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hxlxnaaa · 3 days ago

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𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after a week of silence following the events that spiraled from your fake relationship, there's a knock at your door in the night. the sequel to wishful thinking, read part 1 here!

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: sylus

★ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: some angst (happy ending), really sappy make up smut, soft sylus, kinda sub sylus if you squint, body worship, female reader

★ 𝐰𝐜: 3.1k

★ 𝐚/𝐧: woot woot part 2 is finally here, sorry for the wait!! i had envisioned this being a two-parter from the start, and i wanted to do a bit of sweet smut hehe. you'll have to pry soft and caring sylus out of my dead cold hands that man is needy and obsessed w mc :(

It had been a week.

A week of nothing, absolute silence. No calls, no texts. It slowly became as if Sylus never even existed.

It was hell at first. My feelings had come on so fast, and then just like that it was over in the blink of an eye. The game of it all, will they or won’t they find out, the lies, the fun. It was exciting, until I started to get hurt; and I wasn’t going to put my own feelings and misery aside at the expense of everyone else.

Slowly, but surely, the days got easier. I had a break from work where I could take the time to put myself back together, though the band aids didn’t heal the wounds. They just helped to ease the ache.

I started to move on. It had been a week; I was going to go back to work, and act as if none of this ever happened.

Then there was a knock at the door.

It came in the middle of the night, and I just assumed it was one of my neighbors telling me to turn my TV down, or Xavier dropping off a game he had borrowed.

When I opened it, outside in the complex's hallway stood a sopping wet Sylus, drenched from the storm outside. His silver hair was messy, sticking to his forehead, his clothes disheveled as if he had thrown them on in a rush. A look of desperation resided on his face, replacing his usual calm and smug demeanor.

Not seeing him for a week was not something out of the blue, but the big bad leader showing up at my doorstep shivering like a wet cat was. Especially after everything that happened.

My heart felt like it lurched out of my chest, and all the bandages I had tried wrapping around it came loose in one swift movement. All the healing I had done flew outside the door I had opened and stood beside Sylus, mocking me.

I almost slammed the door closed, angry at his audacity, showing up at my place in the heat of the night after not speaking to me. Angry at everything that happened. Angry, hurt.

A whisper of my name escaped his lips, and I froze. It wasn’t often he called me by my name, only addressing me with his usual pet names.

“What are you doing here?” I questioned, hesitant about this whole exchange.

He glared at me, “That’s no way to speak to someone in distress.”

Angry.

I went to shut the door in his face, pissed off and violent, but he stopped it with his hand.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” The apology felt foreign coming out of him, “Can I come in?”

The look on his face went soft, and it almost looked as if he was going to cry. Everything about this was so out of character for him, and if I wasn’t so angry, maybe I’d even feel sorry for him.

Without a word, I pulled the door back open, stepping aside for him to come in. He was obviously cold, and it seemed like was trying his hardest to keep himself together.

“Don’t sit on the couch, you’re wet.” Maybe I was being mean, maybe he was undeserving of my anger, maybe letting him in was a mistake. I sighed, “Sylus, why are you here?”

“You’ve been ignoring me.” His words were hard, and his stare was piercing. Normally I would feel uncomfortable under his gaze, but the exasperation I felt from his words outweighed that.

I scoffed, “I’ve been ignoring you? You haven’t reached out, what was there to ignore?”

“You’ve been ignoring me, you’ve been pulling back. I know you know I’m not stupid, kitten.”

He was right, he wasn’t stupid. When I started pulling away, he started pushing harder, and I could tell he knew I was almost done.

“Okay?” I crossed my arms, avoiding his eyes, “Then you started ignoring me. We’re even.”

“No.” He shot out, taking a step towards me, “That’s not how that works. I was waiting for anything from you, but it never came.”

“What did I do? What did I do wrong?” Sylus tilted his head forward, and I started to finally feel guilty. All of this was so different for him, when Sylus was upset he became mean, aggressive. He put up walls, started fights. For him to be so…pitiful, where was all of this coming from?

“I don’t understand what you mean-” He cut me off with a forced laugh, “You don’t understand? I don’t know how much more obvious I can be, sweetie.”

“Okay,” He paused, “I love you.”

My heart stopped. For a second, the world stopped spinning. It’s like everything, all at once, came to a halt with Sylus’ confession.

“You…love me?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. This was not how this was supposed to go. I loved him, that’s why I had to stop all of this, so it didn’t continue. It couldn’t continue. He cannot love me back.

“Why else do you think I threw myself into all of that? Why do you think I didn’t want anybody else to do it? Because I was bored? I have plenty of other things to do in my spare time.” His voice was hoarse, almost pleading for me to understand.

“Sylus, I-”

“For a second, I thought you loved me too.” Sylus sounded desperate, “But then you pulled back. You disappeared.”

He grabbed my hands, “Tell me, sweetie, what did I do wrong?”

“You love me.” I whispered, “That’s what you did wrong.”

Sylus let go, taking a step back. He ran his hand through his hair, a sorry attempt to pull himself back together, “I apologize,” He said, “I misunderstood this then.”

I looked at him, his appearance disordered and disheartened. The once prideful and arrogant man was now broken down to nothing but a shell of himself, and I realized the cause of that was me. Sylus was never one to back down from a fight, yet here he was throwing up a white flag.

He went to leave, turning his back to me. Turning his back to whatever was happening, breaking the character I had come to know. Going down without a fight. This broken man wasn’t Sylus.

“I love you too.” The words came out rushed, in a hurry to stop him. Announcing my own declaration of love wasn’t something I had intended to do, planning to keep it inside for all of eternity, letting the poisonous feeling bubble inside until it ate me alive.

Sylus stopped in his tracks.

“Then why is this wrong?” He didn’t turn back around to face me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. I’d crumble and fall if I saw his eyes.

“It would never work,” I let it all out, everything I had been holding in for so long, all the insecurities I had collected regarding any kind of relationship I could have with Sylus. “I’m a hunter, and you’re the head of Onychinus. We’re in two different worlds, living such different lives, it’s doomed. All of this is doomed.”

“Do you really think I care?”

His fingers suddenly gripped my chin with a possessive hold, as if he thought I might run off again. Trying to pull myself away, his grip tightened on my face, as well as the hold he had on my heart.

“It doesn’t matter if you care or not,” I gave him a weak glare, trying to scare him off, “don’t be selfish, Sylus. We’ll both just get hurt.”

Sylus lips twitched downwards, “I think you should allow yourself to be selfish for once.” His grasp left my face, “Do what you please.”

We stood in silence for a second, and I set my gaze upon the floor to avoid his stare, his red eyes penetrating my soul.

“What are you thinking?” He finally asked. I hesitated, not exactly sure what the right answer really was. I could continue to fight this feeling, or jump into the water.

“I’m scared.” I confessed, “I don’t want to get hurt. I can’t go through all of that, all of the heartache when things go wrong.”

“Now why do you think I would ever let that happen, sweetie?”

Sylus grabbed my hand, placing it against his heart, “This beats for you, I live for you.” I felt the quick, erratic rhythm of his heartbeat under my fingers, “I never stop missing you when you’re not around, every second you’re not beside me is misery.”

“I'll love you until my last breath, and even in the heavens too.” He pulls my hand up, placing a kiss against my palm, “I will never let anything happen to you, I could never live with myself if I hurt you.”

He kisses the back of my hand, my wrist, all the way up my arm to my collarbone, “I will do anything to make this work - if this falls apart, I’ll just put it back together. I need you by my side.”

I feel his soft breathing against the crook of my neck, and goosebumps rise on my skin. I want to fall into him, let myself become loose in his embrace and learn to trust his promises.

“But if you don’t want it, just say that.” Sylus presses one last kiss to the skin of my neck, “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave through that door, and I won’t bother you again.”

“Sylus…” I can only manage a whisper of his name. Everything else gets caught in my throat, my mind a tangled mess of emotions.

His face is inches from mine, and he quickly gives me an amused smile, “That's not a no.”

Before I can respond, even think of something to say, he captures my lips with his own. The strong smell of his cologne mixed with the taste of his mouth against mine makes me dizzy. The room and everything in it has suddenly become so warm, and my skin feels as if it’s been lit on fire.

Sylus pushes my body up against the wall behind us, hands trailing up my curves, grabbing at anything he can. His fingers embed themselves in my hips, waist, thighs, trying to pull me any closer.

“I’ll ask you again, sweetie,” He pulls away and I’m left standing there breathless with an unwavering grip on his (still) damp sweater, “do you want me to stop?”

I tangle my fingers in his wet hair, bringing his face back down to mine.

“No.” I whisper against Sylus’ lips, before crashing mine against his feverishly. Every feeling I had for him, everything I had suppressed, all of it was going into this kiss. He groaned into my mouth, his hold on me becoming tighter.

It all made perfect sense; The way our lips moved in sync, how our bodies fit perfectly together, our minds addicted to the thoughts of one another. We were, to put it simply, made for this. Our souls intertwined with ease as we found solace and safety in each other. All of the fear I had been plagued with dissipated with the consolation of Sylus’ body against mine. I was no longer scared of this not working, all I cared about was him.

After all, even a broken clock is right twice a day.

With one swift movement Sylus lifted me off my feet and cradled me with ease, maneuvering around my apartment as if it was his own.

Before I could even register I was in my bedroom, I was pinned against the mattress in the safe confine of his arms.

“Please,” His breathing was ragged, “let me show you how well I can treat you, let me touch you how you deserve.”

I lean up and kiss him between his furrowed brows, and he takes the opportunity to dive for my neck.

“Please.” Sylus repeats again. His eyes are practically begging. I give him a nod.

Stripping me of my shirt, he places gentle kisses down my torso down to the waistband of my shorts. Goosebumps rise on my skin from the cold air mixed with his gentle touch. His rough, calloused hands hold my hips like glass, a finger slowly pulling my shorts off my legs. A hiss of air leaves his lungs when Sylus sits back to take me in.

��Fuck.” He whispers, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for... Thought about having you like this.”

I give him a sheepish smile, “Is it worth the wait?”

His adams apple bobs in his throat as he swallows whatever words were going to leave his lips, running his hands up my thighs and waist. Sylus’ eyes travel up my figure, almost as if memorizing every dip and curve of my body.

“Every single second was worth it.” His voice was soft, “You’re perfect.”

Sylus leans down, pressing his lips to the bone where my hips and pelvis meet. He picks my leg up, lightly lifting it over his shoulder, resting his head on the inside of my thigh and looking up at me through his eyelashes.

He looks angelic, pure almost, glowing in the moonlight that spills through the window. His dominant, hard-bitten and arrogant exterior had disintegrated into nothing but his surrender as he lay open and bare for me in between my legs. All the walls I knew Sylus to have crumbled and fell, his only goal to show me that I’m loved; serving to please.

The tip of one of his fingers slides up my slit, and my breath catches in my throat. Sylus pauses, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay.” I confirm.

He quickly discards the cloth separating him from the heat in between my thighs, placing a gentle kiss to the place that craves him the most.

A moan escapes me as his lips latch onto my clit. My hands weave themselves through his hair, “Oh God, Sy- Do that again-”

Sylus groans into my core, worshiping the sex and heart that weeps for him, and only him. I twitch my hips towards his face, my mind reeling with the feeling that emits from his mouth.

“Yes-” He pushes a finger into me, easing the ache deep inside, “Be greedy, kitten, use me as you wish.”

I can only manage whimpers of his name, my brain incoherent and high on his mouth and touch as his tongue and fingers work magic. Tugging on the silver strands that grace his pretty head, the moan that leaves him vibrates against me, and I think for a second I might be done for.

“Mm, Sylus, wait-”

“That’s it, sweetie. Getting close?” His fingers curl up inside me and I shake my head, not wanting to finish so soon, “No, I-”

He pulls back and sits up as soon as the word leaves me, and I almost sob at the loss of contact. Sylus’ eyes scan my face with concern, and I pull him back down on top of me. His chest heaving against mine, he plants a kiss to the corner of my eye, “I thought I-”

“Not yet, fuck me.” Cutting him off, I push my body up against his.

“Of course, kitten,” Within seconds his pants and briefs were discarded somewhere in the room, my thighs instinctively wrapping around his hips, “who am I to deny you?”

His hard length pressed up against my entrance, the desperation making me crazy.

“Sylus, please-” I tried to push my hips forward, longing for more. He cupped my cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, inching deeper agonizingly slow, “Patience, sweetie. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t!” Despite my reassurance, Sylus’ eyes were still filled with worry. Using my legs that were wrapped around him, I yanked his hips forward and with one fell swoop he was to the hilt inside.

Spasming around him at the sudden fullness, I sunk my teeth into his collarbone to stifle a scream. I could feel myself gripping him like a vice, his moaning and panting in my ear a sweet confirmation.

“I told you I could do it.” I lapped at the broken skin where I had bitten.

Sylus laughed lowly against my lips, “I didn’t mean to doubt you, kitten.”

The movement of his hips were rhythmic, every thrust sending me deeper into a spiral of love and pleasure. My thoughts were nothing but static, only focusing on the beautiful man in front of me and how good he was capable of making me feel.

His own moans were strangled, groaning praises and muttering sweet nothings into my ear. Sylus thrusted deeply into me, tightly holding my hand as if he thought I and this moment were going to disappear. His eyes would snap open and flutter closed with every movement, relishing in the feeling of our bodies together.

My skin was electric, fireworks setting off in every corner of my being. My mind spun with the addictive feeling and taste of Sylus’ sweet lips on mine, his fingers digging into my hips.

He and I together were not doomed, though us being apart was. We were magnetic, velcro, sworn to be together. We were aligned in ways I wasn’t sure was even possible.

“Tell me again that you love me,” Sylus trapped my head in between his arms, “tell me that this is okay and you want it.” His eyes were misty, his voice hoarse.

“I love you.” I mewled as his thrusts were getting faster, harder.

“I can be good for you, I’ll take care of you, please just let me be yours. Please be mine, let me have this.”

The familiar feeling rose inside, and I knew I was close, “Yes, Sy- I’m all yours.”

“I love you, I love you, I love- Fuck-” His hips snapped against mine at a pace that had me seeing stars, “My girl, you’re my girl. Mine-”

His girl.

I came undone with a loud moan of Sylus’ name, scratching my fingers sharply down his back, arching myself deep against him. His hips stuttered against mine, reaching his own high. Wrapping each other in our arms, trying to pull one another any impossibly closer. So close our souls could touch.

I didn’t just want Sylus, no, I needed him. It wasn’t until I found him that I discovered the large, empty sorrowful space that resided in my life. A space that I was always too scared to confront, a space that he fit into so perfectly.

Some force in this massive universe decided to pair me with him, to make me his, and I was tired of being scared and ignoring it.

“I love you, Sylus.”

(divider by cafekitsune)

tag list!! ty all for the support <3

@crowskitten22 @peacedreamer14 @phantom-101 @evilldentists @ionlypartiallyslay @fealy @sellelqvz @huachengnism @mandysfanfics @shiorihoshino @sinnamon-bunn @knifep-rty @l0bulariia @knifep-rty @yoyach @ononpetitecroissant @syluslittlecrows @beewilko @unbetirtlt @sylus-crow

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #lnds #lnds smut #lnds fluff #lnds angst #sylus love and deepspace #sylus smut #sylus fluff #sylus x mc #love and deep space

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bunnysfairy · 3 days ago

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you’re trembling now, gasping, your thighs shaking as you bounce on her strap, but it’s not enough. your hand slows against your clit, and you whimper, looking down at her, still tied beneath you.

“can’t do it,” you finally admit, pouting as your hips falter. “can’t fuck myself the way you do. you’re too good.”

her eyes flash with a dangerous glint, a smirk tugging at her lips. “oh, baby, you finally ready to let me take care of you?”

you nod frantically, leaning over to untie her, your hands fumbling at the restraints as desperation takes over. “please,” you whisper. “i need you to fuck me. rough, mean- i can’t do it myself, please-”

as soon as her hands are free, she’s on you, flipping you over in one smooth motion, her arms caging you in. your heart races, excitement sparking through you as you expect her to finally ruin you the way you’ve been teasing her for all night.

but instead, she moves slowly, grinding her strap against you just enough to drive you crazy.

“oh, baby, you thought i’d let you get away with all that teasing?” she murmurs, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “thought i’d just fuck you like you wanted, after everything you put me through?”

your pout deepens, and you try to buck your hips, but her hands hold you down easily. “please,” you beg, your voice cracking. “i need it so bad,-“

she chuckles darkly, leaning in to kiss your neck, her lips brushing softly against your skin. “oh, you’ll get it, princess. but not until i’ve had my fun.”

before you can argue, she grabs a vibrator from the nightstand, turning it on and pressing it into your hand. “here.” she says, her tone commanding. “you’re gonna hold this against your pretty little clit while i fuck you nice and slow, and you’re not gonna cum. not until i say so. got it?”

you whimper, your body already trembling at the thought, but you nod, pressing the toy to your clit as she starts to move her hips.

she’s slow, too slow. her thrusts are deep and torturous, dragging her strap out of you only to push back in at an agonizing pace. every time your hips try to move faster, she grabs them, holding you still with a wicked grin.

“so needy,” she mocks, her voice low and sharp. “look at you, all wet and desperate, ruining yourself with that toy. keep going, baby. i want to see you make yourself cry.”

you’re sobbing now, tears slipping down your cheeks as the vibrations build, your body twitching under her slow, relentless pace. “please,” you cry out, “please let me cum, i can’t-“

“no.” she growls, her hand wrapping around your throat, holding you in place. “you don’t get to cum until i say. when you feel it coming, you’re gonna pull the vibrator away. and i’m gonna pull out. you don’t deserve to cum yet.”

your chest heaves, panic bubbling up at the thought. “but, please, that’s-“

“do it.” she snaps, her voice cutting through your protests.

when your orgasm starts to build, your body trembling as the vibrations push you closer, you cry out, shaking as you pull the vibrator away and she pulls out just as you clench around nothing. it’s too much, the sensation of losing it all leaving you sobbing, your body twitching from the overstimulation with none of the release you craved.

“good girl,” she purrs, her voice dripping with condescension. “see? you can listen when you try.”

you shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your face as you clutch at her. “please, i can’t- don’t make me ruin it aga-“

“oh, you’re not done yet,” she says with a cruel smirk, grabbing your wrist and forcing the vibrator back into your hand. “again. and this time, i want to see you beg harder.”

you sob, your body trembling as you press the toy to your clit once more. her thrusts are still unbearably slow, her grip on your hips unbareable as you ruin yourself again. your orgasm slipping away just as she pulls out and your overstimulated body jerks against the sheets.

“pathetic,” she murmurs, her tone soft but biting. “you’re a crying, trembling little mess, aren’t you? you wanted this so bad, and now look at you. can’t even handle it.”

you’re sobbing openly now, your body shaking as you claw at her arms. “please,” you choke out, “please, i’ll be good- just let me cum, please- ”

her gaze softens slightly, and she cups your face, her thumb brushing away your tears. “there we go, bunny,” she murmurs. “you’ve finally learned your lesson, huh? such a good girl for me now.”

her hips snap forward, her pace rough and fast, finally giving you what you’ve been begging for all night. her hand slips between your bodies to rub your overstimulated clit, and you scream, your nails digging into her shoulders as your body arches beneath her.

“that’s it, baby,” she groans, her voice low and soft. “cum for me. let it all out.”

your orgasm crashes through you, leaving you shaking and sobbing in her arms, and this time, she doesn’t stop. she fucks you through the aftershocks, her hands soothing and grounding as she holds you close.

after, she pulls you into her lap, wrapping a blanket around you as she whispers soft praises. “you did so good, princess,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your temple. “so perfect for me. i’m so proud of you.”

she cleans you up gently, her touch careful and soft as she kisses every inch of your skin, holding you close until your breathing evens out. “i’ve got you,” she whispers. “always.”

#butch bait #lesbian ns/fw #butch appreciation #lesbian #wlw ns/fw #sapphic #wlw coquette #wlw nsft #wlw smut #sapphic nsft #ruined 0rgasm #edging kink #femme4butch #wlw nstf #lesbian nsft #my butch <333

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rosemariiaa · 3 days ago

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~Caffeinated Crush~

𐙚- pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚-synopsis: Paige works at a bookstore, and Azzi is the girl who comes in every day but never buys anything. When a spilled coffee incident occurs, she learns Azzi is sketching her in a nearby cafe.

𐙚- this is so cuteeeee, yes i am still currently working on chapter 3 of RMH so you’ll have that soon, but for now enjoy these cuties! happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚-themes: fluff, au

𐙚- taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @juspeaks @imaginespazzi @pbaz7 @bueckersbitch @xxloveralways14 @d3arapril @lupinqs @pazzilover101 @ashortyluvsports @absolutelydreadful

enjoy!!!

I should’ve never let Nika get in my head.

My thumbs hover over the screen of my phone as I scroll through yet another endless TikTok, airpods blasting maybe the best R&B playlist handpicked by the queen. Anyway, the store is empty—of course it is. It’s barely 10 a.m., and no one is running to a bookstore this early unless they’re sixty or a morning person.

Not me, though. I’m here because Nika decided to call me lazy last week and the whole team agreed. Said all my NIL deals made me too comfortable, like I didn’t just have the Big East Scholar of the Year award, not to be cocky or anything but doesn’t that mean i’m smartest to ever exist? Exactly. But no, she just still had to run her mouth, so now I’m working this dumb part-time job at “Bound and Brew,” where the only exciting thing is the smell of cinnamon wafting in from the café next door.

Speaking of which, I mentally add a bagel to my lunch break checklist. Asiago, toasted, extra cream cheese—don’t judge me.

I glance at the clock on my phone. Still early. My chin rests in my palm as I lean on the counter, half-heartedly refreshing the store’s Instagram page. No new likes. Big surprise. God, I have practice tomorrow, and for what?

My earbuds buzz with a notification, but before I can check, the door chimes.

My eyes flicker up, and there she is. The girl with the brown, coily hair.

She’s been coming here for weeks now. Never buys anything, just walks around, poking through shelves like she’s on some personal treasure hunt. I’m pretty sure she works at the café next door—I always see her there, either taking orders or perched by the window with a book in one hand and a green matcha latte in the other. Matcha. It’s alright, I guess, but I can’t help the silent judgment. gatorade > tea.

Her eyes meet mine as she steps inside, and I clear my throat, pulling out one earbud. “Hey, what can I do for you?”

She smiles softly, the kind of smile that’s more polite than warm. “You’re fine. I don’t need help yet.”

Her voice is quiet, soft enough that it almost doesn’t match the confidence in the way she carries herself. She’s bundled in a gray puffer coat, her pink sweatpants tucked into winter boots. The UConn shirt under her jacket catches my eye.

She goes to my school? Weird. I’ve never seen her on campus.

I nod, going back to my phone, but I can’t help the way my eyes track her as she moves through the store. Her hands graze the spines of books, pausing occasionally to pick one up, read the back, then put it back in place.

She doesn’t rush. There’s something careful about the way she lingers in each aisle.

I shouldn’t be looking (staring) at her like this.I really shouldn’t, but her hair is just…nice. Thick curls that spring with life, framing her face like something out of a painting. And her skin? Smooth, glowing, the warm tone almost golden under the soft overhead lights.

Wow. I’m really gay.

I snap my attention back to my phone, pretending to scroll. My heart’s doing that annoying thing where it skips.

When I glance up again, she’s at the door. Leaving already. She didn’t pick up a book or anything again.

The door chimes softly as it closes behind her, and I’m left staring at the empty space where she just stood.

She’s really, really pretty.

And just like that, I’m shaking my head, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Get it together, Paige.

This is supposed to be a job, not some secret queer daydream.

By the time my lunch break rolls around, I’m practically counting down the seconds.

The café next door is my safe haven. Warm, cozy, and always smelling like cinnamon and espresso. It’s everything the bookstore isn’t. I step inside, stomping the snow off my sneakers, and head straight for the counter.

There’s no line, which is a small miracle, but then I see her pretty face again.

Brown curls, her same shirt, pink sweats, and those same bright eyes. She’s standing behind the counter, tying an apron around her waist.

Oh.

I knew she worked here! Scholar of the year i told you.

“Hi,” she says when she spots me. Her voice is just as soft as before, but there’s something about the way she looks at me that makes my stomach flip.

“Hey,” I reply, trying to sound casual. “Can I get an asiago bagel, toasted? Extra cream cheese.”

She nods, her hands already moving to jot down the order. “Anything to drink?”

“Just a black coffee,” I say. “Simple.”

She glances up briefly, the corner of her lips quirking like she’s amused. “Simple’s good.”

Her gaze lingers a second too long, and I feel the faintest heat creeping up my neck. There’s something about the way she’s looking at me, like she’s trying to figure me out but doesn’t want me to notice. I definitely noticed.

I glance at her name tag, needing some kind of distraction. “Azzi,” I murmur under my breath. It suits her.

She catches me looking, her cheeks tinting the slightest pink as she fiddles with the pen in her hand. “It’ll be ready in a minute,” she says quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thanks, Azzi.” Her name rolls off my tongue easier than I expect, and the way her eyes widen just a little makes it worth it.

Azzi ducks her head, pretending to check the order screen, but I can see the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. She’s shy, reserved even, but there’s something so genuine about the way she carries herself. It’s almost refreshing.

As I wait, I glance around the café, the hum of chatter and clinking mugs filling the space. A few students are hunched over laptops in the corner, and there’s an older couple sharing a slice of cake by the window. The atmosphere is cozy, intimate, like something out of a movie.

“Bagel and coffee,” Azzi calls softly, placing my order on the counter.

I step forward, and for a split second, our hands brush as I reach for the tray. Her fingers are warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside, and I swear I see her inhale sharply before quickly pulling away.

“Thanks,” I say again, trying to meet her eyes.

“You’re welcome,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper. She hesitates, like she wants to say something else, but instead, she bites her lip and busies herself wiping down the counter.

As I turn to leave, I catch her glancing at me again, her gaze lingering on my face before quickly darting away.

I smirk to myself, holding back a chuckle. So she does notice me.

Sliding into a seat by the window, I take a sip of my coffee, my eyes drifting back to Azzi. She’s leaning against the counter now, flipping through what looks like a notebook, nah definitely a sketchbook. Her curls bounce slightly as she moves, and there’s a faint smile on her lips, like she’s lost in her own little world.

For some reason, it’s hard to look away.

I finish my bagel way too fast, but instead of leaving, I sit there for a while, pretending to check emails on my phone while sneaking glances at her. She’s busy now, taking orders and chatting with customers, but every once in a while, her eyes flicker over to me.

It’s subtle—barely noticeable—but it’s enough to make my chest tighten.

When I finally get up to leave, I make a point to walk past the counter.

“See you around, Azzi,” I say, letting her name hang in the air.

Her head snaps up, her eyes wide with surprise. “Yeah, uh—see you,” she stammers, her cheeks flushing as she fumbles with a stack of napkins.

I chuckle to myself as I step back into the cold, the warmth of the café lingering in my mind.

This job might not be so bad after all.

—

The next morning, Paige finishes practice, her muscles aching but her mind buzzing with anticipation. She now knows Azzi works morning shifts, and though she tells herself she’s just stopping by for breakfast, there’s no denying the extra pep in her step as she drags Nika along with her to the café.

As they walk in, the comforting aroma of coffee and freshly baked goods fills the air. Paige’s eyes scan the room, immediately finding Azzi at the counter, focused on a stack of receipts. Her heart skips a beat.

Paige shrugs off her hoodie, tossing it onto the back of a chair at an empty table by the window. She and Nika sit down, glancing over the breakfast menu. Paige tries to act casual, but Nika, ever observant, leans in.

“Calm yourself down and find something to get.” Nika pipes up.

“Shut up,” Paige mutters, burying her face in the menu.

Just then, Azzi glances up and notices them. Her expression softens, and she waves, a shy smile spreading across her face.

Paige beams back, her cheeks tinged pink as she waves back.

“Hi,” Azzi greets, approaching their table. Her soft voice makes Paige’s heart flutter.

“Hey,” Paige responds, a little too quickly.

“What can I get you guys?” Azzi asks, pulling out her notepad.

“I’ll have eggs and a croissant,” Nika says, glancing between Paige and Azzi with a knowing smirk.

“I’ll take some pancakes,” Paige says, handing Azzi the menu.

Azzi jots down their orders and looks up. “What would you like to drink?”

“Orange juice,” Nika answers.

“And—” Paige starts, but before she can finish, she and Nika both say in unison, “Coffee, black.”

They burst into laughter, and Paige sneaks a glance at Azzi, whose dimples appear as she smiles.

“Got it,” Azzi says, gathering the menus and walking back toward the counter.

Paige’s eyes linger on her retreating figure, her gaze drifting downward until Nika snaps her fingers in front of her face.

“Yo twin, is that the girl you keep talking about in your sleep?”

Paige’s head snaps toward Nika, her eyes wide. “What? In my sleep?”

Nika leans back, smirking. “Yeah, I heard you last night saying her name over and over again. ‘Azzi, Azzi,’” she mimics, feigning a dreamy voice.

Paige’s face flushes. “Shhh! I don’t—whatever, I just say random stuff when I’m sleeping.”

“Sure, sure,” Nika says, winking. “But you keep staring at her. And she keeps looking over here.”

Paige shrugs, slipping into her usual cocky demeanor. “Well, I mean, it’s me. Can you blame her?”

Nika rolls her eyes. “Cocky ass.”

A few moments later, Azzi returns with their food. She sets Nika’s plate down first.

“Thank you,” Nika says with a grin.

As Azzi places Paige’s plate in front of her, she hands her the coffee. But before Paige can grab it, another worker bumps into Azzi from behind, sending the coffee spilling onto Paige’s shirt. Azzi stumbles forward, gasping as she falls right into Paige’s lap.

“Yo!” Paige snaps, turning to the worker. “Can’t you watch where you’re walking? You just made her fall.”

The worker mumbles an apology and scurries off as Azzi scrambles to her feet, her face burning red.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Azzi stammers, her voice shaking.

Paige brushes it off, trying to calm her down. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. But I do need a new shirt now.”

Azzi looks stricken. “I—I think I have an extra one in the back. Come with me to the bathroom?”

Paige stands, turning to Nika, who is smirking like the Cheshire Cat.

“Shut up,” Paige warns, flipping her off as she follows Azzi.

In the bathroom, Azzi motions for Paige to wait while she fetches a shirt. As soon as she leaves, Paige peels off her stained hoodie, leaving her in a sports bra and sweats. She grabs a paper towel, wets it at the sink, and wipes the remaining coffee off her stomach.

When Azzi returns, she pauses for a moment, her eyes widening slightly before she quickly hands Paige a black t-shirt.

“Sorry again,” Azzi murmurs.

Paige grins as she pulls the shirt over her head. “You’re good. Thank you.” She smooths the fabric and gives a playful twirl. “See? Good as new.”

Azzi giggles, her dimples deepening.

Paige’s expression softens. “You have a really pretty smile.”

Azzi ducks her head, her cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” she says softly. “We should probably head back before my boss notices.”

“Lead the way, Miss Azzi,” Paige says, motioning dramatically toward the door.

As Paige returns to the table, Nika raises an eyebrow. “Everything good?” she asks, smirking.

“Shut up,” Paige mutters, sitting down.

Once they finish eating, Nika and Paige pack up to leave. As they’re about to walk out, Paige glances around, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Azzi. When she doesn’t see her, she sighs and heads for the door.

Just as she steps outside, she feels a light touch on her back. Turning, she finds Azzi standing there, holding a folded piece of paper.

“Hey,” Azzi says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to say sorry again about your shirt.”

“I told you, it’s okay,” Paige says, smiling. “Things happen. And I love my new shirt.”

Azzi smiles nervously, then holds out the paper. “Okay, um, don’t think this is weird, but it kinda is? but it’s also- anyway I wanted to give you this.”

Paige takes the paper and unfolds it, her eyes widening at the detailed sketch of herself.

“Woah,” she breathes.

Azzi shifts on her feet. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. I just did it for fun.”

Paige fakes a pout. “And here I thought you did it because you liked me.”

Azzi blinks, her cheeks flaming. “Well… that too,” she admits quietly.

Paige grins, her confidence swelling. “This is so good I could literally kiss you right now.”

Azzi’s voice drops to a whisper. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Paige steps closer, her hand cupping Azzi’s cheek as she leans in. Their lips meet, soft and tentative at first, before deepening into a kiss that leaves them both breathless.

When they pull apart, snowflakes drift around them, settling in their hair. Paige grins. “So, if I asked you on a date right now, would you sketch me again?”

Azzi laughs, her dimples showing. “Maybe.”

“Pretty please?” Paige pleads, pouting dramatically.

Azzi rolls her eyes playfully. “Fine fine. Since you’re begging.”

Azzi glances over Paige’s shoulder, spotting Nika in the distance, pumping her fist in the air and yelling, “Go gays!”

“Isn’t that your friend?” Azzi asks, raising an eyebrow.

Paige groans, dragging a hand down her face. “I don’t know her.”

#pazzi #fic talk #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #rosie’s works 🎧⋆｡ °⋆#rosemariiaa

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prettymfwrites · 1 day ago

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Wifey🤰🏾💍

Mom Paige bueckers x influencer mom female reader

Summary: You and Paige are married and have three kids... Which as quickly become a running joke.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The cozy hum of family life filled the kitchen as you set your phone up against the countertop for an impromptu Instagram Live. Parker was perched on your hip, her chubby hands fiddling with the strap of your tank top as her big brown eyes darted around with curiosity. Her soft coos melted your heart as you adjusted the angle of the phone, your face lighting up when the viewers started rolling in.

“Alright, y’all, don’t come for me about how tired I look,” you teased, glancing at the comments scrolling quickly on the screen. “This is mom life, okay? Three kids in five years. I’m running on iced coffee and vibes at this point.”

Parker gurgled, and you kissed her cheek softly. “Parker says hi, by the way. Say hi, baby,” you encouraged, lifting her tiny hand to wave at the screen.

The comments were already flying in:

“Y’all had another kid?!”

“At this point, Paige needs to chill.”

“Mama stays busy fr.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I swear, y’all love dragging Paige. She’s somewhere around here, probably eating something she didn’t ask me if she could have.”

Right on cue, you felt familiar arms slide around your waist from behind. Paige’s taller frame towered over you, and you felt her chin rest lightly on top of your head. She pressed close, her warmth immediately grounding you.

“There she is,” you said, laughing softly as the comments exploded. “And here comes the culprit.”

Parker lit up when she spotted Paige, letting out an excited squeal. Paige peeked down at the baby, grinning ear to ear. “Hi, Mama,” she cooed, her voice soft and playful as Parker reached out for her.

“Here, take her,” you said, passing Parker to Paige, who immediately kissed her baby’s cheek. The sight made your chest warm. Seeing Paige with your kids always hit you in a special way.

“Look at these two,” you said to the camera, your voice tinged with affection. “They look like twins.”

Paige stayed behind you, holding Parker with one arm while keeping the other securely around your waist. Her grip was gentle yet firm, a silent reminder of how much she adored you. You glanced at a comment that caught your eye.

“Let us see the nails.”

“Oh, okay!” you said, holding up your hand to the camera. Your fresh set gleamed, and the delicate cursive "P" on your ring nail caught the light. “What do y’all think? I wanted something simple this time.”

Before you could pull your hand away, Paige leaned closer, pointing at the nail. “Y’all see this? This my baby. My wife. That ‘P’ don’t stand for anyone but me,” she declared proudly.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, Buckets. You know they know I’m yours.”

Paige smirked, her free arm snaking back around your waist to pull you even closer. The comments started to get even more chaotic:

“Paige, get off her!”

“Doctor, it’s loose again!”

“Sis can’t breathe, let her go.”

“Okay, so y’all thinking boy or girl for the next one?”

Paige laughed loudly, leaning her forehead against the back of your head. “If y’all had a woman like this, you wouldn’t be able to stay off her either. Be real.”

You turned your head to give her a side-eye. “Paige, don’t start.”

“Oh, I��ve been started,” she teased, pressing a series of soft kisses on your shoulder. Parker babbled happily in her arms, as if agreeing with her mama.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, your heart full in a way that words couldn’t quite capture. Turning your attention back to the live, you read aloud one more comment: “Seriously, Paige, leave the poor woman alone!”

“Y’all act like I don’t love this,” you said, smiling knowingly. “I married her for a reason, didn’t I?”

Paige grinned behind you, placing another kiss on your shoulder. “You sure did. You stuck with me now, baby.”

I take requests! 💋 also leave a comment I love to hear from y'all

#paige bueckers x you #paige bueckers uconn #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige x reader #uconn x reader #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fanfiction

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nomie-11 · 23 hours ago

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First Call Back

masterlist! | part 1 here!

synopsis: after your impromptu move to Piltover, not all of your solutions are solved, but you're finally together again, so maybe this could work out, right?

pairings: vi x reader, powder is lowkey reader's adoptive daughter

“I’m heading out early today, so don’t look for me when you wake up. Breakfast is in the fridge, Powder is At school, and I’ve started the laundry. Don’t forget that ‘how is Powder adjusting to fancy private school meeting’ is tomorrow at 7:00. I promise I’ll shower after work so I don’t scare off the teacher. See you later. Love you, babe.”

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, September 3rd, 7:32 a.m.

—————

You hadn’t quite made up your mind about Piltover yet. Yes, you had already moved there, and what little belongings you had were already set and away in your new apartment, but Piltover was weird.

You could tell Powder wasn’t entirely happy about it, too. You and Vi had lined up the move so that Powder would start fresh on her first day of her first year of high school. The two of you (and Caitlyn) had even taken Powder out to get some new clothes, and she appreciated it, but you knew when she wasn’t feeling great.

It all came to a head when, one night for dinner, you were sitting across from Powder, Vi on your other side with her textbooks and notes spread out, headphones pulled securely down over her ears.

“How was school today, baby?” you asked softly, looking up from your plate to her, sitting in the kitchen chair she had claimed as her own, her knees pulled into her chest. Her soft, violet blue eyes were rimmed red as she glanced at you.

“It was fine,” she mumbled, using her fork to push around her food on her plate, immediately shifting her gaze back down. She hadn’t taken a single bite all night—something that used to be foreign, she always used to eat, purely off the knowledge that you had sacrificed something for her plate to be full.

With a soft sigh, you reached across the table, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

“You’ll tell me when you want me to braid your hair, okay?”

She just nodded, dropping her fork onto the plate and pushing it towards you. “Thanks for dinner.”

—————

“Did Powder tell you what’s going on? Those fancy Piltover assholes have been bullying her—saying she’s too skinny, that her hair is weird. They took her sketchbook today and started tearing out pages. When she got home from school, she just went straight to her room, didn’t even say hi. I had to force her to tell me when she finally grabbed a snack and took one of your high protein, high calorie bars that she hates.”

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, September 28th, 4:39 p.m.

—————

The walls of the apartment were a sterile white. Powder originally was excited to decorate them with you, but the excitement had fizzled out as quickly as it came. Boxes still sat unopened in the corner of her room, her sketches and art supplies untouched. The bright posters you’d picked out to liven up the place remained rolled up on her desk. She spent most of her time curled up on her bed, headphones in, drowning out the world.

It hurt to see her like this. Powder had always been the spark, the light in the darkest days. Now, her spark seemed dimmed, weighed down by the move, the new school, and the unfamiliar faces that didn’t bother to understand her.

That night, as you were tidying up the kitchen, you heard her soft footsteps approach. Powder hovered at the edge of the room, her arms wrapped around herself, looking smaller than ever.

“Hey, baby,” you said, wiping your hands on a towel. “What’s up?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the floor. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Can I… can I have some juice?”

“Of course,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light as you moved to the fridge. “You want your usual cup and straw too?”

She nodded, still not meeting your eyes. You grabbed the juice in silence, the quiet punctuated only by the soft click of Powder’s favorite cup against the metal of her straw. When it was ready, you placed the cup in front of her at the table, sitting down across from her.

For a moment, she just stared at the mug, her hands cradling it for warmth. Then, she took a shaky breath and said, “I miss home.”

Your heart clenched. “I know, baby,” you said softly. “It’s okay to miss it. This is a big change.”

She nodded again, her eyes glassy. “It’s just… everything’s different here. The school, the kids, they don’t get me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, reaching out to take her hand. “I”m sorry I can’t fix this for you, but you don’t have to go through this alone, okay? Me and Vi—we’re here for you. Always.”

Powder sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. Then, out of nowhere, she murmured, “Thanks, mom.”

The words hit you like a freight train. Your breath caught, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her. Powder didn’t even seem to realize what she’d said, her focus still on the mug in her hands.

—————

“I don’t think she even knows she did it on purpose. But it still hit me, Y/n. Like I’ve been trying so hard to make things better, to be there, and she… she doesn’t even see me like that. I guess I deserve it. I left her.”

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, September 29th, 12:14 a.m.

—————

The next morning, Vi wasn’t at the breakfast table. Powder had barely touched her cereal, her spoon stirring it listlessly. You decided against pushing her to eat more; the last thing she needed was added pressure.

“Vi’s still upset, huh?” Powder asked, her voice small.

“She’s just tired, baby,” You said, sitting down beside her. “She loves you so much, Powder. You know that, right?”

Powder nodded, but her eyes stayed downcast. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you murmured, brushing a strand of her soft blue hair behind her ear. “It’s just… complicated. She’s trying to figure out how to be what you need. And sometimes, it’s easier for her to feel like she’s not enough.”

Powder looked up at you then, eyes wide. “But she is. She’s enough.”

“I think she needs to hear that from you,” you said gently.

—————

“Can you come home? Powder feels like shit, and I know you said you’re going for a run and I shouldn’t wait up for you, but I need to talk to you tonight.”

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, October 12th, 11:23 p.m.

—————

Powder had already gone to bed when Vi finally came through the door, her face flushed from a run that went on for longer than was originally planned. You were sitting on the couch, nursing a cup of tea, waiting for her.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“Hey,” she replied, toeing off her shoes. She didn’t sit beside you, instead heading for the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

“You can’t just keep running away,” you said, your voice calm but firm.

Vi froze mid-pour. “I’m not running,” she said after a moment, her tone defensive.

“Yes, you are,” you said, setting your tea down on the counter. “Powder needs you right now. She feels terrible about what happened, Vi. And honestly? So do I.”

Vi turned to face you, her jaw tight. “Why would you feel terrible? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Because I should’ve seen this coming,” you said, standing up. “I should’ve talked to you about how she sees me, about how much she relies on me when you’re not around. This wasn’t fair to either of you.”

Vi’s shoulders slumped, her anger deflating. “I just… I wanted to fix things,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wanted her to see me as her sister again, not some stranger who shows up every now and then.”

“She does,” you said, stepping closer, resting your hand on her arm. “But Vi, you can’t force her to heal overnight. She’s grown up. She’s changed.”

Vi’s eyes filled with tears, and she set the glass down with a shaky hand, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in her shoulder. “I’m not cut out for this,” she whispered.

“You are,” you said firmly, wrapping your arms around her. “We’ll figure this out.”

—————

“I helped Powder with her art project last night. We stayed up until midnight cutting out tiny stars because Powder didn’t like how hers turned out. It was the first time I’ve seen Powder smile in weeks. I think… I think we might be okay.”

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, October 17th, 10:22 a.m.

—————

The next week, the three of you went out for ice cream. It wasn’t much—just a quick trip to a small shop down the block—but it felt like a turning point. Powder clung to Vi’s arm the whole way there, her sketchbook tucked under her other arm. Vi didn’t let go once, even holding the door open with her foot.

As you sat at a table, Powder flipping through her drawings to show Vi her latest ideas, you caught a glimpse of the sister Vi had been before everything had fallen apart. She laughed at Powder’s jokes, teased her about her favorite colors, and even let Powder draw on her arms around her tattoos.

“Maybe you should get it tattooed,” Powder said with a smile, pulling back her marker to give you a clear view of the intricate lines of flowers crawling up Vi’s mechanical ink.

Vi grinned. “You think so? Maybe we can get matching ones someday.”

Powder’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Totally,” Vi said, ruffling her hair.

You watched them, your chest tight with a mix of relief and undying love. For the first time since the move, things felt… okay.

—————

“I saw Powder hug Vi today. Like, really hug her—not one of those quick, awkward ones. She clung to her, just like she used to. Vi cried when she thought I wasn’t looking.”

—phone call from Y/n to Caitlyn Kiramman, October 28th, 7:48 p.m.

—————

Powder and Ekko had claimed the living room, their laughter spilling into the kitchen where you and Vi were cleaning up after dinner. Powder’s sketchbook and Ekko’s toolbox—filled with small scraps of metal and wires—were spread out on the coffee table, and you could hear them trading ideas for some kind of contraption they wanted to build together.

“They’re loud, but I’m not complaining,” Vi said, drying a plate.

“Neither am I,” you said with a soft smile, handing her another dish to dry. “She’s never had a friend like him before.”

Vi glanced over her shoulder at the two teens, her expression softening. “She deserves to have someone like him. Someone who gets it.”

“Yeah, she does,” you agreed, turning back to the sink. “Genius and madness. Let’s just hope they don’t blow up the apartment.”

Vi snorted, leaning on the counter beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “If they do, at least we know Powder will find a way to fix it.”

You chuckled, glancing over at the living room. Powder was laughing now, a real, uninhibited laugh that filled the apartment with a warmth you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. Ekko was gesturing wildly, clearly explaining some grand idea, and Powder was nodding along, her now short blue hair bobbing with enthusiasm.

“She’s totally doing better,” Vi said quietly, her eyes on her sister.

“She is,” you replied, reaching for her next dish.

Vi’s hand covered yours, stilling your movement. “Thanks for sticking with us,” she said, her voice low but sincere. “I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

You squeezed her hand, your heart swelling. “You don’t have to thank me, Vi. I love you both too much for you to ever have to know what you’d do without me.”

The sound of something crashing in the living room snapped both of your heads toward the noise. Powder and Ekko froze, their eyes wide as they looked at the overturned coffee table and the scattered parts of their project.

“Uh… we can fix it!” Powder blurted, already scrambling to gather the pieces.

Vi groaned, running a hand over her face. “I stand by what I said. They’re definitely blowing up the apartment.”

You laughed, grabbing a towel to clean up the spilled juice. “At least they’re having fun doing it.”

Vi smirked, shaking her head. “They’re lucky they’re cute.”

—————

“Hey, Cait. I know I’m running late for our lab, I swear I’m on my way—I just got a little held up at home. So much is going on. Powder’s smiling more, and she’s made this friend—a kid named Ekko—just moved here from Zaun with his adoptive father. They’ve been hanging out at our place, and for once I don’t feel like I’m walking on eggshells around her.

And Y/n just applied to Piltover University for night classes. Can you believe it? She’s so nervous, but I know she’s gonna crush it. I told her I’d help with whatever she needs. Anyways, I’m on my way! Don’t wait for me.”

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, November 4th, 11:14 a.m.

—————

The day your acceptance letter arrived, Vi practically tackled you in excitement.

“I told you!” She crowed, spinning you around the kitchen. “I told you you’d get in!”

”Vi, put me down!” You laughed, trying to wriggle free.

“No way! This is huge, Y/n!” She said, finally setting you down but not letting go of your hands. “You’re going to college! You’re going to kill it. I’m so proud of you.”

You blinked back tears, your chest tightening at the pride shining in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have even applied if it wasn’t for you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Vi said, pulling you into a hug. “You did this. And I can’t wait for study dates, and walking you to and from class, and complaining about professors together, and—”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I haven’t enrolled yet, Vi. Deep breaths.”

—————

“I booked a reservation at that fancy rooftop place Caitlyn told us about. I figured we deserve a night out, just us. Ekko’s staying over with Powder—don’t worry, Benzo is cool with it. So… wear that dress I like, okay? I want to show you off a little.”

—phone call from Vi to Y/n,

—————

The rooftop restaurant was beautiful, lit by strings of fairy lights that twinkle like stars. Vi had somehow snagged a table near the edge (she name-dropped Caitlyn Kiramman and the hostess got nervous), where you could see all of Piltover stretched out below you. She looked good—too good—in her black button-up, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off her tattoos and rippling muscles.

“You clean up nice,” you teased, sipping your wine that tasted like a week’s worth of groceries.

“You’re one to talk,” she shot back, her eyes shamelessly roamed over you. “That dress is illegal. I should arrest you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That line’s terrible. You shouldn’t take pickup lines from an enforcer-in-training.”

“But it worked, didn’t it?” She said with a smug grin.

The night passed in a blur of laughter and soft touches, a reminder of the easy connection you’d had before life got so hard. For the first time since you graduated and she moved to Piltover, you felt like a couple again-not just two people trying to hold everything together.

As you walked home, Vi slipped her hand into yours, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.

The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier in the evening. The streets were quieter now, the usual hustle of Piltover replaced by the soft hum of distant conversations and the occasional buzz of an airship overhead.

“You know,” Vi started, her voice thoughtful, “for two kids trying to figure out how to raise another kid, we didn’t do too bad.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “We did a pretty good job, actually. Powder is turning out great. She’s like this because of you, you know.”

“Us,” she corrected, her gaze earnest. “Powder would’ve run for the hills if it was just me.”

“You’re underselling yourself,” you said, nudging her shoulder. “You're a great big sister. She knows that now.”

Vi’s lips quirked into a soft smile, her free hand brushing over her short hair. “I guess I’ll take the compliment. But I hope you know you’re the glue. Powder and I just cling to you.”

The sincerity in her voice made your heart ache in the best way. “I do. I know.”

The building loomed ahead, its familiar stone facade dimly lit under the streetlights. As you reached the doorway, Vi stopped, turning to face you fully. Her hands found your waist, pulling you just a little closer, her thumb brushing absentmindedly over the fabric of your dress.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she murmured, her voice loud. “And I’m so proud of you. Not just for tonight—for everything. Going to college, always working so hard for Powder, you’ve been carrying all of us, and you make it look so effortless. And I don’t tell you enough how much I… love you.”

The words were warm and steady, her familiar cadence grounding you in a way that nothing else could. “You don’t have to. I feel it every day.”

Her smile softened, her eyes searching yours in the quiet of the moment. Then, slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing yours with a tenderness that took you back to the first time you kissed on the roof of her dad’s old apartment building. You melted into her touch, your hands sliding up to rest against her chest, to feel the steady beat of her heart beneath your fingertips.

The kiss deepened, a slow, deliberate exchange of all the things words couldn’t express. When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Vi rested her forehead against yours, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go home.”

And with her hand still tightly around yours, you did.

—————

“Hey, Pow! Don’t forget to set your alarm! I need you distracting her all day tomorrow so I can get the apartment ready. Time to propose!”

—phone call from Vi to Powder, June 13th, 1:43 a.m.

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

#arcane vi x reader #vi arcane #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi x reader #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #piltover's gayest

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twoplayergaymers · 3 days ago

Text

A Sign Of Affection—

Part One // Part Two// Part Three coming soon..

❋ deaf! Bakugo x Fem Interpreter! Reader

❋ Interpreting for Dynamight: How Hard Could It Be?

❋ a note before you begin:

After the lessons, every dialogue between bkg & the reader is signed and also verbally spoken simultaneously (unless stated otherwise or unless it’s in ASL gloss, it’s only signed.. lowkey I got lazy writing out the gloss) somewhat proofread, also idk if I ever specified but they’re like 24.

It’s been a few weeks since you caught Bakugo practicing his signs in his office that night. The sight stirred something warm in your chest, feelings you knew might be there but had been pushing down. You had no idea how long he’d been practicing on his own, but knowing he was doing this for you made your heart swell.

Your lunch “dates” with Bakugo have become a routine—Monday, Wednesday, Friday. On Tuesday, Thursday, and the occasional weekend, whether you’re working or not, you spend time with Talia. It’s a good system, one that keeps everyone happy. Most of all, you.

You’d gotten to know him better, comfortable enough to tease and joke with him, not missing the way his ears would tint pink, sticking out from the neck of his winter costume. Surprisingly, he’d become a little more talkative—at least, talkative for Bakugo. You do most of the talking, rambling about the stupid TikToks you see when scrolling before bed, how your favorite time of year is approaching, or how every time it snows it reminds you of making snow angels with the other kids in elementary school. He listens, head resting in his hand, nodding occasionally. He always listens.

One day, as you’re rambling on, hands flying as you speak, you catch his eyes. He’s watching you softly, his gaze intense but not unkind. For a moment, you freeze, caught off guard by the way his focus never wavers from you. It’s different from the usual Bakugo—no sarcasm, no annoyance. Just… quiet attention. Your heart skips a beat, and you clear your throat awkwardly, suddenly self-conscious under his stare.

“What?” you ask, your voice a little unsure, unsure if you’ve caught him in a moment of distraction or something more.

He leans back slightly, crossing his arms with that familiar gruffness, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “Teach me more.”

Your brow furrows. “Teach you more? What are you talking about?”

“Sign language,” he clarifies with a slight frown, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been practicing on my own, but… it’s harder without someone to help. So teach me more.”

You blink, surprised by the request. You didn’t expect him to ask, especially after all this time. “You want me to teach you more?” You repeat, feeling a little stunned.

“Yeah, unless you think I can’t handle it,” he adds, his tone rough but with a hint of something softer underneath.

You pause, feeling a smile tug at your lips. “Woooow THE Katsuki Bakugo aka greatexplosionmurdergoddynamight asking ME for help?”

He glares at you, unamused. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his attempt to act tough. “Oh, I’m serious too. The mighty Dynamight wants me to teach him how to sign? This is a day I’ll never forget,” you tease, hands dancing in the air as you laugh lightly. “okay, okay, fine!”

He nods, rolling his eyes but seemingly satisfied with your answer, and you can’t help but feel a little nervous, a little excited by the prospect of spending even more time with him in a completely new way.

“But,” you add, “we’re not just doing signs. You can’t really understand the language without knowing the culture behind it, so I’m gonna teach you about Deaf history too. You good with that?”

For a moment, he seems to hesitate, then he grunts, giving you a half-shrug. “Fine. Whatever. Just teach me.”

“Alright, then. Let’s start with something easy. You know this I’m sure. Repeat after me.” You make the sign for thank you, your fingers gently moving in front of your chin.

He watches for a moment, clearly studying your movements, and then mimics it, though with an exaggerated, almost sarcastic flair. “Thank you,” he signs, the expression on his face a mix of concentration and something close to pride.

You raise an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “You’re gonna need to tone down the ‘grumpy old man’ vibe when you do that. It’s a simple gesture, not a declaration of war.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I’ll sign however I want.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” you say, trying to hide your smile. “But if you want to be understood, maybe tone it down a notch. Sign’s all about facial expression.”

Bakugo groans, rubbing his temples. “This is gonna be a pain.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” you reassure him, still grinning. “You’re already halfway there. You were learning without me! Just try to be a little more… chill about it. You don’t have to yell at the signs to make them work.”

“I’m not yelling at the signs,” he mutters under his breath, looking as if he’s ready to start up a verbal war with the hand gestures themselves.

You can’t help but laugh, enjoying the easy camaraderie between you two. “Alright, alright. Let’s move on to something else..”

And just like that, your lunch breaks change. They’re no longer just casual moments between coworkers—they’re lessons. Every day, you help him practice new signs, dive into Deaf culture, and teach him about the history behind the language. At first, it’s awkward, but as the days pass, Bakugo’s determination shines through, and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable with him. Little by little, he’s picking it up, surprising you with how fast he learns, his focus sharper than you’d ever expected.

It feels like something more than just teaching. It feels like you’re both learning—not just language, but something deeper, something unspoken.

Some days, Bakugo doesn’t need help. He’ll quietly practice the signs you’ve gone over, occasionally glancing at his notebook and muttering under his breath, and you watch him with a soft smile. Other times, when he’s frustrated, his hands move erratically, and you gently correct him. “Remember, sign’s grammatical structure is different”

He groans but tries again, this time a little more carefully. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

Your bond grows in these moments—subtle, but noticeable. The quiet pauses in conversation aren’t uncomfortable anymore. Instead, they feel like small, private moments that neither of you need to explain. The warmth between you is growing steadily, unnoticed by anyone else but you two.

You’re getting closer, and somehow, it doesn’t feel like the inevitable disaster you might’ve expected. There’s no awkwardness, no anxiety—just a quiet understanding that this, whatever it is, is worth investing in.

Lunch breaks are still your favorite part of the day. But it’s no longer just about teaching him signs; it’s about the little moments in between. The way he chuckles under his breath when he gets a sign right, the way he quietly listens when you talk about your day, and the way his eyes follow your hands as you sign to him—intently, like you’re the only thing in the room.

And though he rarely says it out loud, you can see it in the way his confidence grows. He stops hesitating as much, his movements becoming more fluid, and the frustration he used to carry when he couldn’t get a sign right is replaced with a sense of pride when he nails one. You feel that pride too, making your heart swell.. well that and.. something else

The changes in Bakugo don’t go unnoticed. He’s still the same stubborn, hard-headed hero you met weeks ago, but there’s a gentler side to him now, one that’s more patient, more willing to learn, especially when it comes to you. The way he listens, the way he looks at you when you’re teaching him—there’s something different about it, something that makes your heart flutter unexpectedly. It’s not just admiration for his progress; there’s a deeper connection growing between the two of you, even if you’re not quite sure what to call it yet.

You’re not sure when the shift happened, but somehow, his presence doesn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. His quiet moments with you, his small smirks when you catch him in a mistake, and the soft way he signs “thank you” at the end of each session—those moments become your favorites. It’s almost intimate, the language only two of you in the office understand.

The moments consume your mind more than you care to admit. You try to convince yourself it’s just your ego at play. You’re a great teacher, after all. You tell yourself the way your heart flutters and your skin flushes when you see him genuinely smiling at himself is simply the pride of seeing your little prodigy succeed. It’s what you want to believe.

But somehow, these thoughts slip out during your rambling, and you curse yourself silently for being such a yapper. Now, across the table, Talia’s smirking at you, tapping her French manicure on the surface.

Talia raises an eyebrow, her smirk growing wider as she leans in slightly. “Girl,” she starts, her voice playful, “you are so into him.”

You freeze, suddenly self-conscious, your face going hot. “What? No, I’m not.”

She shrugs, tapping her nails again. “Sure, okay. But I’ve seen the way you talk about him, the way your eyes light up when you mention his progress. You’re practically glowing”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t help it. He’s improving so fast, and it’s just… nice to see him genuinely trying. He’s not just doing it for me, either. He’s really putting in the effort.”

Talia smirks, clearly not convinced. “Uh-huh. Sure, it’s just that. Nothing else.”

You shoot her a glare, but it doesn’t stop her teasing. “Come on, I’m not blind. I see the way you look at him. You can deny it all you want, but I know what I see.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, but the playful tone in your voice betrays you. You’re caught, and you know it

You know it, but you’ll never admit it—not even to yourself. It’s complicated, and frankly, inappropriate on so many levels. You’re his ‘teacher’ and he’s your coworker… practically your boss.

There’s a million things that can go wrong, so many that scramble around in your brain as you stare down at the cup of frozen yogurt before you

You try to focus on the cold swirl of yogurt, the way the spoon sinks into it with a soft, satisfying scoop, but your mind keeps drifting back to him—Bakugo. How everything feels so easy when you’re together, yet it’s so complicated at the same time.

You know you’re crossing lines, blurring boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. He’s your coworker, your boss, and you’re his teacher in this odd, quiet way that nobody else really understands. This is all risky, too risky for someone like you. The heart flutters and the rush of warmth you feel when he looks at you, when he smiles, aren’t supposed to mean anything. But somehow, they do.

A sigh escapes you, and you drop the spoon into the cup with a thud. What is this? What’s going on here?

You’re not sure you can keep pretending it’s nothing.

But you’re sure as hell going to try.

Talia’s voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and teasing, as she watches you play with your frozen yogurt. “You’re looking like you’re about to have an existential crisis. What’s going on in that head of yours?” She leans back in her chair, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, an amused glint in her eyes.

You glance at her, shaking your head but offering a small smile. “It’s nothing,” you murmur, but even you don’t believe it.

Talia raises an eyebrow. “Really? Because I’ve never seen you look this spaced out, don’t think I’ve ever heard you stop talking for this long” she giggles

The teasing tone is there, but you can see the curiosity in her eyes. She knows you too well, and it makes you nervous. You try to keep your voice light. “I’m just tired. Long week.”

She leans in, her expression suddenly serious “don’t lie to me, y/n. What’s going on in that cute little head?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out and you just shrug in response, trying to laugh it off.

Talia raises both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I get it. Keep your secrets. But just know, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” She takes a bite of her own frozen yogurt, leaning back in her seat as if she’s already won the conversation.

“So,” Talia begins, spoon halfway to her mouth, “you too busy wallowing in your mystery feelings to come out with me tonight?” She pops the yogurt into her mouth with dramatic flair, chewing slowly.

You roll your eyes, and a hesitant look adorns your face. “I’m not wallowing I just—”

“Uh-uh!” she cuts you off, waving her spoon at you. “You owe me, remember? You ditched me for your little project—your boy,” she says with a smirk, emphasizing the last word as if it’s a scandalous secret.

You groan. “He’s not my boy—”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe,” she interrupts again, leaning back in her chair with a triumphant grin. “But tonight? You’re mine. No excuses. 9pm. Dress real pretty.”

“Fine, you’re so lucky I love you” you say with the shake of your head, taking another bite of your frozen yogurt

And that’s how you find yourself in the dimly lit jazz bar. not what you were expecting from Talia, thinking you’d be finding yourself in some dark, crowded club with music so loud you could feel it vibrating through your bones. Her energy is so playful, so lively you could’ve almost bet she’d be in a scene like that. A bet you apparently would’ve lost.

Your fingers drum idly against the bar as you wait for her to arrive, late, per usual. The jazz music surrounding you is nice, making you hum absentmindedly. You’re about to pull out your phone and text her in all capitals that she’s late and leaving you susceptible to creeps but you hear the click of heels behind you.

Acrylic nails rake lightly along your bare shoulders, making you jump. “Hellooo, gorgeous!” Talia’s voice lilts as she slides up beside you, gesturing dramatically at your outfit. “I see you, little black dress! Lookin’ like dessert!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Flattery won’t make me forget that you’re late, as usual.”

She gasps in mock offense, clutching her chest like you’ve wounded her. “Excuse me! Fashionably late, babe. I had to give you time to get all this attention before I showed up and stole the show.”

You shove her playfully. “Yeah, yeah. I forgive you, though, because damn, my wife is sooo fine.” You drag out the last words, laughing as she strikes a pose.

“Don’t I know it,” she quips with a wink, sliding onto the stool next to you. “Now, what’s the vibe tonight? We drinking to forget, or are we scheming about your boy?”

You roll your eyes, flagging down the bartender. “Neither! You invited me out, we’re having a fun time together.” Talia arches an eyebrow, propping her chin on her hand as she studies you. “Mmmhmm.”

The bartender slides your drink across the bar with a smile, you return it and eagerly take a sip. “Stop looking at me like that. There’s nothing to say.” Her gaze doesn’t waver. “Talia! I’m serious. He’s my coworker. My.. my boss!”

“Uh-huh.” Talia’s smirk widens as she leans closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You’re telling me that you spend all your lunch breaks teaching him sign, watching him practice, and—what was it?—listening to you ramble? And you’re just coworkers?”

You groan, hiding your face behind your glass. “Why did I come here again?”

“Because you love me,” Talia says sweetly, patting your hand. “And because I’m not letting you mope around in your little apartment pretending you don’t have feelings for that man.”

“I do not—”

She holds up a manicured finger, cutting you off. “Nope. Let me finish. You’re allowed to have feelings. It’s not a crime. What’s the worst that happens? He likes you back? Shocking. Scandalous.”

You go to open your mouth again but her finger is still hanging in the air and she pushes it closer to you again, she’s not finished. “Let me be real with you baby, cause I love you. You know that. That man does not do anything he doesn’t want to do. He doesn’t do shit to be nice. Nothing. He wants you, y/n, I fucking know it”

You shake your head in disbelief, nervous smile plastered in your face “you make it sound so simple”

“That’s because it is.” Talia waves her hand as if to dismiss your doubts. “But I get it. You’re scared. You’re like a deer in the headlights of his grumpy charm. It’s cute, really. Annoying, but cute.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Dr. Phil,” you deadpan, but you can’t stop the grin tugging at your lips.

Talia lifts her drink with a wink. “Anytime, babe. Now, cheers to you, me, and your inevitable realization that you’re head over heels for Dynamight.”

You clink your glasses, the sound light and musical against the backdrop of jazz. Maybe she’s right—maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. For tonight, though, you let yourself laugh, let yourself relax, and let the music carry you away.

A few drinks and much tipsy laughter later the bartenders sliding another drink across the bar to you

“Oh? I-“ “it’s from him.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder to a man sitting on the other side of the bar.

“Ooo he’s cute!” Talia whispers, leaning closer to you as the man raises his glass in your direction. You return the gesture with the drink he sent, offering a polite smile before taking a sip and turning back to your conversation with Talia.

Minutes later, just as you’re mid-laugh at something Talia says, the same man appears beside you. He clears his throat softly, a friendly, slightly nervous smile on his face. “Excuse me, ladies. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to say hi—and I hope you’re enjoying the drink.”

Talia raises an eyebrow at you, her lips twitching into a mischievous grin. You set your glass down and smile up at him. “Thanks for the drink. That was kind of you.”

“It’s nothing, really. I just thought… well, I couldn’t help but notice your laugh from across the bar.” His smile grows a bit more confident. “It’s contagious.”

Talia nudges your arm with her elbow, and you swear you’ll never hear the end of this late.

You feel your face flush and you can’t tell if it’s from his words or the liquor, but you give a small smile back. as Talia, ever the wingwoman, leans in and whispers, “I’ll give you two some space. I’ll be right over there.” She walks away with a subtle grace, but the second she’s out of his line of sight—and firmly in yours—she shoots you a wide grin and two enthusiastic thumbs up. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing into your conversation.

“I swear I’ve seen you before..” he starts “I can’t forget a face that pretty. You’re.. on tv right? Wait don’t tell me.. I know this.. interpreting!”

You blink, caught off guard by the leap in logic. “Uh, yeah,” you admit, half-laughing. “I do some interpreting work for heroes sometimes.”

He snaps his fingers, grinning. “I knew it! You’re the one who works with Dynamight, right? That’s so cool.” His tone is earnest, though the mention of Bakugo makes your stomach flip in a way you’d rather not unpack right now.

You nod, swirling the drink in your hand to focus on something other than the sudden knot in your chest. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s, uh… an interesting gig.” You try to keep your tone light, though the thought of Bakugo lingers in the back of your mind.

The man leans on the bar, clearly intrigued. “Interesting’s an understatement. I mean, you must have stories. He’s kind of… intense, right? Like, what’s he like off-camera?”

You can’t help but smile at the question, though it’s small and guarded. “He’s… dedicated,” you say after a pause. It’s not a lie, and it feels safe enough. “Takes his work seriously.”

“Dedicated, huh?” he muses with a chuckle. “Well, I guess that’s a nice way of putting it.”

You laugh softly, sipping your drink. “Something like that.”

The conversation drifts into safer territory you learn his name is Mason, you talk about his job, your favorite drinks, his love for the jazz band currently playing—and it’s surprisingly easy. He’s charming, polite, and not pushy, which you appreciate. Still, there’s something tugging at the back of your mind, pulling you out of the moment.

Talia eventually meanders back, her arrival announced by her heels clicking against the floor. “I hate to interrupt,” she says sweetly, though the mischievous glint in her eyes says otherwise, “but I’m stealing her back for some girl talk.”

Mason doesn’t seem too fazed. “Of course. It was nice meeting you, though. Hopefully, I’ll see you around maybe not just on my tv screen?”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “Yeah, maybe.”

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Talia slides back onto the barstool, raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you into him, or was that just free drink bait?”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh. “He was nice.”

“But…?”

“But nothing,” you insist, though the teasing smile on her face tells you she doesn’t believe you.

Talia leans closer, her voice low and knowing. “It’s because he’s not him, isn’t it?”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you can’t find the words. Because you should be into mason and you’re not. The truth is, she’s absolutely right—but admitting that feels like stepping onto shaky ground you’re not ready to navigate just yet. Instead, you take another sip of your drink and let the music fill the silence.

You quickly change the subject. “Forget men what if I just marry you instead?”

“Now you’re cookin’!”

You wake up the next morning to the blaring of your phones ringtone. With a groggy “hello?” You find out you’re being called into work on your one day off this week. Great.

You drag yourself through your morning routine, repeating a mantra to keep yourself sane: It’s just one meeting. Just one. Then I can go back to bed. Shower, clothes, aspirin, keys, coffee—you’re out the door, though the dull ache in your head reminds you of last night’s decisions.

When you finally trudge into the office, you immediately feel a pair of sharp eyes on you. Katsuki’s leaning against the desk, arms crossed, with a barely-there smirk tugging at his lips.

“You look like hell,” he comments, his tone casual but undeniably amused.

“Good morning to you too,” you mutter, gripping your coffee like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” you reply, sinking into the nearest chair. “But apparently, nobody respects a day off anymore.” “Hah,” he huffs, shaking his head. “You’re too soft. Should’ve told ‘em no.”

You scoff and glance up at him, brows furrowed in annoyance “I’m YOUR interpreter you know damn well you’re the only reason I’m here”

His expression flickers for a moment—something between amusement and slight irritation—but then he leans forward slightly, resting his hands on the desk. “And you get paid for it, so quit whining.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. “You know, you could’ve sent someone else today. Let me have one day off.” “Yeah, but they’d screw it up,” he says bluntly, waving off the idea. “You’re the only one who doesn’t piss me off.”

The comment stirs something in you that you wish it wouldn’t— an overwhelming fluttering in your stomach, millions of butterflies rapidly stirring. God, it makes you feel nauseous, but you quickly push those feelings down. because it’s katsuki, that means nothing.. right?

The meeting goes by in a blur, your hands moving on autopilot, barely registering what you’re signing anymore—it’s just second nature at this point. God, you’re so exhausted.

So exhausted, you almost miss the subtle way Katsuki’s hands move to communicate with you.

TIRED, YOU?

You ball your hand into a fist, thumb resting in front of your knuckles and bend your wrist forward twice

YES!

The way you raise your eyebrows, the look on your face, ‘enthusiastic’ YES.

FOOD, OFFICE, LATER?

Lunch. He’s asking about lunch. You were gonna go straight home.. but.

YES.

You find yourself saying yes.

The meeting finally wraps up, and you both shuffle into Bakugo’s office. You’d planned on today being a half day, so you hadn’t even thought to pack a lunch. You silently hope he doesn’t bring it up, because honestly? You don’t have an excuse.

As soon as you step inside, you slump down onto the couch with a heavy sigh, the cushion swallowing you up like it’s begging you to stay. Lifting your hands, you sign lazily:

TODAY, LESSON, NONE, EXHAUSTED.

Bakugo, who’s in the middle of grabbing a water bottle from his mini fridge, glances over at you and smirks. “You look like you’ve been hit by a bus,” he mutters, twisting the cap off the bottle.

You glare at him half-heartedly, lifting your hands again “wow. Thanks, you’re so nice Bakugo!”

You’ve barely gotten the words out before Katsuki is slumping into his chair, leaning back with a heavy sigh. He raises an eyebrow at you, signing with practiced precision

LESSON, NONE? LAZY.

You narrow your eyes at him, too tired to respond with anything clever. Instead, you let out a breathy laugh, flopping your head back against the couch. “Not lazy. Tired. Huge difference.”

NOT, LAZY, TIRED, DIFFERENT

His lips twitch, not quite a smile but close enough, and he lifts his hands again. “Excuses. Weak.”

You let out a fake gasp, dramatically clutching your chest like he’s just wounded you. “Mean.”

You’re giggling to yourself and for a moment the office is filled with a comfortable silence, the type that settles when two people are at ease.

You look at him, a flash of curiosity falling over your face and you mouth opens, your hands move quicker than your brain even thinks “why don’t you want people to know?”

His brows knit together in confusion, he’s not sure if he understood you correctly. “What?.. know.. what?”

“About you” your bring your index finger and tap it on your ear, then your mouth “being deaf”

He doesn’t respond immediately, taking a second to bask in your question, his eyes fall to the floor. When he finally looks at you, there’s something raw in his expression, something he usually keeps hidden behind all his usual gruffness

“It’s not about shame” his hands move simultaneously as he speaks. “I just… I don’t want anyone thinking I’m weak. That they can use it against me. I have to be the strongest.”

You nod, letting his words settle between you. “I get that. But Deaf doesn’t mean weak, Katsuki” you use his first name without even realizing. “It’s not a weakness—it’s a part of you. And it’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words before finally signing, “It’s beautiful. There’s a whole culture, a whole community, that sees the world differently. You’re part of that, whether you realize it or not.”

His hands fall to his lap, and he studies you with an unreadable expression. “You really believe that?”

You smile softly, your hand touches the side of your forehead with the tips of the fingers ,your hand in a flat shape. “I know that.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, just lets your words linger. Then he lifts his hands again, slower this time, almost timid? “You… make me think about it different-“

He doesn’t finish his sentence, there’s a knock at the door. You glance over as an intern pops their head in, holding a bouquet of flowers so vibrant it practically lights up the dull office.

“Uh, these are for you,” they say, stepping in and handing them to you. “For me?” you ask, confused. You take the flowers, and the intern nods. “Yeah, there’s a note. Looks like your name’s on it.”

Your stomach flips as you glance down at the card tucked between the stems. You open it, reading the handwritten message:

Had a great time meeting you. Would love to see you again. Call me?

There’s a phone number scrawled underneath, and you immediately know who it’s from.

Katsuki, meanwhile, is staring at the flowers like they personally insulted him. “What the hell is that?” he doesn’t bother signing, instead speaking sharply

You feel the flush creeping on the back of your neck as your gaze breaks from the flowers “flowers.. from some guy I met last night”

His jaw tightens, and he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “Lame” he mutters while shaking his head

That earns an eyebrow raise from you. “Lame? I think it’s sweet

“It’s desperate.” He shoots back almost immediately “don’t call him.” There’s a sternness in his voice that a few weeks ago would’ve given you chills but you can’t help the laugh that flys past your lips.

“Excuse me?”

He won’t repeat himself, instead his eyes narrow and he stands up abruptly, shoving his wallet in his pocket and resuming his signing. “Come on. We’re going to lunch, my treat”

You blink up at him, caught off guard by the sudden change of pace. “What?” “You heard me,” he signs, already heading for the door. “We’re getting lunch. Now.”

You can’t help but laugh as you set the flowers down on his desk, grabbing your bag to follow him. There’s no way he’s jealous, right? but he’s definitely not thrilled about the guy from the bar…and, for some reason, you don’t mind that one bit.

The walk to the café down the block is quiet—well, mostly. Katsuki has his hands shoved into his pockets, his brow furrowed as if deep in thought. You steal a glance at him, trying to read his expression, but he’s impossible to crack.

The café is small and cozy, the kind of place that smells like fresh bread and espresso. Katsuki orders for himself without hesitation, then turns to you with a raised brow, waiting for your choice. When you tell him, he nods and adds it to the order, swiping his card before you can even think about reaching for yours.

As you settle into a booth by the window, you can’t help but notice how relaxed he looks here, away from the office and the weight of his hero persona. He’s still gruff, sure, but there’s something softer about him in this moment.

“So,” you start, signing carefully to make sure he catches every word. “What’s with the sudden lunch invite? You’re not usually this… spontaneous.”

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t read too much into it. You looked like you were about to pass out in my office. Figured food would keep you from keeling over.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, so it’s for my benefit? Not maybe because you might be.. I don’t know.. jealous of some guy from the bar?” You’re teasing, you shouldn’t be but god isn’t it fun?

His smirk falters for a split second, just long enough for you to catch it. He quickly recovers, though, leaning forward to sign, “I’m not jealous. Just don’t like idiots wasting your time.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. “Right,” you sign back, your movements slow and deliberate. “Because you get to decide who’s worth my time.”

“Damn right I do.” His hands move with a confidence that’s almost infuriating. But there’s something else there too, something unspoken that hangs heavy in the air between you.

Before you can even respond, the food arrives, breaking the tension. He begins eating without another word, and you follow suit, though your head is still spinning. There’s no way he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you…right?

You’re eating together in silence for a few long moments when you see little eyes peering over the table in your peripheral vision. You turn your head to see a little girl, she couldn’t have been older than five. Her big brown eyes bouncing between you and Katsuki like she’s starstruck.

You chuckle softly, nudging Katsuki under the table to get his attention. He glances up, confused, before following your gaze to the little girl.

“What?” he mutters, completely missing her awe-struck expression.

“You’ve got an admirer,” you tease, keeping your voice low. Katsuki frowns, but you wave him off and turn to the girl. “Hi there, sweetheart. Can I help you?”

The girl’s hands start moving as she signs, “I know you! You’re on TV! You talk when Dynamight is on tv!”

Your heart melts instantly. “That’s me,” you sign back with a warm smile. “What’s your name?”

She signs back—“Emma.”

“Hi, Emma. It’s so nice to meet you,” you sign, keeping your movements slow and clear. “Do you want to tell Dynamight something?”

Emma nods eagerly, then hesitates. “I’m deaf,” she signs shyly, looking between you and Katsuki.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” you sign back, giving her a reassuring smile. “Let me get his attention for you.”

You tap Katsuki’s arm, and when he looks up, you sign to him, “You have an admirer” You repeat. He furrows his brows in confusion but glances at Emma, his expression softening slightly when he sees her beaming up at him.

“She’s deaf,” you explain.

Katsuki raises an eyebrow but quickly switches to signing. “Hey, kid.”

Emma gasps, her jaw dropping as she stares at him in shock. “You can sign?!” she signs back, practically bouncing in place. “Oh my gosh, you’re my favorite hero! I didn’t know Dynamight could sign!”

Katsuki huffs, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Course I can sign,” he replies. “How else am I supposed to talk to cool kids like you?”

Emma giggles, her eyes sparkling with admiration. She leans closer, signing quickly, “My mom says I can’t have Dynamight toys because they’re for boys, but I don’t care! You’re still my favorite!”

Katsuki’s eyebrows furrow, and he signs back immediately, “That’s dumb. Dynamight’s for everyone. Tell your mom I said so.”

Emma giggles even harder, glancing back at her mom, who’s watching nervously from across the café.

“Do you fight bad guys every day?” Emma asks, her little hands moving excitedly. Katsuki smirks. “Pretty much. But they’re not as tough as me.”

“You’re so cool! Can I be a hero like you one day?”

Katsuki leans forward slightly, his gaze steady and serious. “Yeah, you can. But only if you promise to work hard. No slacking off.” Emma nods so enthusiastically you’re sure she’s going to tumble over. “I promise!”

You can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest as you watch them. Katsuki, for all his rough edges, is handling this so naturally.

“Thanks for talking to me,” Emma signs after a few more moments of chatting. “You’re the best hero ever!”

Katsuki grins faintly, his hand ruffling her hair briefly. “Go tell your mom you’re cool now ‘cause you met Dynamight. Emma giggles again, waving goodbye to both of you before running back to her table. Her mom mouths a thank you to you, and you nod politely.

“She was adorable,” you say, turning back to Katsuki. “Tch. Kids are annoying,” he grumbles, though there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he picks up his drink.

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “You’re good with them, you know.”

“Whatever,” he mutters, but his ears are a little red.

You toss onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you as sleep continues to evade you. Your mind drifts back to the scene at the café, playing it over and over again—Katsuki sitting there, so naturally at ease with that little girl, his sharp eyes softening, his movements fluid and comforting. The way he spoke to her, so effortlessly kind, so… genuine.

Your face flushes at the memory, a quiet warmth spreading across your chest. And, of course, he’s fucking good with kids. He’s everything—strong, confident, and… that kindness.. in the way that katsuki can be kind. You can’t help but think about the way he told Emma, the young girl at the café, that she could be a hero—despite her deafness. How he made her feel seen, empowered, strong.

But then, why did he act so differently when it came to himself? Why did he view his own deafness as something to be hidden, something that made him weaker? That’s what he had said, after all—a weakness—when you asked him why he didn’t want anyone to know. And you can’t help but frown, confusion tightening in your chest.

It’s not a weakness at all… not like he thinks. You know that, deep down. Deafness doesn’t make you less—it’s part of who you are. And yet, here he is—someone so capable, so strong, so undeniably powerful—acting like it’s something to hide, something to shy away from.

Why couldn’t he see what you saw? How empowering it could be, how beautiful. How much it could mean to others to have someone like him—someone so fierce—representing that strength.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, and you shake your head, rolling over onto your other side. Why does he get it for someone else but not for himself?

The frustration eats away at you because Katsuki Bakugo has always been someone who’s never cared what anyone thinks, someone who’s been proud to stand alone, to prove he’s the strongest, to fight for what he believes in without hesitation. So why now? Why does he suddenly feel the need to hide parts of himself from the world?

That’s what gnaws at you—this contradiction in him. He’s fearless, bold, and unapologetically driven… so why, with this, does he shrink away, like it’s something to be hidden or kept separate? You know it’s not shame.

The thought lingers, burning in your mind as you shift restlessly in bed. It gnaws at you—how easy it was for him to tell Emma she could be a hero with her deafness, while he himself clings to the idea that it would make him be seen as less. it doesn’t make sense! Not with someone like him. It’s not about what others think—it’s about what he thinks… and what he’s been telling himself.

You wake up the next morning with a start, blindly feeling around your bed for your phone and when you see the time your stomach drops—you’re late. So late. Of course, after all the tossing and turning you did last night, you didn’t double-check your alarms.

If you’re going to make it only five minutes late, you’ll have to skip breakfast. You throw on clothes, shove whatever else you can into your bag, and practically sprint out of your apartment. With any luck, no one will even notice your absence.

When you finally sneak your way into the office, it’s swarming with press. You make a beeline upstairs, dropping your things at your desk and scanning the chaos for someone who can explain what’s going on. Your confusion must be plastered on your face because a passing intern mumbles, “Last-minute press conference,” as they rush by.

You nod in understanding, silently cursing the timing. Of course today, when you look like you got ready in five minutes—because you did—is the day you’re interpreting on live television.

You barely have a second to process the chaos before someone’s calling your name, a frazzled assistant waving you over. “Y/n! We’re live in five!”

Perfect. Just what you needed. You rush to a mirror, smoothing down your hair and attempting to make yourself look somewhat presentable. There’s no fixing the bags under your eyes or the crease in your shirt, but you do your best.

By the time you make it downstairs to the press area, Katsuki’s already standing at the podium, arms crossed and his usual scowl plastered on his face. His sharp eyes flicker to you the moment you walk in, and you swear you see the faintest hint of amusement in them.

“’Bout time,” he mutters under his breath as you take your spot across from him, beside the speaker for the agency. You shoot him a glare and roll your eyes. You don’t even have time for some witty remark, you’re frantically trying to smooth down your shirt.

As the cameras start rolling and the reporters quiet down, you slip into work mode, your hands moving fluidly as you translate his speech. But in the back of your mind, you can’t stop thinking about how, even now, he’s managing to get under your skin. And, annoyingly, how much you don’t mind.

Your distraction is evident, the signs are messy and your brains all over the place, there’s a pause in dialogue as the audience is directed to view something on the screen and you take a breath, so frazzled you almost missed Bakugo trying to get your attention off camera

RELAX

he signs, his expression calm but firm, his sharp eyes meeting yours. You start to shake your head as if to say I can’t, I’ve barely had time to breathe and I look like I barely slept

And it’s like he reads your mind.

YOU, PRETTY.

you practically choke on air, as you watch him, You try to keep your composure because—oh, right—you’re still live. Your heartbeat quickens as his hands move one more time, his gaze steady.

ALWAYS.

He looks away with a smug expression his face unreadable to anyone else, but the moment feels unbearably intimate—more than you want it to be. His message is meant just for you, spoken in a language only the two of you in the room understand.

But you don’t have time to unpack that right now, you’re working. You take a breath, as much as his words stirred up the most confusing emotions they also comforted you, you’re fine. This is the job you love, the job you’re great at.

The press conference ends without any further hiccups, your hands moving fluidly through the signs as you finish the broadcast. You can feel Bakugo’s presence, and while you’d never admit it, the occasional glances he throws your way seem to steady you more than anything else.

As the room clears out and the camera lights dim, you exhale a sigh of relief, rubbing your temples. You don’t even notice Bakugo stepping closer until he’s right next to you, arms crossed, an unreadable look on his face.

“You good now?” he asks, his tone softer than you expected, though he still looks more smug than concerned.

“I’m fine,” you reply, a bit defensive, standing straighter. “It’s just… it’s been a morning.”

“Tch, no kidding,” he mutters before his eyes narrow slightly. “But you pulled it together.”

You glance at him, surprised by the unexpected compliment. “Thanks, I guess.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he signs, slow and deliberate, like he wants you to really pay attention.

YOU, STRONG. ALWAYS.

You feel your heart skip a beat, your mind replaying the earlier moment from the press conference. He doesn’t look away this time, holding your gaze like he’s daring you to argue.

And you want to. You want to tell him you don’t feel strong right now, that everything’s a mess, that he can’t just say things like that and expect you to be fine. But you can’t. The intensity in his eyes stops you.

Instead, you swallow thickly and sign back: THANK YOU.

He gives a small nod, satisfied, before turning and walking toward the door. Just before he leaves, he throws over his shoulder, “Don’t be late again.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself throwing you hands up to sign a quick, “Thanks for the pep talk, boss.”

You don’t need to see his face to know he’s smirking as he leaves.

And you hate the way that smirk affects you because you know he knows he’s pretty, and you know he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. It’s infuriating. That stupid, cocky grin lingers in your mind even after he’s gone, making your blood boil and your chest tighten all at once.

You slump back into your chair, running a hand down your face. It’s exhausting, being around him. Not just because of the work or the constant press conferences, but because he has this way of getting under your skin in ways you didn’t even think were possible.

It’s not fair. It’s him. Katsuki Bakugo. The man who scowls at everything, talks like every word is a challenge, and somehow still manages to have moments where he’s thoughtful, protective, and… sweet? Ugh. You hate it.

You hate how he’s in your head. But the worst part?

You’re starting to think he knows that, too.

—

A/n: yayy pt 2 finally! Part 3 coming soon (next few days!)

Tags: @poemeater @beebunsx @mimzyu @beabamboo

#shut up haley!#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #deaf bakugo #bakugou x reader

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ang3lofdivinity · 2 days ago

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Warning: Lightly suggestive, can be seen as romantic or platonic.. BUTTTT…

I’m thinking about Calypso!Reader having some mermaid features whenever they got into the water.

The first time Jinx saw you step into the water, her jaw nearly hit the sand.

She’d been lazing on the rocky shore of your secluded island, sharpening her knife while keeping half an eye on you; because she always kept at least half an eye on you. You were fascinating, after all, with your calm demeanor, the way you hummed while walking barefoot across the sand, the way you somehow made her forget the chaos screaming in her head.

But when you waded into the shallows and the sunlight caught the iridescent scales creeping up your legs, Jinx FROZE. Her knife clattered to the ground.

You turned back to look at her, the water lapping gently at your thighs, and tilted your head in question.

“Something wrong?”

Jinx’s eyes widened, completely dumbfounded by your question. How the hell are you still acting so calm?

“What the hell is this?” she shouted, gesturing wildly toward you.

You blinked, then glanced down at yourself. The scales shimmered faintly in the sun, a mix of blues and greens like the ocean itself had gifted you its colors.

“Oh,” you said, as if this were the most casual thing in the world.

“This happens sometimes. When I’m in the water.”

Jinx was on her feet in seconds, sprinting toward the shoreline with a manic glint in her eye.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were part fish, toots?!”

“Because I’m not part fish,” you replied with a small laugh.

“It’s… complicated. Let’s just say the ocean likes me.”

The waves seemed to agree, brushing against your skin like they couldn’t bear to part from you. The wind picked up too, tugging at your hair as if to remind you it was part of your power, too.

Jinx, now up to her knees in the water, leaned in close, her gaze darting over your scales.

“Can you breathe underwater? Do you, like, grow a tail?”

You smiled at her excitement.

“You’ll figure it out eventually. When I tell you. Or, even show you if I feel nice enough.”

“That’s boring thoughhh!!” Jinx said, poking one of the scales on your arm with a curious finger.

Before you could reply, Jinx grabbed your hand and tugged you further into the water. The waves surged higher around your waist, and with every step, the scales spread further across your skin. It was as if the ocean itself was calling you home.

Jinx watched with rapt attention, her usual chaos momentarily subdued.

“Do something cool,” she urged.

Rolling your eyes, you motioned with a finger to let the wind swirl around you, sending ripples across the water. Then, with a flick of your wrist, the ocean rose in a small arc, splashing Jinx full in the face.

She sputtered, then burst into laughter, water dripping from her hair.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, though the grin on her face betrayed how much fun she was having.

“You asked for it,” you replied, your tone light.

Jinx’s laughter softened, and she studied you with a rare gentleness in her eyes.

“Seriously, you really are a goddess. Never knew about this before..”

You felt a warmth in your chest at her words, though you tried to brush it off.

“I’m just me,” you said, stepping closer to her.

Jinx tilted her head, her grin returning, sharper now.

“Yeah, but ‘just you’ is my favorite thing I’ve ever found.”

. . .

“Do the scales also appear on your neck? Waist? Your—“

“Okay, enough questions for today about this!”

“BUT I’M CURIOUS!!”

Calypso!Reader and Jinx masterlist.

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pinkmoontaco · 24 hours ago

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Crossroads of Fate || Bangchan

Pairing: Idol Bangchan X Songwriter Y/n Genre: Romance/Angst Plot: BangChan reunites with his first love, now an award-winning songwriter, when Stray Kids is assigned one of her songs for their comeback. As they collaborate, old feelings resurface, but both struggle with the changes fame and time have brought to their lives. With conflicting schedules, unresolved past conflicts, and the pressures of being in the public eye, they must decide if their love story deserves a second chance. Author's Note: Please give it lots of love and support! Don’t forget to leave your thoughts and comments—they mean so much to me and help me improve. Your feedback and encouragement keep me motivated to keep writing. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me. Love you guys. And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other groups

The studio was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft glow of the soundboard. Bang Chan leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the desk as he studied the empty monitor. Deadlines loomed like storm clouds, but his mind was elsewhere. The announcement of their next comeback track had sent waves of excitement through the team, but for Chan, it carried an unexpected weight.

It wasn’t just any song.

The songwriter’s name had been highlighted in bold letters on the file his manager handed him a week ago. Y/N. A name he hadn’t spoken aloud in years, but one that lingered in his memory like a melody he couldn’t forget.

“Hyung?” Han’s voice broke through Chan’s thoughts as he peeked into the room. “We’re heading out for dinner. You coming?”

Chan shook his head. “Not tonight. I have to prep for tomorrow.”

Han shrugged but didn’t push further. “Don’t overwork yourself,” he said before disappearing down the hallway.

Chan sighed, glancing at the clock. Tomorrow’s meeting wasn’t just about the song—it was a reunion with the person who had written it. A person he hadn’t seen since she’d walked out of his life all those years ago.

The next day, the conference room buzzed with energy. The entire Stray Kids lineup sat around the long table, chatting excitedly about the new track. Chan, however, remained quieter than usual, fiddling with a pen in his hand.

The door opened, and all eyes turned toward the figure stepping inside.

Y/N.

She looked different, yet the same. Her posture was confident, her expression calm, but Chan caught the faint flicker of hesitation in her gaze. She scanned the room, pausing briefly when her eyes met his. It was just a second—long enough to stir the ache in his chest that he thought he’d buried.

“Thank you all for having me,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with nervous energy. “I’ve been a fan of your work, and I’m excited to collaborate on this project.”

The members greeted her warmly, breaking the ice with their usual lighthearted banter. Chan stayed silent, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

As the meeting progressed, Y/N explained the inspiration behind the song. Her words were professional, but to Chan, every lyric she described felt like a reflection of their shared past. He wondered if the others noticed or if he was the only one reading between the lines.

When the meeting ended, the members filed out, leaving Chan and Y/N alone in the room.

“You’ve come a long way,” she said, breaking the silence.

“So have you,” he replied, his voice softer than he intended.

For a moment, they stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

“About the song—” Chan started, but she cut him off.

“Let’s keep it professional,” Y/N said quickly, her tone firm but not unkind. “It’s better that way.”

Chan nodded, though her words stung. “Right. Professional.”

As she walked out, leaving him alone with his thoughts, Chan couldn’t help but wonder if working together would be their chance to reconcile or if it would only deepen the distance between them.

Chan lingered in the now-empty conference room, staring at the notes Y/N had left on the whiteboard. The melody she'd described echoed in his mind. It was haunting yet beautiful—so distinctly her. His fingers itched to bring it to life, but a heavier thought weighed him down.

“Let’s keep it professional.”

Her words replayed in his mind like a broken record. After all these years, was that really all they could be?

The door creaked open, breaking his spiral of thoughts. Seungmin poked his head in, his usual deadpan expression in place.

“Hyung, we’re all in the practice room. Y/N noona said she’d stop by after she checks something with the staff,” he said casually.

“Noona, huh?” Chan muttered, half-smiling.

“Isn’t she older than you? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to call her?” Seungmin said with a shrug. “She’s cool, though. Don’t be weird about it.”

Chan chuckled despite himself. “I’m not being weird.”

“You’re always weird.”

“Get out of here before I make you practice alone,” Chan shot back, though his tone was playful. Seungmin left with a smirk, and Chan finally pushed himself out of his chair, grabbing his notebook and heading for the practice room.

Y/N stood just outside the room, scrolling through her phone as Chan approached. She looked up when she sensed his presence.

“Heading to practice?” she asked, keeping her tone light.

“Yeah. You’re coming in, right?” he replied, holding the door open for her.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Just to observe. I don’t want to interrupt.”

Inside, the members were in their usual chaotic state. Minho was leaning against the mirrors, chatting with Jeongin, while Han and Hyunjin playfully fought over whose choreography idea was better. The moment Y/N stepped in, the room seemed to shift.

“Noona!” Han called out cheerfully, waving her over. “You’re here! Come judge our moves.”

Hyunjin grinned, brushing his hair back dramatically. “I already know noona’s going to pick me. I’m the main dancer after all.”

“Don’t embarrass yourselves,” Minho teased, smirking as he leaned against the mirror. “Noona just got here.”

Y/N blinked, slightly taken aback by their easy familiarity, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “You guys are a lively bunch.”

“Always,” Jeongin said with a bright smile. “Noona, don’t listen to Hyunjin. He’s all talk.”

Chan leaned against the doorway, watching the interaction unfold. It was strange seeing Y/N in this setting, surrounded by his members and fitting in so seamlessly. He’d always imagined how she might’ve interacted with them if things had been different.

“Alright, let’s get to it,” Chan finally said, clapping his hands to gather their attention. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

As practice began, Y/N took a seat in the corner, observing with quiet focus. She occasionally scribbled notes into her notebook, but her gaze often drifted toward Chan.

He was in his element, leading the group with his usual mix of authority and warmth. His movements were sharp, his voice steady as he gave instructions. It reminded her of the boy she’d known back then—the one who dreamed of standing on stages but always made time to support her dreams, too.

“Noona, what do you think?” Hyunjin called out after a particularly intricate run-through of the choreography.

Y/N glanced up, realizing all eyes were on her. She cleared her throat. “It’s good. Clean, but…”

“But?” Han pressed, grinning.

“I think you can hit the beats a bit sharper here,” she said, gesturing to a specific section. “It’ll match the vibe of the song better.”

The group murmured their agreement, nodding thoughtfully.

“See, I told you she’s good,” Jeongin whispered to Hyunjin, who rolled his eyes.

Chan approached her during a break, holding out a water bottle. “They’re taking to you well,” he said.

She accepted the bottle with a small smile. “They’re a good group. Talented, too. You’ve done well with them.”

“They’re the ones who make it easy,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her. “You… You’ve done well for yourself, too. Your name’s everywhere these days.”

She laughed softly, a sound that tugged at his heart. “It’s different from what I thought I’d be doing, but I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Is that what you call it? Peace?”

Y/N’s smile faltered. She glanced away, pretending to focus on the members as they joked with one another. “It’s what I’ve chosen.”

Before Chan could respond, Han called out, “Hyung! Stop hogging noona and get back here. We need your opinion.”

Chan sighed but gave her a small nod. “We’re not done talking,” he said quietly before walking away.

Y/N watched him go, her chest tightening. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to have that conversation—if she could face the memories she’d locked away for so long.

But one thing was clear: being around Bang Chan again was stirring feelings she thought she’d buried for good.

The room was alive with laughter as the members continued to practice, but Bang Chan’s focus was elsewhere. He watched Y/N from across the room, noting the way her gaze lingered on the group with a mix of pride and nostalgia. It was a look he recognized—one she’d often worn back when their lives were simpler, before the weight of their choices had pulled them apart.

Her voice was still ringing in his ears: “It’s what I’ve chosen.”

The words triggered something in him, unlocking a door he hadn’t dared open in years.

Flashback: The Trainee Days

“Chan, you’re gonna blow the speakers if you keep cranking it up like that!” Y/N’s voice broke through the pounding bass, laughter lacing her words. She leaned against the doorway of the small practice room, her arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“Sorry, noona,” Chan said sheepishly, reaching for the volume knob. “I was just trying to get the bass to match the melody.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping inside with the casual ease of someone who practically lived there. Her hoodie was too big, her hair tied in a messy bun, but to Chan, she looked perfect.

“You’re such a perfectionist,” she teased, plopping down beside him on the floor. “Not everything has to be perfect, you know. Sometimes it’s the flaws that make it special.”

“Easy for you to say,” he replied, grinning. “Your vocals are always flawless. Meanwhile, I’m over here trying to make sure my beats don’t sound like garbage.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re too hard on yourself, Chan. You’re better than you think.”

Her words always had a way of grounding him, of making him believe in himself even when self-doubt threatened to take over. It was one of the many reasons he’d fallen for her.

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound coming from the faint hum of the equipment. Then, she broke it.

“Do you ever think about what it’ll be like? When we debut?”

“All the time,” Chan admitted. “But it’s scary, too. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we don’t make it?”

“You will,” she said firmly. “I know you will. You’re too talented, too driven not to.”

He turned to look at her, the sincerity in her eyes almost overwhelming. “What about you?” he asked quietly.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know,” she said after a long pause. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for this. The competition, the pressure… it’s a lot.”

“You’re cut out for it,” he said, his voice steady. “You’ve got everything it takes, noona. Don’t let anyone make you doubt that.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Chan.”

They didn’t need to say more. The silence that followed was comfortable, the kind that only came with understanding and trust.

But looking back, Chan would always remember that moment—the moment he realized how much she meant to him, and how terrified he was of losing her.

Back to the Present

“Hyung, you good?” Felix’s voice jolted Chan back to the present.

“Huh?” He blinked, realizing he’d been staring into space.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Felix said with a concerned smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Chan said quickly, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Just… thinking.”

“About noona?” Han teased, leaning on Felix’s shoulder with a mischievous grin. “You’ve been stealing glances at her all day.”

Chan shot him a warning look, but it was too late. The rest of the members had caught on, and the teasing began in earnest.

“Hyung’s got history with noona, doesn’t he?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Tell us, tell us!” Jeongin chimed in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Chan groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can we focus on practice, please?”

The members laughed but let it go, and Chan stole another glance at Y/N. She was focused on her notebook, oblivious to the chaos around her.

He wondered if she remembered that night in the practice room as vividly as he did. Or if, for her, it was just another forgotten chapter in a story she’d already moved on from.

The members were busy working on a choreography run-through, giving Bang Chan a moment to slip out of the practice room unnoticed. His chest felt tight, his emotions tangled as his thoughts drifted further into the past. He leaned against the hallway wall, staring at the ceiling as memories flooded his mind.

Flashback: The Night She Left

It was late—past midnight, though neither of them seemed to care. The JYP building was silent except for the faint creak of the floors and the hum of fluorescent lights. Chan had texted Y/N to meet him in the practice room, and now he stood there, pacing, waiting for her to arrive.

When the door finally opened, she stepped in, her usual bright expression subdued. The oversized hoodie she wore dwarfed her frame, and her hair was tucked under a cap as if she were trying to disappear.

“Hey,” she said softly, closing the door behind her.

“Hey,” Chan replied, though his voice was tinged with unease. He stopped pacing, turning to face her. “What’s going on? You sounded… weird in your text.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. “I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chan’s stomach churned. He had known her long enough to recognize the look in her eyes—the way her walls were slowly going up, shutting him out.

“Okay,” he said cautiously. “Talk to me.”

She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling as if bracing herself for impact. “I’m leaving, Chan.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “Leaving? What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m quitting the trainee program,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m not debuting. I can’t do this anymore.”

Chan stared at her, disbelief written all over his face. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best trainees here! Everyone knows that. Why would you—”

“It doesn’t matter how good I am,” she interrupted, her tone sharp but pained. “This life… it’s not for me, Chan. The endless hours, the pressure, the constant comparisons… I can’t keep up. I thought I could, but I was wrong.”

“But you’ve worked so hard,” he argued, his voice rising in desperation. “You’ve been here longer than almost anyone! You’ve sacrificed so much—why give up now?”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. “Because I’m tired, Chan. Tired of feeling like I’m never enough. Tired of pretending I’m okay when I’m not.”

Chan took a step closer, his heart racing. “You are enough, Y/N. You’ve always been enough. If you’re struggling, we can figure it out together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her gaze softened at his words, but she shook her head. “You don’t get it. You’re different, Chan. You thrive here. This is where you’re meant to be. But me? I feel like I’m suffocating.”

He clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling over. “So that’s it? You’re just… walking away? From everything? From me?”

Her breath hitched, and for the first time, her composure cracked. “Don’t make this harder than it already is,” she pleaded. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I need to find a life where I can breathe again.”

Chan felt a lump rise in his throat, but he swallowed it down. “When?” he asked quietly.

“Tomorrow,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“Tomorrow?” His voice broke. “You weren’t even going to tell me until now?”

“I didn’t know how,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I knew you’d try to stop me, and I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t face you.”

Chan closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. When he opened them again, they were filled with pain. “Do you know how much I care about you?” he asked, his voice raw. “Do you even realize what you’re walking away from?”

Her lip quivered, but she stood her ground. “I care about you too, Chan. More than you know. But that’s why I have to leave. If I stay, I’ll only drag you down with me.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Goodbye, Chan,” she said finally, her voice breaking.

And just like that, she walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, his heart shattered into pieces.

Back to the Present

Chan let out a shaky breath, rubbing his hands over his face. Even after all these years, the memory of that night still stung like an open wound. He had tried to move on, to bury the pain and focus on his dreams. But seeing Y/N again had brought everything rushing back.

He pushed off the wall, forcing himself to return to the practice room. When he walked in, the members were laughing about something Y/N had said. She looked up as he entered, her smile fading slightly when their eyes met.

Chan forced a small smile, but inside, he felt like he was standing at a crossroads again.

This time, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive losing her twice.

Y/N sat in the corner of the practice room, her notebook balanced on her lap. The sounds of Stray Kids rehearsing filled the space around her—an intricate mix of synchronized movements and playful banter that reminded her why she had loved this world once.

Her pen hovered above the page, but her thoughts were far from the notes she was supposed to be taking. Every time her gaze flickered to Bang Chan, her chest tightened with a mix of emotions she couldn’t name.

How does he do it? she wondered. How does he still look so steady, so sure of himself, after all these years?

She didn’t regret leaving—not exactly. But being here, in the same room as him, made her question everything she’d told herself since that night.

Flashback: After She Left

The day she walked away from the trainee program, Y/N felt like a ghost. She had packed her things in silence, avoiding the eyes of the friends she’d made and the staff who had believed in her. She couldn’t bear their questions, their pity, or the disappointment that would surely follow.

When she stepped outside the JYP building for what she knew would be the last time, the air felt colder, sharper. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—Chan’s name lighting up the screen.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Instead, she turned off her phone and slipped it into her bag, hoping the silence would numb the ache in her chest.

For weeks, she avoided looking at anything related to JYP, idol groups, or the industry altogether. She threw herself into other pursuits, trying to fill the void that music had left behind. But no matter how hard she tried, the memories lingered.

She missed the late-night practices, the camaraderie, the way her heart would race when she stepped into a recording booth. And more than anything, she missed him.

I did the right thing, she told herself every time the doubts crept in. I wasn’t strong enough for that life.

But even as the years passed and her career as a songwriter began to flourish, the guilt never fully disappeared.

Back to the Present

“Y/N noona, what do you think?” Han’s cheerful voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She blinked, realizing that the group had finished their run-through and were now looking at her expectantly.

“It’s good,” she said quickly, sitting up straighter. “Really good. But I think you could emphasize the transitions more—make them feel smoother so they match the flow of the song.”

The members nodded thoughtfully, murmuring to each other about adjustments they could make.

“Good catch, noona,” Hyunjin said with a grin. “You’ve got a sharp eye.”

Y/N smiled faintly, her heart warming at their easy acceptance of her. It felt strange, being called “noona” by a group of idols who had risen to international stardom. She admired their talent, their passion, and the bond they clearly shared.

But her gaze kept drifting back to Chan.

He was quieter than she remembered, his playful energy tempered by a calm maturity that suited him. Yet beneath his composure, she could sense the tension—like he was holding back words he didn’t know how to say.

During a break, she slipped out of the practice room, needing a moment to herself. The hallway was empty, and she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath.

Her mind wandered back to their conversation earlier:

“You’ve come a long way.”

“So have you.”

The way he’d looked at her—like he was trying to piece together who she was now—made her chest ache. She had wanted to tell him everything: how much she had missed him, how often she’d thought about him, and how hard it had been to walk away.

But she couldn’t. Not now.

The sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. She opened her eyes to find Chan standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

He hesitated, then took a step closer. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend everything’s fine when it’s not,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers. “I know you, Y/N. Better than you think.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, all the walls she’d built around herself felt like they might crumble.

“Chan…” she started, her voice faltering.

He waited, his patience unwavering. But before she could say more, the sound of someone calling his name echoed down the hallway.

“Hyung, we need you!”

Chan sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll be right there!” he called back.

When he turned back to her, his expression softened. “This isn’t over,” he said quietly.

And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone with the weight of everything she couldn’t bring herself to say.

Y/N stood frozen in the hallway long after Chan had gone. His words echoed in her mind: “This isn’t over.”

She wanted to believe him. Part of her even wanted to let herself hope that they could go back to the way things were before she’d walked away. But the years had changed them both, and she wasn’t sure if they were still the same people who had sat in that small practice room late at night, sharing their dreams and fears.

She sighed, shaking her head as if to clear it. Focus on work, Y/N. That’s why you’re here.

Squaring her shoulders, she headed back to the practice room. When she entered, the members were scattered across the floor, catching their breath after another run-through.

“Noona, you’re back!” Jeongin called out, grinning.

“Of course,” she replied, forcing a smile. “You didn’t think I’d leave without finishing, did you?”

“Never,” Han teased. “But you did miss Chan hyung trying to demonstrate a move and almost falling flat on his face.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Y/N’s gaze instinctively found Chan. He was sitting on the floor, a water bottle in hand, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Don’t listen to them,” he said, looking at her with a lopsided smile. “I was fine.”

Y/N arched a brow, her playful side slipping through despite herself. “You sure? Should I call a medic?”

The members laughed even harder, and Chan shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him. “No need, noona. I’ll survive.”

For a moment, the tension between them seemed to ease, replaced by a warmth that felt almost familiar.

Practice wrapped up just as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Y/N gathered her things, preparing to leave, when a voice stopped her.

“Y/N.”

She turned to see Chan standing by the doorway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. The others had already left, leaving them alone in the room.

“Walk with me?” he asked, his tone careful, almost hesitant.

Y/N hesitated, her instinct to say no warring with the part of her that longed to talk to him. Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”

They walked in silence at first, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallway. The building was quiet now, a stark contrast to the lively energy of earlier.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Chan began, breaking the silence.

Y/N glanced at him, her brow furrowing. “What I said?”

“About how you’ve changed,” he clarified. “How this isn’t your world anymore.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s true. I’ve been out of it for so long… I don’t think I’d even know how to fit back in.”

“You don’t have to fit back in,” he said gently. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t belong here.”

Y/N stopped walking, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. “Chan, I left because I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t strong enough. You don’t understand—”

“I do understand,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “Do you think I haven’t felt that way? That I haven’t questioned if I’m good enough or strong enough to keep going?”

She looked at him, startled by the raw vulnerability in his expression.

“We all have those moments,” he continued. “But you didn’t leave because you were weak, Y/N. You left because you were brave enough to choose what you needed, even if it hurt.”

His words hit her harder than she expected, and she had to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.

“I missed you,” she admitted softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Chan’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer. “I missed you too.”

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions. Y/N wanted to say so much—to explain, to apologize, to tell him how often she’d thought about him. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Do you regret it?” Chan asked suddenly.

She looked at him, her breath catching. “Regret what?”

“Leaving,” he said quietly.

She hesitated, the answer swirling in her mind. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But if I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be who I am now. And I wouldn’t be standing here, talking to you.”

Chan nodded slowly, his gaze searching hers. “Maybe it was meant to happen this way,” he said. “Maybe we needed time to grow on our own before we could find each other again.”

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, but this time, it wasn’t a painful ache—it was something softer, something that felt like hope.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

They stood there for a moment longer, the space between them charged with possibilities. And for the first time in years, Y/N allowed herself to believe that second chances might be worth taking.

The walk back to the dorms was quieter, yet the silence felt different now—less like avoidance and more like understanding. Bang Chan walked beside Y/N, their steps falling into an unspoken rhythm. Neither of them said much, but the air between them felt heavier with emotions they weren’t ready to voice.

As they reached the building’s entrance, Chan hesitated, his hand hovering near the door handle. “Do you want to come in? The others are still up, probably goofing around.”

Y/N gave a soft laugh. “I don’t know if I have the energy to deal with their endless teasing tonight.”

“They’ve already started calling you ‘noona’ like it’s a badge of honor,” Chan said, smiling. “You’ll never escape it now.”

Her lips curved into a small smile. “It’s kind of nice, though,” she admitted. “They remind me of... well, of us back then.”

Chan’s smile faltered slightly, the mention of the past tugging at something deep within him. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “They’ve got that same fire we used to have. But don’t sell yourself short—you still have it too.”

Y/N shook her head, looking away. “I don’t know about that.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of laughter from inside the dorm interrupted him. The door swung open, revealing Han and Seungmin, who froze when they saw them standing there.

“Hyung! Noona!” Han exclaimed, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “What’s this? A secret meeting?”

“Late-night date, maybe?” Seungmin chimed in, his deadpan delivery making it even funnier.

“Knock it off,” Chan said, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the faint blush creeping up his neck.

Y/N laughed, the warmth in her chest pushing away the heaviness that had been sitting there all day. “If this is how you treat all your guests, I’m surprised anyone visits.”

“Only the special ones, noona,” Han quipped, winking at her.

“Go inside,” Chan ordered, shooing them back into the dorm.

As they retreated, still chuckling, Chan turned back to Y/N. “You sure you don’t want to come in? They’d love having you around.”

Y/N hesitated. A part of her wanted to join them, to let herself be swept up in their youthful energy and forget about everything else. But another part of her—the part that still carried the weight of the past—wasn’t sure if she was ready.

“Not tonight,” she said finally, her tone soft. “But... maybe another time.”

Chan nodded, his expression understanding. “Take your time,” he said. “We’ll be here.”

Later That Night

Y/N sat in her small apartment, staring at the blank notebook in front of her. The melody she’d been working on earlier was still stuck in her head, but the words wouldn’t come.

Her mind kept drifting back to Chan—his voice, his smile, the way he’d looked at her like he was still trying to understand why she’d left.

She sighed, setting the notebook aside. The memories were too loud tonight, refusing to be ignored.

Flashback: The First Goodbye

The airport was crowded, the hum of activity a stark contrast to the stillness Y/N felt inside. Her suitcase sat at her feet, and her plane ticket was clutched tightly in her hand.

She’d made the decision to leave Korea and start fresh abroad, hoping that distance would help her figure out who she was without the weight of the trainee life she’d abandoned.

Chan had shown up unannounced, his face flushed from running through the terminal.

“You weren’t going to tell me you were leaving the country?” he’d asked, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“I thought it would be easier this way,” she’d said, unable to meet his eyes.

“Easier for who?” he’d demanded, his hurt bleeding into anger. “For you? Because it sure as hell isn’t easier for me!”

Y/N had felt the tears welling up, but she’d forced herself to stay calm. “Chan, I can’t stay here. Every corner of this city feels like a reminder of everything I failed at.”

“You didn’t fail,” he’d said, his voice softening. “You just… chose a different path.”

She’d shaken her head, unwilling to let him comfort her. “I need this, Chan. I need to figure out who I am without this life. Without…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, but he understood.

“Without me,” he’d said quietly, the pain in his voice cutting through her like a knife.

She’d wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he was the only part of her life she’d ever been sure of. But she didn’t. Instead, she’d stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a hug that felt more like a goodbye than she’d intended.

“I’m sorry,” she’d whispered.

When she’d pulled back, his eyes were red, but he didn’t say anything else. He’d just watched as she picked up her suitcase and walked away.

Back to the Present

Y/N wiped at her eyes, surprised to find tears there. The memory of that day still haunted her, and being around Chan again had only brought it all back.

But as painful as it was, it also made her realize something: she wasn’t as far away from that world as she thought.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to find her place in it again.

The next day, Y/N found herself sitting in the studio, the same studio where Chan had told her Stray Kids often worked on their music. She had arrived early, telling herself it was to focus on finishing the lyrics for their comeback song.

But as she stared at the screen of her laptop, the blinking cursor mocking her inability to write, she realized the real reason she was here: she wanted to see him again.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, the melody Chan had worked on playing softly in the background. She knew the song needed something—something raw and honest—but the words still wouldn’t come.

“You’re early.”

The familiar voice startled her, and she turned to see Chan leaning in the doorway, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Could say the same about you,” she replied, offering a small smile.

He stepped inside, setting the cup on the table next to her. “This is for you. Thought you might need it.”

“Thanks,” she said, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her, his gaze flickering to the screen. “Stuck?”

“Something like that,” she admitted, sighing. “I have the melody in my head, but the lyrics… they just don’t feel right.”

Chan nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes the words come when you stop trying so hard. What are you writing about?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers brushing against the keyboard. “The feeling of losing something you can’t get back,” she said softly.

He didn’t respond right away, but when she looked up, his eyes were locked on hers. “Is that how you feel?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Chan leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped in front of him. “You know, I used to think that too. That once something was gone, it was gone for good.”

“And now?”

“Now I think… maybe some things can come back,” he said, his gaze never wavering. “If both people are willing to try.”

Y/N’s breath caught, the vulnerability in his voice making her heart ache. “Chan, I—”

Before she could finish, the door opened, and Han poked his head inside.

“Hyung! Noona!” he said, his grin wide. “Are we interrupting something?”

Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly shook her head. “No, just working.”

“Sure you are,” Han teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Anyway, we’re starting rehearsal in ten minutes. Don’t be late!”

With that, he disappeared, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Chan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Han has the worst timing.”

Y/N chuckled softly, the tension easing slightly. “He’s just being Han.”

As Chan stood, he glanced at her again. “Think about what I said,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Y/N sat on her bed that night, her notebook open in her lap. Chan’s words played over and over in her mind, his quiet determination resonating with something deep inside her.

She picked up her pen, letting the melody guide her, and began to write. The words flowed more easily now, like they’d been waiting for her to let go of her fear.

Y/N arrived at the studio early again, her notebook clutched tightly in her hands. She found Chan already there, headphones on as he worked on the track.

When he noticed her, he smiled and pulled the headphones off. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she replied, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I have something to show you,” she said, holding out the notebook.

Chan took it, his brows furrowing as he scanned the lyrics. As he read, his expression softened, and when he looked up at her, there was a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite name in his eyes.

“This…” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “This is perfect.”

Y/N felt a weight lift off her chest, her lips curving into a tentative smile. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he said firmly. “It’s honest, Y/N. It’s real. Just like you.”

The warmth in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

As they worked together on the song, their laughter filled the room, blending seamlessly with the music. And in that moment, Y/N realized something: maybe second chances weren’t about starting over. Maybe they were about picking up where you left off and finding the courage to keep going.

As the days passed, Y/N and Chan found themselves spending more time together, not just in the studio but outside of it too. Their shared moments stretched from late-night brainstorming sessions to quiet coffee breaks, each encounter chipping away at the wall that had built up between them over the years.

The song they were working on was slowly coming together, its lyrics raw and emotional. Every note and word seemed to carry a piece of their unspoken feelings, weaving a story of loss and rediscovery.

One Late Night at the Studio

The clock read 2:14 AM, but neither of them seemed to notice. Chan sat at the keyboard, his fingers lightly pressing the keys, playing the melody on loop as Y/N leaned over a notepad, scribbling and crossing out lines.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Chan said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Y/N glanced up, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“You rewrite every line five times before you even give it a chance to breathe,” he said, turning to face her. “Sometimes, the first thought is the most honest.”

She leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen against the notepad. “I guess I’m scared it won’t be good enough.”

“For who?”

Y/N hesitated. “For you. For the members. For everyone who listens to it.”

Chan’s expression softened, and he reached out, his hand resting lightly on hers. “Y/N, it’s already good enough. You’re good enough.”

The sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten, and she looked down at their hands, her heart pounding. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

He smiled faintly. “Not always. But when it comes to you, I try.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the air between them charged. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “We should get back to work,” she said softly, breaking the moment.

Chan nodded, but the way he looked at her told her he’d felt it too.

The Next Day

After practice, Chan approached her with a sly smile. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“Not really. Why?”

“Come with me,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have something to show you.”

Curious, Y/N agreed, and a few hours later, they found themselves walking along a quiet path near the Han River. The city lights reflected on the water, casting a soft glow over everything.

“This used to be my escape,” Chan said, gesturing to the river. “Whenever things got too overwhelming, I’d come here to clear my head.”

Y/N smiled, her arms wrapped around herself against the cool breeze. “It’s beautiful.”

They sat on a bench overlooking the water, the sounds of the city distant and muted. For a while, neither of them spoke, content to simply be in each other’s presence.

“Do you ever think about the past?” Y/N asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“All the time,” Chan admitted, his gaze fixed on the water. “Especially the parts with you.”

Her heart ached at his honesty. “I never stopped thinking about you, Chan. Even when I was halfway across the world, you were always in the back of my mind.”

He turned to her, his eyes searching hers. “Then why did you stay away?”

“I was scared,” she said, her voice trembling. “Scared that coming back would make everything worse. Scared that I wouldn’t know how to face you.”

“You didn’t have to face it alone,” he said gently. “You still don’t.”

Y/N looked at him, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his words. “Chan, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he said, his hand finding hers once more. “Not if we’re both willing to fight for this.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she nodded, a small smile breaking through. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he echoed, a hopeful smile spreading across his face.

“Okay,” she repeated, her voice stronger this time.

They sat there for hours, talking about everything and nothing, their laughter mixing with the sound of the river. And for the first time in years, Y/N felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be—beside him.

The following days were filled with rehearsals, studio sessions, and fan events, but the unspoken connection between Y/N and Chan remained a quiet, constant presence. Their bond deepened with every passing moment, but they kept it to themselves, not ready to make their feelings public—at least, not yet.

The members of Stray Kids, however, weren’t blind. They could see the way Chan’s eyes softened whenever Y/N entered the room, the way she would glance at him from across the studio with that quiet warmth. It didn’t take long for them to start noticing the subtle changes.

A Few Days Later, During Rehearsal

The practice room was buzzing with energy as the Stray Kids members ran through choreography for their upcoming comeback. Y/N was there as usual, helping with the songwriting and offering her input where needed. She sat off to the side, her legs crossed, her notebook in her lap.

But it didn’t take long before Chan noticed her gaze shifting toward him every few seconds. He caught her eyes once, offering a smile. It was simple but full of understanding, and for a split second, it felt like the world faded away around them.

"Chan, focus!" Hyunjin’s voice broke through the moment, pulling him back to the present.

"Yeah, no zoning out now," Felix added, grinning mischievously.

Chan cleared his throat, his face turning slightly pink as he forced himself to focus on the choreography. But his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N, and despite his best efforts to keep it cool, the members were starting to catch on.

After a long rehearsal, the members of Stray Kids were gathered in the living room of their dorm, winding down from the intense practice. Y/N had joined them, laughing along with their teasing and sharing stories about her experiences with music.

Chan, as usual, found himself seated beside her. Their shoulders brushed now and then, and each time it sent a small shock through him, but he didn’t pull away. It felt comfortable, natural even.

“Alright, we’re getting to the good part!” Changbin said, holding up his phone. “Let’s see how long it takes for you two to admit it already.”

Y/N and Chan both blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “What?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

“You know,” Hyunjin smirked, “the whole ‘will-they-won’t-they’ thing. We can tell there’s something going on between you two. The vibe is very obvious.”

Chan’s face flushed bright red. “Hyunjin—no.”

“No, no, don’t hide it!” Han laughed, pointing between Y/N and Chan. “It’s so clear! You two are practically glued to each other. Everyone’s been noticing it, even the fans.”

Y/N’s heart raced. “There’s nothing going on,” she tried to say, but the words felt weak even to her own ears.

“Sure, noona,” Felix teased, grinning. “You’re just here for the music, right?”

The rest of the members burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the teasing. Y/N looked at Chan, her heart pounding in her chest. He met her gaze, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“I—uh—guess we’re not as subtle as we thought,” Chan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, we’re not saying anything’s happening right now,” Seungmin chimed in, his tone playful. “But it’s obvious something’s there. We’re not blind.”

Y/N could feel her face burning, and she shifted uncomfortably. “We’re just… working together on the song,” she said quickly, hoping the explanation would stick.

But instead of pushing further, the members nodded, their teasing settling down. “If you two are happy, we’re happy,” Changbin added with a grin. “Just don’t leave us in the dark, okay?”

Y/N and Chan exchanged a glance. There was no denying that something was shifting between them, but neither of them was ready to put a label on it yet. It wasn’t about making an announcement; it was about feeling the moment together, quietly, without the pressure of others’ expectations.

Later That Evening

After the playful teasing from the members, Y/N and Chan found themselves alone in the kitchen, making tea. It was quiet now, just the two of them and the soft hum of the kitchen lights.

“You okay?” Chan asked, glancing at her as he poured water into the kettle.

“Yeah, just… a little embarrassed,” she admitted with a laugh. “I wasn’t expecting them to be so direct about it.”

Chan chuckled. “They’re always like that. But they mean well.”

“I know,” she said, stirring her tea absentmindedly. “It’s just… I’m not used to this. Not used to being the center of attention like that.”

Chan leaned against the counter, his eyes softening as he watched her. “I get it. It’s a lot, but we don’t have to rush anything. We can take our time.”

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “We’re okay.”

They stood in the silence for a few moments before Chan spoke again, his voice quieter now. “I mean it, though. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll figure it out.”

Y/N met his eyes, her heart swelling at his words. “I’m glad we’re doing this. Together.”

Chan smiled, his gaze full of sincerity. “Me too.”

The days passed in a blur, and every moment Y/N spent with Chan only made her more aware of how deeply she had fallen for him. It wasn’t just the way he looked at her with such kindness, nor was it the gentle way he treated her as if she were the most precious thing in the room. It was everything—the way he understood her without words, the way he could make her laugh even on her worst days, and the way their silences were never uncomfortable.

But despite the deep connection they shared, there was still a part of her that hesitated. The fear of crossing a line. The fear of disrupting the delicate balance they had found.

It was late one evening after practice, and Stray Kids had finished a grueling rehearsal. The members were scattered throughout the dorm, unwinding and preparing for the next day’s schedule. Y/N had stayed behind to finish a few last notes on the song they were collaborating on, the melody and lyrics now blending seamlessly into a perfect mix of their shared creativity.

Chan, however, had lingered. He stood outside the door of the practice room for a moment, watching her from the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest. He had been battling with his feelings for weeks now, unsure if Y/N felt the same way. Every time they shared a quiet moment, it felt like there was something more beneath the surface, but the uncertainty lingered.

He couldn’t stand it anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open, stepping inside.

Y/N didn’t look up at first, her focus on the notebook in front of her, but the sound of the door closing gently made her glance up.

“Chan?”

He walked toward her, his gaze soft, yet determined. “Y/N,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “There’s something I need to say to you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she set the pen down, suddenly feeling nervous. “What’s wrong?”

Chan shook his head, his smile faint but real. “Nothing’s wrong. But I’ve been holding something in for too long, and I can’t keep doing that.”

Y/N’s chest tightened as he took a step closer, his presence so comforting yet electrifying. “What is it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I—” Chan paused, his throat tight with nerves. He had never been one to shy away from his feelings, but this felt different. He knew the stakes were higher now. He could feel the tension between them, the unspoken understanding that they both felt something, but hadn’t yet acknowledged it.

“I think I’ve loved you for a long time,” Chan admitted, his eyes locked onto hers, his words raw and vulnerable.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The words, so simple yet so powerful, sent her heart into overdrive. “Chan… I—”

But before she could say anything else, he reached out, cupping her face gently with both hands. His thumb brushed across her cheek, and in that moment, everything else in the world seemed to fade away. There was only the two of them, standing in the quiet of the room, the air thick with emotions they had both been too afraid to voice until now.

“I can’t hold back anymore, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice hushed but full of intent. “I want you. And I want to be with you, if you feel the same way.”

Her heart soared as she nodded, a soft smile curling at the corners of her lips. “I feel the same, Chan. I’ve always felt the same.”

Before she could say anything more, Chan leaned in slowly, his eyes flickering between hers and her lips. He paused, giving her a chance to pull away if she wanted to, but the moment stretched on, and she didn’t move. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, closing the distance between them.

Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was soft at first, as if both of them were testing the waters, but the moment their lips touched, a spark ignited between them. The kiss deepened, and Y/N’s hands found their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her fingertips. Chan’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate.

Time seemed to stand still, the only sound the soft rush of their breaths and the quiet hum of the room around them. It was as though the entire world had paused, and for once, there was nothing but the two of them in that moment, finally free to be what they had both secretly wanted for so long.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Chan rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gently cradling her face.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

“I know,” she whispered back, her hands tracing the lines of his shirt, still feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

They stood there for a few moments, wrapped in the aftermath of the kiss, letting the reality of it settle. It was like the weight of the years they had spent apart had lifted, and in its place was the promise of something new, something they could both build together.

Finally, Chan pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and disbelief. “I think we should make this official,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “I’m not letting you go this time, Y/N.”

She smiled up at him, her heart full. “I’m not going anywhere.”

After that night, everything changed between Y/N and Chan. What had once been subtle glances and fleeting touches now became an undeniable force that neither of them could ignore. It was as if the world had slowed down, leaving just the two of them caught in the newfound intensity of their connection.

The evening had settled in with a quiet calm, and Stray Kids had finished another long day of practice. Y/N had stayed behind for a while, working through some lyrics, but as the night deepened, she found herself looking out of the window, her thoughts wandering to the moment she and Chan had shared.

Without thinking, she made her way to the roof, craving some fresh air and solitude.

As she stepped onto the rooftop, the cool breeze brushed against her skin, and she took a deep breath, feeling the tension of the day slip away.

But her solitude didn’t last long. Moments later, the sound of footsteps approached, and Chan stepped into view, a smile playing on his lips.

“You were looking for me?” he asked, his voice soft yet teasing.

Y/N turned to him, her heart fluttering. “I just wanted some space to think.”

Chan walked toward her, the distance between them closing quickly. “I understand. Mind if I join you?”

Y/N smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to stand next to her. They stood in silence for a few moments, looking at the stars above them, the city lights twinkling below.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Chan remarked, his voice almost a whisper as he turned to face her.

She nodded, her gaze meeting his. “Just thinking about everything that’s changed.”

“You don’t have to be so guarded with me, you know,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “You can share anything.”

Without saying another word, he reached out, gently cupping her face, and before she could even react, he kissed her—slowly, softly, as if savoring the moment. The kiss was tender, almost like a question, a reassurance that they were both on the same page.

Y/N melted into him, her hands instinctively going to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body as she kissed him back, deepening the kiss. Their lips moved together in a rhythm they had somehow already known, their hearts racing in unison.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N was breathless, her heart pounding in her chest.

“That… that was...” she trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Perfect,” Chan finished for her, his smile wide and sincere. “I don’t want to let you go, Y/N.”

“I don’t want you to,” she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing the outline of his jaw.

Chan’s eyes softened, and he kissed her again, this time more urgently, as if the very act of being close to her was what he had been craving all this time. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her body against his. Y/N responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

The kiss deepened, each touch feeling more like a confession of everything they had been holding back. Y/N could feel the heat rising between them, the undeniable chemistry that had always been there, now unleashed.

When they pulled apart this time, their breathing was uneven, but their smiles never wavered.

“I want more of that,” Y/N whispered, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Then you’ll have it,” Chan promised, his voice low and filled with emotion.

As the night continued, Stray Kids and Y/N had moved back into the studio to work on the final touches for the track. The members were bustling around, preparing for the next stage of the project.

Chan and Y/N shared more than a few stolen moments during the session. Every so often, their hands brushed as they worked, the brief contact sending sparks through both of them. And each time, neither of them could resist the pull toward each other.

At one point, while the others were busy, Chan took Y/N’s hand and pulled her aside, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Hey, let’s take a break,” he suggested, his voice low.

Before she could say anything, he led her to a quiet corner of the studio, hidden away from the rest of the group.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in.

Y/N shivered at his closeness, her heart racing once more. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

With those words, he kissed her again, this time with more intensity, his hands sliding down her sides as he pressed her against the wall. Her hands went to his chest, pushing him slightly away just enough to look at him.

“Chan… we’re—”

“We’re fine,” he interrupted gently, his lips brushing against her ear. “Just let it happen. Let me kiss you like I’ve wanted to for so long.”

Y/N could only nod before pulling him back toward her, their lips colliding in a passionate kiss. The kiss was messy and urgent, fueled by all the emotions they had kept bottled up for too long. Chan’s hands explored her back, pulling her closer as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and Y/N responded in kind, her hands threading through his hair as she tugged him even closer.

The kiss deepened, and she could feel her body reacting to his touch. Their shared heat, the taste of each other, was intoxicating, and she never wanted it to end.

Finally, when they broke apart, both were breathless, their faces flushed with the intensity of the kiss.

“I never want to stop,” Y/N whispered, her lips still tingling from his touch.

“Then don’t,” Chan whispered back, his voice full of quiet determination. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The days that followed were filled with moments of subtle tenderness. For Y/N and Chan, their quiet connection had blossomed into something undeniable. But the more they navigated their feelings for each other, the more the rest of Stray Kids began to notice.

The members had been teasing them here and there, but they were starting to notice the small, almost imperceptible shifts in their interactions. How Y/N and Chan would share private smiles, how they’d brush their hands together while working, and how they couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off each other. It wasn’t just obvious anymore—it was undeniable.

A Few Days Later

The members were lounging around in the dorm’s living room, casually chatting and watching TV. Y/N was sitting on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her as she scrolled through her phone. Chan was standing by the window, his back turned to everyone, but he kept sneaking glances at her—his gaze soft and full of affection.

Felix, ever the observant one, caught on first. He shot a glance at Hyunjin, who was sitting beside him, his curiosity piqued.

“Hyunjin, do you notice anything… different about Chan and Y/N?” Felix asked, his voice a little quieter than usual, so as not to attract attention.

Hyunjin turned to look at them, his eyes narrowing with interest. “What do you mean?”

Felix motioned subtly to the two of them. “They’ve been acting... weird lately. More than usual.”

Hyunjin leaned back, crossing his arms. “I’ve noticed. They keep exchanging these looks... and they’ve been so close. They’re not even hiding it anymore.”

“You think?” Felix whispered, eyes widening.

Changbin, who was sitting across from them, suddenly joined the conversation. “You guys are so slow.”

“What?” Hyunjin and Felix both asked, clearly puzzled.

“Their chemistry is so obvious that it’s painful to watch,” Changbin said, looking at them like they were oblivious. “They’re definitely together. It’s been clear for days.”

Felix’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Are we talking about Y/N and Chan?”

Changbin nodded. “Are you guys blind? It’s been happening right in front of us.”

Meanwhile, Chan had been standing by the window, feeling the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. He knew the members were starting to figure it out, but he hadn’t yet decided how he was going to approach it. He wasn’t sure whether he was ready for the conversations that would follow—especially with Y/N being part of their world now.

Y/N glanced up at him from her phone, catching his thoughtful expression. She smiled gently, then stood up and walked over to him, her steps light. Without a word, she reached out and gently grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Everything okay?” she asked softly.

Chan turned to look at her, a small, tender smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

He paused, his gaze flickering between her and the members. “About... how much longer we can hide this from everyone.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think we need to hide it anymore.”

She leaned in slightly, her lips brushing his in a brief but sweet kiss. When she pulled away, her smile was soft but confident.

But before Chan could respond, the others noticed them. The members had been watching the exchange and couldn't ignore it any longer.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Seungmin called out from the couch, grinning. “You two are so obvious. Stop pretending you’re not together already!”

Y/N froze for a moment, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She pulled her hand from Chan’s and glanced at the members, who were all now looking at them with knowing smiles and raised eyebrows.

“Wait, what?” Y/N said, trying to sound nonchalant, though her voice cracked slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“We’ve all seen it,” Hyunjin said with a teasing grin. “The secret looks. The little touches. The way you two act when no one’s looking.”

Felix smirked. “Noona, you’ve been keeping it lowkey, huh? But come on, we’re not that dumb.”

Chan sighed, his shoulders slumping as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess it’s pretty obvious.”

“I’m glad you finally admitted it,” Changbin said with a knowing wink. “We’ve been waiting for the two of you to figure it out.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her embarrassment fading into amusement. “I guess it wasn’t as secret as I thought.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Han said, rolling his eyes playfully. “You two are the worst at keeping things under wraps.”

“Wait, so you’re really together?” Seungmin asked, his eyes wide with mock surprise. “No one told me!”

“We’ve been waiting for the right moment,” Chan said, his voice calm but still with a hint of nervousness. He glanced at Y/N, his hand finding hers once again, their fingers intertwining naturally. “But I guess this is the moment.”

Y/N smiled softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “Yeah. We’re together.”

The members all erupted into cheers and claps, teasing them relentlessly but with warmth and excitement.

“Finally!” Felix shouted. “We’ve been waiting for this day!”

“Congratulations, Chan hyung!” Hyunjin added with a wink. “You didn’t let us down.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but his smile was wide. “You guys are impossible.”

Y/N laughed along with them, the tension lifting from the room. It felt right to finally say it out loud, to not hide it anymore. She and Chan were not only in a relationship—they were part of each other’s worlds now, and there was no turning back.

The group fell into easy chatter, teasing and congratulating the couple, but there was a warmth in the air now, a sense of unity that made everything feel just a little bit more perfect.

After the teasing had died down, and the members had retreated to their own corners, Chan and Y/N found themselves alone in the living room. The weight of their confessions still hung in the air, and they shared a quiet, intimate moment together.

Chan pulled Y/N into a gentle hug, his arms wrapped securely around her waist as they stood in the middle of the room, the night outside peaceful.

“I’m glad we did this,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she rested her head on his chest. “It feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad too,” Chan murmured, his lips pressing against the top of her head.

The days after the members discovered Y/N and Chan’s relationship were both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. While the members of Stray Kids were supportive, teasing, and genuinely happy for them, it also meant that their relationship was no longer a secret. It was out in the open, and the dynamic had shifted slightly.

But for Y/N and Chan, it felt like a new beginning. They could now be open with their feelings, share stolen moments without hiding in the shadows, and no longer had to hide the tender affection that had been building for so long.

A Week Later

Stray Kids had been hard at work preparing for their next performance, and the practice room buzzed with the usual energy and enthusiasm. However, there was a noticeable shift in the air. Y/N and Chan were no longer exchanging secret glances but instead spoke to each other with a familiarity and warmth that the other members had grown accustomed to seeing.

The energy was light, but there was an undeniable tension between the two of them—a good tension that seemed to draw them closer every time they exchanged looks or brushed past each other during rehearsal.

As they took a short break, Chan walked over to Y/N, who was sitting on the floor stretching.

“Need some help with that stretch?” he asked, his voice low but teasing.

Y/N smiled, looking up at him. “You always say that when I’m on the floor, don’t you?”

“Only because it’s cute when you stretch,” Chan replied, kneeling down next to her with a grin. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder, the touch sending warmth through her.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “You really need to stop with the compliments. You’re going to make me blush.”

“Good,” Chan said, leaning in closer. “I like it when you blush.”

She playfully pushed him away. “Stop! You’re too much sometimes.”

Before they could continue the playful banter, Bang Chan’s voice echoed from the other side of the room.

“Focus, you two!” Lee Know called, eyes narrowing teasingly. “We’re supposed to be stretching, not flirting!”

The entire room broke into laughter, but there was no denying the warmth between Chan and Y/N. The other members watched in amusement, clearly enjoying the comfort and chemistry between the two.

The Following Week

The group was now preparing for their upcoming comeback, and the studio had become a second home for Stray Kids. The energy was always high, and everyone was hard at work, but it also meant that Y/N and Chan had to navigate the complexities of being in a relationship while working in the same professional space.

As they worked side by side, Y/N noticed how effortlessly they fit into the dynamic of the group. Chan would check in with her about lyrics, sometimes brushing his hand against hers as he passed her papers or leaned over to suggest changes. The members were fully supportive, often teasing the two of them but always with good-natured humor.

But it wasn’t just the members of Stray Kids who noticed. The staff, the choreographers, and even some of the other artists who came in for recordings could feel the shift in the atmosphere whenever Y/N and Chan were together. The bond between them was undeniable.

And then, one afternoon, while the group was taking a short break, Y/N and Chan were caught in a moment of pure affection. As the group was chatting casually, Chan reached out to fix a stray lock of hair that had fallen over Y/N’s forehead. His fingers brushed against her skin, and their eyes locked for a split second. There was a quiet intimacy in the way they shared the look, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Jisung, who had been quietly observing, raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Okay, you two. We get it. You’re cute. But we’re trying to work here!”

Y/N and Chan both blushed, stepping apart quickly. “Sorry!” Y/N said, looking sheepish but also unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“I swear, if you guys get any more obvious, we’ll need to separate you two,” Hyunjin teased, his grin mischievous.

The teasing didn’t stop there, but Y/N and Chan couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between them now replaced with a shared sense of comfort.

The peaceful moments Y/N and Chan shared were soon overshadowed by the weight of an inevitable decision: the time had come to announce their relationship to the public. Their growing affection had long been impossible to hide from the people closest to them, but now it was a matter of whether they would control the narrative or let the media take charge of their story.

For the past few weeks, both had been grappling with the idea of how to approach it. They were aware of the scrutiny that came with being public figures, but they had also realized that their feelings for each other were too strong to keep hidden any longer. They needed to be honest—not only with the public, but with themselves.

Chan and Y/N sat on the couch late one evening, a blanket draped over their laps as they spoke in low voices, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air.

“So, it’s really time,” Y/N said, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of the blanket. Her heart raced, knowing that once they made the decision, there would be no turning back.

“Yeah,” Chan said softly, his hand finding hers, gently squeezing it. “I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from them. Not from us.” He met her eyes, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “We’re strong enough to handle whatever comes. We’ve been through too much together.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. “I know. It just feels... scary. The media, the fans... What if they don’t accept us?”

“I’ll be with you through it all,” Chan reassured her. “No matter what happens, I’ve got your back. We’ve got this.”

She leaned against him, her heart swelling with affection. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The day they decided to announce their relationship to the public arrived with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Y/N and Chan sat down with their managers, who had prepared a statement that would be shared with the fans and media. It was carefully crafted to be both respectful and clear, allowing them to express their feelings while maintaining some level of privacy.

Y/N’s hands shook slightly as she held the piece of paper with the statement, but Chan’s reassuring presence next to her calmed her nerves. They knew they had to be careful, but they also knew they couldn’t hide anymore.

As the time for the announcement drew near, the tension in the air was palpable. The members of Stray Kids had gathered in the living room, anxiously awaiting their friends' decision. The room was filled with murmurs of excitement, nervousness, and support. Everyone knew the significance of this moment.

“Are you two ready?” Bang Chan asked, his voice steady as he glanced at Y/N.

Y/N smiled weakly, her nerves evident. “I think so.”

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin said with a teasing grin. “We’ve got your back. Besides, we know you guys are perfect for each other.”

The others nodded in agreement, giving them words of encouragement.

With a deep breath, Y/N and Chan stood together, ready to face the world.

The official Stray Kids Twitter account shared the announcement:

“Hello, Stays! We wanted to take a moment to share something important with you all. Over the past few months,Bangchan and Y/N have developed a close and special relationship, one that we are very proud of. As their friends, we wanted to support them in their decision to go public. We ask for your understanding and respect as they embark on this new chapter. As always, we are grateful for your continued love and support. Thank you.”

The post went live, and the reactions were immediate. Within minutes, thousands of comments flooded in from fans. Some were ecstatic, expressing their joy and excitement for the couple. Others were surprised but supportive, appreciating the honesty. However, there were a few critics who voiced their concerns, questioning their relationship and what it meant for the group’s image.

On the Twitter Feed

“Oh my god, Bangchan and Y/N?! 😭💖 So happy for them! They’re so perfect together!”

“I can’t believe this is real! I’ve been shipping them for so long!!”

“Wishing them all the best! Love is real, and so is this ship 😍💑”

“What?? I never saw this coming, but I support them! #StayTrue”

“Wow, this is so sudden. Is this the best decision for them, though?”

“I don’t know if I can handle this. I just hope they’re ready for what comes next. It’s a lot of pressure for them...”

The mixed reactions didn’t surprise either of them. They had both prepared for the scrutiny that came with the territory of being idols, but they also knew that the love they shared was worth it. The most important thing was that they had each other—and the unwavering support of their friends.

As the evening wore on, Stray Kids sat together in the living room, following up on their announcement. They had been checking social media reactions all day, and while there was a lot of love and support, it was clear that the announcement had stirred up a lot of attention.

“Are you guys, okay?” Han asked, his eyes soft as he turned to Y/N and Chan.

Y/N nodded, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. “It’s a lot to process, but I think... we can handle it. I’m just glad we did it together.”

Chan smiled, his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “We’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what happens.”

The members of Stray Kids rallied around them, offering their words of encouragement and support.

“You two are amazing,” Han said, a big smile on his face. “You’ve got all of us behind you, and we’ve got you covered.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about a thing,” Hyunjin added. “We’re a team, and we’ll take on whatever comes together.”

The love and support from the group was overwhelming, and it made the weight of the situation feel a little lighter.

That night, as the group finally settled in to relax, Chan and Y/N found themselves alone in the living room once again. They sat together on the couch, the glow of the soft lamps casting a warm light across the room.

Y/N rested her head on Chan’s shoulder, her hand still tightly clasped in his.

“Do you think we did the right thing?” she asked quietly, her voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and hope.

Chan kissed the top of her head gently. “I do. We’re finally being honest. And that’s all that matters.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full of gratitude. “I love you, Chan.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. “And nothing is going to change that.”

And for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt a sense of peace. No matter what the world threw their way, she knew that as long as they had each other, they could face anything.

85 notes · View notes

techhiz · 2 days ago

Note

Hi do you take tfp request and if you did,can I request for ratchet with his femme s/o who are like an old married couple and meeting team prime and the kids.

Old Sparks.

The atmosphere in the Autobot base buzzed with its usual controlled chaos. Ratchet was stationed at his console, hands deftly navigating Cybertronian tech as the familiar sound of ground bridging filled the room. The rest of Team Prime—Optimus, Bulkhead, Arcee, Bumblebee, and even the kids—were gathered, curious about the arrival of someone new.

"Ratchet," Optimus began, his deep voice calm but questioning, "you mentioned an old comrade would be visiting today. May I ask who they are?"

"Comrade is a strong word, Optimus," Ratchet grumbled, not looking up from his work. "Let’s just say she’s… persistent."

"Persistent?" Bulkhead echoed, grinning. "That sounds like a story I wanna hear."

Before Ratchet could retort, the ground bridge roared to life, and from its glowing vortex stepped a tall femme with elegant but battle-worn armor, her optics scanning the room with practiced precision. She had a presence that immediately demanded attention, her demeanor a perfect blend of confidence and composure.

"Y/N," Ratchet muttered, standing upright. His tone betrayed a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

"Hello, Ratch," you replied smoothly, a teasing smirk gracing your lips. "Still grumpy, I see."

The moment you stepped into the base, the dynamic between you and Ratchet became evident. It wasn’t just the way he sighed as you gave him a light jab on the arm, or the way you tutted at the state of his workspace—it was the banter.

"Still keeping this place running with duct tape and miracles, I see," you teased, leaning against his console.

"And yet, somehow, it works," Ratchet shot back, crossing his arms.

"Yes, because you’re the miracle," you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "I’m sure Optimus has to beg you to take a recharge every now and then."

"Someone has to keep this operation functional," Ratchet huffed.

"Ah, yes, the noble sacrifice of Ratchet: savior of failing Autobots and chaotic humans alike."

Your playful tone earned a few snickers from the others, especially Bulkhead and Miko.

"Are they… always like this?" Miko whispered loudly to Bumblebee.

Bee nodded with a chirp, his optics glowing with amusement.

Optimus stepped forward, his towering frame radiating calm authority. "Y/N, welcome to our base. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure’s mine, Optimus," you said, offering a respectful nod. "I’ve heard a lot about your team."

"We’ve heard nothing about you," Arcee quipped, crossing her arms but with a hint of a smirk.

Ratchet groaned. "That’s because some things are best left private."

"Private, huh?" Bulkhead teased. "I don’t know, Ratch. You two give off serious ‘old married couple’ vibes."

"That’s because we are an old married couple," you said casually, enjoying the way everyone froze.

Arcee’s optics widened. "Wait, you’re serious?"

"You’re married?" Miko exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.

Ratchet pinched the bridge of his nose. "Primus, give me strength."

The kids were immediately fascinated by you, bombarding you with questions about your life on Cybertron, your history with Ratchet, and—most importantly—how you managed to put up with his grumpiness.

"So, like, how long have you been together?" Miko asked eagerly.

"Long enough to know that Ratchet’s bark is worse than his bite," you replied, earning a scoff from your mate.

"She exaggerates," Ratchet muttered.

"Do I?" you challenged, raising an optic ridge.

Raf chuckled softly. "You’re really good at keeping him on his toes."

"It’s a full-time job," you joked.

Jack, ever the voice of reason, asked, "So, are you staying here with the team now?"

Your smile faltered slightly as you glanced at Ratchet. "That depends. I was hoping to help out, but only if Ratchet doesn’t mind sharing his lab."

Ratchet sighed but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You’re welcome to stay… just don’t reorganize my tools."

"No promises," you quipped, earning another round of laughter.

As the day went on, you integrated seamlessly into the team’s dynamic. You assisted Ratchet with a few repairs, earning his begrudging thanks, and even sparred with Arcee, impressing her with your combat skills.

But it was during a quiet moment, when the kids were off with Bumblebee and Bulkhead, that Ratchet finally spoke his mind.

"I… wasn’t sure if bringing you here was the right decision," he admitted, his tone softer than usual.

You placed a gentle servo on his. "Ratchet, I know you worry. You always have. But being here, with you and the team—it feels right."

He hesitated before nodding. "Just… promise me you’ll be careful. I’ve already lost you once. I won’t go through that again."

"I promise," you said, leaning in to press your forehelm to his in a gesture of affection.

By the end of the day, it was clear that you were already an integral part of the team. Even Miko, who was initially more interested in your battle stories, started asking for advice on how to handle Bulkhead’s overly cautious tendencies.

As the base settled for the evening, you found yourself sitting beside Ratchet once again, the two of you quietly enjoying each other’s company.

"You know," you said after a while, "this place isn’t so bad. A little chaotic, sure, but it’s got heart."

Ratchet chuckled softly. "That’s one way to put it."

"And you, Ratch," you continued, leaning against his shoulder, "you’re not so bad yourself."

"Don’t push it," he muttered, though his tone was laced with warmth.

As the stars twinkled outside the base, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. For the first time in a long time, you were home.

#transformers #transformers x reader #tfp #ratchet tfp #techhiz work

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misshoneyimhome · 3 days ago

Note

Willy has been begging you to introduce roleplay into your sexual life, and you’ve been brushing him off acting nonchalantly. When he comes home from a long trip, you surprise him in a schoolgirl costume, turning his wildest fantasy into reality. Willy x Inexperienced reader

Oh, hello there, babe! 🥰 How I’ve missed the inexperienced!reader x Willy, so what better way to welcome William back from a roadie than with a little naughty, cheeky fun? 😉😏

As is often the case, I started writing this, and before I knew it, the story took on a life of its own… 🙈 Hopefully, it ticks some boxes for those William x schoolgirl fantasies out there 💕

Happy reading, love! 💕

Tropes & warnings: Inexperienced!reader x Willy, established relationship, school girl outfit, slightly dom!willy (nothing much though), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), sex toy (butt plug), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside.

Word count: 3.7K

➼｡ﾟ

A Lesson in Desire | inexperienced!reader x William Nylander ✐��

You’d heard William’s teasing requests countless times. Always with that mischievous smirk, he’d throw out suggestions—little comments about spicing things up, adding a bit of roleplay to your already exciting relationship. At first, you’d brushed them off, laughing nervously and changing the subject. But deep down, a part of you was curious, wondering what it would be like to let go and dive into one of his fantasies. Or well… another one.

And tonight, you were finally giving in.

It had taken some courage—and a lot of Googling—but you’d pieced together the perfect outfit: a pleated plaid skirt that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs, a white button-up shirt tied just above your waist to reveal a strip of skin, and white knee-high socks. To top it all off, you’d found a thin black tie and a pair of low heels that gave you an innocent yet seductive air. A pair of white lace panties hid underneath the skirt—a detail you were sure William would appreciate later.

You checked your reflection in the bedroom mirror, smoothing the skirt nervously. The outfit was more revealing than anything you’d ever worn (if we don’t consider lingerie), but it made you feel bold, powerful even. If this was what William wanted, you were ready to deliver. You were his “good girl” most of the time, but tonight, you’d be anything but.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. He was home.

Your heart raced as you positioned yourself in the living room, perched delicately on the edge of the sofa. Crossing your legs, you let the skirt ride up just enough to reveal a teasing hint of thigh. You twirled the end of your tie between your fingers, trying to calm your nerves as you heard the shuffle of his footsteps in the hallway.

When he stepped through the door, still wearing his travel-worn hoodie and track pants, his eyes immediately locked on you—and froze.

“Babe,” he started, his voice faltering as his bag slipped from his hand to the floor with a soft thud. His expression was a mix of surprise and intrigue, his mouth slightly parted as he drank in the sight before him.

You tilted your head innocently, letting the tie slip from your fingers. “Welcome home, Mr. Nylander,” you said sweetly, your voice carrying just a hint of playfulness as you rose slowly from the sofa. “You’ve been gone so long, I thought it was time for a… special lesson.”

His reaction was instantaneous. His blue eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as a slow, wicked grin spread across his face. He took a step closer, his gaze raking over every inch of your outfit. “Is this real?” he asked, his voice low, almost disbelieving. “Or am I imagining this because I’m exhausted?”

You bit your lip, feigning innocence as you spread your arms slightly, letting him take in the full effect of your outfit. “Does it look like you’re imagining it?”

His hand ran through his hair as he let out a short laugh, the sound low and rich. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” His steps were slow but deliberate as he closed the distance between you, stopping so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “Where’d you get the idea for this?”

“Well,” you said softly, keeping your tone teasing, “you’ve been asking for something like this for months. Thought it was time I listened.”

His fingers brushed against your exposed thigh, just beneath the hem of the skirt, sending a shiver up your spine. His touch was light, barely there, but enough to make you tremble. His gaze flicked back to yours, sparkling with delight at your reaction. “You have no idea what you’ve just done, älskling,” he murmured, his voice a mix of amusement and raw hunger.

You shrugged lightly, leaning back against the sofa, your heart pounding as you met his gaze head-on. “Guess you’ll have to teach me.”

That was all it took. In one smooth motion, he bent down, hooking his arms under your knees and lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You let out a soft gasp, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the bedroom. His grip was firm yet gentle, and the intensity in his eyes left no doubt about where the night was headed.

“Lesson number one,” he said, voice low and thick with desire as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him, “you don’t tease me unless you’re ready for the consequences.”

Your stomach flipped in anticipation, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding your senses as he set you down gently on the edge of the bed. His hands lingered on your waist, his fingers brushing the exposed skin beneath the tied shirt.

“Well,” you said, breathless but bold, “guess I’ll have to take my punishment then.”

His grin widened, his eyes darkening as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was possessive, hungry, and full of promise—one that left you clinging to him, your heart racing in time with the heat building between you. This was exactly what you’d wanted: to give him his fantasy and, in doing so, discover something new about yourself too.

“You’ve been teasing me for weeks,” he murmured, his voice thick with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Brushing me off like I wasn’t serious.”

You smirked, emboldened by his reaction. “Maybe I just wanted to see how patient you could be.”

His laugh was low, dark. “Oh, I’ll show you how patient I can be.”

When he pulled back, his gaze was molten. “This outfit,” he said, tugging lightly at the tie, “is going to be the death of me.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks flushed. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Oh, I don’t just like it,” he murmured, his voice dropping. “I love it.”

With that he didn’t waste another second. His hands moved to undo the tie, sliding it free with a precision that made your breath hitch. As he laid you back against the bed, the skirt rode up to reveal even more skin. And as William hovered over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Let’s see how good my favourite student can be,” you knew this lesson was one you’d never forget.

William’s words sent a shiver through your body, his warm breath tickling the shell of your ear. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your jaw as he whispered, “You’ve always been so good for me. But now… let’s see how well you can really behave.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding as his hands slid up your thighs, lifting the pleated skirt higher. The fabric bunched at your hips, exposing the lacy white panties you’d chosen to complete the look. He paused for a moment, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip.

“This…” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his fingers tracing along the edge of your panties. “This is better than I imagined.” His hand slipped beneath the fabric, grazing over your slick heat, and you let out a soft gasp, your back arching slightly at the contact.

“Willy…” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

He looked up at you, his blue eyes intense and searching. “Tell me you want it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your hip in a reassuring gesture. “Say you me to take care of you”

You nodded, your cheeks flushing at his tenderness. “I want you to take care of me.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned in to kiss you, this time slower, deeper. The warmth of his mouth on yours sent a wave of heat through your body, and you found yourself melting into him, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his hoodie.

William pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his hand moving to unbutton the front of your blouse. “Let’s get this off, shall we?” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

You bit your lip, nodding as he carefully unwrapped you, his fingers deftly working the buttons before slipping the blouse off your shoulders. The cool air brushed against your skin, and you felt the heat of his gaze as he took in the lacy white bra that matched your panties.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your face. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, along your collarbone, and lower still until they hovered just above the edge of your bra.

He paused, looking up at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You dressed up just for me, didn’t you?”

You nodded, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You’ve done more than that,” he said, his tone thick with desire. “You’ve driven me absolutely crazy.”

He reached behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease, and let it fall away. His lips immediately found the soft skin of your chest, leaving a trail of heated kisses that made you squirm beneath him.

As his mouth worked its magic, his hand slid back down to your thigh, hooking under your knee to pull you closer. You could feel the growing hardness pressing against you, the evidence of just how much he wanted you.

“Willy…” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties again, this time sliding lower to explore the heat of your folds. His touch was gentle but purposeful, coaxing soft gasps and moans from your lips.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and pride. “All for me?”

You nodded, barely able to form words as he worked you over with expert precision. “Yes… all for you.”

His lips found yours again, silencing your soft cries as his fingers moved with more intent, circling your clit and dipping inside you in a rhythm that left you breathless. The pressure built steadily, your body responding to every stroke, every touch, every whisper of his name.

And when he finally pushed you over the edge, your release was a soft, shuddering wave that left you clinging to him, your body trembling from the intensity of it.

William held you through it, his touch never faltering, his kisses never ceasing. And as you came down from the high, he pressed his forehead to yours, his voice soft and full of adoration.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he promised, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “Lesson’s not over.”

William shifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he took a few steps back to undress himself, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he looked at you—possessive yet tender, hungry yet adoring—sent a fresh wave of anticipation surging through your body.

“Ready for next lesson?” he asked, his voice low and velvety, the question laced with genuine care.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands traced a path down your sides, his touch warm and grounding. “Yes. Please, Mr. Nylander,” you murmured, the words barely audible.

His grin turned smug, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply, his tongue sweeping across yours in a way that made your toes curl. The heat of his body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you in the moment. When he pulled back, his fingers slipped under the waistband of your panties, the lace dragging against your skin as he slowly slid them down your legs.

William tossed the delicate fabric aside, his gaze dropping to your bare core. He paused, taking you in with a reverence that made your cheeks flush. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice making your heart stutter.

You shifted under his gaze, a mix of bashfulness and arousal washing over you. “Stop staring,” you teased softly, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Can’t help it,” he replied, his hand gliding up your thigh. “I’ve been dreaming about this moment.”

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, each one closer to where you ached for him most. His beard, slightly scruffy after his trip, added a delicious friction that made you squirm. The way he took his time, teasing you with light touches and kisses, left you breathless.

When his mouth finally found your core, the heat of his tongue against your slick folds made you gasp, your back arching off the bed. His hands held your hips firmly, keeping you in place as he licked and sucked, his movements purposeful and unrelenting. Every swirl of his tongue, every gentle nip of his teeth against your clit, sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Willy… oh my God,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his assault on your senses.

He hummed in response, the vibration making you cry out, your body trembling beneath him. He worked you with a precision that left you teetering on the edge, the pressure building with every pass of his tongue and stroke of his fingers.

When your climax hit, it was overwhelming, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure rolled through you. He stayed with you, coaxing every last tremor from your body, his hands soothing against your skin as you came down from the high.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was moving up your body, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss that tasted of you. The hard length of him pressed against your thigh, a reminder of just how much he wanted you.

“Your turn,” you murmured, your voice still trembling from the lingering intensity of your climax.

He let out a low, rough chuckle, the sound sending a shiver through your already sensitive body. “Oh, don’t worry, älskling,” he said, his voice thick with promise, his words laced with mischief. “We’re nowhere near finished.”

With deliberate movements, William reached for the nightstand, retrieving something you hadn’t seen in a while—the sleek little diamond-tipped buttplug. Your breath caught at the sight of it, your heart racing in anticipation of the added sensation it promised.

William’s smirk deepened as he returned to position, a bottle of lubricant in hand. He kneeled between your legs, his eyes dark with intent as they locked onto yours. “Relax, älskling,” he murmured, his tone a mix of reassurance and playful dominance. “This is just to make it even better—for both of us. And to teach you lesson number two: if you start something, you better be ready for me to finish it. My way.”

His confidence and the glint of challenge in his gaze left you breathless, anticipation coiling low in your belly as he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips before guiding you into his plans.

“You’ve been such a good girl tonight,” he murmured. His voice was soft, almost tender, but the edge of authority in his tone made your pulse race. “But good girls don’t tease their boyfriends for weeks and think they’ll get away with it.” His eyes gleamed with playful intent as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, leaving you breathless.

His hands skimmed down your body, trailing over your curves with a reverence that made your cheeks flush. When his fingers reached your hips, he tilted his head, his gaze locking with yours. “You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a little softer now, his thumb brushing a soothing circle against your skin.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Always.”

That seemed to satisfy him, and he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, filled with a promise that sent a thrill through you. “Good,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands urging you to turn onto your stomach.

You obeyed, the cool sheets brushing against your heated skin as you settled into position. Your heart was pounding, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling within you as he spread your legs slightly, his warm hands grounding you with their firm yet gentle touch.

He reached for the lubricant, squeezing a small amount onto his fingers. “Relax for me, älskling,” he said softly, his tone reassuring as he trailed his fingers along your lower back and down to the cleft of your cheeks. The first cool touch of the lubricant against your sensitive skin made you shiver, but his hands moved with such care that the tension in your body began to melt away.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his praise sending a rush of warmth through you. “So beautiful.”

His fingers moved with expert precision, preparing you slowly, his touch never straying into discomfort. And when he finally pressed the plug into place, you gasped, the cool metal igniting every nerve in your body.

“Perfect,” William said, his voice thick with pride as he leaned back to admire his work. His hands soothed over your hips, grounding you once more before he flipped you back onto your back. The slight shift in position heightened the sensation, and you bit your lip, your breath hitching as his gaze swept over you.

“You’re my stunning little student, aren’t you,” he whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. The weight of his body pressed against yours, grounding you further as his hand slid between your thighs, finding the slick heat of your core. His touch was electric, his fingers stroking and teasing in a rhythm that had you arching into him, desperate for more.

“Willy…” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers worked you over with unrelenting precision.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “Just relax, älskling. Let me take care of you.”

And he did. He took his time, his touch building you up again with a slow, deliberate intensity that left you trembling. But he still wasn’t done.

William then shifted, aligning himself with you as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance. “Ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Yes, please, sir.”

He grinned, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of you as he slowly pushed into you, filling you completely with one deliberate thrust. The combination of his deep, satisfying fullness and the added pressure from the plug left you gasping, your body arching instinctively toward him. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, seeking grounding amidst the overwhelming sensation as he began to move.

His pace was slow and measured at first, each thrust purposeful, designed to drive you higher with every roll of his hips. The weight of his body against yours, the way his gaze locked onto your face as you writhed beneath him—it all added to the heat building between you. Each movement sent sparks coursing through your body, the sensations amplified by the plug, which added a delicious fullness you’d missed.

But as the tension between you escalated, William’s control began to slip. His pace quickened, his thrusts growing more urgent, each one deeper and more insistent than the last. His grip on the sheets tightened, his jaw clenched as he chased his own release, every muscle in his body working toward that shared goal. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and the soft, guttural groans spilling from his lips.

The combination of his relentless rhythm, the fullness of him inside you, and the added pressure from the plug was too much. The pleasure built rapidly, consuming every thought until your body reached its breaking point. With a sharp cry, you shattered, your climax crashing over you in wave after wave of intense pleasure. Your walls pulsed around him, drawing a deep, guttural groan from his throat as he continued to move, drawing out every last tremor of your release.

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body trembled beneath his. The sheer intensity of the moment left you breathless, your head falling back as you gasped for air, every nerve still alive with sensation. Even as you came down, you could feel William’s tension, his movements becoming erratic as he edged closer to his own breaking point.

And when he finally found his climax, it was nothing short of overwhelming. A deep, guttural growl escaped his lips, vibrating against your skin as he buried himself to the hilt, his body shuddering above you. The warmth of him spilling inside you was a heady sensation, an intimate claim that left you gasping, the sheer intensity of it all sending another small ripple of pleasure coursing through your already sensitive body.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot and uneven as he rode out the last waves of his release. His grip on the sheets softened, the tension in his body easing as he collapsed slightly, careful not to crush you under his weight. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the mingling of your breaths, both of you caught in the haze of satisfaction and intimacy.

William’s lips brushed your temple, his voice hoarse but full of warmth. “You’re incredible, älskling,” he murmured, the sincerity in his tone making your chest ache in the best way. “That was… everything.”

You smiled softly, your hands sliding down his back as you pulled him closer, reveling in the comfort of his embrace. “So worth the wait,” you whispered, your voice still a little breathless, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d say you passed your lesson with perfect marks,” he teased, his grin returning, though there was nothing but adoration in his gaze.

“Good,” you replied, feeling a rush of boldness as you looked up at him. “Because I’d be happy to take a few more.”

His low laugh sent a pleasant shiver through you as he leaned down to kiss you again.

#my asks #18+ smut #inexperienced!reader x Willy #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey smut

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strangerthingsfanworkrecs · 3 days ago

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Artist Highlight: Jo-Harrington

This week, we're highlighting @jo-harrington! All recs this week will be for her work. @jo-harrington writes for the Stranger Things Fandom, with a special focus on xOC, and xReader fics. She's also a great beta-editor and design all the graphics for her fics! We're highlighting Jo for her incredible world building and strong OCs.

You should check out her Store Manager Verse fics for some great fluff and top-tier retail angst Jo answered some questions about her creative process and her work under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I’ve been an avid ST Fan since the beginning. My old Store Manager and I watched the first episode in the backroom of our store while folding t-shirts and rest was history. Fic-wise, a certain Metalhead Dungeon Master brought me out of a fanfiction posting hiatus and I haven’t looked back since.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

Platonic is always going to be the Hellfire Club boys. I love writing their adventures. Their friendship is epic and deserves to be explored and celebrated. Romantic…EddiexOC or EddiexReader. I mean, I’ve been an xOC girl since my first fandom. xReader is new for me but it’s almost an extension of xOC. I always joke that I’m allowed ONE epic borbo obsession love of my life per decade and I’ll give them one canon pairing but the rest are OCs.

What's your typical writing process like?

I have an idea, I write it down, I get sick of working on a chapter, I don’t edit, I post. (Which is funny because when I beta, I am a lot more detailed. But for my own work I just need it out of my head.) It might not be the best. It could probably read better or have less typos or mistakes. But it’s always from the heart.

How do you come up with your OCs?

I sit there for a long time and figure out how I can put a part of myself into a story. Oops was I not supposed to say that? Sometimes you think of a character that you just can’t help but want to write. But even if they aren’t a manifestation of your physical self or your personality, they almost always end up being an extension of you in some ways, or something you aspire to be. You also need to add some attributes you hate into them, so that they’re not too perfect and you can throttle them around and make them suffer and not feel too bad/let it become a self hatred thing.

What has been your favorite project so far? Why?

Store Manager Verse. (EMxReader) Retail is who I am and who I’ve always been. I had a mall romance irl that went south. So it was a way to rewrite my past with my comfort character…and also give said comfort character a happy ending as well.

What has been your hardest project so far? Why?

As Above, So Below. (EMxOC) It is a passion project, it is a beast, every chapter takes an emotional toll on me and it takes a month—if not more—to recover. But it has been the single most fulfilling project that I’ve worked on in the 20 years I’ve been writing fanfiction. I've been working on it for about 2 years now. 3 more chapters til the end…I’m gonna be very sad when it’s over.

Have you ever had a creative block? How did you get over it?

My brain is just a beehive that I shake every now and again to get the bees angry. Honestly, the bigger block I get into is self-doubt. I have no problem finding the words, it’s the courage to put them to paper I struggle with at times.

Is there a big source of inspiration for you? Books? Art? Games?

Yes all of the above. But in all seriousness, life experience is the best inspiration. There’s only so much research you can do. Truly for me, the canon characters are the source of inspiration. Then I take from things I’ve done, things I’ve read, places I’ve been in order to take an idea to a fully formed plot.

Is there an upcoming project you're particularly excited about?

Eddie Munson Big Bang. I know you’re gonna hear that a lot. I love creating really ambitious AUs and I think this one is really testing my abilities as a writer. It's a crossover fic, in a way, but with a lot of original plot folded in. I hope I do both fandoms/universes justice.

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

I’m from the Midwest, so thank you for listening to all of my long-winded answers. Haha.

#writer highlight #strangerthingsfanarthighlights #stranger things #x oc #x reader

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zoswriting · 3 days ago

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✦ baby babbles

⤷ synopsis : your husband had left for a week for a mission, and your baby had a lot to say about it…

⤷ a/n : i saw a video on tiktok where a guy just came back from the army, and his daughter was conveying her… distaste for his leave in unintelligible words, and i just thought “that’s shoto.” now we’re here.

⤷ warnings : fluff, f!reader, husband!shoto, dad!shoto, you have a five month old daughter, use of pet names—‘my love’, ‘love’, ‘sweetheart’, plus some other cute ones. overall, just a very cute fic. enjoy!

you weren’t expecting your husband to be home today. not at all. if anything, you could’ve sworn he’d be back in at least another three days. but, here he is—standing outside of your house in his navy blue hero costume, adorned with its signature silver-and-red accents. you stand there, mouth agape, and all he does is just smiles; that silly little lopsided smile that only you get the very privilege of seeing. you really shouldn’t be shocked that he’s right there, but for some reason, you definitely need a moment to take him in. your eyes flicker up then down, and then immediately catch sight of the flowers he’s holding. god, this man.

you probably would’ve immediately ran and jumped onto him, straight into his arms as soon as you saw the slightest peek of red and white hair through the frosted glass window in your door, but that’s a little hard to do when you have a very wriggly five month old who you’re holding on your hip. speaking of which, as soon as she catches sight of her dad, she immediately starts talking—and by talking, i mean babbling and saying things that only she could understand.

“hi, my love,” shoto murmurs as he pulls you into him with his free hand—the one not holding the flowers—and kissing the top of your head. the child in your arms whines at her lack of affection, so he leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek, earning a heart-melting giggle from her.

“hi, jesus. sorry, i—god, i wasn’t expecting you. i’d hug you properly, but that’s kinda hard to do right now,” you finally get out, looking down to the wiggly thing on your hip, who’s trying desperately to get her father to hold her whilst still rambling on. “i think she’s trying to tell you how sad she is that you left us both,” you tease, raising your head to look back at him, just to be met with an eye roll.

“‘left you both’, hm? i was gone five days, sweetheart,” he chuckles lowly, in that tone that you’ve been missing way too much, it’s almost pathetic. he sets the flowers down on the entryway table before picking up your child in his arms, gently holding her above his head. he raises an eyebrow at her incessant coos. “uh-huh. i know, i’m awful for leaving both you and your mother alone, aren’t i?” his voice is soft as he speaks to your kid; it never fails to make a love-sick grin spread right across your face.

you decide then that you should probably put your daughter to bed—you were just about to before he showed up, anyway—so you quickly rush off to her nursery and do your best to settle her down as fast and easily as you can, your body practically buzzing with excitement at the thought of your husband being home after so long. she’s a good baby, not one to fuss when it’s time to put her down, and it’s then when she’s asleep that you realise she really does look like her father. they have the same sleepy expression.

by the time you hurry yourself down the stairs, shoto’s already moving towards you, capturing you in a tight hug. you wrap your arms around his torso and bring him in even closer until not even a sheet of paper can fit between the two of you. he mumbles a soft “god, i’ve missed you,” into your hair before pulling back slightly, just enough to finally get your plush lips on his.

“i missed you more,” you reply against his lips, sighing at the sheer proximity that you’ve been craving for so long. you stand there for a while, not moving, just staying in each other’s embrace. you can hear your baby quietly babbling to herself in her sleep.

#bnha shoto #pro hero shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto fluff #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #shoto x you

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thegreymarveljedi · 2 days ago

Text

Surprise for You

(Wrecker x Reader)

Here is a story that came to me out of the blue, super happy and fluffy with some spice thrown in. Why not right? I love Wrecker’s character, he’s a giant teddy bear with a heart of gold and a winning smile.

All of the bad batch deserve to be happy and that’s how this one shot goes. Tech is alive in this one too, if you’ve read my other stories you know why, cause I also love him and he didn’t deserve to die. This is a post! Tantiss story so they’re on Pabu living their best lives.

(Divider done by @snotbuggle )

Warnings: FLUFF, SMUTT, lingerie, teasing, p in v sex, size! Kink, breeding! kink, nipple play, rough sex, slow/fast pace, oral f! Receiving, pet names, cum play, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, cumflation

Words: 6.6+K (I’m not sorry)

“Mesh’la! I’m home and I’ve got dinner for us!”

“Sounds good honey! I’ll be right out okay?”

“Take your time ner sarad,” Wrecker spoke as he placed the fresh vegetables and fish on the counter in their kitchen. He smiled contently at the little home they had built together. It was a cozy place where he could relax and not have to look over his shoulder for fear of danger. Big enough for him to fit comfortably and have plenty of manoeuvring room but small enough not to feel overwhelming and uncomfortable.

Wrecker and his brothers had been living on Pabu for close to a full year now, making their own way and helping the citizens of the island as best they could. He himself had become a fisherman, going out on the boat daily and catching what he could. He found that he enjoyed the serenity that fishing brought, the cool breeze off the ocean making him feel like he was receiving a very nice hug. The other fishermen who went with him enjoyed listening to his stories as well as his joy when he’d catch a big fish, his happiness and excitement contagious.

Hunter had become a woodworker, making things for the island and helping to build things when needed. He was skilled with his hands, helping to build new homes and improve currents ones. He had found such peace in the work, using his enhancements for crafting and various carpentry jobs.

Crosshair had made his living as a farmer, growing fruits and vegetables and selling them at the local market. It had taken him a few weeks to truly feel comfortable being around the people especially after loosing his hand. But slowly and surely he came out of his shell. He became a new person; less snarky, more relaxed and a lot happier.

Tech had become a doctor and a therapist, working in the island clinic along side (Y/N). He had wanted to do something more with his vast knowledge after Tantiss. He was determined to stay away from the fighting but still wanted to aid his traumatized brothers. He found peace in helping, always being there for any clone that Rex and Echo brought to the island.

(Y/N) had been the Bad batch’s Jedi medic since just after the start of the war. She had been so soft spoken and kind to the batch. Always there to lend a hand and patch them up after difficult missions.

She and Wrecker had gotten together during the middle of the war, both shy in showing their love for one another but it was meant to be. After everything they had been through, together and as a squad, they deserved to be happy.

Wrecker had proposed right after Tantiss, not wanting to waste another minute of time without calling (Y/N) his wife. She had said yes without a second thought and everyone was ecstatic, Omega most of all. She saw (Y/N) as a mother figure and couldn’t wait to have some part in the wedding.

She had insisted on helping with every step she could, even learning to make dresses if she needed to. Everyone had laughed at her enthusiasm, happy that she was so excited.

Wrecker sat on the couch, reclined with his head resting on the back of it and a smile on his face, reflecting on the past year. Life was good now, Tantiss far behind them. He was content and his brothers were happy which is all he could ask for. He had a beautiful wife, a great home and loving people surrounding him. It was all too good to be true, but it was his reality now.

“Jariler?”

Wrecker was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the voice, turning his head to the side a little at the call of his nickname, though he was not prepared for what greeted him. His eyes went wide as saucers, sitting up a little at the sight of his wife in the doorway to their bedroom.

(Y/N) was wearing the most gorgeous silk lingerie, red in colour, paired with a sexy and seductive long black robe. Both pieces of clothing extenuated her body, hips and breasts both looking evening bigger than normal. Her legs were shimmering in the dying light of the day that cascaded through the window, her face lighting up in a golden hue.

“Woah,” was all Wrecker could think to respond with, all other words and thoughts leaving his head as he stared at his wife. She smiled shy at him, adjusting the robe a little bit and doing a little spin, causing the robe to fan out around her.

“Do you like it?” She asked and Wrecker just kept staring at her, his mouth open and eyes wide. He had no words available to him to describe how amazing she looked, her beauty unmatched by anything he had ever seen. She began to fidget a little more before Wrecker finally snapped out of his shock and stood up quickly, making a beeline for (Y/N) and wrapping his arms around her. He picked her up and spun her around making her laugh, his own joyous chuckle leaking out into the air.

“Mesh’la. You look absolutely stunning in this,” Wrecker said as he placed his wife back on her feet slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. She smiled shyly up at him, her hands resting on his shoulders as she looked at him. Wrecker too another moment to admire her before he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, bulling her cheek once he did. She leaned into his large palm, feeling the warmth radiating off his hand.

At that moment it was just them and nothing else, the world seemingly drowned out around them. The soft sounds of the ocean could be heard and the moon-yo’s too but nothing else existed in their home. Wrecker took (Y/N)’s hand and gave her a spin, resting his hand on her hip as she completed the 360 turn. (Y/N) smiled and placed one of her hands on Wrecker’s shoulder again, the other finding his other hand and holding it.

Wrecker clued into what she wanted and lifted there joined hands together, beginning to sway with his beloved in his arms just like they had done on their wedding day. They had no music in the moment but neither of them seemed to care much, and in the dying light of dusk, they danced together in their living room, content just to be in each others arms.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner cyare,” Wrecker whispered softly as he leaned down and placed his forehead against (Y/N)’s. She smiled and returned the words, closing her eyes and allowing the last of the days warmth to envelop her along with Wreckers. She closed her eyes contently, beginning to hum a small tune as their only song to dance too.

Wrecker smiled and moved them around the living room a little more, twirling (Y/N) around and watching as the robe fanned out around her once more. It was mesmerizing to watch, the fabric soft and luscious, making her look like a vision from the maker. Wrecker pulled her back into his arms, slowing their movements down until they were swaying in place again, smiling like idiots at one another. They stayed there for another moment before Wrecker let go of her hand, moving to place it against her other hip.

She smiled as a small shiver ran through her body, Wrecker’s hands moving to be inside the robe she wore, running them up and down her sides teasingly. He squeezed her hips before moving his hands down to ass, giving it a firm squeeze making (Y/N) gasp.

“Wrecker,” she whispered to him, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. He had a mischievous smirk on his face as he continued to fondle her behind, pulling his wife impossibly closer to him.

“Yes my love?” Wrecker replied his eyes roaming over her chest. He was fixated on her breasts, the material of her lingerie framing them perfectly. It made them look so round and perfect, her nipples poking through the fabric as another shiver wracked her body.

(Y/N)’s body arched into Wrecker’s touch as he moved his hands upward, running his thumbs over her perked nipples. She whined at the feeling, her legs beginning to shake as Wrecker teased her. She had worn the lingerie to entice him, though the amount of love he had shown her had been a nice addition to the sexy night she was hoping to have. She keened again as Wrecker continued to play with her breasts through the fabric of her bra, the words she had on her mind evaporating before they could leave her lips.

“What is it net sarad?” Wrecker asked again, his smirk only growing wider as he watched (Y/N)’s nipples harden even more. He knew what he was doing to her, playing her body like a well practiced instrument with dexterity and ease. (Y/N) keened again, her hands finding some purchase on Wreckers biceps, squeezing the firm muscles as a way of grounding.

“Need you Wrecker… please,” she moaned out as Wrecker gave her breasts a squeeze grinning as she threw her head back. He knew what he was doing to her but he also knew what she was doing, he outfit of choice not just something casual she would usually wear around the house.

“Is that what this outfit was for? Get me all worked up so I would fuck ya mesh’la?” Wrecker said huskily and (Y/N) nodded, not even trying to deny her intentions. She could never lie to her gentle giant husband, Wrecker being able to read her like time bomb instruction manual. Wrecker chuckled darkly at his wife, pulling away almost fully to gaze over her gorgeous body again.

“I could devour you cyar’ika. Make you cum on my tongue again and again and again,” he said and pulled her back into his, burying his face in her neck. (Y/N) let out a sinful moan as Wrecker bit down, sucking a mark into her flesh as a way to claim her as his.

“But,” he said and pulled back, admiring his handy work on her neck. She stood there with glazed eyes, legs shaking and an adorably dopey grin on her face, though it disappeared when Wrecker pulled away fully.

“B-but what?” She asked shakily and reached for him, afraid that something was wrong.

“We need to eat dinner first! I don’t want these ingredients to go to waste,” he said with a smile, one that told (Y/N) that he was genuine. She titled her head to the right and tried to hold back a small sigh of frustration, the mood of their previous activities almost completely vanishing. She nodded and went to turn away, ready to walk back to their bedroom and get changed into other clothes.

Before (Y/N) got three full step away from him, Wrecker let out a playful roar and came at her from behind, picking her up and spinning her around again. He laughed at the yelp she let out, her body tensing before she relaxed her feeling meeting the ground again. Wrecker pulled (Y/N) against him, grinding his still semi hard erection against her plump behind, reaching his hands around her body to grab at her breasts again. She moaned at both sensations her head falling back against his chest as he ravaged her body and neck, peppering nips and kisses wherever he could reach.

“You didn’t think I was serious did you?” Wrecker whispered in her ear, his voice deep and teasing. (Y/N) nodded and curled her arms up to hold Wreckers forearms, his hands still playing with her breasts.

“O-of course I thought y-ohh, you were serious,” she replied quietly, hearing Wrecker chuckle deeply.

“I would never do that to you cyar’ika. You’ve got me harder than durasteel right now with how sexy you look,” he said huskily, voice dripping with the promise to take her to bed and fuck her good.

“Mmm, Wrecker. Honey please.”

“You go get comfy in our bed ner Sarad. I’m going to put the fish and vegetables away quickly,” he said and (Y/N) nodded, practically sprinting back to their bedroom when Wrecker released her, looking forward to their night of fun to come.

Wrecker chuckled as he watched his beloved wife retreat to their room, ready to fuck her brains out all night long. He quickly followed through with his previously stated task, putting away his catch of the day along with the vegetables in their big fridge before he too made it to the bedroom.

As he got closer to the room he could see a faint light coming from it, a sweet smell that he somehow didn’t catch before wafting out. When he entered, he was greeted by the soft smell of berries and vanilla, incense burning on the dresser and tea candles lighting the room in a soft glow. Everything else had been set up as well, their usual canteens of water and a pile of snacks for after their love making as well as clean sheets and towels waiting to be used.

(Y/N) was sprawled out in the middle of the bed, robe now discarded and hung up as to not get ruined and her lingerie set still remaining on her body. They made eye contact as Wrecker entered the room, both looking over each other with hungry eyes. Wrecker let out a teasing growl, his Adam’s apple rippling and his muscles tensing. (Y/N)’s eyes roamed over her husbands frame, his body large and intimidating to most but soft and welcoming to her. She was practically stripping him with her eyes, yearning to feel his hands on her once again. Wrecker was doing the same, hungry eyes roaming over his wife’s perfect body, imagining all the things that he could do to her.

His eyes focused on her stomach, the soft supple flesh something he always enjoyed playing with. It wasn’t a very common thing but Wrecker loved it, running his hands over (Y/N)’s torso, feeling her soft skin and squishy stomach. Then his mind began wondering even more, to the possibility of other things. He imagined what she would look like big and round, her belly protruding and swollen with their children. Wrecker let the thoughts overwhelm him, imagining having a full house of little ones running around, seeing (Y/N), himself and even his brothers doting on their kids.

Wrecker was pulled out of his thoughts by a gentle hand on his cheek, flinching at the unexpected contact. He hadn’t even noticed (Y/N) get up from the bed, her hand warm as it rested on his face. He looked down into her eyes, her (E/C) pools conveying an aura of slight confusion.

“What is it Wrecker? What’s wrong,” she asked quietly, running her thumb over his cheek and underneath his eye. It was then he realized that there were tears streaming down his face slowly, the thoughts of what could be making him emotional. He lifted his hand to hold (Y/N)’s that rested in his cheek, his eyes never leaving hers this time.

“Was just thinkin’ bout our future. Our life together and how happy you make me,” he said, leaning down and connecting their foreheads together in a keldabe kiss. (Y/N) smiled and closed her eyes at the gesture, content to give Wrecker a few moments to explain or to just stay put.

“You make me happy too Wrecker. I’m so lucky to have you in my arms,” (Y/N) replied, moving her body impossibly closer to his large frame, soaking up the natural heat he exuded.

“I can just picture you all big and round, swollen with our ad’ikas inside you,” Wrecker let slip his thoughts, his mind wondering to the future his subconscious mind had conjured up, feeling nothing but love in his heart as he watched his children run around and laugh with his wife following lot to far behind. He was once again snapped out of his thoughts by a soft groan, (Y/N) tapping into his thoughts to see what he was seeing. It was beautiful, so many of them running around and the thought of how they got there made her knees weak and her pussy wet.

They both blinked out of the fantasy together, meeting each other’s eyes once more before Wrecker picked her up with ease, her legs wrapping securely around his waist. He backed them both up to the wall, one that they purposely left completely bare for nights like this. Their lips met in a fiery kiss, the imaginary world they had seen fuelling their already stoked desires. Wreckers hands were on (Y/N)’s behind in a heart beat, fondling her rounded globes and kneeling the soft flesh. She whined into their kiss, his hands feeling immaculate as they groped her ass.

“Honey,” (Y/N) moaned, breaking the kiss as Wrecker pulled away and buried his face in her neck, nipping and sucking marks into it. She giggled slightly before sighing as he reached her ticklish spot, sucking a mark onto it before blowing a raspberry to the spot.

“Wrecker!” She laughed as he chuckled, planting more little kisses all over her neck and face. Her smile was wide, meeting her eyes and creating crows feet at the sides. Her hands wrapped around his neck, her legs squeezing his waist and grinding herself against his front.

“Kriff, mesh’la that feels so good,” Wrecker said, his eyes closing as he savoured the feeling of his wife grinding on him. One of his hands moved from her ass and instead took hold of her wrists, pinning them up above her head. The new angle elongated her torso, her breasts bouncing as her core was somehow placed more firmly against his crotch.

Wreckers eyes found (Y/N)’s chest again, her breast practically in his face with the position they were in. Her nipples were hard, the little pebbles poking through the fabric of her bra. Wrecker growled and dove forward again, this time hiding his face between her boobs before turning his head and taking one of her purt nipple into his mouth. (Y/N) moaned at the sensation, Wrecker’s talented tongue and the fabric of the bra working together to bring her so much pleasure. Wrecker’s other hand gravitated up towards her other breast, taking the pert little bud between in large fingers and rolling it.

“Fuck baby that feels so good,” (Y/N) moaned her head thrown back as Wrecker lavished her chest with attention and affection. Wrecker growled against her, moving back up her body to her neck once more. He laid a few more bite marks around her neck as his hand continued to tweak one of her breast. The feeling made her grind down even harder on Wrecker’s crotch, chasing her release already.

Wrecker must have understood her body language like he always does, lifting his thigh and pushing it against the wall, effectively having (Y/N) ride his thigh. She groaned is Wreckers good ear, feeling his thigh tense as she begin to grind on it.

“That’s it mesh’la, grind your pussy on my thigh. You like it don’t you?” He teased, not allowing her a response as he sealed his lips against hers. All (Y/N) could do was moan into the kiss and she sped up her pace, her high right there. Wrecker indulged her, tensing and relaxing his thigh over and over until (Y/N) broke the kiss and cried out.

“Wreckerrr!” She moaned as she was thrust over the edge, her orgasm hitting her like a tone of bricks. Wrecker smirked as he assisted her in riding it out, slowly dragging his thigh out from between her legs and helping her to set her feet on the ground. (Y/N)’s knees buckled, almost collapsing forward had it not been for Wrecker holding her up. She giggled dazedly up at her husband, her post orgasmic state making her feel light and airy.

“Don’t tell me that’s all you have in you tonight cyar’ika,” Wrecker whispered, letting go of her arms and instead wrapping his around her waist. (Y/N) frantically shook her head, eyes meeting Wrecker’s as she came back to reality again.

“No way am I done. You haven’t filled me up yet,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Wrecker groaned at the filthy words that left her lips, his mind going back to the fantasy he had envisioned when he first walked into their bedroom. His reserve and resolve crumbled as he picked her up by her hips, effortlessly tossing her on their bed. She bounced on the bed and giggled, sitting up on her elbows and letting her head fall back between her shoulders as Wrecker covered her body with his own.

“Gonna make you feel so good cyare. Gonna fill that tight pussy up till you’re you can’t take anymore,” Wrecker said making (Y/N) whimper. The promise behind his words was something she would hold him too, wanting to feel every inch of him inside of her. He was big, and she loved that about him, his size making her feel safe all while giving her an insane amount of pleasure. His body dwarfed her own, making her feel small but loved. He dove back in and kissed down her body, leaving love bites wherever there was exposed skin as he made his way down to her lower lips. They were hidden from his gaze by her beautiful red panties, the lace fabric teasing him as he looked on.

“These look so beautiful on you ner sarad. Shame I’m gonna have to take ‘em off ya,” Wrecker said, slowly trailing his hands down to body to the waist band of her underwear. There was no protest from (Y/N) as she lifted her hips, giving Wrecker more room to remove her undergarments. He did so with delicate hands kissing down her smooth legs as he went. Once he had her panties completely off he brought them to his noes, taking a large inhale.

She always smelled so sweet to him, her natural lubricant something he was enamoured with no matter how odd it sounded. His eyes closed as he took it all before throwing the panties aside and spreading his wife’s gorgeous legs. She didn’t resist the attention, watching as Wrecker exposed her pussy to his eyes. He groaned, not waiting another second before going head first between her legs, licking a long strip from her hole to her clit, pulling a long loud moan from (Y/N)’s lips.

“FUckkk.” Her voice was like a proton torpedo to his ears, the sound making a shutter run through him and straight to his cock. He was already rock hard but the sounds he was pulling from her made him twitch. He continued to devour her pussy, alternating between sucking on her clit and fucking her with his tongue. He was in heaven at this moment, moving her legs so they rested over his broad shoulders. This position gave him more access to her pussy, moving his left hand down to rub her clit as he sucked at her pussy.

“Make me feel so good Wreck. Fuck I love it when you fuck my pussy with your tongue,” (Y/N) moaned, looking down at Wrecker as his eyes looked back at her, his head not moving from its place between her thighs. His fingers and mouth switched places, his lips capturing her clit as he eased a finger into her. He groaned as her pussy swallowed his finger effortlessly, feeling her clench even if he hadn’t done much of anything to her yet.

“Haven’t even stretched you open and you’re already tightening round my finger,” he groaned against her clit, the vibration sending shockwave through her spine.

“Can’t help it big guy, you make me feel so go-“ her finally word was cut off as Wrecker entered two more fingers in at once, pumping them in slowly until he was up to his knuckle.

“Nghh Wrecker baby please, please I need you,” she moaned, falling back into the pillows and wreathing around. Her hips bucked up to meet Wreckers tongue and fingers, drawing her pleasure out.

“Gotta open you up first baby, can’t have you hurting yourself on my cock,” Wrecker teased, beginning to move his fingers in and out of her tight opening faster. (Y/N) screamed, tossing her head from side to side and Wrecker drew moan after moan out of her. Her legs began to twitch on his shoulders, hands coming up to cover her mouth but was stopped by Wrecker taking hold of her wrists.

“No you don’t sweet girl. I want to hear every sound that comes outta that filthy little mouth of yours,” he growled, curling his fingers against her g-spot making keen and moan loudly. His words set her body aflame, his fingers, his mouth, him, making her come undone for the second time that evening.

“Ahhhhh~” Her hips bucked as her orgasm overwhelmed her, key shaking and spasming with the force of it. Wrecker held her hips still as she twitched, eyes closed as she continued to convulse. Wrecker smirked as he watched his wife come undone, proud of himself for what he could accomplish. Wrecker didn’t hold back as he thrusted his fingers into (Y/N)’s still clenching walls, making her yell in surprise before another scream left her lips.

“W-w-wreckerrrrr.” Her voice was broken as Wrecker continued to finger fuck her again, scissoring his fingers against her velvety insides. His goal was to make her come at least one more time before he impaled her on his large cock, not wanting to hurt her. It didn’t take long for him to accomplish this goal and (Y/N)’s back arched, a pornographic sound leaving her lips as she exploded.

Wrecker braced himself against the bed as the force of her orgasm forced his fingers out of her dripping pussy, her juices exploding all over the sheets and himself. Wrecker watched awe as (Y/N) squirt, her pussy opening and closing as she panted heavily. (Y/N) opened her eyes to look at Wrecker, watching at he took his fingered into his mouth and sucked them clean of her cum. (Y/N)’s eyes rolled back, her body still twitching with the feeling of her orgasm and the over stimulation.

“That was beautiful cyar’ika. Such a good girl for me,” Wrecker said, listening as (Y/N) huffed out a laugh at his words.

“Fuck,” was all she could get out as wrecker chuckled and made his way up her body. He kissed along her torso, feeling the thin layer of sweat that kissed her skin. When he reached her lips again, Wrecker captured them in a loving kiss, one too delicate for the service he had just provided her with. (Y/N) brought her hands up to Wrecker face, holding his cheeks as she deepened the kiss, tasting herself in his lips.

When they pulled away from one another, (Y/N) found nothing but love and adoration in Wrecker’s gaze, his eyes glazed over as he looked at her.

“That was something else my love. So fucking sexy,” Wrecker said making (Y/N) smile.

“I’m glad you thought so Wreck,” she said, smoothing her hand down to the top of his shirt before giving it a tug, “but I really really need you to fuck me.” She emphasizes her words with another tug to his shirts, needing to feel his skin against hers.

Wrecker couldn’t argue with her, wanting to feel her tight heat wrapped around his engorged cock. Wrecker pulled away from her completely and made quick work of stripping off his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room as his belt and pants hit the ground next. (Y/N)’s mouth was watering at the sight of her husband, naked and dripping just for her. Wrecker was a gorgeous man, body sculpted as if he by the maker himself, his cock hanging heavy between his muscular thighs, the tip angry and red, dripping with precum.

(Y/N) groaned at the sight, taking in everything about Wrecker even if she had seen it many times before. His size always amazed her, the length and girth of his cock something that always made her pant. She sat and quickly took good of Wrecker’s large appendage, stroking it as best she could with both hands. The gentle giant groaned the sensation, his head falling back as he enjoyed the attention from his wife. Her hands were the perfect size for his cock, both hands encompassing him. (Y/N) lifted his cock to her mouth, licking a strip up the veiny side before placing a kiss to the swollen tip.

“Fuck mesh’la. Do that again,” Wrecker said, his hands making their way into (Y/N)’s hair. His wife obliged his wishes, repeating her previous ministration before taking the tip of Wrecker’s cock into her mouth fully. The he groaned at the sensation, tightening his grip on her hair but not pushing her any further. From her position, (Y/N) flickered her eyes up to look at Wrecker, watching his face contort into one of sheer bliss. She smiled around him before closing her eyes, hollowing her cheeks, and taking a deep breath before taking more of him into her mouth.

Wrecker moaned a loud uncontrolled moan, his cock twitching in (Y/N)’s mouth. It felt so good, it away felt like heaven when his wife had her warm mouth wrapped around him. One of her hands left his cock and instead, made its way to his heavy sack, his balls full and ready to combust. She held them gentle in her hands, knowing how sensitive they could be especially when love making. She could feel Wrecker’s hold on her hair tighten ever so slightly more, his breath coming out in short pants.

“Love it when you suck me off cyar’ika. Love the feelin of my dick in your mouth, feels so good,” he praised, his words going straight to (Y/N)’s cunt. She moaned around him with in turn made wrecker groan again, forcing her mouth a little further down his cock. (Y/N) choked in surprise before steeling herself and her confidence, taking as much of Wreckers as she could. It was a little easier with no gag reflex to hold her back, but Wrecker was so big it was still a struggle at times.

(Y/N) gave Wreckers sack a gentle squeeze , rolling them in the palm of her hand as she sucked her husband’s cock. She moved up and down his cock, his hands slightly guiding her movement to help her as she tightened her lips. Wreckers resolve was crumbling, his legs beginning to tremble at the tremendous feeling of his wife giving him head.

“Mmm ad’ika, such a pretty mouth on ya. So good at sucking my cock. You love it don’t you sweet girl, deepthroating my dick so far it bulges in your neck.” Wrecker’s words were filthy, emphasizing his last point by wrapping one of his hands around her neck very gently. She could feel the way his cock protruded out while deep in her throat, the realization only adding to her pleasure and his.

“Fuck Mesh’la,” Wrecker shouted, feeling himself teetering on the edge of his orgasm. But he couldn’t do it yet, not in her mouth, he needed to be inside her pussy. Wrecker held (Y/N)’s hair and pulled her off his cock, a few strings of saliva connecting them together. (Y/N) whined in protest, already missing the feeling of him inside her mouth.

“Why’d you stopppp,” she whimpered, Wreckers deep throaty chuckle making her pout. He spoke no words as he lifted her up and flipped her over, depositing her on the bed on her hands and knees. She let out a short “ahhh” of surprise, not having been fully ready for the move.

Wrecker slotted himself behind her, grinding himself against her plump round ass cheeks. He bent over (Y/N)’s body, kissing up her back to between her shoulder blades, moving his hands up and down her side. He took a second to unclasp her bra finally, tossing it aside before bringing his hands around to grab at her breasts again. (Y/N) sighed, the feeling of Wrecker’s big warm hands on her chest something she would never tire of.

“Ready for me mesh’la? Ready to take my big cock in your tight pussy,” Wrecker whispered in his wife’s ear, feeling a full body shudder run through her as she nodded.

“Please Wrecker. Please honey, fill me up. Need you inside me please,” she pleaded, wiggling her ass again his crotch. Wrecker groaned in her ear, pulling back to line himself up with her cunt. He teasingly ran his tip over her slit and down to her clit, collecting her essence to use as lube. She moaned at the feeling, falling forward and burying her face in the pillows. With this position, her ass was in the air, ready and waiting for Wrecker to take her. He got the message quickly, taking a deep breath, moving his hands to her hips and lining himself up with her.

Slowly he sunk his girthy cock into we wet waiting cavern, moaning lowly as she basically swallowed him. (Y/N) gripped the sheets of their bed, burying her face in the pillows while trying to keep from screaming at how good it felt to have Wrecker inside her.

“Fuck ad’ika, you take me so well. So stretched out around me,” Wrecker said, sinking a few more inches in before coming to a halt. (Y/N) whined again, fisting the sheets as Wrecker stilled inside of her. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, watching as Wrecker took deep labouring breaths, eyes closed.

“You okay big guy?” (Y/N)’s voice was teasing even if she was out of breath, wiggling her hips to entice her husband. Wreckers hands tighten on her hips like vice, his gaze hard but his lips pulled up in a sinful smirk. He said nothing in retaliation to (Y/N)’s words but instead, thrusted the rest of his cock into her making her scream.

“FUCKK!”

“That feel good an’edee?”

“So gooddd. Please move please please please,” (Y/N)’s words were jumbled together as Wrecker caved and gave her what she wanted, what they both wanted. He thrusted into her tight heat slowly, drawing out the sensation of her smooth walls against his veiny cock. They moaned together as Wrecker fucked into her, slowly, wantingly, hands holding her love handles and using them to his advantage.

He picked up the pace, thrusting into her wet walls faster making her jolt and groan into the sheets again. His balls slapped against he clit, the feeling eccentric and even more pleasurable than before. She couldn’t contain her sounds of pleasure as Wrecker ravaged her pussy, impaling her with his impressive length.

“Fuck Wrecker, please fill me up. Fill me with your cum. Pleaseeee,” (Y/N) pleaded, jerking her hips back to meet Wreckers thrusts. He groaned at the display, tightening his grip on her hips before speeding up his pace relentlessly. The new speed made (Y/N) scream, his cock reaching new points inside her pussy, even pushing on her cervix.

“Oh fuckkkkkk.”

“That feel good ad’ika? Does my big cock feel good inside you?”

(Y/N) could respond as Wrecker fucked the air right out of her lungs, his thrusts taking her breath away with ease. He was close and he could feel that (Y/N) was too, her cunt clenching around him and halting his thrusts momentarily. He leaned over her body dwarfing her with his size and reaching around to grab at her breast again. Using his brute strength, Wrecker lifted (Y/N)’s torso up so that her back rested against his chest. He tweaked her nipples and rolled them between his toe finger and thumb making her moan even more. He began to thrust into her at a rough and brutal pace, skin slapping against skin the only sound to be heard besides pornographic moans.

“Fuck Wrecker! Pleasepleasepleasee!” From here, he looked down to see that her belly was bulging with every thrust of his cock, the sight something that almost sent him over the edge. Wrecker leaned down ever so slightly and nipped at (Y/N)’s ear, growling into it and letting one of his hands travel down her body to where her stomach bulged with his cock.

“Gonna fill you up so much an’edee. Gonna breed this little pussy, toy want that don’t you cyar’ika.”

“YESSS! I want it so bad.”

“Gonna cum so hard inside you that it sticks. Gonna make you all round and swollen with our ad.”

“Wrecker!!” (Y/N) came with a shout of her husbands name, lower lips clenching and pussy convulsing around him. Her whole body twitched with the force of her orgasm, everything around them disappearing. Wrecker moved his other hand down to her clit, furiously rubbing the over sensitive bud to draw out her third orgasm of the night. She screamed again, legs trembling as she squirted for a second time that night, her body going rigid.

Wrecker thrusted a few more time before bending (Y/N) back over and stilling, coming with a shout of her name. He came deep inside her, his cum painting her walls and leaving nothing untouched. She could feel it in her tummy, his cum filling her up just as he promised. She was on cloud nine, so much excitement coursing through her body. Wrecker was panting above her, his dick still twitching with the simulation and the feeling of (Y/N)’s velvet walls enveloping him.

He slowly and carefully shifted their positions, laying on his side and pulling her with him to lay down. He spooned her body, keeping his softening cock inside her for as long as he could. He made good on his promise to breed her, filling her to the brim with his spend.

There were no sounds but that of their joined laboured breathing, both still coming down from ecstasy. (Y/N) lay there still as a door, limbs feeling like jello and not a thought in her head besides,

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed cyare. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that much,” Wrecker whispered, doing his best not to disrupt the blissful atmosphere they had created. (Y/N) let out a chorus of giggles, her brain foggy with pleasure.

“I feel full,” she said in a daze, her hand travelling down to join Wrecker’s on her stomach. She found that her stomach was bloated, a slight bulge present which made her gasp. She turned to look at Wrecker over her shoulder and saw that he was smirking right back at her, pleased with his work.

“I told you an’edee,” he said, nipping at her ear as he felt himself begin to harden again, “gonna breed this little pussy till it takes.”

—————

In my opinion, Wrecker is a big kinky boy who loves to fuck. And no one can change my mind!

Next story is scheduled for January 24th so keep an eye out for it! If you would like to be tagged in it, comment down below or on my ask page!

(Tags: @rinksu-no-joo @maniacalbooper @teesy738 )

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