#no choice but to give back shots in the walk in- WHO SAID THAT?
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Caitlyn kiramman x female reader
The Shadows We Share
The damp, cold air of Stillwater Prison clung to every stone, the metallic tang of despair thick in the narrow corridors. Caitlyn adjusted her rifle strap as she followed the warden, her sharp eyes scanning for any sudden movement. She wasn’t here to gawk; she was here to get answers.
Vi, walking ahead of her in tense silence, had been more than reluctant to return. Stillwater was a scar, a place where guilt and anger intersected with memories she couldn’t fully ignore. She had grudgingly agreed to let Caitlyn help her—after all, Caitlyn wasn’t one to give up once her mind was set. And Vi? She couldn’t shake the feeling she’d left something behind here. Or someone.
As they reached the farthest block of cells, the warden slowed. “You sure this is the one you’re looking for?” he grunted, gesturing to a cell shrouded in shadows.
“I’ll know it when I see it,” Vi shot back, her voice sharp. Caitlyn glanced at her, sensing the tension beneath her bravado.
The cell in question wasn’t like the others. Its occupant didn’t bother pacing or glaring through the bars. Instead, they sat on a cot at the far end, back straight, head tilted slightly as if aware of their observers before they even approached.
When the figure turned, Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice how striking they were. The sharp planes of their face, the unmistakable strength in their posture, and yet, there was something else—a cold, calculating air that seemed almost suffocating.
Vi’s breath hitched. “Y/N?”
The woman blinked, recognition flickering across her stoic features. “Vi.” Her voice was low, even, as if the years hadn’t passed. “Took you long enough.”
Caitlyn watched the exchange curiously, her rifle steady in her grip. Y/N—Vi had called her that—wasn't just another inmate. There was a history here. She could see it in the subtle shift in Vi’s demeanor, the way her usual cockiness dimmed into something more subdued.
“Who’s this?” Y/N asked, her tone neutral but her gaze landing on Caitlyn with an almost clinical assessment.
“Caitlyn,” Vi muttered, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s with me.”
The corner of Y/N’s mouth quirked into what might’ve been a smirk. “With you? Didn’t think you’d take to making friends with enforcers.”
“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” Vi shot back, her fists clenching. “But you—you’re alive. How the hell are you here?”
Y/N leaned back slightly, the chains on her wrists clinking faintly. “Where else would I be? People like me don’t get to walk free, Vi. You know that.”
Caitlyn stepped forward. “And who are you, exactly?”
Y/N’s gaze snapped to her, sharp and unyielding. “Someone who doesn’t need to answer your questions.” Her eyes flicked back to Vi. “But maybe you should answer mine. What are you doing here?”
Vi exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “We’re here for something else. Didn’t expect to see you here, though.”
“You didn’t expect to see me because you forgot me,” Y/N replied flatly, her tone cutting but not bitter. “Not that I blame you. You had other priorities.”
“I didn’t forget,” Vi said, her voice low, almost pleading. “I thought you were—”
“Dead?” Y/N offered, tilting her head slightly. “Close enough.”
Caitlyn, feeling the tension growing, intervened. “You’re from Zaun?”
Y/N raised a brow. “A long time ago.”
“She’s more than that,” Vi interjected, her voice laced with guilt. “She’s—she was like a sister to me. She taught me how to fight, how to survive. Vander trusted her with everything.”
Caitlyn frowned, the pieces starting to fit together. Y/N wasn’t just another criminal. She was someone Vi had cared about deeply, someone who had been part of her past long before Stillwater.
The conversation shifted as Caitlyn pressed further. “If you were that close to Vander and the others, why are you here? What happened?”
Y/N’s eyes darkened, her expression unreadable. “Zaun has no shortage of people who want you dead. I made a living off that fact.” She paused, her lips curling into a faint smile. “Apparently, the Piltover authorities don’t appreciate hitmen in their streets.”
“You were arrested for assassination?” Caitlyn asked, her voice sharp.
“Among other things,” Y/N replied nonchalantly. “Stillwater’s my penance.”
Vi shook her head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration flashing across her face. “You could’ve gotten out. You’re too smart for this.”
“Getting out isn’t the problem,” Y/N said quietly. “Staying out is.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Caitlyn glanced between them, sensing that there was far more to this story than either of them was letting on.
Before the conversation could continue, the warden returned. “If you’re done reminiscing, we’ve got schedules to keep.”
Caitlyn nodded, but Vi hesitated, her gaze lingering on Y/N. “We’re getting out of here,” she said firmly. “All of us.”
Y/N raised a brow, her expression skeptical. “You really think it’s that simple?”
Caitlyn stepped forward. “It’s not simple, but it’s possible. If you’re willing to work with us.”
Y/N studied her for a long moment, her piercing gaze seeming to dissect Caitlyn’s every word. Finally, she nodded. “Fine. But don’t expect me to play nice.”
Vi smirked, the tension easing slightly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As they turned to leave, Y/N’s voice stopped them. “Vi.”
She looked back, her expression softening slightly. “Yeah?”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
The Escape Plan
Henlo, I do have a second part of this if you all want it. So if you do comment and like. If anyone of y'all have any requests then you can also leave those in the comments or in the submission box thingy
Okiee byeeee
#lesbian#wlw#wlw post#x fem reader#x reader#x fem!reader#caitlyn x you#arcane caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman x reader#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman x you#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn kirraman#violet arcane#vi x reader#arcane women#league of lesbians#league of legends#x female reader#x masc reader#wlw fanfic#lol#reaper2187#arcane
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Arm Wrestle
Remy bets Logan to arm wrestle leading to chaos.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
a/n: Another brilliant idea inspired by @she-loves-wolvie and the tikok she sent me.
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
The living room buzzed with low chatter as everyone gathered around the coffee table, uno cards fanned out in their hands. Ororo was lounging gracefully on the couch, Hank sat cross-legged on the floor with an air of calm concentration, and Scott was already in team leader mode , explaining the rules like this was some kind of world-saving operation.
“Does everyone understand the rules?” Scott asked, scanning the group like he expected someone to whip out a notepad.
“It’s uno,” Hank replied, arching an eyebrow. “I think we’ve got it covered, fearless leader.”
“Honestly, we could’ve played something more exciting,” Remy chimed in with a dramatic sigh, leaning back on his palms. “Poker’s always a good choice.”
Scott groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We would be playing poker if someone didn’t turn every game into some raunchy ‘flirt with Rogue’ fest.”
You chuckled as Remy smirked unapologetically. “What can I say? I like raisin’ the stakes—especially when ma chérie is playin’.”
Your grin widened as you leaned forward. “Speaking of, where is Rogue tonight? You’re actually here without her?”
Remy shrugged, looking vaguely offended. “She’s out with Jean. I’m a gentleman, cher. I give her space.”
Scott muttered something under his breath about miracles, but you ignored him, turning your attention back to your cards. The first round went well enough, with everyone groaning over +4 cards and loudly accusing Remy of stacking the deck. But by the third game, the excitement had dwindled. Ororo sighed dramatically as Hank leaned back against the couch, looking mildly bored.
“Okay,” Remy said, slapping his cards down on the table. “Uno ain’t doin’ it for me. We need somethin’ else.”
“And by ‘something else,’ you mean something chaotic,” Ororo quipped, rolling her eyes.
Before anyone could respond, Logan walked into the room, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He was clearly looking for you, his eyes scanning the group until they landed on you.
“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, his voice low and gravelly.
Remy perked up instantly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, well. Look who’s here. Logan, you ever been good at arm wrestlin’?”
Logan raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the table, then back to Remy. “What’re you talkin’ about, Cajun?”
Remy leaned forward, grinning. “How ‘bout a little challenge? One hundred bucks says I can take you.”
Ororo groaned, pushing herself to her feet. “That’s my cue to leave. I’ve seen this show before.” She gave you a knowing look before heading out of the room.
Logan smirked, walking closer. “You wanna arm wrestle me? For a hundred bucks?”
Remy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m feelin’ lucky tonight.”
Logan let out a low chuckle, pulling a chair over to the table. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”
The room buzzed with excitement as everyone gathered around. Scott was already placing bets. “Hank’s the only one who might have a shot,” he whispered to Kurt. You leaned back on the couch, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile.
Logan planted his elbow on the table, his arm flexing as he waited for Remy to grasp his hand. “Don’t cry when you lose,” he said, his smirk widening.
Remy matched his smirk. “You talk big, mon ami . Let’s see if you can back it up.”
The match lasted less than ten seconds. Remy strained, his face turning red as Logan barely budged, his smirk never wavering. With a casual flick of his wrist, Logan slammed Remy’s hand down onto the table.
“Pay up,” Logan said, holding out his hand.
“Dammit,” Remy muttered, pulling out his wallet as the rest of the group burst into laughter.
One by one, Scott, Hank, and even Kurt tried their luck, each meeting the same fate. Hank came the closest, his muscles straining as he almost— almost —managed to push Logan’s arm down, but Logan held firm, finishing the match with a grunt of effort.
“Nice try, big guy,” Logan said, clapping Hank on the shoulder.
“That… was impressive,” Hank admitted, shaking out his arm.
As the guys continued to grumble and tease each other, you stood from the couch, a playful glint in your eye. “Alright, my turn.”
Logan’s head snapped toward you, his expression instantly shifting to something more serious. “No way, sweetheart.”
“Why not?” you challenged, crossing your arms.
“‘Cause I’m not gonna arm wrestle you,” he said firmly. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to the table. “Logan, I’m not made of glass. And besides, you’ve been beating everyone all night. Let me take you down a peg.”
The guys burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the idea.
“Come on, Logan,” Scott said, grinning. “You afraid of your wife?”
Logan shot him a glare. “Watch it, Summers.”
But you weren’t backing down. You moved to the table, sitting across from him and resting your elbow on the surface. “What’s the matter, tough guy? Afraid you might lose?”
Logan let out a low growl, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Fine,” he muttered, leaning forward and clasping your hand in his. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The moment your hands connected, you felt the rough warmth of his palm against yours, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Ready?”
“Ready,” he rumbled, his eyes locked on yours.
Scott counted down, and the match began. Logan was holding back—you could feel it—but you didn’t mind. You weren’t planning to win with strength.
As he focused on your hands, you tilted your head, giving him a soft, playful look that you knew always got to him. “You know,” you murmured, your voice teasing, “I think this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you look nervous.”
Logan’s grip faltered for a split second, his gaze flicking to your face—and that was all you needed. With a triumphant laugh, you pushed his hand down onto the table, slamming it against the surface.
The room erupted into cheers and laughter as you leaned back, grinning.
“I win,” you declared, holding out your hand to Remy. “Pay up.”
Remy laughed, handing you a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “Remind me never to bet against you, cher.”
Logan shook his head, a grudging smile tugging at his lips. “That was low, darlin’.”
You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “All’s fair in love and arm wrestling.”
Scott clapped Logan on the back, laughing. “Looks like the Wolverine’s got a weakness after all.”
“Yeah,” Logan muttered, pulling you into his lap with a smirk. “And I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”
The group dissolved into more laughter and teasing, but all you could focus on was the warmth of Logan’s arms around you, his soft chuckle in your ear as he whispered, “You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart.”
#logan howlett#wolverine#fluff#x men logan#x men wolverine#james logan howlett#marvel#hugh jackman#professor logan#logan howlett fluff#days of future past#x men movies#x men comics#x men#logan howlett imagine#the wolverine#james howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#mcu#logan wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#logan xmen#remy lebeau#hank mccoy#scott summers
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15. "you’re my favorite person, you know that?"
w/ woozi showing favoritism to reader
of course!!! thank you for requesting 🤍
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // jihoon's m.list
fluff prompt #15: "you're my favourite person, you know that?"
it was a lazy afternoon at the dorm. the boys were scattered across the living room, some playing video games, others talking or scrolling through their phones. you were sitting on the couch, flipping through a book, when hansol and seungkwan walked in, both looking unusually serious.
"hey, jihoon," seungkwan called out, making his way over to where jihoon was sitting at the kitchen counter, focused on something on his laptop. "could you help me with something?"
jihoon barely looked up from his screen. "what is it?
"i need you to help me figure out what to wear for tomorrow’s event," seungkwan said, looking particularly dramatic. "you know, something that'll make me look good but still comfortable."
hansol, standing beside seungkwan, added with a smirk, "yeah, and make sure it's stylish. we can't let him embarrass us."
jihoon sighed, clearly unimpressed. "not today, guys. i’ve got work to do."
seungkwan shot him a pleading look, even crossing his arms in a show of exaggerated desperation. "please, jihoon, you're the only one with taste around here! i can't trust these other guys with my wardrobe."
hansol rolled his eyes. "i have taste too, you know."
"you still think wearing a tracksuit to an event is a good idea," jihoon said, finally looking up with a raised brow, and hansol made a face in response.
"fine, fine," seungkwan said dramatically, throwing his arms up in defeat as he turned away. "we'll just go ask someone else then."
hansol nudged seungkwan and made his way to the couch where you were sitting. "think you could help us out?"
you looked up from your book, blinking in confusion. "me? help you guys with what?"
hansol grinned and pointed to seungkwan. "help him pick out an outfit. you know, show him how to look good for once."
seungkwan grinned as well, adding, "yeah, just a little fashion advice, that's all. nothing serious."
you chuckled, amused by their antics. "i’m not a stylist, guys, but sure, why not? i can help out a little."
just as you were about to stand up, jihoon interrupted, his voice laced with the usual mild annoyance. "seriously? you're going to help them?" he looked at you, then back at seungkwan and hansol with a shake of his head.
"they'll be fine," you said with a grin. "they just need a little guidance."
seungkwan nodded eagerly, and hansol went to the couch, sitting down next to you. "thank you, thank you! see, we knew you'd be the one to help us."
jihoon made a face but returned his attention to his laptop, not bothering to hide his mild irritation. "whatever," he muttered. "i don't have the patience for this."
you could feel jihoon’s eyes lingering on you as you helped seungkwan pick out an outfit. you gave your honest opinions on a few shirts and pants, explaining that some of his choices might be a little too... flashy. you narrowed it down to five shirts, unsure which would look best on him, and after a moment of indecision, you turned to jihoon, who was still at the kitchen counter.
"jihoon," you called, "can you help me decide between these? i'm not sure which one would look best."
jihoon paused for a second, his expression softening just slightly. without hesitation, he got up and walked over to where you were sitting. "you’re asking me to help? alright," he said, the slight amusement in his voice & the small smile on his face making it clear he wasn’t annoyed.
seungkwan, watching from the side, raised an eyebrow. "wait a second," he said, crossing his arms. "when i asked for help, you said no, but now that she asked you’re helping out? that’s not fair!"
you laughed, feeling a little embarrassed as jihoon chuckled lightly. "he likes me, that's why," you teased, giving jihoon a playful look.
seungkwan groaned dramatically. "that's such favoritism. when i ask, it's ‘no, i’m busy,’ but when you asks, it’s ‘sure, let me help.’" he shook his head, turning to hansol. "unbelievable."
you smiled at jihoon as he helped you pick out the best shirt for seungkwan, still teasing, "i guess you just know i need your expertise, huh?"
after a few more minutes of finalizing the outfit, seungkwan was satisfied, and hansol leaned back, clearly relieved. "thanks for saving us from a disaster," he said with a laugh.
"someone has to keep you on track, you would've picked the wrong one," jihoon replied dryly, though there was a soft smile on his face. "but also, you're my favourite person, you know that right?"
you don't answer except for the smile adorning your face, "that's so disgusting," hansol comments as seungkwan faked a gag.
seungkwan waved you off. "seriously, you're a lifesaver."
you smiled but then noticed jihoon still sitting across the room, not paying attention to the conversation anymore. there was a shift in his expression, something you couldn’t quite place, but it was clear he wasn’t exactly happy about being left out of the decision-making process.
when the others finally left to get ready, you stayed behind, gathering your things to leave too. jihoon’s voice broke the silence. "you always help them out so easily," he said quietly, his tone just a little sharp.
you turned to face him, a small frown tugging at your lips. "what do you mean?"
"i thought i was your favorite person," jihoon muttered, looking at you with an unreadable expression. "you didn’t even hesitate to help them."
you were caught off guard, your heart skipping a beat. "jihoon, i—"
he cut you off, his eyes meeting yours. "i’m just messing with you," he said, though the slight hint of vulnerability in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.
you took a few steps closer, noticing how his words weren’t as light as usual. "you’re my favorite person," you said softly, smiling as you stepped into his space, your hand gently brushing his arm. "but you’re also the hardest person to convince. you never ask for help."
he raised an eyebrow, a little teasing. "i don’t need help."
"yeah, but you need me," you said with a wink, pulling his attention back to you. "and that’s okay. it’s just… sometimes, i want to help you too."
there was a long pause, and for a moment, you thought jihoon would brush it off, but instead, he leaned down a little, his lips brushing your forehead. "you know, i kind of like that," he said quietly. "you’re the one person who can always get me to change my mind."
jihoon’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile. "you already have it."
you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "good, because i plan on keeping that title."
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen x reader#fanfic#daisymbin: reqs#seventeen jihoon#jihoon seventeen#lee jihoon fluff#lee jihoon fanfic#lee jihoon imagines#lee jihoon x reader#woozi x reader#woozi seventeen#seventeen woozi#woozi fluff#woozi fanfic#woozi imagines#jihoon x reader#woozi x you#lee jihoon x you
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What’s up with Cait’s behavior in this press tour? A SamCait fic it is!
Some fluff, some angst, some steam 🔥
Don’t Play with Fire -
The dull hum of the air conditioning filled the hotel room as Sam shut the door behind him. Caitríona stood at the mini-bar, pouring herself a whiskey, her back turned to him. She didn’t acknowledge his presence, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her awareness.
He dropped his coat onto the armchair by the door, watching her carefully. “You’re avoiding me,” he said finally, his voice low but steady.
Cait took a long sip before turning to face him, her expression unreadable. “And you came here to call me out on it?”
Sam shrugged, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Seemed like the kind of thing we should talk about.”
She scoffed, setting the glass down with a deliberate clink. “What’s there to talk about, Sam? We’re here doing press, just like we’ve always done. Nothing’s changed.”
“Don’t,” he said sharply, Here’s the continuation:
Sam’s blue eyes locked onto hers, frustration flickering behind them. “Don’t give me that. You’ve been acting different—closer, touchier. You’re pushing, Cait, and I don’t know what game you’re playing.”
Her jaw tightened. “Game? Christ, Sam, you think this is a game?”
“I don’t know what it is,” he snapped, stepping closer. “But for years, you’ve kept me at arm’s length, and now… now you’re looking at me like—” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair.
“Like what?” she pressed, her voice quieter now but no less biting.
“Like the way you used to,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Caitríona’s gaze softened for a moment, but then she turned away, pacing toward the window. The city lights outside cast her in a faint glow, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.
“I tried, Sam,” she said finally, her voice cracking just slightly.
“Tried what?”
“Tried to move on. To build something stable, something… normal. But it’s not working.” She leaned against the window frame, her arms wrapped around herself. “Tony’s a good man. He’s safe. But it’s not—” She stopped herself, shaking her head.
Sam took a cautious step toward her. “Not what?”
“Not this,” she said, gesturing vaguely between them. “Not… whatever the hell this is. It’s messy and painful, and half the time I hated it, but it was real. It was alive.”
His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. When he did, his voice was laced with bitterness. “And yet, you were the one who walked away.”
Her head snapped toward him, her eyes blazing. “What choice did I have, Sam? Do you know what it was like, being told we couldn’t be because it didn’t fit their narrative? Watching them parade you around like some bachelor fantasy for the fans while I had to pretend I didn’t care?”
“I hated it too,” he shot back. “But I would’ve fought for us. You didn’t even give me the chance.”
“Fought for what?” she retorted, stepping closer. “A secret relationship we could never acknowledge? A love that could only exist behind closed doors? That’s not a life, Sam. That’s a prison.”
“And your marriage isn’t?” he countered, his voice cutting.
Her face crumpled slightly, and she looked away. “Maybe it is,” she admitted. “But at least it felt like a choice. With you… everything felt like it was out of my control.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Sam took a step closer, his voice softer now. “You say it was out of your control, but you were always the one holding the reins, Cait. You decided when it started, and you decided when it ended. And now, after all these years, you’re here… doing this.”
She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed. “I just know that I’m tired of pretending. Pretending I’m fine, pretending I don’t miss you, pretending I don’t think about what we had every goddamn day.”
His defenses crumbled at her words, and he closed the distance between them in two strides. “Then stop pretending,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “If you miss me, if you still feel it… then stop.”
For a moment, she just looked at him, her breath hitching. Then, as if something inside her snapped, she grabbed his face and kissed him fiercely.
Sam froze for half a second before his arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him as if she might disappear again. The kiss was hungry, desperate, years of longing and restraint unraveling all at once.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, their breathing ragged.
Sam watched Caitríona, her face pale and tear-streaked, and his chest tightened like a vice. He hadn’t prepared for this. Not for her to unravel everything he’d so carefully buried over the years. She was his constant—sharp, cynical, and maddeningly stubborn. But tonight, the cracks in her armor were laid bare, and it was pulling something primal out of him.
He dragged a hand through his hair, forcing himself to breathe. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice came out low and rough, tinged with frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me what was happening with Tony?”
She blinked at him, her lips parting as if to answer, but nothing came out.
“For months, Cait,” he pressed, his voice rising slightly, though not with anger. “Years, even. You knew things were falling apart, and you didn’t tell me. Do you have any idea what it’s been like? Watching you with him, trying to convince myself you were happy?”
Her shoulders sagged, and she wiped at her eyes again. “I didn’t want to drag you into my mess. I thought… if I told you, it would make things harder for both of us.”
“Harder?” He let out a short, humorless laugh, pacing away from her before turning back, his blue eyes blazing. “Cait, do you know how many times I’ve had to stop myself from calling you? From showing up at your door? From saying something bloody stupid during interviews because I can’t get you out of my head?”
Her breath hitched, and she stared at him, her expression stricken.
“I tried to move on,” he admitted, his voice softer now but no less intense. “I tried so damn hard. But every time I saw you—even when we were just reading lines, or doing those bloody awkward press tours—it was like… like I was right back where we started. Like none of it ever ended.”
Caitríona stepped closer to him, her hand hesitating before brushing against his arm. “Sam…”
He shook his head, stepping back, the distance between them feeling both necessary and unbearable. “I can’t do this again, Cait. I can’t let myself believe we have a chance, only to watch you go back to him.”
“I’m not going back to him,” she said firmly, her voice shaking slightly but resolute. “Sam, I’m done. I told him months ago. He’s hardly even been home since.”
“Then why are you still with him?” Sam demanded, his frustration bubbling to the surface again. “Why haven’t you—” He stopped himself, his fists clenching as he tried to regain control of his spiraling emotions. “I need to know, Cait. Are you going to leave him? For good?”
Her lips trembled, and she looked down, her silence stretching too long for his liking.
“Because if you’re not,” Sam continued, his voice breaking now, “if this is just… some moment of doubt, or guilt, or whatever, then tell me. Because I can’t handle you breaking my heart again. Not after everything.”
She looked up at him then, her eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s not doubt, Sam. Or guilt. It’s you. It’s always been you.”
His breath caught, and he stared at her, his heart thundering in his chest.
“I was scared,” Caitríona admitted, her voice trembling. “Scared of what leaving would mean. For Leo, for my career, for everything. But after Dad died… and after you showed up for me, I realized I couldn’t keep pretending. I couldn’t keep trying to make something work when my heart was… somewhere else.”
Sam closed his eyes briefly, her words sinking in like a balm and a blade all at once. He wanted to believe her, to let himself hope, but the years of longing and hurt had left scars that wouldn’t heal overnight.
Finally, he exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “If we’re doing this, Cait… I need all of you. No half-measures. No turning back.”
She nodded, her hand slipping into his and squeezing tightly. “I’m all in, Sam. I promise.”
Their lips met again, slowly this time, letting everything that just happened soak in. God, she missed kissing him like that.
Sam’s lips trailed down her neck, his breath hot against her skin. Caitríona tilted her head back, her fingers tangling in his hair, tugging
with the kind of desperation that made his pulse race. This wasn’t a soft reunion—it was years of frustration, longing, and buried feelings exploding into something they couldn’t contain.
“Cait…” he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed her back against the wall.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute.
His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer, his body taut with restraint he no longer wanted to hold. Their movements were hurried, as though time itself were against them, each touch igniting a spark that threatened to consume them both.
She tugged at his shirt, her fingers fumbling in their haste. “Why do you always wear so many bloody layers?” she muttered, earning a low chuckle from him even as he helped her pull it over his head.
“Blame Scotland,” he quipped, but the humor faded as soon as their skin met. The heat of her body against his sent a shiver down his spine.
“God, Sam,” she breathed, her voice thick with need.
“Cait,” he groaned, his hands slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, his thumbs brushing the curve of her waist. “You have no idea…”
“I do,” she cut him off, her hands splaying across his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. “I always have.”
Their lips met again, this time slower, but no less intense. He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the bed. They fell together in a tangle of limbs, each touch, each kiss, each whispered name filled with an urgency that spoke of years spent apart.
For a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just them, raw and unguarded, the barriers they’d built around themselves crumbling into nothing.
“This changes everything,” she whispered.
“Maybe,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “But maybe it changes nothing. We’ve always been this… fire we can’t put out.”
Her lips quirked into a sad smile. “And fire burns, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “But it also keeps us alive.”
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Team "In-Over-his-Head"
Series: A Wildcard is Active
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Word Count: 5275
Summery: Mumbo is saddled with wrangling two tiny teammates: a mischievous Grian and a bloodthirsty Skizz. When Skizz runs off by himself to get a kill, Grian is tasked with leading Mumbo on a wild goose chase to keep him distracted. It turns out to be more frustrating for Mumbo than Grian planned.
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“C’mon, Grian! My pal, my buddy, my amigo. Just one hint, just ooone little hint!”
Grian snickered as he ducked around Skizz. “Nope, not telling. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Skizz pouted. “I’m a red name, Grian, I need all the help you can give me.”
That was true, he did. Grian’s choice of ally ship, though he wouldn’t trade them for anyone else, were perhaps not the most invested in self preservation; but the integrity of the game would not be sacrificed just because Skizz and Mumbo gave him puppy eyes.
“And that’s why we ought to plan! Up to the meeting tower, come on.”
Grian grinned with bubbling anticipation as they scaled the bridges up to the precariously placed meeting tower and took their seats.
Mumbo chuckled at him. “You see? You’ve got that grin on your face that I don’t like. It makes me a bit nervous, I’ll be honest.”
He smiled wider. “What? I’m not grinning! I’m perfectly serious and focused on getting your lives back this session.” They would be doing nothing of the sort, he was absolutely certain.
“Right, right. Game faces.” Skizz said, “I was thinking we get a hit on Gem or Joel, or maybe even…” He glanced over his shoulder for anyone who might’ve been listening. “Lizzie’s on the table, too. They’re all on six, it’ll be no skin off their nose, y’know?”
Mumbo scrunched up his nose. “I’m not so sure I want to tangle with Gem. That’s not how I’d like to go down to red, thanks.”
The two of them kept talking, mulling over various methods and targets, but Grian could only focus on the time. Five minutes till. Four. Three. Two.
Skizz poked him in the side of the head. “G? Are you even paying attention, dude? We need all hands on deck here!”
He held up his communicator with a smile. “Just watching the time. Whatever happens, stay in your seat, grab onto something and don’t let go in five… four…”
“Woah, what— okay! Whatever you say!” Skizz grabbed onto the sides of his chair and Mumbo hastily followed.
“Three, two…” The colourful ellipses appeared in his minds eye, “One…”
A Wildcard is Active.
He fastened his communicator back on his hip and leaned back in his chair, watching as Mumbo and Skizz sat frozen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. After a long moment of silence, Skizz hesitantly relaxed and looked around.
“…You messin’ with us, G? ‘Cause nothing’s happening on my end.”
“You’ll see. Just give it a minute.” He pulled two blocks out of his inventory and placed them on either side of his chair for stability and rested his arms on them.
“Alright, well, I’m gonna go back down. Suddenly I don’t feel safe up here.” Skizz turned to walk back across the bridge to the mountain when Grian felt the buzzing in his chest. The first thought in his mind was oh dear, here we go, and the second was that he knew what was about to happen, and if they didn’t act now Skizz was about to be out of the series right then.
He shot upright in his chair but stayed firmly put. “Mumbo! Mumbo grab him, grab him now!”
Mumbo scrambled to snag Skizz by the arm and yank him back to the platform just as the smoke appeared and he crumpled to the ground.
“Woah, G, what’s goin’ on, man!?” Skizz stared wide-eyed at his hands, which were giving off growing streams of purple smoke.
Mumbo wasn’t smoking, and Grian couldn’t help but start laughing even as his own body started to feel like jelly. “Oh Mumbo Jumbulio, you’re about to have a very fun session.”
“Wha— Grian you can’t just—!” Mumbo stammered, trying to hold Skizz upright, “What does that mean!? What’s going on?”
The purple smoke enveloped the platform, and he was out like a light.
-
He was roused again from his brief nap by the sound of Mumbo’s panicked blubbering. He couldn’t quite bring himself to open his eyes right away, breathing deeply through the heavy drowsiness and fading buzzing under his skin. The sleepy feeling in his arms and legs was slowly starting to go away just like it had during the tests, and his body felt much lighter. So far so good, everything’s in order. His wings twitched experimentally, squished slightly by the back of the chair, and soft fledgling feathers tickled the back of his neck. Yep, definitely working.
“Grian, what on earth is this!?” Mumbo borderline squealed, and he finally blinked open his eyes. Mumbo’s face was white with shock and he was doing his best to cradle an equally bleary-looking and tiny Skizz in his arms. He was maybe five? Possibly four.
“You’re so loud…” He complained, “Jus’ gimme a minute to be sleepy.”
Mumbo spluttered. “No! I absolutely will not do that. Explain yourself right now!”
“You didn’t go through that transformation, I don’ wanna hear it.” He said calmly, pushing himself up from where he was slumped in the chair and stretching out his new body.
Skizz was more awake now, looking down at himself, then Mumbo, then Grian and back again, eyes growing as wide as dinner plates the longer he looked. “G, this is…”
“Terrible!” Mumbo exclaimed.
“Dope!” Skizz cheered, “D’you know how many kills I can get like this? I can fit into all sorts of little nooks and crannies, it’s like Sub-One Club all over again! Well, not you, Mumbo.”
“See? That’s the spirit.” Grian said, much to Mumbo’s befuddlement.
“I— You two— So, w-wait, how does this one work exactly?” Mumbo had the funniest look on his face as he tried to wrap his head around it all, and Grian giggled at him. Apparently Mumbo didn’t see the same humour in it as he did.
“Well, have a see!” He chirped, handing him a spyglass. Mumbo carefully let Skizz out of his arms, making an I’m watching you, stay right there gesture like he was a puppy before looking out over the server.
“Oh dear, oh my…” He turned back to them. “Does every team only have one adult? Is that it?”
“Eh, close enough. It’s random, so you’ve got a 50/50 chance of staying the same,” He pointed at Mumbo, “or being kiddy-fied. Skizz got real unlucky.”
Skizz scrunched up his face. “An’ why’s that now?”
“‘Cause you got real small. You can be a bigger kid or super tiny, and you got one of the tiniest.” He said matter-of-factly. Or, as much as he could. Even after doing a bunch of tests he could never get used to how silly his voice sounded in the kid form.
“Well, if I’m one of the tiniest, you gotta be, too!” Skizz pointed out, “You’re like the same as me!”
He was hoping to get away without anyone pointing that out, but alas. He knew from the moment he got his bearings that he had landed somewhere on the smaller end of the scale. He was hoping for bigger, but he could still cause plenty of mischief like this. “Yeah, but I’m just a smidge older, so I’m still better than you.”
“What!? You are not!”
“Am too, I tested it, remember? I’m seven, an’ you’re like five! I’m way bigger.”
“No you’re not.” Mumbo said, having finally at least slightly pulled himself together, and Grian pouted at him. Betrayal. “Mate, you’re six at most, maybe even five. Oh gods, you’re six, at most...” He muttered.
Grian patted him consolingly on the knee. “There there, Mumbo. An’ I’m not five! Avians are jus’ smaller bioj— bio— agh! Bi-o-lo-gi-cally.”
Mumbo dragged his hands down his face. “This is so strange… Right, so does that mean I’m like… Your parent or something? I don’t have to watch after you guys now, do I?”
Grian shrugged and hopped off his chair. “Not if you don’t want to. You’ll just be leaving two kids defenceless and all alone in the world, but I can’t force you to do anything.”
“Hey, I ain’t defenceless!” Skizz said, but Mumbo just shook his head.
“No, Grian’s right. I can’t- You two probably shouldn’t be left alone. Especially not Skizz, I mean— what if you die? I can’t have that on my shoulders.” He looked at them seriously, and Grian had to try his hardest not to snicker. “You know what? I’m gonna be the best darn parent on this server, just you watch. Come along now, it’s not safe up here.” He ushered them back over the bridge, pushing them as far into the safety of the middle as possible.
Skizz groaned. “Nice goin’ G.” He grumbled.
Grian just laughed.
-
“How am I s‘posed to get a kill with you hoverin’ over me?” Skizz complained, “No offence, but I gotta go this one alone.”
Mumbo waved him off, putting plates of toast and bacon down onto a makeshift table. “We can talk about that right after a bit of breakfast, how about that? We’ve got a lot more to think about than I thought this session.”
Grian grimaced at the bacon on his plate. Right. It had been an unfortunate few hours the day he had discovered during testing that indeed all of his biology returned to his child self after the transformation. Which meant regaining the digestive system of a young avian, which meant being unable to properly digest meat. He cringed at the memory of that tummy ache.
“What’s wrong, Grian?” Mumbo asked.
“I can’t eat the bacon ‘cause I’m a small bird now...” He said sadly, “Oh, that’s the worst thing about this whole wildcard.”
“More like the best! Yoink.” Skizz reached over and snatched the bacon off his plate and onto his own.
Mumbo frowned. “Oh. Do you want me to find you something else? Do you like… uh… seeds..?”
The question was asked so hesitantly yet so genuinely that Grian had to pause for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles.
“L-Look, I don’t know, okay!?”
“Ha ha ha— seeds! Seeds, Skizz! Hee-hee-hee!” It took him a solid minute to calm down, with the mental image of shoving a handful of straight wheat seeds into his mouth causing him to break down again every time he managed to get a grip.
Mumbo’s face was as red as an apple. “Yes, yes, I get it, no seeds. It’s really not that funny, is it?”
He wiped a tear from his eye and finally took a bite of his toast when he was sure he wouldn’t choke. “It really is… I’m just a veg-e-tar-ian, Mumbo, I’m not eating straight seeds.”
“Alright then, I’ll see if we have something else you can eat. You’re not going to be full on just toast.” He got up and began rooting around through their chests. Grian watched, thoroughly enjoying himself.
“He became a mum so fast, didn’t he?”
Skizz rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Listen, G,” He dropped to a whisper and Grian’s ears perked up. Whispers were the universal language of scheming. “I gotta get a kill and Mumbo’s never gonna let me go on my own. I need you to do something for me.”
“I’m listening…”
“I need you to keep ‘im distracted for me. Lead ‘im on a wild goose chase when he comes lookin’ for me, and don’t tell him where I’m goin’, got it?”
And oh boy did he like the sound of that idea. He looked over at Mumbo, who was still buried inside their chest monster, and nodded. “Now’s your chance to escape! Go, I won’t say a word.”
“You’re the best, G. I’ll be back with a green name.” Skizz hopped down from his chair and slunk away, making a shh gesture just before ducking out of sight and breaking into a sprint. Grian smirked to himself.
Mumbo returned to the table and Grian jolted back into a ‘I wasn’t doing anything suspicious’ pose. “So we didn’t have much. I’ve got you some carrots and glow berries, but— wait, where’s Skizz?”
Grian plucked the bundle of glowberries from Mumbo’s hand and popped one into his mouth.
“Grian? Where did Skizz go?”
He shrugged. It was technically the truth, he didn’t know where Skizz was planning to go.
Mumbo made an exasperated noise and ran his hand through his hair. “Already? I’ve lost one already! Grian, you must’ve seen which way he went. It’s not safe for him out there!”
“Mm, he went tha’ way, towards the Tuff Guys.” He lied through a mouthful of berries. He forgot how good these tasted.
“Alright, well, you can eat these on the way. We’ve got to find him quickly, before he does something too rash. Oh who am I kidding? I’m sure he already has! Come on, up, up.”
“Can’t I just finish my breakfast?”
“Nope. Let’s go, show me exactly where he’s gone.”
-
Mumbo frowned. “And you’re absolutely certain he went this way?”
“Mhm, definitely!”
Now, call him crazy, but Mumbo got the distinct feeling that Grian was perhaps lying to him. For being so certain that Skizz had run off to the Tuff Guys not long ago, their base was very obviously deserted. He knew this because Grian had insisted on searching the entire place from top to bottom, snooping behind every chest and scouring every nook and cranny that a five year old could possibly be hiding in. Now they were at Ren and Martyn’s base after Grian swore up and down that he saw a “very Skizz-shaped blob” running through the forest nearby.
“Ren, Martyn! Are you home?” Grian called.
He had to admit, it was rather endearing to see Grian hopping about on his toes to get some height on the wall Mumbo was able to peer over with ease. Inside the walls he watched Ren haul Martyn up by the scruff of his shirt and away from where he had presumably been trying wrestling with their wolves just seconds before. As quickly as things had gone sideways with his adventure into parenthood, Mumbo supposed there were some small graces to be thankful for. Like not being forced to babysit Martyn.
“Ah, is that a little Grian I hear?” Ren said, “Hey, stop wiggling you— Come on in, dude!”
“Mumbo’s here, too!” Grian spun around and reached his arms up, making grabby hands at the air. “Gimme a boost.”
Mumbo raised an eyebrow at him. He was most definitely capable of climbing up himself, but what could it hurt to humour him? “Uh huh. Is that we ask now?”
“Please.”
“Fine.”
Grian’s little wings flapped as he hoisted him up and onto the wall, and Mumbo climbed over after him.
Ren flipped Martyn around so he was holding him like a bundle of planks under one arm and greeted them with a smile and a wave. “Good morning, Mumbo! What brings you two to our humble abode? I see you’re missing one, where did ol’ Skizzleman run off to?”
Mumbo watched as Martyn wriggled around uselessly in Ren’s grip. “Well, you see, that’s actually why we’re here. Skizz has run off by himself and we’re desperately trying to find him before he gets himself killed. Grian said he may have come by here, have you seen him?”
“Oh, I see. You’ve got a runaway, have you? Hey-!” Martyn started kicking, trying to clip Ren’s back with his shoes. “Fine, fine! You can go down. Go play with Grian or something, just no more wolf-wrestling!”
Martyn turned to stick his tongue out at them as he and Grian ran off to their towers.
Ren sighed. “He really is a handful.”
Mumbo couldn’t agree more. “Don’t I know it. It’s not even been half a day!”
“So, like I was saying, I don’t think we’ve seen Skizzly around here. I could’ve missed him though, I’ve been trying to wrangle Martyn for the past hour. He’s just got so much energy.”
He chuckled. “I did see that. Was that what the wolf-wrestling was about?”
“I told him to find something to burn off some stink and apparently that translated into ‘go fight the dogs, Martyn!’. I swear, I don’t know if it’s a kid thing or just a Martyn thing.”
“Could be both, to be fair.”
Their chit chat was interrupted by a high-pitched whoop! from above their heads, and Mumbo watched in horror as Grian, lead tied around his waist, jumped from the balcony of Martyn’s sky base and dangled mid-air. Martyn sat crouched over the ledge, tying the other end of the rope to a fencepost in as many knots as possible with the most devious grin he had ever seen on a child.
Ren yelped. “Martyn!”
Mumbo felt faint. “Grian!”
Grian cheered as he swung himself back and forth, flapping his wings. “Look Mumbo, I’m flying! Wheeee!”
“Oh my gods, Grian, get down from there!” He almost couldn’t watch. At any moment the lead could slip off his tiny body or the rope would snap and Grian would plummet to his death.
“I can’t hear youuuu!”
“Martyn Littlewood you let Grian down from there this instant!” Ren shouted. Martyn looked conflicted for a moment, but Grian put a stop to that quickly.
“Never surr-en-der, Martyn! He’s not the boss of us!”
“Oh, we’ll see about that. I’m coming up there!” Ren marched over and began climbing the ladder, and then everyone was panicking.
“Uh, Grian? He might be the boss of us, what do I do!?” Martyn fretted. Where could Mumbo get some of those intimidation skills?
Grian flailed precariously and Mumbo flinched. “Uh— uh— I dunno! Wait, yes I do! Lemme down! Cut the lead!”
“What!?” Martyn and Mumbo yelled in unison.
“Martyn, don’t you dare!” Mumbo pointed as threateningly as he could from the ground. He couldn’t go up after them in case, admins forbid, Grian took a fall, so he could only watch.
Ren was closing in on them, and right as he got his head up the top of the ladder, Martyn made his decision and cut the rope. Mumbo’s stomach dropped.
“Mumbo, catch me!”
And thank goodness, all of the reflexes Mumbo possessed in his entire body went into throwing down a bucket of water and diving into it to catch Grian just before he hit the ground. His suit was soaked through, his heart was beating like like a hummingbird, and he felt slightly dizzy, but Grian sat safely in his arms, barely a drop of water on him and cheering like he’d just had the time of his life.
“Yeah! Again, Mumbo, again!”
He let out a deep, shaky breath. “No. Never again. We’re leaving.”
Grian flopped in his arms like a bag of sand. “Awwww…”
He looked up the tower, where Ren had a pouting Martyn by the shirt yet again. “Thank you for the information, Ren, but we’ll be on our way now.”
“Alright. Good luck, dude!”
He was certainly going to need it.
From there, every single location Grian led them was turned out to be more chaos than the last. With each tizzy Grian got himself into, each hour of daylight wasted, the more frustrated Mumbo became. He was certain now that Grian was messing with him, leading him on some wild goose chase with no real end in mind. First it was dangling from Martyn’s tower; then it was letting out Gem and Joel’s farm animals where Mumbo not only had to deal with the squabbling of three children, but also put all of the animals back because he was the only one big enough to do so; then it was running off and playing hide-and-seek in a cave and forcing him to come find him; and then he tried to play chicken with the Four G’s explosive-trapped wheat fields. Now it was nearing evening, they had nearly toured half the server, and Skizz was nowhere to be seen. He had been kicked by a horse, shot by a skeleton twice in the caves, listened to tantrums, and nearly had at least three heart attacks. To say he was getting fed up would be an understatement.
And Grian appeared to be none the wiser to Mumbo’s irritation. In fact, he seemed hell-bent on making everything worse. It was obvious the wildcard was affecting Grian’s mind to an extent, but at this point he had to have known better. That was the most infuriating part of it all. He knew.
Grian abruptly stopped walking in front of him and he bumped into him.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going, I’m very fragile, y’know.”
Mumbo clenched his jaw.
“Now that I think about it, I uh… I’m pretty sure I saw Skizz coming this way instead. Maybe BigB’s seen him.“
“And you’re sure? Because Grian, I’m going to be very upset if you’ve been lying to me this whole time and I’ve walked around the server for nothing.”
Grian’s eyes flickered down to his communicator and back, then he flashed a big grin. “Yep!”
So into the dark oak forest they went. Even though it was pointless, Mumbo called out Skizz’s name as they walked to no response.
“Alright, Grian. I don’t know what-“ He turned around and Grian was nowhere to be seen. Again. “Oh for Pete’s sake! Grian, get back here!”
A familiar squeaky voice called back to him.
“Oh no! Zombies! Whatever shall I do!?”
He took a deep breath through his nose and stormed in the direction of Grian’s voice, sword drawn. Only when he found the clearing, there was just Grian, two zombie spawn eggs in his hands.
“Grian, don’t you dare—“
Two zombies were suddenly lunging at him, and while he was able to take them both down without much trouble, one did manage to get a hit on him.
Grian giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world. “I got you!”
He was so distracted that he didn’t see the creeper crawling out of the brush towards him. Mumbo lurched forward and was just barely able to put his shield up in time to protect them from the blast. Grian stared at the creeper hole for a moment, eyes wide, and chuckled nervously.
“Heh, thanks for the save...”
Mumbo’s grip clenched around his shield. “Right, that’s enough of this forest.” He took Grian by the arm and half-dragged him back out into the open. Now, on top of everything, he was covered in dirt from head to toe.
Grian ruffled his feathers and brushed off the few specks of dirt he managed to get on him. “W-Well, Skizz clearly wasn’t in there. I think next—“
“No! No more, enough!”
Grian froze.
“What you don’t seem to understand is that I actually care about the wellbeing of this team! I’ve been trying to find Skizz to keep him safe, and instead I’ve been trying to save you from trying to kill yourself on purpose all day! Wasn’t it your idea in the first place for me to look after you!? What is it you want from me here, exactly?”
And he got nothing. Grian didn’t have a single thing to say for himself.
“Forget it. We’re going home. Hopefully Skizz has found his way back, because I’m done for today. Let’s go.”
-
Grian’s eyes were glued to his shoes as they walked silently through the field.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be causing harmless trouble and Mumbo was meant to be pulling his hair out like they always did, but now Mumbo was angry at him. Genuinely angry. The thought hurt more than it should have, and tears were burning in his eyes against his will. He tried to remind himself that it was just the wildcard talking. He wasn’t actually meant to be so upset about all this, but he was. He didn’t want Mumbo to be angry with him, he was just trying to have fun. He was just trying to help Skizz, but now he’d made Mumbo hate him.
He glanced up hesitantly. Mumbo’s back was to him, but he could still tell how angry he was. He could hear the slow, forced breaths he was taking, he could see the way his hands were clenched around his sword and shield, he could feel it.
Mumbo’s angry with you. He’s so angry with you. Why didn’t you stop? Would Skizz have been mad at you if you stopped? Was someone going to be mad at you no matter what you did?
The more he thought, the harder it became to keep the tears in. His throat ached, his eyes hurt, and his nose was getting plugged. He didn’t want to sniffle in case Mumbo heard him, but it was getting hard to breathe.
Finally, without him really noticing when, they made it home.
“I’m going to bed early tonight.” Mumbo said, not turning around, “Keep out of trouble, alright? If Skizz comes back… I don’t know, at this point. Tell him to go to bed.”
And he was about to leave. He was about to go to bed and spare Grian from the humiliation of crying in front of him, but then the pressure grew too much, and his throat hurt too badly, and he really couldn’t breathe. He sniffled, and Mumbo turned around.
“Grian? Are you… crying?”
No, go to bed please, please go away. “N-No. It’s jus’ the wildcard acting up, I’m not-“ His voice broke. “I-I’m not—“
Mumbo frowned, concerned because of course he was. “Why are you crying?”
There wasn’t a reason, not really. He’d gotten yelled at, rightfully so, and now his stupid brain was making him cry. But when he tried to say that, nothing came out. Everything he was feeling felt like it had been multiplied by a hundred, suffocating reasonable Adult Grian who would have just apologized and moved along.
He hiccuped and scrubbed at his eyes as hard as he could with his sleeves like he might be able to make Mumbo un-see. Go away tears, go away. “Thi-is is so st—stupid, m’sorry.”
Mumbo knelt down in front of him. He looked guilty, like he was the onewho had to be sorry for today. “Is it… because I snapped at you?”
He couldn’t bring himself to nod, but his silence gave it away. Tears finally began to slip down his cheeks and shame joined the cloud of emotions swirling around in his head.He knew needed to calm down, apologize properly, his breath was too hiccup-y and his body felt like he was going to explode.
“Would, maybe…” Mumbo opened his arms, “Would a hug help?”
He swallowed. It would. It would help so much, but he didn’t move. Mumbo shouldn’t be comforting him when he was the one who was bad all day. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“Alright, well, my arms are getting tired now, so I’m just going to hug you, and you push me off if that’s not cool. How about that?” Mumbo wrapped his arms around him, and like a switch flipped Grian flung his arms around his neck, squeezing tight.
“M’sorry, m’really s-so—rry, I’m being dumb.”
“I don’t think you’re being dumb. You’re a kid— well, sort of, and being yelled at would freak everyone out. Even me, and I’m not in the body of a child.” He chuckled lightly, and why did Mumbo have to be so good at making him feel better? That wasn’t fair! He didn’t deserve it at all, he didn’t—
“What was that, Grian?”
“I-I said I don’ d-deserve this!” He cried, “I was bei-ng bad a-all day and now you’re tryin’ to make me feel better! T-That’s not how it’s s’posed to work! You’re s’posed to be mad at me!”
Was this a tantrum? Oh gods. He was trying to apologize and he was only making it worse.
Mumbo was quiet for a long moment, thinking probably. About what? How silly Grian was being? Or worse, about how he was pretending not to be angry for his sake?
“How about this,” He finally said, “You let me worry about what I should and shouldn’t be mad about, hm? And I’ve worried on it, and I say that I’m not angry anymore.”
No. That wasn’t what he wanted. Sure, a small part of him was cheering with joy that Mumbo wasn’t angry with him anymore, but the other part only got more upset. “O-Only ‘cause I’m crying…” He mumbled bitterly.
“Hey now, you’re not listening to me. I said I’m not angry anymore, I didn’t say why, did I?”
And no, Grian supposed he didn’t. He drew in his first proper breath in a while. “Then why aren’t you? ‘Cause you should be.���
Mumbo slowly eased them out of the hug and childishly, Grian wanted it back. “Well, because I’ve had time to calm down and think about it, just like you have.” Mumbo took a big deep breath, and motioned for him to do one too. “See? I also figured there was probably a reason you were acting that way. Am I right?”
Grian nodded. He supposed now was a good a time as any to give up the ghost. “Uhm… This morning, S-Skizz asked me to keep you busy s-so he could go get a kill in secret.” He admitted, “It wasn’t s’posed to go all day, but he never got a kill so I just kept going. I’m really sowwy, Mumbo.”
Wait.
Mumbo snorted, and Grian’s cheeks just about burst into flames. “Sorry! I meant sorry!” He hid his face in his hands, “Oh my gosh I hate this. Whose idea was this!?”
“Yours, mate.” Mumbo chuckled, standing and ruffling his hair. “Now come on, I wasn’t kidding about being knackered. It’s bedtime, for both of us.”
On cue, the ten minutes of crying finally settled over him, and he yawned. “Fine by me.”
Instinctively he started following Mumbo up to the stair landing where he kept his bed, and the fact that he had his own across the chasm completely skipped his mind.
…Until Mumbo pointed it out.
“Oh, coming to bed with me, are we?”
Goodness gracious what was wrong with him? “R-Right! Sorry, heh, I’ll—“
“You can sleep here if you want. I’d say there’s enough room for two on this bed, with how tiny you are.”
“Well now, that’s just disre— dis- oh forget it. Mean.”
“Oh I know, I’m so cruel to you, Grian. Come on, hop up.” He held up the covers for Grian to climb underneath.
It was incredibly undignified, just how much he had to kick his feet and flap his wings to haul himself up onto the mattress, but he made it. He yawned again. Definitely time for bed.
Mumbo tucked them in soundly, and after one last quick check for mobs, laid down for the night.
“Goodnight, Grian.”
“G’night, Mumbo.”
-
Grian woke up what felt like only minutes later to the bed dipping. It was pitch black out, but the soft glow of Skizz’s halo lit up his face as he crawled up beside them. His eyes were still red.
“Mm... Skizz?”
“Hey G-man. Thanks for keepin’ Mumbo off my tail today. How’d it go?”
“All that, and you didn’t even get a kill?” He mumbled blearily, mostly to himself.
“Hey, rude. But listen, I have a plan, I just need some more time. D’ya think you can cover for me tomorr—“
Grian blinked at him once, twice, then rolled over and buried himself back under the blankets. “No way. Never again, Skizz. Never again.”
#agere blog#sfw age regression#sfw agere#age regression#fandom agere#fanfic#traffic agere#traffic smp#trafficblr#traffic series#life series#wild life smp#wild life#grian#mumbo jumbo#skizzleman#hurt/comfort#literal age regression
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that link where Gordon is a sweetheart to the staff is a godsend !
i just about died when he went “come here” with his hand tihi 🤭
“come here, my darling” “excuse me, sweetheart” “hello, darling” imagine if i just exploded and died
and if he called me over with a hand gesture? simple but effective in killing me dead! 🤪
#i know I KNOW it’s the mf bare minimum but it’s hiiiim#he’s so skilled and proficient and competent and he can give an orderrrrr#and as someone who’s worked in a kitchen to have someone that just knows what they want but will also put their neck out to protect you?#no choice but to give back shots in the walk in- WHO SAID THAT?
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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)
✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰
“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”
“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.
“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
“Oh, well that’s very–“
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.
“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”
As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”
“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
“What did you say your last name is?”
You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.
“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”
“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”
“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”
“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”
“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.
“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.
“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.
“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”
“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.
“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen me–"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
a/n: LMK what you think 🥰
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#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#bts imagine#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts au#fic:whatlovefeelslike#kookslastbutton
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hi! i loved your hotch x shy!bau! reader fic! would you ever make a second part? or like a continuation of shy!reader and hotch moments? ty! <33
yes yes i wanna keep writing for them so if you guys have anything in specific you want to see, lmk!!
hotch asks shy!bau!reader out for their first date
You stare at the papers in front of you, trying your best to narrow down the geological profile with Reid; trying harder to not let your thoughts wander and distract you. It's hard - Hotch offered to go with you to the new Korean BBQ place before JJ called in the new case. You keep waiting to hear him extend the same offer to the others - specifically Rossi who never turns away an offer to try out a new restaurant or Morgan who is always down to go out with the team.
Instead, he's talking quietly with JJ about Jack's new teacher, unable to do any more work on the case until the jet touches down.
"Okay, we can cross out this county," Spencer says, interrupting your thoughts and reaching across you to mark through a small section. Eyes flicking across the paper, you furrow your brows, confused by the choice.
"Why?" You ask, hand moving to stop his pen strokes before you double-think and let it hit the tabletop.
"Because it's too easy for him to hit if he wanted to. It's been too long, he must have no interest in the area."
"It's low income, exactly his MO. He might hit it later, once he realizes..."
"No," Spencer says, shaking his head before you can finish your sentence. He finishes blacking out the area with his Sharpie and caps the pen, not looking over at you. "That wouldn't make any sense."
Tounge caught by your nerves, you slowly nod your head instead, deciding to give the topic up for now. The next wall the team hits, though, you're determined to readdress the area.
Deciding you need a moment to yourself, you excuse yourself quietly and stand to move to the back of the jet. You stretch your arms above your head, rolling your head back to feel the stretch in your shoulders.
"What county?" Hotch asks, reaching a hand out to intercept your path as you pass him.
"Sorry?" You ask, breath catching on the word as his hand brushes your arm and loops loosely around your wrist. Next to him, JJ has fallen asleep against the window. You feel bad for her for a moment, remembering her talking about Henry's recent sleep regression.
"The county you mentioned to Reid - which one was it?"
"Morris," you say instinctively, still hyper-focused on his hand. His thumb swipes against your wrist bone twice before he lets you go, motioning for you to continue walking.
You think he's let it go and quickly move down the aisle to one of the couches at the back of the jet. When you settle down, though, intent on opening your own map, Hotch sits next to you and tilts his head so you can hear each other if you were to talk softly.
"What was your original thought about it?"
You're struggling to think, distracted by his proximity and low voice. The soft tones reach your belly, causing it to flip, The feeling is pleasant, even if it's entirely inappropriate.
"Sorry?" You say again, meeting his eye before quickly looking away to fumble with the map. Hands shaking, you manage to open it to the right state.
"There's no need to be sorry," Hotch says, voice firm but gentle. He reaches out and you think he's going to grab your wrist again but he instead taps a finger once against Morris County. "Your idea about the county - what was your original thought before Reid shot you down?"
"Oh. It's okay, Reid already said it doesn't make sense." You notice that Hotch opens his mouth to interject before you can finish and your sentence falters at the end. Still, his eyes watch you to make sure you're finished before he answers.
"I still want to hear what you had to say."
You explain your theory to him, then, talking quickly at first, stumbling over your words, before slowing down once you realize he's going to listen to everything you have to say. He nods, agreeing with your theory.
"I'll keep it in mind and give the information to Garcia. Thank you," he says, sincere, eyes locked on yours.
"You're welcome." You wait for him to get up now that you have nothing new to say about the case. While you were talking, you mentioned a few thoughts you had about the preliminary profile the team started on that you couldn't seem to find the space to add during the group conversation.
Instead, he settles further into the seat next to you, reading the map over your shoulder.
Something about his casual posture and the lack of his suit jacket fills you with enough confidence to ask, "Why haven't you invited anyone else to the barbeque place?"
He watches you for a minute, not replying as his eyes scan your face and posture. You've never been the best at body language when it comes to people you know, always a little too nervous to scan them the same way you might an unsub, but you know that Hotch is taking in any and all clues your body can give him before he answers. He seems to roll the words on his tongue, testing them out, before he answers.
You've never been the best at reading the body language of the people you know personally, but you still are considered an expert at it in interrogations, often requested to watch from behind the glass. That's all to say, Hotch seems nervous as he says, "I was hoping it could be us two unless you would prefer the others to be there."
The air leaves your chest and you feel unsteady and unbalanced even though you're sitting. Before you can overthink it, you're shaking your head no.
Hotch's face falls, a slight thing you would certainly notice if your eyes weren't glued to his face to ensure this wasn't some kind of sick joke.
"No, I want it to be just us," you say, quick before he can get the wrong impression.
The usual confidence Hotch carries reinflates in him quickly. He smiles, a slight tug at the corner of his lip that you again only catch because you're watching him so closely.
"Good," he says.
You two sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, first just watching each other, and then, when you get embarrassed, comparing your case files and small map.
"To be clear," he says when Rossi and Spencer have started up a quiet conversation about chess - when his soft tones would be nearly impossible to be understood by anyone but yourself - "I mean as a date. If you would like."
Words lost, you simply nod, eyes wide and smile wider on your face. You think you can hear him chuckle softly but your face is too hot to look up and check.
#bubbs.writes#bubbs.asks#criminal minds#cm#x reader#fluff#criminal minds x reader#hotch x reader#hotchner x reader#hotch#hotchner#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#hotch fluff#hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner fluff#criminal minds fluff#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x shy!bau!reader#shy!bau!reader#shy!reader#fem!reader
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Best Day Ever - Franco Colapinto x Reader
Summary: Oscar's win and Franco's first points have to be celebrated. With her best friend Lando playing matchmaker and the tension between Y/N and Franco simmering, the night promises to be anything but ordinary. Sparks fly on the dance floor, but is Y/N ready to admit what’s really going on?
Warnings: Questionable fashion choices from Charles, Jealous Franco
A N - okay so I never write but I couldn't help myself. another one lol. I adore this man, I really hope he'll get a seat next year:)
_______________________
I slipped into Lando’s hotel room, dodging the chaos of clothes strewn everywhere and the blast of upbeat music. As expected, the room was a disaster—a tornado of outfits scattered around, and Lando stood in front of the mirror with two shirts, looking deeply conflicted.
“You’re taking this way too seriously,” I teased, dropping my bag on the bed and watching him as he inspected each shirt like it was a life-or-death decision.
Lando turned, giving me a dramatic sigh. “You don’t get it, darling. As tonight’s DJ, I need to look the part. No one’s gonna take me seriously behind the decks if I look like shit.”
I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yes, because that’s exactly why people come to the club... for your shirt.”
He dramatically held up the two options for me to judge. “So? Bright white to make my tan pop? Or black for mysterious, sexy DJ vibes?”
I chuckled, shaking my head as I pulled out my dress. “The real question is, how long until you spill something on it?” I shot back with a grin.
Lando grinned right back at me, tossing the white shirt aside. “Good point. But now, your turn. What are we working with tonight, Y/N?”
I unzipped my bag and pulled out the stunning red dress I’d been waiting to wear. It was the kind of dress that would turn heads the second I walked into the club. Lando’s eyes widened dramatically when he saw it.
“Well, well, well,” he drawled, stepping closer to inspect the dress as if it were a priceless artifact. “What’s the occasion? Trying to murder Franco tonight or what? Because if I were him, I’d be dead on the spot.”
Rolling my eyes, I ignored the blush creeping up my cheeks. “It’s not for him. I just like looking good. Is that a crime?”
“Oh no, not at all,” Lando said, smirking. “But let’s be frank. Or should I say ‘frank-o’? Get it?”
I rolled my eyes again, groaning at his pun. Classic Lando.
Lando sighed dramatically at my lack of enthusiasm but pressed on. “Anyway, you’ve been on Franco’s mind all weekend. The way he’s been sneaking glances at you? Totally adorable.”
I slipped behind the dressing screen to change. “Franco sneaks glances at every girl. It’s his thing.”
“Ah, but here’s the kicker,” Lando leaned against the screen like he was sharing the world’s best-kept secret. “You’re the only one who acts like you don’t care. He finds it irresistible.”
I emerged from behind the screen, giving Lando a look. “I’m not here for his ego trip. I’m here to celebrate Oscar’s win. Now help me zip up, please.”
Lando smirked, walking over to help with the zipper. His fingers brushed lightly against my back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure. That’s why you wore that dress. Totally not because of Franco.”
“Do you ever shut up?” I teased, adjusting the straps of my dress as I looked in the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was more confident than I felt. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, making me feel bold despite the nerves bubbling in my chest.
Lando chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his black shirt and pulled it over his head. “Just trying to help. You’ve got something going on with Franco, and I—your devilishly handsome sidekick—am here to make sure it happens.”
“There’s nothing going on,” I insisted, straightening the hem of my dress. “It’s just banter.”
Lando gave me a playful wink. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But tonight, when he sees you in that dress, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Man’s going to be speechless.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re in denial,” he shot back. “Now, let’s get going. The club’s not going to know what hit it.”
I grabbed my purse, shaking my head with a smile as we headed for the door. No matter how much Lando teased, there was something about his playful energy that always put me at ease. He knew how to turn any situation into a joke, and even if I wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, the thought of Franco seeing me tonight had me feeling a little more excited than I should’ve been.
“Ready to knock ‘em dead?” Lando asked as we reached the elevator.
I smirked. “Let’s dance, baby.”
Lando grinned, pressing the button for the lobby.
.
The second we stepped into the club, I could feel the shift in energy. The bass was pounding through the floor, neon lights flickering in rhythm with the music, and a sea of people already swaying to the beat. It was one of those nights where you could tell things were only going to get wilder as the hours passed.
Lando, naturally, was beaming as he led us toward our reserved table, his usual confidence on full display. “This is going to be legendary,” he grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “You ready to make some memories?”
I smirked, adjusting the strap of my dress. “If by memories, you mean watching you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor, then absolutely.”
Lando wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “Just wait until I start playing some tracks. You won’t know what hit you.”
As we approached the table, George was already making himself comfortable, adjusting his collar like the proper gentleman he always tried to be, while Alex slid in beside him, looking equally ready to unwind after the weekend.
“This place,” George mused, his eyes scanning the scene, “positively buzzes. I might even have to loosen a few buttons tonight, fellas.”
Alex laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh no, George Russell, loosing up? What is the world coming to?”
Before George could respond with one of his comebacks, the door to the club swung open, and in walked Max, Daniel, and Charles—each of them making an entrance like they owned the place. Max, already sipping on a gin tonic, had that relaxed grin he only ever showed when he was off-track, while Daniel was bouncing with energy as usual, ready to bring chaos. Charles, however, had topped them all, not only wearing his patchwork pants, but also sporting a pair of ridiculous neon pink sunglasses that instantly made me burst out laughing.
Lando, seeing Charles in all his glory, was quick to point out the obvious. “Alright, who let Charles dress himself? Where is Alexandra when we need her?”
Charles just grinned, pushing the sunglasses further up his nose. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Norris.”
Daniel, never one to miss a beat, clapped me on the back as he slid into the booth next to me. “Looking hot tonight, Y/N. I’m pretty sure jaws will drop.”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to blush. “It’s just a dress, Daniel. Let’s focus on the real star of the night—Oscar.”
Oscar, ever the quiet one, gave me a sheepish smile from across the table. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”
“Oh, no, no, no,” Lando interjected, throwing an arm around Oscar. “You’re the man of the hour! We’re celebrating you tonight, mate. And Franco when he shows up of course.”
Max, already in full party mode, flagged down a waiter with a confident wave. “Gin tonics all around—and something stronger for Oscar. What do you say?”
Oscar chuckled awkwardly as Daniel threw an arm around his shoulders, laughing. “Yeah, mate. Time to get wild.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as Max and Daniel continued to heap praise on Oscar, who was clearly not loving being the center of attention.
“He needs more than one drink for that,” I said, leaning back with a grin. “Oscar’s more the ‘quiet observer’ type.”
“That’s exactly what makes it more fun,” Lando added, his grin widening. “He’s like a ticking time bomb. You never know when he’s going to blow.”
Just then, the drinks arrived. Daniel raised his glass, holding it high for the group. “To my favorite fellow Aussie,” he declared, causing Oscar to smile awkwardly as Daniel continued, “And to a night we’re definitely not going to remember.”
“Cheers!” we all echoed, clinking glasses.
Max wasted no time, clapping Oscar on the back. “No sitting tonight, mate. Come on, time to dance.”
Oscar looked wide-eyed for a moment before Max and Daniel each grabbed one of his arms, dragging him onto the dance floor. He glanced back at us with a look that screamed help me.
I laughed as I watched Oscar get pulled into the chaos. “Well, there goes Oscar.”
Lando grinned, leaning in closer. “You know what Oscar needs to loosen up?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh no, not this again...”
“Tequila.” Lando’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Come on, we’ve got shots to retrieve.”
Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar, dodging people along the way. It was like Lando had some sort of radar for causing trouble, and tonight, tequila was at the center of his plans.
We reached the bar, and with a few charming words from Lando, the bartender handed over a full tray of tequila shots.
“Think this is enough?” I asked, eyeing the tray suspiciously.
Lando gave me a mock-serious look. “Not even close.”
As we carried the tray back to the table, I couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of our friends still tearing up the dance floor. Max and Daniel were already locked in some sort of ridiculous dance battle, while Charles, still sporting his horrible sunglasses, was swaying with his gin tonic in hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Oscar’s going to die out there,” I chuckled, shaking my head.
“Not if the tequila kicks in first,” Lando smirked, placing the tray down on the table.
Just as we settled back at the booth, the door to the club swung open once more, and in walked Carlos and Franco. Carlos, as always, looked effortlessly sexy, his dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to make every girl in the club swoon. But Franco? My heart skipped a beat when I saw him—his eyes immediately locking onto mine with that intense, playful glint that I was starting to recognize all too well.
He looked different tonight—glowing from the inside out, like the weight of proving himself had finally been lifted. The victory of his first points in F1 suited him. His confidence was always there, but now it had this newfound depth that made it impossible not to notice him.
Lando, ever the instigator, nudged me under the table, trying to hide his grin. “Look at your man, glowing,” he whispered with an exaggerated wink.
“Shut it,” I muttered, though my pulse had quickened at the sight of Franco.
As they made their way over, the group welcomed them with cheers and raised glasses. Carlos slid into the booth beside George, while Franco took the seat across from me, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re late,” I teased, lifting my shot glass in his direction.
Franco grinned, his gaze flickering from the glass to my dress and back to my eyes. “Fashionably late, of course. You know how it is.”
“Always with an excuse,” I shot back, though I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.
Franco leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough for me to hear. “Maybe I just wanted to make an entrance. Catch someone’s attention.”
Under the table, Lando kicked me again, even more subtly this time, though his grin was anything but subtle. I shot him a look, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing.
“You’re not fooling anyone,” I said, keeping my tone light as I shook my head at Franco. “Nice try, though.”
Franco chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”
Lando’s face lit up, his grin widening as he picked up one of the tequila shots. “Before we do anything else, we need to make a toast.”
Alex, George, and I exchanged glances as Lando raised his shot glass high, his voice carrying over the thumping music. “To Franco, for getting his first F1 points!” he declared, eyes twinkling with excitement. “He’s officially no longer just a pretty face—he can drive, too!”
Everyone laughed, Franco shaking his head with a mock roll of his eyes, but there was no denying the pride shining in his green eyes. He raised his glass, meeting Lando’s playful grin. “Thanks, mate,” he said with a smirk, his voice carrying that familiar flirty edge as he glanced over at me. “It’s about time I caught up.”
“To Franco!” Lando repeated, and the group joined in the chorus, clinking glasses before throwing back the shots.
The tequila burned, but it wasn’t just the alcohol that made my pulse race—it was the way Franco’s eyes lingered on me
“So,” Franco began, his voice low and smooth, “do you always look this good when you go out? Or is this just for me?”
I raised an eyebrow, trying my best not to smile. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Lando too much. His cockiness is rubbing off.”
Franco chuckled softly, his eyes still fixed on mine. “Maybe. But I’m serious. You look… incredible.”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t quite hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You say that to every girl, Franco.”
His grin widened, leaning in just enough to make my heart race. “Not like this. And not to every girl.”
It was the way he said it—calm, confident, and undeniably sincere—that made me falter. There was no denying the effect his words had on me, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.
“Nice try,” I said, taking a sip of my drink, determined to stay unbothered. “But I’m not falling for it.”
He leaned back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Who said I was trying anything? I’m just telling the truth.”
Carlos was still engrossed in conversation with Lando, leaving me to handle Franco on my own. Lando, however, didn’t miss the exchange, and I felt a not-so-subtle nudge from him under the table. “Told you,” he whispered, barely hiding his grin. “He’s got it bad.”
I shot Lando a look but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through me. Franco wasn’t making this easy.
“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation away from me.
Franco’s smile turned playful, his eyes never leaving mine. “Dance, maybe. If you’re up for it.”
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “In your dreams, maybe.”
“Trust me, cariño,” Franco said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine, “I’ve had plenty of those already.”
I swallowed, trying to keep my composure. Franco’s flirty nature wasn’t new, but tonight, it felt different—more direct, more intentional. And the Spanish- oh my days.
Before things could escalate further, I decided to save myself. I stood abruptly, grabbing Lando’s arm. “I need to dance,” I announced, pulling him up with me. “Come on, Norris. Let’s go.”
Lando blinked in surprise but quickly recovered, flashing Franco a smug grin. “Later, Colapinto,” he called as I dragged him toward the dance floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back soon.”
Grabbing Lando’s arm, I dragged him out of the booth and into the center of the dance floor, determined to drown out the tension with music and laughter.
“Whoa, easy there!” Lando exclaimed with a grin as I pulled him into the mass of bodies. The bass was so strong I could feel it reverberate through the floor and into my chest. Neon lights flickered over the crowd, casting everyone in shades of blue, purple, and red.
“I need to dance!” I shouted over the music, spinning him around as the beat dropped. “Get your head in the game, Norris!”
Lando, always ready for a bit of fun, didn’t miss a beat. “You’re lucky I’m the best dance partner you could ask for!” he laughed, immediately pulling me into a ridiculous salsa move that made me burst into giggles. His over-the-top style was exactly what I needed to shake off Franco’s intense gaze.
We danced together in sync for a while, Lando’s antics drawing more laughter from me than I’d had all night. He was twirling, dipping, and making exaggerated poses with every beat, reminding me how effortlessly fun it could be to just let go.
“You’re a nightmare,” I teased, dodging one of his particularly dramatic moves as he spun me around.
“And you’re loving every second of it!” Lando grinned, completely unbothered by how ridiculous he looked.
For a few blissful minutes, I allowed myself to get lost in the music. The lights, the crowd, and Lando’s contagious energy made everything else fade into the background. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
Franco.
Even with the mass of people between us, I could feel his eyes on me. I stole a glance toward the bar and, sure enough, there he was, standing with Carlos, Alex, and George, his eyes fixed on me like a magnet. The intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
“Stop staring,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head to push the thought away. But even as I laughed it off, I couldn’t deny the way my heart sped up when I caught Franco watching.
Lando twirled me again, pulling me close to shout over the music. “Franco hasn’t stopped looking at you all night!”
I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. “That’s just Franco being Franco. He’s like that with everyone.”
“Uh-huh, right.” Lando shot me a knowing grin. “Just with everyone? Come on, Y/N, you’re not fooling me.”
I groaned, pulling away slightly as we continued to dance. “Can we not talk about him right now? I’m trying to enjoy myself.”
“Sure, sure,” Lando laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “But you know he’s watching, right? Might as well give him a show.”
Before I could respond, Lando grabbed my hands and twirled me into a dramatic dip, making me squeal with laughter. It was ridiculous and playful, exactly the distraction I needed. But even as I danced, I couldn’t fully shake the sensation of Franco’s gaze burning into me.
Eventually, the heat of the dance floor got to me, and I pulled Lando off to the side, fanning myself as we made our way to the bar. “I need a drink,” I muttered, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead.
“Good call,” Lando agreed, still grinning like a madman. “But I’ve got a better idea—why don’t you get some fresh air. You look like you’re about to combust.”
I nodded, following him toward the exit. The night breeze hit me like a wave of relief, cool and refreshing against my flushed skin. I let out a long breath, leaning against the side of the building as I tried to shake off the lingering tension.
Just as I was starting to feel a bit more grounded, Oscar appeared from the shadows, looking surprisingly calm despite the chaos happening inside.
“Oscar?” I blinked, surprised to see him outside. “What are you doing out here?”
Oscar, ever the quiet observer, gave a small shrug, his usual smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Hiding of course. Max and Daniel are going way too hard in there.”
I chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I don’t blame you. It’s getting a bit crazy. I think I just saw Max crowdsurfing with Charles’s glasses on.”
We stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the music still thumping faintly in the background. I leaned against the wall, tilting my head back to take in the stars above. It felt good to breathe, to have a moment of peace before heading back into the chaos.
But Oscar, always perceptive, wasn’t one to let things slide. “You alright?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with meaning.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, just… trying to clear my head.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Franco, would it?”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. “What? No. Why would it?”
Oscar gave me a knowing look, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, Y/N. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And the way you’ve been acting tonight…”
I crossed my arms defensively, trying to brush it off. “He’s just being his usual flirty self. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Oscar leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as well. “Doesn’t it?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in my throat. Oscar was too good at reading people, and he wasn’t letting me get away with pretending everything was fine.
He sighed, glancing toward the club entrance. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But it’s pretty clear there’s something there. You can’t ignore it forever.”
I groaned, running a hand through my hair.
Oscar offered a sympathetic smile, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Love always is a bit complicated, I think. But that doesn’t mean you should run away from it.”
We fell into silence again, the weight of his words hanging in the air. I wasn’t ready to confront whatever I was feeling, not yet. But Oscar’s insight had a way of sticking with me, whether I wanted it to or not.
After a few moments, Oscar pushed off the wall and gave me a small smile. “Come on, let’s head back inside. I think Lando’s getting ready to play.”
I nodded, following him back toward the entrance. The cool air had done little to calm my racing heart, and I knew I wasn’t ready to face Franco again. But there was no avoiding it. Not tonight.
As we stepped back into the club, the music hit me like a wave, and the energy inside was even more electric than before. Lando was at the DJ booth now, a massive grin on his face as he was preparing to take over the set. The dance floor was packed, and the flashing lights made everything feel surreal.
I spotted Franco near the bar, his eyes immediately locking onto mine as I walked back inside. He didn’t look away this time. Instead, he took a slow sip from his drink, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Oscar nudged me with his elbow, smirking. “Looks like you’ve got some unfinished business.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped at the sight of Franco watching me. “Let’s just dance,” I muttered, pulling Oscar onto the dance floor.
“Y/N! Oscar! Get over here! We were starting to think you’d run off!” Carlos shouted over the music, motioning me toward him.
Without thinking, I grabbed Oscar’s hand and pulled him toward the group. The music, the lights, and the laughter of my friends wrapped around me, easing the tension built up in me earlier. Oscar, clearly reluctant, laughed softly as I spun him around in the middle of the dance floor. His awkward moves were no match for my playful swaying, but it made the moment even funnier.
“You’re a terrible dancer,” I teased him, grinning from ear to ear.
“I never claimed to be a pro,” Oscar quipped, barely able to keep up. His shy smile only made me laugh harder.
Carlos was quick to join in, pulling me away from Oscar as he swayed confidently to the rhythm. The crowd around us blurred, and soon, it was just the familiar faces of my friends. Carlos twirled me once before leaning in playfully.
“Careful, Y/N,” he teased, “I might steal you away from everyone tonight.”
I let out a laugh, shaking my head. “As if! You could try, though.”
Behind me, I could feel the heat of Franco’s gaze burning into the back of my neck. His eyes never left me. Every time Carlos spun me or made me laugh, I could sense Franco’s attention shifting, the tension in his stance growing tighter.
Carlos, always perceptive, picked up on it quickly. "Franco’s been eyeing you more than usual," he commented under his breath, smirking as he twirled me again. "What’s going on there?"
I rolled my eyes, feigning indifference. "Nothing. He’s just… being Franco."
Carlos chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as we moved in sync with the beat. "Right. Nothing. That’s why he’s looking like he wants to punch me."
I let out a huff, but the truth was, I could feel the tension between me and Franco bubbling beneath the surface. Every glance, every stolen look, felt like a promise—one I wasn’t sure I was ready to face yet.
As the song came to an end, I found myself needing a break. "I need a drink," I said, fanning myself as I pulled away from Carlos. "Anyone else?"
Carlos grinned, giving me a playful wink. "I’m good. Say hi to your lover boy from me please."
I laughed, waving him off as I made my way towards the bar. The crowd parted slightly as I moved, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to reset. But I wasn’t alone for long.
Before I could even order my drink, Franco was there, sliding up beside me with an ease that made my heart skip a beat. His presence was overwhelming, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the noise of the club fade into the background.
"You and Carlos seem to be getting along pretty well," Franco commented, his tone casual but laced with something darker—something that sent a thrill down my spine.
I raised an eyebrow, turning to face him fully. "What’s it to you?" I asked, my voice light but teasing. I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
Franco stepped closer, his body brushing against mine as he leaned in. "Just making sure you’re not getting too comfortable with the wrong guy," he said, his voice low, almost possessive.
A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. "Jealous?" I teased, leaning into the challenge. His proximity was intoxicating, and it took everything in me not to show just how much he was affecting me.
Franco’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t step back. If anything, he moved closer, his gaze dark and unreadable. "Maybe," he murmured, his eyes flicking down to my lips before meeting my gaze again. "But you already knew that."
The air between us was charged, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his hand hovered near my waist as if he was waiting for permission to touch me.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Lando’s voice cut through the air, announcing that he was about to take over the set.
The music changed in an instant. The high-energy beats slowed, replaced by something smoother, more intimate. The kind of rhythm that forced people to get close—whether they wanted to or not.
Looking at the booth, I instantly made eye contact with Lando, who winked at me with the widest smirk ever. I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. It was his not-so-subtle attempt at playing matchmaker again, and as much as I hated to admit it, the slow, heavy beat was making it very hard to resist the magnetic pull I felt toward Franco.
"Guess Lando’s got a sense of humor," Franco murmured, closing the distance between us again, his breath brushing against my ear.
I swallowed hard. He was close—too close. The tension that had been simmering all night was now palpable, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending it didn’t affect me. The smell of his cologne, the warmth of his body, I was slowly losing my mind.
Franco didn’t wait for me to respond. His hand found the small of my back, pulling me gently towards him. "Dance with me? Please." His voice was low, almost a whisper, and the sincerity in his eyes caught me off guard. This wasn’t the usual playful Franco I was used to—the one who flirted just for the sake of it. There was something deeper in his gaze, something real.
I hesitated for a moment, trying to catch my breath. "Franco…"
He leaned in, his lips hovering near my ear. "I’m not playing games tonight, Y/N," he whispered, his tone soft but firm. "This isn’t just me messing around."
I looked up at him, my heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his eyes. He was being sincere. This wasn’t the usual charm or smooth lines he used with everyone else—this was real. And it scared me.
"I…" I started, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if I could trust what I was feeling.
Franco’s hand slid from my back to my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "Just dance with me," he whispered again, his lips brushing my ear.
The music pulsed around us, slow and steady, and before I could think better of it, I nodded, slowly letting my guard down and giving in to the moment. Franco’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and he guided me onto the dance floor, our bodies moving in sync with the beat.
For a few moments, we just swayed together, the tension between us crackling in the air. Every touch, every brush of his hand against my skin, sent electricity shooting through me. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, the steady thump of his heart against mine as we moved together.
"You know," Franco murmured, his voice a little rougher now, "I wasn’t lying earlier. About you."
I looked up at him, trying to keep my voice steady. "What do you mean?"
His green eyes met mine, filled with something I couldn’t quite place. "I know I make a lot of flirty jokes. With everyone. But with you? It’s different."
I blinked, the honesty in his words taking me by surprise. I opened my mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished.
"I don’t want you to think I’m just… playing around. This isn’t just some game to me." His hand tightened slightly on my waist, pulling me closer. "You are special to me. I just… I want you to be mine. Just mine."
My heart was pounding in my chest, the world around us fading into the background. His words hung in the air between us, and for the first time, I didn’t know what to say.
Before I could respond, Franco’s hand slid from my waist to my lower back, his fingers brushing against the bare skin exposed by my dress. "I don’t like sharing you," he added, his voice low and filled with something darker, something possessive.
A shiver ran down my spine at the intensity of his words. My heart skipped a beat, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up at him, our faces inches apart.
"Who said you had to?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the music.
Franco didn’t wait for permission. In one swift motion, he closed the gap between us, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
It was like all the tension that had been building between us finally exploded in that one moment. His hands cupped my face, holding me close as his lips moved against mine with a desperation that matched my own. I responded with equal intensity, my hands threading through his hair as I pressed myself closer to him.
The world around us ceased to exist. The music, the crowd, the lights—it all faded into nothing as I lost myself in the kiss. His lips were soft but demanding, and every brush of his fingers against my skin sent a jolt of electricity through me.
He pulled me even closer, his hands sliding down my back, and I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest. My own pulse was racing, my thoughts spinning out of control as we stumbled slightly, moving toward the edge of the dance floor.
Franco’s back hit the wall, and he pulled me against him, his hands still gripping my waist as we kissed with a fervor I hadn’t known existed. His tongue brushed against mine, and I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening in his hair as I pressed my body against his.
When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. Franco’s green eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he looked down at me.
"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
I smiled, my fingers still tangled in his hair. "You’re not the only one," I whispered back, my heart racing.
Franco chuckled softly, his hands still resting on my waist as he looked down at me with a mix of affection and desire. "I’m never letting you go now, hermosa."
The way he said it made my heart flutter, and without thinking, I leaned in for another kiss. This one was slower, more tender, but just as intense. We stayed like that for what felt like forever, lost in our own little world, oblivious to the party happening around us.
Finally, Franco pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "Let’s get out of here," he murmured, his voice still rough with emotion.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Together, we slipped away from the dance floor, unnoticed by the rest of the party as we made our way outside.
The club’s energy still buzzed in my veins as Franco and I stepped outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat of the dance floor. He tugged me toward the beach, the soft sound of waves pulling us further away from the noise inside. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting the Baku coast in a beautiful gentle silver glow. I couldn’t help but smile at the shift in atmosphere, from the wild club scene to the quiet, intimate stillness of the beach.
Franco was glowing, that much was obvious. He hadn’t stopped smiling since we left the club. And I knew it wasn’t just the thrill of dancing. Scoring his first F1 points today had him on cloud nine, and it was infectious. I felt it, too—his joy, his excitement—it made him even more attractive, if that was possible.
“You’re really not tired?” I teased, bumping his shoulder lightly as we strolled along the sand. “It’s been a pretty big day for you.”
He turned to me, his green eyes sparkling under the moonlight. “Are you kidding? Best day of my life.”
I laughed softly, stopping to let the waves lap at my feet. “The points are a big deal, Colapinto. You’re a proper driver now.”
Franco chuckled, but when he looked at me, his expression softened. “Yeah, but it’s not just the points. Today… everything about it just feels right.”
I raised an eyebrow, playfully tilting my head. “Oh yeah? What’s so special about it?”
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I could see past all the flirting and teasing to something deeper. “You,” he said simply, stepping closer. “This.”
I blinked, my heart stumbling over itself at the sincerity in his voice. “Oh stop it…”
“I’m serious,” he interrupted gently, his voice dropping lower. “Today was incredible. But I’ve been wanting this moment with you for a while. And tonight… it’s just perfect.”
There it was again—that raw honesty that caught me off guard. He wasn’t playing games, wasn’t teasing. He meant it.
“I didn’t think anything could top your race today,” I said quietly, unable to tear my gaze away from him.
Franco smiled, his hand finding its way to my waist, pulling me a little closer. “The points were great. But this? Being here with you? This is better.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and before I knew it, we were kissing again. But this time, it was slower, more deliberate. The heat from earlier gave way to something softer, something that made my heart ache in the best way possible.
When we finally pulled back, I rested my forehead against his, still catching my breath. “Guess today really was your day, huh?”
Franco chuckled, his hand gently brushing my hair back. “Yeah. And it’s not over yet.”
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How can you mend a broken heart? [lmk]
“It’s only to make him Jealous Y/n, swear.”
✧ mark lee x fem!reader
✧ Genre- angst, fluff, mutual pining, best friends to strangers to lovers, fake dating, university au (only implied once though).
✧ Wc- 11k
✧ Warnings- heartbreak, kissing.
✧ Playlist- how can you mend a broken heart - Al Green / Moon river - Frank Ocean / Lose Control - Teddy Swims / Tell Him - Ms. Lauryn Hill / At Last - Etta James / ✧
a/n- omg hi again! I enjoyed writing my last mark angst so I decided to do another one with a… happier ending. I hope you guys enjoy!
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"Hey, I got here as fast as I could... woah dude, are you okay?" Mark's smile dropped the moment he saw your puffy, watery eyes through the door frame. You didn't say anything, just reached out and pulled him into a hug, sobbing into his chest.
"We're done, we're really done, Mark... it's over." Your voice trembled, each word fragile as you struggled to keep your emotions together.
Mark froze for a second, caught off guard before gently wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in tighter. His shirt dampened from your tears, but he didn't care. He just held you, trying to steady you with his presence.
"Wait who? You and Jaemin?" Mark asked, his voice filled with concern as he stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him without letting go. His arm remained firmly around your waist, supporting you as you buried your face in his chest.
You nodded, struggling to breathe between sobs. "We had this huge fight over... Minecraft, Mark— fucking Minecraft! He told me he couldn't do this anymore. That we weren't going to work, and he just left."
You pulled back from the hug, your lip quivering uncontrollably as hot tears streamed down your face. The disbelief, the shock of it all was hitting you hard. Your mind was racing, replaying the fight over and over. It felt surreal how something so stupid could destroy everything.
Mark's eyebrows shot up, a brief expression of surprise painting his face. "Minecraft...?" He raised a brow, and for a split second, the corner of his mouth shaped into a small smirk.
Your expression shifted, eyes narrowing. "It's not funny." you muttered, voice cracking. "It's not-”
"No, no, I know. It's not funny." Mark quickly interrupted, his smirk fading as he saw the pain in your eyes. "I'm sorry Y/n. It's not funny at all."
"What an asshole for breaking up with you over Minecraft of all things." He paused, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked at you.
You let out a shaky breath, wiping your face with the back of your hand, but the tears kept coming. "It wasn't just the game Mark. He said he's been feeling like this for a while. That I didn't 'get him' anymore. And that stupid argument was just the last straw, I guess."
"Dude that still doesn't give him the right to like, leave you like that, over something so... stupid. If he was feeling something, he should've talked to you. It's not on you to just magically know what he's thinking." Mark said, eyes softening as he gently cupped your shoulder, guiding you to the couch.
You sat down, pulling your knees to your chest, staring blankly at the floor. "I thought we were fine. Like, we had our ups and downs, but I thought we would work through it."
Mark sat next to you, his arm sliding around your shoulders, pulling you close again. "You didn't do anything wrong. If he's been feeling this way and didn't tell you, that's on him, not you. You're not a mind reader."
You leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I just... I feel so stupid. Over a game, Mark. Who loses someone they love over Minecraft?"
"It's not stupid." Mark said softly.
"He's the one who made this bigger than it needed to be. It could've been a conversation, but he turned it into something else. He made the choice to walk away, not you."
"But what if I'm not enough? What if... I never was?" You sniffed, trying to stop the fresh tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
Mark tightened his grip around you, his voice firm. "Don't say that. You are more than enough. Jaemin didn't deserve you if he couldn't see that. You deserve someone who's going to communicate, who's going to fight for you, not leave over some dumb fight."
You stayed quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. His warmth and presence were the only things keeping you sane right now. Mark always knew how to make you feel safe, even when everything around you was falling apart.
"I don't know how to move on from this." You whispered lightly.
"You don't have to figure it all out right now—" Mark said gently.
"I'm here, okay? We'll get through this together. One step at a time. And if that means we stay up all night, then so be it. Or like you know, we can just destroy things in creative mode until you feel better."
A small laugh escaped you, despite everything. It was weak, but it was there. "That... actually sounds kind of nice."
Mark grinned, nudging you playfully. "See? One tiny step forward already. And seriously man, Jaemin doesn't know what he's missing."
You wiped your face again, the tears slowing. "Thanks Mark. I really don't know what I'd do without you."
His expression softened as he smiled. "Well, you'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."
You laid your head on his shoulder, sitting silently as you two took in each other’s embrace.
Aren’t you glad to have a best friend like Mark?
────୨ৎ────
"So, how are you feeling?" Mark asked, his eyes flickering between the movie on the screen and you. The soft glow from the TV cast shadows across the room, but his attention was entirely on you.
You took a handful of popcorn and slowly chewed, letting out a deep sigh as you leaned back against the couch. "Better..." you said, forcing a small smile. It wasn't entirely true, but sitting next to him, you felt a little more at ease.
Mark smiled softly, sensing your hesitation, but he didn't push for more. For a moment, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the background noise of the movie filling the space between your thoughts, but the quiet never lasted long.
You sat up suddenly, huffing as you crossed your arms. "Ugh Mark, it's just like—why did this have to happen to me? We're in the same friend group, and now it's gonna be so awkward. I can't even think about how I'll face him."
As if on cue, your phone buzzed on the coffee table, lighting up with notifications from the group chat. A notification from your group of friends. You frowned as you swiped the notifications away.
Mark glanced at his own phone, seeing the same texts. "You know me and my ex are in that friend group too, and it hasn't affected anything," He said, giving a small shrug. "As you can see, we've all moved on and if Jaemin has any sense left, he'll do the same. He won't bring anything up and will just... leave you alone."
Mark's voice trailed off as his phone buzzed again. "Plus, it looks like he's already getting the memo. He hasn't said a word since-"
"Well, what about me, Mark?!" You blurted out, pressing the "Do Not Disturb" button on your phone in frustration, your voice rising as you tossed your phone aside and slumped back onto the couch, lips forming a pout. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mark follow your lead, tapping the same option on his own screen. It made you smile a little, knowing that even in this, he was quietly on your side.
Mark sighed and nudged you lightly with his elbow. "Look, just stop overthinking it, okay? Watch the movie. Everything will be fine. Trust me."
When you didn't respond he reached out, gently brushing away a few popcorn crumbs from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. His touch lingered for a second longer than necessary and you caught his gaze, feeling a flutter in your chest. For a moment the tension between you shifted—just the slightest flicker, but enough to make you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.
"You know..." You said, trying to distract yourself from the sudden tension."You'd make such a better boyfriend than Jaemin. How'd you and your ex break up again?"
"She broke up with me to 'focus on herself' or something like that. Honestly, I don't even care anymore. I'm over it." Mark said chuckling, shaking his head.
"Oh my god, yeah, no, I remember that. I knew there was another reason I didn't like her." You said with a teasing smile
Mark raised an eyebrow, his curiosity scratching at him. "Wait, what's the first reason?"
You raised your eyebrows right back, a mischievous smirk painting your lips. "Naw, don't get quiet now!" Mark teased, his tone light but challenging. "Tell me, or I’ll tell her you didn't like her this whole time."
"Stop Mark, oh my god. She probably already knows anyway." You giggled, swatting him playfully.
Both of you broke into laughter, the playful energy between you easing the tension, but then, your phone lit up again, snapping you both out of the moment. It was another group chat notification. You glanced at the screen, and Mark did the same.
“You're invited to my mini get together at the arcade tomorrow at 8. Idc if you're busy, drop it and be there!”
You sighed heavily and turned your phone off, tossing it aside again.
"We're gonna have so much fun." Mark said sarcastically, even though he was already typing a confirmation in the chat.
"We're not gonna have anything because I'm not going." You muttered, folding your arms across your chest. You could feel his gaze shift to you, the teasing gone from his face.
"Dude. Yes, you are." He said, his voice firm but gentle.
"Look at me! I can't go out and see him this soon. I'm a mess, Mark." You shot back, gesturing at yourself with a frown.
"You're not a mess." He said, shaking his head, his eyes softening as he watched you.
"You're upset, and that's normal. But trust me, you can do this. He didn't even respond to the invite, see? He's probably not even going. I'll be with you the entire time."
You wanted to hide from everything, from everyone, but the way Mark was looking at you—his eyes filled with quiet determination, like he wouldn't take no for an answer made it hard to refuse.
"Seriously Y/n, please come. I'll make sure it's not awkward, I swear." He said, his voice low, almost pleading.
You stared at him, meeting his gaze. After a long pause, you finally let out a sigh. "Fine... fine, I'll go." You mumbled, grabbing your phone to confirm in the group chat.
Mark's face broke into a wide smile, his eyes lighting up. "Thank you! You won't regret it. I'll make sure we have fun."
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help smiling at his excitement. "You better." You muttered.
"So, I'm obviously staying the night, right? Where are my pajamas? I know I left them here somewhere." Mark said, standing up and stretching, grinning down at you.
"You always do this.” You laughed, shaking your head, getting up to retrieve them from the closet. As you walked away, you could feel his eyes on you—lingering.
As you handed him his pajamas, his fingers brushed yours briefly. Mark smiled at you, softer this time, and for a moment it felt like the room had shrunk around the two of you, like the world outside didn't exist.
"Thanks." He murmured, looking at you with sparkling eyes. You held his gaze for a beat longer than usual, before turning away.
"Yeah... no problem." You whispered, getting settled back onto the couch.
────୨ৎ────
"Y/n, are you ready? I'm here."
You read the text from Mark, your phone screen glowing as you sat on the edge of your bed.
"No." you typed back quickly, slightly confused when he left you on read. A few minutes later you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and of course... Mark was standing there, a playful grin on his face.
"Dude, I seriously thought you flaked on me—" he said but paused, his eyes widening as they scanned you from head to toe. "Damn girl. We're going to an arcade, not a fine dining restaurant."
"Mark stop." You giggled, slipping on your shoes. "I'm just wearing a skirt and a shirt." You grabbed your bag and led him out the door.
"Yeah, but you look good though man. Like, really pretty and stuff like that" he stuttered awkwardly, a nervous smile creeping onto his face. Your own smile mirroring his.
"Thank you Mark." you responded softly.
"Oh, and good news. Jaemin's not even gonna be there. He never responded." He added, glancing at his phone as you walked toward his car.
"That's a relief." You said, but the unease in your stomach didn't completely fade. You climbed into the passenger seat, hoping tonight would go smoothly.
When you and Mark arrived at the arcade you both walked in with smiles, ready to see your friends, but the moment your eyes scanned the room, your smile dropped. There sitting at the table, laughing with the group, was Jaemin.
Your heart dropped. Out of instinct, you grabbed Mark's hand, holding it tightly to stop any emotion from showing on your face.
"Sorry- " You muttered, quickly pulling your hand away. It wasn't like it was the first time you'd held Mark's hand, but tonight, it felt different. More... loaded. Before he could respond you spoke again, your voice filled with nervous frustration.
"Mark you said he wasn't gonna be here." You whispered, glancing at him with betrayal.
"I didn't know!" Mark raised his hands in defense, looking at you with those endearing, soft eyes.
"Listen, no matter what, I promised you a good time, and I'm sticking to that. That's what's gonna happen." He gave you a reassuring smile and before you could say anything he slid his hand into yours again, this time intentionally.
You blinked at him, feeling a wave of warmth spread through your chest as his thumb lightly brushed your knuckles.
"Okay?" He asked, his eyes locking with yours.
"Okay." You nodded, squeezing his hand back.
As Mark led you toward the group, you couldn't help but notice the heat of his hand still in yours. Your friends greeted you with excited smiles, but your eyes immediately moved to Jaemin, sitting there with a bitter expression, his gaze on your joined hands.
"Oooo, what's this?" One of your friends teased, wiggling her eyebrows as she eyed the two of you.
You and Mark stayed silent, sharing an awkward smile, but neither of you let go.
"I thought you were with Jaemin?" Someone else asked, causing the group to agree in confusion.
"We—" you began, but quickly cut yourself off.
"He broke up with me." You said, your voice a bit too smug as you shot a look directly at Jaemin, everyone's attention shifting to him.
"And it looks like you didn't have trouble finding a replacement quickly, huh?" Jaemin responded coldly, crossing his arms.
"Mark has been my best friend for years, so was it really a replacement when he was here first?" You retorted.
The group fell into silence, all eyes falling between you and Jaemin, waiting for his reaction.
Jaemin scoffed, his lips turning into a sarcastic smirk.
"Oh right. 'Best friends'. "Funny how 'best friends' always seem to turn into something more the second things end, huh? Makes me wonder what was really going on before we broke up." He said, his tone mocking.
Mark's body tensed beside you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. You could feel the anger radiating from him, but before he could speak, Jaemin interrupted him. "I guess you're really good at keeping your 'options' open aren't you?"
You took a sharp breath, eyes dark as you looked at him. "Another excuse? Was Minecraft not enough?"
The room erupted into quiet whispers, and one of your friends spoke up, "Wait dude... you broke up with her over Minecraft?"
Jaemin's smirk fell for a second.
"It was more complicated than that." He started, but before he could finish someone else interrupted.
"Guys! Can we please just eat and play games like we planned instead of focusing on Mark and Y/n's new relationship?" A loud voice broke through the tension, trying to steer the conversation away.
"Sounds like a plan." Someone else laughed, trying to ease the mood, but as the group prepared to move to the arcade section, Jaemin spoke once again.
"Notice how they didn't deny it though."
"DUDE, CMON." Someone yelled, dragging Jaemin away from the both of you.
Inside the arcade the atmosphere lightened as your friends scattered to play games. The flashing lights and music filled the room helping you momentarily forget the earlier tension.
You and Mark stuck close together, trying out various games, but even in the chaos of flashing neon lights and arcade noises, you couldn't shake the way you felt whenever Mark looked at you. At one point, Mark pulled you toward a basketball shooting game.
"Think you can beat me?" He teased, tossing a ball between his hands.
"Of course I can." You laughed, stepping up to the machine.
The game began and you focused on shooting as many baskets as possible, the competition between you heating up. When the game ended, Mark had won by just a few points, but you noticed he seemed more distracted by you than by the score.
"Guess I'm still the champion." He said, leaning in closer as he spoke, his voice lower than usual.
"Whatever." You rolled your eyes, but smiled, nudging him playfully.
"You only won because I was distracted."
"Oh yeah? By what?" He asked, tilting his head slightly, his stare intense.
You paused, looking everywhere but his eyes.
"By... everything." You mumbled, feeling a little hot.
"Well, you're not the only one." He smiled, cheekbones prominent as he looked at you with sparkling eyes.
"Uh huh, says the all time champion." You chuckle, placing your hand on his chest, trying to push him away before the moment was interrupted.
"Hey you two! Stop flirting and come play air hockey with us."
"Stop!" You whine jokingly, looking back at Mark, realizing your hand is still resting on his chest.
"Oh oops." You both laughed awkwardly, his cheeks flushed. But as you followed your friends, you couldn't help but feel like something had shifted between you and Mark... well... maybe not? You don't know, it doesn't matter anyways.
The night had gone better than you expected, and you found yourself laughing with Mark as you headed to the car. The tension from earlier with Jaemin had mostly melted away.
"See, I told you we were gonna have fun." Mark said, glancing over with a smile that made your chest feel warm.
"Yeah I had a good time. I'm glad you convinced me to come out." You giggled, leaning back in your seat, grinning to yourself, but the moment faded as Mark went quiet, the silence lingering, thickening the air between you.
"So... when are we gonna tell them that we're actually not dating?" Mark asked, breaking the silence. His tone was light, but something about the question made your grin fall as you stared out the window.
"They'll figure it out eventually." You replied, turning to face him with a forced smile, trying to keep things casual.
Mark hummed in response, his focus shifting back to the road, but the easy vibe from earlier was gone, replaced by something heavier, something unsaid.
He pulled up to your apartment complex, the car engine humming softly as you prepared to get out.
"Thanks for tonight Mark. I'll see you later." You said, trying to sound optimistic.
"Wait—don't you want me to walk you in?" He asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
"No thanks. I’m good, seriously." You said, smiling again, his sad eyes lingering on you a little longer than usual. Something about the way he was looking at you made your heart do a weird flip, that look in his eyes.
"See you later boyfriend." You teased trying to break the tension before the air could get even weirder.
"See you later girlfriend." Mark smiled, even though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
As you shut the car door and walked up to your apartment, a strange mix of emotions welled up inside you. You felt confused—happy maybe?—but also kind of hollow.
Something about the whole night left you unsettled. You collapsed onto your couch, trying to make sense of it, when you heard a knock at the door, startling you.
You opened it to see Mark standing there again, biting his lip nervously.
"Mark. What do you want?" you joked, even though a small part of you meant it.
"Can I talk to you real quick?" He asked, stepping inside without waiting for an answer. The look in his eyes was different now, more serious.
"Yeah, sure." You said, sitting down beside him on the couch.
"What's going on?"
"It's nothing super serious, but... hear me out?" He looked like he was bracing himself for something, and you nodded, feeling the shift in the air. "Maybe we should, like... act like we're dating for real. You know, like fake date." he stuttered on his words, his eyes flicking nervously to yours. "To make Jaemin jealous."
"You want to fake date... to get back at Jaemin?" You blinked, caught off guard.
"He was definitely rattled tonight, you saw that."
You just stared at him blankly.
"And he deserves it for how he treated you. Plus, it'd be easy right? We've been best friends forever, so it wouldn't even be weird." Mark continued, his words rushing out as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.
You couldn't help but laugh, scratching the back of your head. "Mark, this is a very... wild idea… so what, we're just gonna fake a big breakup later too?"
He waved that off, grinning. "Dude we'll deal with that later. Come on Y/n, this could be fun. And it's not like there's anything complicated between us—we don't like each other like that, so it's just, like, a fun game. Right?"
Your heart squeezed at that last part, the words hitting a little harder than you expected. No feelings? Nothing complicated?
After a pause, you nodded. "Ok. Let's do it."
“Yes! This is gonna be awesome." Mark said, face lighting up as he grabbed your hands in excitement, his energy infectious.
You watched him for a second, trying to ignore how warm his hands felt holding yours, how his smile seemed to linger a little too long on his face.
"You seem a little too excited about this." You teased, trying to push aside the growing tension inside you.
"What can I say? Fake dating my best friend sounds kinda fun." He shrugged, a smile still on his face.
You raised an eyebrow, but before you could respond, you yawned, feeling the exhaustion from the night catch up with you.
"Ok Mark. I'm tired, so you can, like... leave now." You said with a laugh.
Mark stood up, pretending to look hurt. "Wow, kicking your boyfriend out already. I want to break up."
You froze for a second, your eyes widening in shock.
His face softened when he realized what he'd said. "Or... maybe not! Bye Y/n."
You rolled your eyes, shutting the door on him, but just as you started to walk away, you heard another knock. You opened the door again to see him grinning sheepishly.
"You didn't say bye back." He said, eyes twinkling.
"Bye Mark." You said. You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head.
As you closed the door for the second time, you stood there for a moment, your heart pounding a little faster than it should have been. You were in a fake relationship with your best friend now. Nothing could go wrong with that... right?
────୨ৎ────
The next few days passed in a blur and nothing major had changed on the surface, but there was an undeniable shift between you and Mark. You kept telling yourself it was just the fake dating thing that made everything feel... different, but now every time you texted or hung out, the words carried a weight they never had before.
That became clear the next time Mark showed up at your apartment. You were getting ready for another group hangout, some casual lunch with everyone—including Jaemin. Mark arrived early as usual, but instead of heading straight out, he lingered by the door.
"Do I look okay?" You asked, adjusting your outfit in the mirror. It was an innocent question, one you had asked him hundred times before, but this time, when he looked at you, his gaze lingered.
"You look great." He said, his voice quieter than usual.
His eyes traveled from your face, down to your shoes, then back up, locking on yours. Your stomach flipped, and you turned away, breaking the moment. You were just reading into things. That's all.
"Thanks. You're not too bad yourself." You joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Mark chuckled, but it felt off, a little awkward.
"Ready to go?" He asked, grabbing the keys from the counter.
As you stepped out together you couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing, something neither of you were saying.
Lunch with the group was surprisingly less tense than the last hangout. Jaemin was there, but he didn't cause any scenes, probably because the rest of the group was on high alert. You sat next to Mark as usual, and he played his part perfectly, but then there was a moment when the group had split up to order food.
You and Mark were left alone at the table, the buzz of the restaurant fading into the background as you both sat there in silence.
"You're doing okay, right?" Mark asked, his voice softer than before.
"Yeah." You said, even though it felt like a lie. You weren't sure what "okay" even meant anymore.
"It's just weird, you know? Being around him like this."
Mark nodded, his hand resting on the table between you. You stared at it for a moment, then felt a sudden rush of warmth as his fingers brushed yours.
He didn't pull away.
Your heart thudded in your chest. You told yourself it was just part of the act—something to keep up appearances, but when you looked up and met Mark's eyes, there was a flicker of something real in them. Something unspoken, but heavy. You quickly looked away, pretending to check your phone. "Everyone's taking forever to order." You said, forcing a laugh.
Mark didn't say anything for a second, his fingers still brushing against yours, but eventually he pulled his hand back.
"Yeah, they are." He said, his voice tight.
The rest of lunch passed quickly, the conversation flowing but your mind kept drifting to that moment at the table. You tried to push it aside—tried to focus on what you had agreed on, that this was just an act, but with every glance Mark threw your way, every small smile that seemed more genuine than playful, you felt that barrier between friendship and something more begin to crumble.
Later that evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch, replaying the day in your head. It wasn't like anything major had happened, but the tension between you and Mark was starting to feel impossible to ignore.
A text lit up your phone.
“Hey, you still up?”
You smiled, replying quickly.
“Yeah, what's up?”
“ I was just thinking... about earlier. Do you think we're doing a good job selling this whole "dating" thing?”
You paused, unsure how to respond. He was clearly still in "fake dating" mode, but for you... you didn't know what mode you were in.
“Yeah, I think it's going pretty well. Why?”
“Just making sure man. I don't want Jaemin or anyone thinking we're half-assing it.”
You stared at the message for a moment, the weight of what wasn't being said hanging between the lines. It would be so easy to just laugh it off, keep things as they were.
But...
“You know, sometimes I forget we're faking it.”
The message sat there on your screen, your heart racing as you hit send. You didn't know what you were expecting—maybe a joke or some lighthearted reply to brush it all off.
But his reply came.
“Yeah. Me too.”
You stared at his message, your heart pounding harder now. The space between you had shifted again, but this time it felt like there was no going back.
────୨ৎ────
The next day you and Mark tried to go back to normal, pretending like nothing had changed after that conversation. It was easy enough at first. You had a study session planned and just like old times, Mark showed up with snacks and a hoodie that was two sizes too big. You sat cross legged on the floor, books sprawled out in front of you, Mark was on the couch, pretending to focus.
Every once in a while you'd catch him glancing at you, or you'd find yourself zoning out, staring at the way his hands fidgeted with the corner of a page. The atmosphere was different, and you both knew it.
Still, you didn't talk about it.
"So." Mark said, breaking the silence, "I was thinking we should do something tomorrow. You know, for the whole... fake dating thing." He fumbled with his words, like he was trying to find the right balance between casual and something else.
"Like another group hangout?" You asked, looking up at him.
"Maybe…or just the two of us? We could go out and get coffee or something, act like we're on a date. Just to keep up the illusion."
A spark flickered in your chest, but you quickly pushed it down. It's just for the act, you reminded yourself. Nothing more.
"Yeah, that makes sense." you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "We should probably post something too. You know, sell it on social media."
Mark nodded, a little too quickly. "Exactly. People will totally buy it if they see us together more."
There was an awkward pause, both of you knowing full well that you already spent nearly all your time together, but not willing to admit it. Instead, you focused on flipping through the pages of your textbook, hoping that the silence would swallow up the tension.
After a while Mark stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. "It's kinda funny, isn't it?" He said, almost speaking to himself.
"What is?"
"How we've been best friends for years and no one ever thought we'd be more and now we're pretending to be something we never were."
You laughed lightly, but it felt forced. “Yeah…funny." You paused, tapping your pen against the edge of your notebook. "But like, it's not a big deal, right? I mean, we know it's just fake."
"Right." Mark echoed, but there was something in his tone that made it sound like he was trying to convince himself more than you.
You glanced up at him, catching his eyes for a split second before he quickly looked away, his face flushing just slightly. There it was again—that weird tension that made everything feel more complicated than it should be.
"Yeah…" You said, forcing a smile, "just fake."
The words hung in the air between you like an unspoken agreement, both of you clinging to the safety of that label ‘fake’. As long as you called it that, you could deny everything else.
Later that evening, after Mark had left and you were alone in your apartment, you couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled over you. Your mind kept wandering back to the way he'd looked at you—like there was something he wanted to say, but didn't.
You weren't supposed to think about Mark like this. He was your best friend. That's all he’s ever been, and that's all this was supposed to be. You were fake dating to make Jaemin jealous, to get back at him, not because you actually had feelings for Mark. That would be ridiculous, but despite how much you tried to convince yourself, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that kept whispering otherwise, it always did.
You shook your head, tossing your phone onto the couch. This was just a weird phase where you were overthinking everything because of the fake relationship. You and Mark would go back to normal soon, and all this awkward tension would fade away. It had to.
But as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if it didn't.
────୨ৎ────
The next day, you and Mark met up for coffee, just like he had suggested. It was supposed to be casual—a fake date to keep up appearances. But the second you walked into the café together, the mood shifted.
Mark held the door open for you, his hand brushing against yours as you walked past him and it sent a jolt through you that you tried to ignore. He was just being polite.
Friendly.
Nothing more.
You ordered your drinks and sat by the window, the sunlight streaming in and casting a warm glow on the table. Mark was fidgeting again, playing with the sleeve of his hoodie, his knee bouncing up and down under the table.
"You're nervous?" You teased, trying to break the tension.
"What? No I'm not." He said quickly, but his knee stopped bouncing, and he gave you a sheepish grin. "Okay, maybe a little. I'm just not used to... this."
"Neither am I." You admitted, stirring your coffee aimlessly.
"But it's fine. We've got this."
"Yeah. It's just pretend anyway.” Mark said, his eyes darting to the window, avoiding yours.
"Right. Just pretend."
But as the conversation drifted to other topics and you both laughed like you always did, the line between pretending and something more blurred again. You weren't supposed to feel this comfortable with him. You weren't supposed to notice how his eyes crinkled when he smiled or how your heart sped up when he laughed at one of your dumb jokes.
You weren't supposed to feel like this was more than fake.
But you did.
And judging by the way Mark's gaze lingered on you a little too long when he thought you weren't looking, you had a feeling he was feeling the same. Neither of you said it, though. You both kept pretending. Because it was safer that way.
────୨ৎ────
You'd been feeling pretty good about the whole "fake relationship" situation. Things with Mark were comfortable, just like they always had been, and somehow playing this little game in front of your friends made everything seem almost... fun. It was easy with him. He was always easy to be around, but that changed when you spotted him with his ex.
It was by pure chance—coming out of a coffee shop with your hands full of iced drinks, you saw them together on the sidewalk. She was laughing at something he said, her hand brushing his arm lightly as they walked. Mark... he looked at her like he used to. Like she was the only person in the world. You felt your stomach twist painfully, a lump forming in your throat.
You didn't want to feel hurt. It was ridiculous, wasn't it? You were just pretending. This whole thing with Mark was fake. So why did it feel so real all of a sudden?
You swallowed hard, gripping the drink carrier a little tighter as you walked past them, pretending you didn't notice. Mark didn't even see you.
You were sitting back at home. Before you could spiral any further, your phone buzzed.
"Hey, wanna hang out later? 😊"
Your head lingered on what you saw earlier before you replied.
"Yeah, sure."
Later that evening, when you met up with Mark everything was still fresh in your mind. He greeted you with his usual wide smile, but you couldn't help but notice the slight hesitancy in his step as he approached.
"What's up?" He asked, nudging your shoulder lightly. "You seem quiet."
"I'm good. Just thinking." You responded, forcing a smile.
"Thinking too much, as usual." He giggled, giving you another playful nudge, trying to lighten the mood.
You let out a small laugh, but it felt hollow. You couldn't bring yourself to bring up his ex just yet. What were you going to say anyway? It wasn't your business. You and Mark were only pretending to be together, but as you walked, chatting about nothing in particular, the question was burning on the tip of your tongue.
"So... how was your day?" You asked casually, hoping he’d bring it up.
"Pretty chill. Just hung out with some people." He shrugged. “But now it’s better cause I’m with you.” He smiled, looking at you with those same sparkling eyes.
And you kept up the act, laughing along, pretending it didn't bother you.
But it did.
That night, when you were alone, the uneasiness grew. You couldn't stop picturing them together. The way she smiled at him, how comfortable they looked. What really made you more uneasy was the fact that he hid it from you and acted like nothing happened earlier— makes you wonder how many times this has been happening.
The level of hurt you felt was immense, the person who was supposed to protect you from your feelings, made you hurt even more… and before you knew it, you were staring at your phone, hovering over Jaemin's name in your contacts.
You bit your lip, hesitating for just a moment before typing a message.
“Hey... can we talk?”
It felt strange reaching out to him after everything, but you weren't trying to get back together. You just wanted something to ground you, something familiar, someone who could remind you of who you were before everything got messy.
Jaemin responded almost immediately.
“Yeah. Want to meet up?”
Your heart raced as you stared at his text. Was this the right thing to do? You weren't sure, but the thought of seeing Mark with his ex again made you feel like you had to do something.
“Sure.”
You agreed to meet the next day, and you knew deep down that fixing things with Jaemin wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't erase the strange ache you felt watching Mark with someone else. But maybe, just maybe, it would help distract you from it.
At least for a little while.
────୨ৎ────
Ever since you spotted Mark with his ex something in you shifted. You tried not to let it get to you, tried to remind yourself that it shouldn't matter, but the hurt was there, like an ache you couldn't shake. It was hard enough pretending this fake relationship wasn't confusing your feelings more every day, and now this?
The group meet up was supposed to be just another casual hangout, but this time you didn't feel like riding with Mark. After everything that had happened, especially seeing him with his ex, you weren't sure if you could sit in the car with him without it all bubbling to the surface.
So, when he offered to pick you up, you quickly shot it down, saying you'd drive yourself.
"Okay... cool." Mark said, sounding a little confused, but brushing it off. He didn't push it, and that was fine by you.
The arcade was buzzing when you arrived and you immediately spotted Jaemin. You hadn't expected things to be so easy between the two of you, but somehow they were. You weren't getting back together or anything, but there was a sense of comfort now. Your interactions became normal as you both slipped back into old habits—laughing, joking, sharing quick, familiar smiles.
You felt lighter, or at least you wanted to, but the second Mark walked in that fragile peace shattered. You could feel his eyes on you from across the room, the weight of his stare practically pulling you toward him, but you forced yourself to stay focused on Jaemin.
You barely acknowledged him. Every time he tried to speak, you turned to someone else, laughing a little louder, pretending everything was fine. You didn't trust yourself to talk to him, not with how confused and hurt you still felt.
Finally, Mark had enough, standing up and walking over to you. voice low as he asked "Hey, can we talk? Outside?"
You sighed, giving Jaemin a quick glance before standing up. "Yeah, sure."
The second you were outside Mark turned to you, his jaw clenched. "What's going on with you and Jaemin?"
"Nothing. We're fine now. What, is that a problem?" You crossed your arms, not wanting to do this, but knowing you couldn't avoid it forever.
Mark's brows furrowed, his voice rising slightly. "It kinda feels like it is. We're supposed to be... you know, close. And now you're acting like I don't exist... You've been ignoring me all night Y/n. And now you're good with him again?"
Your frustration finally bubbled over. "Why do you even care Mark? It's not like you cared when you were hanging out with your ex."
Mark blinked, caught off guard. "What? What are you talking about?"
"I saw you." You said, the bitterness creeping into your voice. "I saw you with her. You two looked pretty close."
He stared at you, eyes wide in shock. "Y/n, it wasn't like that. We were just talking. It didn't mean anything."
"When we started fake dating it wasn't just about making Jaemin jealous, was it? You wanted her attention too." You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check.
Mark's eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by your words. "What? No Y/n, that's not—" he started, stumbling over his own thoughts. "It wasn't about her. I didn't- I thought we were both in on it, just... trying to move on." His voice softened, the uncertainty in his eyes betraying his attempt to seem sure of himself.
You shook your head, the sting of disappointment tightening in your chest. "That's the thing, Mark. It feels like you did choose her—again. Every time you get close to me, you pull back the second she's around." Your voice wavered, the hurt slipping out despite how hard you tried to keep it in.
"What?" Mark asked, genuinely confused now, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated now. "But we're together, Y/n?" He said, almost as if he believed it himself.
You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, now we're together? You didn't seem to be thinking about me when you were with her."
Mark's face twisted, frustration mixing with something else—something deeper. "That's not fair." He muttered, stepping closer. "You know it's not like that."
"Then what is it like Mark? Because I don't know what to think anymore. You were the one person I never thought I'd have to guard my heart from." You spoke, your voice softer now, but still filled with pain.
The air between you was thick with unspoken words, tension swirling in the space as Mark stood there, his gaze locked on yours. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his expression shifted from frustration to something softer, something vulnerable.
You tried to turn away, but he reached out, gently grabbing your wrist. "You don't have to guard your heart away from me... tell me how you feel."
You shook your head, trying to pull away, but he wouldn't let you. "Mark, let's just—"
Before you could say anything else, he moved closer. Then, without another word, he leaned in.
His lips were on yours, urgent and desperate, like he was trying to make sense of everything the only way he knew how, and you let yourself fall into it.
It was good… too good, and it made your head spin. It wasn't a soft kiss, not hesitant or uncertain. It was filled with the weight of everything you'd both been holding back—the confusion, the tension, the yearning that had built up over time.
For a second, you let yourself melt into him, feeling his warmth, the way his hands gently cupped your face like he was scared you'd pull away, your hands gripping his shirt. For a moment, it felt right—like all the confusion, had led to this, but then reality hit you again, hard.
"You're so confusing." You whispered, pulling away from him.
Without waiting for him to respond, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, the weight of the kiss still hanging in the air between you.
You didn't look back, you couldn't. If you did, you weren't sure what would happen next.
────୨ৎ────
You were curled up on your couch, staring at the TV without really watching it, replaying the kiss with Mark in your mind. Your lips still tingled with his taste and your heart felt heavy with all the confusion. You didn't know what to think, what to feel. The tension between you and Mark had been building for so long, but the way it ended... his words still echoed in your mind.
A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Your heart raced. It was Mark, it had to be him. He would want to talk things through? Maybe he felt the same things you did. You hurried to the door hoping for some kind of resolution, but when you swung it open your heart sank.
Jaemin stood there, hands shoved in his pockets. "Hey." He said, glancing down at the ground, then back up at you with those familiar eyes.
"Oh it's just you..." You answered, you couldn't help but to sound a little disappointed, prompting Jaemin's eyebrows to raise.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He giggled, before peeking inside "Can I come in?"
You blinked, stepping back instinctively. "Jaemin... what are you doing here?"
He stepped inside, his presence filling the space with an awkward energy. "I wanted to talk." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I've been thinking Y/n, about us. I know things ended badly, but... maybe we made a mistake—I made a mistake. I miss you."
You froze, out of all possible times...
"Jaemin..." You began, but before you could finish, there was another knock at the door.
Your heart leaped again, glancing at Jaemin, your stomach twisting. This time you knew it was Mark. You opened the door slowly, and there he was, standing on the other side, his expression brightening for a brief moment until his gaze flickered past you and landed on Jaemin.
His face fell, the hurt in his eyes very visible as disappointment painted his face, the same disappointment you had when you saw him with his ex. Mark's mouth pressed into a thin line, his hands flexing at his sides.
"I... didn't know you had company." He muttered, stepping back, his voice thick with shame.
"Mark wait—" You started, but he shook his head, glancing between you and Jaemin.
"Looks like I'm interrupting something." he said, his voice low. "I'll leave you two to it."
Before you could say another word, Mark turned and walked away. You stood there, breathless, closing, but waiting, just incase he came back to give you a chance to explain.
"What the fuck is going on between you two?" Jaemin's voice cut through the silence.
You turned back to him, looking numbly as you stayed silent.
"Weren't you just dating? What happened." He asked, obviously being unserious, giggling at his own comment.
You sighed, "We broke up." You murmured, opening the front door, signaling Jaemin to leave.
"... Do you seriously like him?" Jaemin asked, looking at you with a face of disdain.
You took a deep breath. "Jaemin get out."You said lowly, closing your eyes, trying to keep your composure as Jaemin made his way to the door.
Before he left out the door, he stopped, facing you, a smug look on his face as he raised his brow. "Can't say that I'm surprised, I've had a feeling even before we got together." He scoffed, rolling his eyes before walking out the door.
You shut it behind him, taking a deep breath before sliding down the door, your legs too weak to stand. Everything you held in, what begged to be let out finally released. You sobbed heavily, wondering where it all went wrong. Your heart ached, feeling like it was torn out your torso and ripped in half, feeling the weight of the emptiness that settled in after Mark left. It made you feel more lost than you had before. How did you lose everything all at once? Whatever was there with you and Mark, it felt like it slipped away, just when it had started to feel real.
────୨ৎ────
The days that followed your argument with Mark were unbearable. You hadn't spoken to him since, and that silence pressed down on you more than you had expected. You were heartbroken, not just because of the confusion and hurt surrounding the kiss, but because you missed him— like a lot. You missed the effortless connection, the late night talks and sleepovers, and the way things used to be before everything got complicated.
You stopped going out with the group, preferring to stay at home alone. Every notification from the group chat was a reminder of all the things that went wrong. You couldn't face Jaemin or anyone really, not with Mark lingering in your thoughts, every memory of him reopening the wound. From what you heard Mark wasn't showing up to anything either. It wasn't just you who was isolated, but that only made things worse. He had been your rock, your best friend, and now you didn't know where you stood with him at all. It felt like you two ruined each other.
You thought about texting him, just something small to break the silence, but every time you opened the message app, you'd freeze. What would you even say? How could you explain the mess in your head when you couldn't even understand it yourself?
You were curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV, the sound nothing more than white noise in your brain. Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, but you ignored it, not having the energy to engage with anyone. The loneliness was suffocating, but reaching out felt impossible.
Then, there was a knock at the door.
You sat up, your heart immediately quickening. For a moment you wondered if it could be him, but you quickly brushed that thought aside. Why would he show up now, after all this time? You shuffled to the door, your fingers hesitant on the handle before pulling it open.
And there he was... Mark. He stood there, looking hesitant, his hands stuffed in his pockets. For a second, neither of you said anything, the staggered memories of the past few weeks hanging in the air.
"Mark..." you breathed, your voice shaky. You weren't sure if it was relief or anxiety.
He gave you a small, awkward smile. "Hey Y/n."
The awkward tension stretched between you, and you struggled to form words. Mark looked down at his feet, then back up at you with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.
"Uh, Jaemin... Jaemin told me something the other day." He stated, and your stomach dropped at the mention of his name. "He said that... you liked me. Like, really liked me."
You froze, your heart slamming in your chest. He knew...
You were gonna kill Jaemin the next time you saw him, what is his problem with you, he's acting like you're the one who broke up with him, but before you said anything, Mark spoke again, his eyes widened, as if realizing he'd let the truth slip out too soon.
"Shit. I—I wasn't supposed to say that." He stammered, running a hand through his hair nervously.
"I mean, it's not like I didn't already... feel like something was there, but it's just—look, can I come in? We need to talk."
You stood there for a moment, stunned and unsure of how to respond. The vulnerability of having your feelings laid bare like this was terrifying, but there was a desperation in Mark's eyes that tugged at your heart. You stepped aside, nodding slightly, and he walked in, his presence both a comfort and a source of even more confusion.
You closed the door behind him, trying to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen. The silence felt heavy as you both sat down, neither knowing quite how to begin.
Mark's gaze softened as he looked at you, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet but sincere.
"I'm sorry, Y/n. For everything."
────୨ৎ────
The silence between you and Mark stretched on as you both sat there, the weight of all the unsaid words finally crashing down. Your heart was pounding and you could barely bring yourself to look at him. There had been so many moments, so many times when you wanted to tell him the truth, but fear had always kept you from doing it, but now, with him sitting right there, you knew you couldn't hide anymore.
Mark exhaled, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He opened his mouth to speak, then stopped like he didn't know where to begin. You couldn't take it anymore, the tension building, the raw ache inside your chest that had been growing for weeks. You swallowed hard, finally speaking.
"I've always liked you Mark." You said, your voice trembling. His eyes snapped to yours, wide with surprise. "I've liked you for so long... but after the first time, after you chose her I had to move on. I couldn't sit around waiting for something that was never going to happen."
Mark's brows furrowed, like he was trying to process your words. "Wait... what do you mean?"
"Mark—" You giggled, but it came out more as a sigh. "I gave up when I realized you didn't like me back. That's what hurts the most. I've spent so long hiding how I feel, pretending that I was fine being your friend when all I wanted was for you to look at me the way you looked at her." You said, looking down, fidgeting with your fingernails.
"But Y/n... I did like you. Like a lot. I thought you and Jaemin were—" He stopped, fumbling for words. "I didn't think I even had a chance with you."
You let out a laugh. "You didn't think you had a chance? Mark, I've been right here, the entire time. You're the one who didn't see me. Or maybe you just didn't want to."
"That's not true," Mark said quickly, his eyes full of regret. "I saw you, Y/n. I've always seen you, but I thought you didn't think of me in that way. That's why I got with her and when we broke up, you and Jaemin started dating."
You looked away, unable to hold his gaze. "I love Jaemin," you admitted, your voice quiet. "But I can't lie and say that he wasn't a distraction... from you." You said, turning to him.
Mark seemed to flinch at your words, like they hit him deeper than he expected. "A distraction?" He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded. "It was easier, you know? To focus on Jaemin and have a crush on him instead, to tell myself that I'd moved on, but every time I saw you with her, every time you chose her, it broke something inside me. I couldn't take it anymore."
Mark's face twisted with emotion, a mix of sorrow and frustration. "I never meant to choose her over you, Y/n. I didn't even realize that's what I was doing. You were always the one I went to, the one I trusted. But I was an idiot, and I didn't see what was right in front of me."
The room was heavy with your words as you sighed, trying to push past the knot tightening in your chest. "It's ok. I guess it doesn't matter anymore. I'm glad we cleared the air so we can go back to being friends like we used to be."
You gave him a small smile, hoping it would ease the tension, but the moment the words left your lips, you could sense a shift in the air. Mark stiffened beside you, his body language betraying the discomfort your words had caused. He stared at you for a long, quiet second, and something in his gaze made you nervous. His usual easy going smile was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead with an expression that was difficult to read.
The room fell into a thick, uncomfortable silence. His leg was bouncing restlessly, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, like he was desperate to say something, but couldn't m find the words.
"But—" he mumbled, biting his lip nervously as his gaze remained on anything but you.
You blinked at him, confusion rippling through you. "But what?" you asked softly, your voice filled with curiosity and a bit of hope. You felt your heart rate pick up as you waited, suddenly aware of how close he was sitting.
Mark hesitated, his leg bouncing even faster now. He was clearly battling with himself, trying to decide if he should let the words out or hold them in. Finally, he took a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be your friend."
Your heart stopped. For a moment, you were certain you had misheard him. Your mind raced to process what he had just said, but the confusion only grew stronger. "Well then... I guess we're done here, aren't we?" you replied, your voice cracking as the emotions bubbled up.
Mark's eyes widened in panic, and for the first time, he looked genuinely shaken. He swallowed hard, trying to gather himself. "No, that's not what I mean." He said quickly, his hand reaching out slightly toward you but then pulling back before he made contact.
You tilted your head, watching him as his leg bounced even faster, his fingers now anxiously twisting his sleeve. His lips parted as if to say something, then closed again. The tension in the air was unbearable.
Finally, Mark's voice broke the silence, low and trembling. "I want to be more than friends Y/n..."
Your breath hitched. You weren't sure you had heard him correctly at first. Is Mark finally saying the thing you had waited to hear for so long? You stared at him full of disbelief, searching his face for any sign of a joke or hesitation. But there was none—his expression was completely serious.
He avoided your gaze, clearly nervous as he spoke again, his voice quiet. "I like you a lot Y/n. Even after all this time, I still do. I never stopped... I just—" He let out a shaky breath and finally looked you in the eyes.
"Do you still... like me?" he asked softly, his voice barely audible, and for the first time, you saw fear behind his eyes—fear of rejection, fear of ruining whatever was left between you.
Your throat tightened, and for a moment, you couldn't speak. Your feelings, the ones you had buried for so long, were rising to the surface again. The air thick with tension, you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you searched for the right words.
Finally, you nodded, slowly at first, then faster. "I do... I do still like you...so much." You whispered, the confession slipping from your lips before you could stop it. The moment the words left your mouth, you felt relief, like you were finally free of the weight that had been pressing down on you for so long.
Mark's face lit up at your words, his eyes shining with disbelief. He looked like he could hardly believe what he was hearing.
"You do?" he asked, his voice full of hope and vulnerability.
You nodded again, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "I've always liked you Mark. Even when I tried to move on, even when I was with Jaemin... it was always you."
Mark's breath hitched, reaching out, his hand gently brushing against yours. His touch was hesitant, like he was afraid you might pull away, but you didn't. You laced your fingers with his, holding onto him like you were afraid to let go.
"Do you... do you want to be with me?" he asked, his voice trembling as his hand tightened around yours.
Your lip trembled, and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. This was everything you had ever wanted, everything you had dreamed of. But now that it was here, it felt overwhelming.
Instead of answering with words, you pulled him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around him as you buried your face in his shoulder. His scent was familiar, comforting, and you held onto him like you were gonna lose him.
Mark's arms wrapped around you just as tightly as he held you close. For a minute, neither of you said anything, just holding each other in silence.
Finally, you pulled back, cupping his face in your hands as you looked into his eyes, your heart was pounding in your chest.
"Yes," you whispered, a smile breaking across your face as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. "I want to be with you."
Before he could respond, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that felt like it was years in the making. His lips were soft against yours, warm and gentle.
The kiss deepened, slow and tender. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right. There was no pretending, no hiding. It was just you and him, finally together, finally where you were supposed to be.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and a little dizzy, you looked at him with a smile. "We finally have each other, for real this time." You whispered.
Mark smiled back at you, his eyes full of love and warmth. "Yeah..." he said softly, pulling you close again. "We do."
────୨ৎ────
The evening was filled with laughter, You and Mark were sitting close, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair, a soft smile never leaving his face as he glanced at you every so often.
The group had decided on a night in, just movies, snacks, and a lot of catching up. It felt like old times again, but better—because this time, you had Mark by your side in a way you'd never had before. Every time your hands brushed, every shared glance, you felt your heart flutter.
Jaemin, of course, wasn't letting the night pass without teasing. He smirked at the two of you as he leaned back into the couch. "Look at them" he rolled his eyes playfully, nudging someone beside him. "Lovebirds. It's like they've been together all this time. Who would've thought?"
You laughed, rolling your eyes but feeling no need to defend yourself this time.
Mark chuckled, his thumb brushing your arm lightly. "Man, it took us long enough."
Jaemin raised an eyebrow, pretending to be shocked. "Took you long enough? More like I had to shove you two together. Where's my matchmaking credit?"
The group laughed, and for a moment, everything just felt light, but the teasing wasn't quite over.
"So, Jaemin…" one of the others piped up, a mischievous grin spreading across their face. "You've been all about these smart remarks tonight... anything you want to tell us?"
Jaemin's face immediately flushed. "W-What? Me? Nah I'm just here for the drama, you know that." He said, waving it off.
"Sure…" The smirk on their face grew even wider. "Except, we've noticed you've been spending an awful lot of time with someone lately."
You perked up at that, exchanging a glance with Mark. She sat quietly on the other side of the room, raising her eyebrows in surprise, her cheeks turning pink.
Jaemin opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was speechless for once.
Everyone burst into laughter. Jaemin couldn't stop himself from cracking a smile as he shook his head in defeat. "You guys are unbelievable."
Mark leaned over, whispering in your ear, "Guess we're not the only ones who needed a push, huh?"
“Mark Ive been known about it.” You grinned, speaking purposely loud so everyone could turn to you.
“How?” Jaemin asked, raising his eyebrow as everyone looked at you with questioning eyes.
“She was the only one who wasn’t curious about why Me and Mark were holding hands when I was still with Jaemin. She knew about the break up before any of you knew.” You answered causing everyone to raise their eyebrows in realization.
“Dude… wait you’re right.” Mark added, looking at you with a small smile.
“Oops…” Jaemin responded, everyone laughing at the squeak in his voice.
As the night carried on, you found yourself taking little moments just to breathe in the atmosphere, to hold onto this feeling.
Every smile he gave you, every gentle touch, was like a stitch pulling the pieces to your heart back together. The pain you'd carried for so long was fading. Mark was helping you become whole again.
For the first time in a long time everything felt right and as you sat there, surrounded by laughter and love, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
And as you looked around the room—at the friends who had stuck with you, at the boy who had once been your closest friend and was now so much more, you realized something.
You were finally happy.
Oh yeah… and his ex left the friend group! Xoxo
#nct x reader#nct#nct fanfic#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct fic#nct mark#nct 127#mark lee angst#mark lee#mark lee x reader#mark lee fluff#nct 127 angst#nct 127 fluff#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#nct 127 x reader#mark lee oneshot#nct oneshot#nct dream oneshot#bjnet
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Her. (E. W.)
Summary: Ellie joins you in your room during your brother's party.
Warnings (18+ MDNI): smut, swearing, fingering (r!receiving), cum eating (sort of), drinking, smoking, porn w/ some plot, bbf!ellie, loser!ellie. lmk if I missed any!!!
Word count: 1.7k
A/n: my first smut!!! So sorry if this sucks lmaooo
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
It was a hot and humid summer night. That sizzling summer day was your brother's choice for a party. His friends were all gathered in the backyard, sipping on buzz-balls and inexpensive tequila shots. To be honest, you wanted to ditch this and curl up with your favorite rom-com instead, but you didn't. Your brother made the effort to persuade you to assist with setup, stay, and speak with the guys who were obviously watching you. It fucking sucked.
Especially since she was here. The only person you didn’t mind stealing glances from. Your brother's best friend for the past five years.
She had no idea how much she meant to you. Her teasing, the looks up and down, and the shivers you felt when she called your name.
Occasionally, she would catch you staring, her green eyes meeting yours, but she would ignore it. The girl she was talking to seemed to be blocking her, making it seem impossible for you to get close to her. Watching the girl drool over Ellie. Fuck.
Just brush it off. As you stood up from your seat to grab your next tequila shot, you rolled your eyes.
You made it to the table filled with alcohol. The moment you had a full shot glass in your hand, you hurried off. Jerking back your head as you sense the liquid burning in your throat. Fuck this boring shit.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Heading for your room, you walked somberly back into your home's solitude. You changed out of the dress you were wearing and put on an oversized crewneck and sleep shorts. As you tuck yourself into bed, there is a knock at the door.
You come to halt. In the hopes that they would go away if you said nothing.
"Come on, I know you are in there." Ellie continued, pounding on your door once more. "Alright, Fuck, I'm coming." When you open the door, Ellie's hands are tucked into the pockets of her sweat pants.
“Can I come in?” Softly, Ellie said. "Why not," and you opened the door to let her in. Trailing closely behind her, you shut the door. In silence, the two of you sat awkwardly on the edge of your bed.
"So what's up-" you begin, but Ellie cuts you off. "I'm sorry for bothering you. It's just so fucking boring out there."
"I was done with it, too, but you seemed real cozy with that blonde chick." You drew your arms across your chest. "Meh, she’s not really my type." She looked at you, waiting for a response of some kind.
The tension was thick. What the hell is she doing to make you feel this way? Her gorgeous brown freckles glistened in the warm light from your room, like stars. Her emerald eyes scrutinize, even torment you. Her lips tinged with saliva as she licked them.
"Listen, if and only if you smoke with me, I will get out of your hair." reaching into her hoodie pocket and removing a rolled joint. It was too soon to decline the offer. So you took it. Taking the joint from her grip and the lighter from your bedside table.
"don't gotta ask me twice." As you lit the joint, you smiled. Breathing in all the smoke, you held it in until your lungs began to burn before exhaling it. With her eyes fixed on you, Ellie observed you. You give her the joint.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
It didn't take long for it to hit. Your eyes darkened to a pale pink hue. Ellies' cheeks the same hue. All of a sudden, everything seemed more genuine. The way Ellie observed you and the rhythm of your heartbeat. At once, it encompassed everything.
"I missed hanging out with you." Ellie said, her eyes heavy as she met yours. It was like you could feel everything all at once. The muffled sounds of the 'sex playlist' played from outside. With the joint still burning, a haze of smoke filled the room. Having her here with you, you felt complete.
"Hey, do you want to try something?" Breaking the stillness was Ellie's raspy voice. "Like what?" you laugh. "Just trust me," Ellie says, grabbing the joint.
Her large hand lands on your jaw, gently pressing against it. Breathlessly, you said, "Els, what are you doing?" She disregarded you and took a long drag on the joint, holding it in her mouth rather than inhaling. Her lips found yours as she leaned in. You take a deep breath as your instinct takes over. She and all the smoke combined. It was intoxicating.
She began to back away, but you stopped her by holding onto her wrist, which was resting on your cheek, and drew her back in. You were so eager to feel her again that your nose bumped hers. With her other hand on the back of your neck, her calloused hand found the base of your neck and gripped it. Her full pink lips moved in unison with yours. Her tongue slowly possessing each crevice of your mouth.
She was a fantastic kisser. No guy you have ever kissed has been this good. You both drew back, trying to catch your breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Fuck Els” as you leaned on each other's foreheads.
"I want you." Her hot breath teased your face as she whispered it. Pushing her back, you wrapped your thighs around hers. She took hold of the fat of your ass and began kneading it like dough. It’s driving you crazy.
Her wet mouth latched onto the frail skin on your jawline leading down to your collar bone. All that could be heard were Ellie's labored breathing and the whines and whimpers that were dripping from your throat as she sucked and nibbled until bruises were left.
It was filthy. So filthy. But all you wanted was more. You can feel the slick pooling between your thighs as her hands indulged your body's curves. You gazed up at her, grinding into the seat of her lap. Her mullet cut hair fell perfectly on her face. Her eyes were dark like a gem, so full of lust that you could feel her crumbling beneath you.
Ellie grabs your hips and drives you deeper into her as you grind onto her clothed sex. She knows how badly you want this.
"What are you doing, hmm?" Ellie lets out a groan. Her cold veiny hand caresses the sliver of skin between your shorts and sweatshirt. "Ellie, please." You take her hand in yours and guide it up your stomach, stopping at the mounds of your naked tits. Her lips parted slightly as she felt the hard buds under her rough hands. You lift the hem of your shirt over your head, revealing yourself to her. She immediately gnaws at your tits, groaning from the sensation of you.
Your hands become entangled in her auburn hair, drawing her in as close as possible. You are pathetically wet for her. Your cunt aches for her. Ellie slid her hand up to the hem of your shorts, teasing her finger against your smooth skin. “Can I?” She asked roughly. You eagerly nod your head.
She pulls the thin fabric of your shorts down your thighs. "Fuck you are so wet," she says, her mouth watering at the slick glistening on your thighs. You cut her off by grabbing her hoodie and pulling it over her head. She held you skin to skin, sliding her middle finger down to your puffy clit. Rubbing small circles on it as you grind harder into her hand. Dragging her long digit to your aching hole, dipping the tip in and out ever so slightly. You can’t help but moan.
She puts her other hand around your neck and squeezes, not too hard, but just enough to break you. Her calloused, thick finger slides into your cunt. The pressure on your neck causes your pussy to throb around her finger.
"You are so fucking tight, babe, want me to fuck you with my fingers?" She says with clenched teeth. Ellie’s boxers felt tight around her thighs, probably soaking through her sweatpants just from watching you. She sloshes her finger deep inside your pussy dragging it against your gummy walls. You moan feeling her reach deeper in you. Pulling the slick coated finger out she lines up her ring finger to your hole joining her middle one. She kept her eyes on your pussy watching it stretch around the width of her digits.
“Oh fuck Ellie” you throw your head back feeling the pit of your stomach burn with arousal. You sink fully on her fingers pressing so hard you feel the hill of her palm on your clit. You let out a throaty whine and gasp as she pulls in and out, fucking you deep, hitting that ever-so-sensitive spot in you.
“There it is.” She murmured as she pounded her palm into your pussy. Her mouth finds your tits again, sucking on the peak of your nipple. Your jaw goes slack as she moves against you. "Mmmph fuck Els," you whimper.
"Cum for me. Cum right on my fingers." Ellie mumbles out. Your walls clench around her hand. Ellie grabs your jaw with her free hand and pulls you into a wet kiss. Riding her hand you moan into her mouth.
You inhale sharply. “Ellie I’m cumming”. As she fucks into you and rides out your orgasm, a whine escapes your mouth. She doesn’t pull out of you until you’re all spent. Her fingers pruned from your release. Raising them to her lips, she inserts them. She moans, sucking off your slick. "Tastes so fucking good"
Your thighs tremble around her waist as you give her another hungry kiss. She draws you in by roughly holding your hips with her hands. A knock interrupts your passionate kiss.
"Ellie, are you in here?" Your brother questioned from outside of the door. Oh fuck. You rush away from Ellie, finding your sleep shorts and a random shirt, while Ellie finds her own shirt. Once settled Ellie opens the door.
"You all okay?" Ellie's pink cheeks and the hickeys on your neck catch his attention. She brushed her auburn hair down with her fingers.
"mhm yeah, why?" she responds. "Ellie was just wondering why I left the party," you say.
"I need a partner for beer pong, we are about to play," he says. "All right, I am heading back down," Ellie says, turning to face you. "Okay, guys, have fun," you say as you watch them walk away.
You sink back into your bed. I am in way too deep.
#Ellie Williams#tlou#tlou2#ellie tlou#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#i need her#woman of the year#bbf!ellie#brothers best friend
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How about Aegon and twin sister after death of jaehaeryss he needs to ahve another heir but he doesn't want to have one with heleana. he wants you
Request: Aegon and twin sister being in love but he married Helaena instead and wants YOU to have his babiess and be the next conqueror
Warning: mention of pregnancy, mention of child death,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
After the murder of Jaehaerys, things changed inside the keep. Aegon enforced the security and diminished the number of people who were allowed inside Maegor's Holdfast. His family lived there, he didn't want a repeat of what happened to his little son. And he didn't let you, his darling twin sister, although capable of defending yourself, go anywhere without your sworn protector.
Aegon was in pain by the death of his little son, and he was hurting for Heleana who had to witness such a horrific act, but if these rat catchers would have come to your chambers, if they would have harmed you, Aegon would have gone completely mad.
There was nothing in the world that Aegon cared more about, loved more, than you. You were his other half, a part of him. You grew together in the same womb.
If you had married Aegon instead of Helaena, he would have had no difficulty performing his duties. You would possibly have many children by now. You were the right choice, his darling twin sister. You were the one he wanted to warm his bed at night. You were the one he wanted to stand beside when he would get crowned.
But your grandsire, Otto, didn’t allow the betrothal. He pressed to the King for Helaena, claiming she was more suitable and would balance his depravity. It was all bullshit. Otto wanted her on the throne because she was more malleable and manipulable than you. Unlike Helaena, you could see through his webs and plottings.
You were fresh out of your bath when you received a knock on your door. The hour was late, making you wonder who it could be. You tightened your robe, making sure it covered your body as modestly as it could, and allowed the servant to come in.
‘’What is it, Dyana?’’ you asked, hissing as your handmaiden brushed through a knot in your hair. Could she be more delicate?
She stepped in, dressed in her red dress and earth colored apron. ‘’The King is requesting your presence in his chamber, Princess.’’
You tried your best to conceal your confusion.
Tonight, per the small council’s request, Aegon was supposed to summon Helaena to his chamber and impregnate her with a new heir. Two moons had passed since he lost his heir…and another was needed. Aegon had informed you of the duty in the afternoon after meeting with his small council. He was not happy about it, preferring to bed you, but Helaena was the one he was wed to.
Ser Aeron followed you to the King’s chambers, taking place beside Aegon’s guard standing outside the door after you stepped inside, as they have been doing for the past two months. Assigning a sworn protector at your door wasn’t enough for Aegon, he also requested you sleep in his bed, refusing to close his eyes unless he could feel you next to him.
You stepped into the solar with careful steps and alert eyes, not wishing to walk in on your sister and Aegon having sex. You understood and respected that it was part of their duties, but you could not be a spectator.
‘’She’s not here,’’ Aegon’s voice echoed through the large space. He came into view, his breeches half unlaced and his tunic untucked. ‘’I sent Helaena back to her chambers.’’
That was fast, you couldn’t help but think.
‘’We didn’t fuck,’’ he said bluntly, pouring wine into a cup, then a second — for you.
‘’What do you mean?’’
Aegon handed you the other cup while taking a sip of his own. ‘’I didn’t put my cock in her cu—’’
You shot him a look, cutting him off. It was not what you meant. ‘’What of your royal duties? Your small council is demanding a new heir.’’
‘’I’ll give them one.’’ Aegon pulled you closer and pressed his palm over your empty stomach, right where a babe should grow. ‘’We’ll give them one.’’
The sincere look in his violet eyes told you he was not jesting. He would never jest about having children with you, he’s dreamed of it for so long. To see you beautiful and swollen with his babe.
Your mother would be furious. She knew of your and Aegon’s adventures behind closed doors and warned you about the consequences of not taking moon tea after he spilled his seed inside you. The shame it would bring upon the family.
‘’Aegon, we can’t—’’
‘’We can. I’m the King, I take the decisions now.’’ He caressed your stomach, imagining a babe inside. ‘’No more tea,’’ he murmured, pressing his forehead against you, repeating himself. ‘’No more moon tea.’’
‘’What of Helaena?’’ you asked, fighting the smile that was trying to curl on your lips.
Although Aegon didn’t share any romantic love for his younger sister — and neither did she —, to the eyes of the Sevens, she was still his wife.
His lips turned into a grin. ‘’The Conqueror had two wives. I wear his crown, don’t I? I can too.’’
—
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#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon the second#king aegon#house of the dragon#aegon ii x reader#hotd#hotd aegon
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BOUND, c.springer
chap.2 | drinking, smoking, mild controlling | chap.1
“girllll. if youn get over him.”
sasha blurted out with a huff. mikasa was sitting on the other side of you, sipping her drink and shaking her head at sasha.
“nobody can get over somebody they actually liked that easy. ion know why you liked him anyway i mean… he’s… ugly.” she rested her elbow on the counter.
“he’s reiner, of course he ugly.” sasha took her shot before waving over the bouncer.
“you talk too damn much.” mikasa pointed at sasha, making her hold her hand up in defense before paying for her next drink. then she looked at you. “look, just go find somebody else. like…” she looked around the club.
“his homeboy.” sasha raised her eyebrows with a grin.
you smiled with an idea but shook your head. “ian that dirty.” you reapplied your lipgloss with a small mirror, rubbing your lips together.
“shit you better than me…”
“sasha.” mikasa shook her head and rolled her eyes. “just go out and find somebody-”
“you got his name covered up?” sasha smiled and grabbed your arm. “for real?” mikasa raised her brows while sipping her drink, looking at your arm. right beneath your elbow was two roses with details around them.
“oh yeah.” you looked at your arm and tilted your head.
“ion even remember who did it. or when it happened. at all.” you lightly laughed.
“girl what the hell was you doin last week?” mikasa frowned.
“told reiner to drop me off, ain’t even go to my house and all i remember is walking to the shop.” you shook your head. as the bouncer passed by, you waved at him.
“three shots.”
“of?”
“your choice.” you smiled.
he nodded. “i’ll be right back.”
that’s when you felt someone put their arm across your shoulder. “long time no see.” someone said in your ear. never thought you’d hear that voice again.
“reiner, what you want?” you squinted and shook your head.
“i can’t be nice?” he frowned, tapping your shoulder a little.
“she obviously don’t wanna talk to you.” sasha raised her eyebrow, turning towards you two. reiner glanced at sasha, then mikasa, who was giving him the same look.
“let’s just… talk alone.” he stood back a little. “please.”
you slowly inhaled, held it, and then exhaled. when the bouncer handed you your shots, you downed two, paused, then took the last one.
“okay.” you tapped the counter with the cup, signaling sasha and mikasa to keep your watch, them clearing their throats as an okay.
you hopped off the counter and let his lead you to a corner of the club. “so you got my name covered up.” he scoffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. you stared up at him with bored eyes. “what you really want?”
“to see why you ain’t been answering my messages. or calls. tryna see why you act like youn know nobody.” he tilted his head at you.
you crossed your arms while continuing to stare at him. “did that other woman know you had a girlfriend when she was feelin on you?” you tilted your head back at him.
“you act like that was cheating. it wasn’t. you just bein dramatic at this point.”
“oh, outta all the dumb shit you done said, that’s the worst.”
“i’m tryna make things right and you bein stubborn. you wonder why we can’t talk things out.” reiner looked to the side in annoyance.
“maybe ion wanna talk things out because there’s nothing to talk out. cheating ain’t justified so ain’t no reason in wasting yo breath tryna make me forgive you.” you shrugged, arms still crossed.
one thing you’d never do is give in to somebody asking for forgiveness for something they knew was wrong. and when is cheating an accident? reiners rarely drunk, and you don’t have a twin sister.
“maybe you just insecure. her rubbing on my arm isn’t justified as cheating.”
you paused for a moment, processing what dumb shit he said to you this time.
“insecure?” you scoffed and shook your head, looking around as if there was a crowd watching this act. and he was the damn clown.
“man, lemme tell you sum. you’ll never catch me bein insecure about myself bout another bitch. i promise. another thing, ion wanna talk nothing out with you because ain’t shit to talk about. now you can sit here and lie to yo damn self if you want to, but at the end of the day, no is no. ion wanna be wit you. ion wanna talk to you. we done. stop texting me and stop calling me, i won’t answer. point blank.” you looked him in his eyes to let him know you were dead serious about everything you just said.
for him to even assume you’re insecure of another bitch. crazy work. you never showed a sign of it, you never even showed jealousy, so how the fuck could you be labeled as insecure?
all because you didn’t wanna forgive him for something he did— something he caused. crazy work.
you felt yourself getting drunker by the second, so you had no choice but to go back to where sasha and mikasa was.
“can we-“
“finallyyy. how’d the talk go?” sasha questioned as soon as you made it back. “a buncha bullshit.” you pursed your lips together and glanced around.
“girl-“ mikasa started before her phone dinged. “oh. eren want us to come over there.” she smiled at her phone.
sasha fake gagged. “you one simp ass girl.” she raised her lip in a disgusted way.
“oh but when it’s about niccolo…” mikasa tilted her head. “alright.” sasha rolled her eyes playfully and hopped off the stool.
the three of you made your way over to where the rest of the group was. “what i was sayin, reiner don’t know what the hell he be talkin bout half of the time. so… to be honest, block him. and move on to the next. mikasa shrugged while making her way through the crowd.
“i’m not finna be worried bout his ass nomo. ion got time.” you mumbled as she finally found where the rest of the group was.
you didn’t really hang around the rest of the group, other than eren and armin. since two groups came together to make one, and you were originally apart of eren, mikasa, and armin. you didn’t really know the rest.
“hey.” you spoke to everyone with a friendly wave.
so awkward of you.
everybody spoke back. mikasa sat beside eren who put his arm around her. sasha sat by jean, who started picking with her at soon as she touched the couch.
you looked around for somewhere to sit, but the groups so damn big, there wasn’t even really space for you.
that’s when you saw someone slide over and glance at you while rolling a blunt. he looked so familiar, but you couldn’t get the picture on who he was in your head.
that buzzcut. and the ear piercing that you didn’t even notice until now.
whatever.
you sat between him and someone else. ony, yeah, that’s his name. or his nickname. “thank you.” you mumbled, putting your hands in your lap and rubbing your lipgloss in, having nothing else to do or talk about.
“you good.”
his voice was so familiar.
“i get so tired of y’all mu’fuckas. i mean every day y’all be hugged up. don’t nobody wanna see that shit.” jean squinted at mikasa and eren.
“shut the fuck up you just mad don’t nobody want yo ass.” eren held his finger up at jean. everybody laughed and jean smacked his lips. “man connie where my blunt? befo i do sum to all these rats.” jean frowned and leaned back.
connie…
connie…?
“where my money?” connie glanced up at jean, dabbing the blunt with his tongue.
“yeen even ask for it!”
“what you asked me before?” connie glanced up again, flicking his lighter.
“where my blunt man.” jean groaned.
“yeen even ask for it.” connie put the blunt to his lips, lighting it, while sitting the weed tray on the table.
connie…
that name repeated in your mind for about three whole minutes, you getting lost in space tryna remember where the hell you know him from.
while those three minutes passed, the whole group talked, connie scrolling on his phone. he glanced at you for a second before taking the blunt from his lips.
“wanna hit?” he exhaled.
you snapped out of your daydreaming and looked up at him for a few seconds. the stare held as you examined his face, too drunk to realize you were even staring. “mhm.” you nodded.
he was tryna pass you the blunt, but you being wasted, didn’t even realize it. you just kept looking at his face.
and his tattoos.
that’s when he put his phone down and held the blunt to where you could hit it from his hand.
you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, holding it for a minute before exhaling. all while looking in his eyes.
“you like that?” he slowly started to smile, looking at your lips as you smiled you nodded.
“you want it?” he bit his lip. you nodded again, grabbing the blunt and hitting it again.
good shit.
you almost forgot all about the name.
oh, the name.
“that tattoo look good. who did it?” armin leaned up to see your tattoo more.
“connie.” you answered mindlessly. you didn’t even know what you were talking about at this point.
connie looked at you and laughed a little.
chap.3
#𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚕𝚞𝚟𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎₊✩ˎˊ˗#aot connie#connie springer#connie springer x black reader#connie springer x reader#connie x black reader#connie x you#connie springer headcanons#connie x black y/n#connie x reader#aot oneshots#aot x reader#aot x black reader#aot x y/n#aot x you#aot x female reader#aot x black y/n#aot x poc!reader
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Enemies to more than friends? 18+
Reader x Alexia Putellas
Warning: Smut, make up sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, multiple Creampies, blowjob, throat pie, anal, cum shot, got job, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, leg trapping, reader doming Alexia, Alexia receiving, positions: Missionary, Doggy and on side
Word count: 2.8k
*Alexia's pov*
9 months ago
Barca vs Arsenal, the game was 1-1, I had scored our goal until Y/n scored the equalizer for Arsenal. I get the ball and run with it up field, I wind up my leg ready to take the shot for our next goal. I feel a boot go into my leg, I immediately scream in pain and drop to the ground. I grabbed my knee in pain, pain is never felt before.
"I'm so sorry, Alexia I slipped." I heard a voice, it was Y/n.
*Y/n's Pov*
Before I knew it I had slipped trying to get the ball from Alexia. My foot rolling through and making contact with her leg.
"I'm so sorry, Alexia I slipped." I said immediately.
I watched Alexia drop to the ground in pain and gripping her leg. The feeling I felt knowing I did that, I was the one who made Alexia feel the pain she was feeling. The feeling of guilt running through me.
*9 months later* Alexia's Pov*
I wrack my weights after I finish my rep. My phone pings letting me know I had a new text message, I was working out in my gym at home. I was working out in just my sports bra and shorts, I grab my phone and check it and see that I have a new text message from my best friend Aitana Bonmati.
Aitana: Hey did you hear that we are getting a new player?
Me: No who is it?
Aitana: you're the captain and haven't been told that we are getting a new player.
Me: I'm the last person to find out about shit.
Aitana: It's a new player from Arsenal... her name is Y/n L/n.
My heart drops as she tells me this. Y/n and I have history, she injured me and fucked up my leg the last game we Played them so I've been in rehab and getting stronger and doing therapy. Finally after 9 months I was getting ready to get back on the field and now she wants to ruin it by joining the club.
Me: You serious? Aitana that's the girl that injured my leg the last time we played Arsenal.
Aitana: I know, I'm just as annoyed as you are. But there's nothing we can do about it, it's done and it's happened.
Aitana was right. The news had broken everywhere, Y/n was no part of Barca. I now had to face the person who caused the pain I've had to carry around everyday for the last 9 months.
*Next Day*
Arriving into camp, my only thought was avoiding Y/n that was until I spotted her making her way over to me from the corner of my eye.
"Alexia I just wanted to sa-"
I cut her off. "Save it Y/n. Just leave me alone." I spat out immediately walking away not wanting to hear anything else she had to say.
We get our assigned rooms, we grab our things and go up to our rooms. Thankfully we lucked out and didn't have roommates this camp so we had a whole room to ourselves for this camp.
It was around 10 pm, I didn't run into Y/n again after she tried to talk to me. I'm interrupted as there's a sudden knock on my door. I open the door to the last person I wanted to see.
"There's been a leak in some of the rooms. Mine had a leak as well. Coach told me that I'm bunking with you the rest of camp, the other rooms are full." Y/n says with her belongings and bag in her hands.
"No, I don't share my room. I only have one bed." I spat out.
"Mhm I'm more annoyed as you. But I've got no choice." Y/n says.
"Don't talk to me or look at me." I say as I move to the side and let her in.
"Trust me, I don't give a fuck. Keep it club related." Y/n says walking past me.
Y/n gets settled in, without another word Y/n lays on the ground on her make shift bed she created as I lay in bed and turn off the light.
*Y/n's Pov*
I lay on the floor, my back hurting not being able to get comfy. "Get in the bed." I hear Alexia say.
"Thought you said there's only one bed? I'm good on the floor." I say as I lay there staring at the ceiling.
"There is only one bed you idiot, get in the bed before you fuck up your back and before I change my mind." Alexia says.
I sigh and give in, I get up and join Alexia in the bed. I lay facing her looking at her body. I could feel myself getting hard as I check out her ass in her panties, her ass slightly swallowing her panties.
"What are you moving around for?" Alexia whispers.
"Sorry just struggling to get comfortable." I say.
Little did I know that Alexia could see the tent in my boxers. "Go to the bathroom." Alexia says.
"Yeah." I huff. "I'll sort it out." I get up and go to the bathroom. 10 minutes passed and nothing was working I was still hard and throbbing even more, I really needed to cum. 10 minutes of jerking off and still nothing.
I groan to myself. "Y/n come here." I hear Alexia say.
I come out of the bathroom and come back into the room. "I'll help you but after that don't talk to me." Alexia says.
"O-Okay." I stutter a bit as I get back in bed. "You know Alexia..." she cuts me off.
"Y/n I don't want to hear it, We're going to do this and then we're not gonna speak again, got it?" Alexia says.
I nod in response, as Alexia slowly pulled down my shorts and boxers. My massive boner springs out, Alexia bites her lip as she checks out my 11 inch boner.
"Shit baby you're huge." Alexia whispered in slight shock as she spits on my dick taking it in her mouth.
She begins to bob her head slowly looking into my eyes. I moan and place my hand on the back of her head as she kept sucking going a bit faster.
"Fuck Alexia your mouth feels so good." I moaned as I lean my head back onto the head board.
She swirls her tongue around my tip as she kept sucking, playing with my balls with her other hand.
"Alexia... baby I really am sorry." I moan as she sped up bobbing her head faster than before.
She let my dick pop out of her mouth as she kissed my inner tight thigh with a smile.
"I know." She whispered as she takes my dick back in her mouth immediately deep throating me, causing me to become a moaning mess.
She looked into my eyes as she hums against my dick seeing the reaction she was getting from me.
"I'm going to cum buckets if you keep doing that baby." I moan and close my eyes.
I gripped the sheets with one hand. The other hand on the back of Alexia's head as she was making me closer and closer to cumming. My balls tighten as my dick hits the back of her throat.
"Fuck Alexia I...."
Throatpie:
I moan gripping Alexia's hair pushing her head further down on my cock as I explode inside her mouth. Sweat dripping down my forehead' my legs buckle and begin to shake. Alexia lifts her head up, swallowing my load.
"I'll forgive you, only on one condition." Alexia says.
"What's that?" I ask.
"You fuck me right now." Alexia says.
"Yes Ma'am." I smile. "I don't have a condom." I added.
"I don't care, I'm on a pill." She says as she climbs on top of me removing her shirt, red bra and panties.
Without saying anything else Alexia lines her entrance up with my dick as she dripping wet. I place my hands on her hips as I guide her down bottoming out inside her. She begins to pick up the pace sliding up and down on my dick. I move my hands from her hips down to her ass, gripping it tightly as I spank it.
"Fuck Alexia, you're gonna make me cum." I moaned as she sped up her tits bouncing up and down.
"Cum inside me daddy." Alexia moans.
Alexia sped up even more, her ass rippling against my thighs. Sweat dripping down her forehead, I couldn't take it anymore.
Creampie #1:
"Fuck Alexia." I shouted as cum begins oozing out of my dick filling her up to the brim.
"I feel so full." She moaned, she climbs off me and Bends over licking up the cum that had dripped onto my stomach.
"Are you still hard?" Alexia whispers.
"Yes, Yes I am. It's getting worse." I huffed.
Alexia lays in her back and lays In missionary, I bite my lip and rub my tip through her folds. Alexia bites her lip and quietly moans as I do this.
"Mmm stop teasing and just put it in." Alexia moans. "Mm I wanna feel you deep inside me."
Fuck Alexia was super wet, I bite my lip and slowly slide my dick inside her. I moan as her walls immediately clench around me, Alexia moans as she takes my length deep inside her.
"Mmm fuck Y/n... Y-You're really deep in there." Alexia moans.
Alexia moans and takes a moment to adjust to my size. "M-Move." She moans in pleasure. "Mmm fuck I thought you were big in my mouth but you feel even bigger inside me."
I smirk, and look at her. Our noses touching, Alexia leans in and kisses me deeply, I'm shocked at first but kiss back. We both moan in the kiss as I thrust in and out of her a bit faster.
We break the kiss when air becomes a problem. I rest my head against hers and look deep into her eyes as I thrust in and out of her faster.
My dick was throbbing, fuck I really needed a release. I moan and bite my lip as my precum leaks inside her letting her know that I'm close.
Alexia giggles. "Close to cumming daddy?" She smirks. "Good cause I'm bet letting you pull out." She wraps her legs around me and leg traps me so I can't pull out.
Alexia moans and watch my dick slide in and out of her. I moan and bite my lip as I feel her walls clench around me letting me know that she was close to cumming.
"Mmm someone close?" I ask seductively.
"I'm close baby, I'm gonna cum." Alexia moans.
"Let go baby, cum for daddy." I say.
Alexia moans in pleasure as I kiss her neck. I moan as I feel myself getting close to cumming. “Mmm I’m gonna squirt.” Alexia moans.
Alexia Moan and squirts all over my abs, my thighs and all over my dick and on the sheets. I smirk and keep going, I go at an angle and start hitting her g spot.
“Mmm fuck so tight and wet.” I moan, fuck her pussy felt like heaven.
My breathing gets heavier letting Alexia know that I was close to cumming. Alexia moans, and bites her lip and locks eyes with me.
“Yes, yes cum in me. Cum in me.” Alexia moans.
Creampie #2:
“Mmm F-Fuck.” I moan in pleasure.
Cum oozes and spurts inside her filling her to the brim. Alexia moans as I unload my massive seed inside her and paint her walls white.
We both moan, I kiss her deeply and slowly pull out of her. Alexia moans and bites her lip as come cum oozes out and onto the sheets.
“Mmm please baby I need more.” Alexia cutely moans.
I giggle and kiss her again. “Get in doggy baby.”
Alexia does as I say, she moves the middle of the bed and gets on all fours. I bite my lip and admire her ass and pussy and smirk as my cum continue to ooze out of her pussy, and drips down her thigh and onto the sheets.
I bite my lip and check out her ass as she shakes it. I smirk, I get up and get behind her. I slap her ass, Alexia moans and jumps as I slap her ass.
I smirk, she moans as I spank her ass again. I rub my dick through her cum glazed folds. We both moan as I slide my dick back inside her.
I place my hand on her hip and pull her hair with my other hand, I slowly thrust in and out of her and pull her hair.
“Mmmm F-Fuck.” Alexia moans.
“Like that baby? Me balls deep inside you stretching you out?” I ask teasing her.
“Mmm I l-love it.” Alexia moans.
Alexia moans and throws her ass back against me as I continue to fuck her going faster. “S-Shit I don’t think I’ll last much longer… f-fuck you have amazing grip.” I moan.
Alexia giggles and moans as she throws her ass back against me sliding back and forth on my dick faster and faster.
I moan as I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming. “Mmm I’m close.” I moan in pleasure.
“Mmm fuck…. Me too.” Alexia moans.
I moan loudly in pleasure, my balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. Alexia screams in pleasure and squirts again, she squirts all over my dick, abs, thighs and all over the sheets.
“ Alexia…Baby I’m really close.” I moan as my pre cum leaks inside her letting her know that I was about to explode and fill her up.
I moan in pleasure as I feel that familiar feeling in my balls.
Creampie #3:
I squeeze her ass and moan, we both moan as I slam my dick inside her, Alexia moans and cums all over my dick. We both moan as cum oozes and spurts inside her painting her walls white and filling her to the brim.
Alexia takes a moment to catch her breath. I smile and told her head back and smash my lips against hers. Once we catch our breaths I slowly pull out of her. Cum immediately oozes out of her and drips down her thighs and onto the sheets.
Alexia lays down on her side. "Put it in my ass." She moaned.
"Are you sure?" I question making sure that she was really okay with this.
"Yes, do it Y/n." Alexia says.
Without another word I slowly lift her leg up and insert my dick inside of her. Letting her get used to it for a second, I slowly thrust in and out of her.
"Fuck your so tight baby." I moan as I start kissing her neck.
"You're so big." Alexia moaned in response.
I sped up my thrusts as I began to spank her ass, gripping it tightly with one hand and began to play with her tits with my other hand.
"You like that baby? My tight ass Around your dick." Alexia moaned as she turns her head kissing me deeply.
I moan in the kiss, we break the kiss when air becomes a problem. "Yes baby, you feel so tight. I'm going to cum soon, I'm close." I moan resting my head on her shoulder.
My thrusts begin to slow down as I felt my balls tighten, getting ready to cum.
"Where should I cum?" I ask.
"On my tits." Alexia moans.
I quickly got up off the bed, picking Alexia up as she gets onto her knees. She wraps her tits around my dick, she spits on my dick the help rub her tits up and down on my dick.
"Fuck this is amazing." I whispered looking into her eyes rubbing my thumb over her lips.
She takes my thumb in her mouth and strokes my dick a bit faster. I moan, after 5 mintues of an amazing tit job. The urge to cum gets stronger and stronger.
"Fuck baby I'm going to cum." I moan.
Cumshot:
I moan as ropes of thick sticky cum shoot all over her lips, face, mouth and tits.
"Fuck baby, you've covered me." Alexia moans as she licks up what she could.
"Painted my baby girl white." I moan looking at the sticky mess I had left all over Alexia's face and chest.
"Your personal coloring book." Alexia Cutely giggles.
Alexia gets off her knees and starts cleaning up, finally my problem was fixed.
"If you're really sorry for what you did." She trails off and smirks. "We're gonna carry on with this since you're here permanently." Alexia bites her lip.
Alexia straddles my knee and plants a long kiss on my lips. She breaks the kiss, I laugh.
"Deal." I smile and reciprocate the kiss.
#my writing#lesbiansmut#wlw smut#woso fanfics#woso smut#g!p reader#football#soccer#alexia putellas#alexia putellas smut
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What’s a girl gotta do
Pairing: S1! Sam Winchester X Reader
Word count : 1.7k
Warnings : heavily based on s1 ep3 (Dead in the water), mentions of drowning, fluff, no Jess au.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
Y/n was driving to Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. An eighteen year old girl went swimming into the lake but never came back, no body found. She figured it might be her thing. She was driving to her destination but she saw a very familiar car parked outside a diner. It was the infamous black Chevy Impala. She should've know he'd be here. She parked her car right beside it and got out of the. She watched Dean walk out of the diner with the car keys in his hands.
"As soon as I saw this beauty I knew an ugly Winchester would be around as well." She commented leaning against baby.
"Y/n/n." Dean exclaimed opening his arms for her to jump in. Y/n hugged her best friend. "What are you doing here?" He asked pulling apart.
"Same as you. You're going to Lake Monitoc too?" She replied. "Sophie Carlton I'm guessing?" he nodded.
The diner door opened again and Sam walked out. The tall boy watched Dean talking a woman, her face was hidden by Dean's broad shoulders. Sam rolled his eyes as he approached his brother but froze when he saw who he actually was talking to.
"Sammy?" Y/n questioned as he appeared behind Dean. She pulled him in for a hug and he blushed slightly. "I thought you were at Stanford?" She exclaimed.
"Yeah i was but we're looking for dad, now." He replied with a tight smile. "And it's Sam." He added remembering she called him, 'Sammy.'
"Is it now, Sammy?" She teased making Dean laugh out loud and he blushed furiously.
Y/n had been Dean's best friend since they were thirteen. They met each other when Dean was hunting with John and Y/n was with her father but she got separated from him. The Winchesters found her, helped her reunite with her father. Dean and Y/n clicked immediately, finding friends your age as a hunter was a difficult task, so the two of them jumped at the opportunity to become friends.
They visited each other frequently, Y/n played with nine year old Sam and was always friendly with him. As they grew up, Sam quickly developed a crush on the older girl. He was blush immensely when she would ruffle his hair or tell him he looked cute. It wasn't often a pretty nineteen year old girl noticed fifteen year old boy, even if she didn't mean it romantically, Sam basked in her attention.
Every time he watched his older brother drag her away for a hunt or even to show her something cool, he felt disappointed, he thought that someday his older brother will sweep her off her feet and she'd be much more interested in him rather than a little boy like Sam.
For years Sam thought he never stood a chance with his older brother in the picture, he thought his brother might feel something for her and he didn't want to break his brother's heart. But his doubts were cleared when Dean once kissed Y/n to get rid of his latest hook up, but he pulled away yelling,
"Never let me do that again. Ew you're like my sister."
Sam thought Y/n might feel something for Dean, thinking he's older and probably a better choice. But after watching her beat his brother into a pulp for the stunt he pulled, Sam felt relieved that it was all platonic. Even then he didn't think he'd ever get the chance to be with her. He thought he'd always be four years behind.
Then, Sam left for Stanford, cutting off ties with his father and brother. He never thought he'd get to see her again. Seeing her again made him feel giddy, the butterflies in his stomach were doing summersaults.
"Alright folks, you can catch up later we have a case to work." Dean said walking towards the drivers side.
"Let me drive." Y/n said to her best friend before he could deny she shot her best puppy dog eyes.
"Good try but no." Dean said getting in the car.
"Fine. SHOTGUN!!!" She stuck her tongue out at Sam before opening the passenger's side door and getting. Sam shook his head with a smile gracing his lips. He wouldn't have fought with her to sit in the front seat, hell he would've fought Dean to let her drive if she'd asked him to. She's got him wrapped around her finger and doesn't even know it.
Sam got into the confined backseat, struggling a bit to fit his long legs in the small space. Y/n placed her get over the dashboard as Dean drove to their destination.
"Hey feet off the dash." Dean remarked tapped her calf, shooting her a glare, one she was immune to. "Y/n/n I will cut your hair in your sleep." He threatened knowing how much loved and cared for her hair. Sam thought she had really pretty hair. And it smelled so good all the time.
Y/n rolled her eyes before pulling her feet off the dashboard, letting out a huge sigh.
"Oh man, what's a girl gotta do to be loved around here." She spoke dramatically. She grinned at Sam in view mirror, "what do you think, Sammy?" She asked him and his face turned red.
She enjoyed watching him get all flustered and squirmy when she teased him. She thought Sam was cute, not in a chubby little boy kind way, but cute in a charming way. She like his smile, and that messy mop of hair on his head. She wondered how it would feel to run her hands through them.
"How about shutting up, sweetheart?" Dean quipped watching the interaction between his best friend and his little brother.
Dean knows his brother is whipped for Y/n and she has talked his ear off, gushing over his brother. He's all for them being together, in fact he's rooting for them. But if he has to sit through their miserable attempts at flirting or giving each other sickeningly irritating heart eyes when the other isn't looking. He will throw up.
The trio soon arrived at the victim's house. They talked to the vics brother finding out that his sister was a varsity swimmer and it was impossible for her to drown. They asked Will a few more questions before heading to the police station.
After talking to the Sherrif they found out that they didn't find anything in the water, which could've done that, dam is falling apart so the lake won't be here any longer, since they're not getting any money to fix it.
After Will Carlton was found dead, the trio did alot more digging around for a while and found out, that Sherrif and Bill Carlton had a friend named Peter Sweeney who disappeared years back. It become clear that Jake and Bill had a hand in his disappearance. They found Peter's bike buried in Jake's backyard.
It took a while before Jake confessed, that he and Bill accidentally pushed Peter in the lake and they let him drown, so there's no body to salt and burn to put the vengeful spirit to rest.
It all happened too fast when Lucas was being pulled into to the lake, it was Peter. He wanted Jake to suffer, watch all his loved ones die, just like he did to Bill. Just like, how Peter's mother felt when he disappeared.
They heard Andrea call out for her son, it only took Y/n and Dean a second to jump in the water to save him. The two kept looking for Lucas but he was nowhere to be found. Sam held Andrea back from jumping into the water.
Jake walked into the lake willingly, hoping Peter would take him instead of his grandson and in hopes that after getting his revenge he'd leave his family alone. Y/n felt something pulling her under the water and she felt herself drowning. She could make out a shadow, which looked like a pale little boy. But then suddenly, it let her go.
Dean came above surface with Lucas in his arms. Sam helped the two up and Andrea hugged her son close to her chest. The brothers looked at lake, Y/n should've come up by now. Peter took Jake, it should've been over. But Y/n fell unconscious under the water, intaking too much water in her body and unable to swim back up. Sam immediately jumped in the water to search for her.
"SAM." Dean yelled as he watched his brother jump into the water.
A few minutes later Sam surfaced ashore with Y/n in his arms. He laid her on the wooden dock and knelt beside her, his heart pounding. She was unconscious and not breathing. He quickly tilted her head back, pinched her nose, and covered her mouth with his, giving two rescue breaths. Then, he placed his hands on the center of her chest and began chest compressions. A few seconds later Y/n shot up with a loud gasp, coughing out water as she sat up.
"Oh god." She wheezed holding her head. "Is Lucas okay?" She asked looking at the little boy. His mother nodded in acknowledgement.
"You okay, Y/n/n?" Dean asked kneeling beside her.
Before she could reply Sam grabbed her by her neck and pulled her in for a harsh kiss. He kissed her like his life depended on it. His lips moved against her with fervour, his heart was hammering against his ribcage. She kissed him with equal force, her hands grasping at his damp hair. He rested his forehead on hers as he pulled away.
"Don't you dare scare me like that, ever again." He breathed heavily, his chest puffing with each breath.
"Drown!!" She chirped with a grin on her face. Sam looked at her, confusing lacing his handsome face. "A girl's gotta drown to be loved around here." She added with a giggle. Dean barked out a laugh at her stupid comment.
"I hate you so much." Sam rolled his eyes but had a huge smile on his face. Sam gently brushed a strand of hair from Y/n's face, and she smiled up at him, eyes sparkling with happiness. They leaned in for another soft, lingering kiss, sealing their new beginning.
#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x reader fluff#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester#spn x reader#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#supernatural x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#early seasons#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#supernatural fluff#nini writes
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I Said Back Off
Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader, Lando Norris x Fem!Reader, Franco Colapinto x Lando Norris
Angst
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The world only saw Lando Norris, the quick-witted Formula 1 driver. They didn’t know about the side of him I knew—warm, caring, fiercely protective. Our relationship had been a secret for almost a year, something we wanted to keep safe from the prying eyes of the public and the pressures of the racing world. But I never expected someone to test the strength of our hidden romance as Franco Colapinto did.
The paddock was buzzing after Williams announced that Franco would be replacing Logan Sargeant. Franco had a boyish charm, that easygoing confidence that made him instantly likable. I was happy to see him get his shot in Formula 1, and I had no reason to think he’d be anything other than friendly. But from day one, he turned his attention to me in a way that was impossible to ignore. At first, I brushed it off as him trying to make an impression, especially as he didn’t know about Lando and me. But as his flirtation intensified, it became harder to ignore—and harder for Lando to tolerate.
One afternoon, I was in the paddock waiting for Lando to finish a debrief when Franco walked over, wearing his Williams team shirt and a lazy, almost arrogant grin.
“Y/N,” he greeted, giving me a once-over that felt more invasive than flattering. “You look stunning today. I bet you bring good luck to whoever you’re with.”
I laughed politely, shifting uncomfortably. “Thank you, Franco.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I mean it. I’ve noticed you around, and let’s just say… I’m determined to make sure I see a lot more of you. Maybe a date after the race?”
I tried to play it off with a polite smile, but it felt slimy. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He laughed, not at all deterred. “Why not? I’ve got plenty to offer, Y/N.”
The unsettling feeling in my stomach grew as Franco took a step closer, his eyes raking over me. I had a sinking feeling he wasn’t used to hearing the word “no.”
I was relieved when Lando finally emerged from his meeting. He took one look at Franco standing so close to me, and his whole expression changed. His jaw clenched, eyes darkening, and he strode over, positioning himself protectively between Franco and me.
“Is there a problem here?” Lando asked, voice tense.
Franco’s smile only widened as he shrugged. “No problem at all, mate. Just getting to know Y/N a bit better. Can’t blame a guy for being interested in a beautiful girl.”
Lando’s hand tightened around my waist, his jaw ticking with restrained anger. “Maybe you should focus on your driving, Franco. Y/N’s not interested.”
Franco gave him a dismissive look, his smirk unwavering. “That’s funny, Norris. Just because you say she’s not interested doesn’t mean it’s true. I think she deserves to make her own choice.”
I could practically feel the fury radiating off Lando as he squared up to Franco, not bothering to hide his protectiveness anymore. “Back off, Colapinto. I’m only going to say this once.”
Franco laughed, clearly amused. “Touchy, aren’t we? I didn’t know she was already spoken for. But tell me, Norris… are you sure you’re giving her everything she needs? Because I’m willing to bet I could do better.”
Lando’s fists balled at his sides, and it took every ounce of restraint I had to pull him away before things got physical. “Lando, it’s not worth it. Let’s go,” I said softly, trying to defuse the tension.
Reluctantly, he let me guide him away, though I could feel his entire body still wound tight with anger. Once we were alone in his driver’s room, he paced back and forth, struggling to calm down.
“Who does he think he is, talking to you like that?” Lando muttered, his voice sharp with frustration. “He’s just a rookie. No one even knows his name, and he thinks he can just… just take you from me?”
I moved closer, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Lando, he doesn’t know about us. That’s why he’s acting this way. Just ignore him. He’ll get over it.”
But Lando shook his head, his expression hard. “I don’t care. I don’t care if he knows or not. I don’t want him near you.”
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Race day arrived, and Lando seemed more tense than usual. Even as he prepared to get into the car, his eyes kept flicking over to me, as if making sure I was out of Franco’s reach. I tried to stay out of sight to avoid more confrontation, but Franco didn’t make it easy. Just before the race started, he found me in the garage, that same smirk on his face as he strode over.
“You know, I’m still serious about that date, Y/N,” he said smoothly, grabbing my hand before I could pull it away. He brought it to his lips, holding my gaze in a way that felt more like a challenge than a gesture of admiration. “Imagine the life we could have together. You don’t have to settle for second place.”
“Franco,” I said firmly, pulling my hand back. “I’m not interested.”
But he only chuckled. “That’s not the vibe I’m getting.”
Before I could respond, Lando caught sight of the scene from across the garage. His eyes blazed with fury as he marched over, grabbing Franco by the shoulder and yanking him back.
“I warned you, Franco,” Lando growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Stay. Away. From. Her.”
Franco just laughed, clearly reveling in Lando’s anger. “Calm down, Norris. You’re making a scene. What, scared of a little competition?”
“Competition?” Lando’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper. “I’ll show you competition.”
With that, he turned on his heel, stalking off toward his car without another word. I knew he was furious, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.
The race was brutal. Lando drove with a relentless aggression I hadn’t seen before, overtaking at every opportunity, refusing to yield an inch of space. When he finally closed in to lap Franco, I held my breath, watching as he drew dangerously close, almost forcing Franco off the track. Then, in a split second, Franco’s car veered off-course, spinning out and crashing into the barriers. The gasps around me were drowned out by the sound of metal grinding against concrete.
The cameras caught every second of it, but I knew immediately: it hadn’t been an accident. Lando had pushed him, and Franco’s car was totaled. Word quickly spread that Franco had injured his wrist, an injury that would keep him off the track for weeks.
When I finally found Lando after the race, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Lando, tell me you didn’t do that on purpose.”
He looked at me, eyes still blazing with the same anger I’d seen earlier. “He was asking for it, Y/N. I warned him. He wouldn’t leave you alone, and then he had the nerve to say he could treat you better? I wasn’t going to stand for that.”
I stared at him, torn between anger and an unsettling sense of pride. “But Lando… you could’ve seriously hurt him.”
He pulled me close, his expression softening just slightly. “I’d do anything to protect you, Y/N. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else thinking they have a claim on you. I won’t let anyone take you from me.”
My heart softened, even though I knew he’d crossed a line. “Lando, you can’t just—”
But before I could finish, he kissed me, right there in the open, in front of cameras and crew. Our secret was no longer hidden; he was making it known to everyone, Franco included, that I was his.
As the days passed, Lando’s apology came in small gestures—a handwritten note slipped into my bag, flowers on my doorstep, a quiet apology over dinner. He promised me he’d try to control his temper, and slowly, I forgave him. Because, in the end, there was no denying that he’d done it out of love, fierce and unyielding, a love I couldn’t resist.
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