing through the pressure in your chest.

You can’t let that happen.

That’s the real reason you never told him. Because Kylian Mbappé has always been your greatest weakness, and if he asks you to stay, you’re not sure you’ll be strong enough to say no.

The car pulls up to Kylian’s building, its sleek façade rising high against the deep blue of the evening sky. You exhale slowly, pressing a hand against your stomach as if that will ease the nervous energy swirling inside you. The decision settles in your chest, heavy but resolute - you’re not going to tell him tonight.

Not because it isn’t important. Not because it won’t change everything.

But because this, this evening, this invitation, is everything.

Kylian has never asked you to his home before. You never asked him to yours either. Never crossed that boundary. You don’t do personal things. No one-to-one dinners, no lazy mornings brushing your teeth together, no soft moments outside of dimly lit rooms where clothes are hurriedly shed and hands search for something unspoken.

But tonight is different.

Your steps are quiet against the smooth marble as you step inside the lobby. It’s sleek and understated, all clean lines and muted lighting. A concierge nods politely as you pass, as though he was expecting you, his suit crisp, his demeanor professional. The air smells expensive, tinged with faint traces of polished wood and fresh linen.

You swallow. This isn’t just a building. It’s his building. His world. And he’s letting you in.

As you step into the elevator, you press the button with a steadying breath. The doors glide shut, enclosing you in silence. You force yourself to stand tall, to unclench your hands. Forget about Madrid. Just for tonight.

Because tonight isn’t about goodbyes.

It’s about this moment, about the rules you thought you’d never break and the lines Kylian is asking you to cross.

You glance at your reflection in the mirrored walls, lips slightly parted, eyes sharper than they should be for something that’s meant to be casual. The numbers on the display climb higher, bringing you closer to the unknown.

And then the doors open.

His hallway is dim, warm lighting casting soft shadows along the walls. You walk forward, each step measured, each second stretching as your pulse quickens.

Then you knock.

And suddenly, your mind is racing again.

What if this changes everything?

What if you don’t want it to change?

What if-

The door swings open.

And then - nothing.

Because Kylian is standing there, filling the doorway, eyes dark and steady as they take you in. He looks good. Unfairly good. Casual, but intentional.

And just like that, your thoughts quiet.

He looks at you like he’s been expecting this moment for longer than you have.

“You’re late,” he teases.

You scoff lightly, stepping inside when he moves back to let you in. “I’m late because it takes half n hour to get to this floor.”

He laughs at that, closing the door behind you. You let your eyes take in the space around you.

Kylian’s apartment is nothing like you imagined. You expected something cold, modern - bare walls and lifeless furniture, the kind of home that belonged to someone always on the move, never settling long enough to make a place feel like theirs.

But it’s warm. Lived in. Not cluttered, but personal.

Soft lighting casts golden shadows against deep, earth-toned walls. The sleek design of the furniture is softened by subtle signs of comfort, a book left open on the coffee table, a blanket draped carelessly over the arm of the sofa, a half-empty bottle of water on the counter. There’s a faint trace of cologne in the air, something rich and familiar, woven into the very fabric of the space.

And then there’s the view. Floor-to-ceiling windows open up to the city below, Paris stretching out in glittering lights. You don’t realise you’re staring until Kylian moves behind you.

“Nice, isn’t it?” His voice is lower now, more serious. “I like looking out after a game. Helps me think.”

You nod, unable to stop yourself from imagining him standing here alone, staring out over the city, lost in his own world.

Kylian’s presence is warm behind you, his voice quieter now, like he’s letting you in on something personal.

“It’s… not what I expected.”

He hums, placing his hands on your waist, his breath just grazing the shell of your ear. “And what did you expect?”

You shrug, trying to play it off, but you can feel him watching you. “Something less… you.”

That makes him chuckle. “You thought I lived in a hotel room, didn’t you?”

You turn, meeting his eyes. “A little.”

Kylian laughs softly but doesn’t argue. Instead, his gaze flickers down, catching on the folded hoodie in your arms. His smile fades, something softer settling in its place.

You shift, suddenly unsure. “I, um- I brought this to give back.” You hold it out between you, an awkward offering. “I forgot to give it back.”

For a second, Kylian doesn’t move. He just looks at you, then at the hoodie, then back up again, something unreadable in his expression.

And then, instead of taking it, he shakes his head. “I gave it to you to keep.”

Your stomach twists. “Oh.”

There’s something charged in the space between you, something neither of you is willing to name.

“Why?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Kylian watches you, something knowing in his gaze. Then, slowly, he steps forward, closing the distance. “Don’t you think about me when you put it on?”

Your lips part, but no words come out.

Because you do.

You have. More times than you care to admit.

The fabric smells like him, even now. It always has. Even after so many washes, even after months of telling yourself it was just a hoodie. Just something comfortable to sleep in.

Kylian must see the answer on your face because his smile returns, but it’s softer this time, tinged with something fonder. He takes the hoodie from your hands, and for a second, you think he’s finally going to accept it back.

But instead, he unfolds it and steps closer.

“Arms up,” he murmurs.

You blink. “What?”

He tilts his head, expression expectant. “Arms up.”

Hesitantly, you lift your arms, and Kylian slides the hoodie over your head, his movements slow, deliberate. The fabric pools around your shoulders, warm and familiar. His fingers graze your skin as he adjusts the hem, smoothing it down over your sides. He then grabs your hair pulling it out of the hoodie. Warmth filling in your chest.

When you finally meet his gaze, there’s something undeniably tender in the way he looks at you.

“You took your time getting here,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Thought you were gonna stand me up.”

You scoff lightly, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “I had to mentally prepare for whatever this is.”

He laughs at that, reaching up to pull the hood over your head, his fingers brushing your jaw. “And what is this?”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Because you don’t know how to tell him that this is something you can’t afford to want.

“Come on,” Kylian says, nudging your arm lightly. “I cooked.”

“You cooked?” You raise a brow, following him toward the kitchen.

“Don’t look so surprised.” He grins, already pulling plates from the cabinet. “I had to impress you somehow.”

Your stomach twists. Impress you. He’s putting in effort. He’s treating tonight like it means something.

And that makes your chest ache.

Because it does mean something. Just not in the way he thinks.

You glance down at the plate he sets in front of you - a homemade pizza, golden crust, bubbling cheese, and the exact toppings you always order.

“You made pizza?” you say, surprised.

“You mentioned once it’s your favorite,” he shrugs, like it’s nothing. Like it wasn’t something he filed away in his mind for this moment.

“You could’ve just ordered it,” you tease, picking up a slice.

Kylian smirks, leaning in just slightly, voice dropping into something smoother. “You also mentioned you like a man who puts effort in.”

Your breath catches for a second. The memory is hazy, some passing comment from months ago, made in the middle of an argument, maybe. You never thought he was listening.

Kylian watches your reaction closely, waiting for you to admit he got to you. You force yourself to shake your head, rolling your eyes. “You really think this is all it takes to impress me?”

He leans in further, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “No, you’re difficult” he murmurs. “But it’s a good start.”

Your face burns as he pulls back, looking far too pleased with himself. You take a bite of the pizza to distract yourself, but his eyes don’t leave you, watching, waiting.

“It’s good,” you admit reluctantly.

“You love it,” he corrects smugly, reaching for his own slice. “You’re trying not to give me the satisfaction, but I can see it in your face.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“You adore me,” he counters easily.

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch against your will. He’s impossible. And the worst part? He knows you adore him, even if you refuse to say it.

The night flows easily, laughter spilling between you like it always has. Kylian is close, always touching, his foot nudging yours under the table, his fingers brushing against your wrist when he reaches for something, the occasional press of his lips to your temple when you pretend not to notice.

You let it happen. You let yourself have this.

“So,” he says, after a comfortable lull in conversation. “What are you doing for the break?”

Your body tenses before you can stop it.

Madrid. You’ll be in Madrid. Staying in Madrid.

But you can’t tell him that.

You force yourself to shrug, keeping your tone casual. “No plans yet.”

Kylian hums, studying you like he can sense something off, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Come with me, then.”

Your heart stutters. “What?”

“Spend the summer with me,” he says simply, like it’s not a big deal. Like he’s not asking for everything. “We can go somewhere. Just us.”

You swallow, keeping your expression even. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” he grins. “Where do you wanna go?”

Your brain scrambles for an answer. The idea of it, spending weeks wrapped up in him, away from everything else, is dizzying. Tempting. Dangerous.

You should say no. You have to say no. Tell him the truth.

But instead, you tease, “Somewhere warm.”

Kylian perks up immediately, his enthusiasm clear. “Greece?”

“Too crowded,” you counter, playing along like this conversation isn’t fake.

“Maldives.”

“Too boring.”

“South of France?”

You pause, considering. “Could be nice.”

His smile softens. “It would be nice.”

The weight of what you’re doing presses down on you, but Kylian doesn’t know that. To him, this is real. To him, you’re making plans.

And you want to believe in them. You want to close your eyes and picture yourself on a beach with him, stretched out under the sun, tangled in each other.

But it’s not real. It never will be.

You let the moment sit between you, let Kylian believe in the fantasy just a little longer.

“You know,” Kylian says, leaning back in his chair, “I actually have a place in the south of France.”

You blink. “You do?”

He grins. “Mmhmm. Private, quiet, right by the beach.”

You can already picture it, the sea breeze, golden sun, the sound of waves crashing against the shore. Him by your side. It’s dangerous how easily you can imagine yourself there with him.

“Bad wifi, though,” he adds, shaking his head like it’s a tragic loss.

You scrunch your nose. “No wifi? What would we even do?”

Kylian’s grin is slow, teasing, as he moves his chair closer to you.

By the time you realize what he’s doing, he’s already at your side, fingers trailing along your arm before tilting your chin up. His lips brush the corner of your jaw, moving to the sensitive skin just beneath your ear.

“I’m sure we can think of a few ideas,” he murmurs, voice smooth, warm, and intentional.

Your breath catches, but you play it off with a scoff, pushing lightly at his chest. “You’re insufferable.”

His lips curve against your skin, whispering “You love me.”

Your heart pounds against your ribs. You let his words settle into your skin. You roll your eyes, but you don’t move away. And he doesn’t stop kissing you, his lips brushing along your jaw, down to your neck, slow and lingering, like he’s savoring the moment.

Like he wants you to remember this.

Later, after the food is gone and the wine bottle is nearly empty, the conversation shifts into something softer.

“I might visit England,” you say, twirling the stem of your glass between your fingers. “Go home for a little bit.”

Kylian hums, watching you intently. “You don’t talk about home much.”

You shrug. “It’s complicated.”

He tilts his head, waiting, letting you decide how much to share.

You exhale, fingers tracing the rim of your glass. “You know my parents are immigrants. I was born in England, but I grew up… in between. Always feeling a little too much of one thing, not enough of the other.”

Kylian leans forward, brows furrowing slightly. “Yeah. I get that.”

You glance up, meeting his gaze. His expression is open, understanding. Of course he gets it, he’s lived it too.

“I just… I don’t go back as often as I should,” you admit, voice quieter now. “Life gets busy, and sometimes it’s easier not to.”

“I left for Paris as soon as I could,” you admit, voice quieter now. “University felt like an excuse, but really… I just wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere new.”

His eyes soften. “You wanted to run.”

You huff a quiet laugh, taking a sip of wine. “Yeah.”

He studies you, his gaze lingering. “And now?”

You don’t answer right away. You could tell him the truth, that leaving has always felt easier than staying, that it’s a habit you’ve never quite broken. That even now, sitting here with him, there’s a part of you already bracing for the moment you’ll have to go.

Instead, you offer a small smile. “Now, I just want to enjoy tonight.”

Kylian studies you for a moment, then asks, “Do they know about me?”

You hesitate. “Of course.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. “Could I meet them?”

Your stomach clenches. The question is casual, but the weight of it is not.

Meeting your parents. That’s not something you do with someone temporary. That’s something real.

And yet…

You nod. “Yeah. I think they’d like you.”

Kylian’s smile grows, bright and boyish, like this means everything to him. Like it’s real.

And for tonight, you let him believe it is. But deep down, a voice whispers that you’re lying to both of you. You always leave before things get too real. You always run.

And this time… you already know you won’t stay.

Then, suddenly, he’s moving, standing up next to you. Your breath stills as he’s tugging your chair back just enough to turn you toward him. He leans down, and you don’t stop him.

His lips brush against yours, soft and unhurried. A question, not a demand.

You let yourself sink into it. His hands find your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, holding you there like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

By the time you and Kylian move to the sofa, the mood has settled into something easy, familiar, like this is something you’ve always done. Like it’s something you’ll keep doing.

He throws an arm over the back of the sofa, fingers idly playing with the corkscrew of your hair as he scrolls through movies. “You’re impossible to please,” he mutters when you turn down yet another option.

You smirk, shifting to press your back against his side. “You know I have standards.”

Kylian huffs a laugh, eyes still on the screen. “You sure you don’t just like being difficult?”

You grin, stealing the remote from his hands. “Only for you.”

His fingers tighten around your hip in retaliation, a firm squeeze that makes warmth bloom in your stomach.

Eventually, you settle on something simple, a comfort movie, the kind that plays softly in the background of a quiet night. Kylian wraps his arm around you, letting you lean into him, his body warm and solid beside you.

It hits you then, hard, this moment. The normalcy of it.

Coming home after a long day. Cooking together. Teasing each other. Curling up on the sofa with a movie, legs tangled, fingers lazily trailing along each other’s skin.

It’s the kind of thing couples do. The kind of thing you could have had.

And for a second, you let yourself want it.

Kylian’s voice breaks through your thoughts. “So, England?”

You blink, looking up at him. “What?”

“You said you might visit,” he prompts, his thumb brushing along your shoulder. “Your parents still there?”

You nod. “Yeah. They know about us, by the way.”

His brows lift in mild surprise. “Oh?”

You smile a little. “Not like this. Just… that I work with you. They’ve heard my complaints.”

He lets out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Bet they loved those.”

You hesitate, then admit, “They actually love you.”

Kylian shifts slightly, giving you his full attention. “Yeah?”

You nod, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his thigh. “You’re disciplined, smart, charming.” Your lips twitch. “They tell me I should marry you.”

Kylian’s grip on your waist tightens just a little. “Smart parents.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest doesn’t fade.

Kylian hums, his fingers trailing up your arm. “My parents are dying to meet you, you know.”

Your stomach flips. “Really?”

He nods. “I talk about you a lot.” His voice is softer now, more careful. “Maman especially. She keeps saying she wants to meet the one person who can handle me.”

Your heart stumbles over itself. You know what he’s doing, he’s letting you see the future he wants. One where you’re in it.

And maybe it’s the wine, or the warmth of his body, or the way his fingers trail soothingly along your skin, but you let yourself see it too.

For tonight, you let yourself believe.

Kylian shifts slightly, pulling you in closer. His fingers trail idly up and down your arm, slow and soothing, grounding you in the warmth of his touch. The movie is still playing in the background, but neither of you are paying attention anymore.

“They’d love to see me get married,” you say suddenly, your voice softer now. “Husband, kids, the whole thing.”

Kylian hums, resting his chin lightly atop your head. “That a bad thing?”

You exhale a quiet laugh. “No. Just… they have it all planned out in their heads. Big family, grandkids running around. There’s pressure.”

His fingers pause for just a second before he resumes the slow, steady movement against your skin. “And what do you want?”

You tilt your head back slightly to look at him, a teasing smile forming on your lips. “Well, I’m for one, are grateful for your money, because we’re going to have a really nice retirement home.”

Kylian scoffs, nudging your side. “We?”

You grin. “Obviously. Someone has to make sure you don’t get too grumpy when you’re old.”

He shakes his head, laughing, but there’s something softer in his gaze when he looks at you. “I’m never grumpy. You really think I’d be grumpy?”

“Oh, definitely,” you tease. “Complaining about the neighbors being too loud. Yelling at kids to stay off your lawn. You’re using up your fun side now, later on there’s going to be nothing left”

Kylian laughs, he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your jaw. “And you?”

You shiver slightly under his touch but keep your tone light. “I’ll be charming, obviously. The favorite grandma. The one who sneaks the grandkids extra sweets when their parents aren’t looking.”

Kylian laughs against your skin. “You’re so wrong.”

You let the words settle for a moment before shifting, turning slightly so you can look at him fully. “What about you? Ever think about kids?”

His smile softens. “Yeah. Always figured I’d have a family one day.”

You hum. “What do you think they’d be like?”

Kylian tilts his head, considering. “If they take after me? Active. Stubborn. Probably too competitive for their own good.”

You laugh. “Great. A little army of Kylian juniors running around. Sounds like a nightmare.”

He smirks. “You could handle them. And if they take after you?”

You purse your lips in thought. “Smart. Focused. Knows how to handle pressure.”

Kylian snorts, “why is your ego as big as mine?”

“Good at arguing,” You continue, grinning. “Definitely a little dramatic.”

“Oh, for sure,” Kylian says, grinning. “Our kids are going to be so dramatic.”

Our kids.

The words make your stomach twist, but you force yourself to keep playing along.

Kylian’s voice softens. “You’d be a great mom.”

Your breath catches slightly, but you keep your expression neutral. “And you’d be a great dad.”

He smiles, his fingers wrapping around yours. “We’d be good together.”

You can’t answer that. So instead, you lean up and kiss him, slow and soft, letting him believe, just for tonight.

Kylian shifts above you, his weight settling over yours in a way that feels natural, like he belongs there. His head rests against your chest, and you force yourself to keep your breathing steady, even as his hands trace slow, absentminded circles over the curve of your ass. It’s casual, intimate in a way that makes your stomach twist.

He’s comfortable like this, pressed into you, his fingers moving lazily against your skin. Every so often, he shifts just enough to kiss you, soft, lingering presses of his lips that make your chest tighten. You kiss him back without thinking, letting yourself fall into the illusion of this moment, of him.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmurs, lips brushing over your collarbone. His voice is teasing, but there’s something else beneath it, something softer, more certain.

You scoff lightly, fingers gently scratching his neck. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He just grins against your skin, his fingers flexing against your ass before smoothing over the fabric of your leggings. “You haven’t let go of me all night,” he points out, his voice low, amused.

Your stomach flips. You couldn’t let go. Not when it's your last night.

“This is nice,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your collarbone. “You and me like this.”

You hum, fingers moving to gently scratch his scalp. The movement relaxing you. He lets out a quiet sigh, his entire body relaxing into yours. You want to tell him not to get used to this, to remind him that tonight is just a moment, not a promise. You had to tell him before the night carries on.

You had to try. You try to coax him in. “You used to talk about Madrid all the time.”

Kylian shifts slightly, lifting his head just enough to look at you. His hands squeeze your ass gently. “And you used to talk about your masters.”

You still.

He notices.

Kylian watches you closely now, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate lines along your waist. “You thinking about it?” His lips ghost over your skin again, each word a little softer, a little closer. “Taking the next step?”

It’s a casual question. Harmless. But it feels like a landmine waiting to go off.

You swallow. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Kylian hums against your skin, his nose nudging the curve of your neck as his hands tighten on your hips. “And Madrid?”

Your fingers hesitate in his hair.

“You still thinking about it?” he murmurs, pressing another soft kiss to your jaw.

Your chest tightens. He doesn’t realize what he’s asking. He thinks you’re reflecting on old dreams, on the things you used to talk about together. But you know better.

Because you are thinking about masters in Madrid. Your plane was leaving tomorrow.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. “I don’t know.”

Kylian lifts his head fully now, propping himself up on his elbows, his face just inches from yours. His gaze is steady, open in a way that makes you want to turn away. His hands slide up beneath your hoodie - his hoodie - his palms warm against your bare skin.

“I’ve been thinking about staying,” he admits.

Your stomach drops.

“For the club?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

He shakes his head. “No. Not for the club.” His fingers tighten on your waist, like he’s trying to ground himself. Like he’s afraid to say it outright.

“I’m not ready to leave yet.”

You feel like you can’t breathe.

He’s watching you too closely now, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against your ribs. You know he can feel your heart racing. You know he notices the way your breath stutters.

“Paris is home,” he continues, voice quieter now. His forehead presses against yours, both lips just shy of touching. “It’s not just about football anymore. There’s something here worth staying for.”

And then, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world, he says it.

“I want to be with you, y/n.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest.

You were prepared for a lot of things tonight, but not this.

Not him looking at you like this. Not him holding you like he’s afraid to let go. Not him saying the one thing you’ve wanted to hear for so long, at the worst possible time.

You feel like you’re about to break. You need to tell him the truth.

But instead of responding, you crush your lips against his, desperate, aching, reckless. Anything to stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret.

Kylian takes this as an answer. He exhales against your lips, something soft, relief. You didn’t even notice the tension in his shoulders before he relaxed. He smiles, kissing you deeper, whispering, “Thought you’d never admit it.”

The weight of it all nearly crushes you, but you let yourself melt into the kiss, pretending - just for tonight - that it’s real.

The air gets heavier, so you try to lighten it, desperate to change the topic. You shift slightly beneath him, sighing dramatically. “You’re clingy, you know that?”

Kylian hums against your skin, clearly unbothered. “Mm, and?”

“And,” you tease, poking at his side, “we’re not even watching the movie.

He chuckles, lifting his head just enough to meet your eyes. “Right, because I’m the one who keeps kissing you.”

You roll your eyes, about to fire back, but he cuts you off with another kiss, lazy, drawn out, his lips brushing yours in a way that makes you forget whatever point you were going to make.

Eventually, you both settle in, but Kylian stays close, his body half-draped over yours, his fingers slipping beneath the hoodie just to feel your skin. His touch is absentminded, lazy strokes against your ribs, his thumb brushing over the dip of your waist like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

The movie plays, but neither of you are really paying attention.

After a long pause, Kylian speaks again, voice quieter now. “My dad still asks about you.”

You hesitate, not expecting that. “He does?”

Kylian nods. “Yeah. He likes you.” His fingers press a little deeper into your skin. “Thinks you’re pretty.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Good to know I have his approval.”

Kylian smirks, tilting his head slightly so his lips brush the edge of your jaw. “He also thinks you’re funny.”

Your brows lift. “Really?”

He grins, amused at your surprise. “Yeah. You talked to him after I missed that game with my calf, remember?”

You do. His dad had been worried, and you’d reassured him that Kylian would be fine, joking that he was too stubborn to be out for long.

Kylian hums. “Apparently, he still brings it up. ‘That physio of yours has a smart mouth.’” His smirk widens. “He meant it as a compliment.”

You shake your head, but you’re smiling. “I’ll take it.”

Kylian presses a slow, lingering kiss beneath your ear. “I think he just likes that you care about me.”

The weight of his words settles between you, heavy and unspoken.

You exhale, forcing yourself to keep your voice light. “Well, someone has to.”

Kylian chuckles, but his hold on you tightens, like he doesn’t want you to slip away.

Kylian stays close, his fingers idly tracing patterns beneath your hoodie - his hoodie, you correct yourself. The movie plays in the background, but neither of you are paying attention. His warmth seeps into your skin, his presence wrapping around you like a comfort you know you shouldn’t get used to.

“If we’re going to England and the South of France for summer,” he murmurs, voice soft, like the future is already set, “where shall we go for Christmas?”

You hesitate for only a second before letting yourself dream. “I’ve always wanted to go to the Alps. I really want to go skiing.”

Kylian huffs a quiet laugh, shifting slightly. “You do realize I can’t ski, right?”

“You can ski,” you tease. “You’re just not allowed to. PSG rules. And I’m not taking care of you if you injure yourself.”

He grins, squeezing your waist. “Then we shouldn’t go.”

“What?” You pull back slightly to look at him.

“I want to go somewhere hot,” he says, casual and lazy, like it’s already decided. “Somewhere with a beach.”

You scoff. “That’s a summer holiday.”

“So?”

“So, Christmas in the snow is a must.”

Kylian’s fingers skim along your stomach, his grip lazy but warm. “So, convince me,” he says, amusement laced in his voice. “What’s so special about Christmas in the snow?”

You roll your eyes. “You seriously don’t get it?”

He shakes his head, watching you expectantly.

You exhale, settling deeper against him. “It’s… magical,” you start, eyes flickering toward the ceiling as you picture it. “Twinkling lights glowing against the snow, cozy cabins with fireplaces, the quiet beauty of the mountains at night.”

Kylian hums, his fingers stilling against your skin. “Go on.”

You shift to look at him. “Waking up to a snowy Christmas morning, the kind I always imagined but never really got to experience properly in the UK.” You smile softly, lost in the thought. “Drinking hot chocolate after being out in the cold all day, watching the snowfall from inside, curled up under a blanket. It just feels… right.”

Kylian doesn’t respond immediately. His usual teasing smirk is gone, replaced by something softer. His eyes stay locked on yours, full of something unreadable, something deep, something warm.

“Okay,” he murmurs eventually, pressing a lazy kiss to your collarbone. “Whatever you want.”

The way he says it, so effortlessly, so certain, makes your breath catch.

Your fingers tighten slightly against his arm. “That easy?”

His lips quirk. “If it makes you happy, yeah.” His voice dips lower, more sincere. “That’s all I want.”

Your heart squeezes.

His gaze holds yours, intense and earnest. “Whatever it takes. Whatever you need. I want to see you happy, always.”

You freeze for a second, the weight of his words hitting you hard in the chest. You bite your lip, trying to brush it off with a soft laugh. “You make me miserable at work sometimes,” you joke lightly, trying to avoid the tension building in the pit of your stomach.

Kylian huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, but you love it.” He nudges his nose against your jaw, kissing the corner of your lips. “And we both know that’s not really true.”

Your smile falters. He’s right. You do love it. You love the way he pushes you, the way he challenges you. You love the way he always finds a way to get under your skin, never letting you pull away completely. You love the teasing, the back-and-forth, the way he never lets you win too easily. And maybe, if things were different, if you weren’t already halfway out the door, you’d let yourself admit just how much he truly means to you.

The thought nearly knocks the air from your lungs.

You shouldn’t be thinking like this. Not when you’re about to leave. Not when you’ve already decided.

Kylian watches you closely, picking up on the shift in your expression. His hands smooth over your back beneath his hoodie. “Hey,” he murmurs, coaxing you back to the moment. “Talk to me.”

You force a smile, blinking back the burn behind your eyes. “I’m just thinking,” you say, voice softer than before.

“About what?”

You shake your head, pushing up to kiss him before he can pry any further. He lets you, his lips moving slowly against yours, but when you pull back, his eyes are still searching. Still looking for something you’re not ready to give him.

He doesn’t press. He just holds you closer, his arms tightening around you. He moves his fingers towards your back. His touch is lazy at first, skimming up and down your spine, tracing slow circles that lull you into a comfortable haze. The glow of the TV flickers across the room, casting soft light over both of you, but neither of you are paying attention anymore.

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.

You hum in response, sinking further into his embrace, but his grip tightens just slightly, like he’s not letting you drift away from him so easily.

“Talk to me,” he coaxes, voice dipping lower, smoother.

You hesitate, then force a small smile. “I’m just thinking.”

Kylian tilts his head, watching you closely, searching. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your hoodie, skating across your bare skin, dragging slow patterns along your lower back. “About what?”

You shake your head, forcing the tears to stay put. The weight of the moment, of being here in his space, his home, presses down on you. It makes it all feel too real, too heavy, like you’re on the edge of something irreversible.

Instead of answering, you push up slightly, kissing him before he can pry further. He lets you, lets you press your lips to his in a slow, languid kiss, lets you sink into him, but when you pull back, his eyes are still on you. Still looking for something you’re not ready to give him.

His fingers flex at your waist, kneading gently. “I know you, bébé,” he murmurs, voice quiet but firm. “I know you completely. Something’s on your mind, tell me.”

You exhale, brushing your nose against his. “I don’t want to think right now.”

A slow smile tugs at his lips. “No?”

You shake your head, tugging at the hem of his hoodie. “Help me stop thinking.”

His gaze darkens, his smile fading into something softer, something fonder. He shifts beneath you, pressing up, letting you feel the hard length of him through his sweats.

“Anything you want,” he murmurs.

His hands slip under the hem of your hoodie, pushing the fabric higher, exposing more of your skin. His palms drag along your sides, thumbs grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, teasing but never fully touching.

You inhale sharply, arching into his touch. “Kylian-”

He flips you before you can finish, pressing you back into the couch cushions, his body settling over yours. His lips find your throat, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His breath is warm, his stubble scraping lightly as he works his way lower, taking his time, savoring you.

“Tu es si belle,” he murmurs against your collarbone. “Toujours.”

Your fingers slide around his neck, tugging lightly. “Kylian-”

“Shhh,” he soothes, lips brushing the swell of your breast. His hands slip beneath the fabric of your hoodie, pushing it higher until you lift your arms, letting him tug it over your head. The cool air rushes over your bare skin, but his warmth is quick to replace it, his mouth closing over one nipple, his tongue circling slow and deliberate.

A gasp escapes your lips, your back arching as he sucks lightly, teasing with his teeth before soothing with his tongue. His free hand slides down, fingertips tracing the waistband of your leggings, dipping just beneath but never quite where you need him.

“You’re always so impatient,” he murmurs against your skin, smiling against your breast.

You huff, tugging at his hair in frustration. “Then stop teasing.”

Kylian chuckles, but he listens, sliding lower, pressing lingering kisses down your stomach, over your navel, down to the waistband of your shorts. He tugs them down slowly, dragging them past your thighs, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your legs.

The air in his apartment feels heavy, thick with something unspoken. The dim lighting casts long shadows against the sleek furniture, the dark walls, the framed jerseys that make this space his. It smells like him, cologne, clean linen, something deeper that lingers on his skin.

It unsettles you. It makes it impossible to forget where you are, what this is.

By the time he settles between your thighs, your breath is uneven, your fingers trembling slightly where they run in his curls. He presses a final kiss against the inside of your knee before looking up at you, eyes dark and full of something unreadable.

“Relax,” he murmurs, hands gripping your thighs, pushing them further apart. “Just let yourself feel.”

Before you can respond, he dips down, his mouth meeting your soaked heat in one slow, deliberate stroke.

Your gasp is sharp, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He hums against you, like he’s savoring the taste, before licking another slow stripe up your slit, his tongue circling your clit in teasing, languid strokes. His grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you open for him as he works you up, building the pressure inside you with every flick of his tongue.

“Kylian,” you whimper, hips lifting instinctively.

His hands press down, pinning you in place. “I’ve got you,” he soothes, before sucking your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue in perfect rhythm.

Your body tenses, heat curling low in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter with every calculated stroke of his tongue. He’s slow, thorough, completely focused on unraveling you, like nothing else in the world exists except this, except you.

When his fingers slip inside you, curling just right, a broken moan escapes your lips, your head tipping back.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against you, pressing another kiss to your thigh. “Let go for me.”

You do.

Pleasure washes over you in slow, rolling waves, your body trembling as he coaxes you through it, never letting up, his mouth and fingers working in perfect sync until you’re gasping, shaking, barely able to breathe.

Only then does he finally lift his head, lips glistening, a pleased smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Tu es magnifique,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses up your stomach, your ribs, your throat. “Every fucking inch of you.”

Your pulse is still racing when he presses his forehead against yours, his hands framing your face.

“Are you still with me?” he asks softly, searching your gaze.

You nod, still breathless. “Yeah.”

Kylian kisses you, slow and deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hands slide down, gripping your thighs, shifting you beneath him.

The weight of being here in his home, his space, llingers between you. It should feel wrong. It should feel like a mistake. But when he lifts you, carrying you to his bedroom, pressing you into his sheets, it only feels inevitable.

“Je t’—” he starts, voice rough, raw.

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “Don’t.”

His jaw tightens, something flickering behind his eyes. But he doesn’t push. Instead, he presses his lips to your throat, his body covering yours, grounding you in this moment, in this choice.

He pushes into you slowly, filling you inch by inch, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your fingers dig into his back, your body stretching to take him.

Kylian groans, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, baby.” His voice is thick, unsteady. “You feel so good.”

He holds himself still for a moment, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him. His lips press against your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

Then he moves.

Slow, deep thrusts, his hips rolling into yours in a steady rhythm, dragging pleasure through every nerve in your body. His hands grip your thighs, holding you close, like he never wants to let go.

“I want you,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “All of you.”

Your breath hitches.

And maybe, if things were different, you’d let him say what he was going to. Maybe you’d say it back.

But tonight, you let your body speak for you.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper, closer.

The warmth of his breath fans across your skin as Kylian presses his forehead to yours, rolling his hips into you with slow, deliberate strokes. Each thrust sends pleasure rippling through your body, winding you tighter and tighter around him.

He feels so good, deep and thick and perfect, stretching you open in the most intoxicating way. His fingers grip your hips, anchoring you to him, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“Bébé,” he murmurs, voice rough, ragged with need. “You feel so fucking good.”

You moan in response, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him even closer. His body presses against yours, heat radiating between you, his heart pounding just as wildly as your own.

“Kylian,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re- God, you’re perfect.”

A groan rumbles in his throat, his pace stuttering just slightly, like your words have knocked the air out of him. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that make your back arch off the bed.

“Say it again,” he demands, his lips brushing against your jaw.

You gasp as pleasure curls low in your stomach, a fire burning hotter and hotter with each roll of his hips.

“You’re perfect,” you murmur, fingers dragging through his hair. “I love the way you touch me, I love the way you make me feel.”

His breath hitches, his thrusts turning deeper, more deliberate, like he’s savoring every inch of you. “Bébé…”

Your nails rake down his back, urging him on. “I love the way you always know what I need, I love the way you always make me feel so good.”

His lips claim yours in a deep, searing kiss, swallowing your moans as he pushes you closer to the edge. His tongue slides against yours, his breath mingling with yours, his body moving in perfect rhythm with yours.

“I need you,” you admit, your voice breaking, tears threatening to fall. “I need you so much.”

Kylian groans, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands gripping your thighs as he buries himself even deeper inside you. “You have me,” he promises. “Always.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your walls fluttering around him, pulling him in tighter. He grits his teeth, his control slipping, his pace turning rougher, more desperate.

“You’re mine,” he mutters, his breath hot against your lips. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, your body trembling, every nerve ending sparking with pleasure. “I’m yours, Kylian.”

His groan is guttural, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you with him as he thrusts harder, deeper. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard tapping softly against the wall, the sounds of your bodies moving together filling the space around you.

Your climax builds, the pressure coiling so tight it feels unbearable. Kylian feels it too, the way your body clenches around him, the way your breath catches, the way your moans grow higher, needier.

“Come for me,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your temple, his fingers still circling your clit, sending sparks shooting up your spine. “Let me feel you.”

His name tumbles from your lips as you shatter beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in a blinding wave. Your body clenches, trembles, your nails digging into his back as he follows right after you, groaning as he spills deep inside you.

For a moment, neither of you move, bodies tangled, chests heaving, the world spinning around you. Kylian presses a kiss to your shoulder, then another to your jaw, his hands smoothing over your sides, grounding you.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice softer now, tender.

You nod, still breathless, still tingling from the aftershocks. “Yeah.”

His fingers trace slow patterns along your back, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re so beautiful.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw, warmth blooming in your chest.

Maybe you’ll regret this in the morning. Maybe you’ll wake up and remember why you can’t have this, why you can’t stay.

But tonight, you let yourself believe in the fantasy.

Tonight, you let yourself have him.

The room is quiet now, save for the sound of your breaths mingling, the slow rise and fall of your chests pressed together. Kylian hasn’t moved from where he’s nestled against you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. His body is warm, solid, grounding you in a way that makes your chest tighten.

You can still feel him inside you, his release seeping from between your thighs, a lingering reminder of just how deeply you let him in tonight. And for once, the weight of that doesn’t send you spiraling. It doesn’t terrify you.

Instead, you just feel… full. Complete. Like you’re exactly where you should be.

Kylian shifts slightly, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple. “You’re quiet again,” he murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion, yet laced with something softer, something fonder.

You hum, tracing absent patterns along his back. “Just thinking.”

His arms tighten around you, his fingers splaying across your lower back. “About what?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. Then, before you can stop yourself, you admit the truth.

“You.”

Kylian stills, his breath catching. Then he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and searching, like he’s trying to memorize this moment, etch it into his bones.

“What about me?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

Your fingers brush over his jaw, your thumb grazing his bottom lip. “How much you mean to me,” you whisper. “How much i-” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. “How much I feel when I’m with you.”

Something flickers in his gaze, something raw and vulnerable. He exhales slowly, his forehead pressing against yours. “You don’t have to be scared of that,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over yours. “Of us.”

Your eyes flutter shut, your fingers curling against his skin. “I don’t know how not to be.”

Kylian exhales a quiet laugh, but there’s no amusement in it, just understanding. He kisses you softly, lingering, savoring. “Then I’ll show you,” he promises against your lips. “I’ll show you every day.”

Your heart stumbles.

You don’t know if you can let yourself believe that. But right now, in the safety of his arms, with his breath warm against your skin and his body wrapped around yours, you want to.

You tuck your head beneath his chin, pressing your face into his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, soothing in a way that makes your limbs grow heavy.

Kylian sighs contentedly, his fingers stroking your back in slow, lazy circles. “Stay with me,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

You know he doesn’t just mean for the night.

But for now, you let yourself pretend.

“Okay,” you whisper, your eyes drifting shut, your body melting against his.

Kylian hums, his arms tightening around you, his lips pressing one last kiss to your hair.

And then, for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall asleep feeling safe.

The room is silent except for the steady rhythm of Kylian’s breathing. His warmth surrounds you, his arm draped loosely over your waist, fingers curled slightly against your stomach, as if even in sleep, he doesn’t want to let you go.

You don’t move at first.

You just lay there, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against your back, listening to the sound of his breath. Memorising the way it feels to be held by him.

Because this is the last time.

The thought grips you like a vice, making your throat tighten.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to hold onto the moment, but the pressure in your chest only grows. This night, the way he touched you, the way he whispered to you between kisses, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world, it made it all too real.

And now, you have to leave it behind.

Your fingers curl into the sheets. You know you should move, should slip out of his grasp before you lose the nerve, but you can’t. Not yet.

You shift slightly, just enough to turn your head, to look at him.

Kylian sleeps soundly, his features softened, the tension he always carries in his brow smoothed away. His lips are parted slightly, his hair mussed from your fingers, his bare shoulder rising and falling with each breath.

Your chest aches.

A part of you wants to stay. Wants to forget everything outside this moment.

But you can’t.

Carefully, slowly, you begin to move, slipping out from under his arm inch by inch, holding your breath when he stirs. His fingers twitch against the sheets, searching for you even in sleep.

You freeze.

For a second, you think he’s going to wake up, that he’ll see you standing there, that he’ll say your name and ruin everything.

But then he exhales deeply and stills.

You swallow hard, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, forcing yourself to stand. The cool air hits your bare skin, making you shiver as you grab your top and leggings from the floor, pulling them on with shaking hands.

His hoodie is draped over the armrest of the couch, but you don’t move toward it yet.

Instead, your eyes drift to the shelf by the window, where a collection of framed photos sits. You didn’t want to really stop to look at them before, you were careful not to let yourself linger too much in his space, too much in his world.

But now, something catches your eye.

A photo, slightly smaller than the others.

You step closer before you can stop yourself, your breath catching when you realize what it is.

It’s Kylian, years younger, maybe eight or nine. His face is rounder, his smile bright and full of unrestrained joy. He’s holding a football in his arms, but it’s his shirt that makes your stomach twist.

A Real Madrid jersey.

Your vision blurs, your fingers tightening at your sides.

Of course.

This was always meant to happen, wasn’t it?

You stare at the photo, at the boy in the Madrid shirt, and suddenly, everything becomes clear.

No matter how much he loves Paris, no matter how much he loves PSG, this was always the path he was meant to take.

And maybe, maybe leaving him now is part of that path, too.

Maybe he’ll hate you for it.

Maybe he’ll never forgive you.

But one day, he’ll be in Madrid. One day, he’ll have everything he’s ever dreamed of.

And maybe you can be together properly.

Your breath shudders as you turn away, grabbing his hoodie from the couch. For a second, you consider taking it. Some small part of you, some foolish, selfish part, wants to cling to it, to hold on to something of his.

But you can’t.

You can’t leave with a piece of him when you’ve already taken so much.

You hesitate for just a second, just long enough to let your fingers graze the soft fabric, before you drop it.

It lands on the cushions, the only proof you were ever here at all.

Your vision swims as you turn back toward the door, your chest aching with a pain so deep it feels unbearable.

You don’t look back.

If you do, you’ll break.

So instead, you walk away.

You block his number before you even step out of the apartment.

And then, with a deep, shaking breath, you step into the night.

Present day

Kylian doesn’t let go of your wrist until you’re both alone outside the gym. Even then, he doesn’t step back. Doesn’t create space. Just stands there, gaze burning into yours like he’s still deciding what to say.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. Be calm. Be rational.

“You can’t just drag me out of there,” you say, keeping your voice even.

Kylian exhales sharply through his nose, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. “So, that’s it?” he says finally. “You really want to play this game?”

Your brows furrow. “What game?”

His jaw clenches. His hands twitch like he wants to run them over his face, but he doesn’t. He just looks at you. Really looks at you.

Like he’s trying to find something. Like he needs to.

“You, acting like that,” he says, voice taut. “Saying things just to get a reaction. Pretending none of this-” His voice cuts off, sharp with frustration.

You cross your arms. “I wasn’t pretending anything.”

Kylian scoffs, shaking his head. “Right. Because it’s normal for you to sit there talking about taking some random guy home.”

You bristle. “It was a joke, Kylian.”

His gaze sharpens. “Was it?”

You exhale, patience thinning. “You don’t get to do this,” you say, voice firmer now. “You don’t get to be upset with me. We agreed-”

Kylian lets out a bitter laugh. “No, you decided,” he corrects. “You decided we should be friends the moment you ran off. You decided to leave me behind. You decided to move on like it was nothing. And now you’re- what? Testing me?”

His voice is lower now, frustration simmering beneath every word.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Because he’s right. And he knows it.

Then, something snaps in Kylian.

The feeling that’s been building between you both isn’t just some playful tension anymore, it’s something deeper, something he can’t ignore.

A memory hits him like a gut punch.

“You’re lying, I know something is wrong” Kylian had murmured against your skin that night, voice rough, unreadable. His fingers traced your wrist, slow and careful,

You swallowed, forcing a small, tired smile. “I don’t lie.”

Kylian hummed, unconvinced. He shifted closer, breath warm against your temple.

“Then promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you won’t leave me.”

Your breath had caught in your throat.

And for a second, you almost told the truth.

But then Kylian’s hand slid over your back, slow, familiar. And you panicked.

So, you lied.

“I won’t.”

Kylian blinks, breath coming sharp.

The memory slams into him, clear as day. And suddenly, everything clicks.

This isn’t just about the joke. It’s you. This is what you do.

When things get too close - when he gets too close - you push. You act out. You find a way to run.

And he let you do it once. Let you lie to him. Let you run away.

Not this time. Not again.

Kylian shakes his head, stepping closer. “I changed my mind.”

You blink. “About what?”

“Being your friend.” His voice is steady, sure. “I don’t want that.”

Something in your chest tightens. “Kylian-”

He exhales, slow, like he’s finally seeing things clearly. “I get it now.” His voice is softer, but not weaker. If anything, it’s stronger. Final. “You get too close, and then you run.”

You stiffen.

His gaze never wavers. “You ran away from me once,” he says quietly, his tone low, deliberate.

Your breath catches.

Kylian doesn’t move. Doesn’t let you slip away.

His gaze stays locked onto yours, steady and unshaken. Final.

“I’m not letting you do that again,” he says, voice low.

Your breath catches. He’s watching you like he’s waiting for the fight, like he’s daring you to say something back.

But before you can, the gym doors swing open.

“Y/N!”

Luis’s voice cuts through the air, firm and expectant. You snap your head toward him, pulse still racing.

“We need you back inside,” he says, eyes flicking between you and Kylian, something unreadable in his expression.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

When you turn back to Kylian, he’s still watching you. Unwavering. Like he knows this conversation isn’t over.

Like he won’t let it be over.

You hold his gaze for a second longer, heart pounding, then you step past him and walk back inside.

But even as you go, you can feel it.

Kylian isn’t done. And neither are you.

Chapter 9

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf! Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 1,945

Warnings: 18+, descriptions of dilfs? This one is pretty tame tbh

Chapter 1: Mr. Grimes

Packing your bags for winter break, you thanked your lucky stars you had somewhere to call home for the next month and a half. There was the option of staying in the dorms but you came to terms with the fact that that would simply be too sad. Plus you certainly couldn’t go back to your parent's house, you hadn’t spoken to those two since the day you graduated high school. You were finally well and truly on your own. College was everything you had dreamed it would be. Partially thanks to Judith, your roommate, for dragging you out of the dorm that first week of school. 

You purposely picked the earliest move-in date and had already been living in the dorm for two weeks before Judith even arrived. You tried your best to spruce it up with what little decor you had and sat wringing your hands all day for this girl to appear. With random roommate assignments who knew what you’d be getting? When the door began to open with a click! of the handle, your stomach dropped to your toes, but the second Judith walked in you knew everything would be okay. She immediately ran over to you and almost knocked you over with a bear hug. She was the sunshine that brought you out of your shell, and you two were BFFs since that very day. When she invited you to stay with her family over winter break, it was nearly impossible to say no. 

~~~

“C’mon y/n we’d have so much fun! I can show you around my town, I mean what little there is to see, but still! We can go ice skating, watch movies, have snowball fights with my brother- plus my dad makes some seriously fucking good eggnog.” Judith chatted into your ear as you were finishing up your last essay for finals. You sighed and pushed away from your desk, rubbing your eyes. This paper would be the death of you, especially with Judith's distractions. “That all sounds great, really, but wouldn’t it be an imposition on you guys? I mean Christmas is kinda special and I don’t want to be intruding on your-” Judith cuts you off. “Please intrude! We do the same stuff every year, it gets sooo boring. Anyways, I’ll miss you too much, so I’m not really asking at this point.” Judith plops on her bed and opens her laptop. “This is a kidnapping now?” you ask. Judith types furiously on her computer, “For the greater good. You can’t sit here and mope for the next month and a half, that’s too depressing.” She pauses for a second, staring at her laptop screen. “Is an 8 am train too early?” 

You sigh, and lean back, stretching, mulling it over for a moment.

 “Way, way, too early,” you say.

Judith looks up at you and smiles.

~~~

So here you were, bags packed and ready to go. You two took the bus to the Amtrak station and boarded easy-peasy. “Y’know, I always thought train travel would be like Murder on the Orient Express, but this is like… shanking on the shitty express,” you remarked as you examined the stained seat, shabby carpeting, and… let’s just say, unusual fellow passengers. You quickly corrected yourself, “I mean- not to sound ungrateful or anything.” Judith rolled her eyes in agreement, “Believe me this isn’t my first choice either. It’s only a four-hour drive, if my dad would let me bring my truck up we wouldn’t have to-” she was interrupted by the train starting up. It began to slowly peel away from the station. “Here we go!” you exclaimed, surprising yourself with how oddly excited you felt. Judith yawned, shifting in her seat. “I should’ve gone with the noon train, even 10 am feels like the crack of dawn.”

20 minutes later you were bored as hell and Judith was fast asleep, snoring every once in a while. Your phone had spotty service as it was, but now going through the countryside it was virtually impossible to do anything. You occupied yourself by looking out of the window. When that got boring you too tried to close your eyes, but Judith's snores were becoming increasingly loud. You looked at her and contemplated throwing goldfish into her half-opened mouth, but decided against it. 

Studying her for a little, you concluded that she looked a lot like her dad, from the one time you met him. 

It was the day Judith moved in.

~~~

Judith pulled away from the hug, “Y/n, right? I’m Judith. It’s so nice to meet you! I like your energy already,” she held your hands as she said this. “That's so sweet of you, you too!” you responded. “And this is my– dad come on!” Judith turned to the door, ushering in her father. The man was balancing two large moving boxes, labeled aptly as Judith’s shit, which obscured his face. “Jesus Judith, what’s in here? Boulders?” He shuffled over and plopped down the two boxes on the twin bed across from yours, breathing out in a huff. “Just my rock collection.” Judith teased. Her father wiped his face and turned to you, making a clack sound in his cowboy boots, “Nice to meet ya, m’Rick” he said, extending his hand to you. 

You froze.

Damn. 

He was handsome. 

You didn’t typically use that word to describe guys. They were always “cute” or “hot,” but this wasn’t a guy: this was a man, and he was fucking handsome. His skin was a little bit bronzed from the summer sun, and you immediately found your mind wandering to where those tan lines might end. Rick's hair was dark brown, thick, and pushed back, ending in perfect curls. You were instantly enraptured by his stunningly blue eyes. How do eyes that blue even exist? Rick had a strong and direct gaze, and you got the feeling that from one look, he could know all about you. Was it crazy to say he had a sexy nose too? You had never liked facial hair until this day. This was nothing like the scraggly high school mustaches you were accustomed to. Rick had a short, slightly salt-and-pepper, beard that perfectly accentuated his high cheekbones. His voice was deep and rough, with a sexy southern drawl that you clocked immediately. He wore a plain white t-shirt which, due to the August heat, stuck to him in just the right places. 

Damn. 

The dark blue jeans fit him perfectly, paired with a black belt cluttered by loops and pouches, what for? You weren't sure. The only thing you could identify on the belt was the gun holster, and the revolver snugly clasped in it. 

You took all this in in the few seconds he had turned to you. His hand was still outstretched when you came to.

“Oh- hi Mr. Grimes, I’m y/n.” You shook his hand gently in a daze. His hands were warm, a little rough, and covered yours completely when he brought the other one on top. “Nice to meetcha y/n. And just Rick is fine.”

Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick.

You nodded your head fervently and withdrew from the handshake. You did your best to act normal but your eyes drifted straight back down his body to the revolver. Judith had already made herself busy unpacking, and didn’t even need to turn around to know what you must be wondering, “Dad I told you to leave your gun in the truck, it freaks people out.” She turned back to the both of you, holding a teddy bear, “Don’t worry y/n he’s not in the mafia or something, that’d be way too cool for him.” Rick shook his head with a smile, his hand on his hip, “How do ya know I’m not?” Judith moved swiftly past him, grabbing something from his belt. “Hey!” Rick laughed. She tossed it to you and upon catching it, you turned it over in your hands. It was a shiny gold sheriff's deputy badge. 

Officer Rick Grimes.

Damn.

You chuckled lightly and handed it back to him, your fingers brushing his, as Judith entered the bathroom with a box labeled shower shit. “Don’t let your mob buddies see that badge,” you teased. Rick smiled (Damn.) and put it back in his belt pocket, “Thanks for the tip.” 

Judith emerged from the bathroom, “Dinner?”

The dinner was unfortunately quick, mostly Judith talked and you listened. Rick chimed in now and again but it was more for you two roommates to get to know each other. You couldn't help but sneak a few glances at Rick throughout the dinner. You watched as his muscles flexed in his forearms, studied when he’d crack a smile, and nearly swooned when he leaned back and swept a hand through his hair, his arm outstretched on the booth behind Judith.

It was like he was magnetic. Every time you looked away you felt a calling for more. You shook the feeling as best you could and focused on Judith. You found out she had a younger brother, Carl, who was a bit of a troublemaker. Through mouthfuls of pasta, Judith put it bluntly that their mom had passed away years ago. "I'm sorry to hear that," you responded. You glanced at Rick for a reaction, finding nothing. You told Judith about your family, sugar-coating some of the details as you swirled your pasta around, not making eye contact. She seemed to catch on fast and didn’t pry. You already liked that about her.

After paying for dinner, and you thanking him profusely, Rick escorted the two of you back to your dorm building. He gave Judith a bear hug goodbye, “I wish I could stay longer sweetheart but I gotta get up early in the mornin’.” He looked over to you and winked “Mafia stuff.” You smiled (oh my god) back as Judith pulled away. “It’s alright, I’ll see ya at parent's weekend pops!” She kissed him quickly on the cheek and headed towards the stairwell to the dorms. Rick chuckled, then shrugged his shoulders and looked to you, “She’s keepin' it all inside.” He said, patting his heart. You laughed, “I’m sure.” Judith yelled to you from the door, “C’mon y/n we gotta lot of catchin’ up to do!” You turned back to Rick, “Thank you so much again for dinner. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Grimes.” He clasped a hand down on your shoulder (fuck). “No problem, you girls be good now, ya hear?” He leaned down closer to you, whispering, “Don’t let her drive you crazy”. You titter nervously, a little overzealous, as he pulls away. Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god.

You could smell his cologne. Or maybe it was just him. A rich, woodsy, musk that you wanted to stuff your face into.

“I heard that Dad!” Rick spun on his heel and began walking away, his hands in his deputy jacket pockets. “Goodnight girls.” You watched him walk away for a moment, then followed after Judith.

~~~

That was nearly 5 months ago, and the last time you’d seen Rick Grimes. You didn’t have a crush per se, I mean, he was a grown man and you were….…well, technically of age, but it would be weird, right? Right??

I mean maybe it's not so bad if- NO. You need to snap out of it. You hadn’t even thought about him (much) the whole semester, but the notion of seeing him again gave you butterflies that you desperately tried to squash. He is your best friend's dad for god's sake. Not that anything would ever happen, but there was no reason to make things weird for yourself in your own mind. He’s Judith's dad, and he just so happens to be good-looking, nothing more nothing less.

Well- really good-looking. And funny too. Very charming. But nonetheless your best friend's dad! 

A dilf and your best friend's dad. 

This was going to be a long winter break.

***

notes: ahhhhhhh! ok so this is my first fic ever and I already have a few more chapters written and planned so lmk what you think! All comments, reposts, etc. are very much appreciated <3 stay tuned for more!

[spa-ghett0]

Are there any other interesting tidbits/changes in the Sonic movie novelization?

I’ll be honest, I didn’t read the first book lol I was really only interested in whether the writers had given Tails more of a backstory (which they did… kinda), so that’s why I read the second. However! I did read reviews online that said the first developed Tom & Sonic’s relationship more than in the movie.

Notable mentions in the 2nd book:

•Sonic 2 takes place 8 months after Sonic 1

• Tails spent many months seemingly looking for Sonic… He built those weapons Maddie & Rachel used at the wedding to account for the “natural disasters, dangerous adversaries, and booby traps” he encountered. (I mean!! That’s a whole tv show in itself!!)

• He also built a gun that atomizes things and he’s afraid of it, but he keeps it in his arsenal as a last resort. The text says that he isn’t sure it should be used, which is so interesting to me.

• I think he originally set out to look for the Master Emerald, but the Miles Electric (not what it's called in this universe but that’s what it is) kept picking up its energy across different planets... and somehow he knew that energy belonged to Sonic?

• Earth is the planet the rest of the galaxy is warned about lol

• Knuckles calls Sonic a Child of Mobius. Tails says that's "the traditional home of our kind".

• Tails is looking to find Sonic before “their enemies” do (weird that they have common enemies when they’ve never met?? WHO has Tails pissed off?????? Paramount!! I need to know!!)

• He was ready and willing to prepare Wade's garage for a siege attack (in exchange for stealing the police cruiser and driving it off a cliff). So, again—who has Tails pissed off?

• Instead of "The Master Emerald? That's just a bedtime story!" "Well, he believes it's real," it's "That's just a bedtime story!" "No, it's real. I should know. I think I’m one of the few still looking for it.” (What if one of his ‘enemies’ is Rouge? 👀)

• Tails runs the red light, and Sonic takes the wheel. Meanwhile, Tails climbs in the backseat of the cruiser to build speed boosters mid-chase 'cause Sonic was complaining they were going too slow xD. (This is where the "Promise? Promise you won't go anywhere?" happens :'))

• Tradition among the echidnas was to do an organ swap to make an alliance. Knuckles just breaks Eggman's hand instead, but that's… a part of the lore now. (edit: this is in my Top 5 favorite things from this book. I can imagine someone pitching this idea & the writer’s room going “what the fuck this is a kids movie” lmao)

• Tails offered to help Sonic in Siberia. No "I'm not a field guy!" protests here!

• Short Tails vs Eggman on the mountain (with very Sonic Raised Tails vibes 🥹; the text even says "Tails mocked the villain, almost like Sonic would have")

• Sonic doesn't believe he can fight Eggman and Knuckles alone after the wedding. Tom actually gives him a pep talk.

• Eggman's full name is Ivo Gerald Robotnik (Is that canon in other sonic medias?? I tried looking it up, but I don't see his name like that anywhere, yet I swear I already knew before I read it… *Is his full name canon, I mean. Ivo Gerald Robotnik.)

• Book Sonic reminds me of Modern Sonic more than his movie counterpart sometimes tbh

• There are multiple holograms of Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails at the start of the robot fight instead of just Tails.

• Maddie and Tom literally run through fire to reach Sonic

• Tails names Super Sonic!

• Instead of summoning a chili dog to prove he's not been corrupted by the Emerald, Sonic makes a fart noise with his armpit that has the "decibel of a bomb blast"

• Sonic recreates the Master Emerald, not Knuckles

• "Gotta go fast!" (when Sonic is running across the ocean to meet Eggman and Knuckles at the temple) and "Way past cool!" (post-battle when Tails introduces Knuckles to the power bump)

[tryingtofindava]

pls im begging for dating ticci toby headcanons 🙏🙏

──𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ‘𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢’ 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

THIS HAS BEEN UPDATED!!

: ̗̀➛ Back to source

My god.

This boy is full of so much love.

Y’all take FOREVER to actually get together.

It got to the point where Toby got frustrated and was all like “should I just kill them?” (Assuming you ain’t a proxy)

What I’m tryna say is he’s sorta oblivious to his feelings towards you.

But he’s so scared to get attached to you, cuz every time he’s ever gotten close to someone they die.

But when y’all (finally) get together after a long ahh slow burn.

YOU TWO ARE LITERALLY THE CUTEST OMD.

He was so surprised that you said yes when he asked you out. Like- you? The pretty girl who he had the the pleasure of becoming friends with???? Says yes to him????

He’s so happy

Buttttttttttttttt.

So awkward it’s almost painful.

One time you kissed him on his cheek, bro was all like ‘🧍’

But when you guys get past that awkward stage? You guys are practically attached to the hip.

And I know most of the fandom hates the ‘soft Toby’ stereotype, but I feel like that’s just how he is w you (though he does have his moments…)

Lots of reassurance. It’s needed if y’all wanna last.

He isn’t used to have someone be so affectionate towards him. Since deadass the only person who’s showed him genuine love was Lyra.

When y’all first met, he’d always wear a massive ass bandage over the gash on his cheek.

Every time you saw it you gave him the ‘🤨’ look, which he’s just shrug it off. And when you’d ask him about it, he’d say something like:

“It’s ruh-rude to ask t-that.”

He’d even continue wearing it INTO your dating life, he’ll eventually cave in since it’s been around 8 months of him wearing it around you. And a wound would normally be healed by now. He wasn’t at all surprised by your reaction of shock. He’ll always have it on out of the apartment though. No exceptions.

His pet names are always the sweetest.

He calls you ‘pretty thing’ soooo much it became a tic.

Speaking of pet names I feel like he’d also give you lots of nicknames in German. (Since he has German relatives and learned to speak it at a young age :P)

Stuff like Maus, Hase, Schatz, Liebling, Blume, hübsches Mädchen, meine Liebe. And those are just his favourites, there is many more.

Eskimo kisses? Eskimo kisses. He thrives off them, or maybe he just thrives off positive attention…. Definitely the latter.

He try’s his best to keep the whole murder part of his life away from you. But it’s obvious so… that was one long night of going over things.

Anywaysssss.

AQUARIUM DATES! Y’all get in your grandpa jumpers and walk around the aquarium holding hands and looking at all the cool fish n’ shit.

HE LOVES LOVES LOVES NECK KISSES.

He’s a slut for knowing he’s yours.

He loves teasing the shit outta you for being short. Even though he’s like 3 inches taller…

“I’ve been b-breaking my buh-back k-k-kissing you, babe.”

“Piss off.”

He loves laying between your legs with his face flushed against your chest while you run your fingers through his hair and itch his scalp.

When you guys are sleeping, you’ll constantly have to make sure he doesn’t get too over headed or cold due to his CIPA.

Speaking of sleeping, he grinds his teeth while he’s dreaming. So just gently grab his chin to stop him. And he’s a deep ass sleeper so he won’t feel it lol.

He isn’t a big fan of PDA when you guys aren’t behind closed doors, but he’ll ALWAYS hold your hand.

On the less sappy note, when he’s having a tic attack he will not allow you to come near him. He’s so scared of hurting you.

And when he’s having an episode?

Make sure you stay calm. And maybe get to him before he gets to you. He’ll be so upset if he did hurt you while going through one of his schizophrenic like states.

To help him through his manic episode, stay as calm as you can, let him know that, although you don’t share the belief that it’s real, you understand that it is real to him. Try and keep focused on supporting him with how he’s feeling in that moment, rather than confirming or challenging his reality.

If he does snap at you, he’ll feel so guilty. He will think that he’s just like his dad.

He’ll probably disappear for a few days, but when he comes back he’s begging for you to not leave him. Like he’s full on sobbing.

Hold him.

He’s clingy. Like super clingy. Clingy to the point where it just becomes obnoxious. And gets a bit irritating but he means well :(

He loves you like a dog, and he’ll do anything for you. He trusts you with his whole being and hopes you feel the same.

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[persevereforahappyending]

Maybe in Another Life |8|

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader

Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.

Warnings: Slight Titans Curse Spoilers

Word Count: 2.2k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17

You trekked through the woods with your sisters until Artemis decided on a spot to settle for the night. It had been about two months since you left Camp Half-Blood, since you last saw Clarisse, since Zoe died and Thalia joined the Hunters, taking her place as lieutenant. You threw yourself into the Hunt as much as possible, focusing only on what you needed to. It didn’t work, you were still reminded of Zoe’s loss every time you looked up at the night sky. You thought the distance from Clarisse would kill your crush, if you weren’t seeing her every day and spending time with her, you figured your newly developing feelings would be quickly snuffed out and everything would go back to the way it was, you were wrong about that as well.

You should have known grieving Zoe wouldn’t be as quick as the others. Losing a sister was always hard, losing the person who’s been by your side for a thousand years, that pain was indescribable. You took risks during hunts, cutting it close a few times, a lot closer than necessary. All because you took chances Zoe would have never let you take.

Everyone handled grief differently, some moved on quicker, some, like you, were still dealing with the loss just as hard a few months later. Even in a group of Hunters, that traveled together, lived together, and were around each other every day, all grieved differently. A lot of your sisters came together, spending more time together and just appreciating each other more. You were the opposite, distancing yourself as much as possible. You’d still train with them, you could still work flawlessly as a team, but you didn’t talk to them, not really. Thalia was similar to you; she was clearly grieving Zoë as well. She was also still getting used to the whole Hunter thing, she was a natural leader but some of your traditions, you guess could call them that, she was still learning.

You helped your sisters unpack, setting up each of the tents around where the campfire would go. A few of your sisters were already in position around various points of the campsite to keep watch for the night. When everything was unpacked, and your sisters started gathering around the campfire next to Artemis, you made yourself scarce. You caught Thalia’s eye and gave her a nod to let her know you’d be back. She watched you for a second before returning the nod, redirecting her attention back to Artemis who she sat beside. You knew Thalia had questions or thoughts on what you did but she never questioned you, you appreciated that, you didn’t have anything to hide but you didn’t feel like discussing these things with her.

You made your way through the woods, the chatter of your goddess and sisters getting quiet the more distance you put between you and them. You smiled when you came upon the creek you had been anxious to get to. The trees opened up around the creek, revealing the night sky in its entirety. You looked up, your eyes instantly finding Zoe’s constellation. You sighed, before pulling out a gold drachma and your little mirror that helped you make a rainbow almost anytime you wanted.

You said your little prayer to Iris and tossed your gold drachma into the rainbow. It was only a few seconds before Clarisse’s face appeared in the rainbow. “Hey,” you said, smiling.

You and Clarisse had Iris messaged each other every week since you left camp. Usually multiple times a week, there were weeks you talked every day. You could only talk to her when you guys were making camp or taking a break, so communication was more on your front than hers, but she always answered. You always tried to give her a good idea when you’d be able to contact her again or when you knew you’d be out all night and wouldn’t have time. Your talks were a nice break from the day to day of hunting and failing to find what you were looking for; besides, it was just nice to talk to her still.

“Hey,” Clarisse greeted. “How’s the hunt going?”

You let out a tired sigh, despite immortality and all the other perks of being a Hunter, you could still get exhausted. “That good?” Clarisse chuckled.

“Castellan really knows how to hide,” you mumbled. “Not that he deserves the credit, he is having quite a bit of help.”

You didn’t know all the details about what happened on the quest, all you knew was that despite what Percy originally thought, Luke was still alive. When you and the other Hunters caught up with Artemis again, she informed all of you that your new mission would be tracking Luke, anyone working with him, and gathering whatever information you could. Despite the years of experience Luke had the help of Kronos, the monsters, and who knew how many others. Every time you guys got a lead Luke was already gone, days ahead of you.

“We made camp for the night,” you sighed. “It kind of reminds me of your spot.” You looked around at your surroundings, there was a stream under the moonlight, surrounded by trees. You could almost believe you were back at Camp Half-Blood, except for the fact that you were in a different state hundreds of miles away.

“How are things there?” you asked.

“Well, Jackson’s gone, so it’s been nice,” Clarisse stated plainly. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Annabeth and I have been working on something.” A smirk appeared on her face.

“You and Annabeth are friends now?” you raised an eyebrow.

Clarisse was quick to scoff. “Let’s not go that far.”

“Oh, that’s right you don’t have friends,” you said, laughing at your own joke.

Clarisse made sure to flip you off and throw a glare that would intimidate most people through an iris message. Good thing you weren’t most people, and you found her glares harmless, they were actually almost adorable.

“What have you and Annabeth been working on?” You questioned when your laughter died down. If Clarisse was working with Annabeth on something, then it had to be important.

“I can’t tell you,” Clarisse said, giving you an apologetic look. You tilted your head at that, there wasn’t much Clarisse would keep secret from you unless it was absolutely important. “But I’ll be going on a secret mission in a few days so I might be unavailable.”

That made your heart drop and not just because you might not be able to talk with Clarisse. That uneasy feeling you got when Zoe was given her last quest came over you. It wasn’t as strong or as dire as the one with Zoe, but a little red warning light was going off in your head. You weren’t sure why, demigods went on quests all the time and Clarisse was more than capable, maybe you were reading too much into it because of your feelings for the daughter of Ares.

You had expected your feelings for the Ares girl to disappear after getting away from her, but it seemed with each passing day you only fell deeper. Every conversation, every new thing you learned about her, made you like her even more. There weren’t many people you could talk to for hours, but she was one, you didn’t even have to talk, even during an iris message the two of you could sit in silence and be comfortable.

“Who’s going with you on your quest?” You questioned. “Annabeth? That what the two of you are working on?”

“Actually…” she started. You scrunched your eyebrow when you saw Clarisse avoiding eye contact, which she never did. “It’s not an official quest.”

That sent a shiver down your spine, making you stand straighter. The only time campers left camp was when they were part timers and were going home for the school year or when they were going on a quest. Chiron never let campers wander out otherwise, it was much too dangerous for a demigod.

“What?” Your voice sounded hollow as you asked, already knowing you wouldn’t like whatever she said next.

“It’s a scouting mission,” Clarisse said. “Chiron asked for me specifically.” She gave you an apologetic smile, she clearly knew the risk of this mission but even through the iris message you could see the pride in her eyes.

“And Annabeth’s going with you?” you knew you were grasping for straws, but you had to hold onto the little bit of hope you had.

“No,” Clarisse admitted, straightening her back. “This is a solo mission.”

You looked to the ground, nodding your head. “Not going to wish me luck?” Clarisse joked, giving you her usual arrogant smile.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly chuckling. “Luck is for losers,” you said. “Just…” you sighed, looking up at the sky, your smile sure didn’t last long. “Stay alive.” You looked Clarisse right in the eyes. You knew you shouldn’t ask that.

“I promise.” You knew she shouldn’t promise that.

Demigods should never promise to stay alive; it was nearly an impossible task. Demigods were created to go on quests, to run errands for the gods, to fight their wars, and to die in their name. If Chiron was sending a camper on a mission, that couldn’t even be classified as an official quest, alone, you knew it must be of the utmost importance. You didn’t know Annabeth very well, just that you liked her more than Percy and Thalia. You also knew she was smart and if she was involved in helping set up the scouting mission then you had to assume the mission wasn’t meant to be dangerous. Not that that mattered, every mission and quest for a demigod was dangerous, just walking down the street could be the death of them.

“How’s the princess doing?” Clarisse asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You chuckled, Clarisse had taken to calling Thalia princess and you couldn’t deny that there were certainly times she acted like a princess, though she also commanded like one as well. “I mean…” you started, glancing behind you when you heard branches breaking. “She’s capable but it’s not like she’s the best lieutenant we’ve ever had.”

“Rude,” Thalia said, walking up behind you but staying far enough back that she didn’t overstep into your and Clarisse’s conversation.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You think you actually compare to Zoe?” you glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow.

Thalia rolled her eyes but raised her hands. “I have no notions of competing with Zoe.” You gave her a sad smile. You respected that though she might have taken over Zoe’s position, she was clearly not trying to replace Zoe, she understood you were all still grieving her. “Artemis wants you back.”

You nodded, watching as Zoe stepped further back, out of earshot of you and Clarisse. “Duty calls,” you said, looking back at Clarisse.

Clarisse nodded. “I shouldn’t be leaving on my mission for a few days, talk before then?”

“Of course,” you smiled as you both ended the call.

You sighed, you were going to talk to her at least one more time before her solo mission, hopefully. You were sure you’d be anxious until you got a call from her telling you she was back from the mission. You would happily listen to her recount the tales of her mission, exaggerating how heroic she was in whatever she was meant to be doing, you would listen to her for hours if it meant she returned alive.

“You two seem to have gotten close,” Thalia commented as the two of you made your way back to the campsite.

“We’re friends,” you mumbled, shrugging off the nerves you got at someone else noticing how much you seemed to care for Clarisse.

“Annabeth’s my best friend and even I don’t talk to her that much,” she mumbled.

“What are you implying?” you spun around, pulling her back by the arm.

You kept your gaze firm as you glared at her. You hadn’t broken your oath, but you weren’t sure you could deny your evolving feelings for the daughter of Ares if someone directly asked about them. You swallowed as you saw Thalia’s eyes scan over your face, widening slightly, the only reason you noticed was because you were inches from her.

“Nothing,” Thalia said, shaking her head. You frowned when she took a step back from you, Thalia never backed down and it was clear she had something to say. She pushed past you to walk back up the hill. “There’s nothing wrong with your friendship with Clarisse,” she turned her head just enough to barely glance back at you.

You watched her walk back up the hill. You couldn’t help but feel like there was a second meaning to Thalia’s words. You shook off the tense encounter before following her up the hill. The fire with all your sisters gathered around quickly came into view. Thalia took her seat at Artemis’s side. You took your place on the other side of Artemis, this was where you belonged, you needed to focus on the current objective and not worry about Clarisse. Who knew, maybe no contact for however long her mission took would do you some good, maybe your little crush on her would finally die.

Taglist: @cxcilla @touchmyfracturedomens @luclue @manu-007s-world

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Hi! It's a new year, and I've decided to make a small change to my space. I might gif less than I did last year cause at the end of the year I felt a bit of a burnout with the whole process, so I'll gif when I feel like it, and might not keep it as consistent. Also, I sorta got over myself and my insecurities and have started just posting more random thoughts, because who cares? This is my house and I shall inflict my opinions and silly thoughts on my followers. It's been great. I will update this post through the month mostly with links to the stuff I write in the meantime.

QL - Currently Watching

🇯🇵 Call Me by No-Name [6/8] - I don't even know what to say. This show looks incredible, but the writing is a mess.

🇰🇷 FC Soldout [4/10] - This is getting boring. And it's not like it was groundbreaking stuff to begin with.

🇹🇭 GelBoys [1/7] - I'm intrigued and impressed by the visuals. This will be messy, and I'm seated. Weekend ramblings

🇰🇷 Heart Stain [2/8] - Nuff said. I figured out why this is so boring, to me. Because so is the source material, never have I dropped a manhwa so fast.

🇨🇳 I'll Turn Around This Time [5/6] - What is it? No clue, but it's pretty.

🇹🇼 Impression of Youth [5/9] - The pacing of this one is weird. I felt like I missed an episode in between 4 and 5. The physical relationship felt sudden and emotionally unsupported. The sides are growing on me tho.

🇹🇭 Ossan's Love Th [7/12] - Haruto appearance! I love boyfriends HengMo. I'm not looking forward to all the people trying to break up the couple.

🇹🇭 Perfect 10 Liners [17/24] - I will be really sad to see YothaGun go, but I'm excited to see Faifa. Weekend ramblings

🇹🇭 Sangmin Dinneaw [7/8] - I don't even know what to say any more. This show is bonkers and not totally in a good way. Weekend Ramblings

🇹🇭 The Boy Next World [5/10] - They are good together but everything else is not clicking for me. I love the mind-reader though, he's delightful. Weekend ramblings

🇹🇭 The Heart Killers [10/12] - I finished watching. Quietly.

🇹🇭 ThamePo [9/13] - This show continues to be a delight and the biggest surprise in a really long time. Weekend ramblings

🇯🇵 When It Rains, It Pours [5/7] - I've been thinking...

QL - Finished

🇹🇭 Caged Again - Junior was delightful but the show got a bit choppy towards the end, there was too much time spent on the bad guys and I think the pacing suffered so the show lost me a bit in the last couple of episodes. JuniorSun delivered some great moments. I continue to love Nokia and Jaonine and will tune in if they make another show.

🇹🇭 Fourever You - I can't believe it's over. This was a long, hard slog. I like most of the actors a lot and they were what kept me going until the end. Hill and Ter get all the awards for miscommunication.

🇯🇵Miseinen - I think it started off really good but eventually the show got too much into the metaphors and the visuals and the story suffered. I really recommend reading the manhwa because I think the themes in the show kinda fell apart at some point and in that way I think the source material is much more satisfying. I still like the show overall and the actors did a wonderful job, but the show raised my expectations a lot and then couldn't really deliver.

🇹🇼 See Your Love - I love them a normal amount. That scene in the closet will make any favourite scenes list in the foreseeable future. This show did a lot of things well. The dad was still an asshole by the end, Ji Xiang wasn't magically fixed by the power of love, Shaopeng wasn't perfect and his family was one of the best parts and that dad vs dad scene was epic. With that said, everything else, the family drama and the side couple, was a mess. They all kiss good tho. As we've come to expect from Taiwan the kissing was very good all around, as were the nc scenes. I think they all had good chemistry, although I wish the side couple's story was tighter.

🇹🇭 Your Sky - This is a first but I liked all the couples. I gotta say those crumbs were glorious and I could watch a full show just with them. I think the main couple held this show together for me when it stumbled at times. They are very endearing and have great chemistry. I do think that at times, for me, it became too sweet, too unbalanced for me to enjoy all the fluff. And there were a couple of other things that I don't think worked but still, this was surprisingly good.

Others - Watched

It's been mostly a month of rewatches so not a lot to report. I did watch Paradise of Thorns a couple of weeks ago and I still have a lot of hate in my heart. Also squid game S2 , which I loved but pissed me off that they split the storyline into two seasons cause now I have to wait until June for the rest. Anyway...

I think that's all for now. Oh and I'm also watching and loving Red Blue. Despite what I said at the start, I'm still open for gif requests. Hope you all have a wonderful weekend and thank the heavens January is finally over. 💜

Coming in February 05/02 - 🇹🇭 Reverse with Me (GL) 06/02 - 🇰🇷 Heart Stain 07/02 - 🇻🇳 Fight for Love 08/02 - 🇹🇭 Gelboys 14/02 - 🇹🇭 The Last Time 14/02 - 🇹🇼 Exclusive Love 18/02 - 🇹🇼 Fragrance of the First Flower S2 (GL) 27/02 - 🇰🇷 Secret Relationship

[transforgaytion]

If you're still doing the "I wish" prompts, what about those really big eggs? I think it's emu eggs I'm thinking of. Plural :)

-always- accepting "I wish" prompts! (these are now accessible on my blog by clicking the "wishing curse" folder, and will be tagged with "wishingcursetf" ! Really? Is the first thought through her mind. Why on earth would someone utter those words in that order??? Who on earth desires emu eggs??

But before she has much time to react, she begins to feel the first subtle signs of the curse reacting. At first it's just a very very slight bloating feeling. Nothing is visible from the outside yet whatsoever. And at the mall of all places, on a busy Saturday afternoon...Nowhere to hide... How big are emu eggs again? She wonders to herself. To her shock, before she has time to leave the food court, the person who'd initially wished -kept talking-. "Yeah, I wish I had at least a dozen of 'em. Emu eggs, I mean. I wish I had some ostrich eggs too I guess, but I do like emus better as a whole, so I'd rather breed them than ostriches-" .... She pauses to process what she's just heard. How likely is it that at this mall she's stumbled across a wishful EMU FARMER. Wait a damn minute, did he say over a dozen???

Oh god. And with the size of them...this was about to get bad. The band of her jeans began to feel a bit tight against her stomach. They weren't loose jeans to begin with, but she knew what this meant.

She stood up from her seat, grabbed the trash from the table, and begun to quickly try to make an escape. If she could at least make it out to her car-...

"hey! What're you doing here?"

Are you -kidding-?

"Oh, sorry if I startled you!" her most recent ex continues as he looks at her, gauging how she's been doing since the breakup.

It was a smooth breakup, almost more of a break than an actual ending point for the relationship. But her ex didn't know about her curse. She wasn't cursed until two months ago, and they broke up around 5 months ago now.

"No, that's okay... I'm so sorry, I really have to go-" she started to try to exit the conversation, making it a point to apologize later, but she felt a very slight tug on her sleeve as her ex carefully got her attention as she moved to leave.

"Sorry, I just...it's been a while...you don't have a couple of minutes? I promise I won't take up too much of your time, I just-..."

The look in his eyes was so....so sad. So pleading. And he wasn't a bad guy, it's just...

"Look, I'm so sorry, I -really- have to go..."

The look on his face almost broke her heart. But she didn't have a lot of time to pay attention to her heart as her loose t-shirt was beginning to brush up against the skin of her stomach as it was slowly starting to protrude now.

"Wait!" he called after her as she tried to run. Her center of balance was already being thrown off, so she was already struggling to run like she would have been able to an hour ago.

She pants as she runs for the exit door, feeling more bloated than ever.

Once the automatic doors finally slide open, she's met with a terrible realization.

It's community day.

The whole town is in this mall parking lot, complete with food trucks from out of town, live music, the WORKS.

She slowly made her way through the crowd, resisting the urge to put a hand on her stomach to help her balance as she moved quickly through the people to the other side of the parking lot.

She'd actually parked on the other side of the mall entirely, but she got so desperate to leave that she'd gone for the first available exit.

She felt the fabric of the t-shirt starting to get tight around her slowly inflating stomach.

It felt so heavy. So hard. After last time, with the real babies, surely these eggs wouldn't be harder to birth, surely....

She clicks her car key fob a few times, listening through the noise from the community festival to try to hear her car's horn.

She can see it lighting up across the parking lot now, now it's just about making it over there.

 It's 8 rows over, she counts.

The t-shirt was starting to ride up. If anyone saw her, they'd definitely think she was pregnant. She wasn't pregnant yesterday. Word would get around that something's wrong with her if she wasn't careful.

She passes between cars, avoiding any people she sees, pulling her shirt back down over her still expanding bump.

It wasn't lumpy like she was afraid eggs might make it, so there must've been fluid in there too. It looked almost exactly like a typical human pregnancy, but perhaps shaped slightly differently?

 Either way, her shirt is slowly riding up her stomach higher as she continues to navigate the maze of cars, and her bra is beginning to feel tight.

She can feel her nipples getting so hard and rubbing up against it even with how hot it is outside.

She makes it to the car, -finally-, and turns the key in the ignition before pulling the front seat up as far as it'll go, and letting herself into the back seat.

She locks the door, and tries to breathe a sigh of relief. She feels huge now that she's sitting down, and she knows she's still growing.

Emu eggs. God. Why???? This curse was awful. There's no telling how many times she'd have to endure this.

They said ostrich eggs too...how big were those again?

She pulls the t-shirt off as it's now barely a bra functionally, her stomach too large to contain within it anymore.

She breathes in as her chest increases in size, causing her to rather desperately start moving to take her bra off, as the straps are starting to cut into her shoulders.

It has to start soon, right? The actual contractions have to start soon, she feels like she looks very due.

She finally gives in and lets herself run her hands along her stomach, rubbing it for comfort as it continues to grow.

"A dozen...." she says aloud, trying to keep herself calm.

At least this usually doesn't hurt as bad as real pregnancy would. Eggs should hopefully be even less painful than last time this happened.

Suddenly, as she's finally being able to relax a bit, she hears a loud sound against the car.

She looks up to see her ex, gently knocking at the driver's side window to see if she's in the car. He's really not a bad guy at all, something must be really bothering him for him to be this persistent, but damnit...now is SO not the time, she thinks.

It's not long before he notices her in the back seat. He glances from her face down to her stomach and then back.

She winces. He looks shocked. This isn't good.

"Oh my god!" Even though it's muffled, she can still hear him.

"Let me in, I can help!" he says, after watching her continue to rub her own "due-with-twins" sized belly.

She ignores him at first. She doesn't need help. He's not even supposed to know about this.

"I...I just saw you...how did you hide-...? You know what nevermind, I can still help! Please...?"

What on earth was his deal. And why was he being so-....he was willing to help after looking at her like this??

He tries the car handle, but only once.

It's locked.

her stomach is still growing. It's now taking up her entire lap. It's incredibly obvious how pregnant she is.

Physically, her body never 100% got the memo that the pregnancy was egg based, so she does feel her breasts get heavier and heavier, filling with milk no doubt.

her nipples are finally growing too. Preparing for feeding babies that will never drink from her.

Her ex is looking around now, contemplating if he should call for help. That'd be bad. She really doesn't want to be experimented on or something.

She just wants to lay these eggs in peace.

"Please..." he asks again. On any other guy, this level of persistence would NOT be a good look. But she knows he means well. She knows he's worried about her.

He looks around again, and while he's looking like he's about to go running to beg for medical assistance, her stomach finally, after growing to a size so large she can barely reach around it, finally clenches tight with her first contraction.

When it stops, she looks up and finally meets her ex's eyes. He froze when she clearly contracted, looking like he's feeling her pain with her.

She made a split section decision at that moment and reached up and unlocked the car door. She did her damnedest to scoot over to make room for him to sit beside her.

"Get in and close the door, quickly!" she spat at him in a hushed tone.

He moves quickly, getting in beside her and slamming the door and then re-locking it.

"Okay, what can I do? How can I help? Are you in any pain?"

She is baffled. Why'd she break up with him again? She would be able to recall if her entire mid-section wasn't getting tighter and tighter and oh god-, tighter, tight enough that it starts to hurt, and then it goes even further, it's so tight, so hard, it's squeezing her inside out, it's-....it stops.

"I....you weren't pregnant an hour ago, were you." her ex says flatly. She shakes her head slightly 'no'.

"Is it normal babies?" he continues. She nods 'no' again.

"Okay...uhh...."

"Eggs." She interrupts. "it's eggs."

"Oh!" he exclaims "Well, at least eggs aren't that bi-"

"Emu and ostrich eggs...." She clarifies. He freezes.

"Do-...do you have any idea how many?"

She feels the telltale sensation of her cervix slowly beginning to open around something.

She answers through gritted teeth as her stomach contracts again "uhh...at least a dozen, probably more...."

He looks shocked. He looks around the car. The running car.

"There's barely room back here...how are you going to-....uhh...okay, hold on."

He unlocks the door, and she moans as she tries to protest through the contraction but instead it just devolves into a groan.

He gets out of the back seat, climbs into the front seat, adjusts it for his legs, and re-locks the doors.

"I know you probably can't buckle a seatbelt back there, but I know a place close to here where it'll be really quiet....you'll have room to spread out and be safer there. Can I take you there?"

"oh god.....-" she murmurs as her cervix stretches around her first emu egg, "yes, god, it's happening fast, please...." she doesn't even know what she's begging for.

He puts the car in reverse, and she can tell how carefully he's driving already. Precious cargo and all.

He manages to get out onto the highway, and begins heading out of town. She feels fear for a second, before all her attention is back on her stomach. it's clenched down so hard she can't breathe. It doesn't hurt like it -should- if it was a 'real' non-curse related pregnancy, but it's clenched so -hard-.

He pulls off into a large field, off the main road enough that it's got no eyes on it at all.

"Come on, let me help you" he says as he climbs out of the driver's seat and opens the back door. "Can you walk? It won't have to be far at all, there's just nowhere for you to give birth in that backseat."

She barely nods, and then both her hands hold the sides of her massive stomach as it contracts again, pushing the widest part of the first emu egg into her cervix now.

When it subsides, although moving feels -very- odd, she does manage to step outside. The relief is instant.

She falls into a squat as soon as the car doors close. She can't control it, as soon as there was space, she felt herself squat.

But, oh- pants....

"I, I think I'm pushing, but I-" she babbles. he takes the hint, pulling her pants down gently but very effectively.

"I'm going to pull down your underwear too, okay? Then you can push." --------- part 2 soon if you like my work you can support me at https://ko-fi.com/transforgaytion 

[ink-n-shadow]

(May your day be beautiful and good <3)

HELLO HEAR ME PLEASE!!🗯

JUST GHOST (or Konig cof cof) WHO DISCOVERS THE READER HAS MOVED ON WITHOUT THEM AFTER THEY HAVE BEEN GOING ON A MISSION FOR MONTHS !!

BUT! actually the reader was just tricked into being told their lover had KIA👀

maybe Ghost/Konig will look for reader? Or do they go on without them? :P

the angst? palpable. delectable. i'm obsessed. (hope your day is amazing, anon :3)

MOVING ALONG

𝜗𝜚 the one where after coming home from a mission, König doesn't know that you think he's gone

𝜗𝜚 pairing: könig x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: mentions of death/dying in action, moving on, shitty ending 𝜗𝜚 note: find part two here ⤳ link

The last few months had worn on König—filled with a classified mission for KorTac which forced him to go completely off the grid. No texts, no calls, no emails, no letters, no you. It was isolating—but now he was home. And the first place he went to was your apartment.

When König strolled up to your apartment door, he used the toe of his combat boot to kick up the edge of your front door mat, finding the shiny gold key in its usual space. You had left it there for König specifically, knowing just how often he misplaced his things.

He was about to push the key into the lock when he heard an angry voice behind him.

"Hey—the fuck are you doing?"

König turned to face whoever had spoken to him, glancing down to meet the gaze of a man carrying an armload of groceries. His head tilted to the side for a moment, eyes narrowing over the edge of the balaclava he typically wore when not on mission. He must've not spoken fast enough, because the man came closer with a scowl.

"I said—what the fuck are you doing? Trying to break into my girl's apartment or somethin'?"

His girl? König couldn't help the bitter laugh that fell from his mouth as he took a step back. "Your girl? Uh—apologies, I think there must be a mistake. My girlfriend lives here, her name's—"

"Well she doesn't live here anymore, alright? My girl and I live here now, so give me the key and be on your way, 'kay?" The man held out his hand expectantly, lips pressing into a thin line.

Maybe you had moved since König had last been here. Of course, he wouldn't have known. You hadn't been able to talk for how many months? It had to be 7 or 8. So König relented, handing the gold key over to the man in front of him and holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Alright—sorry again."

But as König was walking away and the man began unlocking the door, he could've sworn he heard your voice from inside.

...

You were sprawled out on the leather couch of your living room, hand holding the TV remote as you flickered through channel upon channel to find something to watch.

You were only broken out of your trance at the sound of the key inside of the lock, turning your head and meeting your boyfriend's eyes with a soft smile. "Hey baby—need help with the groceries or anything?"

"Nah babe, I got it." Your boyfriend mirrored your smile as he moved to the kitchen, placing the bags down on the kitchen island before strolling over to place a kiss on the crown of your head. "The weirdest fucking thing just happened."

You frowned at his words, setting the remote in your lap and scooting over on the couch to make room for your boyfriend to sit down. "Weird? What happened?"

Your boyfriend crashed down on the couch next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his open chest. "Some dude was outside—had the spare key from under the front door rug and everything."

Snuggling deeper into your boyfriend's embrace, your eyebrows pulled taut in the middle as you looked up at him. "What—like he was trying to break in?"

"No, he said his girlfriend lived here." Your boyfriend let out a belly laugh, shaking his head from side to side before sighing softly. "I told him to get the fuck outta here. It was weird—he was a tall fuckin' guy too."

You felt your heart sink into the pit of your stomach, nuzzling your cheek against your boyfriend's collarbone as the pieces of the story began clicking together in your brain. But that story couldn't have been possible—you'd gotten the dreaded letter in the mail months ago. It was still laying in a crumpled, tear-stained ball somewhere in the back of your desk drawer.

König was dead, killed in action, and you knew he was never coming back. KorTac told you he was never coming back. That's why you moved on, found someone new, began rebuilding your broken heart and your life from the ground up. It simply wasn't possible.

"You okay, babe? You've got that look on your face. What're you thinking about?" Your boyfriend pulled you from his chest, hands coming to rest on the swell of your cheeks as he gazed down into your eyes. His face read of concern, but you knew he couldn't tell exactly what was happening inside of your brain.

So you swallowed it down with a soft smile, a shrug of your shoulders, and a swipe of your lips against his. Ever since that letter came in the mail and your life as you knew it had crumbled in the matter of a few words, you had become an expert at shutting your emotions off and putting on a brave face. "Just thinking about dinner. What're you hungry for?"

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[moon-and2saturn]

Head First

j.m.k. x f.reader

part one

a/n: i had an idea for a little josh blurb inspired by this lizzie mcalpine song and i’ve decided to make it into a short series! friends to lovers josh is always my favorite, i hope you guys like it!! the next part will be current day...

summary: You and Josh grew up next door to each other, spending almost your entire life together. He was your closest friend, and that’s how it had always been. One summer, the two of you attend a music festival with your group of friends and a switch seems to flip for him that day, hurling you head first into a weekend of surprises. It feels as though everything has finally fallen into place, but young love is not always meant to last...

word count: 7.9k

warnings: this story contains smut! minors DNI!!! swearing, drinking, flirting, yearning, nicknames, sexually implicit language, heavy petting, kissing; SMUT: oral sex (f. and m. receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, Y'ALL), praise kink if you squint i guess, dirty talk, soft dom! josh, fluff at the end! aftercare always!

JULY 2019

“Guys, seriously, come on. We were supposed to leave over half an hour ago!” you yell from the bottom of the stairs. You get no response, so you scoff, storm up the steep stairs to the hallway, and look around for movement. You see the bathroom door cracked open and walk over to push it open, revealing Josh still fixing his curly hair in the mirror.

You roll your eyes and clear your throat to get his attention, causing him to look over at you. “Oh, hey honey,” he says, giving you a sheepish smile. “Josh, it’s almost 8:30! If we don’t leave now, then we won’t have any time to get ready before we have to go down to the festival! You can fix your hair more when we get to the hotel, please,” you plead, making a praying motion with your hands, and giving him the biggest puppy eyes you can manage.

“Yes yes, I know, I’m sorry. I’ll help you round up the rest of them, okay?” he says, taking one last look in the mirror before turning the light off and heading down to the other end of the hallway. Josh breaks off first to enter his room and find his equally tardy twin, who’s still asleep. You giggle as you hear him yell at his brother to wake up, followed by a loud startled scream from Jake.

You enter Sam’s room to find him lying on his bed scrolling through his phone while Daniel is playing the guitar lightly. “Hello? What are you two doing? Come on, get up, let’s go!” you scold them, making Sam jump out of his seat. Danny chuckles to himself as he gets up to put his guitar back in its case.

They gather their packed bags and file out of the room, heading down the stairs. As you return to the hallway, you see Josh and his seemingly exhausted twin exiting the room. Jake descends the stairs with a groan as Josh follows closely behind him, shooting you a wink before he disappears.

Finally, you all finish packing the car and can finally get on the road. The five of you were heading to the Cosmic Sound Festival down in Detroit, something you and Josh planned months ago. The drive was just under 2 hours, so you were still able to get to the hotel in time to change and get ready before you had to be at the grounds for the first set at 12, or so you hoped. You feel grateful that this break in their tour allowed for you all to go to the festival together, as the time you spent together these days was few and far between.

“I call shotgun!” you shout, hurrying to open the door before one of the others beats you to it. “Hey, that’s not fair, Smalls! You always get shotgun!” Sam yells from behind you.

You roll your eyes and turn around to face him. “Yeah, because why would I ever want to be crammed in the back with you idiots? No, thanks. I’m good up here with Josh,” you reply, sticking your nose up at him and smiling proudly before getting into the car and closing the door. Josh shrugs and laughs lightly before getting into the driver’s side, with the rest of the boys following suit and getting into their seats.

Josh turns the car on and rolls the windows down to feel the cool summer breeze. “Ready, Saph?” he says, turning his head to look at you with a wide, crooked smile. His nickname for you never fails to make you smile. He had that effect on you, as he did with a lot of people. He first gave you the nickname in the fourth grade, after you’d learned about different types of gemstones in science class.

The two of you were walking out of the classroom to go to lunch as you turned to look at Josh. “I think rose quartz might be my favorite. They’re so pretty. Which one was your favorite?” you asked. He thought about it for a moment and said, “Sapphire. They’re so blue, and they’re valuable. Pretty, too.” You nodded and smiled at him, then turned your attention back to walking to the lunchroom.

“You’re like a sapphire, you know,” he continued. You looked back up at him with a questioning look. He pointed and said, “Your eyes, they’re the bluest I’ve ever seen. And pretty. Like a sapphire.” You blushed and looked away, not really knowing what to say. “I think I’ll call you Sapphire,” he said. You looked back up at him and smiled timidly. “Okay.”

The nickname has stuck ever since, though it’s almost always shortened. But it’s just his, and that’s what makes it special. Josh was your best friend in the whole world, as well as your longest friend. The Kiszkas were your next-door neighbors your entire life, and you all became friends practically right away. Being the same age as the twins, your mother would bring you over to their house at a very young age, so the three of you grew up together.

Watching Sam grow up and meeting Danny was something you always felt very thankful for. You had the best group of friends that you could ever ask for, who loved and cared for you like you were their own flesh and blood. You also got to watch as the music they made in their garage late on school nights became something much more.

You spent endless nights lying on the battered old couch in the Kiszkas’ garage as the four of them played together. Jake had always played guitar for as long as you could remember and Josh always loved singing, performing in the school musicals with you every year.

But near the end of high school, you watched as Jake’s dream became their collective dream and they started playing gigs around town and in other close cities. Before you knew it, they would make music that would reach thousands of people and tour places all around the world.

Admittedly, you fear for the day that the band gets even bigger than it is now, knowing that they’ll have to leave you. Your whole life was here in Michigan, and you knew that one day their journey would take them much further than here. You help your father run his business in Frankenmuth now, an old music store, where you sell instruments and sometimes teach lessons when he’s busy. You were needed here, and you knew that the guys wouldn’t be able to stay here forever.

For now, their home was still in Michigan, despite their time being taken up by near-constant touring and writing new music. They were just gone for several months on tour and will be returning to touring at the beginning of fall, so now is the chance to spend time with them.

Josh knew how much you missed them when they were away, so he tried to fill up your time this summer with as many activities as possible. He was always thoughtful in the way he planned things, wanting to get the most out of any experience.

“Ready,” you reply with a smile, plugging your phone in to connect to the aux. You press shuffle on your road trip playlist and Got To Get You Into My Life by the Beatles comes on first. “Ah, perfect!” Josh says, smiling as he starts to sing along and drives out of their driveway, down a long winding road toward Detroit. The five of you spend the whole car ride singing along to your favorite songs, with Jake usually vocalizing every single guitar solo.

*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*༺˚ ⊹♫⊹ ˚༻*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*

Day One

You finally get to the hotel around 10:30, giving you all enough time to get ready before driving to the festival grounds. You got two rooms next to each other, putting Danny and Sam together in one and you and the twins in the other. The room had a pullout couch, which Jake promised he’d stay on since he “barely gets any sleep these days anyway,” and you know that he’ll be out much later than you and Josh will be. He always manages to go off on his own at these types of things.

You throw your things onto one of the beds and then turn to Josh. “Just let me have the bathroom for like twenty minutes and then it’s all yours, okay Diana Ross?” you say, referencing his long, poofy head of hair that goes almost down to his shoulders. He chuckles and flops down on his bed, putting his hands behind his head. “Okay, okay! Whatever, I’ll take some much-needed beauty rest in the meantime,” he says, shutting his eyes as you turn toward your bed, grab your makeup bag and outfit for the day, and then head into the bathroom.

Knowing how hot it was outside this weekend, you decide to wear a pair of short overalls with a burnt orange sports bra underneath to match your Converse of the same color. You pull your hair half up, putting that half-section of hair into a messy bun and pulling out some front pieces to frame your face.

With your hair done and out of your face, you just apply a base of makeup and use setting spray so that you don’t sweat it off. You place your aviator sunglasses on the top of your head and then exit the bathroom. “All yours,” you say, going to sit on the edge of your bed and plug your phone in to charge until it’s time to leave.

With your back turned, you can’t see the way that Josh is looking at you. As always, you were oblivious to it. He gets up from the bed and grabs his clothes, and as he walks over to the bathroom he turns around to look back at you.

You’re just sitting there, scrolling away on your phone, but he stands there for a moment to admire you; the way your eyelashes curl upward, the way your long hair lays down your back, the way the bare skin of your torso peaks through in your overalls. He sighs to himself quietly, then turns around and goes into the bathroom.

Jake didn’t need to use the bathroom, he was already dressed and ready to go in a short-sleeved button-down shirt (half-unbuttoned), jeans, and light brown Chelsea boots. You couldn’t imagine how that would be comfortable for a festival, but Jake’s fashion always eluded you.

Next thing you know, Josh emerges from the bathroom, hair all “fixed.” He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt with a burnt orange bandana, accidentally matching you, and some khaki shorts and white sneakers. You look up at him and smile, and he says, “Okay! Let’s rock and roll!”

The three of you go next door to collect Sam and Danny, who are thankfully ready to go. Sam pulled his long hair into a low bun and threw on a loose long-sleeve button-down with the sleeves rolled up paired with shorts, contrasting Danny in his band tee and skinny jeans, who has also pulled his hair back.

You all head down to the car and drive over to the festival, planning to try and get there early to watch Tame Impala’s set at 4 PM- Jake’s idea of course. The 1975 will go on at the same stage at 8 PM, which is what you’re looking forward to more. The main event, however, will be Hozier tomorrow night, which is something you’re all anticipating. You’ll also go to see Tyler Childers tomorrow afternoon before Hozier’s set, at Josh’s request.

Jake, Sam, and Danny want to be close to the front for Tame Impala’s set, so they rush to the front to save a spot while you and Josh go to find the alcohol. You walk ahead of Josh, trying to weave in and out of the crowd to find the booth, holding his hand tightly behind you to stay together. As always, with your back turned you can’t see the pink hue that has graced his cheeks at the feeling of your hand tight in his.

Finally, you approach the table and get in line. As Josh meets you at your side, he squeezes your hand tightly before dropping it and combing his fingers through his hair. Your face softens as you look at him for a moment before turning to look around you. The line isn’t too terribly long, luckily, since you both desired to be far more intoxicated.

“God, it’s hot, huh?” you say, reaching behind you to pull your hair off of your neck and wipe off the sweat. Josh nods and wipes some droplets of sweat off of his forehead. “Yeah, it’s not ideal, is it? We’ll make do though, I’m sure. We always do,” he says with a smile, always the optimist. You reach the front of the line shortly and order two Bud Lights, three black cherry White Claws, and five bottles of water, and then turn to head back to the main stage. They gave you bags, thank god, since you wouldn’t possibly be able to carry all of those drinks back by yourselves.

“Still feeling hot?” Josh asks with a smirk as he walks next to you with the bag of water bottles in his hand. You nod and before you can react, he giggles as he takes one of the bottles out of the bag and shoves it into your bare side, causing you to scream from the cold touch. You shove him away from you and yell, “Josh! What the hell is wrong with you? That was so cold!”

He’s cracking up as he comes back close to you and snakes his arm around you, pulling you into him. “Sorry, Saph. You said you were hot! A gentleman is meant to help a lady in need, is he not?” You roll your eyes and then lean into him. “You’re such an idiot,” you scoff. “Your idiot,” he replies with a smile.

*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*༺˚ ⊹♫⊹ ˚༻*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*

You finally make it back to the guys, who have found a spot a few rows back from the barricade. You hand everyone their drinks and point to Danny and Sam with a stern finger. “You’re both lucky I bought these for you. Behave yourselves, if you get caught I don’t want to go down with you,” you say as they both laugh and take a sip of their drinks.

You all hang out and listen to the set of one of the smaller artists who’s playing on the stage now, just vibing to the music. It didn’t matter if any of you knew who it was or what they were playing, it was just fun to be there together. You smiled and danced by yourself to the songs, in your own world. Josh is to your right, the two of you are standing just behind the others as you’d gotten there later. He looks over at you with a content smile as he watches you enjoy yourself, appreciating how lucky he feels to be there in that moment.

You feel his eyes on you this time, however. You turn your head to look at him and a smile grows across your face as you lock eyes with him. “What?” you ask, turning to face him. “Nothing, darling. Just you,” he answers, looking down at you. “Just me? What about me?”

He reaches down to brush some hair out of your face. “All of you. I just feel very grateful to be here with you, Saph.” Your cheeks flush as you look up at him with a shy smile. There’s some conflict in his eyes and you can tell that he wants to say more, but he doesn’t.

You reach up to wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a tight hug, breathing him in. You feel him sigh into your neck and put his arms around your waist as you squeeze him tightly and then pull away, his arms still around you. When you look up into his eyes at that moment, there’s a feeling there that you don’t recognize, a strong force pulling you toward him. You find yourself not wanting to let go, feeling this innate need to be close to him. It almost feels out of control. You’re not sure what triggered it or what you’re meant to do, but you plan to find out.

The set ends and people file out of the pit slowly. You have some time before the 1975’s set, and even though you don’t want to lose your spot, you need a break. Jake and Sam split off and say that they’re going to go to the Strokes set in an hour, so they head to another stage. Danny opts to stay for the 1975 set with you and Josh and says he’ll hold the spot if you and Josh take a break and go get food and water.

The two of you go to find a food truck to get something to eat, struggling to make your way through the crowd. As you approach the field where all the food trucks are, you look to your left and exclaim, “Oh my god, look! They have a big water sprinkler! C’mon Josh, let’s go let’s go!”

You grab his hand and pull him after you toward the sprinkler, where dozens of other people are cooling off in the cold water. You run under the water and turn around to face him, giggling and pulling him under with you. He smiles wide as the water hits his head, drenching his hair and causing it to lay long and flat on his shoulders. He shuts his eyes tight as it soaks him and his white shirt becomes completely damp, causing it to stick tight to his skin.

Your hair is wet and sticking to your cheeks and you know your overalls will be wet all night, considering jean materials never dry quickly, but you don’t care. The cool water feels so good on your skin after such a long day as you lean your head back and soak it all in.

You look over at Josh, smiling from ear to ear and you stop to admire how honestly beautiful he looks like this. He slicked his wet hair to lay down his back and you watch as little droplets of water drip onto his cheeks from his thick eyebrows. You can see hints of his abdominal muscles thanks to the tightness of his wet t-shirt and you’d be lying if you said that your eyes didn’t linger there.

You pull him into you, wrapping your arms around his waist. Your wet clothes are sticking tight to both of you- a slightly uncomfortable feeling but welcomed for the experience to cool down. “Your shirt is wet,” you state matter-of-factly, giggling as you pull back a bit to look at him. “Really? You’re kidding,” he laughs, reaching his hands down to swipe the wet hair off of your face.

You sigh and look up at him with a grin. “Hungry?” you ask. “Starved,” he says. He looks down at you for a moment, his eyes drift to your lips for a second and linger there before traveling up to meet your gaze, the look on his face much more serious than you were ever used to. You take a deep breath, the moment starting to feel a bit more intimate than you’d anticipated. “Let’s go get some walking tacos!” you say, leaving the sprinkler and heading toward the food trucks.

Josh sheds his shirt off as you walk, needed to squeeze the water out and let it dry in the sun for a bit. You’ve seen him shirtless your whole life, you should be used to it by now, but you have to admit that it felt different this time. You let yourself stare a bit too long at the way his wet chest shimmers in the light of the sun, realizing that you need to snap out of it and stop getting distracted.

You and Josh grab your walking tacos, saving one for Danny and grabbing a few more bottles of water, then start the trek back to the stage. You both decide to eat a bit as you walk, being so hungry that you can’t wait until you get back. As you walk, Josh drops a bit of ground beef onto his bare chest and you erupt into laughter.

“Here, let me get it,” you manage to get out through laughs. You both stop walking and you take a napkin out of the bag and then bring it to his chest. You wipe a bit from his chest and then notice a bit of sauce further down toward his belly button.

You reach down and wipe that as well, hearing his breath catch a bit at the feeling of your hand there. Your eyes shoot up to his face, which is now a light shade of pink. Your lips turn up slightly into a subtle smile and you say, “There. All better.” You take your hand away and watch him finally breathe out, then turn away and start walking again. Interesting.

*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*༺˚ ⊹♫⊹ ˚༻*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*

You reach Daniel back at your spot by the stage and hand him his food. “What happened to you guys? You’re soaking wet,” he asks. “We found a water sprinkler. Felt great,” you answer with a smile. He shrugs and starts eating his food and the three of you hang out until it’s time for the band to come on. Josh slips his shirt back on, which is now significantly less damp.

The 1975 comes on stage as the sun starts to go down, cooling the air down considerably. You’re having so much fun dancing around with your best friends and there’s truly nowhere else you’d rather be. You and Danny sing along to every song as Josh watches and dances along, not really knowing the songs but having fun, nonetheless.

The band closes out the set with your favorite song, Sex. You scream as the song starts and jump around with a wide smile on your face, taking Josh’s hand in yours. He jumps with you, watching you instead of the show as you jump around grinning ear to ear, singing along.

When they get to the third verse, however, Josh can’t take his eyes off of you. The way you’re dancing and singing to a song with these kinds of lyrics is doing something to him that he didn’t expect.

Now we're just outside of town,

And you're making your way down

And I'm not trying to stop you, love,

If we're gonna do anything, we might as well just fuck

You sing along to the song as you take his hands in yours and dance with him. His eyes are piercing through you as he studies you, but you don’t notice with all the excitement. As the chorus starts, he pulls you in and twirls you around, smiling down at you.

You sway with him as the chorus continues and the song ends, much closer than you’d expected to be with your chests touching. As the crowd erupts into applause, you find yourself getting lost in his eyes for a moment. He’s looking down at you, his breath a bit heavy from the dancing, trying to get a glimpse of what’s going on inside your mind.

Before you can say anything, Danny turns around to you guys and says “Well, time to go,” then starts heading toward the exit. You snap back into reality at that moment, releasing your hold on Josh and stepping back a bit, then following after Danny. Josh follows closely behind.

The three of you head back to the hotel after getting a text that Jake and Sam planned to go to a bar down the street from where you’re staying before returning. They say they’ll meet you at the hotel, so you leave without them. When you arrive, you split off from Daniel at his room and then you and Josh head into yours.

You go into the bathroom to put on a tank top and a pair of sweatshorts then wash your face and pull your hair back into a low ponytail. You open the bathroom door and see that Josh has already changed, having thrown on a pair of sweatpants and opting to go without a shirt. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, reading something on his phone, and looks up as he hears you come out.

He watches you as you walk toward your bed and sit down there across from him. He seems a bit deep in thought, his face not as lit up as usual. “Tired?” you ask, bringing your legs up onto the bed and leaning to your left arm onto the pillow. “Yeah, something like that,” he says, giving you a half smile. He goes to lie down but still faces your direction, and you do the same, just looking at him for a moment before finally speaking again.

“Hey, Josh?” you say, looking at him across the chasm between your beds.

“Yeah, Saph?” he answers.

“I miss you a lot when you’re gone.”

“I know, darling. We miss you too, always.”

“I mean just you. Not that I don’t miss the others too, but… You make everything better, Josh. Everything feels so much easier when you’re here,” you confess, meeting his gaze with a soft smile.

“Everything is easier with you there, too. It’s like you add air to my lungs. You walk into a room and it’s like a breath of fresh air,” he answers, smiling back at you.

Your face drops a little bit and you want to say more, but before you get the chance, you hear the door as Jake waltzes in, drunk off his ass. “Oh. You’re still up,” he slurs out, then flops down onto the bed he’s made on the couch.

Josh leans up to turn the lamp off and looks over at you. “Goodnight, honey,” he says, turning the switch. “Goodnight.”

*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*༺˚ ⊹♫⊹ ˚༻*:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:**:·.·:*

Day Two

The hotel alarm clock goes off at 9 AM, bright and early. You rub your eyes and sit up in your bed as you hear groans from the other side of the room. “Oi! Turn that shit off!” Jake hollers from the couch. You chuckle as you turn off the alarm and get up to start getting ready.

Josh is still sleeping peacefully, having not heard the alarm at all. He snores lightly as you walk over to his bed and bring your hand down to his head, brushing his hair back out of his face and then shaking his shoulder softly.

“Come on, honey. Time to get up,” you say as his eyes flutter open and land on you, causing him to give you a sleepy, toothless grin. “Morning, Saph,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he sits up in bed. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Long day ahead of us,” you reply, heading into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

You pull your hair back into a loose French braid down your back and then wash your face and apply some base makeup once again. You put on a small sky-blue cropped tank top and black biker shorts, then open the bathroom door and walk back into the room.

Considering you were spending the weekend with four men, you knew they wouldn’t be changing their outfits that much. Josh had subbed out his white t-shirt for a black one of the same kind, wearing similar-looking shorts. Jake wore a Guns n Roses t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a darker pair of jeans.

You sit down on the edge of your bed across from Josh and tie on your Converse. “I quite like how you styled your hair,” Josh says, looking over at you. “Beautiful.” You take your attention away from your shoes to look at him, trying to make sure you heard him right. He’s looking at you in such adoration, it’s hard for you to understand.

You smile shyly and blush a bit as your eyes lock with his before turning your attention back to your shoes. “Thank you, Josh…” you mumble, not sure how to react, especially with Jake in the room. His presence becomes especially apart when you hear him chuckle to himself behind you at his brother’s attempt at flattery. Josh scoffs and then stands up and walks toward the door. “Shall we?” he says, opening the door. The three of you file out and meet up with Sam and Danny and then go to the car once again.

When you arrive at the grounds, you all get drinks together and have a round or two before Tyler Childers’ set at 3 PM. You didn’t know much of his music, but Josh really liked him and you were tipsy enough not to worry about it too much. The five of you had a spot closer to the barricade this time since you’d gotten there early enough, so you had a great view of the stage.

Josh enjoyed the set, smiling and grooving to the music. The songs were folky and country, which made it quite easy to dance along and enjoy it. You watched Josh as he blissfully watched the show, unaware of how truly content he looked and how it made you feel. You couldn’t help but smile as you studied him, admiring how much kindness and beauty exuded from his soul.

You looked at how his curls looked as the summer breeze blew lightly. You watched how his eyes squinted as he smiled wider and sang along. You observed how his lips looked- full, pink, and warm. You admired his hands as they were wrapped around his torso, almost like he was hugging himself. You couldn’t look away even if you tried. He was an enigma.

There was a particular song at the end of the set that really sparked something in him, All Your’n. When it started, Josh took his gaze away from the performance to look at you with a grin. He wrapped his arm around you, his hand gripping your right shoulder softly as he leaned his head to the side on top of yours and sang along to the song.

So I'll love ya 'til my lungs give out

I ain't lying

I'm all your'n and you're all mine

You smile as you dance with him to his favorite song. Seeing him happy was all you needed in the world, and you’d do anything to be the one contributing to it. Your face flushes as you feel him place a soft kiss on the top of your head and then nestle his head on your shoulder, swaying as the song comes to an end. At that moment, there was nowhere you’d rather be. You knew you’d do anything to experience this feeling every day, for the rest of your life.

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The five of you went to the other side of the grounds to eat a quick dinner before returning to your spot by the stage. As you ate, your mind was clouded with only thoughts of Josh and how different things felt. Of course, you’ve always felt a deep connection with him, a bond that could never be broken. You loved him, but the context of that love felt different now.

You’re unsure if it was the recent distance due to their tour or just that the two of you were growing up but after today, your love for him has seemed to turn into adoration. Being with him felt like a piece of you had been returned to you, as though you were only truly whole when he was by your side. His presence felt like breathing fresh air into your lungs after being submerged under water. You understand now what it means, and you think he does too.

Soon, it’s time to get back for Hozier’s set, what you’d all been waiting for. All of the guys were a fan of his, but none of them were nearly as big of a fan as you were. Every song felt like it reflected your soul and your heart in a way that no other music does.

The set begins and you know every song, of course. He plays all of his hits, one of your favorites being Jackie and Wilson. As he sings the song, you’re dancing around and pull Josh in to dance with you. You take his hands in yours and sway with him, jumping around with the largest grin imaginable spread across your face. He’s smiling back down at you and laughing as he lets you maneuver him in whatever way you want to. He even twirls you around a few times, making you giggle.

The mood switches as Hozier begins to play Work Song, which is one that has always resonated with you. You keep Josh’s hand in yours as you watch and sing along. You feel him give your hand a tight squeeze, causing you to look up at him. He gives you a closed-lip smile as he looks down at you, his eyes lingering on your lips for a moment.

There’s nothing sweeter than my baby

I’d never want from the cherry tree

‘Cause my baby’s sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin’ me

The other guys were standing in front of you and despite the crowd of people behind you, you suddenly felt alone there in that moment, eyes never straying from each other’s gaze. Your expression softens as you turn your body to face him and he wraps his arm around your waist and lowers his head to press his forehead to yours. You shut your eyes and take a deep breath as the song continues, swaying with him.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I’ll crawl home to her

You open your eyes and meet his, breathing heavily from the heat of the crowd as well as the tension. You start to overthink the entire situation but before you’re able to voice your thoughts, Josh finally brings his lips to yours. Your entire body relaxes in his arms as he pulls you closer to him. It feels as though he’s put the air back into your lungs, like you’ve been living your whole life without something that you know now that you could never live without.

You bring your hands up the back of his neck as you deepen the kiss. You grip his hair at the nape of his neck lightly, eliciting a quiet groan from Josh. He nips your bottom lip and you giggle as you finally pull away, his arms still holding you. It’s almost like the rest of the world disappeared in that moment, you heard the song playing on but you didn’t even notice.

The set ends and you quickly let go of each other before the others turn around to face you. Something you can’t hide, however, is the pink hue on both of your cheeks and swollen lips, which slightly gives you away.

“Ready to go? I could sleep for a day, it feels like,” Danny says, starting to head out toward the exit. You all start to walk out as Jake elbows his twin, chuckling and whispering, “Feeling okay there, brother? You’re looking a little… flushed.”

Josh rolls his eyes and walks a bit faster as he mutters, “Yes, Jake, I’m perfectly fine,” and takes your hand to drag you with him. You laugh as you follow closely behind him to the car and he drives the five of you back to the hotel for the night.

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You all arrive back at the hotel and as you get out of the car, Jake says, “You guys wanna go find somewhere to have a few pints?” Danny and Sam all answer in agreement, but Josh shakes his head. You look at him for a moment and meet his eyes. “Yeah, I think Josh and I might stay back, if that’s okay. It’s been a long couple of days,” you say, looking back at the guys with a shy smile.

Jake chuckles to himself. “Okay then, suit yourself. If you’re so tired, then I won’t come in late and wake you. I’ll stay with Sam and Daniel,” he answers with a wink to Josh. Damn these twins, you can’t get anything past them. Josh sighs and says okay before turning to head inside the hotel. You follow him up, beginning to feel a bit nervous.

Josh opens the door to your room and you both walk inside, closing the door behind you. When the door is finally shut, Josh turns around to face you. Before you can say anything, his lips find yours once again. You sigh into his mouth as he pushes you up against the door, his hands holding your waist tightly.

Your hands find their place around his neck as he deepens the kiss, his hands traveling from your waist to the swells of your ass. “Fuck,” you gasp under your breath, the feeling of his hands on you becoming almost too much to handle. That’s when he uses his grip to lift you and wrap your legs around his waist, bringing you over to your bed and laying you down.

He stands at the edge of the bed and removes his t-shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift movement. You take that moment to remove your own, sitting up on your elbows for a moment as you take it off and then pull your sports bra over your head.

Josh looks down to admire you for a moment before leaning over you, still standing but kneeling one leg slightly on the bed. He pulls you in for a kiss with one hand cupping your cheek as he reaches the other down to grasp your breast, kneading it softly with his fingers and groaning quietly into your mouth.

“Saph, you are so beautiful. Sculpted by God himself,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “Josh…” you start, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. “Shhh,” he whispers, bringing his finger to your lips. “We can discuss it later. Right now, I just need to feel you… gotta make sure that this isn’t some sort of dream.”

He leans back away from you to lower himself to the floor and then starts pulling down the waistband of your shorts. Leaning up on your elbows, you watch as he pulls your shorts down, agonizingly slow. He brings his hands down to pull them down over the curves of your ass when he notices that you’d opted to go without any underwear today. He kisses your inner thigh with a low moan and then looks up at you and says, “No panties? Dirty girl…”

He helps you out of your shorts the rest of the way then reaches up to grasp your ass cheeks, causing you to spread your legs for him. “So perfect,” he mutters, reaching one hand down to run his fingers through your folds. “Is this all for me, baby?” he asks, looking up at you with his eyes dark with lust.

“All for you, Josh. Only you,” you nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers right where you’ve longed for them to be. “Lucky me…” he whispers before lowering his mouth down to your aching core. He licks into you like a man starved, lapping up the wetness at your folds before wrapping his lips tightly around your clit, making you whine and lean your head back.

He inserts one finger inside you, causing you to moan again, and then removes his mouth from you to speak. “Look at me, baby. Wanna see how angelic you look when I bring you over the edge.” You look down at him and he curls his finger inside of you before adding another one. He attaches his lips back onto you, sucking lightly as he curls his fingers inside of you, eliciting all kinds of lude noises from your mouth, which was exactly what he wanted.

“God, Josh. Fuck, I’m so close,” you whine, gripping the comforter of the bed tightly as you continue to look down at him. “Give it to me, angel. Want it so bad, do it,” he says against your clit with a groan, quickening his movements. You finally feel the band snap inside you and call out his name as he works you through it, taking his mouth off of you and slowing his fingers inside of you.

He kisses your inner thigh again before bringing his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your release off of them. “Mmm, fuck. You taste like heaven, my love. I fear I might get addicted,” he says, standing up to remove his shorts along with his boxers, stepping out of them, and then leaning back down to kiss you. He licks into your mouth and holds the back of your head steadily as you bring your hand down to stroke him lightly.

He groans against you and ruts his hips into your hand and you quicken your pace and then lean up to push him off of you. “My turn,” you say with a smirk, pushing him down onto the bed to lay with his head on the pillow. He looks up at you as the corners of his mouth turn into a smile and you crawl up toward him, taking his hardened length into your hand.

You bend down and swirl the tip with your tongue, then take it into your mouth. You work your mouth down onto it slowly until your nose touches the happy trail on his lower abdomen. You’re met with a long groan from Josh as he leans his head back onto the headboard with one of his hands gripping your hair lightly.

You continue to bob your head along his length, occasionally stopping to gag on it for a few moments at the hilt, causing him to sputter out various expletives. Before it gets too far, he goes to pull your head off of him with a groan. “Baby, if you keep going like that, I’m not gonna make it long enough to feel what this divine pussy feels like wrapped around me.” You blush at his direct language, something you’re still not used to hearing from him.

“You want me, Josh? Wanna feel me?” you tease, crawling up to straddle him, feeling his dick flush against your soaked folds. You reach down and put your hands around his neck, gripping his hair as you lean closer to him. “I need it, Saph. Haven’t been able to think about anything else all night besides how good it would feel to be inside you,” he whispers, holding your hips so tightly that you know it would leave a bruise.

You don’t need to hear anything else before you bring a hand down to grip his length and lift your hips to lower yourself down onto him. He grips your sides tighter as you make your way slowly to the hilt, adjusting to the size. He leans his head back with a groan as you finally lift your hips up and then back down.

He leans up to capture your lips with his and moans into your mouth as you grind repeatedly down onto him. “God, baby. Feels so good. So perfect for me,” he mutters, gripping you tightly as he starts to thrust up into you quickly, causing you to whine and try to steady yourself on the bed.

It feels unlike any other man you’ve ever been with. Not only do you feel safe and loved by someone you trust the most, but it feels like everything has finally fallen into place. The two of you were destined and your intimacy now only proves it further. You were meant to be his.

Josh flips you over onto your back and re-enters you, bringing his hand up to hold the back of your neck and kiss you passionately. His tongue slips past your lips as his other hand grips your hip and he thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting the same spot that drives you wild. “That’s it, honey, that’s it,” he whispers, bringing his hand from your hip to rub circles around your clit as he lowers his mouth to attach to one of your hardened nipples.

You moan at the overstimulating feeling of his mouth on you combined with his quick movements on your clit and throw your head back against the headboard. “Fuck, Josh, don’t stop I’m-” you mumble as he removes his mouth from you to interrupt you. “I know, baby, I’m right there with you. Let me have it.”

That’s all you need to hear before reaching your second orgasm, and Josh is not far behind you. He brings his mouth to yours as he finally releases inside of you, slowing his thrusts as he fucks it back into you until he stills his movements entirely. He brings his hand to caress your cheek and looks down at you with a wide smile, his cheeks flushed and rosy.

“Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back, baby,” he says, pulling out of you slowly and then padding off toward the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth and a small cup of water, setting it down on the side table and then sitting down at the edge of the bed next to you. He cleans you up delicately, almost pampering you, and then reaches up to move some of your hair from in front of your eyes.

“So beautiful. I’m still not sure how I got so lucky,” he says, smiling down at you. You sit up a bit and kiss his lips sweetly, then lean your forehead against his. “I love you, Josh.”

“I love you too, my Sapphire. More than words, and you know I’m not usually speechless… You’re everything to me, Y/N,” he answers, rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

You both slip on some comfier clothes to sleep in, just in case Jake decides to come back in the morning. He then turns the lamp off then climbs into your bed with you, laying on his side to face you. You turn to face him as well, looking into his eyes silently for a moment.

“I’m not sure what I’d do without you, Josh. You’re my world, more than you know,” you admit.

“I know, my love. You’ll never have to find out. I’ll always be yours. Always,” he answers, bringing his hand down to stroke your hair affectionately. The two of you drift off to sleep in each other’s arms, where you were always meant to be.

Or so you thought. One can never predict where the road may take you… What seems to be love at one point can turn into nothing within a moment’s notice. Nothing lasts forever, despite all efforts to fight it. But love doesn’t always fade away entirely, does it?

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part two

[captainseamech]

Semi-Hiatus notice || Dec 28th — Undefined

//I know I have a lot of things to be done across all my blogs, but recently I've come to a chain of events that absolutely devastated me these last days that I'll clear it off with you guys right now because I want to be as clear as crystal.

Not only my Christmas' Eve — or better saying, the past month — was very stressful because we were expected to receive our relatives on the 25th (of which they didn't come), but I'm trying to find a way to work on blog stuff through my mental health downspine given than things around my house kept breaking at the worst time ever possible. To add it to the situation, at around 4am of 28th, a robber hijacked the electrical wires of my entire house (we have a term for those in my country of which I can't think of a better translation for as of right now) and managed to successfully escape even with, like, 8 cops around the area (he fled from the rooftop of different houses.)

Thankfully he left the bag with our wires behind, but since my house is old as hell the wires are equally old too and in a pitiful state. We have been stressing thought this all morning but thankfully my brother managed to get a trustworthy contact with an electrician to see if we could have electricity back and he managed to restore most of it during the 4 hours of work he spent. I didn't get to know most of the details because I was so tired and fell asleep but according to fam we only have a temporary fix to our problem since not everything around the house is back to 100% functionality, but it was something at least because we wouldn't find any better fix this close to the end of the year.

To make it worse we are now forming plans on how much money we are to spend with wiring restore and we are now HEAVILY paranoid that the robber might come back to either try and steal our shit again or to search for whatever he left behind (which is nothing since the police confiscated everything) and we also have our suspicions on who could've got those because our house was never likely to get robbed with us here.

I'm sorry I yapped for too much but all of this is to clarify that I will grow tired and way more stressed thanks to the tension, insecurity and admitted paranoia of him coming back to mess our shit up. I was already a night owl before but now I might trade my sleep schedule to happen during the day, which will pack a punch on my already messed up writing spikes.

I'm admitting it as a semi hiatus because I might still pop in here on mobile and even try to format threads in here (I've done that for a while when I had my own phone but since I'm sharing one with gramps it's not as common anymore) to get myself distracted at times.

As for the asks in this blog, I'm still thinking on whether or not should I close the inbox in hopes of catching up. But I'll reply to all of them or either delete most of it all together, that is still under thought. All I ask is for your patience again as I go through all of this.

Thank you in advance and I'm sorry.

[goodgirlofglory]

In the balance - Chapter 9: the world in the balance

Chapter 8

/Masterpost/

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 6,1k

Warnings: non-con (series), dub-con (series), descriptions of ptsd symptoms, panic attacks, descriptions and references to past psychological, sexual and physical abuse

Summary: your world is suddenly turned on it’s head when Steve leaves you in the care of his best friend to go hunt your attackers down. You just have to get through it until Steve returns, but that can prove difficult when Bucky starts to prod into you and Steve’s relationship...

Note: First of all, it’s been a year since i last updated this story and it’s been a bitch. I'm starting to see the ending approach though, which is great cuz im looking forward to write it🥰 For those of you who have been consistently commenting on how you were looking forward to the next chapter - THANK YOU! You guys kept me going<333 Hope you enjoy🦋

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you not to interact if the contents of the warnings upset you!

Minors DO NOT INTERACT!🚫

Reblogs, likes, replies and asks are amazing💖

You stared out of the floor to ceiling window, vertigo sloshing in the back of your head as you peered down at the gridwork of roads and flashing lights, the cars and people looking like ants from all the way up here in the clouds. You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, fighting the nausea down.

A broad hand suddenly clasped around the back of your neck and you jolted.

“Whoah there, it’s just me,” Steve said as he gave your neck an affectionate squeeze. He stepped up behind you and wrapped you in his arms, his big, warm hands sliding down to stroke lovingly over your swollen belly. It was getting heavier for each day that passed, and the kid was getting more restless along with it. You leaned your head back against his chest, closing your eyes as he swayed you from side to side.

- a flash of light in the dark, cold marble under your bare feet, a sickening crunch. So much blood -

Your eyes shot open and you heaved for breath, suddenly choking on air.

“Whoah there, it’s alright,” Steve said, turning you around and putting his hands on your shoulders while bending down to catch your eyes. “I know this is a big change, and we both would rather be back home, but it’s not safe there anymore. Remember I told you that, buttercup? Not like up here. The building is heavily secured and no helicopter could sneak in - the city has a million eyes. You’re safe here, sweetheart, there’s no need to worry that pretty, little head. I’m gonna keep you safe like I always have,” he said, repeating what he’d been telling you over the last 24 hours as you’d moved across the country.

A penthouse in the middle of Manhattan, New York City. 8,4 million people right below you, crawling underfoot while you swayed up in the clouds, 1300 feet up in the air. Your worst nightmare a couple of months ago. Now, you didn’t really know how to feel. You were so tired, and confused. Your memories of that horrible night were blurry blotches, and you fought between not wanting to remember all those atrocious images of blood splattering and bones breaking, and feeling so panicky over the black spots in your recollection it made your head all loopy.

“Besides, Bucky will be here with you, to keep you safe until I return to you,” Steve continued, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek softly.

That’s right, Steve was leaving. After everything that had happened, Steve was leaving, almost right this second. To catch the guys that were behind the attack on the mansion and see that they’re put away, all so I can get back to you and the baby before it’s born, he’d said when you’d hidden your face in his chest and sobbed uncontrollably at him breaking the news of his departure.

You supposed you understood. He wanted the bad men in jail by the time you went into labor, so he could be with you from then on without worrying for your safety. You got the logic of it, it was now or never. It still terrified you. You needed Steve, and just when everything was going so well between you, he was leaving you. All alone in this huge, fancy penthouse in a city with millions of people. Okay, you knew you were being irrational and naggy and ungrateful. Steve had gotten you the most secure, safe and luxurious residence he could after the mansion, perhaps even more secure, under the ever watchful gaze of the city, breaking in would be even more difficult. Besides, Steve had apparently been their primary target that night, not you. So if he was out there hunting them hunting him, the target was off your back, collateral or not. Plus, Steve was leaving Bucky here for you.

Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. There is no one in this world I trust more than him. He's the only one besides myself I would entrust with your safety. An old friend, the polar opposite of Steve. Scruffy where Steve was cleanly groomed, broody where Steve was charming, quiet where Steve knew the perfect things to say. You'd barely even spoken a word to Bucky, and he always seemed to have this glare directed your way, scrutinizing your every move with cold eyes under a heavy brow. Neither of you had seemed particularly pleased with the arrangement, but Steve had assured you Bucky was the sweetest, most nobel man out there, and that he would do this for you and Steve - no questions asked. Didn’t change the trickle of ice that ran down your spine at the way Bucky assessed you, the coldness in his stare, and the way it put you on edge.

So Steve was leaving, and you were to be alone in this strange, new home with a man you didn’t know. And you were seven and a half months pregnant. With Steve’s super enhanced baby. If you weren’t so sure of the baby’s strength, you’d worry about an early labor from all the duress you’d been under these last few days…

Steve pulled you into his arms, careful not to squish your belly too hard, and kissed the top of your head while stroking a soothing hand up and down your back. You needed his touch so bad, had become so addicted to his constant physical connection, you were already dreading the withdrawals when he left. You already felt lonely.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured into your hair, tilting your head back to tenderly kiss your lips. “You be a good girl for me, and treat Bucky like this is his home too,” he murmured against your lips, making you shiver. It had been days since he’d fucked you, you hadn’t had any time alone between moving residence and him planning whatever mission he was going on with his organisation. You were aching for him, body and soul, and weren’t ready for him to go. You weren’t ready…

But he left either way.

And then you were at a complete loss. What were you supposed to do in a penthouse all day without Steve? You couldn’t take walks like on the vast lawns of the mansion with the soft, perpetually green grass under your bare feet. The penthouse was huge, sure, and two stories, with several enormous bedrooms with private bathrooms and a sitting area on the second floor and big kitchen and way too big living room on the first, along with a personal spa, a private cinema, guest rooms, personal gym and more bathrooms. Nearly the whole apartment had floor to ceiling windows, making your slight vertigo a constant with how the looming, chaotic city below and endless sky above. And you, floating in the middle. Your only option was to go down all those levels and walk in the city. Could you even do that?

A knock on the door had you slowly emerging from your thoughts, sitting on the edge of your new bed in your new bedroom, the sheets unrumpled and made up exactly like a hotel. How long had it been since Steve left? Five minutes? Five hours? You turned around to see Bucky standing in the opening of the cracked open door, shoulders almost as broad as the doorway.

“I’ve prepared some food for you,” he said, leveling you a very evaluating stare you tried not to shrink under.

Food. You had no appetite, your stomach full of dark, messy feelings and a restless baby. But you always ate when Steve prepared your meals nowadays, so you should probably do it when Bucky did too. You gave a little nod, and the brunette didn’t wait around for you to walk together down to the first floor of the penthouse.

Down in the kitchen, the aroma of creamy sauce and garlic filled your nose, and you tried opting for a seat at the kitchen island before realizing you just couldn’t get up with your belly. Bucky was loading up plates by the stove, and turned in time to see you wobble on your feet as you tried hiking yourself on the high bar stool. Your cheeks were hot with mild embarrassment as you instead opted for the dining table right next to the kitchen, sighing in relief as you got the weight off your bloated feet. They were already starting to hurt like hell, and Steve hadn’t been gone even a day yet.

Bucky appeared a moment later and put a dish down next to you. Pasta with mushrooms of some kind, a cheesy cream sauce and small pieces of bacon. The aroma was mouth watering. Bucky took the seat across the table from you as you picked up the utensils and started eating. You could scarcely stop the moan escaping you as you took your first mouthful.

“This is delicious,” you said between the next bite and the one after, already shuffling the food into yourself in a rather unmannered way. It took you a while to realize Bucky had neither answered you, nor moved a muscle, his own steaming dish of pasta untouched before him. A ping of unease flared to life inside you.

You looked up to meet his gaze and nearly winced at how cold his eyes were, pinning you with a look that could only be described as scrutiny. Your muscles seized, a premonition blooming. That wasn’t the look you expected, and definitely one that you liked.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“W-what?” you answered after nearly choking on your food. You’d introduced yourself only a few days ago, had he forgotten? How did the room suddenly feel colder, Bucky’s cool, steel eyes raising goosebumps along your skin in a flair of nerves.

“Who do you work for?” he asked.

“I…I don’t have a job anymore, Steve, um… I quit,” you answered, confused, trying not to focus on how you’d gotten out of your last job at that local yarn and handicraft store in your hometown.

“There is no point in feigning innocence here, I’ll get your file any minute now,” he said, and that threw you for a loop before your unease doubled. Your breath was speeding up, getting choppy.

“You’re running background checks on m-me?” you asked. What the hell was he suspecting you of doing? You hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, couldn’t remember having done anything wrong.

Bucky didn’t answer your question, just sat there while his meal turned cold.

“If you have anything to confess, I suggest you do it now, before I get the intel,” he warned you instead.

Your heart was picking up speed, your stomach restless both from a sudden nausea and the kid squirming around. Steve had said Bucky was noble and trustworthy, but here he was being all threatening and cold, and you were locked into this apartment alone with him. The sudden feeling of danger made your head spin, and your mind wandered back to that night.

-sudden lights at the window, your body moving too slow under all its extra weight, your heart in your throat -

Bucky leaned forward in his chair somewhat.

“What are you planning on doing with the baby? What is your plan for Steve?”

Hot tears sprung from your eyes like a sudden faucet, and a violent sob burst from you.

-hot, sticky blood raining down on your face in patters, the mortified gurgling sound of a throat ripped apart -

Your chair toppled over as you jumped up, driven by a flash of adrenalin, and you groaned as your joints protested the sudden movement with pain.

“I…what…n-no, he was the one who..I tried to say no, I never wanted - I didn’t want -”

Your throat closed on another sob, your lungs burning and you just couldn’t draw enough breath into them, panic making you suddenly dizzy. Your thoughts were running too fast, a voice in your head yelling at you to not say anything bad about Steve, about how he got you to the mansion, about how he got you pregnant.

You swayed dangerously to one side, your feet numb and weak, and for a split second you registered Bucky’s expression turning from suspicious and hard to something more concerned, a crack in his confidence. He got to his feet and clasped a hand around your upper arm. On second thought you should’ve realized he was trying to keep you from falling flat on your face, but in the moment all you saw was the masked man who’d tried to pry you from the closet in the mansion and drag you away.

Your reflexes kicked in, and before you knew it, your hands met Bucky’s chest with all the strength you could muster. Bucky did not fly across the room like the masked man had flown down the stairs - Bucky merely stumbled a step back - but the pure shock on his face registered in your mind even through your panicked haze. The half-open mouth, wide eyes and pinprick pupils, the color that drained several shades from his otherwise tanned skin and rosy cheeks. You might as well have flung him to the moon.

Your mind cleared slightly from its dizziness as you realized the baby’s inherited strength had charged yours once again, but your breath was still too short, too fast, the oxygen rasping up and down your esophagus before it could even reach your lungs. You were going to die, your mind thought with a pathetic little whimper.

“Whoah, easy,” Bucky said, taking a step forward with his hands raised in surrender, worry alight on his features where suspicion had been only a minute ago. “Breathe, c’mon breathe,” he said, gently stepping up to where you stood frozen in place, doing all you could to keep conscious as your head started pounding from the pressure and lack of oxygen. You watched as he brought one hand up to cradle your elbow, and found yourself reaching out your own hand to cling to him, grabbing on to his arm with your nails first. It somehow helped, if only a fraction, the warm, real, corporal feeling of his flesh working as a lifeline to keep you rooted to the earth, to reality, to consciousness. Your feet moved on their own, staggering a step closer to grab his other arm with your hand.

Help me, please, help, you thought with desperation as your irregular breaths got fractionally deeper.

“That’s it, breathe for me,” Bucky said as he let you draw closer to him, your nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. He looked into your eyes, his own calmer now than before, gentler, staring into yours so hard it forced you to focus through your panic, noticing with increasing awareness the speckle of green in his irises, how the light caught the blue, how his pupils slowly expanded as your breaths got longer and more even.

“That’s right, good girl,” he murmured, when at last your breath evened out and you could pry your stiff fingers from where they were stabbing into his forearms.

God, you needed a hug. Your feet felt like jello, there was a stab of pain in the back of your neck. You were going to have such a gnarly headache. And you needed a hug, your nerves hanging on by a frail, frayed thread. You needed Steve, but he wasn’t here, so you needed a hug, and the burly figure in front of you seemed like he gave great, big, warm ones.

Leaning forward, you slumped against Bucky, your face smushing into his chest, not caring that he was a practical stranger and that he’d just accused you of being some secret, evil succubus spy. Bucky stiffened noticeably as you practically fell into him, but then his arms came up to wrap around you, steadying you with an air of politeness.

You’re sure the moment was exceedingly awkward, but you were suddenly so overwhelmed and tired and filled with grief you couldn’t even feel it. Bucky was warm, like a furnace, so incredibly warm.

You were halfway into exhausted slumber by the time Bucky gently pried you away from his chest, and you barely kept the disappointed mewl from slipping past your lips. You looked up into his eyes, and saw tension there, intense and concentrated, along with unmistakable curiosity, still a little tainted by suspicion. But he asked you no further questions, simply said “let’s get you upstairs so you can rest” and then tugged you gently along back to your room and into bed. You were slipping into unconsciousness when you felt the bed dip, the silk sheet being draped over you and a gentle squeeze to your shoulder.

§

You awoke to the gentle rap of knuckles on your door and the smell of chamomile tea. You were still in the same clothes, sheet draped over you, and you blinked bleary, exhausted eyes open to see Bucky standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands.

You sat up and smiled a little as he made his way over to the bed, though you weren’t quite brave enough to meet his eyes. He put the tray down beside you on the bed and lingered.The tray had a mug of tea and a salad that looked delicious, with a wide variety of greens and cheese, nuts and seeds and a dressing of some kind. It looked like the perfect textbook snack Steve would’ve prepared for you. He’d probably given Bucky list upon list of things to give you and make sure you did while he was away. Steve and his imperious ways. You couldn’t help smile at that, your heart aching for him, feeling that Steve wasn’t too far away for a tiny moment.

“How’re you feeling?” Bucky asked.

“Better,” you said, truly feeling better in that moment, and patted the bed for him to sit and join you. You needed to get along with Bucky if he was Steve’s best friend.

You dug into the food, feeling famished. You felt Bucky watching you, and forced yourself to not lock up. You could feel the questions hanging in the air between you, but if you just pretended everything was fine, maybe he’d forget about asking them. You didn’t know how much Steve would allow you to tell about…well, anything.

“Can I ask you something?” he said after a minute of silence as you ate and sipped from your tea.

Oh crap, here we go

You dared to look up at him, meeting his baby blue eyes for a second before giving him a tiny nod and continuing to eat.

“You said something before…downstairs, when I asked what your plan for the baby and Steve was,” he started. He was speaking softly, no accusation in his tone whatsoever, but your heartbeat still sped up in your chest.

Scrambling, you tried to remember what you’d said. That whole ordeal was a blur, you couldn’t remember much outside feeling you were going to die from lack of oxygen.

Trying to keep your breathing in check, you raised a shoulder, trying for relaxed and feeling much too stiff, hoping against hope that Bucky would just let it go.

“You said that Steve was the one who…something, and that you had tried to say no. That you didn’t want…something,” Bucky said, sitting unmoving on the edge of the bed. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, afraid he’d see something in them you didn’t mean to show. Afraid you would betray Steve in some way, a sickening pulse of guilt wracking through you. “What did you mean by that?” Bucky asked after several long, silent seconds.

You tried opening your mouth to speak only to choke on your own spit, swallowing painful before opening your mouth again.

“I didn’t mean anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn’t say - I didn’t mean anything with it,” you stammered out, and bloody hell, you didn’t even believe yourself in that moment, all sweaty hands, flaky eyes and trembling voice.

Please don’t ask me anything more about it, you’ll ruin everything

You knew without looking that Bucky didn’t believe you, he was way too quiet for that, unmoving, assessing you, scrutinizing your crumbling appearance.

Why can’t you just let it go?, you thought desperately.

The food you’d just consumed churned in your stomach.

“Are you sure?” you heard him say, and you stared down at your hands in your lap, giving him a tiny, unconvincing nod.

Just leave it, please.

Bucky got up from the bed, the mattress aligning itself without his weight, and stood by it for a moment. You kept your gaze lowered, forcefully holding your anxiety down in order to keep what suspicions you could at bay.

“I’m going out to the city for an errand. Would you like to join me?” he asked.

You couldn’t help how your face shot up in surprise, how your eyes widened as you processed his words.

“What?”

Bucky looked you dead in the eyes, still scrutinizing, but he shifted on his feet as though a bit uncertain of himself.

“Well, Steve told me you liked to walk around the garden of his estate, and he insisted I try and keep your daily routine as unchanged as possible. If you were used to walking a lot, this apartment isn’t really big enough for that, so I thought you could join me in the city to get your steps in. We could take a turn around central park if you’d like,” Bucky said.

Walking. In the city.

You shook your head a little. No, you couldn’t do that. Were you even allowed? You doubted Steve meant for Bucky to take you into the city when he said to keep your routine unchanged. Still, an aching flare of need burst to life in your chest. Going outside. You wanted to go outside, to feel the breeze on your face, smell the rose garden, to listen to the birds. You knew you wouldn’t find much of that in New York city though.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, the need to get outside the glass cage that was the apartment warring with your uncertainty of being with all those people in the streets below. Things had not gone well the last time you’d done that. All that time ago, before things had become so good between you and Steve. Before he’d made you see you weren’t cut out for being independent. That you would be so much happier with him. Under his protection.

“Oh come on, it won’t take long, we’ll go as slow as you need,” Bucky said, and though his tone was lighter now, his eyes didn’t relent in their careful assessment of you.

Would he become more suspicious if you refused? You feared it. What normal woman would suddenly refuse to go for a walk if that was what she was used to? Maybe Steve wouldn’t mind. Or maybe you just desperately wanted to be somewhere else but inside the apartment all the way up in the sky like this, perched and dizzy.

“Okay,” you finally conceded.

You tried for a smile as Bucky bid you to meet him by the private elevator on the first floor in fifteen minutes.

The tiny hope that Steve wanted you to take walks down on the NYC streets soon died as you went through your closet and realized there was no coat nor any real shoes in the wardrobe Steve had curated for you. Uncharacteristically driven to succeed at your prerogative though, you put on a double pair of socks and the flat strappy sandals from way in the back of the closet, dorned your thickest cardigan and made your wobbly way downstairs.

Bucky was waiting by the elevator, checking something on his phone. A phone. How long had it been since you’d seen a mobile phone? He put it away as you approached, smiling as he lifted his gaze to you. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he looked over your outfit.

“It’s way too cold out for that, I’ll get your coat, and you should probably put on some boots,” he said, moving to go past you. Your hand shot out and landed on his chest, halting him.

“N-no, I, uh, I haven’t got any,” you blurted. His warmth burned through the layers of his sweater, distracting as your palm absorbed the heat.

His eyes narrowed on you.

“You haven’t got a coat or shoes?” he asked, and you just knew you’d revealed the wrong thing. This looked so bad.

“No, I do,” you lied,” Steve must’ve just forgotten to pack them when we moved, it all just happened so quickly, you know,” you said, smiling a little up at him, hoping he would back off at the reference to that night. “Anyway, I prefer these sandals. Bloated feet and whatnot.”

Bucky leveled you with his narrowed stare for a few seconds longer, probably weighing your words with whatever he could read on your face.

“All right, but I’m getting you one of my jackets. It’s a chilly day and I don’t want to risk your health,” he said sternly and made a beeline for his own room.

You breathed a sigh of relief, belatedly realizing he could’ve cancelled the whole outing outright because of this. You were suddenly quite…happy he didn’t. You were excited to go out, you realized, eager almost. And nervous, so nervous the baby was getting increasingly restless within you, moving about in your belly as you waited for Bucky to return, staring at the elevator doors in front of you.

You almost didn’t hear Bucky return with the way your blood pumped in your ears, not until a leather jacket was gently draped over your shoulders, the smell of a spicy cologne and well worn leather wafting into your nose. Not unpleasant, you realized as you insinuated your arms into it and brought it around yourself.

“Sorry, this is the only thing I have that I think’ll fit around your…um, well everything,” Bucky said, hesitating as he gestured vaguely at your belly and you noticed the faintest of pink dusting his cheeks.

How thoughtful…

“Thanks,” you said, closing the zipper at the front of the jacket tightly over your belly. It was snug, but it did indeed fit. Your outfit couldn’t have been more uncoordinated if you tried, with your woolen socks and strappy sandals, an ankle length satin dress and big, black leather jacket. But you didn’t care. You were going outside.

Adrenaline started pumping in your system the second the elevator pinged and the doors opened, and you again fought to keep up appearances and you stiffly moved into the little steel chamber to be taken down to ground level.

It’s perfectly normal to go outside, it’s perfectly normal to leave the house, there’s nothing to be afraid of, you kept repeating to yourself silently, avoiding looking in the direction of your chaperone.

You did well, you thought as you stared at the display above the door counting down the floor numbers until it only displayed a capitol “L” for lobby. Ground floor. Here we go.

Only, when the elevator doors opened, and there were several people waiting to ride it up, just standing outside, minding their business, not even looking at you…you couldn’t move.

Something was wrong, this was all wrong, you shouldn’t be doing this, you knew you shouldn’t.

In your peripheral vision, you noticed Bucky watching you, waiting for you to move ahead of him, observing even more of those things you were certain Steve wouldn’t want you to show him. The baby kicked your ribs.

“Come on, little lady,” Bucky murmured, and a warm, gentle hand on your back carefully nudged you forward. Under the guise of being heavily pregnant (which you were), you slowly moved forward, out of the elevator, not brave enough to meet the eyes of the people waiting, but murmuring thanks to them as they moved out of the way for you and Bucky.

Your breathing was choppy, and Bucky moved you to the side as soon as you were out of the way of the elevators. There was so much noise in the lobby, people milling about, music from somewhere, some children somewhere screaming with laughter, and through the opening doors all the way on the other side of the vast voajer, the deafening roar of city traffic filtered in.

Steve’s voice was suddenly loud in your head. You can’t make it out there, you’re too weak, too frail, they’ll swallow you whole, the voice whispered with finality, growing in volume, warping into a static roar. The laughter of the children turned to screams, the crowds noise became a deafening tsunami of sound, the blaring horns from cars hurting your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut and -

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice cut through the noise like a knife, bringing you back to your body with a pair of strong, warm hands on your shoulders, like anchors on your mind. “You’re okay,” he said, bowing his head to capture your gaze with his own.

You stared into his eyes, realizing you were about to spiral into your second panic attack that day, and that he’d calmed you down for the second time as well.

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice low and comforting, not drawing any attention to the two of you from the other people in the lobby.

“I’m, -” you rasped, realizing you were on the verge of hyperventilating, “I’m too weak,” you whimpered.

“Too weak for what? You look pale, is it the baby? Do you need to sit down?” Bucky asked, looking you over while keeping you from wobbling.

No, it wasn’t the baby, it was never the baby. It was you, you were too weak.

“No, the baby is fine, the baby is strong. It’s me, I’m too weak to make it out there on my own,” you nearly whined, eyeing the doors to the outside warily.

“What do you mean? You’re not alone. I’m here with you. And besides, you are strong, I felt it earlier,” Bucky said. You could tell he was sort of confused as to why he needed to give you a pep talk just to leave the lobby, but here he was. He put a hand on your belly, and the warmth of his palm could be felt through the layers of clothing, even through the leather of his jacket. The touch grounded you even more, sharpening your focus. You looked into his deep, earnest blue eyes. “You’re protecting the little one, right? You are his or her momma bear, and he or she gives you the strength and courage to do it, right?”

You stilled at those words, felt them absorb into you, felt them settle neatly somewhere deep inside you.

That’s…right. That’s it. Your baby gave you strength, unnatural amounts of strength, and you needed to protect your baby. Only you could protect your baby, you could feel it, deep down in the marrow of your bones, a deep-rooted unwavering certainty that could only be some instinctual thing inherited from all the mothers that came before you. How had you not noticed that before? How did Bucky manage to find the words that somehow unlocked that knowledge? Or maybe it’d been there the whole time…

Like a fog, the panic and anxiety lifted slightly from your hazy mind, and you laughed. Suddenly, a bit shakily, and incredibly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping at a few tears that escaped your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you were on the verge of tears.

Bucky smiled warmly.

“No need. I can’t imagine what all those hormones are putting you through, but if looks rough, I gotta tell you that. Now, how about we get on with the mission, if you’re still up for it?” he said, taking his hand off your belly and squeezing your shoulders reassuringly once before retreating them both from your form.

You nodded.

Your baby gives you strength, you protect your baby, you repeated in your head again and again as you followed Bucky to the doors. Though not a miracle cure, you found yourself steadily moving out the doors, into the streets, down the sidewalk, across to the next street and then on.

It was like watching yourself from outside your body. Here you were, just six weeks shy of your due date, walking the streets of New York city like a normal person. You kept expecting the world to explode, but it didn’t. You kept expecting the people meeting you on the street to brandish clubs or knives or needles to hurt you with, but they all pretty much ignored you.

Suddenly, Bucky had finished his errand and you found yourself waddling around Central Park with Bucky, breathing in the fresh air, listening intently for the bird song. You kept on the lookout for rose bushes to smell, but found the worm leather of your jacket made a surprisingly nice replacement. A child gave you a grin that lacked a front tooth and excitedly pointed at your belly before her mother pulled her away, scolding her for being rude. You couldn’t help waving at her and smiling as she was dragged away, looking back to find Bucky watching you, his eyes gentle, but guarded. He’d kept a close eye on you ever since leaving the apartment building, but strangely, you found yourself pushing the worries for what he might be thinking far away.

You hadn’t felt this calm in days. The breeze was gentle and cooling on the exposed skin of your face, your leg muscles thrummed pleasantly from how long you’d walked and the open sky above you made you feel like you could finally breathe properly again. You suspected Bucky might be part of why you felt so safe to just enjoy these sensations right now, but his words from earlier hadn’t stopped shining like a lighthouse in the back of your mind.

The baby gave you strength, and you would use that strength to protect your baby…and yourself. You had come to realize you’d already done that in the past. When that man had grabbed you from the closet in the mansion, you hadn’t freezed and cowered and yielded to whatever violence he’d dish out. You had defended yourself. You’d used the strength the baby gave you and protected you both. How had you not seen that as a reason for confidence before now?

Who knew how long those words could keep your anxiety at bay. For now, you made the most of this uncommon calm and said virtually nothing to Bucky for the rest of the walk before he took you back to the apartment complex.

The minute the elevator doors closed and locked behind you, and you reluctantly gave Bucky his leather jacket back, the threatening gloom of fear began to sink over you. You raised your chin, repeated your new found mantra to yourself and reflected on a new found experience you hadn’t believed possible. You had just been out almost all day in New York city, one of the busiest and most dangerous cities on the planet, and nothing had gone wrong. Fretful hope bloomed inside you. Maybe, just maybe things could work out for you. Maybe you didn’t have to be so scared shitless all the time. Hadn’t you lived and managed on your own before? In another life, all that time ago? Hadn’t that been you on your own for years before Steve entered your life?

You wobbled over to the couch, sighing deeply as you finally got your weight off your feet. Amazing as it was to feel the ache in your legs from muscles well spent walking, you could already feel all the aches in your body that Steve usually kept at bay with his massages, start to grow - beginning in your feet and lower back.

Steve…

Just the thought of him had you aching in an entirely different way. God, you missed his hands on your skin, how he fired up this all-consuming need in you, made you desperate for him. You were wound embarrassingly tight already, backed up in a way that was hard to ignore.

Before you could fall further into that line of thought, Bucky entered the living room. One look at him had your pleasant mood shifting.

“We need to talk,” he said.

[xoxoalaina]

Rumor has it Stanley's been hanging around Becca a little too much lately... looks like someone has a crush.

or is it just him?

ok so backstory for y'all:

Becca and Gianna are best friends. Until last year, Stanley, Becca, and Gianna all went to the same school.

Gianna was dating Stanley- it was only for a couple months, but it was pretty solid. Everyone ships Becca and Stanley, though. I wonder why...

All this time, Becca was dating some guy in her building. Let's call him Rufus. She didn't even like him that much. He was short, had this ginormous ego, and wasn’t even that funny. I actually wonder why she dated him, cause he was super scrawny. And we all know- Becca always goes for looks.

And then they broke up.

And I guess Stanley thought he could go for Becca now, cause he dumped Gianna the very next week.

And then Becca started kinda-sorta-dating this other guy. So she was in a situationship for 8 months with this guy, and she didn't exactly tell Stanley (he found out through someone else but that's unrelated). of course she didn't. she didn't feel the need to tell him that. why would she, since she didn't even know him that well... aside from- oh right, him dating her best friend.

Anyways, then they broke up and had a bunch of fights and stuff. And of course, she didn't tell Stanley. Why should she have?

(this is another kinda related thing that happened around the same time): Spotted at Foxfire International August 2024: Becca and Stanley together at a new school (my current school <3)... did they join together? did their applications together, probably. so... does this mean the rumors are true?

Anyways, then they broke up and had a bunch of fights and stuff. And of course, she didn't tell Stanley. Why should she have?

But when Stanley found out he started getting possessive. He started picking fights with her over it, shouting at her about it as if he even had a right to know everything about her personal stuff (sorry guys, I know my opinion is biased so- deal with it). He was all like "why didn't you tell me? are you keeping secrets from me, hiding stuff from me like this, huh?" and of course Becca found this extremely annoying. She stopped talking to him in school completely and blocked him (again, to that, he was all like, "are you AVOIDING me now?!!!" and got ridiculously mad).

Even Rhythm (B's current best friend- though who knows how long this one will last-) agrees. Like bro you can't be that possessive wtf. Quote, rhythm, “even I wouldn't care if you didn't tell me about it... like that’s literally YOUR choice.” (Note: she said this to Becca, and, again, I only know this because I'm really good friends with her- y'all are NOT going to start speculating about who I am please 😭)

Looks like Stanley needs a lesson on how to give a girl her personal space… or she’ll get away.

that's all for now! I'll continue updating y'all on this after spring break...

~ you know you love me ~

xoxo,

Alaina <3