#oh and did I mention this was all this week

[moonlightwritingf1]

Raw | LN4

𐙚 summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/N have sex without a condom for the first time. He cums inside her.

𐙚 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𐙚 word count ━━━━━━━ 2.3k

𐙚 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie

Based on this request.

Y/n stretched lazily on the couch, her toes curling into the soft fabric as she scrolled absently through her phone. The faint hum of London’s evening traffic drifted through the open window, but her mind was elsewhere—specifically, on Lando. They had been officially together for seven months now, and every moment with him felt like a whirlwind of emotions, teasing, and undeniable chemistry. But tonight… tonight was different.

She glanced at the clock. He would be here any minute. Her heart fluttered, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress the nervous excitement bubbling inside her. They had talked about this earlier in the day, a conversation that had started with casual banter and ended with something much more intimate.

No condom, she thought, her cheeks flushing. She had finally decided to bring it up after weeks of consideration. After all, she was on birth control now, and the idea of feeling him—really feeling him—without any barriers had been on her mind more often than she cared to admit. When she mentioned it, Lando’s reaction had been… well, typical Lando. A mix of playful teasing and genuine enthusiasm. “Bold move, love,” he had said, his voice low and edged with mischief. “But I’m not complaining.”

The sound of the doorbell startled her out of her thoughts. She smoothed her hands over her jeans, took a deep breath, and walked to the door. There he was, leaning casually against the frame, his signature smirk already in place. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Took you long enough,” she teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“Traffic,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the chair. “And you know how impatient I get when I’m coming to see you.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the warmth that spread through her chest. God, he’s impossible. And yet, there was something about his unapologetic confidence that made her knees weak.

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers. “So… about earlier…”

Her breath hitched. “What about it?”

His grin widened, and he moved even closer, until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her pulse quickened. “Are you?”

That earned her a laugh, deep and rich, and he cupped her face in his hands. “Always, love. Always.”

Their lips met in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a hunger that made her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, losing herself in the taste and feel of him. His hands slid down her back, settling on her hips, and he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss.

When her back hit the mattress, he pulled away just enough to look at her, his eyes filled with desire. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, trailing his fingers along her jawline.

She shivered under his touch, her body already responding to him in ways that left her breathless. “Flattery won’t get you everywhere, Norris.”

“Oh, I think it just did,” he quipped, sliding his hands under her shirt and lifting it over her head. His eyes raked over her bare skin, and he let out a low whistle. “Definitely everywhere.”

She laughed, but it quickly turned into a gasp as his lips found her neck, nipping and sucking lightly. His hands worked skillfully at the clasp of her bra, and within seconds, it joined her shirt on the floor. He groaned at the sight of her, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, and she arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“Lando…” she breathed, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He helped her, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, marveling at the way his muscles tensed under her touch.

He was lean, yes, but there was a strength to him that always surprised her. Maybe it was the way he carried himself���confident, assured—or maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Whatever it was, it made her feel things she hadn’t felt in years. Things she hadn’t thought she could feel.

He leaned down, capturing her lips again, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, and she could feel the hardness of him through his jeans. She rocked her hips against his, earning a growl from deep in his throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his hands sliding down to undo her jeans. He tugged them off, along with her panties, and paused for a moment to just look at her. His gaze was intense, almost reverent, and it made her heart race.

“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Just… you’re perfect.”

She blushed, averting her eyes, but he caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t do that,” he said firmly. “Don’t look away. I want to see you. All of you.”

Her breath caught, and she nodded, unable to speak. Slowly, he trailed his fingers down her body, touching her everywhere but where she wanted him most. She squirmed beneath him, frustration building with every teasing stroke.

“Lando…” she whined, her hips lifting off the bed in silent pleading.

He chuckled, low and wicked. “Patience, love. Good things come to those who wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough,” she retorted, grasping his wrist and guiding his hand between her legs.

He groaned when he felt how wet she was, his fingers slipping easily through her folds. “Holy shit, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. “You’re absolutely soaking wet.”

She gasped as he slipped a finger inside her, her back arching off the bed. His thumb circled her clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. He added another finger, stretching her, preparing her, and she whimpered, rocking her hips against his hand.

“Please,” she begged, her nails digging into his shoulders. “I need you.”

He didn’t make her beg twice. He stripped off his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free, hard and leaking. She reached for him, wrapping her hand around his length, and he hissed at the contact, his hips jerking forward.

“Careful,” he warned, though his tone was anything but serious. “Or I might not last long enough to make this worth your while.”

She smirked, giving him a little squeeze. “Promises, promises.”

He laughed, shaking his head, and then he was positioning himself between her legs, the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with hers. “This is really what you want?”

She nodded, reaching up to cup his face. “Yes. I want to feel you. All of you.”

He kissed her gently, a stark contrast to the desperation they both felt, and then he pushed into her, slowly, inch by excruciating inch. Neither of them broke eye contact, and she could see the exact moment he felt her completely—the way his eyes darkened, the way his breath hitched, the way his entire body seemed to shudder.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough. “You feel… Jesus, you feel amazing.”

She couldn’t agree more. The sensation of him inside her, without any barriers, was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Every vein, every ridge—she could feel it all, and it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one driving her closer to the edge. She clung to him, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. Their breaths mingled, their bodies moving together in perfect sync, and for the first time in her life, she felt truly, completely connected to someone.

“Lando,” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he promised, his voice strained.

Lando’s lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm and ragged as he whispered, “You have no idea how good you feel right now.” His voice was low, husky, and dripping with desire, sending a shiver down her spine that made her arch into him. His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve, every dip, as if he were memorizing her all over again—and perhaps he was.

“I want to make you feel everything,” he continued, his teeth grazing her earlobe gently before he kissed the sensitive spot just below it. “Every inch of you… I want to worship it. I want to devour you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, her body responding instantly. She could feel him inside her, every movement, every thrust, intensifying the pleasure coursing through her. His cock felt like it was made for her, stretching her in ways she hadn’t known were possible, filling her completely.

Lando’s hands slid down to her hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled her closer, driving himself deeper. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with effort. “And wet—Jesus, Y/n, you’re absolutely soaking. I can feel you… all of you.”

“Lando…” she whimpered, her voice trembling as she felt herself unraveling under him. Her nails dug into his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as the sensations overwhelmed her. The way he moved inside her, slow yet deliberate, was driving her insane. She could feel the tension building, coiling tightly in her core, ready to snap.

His lips found hers again, capturing her moans as he kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers in a rhythm that matched his thrusts. He broke the kiss only to whisper against her lips, “I love how responsive you are. How you move with me. How you take me.” His words were like gasoline to the fire already burning within her, igniting something primal, something raw.

Her hands moved to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. She could feel how hard he was working to keep control, to keep his movements steady, but she could also sense the desperation in him. The way his breath quickened, the way his muscles tensed—it was as if he were holding back, waiting for her to fall first.

But she didn’t want to fall alone.

“Harder,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with urgency. “Please, Lando… I need more.”

He didn’t hesitate. His thrusts became harder, faster, each one hitting that perfect spot deep inside her that had her seeing stars. She gasped, her head falling back as the pleasure intensified, threatening to consume her entirely. “Fuck, y/n,” he growled, his hands tightening on her hips. “You feel too good. I’m losing my mind here.”

She could feel it too—the way his control was slipping, the way his rhythm faltered slightly as pleasure overtook him. But instead of pulling back, he pushed forward, giving her everything he had. His cock pulsed inside her, as if begging for release, but he held on, determined to bring her with him.

His lips found her neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there as he murmured against it, “I want to cum inside you. Can I? Please, baby, I need to feel you come around me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze briefly before she nodded, her voice breaking as she whispered, “Yes… please.”

That was all the permission he needed. His thrusts became erratic, his breathing ragged as he gave in to the overwhelming pleasure. She could feel him twitching inside her, feel the heat building as he approached the edge. And then, with a groan that sounded almost primal, he came, spilling himself deep inside her.

The moment his hot seed filled her, something inside her snapped. The tension that had been building in her core exploded, and she cried out, her body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. It was unlike anything she had ever felt—intense, all-consuming, and utterly perfect.

Her legs trembled, her grip on him loosening as she fell back against the bed, completely spent. Lando followed her down, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he buried his face in her neck, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

For a moment, they simply lay there, their bodies still connected, their hearts racing in sync. Then, slowly, Lando lifted his head to look at her, his eyes filled with emotion. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he whispered, “You’re incredible. Absolutely fucking incredible.”

She couldn’t help but smile, her body still tingling from the aftershocks of their shared climax. “So are you,” she replied softly, her hand resting on his cheek. She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath her palm, the stubble rough yet comforting.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “I want to worship you. Every part of you. Body, mind, soul… you’re mine, Y/n. All of you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, the intensity in his gaze making her stomach flutter. She knew he meant it—every word, every promise. And for the first time, she allowed herself to believe it. To believe in him.

Before she could respond, he kissed her again, this time soft and lingering, as if sealing a promise she wasn’t even sure she was ready to make. As their lips parted, he whispered, “Sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And for once, she didn’t argue. She simply closed her eyes, her body sinking into the mattress as exhaustion claimed her. But just as sleep began to pull her under, she felt his arms wrap around her, holding her close, keeping her safe.

In that moment, she felt truly, completely his. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[woniedarlin]

XO,I'm Yours

pairing: Jungwon x fem! Reader

genre: XO, Kitty au

synopsis: Having a massive crush on Jungwon is tough. Every time he’s around, your brain malfunctions, and instead of acting normal, you… avoid him. He’s calm, chill, and entirely out of your league (at least, that’s what you tell yourself). Enter Kitty, the matchmaker, determined to make things happen. With her “help,” you find yourself in the most awkward yet heart-racing moments with Jungwon.

The worst part? Jungwon is noticing you now. And it’s making everything so much more complicated. But maybe… Kitty’s plan wasn’t so bad after all.

author's note: This was requested by @firstclassjaylee . Thank you for this idea!!! Please let me know the pronouns for the og XO Kitty characters! I wasn’t sure, so if I got them wrong, I’d happily change them immediately. Apologies in advance for not being able to mention all the characters. Happy reading!

caution: This fic contains extreme secondhand embarrassment and an excessive amount of Jungwon-induced butterflies. Read at your own risk!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

The plan was simple. Avoid Jungwon at all costs.

It wasn’t that he was mean. That was the problem. Jungwon was nice. The kind of nice that made your stomach do flips and made you feel like an idiot for getting so flustered over someone just existing. So, instead of embarrassing yourself, you settled for admiring him from afar. No eye contact. No unnecessary conversations. Easy.

At least, it was easy...until Kitty found out.

“You have a massive crush on him,” Kitty said one afternoon with her arms crossed.

“No, I don’t.” You knew lying was pointless, but still, you had to try.

Kitty gave you a look. “You walked into a door last week because he was standing near it.”

Your face burned. “That was an accident.”

“Sure,” she said unimpressed. “Look, lucky for you, I happen to be amazing at matchmaking. And I happen to have a plan.”

You blinked. “A plan?”

“Step one: Stop avoiding him.”

You immediately shook your head. “Absolutely not.”

“Too bad because I already started.”

Your stomach dropped. “Kitty. What did you do?”

She just grinned. “You’ll see.”

And just like that, your quiet little crush? It was about to become very complicated.

💌

You should have known Kitty wouldn’t waste any time. The very next day, you find yourself in an unavoidable situation.

It started in the Library. You had just settled in your usual corner, buried in a book, when Kitty slid into the seat across from you.

“What are you—”

“Shh.” She put a finger to her lips. “Just act natural.”

That’s when you saw him.

Jungwon.

He was scanning the shelves a few feet away, oblivious to how your entire body tensed at seeing him. Your brain screamed at you to run, but before you could, Kitty leaned in and whispered, “I told him you needed help with your econ homework.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You did what?”

And right on cue, Jungwon turned, eyes landing on you.

“Hey,” he said as he was walking over.

Kitty beamed. “Perfect timing! She was saying how she’s completely lost in econ.”

You snapped your head toward her. Liar. You were literally top of the class.

Jungwon pulled out the chair beside you and sat down without hesitation. “I can help.”

You swallowed. Oh no.

Kitty’s grin was way too smug. “Great! I’ll leave you two to it.” Then, before you could protest, she was gone.

Leaving you. Alone. With Jungwon.

You looked down at your phone, noticing a message from Kitty

“You’re welcome ;)’’

💌

You tried to focus on Jungwon's explanation for the first few minutes. Really, you did.

But how were you supposed to concentrate when he was sitting this close?

He leaned over the table, pointing at your textbook, his voice steady as he explained some economic theory. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but in reality, your brain was short-circuiting.

“Does that make sense?” he asked, turning to look at you.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

Your face heated. “I was! Kind of. Maybe.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re bad at lying.”

You groaned, then covered your face. “This is embarrassing.”

“Why?” He tilted his head. “It’s just me.”

Exactly.

It was just him. Just Jungwon, who you had spent months avoiding because he made you feel like a walking disaster. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed amused.

“I don’t bite, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” you blurted out.

He smirked. “So you’ve just been avoiding me for fun?”

You clamped your mouth shut.

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, watching you with a knowing look. “Huh.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” His smirk deepened. “You’re interesting.”

Your stomach did a backflip.

Oh, you were so doomed.

Later that night, Kitty found you in your dorm room, looking too pleased with herself.

“So?” she asked, flopping onto your bed. “How did it go?”

You groaned. “I made a fool of myself.”

Kitty laughed. “Define ‘fool.’”

“I blanked out. He caught me staring. I admitted to avoiding him. And he called me interesting.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait. He called you interesting?”

You nodded miserably.

Kitty squealed. “That’s huge!”

You frowned. “How is that huge?”

“Because Jungwon doesn’t just call people interesting, my dear hopeless friend. You caught his attention.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You think?”

“I know.” Kitty grinned. “And trust me, this is only the beginning.”

You groaned again, flopping face-first onto your pillow.

Kitty just laughed.

After all, the matchmaking had only just begun.

💌

“Okay,” Kitty clapped her hands, grinning as she stared at you. “Today’s the day we level you up.”

You blinked and were confused. “Level me up?”

“Yes! You like Jungwon, but you get all shy and awkward around him,” she pointed out. “So, if you want him to notice you, we must work on your confidence.”

You groaned, already feeling embarrassed. “Kitty, this is so unnecessary.”

Kitty ignored you and stepped forward. “First lesson: Posture! Stand straight, shoulders back. Confidence comes from the way you carry yourself.”

You hesitated before adjusting yourself, trying to mimic the way she stood. “Like this?”

Kitty nodded. “Good. Now, when you see Jungwon, don’t look away all nervous. Hold eye contact. Make him feel like he’s the only person in the room.”

You gulped. “The only person in the room? Kitty, I can’t even look at him for three seconds without feeling like I’m about to pass out.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why we’re practicing! Here, pretend I’m Jungwon.”

You stared at her. “Kitty, this is weird.”

“Do it!” she urged.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly raised your head, looking her in the eyes. You managed to hold it for two seconds before covering your face. “Nope. I can’t do this.”

Kitty groaned dramatically. “Okay, let’s try something else. Flirting! Sometimes, a little playful teasing can go a long way.”

You hesitated. “Like… what kind of teasing?”

Kitty smirked. “Try complimenting him, but make it sound casual. Like, ‘Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.’”

You cringed. “That doesn’t sound casual at all.”

“It’s all about the tone!” Kitty explained. “Say it naturally, like you’re just making an observation.”

You sighed and cleared your throat, trying to sound confident. “Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.”

Kitty immediately burst into laughter. “Why do you sound like a robot?”

You groaned and covered your face again. “I told you I’m bad at this!”

She patted your shoulder. “Okay, okay. Let’s try something easier…Oh! What about smiling? When you see him, could you give him a little smile? Not too big, not too small. Just a hint of a smile.”

You nodded and tried it. Kitty examined you for a second before shaking her head. “No. That looks scary.”

“Kitty!!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s just—oh wait, Jungwon’s coming!” Kitty suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

Your eyes widened in pure panic. “WHAT?!”

“Relax! Just do what we practiced!” she whispered urgently.

Jungwon walked past, glancing at the two of you. You froze utterly, your mind going blank. Then, at the last second, you remembered Kitty’s advice. You quickly straightened your posture and gave him a small smile… except you accidentally bared your teeth like an awkward grimace instead of a confident smile.

Jungwon slowed down slightly, his brows furrowing. “Uh… are you okay?”

‘’Pfft’’ Kitty covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

You, wholly mortified, quickly turned away. “Yes! Totally fine! Just… stretching my face!”

Jungwon blinked, clearly confused, before nodding slowly and walking off.

The moment he was out of sight, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kitty, I hate this.”

Kitty finally burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t your best moment, but hey! At least you tried!”

“I just embarrassed myself,” you muttered.

Kitty grinned. “Relax. Slow and steady wins the race. You’ll get there.”

You sighed, not entirely convinced, but Kitty’s encouragement made you feel slightly better. Maybe with time—and much more practice—you’d finally get the confidence you needed.

…Hopefully, before you died of embarrassment first.

💌

After your absolute disaster of a confidence practice session with Kitty, you decided there was only one solution.

Avoid Jungwon.

At all costs.

Your already massive crush on him had now turned into full-blown mortification. Every time you so much as thought about how you awkwardly bared your teeth at him, you wanted to disappear into the earth. So, naturally, when you spotted Jungwon walking down the hallway, you did what any logical person would do.

You grabbed the nearest person and used them as a human shield.

“Minho,” you hissed, ducking behind his tall frame.

Minho barely flinched while sipping on his collagen water. “Oi, what’s this then?” he drawled,

You gripped his shoulders. “I need to hide.”

Minho sighed, already used to your antics. “Lemme guess—Jungwon?”

You nodded frantically.

Minho shook his head but didn’t move. “You know, mate, you can’t keep running forever.”

“Yes, I can,” you whispered.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

“Minho,” Jungwon’s voice suddenly called out, catching your breath.

You peeked over Minho’s shoulder just in time to see Jungwon stopping before him, looking too good for your heart to handle.

Minho, unfazed, nodded in greeting. “Aye, mate. What’s up?”

Jungwon started talking to Minho about something you were too distracted to process. Because while he was addressing Minho, his eyes kept peeking over Minho’s shoulder—straight at you.

You immediately shrank further behind Minho.

Jungwon’s lips twitched slightly. “Hey,” he said, this time directed at you.

Your brain is short-circuited. Oh no. He’s talking to me. Abort mission. Abort mission.

Minho, ever the instigator, casually stepped to the side, exposing you completely.

You had no choice but to face Jungwon. “H-Hi,” you managed weakly.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly. “Are you hiding from me?”

“What? No! Pfft, that’s crazy,” you blurted out and laughed nervously.

Minho smirked and sipped his collagen water. “Yeah, mate, totally crazy.”

You kicked the back of Minho’s shoe.

Jungwon didn’t look entirely convinced but let it slide. “Alright,” he said before flicking his gaze back to Minho.

You thought you were in the clear—until you noticed that Jungwon kept glancing at you even as he continued his conversation with Minho. Every few seconds, his eyes would shift back to you.

It was subtle, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.

Then, as Minho made some joke in his relaxed drawl, Jungwon suddenly interrupted, his eyes locking on yours. “You don’t have to hide, you know,” he said softly.

Your heart stopped.

After thoroughly enjoying the situation, Minho took a long sip of his drink. “Oi, look at that, would ya? Some real tension here.”

You kicked him again.

Jungwon only smiled slightly before looking away as if he hadn’t just destroyed your ability to function.

And just like that, your plan to avoid him had backfired entirely.

You were so doomed.

💌

The sound of typing and the flick of pages turning was the soundtrack of your days lately. You had been buried in textbooks for what felt like forever. The stress had accumulated, leaving you exhausted. Your face was pale, and dark bags were under your eyes from the sleepless nights, but you couldn’t stop. You had to push through. A vast project was coming up, and you couldn’t afford to fail.

You propped your head up with one hand, barely able to keep your eyes open as you glanced over your notes. The words blurred, your mind already foggy from overworking. Before you knew it, your head dropped onto the table with a soft thud.

“Ugh…,” you mumbled as you fought to stay awake.

The door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of footsteps entering. Kitty’s voice followed soon after. “Hey, are you still at it?”

Jungwon’s calm tone responded, “She’s been studying for hours now. I don’t think she’s taking breaks.”

You groaned, too tired to even lift your head. The sounds of them approaching grew closer until you felt the soft pressure of someone standing beside you. You sighed and tried to sit up, but the weight of your exhaustion made it hard.

As you lifted your head, you saw Kitty’s shocked expression first. She gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh! You look like you haven’t slept in days! Your face… it’s—”

You blinked slowly, too tired to defend yourself. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, attempting to give a smile, but it came out weak and crooked.

Kitty’s eyes softened with concern. “You need to take a break. Look at those bags under your eyes. Are you even eating right?”

Before you could reply, you heard Jungwon’s voice. “There’s nothing wrong with your face,” he said unbothered. He bent down to your level. “You’re still pretty, even with all that stress.”

The compliment caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but blush despite how exhausted you were. “W-well, thank you…” you stammered, a little embarrassed.

Kitty rolled her eyes playfully. “See, Jungwon knows what to say! But seriously, you need to rest.” She crossed her arms, and her frown replaced her concern. “This is way too much. You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate.”

Jungwon nodded slightly. “Kitty’s right. You won’t get far if you can’t even stay awake.”

You sighed, both too tired and too embarrassed to argue. “I… I need to finish this.”

Kitty leaned closer and whispered as if sharing a secret, “How about I help you get this done faster? You can relax, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

You blinked slowly, still too drained to think straight. “Are you sure?”

She smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. You need to close your eyes for a bit.”

Jungwon shot you a small and reassuring smile. “Take a break, okay? You don’t want to make yourself sick over this.”

You hesitated momentarily before nodding, grateful for their support even if you still felt guilty. You slid down in your chair, resting your head against the backrest and briefly closing your eyes.

Kitty moved to your side, pulling out her phone to check her messages. Jungwon stayed silent nearby, giving you an almost protective glance as you rested.

“Good. Now, take a nap. No more studying for the rest of the day,” Kitty said with a smile as she gave you the space to rest.

You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, hoping the rest would help ease the weight of the world you’d been carrying.

💌

You sat quietly on a chair, Minho beside you, applying your skincare. He had been your skincare mentor for a while, helping you with all the little tricks you needed. “Alright, make sure you really press it in,” Minho said, gently patting the moisturizer into your skin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever do it as well as you,” you murmured. “But thanks for teaching me.”

Minho smiled. “Of course. You’re a fast learner,” he said, dabbing the cream across your cheek. “Maybe you should start your skincare vlog or something.”

You chuckled softly, “I’d probably mess it up on camera.”

Minho shook his head and let out a grin. “You’d be perfect. Trust me.”

You both laughed; the room felt safe. There was no pressure, no expectations, just good company. Then the door creaked open, and you looked up. Jungwon stepped in, looking casual, but something about his presence made the atmosphere feel different…tense, almost.

Minho waved at him, still oblivious to the sudden shift. “Hey, Jungwon! Just helping out with her skincare. You should join us.”

You froze for a moment, catching Jungwon’s eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly looked away, too shy to hold his eyes for long.

Jungwon’s lips twitched in an almost a frown. “I’m good,” he said; his eyes were focused on you and Minho, how you both were laughing and talking comfortably.

Minho, clearly unaware of the undercurrent between the three of you, laughed again. “You sure? I think I’m pretty much a skincare pro now.” He gently patted your cheek again, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

You noticed Jungwon kept looking at your face, then back to Minho’s hand. There was a slight tension in his posture now. His arms were still crossed, and his eyes had narrowed just a little. “I think she’s got it covered,” Jungwon’s voice a little colder. “You’re always helping her with something.”

You looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as his words were uncomfortably in the air. Your heart beat faster than usual, and you were too shy to respond. Why was it that whenever Jungwon was around, you lost all ability to act normal?

Minho didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “What can I say? I’m just a helpful guy,” he replied with a wink.

Jungwon’s eyes flickered between the two of you. He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer. “Well, maybe she doesn’t need that much help,” he said, a little irritated. His tone wasn’t even harsh.

You flinched slightly, but you didn’t say anything. You just sat there, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Minho noticed the shift. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop making her feel like a project,” he teased, though it was clear he was a little confused by Jungwon’s sudden change in attitude. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

You bit your lip, feeling the awkward silence settle over the room. Jungwon didn’t respond immediately; they just looked at you for a beat longer than necessary. Then he exhaled and glanced at the door. “You should probably get some rest,” Jungwon said softer now. “It’s late.”

You nodded quickly. Unsure of what to say. “Right, I’ll—uh, I’ll head to bed.”

Minho, still oblivious, smiled. “Get some sleep. We’ll finish up tomorrow.”

You nodded again, glancing briefly at Jungwon as you left. Jungwon’s voice stopped you before you could walk out. “You’re… you’re fine, right?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated. “I’m fine,” you replied quietly while avoiding his gaze.

He nodded, then gave you an unreadable smile. “Okay,” he said before turning back to Minho.

You walked out of the room quickly,

Was that… jealousy?

That’s impossible.

💌

“You have to wear this,” Kitty declared, holding up a dress that made your stomach tense.

“Kitty, no.”

“Kitty, yes.”

You glared at her through the mirror, but she just grinned as she shoved the outfit into your hands. “Trust me,” she said. “Jungwon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

You swallowed hard at the thought. Jungwon. Seeing you. In this.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dressed up before, but this outfit felt… different. More intentional. It's more like you were trying to get his attention.

Which, okay, you were, but still—

Kitty snapped her fingers in front of your face. “No overthinking! Just wear it. Come on, it’s a party! You’re supposed to look hot.”

You groaned but ultimately let her win (not that you ever had a choice).

By the time you were ready, you were nervous to the point that you needed to go to the restroom for a second. Your reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. Kitty had curled your hair and given you subtle but effective makeup; the outfit made you feel… good.

“You look amazing,” Kitty whispered and squeezed your shoulders. “Now go show Jungwon what he’s missing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. You felt a little bit braver as you followed her out.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. You weren’t even inside for a full minute before you felt the weight of someone’s eyes on you.

And when you turned—

There he was.

Jungwon.

Standing across the room, eyes locked on you with a similar unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was how his eyes slowly traveled over you before he looked away.

Kitty, standing beside you, definitely noticed.

“Oh,” she whispered and nudged you with her elbow. “He so noticed.”

You felt your face heat up.

Jungwon, however, had turned away, disappearing into the crowd before you could react.

The party was energetic, but you barely registered anything. Kitty had practically forced you into this dress, hyping you up, fixing your hair, and making you promise you wouldn’t shrink away if Jungwon talked to you.

But here he was—talking to you—and you were about two seconds from running.

“You look different.”

You looked up at him with your fingers gripping your cup tighter.

“What?”

His gaze was enough to make you feel self-conscious.

“You don’t usually dress like this,” he said.

You swallowed. “Oh. Yeah. Kitty—”

“Makes sense.”

Your brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Jungwon took a sip of his drink and then met your gaze again.

“It means you look pretty.”

If that makes sense, your brain wholly short-circuited, and you felt like your stomach was twisting again.

You needed to escape.

But the second you tried to move, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t run away,” Jungwon said softly.

You froze.

His grip wasn’t tight or forceful—just enough to hold you there, to make you look at him.

“You always do that,” he murmured.

Your throat went dry.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, “You’re always avoiding me,” he continued, “but then you’re always looking.”

Your breath hitched.

Jungwon let out a chuckle. Then, most casually, like he wasn’t wholly messing with your heart, he said—

“You don’t have to run. I don’t mind if you stay.”

You weren’t used to this—at least not with him.

“Hey,” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You were processing his words slowly. You had been avoiding him for so long, not because you didn’t like him, but because the thought of being close to him made your heart skip beats. And now, here he was, standing so close,

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze anywhere but him. The more you looked at him, the more your stomach flipped.

Jungwon’s hand fell to his side. He gave you a little space, but not enough to make you feel like he was giving up. You could tell that he wasn’t the type to give up easily. “I didn’t mean to crowd you,” he continued, understanding. “I… wanted to hang out, y’know?”

You nodded slowly, still unsure how to move past the awkward tension that had settled between you two. It was strange, feeling so seen yet so exposed. “Okay.” You took a deep breath. “I… I’m not good with all of this yet.”

Jungwon smiled at that. He didn’t push, didn’t pressure. Instead, he took a small step back, keeping a respectful distance but maintaining that comforting presence. “I get it,” he said. “But if you ever want to talk or hang out, I’m here. No rush.” He let the words hang in the air. He is willing to wait until you are ready.

You finally allowed your eyes to meet his, “Thanks,” you whispered, feeling a warmth in your chest that wasn’t just from the proximity but from the simple kindness he showed you. He wasn’t asking for more than your comfort, making everything more manageable.

“You know,” Jungwon added, “you don’t have to hide behind Minho all the time.”

You stiffened at that, but he didn’t look at you teasingly. He was stating a fact.

Your heart fluttered.

“Well, he’s taller than me,” you mumbled, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

Jungwon chuckled.

And for once, the thought of being close to Jungwon didn’t make your heart race in fear. It made it race in something else.

Something a little more hopeful.

💌

The group had decided to take a little break from basically everything that happened, and everyone was now scattered across the dorm’s common area. Kitty and Minho were sitting on the couch, though something was different. Minho had his arm casually draped over the back of the sofa, and Kitty leaned slightly toward him, her attention entirely on whatever they were discussing.

You couldn’t help but watch, caught up in the dynamic between them. It was so apparent that they were getting close. Too close, really. You glanced at them for a few seconds longer than you probably should have, a little uncomfortable with how natural they looked together, especially considering the little tension between them.

You shook your head and sighed. “Those two should just get together already,” you muttered. “It’s painful to watch.” You didn’t even realize you had said it aloud until Jungwon, standing nearby, chuckled softly.

“You seem to be invested in their situation. ”

You froze and blushed immediately. “What? No! I—” You stammered. “It’s awkward, you know? With everything going on with Yuri and all that. It’d be easier if they just figured it out.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Sounds like you’re a little too invested,” his smirk growing.

You looked away quickly. “I’m not. I think… it’s obvious, don’t you think?”

Jungwon leaned back. “Hm. Interesting. You know, Kitty might take that as a challenge. She likes playing matchmaker.” He paused, glancing at the two on the couch before returning to you. “But then again, maybe it’s you who should be matched with someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you shot a look at him, trying to keep your cool. “What are you talking about?” You weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever joke or comment he was about to make.

With a shrug. “I don’t know… It’d be painful to watch you and me, right?”

You were trying to make sense of his words. Was he joking? Was he serious?

Before you could respond, Jungwon gave you a playful smile. “Well, maybe not. We’re not so bad, right?” His eyes seemed to challenge you to call him out on it.

You couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that escaped your lips. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” you said quickly. Your thoughts felt muddled, and your stomach flipped in a way you weren’t quite ready to admit.

Jungwon leaned closer just a little. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s happening between you and… well, someone, someday.”

The way he said that last part made your heart flutter, and before you could think too much about it, you quickly stood up, awkwardly brushing past him to talk to Dae. You couldn’t handle being near him anymore, not with his strange comment.

💌

It had been one of those nights where everything felt like it was building up to something. The group had decided to sneak out, and of course, Kitty had the whole thing planned out. Again. She was determined to get you and Jungwon alone for a little confession moment, even if it meant dragging everyone else into a mini adventure. The plan was simple: sneak out to the park for a midnight stroll.

The group managed to sneak out without much trouble, or so they thought. Kitty was already ahead, while Minho, Q, Dae, and Yuri followed, all too eager to escape their studies. You padded behind them. But suddenly, just as you were about to turn the corner toward the door, you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

“Someone’s coming!” you hissed and panic started rising in your chest. You froze, unsure of what to do, until a pair of warm hands quickly grabbed you from behind, pulling you into the nearest room and closing the door softly.

You looked up to see Jungwon standing there. His gaze was serious momentarily before it softened into that usual mischievous smile. “Close call,” he whispered.

You sighed in relief but your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline. “I didn’t think it would be this hard to sneak out,” you muttered.

Jungwon stepped closer, and the space between you grew smaller. “Kitty really knows how to get us into trouble, doesn’t she?” he smiled gently.

You laughed nervously. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. I don’t know how she does it.” You couldn’t help but glance down. “I should probably—” you began to mumble but Jungwon interrupted you

“You don’t have to run away this time,” he murmured and you felt his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You can stay with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the words, and before you could even process their whole meaning, Jungwon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most gentle kiss you’d ever experienced. The world seemed to stop for a moment.

You stood there, frozen, your eyes wide in shock as Jungwon pulled back slightly, but only enough to look at you with a tender look, “You were going to say something, right?” Jungwon whispered

You were unable to form words. You couldn’t find anything to say except for the obvious truth that had been sitting in your chest for so long. “I… I’ve liked you for a while,” you finally admitted in a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t think you’d… feel the same.”

Jungwon smiled and leaned his forehead against yours. “I feel the same,” he said softly. “I’ve been trying to find the right moment to tell you… but I guess this is as good a time as any.”

You smiled as you leaned into him, both chuckling in silence. For the first time, it felt like the weight had been lifted, and everything had finally fallen into place.

💌

The next day, you and Jungwon walked through campus hand in hand. You didn’t care about the curious glances or whispers around you. Everything felt so natural now. Jungwon’s thumb gently brushed against your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small but significant change in your relationship.

As you turned the corner, you spotted Kitty and Q sitting at their usual spot by the fountain. They looked up at you two simultaneously, eyes widening in shock as they saw your hands intertwined. Kitty’s face immediately broke into a smile, while Q’s jaw dropped slightly. “Oh my god!” Kitty squealed with her voice a few octaves higher than usual as she stood up quickly. “It’s official! You two are—?”

You giggled and nodded. “Yep, it’s real. Took us a while, but we finally figured it out.”

Q was still in shock and blinked a few times before recovering. “Wait, is this the part where you two act all coy about it?” he teased.

Jungwon chuckled and shrugged slightly as he looked down at you with an affectionate gaze. “Guess so,” he said casually. “But it feels good. Finally.”

Kitty, her excitement never waning, jumped up and clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect for each other. I mean, come on, how could you not be?”

You smiled as you felt a little shy under all their attention. “Yeah, well, it’s thanks to Kitty here,” you said, turning toward her with a grateful look. “She practically forced us to get our act together.”

Kitty just shrugged. “Hey, someone had to step in. You two were taking forever.”

You then decided to have a little fun with Q. Turning to him with a smirk; you said, “Oh, and by the way, Q, now that we’re all on the same page… maybe it’s time you and Jin finally get together.”

Kitty gasped, and Q’s face immediately turned beet red. “I—what? No! That’s—no!” he sputtered

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’ve noticed that too. You and Jin make a good pair,” he said honestly.

Q looked like he was about to explode, “I hate him!” he said. “You better not tell Jin I said that.”

You chuckled at his reaction. “Oh, don’t worry. We won’t say a thing… for now.”

Still practically bouncing with excitement, Kitty turned to Jungwon with a warm smile. “Okay, I’ll take the credit for this one,” she said with a wink. “But I’m happy you two finally figured it out.”

Jungwon gave Kitty a genuine look, squeezing your hand as he thanked her. “Honestly, thank you, Kitty. You really did help us get here.”

Kitty’s face softened and she laughed lightly. “Of course! I’m just happy to see you two so happy together.”

At that moment, everything felt perfect. You were with Jungwon and were surrounded by friends who were happy for you. It felt like the start of something new and beautiful, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for everything that had led up to this moment. “Alright, alright,” you said, leaning into Jungwon as you all settled back down to enjoy the rest of the day. “Let’s just say that Kitty’s matchmaking skills are unmatched.”

Kitty shot you a wink. “Told you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was finally falling into place.

[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 5 | l.n

summary: oh damn, never seen that color blue…

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy x sunshine, some more filler (IM SORRY ITS FOR THE PLOT!!!!!), fluff (EEKK!!!!), subtle foreshadowing, unedited as fuck, and hints at a strained family relationship (trauma!!)

message from jordan: hi everyone! long time no see, huh? 😅 i'm so sorry for being mia and for not updating this series in so long, i decided to take a small break from almost all socials. but don't worry, we're back and better than ever <3 as always, thank you for being so patient with me. i hope this chapter is worth the wait!! see you soon, for real this time :) - p.s i hope you enjoy that taylor swift reference in the summary, cause, iykyk 🙂‍↕️

series masterlist | listen to the playlist

“hellloooo earth to oscar!”

it was no use. this was the third time he had unintentionally interrupted your conversation to respond to a text. all while doing so with a giddy smile, one you had never seen light up his face quite like this one did.

you had come over right after class, the two of you agreeing to hang out and catch up. it had been a while since it had just been the two of you hanging out, the inevitable busy schedules really hitting hard during your last semester. you missed your best friend.

missed meaning past tense. because although he was your best friend, right now, you wanted to snap his neck.

"oscar jack piastri!"

"oh- sorry," he mumbled the same apology for the third time this afternoon, "sorry, i was just texting someone. it's nothing, what were we talking about?"

you gave him a blank stare, "were you texting your secret girlfriend?"

you noticed the way his eyes widened a little upon mentioning the word ‘girlfriend’, "okay, one, she's not my girlfriend. and two, no. i was texting max."

and for the four years you've known oscar piastri, you could always tell when he was lying. and this time, he was lying right to your face.

you decided to play along with his game, letting him think he won this time. so you hummed, nodding your head, "okay, fine, if you say so."

"i'm sorry," he apologized again, locking his phone and placing it face down on the kitchen counter, "you have my full attention now, promise. what were you saying?"

"i was telling you about last week."

"right, with lando and the diner thing, right?" he asked and you hummed, taking a piece of popcorn from the bowl in between the two of you, "wait a minute, how'd you go from hating his guts and it being unbearable to be within 5 feet of him to 'oh my god he took me to breakfast'?"

"you know that party lily practically dragged me to?" when he nodded you spoke again, "apparently i really suck at beer pong and he helped me back to the apartment and helped lily take care of me. it was really sweet, actually."

he smiled softly before letting out a quiet snort, "sorry, just never thought i'd hear you say the words 'lando' and 'sweet' in the same sentence."

"i'm serious!" you sighed, pouting ever so slightly.

"no, i know!" he laughed softly, "it's just... you're just now finding out what i've been trying to tell you for the longest time? that he's actually a really good dude?"

you bit down on your lower lip softly, "i didn't really give him a chance, huh?"

"not really, no," he chuckled softly, "but it's okay. he didn't exactly help out his own case either, in all honesty."

you nodded in agreement, the front door to the apartment creaking open. you both turned to see lando kicking off his shoes, placing his keys on the hook by the door.

he smiled at you and oscar, "hey,"

"hey," oscar smiled, answering for you as well as you took in his appearance. messy curls, tight black t-shirt, grey sweatpants, duffel bag on his shoulder and a soft glow on his skin, you could tell he had just gotten back from the gym.

arms. biceps. veins. god, you should probably speak before you embarrass yourself...

it was too late though, he had already seen the way your eyes traveled over his body. he decided to put the mental note in the back of his mind for now, instead checking the watch on his wrist.

"oh shit, i didn't mean to keep you waiting, y/n."

you tapped your phone screen, looking at the time. it was 4:35, just five minutes passed when you said you'd meet up. it really wasn't a big deal. you didn't even know it had gotten that late already.

"no, no, it's fine. didn't even notice, if i'm honest," you smiled and he sent you a smile back. oscar watched the two of you like a tennis match, cheekily grinning at the counter.

"i have some of those papers you had me work on the other day, they're in my room if you wanna..."

"oh- yeah! yeah, sure," you smiled, grabbing your things as oscar silently laughed at the way you acted around his roommate. how you were unintentionally tripping and stumbling over your own feet and your words, how lovestruck you became.

you followed lando to his room, placing your things down and taking a seat on the edge of his bed as he looked through his closet for a change of clothes, "i'm just gonna shower real quick, make yourself at home, though."

you smiled, nodding his way as he closed the door behind him. after all this time, you had never thought you'd see the other side of this door. his room was slightly messy, due to his busy schedule and his active lifestyle. posters of cars and, seemingly, his favorite video games hanging on the walls. the bookshelf that sat in the corner of the room was littered with different textbooks at the bottom and little die cast models of his favorite cars, along with a few formula one cars that you had recognized. the top shelf stood out the most to you, though.

a picture frame of him and who you had assumed to be his family. a family photo taken during christmas, all of them dressed in matching pajamas. a big happy family.

the photo, for whatever reason, brought tears to your eyes. a smile on your face as you sniffled quietly, putting the photo frame back down on it's designated shelf.

the door opened, causing you to turn around as he closed the door behind him, "sorry, i figured you'd prefer if i didn't smell like a guy's locker-room."

you laughed softly, wiping away the small tear that came from your eye, "god, yeah,"

"hey," he said, sitting down on the bed beside you, immediately disregarding the notebook he was grabbing beforehand, "what's wrong? you okay?"

you nodded, waving a hand dismissively, "yeah, yeah, i'm fine. i just- for whatever reason, when i looked at that picture of you and your family it just uhm..."

he patiently waited for you to finish your sentence, "it just brought back some feelings that i wish it hadn't, that's all."

"fuck, i'm so sorry," he said.

"no, no," you shook your head, "you don't have to apologize, if anything i should be the one who's apologizing."

"you don't have to apologize for having emotions."

you smiled softly, feeling another tear fall from the corner of your eye. this time, he gently brought his hand up to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he wiped it away.

the action made you breathless, as if the way he was looking into your eyes hadn't already. a mysterious color you couldn't quite put your finger on. it was a mix between blue, green and grey.

whatever it was, it was gorgeous and captivating at the same time.

you cleared your throat, the two of you moving away from the gap that had slowly been closing. your fingers untwisting themselves from his, you growing flushed at the fact that you had, at some point, interlocked your fingers with his unknowingly.

"sorry," you mumbled softly.

"'m sorry," he said at the same time. you both shared a soft and awkward chuckle before he grabbed his notebook from behind him.

"so, i had a few questions about chapter 15."

"go on," you said, studying his side profile as he explained the areas he was having trouble with. pretty tanned skin littered with freckles and moles, curls that perfectly kissed the skin on the back of his neck and his forehead.

the sentence lily had said to you last week repeating itself into your brain:

“...and it’s not like i don’t see the way he looks at you. he definitely is feeling something he doesn’t want to show just yet,”

oh, fuck.

[colorlessjay]

I imagine that when s16 Dean pops back, s16 Cas will mention some super boring thing he and s6 Dean did together and be jealous. Hit tweet

Jealous Dean is a flavor of Dean I can never get enough of. Is it cliche? Yes. Can it be toxic? absolutely. Do I still seek it out in tags because it scratches the itch in my brain that goes 'hehehe'? almost daily

So here's my brain worms:

Dean's not an insecure man

okay because he is, but he's been working on it and Cas has definitely helped with his self-esteem over the years

And-

fuck it he's jealous. He's jealous and cranky about it and it's all his own fault

"Dean"

"What?" Dean snaps, jaw clenched as he sulks on his nice leather recliner. Yes, he's sulking. Shut up

"You're upset"

"Thanks, Captain Obvious"

"And Bitchy"

"Next you're gonna tell me I have a dick and balls"

Cas does a full-body eye-roll at Dean. Damn it it's cute but Dean's pissy and he's gonna stay pissy for as long as he can help it

"Years of marriage and being by your side, and your behavior still somehow alludes me." Cas places his book down on the coffee table before grunting. "All this crankiness over me baking your younger self a pie"

Dean can feel his heckles raise just at the thought. Because knowing Cas, it was that special honey apple pie he only bakes on Dean's birthday. That the little fucker (the asshole that is his younger self) didn't shower his husband in love and praise the second he got served a slice (not that Dean wanted his younger self to, only he got to do that). A slice made by the hands of a literal Fallen Angel of the Lord, blessed by God himself (Jack usually taste tested)

Dean sinks further into his recliner like the leather is eating him, all while Cas stands by his side, hands on his hips in a now familiar pose of annoyance, a single brow raised as he expects a reply

Jokes on Cas. That only turns Dean on

not the time

"Yeah well, the ungrateful shit didn't deserve it"

"The 'ungrateful shit' you speak of mowed our lawn, walked our dog and made me breakfast. All while trying to find a way back to his own timeline"

"Yeah well, I could've done all of that"

Cas gives him the 'Are you serious?' "You did, both 15 years ago and last week, at the same time. May I remade you, you are being jealous of yourself?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"It's ridiculous"

"It's not"

"it is" Cas insists, sounding exasperated, rolling his eyes again. Dean wants to kiss away the scrunch between his brows... Focus up, Winchester! "You have absolutely nothing to be jealous of"

"Oh so I got nothing to be jealous of when my hot angel husband was left alone with a sexually confused pent-up Hunter?" Dean scoffs and turns his head away "'slike the start of a shitty porno... Only I'm not playing the Hunter"

Dean grunts as a familiar weight lands on his lap, making him sink further into the recliner. Big hands gently grab his jaw and turn his head, locking eyes with those beautiful blue eyes that always hum with angelic grace

"Dean. You have nothing to be jealous of" Cas says slow and firm, like he's punctuating every word. His eyes dance with amusement as he stares Dean down "You wanna know why?"

Dean gulps, feeling his heart flutter already as he's hands find familiar purchase on Cas' hips "yeah..."

"Because" Cas leans close, breathing the words over Dean's lips "-

-------

-------

-------

So I realized there wasn't a part of this I could cut off so imma stop myself here and go to sleep

anyways, good night :D

[chelseeebe]

timeless

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of drugs. no use of y/n!

you find yourself back in hawkins, with nothing but your grandad’s old diner and a bunch of conflicted feelings about your old best friend, can you say goodbye to him all over again?

a/n: set in the 80s but also the 50s idk i just wanted that old timey feeling pretty long fic i was originally going to split up but decided against.. hope you read it and enjoy anyway:)

⋆ and you were headed off to fight in the war, you still would’ve been mine, we would’ve been timeless ⋆

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

hawkins was really the end of the road for you. 

deserting the dreams of the big city to come right back to where it had all started. 

it had been years since you’d stepped foot in this town, not much had changed since then, if you were completely honest. 

still the same old shitty, rundown dump it always was. 

eternally grateful that your grandad still owned the old diner at the other end of town, meaning you’d flounced right into a job and somewhere to stay once you’d packed your bags and left new york behind. 

it’s nothing like the office used to be, barely seeing a dozen customers a day, only if you were lucky. but it was nice, a change in pace after the hustle and bustle of the city. 

the radio hums on quietly in the background, a couple of regulars sit sipping their coffee at various tables. they did this day in, day out. drink coffee, complain about some mundane new issue they had with the town and then shuffle off back to their homes. 

it didn’t exactly seem like your idea of fun. 

there’s a bang from outside, metal hitting the ground and a chorus of laughter pulling all attention to the back of the kitchen. 

you don’t hang around, barrelling through the kitchen to just about catch the gaggle of kids sprinting off down the road leaving behind their cans of spray paint and a delightful new mural on the back wall. 

“what the fuck?” screaming out after them though it’s really no use, they’d already gone. 

exasperated that in the seven years you’d been gone, the kids hadn’t changed a bit. 

you slink back inside, immediately reaching for the phone, hoping that maybe the police had gotten a little better since you’d left. 

though you hold no hope, if they were anything like they were when you were a misfit teen, you’re screwed. 

-

the sun had set, the regulars had scurried off home and now it was just you and the crude painting on the wall. hours and hours of waiting for someone to get out to you. 

only for the patrol car to rattle up into the parking lot, just as you had given up all hope. 

you storm out of the building, infuriated by the nonchalant attitude hawkins police still seemed to hold, “oh, how nice of you to come! i only called three-,” stopping dead in your tracks as the man exits his vehicle. 

you still completely, frozen to your spot, blinking rapidly in disbelief. 

eddie fucking munson stands, with his thumbs hooked into his belt, at the door of his patrol car. hawkins police department uniform to boot, a complete shell of the man you had known years ago. 

“when’d you blow in?” he asks innocuously, slamming the door shut. a new found confidence, or maybe it was cockiness, in his stride. 

“last week,” still coming to grips with the fact that the man stood before you was the same nerdy metal head you were once inseparable with, “when’d you become a cop?”

out of all the possible occupations you could’ve imagined eddie munson in, cop would’ve been dead last on that list. in fact, inmate was several dozens of spots higher. 

he chuckles, realising how ridiculous it must look, “few years ago,” he’s close now, close enough that you can see his long black curls peeking out the back of his hat, “didn’t know you were coming back, i would’ve been quicker if i’d have known it was you.” 

you scoff, very much doubting that, “you should’ve been here hours ago anyway,” beckoning him to the back of the building, no time for reunions while you had a diner plastered in lewd drawings. 

“these fuckin’ kids,” you huff, shaking your head like a scolding old lady, “look at it,” motioning at the hideous spray painting they’d vandalised the entire back wall with, “if you were here on time, you might’ve been able to catch ‘em,” turning your displeased scowl to eddie. 

the corner of his lips twitches, creeping into a full smile. only angering you further. 

“what? d’you think this is funny?”

he shakes his head, cautiously meeting your eye, “no, it’s just.. pretty sure we got taken to the station for doin’ this behind melvalds,” his shoulders shaking as he chuckles. 

you stand, straight faced, the irony wasn’t lost on you, it just didn’t feel like a laughing matter. 

“are you joking? no, really? you’re serious?” rubbing your fingers viciously over the dried paint, “you can paint this shit since it’s so funny to you.” 

“alright alright,” eddie soothes, “i’ll help you paint it,” eyeing the large canvas he’d now been tasked to paint. 

“no,” you frown, “i said you can paint it, i’m not helping you.” 

he smiles, teeth peeking out from his lips, “you get the paint and i’ll do it, deal?” 

driving such a hard bargain, it’s almost impossible not to fall at his feet and sarcastically thank him for his help. 

“fine, deal.” 

“great,” he beams, “now how about some coffee?” 

“we’re closed.”

he exhales, pursing his lips slightly, “please?” 

-

eddie blabbers on about the vagrant youths in hawkins, how just yesterday he was dragging some boy by the scruff of his neck back to his parents. 

it’s all great, exhilarating stuff really. except, you can’t help but let your mind wander, noting his lack of visible tattoos and a ripped up band tee. 

and then further down onto his wedding ring. 

wedding ring?

“you’re married?” you blurt out, staring at the plain band on his fourth finger. eddie munson, married. a feat you had never thought possible. 

“huh?” following your gaze down to his hand, “oh, no,” sliding the silver band from his finger, “it’s the only one they’d let me wear.”

his fingers once adorned with various rings and shoddy stick and poke tattoos, now plain and simple with only the shadows of once black markings. 

“oh,” looking back at his face, “i don’t like it,” shaking your head as if you had any real say on his jewellery, “doesn’t feel like you.” 

eddie takes a sip of coffee, looking just through you, rather than at you, “maybe this is the new me.” 

you ponder, wondering whether you should get as equally profound as he was, “maybe.. still don’t like it,” turning to slide the rest of the dirty plates through the hatch, “when’d you decide to become a traitor anyway?” 

eddie chuckles loudly, the walkie on his shirt crackling incoherently, “a few years ago, it was either this or jail so..” 

“how was it between this or jail? what the hell d’you do?” motioning to his iron pressed getup. 

he sighs, looking down into his mug, “hopper caught me selling at the high school.. not just weed but,” he nods, making a circular gesture with his hand, “like, real hard shit..” sighing softly again as his eyes meet yours, “he told me that he could turn me in and i’d be lucky to get a couple years, or he could get me a job down the station and we could forget all about it.” 

you can’t help the pang of guilt from seeping across your chest. you’d left pretty abruptly in ‘89, much to eddie’s defiance, leaving him to a  town full of people that either hated him or only acknowledged his existence when he was useful to them. 

there’s no question as to whether your departure was anything to do with him peddling hard drugs, that was a given. 

“well shit,” the frown between your brows deepening, “i’m sorry for opening my mouth,” brushing your hands down your apron, hoping that he would see the funny side. 

eddie just shrugs, sliding the empty coffee mug back over the polished wood top, “it’s alright, i don’t mind it actually, not much happens in hawkins anyway.” 

“i wouldn’t say that,” you frown, deciding that the mug would simply have to wait until tomorrow to clean, “there’s a bunch of ugly graffiti on the side of my diner,” quirking your brow, hoping it’ll serve as a reminder to why you’d even called him up here in the first place. 

his eyes sparkle in the dim light, creasing with contained laughter, “i told you i’ll paint it,” his chair scrapes across the wooden floor, straightening his hat, “where’re you staying now anyway? need a ride?” 

you shake your head, looking back at the clock, “i’m at my grandpa’s for the time being.. he should be here soon,” silently praying that he’d arrive so you weren’t forced to ride in the back seat of his patrol car. 

certain people would have plenty to say about that for sure. 

“alright well.. i’ll see you later,” saluting with his two fingers as he leaves. 

an indescribable feeling settles in your stomach. somewhere between melancholy and regret. 

maybe things would’ve been different if you’d stayed. 

maybe not. 

that’s what makes you the most unsettled, it’s a sick nostalgia for something that never even happened. 

a question that had plagued you for the past seven years, one you’ll probably never know the answer to either.  

you brush whatever wistful, reminiscent reflections out of your mind, turning the lights off to wait for your ride in the mellow july evening instead. 

-

the coffee machine hums, the only thing in this place that seemed to be used consistently. forced to make hundreds of bland black coffees for crony old men day in, day out. 

that’s how bored this place had you, pondering the feeling of the inanimate coffee machine. jesus christ. 

time creaks on by, ticking slowly as the sun clears off and the night settles in. one more hour and you’d be on your way home, ready for another night of re-runs and a stale tv-dinner with your grandad. 

you couldn’t complain really, he’d been extremely welcoming, sorting your own little bedroom out for you in his unused office. 

tires screech into the parking lot, crunching on the gravel, alerting you to that damned patrol car pulling up again. 

you watch as he does his little routine, strolling into the diner with a tiny smile, sidling up to the counter with such an air of self-importance, it actually makes you a little sick. 

“you come to paint the wall?” you quip, offering nothing but a tight lipped smile back. 

he clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth, “uh.. no, coffee actually,” pointing to the used and abused machine. 

“hmph,” shaking your head, “you promised.”

“yeah and i’m gonna do it,” holding his hands up, admitting that this was a battle he had already lost, “tell you what, i’m free all day next saturday, you get the paint and i’ll be here.” 

you don’t believe him, you have no reason to but alas, you nod anyway, “you better or you can kiss this friendship goodbye.” 

eddie grins, splaying his palms out flat as he shrugs, “so how about that coffee?” 

-

eddie makes sure to stop in every single day this week. and next. often for hours at a time until his walkie dragged him away and back to the work he’d been ignoring. 

like clockwork, his car crunches over the gravel, swinging in to the same spot without fail. 

nobody even looks twice as the bell rings, too invested in the financial times to spare a second of their attention. 

“you’re here an awful lot,” raising your brows, sliding your notebook back into your apron. 

eddie shrugs, placing his hat onto the counter, “what can i say? i like the coffee,” smiling innocently as he takes his seat. 

“oh i’m sure,” rolling your eyes in return, grabbing a mug and pouring his coffee before gently sliding it over the bar. 

he stays until close tonight, lingering behind as you lock up, no doubt pretending to offer some sort of protection though you’re absolutely sure that you’d be more capable of fighting off any potential threats than he’d ever be. 

you look at your watch, knowing your grandad should’ve been here by now. it was a long, treacherous walk back to his place, not exactly something you wanted to tackle at ten pm either. 

“you need a ride?” eddie asks, standing at his car with his keys in his hand. 

you press your lips together, taking another look at the ticking clock face on your wrist, “if you’re going that way, that’d be great.” 

his eyes roll back, knowing that even if he were driving to the other side of the country, he’d still take you home first, “c’mon,” opening the passenger door as you begrudgingly slink over. 

he certainly keeps his car in better condition than he ever kept his beat up, old van. sometimes it felt like you’d die from dust inhalation than his shoddy driving. 

“they give you this for free?” you ask, admiring the plush leather seats. 

“yup,” tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, “pay for the gas too.” 

“wowww,” feigning amazement, “you’ve got it good.” 

he glances over, scowling just so, unappreciative of your sarcasm, “who’s the one with a driving license and a car here? because it’s not you.”

your mouth falls open, blinking rapidly at his terrible attempt at a joke, “ouch okay,” hoping he’d regret his callousness, though it wasn’t likely. 

“i offered to teach you.. you could’ve been on the road by now,” his eyes leaving the road every other second, fingers itching to rest on your knee. 

“pffft. driving lessons from you? i’d rather walk.” 

you wish he’d just do it, his hands were twitchy, begging to make contact.  

they don’t. 

keeping on the steering wheel instead. 

but he chuckles, low and grumbly, “dustin didn’t wanna learn with me either for some reason.”

“oh wow yeah, i wonder,” turning to stare blankly at the side of his head. 

he glances over, shaking his head before turning back to the road, “you’re so mean,” throwing out a pathetic pout. 

the car rolls onto the familiar street, an unwilling sinking in your gut that the journey was over too soon. 

eddie taps the wheel, peering out of the window at the decaying row of houses, “jeez,” air blowing out of his lips, “hasn’t changed a bit.”

you shake your head, wanting to stay in the car just a bit longer, “nope..” emphasising the ‘p’ as you follow his eye to the splintering door. 

he nods, still staring straight ahead rather than daring to meet your eye, “i’m really glad you’re back,” his fingers playing a repetitive tune on the leather, “i feel like i’ve been waiting for you to come home for so long now that i wasn’t sure if you ever would.”

you hadn’t ever planned on it. 

dreams of new york had filled your mind for as long as you can remember. 

that was supposed to be it. 

and at the start it really did seem like you’d spend the rest of your life there. but a string of tumultuous relationships and an awful

boss had forced you back to hawkins. 

“i didn’t think i was ever gonna,” sighing softly, “i’m sorry for just.. leavin’ you,” turning unexpectedly bashful, “i thought about you all the time you know? new york’s not really that great but i think you would’ve made it better,” feeling the heat soar to your cheeks. 

it was true, at least, at the start. you’d often find yourself wondering about what eddie was up to or if he was thinking of you too. 

“don’t apologise for that,” shaking his head, “i get it. if i coulda, i woulda done it too. you’ll have to show me around one day when i’m-,” clearing his throat, “when i’m not stuck at work.”

he sounds off, something hidden in his tone that you really don’t understand. the moment too tender to query it too much, apprehensive to change the subject just as things had started to feel normal again. 

“i can do that,” turning to eddie to find him already gazing back. “you gotta give me a tour of the station first though, it’s only fair.” 

“deal,” eddie nods, offering his hand out for you to shake. 

you do it, not acknowledging his clammy palm or the way his fingers are shaking just so. 

“alright,” you nod, breaking the tension, “i better go, you’ve gotta busy day tomorrow,” reminding him of your long-awaited agreement. 

“wait-,” grabbing ahold of your fingers before you’re able to climb fully out of the car. 

you turn, eyebrow raised, “what?” 

he’s been so strange all night, like he’s edging to say something

“uhm.. what time did you say again?” 

you blink, baffled by his outburst, “uh.. anytime in the afternoon, i’ll close up early and come and help.” 

“o-okay yeah perfect,” letting go of your fingers. 

your face contorts but you keep your thoughts to yourself, he was pretty peculiar at the best of times, this was no exception. 

“goodnight eds,” finally closing the door, leaving him to his confusing little stupor. 

-

eddie’s there right on time, with a paint bucket in hand and the brush tucked into the pocket of his ratty, paint spattered shirt. 

he looks a picture, resembling more wayne than the eddie munson you knew. 

“what?” he questions your marvelling expression. 

“you look ridiculous,” tucking the cloth back into your apron to get a further look at his get up. his jeans closely resemble the ones he wore as a teen, tattered and torn with spatters of paint adorning the denim. it’s no wonder who he’d stolen his clothes from. 

“ouch,” clutching his heart, “i can just go home if you want? leave that graffiti on your wall?” 

“i didn’t say that,” tutting your tongue against your teeth, “go on out, i’m just gonna finish up in here and i’ll join ya,” ushering him back out the door. 

closing takes longer than you’d expect. mr. casey wasn’t best pleased to hear he had to finish his coffee and go, grumbling all the way out of the door and into his car. 

you make it outside just as eddie spreads the last lick of paint onto the wood, “nice of you to join me!” 

you stare up at the freshly painted wall, grateful to never have to look at the god awful eyesore every again, “doesn’t look like you needed my help anyway,” feet crunching against the stones as you make your way over to him. 

“what d’you think?” proudly showing off his work. 

your eyes scan the wall for anything you can make a quick quip about, only to find that he’d really done a great job. 

“yeah..” frowning slightly as you peer at the wall, “you just missed a tiny little spot,” gesturing for him to come closer. 

“what? where?” stomping over, displeased with your criticisms of his hard work. 

“right here,” grabbing the brush from his hand, smearing a streak of dusty grey across his cheek before immediately jumping back to admire your handiwork. 

eddie stands in shock, hands in the air while the cogs in his brain tick away slowly, figuring out how to get you back. 

he goes for the can, picking up the full metal bucket and angling it in your direction, a maniacal, nay, evil grin on his face. 

“don’t even fucking think about it eddie, i’m serious!” dropping the paintbrush in defeat, surrendering your hands in the air. 

he cackles, thunderous laughter that makes you shriek in response, hands flying over your face to protect yourself for the onslaught. 

eddie bounds over, the paint spilling over onto the floor as he goes, forcing you to brace yourself. 

except the paint doesn’t come, daring enough to open your eyes to find him a few steps in front. 

“come on,” he complains, “you didn’t really think i was gonna do it, did you?” 

“yes! i did!” 

he collapses into a fit of laughter, placing the can safely back on the ground, “i would never,” inching closer to prove his innocence. 

only, he isn’t at all. 

his fingers swipe the paint from his cheek to wipe the dusky colour onto yours instead, a perfect hand print encapsulated on your face. 

“you’re an asshole,” grabbing his wrist to redirect his paint covered palm back to his own face.

eddie is, no doubt, stronger than you are. twisting your arm until it’s tangled around your own body. encasing you within your own limbs, held tight by his own unfaltering grip and his chest pressed against your back. 

“what was that?”

“you’re an asshole and i’m going to scream if you don’t let me go,” an empty threat really, considering the dreary regulars had all shuffled off home and the nearest neighbourhood was a good mile east. 

“i mean, you can if you want to but i don’t think anyone’ll hear you,” snickering into your ear. 

you hadn’t anticipated that he’d now had years of experience with apprehending criminals, you were never a worthy opponent nowadays. 

you lurch forward, taking both of your bodies over to the wall, eddie’s clumsy clown feet knocking over the tin of paint on his way. splashing the bottoms of your legs and shoes with the ghastly stuff. 

you go stumbling into the still-wet wall, eddie following closely behind, pressing your back into the sticky paint. his chest heaves, still holding onto your arm though you’d come to face him now. his fingers twitch against your skin, slotting his between yours, holding your hand against the wall after the most painful few weeks of almosts. 

quickly, his other hand comes to cup your chin, tilting it up to meet his. in a split second he goes from staring at your lips to crashing his into them.

knocking your head back against the wall with such ferocity, years of tension and unanswered pining leading to this moment. 

“jesus christ,” he mutters through rushed kisses, “i’ve been waiting to do this for so long,” combing his dirtied fingers through your wild hair. 

your arms snake around his neck, surely spreading white finger prints across his clothes and into his hair, “you should’ve.”

the sun beats down on your skin, painting his face a glorious orange hue, wanting nothing more than to bask in this view for the rest of your life. 

eddie pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours, “you okay?” 

you’re breathless, chest heaving against his, “yeah,” falling into a fit of giggles, “yeah.. are you?” 

he nods, fingertips gently tucking strands of messy hair behind your ear, “yeah.. well, i’m better now,” ducking his head to lean in and meet your lips again. 

you’d read about sparks flying and all sorts of other romanticisms in books for years, brushing them off as exaggerated works of fiction, only now, the very happenings you’d denied were happening to you. 

to feel that someone’s lips were made so perfectly just for you seemed absurd, but truly, it was possible. 

eddie’s words rumble against your lips, incomprehensible as your brain is preoccupied with processing what was happening. 

“hey.. hey,” only really hearing him once he’d pulled away and was staring into your eyes with his deep, brown ones. “anyone home?” laughing at your vacant smile, as if he weren’t the culprit behind it. 

“just shut up and kiss me again.”

-

the evening winds down rather quickly, now covered in peeling eggshell paint, your uniform half-off, half-dirtied. 

you didn’t mind one bit, slowly making your way inside the diner to attempt to clean yourself up before heading home. 

“since we’re in here..” eddie starts, leaving you wondering what was going to come out of his mouth next, “coffee?” eyeing the machine you’d already polished and turned off. 

“seriously?” dead-eyed as you turn to face him. 

“i wasn’t lyin’ about coming for the coffee,” smiling from across the bar, “i just didn’t mention that i was also coming to see you.” 

your eyes roll back instinctively, however sweet he was being. 

eddie offers to take you home, a gesture of goodwill after you clean him up and fill him with free coffee. both of you skirting around the fact he had you pinned up against the wall just mere hours ago. 

if he’s not going to, you have to. 

there was no going to back to normal, not after that, not after he had proclaimed that he had been waiting for that. 

“pull over,” you blurt out. too loudly, too rushed that eddie can’t help but panic, questioning your urgency and most likely, safety. 

but he follows your orders, pulling into the nearest clearing, all the while looking completely panicked and a little unsettled. 

the engine is barely off before you’re sliding over onto the drivers seat, thighs resting either side of his as you skilfully lean down to push his chair back all at once. refusing to give him the chance to jabber his way out of this one. 

“hey.. woah, what the fuck?” chuckling softly though his hands reluctantly come to rest on your hips, eyes darting around the dark outside of the window, “i’m in my patrol car.. what if someone sees?”

“who d’you think’s gonna see?” 

“i-i dunno,” allowing himself to get comfortable, “but i’ll get fired,” reluctance in his throat. 

“you can come work at the diner, you’re there all the time anyway,” interrupting his worrisome whining with a kiss to the side of his lips, taking his bottom lip between your teeth. 

he indulges for a moment, sighing softly into your parted lips before hastily pulling away, “i mean it, i can’t,” gazing up to you with his doe-like eyes. 

“fine,” you grumble, sliding back into the passenger seat, “d’you wanna come over? grandad’ll be asleep by now,” picking at your fingernails like some teenager talking to her crush. 

that’s sort of what he was, an eternal crush that you’d never really get over. 

“you sure? we could.. i mean, wayne still lives with me but i’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” eddie offers, though the thought of doing anything in that trailer made you recoil and shudder. 

it was cozy and served you well during your adolescence but privacy was nonexistent, every breath or movement was projected very clearly into the next room. 

you shake your head, “i’m closer anyway, i’m sure it’ll be fine,” after years of living on your own, debating where the safest place to have sex was seemed like a hundred steps back. 

eddie can hardly focus, hand squeezing your knee the entire drive over. any longer and he’d have broken skin, that’s certain. 

but now it’s your turn, you can’t keep your paint tarnished hands off of him, the second eddie steps over the threshold and into the corridor, you pounce. wrapping your arms tight around his neck, pressing your lips together with such ferocity that he falls back into the wall. 

but he catches up quick, finding your waist as he walks the both of you up the hall, hungrily grabbing at the sliver of flesh peeking from underneath your shirt. 

a light at the top of the staircase flicks on, forcing your lips apart. 

“hi sweetie,” your grandad calls from upstairs, “good day?” 

eddie’s fingers squeeze your waist, sharing a panicked look before you clear your throat, “hey grandpa.. it was good,” knowing full well that he wouldn’t venture out of his room at this time to catch you, “i’ll see you in the morning, alright?” ushering eddie through the kitchen door. 

“okay, goodnight dear,” he calls, the light finally flickering off allowing you to release the breath you weren’t aware you were holding. 

silently pulling him down the tiny hall and into your converted bedroom, holding in a devious cackle. 

it really wouldn’t matter if he had caught you, grandad had always been a huge fan of eddie’s, cooking him dinner and offering him unsolicited dating advice during your teens. if anything, he’d be championing the ship. 

“oh my god,” you mouth, closing the door, your room was the tiny office space right at the back of the house, which in hindsight, seemed like the best option now. 

eddie’s hands find you again, resting on your hips with a sickening smile, “thought he was asleep?” 

your eyes roll back on their own, hooking your arms around his neck once again, “so did i,” guiding him towards the bed, “just be quiet and we’ll be okay,” rushing to unbutton his shirt. 

fifteen years of friendship boiling down to this very moment, a litany of teenage tension and hidden feelings bubbling to the surface all at once. 

eddie moves your bodies as one, lowering your back onto the bed with tepid hands, coming down on top of you, “i don’t know if i can do quiet.”

“well try,” you hush, connecting your lips in a haste, rushing to unbutton the rest of his messy shirt. 

grandad was partially deaf, the likelihood of him hearing anything was minuscule, but you weren’t willing to take that risk.  

his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, no longer the novice he once was apparently. groaning softly into your mouth with every slight move of his hips. 

you struggle with his shirt, his now-defined arms hold himself above you, leaving the fabric draped around his shoulders. you can’t complain, fingertips tracing over the solid muscle, a stark contrast to the spindly biceps you once clung to. 

he taps your hip, signalling for them to move, allowing him to slide your pants down your thighs. 

eddie had seen you naked a handful of times, mostly followed by you screaming at him to get or close his eyes. it was different then, when being naked in front of someone was the most personal thing you could ever do. 

now it feels natural, his hands roaming your body as if they’ve always belonged there. 

tossing his shirt to the ground before working on removing yours, all the while pressing hungry kisses to your lips, jaw and neck. chest heaving with the palpable tension. 

it’s mostly silent bar your concealed sighs and the sound of his lips smacking against the crook of your neck. 

he’s so hard, nudging against your aching core, you can feel it with every tilt of his hips, painstaking in the way he comes so close just to pull back again. 

your panties end up on the heap of clothes last, eddie’s teeth gnaw at his bottom lip, watching the lacy fabric slide over your supple thighs. 

“fuck,” gasping under his breath, marvelling your bare body. 

his boxers go next, your eyes trailing down to his slick cock, far different to how you’d ever imagined. 

there’s a slight jolt in your stomach, wondering why you’d ever waited so long for this to happen. 

you’d have to make up for lost time, secret pining and infantile crushes all gone to waste. 

two fingers tease your hole, shining in your release as they draw in and out. stifling the squeaks of pleasure into your palm, thighs closing around his arm. 

you could truly cum from this alone, so pent up, so turned on that just his thumb tapping at your clit had you clenching around his digits. 

“need.. more,” holding onto his bicep, refusing to let him prolong this any further. 

“yeah?” eddie nods, “i can do more,” positioning himself at your sopping entrance, waiting for your go ahead to slide in. 

“yes.. yes.” 

he slips inside with a groan, only, the groan doesn’t come from his lips, but instead the creaky old mattress holding you both up. 

eddie freezes, wide-eyed as his hips still. there was no way you could have sex on this old thing, at least not indiscreetly. 

your lips twitch, laughing at the sheer insanity of this entire encounter, the world was clearly against the idea of you two having sex. 

he falls into a quiet chuckle, still halfway inside of you at this point, “what should i do?” unwilling to disrespect your grandad while also being unwilling to give this up. 

you felt like a teenager again, sneaking around with boys you shouldn’t, except, this time you’re twenty five and far too old to be worrying about being caught in the act. 

“just- just fuck me,” you order, sick of the karmic interventions. there was only so much you could tolerate before things became too ridiculous. 

eddie’s eyelashes flutter, letting his hips move as your cunt envelopes him. 

“god- fu-uck,” fingers gripping at the sheets besides your head. beginning to lose his sanity already. 

your pants fill the room, closely followed by the sound of his skin colliding with yours. moving in perfect harmony around one another in a bid to keep this as quiet as possible. 

“eddie,” you sigh, loosening your grip on his neck only to cradle his cheek, meeting his eye in what was possibly the closest he had ever felt to anyone in his life. 

there’s no hope in this lasting much longer, not with the way he was fumbling his words, certainly not with his cock twitching as he reached new, otherworldly heights. though his strokes are slow, they make your legs tremble, his tip nudging softly against your sweet spot. 

your chin tilts, pressing clumsy kisses to the side of his mouth, panting in tandem with one another. 

there’s something skilful about the way he angles himself, sliding in and out of your glistening pussy, pulling almost all the way back out just to end up filling you to the hilt again. 

refusing to think about the implications of that. 

“sweetheart i can’t- won’t last much longer,” whining against your cheek, carelessly pecking the soft skin. 

“nearly.. nearly there,” you breathe, letting your eyes roll back, focusing on the way his core meets your clit and his soft cries that fill your ears. 

this gives him the much needed determination to not let himself topple over before you had. coming even closer as he lowers himself, using one hand to glide down to your throbbing clit, two fingers rubbing lazy circles in time with his messy thrusts. 

your stomach flips without warning, falling to pieces underneath his body as your thighs tighten around his hips. cumming around his cock, accompanied by incoherent mewls, an attempt to keep quiet though it fails miserable. 

eddie’s hips sputter, grunting with each feeble, final thrust. barely pulling out before he cums, thick ropes of his release paint your cunt and stomach. 

“ohh shit,” he curses, sitting back on his knees to assess his mess. 

heaving for breath as he searches frantically for something to clean you up, a reformed gentleman. there’s no way eddie of the past would ever think to do something so thoughtful. 

“there’s a towel.. somewhere,” gesturing vaguely to the floor, though your legs are intertwined with his, making it a much harder ordeal. 

he scrambles off anyway, sweaty skin on skin causing him to fumble, almost tripping over completely just to save himself seconds before disaster. 

your cackle erupts, watching him stumble around like a mad man. this had been anything but the quiet endeavour it should’ve been, and yet you can’t bring yourself to care. 

after years of waiting for things to fall into place, they finally felt like they had. like something had clicked and you were right where you were supposed to be. what you had been missing was eddie, a best friend before he was ever a lover. someone that knew you and not just the version of you the city brought out. 

“jesus christ,” he huffs, wiping his release from your stomach, “i tried,” tossing the towel back onto the floor, coming to collapse beside you. 

immediately nestling into his side, still giggling over his pathetic tumble, “you’re ‘bout as grateful as a baby deer,” placing a hand on his chest, much leaner than his teenage years. 

“be grateful i’m too tired to fight back,” sliding his arm under your resting body, bringing you in close. “god i missed you so much,” he sighs, melancholy out of nowhere, “i uh.. i..” trailing off into silence, while his fingers find their way onto your shoulder, drawing lines on the goosebumped skin. 

you’re too weary to pay too much attention to his muttering, dozing off to sleep with the help of his chest. there’s something about his thumping heartbeat that soothes your messy head, he could tell you in the morning if it were truly that important. 

-

a late august morning blooms outside the window, peeking through the curtains to pull you from your slumber. 

only to find an empty bed and the scent of bacon wafting into your bedroom. 

that can only mean one thing, and that petrifies you. 

there’s no saying what your grandad would divulge about you over morning coffee, he was terrible at secrets at the best of times. 

“..what’s going on?” rounding the corner with apprehension in your face, not wanting to disrupt whatever conversation they were having. 

you meet eddie’s eye first, his lopsided grin and messy hair making your own smile emerge, grateful that he hadn’t ran off during the night. 

“breakfast,” your grandad replies, sharp and snappy but soft as always, “we normal folks tend to eat it in the morning,” a dig at your late awakening, despite the clock only reading 9:30. 

“has anyone ever told you how funny you are?” pulling a face behind his back, purely for eddie’s benefit. 

your grandad hums, “i found eddie here, rather underdressed, coming out of your bedroom this morning,” transferring the greasy bacon onto a plate, thankfully avoiding all eye contact, though you can spot his cheeky smirk a mile away. 

“oh.. right,” catching eddie’s eye just to widen your own, terrified for what else he may come out with. 

there’s a silence between the three of you, only the sounds of cutlery clinking against the plates and your feet shuffling awkwardly around the kitchen. 

“i don’t care,” he announces, breaking the uncomfortably long quiet, “i think you deserve this more than anything,” finding your gaze, a gentle, sincere smile plastered over his face. 

“thank you grandad,” ignoring eddie for a second, you’d shared tidbits of your time in the city, but nothing compared to what your grandad had heard for years. 

“i mean it,” he starts, including eddie in the conversation finally, “you’ve both grown into remarkable young people and you..” pointing his fork at eddie’s smiling face, “you, i would’ve never guessed you’d grow up,” eddie doesn’t wince, taking his jabs on the chin, “but look at you.” 

eddie nods, grinning sincerely, “thank you sir, i appreciate it,” a tender moment that makes your heart swell. 

you don’t want to call it what it so obviously is, not yet. but watching him grin at your grandad, completely domesticated and tender, you can’t help but think about it. 

your grandad smiles, sliding plates of food in front of you both, “now get and eat this before it goes cold.” 

-

the diner had apparently become a circus of sorts, only you seemed to be the main attraction. 

now that things were partially out there and eddie didn’t feel so scared to let you ride him in his patrol car, people, namely his colleagues had become regulars at the diner. 

you wouldn’t have ever cared, really. it was bound to get out at some point and if this was going to be a permanent, serious thing, you’d have to meet them all eventually. 

what you aren’t fond of, is their incessant staring, the gawping and tittering about your endeavours. 

eddie hadn’t believed you, always arriving just after they’d left, leaving you feeling crazed all alone. 

except for today, too busy refilling coffee to notice his car pull up, his lackeys too busy watching you refill coffees to notice either. 

the bell rings above the door, your eyes flitting up to find him staring at the table. 

they notice one by one, quickly looking down into the mugs and unfinished eggs, embarrassed and rosy-cheeked. 

vindicated in your madness at last. 

“afternoon,” eddie nods, strolling over to the counter, looking more amused than the angry, stern eddie you’d hoped for. 

“hmph,” awaiting his reaction, 

“you weren’t joking, huh?” eyeing the rambunctious table, his chest puffed out to showcase his seniority. 

you scoff, rolling your eyes, “no,” making your way around the bar to grab his arm, “what’ve you told them? i thought we weren’t going to make this a big thing,” shoving the mug of coffee into his chest, though he didn’t deserve your hospitality. 

eddie holds his hands up high, a plea for his innocence, or forgiveness, “i just.. i told a few people about you. i’m happy, im sorry,” opting for puppy dog eyes. “i didn’t think they’d come up here to antagonise you, honest,” stroking your arm, a gesture of peace you can’t help but resist. 

your eyes narrow, slipping away from his grasp to get back to your job, “you’re so lucky i like you.”

-

eddie had stayed until close again, mumbling something about vacation and helping out. but you’re ravenous the second the door locks, a one track mind to get into his pants and out of yours.

tugging him by the collar into the kitchen, throwing yourself on him with such ferocity his body almost sends the cutlery to the floor as he holds the counter for stability.

“okay.. okay,” he laughs, breaking away from your lips to hoist you atop of the cold, steel counter, “rough day, huh?”

you nod, wasting no time in getting your legs wrapped around his midriff, arms draped over his shoulders. now that having this was a real thing, you didn’t want to ever stop. 

your lips find solace in the crook of his neck, working your way up to his ear, your teeth nibbling at the sensitive skin. 

“huh- fuck okay,” eddie’s hands clamp down on the surface top, enveloping you perfectly within his grasp. his uniform hangs off of his frame, disheveled by your wandering hands. 

eyes scanning the clearly empty restaurant for what feels like the thousandth time already, as if even he believed that someone would sneak in just to catch you two out. 

“eds please,” huffing frustratedly into his ear, “i practically own this place.. no one’s gonna find us,” snapping his distracted gaze back to your pouty lips, his hands settling on your hips almost immediately. 

“i know i know,” nodding along, “okay, shit,” further diving into the space between your legs, his cock teasing as it nudges your clothed entrance. 

“need you so bad,” jutting your bottom lip out further, fingers dipping below the messy collar of his button up, in dire need of something a little more substantial to satiated the ache between your legs.

his twitchy fingers struggle with the button of your jeans, failing him in his time of need. 

“ah fuck,” eddie gives up completely. head dipping into the small space between you, forehead resting on your chest. 

“what’s wrong? what’s.. what’s the matter?” you tug at his hair in an attempt to bring him back upright. 

he sighs, the warm air splaying across your exposed skin, “i gotta tell you something,” finally reemerging to meet your eyes, “you’re gonna be mad but.. i just need you to listen, okay?” 

your brows furrow, features crumpling in sheer confusion. he was terrifying like this, cryptic and coy. what could he possibly have to say that couldn’t wait until after you’d fucked? 

“what is it?” your voice trembling, still cradling his face, terrified for whatever he might blurt out. 

he sighs again. deep and guttural as his gaze flickers, “i’m.. sorry, first of all. for not telling you about this.” 

your anger and worry both grow increasingly stronger, “sorry for what? eddie, i don’t understand what’s going on.”

eddie pauses, brushing his thumb over your hot cheek, “i’m being shipped out on monday,” chewing down on his lip nervously. rightly so too. 

dropping the bombshell of the century at five in the afternoon as you sat pathetically, covered in grease and coffee stains all the while ridiculously turned on. 

“what?” 

his mouth opens but nothing comes out, he’d run out of things to say already. he’d had weeks and weeks to tell you, to at least prepare himself for what to say and this was the best he could come up with? 

“why didn’t you tell me?” dropping your hand, positively raging with the stupid boy, “how long have you known?”

you can almost hear the gulp, regret and guilt seeping through his face immediately, “the day after you got back,” sounding utterly pathetic. 

your hands push him back instinctively, anger pulsing through your veins, “and you didn’t tell me?” you slide off of the counter, shoving him backward. 

“i didn’t know how..” scrambling now, refusing to allow his cowardice ruin this, “i wasn’t expecting to fall in love with you again-“ 

“-don’t! don’t do that!” jabbing your finger harshly into his chest, “why didn’t you fucking tell me!” 

“because i was scared,” eddie somehow remains level-headed despite your lack of control, “i didn’t know that i was gonna feel this way or that you were gonna stick around again,” sighing frustratedly, “i never wanted to hurt you,” a complete and utter dejection in his voice. 

your lip trembles, tears threatening to spill over, “and you thought that not telling me would be any better?” 

“no! i didn’t..” shaking his head, hands reaching out one more time, “i wasn’t thinking at all,” you don’t push him away this time, too encompassed by your devastation to notice his hands grab yours. 

“you’re unbelievable eddie,” scolding him for his ignorance, but he can feel you relax into his touch, “three days… three days is all i’ve got to say goodbye again,” forlorn, already wishing away the year. 

what if he never come back? 

he could meet someone else, decide that hawkins was a dead end and stay the rest of his life with someone other than you. 

it’s unfathomable, the last time you said goodbye, you didn’t see him again for years. 

eddie’s eyes are wet, 

“wait for me,” he nods assuredly, “a year and i’ll be back,” trembling as he speaks, desperate to not lose you again, “please.”

“a year?” you fret, angry all over again, “i’ve just.. i’ve just got you back! you can’t-” struggling to breathe through your sobs, “what if you don’t come back? and then i’m stuck here for the rest of my life waiting for you!” 

“that’s not gonna happen,” pressing the rough pads of his thumbs into your wrists, keeping you in his hold, “i’m coming back for you,” wrapping your arms around his waist, pulling you into his chest where your cries become muffled wails. “i want to be with you forever. you don’t have to worry about that,” resting his chin atop of your head, drawing soothing patterns into your back. 

“promise me,” you blubber, pulling back just enough to catch his eye, “promise me that you’ll come back,” sniffling through your words, a mess that would scare any man from coming back. 

“i promise you, i’m coming back.”

[arbitrarykiwi]

I crave more thangyu x reader before/ no game! au your fic is 😫😩😫😖😖😫😩😩😣 *SCREAMS*

What's Better Than One Boyfriend?! TWO Boyfriends!!!: II

OH WHAT A DELICIOUS MEAL YOU BOTH REQUESTED!! Omg I got so much love on the original two boyfriends post!! And I’m so happy I did because these are so fun to write. I was sitting here kicking my feet writing this fr. I combined two requests for this one, I hope yall don’t mind🙏 as always thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! ORDER UPPP🗣️🗣️

Warnings: 18+ , drug usage , closed polyamory , swearing , some smutty parts / mentions of sex near the end , cum play , spit , probably ooc Thanos and Nam-Gyu, read at your own risk

You can find my other thangyu Two Boyfriends request here

You knew that agreeing to this relationship you’d have to please two people, give attention to two people, and you were well away of their chaotic personalities. But you did not expect that really at no point in your life are you alone now. Sure, if you’d ask nicely to have some time alone- they’d pout and give it to you- otherwise, if it wasn’t both of them with you; one of them was.

Thanos was like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any minute, he was always hyper and ready to run off with you and take you on various adventures. He was for sure an ass man, his hand always on your ass when you’re walking or bending over. He’s slapping your ass playfully as you three all head somewhere to eat lunch. When he’s walking with you his hand is 100% in one of your back pockets. He’s shitty with gifts, never really knowing what to get. He normally leaves the gift buying to Nam-Gyu. But, with his rap career picking up, he is always giving his dark haired counterpart money and telling him to buy something he thinks you’d like. And to also make up for his poor gift giving skills he often takes you shopping! Taking you wherever you like and telling you to buy whatever you pick up. He likes to say he’s not as touchy as Nam-Gyu, not as needy, but he always has to be touching you if he’s near you. Hand on your waist, thighs touching when your two sit together- just some sort of contact.

Nam-Gyu is the tamer of the two of them, balancing out the erratic nature that Thanos seems to bring to the table. Don’t get it twisted though, Nam-gyu can be just as chaotic. He’s walking into your apartment randomly and sneaking into your bed while you’re asleep because. Vary rarely do you three sleep apart, so the one night you all had work late- Nam-Gyu is texting Thanos to meet him at your apartment so they can use the key they have to enter and get to exactly where they belong- curled up next to you or on you. Nam-gyu is the one that is down for a nap whenever. You just want to stay the whole day in bed? Bet he’s getting up to close the curtains and return back in bed with you, almost immediately going back to sleep next to you. He remembers little things you said you wanted to buy but didn’t, leaving small gifts on your bed, hiding a package he got for weeks before he shows you it’s a hard to get item that you wanted and talked yourself out of because it was so expensive. And like the most perfect opposites they are Nam-Gyu is a huge tits guy. He’s laying on them, holding them, his mouth is sometimes just on your pert nipple for over an hour just because it relaxes him. When you’re walking somewhere with him- probably on the way to meet Thanos at some restaurant he found recently that he wanted to try- his hand is holding yours, fingers interlocked and pulled into his jacket pocket.

They just genuinely enjoy being around you. They swear you’re a drug yourself- claiming they get withdrawals without you nearby. Even if you wanted to go to the bathroom, just wanting to take a warm shower by yourself to relax- Thanos is on the counter of the bathroom sink, legs kicking back and forth aimlessly while Nam-gyu is sitting on the toilet lid. They’re passing a blunt back and forth, hot boxing the bathroom and making it more foggy than it already was by the hot water of your shower.

They always complain it’s too hot but never leave the bathroom. And as you turn the water off and rip open the shower curtain they’re both standing up quickly, Nam-gyu is wrapping you up in a towel and Thanos is holding a blunt to your lips. You glare at them, trying your best to seem annoyed but you can’t when they’re hazily smiling down at you with hooded eyes that are tinged red- and so your mouth begins to curl up in a smile to match theirs as you inhale the smoke.

They frequently fight for your attention. Nam-gyu more so compared to Thanos; but they both still need their precious baby’s attention! Thanos isn’t a stranger to pouting to try and get his way.

There was one time that you begged Thanos to let you finally dye his hair. The purple spray he used for the look damn near every day had stained nearly every pair of sheets you had with how easy it would come off with the slightest bit of friction. When all three of you were fucking?! Forget it- you would all come out stained purple. When he finally agrees you got him sat in front of you while you sit on the living room couch. You had to put on a show of his choice to keep him still enough to let you work your magic. Your hands work diligently against the bleached strands of hair, applying the vibrant purple dye over the entirety of his head.

The whole process was taking forever. It was a lot of steps!! And Nam-Gyu was getting fed up that Thanos seemed to have all your attention. Thanos himself didn’t have your attention captured- it was the bright purple dye that you had to apply with precision, less you stain him, you, or the furniture purple more permanently than his spray color he used to use- but Nam-gyu doesn’t notice the difference. All he sees is you’re not paying attention to him. He’s leaning down on the couch, slipping under your arms that work against Thanos’ hair to lay his head on your lap, looking up at you with a scowl. He’s trying hard to seem angry but all you can think about when you look down is a sad cat who just wants to be pet.

“What?” You ask between giggles as you look down at Nam-gyu. “It’s been hours…” he whines, “haven’t touched me at all.” He finishes, a glare still on his face. “‘M sorry baby..” you laugh again, only making him pout more but you couldn’t help it! He was just so cute. “I’m almost done! You were also the one complaining the most about being purple after we all fuck soooo- ‘m really doing this for you“ you draw out teasingly, “‘m almost done.” You say, leaning down and lifting your leg to raise his head- allowing you to place a quick kiss on your lips. You pull away and the kiss seems to make him relax a bit but there’s a look of deep thought on his face.

You quirk your eyebrow up at Nam-Gyu questioningly, your hands paused above Thanos’ head. “What if I want purple hair.” He mumbles, it’s quiet but it has both you and Thanos shocked. Thanos is spinning around to look at Nam-gyu, an accusatory eyebrow raised. “You’re jus’ being needy. You don’t want purple hair, just want ‘er to touch you.” He teases, poking Nam-gyu’s cheek with a laugh. Nam-gyu is swatting Thanos’ hand away and huffing. “No…” he grumbles, very obviously lying. He’s sitting up from your lap, “Was just thinking we could all match….i dunno, put a couple purple streaks in my hair and yours.” Nam-gyu says pointing to you.

And that’s how you ended up with purple streaks in your hair and Nam-gyu ended up with the underside of his hair purple. It was honestly adorable, all three of you matching. You took many photos of the three of you showing off your new style, you have a whole album dedicated to the three of you and your matching colored hair As time goes on you all keep it, eventually swapping colors- of course with Thanos choosing the color since he had the majority of his hair colored- it’s all about compromises!

They also take turns paying for your nails. They both seem to have their own kink for seeing your nails wrapped around their cocks or raking down their chests; and when they realized you went every two weeks like clockwork to get a cute new design, they begin taking turn handing you wads of cash to get your nails done. Who ever was paying would be the one to pick out the design. Thanos more often than not picked vibrant colors. Purples, greens, yellows- he even had you get them painted to match the pattern of his nails once. He loves French tip designs- something about them drives him crazy. He’s asks you to get crystals added or even a ‘T’ charm. Nam-Gyu usually picks dark colors. He loves seeing your nails all black with a deep blood red ombré or maybe deep blue set chrome details- of course like Thanos, he’s asking you to get his initial hidden somewhere on the design.

On weeks they’re feeling generous, they’re putting their heads together to find an extravagant design they both want to see wrapped around them. It’s one that has many add-ons, each nail a different design, different colored crystals littler the inspiration picture like a regal vault full of gems. And of course it costs more but they don’t care! When you finally leave the nail place and send them a picture of the nails they chose, not so innocently posed as if you had something cylindrical in your hand- they’re spamming your phone begging you to come back to your apartment so they could see your nails in person (and see them wrapped around their cocks).

In the relationship, surprisingly Nam-Gyu is the cook. He even ties back his hair and wears an apron. Oddly enough he seems to be able to make whatever you and Thanos want. You could simply be lounging on the couch with them, limbs entangled as you mumble about a specific craving you had- next thing you know Nam-gyu is crawling on the couch and heading to the kitchen. You can hear him rummaging, opening and closing the cupboards, beginning to call out various ingredients. Thanos-who knows his roll in the situation begins to type out a list on his phone, adjusting you off his arm and positioning you on his chest. His arms are wrapped around your back allowing you to feel the minuscule movements of his arms as he types.

When Nam-Gyu is done, he’s returning to the couch. Thanos is begrudgingly pulling himself off the couch, lifting you up a bit as he gets up, setting you in Nam-gyu’s lap. He grabs the back of your head pulling you to him and placing a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling back. “I’ll be back soon, the list isn’t too bad this time.” He chuckles as he grabs his keys off the hook by the door.

Nam-Gyu smiles when the door closes, pulling your back into him and beginning to place kisses all around your face in neck. It tickles, the rapid light touches has you giggling and squirming in his lap. As much as he loves the relationship you three have- he cherishes the moments he gets alone with you and has your attention all on him.

Thanos is off to the grocery store to pick up the ingredients that Nam-gyu requested. However, despite how many times he’s done this, and even him saying the list was easy before he left- he’s still texting Nam-gyu pictures of the items in rapid succession to make sure he’s getting the right item. It’s adorable really.

And as always, the meal is fucking phenomenal. You’d say it’s 5 star Michelin worthy but you’re sure that even the most expensive meal at the most luxurious restaurant could never compare to the full, warm flavor of the home cooked meals that Nam-Gyu makes. Anything he makes is wayyy better than any top chef- you know it and you always tell him. The sleeves off his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tattooed arms as he cooks. You’re happily hugging him from behind, standing on your tippy toes to hook your chin over his shoulder and watch him cook. You place a kiss on his neck right below his ear. “It’s not gonna be good if you keep distracting me pretty.” Nam-Gyu would hum out, pausing to turn more towards you and pull you into his side, turning his head and leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. He pats your ass a couple times and gently pushes you over to Thanos. “Help him break down the weed, I gotta focus on dinner.” The dark haired male says with a chuckle.

You’re pouting and walking over to Thanos who sits on the counter opposite the stove. He’s wearing a pair of shorts and has no shirt on, allowing you to see all his tattoos. You look up at him with a frown, “He doesn’t like me…” you playfully whine, it causes the both of them to laugh. “Mhm sure…he’s in an apron cooking for you because he hates you so bad.” Thanos teases, reaching up to cup your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks together. “You’re jus’ oh so needy, Señorita. There’s no satiating you- ever.” He laughs, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. You hum against his lips, standing up taller to press your lips against his harder. As he pulls away he tilts his head towards the rolling tray and the bag of weed that sits on the counter to his left, “Break it down f’me, sweetheart? I gotta break down the cigar.” He says in a sickly sweet tone, one that you simply cannot say no to. So you nod and he smiles, packing one more quick kiss on your lips before releasing your face.

Another bonus to add to the list of bonuses you get when dating the two of them- is they’re literally the best people to rant to. They’re both effortlessly sassy. They both think you could do no wrong- allowing you to bitch and complain about the littlest things involving work issues, friend drama, or even something as niche as a weird fixation you found on an internet deep dive.

You were lying on your back on the bed, your head at the foot end, one hand folded lackadaisically behind your head and the other holding the blunt to your mouth. When you exhale your hit you’re ranting on about a co-worker who pissed you off at work, how you have to do extra work because the others don’t do your fair share, even telling them about the workplace romances that bloom in the office. They’re sat on the edge of the bed, nodding along to your words, looking down at you- one of them on either side of you- and passing the blunt between each other and then back down to you with ‘mhm’’s and ‘ohhh’s coming out of their mouths.

“So yeah, she comes into my cubicle and looks at the picture I have of you two on my desk- you know the one from new years last year where you guys are on my sides kissing my cheek.” You ramble, interjecting to describe the picture to make sure they know exactly what one you’re talking about. “Oh yeah I remember that, you looked so good in that dress.” Thanos says, free hand running gently over stomach under your shirt. “It’s a good fuckin’ picture. How cute that you have it in your cubicle.” Nam-gyu adds.

“Mhm.” You nod, “so anyway she asks about it and I say ‘oh it’s me and my boyfriends’” You say repeating what you told your co-worker. They both smile when they hear you say it, waiting for you to continue. “And this bitch gives me the nastiest look and says ‘as in both of them? that’s disgusting’” you say angrily mocking her nasally voice and rolling your eyes.

“What a fuckin’ bitch!” Thanos says with conviction, “She’s prolly’ mad she can’t even get one man to stay with her let alone two.” Thanos scoffs, passing the blunt down to you. “Yeah…ain’t she the cunt that you said fucked the entirety of the IT department? Don’t mind that bitch. The fuck does she know. ” Nam-gyu muses, recalling other stories about this co-worker you told him in the past. He’s rolling his eyes at the thought of that cunt saying anything like that to you.

To add to the ways they contrast each other, while Thanos is all for PDA, Nam-Gyu isn’t. Thanos has no problem with slapping your ass in public or gripping your face to pull you into a messy kiss on the subway- he’s addicted to you, when he needs a fix he’s going to get it. Nam-gyu, although not big on PDA, he makes it known he’s with you- hand in yours, small kisses to your temple or quick kisses to your lips. The difference between the two of them gives you the best of both worlds truly.

And while Nam-Gyu posts you all over his social media- tweeting about you, he adds photos of you with songs attached to his instagram or his Snapchat, posting various photos of the three of you or just you to his instagram to boast about you to his followers, Thanos doesn’t. It’s not that Thanos doesn’t post you- he does! Just not to the extent Nam-Gyu does. Maybe it’s a photo of you and Nam-Gyu across the table from him at a fancy restaurant in the middle of a photo slideshow or a few Snapchat videos of him waking you up, finding your sleepy mumbles adorable. When the rap career kicked off he gained a lot of followers and he’s painfully aware of the crowd he attracts- he doesn’t like the prying eyes of sleazy men in the comment section of the photos he does post of you.

Sometimes sleeping in the same bed with them is miserable. You love them, you really do, and most nights you three are tangled in a cozy pile of limbs that lulls you into the deepest, most blissful sleep ever. But let’s be honest, you’re dating two men who love various substances- and with that comes the occasional night of restless sleep. They both will twitch, jerking against you and pulling you out of your sleep. Thanos snores and Nam-gyu drools- sometimes you find it cute, endearing even, but other nights it only makes you toss and turn more. Thanos has a tendency to run hot, becoming a human furnace that causes you to wake up and throw the covers off you. Nam-gyu runs cold, some nights you have to put a blanket over your body between the two of you to stop your shivering, wanting to hold him but genuinely not being able to sleep when his body that feels as if it’s made out of ice is engulfing you.

As much as they know you, you know them better. One of your favorite things is stopping by the gas station before you return home after a long day of work to get them a little gift. You lazily, but politely- it is 2am after all, anyone working that hour deserves some grace- ask the man at the counter for a pack of camels and a sour watermelon vape. You giggle at the strange look he gives you but you thank him, pay him and head home.

When you come home and enter your room you wish you had your phone out to take a picture. Nam-gyu is lying on top of Thanos, head on his chest. Thanos has his arms around Nam-Gyu slowly scrolling on his phone. They’re both just in a pair of boxers- making the view all the more enticing. You smile widely, “hey my loves!” You laugh, kicking off your shoes excitedly. Nam-Gyu is rising off of Thanos with a yawn and looking back at you.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Oh hell yeah! You’re back!”

You nod and begin to take off your coat. “You’re home later than normal. Where’d you go after work?” Nam-Gyu asks as he’s pulling off of Thanos to sit next to him, rubbing his tired eyes and resting his back against the headboard. You raise a suspicious eyebrow- Nam-Gyu was always so on top of your schedule, your itinerary of day to day life burned into his internal clock; he knew if you strayed from the normal.

“You caught me!” You say teasingly, “I made a lil detour on my way home” you finish, reaching into your purse and grabbing what you got for them. You toss the vape and the cigarettes on the bed, following in the footsteps of the packaged nicotine you jump onto the bed. “Ohhhhhhh!!! You’re the best!!” Thanos yells, immediately beginning to open the box. “God you’re a fuckin’ angel” Nam-gyu says, his words muffled as he uses his teeth to tear the plastic off the carton of cigarettes. They’re both squeezing you between them, covering your face in excited kisses.

They have albums upon albums of photos and videos of you on their phones. It’s images on you sleeping on their chests, candid pictures of you waking up tiredly-your hair a disaster and the camera clicks right as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. They have those silly .5x zoom pictures of you from above- Nam-gyu honestly loves taking them when you and Thanos are holding plates of whatever he cooked, looking up at the camera as he points his phone downwards. He always post the images on his instagram, it becoming a little ‘thing’ for him to show off his new dishes that he cooks.

They also have an insane amount of filthy photos of you. They botch can’t help the thrill they get when they record you in the most desperate and debauched situations- only for their eyes to see. Both of them have albums dedicated to your nudes and the photos / videos they take of you. Admittedly, they have the most photos of your cunt raw and messy from the both of them cumming in you.

If you asked both of them, they’d tell you it’s their favorite place to cum, without question. Nothing can ever compare to the feeling of your tight walls sucking them in as they cum balls deep inside you. Even better if you’re taking both of them at the same time!! Good GOD the amount of storage the videos they take of you taking the both of them deep into your tight pussy is actually insane. It’s not every time they do it, it would destroy you if it happened every single time the three of you fucked, but every so often when they both fuck you, their cocks rubbing against each other while they fuck into your sloppy cunt, they’re most likely recording it to look back at later.

If not cumming in your cunt- their favorite place to cum will differ. Thanos loves to cum on your ass or on your face- something about painting your skin with his white cum drives him insane. He loves blowing his load on your ass then rocking his cock in the valley of your ass as the rest of his spend costs your back. His hands are on the globes of your ass, squeezing and smearing his cum all over you.

Just like Thanos, Nam-Gyu is fucking messy. His next favorite place to cum is in your mouth. But he doesn’t want you to swallow it. Sure, he loves watching you stick your pretty pink tongue out to show him the pool of white before you swallow it like it’s honey, but what drives him crazy- straight up feral- is when you take your tits in your hands and push them together, opening your mouth to spit a filthy mix of his cum and your spit onto the swell of your breasts, your hands and those fucking perfect manicured nails squeezing your skin and spreading the mixture on your skin.

And like the perfect girlfriend you are- you match their freak perfectly. Learning and compiling every little thing that makes them tick to get the most reaction out of them in bed.

With the two of them, you’re never alone, you’re always entertained, and you’re oh so spoiled!! Two boyfriends are so much better than one!

I LOVE getting to write about my Thangyu x reader thinks!! It’s so fun >:) thank you for the request!!! As always, much love - <3 kiwi !

For the next few requests (in order of when I received them) we have: thangyu x thick!reader smut , Nam-gyu x naïve!reader smut , Nam-gyu x reader angst into fluff , and Myun-Gi x Reader x Thanos smut

If you’ve requested something and don’t see it yet on the ‘next up’, don’t worry! I’m moving through them and as I post the next requests will be added! I have the next couple days of work so I’m moving through them slowly but surely!

Requests are still open just be aware that it may take me a bit to get to them <3

[hischierjustscored]

accidentally yours.・゜・quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again 🥺 i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end 🧡

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratchin on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.5k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

But you couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, your lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled follwed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. And what you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking. Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off completly.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours. Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping our smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine, biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"I'm glad you do, we just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head.

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. Getting out his head like Jack said with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget fot the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she said, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him eiter. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to except for him.

A moment, A pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

I wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, the one that always told him you had him figured out when when he told you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm,"Can you at least pretend to fall for it?" just to get stuck in his throat.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back before he knows. He shifted again, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

But Jack was wrong.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he thinks already but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, shifing again.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", ignoring the "H" making it sound like a witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was Jack and Luke. Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Right? Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers. He wouldn't change that for the world now.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversation, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And if with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes"

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind. Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something, because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together,

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighinh as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Your record,” she rambled on, not getting the memo, "it was… kinda mysterious.”

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you just leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though, so like I said, all mysterious."

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, would he notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away. How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here,

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he hesistated, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being a good or person, or the simple fact that he was your emergency contact.

You needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them.

"What do you want me to say? You're the one who put my name down I didn't even knew until now or let you bolt out of here with an concussion like they told me?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

"Well, neither was I, and I'm fine", you muttered fixing you gaze on the sterile floor instead, on anything but the way how he was fixing you, "but let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time. and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved", it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

[mmywanda]

mommy!wanda teaching innocent reader how to suck her strap ??👀

men & minors dni !!

—

Mommy!Wanda had slowly introduced you to new things, such as camomile tea, homemade treats.. and bedroom activities.

You had always been an innocent little thing, so oblivious to the endless possibilities when it came to pleasure.

Wanda enjoyed corrupting you very slowly, like starting to slide her tongue into kisses, mentioning how wonderful if it would be to play with new toys.

Her next idea was to introduce you to her strap-on. Mommy!Wanda started off by encouraging you to suck on her fingers while on your knees. You were a little confused, but you never denied your mommy’s wishes.

This went on for a week until one particular dinner. Wanda had cooked a lavish meal, even lit some candles, all for this secret special occasion.

As you put your cutlery down and sipped on your juice (you weren’t allowed wine because apparently it wasn’t suitable for your innocent mind), Wanda shifted her chair back slightly, leaving a gap between her knees and the table. You watched curiously.

“Honey, come and kneel for me.”

Without any hesitation, you got up and knelt in front of Wanda, looking up with a sweet smile. Your mouth opened automatically, expecting two fingers, but she shook her head.

“We’re going to try something new today.” Mommy!Wanda unbuckled her belt, pulling them down a bit to reveal her deep red strap. Your eyes widened in surprise, because you’d never seen one before, only heard of them.

“It’s just like my fingers, but better. Can you suck on it, sweetheart? Mommy would be so pleased.” Her soft voice never failed to make you melt into a submissive, pliant state. So after a moment of figuring out how to start, you leaned your head forward, edging the tip into your mouth.

“That’s it, honey, just like that.” Wanda bit her lip, guiding your head down further, the strap halfway into your mouth. You whimpered, because it was a lot different than two fingers, but you were determined to please your mommy.

You reached the bottom, gagging slightly as you looked up at Wanda, noticing her pleasured expression. Although she couldn’t feel the strap, she got just as much pleasure watching you.

“Oh, princess, you’re a natural. Now, like this..” Wanda gently gripped your hair, guiding your head up and down until you got used to the motion, doing it yourself. Tears formed in your eyes, but you didn’t want to stop.

After a few minutes, Wanda finally guided your head backwards, away from the now wet strap. You gasped for breath, wiping your eyes and the corners of your mouth quickly.

“You did so well, baby. Mommy’s so proud of you.”

Wanda continued to praise you, even a few hours later when you were curled up in bed. You wanted to do it over and over if really pleased Wanda so much.

“Maybe tomorrow I can teach you all the other things we can do with that toy, hm?” She suggested, and you nodded eagerly.

Mommy!Wanda chuckled at how quickly you agreed to everything. You really were her innocent girl.

—

Ugh writing this changed my brain chemistry.

[mssorceressupreme]

Our Deal | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x hufflepuff!reader (works for any house really, except gryffindor for story purpose)

Summary: stuck in detention with Fred for a prank you never did, grants you the deal of a lifetime. Fred would help you get with your crush, Oliver Wood, and you get him with his, Gabriella Moon, in time for the Yule Ball. Though, as you spend more time teaching each other how to "flirt", complicated feelings start to arise.

Warnings/content: hufflepuff!reader, subtle enemies to lovers, mutual pining, jealous!fred, protective!fred, jealous!reader, mentions of alcohol, parties, quidditch injury, injured!reader, tension, flirting, kissing, teasing, Yule Ball

Wordcount: 6.8k (got carried away and kinda wrote a mini fic 😭🙏🏼)

———

“This is entirely your fault,” you snapped, bending down to scrub at the sticky residue on the stone floor. “I had nothing to do with that prank.” The potions storage room air reeked with the scent of something foul, probably from whatever concoction had spilled from the shelves earlier today. All thanks to that stupid explosion caused by none other than the twin's prank just outside the room.

You gestured around at the remnants of the prank—green goo still dripping from the shelves, a set of abandoned dungbombs rolling near the base of Snape’s desk. Crossing your arms, you huffed as you glared at Fred, who was leaning against the wall with that insufferable smirk, clearly enjoying your misery.

Fred chuckled, tossing a sponge into the air and catching it lazily. “Yeah, yeah, tell that to Snape. You just happened to be there, hands covered in fluorescent goo, looking guilty as hell, which might I add, doesn't help with your case.”

“I was cleaning up the mess, Fred, not causing it” you gritted out, shoving the bucket closer to him. “Unlike you, who just stood there laughing while George ran for his life.”

Fred grinned, bending down to soak his sponge in water. “Ah, Georgie. Quick on his feet, that one. Maybe you should take notes for next time.”

Lucky for George, he managed to escape Snape's fury, leaving the stupendous detention task of reorganising and cleaning the entire potions storage room to the two of you.

“There won’t be a next time because I don’t do pranks,” you retorted. “Unlike some people.”

Fred gasped, pausing from squeezing the water out of his sponge, “No pranks? No mischief? Merlin, what a dull existence.”

You scowled, but your lips twitched. “Not all of us live for chaos.”

“You sure? Because you seem to enjoy my company a lot for someone who claims to be innocent,” he teased, turning his attention to scrubbing the fluorescent goop from the floor.

“Oh, shush If I weren’t such a good person, I’d leave this room right now and tell Snape about the other pranks you and George are planning.”

Fred turned to face you, holding back a doubtful laugh as he momentarily stopped scrubbing, “You wouldn't dare, Y/L/N.” his tone sprinkled with a hint of mockery.

You rolled your eyes, dipping your sponge back into the murky water. “Unfortunately you're right.”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Because you secretly like me?”

“Because I’m not a snitch,” you corrected smugly. ____ An hour later, you were balancing on a stool, reaching for a jar of pickled salamander eyes while Fred stacked vials below. You glanced down at him, waiting for him to pass you more vials for the higher shelves.

A small played on his lips, Fred exhaled softly before handing you another vial, “Alright, since I do feel a tiny bit bad about dragging you into this, I’ll make it up to you.”

You raised your brow suspiciously. “How?”

Fred’s smirk returned. “The Yule Ball's coming up, right? I’ll help you get with whoever you want."

"In return, you promise not to rat me out about, oh, I don’t know, the prank in the Great Hall last week. Or the one from two days ago in McGonagall’s class. Or the—" He continued but you interjected swiftly.

Your eyes widened slightly, finally registering what he just offered. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, placing another vial on one of the lower shelves. “You name the bloke, and I’ll be your personal matchmaking genius.”

"You're kidding." You pressed your lips together, skeptical.

"Am not." He affirmed, "Go on, the look on your face says you have someone in mind Y/N."

A slow grin spread across your face, but you hesitated. "No one in mind." You shrugged.

Fred folded his arms, eyeing you up and down before tilting his head to the side, "I'm sensing...someone....taller than you?" Yeah, no kidding.

Without thinking you retorted, "Yeah obviously he's taller than me." Your hands flew at the speed of light to cover your mouth while turning to face away from Fred.

You hoped to hide your flushness, but you ended up losing your balance on the stool in the process. "Merlin, don't tell me you're quite literally falling for him." Fred quickly held your waist, steadying you before you could meet the ground. You grabbed his shoulder for support before adjusting yourself and returning to your respective task of arranging the vials on the upper shelf. You hadn't planned on telling anyone about your secret crush on Oliver Wood, but here you were, letting these words slip aimlessly out of your mouth.

Fred took your silence as an answer, curiosity lingering in the air.

"Ah, so there is someone on your mind." He pressed, "And who’s the unfortunate sod you fancy?"

You paused, feeling the heat of his gaze from below, "Oliver Wood..." You mumbled all too softly; even the house elves, with their sharp hearing abilities, wouldn't be able to decipher what you said.

Exhaling, you got down from the stool, standing in front of Fred and avoiding eye contact at all costs. He took slow tentative steps toward you, bending down to your level so he could hear, "Come again?" You could feel his breath on your skin.

Your eyes found his, not registering how close he was, "Oliver Wood." Your face tainted a light shade of red.

Fred choked on air, a loud chortle escaped him, "Wood? The Gryffindor Captain, Mr. ‘Quidditch is My One True Love’?"

"Shut up," you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks. You placed a hand on his chest and shoved him away playfully, "Don't tell anyone! I'll vanish off the face of this earth if you do."

Fred laughed, shaking his head. “Blimey, you’ve got high standards.”

“I barely know him, but he’s just—” You sighed wistfully. “He’s so kind and driven and—”

“Obsessed with Quidditch?” Fred interjected.

“Yes, but in a dedicated way,” you said dreamily.

Fred snorted. "Merlin, alright, fine. I’ll help you. But just know that if I have to listen to you swoon over Wood for the next month, you owe me more than just detention duty."

You beamed. “Deal.”

“Good. Because I might need your help, too.”

You tilted your head, furrowing your brows. “With what?”

Fred leaned forward conspiratorially. “Gabriella Moon.”

"Gabriella? As in, my Gabriella?"

"I didn’t realise you had ownership over her," Fred mused. "But yes, your Hufflepuff friend."

You nodded, grinning. "Oh for sure, I can definitely help with that. Piece of cake."

Gabriella was in your house, a sweet and kind Hufflepuff, and you got along with her well. Setting her up with Fred should be a simple, easy, task.

"Alright, Weasley. You’ve got yourself a deal."

Fred held out his hand, and you shook it—sealing a pact neither of you realised would completely change everything.

"Our deal." He affirmed.

____ The deal meant spending more time together. At first, it was simple things—giving each other tips, practicing flirting, and being seen together enough to spark curiosity.

One evening in the Great Hall, Fred joined you at the Hufflepuff table. Your friends sat with you, but you were so engrossed with Fred, that everyone seemed to disappear into the background, feeling as though it was only the two of you in the hall.

Fred leaned in with a smirk after placing a dinner roll on your plate, which he knew you enjoyed pairing with butter. "Alright, say I’m Oliver—how would you charm me?"

You exhaled dramatically. "Fine." You turned to him, putting on your best smile. "Hey, Oliver, fancy seeing you here. Do you always look this good after practice?"

Fred chortled, nearly choking on his pumpkin juice. "Merlin’s beard, that was atrocious."

You gasped, smacking his arm. "It was not!"

"It was!" Fred wheezed, clutching his chest. "Try again, but maybe without sounding like a lovesick poet."

You scowled but tried again. "Alright, then. How about this—‘I hear you’re the best Keeper Hogwarts has ever had. Think you could keep me?’"

Fred blinked, then groaned throwing his head back. "Oh, that was painful."

You shoved his shoulder, laughing. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," he teased, winking. "Now, do I get a turn?"

"Go on, then," you challenged, crossing your arms.

Fred turned, propped his elbow on the table, and smirked. "Hey, Gabriella," he began, "are you a Snitch? Because you’ve got me chasing after you."

You stared at him, face scrunching up in disgust. It was as though you had just witnessed a crime.

He wiggled his eyebrows before taking a mouthful of peas, chewing as he awaited your response.

You burst out laughing. "Oh, that’s horrible. No wonder you need my help."

Fred's mouth dropped, "Excuse you, that was a good chat up. Thank you very much."

You both laughed, completely unaware of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs watching the way you two bantered—how Fred’s eyes softened when you laughed, how you bit your lip when he grinned. You weren't super close to Fred, just casual friends, but you had to admit, these few recent days had you seeing him in a different light, he was more carefree around you, cheery, and you felt yourself coming out of your shell, all thanks to him.

You were confident in approaching Oliver now, and all the more excited for it.

____

"No, no! Merlin, Fred, you're going to scare the girl away if you look at her like that." The next few days were all about perfecting your tactics, anything to impress your targets, of course.

"Like what?" He sat beside you on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. It was a Saturday, and naturally, most students were either at Hogsmeade, outside, or sleeping in, leaving most of the space to the two of you.

"Again! Again..." You waved your hands, ushering him off the couch. "Pretend I'm Gabriella, and I'm sitting on a bench somewhere nice. You've just walked into the place, and you see her."

Fred straightened his shirt, retreating from the couch, before strolling over to you again, a devious smirk painted on his face, his hair slightly tousled and messy. He held his chin up high, and his arms swayed beside his lanky figure as he approached you.

"Y/N? Fancy seeing you here!" He beamed, pretending to act out the scenario.

"Wrong." You corrected, "Not Y/N, Gabriella." You flashed your brows, and he exhaled, walking away to take his place once again.

He strolled to you, once more, "Gabriella! Haven't seen you in a bit! What brings you here?"

You nodded, indicating he was doing a decent job so far, encouraging him to continue.

Fred plopped himself beside you, your knees were touching and he extended an arm around you.

"I"m good! This is my favourite place to unwind actually." You fake-mocked Gabriella, pretending to be her in this situation.

"Well, then I guess you'll be seeing me here more often, darling." Fred leaned in, you could feel his body heat against you, and you blinked before shaking your head.

"Darling? You barely know the girl!" You chuckled, and Fred's eyes glinted with awe as you threw your head back, he had not realised it, but your laughter ignited a warm honey like feeling in his chest.

"Fine, what about love? Baby? Babe?"

"No no, save those for when you're actually with her, but I suppose 'love' is a good place to start."

"Alright, love." He teased, and you playfully smacked him but an idea popped into your head, and immediately, you got into character.

"If you say so, Oliver." You pretended to act as if you would in this scenario with Wood.

Fred, still seated next to you, glanced down from your eyes to your lips.

You leaned in, tilting your head and gazing from his left eye, to his lips, then to his right eye. You smiled sweetly, blinking slowly as you gave Fred your full attention, staring at him with doe-like eyes, "So, Oliver, how was quidditch practice today?"

Fred gulped, eyes blinking rapidly as he coughed, "G-Good."

You smirked, lowering your voice, "I'm sure it would've been better if I was there with you." You bit your lip as you glanced at his lips.

"You should come to the next one." Fred responded softly, smiling as he leaned in, ever so slightly, one arm still wrapped around you, and you were fully within his proximity.

You could feel your breaths against each other; his scent crept its way to your nose, and you scrunched it. He smelt like fresh grass on a hot summer's day and clean laundry in the fresh breeze, something you'd never noticed before.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, but the portrait door clicked open, and some students returned from their trip to Hogsmeade.

"That was, uh, something I'd say if I was with Oliver." You quickly dismissed this, leaning back to a comfortable distance. Fred cleared his throat, and removed his arm, "Yeah, that was good. See, told you I was a good teacher."

You scoffed, "You? Please that one was all me."

"S'pose you are getting pretty good at this, annoyingly so, in fact." He hummed and you mouth dropped slightly,

"Is that a compliment?" You beamed, wiggling a happy dance in your seat.

"Don't get too cocky Y/L/N, I have yet to see you interact with him." Fred laughed, attempting to hide his awe for your little dance.

____

Days passed, and you found yourself spending an increasing amount of time at the Gryffindor table, supposedly to get closer to Oliver. But somehow, you always ended up next to Fred, bickering, laughing, sharing food.

People noticed—Hermione tried, and failed miserably to hide her excitement for you two, George outright smirked, Ginny started whispering to Harry, smiling at the thought of the two of you, Ron was amused at how Fred could pull someone as gorgeous as you.

Only you and Fred knew about your deal, to them, they saw this as a newfound friendship, alliance, even...romance? Hermione seems to think the latter describes your relationship perfectly.

You brushed it off, for you knew that you were only helping each other, and once the deal was over, you would go back to normal.

The topic of quidditch was no foreign topic at this table, Harry making remarks about how he'll confront Malfoy, Angelina and George talking about the Nimbus 2000, Oliver and Fred discussing a new game plan.

"Hey Y/N, why don't you come watch us at practice today after lunch, it'll be fun." Oliver invited you, and you blinked in surprise.

"I'd love to!" You chimed, "How could I pass on a chance to support the best quidditch team at Hogwarts?"

Oliver beamed, laughing softly at your enthusiasm, "Ooh careful now, don't want Hufflepuff's quidditch team to hear that now do ya?"

"Consider me an ally of both teams." You chuckled, and he grinned, smiling warmly at you.

"Surely you become an honourary Gryffindor for the day?" Oliver raised his brow, before taking a bite of his toast.

"Won't miss me too much when I switch back to Hufflepuff would you?" You teased.

"Then I'll just ask you to join Gryffindor again."

You were about to pour yourself some orange juice, but Oliver moved at the speed of light, "Here, let me." He poured a glass for you, then one for himself. "Fred? Some for you too?"

"Nah mate, I'm pretty full."

Fred silently watched the two of you interact; a part of him was happy and proud, seeing the way you effortlessly interacted with Oliver, but there was this foreign feeling inside him. Like a splinter poking him from the inside, if that were even possible.

His eyes darted from you, to Oliver, then back to you.

Each time you paid attention to Oliver, laughed at his quips, his charm, a small part of Fred wanted that attention from you, again.

He wanted you for himself.

Fred shook his head, dismissing all these thoughts, where were they even coming from? He knew one thing thought, he was being silly thinking about you like this.

However, Gabriella was starting to become a long-forgotten thought.

The only person consuming his mind lately, seemed to be…you.

Fred exhaled, taking a sip of his water, hoping to refresh his mind from whatever nonsense he thought about.

It didn’t matter anyway because after this deal was done, and you were happy with Oliver, that was it. You’d go your separate ways, well, mostly. That was, after all, the whole point of you becoming close with Fred.

"By the way, is it alright if I bring a friend?" You asked Oliver.

"The more the merrier!"

"I'll bring Gabriella." You whispered trying to contain your excitement, nudging Fred who was seated beside you.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts, "Oh, yeah, that'll be great."

____

Later that afternoon, you sat in the stands with Hermione, Gabriella, and Ginny, watching Gryffindor’s practice. Oliver was in his element—focused, determined, calling out plays.

Your eyes were glued to him, who looked impossibly handsome as he soared through the air, his hair ruffled by the wind. He turned, caught your gaze, and waved with that signature kind smile of his.

Your heart stuttered and a faint blush crept on your cheeks, moments like this only pulled you in deeper. Part of the reason you fell for him, was that one day you were lost and he helped you find your way to class. Being younger than him, he felt the duty to lookout for his juniors, he was patient, kind and made you feel right at home when you felt lost. His kindness was just so endearing.

"Go Oli!!" You cheered, and Oliver waved at you again.

"Nicknames already?" Hermione, seated next to you, smiled knowingly and you chuckled as a response.

"Fred looks really determined today, isn't that a good look on him?" You nudged Gabriella, hoping to steer her focus onto Fred.

"Yeah, he does look kinda cute." She agreed, grinning up at him. "Also, thanks for inviting me Y/N, this is really nice." Gabriella turned to you, smiling sweetly. She was a kind soul, much like you, always helping others and making sure everyone felt comfortable. Of course guys would fancy her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Fred. His red hair caught the sunlight in a way that made it seem almost golden, his strong frame relaxed but still commanding attention as he sat on his broomstick, laughing with George.

There was something about him today—maybe the way his sleeves were rolled up, or the effortless confidence he carried. And for some reason, your found your heartpace steadily increasing as you continued observing him.

No. No, this was about Oliver. You shook the thought away and focused on the Gryffindor Captain instead.

Moments later, Angelina, Oliver, and Katie flew over, beaming. “Oi, you lot! Come play a friendly match with us!” Angelina called, gesturing eagerly.

You hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know... I’m not really—”

“Come on, it’s just for fun,” Oliver encouraged, flying closer. His eyes met yours, playful and inviting. You wanted to impress him. So, against better judgment, you stood and dusted off your robes. The four of you made your way down to the grassy field, and used some spare brooms.

Ginny, Hermione, and Gabriella exchanged amused glances but joined in as well.

You borrowed a broomstick—the nearest one, which happened to be Fred’s. "Can I?" You smirked, turning to Fred who took a quick break, reaching into his bag for his bottle.

"Yeah yeah, if you break it I'll crack your head." Fred teased, before chugging his water. With that, you kicked off the ground, feeling the rush of wind as you soared into the air.

The game was lighthearted, filled with teasing and playful competition. You and Oliver found yourselves in the same airspace often, exchanging witty remarks and laughter.

It felt effortless, easy. Below, Fred stood watching, arms crossed, watching in amusement as you 'bonded' with Oliver. Though you weren't sure if amusement, was the right word to use here, seeing how he kept tapping his foot.

“You’re getting the hang of this!” Oliver grinned, flying beside you.

“I’m just trying to keep up,” you joked, glancing at him.

So caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice the Bludger hurtling toward you until it slammed into your shoulder with brutal force.

Pain exploded through your arm, and your broom wobbled violently beneath you. You gasped as your grip faltered, and before you knew it, you were falling.

The ground rushed toward you, and you thudded harshly on the grassy patch. Ouch.

Oliver flew down hastily, but before he could reach you, Fred was already there, kneeling beside you, face pale.

“Are you daft?” he scolded, voice tight. “Didn’t you see that Bludger?”

You winced, trying to sit up. “It wasn’t that bad—”

“Not that bad? You fell from twenty feet up,” he snapped, his hands hovering over you like he didn’t know where to touch in case he hurt you further. “You’re going to the hospital wing.”

Oliver finally reached you, eyes filled with concern. “You alright?” He looked from you to Fred, who was still kneeling beside you, jaw clenched.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but Fred wasn’t having it. Before you could protest, he scooped you up effortlessly, ignoring your weak protests.

“You’re being overdramatic,” you huffed, but your heart betrayed you, beating erratically against your ribs as Fred carried you toward the castle.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he shot back, striding forward without a second glance at Oliver, who remained standing on the pitch, watching with an expression that hinted he had figured something out.

He observed as Fred held you close, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, "Hm." He was so sure that you and Fred were just friends, but the way Fred acted today made Oliver doubtful.

The others stayed back to practice, you assured them that you were fine, and that there was no need to come. ___

Madam Pomfrey fussed over you, muttering about reckless students and dangerous sports as she poured a bitter healing potion down your throat. “You’re lucky it wasn’t a full-speed hit,” she chided, waving her wand to mend the bruising on your shoulder.

Fred stayed beside you the whole time, leaning against the infirmary bed with that signature mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “So, you were trying to impress Wood, huh?” he mused, arching a brow.

“Shut up,” you muttered, cheeks warming.

“Not my fault you nearly died doing it,” he teased, nudging you playfully. “Maybe I should give you some lessons on how to survive Quidditch.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I should give you lessons on how to stop being so intolerable.”

Fred smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You laughed, the earlier pain fading into the background as the two of you fell into easy conversation.

He stayed with you the rest of the day until you felt better enough to head back to your dorm.

____

The next day, the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match had the entire school buzzing with chatter. The game was brutal, with Slytherin coming in close, though Gryffindor still came out victorious.

The moment the Snitch was caught, the stands erupted into cheers, the players celebrating mid-air before descending to the field. You watched Fred among them, his face lit up with triumph. When his eyes met yours, something unspoken passed between you.

And you weren’t so sure anymore if Oliver Wood was the one making your heart race.

You, Hermione and Gabriella made your way down to the team, "You guys smashed it out there." You chimed, clapping for the them.

"Couldn't have done it without your support." Oliver walked over to you, hi-fiving your hand which you extended for him.

"You played amazingly, especially in the second half! Fred—the way you hit the bludger right before it touched the ground, just, wow!" Gabriella beamed, waving her hands around expressively.

"Hey, all in a day's work." Fred expressed, cockily brushing his hands together which earned a giggle from Gabriella.

"You know, you should come to the party tonight, hosted by yours truly." Fred shuffled closer to Gabriella, extended his arms as he gave himself credit for hosting the party.

"More of a team effort actually, he just talks too much." Lee quipped, "But yeah, you guys should come. Gryffindor common room, at 7."

"We'll be there." Gabriella replied for the two of you, twirling her hair as she smiled sweetly at Fred.

You were happy for her truly, especially Fred, who was grinning back at her, engaging in a new conversation about what'll transpire at the party tonight.

You were happy. Yes, you were.

But, does someone who is supposedly happy for their friend, feel a pit in their stomach every time they watch them with their respective crush?

____

"How do I look?" Gabriella asked, gesturing to her outfit, fitted flared blue jeans and a yellow peplum top, with a yellow bow to accessorise.

"You look stunning, Fred's going to love it!" You chimed, "Oh wait, here-" You helped straightened her bow from the behind, "Perfect."

"Look who's talking, Oliver's going to swoon over you when he sees you in that black dress!" Gabriella stood beside you, looking in the full body mirror, shaking with excitement for the party.

The two of you made your way over to the Gryffindor common room, met with a few ravenclaws and fellow hufflepuffs by the portrait entrance.

It was no surprise that the common room was alive with celebration and merriment. You and Gabriella stepped inside, immediately greeted by George and Lee, who enthusiastically showed you around.

"Welcome welcome! You guys look great!" Lee hyped you two up, always the enhusiast.

Laughter, chatter, and the warmth of victory filled the space. As your eyes scanned the room, they landed on Fred and Oliver by the fireplace, who spotted you and beckoned you both over with bright grins.

After a while of lively conversation in the group, you and Gabriella naturally parted ways—her heading away to the couch with Fred while Oliver guided you to where his friends stood.

You chatted and laughed, but something felt off. Your attention was divided, and no matter how much you tried to focus on Oliver and his friends, your eyes kept finding Fred’s.

Across the room, you noticed his eyes constantly meeting yours, just as much as yours longed to find his.

You were snapped out of your gaze when one of Oliver’s friends playfully nudged you, shoving a drink into your hands. “Come on, have some firewhiskey on me! You’ve got to celebrate properly!”

"Oh wow, where'd you manage to get that?" You asked, curious as to how he managed to sneak in alcohol. Granted, he was older than you so it was fair to assume he was more daring when it came to liquor.

"I have my sources." The guy wiggled his brows, "Come on, drink up Y/N, join us!"

You hesitated. “I’m good, really.”

“Oh, don’t be a buzzkill. Just one!” He pushed again, grinning as if it were a challenge.

“I said I don’t want to.” Your voice was firmer now, but he rolled his eyes.

Oliver sensed your discomfort and interjected swiftly, “Knock it off Felix. She doesn’t have to drink if she doesn’t want to.”

"Alright alright, you're just a wee girl after all innit." Felix chuckled, "More for me then."

Wee girl? Merlin, who does he think he is? You scoffed to yourself, shifting closer to Oliver.

Still, the group laughed it off, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable, wanting to be anywhere but here. You excused yourself quickly, heading upstairs to a quieter gryffindor study room.

The party noise faded, and you sank into one of the couches, taking a deep breath.

A knock came at the door, before it slowly opened.

Truthfully, a wave of relief washed over you when you saw Fred entering, his usual smugness replaced with something softer. “Saw Felix being a git, it's safe to say he won't ever bother you again.”

Fred's implication that he had a word with Felix made you all the more relieved, you exhaled softly, nodding.

You smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

He stood at the doorframe for a second, inspecting your state before slowly walking over. The couch dipped upon the weight of him as he sat beside you.

“You okay?” He nudged you with his body gently.

You nodded, looking forward though you felt his gaze on you. “Yeah. Just needed a minute.”

He listened intently, offering you the silence you much needed after the earlier commotion.

There was a pause before you turned to face him, “How’s it going with Gabriella?”

Fred shrugged. “Good,” he lied, then exhaled. “Alright, fine. She’s nice, but I think I bored her to death. She’s talking to Neville about some plants now.”

You chuckled. “Plants are fascinating.”

“To you, maybe. Not exactly my best topic,” Fred admitted. "Might buy a bouquet or two, but other than that I'm clueless."

"If you do, red roses are the way to go. She loves them, practically every girl does."

"Including you?"

"I adore them. Sounds a bit basic but they're a classic for a reason, they're just so...romantic." Your eyes glistened as you spoke about roses, dreaming of the day someone would buy you flowers.

"Noted, I'll pass a good word to Oliver." Fred chuckled, smiling at the way your eyes lit up, but his smiled disappeared when you frowned, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I think I’m losing it with Oliver. I feel like a total idiot for not drinking in front of him and his friends."

Fred shook his head. “Nah, you’re not an idiot....maybe a little, but not a full blown one." You slapped his arm playfully, but he continued, raising his hands in defence, "If anything, that makes you better than them. You don’t need to do anything to impress him, so what if you don't feel like drinking?”

"I don't think I'll face him again, if his friends hate me, he'll probably grow to dislike me." You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

"Nothing a little flirting can't solve," Fred was optimistic, attempting to cheer you up in this moment of despair, "Next time you see him, get more touchy. When you laugh, place a hand on his arm, lean on him, lean in to him...y'know, the usual."

"Ugh, in front of his friends?" You grumbled.

"All the better, shows you've got game." He continued to give you tips on how to approach Oliver again later, helping you plan your next move.

It was only fair of you to return the favour, leaning in slightly. “Right, so, lean in when you talk to her, like this,” you said, demonstrating the closeness.

Fred swallowed, blinking at you. “Like this?” He mimicked you, your shoulders were touching all the more, your face near his neck, his mouth a few inches away from your forehead.

You nodded, voice softer now. “And maybe say something like… ‘Your eyes are a remarkable shade of hazel, I never noticed how stunning they were until up close now. They sparkle beautifully in the moonlight, yet they manage to shine even brighter when you're caring.’”

It was meant for Gabriella. But as you spoke, something in your chest tightened. You were speaking to Fred. Really speaking to him. His hazel eyes met yours, and he leaned in once more.

His mouth parted slightly, as his eyes darted to your lips then back to your eyes. You found yourself leaning in too, your breathing became heavy.

Your heart felt like it was going to pounce out of your chest with the rate it was beating.

The air between you stilled as you both realised the weight of your words.

Before he could respond, the door creaked open. You and Fred jumped apart just as Oliver and Gabriella entered, looking at you both in confusion.

“There you are, we were wondering where you two had vanished off too.” Gabriella remarked, her eyes darting from Fred to you.

Your heart raced and Fred's face flushed a shade of red. Though completely innocent, if felt as though you were caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing.

Flustered, you quickly went to Oliver, while Gabriella made her way to Fred.

The rest of the party carried on, fun and lively, but you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that lingered. No matter how much you tried to focus on Oliver, your gaze kept drifting back to Fred.

____

The anticipation leading up to the Yule Ball had everyone on edge. With the Yule Ball near approaching, the talk of the castle revolved around the ball; students asking each other to the dance, flowers being exchanged, and whispers filling the corridors.

You woke up that morning with only one name in your mind—Fred Weasley. It was irritating, really. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about him. You liked Oliver. You were going with Oliver. And yet, Fred’s stupid, mischievous grin had invaded your thoughts like an unrelenting charm.

At breakfast, you sat with Gabriella at your usual hufflepuff table, chatting about the Yule Ball. She was gushing about how beautiful everything was going to look, the magical snowflakes, the ice sculptures, the romantic lighting. You smiled along, but your mind was elsewhere. Across the hall, Fred was laughing with George, but every so often, you swore you caught him glancing at you.

After your 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' class, you walked out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione when Oliver approached. He was holding a bouquet of red roses, his confident smile making you a blushing mess.

"Y/N," he said warmly, holding out the flowers. "Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?"

You paused, then beamed. "Of course, Oliver. I'd love to!" He pulled you in for a warm hug while students around you cheered, and whistled loudly.

You were happy—you really were. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? But as you took the roses, a strange heaviness settled in your chest.

Later that day, you found yourself with Fred, helping him prepare to ask Gabriella. You were ranting about Oliver, swooning over how charming he was. Fred, though smiling, was already fuming inside. He wanted to be happy for you. He wanted to believe this was all fine. But every word you spoke about Oliver grated on his nerves.

"Do you think Gabriella will like this?" Fred asked, holding up a box of assorted chocolates, changing the topic quickly after countless nods and 'that's great' as a response to you gushing over Oliver.

You turned to him, considering. "Yeah, she will, can't go wrong with chocolate. You got this, Freddie!"

"Right," he said, running a hand through his hair, looking more uncertain than usual. He was prolonging it, he knew it. He didn't want to ask her. He had someone else on his mind now. But what choice did he have? You were already going with Oliver.

When he finally did ask Gabriella in the courtyard, you cheered for him, clapping as she said yes. It was the right outcome—technically, you both won. And yet, watching Fred grin as he hugged Gabriella filled you with an unexpected wave of envy.

_____

The Yule Ball arrived in a flurry of excitement. You walked down the stairs with Oliver, arm in arm, dressed in your most elegant red gown. Across the entrance, you saw Fred with Gabriella. You both gave each other thumbs-up and smiled, though your smile never quite reached your eyes, nor did Fred's.

As you approached the entrance, Oliver and Gabriella walked in first, conversing with each other, leaving you and Fred standing alone for a moment.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets before breaking the silence, "So…we both got what we wanted."

You exhaled, forcing a smile. "Yeah…we both got with our dates. All too smoothly, I might add."

You both chuckled, but there was an undeniable weight in the air.

"You look nice, cleaned up well for Oliver eh? Lucky bloke." Fred joked, though his voice was laced with subtle serious undertone.

"Hm, you don't look like a grindylow for once, I see you clean up pretty nicely too."

He chuckled softly, removing his hands from his pockets. Neither of you moved, it was as though a silent message of 'please stay here with me' was shared.

You hesitated before extending your hand. "Thank you, Fred. For everything."

He took your hand, shaking it lightly, but neither of you let go. There was a static, a spark, if you would, something both of you didn’t want to ignore. You both looked down at your touching hands, then back to each other.

Oblivious as to what the other party was thinking, the two of you decided to ignore it, let go, and move on, for the better, right?

"So, that's our deal done then?" you said slowly, though regretting it.

Fred swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah. I'll, uh…see you around school then."

Your heart clenched, but for the sake of the ball, you put on your best grin. "I'll see you around, Fred."

You then turned to Oliver who was a few steps ahead, extending his arm to you. As you walked with him into the ballroom, you turned back one last time.

Fred was still standing there. You waved. He waved back, smiling—but his eyes told you that there was something masked beneath that smile. Gabriella came up to him, and they walked inside together, you turned forward to let them have their moment.

The ball was everything you imagined—beautiful, magical, enchanting. Oliver was the perfect gentleman, twirling you around the dance floor, kissing your hand, your cheek, your forehead, even. He got you punch, held the door open, pulled out your chair, he was the ideal guy, truly ticking off all your boxes.

You smiled at him, but your heart was never quite satisfied, there was a space yet to be filled.

And you hated that you knew why.

Your eyes kept drifting to him. He was dancing with Gabriella, but his mind was far away. Uncomfortable. Lost.

You chuckled to yourself, shaking off this silly feeling, turning your attention back to Oliver, who was explaining about his latest tactics for the upcoming Quidditch match with ravenclaw.

____

Later that night, Oliver walked you back to your common room. He leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You lips curled up into a grateful smile, thanking him for the wonderful evening, but as he turned to leave, something inside you snapped.

If something was wrong, you needed to fix it. Merlin, what's the point in waiting? If something didn't feel right, your gut knew that you had to fix it right away. And this, was one of those moments.

You turned on your heel and ran in your red gown. Through the castle, past students, up and down staircases—you had no plan, no direction, just a need to find him.

Until you did.

At the main staircase, you froze. Fred was at the bottom, looking up at you. He was holding a bouquet of red roses.

Your throat tightened, immediately regretting your decision. "For Gabriella?"

Fred shook his head. "No." He stepped forward, "They're for you."

Your paused, holding your breath as he started walking up the stairs, to you.

"Y/N, I—" Fred hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "I don’t want Gabriella. I don't think I ever did, truthfully. I just…I wanted to be with you. And I was too much of a git to see it until it was too late."

Tears burned at your eyes. "Fred—"

"I don't care about the deal. I don't care about anything except you. I don't want to ever lose you Y/N. And if I have to watch you with Oliver one more time, I think I might actually go mental."

He was close now, the roses in one hand, the other reaching for you.

You let out a shaky laugh. "You're such a git, you know that?"

Fred grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek and tucking it behind your ear. "Yeah. But I’m your silly git, if you'll have me."

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. You surged forward, crashing your lips to his, your hands gripping his suit. He dropped the flowers, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

It was passionate, desperate, hungry, everything you had ever wanted but had been too blind to admit. The kiss of two people who were starving and desperately in need of each other. Fred savoured every bit of your mouth, as though tomorrow would never come, ending with a sweet peck.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, a grin sprawled across that deviously handsome face of his, his hair messy but Merlin, it was such a look on him. "So, I take it that’s a yes, love?"

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his. "Yes, you fool."

Fred cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek once again. "Best deal I’ve ever made."

[beautifullilacsky]

It was late, and he had to go to work early again tomorrow. Though, when he mentioned that he was trying to fall asleep after asking me if I am tired, I wanted to help in a way. So, I offered him a massage. Little did I know it wouldn't help him sleep soon at all. We started talking more, and at one point we talked about which parts of my internship I enjoyed, and which I did not. Based on the fact that I am enjoying the designing part, he thought it could be a nice idea to look into jobs in that region. Yes, he was right; I told him about the job that I found interesting; UI/UX designer. I explained it a bit, and he said that the back-end part sounded more like programming. Then, I hesitated for a moment but decided that this is the exact moment to say it. I guess I had been a bit scared. A bit scared he'd find it useless, or out of character, or ... I don't even know. Anyway. Now it was time to spill how I figured that for (a part of) this job, programming might be needed, or a plus. So, that is what I've been learning for the past 2 weeks. He asked what exactly I was learning, so I explained the app and the languages that I was working on. He fairly noted a couple of times that I was getting shy, which, I was. He said I really didn't have to be, asking me to come lay besides him again. "Are you doing it because of me? Or because of the CC thing?", I was happy to assure him that no, I did not learn this for him. He thanked me for telling him about what I've been doing these days. I thanked him that eventho he knows that people aren't using these coding languages, he didn't demotivate me. According to him, it is really good to know the basics. I don't remember the exact order, but I do know he told me I was cute uncountable amount of times, accompanied with many back kisses. Also quite a few "I like you"'s.

"You know, if you want, you can use my desk or we can get you another monitor". I hesitated a bit, being my comfizone self who is afraid the double screen will be so good I'll not want to live without it. He said he can only offer, and I said it'd actually be nice. "Okay, we will look into it tomorrow afternoon then". He also kept his appropriate distance, while showing me his support, by saying that if I had any questions, I knew who to come to. Yeah. If anyone can answer my questions, it's him. Mt smart smart boy.

Anyway. I thanked him for listening and I apologized for keeping him awake for long. He didn't mind it at all. Instead, he was grateful. He went on to touch me. "Hey, boyfriend, have you looked at the clock?". He again, didn't mind. He was awake, and so was I. If I wanted him to stop, he said he would, but I honestly didn't. After he went down on me for a while, I pulled him back up. He kissed my neck and asked me if I was okay. I was, but I felt the time pressure, making it harder for me to reach that point, putting even more pressure on, etc etc. "Oh no. You don't have to feel pressured; all you should do is enjoy. We have all of the time in the world, okay? Take all the time you need. Really, don't feel pressured", he assured me multiple times. I asked for teamwork, which allowed him to softly tell me more loving words, such as saying he liked me, how I was hot, and how I was being a good girl. After I finished, he asked me if he should stop, and that I could say "no" to the question if it felt good. He sucked on the skin of the area between my neck and collarbone as I came for the second time. That was insanely intense. He already thought I did the first time, but now I actually did start crying. He held me, making comforting shushing noices, "go ahead, let it all out. It's okay, you can cry".

A lot of back kisses, sweet words and a tiny bite later, I fell asleep into his arms. Sjeesj, he made me feel SO SO insanely safe and loved. He said all of the right things, and knew exactly what was going through my brain, using that info to calm me down. He owns my heart, and I wouldn't want it any other way. I am so sure that it is safe in his hands.

[luvst4rc0r3]

HII so idk what's going on with the whole pregnant reader thing but I feel like u stabbed me bcz why u gotta make it so sad😭 but I thought about the idea that after reader's miscarriage and Jinx takes in Isha, she gets a taste of what it's like to be a mom and it gives her the hope to try again. But then after Isha dies, everything all goes to shit again (events of act 3 play out), but then after Jinx gets out of jail and teams up with Ekko, she goes to reader and says something like "once this is all over, we're getting out of here." And they move to bildgewater together and have an actual child there in a more healthy and happy space :)) maybe for a time skip part but idk lol, anyway just thought I'd leave this here!! Live laugh love Jinx

request: Your “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

It was super interesting.

And also made me cry😭😭

Can you write a happy ending for it?

TY if you do

request:I'm gonna need a good ending where Jinx and r have the baby and live happily ever after because that last ask fucked me up😭😭😭😭

"But good things don’t always last forever"

Jinx x F!Reader

WARNINGS: DEATH, MENTIONS OF MISCARRIAGE!! WC: 3165

NOTE: erm I hope yall are ok now.

Summary: After a heartbreaking miscarriage, you fall into despair, but Jinx—determined to bring light back into your life—unexpectedly finds a little girl named Isha, who needs a family just as much as you both do.

PT.1

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The hideout was quiet. Too quiet.

Jinx hated it.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing her leg as she watched you, curled up with your back to her, shoulders trembling under the blanket. You’d barely moved in hours. Days. It felt like weeks.

Jinx wasn’t great with words, but she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t make it better. The grief sat heavy between you, thick and suffocating. She wanted to tear it apart, blow it up, do something—but this wasn’t something she could fix with bombs or bullets.

So, she stayed. As much as she wanted to run from feelings, from pain, she stayed.

She reached out, brushing her fingers over your arm.

���Hey, toots…” Her voice was softer than usual. Hesitant. “Y’wanna get outta here? Just for a bit?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even stir.

Jinx sighed. She pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder before getting up.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered.

You didn’t respond.

Jinx wandered the streets of Zaun, hands stuffed in her pockets, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. She hated seeing you like that. Hated knowing there was nothing she could do to take away your pain.

She needed to find something. Something that could help.

It had been weeks since everything fell apart—since the baby was gone. Since your heart had shattered into something unrecognizable. You barely left the bed, barely ate, barely breathed.

Jinx never said it, but you knew it scared her.

She’d always been the reckless one, the impulsive one, the wild one. But now, you were the one slipping away.

And Jinx? She didn’t know how to stop it.

So, she did what she always did when the world felt like too much. She ran.

Jinx wasn’t looking for a kid.

She was looking for a fight, for trouble—something, anything to pull her out of her head. Out of you and the way you wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

But what she found was a girl.

Small. Filthy. Silent.

Fell on top of her while some guys chased her.

Once Jinx shot off the guys she crouched in front of her, frowning.

“Hey, shorty. What’s your deal?”

No answer.

The girl just stared.

Jinx clicked her tongue. “Oh, great. You’re broken too.”

Still nothing.

Jinx was about to leave—she wasn’t in the business of picking up strays—but then she saw it.

A fresh bruise, deep and purple, blooming along the girl’s cheek.

Jinx’s stomach twisted.

“…Shit.”

She wasn’t good at this stuff. She wasn’t you. But you… you would’ve stopped. You would’ve helped.

And maybe, just maybe, if she brought this kid home, you’d look at her again.

Jinx sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

“follow me or not. I don’t care”

She followed.

She studied the kid. Dirty, scared, alone. Just like she used to be.

Maybe… maybe this was it. The something she’d been looking for.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

You didn’t know what to think when Jinx came home with her.

You sat up in bed, blinking blearily as Jinx strolled in, dragging a small, silent child behind her.

“Babe, meet Isha. Isha, meet Babe.” Jinx grinned like this was normal. Like she hadn’t just brought home a whole person.

You just stared.

“…What?”

Jinx flopped onto the bed beside you, throwing an arm over your waist.

“She fell on me. Didn’t say a word. Figured, y’know, she could use some better company. We could use some better company.”

You looked at the child.

She was thin. Too thin. Her hands were curled into tight little fists, her lips pressed together in an unreadable line. She looked… wary. Not scared, not trusting. Just waiting.

For what, you weren’t sure.

But you knew that feeling.

Jinx sighed against your shoulder. “You’re not mad, are ya?”

You swallowed. No. You weren’t mad.

You were just… tired.

But when you looked at Isha—really looked at her—something deep inside you cracked.

Maybe it was the way she wouldn’t meet your eyes. Maybe it was the way she stood, stiff and defensive, like she expected you to tell her to leave.

Or maybe it was the way, despite all of it, she still stayed.

“…She can stay,” you murmured.

Jinx made a triumphant noise.

Isha didn’t react.

But when you got up and grabbed a blanket, draping it over her tiny shoulders, she didn’t flinch away.

That was enough.

For now.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The first few days were quiet.

Isha barely made a sound. You barely spoke. Jinx bounced between watching you both like a hawk and blowing things up in the dead of night, like movement could stop her from thinking too hard.

But, slowly, something shifted.

It started small.

You’d wake up in the morning, roll over, and instead of being met with an empty bed, you’d find Isha sitting on the floor, drawing.

She wasn’t great at it—her little hands were too shaky, the colors smeared—but it was something.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you wanted to do something, too.

So, one day, you sat beside her.

She tensed—always waiting for rejection—but when you picked up a crayon and started drawing next to her, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she handed you a blue one.

That was the first good day.

Jinx practically vibrated with excitement when she saw the two of you, sprawled out on the floor, doodling nonsense.

“Holy shit, progress!” she cheered, flopping onto your back. “Babe, you’re alive again!”

You snorted, nudging her playfully.

“This is a miracle!” Jinx gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Someone get me a camera—this belongs in the history books!”

Isha watched Jinx’s antics with wide eyes, and when you turned to her, you swore you saw something flicker on her face.

Something close to a smile.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

You couldn’t sleep much anymore.

ever since everything.

And tonight? Tonight was bad.

She woke up to the sound of you breathing too fast, fingers twitching in your sleep.

She didn’t hesitate.

Sliding closer, she brushed your fingers through your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Babydoll,” she murmured. “Wake up, love.”

you gasped awake, eyes darting wildly until they landed on her.

She didn’t say anything. Just held you.

Your arms wrapped around you tight—desperate, grounding—and for a while, you both  just stayed like that.

Then, small movement.

You looked up.

Isha stood in the doorway, blanket clutched in her hands, staring with wide, uncertain eyes.

Jinx let out a breath, forcing a smirk. “Hey, shortstack. Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

Isha hesitated, then shook her head.

You lifted the blanket, silently inviting her in.

For a moment, she stayed frozen. Then, carefully, she climbed onto the bed, curling up between you both.

Jinx snorted. “Well, well. Looks like we’re officially outnumbered.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Isha’s hair.

And for the first time in forever, you slept through the night, peacefully.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It started with a rainy day.

Zaun’s skies were always grim, but today, the rain came in heavy, flooding the alleyways and making the apartment feel even smaller.

Isha sat by the window, watching raindrops race down the glass. Her little fingers traced them, following each droplet with quiet concentration.

Jinx groaned dramatically, sprawled upside down on the couch, legs hanging over the backrest. “I’m bored.”

You smirked, looking up from your book. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” she shot back immediately, flipping onto her stomach. “Entertain me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not my job.”

Jinx gasped, hand over her heart. “Wow. Rude.” Then, she perked up, eyes gleaming. “Wait. I got it.”

She jumped to her feet, startling Isha, who turned and blinked.

“Pillow fort.” Jinx grinned, pointing dramatically at you. “Right now.”

You raised a brow. “Aren’t we a little old for—”

Jinx was already tearing cushions off the couch.

Isha watched her with wide, curious eyes.

Jinx caught her staring and grinned. “Whaddya think, shortstack? Wanna help?”

Isha hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded.

Jinx let out a victorious whoop! and tossed a blanket over her head. “Welcome to the chaos, kid!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

Within half an hour, the living room was transformed.

Blankets draped over chairs, cushions stacked like castle walls, fairy lights strung across the ceiling. It was warm, cozy, perfect.

Isha crawled inside, eyes wide as she ran her hands over the soft fabric.

Jinx flopped down beside her, arms behind her head. “Not bad, huh?”

You sat across from them, watching as Isha slowly, carefully, curled up between you both.

For the first time all day, she relaxed.

Jinx smirked, nudging you playfully. “See? Told you it was a good idea.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. You win.”

Jinx puffed out her chest. “Damn right I do.”

Isha watched your banter, something soft in her expression. Then—carefully, hesitantly—she reached out and took your hand.

Your breath caught.

She turned to Jinx, then did the same.

Jinx’s eyes widened.

Neither of you spoke.

You just squeezed her tiny hands, warmth blooming in your chest as the rain pattered softly outside.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It started with Jinx.

Because of course it did.

She thought it would be hilarious to put blue dye in your shampoo.

You stepped out of the bathroom, dripping wet, staring at her with murderous intent.

Jinx, sprawled on the couch with Isha in her lap, burst into laughter.

“Oh—oh my god—babe, you look—” She was wheezing, wiping tears from her eyes. “I—I’m sorry, I can’t—”

Isha, sitting innocently beside her, covered her mouth, eyes shining with amusement.

You crossed your arms. “You think this is funny?”

Jinx gasped for breath. “Babe, c’mon, you’re literally blue!”

Isha let out a small, breathy giggle.

You smirked.

“Alright, Powder,” you said sweetly. “Game on.”

Jinx’s laughter stopped.

“…Wait.”

By the end of the week, it was war.

You switched Jinx’s sugar with salt.

She short-sheeted the bed.

You put hot sauce in her morning coffee.

She filled your boots with glitter.

Isha, watching the chaos unfold, was delighted.

And then—

The prank truce.

Because somehow, somehow, Isha got caught in the middle.

Jinx had set up an elaborate bucket trap for you, but you weren’t the one who walked through the door.

Isha did.

The bucket tipped.

Flour everywhere.

A long, long silence followed.

Jinx paled. “Oh. Shit.”

Isha, completely dusted in white, blinked.

You braced for tears.

But instead—

She grinned.

Then, the softest, most mischievous giggle bubbled out of her.

Jinx gasped. “Babe.”

You were already smirking. “She’s one of us.”

Jinx wiped a fake tear from her eye. “I’m so proud.”

And just like that, Isha became the ultimate prank war champion.

You had created a monster.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Your life finally feels complete again.

For weeks you felt alone and scared. 

Scared that you failed Jinx.

You saw Jinx actual feel like she has a purpose again.

But then—

when you both were finally settling in your guy’s new life.

she was gone.

But now—

you guys have Isha

finally feel full again.

but good things don’t always last forever.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It happened too fast.

One second, you were all together—fighting, running, surviving.

The next—

Isha was holding a gun.

Your breath caught in your throat, legs moving before your brain could catch up.

Jinx screamed.

“Isha!”

Jinx lunged.

She almost made it.

Almost.

Isha’s eyes met yours—And then—

She was gone.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

And then—nothing.

Silence.

it wasn’t fair.

Not again.

Not her.

Not your baby.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Everything burned.

Piltover was drowning in smoke, fire licking at the streets, sirens screaming in the distance. The air was thick with dust and blood, and the world felt like it was cracking apart.

And maybe it was.

Maybe you were.

Jinx stood beside you, gun smoking, eyes wild. Her fingers twitched on Fishbones, but her grip was steady. It always was in a fight.

She turned to you, breath ragged, face smeared with dirt and sweat.

“Once we’re out,” she rasped, voice raw from screaming, “we’ll get the life we always wanted.”

You swallowed, gripping your own weapon, heart pounding against your ribs.

“Jinx—”

“I mean it.” She reached for you, gripping your wrist like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “No more running. No more fighting. Just us, babe. We’ll leave. Start fresh. We’ll have—”

She choked on the words.

But you knew.

She meant Isha.

She meant family.

She meant the life that was stolen from you both.

Your throat tightened. “Jinx…”

“I swear.” Her eyes burned, desperate, pleading. “Just hold on a little longer. Please.”

You exhaled shakily.

Then—slowly—you nodded.

Jinx let out a breath, pressing her forehead to yours.

For a moment, just one, the war didn’t exist.

It was just you and her.

Like it used to be.

Like it could be again.

If you survived.

If you made it out.

Jinx pulled back, smirking despite the blood on her lip. “C’mon, babe.” She lifted Fishbones. “Let’s finish this.”

And so, you did.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The war ended in fire.

You made it out.

Barely.

With nothing but your weapons, the clothes on your backs, and the weight of ghosts in your hearts—

you both flew away.

Flew away from the wreckage. From the war. From everything.

And when you stopped running—

You were in Bilgewater.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The first thing you noticed was the salt.

Bilgewater smelled like the sea—like salt and spice and damp wood. The docks groaned under the weight of ships, traders shouting over each other as people bustled past.

It was chaotic. Loud. Messy.

It was perfect.

Jinx stretched, arms high above her head, letting out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Smells like fish and crime,” she said, grinning. “I love it.”

You snorted. “You would.”

She turned to you, nudging your side. “You sure about this, babe? New place, new start—no more blowing stuff up for fun. You ready for that?”

You exhaled, looking out at the ocean.

The wind was soft here. The sun actually touched your skin instead of hiding behind smog.

You turned back to Jinx, taking her hand in yours.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m ready.”

Jinx’s grin softened.

She squeezed your hand.

“Then let’s go home.”

It wasn’t much.

Just a small shack near the docks—rickety, barely standing, but yours.

Jinx spent weeks fixing it up, scrounging for parts, muttering about “engineering genius” and “making this place badass.”

You just watched her work, heart full for the first time in what felt like forever.

Because she was happy.

You both were.

No more war. No more running.

Just waking up with Jinx tangled around you, her hair messy, her breath warm against your neck.

Just late nights on the rooftop, watching the waves, talking about nothing and everything.

Just peace.

And one day, as Jinx lay beside you, fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm, she whispered—

“We made it.”

You turned to her, brushing blue strands from her face.

“We did.”

She smiled, soft and real, and for the first time in a long time—

There were no ghosts.

No war.

No grief.

Just you and her.

And the life you always wanted.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Bilgewater had been home for a couple months now.

The war was a distant memory, just a story told in whispers between you and Jinx when the nights stretched too long and the past felt too close.

Life had settled.

Jinx still tinkered, still got into trouble, still stole things just because she could. But she was happy. She laughed more, slept easier, held you like she was afraid you’d slip away in the night.

And you?

For the first time in your life, you were at peace.

But something was missing.

Something you and Jinx didn’t talk about out loud—not for months, not after what happened.

Then one night, as you both lay tangled on the couch, a storm raging outside, Jinx spoke—soft, hesitant.

“…Do you ever think about it?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant.

You turned to her, fingers brushing absentmindedly through her blue strands. “Every day.”

Jinx swallowed.

She sat up, looking at you—really looking—and her voice was barely a whisper when she said—

“What if we tried again?”

Your breath caught.

Jinx rushed ahead before you could answer.

“Not—not to replace her,” she stammered. “Never that. Just… I dunno. We had a good thing. A great thing. And I think we could—” She exhaled sharply, eyes darting away. “Forget it. Dumb idea.”

You caught her chin gently, making her meet your gaze.

“It’s not dumb,” you said. “It’s perfect.”

Jinx blinked.

Then—slowly—her lips curled into a small, hopeful grin.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

BONUS!!!!!

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It took time.

But one day, finally, you held her.

Tiny. Fragile. A weight so light it barely felt real in your arms.

You stared down at the baby, throat tight, heart pounding in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

Jinx hovered beside you, practically vibrating.

“D’you think she’s defective?” she muttered.

You snorted. “Jinx.”

“She hasn’t said anything.”

“She was literally just born.”

Jinx huffed, poking the baby’s cheek. “Still. I expected more personality.”

The baby let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

Jinx melted.

“…Okay, that was kinda cute.”

You shook your head, smiling. Then, quietly, you whispered—

“Isha.”

Jinx froze.

The boat went silent, save for the distant sound of the waves against the docks.

You looked up, meeting Jinx’s eyes.

Her breath hitched.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—slowly—Jinx exhaled, her lips curling into something small, soft.

She reached out, tracing a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny fist.

“Isha,” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper.

Like it was something sacred.

You nodded, eyes stinging.

“She deserves to be remembered…both kids need to be remembered”

Jinx swallowed, blinking rapidly.

Then, suddenly, she grinned.

“Well,” she said, nudging your shoulder. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t start a prank war.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Isha’s tiny forehead.

“No promises.”

Jinx smirked.

Then she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours, whispering—

“We made it.”

You smiled.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “We did.”

And as Isha let out a tiny yawn, curling into your chest, the past finally let go.

The war was over.

The ghosts were gone.

And the life you always wanted?

It was here.

It was real.

And it was yours.

I love making angst and fluff stories!! They are so fun to craft!!

I want sleep.

[jscrawls]

Grave mistakes

Gotham City is full of a lot of characters, criminals, creepy clowns, man eating plants, eccentric billionaires. But all that rolled into one household?

Warning: contains mentions of poor mental health, death, general spooky stuff, it's an Addams reader they're gonna be freaky,

Part 1: digging dirt

🔹🔹🔹

Jason's having one of those days, his hands ache a little too much, his scars pulling a little too tight, the ringing of metal as someone worked on their car grit in his ears a little too loudly, It's overstimulating. he doesn't even feel Like…..a person right now, he feels more like a body caring for itself. So he did what he usually does when he's not quite all there, he walks. Wanders around until he finds somewhere quiet enough to stuff himself back into his own head, until his body feels like him again. And that's how he found himself here of all places, a graveyard, the graveyard. Someone's still taking care of it, it seems. The grass is neatly manicured and the stone is moss free, he hates that in a way. The stupid gravestone looks like it's been shown more care than he has. He hates that he can still clearly read it.

“What a dreadful graveyard, you must be very proud of it.” A mystery voice chimes from behind him, who the fuck snuck up on him?

Spinning around with a snarl on his lip, Jason's greeted by the sight of a….Goth witch? That doesn't bode well on Bruce's property.

“Who the ever loving fuck are you?” his hand rests on the grip of his gun, warning enough to not try anything too hasty. Damn what if they're a meta-

“oh excuse my manners, I'm your new neighbor.” The mystery goth steps closer without any hesitation and holds out their hand, their other hand holding a…casserole dish? Oh right, Alfred mentioned something about a neighbor…They introduce themselves as an Addams like they're not standing in a graveyard and he's armed, alright then…

“Okay…I'm Jason Todd...? I'm not your neighbor though, i don't live here.” He glances back down at the gravestone, his gravestone-

“Oh? Then i suppose you'll just be my new friend then instead of my new neighbor.” They glance down at the stone as well, noticing the obvious. “Oh is that yours? You have one already picked out and placed? How macabre!” They smile, Jason's gut twists at the sight.

“No it's not-that's just uhh…don't worry about it alright? I used it and then.. Got better?” Jason wants to bury himself Alive right now, what kind of an answer is that? They just had to catch him on one of his bad days.

“you know, my dear grandmama has done that quite a few times. The lady just can't seem to stay buried for more than a few weeks at a time. One of these days…” The goth sighs wistfully at that, seeming unbothered. Are they mocking him?

“I'm not on the mood for jokes.” He grunts out, shoving his hands in his pockets and going to step around them. He'd prefer to wallow in his fucked up mental state without an audience.

“Grandmama’s perchance for breaking the barriers between the living and the dead is no laughing matter my new-not-neighbor-friend, say do you know the man living here? I'd like to return this to it's rightful owner before the poltergeists smash it.”

Jason stares at them for a long, silent moment. They said all that with a straight face. Must be committed to their aesthetic to the nth. The thought of seeing Bruce right now sounds about as enjoyable as crawling on broken glass on his hands and knees, but they seem to expect something from him. God he hates social obligations…

“I'm not even gonna ask, give me the dishes and I'll get em back to Bruce.”

“Who is ‘Bruce’? I was under the impression the resident here was named Alfred.”

“No that's the butler- wait, you don't know who your neighbor is? How can you move in beside one of the wealthiest man in the country without knowing?”

“oh is Gomez here? That sneaky devil already bought property in this wonderful city without telling me? Oh I could die of jealousy!"

The goth seems…happy? Jason doesn't want to snap them out of it just yet. They're obviously crazy and he's not ready to deal with the fallout. He's ready to just say fuck it and leave, but he doesn't want to leave Alfred to deal with them…

“Gomez? No this is Bruce Wayne's house. You know, billionaire philanthropist?” he turns towards the back of the mansion and starts walking, ready to go drink until he can't see his reflection straight on. Who cares that it's only four in the afternoon.

“Wayne? Was he the one in Jersey shore?” They say with curiosity, stepping after him with casserole dish in hand.

that actually gets a startled laugh out of Jason, picturing Bruce on Jersey shore with Nikki and big Mike. “No, God no. That'd be a sight to see though…. You don't seem the type to watch that show, i bet supernatural is more your thing, what with the whole….goth thing.” Is he making conversation? Wow, go Jason i guess.

“i enjoy the chaos and violence.” Is all they say, following him to the manor.

“…alright fair enough.” He falls silent again, the only sound being the crunching of leaves underfoot. God he's not good at this, this feels awkward very quickly. At least to him, they seem intrigued with the sights of the graveyard.

“so how did you die, I'm assuming you used the gravestone in death. Yes? Not unless you enjoy a little being buried alive action, i dabble in it time to time myself so don't feel awkward. Do tell.”

Do they have to press on about that? What kind of freaky shit are they into- “you're fucking demented.” he hisses out before he can catch himself, wow way to make a nice impression on Bruce's new, probably rich if they're buying up land in this neighborhood, neighbor.

“Oh? Aren't you a romantic one, My new-not-my-neighbor-friend.”

“…that wasn't-can we drop this? You're driving me nuts.”

“You're very sweet, perhaps we can explore this another time then. Please tell Alfred the casserole was positively horrible! Toodles!”

And just like that they turn on their heel and leave, disappearing into the- wait why is it suddenly foggy? Jason shakes his head and briefly ponders whether any of that was even real, or if he's gone off the deep end this time. The weight of the casserole dish on his arm the only thing assuring him he's not full blown hallucinating like certain people he knows.

He gets a few steps closer to the manor when he pauses again, he feels…. Okay. Not great but…he feels like a human instead of a ghost occupying a body. Huh. Guess meeting someone crazier than you'll fix you.

🔹🔹🔹

A/n: ngl I'm pretty happy with how this chapter turned out, Jason's fun to write! Any feedback is appreciated as I figure out how to write other ppls POV TYYYYY 🖤💜🖤💜

[v-eee]

── jungkook x you

scenario: you and Jungkook used to be best friend until new female staff came into his workplace, Jieun. He has introduced you to her. Jungkook starts getting busy with his work and often cancel the usual food hunting night with you because he needs to work overtime with Jieun. You know Jieun doesn't like you because she has come to your cafe a few times and told you to stop texting Jungkook during his work hour. when you told him about that, he didn't believe you. Starting that day your friendship is not like it used to be.

(v)

You and Jungkook finally met up at a quiet café you both used to frequent. The moment you walked in and saw him waiting at a table, he stood up, giving you that same warm smile you hadn’t seen in weeks.

"Y/N," he greeted, "It’s so good to see you."

"Hey...," you said casually as you slid into the seat across from him.

"How was the trip?" he asked.

"It was good," you said, keeping your tone light.

Jungkook smiled then glancing down at the table as if he had more to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.

You noticed his hesitation, but instead of addressing it, you decided to lighten the mood. Pulling out a neatly wrapped package from your bag, you placed it in front of him with a grin.

"Happy belated birthday," you said with a smile.

Jungkook stared at the box, wide-eyed. "Wait, you got me something?"

"Of course I did. Just because I wasn't there doesn’t mean I forgot," you teased lightly. "Go ahead, open it."

When he opened the box, his eyes widened in shock. Inside was the camera lens he had been talking about for months.

"Y/N… this is—this is the lens I wanted," he stammered, lifting it out of the box like it was made of gold. "How did you even—"

"Of course I remembered," you said proudly, crossing your arms with a playful smirk. "I’m the best of the best friends, after all."

Jungkook looked at you, still stunned. "I can’t believe you got this for me. I didn’t even think you were paying attention when I mentioned it."

"Please..." you said, rolling your eyes. You've been ranting about this lens forever. I figured it was about time you had it." You waved it off like it was no big deal.

Jungkook laughed, but his expression softened as he set the lens down and looked at you. "Y/N… I've got to say, I'm sorry. For everything. The group chat, the way I didn't believe you about Jieun...I screwed up. And the fact that you still went out of your way to do something like this for me…"

You held up a hand, cutting him off. "Jungkook, seriously...it's fine. I’m not mad about it, okay? I didn’t take it to heart."

"But I feel like I—"

"Jungkook," you said firmly but with a small smile, "I mean it. Let’s not dwell on the past. What’s done is done. We're good, okay?"

He looks at you as if trying to read your mind.

"Don't look at me like that," you glare at him. "Now, come on. Show me what that fancy lens can do!"

The rest of the afternoon felt easy, like a weight had been lifted. You laughed, shared stories, and teased him like old times. As you left the café that evening, you felt proud of yourself. You’d faced Jungkook, given him his gift, and managed to keep things light and casual.

— — —

Your friendship with Jungkook back to like the old times.

You received an invitation to a formal dance ball hosted by your old college friends. You need to bring a plus one.

You used to go with Jungkook, so he assumed you’d take him. He hates ballroom dance, but it's fun to dance with you.\

"So, what time are we going?” Jungkook asked casually, leaning against the counter at your café.

You blinked at him. “What?”

"The ball," he said with a grin. "Obviously, I'm stuck with you."

You laughed. "Uh… actually, I'm going with Joon."

Jungkook's smile faltered. "Joon? Our Joon?"

"Yep," you said, nodding with a chuckle. "He’s never been to one before, so I thought it'd be fun."

“Oh… cool,” Jungkook said, forcing a smirk. "Yeah, he must be excited."

But it didn't excite him. Since when did you take someone else to events like this?

[phopollo]

Could we also get back stories for Electra and the components and their families?

Love your art❣️❣️❣️

Hoo boy, okay, time to avoid putting off this answer akdbskdje

None of them have like.... "simple" backstories, but talking about the electrics and their backstories in the cartooniverse is definitely the most complicated, because they all tie back to Electra and/or Purse and Krupp. So! I'll start with them!

Another big long post, im so sorry akfnskd

Purse & Krupp

Even though I'm talking about them together, Purse & Krupp didn't know each other or even about each other's existences before being hired to work together. Purse had participated in some shadier money management activities, most of which was under the table work. Trying to get out of that, he applied for a job with a large and well known company and production line, seeking a personal money manager/accountant, legal advisor, and PR rep. Not all the same job for the same person, for the new face of the company. But Purse, feeling cheeky, applied for all three job positions. And then proceeded to land all three of them. Krupp, meanwhile, wasn't anything or anyone special or of note. As an armaments truck, he'd worked part time with public security and part time shuttling things said public security needed back and forth. He was simply looking for a raise, and seeing that this big large company was looking for personal security for the new face of the company, applied, not expecting to get the job. Purse and Krupp met perhaps a week before they met Electra and were given an opportunity to bsck out, as they were still in production when they were hired. Neither Purse or Krupp really processed what their new boss not even being fully built yet meant outside of "Oh, they might be a little naive." (Welcome to fatherhood you two!)

Electra

Electra was factory built specifically for and by the mentioned company that Purse and Krupp were hired by. They had been powered on for perhaps three hours before immediately being shoved in to Purse and Krupp's arms, and then in to their new job. Their entire purpose was to be a pretty face and be convincing for people to want to do business with their company. They didn't work on a line, and they didn't race. Occasionally, they did something more akin to shows, but... never anything that gave them that thrill they'd been seeking. After about 2 years, they made a convincing enough argument to their company to be allowed to participate in a single race-- a decision that the company would later regret, because they'd continue to make arguements to keep entering in races, which they'd always win. Another two years later (so roughly 4 years old total), Electra decided to break off from their parent company to go out on their own in a solo career for racing, having felt so drawn to and called by it. They took Purse and Krupp with them when they did, leaving their company to have to scramble for a new face and employees all over again. Here's some bonus babylectra & their gay dads loyal employees content (both while company owned and on their own)

Wrench

I say this so affectionately, Wrench was a freaky little girl. She was surrogate built for her demolition truck parents, and grew up literally right next to a scrap yard, where she would very happily go play as a kid. She really really liked to take things apart and try to figure out how they worked. Her parents, being demolition trucks who's jobs were also to take things apart, were supportive if not a little concerned by how methodical she was by it, but hey, they guess she's taking an interest in the fsmily business? But one day, while doing her thing and taking scraps apart, she broke her finger and needed to be taken to see a repair truck. And that totally blew her mind. Being able to put things back together?? Oh she NEEDED to be able to do that. She HAD to know how things worked AND be able to make them work. So! Wrench started doing her research to become a repair truck immediately (much to her parents concerned support), despite being far too young to actually begin training. By the time she actually got to her repair training, she was extremely knowledgeable (and morbid-) about diesel and steam engines, as there was so much information out in the world about them. But she was fascinated by the lack of information she could find on electric engines-- so new, constantly changing.... there weren't any experts in her or any of her neighboring yards. So of course, she decided that thats what she wanted to specialize in for repairs, despite not many electric engines passing through her station. (The scrap yard became her best friend during this time.) It was difficult after she became a fully certified repair truck though, due to that lack of electrics passing through her yard and not having the heart to apply for a transfer. She wasn't taken seriously, and frequently wasn't fetched for the few electrics that did need repairs, as the other repair trucks frequently just went ahead and fixed whatever little problem it was-- screw needing tightening, plating reaplications, etc etc. One day, she was called out to one of her neighboring stations though, as there had been a crash on the tracks involving an electric engine-- Electra. When she arrived, rather than just fixing whatever problem was caused by the crash, she also identified and fixed long standing problems they didn't even know they'd had, most of which caused by non electric specialized repair trucks assuming they could fix something minor. She was offered a job as their personal repair truck before she even finished her work that day. Here's a little baby Wrench just starting her repair training & Wrench the day she was hired. She became the first component they'd actually chosen for themself.

Volta

Volta grew up in a bit of a smaller, more conservative yard. The old school traditional freight and coach roles and presentations were more prevelant. So of course, when Volta, as a freight car, started expressing and experimenting with self expression that was viewed as traditionally "more coach-like," caring more for his hair and getting interested in makeup and fashion, he wasn't exactly popular with his peers. Considered too coach-like to get on with the freight, and the coaches unable to see past him being freight and get along. It was rough for the little dude, turning him a bit jaded and snarky at a young age, just out of tje need tor a defense mechanism. It never stopped him, but the constant isolation and judgement did beat him down quite a bit as he made it to adulthood. Meeting Electra, Purse, Krupp, and Wrench was pure coincidence. They were simply passing through a station that was part of his work route at the same time that he was. And he was absolutely enamored with them. They were the first rolling stock he'd seen who's expression of self was so similar to his, how could be not stare? Purse was the one to approach Volta. He wanted to know what shade and brand he used for his eye makeup, and if he thought it would work for Electra. Volta, trying desperately to be more interesting and keep these people talking to him, cracked a joke that they'd have to pay him for a consultation. To his shock, Purse agreed and asked him about prices and appointment times. When Electra & co actually showed up for the consultation, he absolutely faked it until he made it and they were happy with the result. He felt so normal for the first time ever talking to them, that when Electra & co went to leave, he extremely impulsively asked for a job. It was mortifying-- the most embarassing desperate moment of his entire life. Especially when Electra said no. But a moment of weakness and desperation, because several months later Electra returned to offer him a job, looking for a stylist and knowing he was interested. Bonus of of course, baby Volta & Volta the day he was hired

Joule

You know the saying "it takes a village?" Replace "village" eith "circus," and say hello to literally Joule. She wae built as an animal car in a circus train, and while even though not everyone was technically her family, that didn't matter because they all behaved like her family. It was generally an extremely positive environment to grow up in. The obvious downsides to being a performer from a young age and having such a large family of course reared their heads, but generally speaking, she wouldn't say she had a bad childhood. She was working and participating in acts before she hit double digits, but... well there wasn't exactly a lack of animal cars, and in her early teen years began to feel like it wouldn't really matter of she were there or not. She isn't really sure what sparked her interest-- perhaps it was just being different from what she was used to-- but she eventually took interest in the art of fire eating. Researching in to that took her down the road of pyrotechnics, and before she knew it, Joule was converting in to a dynamite truck and switching acts. And she loved it. She loved it for a really long time. She still does, actually, but... well. After awhile, it just made her... tired. Being in front of an audience like that was tiring. After shows, she'd always immediately go check and lock and undo everything that if anything went wrong could make everything brust into flames, and by the time she was done, most of the guests who'd stay to chat were already gone or on their way out. Never talking to anyone but her family and doing the same things every day was just... exhausting. Which is why when she returned from her checks after a show one day and found some massihe blue freak and their entourage waiting to talk to her specifically, who hadn't spoken to anyone else, it was extreme pleasantly surprising. More so when they'd ask her challenging questions about her job and hypotheticals about how she'd do something. And even more so when they'd keep coming back. She'd begun to find the most exciting part about performing was trying to spot them in the crowd and speaking with them afterwards, even if the conversations quickly derailed. It hadn't taken long for her to learn that this massive blue freak was a racer-- Electra-- but it took quite awhile for her schedule to line up to go watch them the way they'd kept coming to see her. It was only fair, wasn't it? But when Joule showed up, the atmosphere was so.... familiar, and yet.... different. It was exciting. And the race was exciting. The idea of going that fast was so alluring. She knew she'd want to get more involved in the racing scene. And watching Electra race? They were so cool and hot and powerful, and-- just-- woah. They lived like this? They just went to different places, and they didn't have a set routine when they performed? Extremely enticing. And when Electra saw her in the crowd and waved to her? And then immediately approached her after winning? Insane. It made Joule feel more seen than she had in her entire life. She didn't hesitate in the slightest when they offered her a job. And as per usual, bonus baby Joule & Joule the day she was hired

Killerwatt

Killerwatt's story doesn't actually begin with him-- he doesn't actually show up until late. It actually starts about 2 years before he's built, when Purse and Krupp start to disagree with some of the choices Electra had been making. At first, they kept their mouths shut. It wasn't frequent. They weren't decisions that were big deals. But the more time went on, the bigger deals they were, and eventually, they couldn't keep their mouths shut about it. It started to get bad, with frequent argurments and disagreements, and tension hanging over everyone. Now, with Electra as their own company, their own business, they began to wonder if they really needed Purse and Krupp. They had long since learned to mange their own bank accounts and the legalities of things, and Volta and Joule had honestly taken up most of the social media managing that Purse was supposed to be doing. And fans were respectful-- there hadn't been any threats made other than with fellow racers, of which, Electra could easily handle themself. What was Krupp even doing? But-- sentimentality kept them from firing them. About five months prior to Killerwatt's building, Electra finally decided and told Purse and Krupp that they wouldn't be renewing their contracts. And when asked if they were being replaced, grew extremely concerned that Electra didn't plan to at least replace Krupp. The only reason Electra thought he wasn't doing anything was because he was good enough at his job that the security details never reached them. Purse and Krupp were so undeniably attached to Electra after almost 10 years together, and they were extremely nervous about leaving them with no protection. So the two of them formed a plan. About two weeks before their contracts ended, having waited and timed things as last second as they could so Electra wouldn't notice until after they were gone and it was too late, and while it was still legal due to some fun loopholes Purse found, the two of them pushed through a commission order to a factory. A commission... specifically for a security truck for a Electra. And their plan worked. Electra got the email two weeks after Purse and Krupp left that their security truck would be ready in about a week, and did they want to come choose from the batch themself, or have one randomly selected and sent out to them? (They learned a very hard lesson to check their bank account more frequently that day.) So Electra, after tweaking out over Purse and Krupp spending their money, and on a security truck that they did not want, decided that-- well they wouldn't let this all be a total waste. And it wouldn't be fair for someone to be built to do something and not even have the chance to, they'd offer the smallest timedrame contract they could. So they showed up about two days after the batch had been finished and had time to be told what to expect, as almost all factory built rolling stock get. And... well, none of them really stood out. They were all so well trained in security already that there really wasn't anything that made any of them stand out, and, honestly, Electra was on the verge of just hiring whichever one they thought would clean up best and look good next to the rest of the components. But-- hold on, I actually have a visual for this moment

And I fear then both of their faces were sealed in that moment. Electra had to have this one. He was the only one looking at and following them. And-- well even if he wouldn't be doing much of anything, how could they possibly hire a security truck who wouldn't keep their eyes on them and their safety?? It's now been 3 years, and Electra has since learned his name is Killerwatt, and this was the best hiring decision they could have ever made. Bonus Babywatt doodle, of course, just to show off his pretty curls better

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 11

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Max Fewtrell x norris!reader

summary: You and Max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

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-

yn

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 638.642 others

yn got a new swatch palette 👀

user soft lauch????

landonorris Thank god my hand is finally free

alexandrasaintmleux pls tell me you got that lipstick you sent me

yn I did, it’s so gorgeous 🫠

alexandrasaintmleux 🫠

user she’s so prettyy

user need a man that lets me do this with his hand 😔

-

“What are you making?” Max asks as he leans against the counter “Just pasta. You want some too?” He nodded “Sure.”

He watches you as you make the meal. You felt his gaze all over you and shivered slightly. He pushed himself from the counter and stood behind you.

“What are you doing?” His hands gently rest on your hips “You seem cold” He murmured with a knowing undertone. You shake your head “No I’m okay”

Your breath hitched as his arms cling to your waist and his face was buried in your neck “I think you are.. unless you wanna tell me why you’re shivering?” He smirked.

“I-Uh” You close your eyes as max pressed soft kisses to your neck “Max” You breathe “Hm?” His arm goes forward and turns off the stove. His hands guide you to the counter next to it and turn you around.

Your hands land on his chest “My pasta” You say quietly “Fuck your pasta. You’re killing me” He breathes, he was close now.

“Everytime we’re finally were we wanna be, we get interrupted. I- God” His eyes squeeze shut for a moment. You smirk “You want me?”

Instead of embarrassed, he looks at you, more sure than he’s ever been.

“Want you? That doesn’t even describe it in the slightest. You’re everything i’ve ever craved. You pull me in more than any kart or championship ever could. I’d fight your brother a million times- no actually he’s no one I would fight cause he wouldn’t be mad. I’d fight daniel a million times-“

“He’s way taller than you, and not the mentioned a bit stronger” Max glare at you but gently grabs you by the throat, surprising you both.

“And yet you’re standing here, right were you belong. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His tone was low and dangerous.

“You talk and talk but you don’t get to the point” You say teasingly “You want me to get to the point?” You nod, biting your lip and looking at him.

The hand on your throat pulls you closer gently “You want this?” You nod “Please” Thats all he needed before his lips finally met yours.

Years of tension, longing and desperation went into the kiss. Your fists were pulling him impossible closer to yourself.

You slowly pull away and both of you try to catch your breath “We had that one coming” You chuckle which he smiles at and finally opened his eyes. His hand wandered from your throat to your cheek, which was joined by his other hand.

“I don’t ever wanna let you go again” He murmured and gently pressed his forehead against yours “When did you become a romantic?” He chuckled “Always have been a hopeless romantic. You just never saw it” “It’s a bit hard when you reject me”

You look into his eyes and he sighs “You know so didn’t mean to hurt you..” You nod “I know, it’s okay. I just love teasing you” He smiles and goes in for a second kiss.

“Fuck, could do this all day.” You chuckle and press your lips to his again.

-

-

yn

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris, angryginge13 and 826.733 others

yn about this week 🩷

angryginge13 I didn’t know people could be this attached to each other but then there’s you and your man

yn jealous much?

angryginge13 never

yn sounds like it 🤷‍♀️

user omggg mystery man cameo

user that looks like lando. Look at the cap

user oh

alexandrasaintmleux pretty girl 🩷

yn 🩷

landonorris I regret bringing you two together

user omg Lando playing amor??

user so lando approves 🥹

-

yn and quadrant

liked by landonorris, quadrant, maxfewtrell and 639.535 others

yn making free ads for your brother because he won the race 👏😋

user when are you gonna come to a race again??🥹

yn next race week in silverstone

landonorris 🧡

user need that sweatshirt 😍

user their bond>>>

user why does this kinda look like Max‘s kitchen?

user verstappen?

user no fewtrell..

user I mean it seems they’re friends now

-

f1gossip

f1gossip Lando walked into the paddock today alongside Daniel Riccardo, his sister arrived later alongside Max Fewtrell, their long time friend. Radio silence from Riccardo and the Norris duo had everyone convinced they were no longer talking. This all happened after Yn Norris and Riccardo were rumoured to be dating!

user oh?

user now i’m confused

user Max did NOT want to be there

user with yn? he was laughing 🤨

user no, there is another pic with all four of them. Max looks like it’s pure torture to be there 😭

user OH HAHA

-

You sit in the ferrari hospitality next to Alexandra. She stares at her glass “Why would he invite daniel? why now?” “He told us he would do it” “Why?” “Payback or something. I’m not sure what lando’s plan is. Told us at that dinner”

“And he told you nothing?” You shake your head and look at your phone “Oh dear. Lando left Max and Daniel alone. I have to go. We’ll talk later!” You jump up from your seat before Alex could answer and made your way to the mclaren hospitality.

-

Daniel was glaring at Max, who was scrolling on his phone, much to Daniel’s dismay. You slowly walked up to their table “Hey” Max looks up and smiles “Hey. Finished the gossip session?” He winks and you chuckle “Yes. The tea was piping hot” You smile.

“That’s interesting.” He gets up “You up for a fro-yo?I saw they got a stand here” Your eyes widen “Yes! Oh I love fro-yo” You clap your hands. Max smiles at you, admiring how happy such a little thing made you.

Daniel eyes you both, you look at the aussie “Hello Daniel” Your mood was toned down “Hey Yn” He smiled, which you didn’t return.

You walk out of the hospitality with Max and sigh in relief. Max chuckled “My savior” You hook your arm in his “Whatever lando’s plan is, he has to do it fast. I’m not gonna sit here and have Daniel be a jealous prick” Max nods “It’ll be fine.”

“I hope so” You mumble before you arrive at the stand. You get your order and pull out your wallet, which Max snatches out of your hand and pushes into his pocket “Max” “No.” “Fewtrell.” “That’s not gonna work” He smiles at you before paying.

“I hate you” “Sure” He pats your head in a teasing way and you roll your eyes “You’re annoying” “Now that I believe you” He smiles and moves in for a kiss, which he stops “Forgot we’re in public” He murmured and you laugh “Sorry, no kisses for you”

-

yn

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzhneimer, maxfewtrell and 636.437 others

yn happy quali day 🤭🧡

landonorris you got fro-yo without me??

yn you’re not allowed.

landonorris 😔

alexandrasaintmleux 🩷

user who did she get fro-yo with?

user is that daniel??

user little leo 🥹

-

“You are aware that this ain’t gonna work,right?” Daniel looks at Lando, who raised an eyebrow “What?” “Max and yn.” Lando sighs “It’s their life.”

“You threw a fit when we were together” Lando crossed his legs “That’s different” “Just because he’s max or what?” “Daniel, can we not talk about my sisters love life? It’s no longer your concern.”

“Oh but it is, you’ll see” “Is that a threat?” “No.” Lando eyes the aussie “Lando! Let’s go” You yell into the hospitality “We wanna go out and eat. You coming?” Lando nods “See you tomorrow, Daniel” “See you” Daniel leans back in his chair and watches lando walk over to you.

His and Max’s eyes meet for a moment. Max’s glare told him everything he needed to know, but would he accept that..?

-

almost forgot to post this, OOPS. Oh and look who’s back 👀👀 Don’t get too comfortable, we’re just getting started folks 😉

[bookskeepers]

third time's the charm ♡ chapter seven

content warnings: MDNI, bad jokes, reader rambles about neuroscience, sexism mentioned, dirty talk af, reader tries to hold a conversation during sex tho, oral (male receiving), fingering, peepee in veevee, protected, nipple play (m + f receiving), overstimulation, TICKLISH COOTER, i probably use every possible word for 'penis', not proofread

word count: can't measure on mobile so... ~3.2k? idk tbh

a/n: note to self: never write on mobile again. wtf. also the 'ticklish down there' is a self story bc when my ob gyn disinfected my hoo ha for iud insertion i told her it tickled (bc i was giggling) and she said I'm her first ticklish patient (and yes, i have also gotten ticklish during receiving oral </3)

taglist: @wakashudou @maddyb-rapps

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"Guess we're starting off with a bang, huh?"

The line catches you off-guard. After all, it's not actually related to the activities you two will be partaking in; your door did slam into the wall with how much force you used to fling it open.

After taking way too much time to process what he said, you finally break out into a fit of giggles. "Because," you begin, "we're going to have sex, but the door also whammed into the wall..."

There's a look of amusement in Tsukishima Kei's honey brown eyes as he takes a step into your dorm, closer to you. "Sure. We can say it was intentional."

You take a step back unconsciously, making room for him to pass by you into your room. Unlike last time, you forgot to clean up -- there are clothes scattered on the bed and three different textbooks opened haphazardly on the floor. Your rug is crumpled up in the corner of the room, a victim of an outrage earlier in the week at getting an annoying text from a groupmate about a project.

The minimal mess doesn't seem to bother him, though. You watch as he sets his own bag on the ground, noting to yourself that he actually brought a bag with him this time. He steps over the opened textbooks, taking care not to accidentally damage them, before he arrives at your bed. He's facing away from you, so you can't see his face, but you can hear the smirk in his voice as he picks up a particularly lacy bra that would leave nothing to the imagination if someone saw you wearing it. "Weren't gonna wear this one for tonight, huh?"

Your face begins to heat up as you rush over to his side, snatching the garment out of his hands and kicking it under the bed. "Uh, don't worry about that." Mai had decided it'd be funny to gift you the world's most revealing lingerie set (which was impressive, given the nature of lingerie) yesterday as a 'congratulations for hooking up with the same person twice' gift. You had opened the box and thrown it at her in shock. She had thrown it back, and it stayed on your bed where Tsukishima found it.

He watches you with a bemused expression before leaning back on your bed as if this were his dorm room, not yours. "So... what can you teach me about sex, from a neuroscience standpoint?" he asks, reaching one hand out to take your arm and pull you closer.

You stumble in the process, finding yourself flat against him with both your palms pressed firmly on his chest. "Oh!" you exclaim, face turning even redder. "Well, actually, all I really know is that women produce oxytocin when they... y'know, release, and men release dopamine, I think?" You begin to ramble, talking about the effects of these two hormones on the brain while Tsukishima watches, clearly listening to your every word.

As what was supposed to be a hook-up starts nearing closer and closer to a lecture, the blonde male holds your wrist up to his mouth, planting soft kisses on it as you continue to talk. "...so some really sexist people think that, because women release oxytocin when they orgasm and oxytocin is linked to pairbonding, promiscuous women are incapable of forming lasting relatio-- what are you doing?"

His tactic of slowly and gently placing kisses up your arm to distract you worked, as now your focus is solely on him instead of whatever neuroscience-related lectures were replaying in your head.

"Performing an experiment," he says between pecks, his voice low and sultry.

You raise a brow at him, biting the edge of your bottom lip. "Oh? And what experiment might that be?"

His other hand, the one not holding your wrist up, trails up your spine, applying a gentle pressure to get you to lean in. "Something, something, oxytocin. Can I kiss you? For experimental purposes, of course."

You close the gap between the two of you in response, contentment flooding your nervous system as your lips move against his. They're softer than you remember, smooth with the addition of chapstick. When you part for air, you feel the faint taste of vanilla.

"Sweet," you remark before he can go in for another kiss.

He pauses halfway, leaving the barest of space between you two, a slight smile on his features. Fishing through a pocket with one hand, he procures a tube of balm after a few seconds. "You like the vanilla flavor?"

You put on an expression of deep thought before shrugging. "I'm going to need a few more taste tests before I'm sure," you state, pulling him in for another kiss.

It doesn't take long for you to melt into him once more, that awkward tension usually involved with kissing a stranger long gone, since you've already, y'know, had sex with him.

Gone is the shaky, hesitant individual from last time. You're more confident in your movements with him, wasting no time in running your hands under the edge of his tee, the hem riding up as your hands go higher and higher. As your fingertips reach his pecs, you take a second to pinch and squeeze lightly at his nipples and you relish the groan he releases into your mouth as a result.

"God, I forgot how good that feels," he whispers, acting as if it hadn't been more than a week since the original hookup. "Do it again," he says as he lifts you up and places you on the bed before taking his shirt off, exposing his nipples to the cold air.

You don't respond verbally, instead opting to take one of the peaks into your mouth. You give it a good suck before gently nipping at it, causing Tsukishima to entangle his fingers in your hair and let out a small noise. Heat begins pooling between your legs in earnest as you continue to lavish his chest with attention, eventually switching from one nip to the other, one of your hands pulling and tweaking at the one that isn't in your mouth.

After a few more moments of this, he places his arms on your shoulders and you stop. His face is bright red and he's panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. "Is that what it feels like when I do the same to you?" he asks in a husky tone, moving his hands from your shoulders to the hem of your shirt. "Because I'm about to do that to you. I missed them."

There's an edge of playfulness in his voice hiding the twinge of sincerity as he pulls your shirt over your head, once again taking the time to visually appreciate the way your chest looks in your bra. "I like this color on you," he says before he pushes you back rather harshly.

You lay flat on the mattress with a squeak as he hovers above you, one knee on the bed and the other leg straight. "Like this sight, too," he adds as he lowers his head to your chest, his tongue flicking over a clothed nipple. The wet feeling combined with the friction of the bra material against your sensitive flesh makes your back arch ever so slightly into him, and you can feel his grin against your skin. Tingles of electricity bloom around where his mouth and hands meet your breasts, and tiny gasps and pants leave your own mouth as he continues sucking and nipping at the flesh.

He pauses briefly. "Feeling that oxytocin rush yet, baby?"

"Definitely," you breathe out as your back arches up against him when his fingers press against your clothed core. "You could probably make it really rush, if you tried hard enough."

"Don't worry." He sits up, hands leaving your chest to start working on your bottoms. "I fully intend to."

You lift your hips into the air to help in his quest, watching the lust practically cloud his gaze when he succeeds in removing both your pants and undies in one fell swoop. "Shit," he murmurs, running his thumb through your folds. You shiver at the contact. "Good thing I didn't get a chance to eat dinner."

You lift your head off the mattress to stare him down, a look of shock on your face. "What?"

He laughs, now using his middle and ring finger to slide up and down between your southern lips. "Now I get to fully enjoy this feast."

Without giving you time to retort, he prods his fingers at your entrance and presses his tongue flat against your clit, causing you to cry out and arch your back. He wastes no time in attaching his lips to the sensitive bud as his fingers begin pistoning in and out of you at a relentless pace. He's far more ruthless this time, seeming to have figured out what you like from the previous hookup alone.

The sounds of your moans and his slurps fill the air, until he abruptly pulls away from your vag. "No conversation this time?" he asks, his tone almost pouty.

"Oh, I can talk if you want," you offer. He nods before delving back in, and your body shudders at the contact. "So... did you... you know that the clitoris is -- ohmygod, right there, pleasepleaseplease -- a bundle of really sensitive ner-- haaa -- nerves? And when you s-- just like that, you're doing it so good, don't stop -- when you suck on it, it feels fucking phenomenal?"

He hums against your cunt, sending vibrations straight to your brain. You continue to babble, occasionally interruptimg yourself to praise him. Your fingers find their way to his hair again, scritching at the scalp gently.

Unlike last time, where he managed to tear an orgasm out of you, you find the stimulation to start to be overwhelming. Your thighs are spasming and trying to clench shut around his head. A brief glance downwards reveals that one of his hands are unaccounted for, and suddenly you can hear the faint thwapthwapthwap of skin against skin underneath the cacophony of your moans -- is he jacking off?

Your body struggles against him and you find tears forming in your eyes from how the situation has suddenly become too much. He shifts his mouth against you and the pleasurable feeling vanishes; it's replaced by the sensation of being tickled. You push his head away, breaking out into giggles. "Stop, please stop," you manage to choke out.

And just like that, he stops. "Everything okay?" he asks, lifting his head from between your legs. His ears are red from where your thighs applied unnecessary pressure, and the lower half of his face is shiny with your fluids.

"Yeah, it was..." you start, chest heaving. "Just getting to be too much..." You sit up, scooting away from the edge and patting the bed next to you. "Besides, don't you think it's your turn to feel good?"

He raises an eyebrow at you before settling on the bed next to you. "Giving you attention is all I need to feel good," he murmurs, cupping your cheek with one hand and placing his thumb on your lower lip.

You press a soft kiss to the pad of his finger, before noticing that his pants are just gone. His cock rests against his lower stomach, the tip angrily red and leaking. "When did you take your pants off?"

"When I was eating you out," he responds in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm pretty nifty with one hand."

You adjust your position so you're straddling Tsukishima, smiling devilihsly at him. "Oh, I've definitely been on the receiving end of nifty," you confirm.

"You sure you're good to continue?" he asks, concern evident in his tone. Both his hands come to rest on your waist. "I'm okay with stopping, you know. Don't push yourself if you don't want to."

Those sparks that flew when you had kissed him a week ago are flying again and wreaking havoc in your stomach. The tender concern in his tone, despite the two of you barely knowing each other beyond the confines of your dorm, has you blushing bright pink. Oh God, is that what the bare minimum does to you now? "Yeah, I'm fine," you insist, leaning in closer. "I just get ticklish down there sometimes."

He's leaning in closer too, but he stops when you say that. "...Your cooch is ticklish?" he asks, flabbergasted.

"Uh, yeah? Sometimes?"

"That's a first, I think. That, and trying to hold a conversation while receiving oral."

"Hey, you told me to talk!"

"Guilty," he says, laughing before he finally closes the distance between you two. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you melt against him.

You don't get carried away, however, and before long you gently push him until his back is against the mattress and he has a look of curiosity in his eyes. You plant soft kisses trailing down his body, taking the time to nip at each of his nipples again, before you go past his navel, past his happy trail.

The curious look in his eyes is replaced with excitement as you place a soft kiss on the tip of his dick, licking your lips to remove the precum that had landed on them. It's salty and bitter, not that you expected otherwise.

"Normally I eat pineapple before a hookup," he states, "but you said you're allergic last time, so I didn't wanna risk it... in case... the pineapple got into my sperm, or something."

You gaze at him from beneath your lashes, ass in the air as you press your face to the base of his penis. "How considerate," you say right before licking a long stripe up.

His hips jerk upwards, throwing you temporarily off balance before you fix your stance. You take the mushroom-esque head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and revelling in his quiet gasps as you take more of him in your mouth.

His hands find your hair, entangling themselves in your locks, but he doesn't push down. Once again, you are blown away by Tsukishima Kei doing the bare minimum (not forcing you to deepthroat his dong). You can feel the appendage hardening even more in your mouth as you bob up and down, and opening your eyes reveals Tsukishima's thighs shaking with constraint -- perhaps restraining himself from thrusting. His head is thrown back against the pillows, and the quiet noises emanating from him are almost drowned out by the wet noises from your throat. You hope your brain is recording those noises of his, because they are divine.

You gag as you accidentally take too much of him at once, and he instantly lifts your head off his penis. "Don't choke, baby," he says in a mock-scolding tone.

"I'm fine, I can keep going," you retort, removing his hands from your hair with your own and beginning to reassume your position.

He shifts so he's sitting on his knees, pulling his lower half away from you. "As much as I loved you giving me head, that's not what I meant when I say 'I wanna be inside you.'"

"When did you say--" you begin, but he cuts you off by manhandling your position until you're laying on your back, legs spread, with him between them.

"Just now, I think," he says as he leans over the edge of the bed, gripping one of your thighs for support as he rustles through something on the floor. Within a few seconds, he straightens up and reveals the purplish-black packaging of a condom. He tears it with ease and slides it onto his leaking shaft.

"You're a Skyn guy?" you ask as he lines his dick up with your entrance.

He makes eye contact with you, a question in his gaze. You nod and gasp as he begins to push in. "Skyn's great. I feel everything."

"R-really?" you manage, "I feel like everyone prefers... prefers... Durex?"

"Nah, they haven't tried Skyn then." He, yet again, doesn't give you a chance to respond before pushing the rest of himself in. "God, I forgot how fucking tight you are."

You can't bring yourself to babble anything out, too lost in the delicious stretch and pleasure he's dragging in and out of your walls. His pace is fast, but not ruthless -- his tip kisses your cervix each time, but doesn't smash into it. He leans over you as he thrusts, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder so he can get in deeper. You raise your head so your lips can meet.

The kiss is fiery and full of passion and groans as he speeds up his pace, his hips snapping against yours. "Fuck," he moans into your mouth, breaking the contact to rest his forehead against yours.

"You must... be in peak physical condition," you manage to say between gasps.

"I play volleyball," he responds as he wastes no time in flipping you over so he's railing into you from behind.

"Y-you do!?" you exclaim.

He lets out a breathy laugh. "Baby, I'm on the Sendai Frogs."

"What's that?"

His next thrust is a little harsher than before, ripping a moan from your throat and causing your head to fall into the pillows. "Shit, sorry." He places a hand on your back and draws soothing circles with his fingertips, a complete opposite to the fucking he's giving you. "It's a volleyball team."

"I got that, but... Oh my fucking God, Tsukishima," you pant out. "I can't... can't fucking talk when you're railing me so good."

Your words of praise seem to spur him on because the soothing circles stop, instead replaced by the feeling of his chest pressing to your back. "Yeah? I'm fucking you good?" he asks in a low, sultry tone.

"So... so good, please don't stop."

He keeps his pace up until it begins to grow jerky and erratic. "Shit, I'm gonna cum," he whispers against the back of your neck.

"For me? Cum for me?" you ask in an innocent tone, despite the act you're engaging in.

He groans against your skin, and you feel his fingers dig into the soft skin just above your hips. "Fuck, yeah, baby, I'll cum for you."

His pace slows as he spills into the condom, and you wonder if he thanks whoever invented contraceptives whenever he finishes inside. Soon, it stops completely and he flops onto you, flattening you against the bed. "That was phenomenal."

You squeak from beneath him, his weight simultaneously comforting and a little bit suffocating. "Tsukishima... can't move!"

He laughs and gets off you, once again sorting through your stuff to find proper aftercare tools. "Sorry."

You feel the soft towel against your inner thighs as he cleans you up, before the material of your underwear slides up your legs. "I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow," you groan, feeling that familiar soreness begin to sprout between your legs.

"My fault," he replies drily. You watch as he procures fresh underwear from his backpack -- an overnight bag? -- and puts it on. He walks over to the bed after doing so. "Scoot."

"Telling me to scoot in my own room should be criminal," you grumble before scooting over. He gets in the bed beside you, laying on his back. It doesn't take him much effort to move you around so your head is on his chest and your body is draped over his. He traces shapes on your skin again, and you listen to his heartbeat. "Wanna stay the night?" you offer after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"That'd be awesome," is what you hear as your eyes begin to flutter shut, despite the lamp next to your bed still being on. The room plunges into darkness as Tsukishima turns it off, however, and the last thing you note is him saying, "Goodnight princess."