#shying away from everyone as we speak
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rqnarok · 4 months ago
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GLORY BOX | old man!logan x fem!reader
summary: calling old man!logan daddy for the first time ever…
content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. literally porn with no plot or whatsoever. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. stressed reader. established relationship (surprising). soft daddy dom!logan. sub!reader. daddy kink. dd/lg undertones. subspaces. pet names (princess, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. slight breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 1,3k 
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All the work you’ve been having these past weeks is knocking you out, mentally and physically. The sight of never-ending paperwork before you makes you want to throw your dinner up to the desk. Although you know it’s not healthy to push yourself like this—you just couldn’t help it. Your anxieties are always eating you and forcing you to do this and that subconsciously. 
Luckily, Logan always notices when you’re tiring yourself to death. His love comes in many forms, one being taking care of you. He always takes care of you at the price of nothing. 
Well, maybe one or two things. 
Your obedience, is in fact, required. Your loyalty to him and only him is expected. Your submission is essential. 
Both of you find a simple way of living by holding onto those systems. You love to be taken care of and Logan loves to take care of you. It is the foundation of your and Logan’s relationship. It is enough. 
His presence is greatly felt as he watches you overworking yourself to a dreadful agitation, “Come on, sweets. Rest up for a bit.” 
“Can’t, Lo. ‘M still doing this.” Your head lulls lazily as the burden on your shoulders becomes overwhelming. Deadlines loom all over your mind, all over your brain like grey clouds before a storm. 
He just can’t take it anymore. The sight of his pretty baby all slouched down and defeated in the dim living room. “I’ll do all the work for ya’. C’mere, princess.”
And before you know it, or even before you register it—your head goes radio silent for a minute. All because of Logan.
“Little one.” Your paperworks on the desk are long abandoned as Logan tenderly whispers to your neck, to the skin he had plastered with many love bites and little hickeys. 
“Mhm—”
His cock is stuffed deep inside of your soaking pussy, stretching you up with his thick girth, and locking your figure to his with his strong biceps like glue.
This position, you on top of him, usually makes you tired and your thighs sore—but it’s different now because he’d taken a willingness to do all the work. I’ll do all the work for ya’. The sight of his girl—his gorgeous girl opening herself to him; letting yourself rest up a bit after all the sobs you had swallowed this entire week—electrify something inside him.
You love to be taken care of by Logan. 
“My pretty pillow princess, hm?” He mutters sweetly to your right ear, gently brushing your hair along the way. Your figure slumped into him, leaning your entire body weight onto him. You managed to nod lightly, lazily, and slowly, but still with desperation. 
“Yeah. My little girl. All mine.” His fingers reach your chin and nod your head with him. Slowly lifting his hips up and down, he makes his cock hits that spot deep inside you. When he talks to you like this—you just can’t help it. The more he babies you, the more you fall into subspace. 
Before you can’t stop yourself, you croak out a small breathy voice, “Daddy.” You sounded so feeble - you barely even recognized your own voice. 
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. 
All this time, you call him lots of names, alright. Jokingly or in a serious manner: Grandpa, Lo, Logan, Old Man, Old Guy—but never that.
You feel Logan tense and how his cock twitches inside your walls. Then he slightly pulls you up and down on him, way deeper this time.
His rugged palms dug into your hips, rubbing circles there, “What was that, sweetheart?” The older man’s voice tremble slightly because fuck he didn’t think he could get harder. He knows he’s a bad bad bad man for enjoying shit like this. Young, delicate thing like you drooling over his cock.
You whimper into his shoulders and shy yourself away from his intense gaze—the one that made you clench your pussy around his girth. “What’d ya’ just call me, princess?” He repeats as his fingers squish your cheeks to look at him in the eyes. Bullseye.
There he went again. Making you fall deeper into your subspace you can’t even think. “Repeat whatcha’ say to your old man, baby.” Pushing just the right buttons. 
“Daddy…” you managed to get away from his gripping fingers and nuzzle your face deeper into his neck—your voice comes out needier than you expected.
Logan groans and you could feel his cock twitches again, “You wan’ more of Daddy’s cock? Hm?”
He managed to slip his thumb into your spit-slicked mouth and make you suck at the tip. “Mmhm. Please, Daddy—”
“Wan’ Daddy t’a stuff you up, little one?” He grunts, loving all this, you could tell. His thumb slips out of your lips and makes its way down down down and then his hand drifts to play with your breasts, squeezing and pinching your peaking nipples.
“Ah! Y-yes, Daddy.” You’re full-on sobbing now. You’d do anything. Only one word repeats in your dumbfounded mind now.
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. 
“‘Aight. Hold on t’me.” Logan lets out a dry chuckle and trails his hands from your breasts to the plush of your ass. “Daddy’ll fill you up.” He lifts you up and lets the tip of his cock slip from your clenching wet hole, barely even the tip. He scolds you softly when you start moving around in desperation, “Stay still for Daddy. Lemme’ do my job.” 
You cry out loudly when he thrusts himself back in, deep and hard. “Daddy!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sets a rapid pace. 
The sound of slapping flesh against flesh obscenely roams around the room as Logan pistons his hips up off the cushion, eagerly meeting your bouncing body above him. “T-there ya’ go, kiddo. Always grippin’ Daddy so fuckin’ tight.”  
Logan takes his right hand and press it down on your tummy, feeling his cock bulging through, "Ya' feel me here, kiddo?" And God, how could you not melt at that?
He pounds his large cock into your slicked pussy, chasing his high and yours. “Go ‘head play with your pouty clit.” Says Logan as he keeps bullying his way inside your heat. But your hands stay locked around his shoulders. You’re just too tired and he said he’d do all the work, right? 
Logan knows you’re close when he feels your toes curl on his thigh and your arms tightening around his neck—suffocating him with your presence and your cunt.
“Daddy,” you call out to him again, making grabby hands on his salt-and-pepper beard. A continuous line of DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddys in a loop and you’re so full of him, you feel him everywhere.
“Cream my fat cock, baby. Daddy’ll fill you up real nice.”  You try to tell him yes but it comes out of you broken and high-pitched.
“Daddy-” you can feel his big fingers circling your swollen button—doing all the work for you. It’s not even a second later until you babble that you’re coming, repeating it over and over in his ear. “‘M coming, Daddy—‘M-” 
Logan mutters a curse word as he feels your velvet walls squeezing his cock so tight and milking him dry. “Shit. Such a good little girl.” He coos at the sight before him, your shaking figure, coming down from your high, and rolling your eyes to the back of your head in pleasure. 
He can’t help himself anymore—his pace becomes relentless, and he indulges his body forward closer to you, burying his face on your neck. “Fuck, princess.” You whimper at the burning feel of his untrimmed scruffy beard.
“Come.” 
Oh, you want to order him around now?
“Come, Daddy. Need your cum so bad, pleasepleasepleas—” 
Nevermind.
In your neck, he lets a roaring grunt as his cock twitches and swells inside of your dripping pussy. “Jesus Christ.” He huffs every time he spurts his release, his thrust going weaker and slower. Yet the pleasure that you deride him for is inescapable. No amount of power could take him away from you. He makes sure of that.
His breath finally comes back to him, and so does your senses, little by little. You whimper as you feel his cum gushing out of your hole, “Daddy-”. 
But he keeps his position still, his legs grounded to the floor—he just kisses your temple, then your cheeks, then your lips. “Shh. Daddy’s here. Daddy’ll take care of you.” He coos at your hair, kissing the crown of your head. 
He decided that he’d have you like this for the night. Seated atop of his muscular thighs—full of his seed and spent. 
Daddy always takes care of you.
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softquietsteadylove · 1 month ago
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Red and Green
Gil is glowering. He's been glowering almost since they arrived. He's happy to help, of course. Jack is in the winter play, and since Sersi is also teaching at his school, they've all come to help out with last minute decorating and such. He's baked five sheet pans worth of goodies for the bake sale taking place before and after the play.
Thena is on stage, helping Jack and a few other kids with putting fake snow everywhere. She's not exactly taking part but she's good at keeping them from throwing it on each other or anywhere unnecessary.
That's not the problem. The teacher talking to her is the problem.
Gil doesn't know who he is. Ben says he thinks he's the gym teacher or something. Seems a little young--aren't gym teachers always old dudes who don't actually play sports? This guy is their age, visibly handsome, even from a distance.
"You're a natural with them," the tall, blonde stranger insists.
Thena shakes her head, "I couldn't disagree more. I am here for Jack and no one else. The little hellions can fend for themselves."
She says, and then still decisively stops two boys close to the stairs from seeing what the fake snow tastes like.
"Well, I think you're a natural." Who does this guy think he is? He was moving some larger stuff around with Ikaris all afternoon. Apparently until Thena caught his eye and lured him away.
Gil rolls his eyes as Mister Blondie pulls off the fleece he's been wearing. His t-shirt gets pulled up a little with it, just enough for the stage lighting to really emphasize the full, washboard eight pack of abs he's got.
Phastos clears his throat loudly in Ben's ear. "Ahe-hem, Mister Stoss."
"Habibi, please," Ben attempts to lean away from his husband. "It is not a sin to have eyes, my love."
Gil sneers to himself. Thena has eyes. And while she wasn't openly admiring like Ben had - no matter how briefly - he knows she's seen them. He just...knows it.
"Gil?" Ikaris walks over to him, tugging at his own t-shirt now that boxes are moved or sets are arranged, or whatever they've been doing. "Wanna give us a hand?"
"Who is that guy?" Gil points blatantly at the man still chatting Thena up while she's trying to keep an eye on Jack and his friends.
Ikaris looks and shrugs. "Teacher."
Gil shakes his head at him. If Ikaris weren't both Thena's brother and Sersi's husband, sometimes he really wonders how they would have become friends. "Thanks, helpful--I meant how did he and Thena get to talking. She doesn't usually talk...with people."
It's not his most subtle tactic. But Ikaris doesn't seem to pick up on his greenish aura. "I heard him ask her a little about what she used to play. Guess they're talkin' about college sports?"
Gil's discomfort only increases, though. Thena did play sports when they were younger. He didn't. And he knows that she misses how she used to play soccer in high school and even in the first year of college.
His eyes are glued to them as Thena smiles and even laughs faintly as she talks to Whats-His-Face.
"What?" Ikaris asks him outright (no tact at all).
Gil huffs, deciding he's done just watching things unfold. "I don't think you'd like it if he was chatting up your wife."
Ikaris makes a face. "I guess not. But he's not. And Thena's not your wife."
Gil doesn't have a defense to that. He storms off so Ikaris can't announce to all the auditorium volunteers how flushed he is. Instead, he hurries up the little stairs onto the stage. "Uh, hey."
Thena stops dead in her conversation to smile at him, "hey."
He has to give it to him, if Mister Golden is bothered at all by the interruption, he doesn't let it show. "Hey, thanks again for helping out. The school doesn't have much to offer for things like these. Volunteering really goes a long way for the kids."
Gil tries not to scoff at Mister Perfect's magnanimous speech. He offers a stiff smile and hovers closer to Thena. "Yeah--I need Thena's help with the bake sale stuff, if you'll excuse us."
Thena lets him grasp her hand and all but pull her away. She only lingers enough to point over her shoulder, "Jack is in charge."
The other kids whine, but he's still riding the high of having all his 'cool' aunts and uncles help.
"Oh," Mister Friendly laughs faintly with a bright smile (and perfect teeth). "Well, it's already snowing out. You should stay warm inside."
Gil bristles as Mister Flirtatious' hand comes dangerously close to touching Thena's shoulder. He pulls her closer to him.
"I can give you a hand," he offers.
Gil is now borderline tugging Thena with him. "Thanks, but I need to, uh, ask her opinion on some things."
He wants to get right in the guy's face and tell him that of course he knows it's already snowing. He's not going to let Thena get cold! He rushes off the stage with her and makes sure to grab her coat off the back of one of the chairs. Maybe it's a bit obvious, but he loudly shakes it out and holds it up for her to slide her arms into the sleeves.
Mister Sunshine just smiles and waves before going back to watching the kids.
Gil sniffs. "He's friendly."
"Quite." It doesn't tell him what he wants it to. Usually Thena isn't warm to people just coming up and talking to her.
"What were you guys talking about?" he asks, realizing it's too late for him to be asking in a fake-casual way. He shoves his hands in his pockets as they walk out of the auditorium and head outside.
"He introduced himself as the physical education teacher," she states factually, which at least isn't the smitten fondness he was dreading hearing from her after their interaction. "He told me Jack is doing exceedingly well in his activities."
Of course that was his in; Thena is a sucker for talking about Jack, in any way, shape or form.
"Phastos is insistent Jack learn American football, but my practices with him have been paying off," she states with her nose all the way in the air with pride.
Gil laughs. Thena is determined to get Jack so hooked on it that he calls it football instead of the American 'soccer'. "It is a little less physical than football."
They get outside and Gil shoves his hands deeper in his pockets. Maybe it was dumb for him to get Thena's coat for her and not go looking for his own.
"Gil, aren't you cold?" she asks outright.
"It's okay, I just need a hand with a few of the trays," he excuses with a smile, unlocking his car from where they stand.
"What did you need my opinion on?"
Oh, right, the blatant and bold faced lie he told in order to soothe his own jealousy. What was he thinking? Ikaris was right, Thena isn't his wife--she's not even his girlfriend. But that never really bothered him so much as when he saw Mister Model up there chatting her up...showing off his abs to her.
"Gil?"
"Uh, well," he hesitates to get out as they step out from the school doors' cover and into the light evening snow. "I guess...do you think what I made will sell well?"
It's lame--it's super lame, and embarrassing. It's a bit late, isn't it? He's made a full dozen of five different desserts. Wouldn't he have asked this before he got so far into the process? And she and Jack were there when he baked them at Ben and Phastos'!
"Of course they will," she answers honestly, though. He likes the blunt and earnest realism on her more than Ikaris. "Your baking is always amazing. I'm sure the school will make back the cost of the play and then some."
"If they make the 'then some' I think I should get to keep the profit," he mutters. Thena laughs at his joke, but butter is expensive, and he's made three dozen different shortbreads! "Here."
He hands Thena a tray of the frosted cookies, which have to be separate from the rest to keep their design integrity pristine. He carries the other three trays himself and closes his trunk.
"It's nice that Jack is excited about it."
Gil smiles, some of his earlier agitation melting away. Thena, for all her insistence that she didn't like anything to do with children, lives for Jack. She loves coming to his school events, helping with parent stuff. He knows she's lied at her job so she can attend every single soccer game he has, even when they're at 4 in the afternoon on a tuesday.
"I didn't expect him to be so happy to have all of us here."
"Well sure," Gil chuckles, breathing a little easier now that it's just them. "Jack thinks you're the coolest aunt in the world. He's bragging to his friends right now about how you were a pro soccer player and know how to use swords."
Thena rolls her eyes modestly. "I keep telling him it's an amateur fencing class."
Calling it amateur is a disservice; Gil has witnessed a little of it giving her a ride once, and she dominates in it.
"I hope he never gets tired of having us around for things like this," she admits to him quietly, maybe even sheepishly. "Even when he's a teenager."
Gil smiles even wider, because Thena is just so sweet and loving under her calm and placid exterior. "I'm sure he won't. At least not you--maybe Uncle Ikaris."
Thena laughs, and it shows off her teeth in a cute way.
Gil shifts his load to open the door for her. He really didn't need help with anything, but he doesn't need to confront what it means that he was so desperate to get her out here with him just yet.
"There you two are, people are starting to arrive!"
"Sorry, just had to keep 'em nice and cold y'know," Gil murmurs as Sersi rushes forward to take Thena's tray for her. He sighs but Ikaris has some decency and extends his hands. Gil lets him take the top tray from him. "Are you sure I'm supposed to have this much real estate?"
Sersi waves a hand. "I've run this bake sale the last three years. I am not exaggerating when I tell you two parents at most will actually bring enough. Everyone else just brings a store bought cookie platter and lets it suffice. They don't sell well and they just take it home with them after the play."
"Gil will put them all to shame."
He blushes at the confidence Thena has in him. "If it's to help the kids put this play on again next year, then fine."
Ben has his phone out, snapping pictures. "They're gonna knock people's socks off, Gil."
"Thanks guys," he sighs as he unwraps his trays upon trays.
"They certainly look great!"
Gil's blood pressure spikes again. He turns and someone has let the golden retriever with a whistle around his neck out of the auditorium. "Thanks."
"Jack's been bragging about how his uncle is the best cook on the planet. I hope I can snag one for myself before the play!"
He's just being friendly, but Gil can feel his veins tightening under his skin with every word out of this guy's mouth. He looks at Ben, who's all excited and bouncing with his phone up. "What?"
Ben points.
Gil looks up, as does Thena. There's a pretty half-assed sprig of mistletoe hanging from the decorative archway put up over the table. He looks around; none of the other ones have this. He's ready to tell Ben to stop messing around. But then the presence of Mister Smiley and the memory of him flirting with Thena resurfaces in Gil's mind.
Thena's eyes go wide but she doesn't move as he pulls her closer. He slides his hand up her cheek, letting his palm angle and hide where their faces make contact, and not too briefly. Her eyes flutter closed.
Everyone's jaws drop (except Ben's).
Gil pulls away. He's kissed her close enough to her mouth that it will look the part, but not actually on her lips. But far away from her cheek that it can't be misconstrued from her view. He smiles as her eyes open again and she blinks at him.
He's never seen Thena blush before.
"You know I wouldn't kiss you without asking," he whispers before pulling himself away from her. "But, uh, come find me after the play is done?"
"H-Hm," she squeaks out, taking a few stiff steps away, her heels clicking like a fawn's hooves as it learns to walk.
Gil goes back to setting up his bake sale spread, some renewed vigour swirling in his chest. He peeks up from the table. Mister Perky seems to have gotten the hint and has started directing parents with trays to take the other (smaller) tables. Gil is satisfied.
Ben loudly snaps a picture, practically giggling. "Habibti, you're as red as the tinsel."
"Stop it! And delete that!"
Gil chuckles to himself as Thena rushes back into the auditorium and away from the commotion he's just caused. He does hope she comes find him after, and not just because he's her ride home.
Ikaris gives him a strange look but Sersi rushes him inside too. She leans back into Gil's view to give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He blushes, but if Sersi thinks it was the right move then maybe he's onto something.
Gil takes a seat, ready to start selling. He has to admit that maybe he owes it to Mister Chatty to save him a brownie or something. But only if he gets to kiss Thena again later.
#Thenamesh AU#happy winter everyone!!!#I hope you're all taking some time to relax and be kind to yourselves#for those still reading thank you for all your continued to support#it still makes me happy to write Thenamesh so...I'm gonna keep doing it#Gil gets positively foaming at the mouth jealous#watching this tall blonde and handsome stranger chat up HIS Thena#Ikaris is thick as a brick being like I don't get it she's not his girlfriend#Sersi: how did we ever get married?#Ben noticed right away that Mister Golden Retriever was interested in Thena#and also noticed that the second he was close enough to speak with her Gil forgot what he was doing immediately#we see protective Gil plenty#but this is well and truly jealous#Thean thinks nothing of it#also she doesn't care about abs#she's more about arms iykyk#Gil sells out before the play even starts everything looks so good#he sneaks into the theatre just in time for the play to start#he tries to get a peek at Thena but she's at the other end of all their friends and it's dark#really she's just feeling shy#but she does sneak out the second the play is done to come and find him#she asks him how things sold#because she's nervous#he gets right to business and asks if he can kiss her for real this time#without all their friends watching and taking pitcures#not that he doesn't ask Ben to send him the pictures from before anyway#they kiss for so long that eventually their friends come find them again anyway#Jack is confused what the big deal is because he has always thought Uncle Gil and Aunt Thena were married#Ben: actually they're not sweetie#Jack: they're kissing obviously they are
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songbirdseung · 26 days ago
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silly boy / park sunghoon
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your "friends" keep telling you that your new boyfriend is too much of a shy nerd for you, but they don't know how much of a man the silly boy is.
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the bar tonight was much quieter than usual, just a few people spread out in the tiny, cozy bar. quiet background music accompanied the murmurs of different conversations shared throughout the room. you were with your friends, laughing and chatting, having a good time, when all of a sudden, the smile on your face faded into a small frown. the conversation had shifted to your boyfriend, sunghoon.
sunghoon, park sunghoon. your boyfriend of two amazing years. he was currently at home, in his home office, working late. while you were out here with your friends, the same friends who never truly understood why you’d started a relationship with him in the first place.
don’t get them wrong—they thought he was gorgeous, practically model material, but sunghoon’s quiet, reserved nature wasn’t their idea of "boyfriend material." they’d often remind you that you deserved someone affectionate, someone who’d shower you with love openly and without hesitation, someone who wouldn’t be shy about showing the world how much they adored you.
but their words always went in one ear and out the other. because they didn’t see what you saw. they didn’t see how, behind closed doors, in the quiet moments away from the world, sunghoon clung to you like glue—superglue, even. he wasn’t loud about his love, but it was there, steady and unwavering, in every little thing he did. it never bothered you how he presented himself to others; his love for you was real, even if it wasn’t on display for everyone to see.
"i can’t believe you’ve made it this long with him," one of your friends said, breaking your thoughts.
you sighed, rolling your eyes. the urge to speak up, to defend him, bubbled in your chest. "you guys just don’t get it," you said, your tone calm but firm.
"we’re not trying to be mean," another friend chimed in, raising her hands defensively. "it’s just… don’t you want someone who’s a little more… present? someone who’ll shower you with affection all the time?"
you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms. "he does show affection. just not in the way you expect him to. not everyone has to be loud about love to mean it."
"but, yn," another friend interjected, "you’re the kind of person who loves big gestures, who deserves to feel like the center of someone’s world."
"and i do," you countered, your voice a little sharper this time. "just because he doesn’t yell it from the rooftops doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me. it’s in the little things. like how he texts me to remind me to eat when he knows I’m busy. or how he’ll wake up early to make sure my coffee is ready before I leave. or how he never lets me go to bed upset, even if it means staying up all night to talk it out. you guys don’t see that side of him because he doesn’t show it to everyone. he shows it to me, and that’s enough."
your friends exchanged glances, clearly unsure of how to respond.
"look," you said, your tone softening, "i appreciate that you care about me. but sunghoon and i, we work. and that’s all that matters."
just then, your phone buzzed on the table. you glanced at the screen and felt your heart flutter at the sight of his name. the message was simple: "don’t stay out too late. i miss you."
a small smile crept onto your face as you typed back a quick reply. your friends noticed the change in your expression but didn’t say anything.
"he’s not perfect," you admitted, putting your phone down. "but he’s perfect for me."
the conversation shifted back to lighter topics after that, but as the night wore on, you found yourself glancing at your phone more often than usual.
later, as you walked into your apartment, you saw him waiting for you in the living room, still in his work clothes, his laptop closed on the coffee table. his eyes lit up when he saw you, and without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if you’d been gone for weeks.
"missed you," he murmured against your hair.
"i missed you too," you whispered back, your heart swelling with warmth.
and in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you were reminded all over again why their opinions didn’t matter. because this? this was love. quiet, steady, and unshakable.
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xazse · 4 months ago
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Warnings: KittyHybrid!Reader: ears and a tail that’s all + Prince!Satoru + Chubby!Reader + dryhumping + consensual somnophilia + mentions of Prince!Suguru, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna + Fem!Reader + Royalty Au
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Imagine Satoru’s parents gifting Prince!Gojo a pet, a different type of pet, you’re a hybrid, a human with ears and a tail. Usually your kind is sought upon to be tested on and even used as maids. Everyone wants their hands on hybrids they go for millions of dollars because of how rare they are.
So when his parents call for him to come to the throne room he’s apprehensive thinking they were gonna introduce him to another princess, one he doesn’t even want. He thinks they’re all the same, so ready to pop out a baby to get that title.
When his parents have the maids bring you in he’s in awe, you’re a pretty thing too, he knows you were so fucking expensive just by the color of your fluffy ears and tail. A chubby thing he can’t keep his eyes off.
The dress you have on brings out your curves nice and plump he’s already obsessed.
“One of those Cathybrid ladies Satoru.” His dad is the first to speak, he beckons you over and you obediently follow to stand at his side.
“All for you my beautiful boy, you’ve been working extremely hard, no more sneaking out or causing trouble. We are very proud of you.” His adoring mother says in a soothing tone.
“She’s yours to do what you want with, she comes from a bad place be wary of that Satoru.”
His parents tell him to leave and become familiar with you.
Satoru doesn’t consider himself to be a shy person but right now he can’t even speak, you’re both sat on his bed sitting in silence, it’s really killing him, he wants to
Tell you just how pretty you are but he needs to be cautious not creepy.
With baby steps and lots of patience Satoru and you are finally comfortable with each other, maybe you’re too comfortable. You won’t leave Satoru alone at all, you constantly whine to be with him at all times.
He needs to go to an important meeting? You’re there right by his side always. His parents have had to reprimand you both for being too touchy in public, no you can’t secretly sneak off just to suck on Satoru’s thick tongue.
Satoru loves when you’re both in his room and in the midst of the cuddling session you start purring it’s so rare but so damn cute, you don’t even seem to recognize you’re doing it, you just look so content laying on him and rubbing all over him secretly purring.
The licking gets him too, he can’t help but slip his hand into his pants when you lick his chest, he fondles his cock till he cums on himself, his loud whines from the pleasure feel way too good.
He fondles your tail and ears to get you going, you’re both too shy to go any further than just dry-humping each other but it does get the job done, by the end of the session your both covered in sweat and underwear ruined with how wet they are.
He loves the extra fat on your body, it drives him insane, Prince!Satoru won’t admit it but he loves dragging his fat cock on your clothed plump ass from time to time when your sleep, you’ve said you don’t mind and that he’s free to do what he pleases but that’s all he’ll do just hump away till he cums again and again in his pants.
Prince Satoru and his cute kitty!hybrid that he just adores to the point where he loves showing you off to the other princes mainly: Suguru, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna.
They’re extremely jealous, they’ve been trying to find something like you but keep coming up empty so all they can do is get crumbs of information Satoru gives.
He’s always bragging about how you won’t leave him alone how they’re so unlucky to not have you.
When they talk to you they find that you’re extremely friendly, so friendly that you don’t mind when they give you tight hugs or maybe small kisses on the cheek. Prince Sukuna has tried and failed to get you to be with him many many times, everytime you give him that confused tilt and say you’re Satoru’s.
Sweet Prince Nanami makes sure to always gives you pretty roses that you just love, Satoru always has to win your affection back by giving you an even bigger bouquet of flowers.
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luveline · 7 months ago
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I can’t remember if you’ve done one yet of Jack being jealous of the new baby not because of his dad’s attention but because of readers!
“Jack, Jack, Jack,” Aaron says, hands on Jack’s shoulders where his son sits at the kitchen table, “I forgot to tell you, I got you a present.” 
“What kind?” Jack asks, used to presents by now. There’s been books, crayons, and enough toy cars to fill his parking garage to the brim. 
“What kind do you think?” 
He likes when his dad speaks like that. Aaron’s a peppy dad, he says everything in an altered bubbly tone that makes Jack smile, but his best voice is the soft one. Lightly teasing. He hugs Jack with one arm from behind, pressing his nose to Jack’s hair momentarily. 
“A big one?” Jack asks. 
“Sort of…” Aaron smiles. “Do you want me to go get it?” 
Jack’s about to say yes with a laugh, his excitement like a warm flame just below an outheld hand, but he stops when he hears a familiar gurgly sound and your loving laughter. 
“I know, baby.” That’s your voice, tired and soft as his father’s. “You’re exhausted. Let me give you a little squeeze before you sleep, hm? You’ll cry yourself awake if I don’t, you get all those trapped burps.” You laugh to yourself.
Jack sighs and turns back to his drawing. “Okay, dad,” he says, clearly monotonous. 
Aaron frowns behind his head. “Okay, buddy. It’s in the den.” 
“Okie dokie.” 
“Jack,” he says, and not a lot else. 
Aaron can’t wrap his head around it. Jack was so, so excited for Noah. He bragged to everyone at school that his step-mom was having a baby, that he’d have a little brother, and that they were all moving into a big house with a nice yard to play soccer. Jack and Noah Hotchner, best friends since the minute Noah was born. Or, that’s what you and Aaron hoped for.
It started well. Jack is gentle, and he’s understanding; he realised the baby would need extra care, and he’s done nothing but kiss and cuddle his new brother whenever they’re together. You got him a sound machine and some custom fitted earplugs for the long nights of crying, you never put Noah before him if you could help it. Aaron even pencilled in an hour of Jack time each day, but it isn’t working anymore. Jack’s just sad. 
The present is a jigsaw puzzle. A thousand pieces of guaranteed time spent together, but Aaron doesn’t have high hopes. 
He takes the two short steps down into the den to meet your eyes, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t know,” he mouths. 
You pat the baby’s back. “Well, I might have a suggestion.”
He couldn’t want to hear it more. “Tell me.” 
You hold his baby (your baby but his more urgently, the feeling an ache in his chest and hands) still as small and curled as a rabbit against your chest. Noah’s legs twitch in his onesie, his dark hair short where it brushes your lips. “I think maybe Jack misses me. I miss him, and I’m the grown up. I feel like I barely see him even though we’re living in the same house.” 
Aaron pauses, resting the jigsaw puzzle on the sideboard.
There’s no point in underselling the importance of you in Jack's life. You’re integral to Jack’s happiness, and Aaron can’t believe he hadn’t thought of your suggestion before now; he’s amazed by his own ego. Of course Jack misses you. You spend half your life nursing, which is half a life away from you he didn’t feel before.
“That’s what it is,” Aaron says. 
“Yeah?” you ask. 
He takes Noah from your arms, settling him on the slope of his chest. “If it isn’t, we might be out of answers.” Aaron rubs Noah’s back with delight. It’s nice to see a solution to Jack’s upset in sight, and nice to hold the baby while he’s in a good mood. “Seriously, honey. I think you’re right.” 
“What are we gonna do if it isn’t me?” 
“Give this one back?” 
“That’s not funny.” 
“Sorry, I’m kidding!” He gives Noah a little soft kiss. “Just kidding, beautiful. You’re all mine.” 
You take the jigsaw and give him a smile that borders shy. If his arms weren’t full he’d take your wrist in his hand and hold it for a while, but there’s stuff to do. You emerge from the den to the kitchen and Aaron follows. 
“Jack.” 
Jack immediately spins in his seat. Aaron doesn’t need to be a profiler to know your theory is correct. The change in Jack is unmissable. 
“Y/N,” he says, hiding his hope poorly. 
You show him the jigsaw. “I know it’s supposed to be your time with dad, but maybe it can be time with me instead? What do you think?” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah!” You pop the jigsaw in front of him without crushing his drawings. “Can we? I miss you.” 
“I miss you!” he says. 
“Yeah?” You brush his hair back. “You do?” 
“I do, I want to do the puzzle with you! Can we do it?” 
Your smile is part relief, part love. You hook a chair with your ankle and pull it under you as you sit, fingernail already scratching at the plastic wrap on the puzzle to pull it open. “We’re gonna do it right now.” 
The puzzle is a lot of pieces, you’ve barely completed the frame when it’s time for everyone to head to bed, but, reluctant, you and Jack sit at the table where Jack’s climbed into your lap for a ‘better view’, and you’ve wrapped your arms around him, occasionally loosing an arm to direct him to a right piece. The baby put to bed, Aaron pretends to pay more attention to cleaning the kitchen than he’s truly doing, finding himself leaning against the counter with a sterilised bottle in hand as you stroke Jack’s hair. 
“You know I love you?” you ask quietly. 
“Duh. You tell me all the time.” 
“I don’t want you to forget.” 
“I don’t.” 
Jack snaps a puzzle piece in to place and preens at your murmured, “Good job. Maybe we can try to do some of this every night you’re home?” 
Jack doesn’t cry, but it ties Aaron’s heart into a knot anyways when he turns into your chest to hug you tightly. “Okay,” Jack says, voice muffled by your t-shirt. 
You pat his back. His hands scrunch up like he’s worried you’re gonna pull away. 
“Can I get in on this?” Aaron asks. 
“No,” you both say. 
“Please?” 
Jack rubs his cheek into your collar. He doesn’t want to share. “No, dad. It’s not your time.” 
He supposes he does get you every night. “Fine. I love you, though.” 
“Love you too.” 
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kailoweenie · 29 days ago
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Hyun-Ju/player 120 x Trans! Reader
A/N: can be read both as Transfem/woman reader or Transmasc/man reader. The reader is implied to have a physical appearance that points out they're not cis (e.g facial structures, hair, voice, etc but not specified!)
This is also very self indulgence because.....I'm a trans guy who really likes her so....T4T duo fr fr
Also the fact that there's barely any GIFs of her is crazy, I took this gif from an edit of her by @/slutcountry on TikTok LOL
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You were here for a similar reason as she was. Whether it's to begin/continue HRT or start physically transitioning with surgery or even simply just needing the money to move to someplace more accepting
The first time you saw her was during the face scan at the very beginning of round 1. You just couldn't help but notice player 120 amongst the other players.
Your eyes widened as you realized that she could've been trans. Maybe it was a wild assumption at the moment but if you were right....then there was another player in the game who was just like you.
The first time you properly talked was during round 2 of the games.
With the other players reacting to you negatively for simply being or looking trans. You had no choice but to muster up the courage to approach the girl that you had been shyly keeping an eye on.
"hey..." You trailed off, voice quiet as you gently- yet slightly awkwardly- rest a hand on her arm. You glanced at the people around you before taking a breath, finally speaking up "can i...is it...okay if I joined you...?".
When she first turned to look at you, you almost stumbled a bit in surprise.
Unlike some other players, there didn't seem to be any fear or judgement in her eyes....she simply smiled and nodded, her voice deep and soothing "of course. We needed one more in our group either way". You gave back a small smile, nodding in acknowledgement to the other 3 players you were teamed up with.
You end up deciding to play the 4th game, the one with the spinning top. You of course stayed quiet when the others needed focus while also calming and cheering the others on if they end up panicking.
When it was your turn, there was still quite some time left. Though as you failed the first time, panic slowly started to creep in.
That is, until you feel a warm hand resting on your shoulder. Looking to the right, you listened intently as player 120 calmed you down. Taking a deep breath like she told you to do, you managed to get it to spin the next try.
The smile on your face was bright as everyone cheered in excitement but the only thing you could focus on was how proud she seemed to look as you succeed.
By the end of the game, you went back to the bed quarters. All 5 of you buzzing with gratefulness that you survived another round.
You sat next to player 120, too shy to sit too close yet still wanting to be close to her presence.
It was the old woman who spoke up first, curious about the both of you considering you both were...a bit obvious you weren't cis.
It was her who spoke up first, talking about her experience and how she wanted the money to move away. You sat there silently as you listened, almost every part of the things she said...you could unfortunately relate to. The need to go somewhere more... accepting.
"...I know how you feel" you suddenly spoke up, all four of them seemed to turn to you. Your confidence faltering a bit at the attention yet you kept going, your gaze flickering to player 120's face.
"The...desperation. The need to go somewhere that might be more accepting to people like me...to people like us." You sighed, idly playing with the hem of the jacket's sleeves "I'm in the same boat. I'm not exactly...." You trailed off, waving your hand up and down your body, hoping they'd take the hint.
Her gaze softened at your words, a small smile on her lips at the confession. The others didn't seem to mind either. You knew it was probably a...bad idea getting attached yet you can't help but care deeply for the other four already.
•It was player 007 who spoke up after a few seconds of silence. Deciding to introduce himself and his mom. That's when you learned each other's names. And that's when you learned her name.
"Cho Hyun-ju...you uh- you have a nice name" you muttered, loud enough for her to hear. The compliment seemed to surprise her a bit, clear in her face that she wasn't expecting it. You expected her not to say anything back yet when she did, your heart was practically buzzing in happiness
"...you have a nice name too." She paused, giving you a small smile "it's nice to meet you".
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chosolar · 12 hours ago
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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!
gojo satoru x shy!femreader
part 1
mdni please! there are sexual themes.
flirty!satoru did his best to respect your wishes but he was losing his mind. with each day passing where he didn't hear from you, his overthinking got worse. what happened for you to distance yourself from him seemingly out of nowhere?
flirty!satoru refused to go out of his penthouse unless it was severely urgent. he would get his groceries delivered or ask either suguru or shoko to buy it for it. The two tried their best to get him to at least walk around his complex but satoru would drag his body weight, making it difficult to even get him up. it got to a point where shoko threatened him that she was going to tell you how disgusting he was being. (as mean as it was, it sure got the job done)
flirty!satoru had his phone basically glued to his hand. constantly refreshing his feeds and checking everyone's stories to see if you would be there in the background. it was his only solace, seeing you happy even if he did feel like he was there was a boulder on his chest that made him feel suffocated.
flirty!satoru who sat up instantly the millisecond he got your text. it didn't matter that it was 2 in the morning, he was responding to your message ASAP.
hey satoru I hope you're doing well. is it alright if I call you? 2:33 am
he replied with a quick "yes of course", and he didn't care if he sounded desperate, because well, he was. he's been waiting for you to reach out ever since he got that text a few weeks ago.
his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest, each heartbeat thumps harder than the previous. he watches as his phone lights up with your contact photo and name, the ringtone blasting. within the second ring, he picks up, greeting you with a shaky voice.
"hi satoru," he hears your nervousness through the phone. your voice is nasally and he can make out the soft sniffling, but he stays quiet. "how have you been?"
satoru contemplated on what to say. should he be honest, or should he lie and say that he was doing well without you?
"better now that I can hear your voice." his heart rate sped up as he hears you soft laugh, "how about you?"
you sigh before you answer. "I'm in a dilemma to be honest."
"wanna tell me what it's about?" he urges, hoping he'll get the answer he's been looking for. satoru puts you on speaker and lets his phone drop onto his bed, his full undivided attention on you.
"well it's about you... kinda," you drift off before you continue. "the night before I sent you that text, I was working and someone asked me out."
satoru pleads in silence that this was not going where he thinks it's going. with this anxious feeling creeping up on him again, he doesn't say anything.
his uncommon reticence worries you but you carried on with the story.
"I didn't go out with him if that's what you're thinking of. I like you too much to do that. it just had me thinking because we spent months being more than friends, but am I the only one who feels that way?"
"no of course not!" satoru retorts, "I promise that it's not one-sided. why do you feel this way?"
it took you a few minutes to gather your thoughts, but satoru doesn't rush you. he hears a shaky exhale before you speak up, "I've noticed that you're flirty with everyone. you're not shy with touching other people and it just makes me feel like maybe it's wrong of me to feel special when I'm not the only one you've done these things with..."
flirty!satoru doesn't invalidate your feelings. he acknowledges each and every reason why you feel the way you do. satoru takes his time explaining that yes, he may be flirty and he's quite touchy, but it's different when it comes to you. the things he's done with you, he's never done with anyone else despite him having exes. although it's almost been a year since he's met you, the butterflies have never gone away and that each day his feelings grow.
flirty!satoru continues listing all the reasons why he loves likes you. he assures you that he may look like a fuckboy, he's far from it. he reminisces the time he had suguru psych him up to get your number because he's never had to ask for anyone's number (humble brag from him). he exhales a sigh of relief that the story earned a giggle from you.
flirty!satoru debates on telling you, but decided on keeping his plans of asking you out a secret. he wanted to prove to you that you're it for him and that there's no one else but you. satoru's big on actions speaking a lot more than words, so before he asks you out, he wants you to feel secure.
flirty!satoru posts you on his story constantly!!! whether you're out on a grocery run or a mini road trip for the long weekend, you can always count on satoru posting a soft launch story that has you in it. you don't know it, but satoru also has a secret instagram account, and the only thing he posts on it are pictures of you with the dates on it and a small paragraph of what you guys did that day. he likes to think it's modern-day scrapbooking.
flirty!satoru is obsessed with calling you nicknames, and as much as he loves saying your name - he will never not love calling you sweet nicknames like pretty girl, honey, or baby. satoru's fond of how your cheeks turn red and how you try to cover your face when he calls you any nicknames. it gives him cuteness aggression so bad, he ends up pinching your cheeks!
flirty!satoru can see how your eyes drift to look at his lips when you're talking to him face to face. you think you're so slick with it but satoru's quicker. whenever you do that little triangle trick you saw on tiktok, he leans in so he catches you by surprise. he observes with gleaming eyes as you back up to give yourself distance from him, but he just wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him as he says, "hmm what was that baby?"
flirty!satoru has to hold himself back whenever he sees a customer come up to you and try to flirt with you. first and foremost, flirting is his thing! and second, he gets so jealous that sometimes he can't contain himself and ends up intervening. he'd make some stupid excuse to get you to leave like "hey I think someone clogged the toilet, can you check it please?" or something like that. you have to clean the stinky toilet but seeing satoru jealous is always a plus.
flirty!satoru is shocked when you made the first move and kissed him one night. it was the fact that you were sober too that surprised him even further. with you on top of him as he's sitting relaxed on the couch, his attention on the tv screen is stolen when you press your lips against his. the kiss, a seemingly innocent peck on the lips, turned into a heated make out session when satoru let go of his inhibitions. his hands roamed all over your body as his lips continue peppering kisses onto your cheeks, your jaw, and even down to your neck. satoru trails his hands from your body to hold your face gently so he can give you a final kiss before hugging you tightly.
flirty!satoru throws out all his ideas of asking you out, and opts for an intimate moment. on a cool wednesday night, he takes you back to his penthouse as per usual. he opens the door and waits to see your surprised face. he boasts that he decorated the place all by himself and even burned himself a few times with the hot glue gun to make the giant heart sign asking for you to be officially his (ngl it sounds like he's proposing but I mean who doesn't wanna marry satoru). obviously you said yes! let's just say that the heart balloons that were hanging and the flower petals scattered all over his living room were everywhere the morning after and cleaning it all up was tedious...... (but at least it was a fun night!)
flirtybf!satoru immediately changes all his profile pictures on every social media he has to pictures with you. his bio? your initials. his stories? all of you. he does not gaf he wants to show you off! the best part is satoru only follows a couple of people — you, suguru, shoko, and a few of his close relatives. satoru wants you to know that he only cares about you and only you. he never wants to and never will make you feel like you're in competition with anyone.
flirtybf!satoru is a no bs type of guy. now that your relationship was out in the open, you've gotten so many dms from other people trying to sabotage your relationship. satoru did not spend almost half a year proving his love to you for some jealous losers to try and break it, so he blocked the people who dmed you from his account and privated it.
flirtybf!satoru loves going on vacations with you, especially if it's a destination you've been telling him about. he'll almost always keep it a secret so that you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything. costs, booking it off, transportation, he takes care of everything so the only thing you need to do is pack your bags. satoru loves how carefree you are when you're away from everyone else, and it's just the two of you in your own little world.
flirtybf!satoru is insatiable. his sex drive is so incredibly high, you wonder where his stamina comes from since he rarely did any sports. the first time you had sex, he wanted to take it slow because he wanted to savour the time with you. even though you were close when you two were just friends, having sex was a different level of intimacy. satoru wanted to show you that to him, this was not just a fuck that a one night stand will give you, no. it was making love, and he'll spend the whole night — dusk to dawn — just to show you how much he loves each and every part of you.
flirtybf!satoru started working out during his free time. he overheard you telling your friends that you love a man with a sleeper build, and well whatever his love wants, you will get. it doesn't take long until he starts seeing the fruits of his labor. he seldoms wear a shirt when he's home with just you, choosing to just wear a pair of sweatpants that he doesn't bother tying up so you can see the waistband of his calvin klein boxers. even though you two fuck often, he thinks it's so captivating that you still get bashful whenever he's being coy with you.
flirtybf!satoru loves talking about the future with you. he'll often ask you what kind of house you see yourself living in with him, and he'll make sure to get every little detail you're telling him. you've already moved into his penthouse after he begged for days for you to leave your apartment and just live with him. he takes notice of how you decorate and makes a mental note of it. satoru will make sure to say "when we have kids" or "when we're married", because he knows you're his endgame and he just can't wait for the day he's been looking forward to since he fell in love with you.
flirtybf!satoru surprises you with a trip to your dream vacation that you guys didn't get to go to before. the weather was horrendous, so the flight was cancelled but satoru booked another one closer to your birthday. he didn't tell you about it because he had a plan to make your birthday extra special. after you were done packing, he tells you that he'll meet you in the car. before satoru leaves the penthouse and locks the door, he double checks that the engagement ring is packed securely in his bag.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈
hi everyone! I hope this satisfies everyone's request for a part 2 ◡̈ ngl I had to use some moments with my boyfriend because my mind was blanking out and I am prayinggggg that this one is not a disappointment to you guys! again not proofread <3
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈
taglist:
@lvrndkoo @sorenflyinn @realalpacorn @ninani-nanina @msun1c0rn @ourfinalisation @rio-reid-whoreee @staarflowerr @leonesimp @okayiamkassandra @starpachinko @atashiboba @blueemochii @hawkswifie @secrtjncoblog @esperssox @smiling-16
a few of them did not show up so please let me know if you didn't get a notification ◡̈
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mrsfancyferrari · 1 month ago
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Mistletoe Magic
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Summary: OP81 + “What are you doing with that mistletoe– oh.”
Song: All I Want for Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
Word count: 8.8k
MASTERLIST - F1
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You’ve liked Oscar for a while now—longer than you probably want to admit. Maybe it started as a silly crush, like the kind you read about in romance novels where the protagonist can’t help but blush at the mere sight of her crush. But this was different.
Oscar wasn’t just a flicker of attraction; he was a spark that ignited every time he entered the room.
Everyone around you seemed to sense it, from your friends to his teammates. You’ve witnessed plenty of sideways glances over the months, most of them playful nudges and knowing whispers, but they fell on deaf ears.
The one person who mattered—the one you were enamored with—had no clue.
With a frustrated sigh, you called Lando one evening. Your heart raced as you paced your apartment, the soft hum of your phone ringing soothingly in your ear.
“Lando, I can’t take it anymore,” you ranted as soon as he picked up.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he replied, a hint of laughter in his voice, probably because he could already sense your exasperation.
“It’s Oscar! I don’t know if he hates me or something!”
“Hate is a strong word,” he laughed, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face.
“It sure feels like it. He can’t even look at me, let alone speak to me! Every time I try to approach him, he finds some excuse to leave!”
Lando kept his tone light. “Okay, give me the details. You’re saying the guy is terrified of you?”
“It’s not funny!” You found yourself arguing, but even you had to stifle a chuckle. Lando was right; it just sounded ridiculous. “He’s not scared. He’s just… I don’t know, awkward. And the way he follows me on social media—not that I mind, but…”
“But? You’d rather he didn’t like your posts? Is that how you feel? Because I think he’s into you.”
“But he never talks to me! He just flicks and swipes through my photos like a ghost!” You dropped to the couch, running a hand through your hair. “What does it mean?”
Lando paused for a moment. “Maybe he’s just shy? You’re not exactly a wallflower, you know. You’re dazzling. He might feel intimidated.”
“Intimidated? By me?” You leaned back, disbelief etched across your face, but Lando’s sincerity hung in the air, urging you to consider it.
“I mean it,” Lando insisted. “Just imagine yourself in his shoes, surrounded by all his friends. He probably thinks you’re out of his league, and his social media habits? Maybe he’s trying to muster up the courage to say something. When was the last time you actually had a conversation?”
You furrowed your brow, the memories coming back like scenes from a vague film. “I think the last time we really talked was at that charity event a couple of months ago. We barely spoke for five minutes, and then he vanished.”
“Then you need a plan. A real plan. You can’t let him sweep away like that.” Lando’s voice dripped with assurance, as if he believed everything you felt was not only valid but fixable.
“What do you suggest? Should I just somehow trap him in a corner of a party?”
“Not exactly how I’d phrase it, but yeah, kinda,” Lando chuckled. “You’ve got to make your move, even if that means grabbing him right after practice or before the next race.”
The idea spiraled through your mind, one that filled you with both hope and anxiety. The next race was only a few days away. You had to do something.
The streets of Baku were alive with energy, an intoxicating mix of adrenaline and excitement that filled the air as the Grand Prix weekend unfolded.
You stood just outside the McLaren garage, your heart racing not from the prospect of the upcoming F1 race, but from being in the same space as the drivers you idolized—especially the charming Oscar Piastri.
“Hey, are you sure you’re ready for this?” Lola smirked, her eyes sparkling with teasing mischief. “I mean, with the way you look at Oscar, we might need to tie you down.”
“Shut up!” you laughed, swatting her arm, but inside, you felt a flutter of nerves. How could you even think about talking to him when your heart did backflips every time you laid eyes on his curly hair and boyish grin? “He doesn’t even know I exist.”
Aaliyah chimed in, her voice playful yet conspiratorial, “Or maybe he’s just shy! Guys act like that when they like someone, you know?”
“Please, you’re giving me false hope,” you sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “That’s the last thing I need today with the race and everything else going on.”
The paddock was bustling with activity. Mechanics darted between cars, engineers discussed strategies, and the sound of laughter mixed with the roar of engines.
“Let’s go inside,” Lola urged, pushing you toward the McLaren garage.
As you walked in, the familiar vibrant colors of the McLaren team enveloped you. There, surrounded by the scent of burnt rubber and the hum of teamwork, stood Oscar, deeply engaged in a conversation with the engineers, his focus absolute.
You mustered every ounce of courage, but just as you stepped closer, your gaze accidentally caught his. Time seemed to freeze.
For seven whole seconds, you locked eyes, and there was an undeniable spark, or perhaps you were imagining it, because just as quickly, he turned his head away, his cheeks crimson.
“See? What did I tell you?” you whispered to your friends, who were equally giddy with excitement.
“He totally likes you!” Lola teased, grinning from ear to ear while giving you a playful elbow to the ribs.
“Guys, he doesn’t want to talk to me. Trust me,” you replied, trying to sound unfazed, but it was difficult given the flutter in your chest.
“Did you see that? He totally likes you!” Lola declared with a gleeful bounce. “He looked at you like you were the only person in the room!”
“It’s not what you think,” you replied, trying to sound unfazed, but your heart was pounding in your chest. “He probably just didn’t expect me to be here.”
“Stop!” Lola said, feigning outrage. “You can’t keep denying this. You’ve been crushing on him for what, a year? Just go over there and talk to him!”
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but the knot in your stomach tightened. “It’s not that easy! He’s way out of my league.”
“Pfft. As if!” Lola tossed her hair dramatically. “You are amazing! If he can’t see that, then he’s the one missing out.”
Before you could muster another protest, the tide of the crowd shifted, and Lando walked over. “Hey Y/N,” he said, breaking into a warm smile. “Can I borrow you for a second?”
“Uh, sure…” you stammered, glancing back at Lola and Aayila, who were both wiggling their eyebrows in a way that was both comical and slightly alarming.
“Okay, just stay around here and do not go over to him,” you warned your friends and with a playful roll of your eyes, you followed him through the throng of people.
As you walked away, you didn’t see how Oscar’s gaze remained fixed on you, a flicker of curiosity dancing in his deep brown eyes.
Lando led you to a quieter corner of the venue, away from the pulsing crowd. “I just wanted to make sure you’re having a good time,” he said, leaning against the wall casually. “I know these events can be overwhelming.”
“Yeah, I’m good, just a bit… you know,” you mumbled, trying to shake off the embarrassment of being away from your friends. You took a deep breath, gesturing broadly with your hands.
“The music is great, and the atmosphere is amazing. I just—” you hesitated. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just nervous about being around all these people? You know it's a completely different atmosphere.”
Lando nodded knowingly. “I get that. If it helps, I’m here if you need a distraction from all the noise.”
Just as he said that, Lola's voice cut through the chatter like a knife.
“Y/N! Come back!” She was waving frantically, her other arm pointing toward Oscar, who was now staring directly at you.
Your stomach dropped. Lando caught your eye, his expression shifting from concern to amusement. “Looks like you have an admirer,” he said, nudging you playfully.
“Don’t even! He’s probably curious about why I’m speaking to you,” you quickly denied, cheeks flushing.
“Are you sure? Because it looks like he wants to speak to you instead of me,” Lando teased, his grin widening.
You rolled your eyes, but the heat on your cheeks didn’t fade. “Stop it. Oscar’s just being polite.”
“Polite? Y/N, that look he’s giving you is way more than polite,” he chuckled.
Despite yourself, you risked another glance at Oscar. He was still looking in your direction, a small smile creeping across his lips.
What was even more annoying was how attractive he looked in that moment, leaning against the wall, confidently engaging with a couple of people.
“Okay, maybe he isn’t just being polite,” you conceded, trying to feign indifference.
Lando leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What’s the deal with you two, anyway? I thought he 'hated' you.”
You shrugged, trying to keep your tone casual. “He does hate me maybe just not today.” But even as you said it, the truth felt slanted. There was something more that bubbled underneath the surface, something you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.
“Right,” Lando said, raising an eyebrow. “All I see are two people who clearly have some unresolved tension,” he smirked, clearly enjoying the fact that he could tease you.
Before you could reply, there was an announcement over the loudspeakers instructing all drivers to head to their garages and prepare for the race.
“See you later?” Lando asked, giving you a easy smile.
“Of course! Good luck, Lando,” you said, genuinely wishing him well. You knew how hard he trained and how much this race meant to him.
As he walked away, your attention shifted to Oscar, who was a few spaces down, adjusting his helmet strap. When he caught your eye, he hesitated for a moment, those familiar warm brown eyes locking onto yours.
He looked almost bashful as he realized you were watching him. “Good luck, Oscar!” you called out, trying to sound casual, though your heart raced.
His face broke into a magnificent grin, cheeks reddening slightly. “Thanks, Y/N!” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of excitement and appreciation.
He glanced down, fiddling with his gear as he turned to head into the garage.
You watched him disappear behind the metal doors, an inexplicable thrill coursing through you.
It was silly, was it not? Your hope had doubled just from this interaction but you knew it meant nothing in Oscar's eyes. . .
The adrenaline still buzzed in the air as the final laps of the Azerbaijan Grand Prix raced through everyone’s minds. The street circuit glimmered under the twilight sun as Oscar Piastri, the newly crowned champion of the day, burst from his car, his helmet clutched under his arm.
The roar of the crowd echoed off the old buildings surrounding the circuit, celebrating the victory that had become so hard-earned.
You had watched the entire race with bated breath, your heart pounding with each corner he navigated, each overtake he executed. You couldn’t believe it—Oscar had done it.
The memory of his previous win played faintly in your mind, but it didn't compare to this moment. This was the race where it felt like he had truly battled every inch of the track and his competitors for the victory.
“Are you guys going to come?” you asked, as you stood up, barely able to contain your excitement. Your fingertips tingled with anticipation.
“Nah, we’ll watch the celebrations from here. Go congratulate your boyfriend,” Aaliyah teased, her eyes sparkling as she nudged you playfully.
You felt a rush of warmth spread across your cheeks at the mention of the word “boyfriend.”
“We’re not dating, Aaliyah! It’s… it’s complicated!” you stammered, your excitement mingling with nerves.
“Complicated, huh?” she continued, her smirk undeniable. “You should probably clear that up once you get down there.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. It was more complicated than Aaliyah could imagine.
Today, watching him work so incredibly hard and finally claim that victory felt like a turning point that ignited a fire in you.
“Right,” you said, gathering courage and taking a deep breath. “I’ll be right back!”
With that, you made your way to the pit lane where his team was erupting in cheers, everyone surrounding Oscar as they hoisted him high above their heads.
The sight made your heart swell—he was a champion, and he was thriving.
When you reached the edge of the celebration, you watched him for a moment, his laughter ringing out bright and infectious. He had that light in his eyes, a rare spark that shone brightly after the stress of the race.
You hesitated, unsure if you wanted to interrupt the joyful chaos surrounding him.
Your moment of hesitation was abruptly interrupted when you felt a gentle tap on your arm. Turning, you found Tom, Oscar's race engineer, standing there with a warm, inviting smile.
"Y/N, should I bring you closer to Oscar?" he asked politely, as though he could sense your internal struggle.
You weren't quite sure how he even knew your name. You'd never formally introduced yourself, nor had you visited the paddock often enough for recognition. But amidst the whirlwind of happiness, you pushed your curiosity aside.
"Yes, please," you responded, the anticipation racing through you. Your heart pounded at the thought of actually getting to congratulate Oscar in person.
Tom nodded, leading you through the throngs of people, laughter, and cheerful chaos. The closer you got, the more your nerves fluttered. What would you say?
“Congratulations” felt too simple for what you wanted to express—too small for the monumental achievement he had just secured.
As you stepped closer, you could see Oscar surrounded by a group of teammates and a few friends.
“Oscar!” Tom called, breaking into the cheers. Oscar turned, and his face lit up even more when he spotted you.
“Y/N!” Oscar exclaimed, a hint of surprise in his voice. The way he said your name, like it was a sweet melody, made your heart skip.
You took a step closer, fueled by an impulse you weren’t sure would be welcomed.
“Congratulations, Oscar!” you said, and in an uncharacteristic burst of spontaneity, you pulled him into a hug. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and for a moment, the world around you faded.
It was weird to hug him—Oscar was not the type of person who hugged a lot. He was usually the stoic, strong type, but today was different.
You felt his arms wrap tentatively around you, and you almost pulled away out of embarrassment, but the thrill of the moment kept you there.
“Wow, I didn’t expect a hug,” he chuckled, his breath warm against your hair. “I mean, thank you! It means a lot coming from you.”
You released him slowly, feeling your cheeks heat up. "You were amazing out there. I could hardly believe it when you scored that final goal! The crowd went wild!"
His eyes sparkled with genuine happiness. “It was a team effort, honestly. But…” he paused, looking into your eyes, “I’m glad you were here to see it.”
In that moment, the world around you faded, the roaring crowd and chaotic celebrations dulled to a soft echo as his words hung suspended between you.
The emotions in his voice and eyes overflowed, washing over you like a wave, and it affected you more than you wanted to admit. You could feel the heat radiating from your cheeks; it felt like a stage light had been trained on you alone.
“I…,” you began, swallowing hard. “I need some air.”
The last thing you wanted was to break down under the weight of your feelings in front of everyone.
You patted his chest gently, though your touch lingered, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. “Go celebrate with the team; you deserve it. I’ll be around later,” you managed to say, your voice a mix of encouragement and self-preservation.
Letting go of him felt like releasing a balloon into the sky, and as you stepped back, you couldn’t shake the weight of what had just transpired.
He hesitated, searching your face for something—reassurance, clarity, whatever it was, he didn’t find it. But he nodded, albeit reluctantly, and turned to join his teammates.
You watched as he melded back into the celebration, his laughter ringing out above the rest.
The moment he turned away, you felt an overwhelming storm of emotions.
You had never had someone like Oscar reciprocate your feelings, and that scared you. The crush you had nurtured for so long was starting to sprout, but the uncertainty about what that might mean felt suffocating.
You wandered toward a quieter corner of the stadium, trying to catch your breath. Leaning against a cool metal railing, you watched the team celebrate, the glint of victory sparkling in their eyes.
Everyone was so happy, so carefree. You could hear Oscar’s laughter clearly, a sound that made your chest constrict with a mixture of joy and fear.
Why was this so complicated?
The bustling atmosphere around the racetrack was electric, but finding McLaren's hospitality room amidst the chaos of the after-race frenzy proved to be a little more challenging than expected.
A couple of minutes passed as you navigated through the throngs of jubilant fans and team members, your pulse quickening with each wave of color and sound, when you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder.
You turned sharply to see Lola, her blonde curls bouncing with enthusiasm, eyes bright with excitement.
“Hey! We’re going to the club to celebrate Oscar’s win later. You coming?” she asked, her voice almost melodic over the murmur of the crowd.
You hesitated, wringing your hands nervously as a wave of uncertainty washed over you. “Um, I’m not sure…” You couldn’t shake the thought of retreating to your safe, quiet apartment instead.
“Oh, come on! It won’t be the same without you,” Lola urged, her eyes wide with sincerity. “Oscar was asking where you went. He really wants you there!”
There it was again—the familiar tightness in your chest that accompanied thoughts of Oscar. The way he had smiled when he had crossed the finish line, the joy that radiated from him like an aura. “Really? He said that?”
“Of course!” Lola replied, rolling her eyes playfully. “You’re his lucky charm. He’ll be bummed if you miss out.”
You bit your lip, weighing your options. It would be so easy to slip away, return to that quiet corner of your life where things felt safe and uncomplicated. But was that truly what you wanted?
The thought of Oscar’s disappointment tugged at your heart, igniting a flicker of bravery deep within.
“All right, I’ll go,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt.
Lola beamed at you, the corners of her mouth curving with delight as she spun around. “Yay! I’ll meet you in a bit then! You have to look fabulous, so hurry!”
With that, she bounced off into the crowd, leaving you standing there, a rush of excitement and anxiety swirling within you. You had just enough time to get to your apartment, so you hurriedly made your way back to your place, thoughts racing.
The moment you stepped inside, you knew you had to pick the perfect outfit. 
The air in the apartment felt charged with anticipation as you rummaged through your closet, trying to piece together the perfect outfit.
After a long week filled with monotony, tonight was a chance to step out of your comfort zone. You settled on a sleek black club dress, the kind that hugged your figure in all the right places. The fabric shimmered subtly under the light, giving you an air of elegance while the plunging neckline added just a hint of daring.
You paired it with your favorite strappy heels that always made you feel like you were walking on clouds.
With a final glance in the mirror, you felt the tiniest bit of confidence swell within you. Maybe, just maybe, tonight would be different. You pushed a few errant strands of hair behind your ear, took a deep breath, and stepped out the door.
As you made your way through the bustling city streets, the energy around you buzzed with life, the neon lights of the club flickering in the distance.
When you finally arrived, you could feel the beat of the bass thumping in your chest. The air was thick with excitement, laughter mingling with the rhythmic pulse of the music.
You spotted Lola right away. She was a whirlwind of energy, chatting animatedly with a few friends, her laughter cutting through the noise like a beacon. You pushed through the crowd, your heart racing not just from the music but the thought of seeing Oscar.
As soon as Lola saw you, her eyes lit up like a thousand fireworks, and she waved her arms as if she were a traffic conductor guiding you through the chaos.
“There she is!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling over with excitement.
“Lola! You look amazing!” you replied, enveloping her in a hug.
“Thanks! But look at you in that dress! Wow! You’re going to turn some heads tonight.” She stepped back, her eyes sweeping over your outfit with awe. “Are you ready for a night of fun?”
“Let’s hope so! Just promise to help me if I start to fade into the background,” you laughed nervously.
Loka grinned. “You will not fade. Just follow my lead!”
You two made your way deeper into the club, where the lights spun like stars and bodies moved in a kaleidoscope of color.
The pulsating bass of the club thrummed through your chest as you and Lola maneuvered deeper into the throng of bodies. Lights twinkled overhead, cutting through the smoky air like stars scattered across a midnight sky, and everywhere you looked, people danced with abandon, swaying to the rhythm of the music.
You felt the energy of the crowd washing over you, but in the back of your mind, you couldn't shake off the nervousness that settled there.
“Apparently Oscar’s coming later,” Lola said, her voice a melody lifted above the noise as she twirled, her skirt flaring out around her.
Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name, though thinking of him made your stomach churn; the last time you saw him, your feelings had bubbled over in an awkward, embarrassing moment.
You’d pushed him away, confused and overwhelmed, leaving him staring after you with a look you couldn’t decipher—a blend of disappointment and surprise.
“I can’t wait to see him! I just… I should probably apologize today,” you replied, trying to sound lighthearted, but your voice betrayed the nerves knotting tight in your belly.
Lola chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just don’t trip over your words. That would be classic you!”
You shot her a playful glare. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
A few minutes later, the music faded slightly as the DJ called for attention. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he boomed through the speakers, “We have a special guest in the house tonight—the winner of the race! Give it up for Oscar Piastri!”
The club erupted into cheers, and your heart raced as you turned to face the entrance. The door swung open, revealing Oscar, flanked by Lando and Max, both radiant with victory and excitement. The crowd surged toward them, voices rising in a joyous cacophony.
“There he is!” Lola shouted over the music, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the moment. “Go on! Go say hi!”
But as you tried to get closer, a wall of fans obscured the pathway, blocking you from reaching him. You clenched your fists in frustration.
Why was fate working against you?
“Let’s just wait by the bar,” you suggested, resigned. “I’ll wait until the fans clear out, and then I can talk to him.”
“Suit yourself, but I’m going to the dance floor!” Lola laughed, waving as she disappeared into the mass of moving bodies.
You downed a drink, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of hope and despair. Time passed, and you remained at the bar, only to see the fans crowding around Oscar, capturing selfies and shouting his name.
He seemed gracious yet slightly overwhelmed, laughter spilling from him as he interacted with the crowd.
As the minutes dragged on and your drink count steadily rose, you felt your heart sink lower. It was hard to swallow as more people pressed in, and when you finally dared to look back, your heart lurched painfully.
There, in the midst of the frenetic energy of the club, stood Oscar with a beautiful girl, their lips brushing together in an unexpected kiss.
Your breath caught in your throat, and a rush of tears threatened to spill over.
You turned away, biting down on your lip. “What am I even doing here?” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head as if that could shake off the image before it lodged itself into your mind like a stubborn burr.
It was absurd, really. You hadn’t even realized you had that much feelings for him until this very moment, and now, every insecurity you possessed rose up like a tide.
The club seemed to swell and pulse around you, but its vibrant atmosphere faded into silence.
The laughter turned into whispers, and you could almost hear your own thoughts screaming: He’s out of your league. She’s everything you’re not.
Suddenly, you felt claustrophobic, trapped in a cycle of unwanted feelings and doubt.
As if on autopilot, you threaded your way through the crowd, pushing past gyrating bodies, dodging the strobe lights that seemed to explode in front of your eyes. You reached the exit and stepped outside.
The fresh air hit your face like a splash of water, shockingly crisp against the sticky humidity of the club. You leaned against the cool brick wall of the alley beside the entrance and breathed deeply, trying to get your bearings.
“What did I expect?” you whispered to the empty night. “Of course he’d choose someone like her.”
Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, and a message popped up. It was from Lola.
“Where did you go? I thought you were in there! I found a booth by the bar! Get back in! :)”
You almost typed back, “I’ll stay out here forever,” but instead, you just hit the home button and sighed. The night was still young. Maybe there was more to this evening than you could see.
You took a moment, your mind racing. The truth was, you liked Oscar. Like, really liked him.
You had hoped that tonight might be the night you could tell him, but that seemed impossible now. . . .
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You sit on your bed, the soft quilt embraced by the evening light filtering through your curtains. The room feels heavy, shadows gather, and silence reigns from the world outside.
You set your phone down, and the earlier events flood back.
The memory of that night at the club is vivid. The pulsating beat of the music had echoed through your heart, but all that vibrancy shattered like glass when you spotted them.
Oscar—your Oscar—leaning in, kissing someone else. You had felt the blood drain from your face, the weight of a thousand crushed dreams falling on your shoulders.
“Why did I come here?” you whisper, even though your bedroom feels like a cocoon, wrapped away from the world outside.
In a moment of impulsivity, you had blocked Oscar on every social media platform you could think of. His posts would only serve as daggers, and you wouldn’t let him hurt you like that.
You wonder if he even noticed. Lando, his best friend and a thousand times more perceptive, had already begun to question you.
Just moments before, your phone buzzed with a text. It was Lando, naturally, with his usual bluntness: “Hey, why did you leave the club yesterday??? Did you get sick or something?”
The truth clawed at you, but you didn’t owe them any explanation. So, you replied with a simple lie.
“Just felt tired. I’ve been working too much lately.”
You knew he wouldn’t buy it, but you hoped to evade the topic long enough for things to quiet down.
Turning your phone face down, you sigh and lean back against your pillows. The weight of the night settles over you—anger, sadness, longing—and then your phone buzzes again.
“Hey, you okay?” Lando’s message flashes across the screen.
Your heart races. “Yeah, just tired,” you type, heart pounding, expecting his response any moment.
“You don’t sound like it,” Lando replies, and you can almost picture him furrowing his brow, a concerned expression tightening his features. The thought stings, a remembrance of all the times he has been there for you, holding space in his easily approachable way.
“Seriously, Lando, I’m fine. Just needed some air,” you type back, each word more strained than the last.
He replies quickly. “You want me to come over? We can have a movie night or something.”
As tempting as it sounds, the idea both comforts and terrifies you. You know Lando well enough to recognize that he’d dig deeper into your feelings, convinced something is wrong.
Still, there's a part of you that craves that familiarity, the bond you share.
“No, it’s all good. Just need some time alone,” you respond, unsure of your own feelings.
“That’s not really your style, though. You’re always inviting me over. What’s up?” Lando pushes back gently, a sense of worry lacing through his words.
You can’t hide from the truth forever, but admitting your feelings about Oscar feels too raw, too exposed. Lando’s your friend, but he’s also Oscar’s best friend; anything you say could wind up back to him, and you’re not ready for that.
“I just saw something—something I didn’t want to see at the club,” you finally muster, the honesty spilling from your fingertips despite your reservations.
There’s a pause—a beat of silence—and for a moment, you wonder if he’s already piecing it together.
“You mean Oscar?” Lando asks, his tone softer but still probing. “What about him?”
“Nothing.” The word feels hollow, the truth clawing at your throat. “I just... I just need some space, alright?”
“Are you sure that’s it?” Lando persists. “You and Oscar were pretty tight when he won until…”
You cut him off. “Until he kissed a girl right in front of me?” The anger again simmers to the surface. “I think I have a right to be upset.”
Another pause from Lando, and you can sense the concern shift in his tone. “Do you want to talk about it? Because I’m here, you know. You can tell me.”
The dam inside you threatens to break. The memories of your laughter, the fun late-night conversations, the promises whispered amongst friends; they flood your mind like a tidal wave, overwhelming you.
“What am I supposed to say, Lando? That I got my heart broken? That I liked him more than a friend and now he’s off with some random girl?”
A soft sigh echoes from his end. “That’s... tough, I get it. But you know Oscar, he—”
“Knows how to play with everyone’s feelings, apparently.” Your voice sharpens, the words tasting bitter. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” Lando insists, and there’s a quiet strength in his tone that covers you like a reassuring blanket.
“I...” The protest slips from your lips, but you can’t help yourself. It comes rushing out. “I’ve liked Oscar for so long, Lando! And to see him throw it all away with someone else was just... it was like the ground fell from beneath me. I don’t want to feel like this. It hurts.”
Lando falls silent on the other end, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve crossed a line, if you’ve shared too much.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he finally asks, his voice gently probing. “I would have kept my mouth shut about it—”
“I didn’t want to ruin what we had,” you admit, the weight behind your voice strong now. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“All friendships can survive that.” His tone softens. “And honestly, it’s okay to feel hurt. It’s more than okay; it’s natural.”
Suddenly overwhelmed, tears brim at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “I just wanted to be happy, Lando. And now, I don’t know... I feel lost.”
“Hey, listen to me.” Lando’s voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts. “You are so much more than how Oscar makes you feel. It’s his loss if he can’t see you for the incredible person you are.”
The resolve in his words wraps around you like a lifeline. A small warmth unfurls in your chest, a flicker of hope that perhaps you can heal from this hurt, that you can find a way to be more than just a side character in someone else's story.
“Thanks, Lando,” you say softly, the sincerity warming your heart.
“Anytime.” He pauses for a moment and then adds, “But I'm coming over tomorrow for that movie night; we’re going to drown ourselves in popcorn and bad romantic comedies until you feel better.”
You smile, though it’s still fragile. “Okay, deal.”
As you hang up, the shadows in your room seem less daunting, the weight a little lighter. Just maybe, you think as you finally allow your eyelids to flutter closed, the dawn will bring a new perspective.
And perhaps, amongst friendship and healing, you’ll find your way back to yourself.
The next day, Lando sat across from you on your well-worn couch, a colorful array of snacks spread between you. The smell of popcorn and sweets filled the air, a comforting distraction.
You had planned this night as a refuge from your thoughts, to sink into the warmth of a rom-com and ignore the knot tightening your stomach at the memories of Oscar.
As the movie played—a predictable plot about two people destined to be together—you tried to focus, but the image of Oscar’s lips brushing against that girl’s haunted you.
Halfway through the film, Lando suddenly turned toward you, his brow furrowed in concern. “Are you mad at him?”
“What?” You blinked, stunned by the abruptness of the question.
“Are you mad at Oscar?” he pressed, his eyes unyielding.
“Lando, we agreed on watching a movie today, not discussing this,” you warned, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth, hoping to drown your emotions under buttery goodness.
“I know! But I spoke to Oscar—”
You cut him off, “No, I don’t want to hear it! I’ll probably just get more upset, and I really don’t want that right now.”
Lando raised his hands in surrender, looking both apologetic and mildly amused. “Okay, okay. No talking about Oscar.”
“Thank you,” you replied, the tension easing a bit. You leaned back, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile. “But since you made me mad, you know what the punishment is.”
Lando’s eyes widened in horror. “No! Not the ‘punishment’!”
You grinned despite yourself, reveling in the playful banter. “Yes! You brought it upon yourself. I hope you brought your dance shoes."
“I did not!” he exclaimed, his face buried in his hands. “Please, anything but that!”
You chuckled. “What’s the matter, Lando? You afraid of a little dancing?”
His gaze peeked through his fingers. “You know I can’t dance! I’ll embarrass myself!”
“Oh, come on,” you teased, leaning closer, the earlier sadness momentarily forgotten. “It’ll be fun!”
“Fine! But I swear if I break a leg...”
“Which you won’t!” You laughed, getting up and putting on an upbeat song.
You opened your arms theatrically, ready to embrace the moment. “Come on! Show me your best moves!”
With a reluctant sigh, Lando stood up, giving you a resigned grin. “Okay, but just to prove to you how awful I am. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
As the music thumped through the apartment, Lando executed the most exaggerated dance moves imaginable—one hand in the air, feet sliding across the wooden floor. You couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably.
“Is this your best?” you challenged, twirling into your own clumsy routine.
“Okay, okay! Here goes nothing!” He leaped into an interpretive dance that was equal parts flailing and sheer comedy, and you collapsed back onto the couch in a fit of giggles.
“Lando, you’re a legend,” you wheezed between breaths.
He finally stopped dancing, slightly out of breath and grinning. “I think I’ll stick to racing, thanks. But, how about you?”
You paused for a moment, your laughter fading. “Honestly? I just don't get why he’d kiss someone else. I thought...”
“Thought what?” Lando pressed gently, his tone shifting to a more serious note.
“I thought he liked me,” you admitted quietly. “I thought maybe there was something between us. But seeing him with someone else, it just hurts. I guess I feel foolish.”
“Hey.” Lando took a step closer and sat beside you. “You’re not foolish. Oscar’s the one who’s a bit of a jerk for messing things up. He should know how amazing you are. You deserve someone who doesn’t make you question their intentions.”
You looked at him, and while his words comforted you, they also tore at a different part of your heart. “You really think so?”
“I know so.” Lando smiled softly at you. “And you’ve got all the time in the world to find the right person. Just don’t let Oscar’s choices define how you see yourself, okay?”
You nodded slowly. “You’re right. I’m just... trying to sort it all out.”
“Well, until you do, I'm here. Movie marathons, dance-offs, and endless supplies of snacks included,” he declared, gesturing to the spread between you as if it were an unbreakable vow.
“Thanks, Lando,” you said, appreciating his unwavering support. “Really.”
As you settled back together to resume the movie, the weight of the world felt just a little lighter. Sure, thoughts of Oscar still lingered, but Lando’s friendship reminded you that you weren’t alone in this.
You had someone who not only understood but also cared enough to make you laugh through the pain.
And for that, you were grateful. . . .
You decided to skip the next races.
"I need to clear my head," you thought, convincing yourself that the distance would help you forget the feelings you harbored for the Australian driver.
Instead, you found yourself engrossed in your studies on campus. Why watch the races on TV when you could be in the paddock?
But here you were, torn between wanting to support your team and an overwhelming need to shield your heart from Oscar.
When Lando skillfully maneuvered his way through the track, you stifled your cheers in classrooms, mouth clamping shut when he crossed the finish line.
"Focus on your studies," you’d remind yourself, but the pride bubbling within you was impossible to contain.
For every overtaking move Oscar pulled off that sparked a rush inside you, you felt the weight of your heart, one that couldn’t help but cheer for a man who had stolen your thoughts.
Before you knew it, the championship was upon you, and McLaren had claimed victory.
In a moment of exhilaration, you snapped a picture of yourself in McLaren merchandise, a radiant smile gracing your face. You shared it on social media with the caption, “I’ll always bleed McLaren orange! #TeamMcLaren."
Within moments, notifications flooded your screen: Lando’s account liked your post and the McLaren admin account liking with a comment that read, “We miss seeing you in the paddock 🧡!”
It was bittersweet, a confirmation that you still held a place with the team—but it brought memories of the paddock flooding back, along with reminders of Oscar.
When the invitation to the team’s Christmas party arrived, it triggered a mix of excitement and dread. Should you go and face him? You hesitated, the idea dawning over you like a storm cloud.
“Just come, please!” Lando’s persistent voice broke through your musings. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. It’s going to be fun, and besides, I’ll be there. You know it won’t be the same without you.”
“Lando,” you pleaded, biting your lip, the thought of Oscar’s lingering gaze causing a swell of anxiety. “What if I see him? I’m not ready.”
“Then be ready! Just wear something orange and channel your inner Papaya spirit. I’ll look out for you,” Lando grinned, his enthusiasm infectious. You finally relented. “Okay! One night—just one!”
On the night of the party, you chose a shimmering orange dress that hugged your figure, giving off a radiant glow that felt gratifying and powerful.
Grabbing your jacket, you inhaled deeply before stepping into the vibrant atmosphere of the venue, where laughter exploded and voices danced around you.
The place was bustling with McLaren energy—feasting, drinks flowing, and music swelling. It felt like a family reunion, everyone cherishing the victory together.
The festive spirit washed over you, and for a moment, you forgot about Oscar.
“Y/N! You actually came!” Lando’s voice cut through the crowd, and you turned to see him beaming at you, his dark hair glistening under the lights.
“Yeah, I had no choice. You would have dragged me out of my house otherwise,” you shot back playfully, matching his grin.
“You know me so well!” Lando laughed, pulling you into a hug.
He stayed by your side for a while, joking and chatting about the race, but eventually excused himself to the bathroom. “Just stay here! I’ll find you!” he called over his shoulder as he weaved through the throngs of partygoers.
Left with the vibrant atmosphere and pulsating music, you pulled out your phone to scroll aimlessly through social media. But time crept on, and you found yourself growing bored, the joyful sounds around you meshing into one indistinguishable noise.
Suddenly, a voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Y/N.”
You looked up, dread pooling in your stomach as you met Oscar’s gaze. He stood a few feet away, an uneasy smile stretching across his face. “Hey.”
“No, no, no,” your mind raced. Not now. You almost turned to flee, but his hand caught your wrist with a gentle grip, stopping you mid-stride.
“Y/N, please.”
His eyes held a mix of sincerity and something else—maybe regret? Despite your instincts screaming at you to pull away, you found yourself halting, torn between running and wanting to melt into the warmth of his presence.
“Can we talk?” he continued, his voice softer now, nearly lost in the clamor of the room.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m happy for you and your girlfriend,” you retorted, trying to maintain the wall you’d built around your heart.
You expected him to let go of your wrist, to back off and accept your words as the final note in this dissonant symphony. Instead, his grip tightened, marshalling a mix of surprise and frustration.
He guided you through the thrumming crowd, out of the main hall and into a smaller, dimly lit room. The sudden calm clashed violently with the noise outside.
Once you were inside, he released your wrist but blocked the door, leaning against it with an expression that was both earnest and somewhat frustrated.
“What are you doing?” you demanded, crossing your arms defensively.
“I want to explain myself to you, but since you’re so stubborn, I have to lock you in a room for you to listen to me.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “There’s no need to explain. I already know—”
“Whatever you’re thinking, you’ve got the wrong idea,” he interrupted, urgency threading his tone.
“Try me,” you challenged, stepping closer. You hated how close he was, how safe, how intoxicating.
“I’m sure you’re thinking about the club,” he rushed, his eyes searching yours. “That girl, whoever she is, came over and just kissed me because I looked like her boyfriend. She apologized and walked off. That’s all that happened. You can ask Lando or the others."
Your heart rate quickened as you took another step closer. “Why are you even telling me? I had nothing to do with it,” you pressed, your voice a mixture of challenge and curiosity.
He swallowed hard, visibly nervous. “Because it matters. You matter. You have to understand that I didn’t want it, that I wasn’t interested.”
You took a breath, the weight of the moment heavy against your chest. “So, if you weren’t interested, then what do you want?
You tilted your head slightly, trying to read the emotions flickering across his face like shadows in the dark. His jaw worked, as though he was searching for the right words.
“I want you to know…” he started but faltered, glancing away for a split second, as if the courage to continue was caught in his throat.
When he looked back, you noticed a flicker of determination igniting in his gaze. “You know I’ve liked you for a while now, right?”
The admission hung in the air, visceral and raw. Your pulse quickened, the world around you fading into a blur.
“Liked me? As in… more than friends?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding earnestly. “I didn’t know how to say it, and then… and then that happened.” He gestured vaguely towards the club, frustration lacing his words.
“I was so caught off guard, and all I could think about was how I didn’t want you to think something was going on—because nothing is. It was just... a mistake.”
A thousand butterflies erupted in your stomach, and the challenge melting from your voice was replaced by something softer, deeper. “It’s hard for me to believe that when you just let it happen. Didn’t you want to push her away? Didn’t you think about me at all?”
He took a step forward, his expression earnest and intense. “Of course, I thought about you! That's exactly why I’m here, explaining all this to you. I thought maybe you’d get the wrong idea, and I didn’t want that. The last thing I want is for you to feel hurt because of something that wasn’t even my fault,”
You could feel the electricity between you, the shared vulnerability tugging at the edges of your heart. “So, what now? Do we just pretend like tonight didn’t happen?”
“No,” Oscar’s voice was clear and firm, cutting through the tension like a knife. “I don’t want to ignore this. I want to figure out what we are… or what we could be.”
He paused, searching your face for reassurance, hope mingling with uncertainty. “Can we…”
“What if I just got jealous?” you interrupted, tilting your head while letting your walls slowly drop. “What if I’m just overreacting because the thought of you with someone else drives me insane?”
His lips curled upwards, a tentative smile forming as the weight of the moment shifted. “Then that’s good, right? It means you care.”
“I do care,” you confessed, the admission flowing out of you like a soft sigh. “I care more than I should. You’ve been… well, hard to read. But I like you, too, Oscar. I have for a while. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”
His relief was palpable, and he stepped a fraction closer, closing the gap between you. “So, what do you say we start fresh? Just you and me. No more mixed signals, no more misunderstandings.”
You held his gaze, the corners of your mouth lifting in a soft smile. “I’d like that. I really would.”
Oscar took a deep breath, as if steadying himself for what came next. “Come here,” you said, raising your arms for a hug. Without hesitation, he stepped into your embrace, his warmth seeping into you like the first rays of sun after a long winter.
He melted into you, resting his chin gently atop your head, and you felt a flutter in your chest, a feeling that said everything would be alright.
After what felt like an eternity, you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. You placed a kiss on his cheek, wishing it to be understood as a promise, a seal to this new beginning.
“You missed,” he joked playfully, breaking the tension and causing both of you to smile.
“Did I?” you teased back, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “I think my aim was just fine.”
Oscar shook his head, laughter escaping his lips. “You must have missed the target completely,” he replied, grinning, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You both stood there, a moment of levity hanging beautifully between you, until Oscar looked up suddenly, as if struck by a realization.
“Hey, it seems like fate gave you another chance,” he said, his voice laced with excitement.
Your brow furrowed in confusion, and you followed his gaze upward. A sprig of mistletoe hung above you, the innocent plant a stark reminder of holiday traditions and the spark of romance it promised. Your heart raced.
“Guess you’re a lucky man, Piastri,” you said, a teasing tone lacing your words. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at him, a playful challenge in your eyes.
He stepped back, his grin widening as he looked at you. “Lucky? How so?”
“Well,” you began, your heart pounding in your chest, “I mean, just look at the circumstances. Here we are, two people who have been dancing around each other forever, and we’re under a mistletoe. You know what that means…”
“What does it mean?” he asked, leaning in, curiosity painting his features as he watched you.
Shifting your gaze back to the mistletoe, you felt bold. “It means we should kiss,” you stated matter-of-factly, suppressing a giggle at how ridiculous the notion felt in the best possible way.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied, stepping closer once more, his sincerity igniting a rush of exhilaration within you.
As he leaned in, your heart raced faster, a million thoughts spinning in your head. Would it be awkward? Would he pull back last minute?
But then his hand found the back of your neck, and it felt like the world around you faded away. Time slowed as his lips finally met yours, tentative at first, then growing fervent, a collision of emotions.
You held onto him tightly, drowning in the moment, feeling everything you've kept bottled up finally surge forth—a mixture of relief, tenderness, and the thrill of shared possibility.
You could taste the sweetness of victory in the kiss, savoring the promise of what was to come.
As you shared a tender kiss, the door creaked open just enough for Lando's head to peek in. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he caught sight of the two of you lost in the moment, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding before him.
Oscar gave a silent thumbs back to Lando, his eyes still closed, fully aware of the carefully orchestrated plan.
This was all part of the scheme they had devised, aptly named "Operation Mistletoe Magic,". . . .
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lovebugism · 17 days ago
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miss bug I have something to ask 🙋‍♀️
i don’t know if you do sickfics but! mayhaps steve and shy!reader where she doesn’t show up for school, steve goes to her house, and she’s utterly mortified because she feels like she’s nowhere near presentable
thank u for requesting!! — king steve pays his lab partner a visit when he hears you're sick, but definitely not because he has a crush on you (shy!reader, friends to lovers | 1.6k)
bug's two year celebration ♡
Steve waits for you that morning with half a bagel and his heart in his throat.
The desks in Ms. Click’s class grow slowly full with bustling bodies — some sluggish like zombies, others too chipper for an early morning. Steve cranes his head in search of your face in the crowd. Yours never shows, which is strange for Hawkins High’s future Valedictorian.
“Where is your partner, Mr. Harrington?” Ms. Click wonders beneath the grating morning bell. She ducks her head to peer across the classroom over her sparkly, cat-eye glasses.
Steve pauses, mid-bite of his sausage-egg-and-cheese. He shrugs wordlessly, with a wad of food jutting his cheek and crumbs sticking to his mouth.
The older woman sighs, too used to King Steve’s antics. She looks past him and asks, “What about you, Miss Buckley? Where’s Carol?”
“Probably under the bleachers with Tommy Hagan,” Robin mutters under her breath, though loud enough for everyone around her to hear, causing them to bite back their subsequent laughter. Steve, himself, nearly chokes on his bagel.
“Well, you’ll just have to pair up with Steven for the day,” Ms. Click tells her.
“Oh, god…” Robin groans in a whisper.
“Get to work.”
Steve spins his chair around to face the girl behind him, who he only really knew because of how highly you spoke of her. Despite your frequent praises, Robin doesn’t even look at him, nor does she bother to make mindless small talk. She just keeps her head down and scribbles notes on a worksheet. 
Steve, in spite of their differing statuses, struggles to find the courage to talk to her.
He slouches and tilts back his chair. “Hey, do you, um—”
“We don’t have to make conversation, alright?” Robin interjects before he can even start. She keeps her head bowed but glares daggers from beneath her lashes. “Let’s just get this hour over with so we never speak to each other again.”
Steve’s eyes widen. “Well, I was— I was just gonna ask where your friend was. ‘Cause I don’t think she’s missed a day since, like, kindergarten.”
Robin’s freckled face flushes. She’d feel worse about being so short with him if he wasn’t such a douchebag. “Oh. Uh, she’s— She’s sick, I think.”
“Sick?”
His chest pinches with an immediate worry. Robin bites back a smirk at King Steve’s palpable concern for arguably the biggest nerd on this side of Hawkins. “Yeah,” she shrugs. “I figured she was just allergic to your hairspray.”
Steve laughs under his breath and turns away. Robin smiles only until he looks back at her, now with a brown paper bag in hand. It was meant to be for you — an even piece of his bagel, ‘cause he knows you don’t get breakfast yourself. He figures you’d rather not want it to go to waste.
“Want my other half?” he offers to the girl across from him, like some kinda olive branch.
Robin’s eyes dart from Steve to the paper sack and back again. It goes against every code in her personal handbook to take anything from Hawkins Royalty, but she shrugs in response anyway. “What the hell. Sure.”
—————
Finding your trailer isn’t hard. He visited there, once, for a project at the beginning of the school year. It’s the house directly across from the Freak’s. Eddie made it a point to play his guitar as loud as he possibly could, knowing The Hair was around to hear it. (Munson would never miss an opportunity to annoy King Steve, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him).
Steve decides to make his entrance through your bedroom window. Dead, unmanicured grass crunches under his sneakers as he rounds your trailer. He rises to the tips of his toes and knocks four times on the high-up window. The old glass feels strangely delicate under his fist.
He waits for an answer for several long moments. When he doesn’t get one, he lifts his hand to knock again. The window squeaks open before he can — and there he finds you, standing above him, holding a half-empty box of tissues in your hand like you plan to hit him with it.
“Whoa—” Steve flinches.
You look equally shocked to see him, fear swimming in your glassy eyes. “Oh, my god—”
“Sorry,” he grimaces with his palms splayed in surrender. “It’s just me.”
“I thought you were a burglar or something…”
“And what? You were gonna take me out with a box of tissues?” His laughter feels like warm honey compared to your splitting, icy migraine.
You take in a heaving breath and swallow hard through a stinging throat. “Sorry,” you sniffle. “Come— Come in.”
As Steve climbs through your window, trying hard not to get caught in the curtains, you become very hyperaware of your living space. It is your childhood bedroom, after all — every phase of your life is stored within these tiny four walls. Posters, trinkets, slightly dated decor. And on top of all that, you’ve been living like a total slob since you got sick over the weekend.
Your bed’s a mess, you’ve got bottled water and tissues piling in the bin, and you haven’t changed out of your pajamas in two days. It’s certainly no way to greet the king of Hawkins High, though he doesn’t quite seem to mind.
“You coulda just knocked on the door, you know?” you mumble, slightly nasally, as you swipe a balled-up tissue under your nose. “I would’ve let you in.”
Steve pants and stands to full height again, finally in your room with little to no struggle (though he’s pretty sure he’s stamped his footprint on your wall). 
“Well, what can I say? I like to make an entrance,” he jokes with a lopsided smile. The rosy expression fades when your glassy eyes glaze over with a faraway look. “…You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just…” you shake your head, which only makes the dizziness worse. “I’m just a little lightheaded. That’s all.”
Steve rushes to your swaying form without thinking. He grasps your arms in two wide, gentle hands. His honey eyes are wide and wild as they dart over your features, sufficiently bleary with whatever bug you’ve caught. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing,” you insist despite the obvious. “Just can’t break this stupid fever.”
“Here. Lay back down.”
He guides you the short distance to your bed, foreignly patient with your sluggish movements. He keeps a hold of you with one hand and reaches for the mussed blankets with the other, pulling them back to ease you beneath them.
“Sorry for bailing on you today,” you apologize in nearly inaudible slurs as the boy props you against the pillows. 
Steve shakes his head with a quiet smile. “You’re sick. It’s okay. Stop apologizing,” he insists and tucks the covers on top of you again. You can smell his aftershave when he leans over you, a striking minty scent that melts nicely with his deeper cologne.
“Sorry,” you repeat before you can help it.
Steve rises again and fights the urge to brush the hair sticking to your clammy cheek. “Have you had any medicine?”
“I had some… cough syrup earlier…” you slur, face half-buried in the pillows.
“What about food?” he asks with his hand on his cocked hip. “Had any of that?”
“‘M too sick for food.”
Steve laughs and fills the gloomy room with sunshine. “You have to eat, babe. So you can get your energy back. That’s, like, science or whatever—”
His eyes widen, only then realizing his use of the nickname. His heart drops to his ass. He hopes he said it so quickly that you missed it. You seem to have, as sick as you are, basically half-asleep before him.
You’d heard it, though. The word alone has your delicate heart beating with a newfound fervor. You can’t tell if it’s killing you or bringing you back to life.
Steve starts rambling before he realizes it. “I can whip you something up, if you want. I make a mean macaroni and cheese— In the microwave, obviously, ‘cause I’m less likely to burn it that way. Did you know that you can actually burn pasta in the microwave? Yeah, I had to learn that one the hard way—”
“Steve?” 
“Yeah?”
“Can you just sit with me?” you sniffle, eyes still shut. “Please?”
He nods rapidly until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Yeah, of— Of course, yeah.”
The boy climbs into your bed with a lot less confidence than he’s used to. This is by no means the first time he’s been in another girl’s bed, but something about this one feels different. This time, he has to keep reminding himself to breathe. This time, his hands are all clammy and tingling with an anxiety he isn’t used to. This time, he feels so utterly unsure in his body that he doesn’t know how he became King Steve in the first place — let alone how he got here, next to you.
What’d an asshole like me do to deserve all this? his mind reels.
Your breath catches when the mattress dips under his weight. He sits over the covers, but still a lot closer than you thought he might, all things considered. You turn slowly onto your back to look at him without going dizzy again.
“You’re not scared you’ll get sick?” you croak, blinking up at him with sleep-swollen eyes.
Steve shrugs with his back propped against the headboard. “Not really. I mean, what’s the worst-case scenario— I get sick and have to be quarantined here with you? That doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
His lips curl into a lopsided smile that makes your chest feel sparkly. You turn away and hide your own grin in the pillow. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,” you quip, half-muffled in the cushion.
“Yeah, I know,” he hums, never once taking his eyes off you. 
He can’t wait to kiss you when you’re better.
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muntitled · 1 year ago
Text
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧
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→ Mingyu x Fem!reader
→ Summary: "If you wanted me to get you pregnant so bad, all you had to was ask."
→ Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Businessman au, Humour, Slight!Body Dysmorphia, Insecurities, Workaholic!Reader, Shy!Reader, Slight Male Manipulation, Slight!Angst, Smut (+18), Semi!Public Sex, Slight Coercion, Needy!Mingyu, He Whimpers, Pervy!Mingyu, Corruption Kink, Desperate Sex, Massive Breeding kink, Mingyu has a choking kink, and a Praise kink, Slight!Daddy Kink, Unprotected Sex
Mingyu likes getting choked, pls argue with the wall
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The dollop of heat in your stomach steadily grew into a pool of molten lava throughout the duration of the award ceremony. The entire televised event was supposed to be in celebration of your husband and the diligence he has extended to the company for all of 2 decades.
Instead, most of the evening is spent nursing your anxiety with a flute of champagne, while you attempt to not sweat through your very expensive makeup under the heat of multiple strobe lights.
Mingyu, sitting at the table beside you serves as your only anchor, keeping your feet planted firmly to the ground while the rest of the table exchange pleasantries involving baby pictures and ultrasounds.
The dread in your stomach only multiplies.
You've been made privy to how they speak about you and your husband behind gloved hands in hushed whispers. A husband who has had to be burdened with a wife whose internal clock was no match for the importance of a career. Perhaps they thought you were too self important and too driven. Perhaps that explains why you were always invited to events out of courtesy and never out of true interest. Perhaps-
"Stop that." Mingyu's voice travels to your ear at a low and conspiratorial baritone while the rest of wives and husband at the table talk animatedly.
"Stop what?" You ask while Mingyu draws your attention to his hand now resting on your thigh underneath the table.
"Don't play with me. I can tell when you're overthinking," He says, letting his palm brush over the sequins of your pitch black dress. It matched his all black suit to rude perfection, truly making you believe you were the best dressed couple in the whole event. "If you're gonna be thinking about something, I'd rather it be the likelihood of me eating you out in this dress after we're done."
His words succeed in dragging your thoughts away from the happy couples and their happy families and you meet his eyes and the amusement swimming within them.
"Is sex really all you think about-"
Mingyu answers your question by suddenly grabbing a hold of your hand and forcing your palm over his lap until your palm is lightly grazing the bulge forming there.
"Let's hope this ends soon so we can get the fuck out of here." The rest of the event was spent with you, staring down at the table in a mindless, lustful daze while Mingyu still guided your palm up and down the bulge in his pants. It was conspicuous enough for it to look like his hand was simply resting atop yours, if anyone really got particularly nosy. Luckily, everyone else was too drunk on overpriced soju to recognize Mingyu's forced self pleasuring while he took casual little sips from his glass intermittently.
You were both relieved once it was time to go home.
This inability to adapt into the upper echelons of housewife society had not bothered you initially and it certainly did not bother your husband. In fact, someone as aloof and optimistic as Mingyu was seldom concerned with the matters of holding face for a backwards capitalistic society.
"If we weren't rich I thoroughly believe we would be those 'eat the rich' people." Mingyu announces as he trails into the bathroom behind you. The overhead lights bathe the bathroom's onyx accents in a dim light, successfully relaxing you and easing the bundle of knots that had built up in your shoulders.
Mingyu seems equally pleased to be back home, kicking off his Abercrombie loafers and watching them fly into a corner while he undoes the buttons of his jet black dress shirt. His tall frame is hunched over as he wraps his arms around your stomach, allowing you to lead him to the bathroom sinks with heavy footsteps like a 187 centimetre baby.
You, of course, do not object when he pushes his head into the space between your neck and shoulder as you begin to brush your teeth. If the award ceremony was as draining for him as it was for you, then this truly is the first moment he is able to let himself go the entire day.
"I think we can still be those 'eat the rich' people because it's not like we're rich by choice, right?" Seeing your husband constantly run the risk of impending communism would be amusing, were it not for the sour taste still present in your mouth from the work event Mingyu had just taken you too.
"At least you got to watch me in my element-" He grumbles against your skin before begrudgingly peeling himself off of you to make his way to his side of the bathroom,
"Ugh," Mingyu groans with exaggeration as he commences with his skin care, "You literally got to watch your sexy and talented husband accept a corporate award in a room full of people. I'm so jealous of you,"
"Ugh, I know!" You nod back, "Jihoon looked so good on that podium. Remind me to send him a message later." You evade Mingyu's deadpan look through the oval shaped mirror as you continue to brush.
"On a serious note, Gyu, I'm glad you had fun while I was being forced to entertain those industry housewives." You momentarily stop your brushing, "I'm thoroughly overwhelmed by ultrasounds!" You exclaim frustratedly through a gurgle of toothpaste. The very thought of those women shot your blood pressure to hell.
Their idealistic lives and their idealistic vaginas that could somehow push out a steady stream of babies before snapping back as if nothing ever happened. Business as usual.
Meanwhile, your body threw a tantrum the very second you even had a vague thought of eating something outside the bounds of your diet.
Mingyu adored every part of you - you know this - but that nauseating feeling of inadequacy always crept up on you in moments of weakness.
You sigh, "I think those women have magical vaginas."
"Hey." Mingyu says, patting down his face, "All women have magical vaginas but you especially."
You swiftly ignore him and continue your furious brushing as you say, "Every single day it's 'This one is pregnant!' 'This one wants to get pregnant,' 'This one is trying to get pregnant!'" You rant, completely oblivious to the way Mingyu watches you through the mirror as you continue.
"'I'm not quite sure when it became socially accessible for couples to just air out their breeding kinks to the public-" an ungentlemanly snort escapes through Mingyu's mouth and he pauses to shake his head and compose himself.
"I'm ultra-sounded out!" You exclaim, finally bending over to spit out a wad of toothpaste. In your periphery, Mingyu watches you with that passive look of contentment and unwavering adoration that almost never seems to leave his face in your presence.
Despite his overly humorous tendencies at times, Mingyu also harboured the habit of reading in between the lines - he had to, not only for his job but for his romantic life as well. Being blessed with a shy partner meant Mingyu had to dig just a little deeper past the veneer of everything you say, to get just a little closer to what you actually meant.
Your shyness and stoicism is what initially drew him to you in the first place. Always beating around the proverbial bush to protect your most sacred dignity and independence. It was always a struggle for Mingyu but it turned him on way too easily to picture his put-together, independent little wife needing him in a way she might not even know.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask quietly, lifting your head before reigning your braids into a ponytail.
"How am I looking at you?" Mingyu asks in a voice way too husky to harbour any sense of professionalism.
"Are you seriously turned on right now?" There is no use in denying it because Mingyu knew you could read him like an open book. There's a soberness that hits him when he's turned on.
He jokes less than usual and assumes a more… slutty disposition that neither him nor you have ever been able to tame. Mingyu rubs the excess cream into his hands before leaning against the marble countertops. He watches you with a small, dangerous smirk that sends a flurry of butterflies swimming the pits of your stomach.
"If you wanted me to get you pregnant so badly, all you had to do was ask." His sentence bulldozes through the silence, steals the air right out of your lungs and nearly sweeps your feet out from underneath you. The world practically spins for a second but you grapple desperately onto your sensibilities for your sensibilities are one of the very few things you can arm yourself against your husband's slutty seduction.
"I think I could've squeezed you into my busy schedule," He chuckles lightly before stepping forward.
Almost automatically you step backwards, which evidently gets Mingyu way too excited. He raises his eyebrows with a slight before he's closing the distance between the two of you with 2 wide strides.
The light pouring down from the ceiling suddenly feels too warm, and the air feels like you've teleported to a crowded bazaar in the centre of the desert. You refuse to make eye contact with Mingyu, looming over you. You only splay a hand against his chest as you attempt to chuckle.
"You're being ridiculous." You say, "If you need to cum so bad, use your hand."
"Nah," He shakes his head without ever breaking eye contact, "That would be a waste, wouldn't it?" Mingyu's eyes frantically search your features for the same traces of lust so shamelessly displayed across his own visage. His lips are parted with his quiet breathing. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."
It felt like a betrayal on everything you held dear, admitting that the idea of him cumming inside you with the purpose of getting you pregnant turned you on. It felt like a betrayal on your career and your goals and aspirations.
However, Mingyu's sensibilities are completely clouded by unshakeable lust. He is so easily stimulated by every single thing about you, the softness of your body, the familiarity of your scent and the mental image of seeing you actually pregnant with his child. It has him pushing you further against the bathroom wall until the coolness of the stone sank steadily through your night dress.
Mingyu's hand immediately rips the offending article of clothing, pushing your night dress up slowly and feeling his own cock ache at how you silently comply.
"It's really easy, baby. I just need you to tell me you want me to cum in that little pussy of yours and I'll do it. Just wanna…" Mingyu's incoherence during states of exceptional lust always succeeded in making you absolutely wet. He became an insatiable, talkative and blubbering mess.
"...Just wanna make you happy," His breathing picks up almost as easily as yours, and inside himself, Mingyu releases a shotgun prayer that you want this just as bad as he does. He hopes your mind has been flooded with the exact same fantasies of him, sliding his bare cock into your soaking cunt. Him ramming into you and finishing inside of you and-
"Ah- fuck," He hisses, unable to get your panties down all the way before he's letting his fingers drift across your slippery folds. "Look at how wet you are, baby. You really do want me to cum inside your pretty little pussy, don't you?"
Mingyu's cock twitches uncomfortably in his pants while he drifts his fingers over your puffy clit, pulling a strangled moan from your throat.
"Feels good, baby?" He whimpers before slotting his hips between your legs. Mingyu's breath is warm against the side of your face as he continues to rub infuriating circles on your clit. "I can make you feel even better baby… if you let me fuck you, I can make us both feel good, yeah?" He's a whining mess - you both are as your hips move in tandem against his hands.
"Fuck, baby I need you to tell me you want this. I need you to tell me I can throw away the condoms, that I can cum inside you-"
"F-Fuck, Daddy," Your slip-up would've gone perfectly unnoticed, were it not for the heavy, almost oppressive silence between the two of you in the bathroom. Mingyu's ears perk up like a puppy that had just heard his favorite word, and he pulls himself away to gaze deeply into your eyes with adoration and awe. Mingyu's pink lips hang open as he scrambles back up to his height. He cups your cheeks with both hands, and you lean into his warm calluses as his thumbs rub gentle circles on your cheek.
The kiss he leaves on your nose is delicate and romantic.
The perfect calm before the proverbial storm.
Mingyu then nods slowly as he says, "Well now I'm definitely going to fuck you," the conviction and the bass in his voice urges a pathetic whimper through your lips and you're left to comply limply as Mingyu places a palm on your exposed thigh. He lifts you up until your leg is locked firmly around his hip and he's almost perfectly slotted between your bare legs. The feeling of having him so close to you, in such a starkly intimate position leaves you both momentarily speechless and you're watching each other as if terrified of breaking this spell of lust.
Mingyu is deliberate in his actions as he moves his hand to pull his cock out of his pants, all without breaking eye contact.
"Don't play with me like this, baby," it's the most serious he has ever been, and your back is almost moulded to the wall as Mingyu lines the tip of his aching cock to your dripping cunt. "I was literally so close to cumming in my pants, so if you're playing with me right now-"
"Mingyu," your voice is airy as you push your hips forward, taking initiative, as you always did, until the head of his cock was prodding your entrance. He shivers greatly before stealing a glance down at his cock entering you so swiftly, before he gazes deep into your eyes once more.
"If you want me…" Mingyu whispers as he fully sheathes his cock inside you, overcome by yet another violent shiver. "Baby, you have me."
The first thrust is nearly cataclysmic and he has to stop himself from cumming on the spot. Seeing him so incredibly turned on, so ready to burst at the seams has your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper and deeper until his gigantic cock was stretching your cunt to what felt like its limits. That second thrust completely drains him of all his composure and soon Mingyu's fucking you relentlessy into the wall as if he both hated you and loved you and did not know which was which.
Your mouth hangs open as you watch him absolutely ravage you. His dark eyes are hooded with lust and he's babbling his incoherent sentences while his long, messy hair brushes over his cheeks. He is absolutely fargone as he thrusts his hips into you, while his other hand is stationed against the wall above you. "Thank you for letting me do this, baby," he damn near whimpers as he pushes himself harder and faster into you, unable to stop the neediness from sinking into his tone. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"
"You're doing so well baby" You whisper, causing his hips to stutter against yours while a pained moan releases itself from your throat.
Your mouth is still hanging open and Mingyu takes the opportunity to dip down and crash his lips onto yours. The kiss is furious and desperate and you realise this is exactly what you love about him. You appreciate how easy it is to please him, how unashamed Mingyu is of displaying his emotions. He is loud and passionate and it drives you absolutely insane.
"Fuck-I'm close," He breathes, as he peppers kisses along your face. His hand squeezes desperately at your breasts as he pants in your ear. "Tell me to cum inside you- pleasepleaseplease,"
You are operating purely on the lust distributed from Mingyu's incessant whining and whimpering until an idea strikes you so vividly you almost wonder why you had not done this before.
In between your feverish panting and Mingyu's ravaging motions, you delve your head into his hair before peeling his face away from you. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion before you slither your hand down to lock your palm around the his throat. Your hand doesn't fully enclose his neck but you succeed in adding pressure, causing the man before you to roll his eyes into the back of his skull in absolutely ecstasy-
"Oh fuck-I'm cumming-" his body spasms before you in a euphoric daze, quickly triggering your own orgasm as you continue to choke him and move your hips in tandem with his cock.
"Fuck, oh fuck!" He swears as he clamps his hand around your thigh as if begging to spread you wider, to push in deeper until he's filling you up completely with his load. It's messy and so wildly intimate, you're both lost in the crevices of your own respective pleasure. How anyone could make someone feel as completed as you two currently feel is so unimaginable, you both struggle to find the words. Mingyu is a panting mess above you while you attempt to ease your runway heart.
It strikes you then that you're perhaps afraid, now that the lust has cleared that the post nut clarity might rid him of his earlier statements.
All you do is watch as he places another kiss on the tip of your nose before easing his cock out of you.
"I'll run out to buy Plan B tomorrow. You don't have to -"
He shushes you almost immediately as he pads over the bathroom sink. Mingyu hums softly as he ruffles through the medicine cabinet until he finds what he's looking for. All you can do is watch as he dumps the entire contents of your birth control pills down the toilet. He never breaks eye contact, only maintaining a wide slightly manic smile.
<3
© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost
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munsonsmixtapes · 25 days ago
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I'm Not That Girl
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Fiyero Tigelaar x shy!fem!reader
summary: you think Fiyero is only flirting you to be nice because you're not the kind of girl he usually goes for, but he's more than eager to set the record straight when confusion arises
This is based on a comment made on this post by @cultish-corner!
Nothing but anxiety courses through you the second you step foot on campus. You don’t know anyone and are nothing but nervous to be in a new place with new people. That’s your worst nightmare, you think, as you walk throughout the campus to the suite you were assigned, you can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at you, but absolutely no one is paying you any mind as you make your way down the hallway, repeatedly looking down at the sheet you’ve received to make sure you have the right room.
This is the first time you’ve ever been away from home for an extended period of time and you hate that you already miss it. But you’re excited for a new adventure. Even though you’re nervous, you’re still looking forward to what your time at Shiz will bring you. You’re looking forward to a change.
You’re so focused on looking at the sheet that you’re not even looking when you bump into something, or rather, someone. The collision causes your things to fall out of your hands and onto the floor, causing the stranger to drop to their knees, picking it all up rather quickly before holding your suitcase and papers out to you, a flirty smile on his pretty face that you only see out of the corner of your eyes because you’re afraid of making eye contact with him. 
“Here,” he says, handing the paper to you, still holding onto your suitcase which confuses you.
“Oh,” you reply. “Thank you.” 
He’s easily the prettiest man you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but be distracted by his striking blue eyes that definitely have a very flirty glint in them. You immediately recognize him as the prince you had seen in the newspaper not too long ago, seeing that he’d transferred here. You know all about his reputation, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to speak to him. In fact, it makes you want to do it even more.
“It’s my pleasure. I am so sorry for my clumsiness,” he apologizes even though it was very obviously you who ran into him. “I guess I was just so distracted by your beauty.” You don’t care if it’s a line, it works, causing your cheeks to heat as you tuck your chin to your chest, not wanting him to see you. 
“My apologies,” he sticks his hand out and takes free one, causing you to finally look up at him and you’re captivated by his pretty, blue eyes. “Fiyero Tiglaar, Winkie Country,” he says as his lips press a soft kiss to the top of your hand. 
“I-I’m y/n,” you introduce yourself, your voice still too soft for your liking. 
“Y/n,” he repeats your name slowly, a flirty tone to it and you just know that he does this with everyone he comes across, but you hope, you pray that this is different. You want him to be flirting with you because he thinks you’re pretty, not because he can. “I think that might be my favorite name of all.” 
“Now, shall we?” He asks, moving to stand beside you, offering you his arm and you loop your own arm through it before he reaches over and grabs hold of your luggage. 
“Where are we going?” You ask, your voice so low that Fiyero is almost unable to hear you. 
“I’m going to walk you to your room,” he says with a bright smile, leading you down the hallway, everyone who’s around whispering as the two of you walk together. It’s no secret that he’s popular, how could he not be with his looks and charm? And seeing him with you, the shy, new girl will definitely stir up some rumors. 
Your room is just down the hall and even though he’s only just met you, Fiyero doesn’t want to leave you. He wants you to invite him inside where the two of you sit on your bed and get to know each other. He wants to know everything about you. He wants to know where you grew up, what your hobbies are, whatever you want to tell him because he likes the sound of your voice.
“We’ll, here we are,” he says, hesitantly removing his arms from yours as you step away before taking your suitcase back from him. “It was a pleasure.” He bows then stands there, almost like he’s waiting for something. 
“Here we are,” you repeat, wondering what it is that he’s wanting. He should at least be halfway down the hall by now.
“Tomorrow, you should sit with me in the dining hall. I’d really enjoy your company,” he smiles and you nod in response. 
“I’d really like that,” you tell him, still nodding, feeling a warmth creep on your cheeks as you do so. You don’t know why you take him so seriously. Guys like him don’t ever give you so much as a second glance let alone a lunch invitation. By tomorrow, Fiyero will forget all about you.
The hallway is quiet and empty when you sneak out of your room. You can’t sleep because of how nervous you are for your first day of classes. Especially since it’s a few months into the year and you’re the only new person. Everyone else has gotten the chance to know each other and you’re new. 
It’s taking everything in you not to pack up your stuff and leave so you don’t have to face anyone tomorrow. You don’t care if it’s dramatic or that you’re overreacting, it’s not like anyone will miss you anyway. You always seem to fade into the background no matter what’s going on and that’s the way you like it. You hate being the center of attention and know that it will distract you from your first day if everyone is staring at you. 
You close the door gently and turn around slowly, letting out a yelp as you see Fiyero leaning against the wall across from you. He’s in his pajamas so you’re led to believe that he can’t sleep either. And he can’t, but not for the same reason as you. He’s just not tired and that’s not uncommon for him. He often has trouble sleeping. But tonight, he’s hoping you’ll keep him company so he doesn’t have to go back to bed alone. 
He pushes off of the wall and steps over to you, moving slowly because he can see that he’s startled you. You take a step forward and he can’t help but stare at you, wondering what you’re also doing up so late. 
“What are you doing up?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both confusion and worry. He wants to reach for you, but he decides against it. If there’s going to be any touching, he wants you to be the one to initiate it. 
“Couldn’t sleep,” you shake your head and he nods in understanding. His face softens and that infectious smile spreads across it. You can’t help but mimic him and that’s definitely something he could get used to seeing more often. 
“Me neither,” he replies then offers his hand out to you. “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” Go somewhere with him? You look this way and that to make sure there’s no one else he could possibly be talking to and he just laughs in response, a little too loudly for your liking. 
You step closer and press the palm of your hand to his lips to muffle his laughs and you both widen your eyes at your boldness. His eyes soften before yours do, more laughs spilling from his mouth as he pulls your hand away, holding it in his. 
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” you whisper to him and his laughs slowly turn into chuckles as he gives your hand a squeeze. 
“You need to relax,” he shakes his head. “And besides, trouble is my middle name.” You roll your eyes at his words and Fiyero really likes being able to more of your personality. “So,” he steps closer to you so that you’re toe to toe. “Are we going or what?” 
You’re not sure why, but you’ve found yourself to be at ease with him. He’s one of the only people who hasn’t had any problem with how shy and soft-spoken you are. He even seems to like it, not minding in the slightest having to get closer to hear what you have to say. In fact, he seems to prefer it.
“Yes,” you nod. “Let’s go.” 
“So you’re just going to blindly follow a man that you barely know to an unknown location where anything could happen to you?” He teases as he pulls you down the hallway and you never thought about it that way, and if it had been anyone else, maybe you would be worried, but not with Fiyero. “Well, y/n, I thought you knew better than that.” 
“And the same goes to you, Tigelaar,” you retort. “I could just as easily be as dangerous.”
“Somehow, I just don’t think that’s true. You’re far too sweet.” You hate that he’s right. It wouldn’t even cross your mind to hurt someone unless they made the first move. 
“You don’t even know me.” And he hates that he doesn’t. He hopes that in the coming weeks that you’ll be friends or maybe even more, but he knows the latter is probably just wishful thinking. 
“And that’s exactly why I invited you to join me tonight. I want to get to know you. It’s also the reason why I invited you to eat with me in the dining hall.” You’re confused now. You thought he was just trying to be nice. And now you feel terrible for even thinking that he wasn’t being genuine.
“You were serious about that?” Fiyero is quick to turn around to face you, hurt flashing across his face. And seeing the pain expression on yours is making him feel even worse. He thought that his intentions were pretty clear, but apparently he had been wrong. 
“O-of course I was serious. Why would I joke about that?” He’s leaning closer to you, taking your hands in his gently as he pulls you closer, wanting you to look him in the eyes when he speaks. “I invited you because I want to spend time with you, to get to know you. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different,” he says as he pushes some hair away from your face. 
“I know it sounds silly since we’ve only just met, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since this morning.” The look in his eye is nothing but genuine and now you feel silly for thinking that he was anything but. 
“I thought it was just me,” you reply, your eyes lighting up. 
“No,” he shakes his head, leaning even closer to you as his hands move to rest in your hips, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort or hesitance. “Can I try something?” He asks in a whisper, his eyes shifting your lips and you think you know what he wants to try. 
“Yes,” you reply as your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath fanning your face as he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck as he pulls you closer to him, responding to his kiss as your lips slot between his, moving with them as best as you can. 
Fiyero pulls away before you’re ready and pulls you a few feet before spinning you into him, pressing another kiss to your lips. He then takes you to the gardens where you spend the rest of the night, talking about everything and nothing between sweet kisses until the sun comes up. You think it’s needless to say that you’re really going to like it at Shiz.
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docdudo · 1 month ago
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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 11)
Their background is clear to you—always has been since your social worker told you about them in her car on the way here.
They’re military men. Most of their long lives have been spent in the field. She even mentioned that their first children grew up on base when they were little.
Which sounded cool, you thought. It was so different from the office jobs other foster parents had. A bonus, even—it made you feel safe in their house.
They were bigger than most. If not by height, then by width. They were large. Buff. Even the damn harpy, who was supposed to be lean, had broad shoulders and lots of muscles.
So you felt safe. That was a big bonus. Better than that weird suburban house you stayed in, where the mother often avoided the creepy neighbor who looked predatory. You remember his strange glances and how nervous the mother was when he came knocking one night while her husband was away.
How nervous you were as you watched their interaction a few feet away.
So, you’ve always had a big thing about safety, thanks to the weird places you have stayed.
And they felt so safe. It was comforting, really. After the initial phase of settling into a foster home—when you flinched away from everyone until you got to know them better—you started to relax.
(Unless they were the angry type. Or worse, the type to lay their hands on you.)
So, when Price sat you on his lap, checking your temperature again and combing your hair with his hand and sharp claws, you felt... calm. Eh, not totally, you admit. You still tensed a little when his hand came near your face and stayed quiet because of your shyness.
But it was progress, and you really, really wanted to feel at peace with them.
When night came, after they gave you more medicine, warm tea, and another serving of John's bean and bacon soup, they decided to put you to bed early.
Which... was fine. You were actually very tired. Sickness does that to you.
Price carried you, lifting you easily from the dining room chair with the booster seat they’d gotten from somewhere. He placed you down carefully in the big nest full of heavy blankets and pillows, the others following behind at their own pace.
Being there gave you a chance to watch more of their routine.
Ghost was the last to enter. You could hear him rattling things downstairs and turning off lights as he came. His low voice confirmed that all windows and doors were locked.
Gaz was already in the room, sitting at the nest’s edge as he combed through his wing with a special tool, a weird looking comb thing. Johnny worked on the other wing with a concentration you didn’t know he could manage. Both of them were close to you, their legs nearly bumping your small form in the giant nest.
Price moved calmly around the room, putting things away and finishing his hygiene routine in the attached bathroom.
"Feeling better?" Gaz cooed softly, his leg—talons, talons, such sharp talons—bumping near you to get your attention.
"Y-yeah, better..." you answered quietly, nodding for emphasis.
"Good." He crooned, satisfied, especially when Soap purred right after.
(Is it really a purr if he’s a werewolf?)
"Good pup, such a good pup. Really brave, huh? Dinae complain even once. So strong..." Soap murmured, leaning over Gaz, who relaxed back against him.
"It's just a small fever..." you mumbled, frowning a bit at his exaggeration. You were shy. "It’s nothing..."
"Not nothin’, kid." Simon grumbled, finally climbing into the nest after discarding his mask and gloves. He lay beside you, checking your forehead again. "Sick is sick. A flu is a flu. Still makes you feel like shit."
"Simon..." Price scolded as he emerged from the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "Didn’t hear the hatchling say one bad word ’til now. Don’t influence her."
"To be fair, we barely heard her speak at all until now." Kyle retorted sassily, smiling at Price before glancing down at you. "Small, quiet fledgling."
"Nah, she’ll warm up to us!" Johnny declared confidently, shaking his head. "Right, pup? Wanna play with Papa tomorrow? We can play anything ya want!"
"Tone it down, mutt. It’s snowin’ outside," Ghost grumbled, already wrapping your small body in one of the blankets.
"We can play inside. We’ve got the space," Soap said smugly, finishing Kyle’s wing before slipping into the nest on your other side. "We can play, pup. Promise I’ll be gentle!"
You tensed a little, unsure. Your expression showed your doubt with your little frown. After a few seconds of silence, you managed to murmur.
"....o-okay... I guess..."
"See? Who said peer pressure doesn’t work?" Ghost deadpanned, making Price snort with laughter, faint wisps of smoke escaping his nose.
"You don't have to if you don't want to, hatchling. Soap will understand." Price says with a quiet laugh, approaching the nest as he adjusts some kind of shoulder weight attached over his sleeping shirt where his missing wing used to be.
You stare at him for a moment, frowning slightly in confusion.
"...Soap...?"
Your question seems to stun them for a moment before they all start laughing softly, like it’s some kind of inside joke.
"Tha’ would be me, lassie." Johnny replies with a big smile, flashing all his sharp teeth as he leans closer. "Just a codename. Military, aye?"
"Nickname...?" you mumble, still confused.
"Close, hun. Codename." Gaz explains with a gentle laugh, sliding into the nest now, his wings resting against Soap and Price’s backs.
"It’s like a nickname, but it’s used for secrecy. So bad people don’t know our real names." Ghost adds calmly, his heavy hand giving your back a slight pat.
That makes you scrunch your nose slightly.
"Why Soap...?"
Once again, the others laugh at your question, except Johnny, who just sighs quietly, though his smile remains.
"Doesn’t matter why." The werewolf says with a shrug, still grinning as he gestures at Simon. "This bastard is called ‘Ghost’ in the field, Kyle is ‘Gaz,’ and John just uses his last name, ‘Price.’"
You nod quietly, blinking as you process the information. It’s kinda weird, but it makes sense for their lifestyle. Military men for most of their lives, huh? That actually makes you wonder...
"...Are your kids also military...?" you ask softly, hugging your knees over the thick blanket.
"Thank fucking god, no," Price answers quickly, sounding both relieved and horrified at the thought.
"I thought we weren’t doing bad words?" Ghost asks slowly, his tone sarcastic as he sends Price a bored look.
"Oh, shut it." Price growls softly back, leaning closer to him with a sharp smile.
"But no, none of them are in the military." Kyle chimes in, smiling slightly. "Doesn’t mean they didn’t think about following our footsteps at some point, though."
"Wee lads and lassies always thought the military was cool, wanted to be like their papas." Soap says dreamily, though his smile falters slightly to a more nervous smile. "We would never let them, though."
"Why?" you ask innocently, tilting your head in confusion. "You didn’t like the military?"
"No, no, not that! Ah love the military, wee lass!" Soap defends quickly, waving his hands around. "Can’t imagine doin’ anything else with my life!"
"But no parent wants their kids in such a dangerous job," Price interjects, shaking his head as he mutters under his breath. "Honestly, if I had my way, they’d still be here in the nest with me."
"Ignore ’im. Dragon instincts get the best of ’im sometimes." Ghost mutters, shaking his head before gently nudging you down into the nest. "Come on, kid. We can talk tomorrow. It’s sleep time."
You’re still curious, but you nod, laying back against the nest. Johnny immediately curls around you, his giant body wrapping you up entirely. You even feel his tail loop around your legs. You tense for a moment at the closeness, but soon relax, rolling slightly to burrow your face into the blanket. His much larger body shields you completely.
"Night, kid." Ghost grunts as he settles, his hand resting on top of your wrapped form.
"Sweet dreams, hun." Gaz murmurs softly.
"Sleep well." Price adds last, leaning down slightly as the others settle into their spots in the nest. "Call us if you need anything, alright?"
"Gonna be monitorin’ her. It’s fine..." Johnny mumbles, still draped protectively over you. "Good night, lassie."
You fall asleep as the lights turn off and the others cuddle into the nest. Despite the heavy snowstorm outside, you feel incredibly warm.
Safe.
Part 10 / Part 12
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seasprincess · 20 days ago
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nerd!rafe x popular!reader
mdni
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warnings: smut-handjob, pathetic sub!rafe, this is not cannon Rafe AT ALL
Rafe Cameron is a quiet nerdy boy with about no friends. Where as you, you’re loud and popular, friends with everyone.
Ever since you had joined the school Rafe’s eyes have been on you. Watching you laugh and smile with the people that flocked to you like moths to a flame.
He couldn’t help admire you in a way. But mainly he was admiring your beauty.
He has never spoken to you of course. God no he wouldn’t dream of it. Well that’s not entirely true.
He’s dreamt of it, thought of it, imagined it while his hand was around his length. But not in a perv way of course. No no. Not in the way the other boys do it. In a sweet way. Right?
But no, he couldn’t talk to you. In the world of high school. Rafe isn’t allowed to talk to you. He’s too ‘low’ for you. Which he thinks is stupid but he can’t rewrite the social laws of the school.
So he’ll just sit in class staring at you instead of doing his work. Not like he needs to do more work in class. He’s smart enough to pass a test with just a glance. So here he’ll sit waiting for his chance to talk to you properly. Instead of that couple times you were sweet to him, sticking up for him and that one time he said thank you for you holding open the door. And god did that thought make his heart beat.
But soon enough, here’s his lucky day.
“Rafe, you’ll be working with y/n.” The teachers words ring in his head as his eyes are pulled up from the desk. He turns to face you and sees that you’re looking at him. And he c-wait-you’re looking at him.
He does a double take before seeing you wave at him. A small gesture that means so much to him you don’t even know. So he does a wave back. But he’s shy and awkward so now he’s stressing that he looked weird and seeing your friends giggling and whispering doesn’t help the feeling he’s embarrassed himself.
So quickly he turns away, back to the page on his desk. Drawing random lines on it to make it appear he’s doing something. Doing anything other than looking at you and gawking.
Why does he have to be so shy and embarrassing? Why can’t he be like the popular people like Bryce and Zach? They can just talk to everyone and just be confident all the time. He hates himself for his anxiety that is in the bottom of his stomach everytime anyone even breathes to close to him. He hates it so much th-
“Hey partner.” Rafe’s brought out of his spiral of thoughts when you speak to him. He’s frozen looking up at you, is this real? Or is he dreaming?
“H-hey.” He says, pushing up his glasses on his face as he adjust in his chair.
“So when we doing this project?”
“Anytime. Anytime that’s good for you, I’m free. Like all the time. I’m not doing…anything.” Rafe decides to stop himself from babbling and making himself look like a complete and utter loser.
But all you’re doing is smiling at him. Not pulling the disgusted face he’s use to.
“Tomorrow night? My place?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Cool, don’t have snap so I can send you the info?” You say as you pull out your phone. Waiting for him to respond to you.
Rafe rubs the back of his neck as he thinks how to reply to this. He couldn’t say that his mom doesn’t allow him to have social media and even if he was to have it he wouldn’t have enough friends anyway.
“No. I don’t use snap anymore.” He lies.
“Oh right okay. Insta? Tiktok?”
Rafe just shakes his head.
“I can give you my number?”
“Yeah sure okay.”
Rafe gets out his phone, a tiny phone that was probably made eight years ago that his mom told him was ‘cool and trendy’. She’s so wrong it almost hurts.
Rafe had been waiting and waiting for this day. Yes the plans were arranged yesterday but he’s just so excited it’s almost sad really.
But after making his way to your house and you giving him a tour of the mansion you live in. You’re now both sat on your bed.
He’s in your room.
On your bed.
“No you’ll have to tutor me.” You say as you smile before looking back at the work that’s in front of you. You’re laying on the bed as Rafe is sat stiff.
“Tutor you?” Rafe asks, adjusting his glasses again for the second time this minute.
“Well we’re doing this project and I don’t get what it’s about so you’ll have to help me.”
Earlier when Rafe started talking about the project he had presumed that he’d been doing it all himself like he’d usually do with other people. But you insisted you’d actually help. Even if you have been distracted a couple times.
“Yeah sure.” Rafe replies as he smiles, looking down at you. He’s rather close to you it’s making his heart beat so fast. If it beats any faster it’ll pop out his chest like in those cartoons. His eyes might also pop out his head too. We’re just waiting for that.
God he’s so close to you he can smell that perfume you wear every day to school. It hasn’t changed since the first time he met you.
He’s just watching you lay on your stomach on the bed, writing down some things. He just can’t seem to pull his eyes away from you. You just look so beautiful and calm. Of course he has to go and ruin it.
He’s just staring, and before he thinks he leans in and kisses you. His soft lips pressing against yours until he realises what’s happened and pulls back.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He says as he starts panicking. Of course he’s ruining things like he always does. He may be smart when it comes to academics but he’s so stupid when it comes to social situations.
But all you do is smile. Just smile at him before pushing up and climbing onto his lap.
“Oh, oh. Okay…” He says as he holds his breath and looks anywhere but you. His hands don’t touch you. Just in the air, frozen in place by this very unexpected action from you.
So you place his hands on yours hips looking at him before your hands are placed on his cheeks. Gently rubbing them as you look down at him.
“You have a crush on me Rafe?”
Rafe nods as he stares into your eyes. He’s too shy to say anything, and also incredibly aroused by having you here. On his lap. His hand sneaks as he brings it close to his face to adjust his glasses. He look looks up at you like a puppy.
He’s so cute and shy it makes him all the more attractive to you. Some people think he’s all these things but unknown to him you’ve always had some feelings for him. Even if you did try and stop them.
Your hand travels downs Rafe’s body until it reaches his zipper. His dick twitching in his pants as he lets out a low whine. He’s so pathetic it’s so hot to you.
“You want me to touch you Rafe?”
This has escalated very quickly, and as scary it is to Rafe. It’s very exciting for Rafe too. He’s never even held hands with a girl. Or spoken to one for longer than thirty minutes. Twenty minutes. Ten minutes at best.
“Yes please.” He whines out as he wriggles lightly underneath you, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He has thought about thus situation before but this is not how he was expecting at all.
You smile as you start to kiss him, lips pressing softly against Rafe’s. His lips are soft, different to what you’ve kissed before. Your tongue slips into his mouth which is met by more whines from the boy underneath you.
Your hand slips into Rafe’s pants and before he can say a word you start to stroke him. His dick hard and leaking with precum. He feels slightly embarrassed but that’s quickly stopped as you begin to go faster. And all he can think about is how good it feels and how much better it is than his own hand.
The moans and whimper from this man is heavenly. Making those panties you chose to wear just for him wet.
“Please, please can I cum?” Rafe is begging for this. Begging for this release from you. His whole body is practically shaking. He knows he’s acting needy and pathetic. But he can’t help it. He’s practically brainwashed by you.
He’s a man who could genuinely have any job he’s ever wanted but here he is whining for you. Whinging and moaning and begging. A possible future president is begging to cum.
“Yeah baby. Cum for me.”
You will definitely be doing this again.
a/n: don’t know how to feel about this one and i am still upset over bae’s eyebrows.
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paperultra · 1 year ago
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hammock.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive
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“You’re blushing.”
“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”
You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.
“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.
His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”
“Not even if you hated me?”
“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”
(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)
Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.
Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”
He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”
“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”
The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.
“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”
The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.
You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.
“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”
“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”
“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”
“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”
He visibly droops. “I know.”
“Good.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”
The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.
You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.
“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”
“Is that what you really want to do?”
“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)
“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.
With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.
“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”
“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”
Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."
“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”
“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”
The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.
“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”
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jakeswifez · 4 months ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 - 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞
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EMPARELHAMENTO : enhypen!hyung line x fem!reader GÊNEROS : angst, smut, fluff
AVISOS : fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex (don't do this, do it safely), nipple play, cum inside, public sex, arguing, swearing, mention of cheating, fighting, brief description of a physical fight.
SYNOPSIS: y/n arrives at her new school, catching the attention of all the students, including the most popular ones whose names are sim jake, park sunghoon, park jay and lee heeseung, even with the different air at school, y/n didn't care much, what would happen to our poor girl after all?
masterlist / próximo...
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I had just entered my new school, as I walk towards my locker everyone is looking at me, why are they looking at me? I'm not a famous person..The moment I open my locker I feel my back burning, the moment I look back I see 7 boys looking at me, before I ask something a girl catches my attention from beside me.
' hello!! you must be the new girl everyone is talking about, nice to meet you, my name is danielle' She speaks enthusiastically, by her appearance she is kind, her air conveys comfort.
'Hello, nice to meet you Danielle, my name is y/n, and yes, I'm the new girl' I say with a little discomfort because those same boys were looking directly at me.
'You look uncomfortable, is everything okay?' She looks behind me and sees the boys looking at me, then her face immediately falls. 'Come with me, I'll introduce you to my friends.'
'Of course' I finish putting away my materials and follow her, as I walk I feel my back burning, I look back and see them still looking at me, why are they looking at me so much?
'Y/N, these are Hanni, Minji, Haerin, and Hyein, and girls, this is y/n, the new girl.' They all give me a gentle smile and greet me.
'Nice to meet you' I say with a shy smile on my face, and no I'm not an introvert or an extrovert, I consider myself an ambivert, sometimes I'm very shy, and other times I'm very extroverted so you can't understand
'nice to meet you too y/n' haerin says with a smile on her face, hanni looks at me with a sparkle in her eyes
'I loved your hair!! That fringe suits you so much' at the same time I thank her, getting a little shy
'What class are you in?' Minji asks me looking at the class schedules
"Hmm, well now I have science class" they say it's the same room as theirs, we walk to the room and enter, while the teacher waits we stay talking, but suddenly I hear a noise coming from outside
'What's that noise?' I ask looking at the door, at that moment a girl enters with a boy behind her sitting a few rows in front, I realize that this boy was the same one from the hallway, he looks at me and then quickly hides it
'It's just Jake and his girlfriend Yeji, she doesn't care much about them, they think they're all that popular' Haerin says rolling her eyes, I don't think she likes them very much.
'Jake is unbearable, just because he's the football leader he thinks he's the best, not to mention he's filthy rich, the money went to his head' she says looking directly at me
'Wow, but looking at him from here he seems like he's super nice.' Honestly he has that nerdy face, and he's a good kid, but I think I'm wrong.
'It's just his face, his whole group is like that' minji says looking at him
Before I can say anything, the teacher arrives, greets everyone and starts the class. I think I'll have to wait until break time to ask about his group.
....
Class ends and we go straight to the cafeteria and sit at the table.
'Aaah, finally, I can't stand Teacher Kim talking anymore' Hyein complains in a sly voice, I give her a soft laugh, she is so adorable.
Suddenly I look behind Hyein and see those 7 boys walking to a table in the back, I take the opportunity to ask Haerin about them
'Haerin, who are those 7 boys in the back?' She looks back and frowns.
'Ah, those over there? Those are Heeseung, Sunghoon, Jay, Jake, Sunoo, Jungwon and Niki, better known as Enhypen, the popular group at school. They are filthy rich and unbearable.' She says with disgust in her voice.
'They are so..different' I say with curiosity in my voice
'Be careful y/n, no one lasts next to them' I look at her with curiosity in my eyes
'You're curious, right? Well, two years ago they had a girl next to them, her name was Chloe, but she died 3 months later, mysteriously.' I'm startled by her comment, the girls around me agree, telling me to be careful, and I definitely will... I think.
I look at them again and see one of them watching me, his gaze is intense and he doesn't look away in any way, he notices that I'm looking and looks away with a corner of his mouth.
the bell rings informing that the break is over, the girls and I separate and go to our lockers, the hallway is strangely empty, but I don't care much, I open my locker and grab my books, I close my locker and get scared by the boy behind her
'What a scare..' I realize that he is the same boy who was looking at me in the cafeteria
'Sorry for scaring you, I just wanted to meet you, nice to meet you, my name is Jaeyun, better known as Jake' he says with a shy smile on his face, and I confess that the smile is his charm
'nice to meet you jake, my name is y/n' I say with a comfortable smile on my face, he smiles back
'So y/n, since we know each other now I'm inviting you to my and my friends' party, would you like to go?' he says handing me a black invitation with silver font.
I'm a little surprised that he's inviting me so suddenly, of course I've been invited to parties many times, but not on my first day of school.
'Oh, sure, I will go, thank you for the invitation sim' I say thanking you with the invitation in my hands. The details are beautiful and quite delicate for a party.
'You're welcome, I'll see you there' he says with a wink, leaving me confused...doesn't he have a girlfriend? If not...who was that girl next to him in the class?
I head towards my dorm, getting lost easily because the university is very big, I see a shadow to my left and I get a little scared
'Do you need help, pretty girl?' I get scared and look to the side, seeing a tall and very pale boy next to me.
'hm, yes, I would like to know where the dormitories are' he smiles slightly showing his small fangs, leaving me scared, this was normal right?
'just go straight and turn left, you will see a staircase to go up then just follow it to your dorm number' he says signaling with his hand
'Thank you, could I know your name?' I say curiously
'park sunghoon' he says and turns his back walking away
how arrogant but kind at the same time, their group is weird...
'y/n dear, where have you been? I've been looking for you for hours' haerin says placing her hands on my shoulders.
'I...' I say, still shocked by what happened, Haerin notices this
'y/n, are you okay? What happened?' she says, taking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
'nothing much' I say in a low voice
'hmm, ok' haerin didn't really believe it, but he let it go 'some of the boys gave you an invitation? to enhypen's party? because it's tonight'
'the party is today??? my God I'm so lost' I ran my hand through my hair fixing my bangs
'Yes!! Come on, we're from the same dorm, let's get ready for the party!!' She leads the way all happy, I think Haerin is excited for the party
I arrive and go straight to the shower, Haerin says she had already taken a shower before looking for me so I was the only one left.
as I dry my hair I feel a little uncomfortable thinking about the party, why am I feeling like this, nothing bad is going to happen there ..
'y/nnnn, are you done yet?? I found the perfect outfit for you!!' I hear Haerin speaking through the door, and I immediately go to the room, I see her holding a black satin dress with thin straps and a neckline on the left leg
'Do I have to wear this? Won't it be too tight on my body? ' It's not that I'm insecure about my body, I just think it's a bit much.
'Yes, and that's the purpose!! It will highlight your curves, I envy you for that, you know' she puts the dress in my arms and goes to the bathroom, I guess I have no choice..
Haerin and I hitch a ride with Minji, arriving at the big party full of lights and the smell of alcohol, I'm already used to it, I look around and there are all kinds of people, making out, drunk, drugged and others...
'Let's get something to drink!!' Haerin pulls me to the bar next door and gets me a red cup.
'are these drinks drugged' at the parties I went to, the drinks always had some kind of drug to loosen people up so I never drank
'no, it's just alcohol, jay doesn't allow drugs in drinks without the person's consent'
'Let's go to the dance floor y/n, let's enjoy it while people aren't sweaty!!' Haerin pulls me to the center of the dance floor and starts dancing, we have a lot of fun, but as time goes by I get dizzy, so I stop for a bit and go to the counter to get some water to get rid of some of the alcohol, I hear a light laugh next to me and see a familiar man, he had black hair and a marked jaw.
'I didn't expect to see you here, dear' I'm confused by the nickname that comes out of your lips
'Oh, how rude of me' he says with a slight nasal laugh, 'My name is Park Jay, better known as Jay dear'
'nice to meet you, my name is y/n' I say with a slight friendly smile
'i know who you are honey, jake told me about you' jake?? why would jake talk about me? i've never spoken to him properly, before i can speak he says goodbye
'I think it's my time to go dear, I'll see you around y/n' he says leaving a small kiss on my cheeks, I'm a little shocked by his approach . After some time I head towards the bathroom which is upstairs, before I can turn into the next hallway something pulls me to the corner, I feel a light breath on my neck after that
Where does the sweet little girl think she's going? You smell so good' I realize it was Jake who had pulled me, he starts planting kisses on my collarbone going towards my shoulder, I let out a little sigh after that, I want to pull away but I can't, something about him calls to me
'You look so beautiful in that dress, huh?' He runs his hand over my thighs, going under my dress.
'Jake... why are you doing this?' I whisper in his ear, putting my arms on his shoulders.
'Because your body calls to me sweet little girl' he runs his fingers over my clothed core making me shiver 'Fuck, you're so wet sweet girl, I'm going to fuck you so good' he pulls my panties aside and sticks a finger in my wet hole
' jake.. you don't date? ah' I gasp as he speeds up his fingers in an animalistic rhythm, he plants kisses on my neck
'shiii, I'll sort this out later, right now it's just you and me, okay?' He sucks my neck while focusing on accelerating his fingers inside me, I don't know how, but I've never felt like this.
'fuck, I won't be able to control myself, sorry honey..' I get a little confused, suddenly I feel a pain in my neck, but because of the pleasure the pain disappeared, leaving only the pleasure
'Just as I thought, you taste so sweet darling' he says giving me open mouth kisses on my lips, he kisses me passionately, I feel a metallic taste on his tongue but I leave it aside.
'Jake!! I'm cumming!!' I say between moans, after hearing my comment he speeds up the pace making me cum right there, he takes his fingers out and takes them directly to his mouth, he licks his fingers looking at me deeply, making me get excited again
'You taste so good, sweet girl, I'm going to be addicted to you,' he puts his hand on my waist pulling me closer, 'You're mine from now on, do you hear me?' I don't say anything, just nod lightly with the head
'I have to go, see you tomorrow at school? ' he says, giving me a kiss on the forehead
'Of course' I say as I say goodbye to him, and return to the party to meet Haerin.
'y/n! why do you always disappear like that?' I decide not to tell Haerin anything about what happened
'Sorry, I had a slight problem with my dress but it's okay' I say smiling at her, I feel a little bad, I didn't want to lie to Haerin, but it's better this way
Haerin and I are dancing, Haerin is moving away a little, but I don't care, I keep dancing the same way, I swing my hips from side to side, until I feel a pair of hands on my waist
'Hello dear, it's good to see you again' Sunghoon whispers in my ear, hugging my waist tightly.
'sunghoon...' I whisper his name lightly for only him to hear, he brings our bodies closer making me rub against him
'You dance so well darling, keep dancing' he plants a kiss below my ear, I continue dancing making myself feel his bulge in his pants, I hear a light sigh from his lips
'fuck y/n.. I'm getting hard because of you' he says pressing his bulge into my buttocks, making me sigh
'fuck, I don't want to cum in my pants, come with me' he pulls my hands going towards the second floor, he opens a room with dark blue walls, I believe it is his room
He pulls me by the waist, and immediately seals our lips, deepening them in a messy kiss, our teeth clash for a moment but then our lips fit perfectly, he lays me down lightly on his bed, still kissing me, his lips make me drunk, no one has ever kissed me like that
He separates our lips and looks at me, 'You're going to make me go crazy, darling' He takes off his shirt, making me observe his sculpted abdomen, his broad shoulders, and his extremely white skin, making me plant kisses on his collarbone
'y/n...' he lightly moans my name as he looks at me, he lightly pulls my dress up and observes my naked body with lust in his eyes
'You're so beautiful..' He leans forward kissing me again, he slides his hand from my waist going straight to my wet core, he lightly circles my clit making me gasp his name.
'Do you like that, honey? Hm..do you like how I play with your little clit?' I nod at him, moaning his name, but suddenly I feel two fingers in my hole at once
He speeds up his fingers inside me, making me dizzy with pleasure, until he stops.
'Why did you stop?' I ask confused as I look into his eyes, it looks like he's angry, he takes my cheese and turns to the side making me show the side of my neck
'What the fuck, who did this to you?!' he says in a furious tone, making me feel scared.
'What...what do you mean?' I put my fingers on the part of my neck he was looking at, feeling two holes in it, I jump slightly at the pain I felt, how? I don't remember falling or anything, wait...
'jake....' I whisper jake's name, looking at sunghoon in surprise, the moment he heard jake's name his eyes darkened
'Jake? Has that son of a bitch bitten you yet?!!' He says with anger in his eyes, scaring me. When he realizes he's scaring me, he runs his hand through my hair.
'I'll be right back, dear' he gets up and puts his dress shirt back on, leaving the room leaving me there alone, what was he going to do?
'Oh my god' I quickly put on my dress and run back to the party, I hear screaming in the pool area, getting there, i see sunghoon yelling at jake going after him
'You can't contain yourself Jake, fuck, why are you like this?' Sunghoon yells at Jake, everyone around him is confused by what is happening.
'What's up man, I didn't do anything!!' Jake is furious with Sunghoon's senseless revolt
'don't play innocent jake, i saw her neck, damn it couldn't we wait a little longer? we talked about this!' jake finally connects the dots, y/n..
'Have you been with her yet? She's my fucking sunghoon'
'No, she's not yours. Aren't you dating Yeji? Did you have the courage to cheat on her?' Everyone is shocked by Sunghoon's revelation. Yeji goes towards Jake and tries to slap Jake's face, but he should have
'you idiot!!' she tries to slap him again but fails
Jake turns to Yeji and gives an ironic smile, 'What hypocrisy Yeji, aren't you the one who keeps having sex with Yeonjun in the school bathroom,' everyone around him sighs again, Yeji quickly runs away from there
'And you, Sunghoon, stay away from her!' Jake says, walking past Sunghoon. Sunghoon looks at Jake's back and shouts, 'Let's see, I won't stay away from her for long.' Jake gets angry, but walks towards you. He sees your shocked expression and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the garage.
he pulls me towards his car, and pins me to his door 'fuck what did i tell you!! you're my fuckin' he pulls my face towards him and kisses me fiercely
'Let's get out of here, get ready, because there won't be the same Jake as before' he opens the car door and puts me in the front seat
On the way to Jake's house, I tried to talk to him about why he was acting that way.
'Why did you act that way, we don't even know each other properly!' I said, looking at him intently.
'but jake--' as soon as i tried to talk to him he stops the car immediately and holds my chin and looks intently at me
'You're mine y/n, you've been mine since you stepped foot in that damn school, do you understand me?' He lays his head on my neck and gives a light kiss below my ear.
'You like this, don't you? Acting innocent when you're not a sweet girl' he said, running his hand up my thigh.
He runs his hand over my panties and runs his fingers up and down making me gasp, I hear a nasal laugh coming out of him
'My sweet little girl is already excited? I'm going to ease this tension until we get home huh?' He settles in his seat, and pushes my panties to the side already finding my clit, he starts the car and continues on his way
'fuck you're so wet sweet little girl' he thrusts a finger into my core making me moan loudly beside him, he picks up the pace as I grip his bicep
'you're squeezing me so tight, you're close aren't you? cum for me sweet little girl' he adds two more fingers as he speeds up the pace making me clench my thighs around his hand
'jake!! im- im cumming' I cum around his fingers lowering my head, as soon as I look at him I see him taking his fingers to his mouth licking them
'you taste so good sweet little girl'
.....
As soon as we get to his house, he pulls me inside quickly throwing me against the wall
'I don't want to see you near Sunghoon, do you understand me?' he says leaving marks on my neck
'yes...' I say between sighs
'I'll make sure you understand me' he throws me against the kitchen counter and quickly takes off my dress leaving me only in my panties
'no? hun, what do I do with you huh?' he slaps my ass making me moan
'jake..' I feel him taking off my panties, running his fingers up and down my folds
'You're going to take everything I give, do you understand? Sweet little girl' he takes his cock out and positions himself at my entrance. Without warning, he puts it all in me, without letting me get used to his size.
'JAKE!! to-o big...' I say between moans, he increases his pace leaving me dumb for his cock
'big huh? don't worry little girl, you'll accept me willingly right?' I feel his fingers squeezing my hips, he turns me to him giving me the view of the hair stuck to his forehead, with his chest shining, before I can make any comment, he increases his pace even more, he throws his head back speaking between moans
'Fuck, you're so hot y/n..' I feel my core tighten around him
'Don't squeeze me like that sweet little girl, I'm so close' he takes one of my legs and puts it around his waist to hit me harder, I feel that tightness in my abdomen
'Slut, you like the attention you're getting from them, don't you?' He pulls my hair back making me gasp.
'ja-jake..' he puts his hand on my neck, giving it a light squeeze, making me moan almost breathlessly, I feel my legs fail but he holds me
'you're so submissive to me aren't you? my sweet little girl' he bites my nipples making me scream in his arms
'answer me you bitch' he slaps my buttocks making me moan loudly
'yes!! I'm-m you-rs jake, onl-y yours, ahh' he speeds up the pace in an animalistic rhythm making me roll my eyes back
'i'm close jake..' he kisses my neck
'me too, cum with me little girl' he sucks my nipples as he pounds me harder
he moans throwing his head back, cum around his cock as I feel his seed releasing inside me
He nuzzles my neck and groans, 'Fuck, I know it's a lot to ask, but can I bite you please?'
I think for a moment, but I nod, he kisses the place where he had already bitten, and goes to the other side of the neck, I feel an agonizing pain but it is slowly replaced by pleasure, I feel my body becoming light as I fall asleep in his arms
'thank you sweet little girl' I hear your voice in the background as I fall into a deep sleep
.....
I wake up slightly with the sun on my face, I look to the side and see Jake sleeping on his stomach. I try to get out of bed slightly but I feel a hand pulling me back.
'where are you going hm?' he says in his morning voice, making my legs feel weak again
'we need to go to school jake' he whimpers as he gets up and changes, I pant lightly as he slightly flexes his upper body as he puts on his shirt
'Shall we go? I'll take you home to change then we'll go to school ok?' I nod slightly as I change
...
We arrived at school and received several curious looks from the students. I felt a little uncomfortable, but I didn't let it show..
'You can go ahead, I'll meet you in the classroom soon' I nod and go straight to the English classroom
before i can enter the room i meet sunghoon
'y/n, I'm sorry about yesterday, I didn't mean to cause all that confusion' he looks into my eyes and grabs my wrist, I understand why he did it, but it wasn't necessary, but I let it go
'it's okay sunghoon, it happens' he smiles showing his fangs, which I find very attractive about him
'Are we okay then?' I nod slightly at him giving him my best smile. We talk for a few more minutes but the bell rings and I enter the room.
...
You were in English class, but you just couldn't concentrate no matter what you tried.
You kept turning your hand over trying to find a place to draw. Suddenly, a hand appears, Jake's specifically.
His hands were so masculine and veins were running everywhere. You found it attractive before turning back to pay attention to what he says "You can draw on my hand if you want?" He said, looking at you with a smile.
"ah ok, thanks" you replied hesitantly, though
You look at him seeing him already looking directly into your eyes. Your cheeks got very hot. But he looked away, soon you felt one of his hands on your thigh.
'Go on princess'
You continue drawing on Jake's hand, but soon you feel his hand moving up your thigh towards your core..
'jake what are you doing?' I sigh as he reaches under my skirt
'just focus princess' he puts your panties on his fingers, and runs his fingers up and down, without warning he enters your entrance with two fingers making you sig
'Do you think I didn't see you and Sunghoon talking, hm? Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?' He whispers in my ear, he curls his fingers inside me making me lay my head on his shoulder, moaning softly, I look up and see a pair of eyes looking at me.
sunghoon and heeseung
'They're watching you, aren't they, little girl? Watching you come apart under my fingers.' I feel my orgasm approaching because of Jake's words.
'Come on baby, come undone on my fingers, look at them while you cum on my fingers' when Jake finishes talking I cum on his fingers making me roll my eyes, I look at Sunghoon I see him frowning leaving a slight sigh on his lips, Heeseung bites his lips lightly as he watches me come undone on Jake's fingers, I lightly squeeze Jake's fingers
'it did me so good princess' he licks his fingers making me moan softly, he smiles at me when he finishes
During class, I try to hide the discomfort between my legs by feeling sticky.
When the bell rings I'm the first one to leave, going straight to the bathroom
....
I finish cleaning myself and leave the bathroom
I walk towards the classroom, passing through the corridor, but soon I feel a hand pulling me towards the janitor's room, I try to get rid of the stranger's arms but soon I hear his voice
'shhh, it's me, doll' he kisses my neck making me sigh
It was Sunghoon
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taglist:@mitmit01 @kaykay11sworld @nshmrarki
444 notes · View notes
luveline · 7 months ago
Note
I love ur writing 💕 can I request something where reader is dense sortof/has low self esteem, so she likes hotch, admires him and would love to date him but can't imagine he would view her that way,, so he has to be really obvious with his advances? Not self indulgent at all 👉👈 no worries if not. Love u!
Hotch has to break the news that he’s been pursuing you. fem, 2k
Hotch would like to call you unassuming in the kindest way possible. Unassuming, in that not everyone who looks at you would find themselves immediately aware of your beauty (an old-fashioned way to put it, and true), because your poor self esteem leaves you shy. 
You don't believe anyone would want you. It doesn’t matter to Hotch beyond a weary heartbreak for you, as he doesn’t mind if it takes time to convince you. He only wishes you’d have more confidence. You’re pretty and you deserve to know it. 
“Hello,” he says, with intent to try again. 
You like him. He’s a grown man and a good judge of character, better of action, and he’d like to think that your sudden grimace whenever he speaks is again this cloud of insecurity rather than a true dislike for him. You have to warm up to him every day, but you do warm. 
“Hi, Hotch.” 
And listen, he’s not one to flirt at work, but if he ever wants a real shot with you, he has to be heavy-handed. “Hi,” he repeats, smiling, “how are things today?” 
You’re assistant office administrator for the BAU, and so Hotch isn’t technically your boss, but you do work beneath him. “Things are the same as always.” 
“Not too hard for you, then.” 
You catch his teasing, which is a new development. “Not too hard for me,” you say.
He doesn’t pretend he has reason to hang around. He thinks it might’ve contributed to you not believing he’s interested; he’d drop by with coffee because you seemed tired, or checked in on issues that didn’t need his supervision, and you’d taken every extra minute spent at your door as his attentiveness to his job, rather than an affection for you.
He stands with his hand on the doorway and just looks at you. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“You look beautiful today.” 
You touch the button at your neck. “It’s too much for work.” 
“No.” You’re wearing normal business casual clothing. You’ve pulled a necklace over your sweater, soft collar of a shirt kissing your throat. He imagines you’re wearing regular pants and flats or maybe a skirt and short heels beneath the desk, it doesn’t matter. “It’s not just what you’re wearing. You look pretty.” 
You could catch flame if something sparked near you. Lost, your lips part, and eventually you squeeze out a timid, “Thank you, Hotch.” 
 “Aaron.” 
“I don’t think so.” 
“Can we get coffee?” He dislikes the panic in your eyes and regrets how casual he sounded. “Can I get you a coffee?” 
“I’m okay.” 
“Well, maybe we can take lunch together?” 
“Have I done something?” 
“Have you?” he asks. 
He feels… young. Haley was the only woman he’d been with at a time, and casually there have been others now, but you’re the first woman he’s attempted to woo like this. He sometimes forgets that you’re shy and that he’s been married, distracted by his fizzing, almost joyful feelings for you. Flirting with you is a pleasure. 
You lick your lips quickly. “Where did you want to go? For lunch?” 
He was thinking you could bring your sandwich to his desk, but what you’re asking is a thousand times better. “Where do you want to go? Melanie’s?” he suggests. 
You breathe out in a strange laugh. “For lunch?” 
No, perhaps not. It’s rather fancy. “Somewhere nice, at least,” he says. 
“I don’t know where’s nice.” 
“Well, we can find somewhere. I’ll try to find somewhere before one, what do you think?” 
“Okay.” 
He smiles. “Okay.” 
He’s pulling away from the doorway when you stand up from your rolling chair and say his name, a near yelp, “Hotch! Wait, uh, wait a second.” 
He immediately turns back. “What?” he asks, giving you a quick once over. 
“Are you sure I’m not in trouble for something?” you ask. To your credit, you give a bashful little laugh. “I feel like I’m walking into a trap.” 
“I have no intentions of trapping you anywhere.” 
“Please don’t fire me at Melanie’s.” 
He smiles at you again and leaves your alcove of the office to head back to his own. Around the desks and the bullpen where his team sit doing their paperwork, up the stairs to the landing. He pauses before he goes inside.
JJ’s standing behind Derek’s desk. They’re chatting, JJ sipping at a mug, a small smile on her lips. Spencer watches her from his own desk. He doesn’t like her anymore to Hotch’s knowledge, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling at her with that slight thread of lovelorn shyness when she asks him what he’s so busy doing. 
Hotch has a moment of clarity at his desk when he realises he needs to find somewhere perfect to take you come lunch time. You hadn’t seemed convinced of your job security when he’d left you, and he spends some time pondering how best to accommodate you as he sorts thought Quantico’s best cafes and restaurants. 
He has emails to answer, phone calls to take, and to make. Time moves quickly, and by 1:02 he’s all sorts of late. It’s almost 1:12PM when he’s again at your office door, a warm plastic bag against his side. 
You’re looking at your lap. Coat in your hands, lip nibbled raw, there’s an internal conversation happening that he’s not privy to. He doubts he’d like it very much —the agony of self-doubt is written plainly in your slouch. 
He knocks your door, feeling very sorry for your startled jump. “Hi. Sorry, I’m late, I know. But I thought I’d bring dinner to you.” 
He thought of it like this: if he were to take you to dinner, you could explain it away as a professional superior who was going to fire you and changed his mind, or a superior checking in on his employee, or a superior simply being kind. He has, on occasion, taken different members of his team or office out to discuss things in their lunch hours because he was busy and needed their time at a convenient hour. You might not think anything of it. 
Right now, Hotch really wants you to think something of it. 
“What?” you ask. 
“Is that okay with you, if we stay here?” 
It’s a little much for you, apparently. You finally tip into incredulity. “Aaron, is everything alright? I really don’t understand what’s going on.” 
“I’d like to eat lunch together.”
“But why?” 
“Because you’re good company.” He’s sat knee to knee with serial killers, and his next sentence is still scary, “Because I like you, and I’m not sure how else to show it.” 
You press your coat to your stomach, frowning. “You like me.” 
“I was under the impression that you liked me too,” he says, smiling despite you and himself. Hotch might be a drill sergeant and a bully all those terrible moody stations as a boss, but he’s also just a man, and there’s little room for stoicism in love. 
“But you…” 
He waits, but then feels too sorry for you to let you flounder. “Honey, I don’t know how else to put it. I’ve tried compliments, I brought you that plant,” —he points to the still blooming orchid on your window— “I ask you what your plans are every weekend.” He looks swiftly behind him. Alone, he edges into your office to close the door and allow some privacy. “And every weekend I ask you if you want to get a drink. I’d think you didn’t like me if it weren’t for your tell.” 
“What’s my tell?” 
Your hand. Whenever he’s around, you take something into your hand and squeeze at it or feel it like you’re going to explode with nerves. He saves you the explanation, and instead lays his most gentle look on you. “If I’m wrong, please let me know. I’d never want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but you’re lovely.”
“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you say, semi-disbelieving. “You never do. I'm just confused.” 
“I’d really like to get to know you as more than a colleague.”
“You know me,” you mumble. 
He does. He knows what your favourite colour is, your favourite food, your soccer team. He sent you flowers on your birthday, asks after your sick neighbour, and checks your office light every night when he goes home, though he knows what time you leave each evening. And he knows that you’re scared to admit to liking him or anyone, because you worry you’re not allowed. 
“I do,” he agrees, giving the plastic bag a jostle. He doesn’t need big answers now. “Can I sit down?” 
You might not have a big answer to give, but your expression tells a story nonetheless. You wheel your seat backward and he pulls a spare chair toward your desk, your smile like an adornment as you push aside your things to make room. You smile so hard it changes your entire face. 
“Do you have napkins?” you ask, not so subtly breathless as he places the bag down and pushes the plastic back. 
He pulls out a wedge of them. You pinch them, and for a second the both of you hold them, your eyes meeting, your cheeks appled with matching smiles. 
“I thought the orchid was for secretary’s day,” you say quietly, taking the napkins. 
“You aren’t a secretary,” he says, holding out a plastic fork. 
When you go to grab it, he moves it up out of the way. Your startled laugh is beautiful. Totally stunning. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d wanted the quiet intimacy of teasing you over lunch until he had it. 
You grab the fork before he can move it again. “Too slow,” you say. 
“Oh, you think so?” he asks. 
“I know so, Aaron. Who has the fork?” 
Aaron, he thinks. Finally, Aaron. “You have the fork, but I have your lunch. I’d tread carefully if I were you.” 
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