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rin-may-1103 · 7 months ago

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Badger Day Au (part two)

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"Fourteen?" Aquaman repeats, turning his chair to face Danny. "Fourteen what? Days, weeks, months?"

Flash hissed like he was in pain, "Please don't say it's been fourteen months!"

Danny trailed his eyes away from the ceiling, away from the bothersome crack, and toward the single window in the room. He could just barely make out the Cassiopeia constellation. Its distinct W shape winked and flickered, drawing up a memory from a few loops into this whole mess. Tucker had wanted to comfort him, seeing as Danny had just broken down crying over how frustrated he was with everything.

The Ghost of Cassiopeia. Also known as IC 63, about 550 light years away.

A giant cloud of dust and gas. A nebula. Its ethereal glow reminded people of spirits they would see in haunted houses or fields. So they called it the ghost of Cassiopeia.

But it wasn't a ghost, it's simply hydrogen that's been bombarded with ultraviolet radiation from the nearby star. A blue giant called Gamma Cassiopeiae. It's also known as the center of the constellation. The light from the blue giant makes the majority of the nebula glow a vivid red. The blue around the edges is just light reflected off the dust within.

Tucker had joked that Danny should try and see how far he could get before the loop restarted. See if he could even get past Jupiter. Danny had just snorted and brushed his suggestion off. What was the point when he should be spending his time trying to fix the loop?

About six years in, Danny had given up and tried.

Eight months he had spent flying. He got further and further out into the void, surrounded by darkness and the beautiful stars in the distance to guide him. He never managed to make it past Pluto before he was brought back.

"Years," Danny confessed, his eyes still trained on the faraway stars.

"YEARS!?!" Superman cried, standing up so fast his chair was sent flying into the wall. Danny glanced back up at the crack, watching as it grew just a little larger, plaster dust sprinkling down like freshly fallen snow.

Sighing, Danny sat up and stared at the group. How many times has he had this conversation? How many times was he going to explain what was happening? How many times was he going to wake up in his bed just to restart all over again?

"Years," Danny repeated, "Fourteen years. Like I said, I've tried everything."

They sat in silence for a moment, just digesting his situation. Batman was standing still, his fists clenched tightly. Superman looked faint like he would pass out. Flash looked devastated.

Wonder Woman leaned forward, her brows furled in confusion, "Were you cursed, young one?"

"No, I checked. You checked. Heck, even Zatanna and Constantine have checked. I'm not cursed." Danny grumbled, slumping down to rest his head on the table.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to just curl up and sleep for the next however long. Wanted to hug Jazz and cry about how unfair it all was. Wanted to curl into his mother's side and cling until she made it all better. Hide behind his father until he knew it was safe.

but he couldn't.

Something always happened when he tried. If he stayed home from the very beginning of the day, the league would call him over and over again, convinced he was needed for the case Batman had. They even sent Flash over a few times just to search the city to drag him to the meeting.

(He was happy they hadn't figured out his civilian identity yet, but man was it hard to watch as Flash stuck his face into every nook and cranny around town yelling his name. Danny's lost count of how many times the man got overshadowed.)

If he managed to convince them that he was in a loop, then they found it would be safer for him to stay up on the watchtower. where they could keep an eye on him while searching for a way to break it.

Or, if he managed to convince them he was sick or something and they left him alone, Vlad would start acting up. Jack would call him on the phone to cancel Maddie's meeting with him because Danny was 'sick'. If he convinces Maddie to go and stay home with his dad, then Jack somehow opens the portal long enough for one of his rogues to slip through.

It just never ends. Everything he's tried ends with him having to go ghost and fight. The calmest day he's managed to have ended with Box ghost blasting the portal doors open so he could give him a homemade lunch from his wife, which then led the ghost to find Jack's new weapon box and go ballistic because of his obsession.

after that, he gave up spending time with his parents and focused more on his friends and Jazz. This was equally disastrous.

so, his safest option was to go to the meeting and stay with the league.

Glancing up, Danny watched as the time slowly changed on the clock; six twenty-nine, tick, tick, tick, six thirty.

Sighing, Danny sat up and held his hand out, making eye contact with Batman. He might as well get the day going, no use in wallowing in self-pity. He's done that plenty already.

"I already figured out what the cult wanted to do, we just need to figure out where their next meeting is. I'll fill you guys in on the rest." Danny added, wiggling his fingers in the hope it would make Batman move faster.

Batman sighed and handed him the folder. Once Danny had the folder, Batman sat down to listen to his report intently.

Flipping the file open, Danny grabbed the first page and showed it to the group, ignoring how a copy showed up on the big screen behind Batman. (again, why use paper if he was just going to project it?)

"This is the result of the cult's last meeting, two weeks ago. as you can see, the ground has been scorched and the ritual circle permanently carved into the cement." Tossing the paper and ignoring it as Flash scrambled to catch it, Danny grabbed the next couple of pages.

Holding up the seventy missing person reports, Danny placed them on the table and separated them into four different piles. "After some digging, Batman was able to figure out the pattern between the missing people. This group," Danny pointed to the one on the left, "consists of organ donors who were anemic."

pointing to the pile on the right, Danny continued, "This group is made up of meta-humans who have powers related to the elements. they also all happen to have more than one piercing, though Batman didn't really figure out if that had an impact on whether they were chosen or not..."

Pointing to the northern pile, Danny separated the top seven pages. "while everyone in this pile has some relation to an ancient and powerful witch from the 1500s, these seven are the only ones who still share her 'family' name. I'm not sure exactly how this affects the cult's motives, Batman hadn't shared that with me in all the loops so far."

Danny glared at Batman in annoyance, he didn't care if there was a good reason or not. Without fail, in each loop that Danny's made it through where Batman makes the connection; he would refuse to tell Danny about it.

Rolling his eyes at Batman's unwavering apathy, Danny continued, "The last pile consists of people who have been dead at some point in their lives. whether it be just a few seconds or a few weeks."

passing the reports around, Danny pulled the next page from the file. "Flash and Constantine were able to connect the past locations of the cult gatherings. Constantine figured out there was a specific magic signature that he could follow, so he had Flash drag him around the world to map the locations."

tapping the table, Danny selected the world map. Glancing at the paper he had pulled out, Danny marked the places with a red dot. Then he marked the places Constantine found in blue. Looking up, Danny found the league staring at him.

"What?" Danny huffed, shoving the hologram away from him. Batman grabbed it and started to examine it.

"So, do we need Constantine for this?" Green Lantern asks, scratching his head.

Shrugging, Danny tossed the folder over to Wonder Woman. "You can call him if you want, but he won't get here until noon. He's in the house of mystery dealing with a pixie infestation."

"pixie infestation?" Superman asks, turning to look over to Zatanna. Zatanna reached into her jacket and handed him a pamphlet, not turning away from watching Danny with curious eyes.

"Anyway, like I was saying. the cult's been going around taking all these people and using them in their rituals."

"you said you knew what they were trying to do, what was it?" Batman asked with a noticeable frown.

Sighing, Danny pinched his nose. "they've been trying to summon Pariah Dark."

"The ghost king!?!?" Zatanna squawked, slamming her hands onto the table.

"yeah, that bastard," Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. The cult hadn't been successful for all fourteen years now, so Danny wasn't too worried about it. But still... If something, anything really, changed just the slightest; would they succeed? Would they drag Prariah out of his sarcophagus and let him lose on the living?

Danny's already had to face him once, he didn't know if he could do it again. The Fenton ecto-skeleton suit had been ruined last time, to the point dad hadn't even tried to fix it.

"Bastard?" Aquaman repeated, eyes narrowed, "You speak as if you've met him before."

"I have," Danny admitted, "and I will again if we don't do something about the cult." What if this is the loop the cult succeeded? what if it's the next one, or the one after that? could Danny even do anything to prevent it?

Zatara sat down with a heavy thump, her eyes widening in shock. Danny lifted his brow, wondering what was wrong with her. She hadn't acted like this any other time? what was different? had he said something he hadn't last time? hmm, something to think about later.

"back to the case," Danny shrugged, turning to gesture at the hologram of the world. "we were able to narrow down the cult's next location to about seven hundred places. I was able to check off about six hundred and thirty these last few loops. That leaves about seventy places they could be."

Danny used a yellow dot to select the seventy places he still needed to check.

"um," Flash started, nervously glancing between Danny and the globe. "you just highlighted the whole grand cannon and all of Alaska... and the Himalayas.... and the-"

"Yep," Danny cut in, "Like I said, I checked off all the others. These are the last seventy I still need to check. I haven't before because it's a lot of ground to cover. I was hoping I'd catch a break and find the cult before I had to check all those places, but nope. The fruitloops just had to make it difficult.

"oh," Flash winced, "do, do you want me to check them out?"

sighing, Danny leaned back in his chair, "I would love to have you check them out, but you need a magic user who knows what they're looking for to go with you. it's why we haven't found them yet, it's taking forever."

"Oh," was the only response he got.

"you know what we are looking for?" Zatara asks, finally getting over whatever had surprised her.

"yeah, it's hard to explain. I'll have to bring you or the others to a previous place and show you."

"hmm, alright. after the meeting, why don't you bring me so that at least one more person can help start looking, until, john is freed up at noon?" she suggests, tilting her head to the side.

"sounds good with me," Danny shrugged. it's not like it'll hurt to have her looking around, heck, they might even get lucky and she'll find them.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #justice league #dp x dc crossover #Danny is stuck in a Groundhog Day kinda situation #and he would like to be let out now please #Batman Is very worried #so is everyone else #Badger Day Au #The Badger Day Au #part two

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justevelynnnn · 2 months ago

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Drabble for a protective logan of a pregnant!reader

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, a bit of feral logan, childbirth..

A/N: ive had this prompt on my mind for a whileee however i don’t think this will have a follow up cause i got kinda lazy towards the end

- He knows before you do honestly. Strong sense of smell and all that jazz. But also he senses your heart rate slightly increase even though you’re not doing anything

- You smell different..almost…sweeter? At least to him.

- A week after he noticed you tell him how you missed your period and he just just looks at you and nods like “duh, you’re pregnant…”

- You still go to Jean to get an ultrasound and what do ya know, there’s a bun in the oven!

- Immediately after it’s officially confirmed Logan forbids you to go on anymore missions or really do…anything..

- Going out with Storm? Where? Why? No, no, no stay here it’s too dangerous out there..

- He didn’t let you lift anything, do chores, cook…

- Nope nope nope just stay there.

- As time goes on you get a bit annoyed but you’ll admit it’s cute seeing him like this.

- He cuddles with you every single night, arm protectively slung around your belly. He kisses it every night and then your forehead. He’s so soft with you..

- As your bump started to show he just couldn’t stop looking. He was surprisingly very excited to be a father. He was gonna raise this kid right. Protect them from any harm as much as he can. You included.

- He’s always been protective over you but now?

- One day, You were trying to reach something and Scott comes by, noticing you need help and walks over to help you reach whatever you want. Unfortunately for him, Logan saw this from around the corner and also saw how Scott gently touched your side as he helped you.

- Logan saw red. He snarls and then lunged at Scott and damn near bites him. Scott jumps back a bit, startled by the sudden feralness.

- “Don’t. Touch. Her. Again. Got it, Summers?” Logan growled angrily.

- Scott just nodded and then quickly left.

- You scolded Logan immediately after but Logan ignored you and just looked at you for any “marks”

- So after that no one was to ever touch you unless it was Jean doing a check up. Or another mutant if she couldn’t.

- Logan didn’t care. In his mind he was keeping you 100% safe. From harm..germs…whatever

- He’d make you wear his clothes so his “scent” would be on you and also because your clothes were getting too tight

- Whatever you craved, he’d get it.

- If you wanted water at 4am, he’s up and going to get it immediately, like he wasn’t just sleeping moments before

- Back hurting? He’s now a licensed massage therapist.

- Someone’s cooking food that’s making you gag? He’s going into the kitchen and scolding whoever’s cooking.

- That one was a bit embarrassing but they never really minded and understood you were pregnant

- After a while you started to become more and more out of breath so now you reallyyyy couldn’t do anything. You had to beg Logan to at least let you get some fresh air or something because staying in bed all day was not the answer even if your feet were swelling and you back was killing you.

- He’d walk with you outside as you talked about your day and he just listened. He’d ask about the baby and how you felt and how he felt about becoming parents

- He was more cuddly when you neared the end of your third trimester. Hugging you more, kissing you more, talking to your now huge stomach and rubbing it and feeling when the baby kicked

- You both didn’t know if the baby was gonna be a mutant or not or the gender or anything but just knew it was healthy and that was honestly enough

- You decided to deliver at the mansion because well, the hospitals nearby did not like or tend to mutants at all..

- You started getting braxton hicks here and there and you knew the baby had dropped. It was getting hard to move and the mansion was on edge. Logan especially.

- He’d pace around you as you groan and winced in pain but told him, “False alarm honey…just another hick..”

- But was it? What if it’s time? What if you two ignore this and then it’s too late? What if something is wrong and and-

- There was alot of calming Logan down now..reassuring you’re fine

- A week before you were due, you were thrown a baby shower.

- It was Rogues idea and everyone gave you a little something. Diapers, Toys, bottles…

- They had all your favorite foods from your pregnancy, even the super weird cravings

- You cried.

- Logan got mad when he saw you cry. “Who did this?? Why is she crying? Was it you, Summers? Why i outta-“

- You tell him you’re just very happy and emotional right now and not sad. And, no, Scott did nothing wrong so please put him down oh my gosh…

- It’s true you were very emotional and hormonal the whole time and you were so ready to be done

- A week later, in the middle of the night you got up to use the bathroom for the 5th time. Not wanting to wake up Logan over and over just to walk to the bathroom, you went alone, waddling to the door.

- The second you got there though there you immediately started leaking. And you would’ve been embarrassed of you didn’t immediately have the worst braxton, no….this wasn’t that…this was more…

- “Logan. Logan!”

- Logan jumped up and and ran over to you asking what happened and what’s wrong..

- You start to tell him and suddenly you’re hit again with another contraction

- It was time.

- Logan woke up everyone he could after getting you tot he medical room.

- He left the students be but it’s not like they couldn’t hear you yelling anyways

- He stood by you the entire time as you squeezed his hand and cried in pain. He almost growled at Jean hooking you up the machines but he knew it was to monitor if you and the baby were okay.

- He was so focused on you that he didn’t care for everyone crowding also but when it was time to push he barked for everyone to get back even Jean

- He let you squeeze the life out of his hand as you pushed and encouraged you the whole time and wiped your forehead

- And after several minutes of this chaos…

- “Congratulations…you guys are now officially parents!” Jean says as she holds the crying newborn baby.

- As she helped lay the baby on your bare chest, you and Logan just smiled at your child.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #drabble #pregnant reader #xmen drabble #wolverine #wolverine x reader

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lacydollette · 25 days ago

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doll!reader was never a fan of bullying, so when toppers gf ruhtie decides to fight the pogues during their stay at the beach, she’s done taking her shit

warnings rafe x fem!reader, rafe being whipped for doll, suggestive content, explicit language, kooks vs. pogues, ruthie being a bitch, dead baby turtles, arguing, reader fights ruthie

The sun was blazing, casting a golden glow across kildare as you and Rafe drove down to the beach. You were sat in the passenger seat of his truck, legs crossed and placed on the dashboard, your floral sundress riding up your thighs as you hummed along to a song playing on the radio, cherry-red nails tapping against your phone as you scrolled mindlessly.

Rafe glanced over at you, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he took in your effortless beauty and the way your dress hugged your figure in all the right places, your plush thighs on full display for him. Of course you noticed and smirked, flipping your sunglasses down to look at him. “Careful, rafey,” you teased, voice filled with your usual sweetness. He returned the smirk, a quiet intensity in his voice, “Not my fault you’re distracting.”

“Eyes. On. The. Road.” You pointed dramatically forward, shaking your head. This man was unbelievable. His chuckle was low and warm, but the tension in his hands remained as he tore his gaze back to the road.

Soon you arrived at the beach, where your friends were already setting everything up. Topper and Kelce were unloading surfboards like they were training for the Olympics, and Ruthie, who was perched on Topper’s Jeep like she owned the damn thing, barked random instructions about where the cooler should go, while your best friend Sofia, was sprawled on a towel nearby, sipping Pepsi and pretending to be entertained by the mess.

“You’re late,” Sofia called out with a grin as you stepped out of the truck. “Blame this guy. Couldn’t keep his hands to himself,” you replied, grabbing the beach bag from the backseat and motioning to rafe who was unloading the trunk. “Ew y/n. Stop giving me nightmares.”Sofia cried out, weird images of you and rafe playing in her head, which made you giggle as you walked back to her layed out towel, placing yours next to it and falling onto the pink cloth.

Soon enough you turned your attention back to your boyfriend who was still rummaging through his car. “Rafe,” you called over, standing up and spinning to face him. “I need suncreen!” He glanced up, mid-struggle with a folding chair. “Yeah, just a sec—”

“Pleeeease.” you whined, pouting at him which made rafe sigh in defeat, of course he’d drop everything just to keep you happy, that’s just how much you got him wrapped around your finger.

As Rafe walked over you reached back and untied your dress in one smooth motion, letting it fall to the sand and revealing your new bright pink bikini that practically glowed against your tan skin in a way you knew would leave him speechless.

Rafe froze for a moment, his breath hitching as he took you in. Your body was glowing, and Rafe felt not only his chest tighten, the bulge in his pants growing. “Goddamn, doll,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop himself, still stuck in frame. You looked over your shoulder, smirking. “You gonna help me or just stare all day? I’m sure Kelce would gladly help me out instead.”

That got him moving. He grabbed the sunscreen, squeezing some into his hands before running them over your back, his touch lingering just a little too long, making your skin tingle. his hands were warm and careful, savoring every second as an excuse to touch you and just then his hand slipped past your waist, stopping right on your round ass.

"Done?" you teased, glancing over your shoulder with a playful smile. "Barely," he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes dropped, tracing your curves for a moment longer. Things felt light—until Toppers voice cut through the peace, calling out to Sarah who was just getting out of the water, surfboard under her arm.

“Hey Sarah, I like the longboard. You know, classic.”

You turned your head just in time to catch Sarah's blank expression as she stepped out of the water, surfboard under her arm. "Thanks," she replied flatly, her tone making it clear she couldn't care less. She didn't even glance his way before walking toward the Pogues.

“Does he ever stop? Like he is still so obviously obsessed with your sister.” You turned to Rafe, propped on your elbows as you watched. Rafe just shrugged, he definitely couldn’t care less. "I don't know why he bothers," he muttered. "It's like a cat and mouse game he doesn't know he's losing." His tone was dismissive, but there was an edge to it, a hint of his own complicated feelings about Sarah and her new alliances.

Turning back to you, his expression softened, the faint trace of irritation melting into something sweeter. "Can you grab me a beer, baby?" he asked, his voice low, the pet name rolling off his tongue effortlessly. His eyes lingered on your face, taking in every detail-the soft curve of your lips, the way your hair framed your features.

You were quick to open the cooler, reaching for one of the bottles and handing it to him, a soft “thanks” falling from his lips as he stole a gentle kiss from you, It was brief but sweet, leaving you giggling softly. He was so down bad for you.

Nearby, Topper and Kelce were heading into the water with their boards, ready to take on JJ, who was already out catching waves. Ruthie cheered loudly from the shore, oblivious to the annoyed glances she was getting from everyone around her.

Everything was going smoothly as Topper got ready to take on a big wave, propping himself onto his board, when suddenly JJ budged in from the side, stealing Toppers wave. “Hey! Blatant poach, man!” Rafe yelled as you all watched JJ ride, the annoyed expression on Toppers face not going unnoticed.

“What the hell was that?” Ruthie complained, hands thrown together over her head. You and Sofia couldn’t help but chuckle, Toppers defeated pout just being too funny, while Rafe didn’t hold back and flipped JJ off. As long as these stupid kook versus pogue fights stayed innocent you had no problem with that, unlike others..

While Topper and Kelce were back on the sand and getting dressed you noticed the pogues gathering around something on the ground, yet you didn’t pay much attention to it as the two boys were still complaining about being defeated by JJ.

Suddenly you heard a loud engine revving behind you, turning on your belly just to see ruhtie sitting behind the wheel of Toppers truck, smirking devilishly. “Instead of whining about it, let’s drift.”

“Give them a taste of their own medicine.” She added, pointing into the other direction. Topper immediately shook his head as he approached his girlfriend, “No, no. We’re not doing that.”

“Are you afraid?”

“I told them we’re gonna be cool.” He replied, definitely unsure of what to do. At this point Ruhtie was getting annoying, her constant fake smiles and obnoxious comments were bringing out the worst in you. “Hate to say it. You’re enabling Topper. That’s why they have a problem with you in the first place. They know they can just run all over you.” Topper stiffened, glared at his girlfriend. “Oh, they can run all over me, Ruthie?”

“Well, I’m about to buzz down there and show them whos beach this is. You gonna make me go by myself?” She replied mockingly. And when Topper didn’t reply she crossed a line, desperate to get to him.

“Or maybe one of these guys wants to go with me instead.” Immediately all the boys began to whistle, the other kooks gossiping in silence as you heard them mumbling next to you.

“What the—oh wow, she’s such a whore.” you whispered to Sofia, which made her hold back a laugh. Of course you loved to tease Rafe as well, usung other guys to make him jealous, and for you it was just all fun and games, but by the look on Ruthie’s face you could tell she was serious and that was a big ‘no no’. As much as you disliked Topper sometimes, he didn’t deserve that.

“All right, screw it.” Topper caved, getting into the passenger seat, a satisfied smirk on Ruthies face to which you just gagged. Everyone watched them take off, speeding down the beach at an insane tempo. You stood up, shielding your eyes from the sun as you watched the truck barell towards the pogues, not slowing down.

“Are they fucking crazy?” You yelled towards the other people, everyone just staring. “It’s all good, baby. Calm down. She’s not gonna do it.” Rafe mumbled as he reached your side, his hand finding its way to your lower back, but you pulled away.

“Good? No, Rafe it’s not. She’s about to run them the fuck over.”

Ruthie swerved dangerously close to the pogues, making them throw themselves to the sides to not get hit. It was actually insane. And as she turned the car to go for another round you could feel the anger inside you built, balling your hands into fists as you couldn’t believe how someone could be so recklessly playing with people’s life’s.

Once Topper and Ruthie got back to the group everyone was cheering, dabbing them up like they were some kind of heroes who just saved the poor villagers from a terrorizing army. Just then ruhtie came face to face with you, expecting you to hype her up as well, but you definitely didn’t want to play this game.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You shouted at her, face red from bubbling with frustration. “What? It was just—“ she tried to defend herself as she suddenly got cut off by Kiara who was approaching with heavy steps.

“Look what you did!” She stood there, teary eyed as she held a dead baby turtle right into Ruthie’s face. “Is this okay?” Ruhtie looked away, the way her face turned into embarrassment was almost too good to be true, yet you could be victorious about it.

“No, look at it! There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it.” You looked up behind ruhtie, the lifeless body of the baby turtle making you sick to your stomach, clinging to your own body.

“I understand you’re upset, Kiara.” Topper tried to cool down the situation, but in vain. Kie was full on pissed and you could understand, it was just so fucked up. “I’m more than upset, Topper.”

“All right, but it was only one. I mean, look, there’s so many more of them.” Ruhtie shrugged as if she just didn’t care and that got to you, your anger now impalpable.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, huh?”

you budged in, brows furrowed in distaste as you faced Ruhtie who was obviously taken aback by your sudden outburst, thinking you were on her side before your gaze was fixed on her instead of Kiara.

“Me? Chill, y/n, they’re just turtles..and some irrelevant pogues.” She chuckled, not taking you serious which made you only angrier. “Just—what?” You looked at her in disbelief, ruhtie tossing her hair like she hadn’t almost run over actual people. “You almost killed them you absolute psychopath!”

“It’s not that deep.” She snapped back, towering over you, but you didn’t back away, voice steady. “You’re so goddamn selfish, it’s actually embarrassing.” But what was even more embarrassing was that no one, like absolutely nobody was saying anything, not even Rafe which made you just as furious.

He was just standing there, as the argument between you and Ruthie unfolded. He’d watched you stand toe-to-toe with Ruthie, your voice sharp and unwavering as you confronted her reckless behavior. His brows lifted slightly as he took it in—your fire, your refusal to back down.

A slow, subtle grin tugged at the corners of his lips. That was his girl. You weren’t like anyone else in this crowd, and watching you put Ruthie in her place sent a wave of pride through him. You were fierce and unapologetic, not afraid to call out the bullshit no one else would.

But as the argument escalated, Rafe’s grin faded. He saw the way Ruthie’s expression shifted from cocky to defensive, her crossed arms turning rigid as she tried to push back against your words. She had no idea who she was dealing with. Ruhtie huffed, crossing her arms, “why don’t you just stay out of it?”

“No, I’m done staying out of it,” you hissed. Your anger getting the best of you. Then it happened. In a flash of movement, you shoved Ruthie back with everything you had. The impact sent her stumbling, her arms flailing as she tried to catch her balance. Rafe’s eyes widened as he saw your body shaking with anger. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, rushing into your direction.

Ruthie fell back, landing hard in the sand with a look of utter shock on her face. The crowd around you gasped, some exchanging wide-eyed glances while others stifled laughter at Ruthie’s humiliation. But Rafe wasn’t focused on any of them. His attention was entirely on you. Towering over her you growled, “It’s about time for someone to tell you what a reckless, spoiled little brat you—”

“Alright, enough,” Rafe’s voice suddenly cut through the tension as he stepped in, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back, knowing that if he didn’t you’d probably lunge at her any second and it wouldn’t end pretty.

“Rafe, let me go,” you snapped, your tone fiery, your body still rigid with anger as you tried to push past him. “Not a chance,” he replied, his grip steady as he kept you firmly in place. His eyes darted between you and Ruthie, who was still on the ground, glaring up at you like she couldn’t believe what just happened.

“Rafe, she needs to hear this—”

“I know,” he cut you off, his voice softer now as he leaned in, his lips close to your ear. “I know, baby. Trust me, she deserved it. But you’ve made your point.” You struggled against him for a moment longer, the adrenaline still coursing through you. But as you glanced back at him, the calm yet determined look in his eyes softened something inside you.

“Come on,” he murmured, his hands sliding down your arms, grounding you. “Let’s not give her the satisfaction of dragging this out.” You huffed, shooting one last death glare at Ruthie before letting Rafe drag you away, now watching from a safe distance. Sofia quickly wrapped an arm around you, whispering, “God, she’s the worst.”

“It’s just the cycle of life, ain’t it right?” Ruhtie then turned to her friends, receiving hesitant nods in approval, yet they were there.“Cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not the cycle of life!” Kie suddenly slapped Ruhtie in the face, she was really getting it today. As much as you wanted to see Kie kick Ruthie’s ass, it was better for everyone that JJ held her back. “There’s something seriously wrong with you people.”

As kie stomped back to her friends JJ turned around one last time, the words burning on the tip of his tongue. “If you come near her, or any of us ever again, I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” and with that, he left.

“Topper they threatened us. We should press charges. I mean your grandfather, hes a judge, right?” Ruthie played scared, holding onto her boyfriend. “She seriously has to get over herself. The world doesn’t revolve around her.” You grumbled in frustration, biting down on your lower lip which was already sore.

“I know baby, but now is not the time for that, okay?” Rafe held you close, rubbing his palms over your tense shoulders to release the tension, yet you refused to lean into him as you were still pissed, stomping away. Rafe couldn’t help but glance down at you, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and adoration. “That was kind of badass, though,” he said quietly, a smirk creeping back onto his face.

You shot him a look, but the corner of your mouth twitched, betraying the faintest hint of a smile. Yet you didn’t feel like you wanted to stay around Ruthie and her friends, pulling on Rafe’s arm.“I wanna go home. Please get your stuff.” You pouted, walking off and back to the tent where Rafe had parked his car.

You definitely weren’t done with Ruhtie..

LINKS .ᐟ more from doll!reader

TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @glitterybombshell @beausling @starkeysprincess @drewspinkbunny @whinyangel @rafescokewhore @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesfawn @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @nativegirltapes @maybanksbaby @httpsdrewstarkey @dolcekissy @sematarygirls @cameronsprincess @cherrygirlfriend @cosmicanakin

#works ₊˚⊹♡#doll!reader x rafe cameron 𝜗𝜚 #doll!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe x you #rafe x doll!reader #rafe obx #outer banks

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ellastone-olsen · 28 days ago

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Mommy Wanda x autistic!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, fluffy fluff, mentions of anxiety, mommy kink, nipple play, teasing, pet names

AN: this is a purely self indulgent, no one but me asked for this.

꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ sfw

• She’s respects your sensory issues and doesn't touch you if you ask not to. when you feel that everything around you is irritating noisy/bright/unpleasant and you are ready to explode at any moment, she understands everything and just stay nearby.

• of course she wouldn't mind watching a movie you've seen at least 20 times again. she’s just love to see your pleasant face and the way you quote everything that happens on the screen (she'll learn that soon too)

• Wanda never forces you to go to loud crowded places like bars and clubs knowing that you will recover from this for at least a week. When you plan a joint vacation, she is happy to spend time in a comfortable environment for you. (you are always grateful to her to tears that she remembers this)

• she is always ready to greet you with soft comforts and if you ask, for hugs after another sensory overload. If it happens when you are not at home she sends you messages to support you and let you know that you’re not alone.

• your headphones. while everyone thinks it's disrespectful to wear them all the time when you're out of home, she understand you’re need. she knows that you can hear her better with it. when Wanda noticed that your old ones were worn out, she surprised you and bought the ones you had wanted for a long time.

꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ nsfw

• sometimes your sensitivity is not a bad thing, especially when she suck your tits, takes your nipples into her mouth, caresses them with tongue. it makes you squirm and whine, she knows what she’s doing. “my bunny loves when mommy taking care of you like that right?”

• a lot of foreplay to make you feel comfortable and wet. she won't fuck you until she's sure you're dripping. “Hush baby, you’re not ready yet.” and then Wanda will kiss and bite your inner thighs and make you squirm.

• she always asks how you feel before you have sex. sometimes she treats you as if you are made of crystal and would fall apart from one careless touch. when you sit on her lap and slightly grinding Wanda holds you and whispers onto ear “isn't that too much for one day? aren't you tired bunny?”

#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel #wanda x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #mommy wanda #wandanat #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wandavision

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queensunshinee · 2 months ago

Text

Wreck my plans || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, fingering), drinking, family drama, very slow burn, maybe too slow, I really don't know what's going on here

Word Count: 8.5k

Wreck my plans

Parties were never your thing. Parties are Jenny's thing. But she went away for the weekend with two friends from Harvard and didn’t even think to invite you. So Jenny can go to hell. And you can go to the party.

Luke Thompson's house is huge, and it doesn’t surprise you since you've spent two evenings a week here over the past few months trying to teach him algebra and literature. He had to repeat senior year after his complete failure last year. The party was in celebration of him finally getting his diploma and being accepted to a local college nearby.

"Little (Y/L/N)!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide, inviting you for a hug. "The only reason I managed to finish school," he added, yelling, making you roll your eyes. "You’re the only reason you managed to finish school, Luke," you said, taking a step back. "To be honest, I didn’t think you’d come," he looked around, causing you to do the same and start recognizing familiar faces from your grade and the one above you (Jenny’s). "I've never seen you at a party before." "I've been to parties. we just don’t hang out with the same people," you said as the two of you moved towards the kitchen so you could grab a drink.

The conversation continued for a few more minutes, but your attention drifted to the blond guy in the kitchen- Art Donaldson. Dressed in a pink button-down shirt and jeans, holding a red cup just like the one Luke put in your hand, drinking the same warm beer you're drinking. You hadn’t thought about him for almost a year. Your gaze wandered from him to the living room, where you saw Dave flirting with someone you couldn’t identify, and you found yourself rolling your eyes at the scene. You tried to listen to Luke for a few more moments because it felt like the polite thing to do, but you lost interest, and, like a magnet, your eyes were drawn back to Art Donaldson, who was busy looking you over from head to toe. You wonder if it made you blush or if it's just the cheap alcohol. You left the kitchen with a certain sense of saturation, looking for people you actually enjoyed being around more than Luke, who, as nice as he was, was too sociable for your taste. Tried too hard. You also try hard, mostly to stay out of everyone’s way.

You ended the evening with Chloe and Ron- ironically, friends of Jenny's, since Lia refused to come. They asked about Jenny and told you about their college experiences. Ron finished his first year at Yale, and Chloe went to a local college not far from here. Maybe it’s time to go home, as you feel like you’re suffocating and the place is closing in on you. The thought of staying close, like Chloe, to this suburb made your stomach turn. Chloe loved it, though. She didn’t see anything wrong with it. She planned her life right here. Just like this.

"Can I sit?" A familiar voice stood above you as you stared at Luke’s pool. A few people were in the far corner of it, but otherwise, the yard was empty. You shrugged without saying anything as Art sat down. He took off his shoes and folded up his jeans a bit, dipping his feet into the pool- something you hadn’t even thought to do. You looked at him for a moment as he took another sip from the drink in his hand. He’s probably the most handsome guy you know- a childish thought that’s crossed your mind since you were young, since you remember him. Blond with eyes that could make stars feel embarrassed with how they shine. There’s nothing ordinary about him. He’s exceptional. You don’t think there’s any girl your age who’s known him and hasn’t had a crush on him, at least for a moment.

"Congratulations on finishing school. I heard you’re the reason Luke can celebrate," he said casually, looking at you and causing you to turn your gaze back to the pool in a split second. "He really needs to stop telling people that," you replied, hearing him chuckle. "How was your first year in college? Stanford, right?" you asked, trying to shift the focus from yourself to him. "Yeah, tennis, you know. It’s nice. I’m supposed to choose a major next semester. My mom wants me to pick business management. I’m considering sports management," he said offhandedly, as if it weren’t too personal. As if this wasn’t the longest conversation you’d had since kindergarten. "Then you have to choose sports, of course," you said quickly. "Sorry, it’s none of my business," you added just as fast, realizing you’d stepped into his complicated relationship with his mom. "If only it were that easy, huh?" he chuckled. "To choose what I want," he added.

At that moment, Art Donaldson had no idea that what he was saying touched the deepest parts of your heart, nearly crushing it. Stroking an open wound without knowing the area was sensitive. Jenny decided at the last moment that she didn’t want to study at Yale and preferred Harvard, which meant financially you couldn’t study out of state. It would just be too much. And it surprised no one that you were the one who had to give up your dream. It surprised no one, because Jenny was the first to decide, and you received the scraps of something that might have been hers. Like wearing an old shirt, she no longer wanted. It’s never the other way around.

"Aren’t you planning to go pro?" you asked after a few seconds, trying to shake off the emotions flooding you. "I’m not sure yet, my mom really wants me to finish my degree," he explained, taking another sip. "Patrick’s really suffering on his tour. don’t tell him I told you that." He added information you hadn’t asked for. As if you were in daily contact with Patrick Zweig. As if you’d ever exchanged a word with him. You only know Jenny slept with him a few times, but it’s not something you two talk about, so whatever. "I’m going to Wesleyan," you said suddenly and looked at him; his gaze was already on you. "Damn," he smiled a half-smile, and maybe it was the first time you’d felt a certain pride since you applied there. "Jenny went to Harvard, so it’s complicated for both of us to study out of state, you know how it is," you felt the need to explain the situation, even though he hadn’t asked, and he certainly didn’t know how it is. "It’s a good school tho, I’m glad I got in," you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince, but he furrowed his brows as if he didn’t believe it, as if he had something to say about it. But he kept it to himself, and you appreciated that.

"I have to say, distancing myself from Jenny (Y/L/N) was one of the best things that’s happened to me since I left," everyone knew about Art and Jenny's relationship. They couldn’t stand each other. They competed in every possible subject. From student council to tennis. You don’t think Jenny even likes tennis. She just likes the first place. And without realizing it, you laughed, which a good sister shouldn’t do, but you felt it too. Distancing yourself from Jenny was a relief. The difference is that you’re not allowed to say that out loud, and Art Donaldson doesn’t really care. He doesn’t need to be at family dinners during holidays.

You looked at him for another second and thought this could be a good moment to kiss him. It was as if he hadn’t taken his eyes off you for a second since he sat down. You could lean in a little and press your lips to his. It’s not like you’d see him much again. You wouldn’t see him at all and in six weeks, you will move into the dorms in college. and in few years, maybe after school, he’d probably be a professional tennis player or a lawyer or the president. You think you can picture him as the president. You'd vote for him. "Well, it was nice seeing you, (Y/N)," he smiled another one of his captivating smiles. "Talk to me if you ever find yourself in California," he gave a small nod, grabbed his shoes, and walked away. Maybe one day you’ll manage to actually do something you really want to do. . . . You regretted what you did about three minutes after you politely turned down the full scholarship to Wesleyan. and accepted what they offered you at Stanford. But in your defense, it was late at night, you’d just come back from Luke’s party very tipsy, and you had no real intention of talking to Art when you got to California. You’d never seen your parents so angry. Your mom cried. Your dad said you were inconsiderate. Jenny sat on the couch, watching you with a raised eyebrow. They said they wouldn’t pay for anything, that if you made this decision, you’d have to deal with the consequences. The scholarship covered your tuition, but for housing and books, you’d have to use your savings. Two jobs you picked up over the summer and a part-time job you’d had for three years of babysitting. They didn’t speak to you for weeks. From the moment you told them, all communication between you went through Jenny.

"Tell her dinner’s ready," "Tell her to go down and buy eggs," "Tell her Uncle Barry’s coming over tonight, to act like she still cares about this family."

"They'll come around," Jenny mumbled when she climbed into your bed one of those warm August nights. "I don’t know," you answered with your eyes closed, exhausted from the day at work and the hostility you returned to at home. "I know," she concluded. In the morning, you woke up alone.

You think they’ll never forgive you. Maybe you’ll never forgive them. But you don’t know. . . . The empty bed in your dorm was beneath the window. You didn’t complain for a moment because everything could have been much worse. Jenny bought you the flight ticket to California for your birthday. You cried. You remembered that small moment when Art said he was glad to be away from her and you giggled, not defending your sister. She’s not to blame for being born first. She’s not to blame for needing more attention. Her intentions are good. That should be the only thing that matters.

You only met Billie in the evening when she came back from what she described as a date. She spoke about 50 words a minute, so it was hard to follow. She asked why you came a week late, you wanted to say that you were on time and she came early, but all you managed to get out was "work." It wasn’t a lie. You worked at a camp and an ice cream parlor all summer, trying to save as much as you could because you didn’t know how long it would take to find a job near the university. Turns out, very quickly. The diner across from the university was looking for waiters, and you showed up without experience but with a convincing smile and some recommendations from previous employers, as if anyone cared that you were great with kids. Three shifts a week, and the savings would help you keep your head above water. That’s all you need.

A week after you arrived at the dorms, Billie and Summer, your roommates, forced you to go with them to a party. And it wasn’t too hard to convince you because you weren’t at home. And sometimes, you need to remind yourself that you at home isn’t the same you who’s at Stanford. Here, no one knows you or Jenny. No one expects anything from you, no one will call you "Little (Y/L/N)." Here, you are whoever you choose to be. And that’s enough. Enough to wear almost burgundy lipstick and a tight dress, but still sneakers. After all, something of you stays the same.

Someone named Dean hit on you most of the night, and Billie told him you had a boyfriend. "Babe, anyone but Dean. I’ve been here two weeks, and he’s slept with the entire building already," she whispered in your ear, and you laughed. Someone else hit on you during the night, but you didn’t remember his name. When you lay in bed, you tried calling Jenny to tell her about your night, but she didn’t answer. And maybe that’s okay. . . . The first time you saw Art at Stanford, he was the one who actually saw you. "(Y/n)?" He lifted his sunglasses to his hair. He wore a Stanford T-shirt and pants that made you wonder if they were also Stanford coded. He had a racket bag over his shoulder. He looked confused. "Hey," you didn’t know what to say as you leaned against the only free tree you could find and tried to read one of the books from your syllabus, preparing for your first class. "Hey?" He almost chuckled as he sat down next to you, not taking his eyes off you. Like you’d disappear the second he blinked. He didn’t seem disappointed by your presence. "Shit, I was joking about California," he looked amused, still studying you. He took the book you were reading, like it was his, ran a hand over the cover. Like he knew everything he needed to know about the course just by looking at it. "Stanford was on my list, and it just felt more right," you tried to justify, to explain that it wasn’t because of him. He didn’t think it was because of him tho, not really. "How did they take it?" he asked, probably remembering details from your conversation at the party. "I don’t know, because they’re not talking to me," you said it in the same casual tone, like it didn’t bother you. "Damn," he muttered, "that bad?" he asked. "It’s whatever," you shrugged. "I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll see you around, yeah?" He stood up and walked away. You didn’t know if you’d actually see him around again, but the interaction had been nice. You think that maybe Art Donaldson won’t judge you. And that’s an interesting thought. . . . The next time you see him, you're in the middle of a shift, wearing a ridiculous apron and a ponytail that makes your hair look greasy. Needless to say, you’re embarrassed, but he doesn’t act like it’s a big deal. He says hello, which is surprising because he’s with friends, and you look, well…ridiculous. You say hello back, because you’re polite, and it’s the right thing to do. They sit down at one of the tables, and you hear his voice from a distance saying, “I know her from back home.” You think it’s a half-accurate description, because you don’t really know each other- not like he knows Patrick Zweig or Luke. Not like he knows Jenny. You also think the girl sitting next to him is very pretty. Pretty enough to hate her, but nice enough not to.

Casually, before they leave the diner, Art asks if you're going to a party someone in his dorm is throwing. You shrug in response because you hadn’t heard about it until now. “It’ll be fun, you should come,” he calls out, mentioning the building he lives in before he leaves with his friends. He didn’t have to invite you. He doesn’t have to invite you to places. You’re not his responsibility. You don’t want him to think you are. You don’t know if you’ll go. . . . When you received the email from the registrar notifying you that your account had already been paid and that there was no need for the duplicate payment you’d tried to make, you found yourself confused. When you realized your parents had paid the bill despite saying they wouldn’t, you ended up crying for two hours. It’s not fair. It’s not fair. They haven’t spoken to you in almost three months. They let you stew in guilt but are willing to pay your bills? It’s ridiculous. None of them answered when you tried to call to say thank you. You cried for another hour. 'Busy. Do you need anything?' -Jenny-

You think you need a hug. But that feels childish, so you send her an orange heart emoji. . . . You go to the party Art invited you to with Billie and Summer because, why not? You don’t mention that you got an invitation, just casually say you heard there’s a party and that it might be fun to check it out.

You decide to put on the dark lipstick again, you liked how it looked last time, and honestly, the feedback was great. This time, you stick with a thin shirt, ripped tights, and shorts- keeping it low-effort was part of the actual effort. You think it’s silly. But you look cute, so fuck it.

Art spots you before you notice him again. He comes up to you in the middle of a conversation, gently swiping the beer bottle from your hand, making you look at him as he takes a sip and hands it back. “You’re the hot guy from the posters,” Billie says shamelessly, looking straight at him. “Art,” he chuckles, introducing himself, making you roll your eyes. “Mind if I steal her for a bit?” He asks permission, which is ridiculous and funny, making you feel embarrassed as he hands you back the beer and leads you to another corner of the apartment by your other hand.

“Hey,” he says, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Hey,” you reply with staged nonchalance. “You look good,” you add, because it’s true. The few times you’d seen him on campus, he was in Stanford sports gear. Seeing him again in a button-down and jeans felt like a privilege. “That’s what I’ve heard,” he responds, referencing Billie’s comment from a few minutes ago, taking the beer from you again. Maybe it’s over the top, sharing the same bottle. It’s relatively intimate for two people who don’t actually know each other.

One of his friends comes over and starts talking to Art about tennis, his gaze lingering on you. You wonder if Art realizes he’s standing closer to you in a slightly possessive way. That his hand is lightly brushing yours, that he keeps taking the bottle from you to drink from it, openly displaying that sense of intimacy.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You’re not sure where the courage to ask came from. Maybe it’s the tequila shots you took with Billie and Summer before heading out to the party. Maybe it’s the joint you passed between each other. But Art looks amused as he nods. You catch Summer out of the corner of your eye, giving you a thumbs-up and making exaggerated kissy faces. If Art saw her doing it, he didn’t say anything. The contrast between the noise in the building and the quiet outside surprises you. The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but you hoped he’d say something by now. He seemed to be enjoying himself too much to talk. “Want to head to the lake?” he suddenly asked, though you were already walking that way. You hadn’t actually been there yet, but you didn’t want to reveal that you didn’t know the area that well.

“Hey, give me your phone,” you said, stopping in your tracks. He stopped too, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “So bossy,” he muttered with his signature smirk, but you entered your number and sent yourself a flower emoji so you could save his number later. When you reached the lake, it almost took your breath away. It looked like something out of a movie. You know it sounds like a cliché, but it really was like that- like an old movie, but not too old. The moon reflected off the lake, and a few people were sitting on the grass nearby. You sat on a table instead of the bench next to it. Art raised an eyebrow at the choice but shook his head like you’d done something funny.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, looking at you as if confessing a secret. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” You knew that’s not what he wanted to hear, but he laughed anyway. He sat on the bench below you, between your legs. You felt as if you had some kind of power. Your hand automatically moved through his curls. You thought about apologizing but decided not to. “How are you?” he asked. “I’m okay, I think. How are you?” you tossed the question back at him. “Seriously, how are you?” His fingers brushed over yours, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “With your parents and everything?” he added. “I’m fine,” you replied. You didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t push as much as you expected. His hand squeezed yours for a moment, as if he had more to say. Instead, he nodded and stood up, starting to walk with you just behind him.

You're walking alongside the lake, wondering if this path has an end, or if you even want it to. You think you might feel those butterflies in your stomach. "Do you know my first memory of you?" he asks suddenly, and you’re surprised. Part of you doesn’t want to know. It’s probably related to Jenny. Art has so many memories of Jenny, and they’re all negative. Deep down, you hope he doesn't remember you as this girl being attached at her hip. "The day after my dad's funeral, you gave me a daisy you picked from someone’s garden." He chuckles, but it sounds bitter. You don’t remember this. You do remember, though, that for years, until you both drifted and each found your own group of friends—he called you "Daisy." You never knew why. "Oh." You don’t know what to say, so that’s what comes out a bit pathetic. "I didn’t even know it was a daisy, if the story details matter," you try to lighten things up. "I asked my grandmother," he says, and the two of you chuckle. "That’s why you called me Daisy for three years straight?" you ask. "God. Why do you remember that?" He puts a hand over his face, as if he’s embarrassed or something. "I thought maybe you didn’t know my name, and since I was Jenny’s sister, you just rolled with it." You laugh. "It suited you, Daisy," he says, and his hand moves your hair behind your ear. This isn’t the first time he’s done that, but this time he also looks at your lips. You feel like he’s looking at your soul if that's even possible.

"I really wanted to kiss you at Luke's party," you admit, because it feels like the right moment. "Oh yeah? So why didn’t you kiss me?" he asks, wetting his lower lip with his tongue. "I’ve wanted to do it since eighth grade, and then I had the chance and didn't know what to do" You look at him. His smile is still plastered across his face, and you wish he wasn’t so smug all the time. "Maybe I wanted you to kiss me at Luke's party," he says, almost ignoring what you just said. "Little Daisy, sitting by the pool alone. Maybe I approached you with intent? Maybe I was goi-" You don’t give him the satisfaction of finishing his sentence, as you crash your lips onto his like you’re possessed. His smile lingers for a few moments. His hands pull you closer to him as he presses you back against a light pole you didn’t know was behind you.

Art Donaldson is a good kisser. No one can take that from him. He’s an amazing kisser. His tongue is way too skilled. His hands have found their way under your shirt as if that’s their natural place. His lips move perfectly in sync with yours, and when you both pause to catch your breath, he presses his forehead against yours. He places small kisses on your cheek, then on your neck, and only when you lean your head back and bump into the pole do you remember that you’re in a public space. People could see you. This is not your style. "Okay, we’re good," you tap his chest lightly, making him laugh the most delightful laugh you’ve ever heard. "Is this everything you dreamed of before starting high school?" he asks, planting another small kiss on your cheek, as if he just can’t help himself or something. "I didn’t dream about kisses like this, Donaldson." You roll your eyes, thinking it’s pretty ridiculous that you’re smiling right now.

When you reach your dorm, you wonder if you should invite him in. You think he’d say yes. But you also think there’s something beautiful about leaving the night as it is- two people who used to know each other, kissing by a lake. He gives you a small kiss and takes out his phone as he turns to leave, while you head inside, unable to resist leaning against the door.

'Since eighth grade, huh?' -Unknown Number-

'Shut up.' -(Y/N)-

He replies with a flower emoji. You think the intention is daisy. Maybe you’re overthinking it. . . . You don’t expect Art to text you the next morning. You had that night together; it was great, and maybe it was exactly what you needed to get him out of your system. Maybe it was what you needed to finally move on from that endless crush on Art Donaldson. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed when he didn’t reach out at all, as if he’d disappeared from the face of the earth. But that’s probably fine. He doesn’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe him. You each have your own lives at Stanford. You’re trying to juggle work and studies. You’re supposed to submit a thirty-page paper after Thanksgiving, and you’ve only written three. Clearly, you have enough to keep you busy.

Your mom called a few days ago, and you cried. Because you hadn’t really talked in almost four months. She said Jenny convinced her. It’s kind of messed up, but you don’t say that. You’re just glad someone convinced her. You’ve been thinking a lot lately about how strange it is- how you never behaved outside of what was expected of you, and the one time you did, they reacted as if you’d committed a crime. You think about it even when you’re trying not to think about it. Your mom asked if you’re coming home for Thanksgiving. You said no. You wonder if it made her sad only after you hung up. . . . The next time you see Art, he’s flirting with a redhead at a Thanksgiving party Summer convinced you to attend. Honestly, you could’ve skipped this party, but Summer said she wanted the girl who invited her there. So you bit your tongue and told her you’d meet her there, because that’s what friends do.

It’s easy to tell when Art is flirting; it’s basically exaggerated hand gestures and a level of closeness he’s never tried with you. You’ve seen him in action before. You try not to stare, because it doesn’t really matter. Instead, you look for Summer, who’s on the opposite side of the room, directly in Art’s line of sight. It makes you smile, knowing he’ll see that you’re here. You’ve decided you’re going to ignore him. You made that decision when you passed by him on your way to Summer, feeling his eyes on you but not meeting his gaze.

When Summer slips away to sit with Caitlin -the girl she’s interested in- a guy you don’t recognize approaches you. He introduces himself and offers you a drink. You politely decline, you’re smarter than to accept punch from a complete stranger. He’s nice, but standing a little too close for your comfort. He leans over you, and you feel a bit trapped between him and the wall you’re leaning against. You could walk away, of course, but the whole situation feels uncomfortable. You wonder where Summer is, unable to see her in the crowd.

"Don’t you think you’re a bit too close?" Art’s voice is firm and unyielding as he positions himself next to you, raising an eyebrow at the guy. "Sorry, man, thought she was single," he says, disappearing like he was never there. Neither of you bother to correct him about the two of you not actually being together. You roll your eyes at Art and head toward the kitchen, feeling his steps following behind. You spot Summer with Caitlin on one of the couches, and she gives you a nod, signaling that she’s fine and that you’re free to leave if you want. "Hey, you didn’t go home," he says behind you, as if everything is normal. "Quite the observation, Donaldson," you say, knowing you’re being mean. But, fuck it, he deserves it. You grab a beer from the kitchen and head outside, with him trailing beside you. "You’re mad at me because I didn’t text you," he sighs, prompting you to stop and raise an eyebrow at him. "You really think you’re something special, huh?" Maybe a bit too harsh, but it’s all you’ve got right now. "I don’t think I’m anything special. I just didn’t know what to say." He sighs again as you start walking away from the building. "It was a good night. I didn’t want to ruin it, you know?" You think he sounds almost shy. His voice is softer than usual, and you remind yourself that you also labeled that night as a good one, as a nice experience you didn’t want to spoil. So maybe it’s unfair to be angry- after all, you could have reached out to him, too. But what would you have even said? The three weeks since then passed quickly, and most of the time, you didn’t think about him at all. So it’s fine. Everything’s really fine.

"It’s ok, Donaldson, I wasn’t sitting by the phone waiting for a message from you. You can let it go," you sum up, trying to sound amused and light-hearted, though it comes out a bit too bitter for your liking. "So why didn’t you go home?" he asks, changing the subject. "I’m working." You shrug. He raises an eyebrow, like someone who knows that’s not the whole truth but also understands he’s treading on thin ice right now and shouldn’t push for more. "Why didn’t you go?" you throw the question back at him, trying to show him that it’s all good. "I’ve got a match tomorrow, plus my mom doesn’t really care," he replies, and you nod, understanding a bit of what he means. You knew his mom- she always struck you as the coldest person in the world. "What are you doing at a party if you have a match tomorrow?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, wondering if it’s too harsh, because you’re trying to steer the conversation onto calmer ground. "It’s in the afternoon," he shrugs. "You don’t have to walk with me, my dorms are really close," you say after a few moments of silence. "We’re good? We're friends and you’re not mad at me anymore, right, Daisy?" he asks, nudging his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes at the silly nickname, but you don’t find it in yourself to correct him.

"We’re good," you conclude, walking into your building, leaving him behind. . . . The next day, you decide to go to his game after your shift, only to find out that Patrick fucking Zweig is also sitting in the small crowd. Most of the students eager to see Stanford’s star in action probably love their families more and decided to go home. You sat far from Patrick, but it didn’t stop him from giving you a puzzled look as he whispered something to the girl sitting next to him, who was fully focused on Art's game. You remembered her from the diner the other day. She’s beautiful.

Art won to the applause of the crowd that stayed to watch until the end. Two hours of the ball going back and forth and sounds that were almost erotic. Whatever. You consider heading back to your dorm without saying anything just to avoid talking to Patrick. But Art smiles at you and gives a small wave, so you know there's no way to get out of at least saying hello. You need to suck it up. “Congratulations, Donaldson,” you mumble, and he gives you the smuggest smile he can find. “Little (Y/L/N), long time,” Patrick says to you with half-loudness. He doesn’t say anything bad, but you shrink a little. Trying to remember the last time someone called you that. Probably at Luke's party. Art looks at you with an apologetic look as if he knows. He probably doesn’t know. But that's okay. “How’s the tour?” you ask politely because it’s the right thing to do. “Good, good,” he says, shifting his gaze from you to Art and back to you. Like a man with a plan. “Want to have dinner with us?” he asks. In any other situation, you’d laugh, because the odds of you sitting at the same table with Patrick Zweig would be slim, especially considering his history with Jenny. “I wish, but I have a paper due in a few days, and I really have to work on it. Maybe next time,” you smile the most genuine smile you can find and quickly move away.

“Dude, you didn’t tell me Little (Y/L/N) was here,” you hear Patrick laugh. “Shut up, Patrick,” you’re almost sure you heard Art reply.

'You wish?' -Art Donaldson- He sent it half an hour later when you were already sitting at your computer with a cup of coffee in hand.

You turned off your phone. You need to focus. . . . Art came to your work far more often than you expected. He probably tried every dish on the menu, including the pancakes with the “secret” sauce that you suspect is just chocolate mixed with overly sticky jam. He sometimes studied there or came with his friends. He talked to you but not too much, and you texted each other from time to time. Were you friends? It felt strange to think that Art Donaldson and you were friends- not because he wasn’t someone you’d want to call a friend, but because you’d finally let go of the idea of him as someone out of reach.

One day, when he walked you home, he asked why you took on a fourth shift, since you usually didn’t work Mondays. “Are you keeping tabs on me, Donaldson?” you asked with a half-smile. “Daisy,” he sighed, as if you were being ridiculous, even though he was the one who knew your schedule and which days you didn’t usually work. “I’m saving up for a ticket home for the holidays, so,” you shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “You haven’t bought a ticket yet?” he asked, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “I’m buying it myself, so it’s taking me a minute.” Your parents had made it very clear they were only paying for your dorm. You bought your own books, and you had to cover your own flights. You didn’t look at him when you said it, afraid he might judge you- even if it was silly.

He stopped and looked at you. “That’s fucked up, (Y/N).” Whenever Art said your name like that recently, you knew he was serious, and that the conversation was drifting somewhere too deep. Like the time you talked about his grandmother, or his dad. “It is what it is,” you replied, continuing to walk, hoping he would keep walking too. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that they bought Jenny her train ticket. You didn’t want to dwell on the thought that even if it was cheaper, no one made her feel guilty for the only choice she’d ever made in her life. “I could get you a ticket,” he said, and this time, you stopped. “What the fuck?” you asked, your voice going up an octave. “I don’t need you to–” “For the miles. You can pay me back later,” he shrugged like it was no big deal. “I don’t need you to buy me a ticket. I don’t need your money, Art, let it go.” Your voice shook a little; you wondered if he heard it. “It’s not out of pity,” he said, voicing what you didn’t say. But you kept walking as if you hadn’t heard him.

“I wonder if we’ll find a spot in the library tomorrow,” you changed the subject to the first thing that popped into your head. Art didn’t say anything, but you knew it was the last thing he cared about at that moment. . . . A week before your flight, Billie cut your bangs. It’s not a cry for help, you told everyone who gave you a weird look. It’s cute. It’s fucking cute, ok? Art watched you from across the room at Patrick's party. You wondered if he'd say hello or if you'd both act like, at best, casual acquaintances- or, at worst, like you were just Jenny's little sister. You missed Lia and a few others who were fun to drink with and gossip with. You found out that Michelle was pregnant, which was a fucking scandal.

“Hey, stranger.” Art said when you walked into the kitchen. His eyes were redder than usual, and his smile was mischievous but tired. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, making Lia glance between the two of you. “Did you see she cut her bangs?” she asked, taking a sip from a drink you couldn’t quite identify. “It’s not a cry for help.” “It’s not a cry for help,” you both said together, but Art used a screechy voice, like he was imitating you, making Lia laugh. “She’s been yelling that at people all week,” he said to her, as if you weren’t standing right there. You considered grabbing a glass of wine and leaving them to talk alone. “Dave’s here,” Lia said suddenly, and you saw Art tense, his smile fading as if he sobered up instantly. If it weren’t for his telltale red eyes, there’d be no trace of it.

You and Dave had been together most of your last year in high school. He was the first guy you slept with, which was fine. It was just that everything felt a bit weirder whenever he was around since you broke up. It felt like you’d gone from friends to lovers to people scared of catching some incurable disease from each other if you'd even look at one another. “It’s totally fine,” you rolled your eyes, because, well, it really was fine. You hadn’t felt anything for Dave for almost a year. You regretted not knowing how he was doing or how he was handling college, but that’s life- you win some, you lose some.

“Little (Y/L/N),” Patrick Zweig’s voice grated in your ear. “Where’s (Y/L/N)?” he added quickly, probably drunker than usual, though you weren’t surprised. “Patrick,” Art muttered toward him, almost whining, like a man shocked by his best friend’s crudeness. “She’s at home, wasn’t feeling well.” You wondered if that was a convincing excuse for Jenny skipping Patrick’s party. But it was the excuse she left with you, and that’s what you’d stick to. “Well, at least we’ve got one family representative. What can you tell us about Art in California?” he asked, and you wondered why he was so desperate to put you in the spotlight. “Patrick, leave her alone,” Art’s tone was defensive, giving the guy next to him no option to dig any further. Patrick just flashed a mischievous grin and raised his hands in feigned surrender. “I like the bangs, you wear a mental breakdown well,” he chuckled and left the kitchen as chaotically as he’d entered, yelling something to Luke about beer pong. “Sorry, he’s an asshole,” Art said, sighing. You wondered when Lia had disappeared from your view. “He’s… Patrick,” you rolled your eyes. And it was true, you knew he didn’t act this way out of malice, he was just like that. “Want to get out of here?” Art asked. “Don’t you want to spend some time with your friends?” you returned the question. “I could use some air. Besides, who’s my friend here?” he shrugged. And as you both headed outside, you thought that was the saddest thing Art Donaldson had ever said to you.

"How does it feel to be home?" he asked. You want to say it’s ok, that it’s exactly what you dreamed, but it’s more like what you expected it would be. Your parents aren’t mad at you anymore, but they don’t approve of your decision either, and they remind you at every opportunity that they think you made a mistake. “It’s fine.” You shrugged. “I hate it when you say that,” he had this bitter laugh. “What?” You stopped for a moment and looked at him. “Every time you say something’s ‘fine,’ I know it’s not, and I have no idea how to get you to tell me.” He sighed, sitting down on a bench that hadn’t gotten wet from the rain that fell earlier in the afternoon.

“I’m not lying to you,” you tried to defend yourself, searching through your mind for other times you’d said something was ‘fine.’ You think he’s exaggerating. “I don’t think you’re lying. I think you don’t want to say things out loud,” he said. You think that if he weren’t a little drunk, he wouldn’t have brought up this conversation. “It’s weird, being home,” you said after a few seconds. He looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to say more. “I hate it when people call me ‘Little (Y/L/N).’ It feels like I don’t exist without Jenny,” you said, sharing something you hadn’t even told Lia. “I know,” Art said. “That’s why I get mad at Patrick when he calls you that.” He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. “How did you know?” you asked, surprised by the nonchalance with which he said it. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he asked with a half-smile, “I just know you, Daisy.” And if you didn’t know he was drunk and tired, you’d think there was sadness in his eyes. . . . A few days later, you saw Patrick at the grocery store, which was strange in itself because you were pretty sure Patrick Zweig had assistants to go grocery shopping for him. “Little (Y/L/N),” he said, and you’re fairly sure the smile on his face was genuine; he was actually glad to run into you. “Happy Christmas,” he said, stopping in front of you, holding a carton of orange juice and what looked like a frozen pizza. “I’m Jewish,” you rolled your eyes, only making him smile more. He knew that- he could deny it all he wanted, but Patrick knew Jenny very well, and you and Jenny shared genes. You both paid quietly for your items at the checkout, and as you stepped outside, he lit a cigarette, looking at you with an expression that seemed to expect you to stop and stand with him.

“I’m really glad you’re there with him at Stanford, you know?” he said after a few puffs of smoke. “Yeah? Why?” You tried to avoid smiling at him. You didn’t think he deserved a smile; he’s a jerk. “Because he’s better when you’re around,” he said softly, with a kind of depth you hadn’t seen in him before- something that made you think you understood what Jenny saw in him, how he managed to break her heart. “At tennis?” you asked. Because that’s all Patrick cared about- tennis, girls, and maybe Art. “At everything.” He shrugged, all the depth disappearing as he began to walk away. “Happy Hanukkah, Little (Y/L/N). Say hi to your sister for me.” You could see a wink. Patrick Zweig is defiantly an asshole. . . . You and Art went together to the New Year’s party at Stanford. Billie and Summer haven’t returned yet, and you’re almost certain Art moved his flight to catch the same one as yours, but you didn’t ask him about it because you think it would make you seem too smug. And you’re not. You really aren’t. You just think that if anything had changed from the last time he asked if you two were friends, he would have told you. But he hasn’t, so…whatever.

He sat on your bed today while you did your makeup, never taking his eyes off you through the mirror. Someone watching might think you’d hypnotized him. You don’t think you saw him blink once in the fifteen minutes he stared at you. “You like what you see?” you asked with a half-smile, still looking at his reflection. “What if I do?” he shrugged, as if this ridiculous flirtation was the truest thing he’d said in ages.

You decide not to linger too hard on his hand holding yours all the way to the party. Or on the fact that he kept you close to him while talking to people you didn’t know. On the effort he put into participating in a conversation with a friend you met in one of your courses. You try not to blush when he leans in and asks if you’re planning to kiss him at midnight. He's being bold. You think he’s acting like a brat. It should bother you. It doesn’t bother you.

You kiss him at midnight. Or maybe he kisses you. You’re not exactly sure, because you’re both so wrapped up in your own bubble, ignoring the drunken students around you. Your foreheads touch, and in an instant, your lips are on his, or his are on yours. It doesn’t matter. The result is the same. Beer and gum, and something else you can’t quite identify, maybe desperation. You like the mix. Maybe you shouldn’t, but you could get used to it. “It’s not silly, right?” you ask quietly while you both catch your breath. “It’s anything but silly, Daisy,” he says with certainty. And you don’t think you’ve ever heard Art Donaldson sound so resolute.

He kisses you all over when you get to your room. You thank the holiday gods for keeping your roommates away. Your red dress finds itself on the floor much faster than you expected. He’s too good at this. You’d feel much less confident if he didn’t look at you like you held the sun in your left hand and the moon in your right. You find yourself sitting on top of him in your bra and underwear, his hands on your hips steadying you. You’ve never felt sexier than you do right now. A little voice in your head screams at you to engrave this feeling. But you silence it; it’s insecure and reminds you of Jenny, the last person you want to think about when you’re at second base with Art Donaldson.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips trail down your neck to your chest, unclasping your bra with one hand like a pro. “Shut up,” you manage to say, and he chuckles into you, as if he’s trying to bury himself within you. It's hot, stupidly hot. In a few minutes, he half-gently tosses you onto the bed, stripping down with a speed you didn’t think possible. He leans over you in boxers, and you close your eyes for a moment, knowing you have to remember this. Because he really is a work of Art. You’ve never known anyone whose name suited them more.

His lips were everywhere on your body at once, if that’s even possible, and his fingers slid in and out of you before you even realized you’d lost your underwear or when you’d started making that sound from your throat. Everything embarrassed you but also felt natural. You’ve never experienced such a range of emotions with anyone else, and the second that thought crossed your mind, you found yourself on the edge, and Art was above you, pressing soft kisses to your stomach, whispering soothing words while you caught your breath.

He entered you, and you felt like he was enveloping you from every angle, your moans blending together. You think a tear slipped down your cheek. You’re almost sure Art kissed you right where it fell. He was both gentle and rough at the same time. You don’t think that makes sense, but a lot of things tonight don’t make sense. You almost laugh at that thought but decide against it. Instead, you look at him, only to find his eyes already on yours, and he’s so beautiful, with his blond curls and that smile stretched across his face. “Fuck, Art,” you manage to mumble as you feel another orgasm building within you, you didn’t know you were capable of more than one. To be honest, even one was rare until recently. “I know, Daisy, I know,” he says in a half-strangled voice before his lips are back on yours, his hand wrapping around yours, and you think it’s incredibly intimate. You’ve never had sex like this before. You don’t think there’s any trace of your old crush left. You think it might be love. After he cleans you up with a towel he soaked with warm water, he lies beside you, and the small bed forces you to stay close. Maybe it’s Art who refuses to let go. You’re not sure why, but your legs are tangled together and your head is resting on his chest. “Are you going to break my heart again?” he asks, and you don’t know what he means because you’ve never broken anyone’s heart, least of all Art Donaldson’s. But he’s so certain in his question, he doesn’t take it back. He doesn’t correct himself. “When did I ever break your heart?” you asked. “When didn’t you?” he replies with a half-laugh. “You gave me a flower when I was eight and then didn’t talk to me for ten years,” he says quietly, like he’s sharing a secret you already knew but never understood.

It’s definitely love. You think you’re okay with that.

Hey? I don't even know what's going on but i'd like you to tell me what you think about that? that's it. Talk to me I guess.............

#challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #wreck my plans #art donaldson smut

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jjkarmy091 · 2 months ago

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Second Best - Jungkook

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Y/n and Sewoon have been friends for a very long time. They met each other on the playground nearby their house. Y/n was eating a strawberry lollipop when two boys tossed it away. Y/n’s face turned red and she was about to cry until a girl her age appeared. She was wearing a white dress with her midnight black hair tied into a ponytaile.

“That was so rude!” The girl in the white dress shouted.

“Well, she got the lollipop. Not me.” One of the boys grumbled.

“Apologize to her now! That's so rude of you. Gonna tell mom” The girl said sternly and calmly to her brother and his friend. The two boys huffed and said sorry to Y/n. Y/n looked at her in adoration. She was so young, just like her but she sounded way more mature.

“Thank you for that” Y/n said softly and the girl just smiled and offered her hand. “I’m Sewoon.” Y/n looked at her in surprise, it was the first time someone her age would talk to her nicely.

Y/n took Sewoon’s hand and smiled, “I’m Y/n.” Sewoon smiled wider when she heard Y/n’s voice and said, “Okay Y/n. From now on we’ll be the best of friends” And just like that, a fresh new friendship blossomed.

Y/n works as a waitress in a small coffee shop. She’s trying her best to save up some money to open up her own coffee shop one day. Meanwhile Sewoon, she’s a new uprising model and singer. It’s not that Y/n is not beautiful. Both girls are beautiful, just painfully different to one another. Sewoon has this luscious long black hair almost at the end of her back. Her eyes are a mix of brown and green, the most sweet eyes you’ll see. She has defined structured cheekbones and her smile is her best feature. Whenever she smiles, anyone would involuntarily turn their heads just to admire her.

Sewoon’s beauty can charm anyone in the room, while Y/n’s beauty is so soft and warm. Y/n loves wearing baggy sweater while Sewoon loves dresses that would show her curves. Y/n prefers the natural look while Sewoon loves the glamorous look. Y/n would love to sit back home binge watching a new tv series while Sewoon loves going out and meet new people. The two are total opposite but their friendship stays strong. They balance out each other well.

“Y/n!” Sewoon’s cheery voice broke Y/n’s attention from the old lady she was serving. She was waving and smiling widely that Y/n couldn’t help but smile back.

“Would that be all, mam?” Y/n asked politely and the old lady nodded and went back to the stall and gave the note to the people at the back. Y/n rushed over to Sewoons sitting near the stool bar.

“Is there anything I could help you, mam?” Y/n asked teasingly when she reached her best friend. Sewoon rolled her eyes and said

“You know what?”

“What?” Y/n asked trying to hide her excitement meeting her close friend. “I GOT SIGNED BY THE AGENCY TODAY! The one I told you about remember?” She shouted so loud with her eyes twinkling with happiness. Y/n mouth opened and she jumped so high giving Louisa the biggest hug she could. “OMG! NO WAY! I KNEW IT!” You worked so hard. I was sure you’d be able to get it. I’m so proud of you.” Y/n said hugging her. The two girls were so happy that they didn’t realize someone else has entered the coffee shop.

“Y/n! Lover boy is here.” Sana, one of your co-workers said. Y/n turned around and looked over to the other end of the stool bar to where her hidden not so hidden crush was. Jungkook was wearing button up clothes and smirked at her. Y/n flushed red and wiped some of the imaginary wrinkles of her aprons.

She then looked over to Sewoon and nodded quietly, telling her she needs to go back at work. She was about to walk over to Jungkook until Sewoon grabbed her arm, turning her back. “Is that the Jungkook, JUNGKOOK?” she whispered and yelled at the same time. Y/n’s face went even more red and it made Sewoon’s dimple pop up.

Jungkook is a regular customer that made Y/n’s heart beats abnormally fast. Y/n would always gush over Jk to her best friend. So it was obvious that Sewoon knew about him. It was a wonder why Y/n has not introduced him to her, maybe at the back of her mind, Y/n knew that Jungkook would fall over Sewoon and selfishly Y/n wanted him all for herself.

She reluctantly nodded and left to take jungkook’s regular order. “Y/n! I missed you!” He shouted exasperatedly that she lightly hit his head because all of the attention he attracted.

“Shut up, you saw me just yesterday.” she answered and jokingly rolled her eyes. “Is it hard to believe that I miss my favourite girl?” He smiled so big that made her heart skip a beat. She was turning red and jungkook laughed knowing how easily Y/n can be flustered.

“So what is it that you want today?” Y/n asked him while pretending to be uninterested. “just the regular as always.” he said still smiling at her. “Hey..Who’s that girl?You know... The one you were talking before coming here” Jungkook nodded his head at where Sewoon was standing, smiling down at her phone glowing like a beautiful goddess.

Of course Jungkook would notice her, who doesn’t? Just the thought of them together made Y/n’s heart crumpled and an unwanted feeling rising at her pit of the stomach. Y/n cleared her throat and smirked, “That’s my best friend.” She answered confidently to cover up her heart breaking into pieces.

“You’ve got a really pretty friend there and you didn’t even think of introducing me to her?” Jungkook grinned so wide knowing that Y/n would eventually give in.

“Well, you’ve got too many competitions and the probability of you getting her is too low.” Y/n sassed her crush and Jungkook mocked hurt.

“You know? For a second there I thought you were jealous.” He answered smirking which made her cough, “Oh please, why would I be?” while Y/n’s heart thumped loudly.

“If you’re not jealous then I dare you to introduce me to her.” Jungkook stated confidently and for a sudden second Y/n felt her heart crumble and break a little. But she was a very stubborn girl and her pride got into her way. Although at the back of her head she hoped Jungkook was different. That somehow, he would choose her over Sewoon.

“Ughhh, fine… only because you’re THAT desperate.” Y/n groaned and gives in. With every steps she took, her heart felt heavier and heavier because she knew. She knew that Sewoon would snatch Jungkook from her. Even if she didn’t intend to do so.

-- --

As soon as Y/n introduced Jungkook to Sewoon, her heart broke. Jungkook’s eyes looked at her best friend with such admiration. He fell head over heels for her. It was no surprise to Y/n because it happened countless of times.

Whenever Jungkook pays a visit to the coffee shop, the once silly banter turned into a question and answer about Sewoon. He would ask simple questions about her. What’s her favourite ice cream flavour? What’s her favourite flower? What’s her ideal man?

All the questions Y/n would know about him but never once did Jungkook ask those questions to her. Sometimes he would prefer to gush over Sewoon in front of Y/n which squeezed her heart every single time.

“My god! Sewoon’s recent picture on Instagram was perfect. She looks absolutely gorgeous in that pink dress.” He said with his eyes shining with adoration and lips curved upwards. Y/n could only nod her head, “She’s always gorgeous.”

“That, My friend, is right.” jungkook said nodding his head while pointing his index finger on Y/n. She felt like her heart was ripped apart and shoved back inside her stomach. She hated this so much but couldn’t even think about a way to avoid this feeling.

“Anyways, I gotta go! I’m picking up Sewoon tonight.” He hurriedly grabbed his things and waved her goodbye. Y/n nodded her head with her eyes brimming with tears but Jungkook was way too far to notice those tears. It was just the middle of the day yet Y/n felt ultimately tired. After hours that definetely felt like years she’s finally back at home.

She was preparing some food for herself when she heard a knock on the door. First being startled, but then remembered that the only person who could be it was Sewoon, since she is one of the only people who knows where she lives. Opening it, she stares at Sewoon and lets her step in her small apartment, smile lighting up the whole room. It made Y/n happy for a second until she remembered the reason behind that smile and that it was his favourite feature of hers which made her mood turns sour.

Sewoon ran inside and gave Y/n a quick hug and helped her out. When the both of them were bundled in the living room with thick blankets and some food on their hands, Sewoon’s hand turned fidgety. She was watching the movie but her mind wandered far away. Y/n didn’t fail to notice her best friend weird behaviour that made her ask, “You okay, Sewoon-shi?” She turned her head to look at Y/n her eyes full of panic and Y/n’s heart clenched at what was the reason behind that reaction..

“Do you still like Jk?” She asked timidly.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and asked, “Jk?” Sewoon cleared her throat and smiled, “Jungkook.” Oh, she got a nickname for Jungkook already.

“Why do you ask?” Y/n smiled widely that may seems like she’s teasing Sewoon. “Do you still like him, Y/n?” She asked persistently that hammered Y/n’s heart. She took a deep breath and asked, “Do you?” Sewoon’s head glowered and nodded softly. Y/n’s heart dropped but managed to give her a convincing smile.

“He likes you too you know, both of you would look great together.” Y/n said softly and reached her arms out for Sewoon to give her a hug.

“You think so?” she asked Y/n once again, unconvinced. Y/n closed her eyes and nodded her head knowing that if she opened them Sewoon would straight away know she was lying.

I mean who was she to stand between two people that liked each other? She always knew she wouldn’t stand a chance with someone like Jungkook. Was she ever gonna be made for someone to be honest? She always tried so hard not to feel less than everyone else, but loving herself was never something Y/n was able to do. Not when everytime she was into someone or something that was immediately taken from her.

When Sewoon felt Y/n’s head nodding she squealed. Which only made her stomach churned and tears burned inside her eyes threatening to spill which she only closed and tried to sleep it off, in hope that Sewoon woudn’t notice.

It was gonna be a long night, and Y/n already regretted open the door for the girl she always thought was her best friend.

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lizziee-olseen · 2 months ago

Text

First time

Wanda maximoff x fem reader

Word Count:2,061

Summary: When an old friend of your mother comes to visit you you don't like me at all but when you saw the beautiful red-haired woman those thoughts quickly disappeared

Warnings: Spanking, oral sex, rope ties, maybe corruption I don't know the truth tell me if I miss something :D

Note: English is not my mother tongue, so l apologize for any spelling mistake. It is also my first time publishing here so be kind I promise it will improve in the future T-T

You weren't happy when your mother told you that an old friend was going to stay with you, you appreciated the tranquility of the house since it was only the two of you and sometimes your other mother who came to visit you and who sometimes stayed for dinner if she stayed longer than expected but you were sure that she only did it to annoy your mother

You were an only child you didn't grow up with more children nearby if they weren't those at school, but you never invited them to your house since for you it was your sacred place, you didn't like them to invade those at the school that was yours

And it has been like that until your mother told you one day that her childhood friend was getting divorced and needed a place to clear her mind and relax, you were not nice at first you didn't want a stranger to live with you but after a few days you accepted it

You searched through your mother's things to find out who this supposed childhood friend was, it was not easy at first but after rummaging for a long time you found the old photos, without calculating that they were your age in the photo you smiled when you saw your mom hugging the woman, without a doubt you were impressed by her beauty, you wondered how it ended up divorced since the person undoubtedly must have been an idiot to leave a tremendous woman, after a while you put everything away and went to your room thinking about the woman Mysterious that she was going to move

The day came quickly, you saw the woman get out of a beautiful red car you laughed internally since it was almost the same as her hair, you came down from your room and went to say hello, your mother hugged her tightly and she also stayed a little behind waiting for their intimate moment to end, when they let go you saw how the woman stayed looking at you you felt a little uncomfortable since her gaze was intense and intimidating

"Oh honey, she's Wanda, the friend I told you was going to stay with us for a while," your mother commented happily as she brought you closer to greet Wanda

"When you leave" you didn't know why you had said, you didn't mean that, when you realized the words you had said you wanted to apologize immediately but the laughter he let out left you blank

"Wow, I see that you took out your other mother's attitude" you were frozen not knowing what to say fortunately your mother saved you

"Don't pay attention to her Wanda, and/it's a little difficult but I'm sure they'll get along amazing"

"I know we'll do it Agatha" Wanda says while winking at you quickly your cheeks blushed and the slight heating of this one bothered you

Both women laughed and went inside the house leaving you there alone processing what happened without a doubt it was going to be a difficult few months

──────•❥❥❥•──────

The first week flew by, you were careful you tried not to be in the same places as Wanda and it's not that you and your mother lived in a very big house they only had the first floor and on the second were the rooms next to the bathroom that was only yours but with Wanda here you have had to share it with her

The bathroom has been a big problem that right now you would like to just occupy the bathroom that Agatha has there in her room

Wanda has a big problem with not closing the lock when she bathes or occupies the first time you ran out slamming the door and the image of her silhouette that was shown on the screens was engraved in your head, at first you thought she was forgetful and that she was used to it since she was a married woman so you assumed that couples did not close the doors but then seeing her go out with her towel and wink you began to doubt that

The second time it happened it was worse since you were brushing your teeth and Wanda came in alone in a towel you were frozen not knowing what to do or say she just smiled at you and took off the towel leaving it in all its glory and then entered the shower, you quickly spit out the toothpaste and ran out to lock yourself in your room that day you didn't even go out to eat for your luck you always have sweets to eat

Since then you avoid Wanda as you can, you try to occupy your mother's bathroom just making an excuse that yours is being occupied with Wanda, it's time for dinner you invent a quick excuse saying that you are hungry just to go down when everyone is asleep and serve you a plate of food

In fact, right now you're warming up your food, it was already past 12:00, your mother was fast asleep and you assumed that Wanda too, I wish you had noticed the reddish monster that she wasn't happy with your attitude, I wish you hadn't gone down to eat that night

You decided to make yourself a dessert with apples so you were cutting one, you were so focused that you didn't notice the person who was surrounding you, until a body pushed you slightly into the kitchen cabinet

"That does a sweet thing cutting with a sharp knife" you were frozen not knowing what to do it took you a while to react

"I just want to eat apple" you spoke quickly Wanda denied and gently took the knife out of your hand

"You shouldn't do it alone, a delicate thing shouldn't have something so sharp in its hands" she began to cut while she still had you trapped against the furniture

"I'm not a little girl" you claimed a serious mistake from you and your big mouth

"I see that you still have that attitude, maybe I should punish you for being insolent with older people" Wanda laughed bitterly and then left the knife aside, you wondered what was going through the older woman's head but it didn't take you long to think since Wanda in a quick movement pulled down your pants leaving you alone in your pink panties baby

"Wanda, what are you doing?" you said while trying to get closer to your pants that were on your feet

"Shhh calm down just let me do what I have to do" she tried to calm you down but seeing that your hands just wanted to recover your pants she sighed "little one you leave me no choice but to tie you up"

Wanda waved her hand and a soft pink fabric appeared. She quickly tied your hands and legs leaving you motionless. Your heart was beating a thousand. You didn't know whether to scream for your mother to come down or just let the woman get away with it.

"Calm down I promise you'll like it, you just need to shut up or you would like your mother to see how her best friend gets away with her with her little daughter" you quickly shook your head the idea alone makes you vomit "I knew you were good at listening, now my question is how many spankings do you think is right for you" you stayed for a while thinking about an answer to give her

"Maybe 20 sounds good" she laughed her hands moved everywhere in your body

"If 20 sounds like a good number for your first punishment, count for me but not so strong little one we don't want your mother to discover us"

The first spanking was delicate it almost didn't hurt it was a soft blow you wondered if all the punishment was going to be that easy but how wrong you were, the next blows came more rudely you were almost sure it wasn't 20 spankings since after the 13th your mind only focused on how your ass started to hurt and how your pussy started to get wet

"Look what a dirty girl, I knew you weren't as innocent as you showed yourself" Wanda was fascinated with how red your ass was, she was only supposed to come to challenge you for eating so late but your little attitude that you gave her the first day was engraved in her mind, she had found her little doll to break and corrupt to her liking

Her trip was supposed to be only temporary she was going to enjoy her loneliness and learn to be alone, her divorce was not easy for Wanda in fact she didn't want to separate from him but things got complicated and she couldn't anymore

But you were refreshing, someone new full of innocence and purity you were the light that Wanda needed in this darkness and I didn't plan to miss this opportunity for any reason

"Look at your princess parts, I'm sure you feel uncomfortable down there" you didn't know if I had to answer but you did

"It feels sticky Wanda" she carefully lowered your panties without disturbing your reddish ass your pussy was dripping it was a divine image

She carefully brought a finger closer to your swollen clitoris you jumped a little because of her touch in your area but as fast as the movement was she moved away "tell me little one have you ever touched yourself down there"

"No, I've never done it" Wanda smiled to herself without realizing it, it only made Wanda's desire grow more in her and she wanted to make you hers forever

"Well then I'll be careful, I promise to take care of you" before putting her fingers on you she carefully untied the ties that tied you leaving you free, she grabbed you carefully making you lift your ass to leave your dripping pussy visible

Wanda thought to herself that it would be good for you, for your first time, without thinking much about things she bent down and ran her tongue through your folds you jumped at first because of the sensation but then without realizing it your hips grinded in her face

Wanda was delicate at first her movements had you hypnotized, she sucked your cloud gently and then did it again with force, you had to cover your mouth since you couldn't stand the noises

You could only hear the noises of Wanda eating you, her mouth was talented and her tongue had hypnotized you your cloud was fascinated with the circular movements that they were giving her without a doubt Wanda was a great expert in this

You felt a tingling in your stomach it was a delicious sensation until you thought you were going to urinate so you tried to move Wanda's face away from your pussy, she instead bit you something hard but not painful

"Wait Wanda, I think I'm going to pee" you tried to convince the woman to get out of there

"Don't worry, that's what it feels like to have an orgasm" Wanda reassured you, she went back to doing her thing until she guided one of her fingers and began to massage you

The tingling increased you tried to hold it a little but you couldn't, you had your first orgasm in your kitchen and it was delicious your body twisted because of the pleasure you were having, your flows increased Wanda quickly licked everything as if her life depended on her, when there was nothing left she walked away without kissing you there she went up your panties and then your pajama pants

She turned you delicately and kissed you, it was a slow and delicate kiss she guided you in everything since you didn't know how to kiss

"I knew you were a delight now go to your room and ah don't skip your meals again or I won't have to punish you again understood" you just nodded, you quickly ran out of there not without first giving Wanda a quick kiss and you went to your room thinking about what happened without a doubt it was a good idea that your mother had invited Wanda.

#wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #dark wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda fanfic

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bigification · 3 months ago

Text

Prom King

"We want to welcome you back to Fairway High for your ten year reunion. Come catch up with some old friends and share all the amazing adventures you've had since you graduated! And stick around for a special speech from our Prom King and Queen."

Dan shuddered as he read the email. He had completely forgotten about the stupid reunion. It's funny, he thought, he used to imagine how he would show up to the reunion in a sports car with a perfect bod and high end clothes hugging his muscles. But that was back when he was the most popular football player in his town. Parents adored him, popular teens idoled him, and nerds feared him. Things have changed a lot for Dan since then.

He stared at his half naked body, ravaged by the bad habits of an ex jock. His appetite stayed after he graduated high school, but the exercise didn't last long. He went off to study business in college, as any high school jock did. His time spent at football practice turned to frat parties and junk food, which quickly showed on his waistline. It really put a dent in his once untouched ego, especially once people nicknamed him as 'freshman' fifty. It wasn't quite fifty pounds, at least not in his first year. It sure was well over that by the time he graduated though. And in that time, his clean shaven body had been buried in thick dark hair from head to toe. Although he didn't entirely mind the more mature look, especially once his beard grew in, it complemented his growing gut. Though Dan took another sizable cut to his ego when he started to go bald at the ripe age of 20. Comb overs only lasted him so long, so he started shaving it when he was in his senior year.

He always said it built character, which to be fair, he was far less awful after graduating college than he was in high school. The email only made him remember how awful he was back then. He was the typical jock with his possy of suck up football players who had no personality and the most popular girls. He would torment anyone who was even slightly chubby, or even just smart, they were all beneath him in his mind. How were people gonna react when he shows up to the reunion looking 9 months pregnant and about to burst. It horrified him at the thought of them treating him how he treated them.

Then the horrifying thought hit him, "I'm the Prom King!" He shouted out loud at him in the mirror. Not only would he have to show his face, and gut, he would have to stand on stage in front of his entire graduating year and say a speech about being Prom King. He would be a laughing stock.

"I have to do something about this." He thought.

The reunion was still two weeks away, he could workout, or diet, or maybe buy some clothes that hide his fat. He did a frantic search online but everything just seemed like a scam. He scrolled through page after page of scam supplement and intense workout regimen until he found something interesting. A witch who lived nearby. A witch who specializes in body modifications. It was drastic, but could be crazy enough to work.

Dan contacted the witch with a request to make him into an absolute jock, the kind of man his high school friends would expect him to be 10 years later.

After a bit of back and forth, an appointment was set, and Dan went to bed happy.

The day of the appointment came in a flash. Dan threw on his classic base ball cap to cover his balding head, and dressed in some gym clothes that he thought would look sick on his new hunky body. He excitedly hopped in his car and drove down to the witches house. To his surprise, it was just a regular apartment in a regular apartment building. He was expecting some evil looking house, but seemed less intimidating anyway. He knocked on the door, and he was met with yet another surprise. A petite and nice looking woman wearing all black opened the door.

"Come in darling." Her voice was enchanting. "Sit." She continued in a soft but commanding tone.

Dan sat in a small chair in front of an antique looking table. The raggedy wooden chair creaked under his weight as the witch sat across from him.

"So... You say you want a strong, manly, and attractive appearance?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Well for what it's worth, you're much more attractive than you used to be." A cold breeze blew past Dan as she spoke.

"Oh... Thank you." His cheeks reddened at the comment.

"I do have to warn you, there are some... dangers to this spell." Her tone darkens.

Dan just raised his eyebrows.

"There are people who feed off of a witch's magic. Now I know how to avoid them, but I will be imbuing this magic into you. So you may have a target on your back from people trying to steal your magic."

"I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Just don't draw too much attention to yourself." The witch warned. "Anyway. I'll get on with it."

She dipped her hands in a small bowl that was laid on the table. "Stand up." She commanded, and Dan followed. She walked around to Dan's side of the table, fingers wet from whatever was in the bowl. She pressed her fingers into his forehead, and it felt like all the tension in his body vanished in a split second. In fact, all feeling seemed to vanish in Dan's body, leaving him stood exactly still. Something about being frozen should have scared him, but he felt a strange sense of calm in the moment.

The witches fingers traced down Dan's face, through his beard and over his soft man tits. She lifted the finger and firmly pressed it back down into his chest. It was like the air was pushed out of his chest as the fat on his moobs collapsed in on itself, leaving his chest completely flat. She then pulled her finger outward, and his pecs grew as she pulled. The muscle swelled until two juicy pecs pressed hard against his tang top. Dan was shocked, he couldn't believe it actually worked, although he still couldn't move.

The witch then traced her finger down to his gut. She laid the palm of her hand against it and pushed, causing his belly to vanish in a second. And once again, she pulled her hand back to form a defined six pack over his flat stomach. She moved her finger around his side, melting away his love handles and giving him a thin waist.

She then suddenly sped up, as if she hit her stride. Her hands gripped Dan's soft arms, and suddenly definition appeared on his rapidly growing biceps. They grew to the size of melons as his shoulders broadened to match. Good thing he wore a tang top or else his sleeves would be in shreds on the floor. Her hands slid down his forearms, doubling their size in the process, and she held his hands, making them so massive they could completely cover his face.

She then bent down and grabbed his thighs, causing them to thicken to the point that Dan couldn't separate them anymore. She thickened his calves as she moved to his feet, making them burst out of his shoes as they grew to a monstrous size 20. As she stood back up, Dan realized the witch stood at eye level to his pecs when they used to be the same height.

The witch then wrapped her arms around Dan's hulking body and cupped his ass cheeks, making them expand into two thick globes of fat that threatened to rip through his shorts. One hand then came back and gripped Dan's dick, making it grow and thicken until it was a massive 10 inches and hanging down his pant leg.

Finally, her hand lifted up to Dan's face, making a few adjustments to match his body. A thicker beard, a sharper jawline, a slightly bigger head to match his much bigger body, and thick brown hair on his head.

Dan gasped as he regained control of his body. He teetered back and forth as he tried to get used to his new body. His legs felt strong, holding up his immense muscle mass with ease. He even struggled to move his arms around at first because it was difficult to move that amount of mass. His meaty hands took a moment to explore his expansive body; bouncing his pecs and his ass, gripping his cock, and even rubbing through the short brown hair that now covered his head.

"How are ya feeling handsome?" The witch broke the silence.

"Are you kidding me, I feel amazing!" Dan flexed, as if to show off his body like a new toy.

"Well I'm glad you like it, now we should talk abou-" the witch was interrupted as Dan basically ran out the door.

"I'll be fine, thank you!" The sound of his voice got quieter as he shut the door behind him.

On his way home, Dan excitedly stopped by a retail store to grab some clothes that actually fit. He confidently strolled in with his tang top riding up his hairy six pack, and shorts that were clearly too small for him. He picked up a few clothes that were big enough to fit him, but small enough to leave little to the imagination about his physique. The clothes weren't exactly pretty, but nobody would care about the clothes when his hunky body was the one wearing them. He even flirted with the cashier on the way out, making his cheeks flush red.

He swiftly made it home and passed out like he had just had the workout of his life.

He woke up the next morning, feeling like he was still in a dream. He shot out of bed as if he'd had three cups of coffee already. This was how he spent every morning leading up to the reunion. Dan was more productive this week than he had been in years. His looks quickly got him a modest following on Instagram, and even on onlyfans after his followers pestered him enough. He reconnected with a bunch of his old friends from high school, just to build a rapport with them before the reunion. And he spent most nights partying and staying the night at some strangers house. By the time the reunion rolled around, it was as if he was the same person he was in high school. Hot, athletic, cocky as hell, and maybe just a bit nicer than he was back in high school. So much for 'building character'.

Before he knew it, it was time to leave for the reunion. He had been prepping for this all week, there was no way he could mess it up now. Dan was meant to be the Prom King. He wore a snug pair of jeans that hugged his ass perfectly, and a grey shirt that showed off his juicy pecs, and finally threw on the letter jacket he wore when he was Prom King ten years prior.

He pulled up to the reunion in his shitty, half broken down car and parked as far out of the way as possible just so no one could see the piece of shit he drove. He pushed open the door to the venue and walked past the crowd of people as if all eyes were on him, because they were. Everyone who was anyone knew who the Prom King was.

He strolled to the back of the stage, so he could get ready for his speech. He stood alone, in silence for a moment, trying to hype himself up. Even after the amazing week he has had, it was the same insecure fat ex jock under there who was scared that everyone would laugh at him onstage. But his moment of silence was interrupted when loud footsteps approached him from behind.

An older man strolls into the backstage, walking right past Dan as if he wasn't there. Dan grimaced as the man got close, seeing the man's large ball belly hanging out of his shirt, which seemed to have multiple buttons popped off. "What is this pig doing here?" Dan couldn't help but think of the old man. The old man promptly sat down in a chair near Dan, leaning back and pulling the shirt up his gut, as if to show it off.

"Who the fuck are you!?" Dan yelled as he got fed up with the old man's antics.

"Oh, you don't know who I am?" The man said as he continued to adjust himself in the seat.

"Why would I know some loser like you, are you the Prom Queens dad or something." Dan scoffed.

"I thought the witch would have warned you about me." The old man's demeanor became more serious.

Dan felt a jolt of fear run down his spine. How does he know about the witch?

"Oh I bet she did." The man started to laugh. "But all the attention online and the sex and the porn, oh the porn was so good." The man grunted as he rubbed his crotch. "You just couldn't resist being popular!"

Dan only grew more afraid as the man monologued.

"I am going to enjoy this." The old smiled as he got up from the chair.

"Enjoy what?" Dan questioned as he tried to back away, but couldn't. Why couldn't he back away. The old man grew closer and closer, but no matter how much Dan wanted to run, he remained frozen in place. The man placed his finger on Dan's forehead, causing a blue light to escape from his body and enter the man's body.

Dan watched helplessly as the man's arms grew to the size of melons, his biceps bursting through his sleeves. Meanwhile, all Dan could feel was his sleeves becoming looser as his arms deflated. The man's moobs shrunk into a solid pair of pecs as Dan looked down to see his chest swell until he was left with two soft man tits. The man's ball gut got smaller and smaller as fat piled into Dan's stomach, leaving him with a heavy gut that spilled under his shirt. The man's pants grew tighter and tighter as thick muscles filled his thighs and juicy fat perked up his ass. Dan felt weak as his legs became more fat than muscle, he even felt the bulge in his pants shrink as he watched a thick bulge appear in the man's pants.

As if that wasn't enough, Dan watched on in horror as the man's face ages down from 60 down to 30. His wrinkles melted away as Dans became dry and wrinkly, his face thinned out as Dan's became rounder and chubbier, and his hair gained a light brown colour as Dan's thinned out and became white. The man pulled off his shirt to reveal a forest of dark hairs sprouting all over his body as a bushy bread covered his face. Meanwhile Dan can feel his face go cold from the much thinner facial hair.

As the transformation came to an end, the man flexed as he felt the energy course through him.

Dan once again let out a gasp as he regained control of his body, though this time his voice was much deeper and gruffer. Dan panicked as he ran his hands through all of the new rolls of fat on his body. He even stumbled back as he adjusted to the weight of his gut.

"What did you do to me!?" Dan yelled.

"Oh you did this to yourself buddy, y'know how easy it was to find you." The man responded, sounding almost exactly like you used to.

"You made me fat." Dan's voice breaks.

"Oh I did so much more than that, check the camera in your phone old man." The man smiled, as if he was containing his excitement.

Dan dreadfully pulled out his phone and opened the camera app.

Dan shed a tear as he saw the fat old man staring back at him through his phone's camera. His gut was bursting out of his jacket and his hair was nearly as thin as it was before his initial transformation.

"And if you don't mind I'll be taking that." The man grabbed the letter jacket off of Dan and put it on himself.

The man confidently strutted towards the stage, ready to give his speech as Prom King, but Dan wasn't ready to give up that easily. His footsteps were heavy as he followed the man onstage and grabbed his arm.

"You're not gonna take this away from me!" Dan yelled.

This was followed by a moment of silence as the crowd went awkwardly quiet. Everyone's eyes were once again on Dan, but it didn't feel like before.

"Ooohhh, that was embarrassing old man." The old man whispered to Dan before approaching the mic. "I'm sorry everybody, my dad is just a bit jealous that I'm in my glory days and he's not." The man says to the entire venue, then turns to you once again. "Isn't that right, dad? " He said as he pressed his finger into Dan's chest.

Dan froze once again. This time, memories flooded into his brain. Memories of him growing old, never reaching the happiness and popularity he had in high school. He even had a son, and named him Dan jr. after himself of course. Though his son would grow to top him in all of his achievements, including becoming prom King back when he was in high school. Dan Sr. finally decided to swallow his pride and let his son have the spotlight. He slowly waddled off to the side and watched as his son gave his speech as Prom King.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #male transformation #reality change #hairy #male wg #muscle tf #age progression #body swap

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amirasainz · 10 days ago

Note

Hiiii, I love your blog so much. I was wondering if you could do Lando, who's girlfriend is a model. It is during the fashion weeks and she is very exhausted but boyfriend Lando takes care of her and is cheering her on the whole time. Thank you bby 💘

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Lights, Camera and Flashes

The buzzing chaos of Fashion Month had arrived. Yn was in her element, juggling fittings, rehearsals, and back-to-back shows across New York, London, Milan, and Paris. As the world’s most sought-after model, her name was on every designer’s list. Each city meant new challenges, new outfits, and new pressures.

“Babe, are you sure you’re okay?” Lando asked as they touched down in New York for the first leg of the month.

Yn, seated beside him on the private jet, turned to give him a smile. “I’m fine, Lando. Just excited. It’s going to be a long month, but I’ve done this before.”

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Yeah, but this year, you’re in every major show. You’re human, Yn, not a robot.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said firmly, squeezing his hand. “Especially with you here.”

Lando chuckled. “Alright, but remember, the moment you feel off, you tell me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she promised.

---

New York

The energy in New York was electric. Yn stepped into the first fitting at Alexander Wang’s studio, where she was immediately swarmed by assistants and stylists. Lando stayed close but out of the way, watching her work with awe.

“You’re staring again,” Yn teased during a break, catching him leaning against the wall with a goofy grin.

“Can’t help it,” he replied. “You’re incredible.”

Show day arrived, and Lando was front and center in the audience, holding a bouquet of red roses. As the music boomed and Yn stepped onto the runway, he couldn’t contain himself.

“Let’s go, Yn!” he shouted, drawing amused glances from nearby attendees.

Yn strutted down the runway, her confidence radiant. She caught Lando’s eyes briefly, a small smile tugging at her lips. When the show ended, Lando was waiting backstage with his bouquet, pulling her into a tight hug.

“You killed it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks, babe.”

But as they exited the venue, they were met by a sea of paparazzi. Lando immediately stepped into protective mode, wrapping his arm around Yn’s waist and glaring at anyone who got too close.

“Back up,” he barked, shielding her with his body.

“Lando, it’s okay,” Yn murmured, though she appreciated his protectiveness.

He guided her safely to their car, refusing to let go until they were away from the chaos.

---

London

The second week brought them to London, where Yn had fittings with Burberry and Victoria Beckham. Though she was still riding the high from New York, Lando noticed the subtle changes—her slightly slower pace, the way she leaned on him more often.

“Feeling alright?” he asked one evening as they returned to the hotel.

“Yeah,” she replied, but her voice lacked its usual energy.

Lando wasn’t convinced. After her first show in London, she came backstage to find him waiting with a massive bouquet of lilies.

“You didn’t have to do this again,” she said, though her smile betrayed how much she loved it.

“Of course, I did. You deserve it.”

The paparazzi were even more aggressive in London, shouting questions and shoving cameras in their faces. Lando tightened his grip on Yn’s hand, his jaw set.

“Lando, it’s fine,” she whispered, but he shook his head.

“It’s not fine. They don’t get to treat you like this.”

Once they were safely inside their car, Lando turned to her. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said.

“I can handle it,” she replied softly.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he countered.

---

Milan

By the time they arrived in Milan, Yn’s energy was noticeably lower. Her flawless walk on the runway was still the talk of the industry, but off-stage, she was quieter, more fatigued.

“You’re not eating enough,” Lando pointed out one morning as she picked at her breakfast.

“I’m just not hungry,” she said.

“You’re running on fumes, Yn,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine, Lando,” she insisted, though the dark circles under her eyes told a different story.

Lando doubled down on his support, making sure she had everything she needed. After each show, he was there with flowers, helping her navigate the crowds and shielding her from the paparazzi.

When she came back to the hotel after her third show in Milan, she collapsed onto the bed. Lando didn’t say a word; he simply ordered room service, drew a bath, and set up her favorite playlist.

“Come on, princess,” he said, lifting her gently. “Time to relax.”

---

Paris

By the time they reached Paris, Yn was running on pure determination. Paris Fashion Week was the grand finale, and every major designer wanted her.

Lando could see how hard she was pushing herself, and it worried him.

“Yn, you need to slow down,” he said one evening as they walked back to their suite.

“I can’t,” she replied, her voice cracking. “This is the biggest week of the year.”

“And you’re the biggest model of the year. You’ve already proven yourself,” he argued. “Your health is more important.”

She didn’t respond, but he noticed the tears welling in her eyes.

On the night of her final show, Lando was louder than ever, cheering her on as she walked the runway. When it was over, he met her backstage with the largest bouquet yet.

“You did it,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

“I’m so tired,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

---

When they finally returned to their hotel that night, Lando went all out to pamper her. He ordered her favorite food, prepared a warm bubble bath, and queued up her favorite movie.

“Lando,” Yn said as she sank into the bath, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, sitting beside the tub. “You’re my princess, Yn. You deserve the world.”

As the movie played later, Yn curled up in Lando’s arms, her head resting on his chest.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to do anything alone,” he replied, brushing a kiss against her temple. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Yn drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion of the month finally catching up to her. But with Lando by her side, she felt safe, loved, and completely at peace.

And for Lando, there was no greater honor than being her rock.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris #beautiful model #model!reader #fashion week

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pickingupmymercedes · 4 months ago

Text

Ways they show they love each other pt.1 - Lewis Hamilton

5 snippets of fluff - part 2 here

Also there's a bunch more just like these ones if you like them - Ways to say I love you p1 / p2 ; All these little things - p1 / p2 ; Small firsts

request : "i was thinking after reading the one shot you did about fans favorite moments and 5+5, and i got an ideia of a compilation of moments caught on cameras of Lewis and Y/n basically forgetting there’s people around" - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +4k

a/n: Hi anon, your request made me realize how I was relying heavily on dialogues, so it took me a bit to get these done, but I hope you like it as much as I loved writing them❤️

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

______________________________________________________________

A stolen glance

The behind-the-scenes of any photoshoot was always a controlled chaos—a blend of soft chatter, click of cameras, the occasional bark of direction.

Bright lights bathed the studio in a cool, almost clinical glow, every corner meticulously curated for perfection. Lewis was the center of it all, effortlessly commanding the attention of everyone present.

And even in the midst of the frenetic energy, he had his calm, collected demeanor that made the whole affair seem easy.

He was, after all, no stranger to the spotlight.

Y/n stood off to the side, nestled in a corner of the studio where she could work without drawing attention. Her laptop perched on a small table, open to a report she had been poring over since they arrived.

She knew her place there—quiet, supportive, and out of the way. And the last thing she wanted was to be a distraction.

But as the photoshoot progressed, she found herself stealing more and more glances at Lewis, unable to resist the magnetic pull he had, specially on her.

He was dressed to a tee, as always, the tailored suit hugging his frame perfectly.

The photographer would call for a slight adjustment, and Lewis would respond with a slight tilt of his head or a shift in his posture, a model of effortless grace.

But it wasn’t just the way he looked that held Y/n’s attention; it was the way he carried himself, the way he seemed so completely in his element.

Lewis, ever attuned to the energy in the room, could feel her eyes on him even when he wasn’t looking. After all, it was a sensation he had come to know well—the warmth of her gaze, the quiet intensity of her presence.

He let a small smile play on his lips as he adjusted his cufflinks, the corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly. He didn’t need to look directly at her to confirm his suspicious.

But then, it happened.

The photographer called for a brief pause to adjust the lighting, and Lewis took the opportunity to glance over in Y/n’s direction.

She was no longer pretending to work, her focus entirely on him now. Their eyes met across the room and the rest of the studio seemed to fall away.

They didn’t need words to communicate; everything was said in that single, stolen glance.

To an outsider, it might have seemed like nothing more than a casual exchange of looks, but for those who paid close attention, there was a depth to the way they looked at each other, a silent conversation happening beneath the surface.

Her eyes softened as they met his, a small, almost imperceptible nod of understanding passing between them. His smile widened just a fraction, a quiet acknowledgment of her support.

The moment was fleeting—just a few seconds, really—but it was enough.

Enough for the photographer’s assistant, who had been adjusting a reflector nearby, to notice the subtle exchange. She glanced between Lewis and Y/n, a curious smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

As the photoshoot resumed, Y/n kept stealing glances at Lewis, and each time, she found him looking back. It was a dance they played often, the stolen glances—a way of staying connected even when they were surrounded by people.

Another crew member, tasked with holding up the boom mic, caught on as well. He nudged his colleague, nodding subtly in their direction. “You see that?” he whispered, a knowing grin spreading across his face.

His colleague followed his gaze, catching one of those silent exchanges. “Yeah,” she replied, her voice low with amusement. “They’re not exactly hiding it, are they?”

The shoot continued, but for those who were paying attention, the focus shifted slightly. It was no longer just about capturing the perfect shot of Lewis Hamilton; they were capturing the stolen glances, the unspoken words—a part of the narrative, an unexpected layer to the day’s work.

And when the shoot finally wrapped, Lewis walked over to Y/n. He didn’t say anything at first, just reached out to take her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him, her expression soft, a silent question in her eyes.

“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice low, meant only for her.

She replied with a nod, the smile on her lips answering more than just his question.

As they walked out of the studio hand in hand, the photographer couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he should have captured those stolen glances on camera.

Because sometimes, the most beautiful moments aren’t the ones that are posed or staged—they’re the ones that happen when you think no one else is watching.

Except someone always is.

A playful nudge

The video started with a shaky view of the Malibu coastline, the sound of waves crashing faintly in the distance, and the rhythmic hum of cars passing by.

The camera panned over the scenic beach for a moment before a voice behind the camera blurted out “Oh my God, is that Lewis Hamilton?”

The camera zoomed in, focusing on a couple standing just before the crosswalk, both decked out in running gear.

Sure enough, it’s Lewis, slightly out of breath, hands resting on his hips as he waits for the signal to cross. Next to him, Y/n standing with a relaxed smile, glancing up and down the road.

“Are they out for a run smack in the middle of Malibu?” another voice chimed in from off-camera, clearly excited by the sighting.

The camera adjusted, capturing the full view of Lewis and Y/n as they stand side by side, the breeze lightly tousling Y/n’s hair.

She had her phone in hand, taking a quick peek at the screen before tucking it back into her shorts. The shot lingering on them for a few seconds, the fan behind the camera trying to stay as quiet as possible.

Y/n nudged Lewis gently with her shoulder, just enough to make him stumble a step to the side. The camera zoomed in at just the right time, catching Lewis’s amused reaction. He laughed, the sound carried by the breeze, and shakes his head, clearly enjoying the playful jab.

The fan behind the camera giggled softly and it was clear when a voice whispered “Did you see that?”

Lewis, grinning, turned toward Y/n, his expression full of that familiar warmth fans would seldom catch a glimpse of.

He nudged her back lightly, more of a gentle tap, like he doesn’t want to push too hard. The camera catching the playful spark in both of their eyes, the kind of silent exchange that speaks volumes.

The fan continued filming, capturing how Y/n laughs at his halfhearted nudge, rolling her eyes as if to say, Is that all you’ve got? She gave him a mock glare, but it’s softened by the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

There’s an ease between them, the kind that makes anyone watching feel like they’re intruding into something private, something special.

With the light finally turning green Lewis gestured toward the crosswalk, but Y/n made no move to start jogging again. Instead, she just stood there for a second, shaking her head with that mischievous look still on her face.

Lewis nudged her again, this time even lighter, before giving her a mock-serious look like he’s trying to get them back on track.

Y/n giggled, finally taking a step forward as they begin to cross the road, but not before throwing a playful glance over her shoulder at Lewis.

The camera zoomed in on the way he followed her with an amused smile, clearly enjoying the moment.

As they make their way across, Y/n’s pace picked up, and Lewis kept right alongside her, their matching strides making them effortlessly in sync.

The fan behind the camera sighed “Look at them. Relationship goals, for real.”

The video lingered for a few more seconds as Lewis and Y/n continued their run, their figures growing smaller against the backdrop of the coast.

Just before they disappear from view though, Lewis reached out, placing a hand on Y/n’s back for a split second as if to push her on, the two of them laughing as they ran off down the road.

The video cut out with the fan’s last words: “I swear, I don’t want it if it’s not like that.”

A stolen kiss

The celebration was electric, the kind of moment that would be burned into everyone’s memory for years to come.

Ferrari had finally done it. Lewis crossed the finish line in first place, the prancing horse charging ahead of the pack in what felt like destiny fulfilled.

The garage exploded into cheers, the pit wall erupted in a frenzy, and the grandstands painted a sea of red echoed the voices carried on the wind.

It wasn’t just another victory though. It was his first win with Ferrari—a culmination of months of hard work, adjustment, and even doubts.

The weight of expectation had been heavy, but now, standing in the aftermath of triumph, he felt lighter than air.

The team swarmed around him as he finally made his way back into the garage, hands clapping his back, smiles wide and infectious.

The sea of red uniforms buzzing with joy as they prepared for the post-race photo—Ferrari’s tradition to mark the moment with everyone who had a hand in their success.

Y/n was already there, waiting on the outskirts of the group, smiling at him with a look that carried every ounce of her pride.

He caught her eye, and for a second, the noise and chaos dimmed, leaving just the two of them locked in a gaze that said everything without needing to speak. She was beaming, a mixture of joy and awe in her eyes, and he knew that this win was as much hers as it was his.

As the photographers tried to position the team into position, Lewis found his way toward Y/n, weaving through the jubilant engineers, mechanics, and team staff, until he was beside her.

She was grinning, arms already outstretched as he pulled her into a tight hug, both of them laughing breathlessly in the whirlwind of it all.

“Your first win here” she whispered in his ear; her voice barely audible over the din of celebration. “You did it.”

“We did it” he corrected, voice low, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

Before either of them could say anything more, a team member called out for Lewis to join the front of the photo, waving him over to stand with the trophy.

He gave Y/n a quick look, something cheeky and playful dancing in his eyes. She smile in response.

“Go on” she nudged him, gesturing toward the growing mass of Ferrari crew.

But as Lewis moved toward the group, he didn’t go far.

Instead, in one swift, practiced motion, he spun around, grabbed Y/n by the wrist, and tugged her toward him. It was quick, almost too fast to catch amid the chaos, but then—there it was.

A stolen kiss.

His lips met hers in a flash of spontaneity, right in the middle of the noise and celebration, brief yet brimming with passion.

The kind of kiss that left a spark even in its brevity, enough to draw a few cheers and whistles from the surrounding team, though most were too busy being caught up in the victory to fully take notice.

Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise for a split second before she melted into it, a soft laugh escaping against his lips as her hand came up to the back of his neck. Lewis grinned against her mouth, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable even in such a fleeting moment.

As quickly as it had happened, it was over. Lewis pulled away, his trademark smirk firmly in place as Y/n stood there, flushed and breathless, trying to suppress the giggle that bubbled up in her throat.

“Get in there!” someone from the team shouted shaking their head with amusement at the exchange - clearly a jab at his former team.

Lewis winked at Y/n before finally joining his team, stepping into the heart of the crowd where the Ferrari flag waved high, and the race trophy gleamed in the sunlight. He held it up, his teammates cheering louder than ever, the cameras snapping relentlessly to capture the moment in all its glory.

The celebration photo would show the entire team draped in victory, smiles wide and arms slung around each other. But if you looked close enough, tucked away in the background, you’d see it—Lewis with that telltale grin, Y/n just behind him, the traces of their stolen kiss still lingering in the soft curve of her smile.

It was a tiny moment in the grand scheme of things, almost imperceptible amid the fanfare and noise.

But for those who knew what to look for, it was impossible to miss.

Because even in the chaos of celebration, even in a moment as public as this, their love found a way to slip through the cracks—brief, stolen, but undeniable.

And that was the beauty of it.

A tender moment

The pit lane was quieter now, a contrast to the earlier chaos of the day.

Most of the crew had packed up, the cars were tucked away in the garage, and the hum of the engines had long since faded into memory. The track waiting the next day’s action, and only a few lingering souls wandered about, soaking in the calm before the storm.

Among those few, a fan stood by the barrier, camera slung around her neck, taking in the rare stillness of the circuit. She hadn’t expected to see anything interesting at this hour, not with the hustle and bustle already behind them.

But as her eyes drifted across the pit lane, she caught sight of something—a scene so simple that it stopped her in her tracks.

There, just outside the Mercedes garage, stood Lewis and Y/n. They weren’t hurried, weren’t caught up in the business of racing. No, this was different.

They were wrapped in their own little world, their bodies turned toward each other as if nothing else mattered.

Lewis had his hands loosely around Y/n’s waist, his thumbs gently rubbing circles against her sides, grounding her in their quiet corner of the pit lane. His head was tilted slightly, eyes focused entirely on her as she spoke softly to him, her words just for his ears.

There was a warmth in his expression, something tender and utterly unguarded.

He wasn’t the man under pressure, expected to perform at the highest-level day in and day out. Right now, he was simply Lewis, listening with all the care in the world to the woman he loved.

Y/n’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she spoke to him. She was leaning in just a bit, her hands resting lightly on his chest, and from a distance, it almost looked like they were swaying slightly, as if caught in their own rhythm.

Whatever she was saying though didn’t seem urgent—it was the kind of conversation that unfolded naturally, without need for resolution.

The fan watched, unnoticed, her breath catching slightly as she witnessed the way they moved together, as if the rest of the world had faded away and left only them standing in the soft glow of the overhead lights.

There was something so private about it, and yet so visible in its simplicity—an everyday moment captured in the stillness of a place built on speed and intensity.

And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Lewis leaned in. His lips brushed her temple, soft and unhurried, lingering there for just a second longer than a simple kiss.

It wasn’t meant for anyone else but her, a quiet reassurance, a silent promise. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her body relaxing into him as his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her gently into a hug.

Her hands rested against his chest, and he bent slightly to accommodate her, his mouth grazing the top of her head as he left another kiss.

Lewis shifted slightly, tightening his hold on Y/n for just a second before loosening his grip, but not letting her go.

He said something then, his voice too low to carry, but whatever it was made her laugh softly, the sound like a ripple in the still night air. She tilted her head up to look at him, and the fan could see the way her eyes lit up in response to whatever Lewis had said.

Here, late at night on the pit lane, far from the roar of engines and the scrutiny of crowds, Lewis wasn’t the global superstar. He was just a man in love, holding onto the person who made everything else fall into place.

It wasn’t the flash and dazzle of a public relationship; it was something quieter, more personal. And yet, in its tenderness, it said so much more.

The fan’s camera captured it all. And in less than an hour everyone had witnessed their moment.

A moment that was meant to be quiet, meant to be just for them, but one that also showed so much to everyone lucky enough to watch the video.

A moment that proved love wasn’t always about grand gestures or declarations.

Sometimes, it was as simple as a kiss on the temple and the way two people held each other in the stillness of the night, saying everything that needed to be said without a single word.

A playful tease

The fan video started with shaky footage as the camera panned across the crowded Vegas club, neon lights flashing to the beat of the music.

People were dancing, laughing, completely wrapped up in the energy of the night, but then the lens focused, and the camera zoomed in, capturing a familiar face standing at the edge of the VIP section.

It’s Lewis Hamilton, casually leaning against the rail, drink in hand.

He’s cool, relaxed, but there’s something else that catches the attention of the person filming. The camera shifting slightly to the right, catching a glimpse of Y/n moving through the crowd, dancing.

She’s not facing Lewis at first, but there’s no doubt she’s teasing him. The way she swayed, her body moving to the rhythm, full of that playful energy.

The camera zoomed in further, capturing the way Lewis watched her, a small smile playing on his lips. He stood there, arms crossed, amused, but anyone watching the video can tell he’s completely tuned in to her.

A few seconds into the video, Y/n spined closer, twirling just out of his reach before laughing and disappearing into the crowd again.

The fan holding the phone shifted slightly, following her movements as best they could while keeping Lewis in the shot. A few muffled voices could be heard in the background, someone saying, “That’s Hamilton, right?” and another voice chiming in, “Yeah, and that’s his girlfriend!”

Y/n circled back into view, closer to Lewis this time, brushing past him with a light touch, just enough to make him chuckle. The fan holding the camera catching the moment perfectly.

His smirk turning into a quiet laugh as he leaned down slightly, calling something out to her over the music. The camera didn’t pick up what he said, but the spark in Y/n’s eyes is clear when she looked back at him.

The person filming giggled quietly, clearly amused by the interaction, and the video cut to a new angle as the fan moved closer.

Y/n could be seen fully then, standing just in front of Lewis, dancing to the beat, a wide grin on her face. She didn’t say anything, just kept on teasing him with her moves.

Every now and then, she glanced over her shoulder, making sure he was watching – and of course, he was.

One of the fans nearby cheered her on, and the camera shook a little as the person holding it laughed, saying, “He’s down bad.”

The footage zoomed in again, focusing on the way Lewis watched Y/n with a look that was both amused and completely smitten.

Another cheer came from someone in the crowd as Y/n finally moved back toward Lewis, this time leaning her back against his chest for a second.

The scene caught perfectly—the way he smiled down at her, his hand brushing against her waist before she moved away again, still dancing.

The video blurred for a second as the fan tries to get a better shot, but when it cleared, it captures the way Y/n leaned in, her lips moving as she says something into Lewis’s ear.

The music is too loud for the camera to pick up her words, but Lewis’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with that playful light that only she could bring out of him.

“I’m so single, look at them.” someone off-camera said, and the video shook again, this time zooming out slightly to catch the whole scene—the lights, the crowd, the two of them standing in the middle of it all, lost in their own world.

At the end, Y/n spined one last time, landing in front of Lewis with a dramatic little twirl.

She laughed, throwing her arms up in the air, and Lewis taking his chance, reached out before she could escape again. His arm closing around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

Y/n let out a surprised laugh, her hands instinctively going to his arms. He leans into her, whispering something into her ear that made her smile as she tilted her head back to look at him.

The camera zoomed in once more, catching the way his fingers tighten around her waist, holding her close. It was just them—wrapped up in their moment, amid the noise of the club.

Y/n turned in his arms, facing him fully, their smiles softer as she placed her hands on his chest. The music pounding on.

The video ends as Lewis pulled her in closer, their foreheads almost touching, his lips moving as she looked into his eyes and a smirk rising up in her own lips.

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