#so three trips- one being a day trip the other being either a day trip or overnight and a possible third trip that’s a few days long | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prettyboykatsuki-moved · 11 months ago

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HELP ME FIND A WAY TO BREATHE | M. FUSHIGURO

♡ tags ; afab + fem!reader, aged-up characters (20s), mutual pining, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, canon divergent, sex pollen, dubious consent (they are both very enthusiastic to fuck but it is still sex pollen), brief one bed trope lol, light femdom, praise kink, penetration, unprotected sex / creampies, making out, not beta'd we die like [REDACTED MANGA SPOILERS] 18+

♡ wc ; 14.1k (???)

♡ a/n ; hello! happy june, and welcome to my first of three installments part of my @ficsforgaza intiative. please go check them out and join us in fundraising for the people of palestine.

no other really notes on this one other than it's egregiously horny and even more sappy. a super lovey-dovey pining fic. title from sleep walking by bmth

♡ synopsis ; megumi has loved you for as long as he's known you and then some - which is why he avoids going on overnight missions with you at all cost. he's going to kill gojo-sensei when he gets back.

“You should be more firm with Gojo-sensei about stuff like this,” Megumi leans back, eye twitching as he voices his complaints. “You know he always puts it on you because you won’t say no.”

You’re sitting next to Megumi reclined in your seat. He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know what face you’re making - a forgiving smile, your eyes crinkled at the corner as you shrug unbothered.

“It’s fine with me,” You turn your head to look at him a little better, pulling your eyes way from the window. “Just how it goes sometimes, you know? Plus, Sensei was nice enough to upgrade us and sending us on these expensive seats. When else are you gonna ride in one of these?”

Your smile reaches your eyes, light filtering through the windows in quick motion bursts as you speed along the rails. Megumi knew that’s what you were going to say. He shakes his head.

“Don’t make excuses for him,”

“Don’t be so prickly,” You reprimand, a long sigh leaving your lips. You reach across the armrest and pat Megumi’s shoulder “If we finish up early, we should go sight-seeing. There’s lots of temples in Sendai I’ve never seen before.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything to that. You haven’t moved your hand from his shoulder either. The touch is subconscious and friendly - and makes Megumi want to light himself on fire. He’s almost sure this is one of Gojo’s famous schemes, since there’s little to no reason he couldn’t handle a request like this one by himself. Or at least, Megumi could’ve gone alone and prevented himself from being alone with you on a trip for several consecutive days.

(He’s got a special talent for avoiding this exact thing - always planning ahead and switching things around so this kind of incident never occurs. He’s had a ninety-nine percent success rate. Without Gojo’s meddling, it’d probably be one-hundred)

There’s not a lot of information about the mission at present. The case files were barely filled out when he got them - only three papers tucked away neatly in a manila folder. On those pages are a few reports of cursed energy in the area and a map - outlining the general perimeter. From what intel the two of you do have, the concentration of said cursed energy in an abandoned commune. Megumi thinks it spells trouble, but some part of him is holding onto hope that it’s an easy to deal with curse. Something quick - so the two of you can be back on the next train ride to Tokyo.

Pitiful yearning fills him when your hands float away from his shoulder and settle back into your lap. You’re lost in your own thoughts, eyes lidded as you stare outside of the window. He doubts you got much sleep last night. You always stay up before long trips. He sighs a little.

“We’ve still got,” He checks his watch. “At least another hour and fifty minutes. Now’d be the time to get some rest.”

You startle at the sound of his voice, a yawn escaping you. “No,” You whine, lips formed into a soft pout that makes the corners of Megumi’s lips twitch. “Won’t you be lonely without my company, Megumi-kun?”

He gives you a long suffering sigh. “No. I have a lot to read. Get some sleep.”

Your frown deepens but Megumi doesn’t budge. The both of you make prolonged eye-contact until you final give in after another yawn interrupts your protesting. Your eyes are barely open as is. How stubborn of you.

“Wake me up like fifteen minutes before we’re there, please?” You relent.

Megumi just nods. You smile at him and his heart beats loudly at the sight as you close your eyes and succumb to exhaustion. He starts scrolling on his phone, opening his library app to read when your head falls onto his shoulder. He goes stone stiff - body locking up and blood pressure sky-rocketing before he regains control of his senses and loosens his muscles so you don’t end up waking. He leans his head back against the cushion of the seat and takes a deep breath.

His phone buzzes in his hand, mood dropping as soon as he sees who it’s from.

don’t respond: my dearest megumi-chan ! have the two of you arrived safely?

Megumi thinks about not responding, quickly reminded of the fact Gojo-sensei would not only keep texting him but abuse the ‘Notify Anyway’ option given half the chance. Ignoring the oncoming migraine, he types back carefully in order to leave you undisturbed.

(sent 6:58pm) we’re on the train now.

The reply is instant.

don’t respond: oh my… how late. was there a delay.

(sent 6:58 pm) yeah.

don’t respond: tsk…why pay all that money for the good seats if this was the outcome...

don’t respond: well. nothing you can do now. get a hotel in Sendai and check out the location during the day.

Megumi squints at his phone, scowl forming instantly.

(sent 7:02) a hotel?? what for??

don’t respond: megumi-chan… i raised you better than this. you are going to let a beautiful young maiden walk around the dark unknown at night?

He makes a face of disgust at the phrase. Not that Megumi thinks you aren’t beautiful, but hearing the sentiment from Gojo-sensei’s mouth is truly nauseating.

(sent 7:02) … we’ll get the hotel.

don’t respond: wonderful ! and if i may offer you some advice my dear boy

(sent 7:03) please don’t.

don’t respond: do not miss your chance ! this beautiful gift your sensei has bestowed upon you to make progress in your youthful love

Megumi scowls. He knew that was it.

(sent 7:04): You disliked “do not miss your chance ! this…”

dont respond: [IMG ATTACHMENT]

Megumi stares at the attached meme (a dog gyaru posing) with a grimace - no doubt borrowed from Itadori or Kugisaki. He frowns, disliking that one too before putting the messages between them on mute and opening the app to read his book. He’s been reading a lot of his usual nonfiction. Lately it’s an autobiography of a famous Japanese author - Soseki, the father of all modern novels. He’s gotten farther into it than he thought he would since he’s only had it for a few days. The writing is engaging.

He bought it per your recommendation too, so he wants to finish it. The sudden memory of that makes Megumi blush again, his skin prickling under the fabric of his uniform.

You’re still sound asleep beside him, your breathing even and steady. If he focuses, he can see you clearly from the corner of his eyes. The soft plumpness in your lips, and each of your lashes sitting against your cheek.

He keeps focused on reading, though - and prays that the train ride goes a little faster.

“Hey,” His arm feels stiff as he moves it away from you gentle, making sure to keep your head upright and steady on the seats headrest as he wakes you from your sleep. “We’re almost here.”

He sees your eyes stir behind your lids, nose crinkling as you regain consciousness. He’s grateful you can’t see him smile at you as you wake up. Quickly getting his face back to it’s baseline neutral, he waits for you to wake up as you pull away from him and sit up. You let out a long yawn, rubbing underneath your eye as to not smudge your makeup. Blinking the sleep away from your vision, you finally open your eyes. Megumi watches on in silence, trying not to look too endeared.

“Good morning,” You say as a half joke. Megumi doesn’t bother hiding his laugh.

“Morning.”

You smile at him, pleased by his response. You pat around your body looking for your phone, visibly relieved when you find it. Megumi continues watching you as you pull it up, resting your hands on the pull-out table in front of you. You chuckle at your screen. Megumi raises his eyebrow in interest.

“Did you talk to Gojo-sensei?”

He nods. “Couple of hours ago. Why?”

Instead of replying, you pull your notification center down and show Megumi the barrage of texts sent two hours-ish prior. Your phone must’ve been on DND while you were asleep since Megumi hadn’t heard them either. There’s at least ten messages. Megumi scowls in displeasure, and you break out into a terribly lovely laugh seeing it.

“See what I mean? If you give sensei an inch, he’ll take a mile. Why is he texting you this student this much?”

You can’t suppress your giggles. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s a little lonely now that you’re old enough to do things by yourself - that’s all.”

“Then he should bother me instead of you,” Megumi grumbles. Your smile doesn’t fade.

“He texted you afterwards, so I guess it’s a start.”

“Stop being so nice to him.”

You laugh again. Megumi tries not to smile and ultimately succeeds.

You study him for a brief moment before reclining a bit.

“Guess I’ll have to be extra nice to you, then.”

A blush crawls up the back of his neck almost instantly. Your grin has a crooked edge, a touch of mirth and amusement that makes Megumi want to crawl into somewhere dark and disappear. Warmth and restless makes home in his ribcage, your perception endlessly tormenting. You don’t tease him more than that, allowing Megumi catch his breath.

“I don’t even know how that’d be possible.”

“Really?” You say without missing a beat, not even looking at him as you gather up your things. “I can think of plenty of ways to be even sweeter to Megumi-kun, though?”

He can feel the blush deepen. His cheeks are undeniably crimson by now, he’s sure - and he can barely stand the soft quality in your voice long enough to breathe. You’re still calm, the words genuine but undeniably tilted along the axis of teasing. If Megumi were any less stubborn, he might even beg you for mercy. He is, of course, incredibly bull-headed and refuses to do so. He huffs a little instead.

“You make it sound like there’s some quota for it.” He says, kind of lamely. Your eyes flutter, something passing in your gaze - gone before Megumi can get hold of it and know what it is. You make an impassive noise, but don’t say anything in reply. Your non-answer makes him think that you might really have one. He tries not to blush any more than he is now and shakes the thought off.

“You all ready to go?” You ask finally. He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah. Should be.” Megumi replies, looking down at his phone for the time. It’ll be closer to 9:30 by the time you get out of the station. “Dunno if you read Sensei’s messages but he told us to stay the night at a hotel first since it’s already this late and it’s nothing urgent.”

Your brows raise in surprise before you nod. “That’s probably smart. As much I’d love to be done sooner, probably not the best idea to go lurking around in the night. We’ll do that, then.”

“I’ll start looking at hotels,” Megumi adds.

“Thanks for being so helpful, Megumi-kun.”

He rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. You’re welcome.”

“This is…really the only place with available rooming for tonight?”

Megumi looks at you with an absent grimace, affirming you with a curt nod. You glance at each other, sharing mutual disbelief and basking in the solidarity of your absurd situation for a bit. A long silence stretches over you both, a weighted quiet that makes Megumi wish a giant curse would literally swallow him into the ground.

He wishes he had some explanation for this. His name meaning blessing feels like a spit in the face given how deeply unlucky everything about this mission has been so far.

Of all the hotels in Sendai, the only one within reasonable distance of your mission site that is accepting last minute is a love hotel. A love hotel is something of a non-issue. It’s a tourist misconception to view them as kinky paradises. More modern love hotels are usually just short stays - last minute bookings with cheap prices and always adult. The full blown kinky stuff tends to stay in the several entertainment districts scattered across Japanese metropolitans.

It’d be nice if that was the case here, but based on various reviews and the neon flashing blue sign at the top of the building - this is definitely the kind of love hotel for couples. The kind used for sex. It’s the only one in proximity accepting last minute bookings, and the only hotel for miles. Megumi lets out a long suffering sigh. He can see you smiling sympathetically from the corner of his eye. He pinches the bridge of his nose as a new wave of regret settles in his bones.

“I’m sorry,” Megumi says, unsure of what else to say. He is truly and deeply sorry for the level of misfortune he seems to have around you. You shake your head in reply, shrugging.

“Let’s make the best of it,” You respond, pausing before going on. “Sensei is going to be really annoying about seeing this charge on his card, huh?”

Megumi must look as distraught as he feels because you laugh immediately at his expression. You squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, though you clearly find it funny. “Sorry, sorry. It’ll be fine. Maybe he won’t notice.”

Gojo-sensei tends to keep tabs whenever people are away on missions. It’s a common precaution for sorcerers, and when more experienced sorcerers relegate their own work - they are solely responsible for that task. Megumi can only hope he’s too busy to keep watch on it for the night. Realistically though, it means Sensei will definitely see.

Megumi decides to overlook this information as best he can. At least for now.

You trek into the hotel with your away bag, Megumi in-step behind you with his head hung low.

It sounds corny to him retroactively (he can’t help but cringe when he says it aloud), but Megumi had foolishly hoped he could be somewhat useful to you in this mission. Every fight the two of you have been in together, you’ve saved Megumi’s skin at least once. He’s incredibly aware of the increasing debt between you. Thank you’s and paid dinners stopped being enough a long time ago. He wasn’t…hoping to be a knight in shining armor or anything like that - but he really wanted to do more this time since you’re already going together.

You probably understood that talking to the front desk in these conditions would give him a hernia and took the responsibility on without complain. You make these acts of consideration look easy and natural - smooth like the flow of water. Megumi has yet to learn how to swim against the tide instead of getting swept up in its motion.

Despite Megumi’s countless attempts at repaying your kindness, he’s never been able break even. He reflects on this as you speak to the woman at the front desk.

The lobby of Hotel:SAPPHIRE is exactly what someone might expect from an actual love hotel. The lights are dim even up front and there’s a lot of glittery, mildly gaudy decor. Aside from the front desk, the first floor hosts some kind of amenities store and a lounge or bar.

Megumi’s awareness of his surroundings is making his blush worse. He’s not concerned by being seen in a love hotel, as much as he’s hung up on the idea that people are assuming you’re both a couple. Rationally, he knows that means nothing. You’re two people of the opposing gender and similar age - of course people would think that.

Still, it makes him so…ugh…shy, he could genuinely die of misery.

He tries his best to zone out, but ultimately can’t. He tunes in to listens to you talk to the woman at the front desk instead.

“There’s probably no double beds here, huh?” You ask. The woman at the front desk gives you a confused look of both sympathy and apology. You shake your head with a pleasant smile.

“Yeah. I thought so. What’s the nicest room you have?”

“We have a queen room, with a queen bed, couch and a jacuzzi. It has one of our more spacious bathrooms as well.”

Megumi closes his eyes. Your reply is chipper. “Sure! We’ll take that one.”

“And how long will you be staying?”

“About five days?”

His eyes snap open. Megumi gives you an incredulous look from where he’s standing. You turn back with a small smile as if having predicted it and then shrug again.

“I still wanna go sightseeing.”

He can’t say anything to refute you in the moment, despite how much he’d like to push back on the idea. You’re definitely enjoying yourself, at least. Maybe he should’ve expected that. You’re not exactly the type to get easily embarrassed. Even getting the words of complaint out feel too humiliating given the context. He sighs.

“Whatever,”

The woman at the front desk, increasingly baffled by the nature of your relationship, puts you down for five days before handing you two room cards.

She briefly explains some of the perks, and gently points you to the small store which freely offers things like lube, condoms, scented lotions and oils, and bath products. It’d be great if some meteor hit Earth right now and killed him (and only him) instantly. You give her your kindest thanks and take the two room cards, turning around to pass one over to Megumi. He gives you a long look. You reply with two thumbs up and goofy grin.

“Let’s go to the little store place!”

“Why the hell would you want to do that” Megumi hisses, blushing profusely. You are predictably nonplussed by his reaction.

“I want to see the scented lotions. A souvenir. If you will.”

It’s truly imperative to to him in that moment he remembers how often you’ve saved him from mortal peril. He relents easily after that, trailing along behind you.

It’s less of a store and more of a display case of possible lewd items on four sides of a centered wall, with just enough space to walk around. Megumi stonewalls as soon as the two of you are within five feet of it. You take your time looking through the different thing and snickering at the display case.

At one point, you tug Megumi’s sleeve and snap him out of his trance. He begrudgingly follows your gaze, eyes widening at the display case of condoms. There are so many condoms. He didn’t even know they made that many kinds.

“Maybe we should bring one? You know, just in case.” You do a stupid wiggle with your eyebrows. Megumi is painfully aware it’s just jokes, closing his eyes with a deep sigh, elbowing you lightly.

“Fuck off.”

Your voice is sing-songy as you continue your tirade.

“You never know, Megumi! What if end up in a condom emergency trying to fight curses?”

“Please shut up.”

Your laughter sounds again behind your closed fist, but you’re merciful and turn the corner to look at everything else.

You indeed pick up two scented lotions and a bath bomb before you finally agree to retire to the room.

Megumi is rendered speechless when you finally unlock the door to your room.

He isn’t sure why. He should’ve expected much worse.

The room is big as promised. Probably three times the size of his own dorm at Jujutsu Tech. There’s one bed in the middle (certainly king-sized, not queen) - with a couch and glass table adjacent to it along the back wall. The couch is upholstered with a creaky, gold fabric and the walls are painted mostly white with the exception of one wall being painted sapphire blue, decorated with a rose mural. The throw pillows and complimentary blanket share a familiar loud pattern, incorporating all three colors and stitched with gold threads.

There’s rose petals everywhere. On the bed, floor, and the table. The glass table accompanying the couch even has two champagne flutes and complimentary bottle to go along with it. There’s a present box on the bed, wrapped in shiny white wrapping paper and a sickly sweet, red bow.

Megumi doesn’t want to know what’s inside.

You shut the door behind him after dragging in the rest of your luggage.

The two of you take in the view together for a minute before Megumi hears you break out into a long fit of laughter, making him jolt. He looks over at where you’ve dropped down into a squat, giggling hysterically beside him. He feels suddenly winded from the days events as you break the tension.

After you gather yourself you stand to your feet and look at him warmly, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. Megumi wishes he could take it as easy as you.

“Ahh…hehehe..” You put a hand over your mouth trying to suppress the sound as you turn away. “Okay, sorry. Uhm. Hah. Do you want to shower first or should I?”

Megumi responds reflexively. “You can shower first.”

You nod, yawning as you stretch your arms up. He forces himself not to look at the way your shirt rides up over your stomach. Patting his shoulder after collecting yourself, you shoot him a tired but reassuring smile. At least he knows you’re both exhausted.

“Thanks, Megumi-kun. Do me a favor and order room service, please? I’m starving.”

He nods. “Do you want to look at the menu?”

You wave your hand dismissively, taking your bag and turning to the bathroom. “I trust you know me well enough to know what I want.”

The instant preening internally makes Megumi want to crawl in a hole. He’s glad you can’t see him.

“Yeah. Go shower, already.”

“Mm,” You make a noise as you stretch. “Will do.”

The room is unnaturally dim.

There’s a movie playing in the background as both you and Megumi sit on the bed. You’re doing some work on your laptop - typing in short bursts every few minutes. Megumi has no idea what you’re working on. You’re oddly meticulous with paper work but aside from the disaster of finding room and board - there isn’t anything to report on.

Whatever it is though, you’ve been working on since you finished dinner an hour ago - nursing your beer while typing away.

Megumi glances at you from the corner of his eyes, heart unfairly racing at the lack of distance between you. He really should be past this. Your skin is damp from the shower and you smell like the scented lotion from earlier which makes him feel weird and warm. He decided to drink with you, but his tolerance is much worse than yours so he feels a little tipsy. He isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Dealing with everything sober hasn’t been very fun.

He’s staring at you openly but you’re too preoccupied to take notice. He’s kind of grateful. His fingers tap the sides of his can as his eyes flits up to the cheap action movie playing on the TV.

After a little longr, you stretch your arms over your head and shut your laptop.

“All done with your work?”

You blink rapidly, momentarily taken aback before smiling. “Yeah. Finally.”

“What were you actually doing?”

“Started on the report and then dug around some old archives for information on the commune.”

“Did you find anything?”

You laugh humorlessly. “More or less? But nothing we couldn’t have figured out on our own. The commune was more like a curse cult but it ran functionally for almost ten years. They did some type of curse breeding.”

“Curse… breeding? As in like…?” Megumi asks, making a face.

“It’s what it sounds like? I think. There’s not really any more information. The uploaded documents were barely legible. How it works, why they did it, and if it was effective - we have no information on that. Just that there was some powerful curses in the area in the late nineties.”

“In the nineties? So it’s been what, decades since any activity? Why now?”

You shrug. “Best guess is that the sudden uptick in tourism caused it. You know, Sensei had some business in Sendai a few years back. It was right before Itadori-kun got hold of Sukuna I think. It’s not impossible for all of it to be connected.”

Megumi sighs. “Don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

“I want to look into Gojo-sensei’s case right now but,” A yawn interrupts your train of thought. “We’ll need to be up and at ‘em early tomorrow.”

“Right,” He says, immediately preparing to sleep on couch and praying you won’t notice. “Goodnight, then -“

His plans are foiled fast of course. Before he can get up, you tug at the sleeve of his robe. Your face is flush from beer and sleep. You’re so effortlessly alluring to his brain he’s irritated. The motion picture casts a soft glow on your features, picturesque in how pretty you seem to be with no effort.

“Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch.”

“I can’t let you do that,” You shake your head. Megumi says nothing. “I’ll take the couch.”

He purses his lips. “Did you think I was gonna say yes to that?”

You press your lips into a flat line. “No…not really. But.. I can’t let you sleep on the couch. It’ll be a long day and you need rest,” You smile at him sleepily “I don’t mind sharing the bed.”

“Absolutely not,” He replies instantly. You pout at him. Damn it.

“Megumi-kun, please? We can just put one of the pillows between us.”

Megumi stares at you with a hardened brow. He knows from experience that a pillow would barely resolve the issue. A lesson he learned at fifteen where a similar incident had you both sleeping in the same tent.

You move in your sleep. A lot. As a result, fifteen year old Megumi spent an entire night with you, paralyzed by the lack of distance and missing an entire night of sleep. Every muscle in his body in his body had set rigid like early onset rigor mortis from stress that night.

He barely slept. Worse, the next morning Sensei had practically harassed him about his disheveled state. Megumi couldn’t look you in the eye for the rest of the mission, though he got over it eventually. Only because you seemed very troubled when he didn’t talk to you.

You’re making a similarly distressed expression now at the thought of making Megumi sleep on the couch. He winces, swayed with embarrassing ease. The feeling fades after he sees how brightly you smile.

“Thank you,”

He wants to ask why you’re thanking him, but doesn’t know if he can handle hearing the answer so he says nothing. You turn the TV off and finish your beer and toss the can before returning to bed and undoing the covers. Megumi sits on the edge, watching as you rearrange the various pillows. You place a body pillow in between the both of you and fluff up another pillow to give to Megumi. You smile as you hand it to him, and he takes it with a soft blush.

He reminds you to go brush your teeth and watches you pad off to go do it, sighing and trying to meditate before it’s his turn to do the same. The alcohol is wearing off quicker than he hoped.

The room is nearly pitch black except for a single dim light when Megumi comes back from the bathroom. You’re already in bed, and you smile when Megumi emerges with a stupidly cute giggle following. He’ll never get used to you, he’s sure.

Megumi craws into bed beside you. The bed is wide and spacious - and there’s plenty of room seperating you. He isn’t any less self-conscious of the fact he’s still sleeping in a bed next to you though, for better for worse.

“Night, Megumi.” You mumble, barely awake. You’ll fall asleep fast. Megumi reaches over and turns off the lights.

“Night.”

He lays in the dark, facing the other wall and waiting for your breathing to go even. Compelled to turn towards your back, Megumi does so as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. He can make out your silhouette in the dark, tracing the outline of your shoulder with his eyes as he continues to feel incredibly nervous and lovesick. He’s been pining like this for so long, he finds it pathetic.

You’re less than a few feet away but he can barely bring himself to look at you. Oddly overwhelmed, he lets his eyes close and tries his best not to think too much about the next few days.

Against all odds, Megumi sleeps well and wakes up feeling better.

You, of course, moved around a bunch in your sleep - ending up on his side of the bed with a single arm thrown across his waist and your face in his chest. He woke up earlier than you, thankfully - and carefully pried himself from your touch to take a cold shower in the bathroom and not die of embarrassment at the resulting morning wood.

You were awake by the time he got out. After you were both ready for the day, you ate breakfast together and had coffee before leaving the hotel. The whole situation was more embarrassing during the daylight.

Your hotel is a twenty minute drive from the site location of the mission. A quick taxi cab ride to a small temple. Navigating isn’t exceptionally difficult. The temple itself is somewhat obscured, not marked on any online maps. It’s well known locally though, enough that a taxi driver could take them towards the bottom of the hill where it’s located. It’s listed as a temple, but on further inspection it’s a small and worn shrine. The details about the shrines origin or history are unclear even.

After arriving, you were both relying on the provided map. The commune itself is away from civilization. A couple hundred meters Northeast from the temple sight is a path through the forest - leading out to the clearing where the commune is supposedly located.

The communes ruins are a one straight distance after that. If someone was taking a short hike, it wouldn’t be hard to find.

So it isn’t difficult to find for the two of you either.

Megumi’s shikigami follow along side him, divine dog sniffing along the trail. You’re up front, checking the path and making sure the trail is correct, as well taking notes for your report later on.

You turn your head and share a look with Megumi - no doubt feeling the same thing he does. There’s cursed energy around here, but it’s weird and hard to trace. Neither him nor the Shikigami can make sense of exactly where it’s coming from.

Eventually, you come across stone - laid deliberately like a pathway, and glance at Megumi with hopeful eyes.

A clearing comes in view. Ruins, with cursed energy brimming somewhere within them fall into his sightline. It’s a bigger location that Megumi thought it’d be - stretching out far despite hosting so few residents. There are dilapidated cabins and other buildings, the place filled with overgrowth and ivy. Shattered windows, graffiti, and trash affirm to Megumi that this place was found by other people at one point or another.

Megumi stands besides you as you assess the situation, silently taking the lead. You step forward, further in. A sigh leaves your lips as you turn to Megumi.

“We’re here but,” You scratch the back of your neck. “What to do now is…”

“What are you thinking?”

You sigh. “Part of me wonders if we should split up to check the buildings, but the information is so vague that I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“It’s fine.” Megumi assures. He’s not thrilled but splitting up for now is the best course of action. He can handle himself. He’s sure you’re worrying about that. “As long as we can hear each other, it should be fine.”

Your concern muddles your features, brows drawn together as you frown. You relent eventually though. Megumi feels the corners of his mouth twitch up at how long you think about it.

“Okay then,” You use your fingers to point towards the left half, right at what looks like an abandoned dormitory. “I’ll go look in there. Megumi-kun can go that way. And if anything sticks out, call for me immediately.”

“Don’t worry so much.”

“If it’s Megumi, I can’t help but worry,” Your reply comes in the same beat. He feels himself blush, casting his gaze to his Divine Dog with a frown.

“I’ll be fine so let’s hurry up and look around already.”

You still hesitate to part ways with Megumi, but you budge eventually. He waits for you to summon protection for yourself, watching in awe as you unzip a deck of cards from the side pocket of your uniform. Beautiful, steel enforced hanafuda cards shine in the daylight. You shuffle them with your eyes closed, feeling along the backs for the right one before sliding the set back into your uniforms compartment.

You make a gesture to follow along with the command two-handed tanzaku, ten points - and Megumi watches the curse manifest around your arms. A strand of bi-colored tanzaku paper appears in your hand, razor-sharp with cursed energy. You coil it around your wrist before turning to Megumi with a small smile.

Despite how often he’s seen you do it, the appreciation in your face at the newly summoned curse make his emotions bubble and swell with impossible longing.

“Let’s meet back here if we get lost,” You say precariously. Megumi huffs.

“We won’t get lost. It’s barely that far.”

You pout at him. “It’s better to be safe then sorry.”

He wants to ask when you’re doing when you drop down to your knees - but the words die in his throat as your hand comes up to pet his shikigami affectionately. You give it a small smile. “Please take care of Megumi-kun in my absence.”

The Divine Dog lets out a pleased chuff that makes you smile.

“….We’ll be fine,” He says - because as much as he would like to make fun of you for it, he finds it all terribly cute. You stand back up to your feet, seemingly more reassured. That’s good at least. “I’ll go ahead, then.”

Megumi turns to leave before you can get another embarrassing word in edgewise, blush crawling up against his skin. Once he hears your foot steps fall lighter and lighter in the opposite direction, he takes moment to steel himself and prepare for the mission.

It’s easier to tear his mind away from you when the threat of mortal peril looms - so for once, Megumi is just a little grateful to be a sorcerer.

He takes a better look at his surroundings, shikigami sniffing along the crumbling pathways of the ruined commune and searching for a scent. It’s a strange place with a strange aura, aside from the curse. There’s not much way to describe other than tiny village. The half you’ve gone to explore seems to be nothing but houses and communal living - with some kind of central house if Megumi had to guess based on it’s layout.

Where Megumi is walking along though seems to be amenities. On the right is open space - rustic wood stakes stuck into the ground with clothes-wire with a rotted fence separating it from another big patch of dirt. There’s signs tacked onto some of the structural poles along the outside, but they’re too dirty for Megumi to read. It’s easy to tell from how crude everything is that all of it was hand-made.

On the left of him are storage sheds and old-crates that have somehow stood the test of time - covered in dust and dirt and moss. One of the storage sheds has a completely collapsed roof

It’s entirely uninteresting, and that feels unsettling. The cursed air still lingers, but the familiar acrid scent doesn’t seem to be there. It’s something else, something new - and it’s simmering under the surface. Neither he nor his Shikigami seem to pick up on anything clearly.

After a few minutes of walking, Megumi thinks they start to close in on the end of the trail. His shikigami suddenly comes to life. He looks forward.

At the end of the trail, obscured by more forest and trail is a greenhouse. It’s made with all glass, and there’s moss and condensation surrounding it. Something about it feels alive, but Megumi can’t tell if that’s just his well-developed paranoia.

“Go find her,” Megumi says. The shikigami makes an affirmative noise and darts off in the opposite direction as Megumi closes into the building and surrounding structures.

The front door of the structure is pried open and pushed against the wall. It’s an interesting shape - a half-dome and much bigger than how it looks from the outside when Megumi steps in. Too big. It’s weird.

All of the hair stands on the back of Megumi’s neck as he stands inside of it. He fits with plenty of space to move his limbs. There are raised beds along both sides of the facility - the material boxing them in now covered in dirt and dust. Overgrowths and some kind of small plant crush underneath his feet and surround him. It smells… sweet. Very sweet but distantly. Megumi can’t figure out what it is. Towards the back are gardening tools and a table with things on it.

It’s here. This is the center of whatever unusual cursed energy he’s been feeling since they’ve been within one-hundred feet of this place. It’s in here, surrounding him.

His skin starts to feel hot. He figures the presence of the glass might be concentrating sunlight and brushes it aside.

He doesn’t get much time alone in his assessment of the place. A few minutes pass before you find him again, smiling at him upon your return. Megumi’s heart does a soft pitter-patter as you enter, his shikigami proudly behind you. There’s a sudden leap in his affection laying eyes on that doesn’t make sense. It’s unusual and unprofessional for him to get so caught up on it during a mission. He’s had enough with you to know how to tamp the feeling down. He has a hard time with it this time thought but shakes it off.

“Did you find anything?” Megumi asks. Your tanzaku is wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet, Megumi notices.

“Yeah, actually. Notes. I didn’t get much time to check and a lot of them were too water-damaged to read, but I think curse breeding might’ve been an inaccurate,” You say, scratching the back of your neck. “It seemed like something else. With different kinds of cursed energy, or something to create more output.”

Megumi doesn’t know what that means, and it must show on his face because you laugh in understanding. “Yeah. It wasn’t clear to me either but I haven’t seen everything yet. I thought I should come here first so we can expel whatevers here.”

“That’s the problem, though.” Megumi says. “Can’t figure out what exactly is here. The cursed energy is…”

“Obscured,” You say easily. Megumi nods.

“Exactly,”

“Never seen anything like this before, honestly.”

Megumi is surprised by that. You’ve been a special grade for a long time, the extent of your abilities equal to Okkotsu-senpai He doesn’t know how worried he should be. You’re focusing hard as you look around.

He tries to do the same, wants to contribute more to the conversation but his mind feels strangely cloudy. He slept well he thought. Maybe the heat is bothering him more than expected. The uniforms have always been stuffy during summer.

You step around around him to look at your surroundings better, but find the same problem.

After a minute or two of aimlessly searching, something seems to click in. You drop down to your knee. Your fingers caress whatever is sprouting in the ground underneath you. Plucking one from the soil, you bring it up to your face and frown. You’re gentle with the petals. It looks like a clover of some kind, but the color is too bright - more like a small flower maybe. He’s never seen anything like it.

Megumi feels his skin go hot again watching you touch it. It’s odd. Too sudden and almost nonsensical, how much magentism he feels towards your innocuous gesture.

There’s another shift in the air, deliberate - and something moves underneath Megumi’s feet. Your voice is panicked as some sudden realization dawns on you, his shikigami barks loudly.

Everything moves around him in a daze. His ears are ringing suddenly, heart thumping hard against his chest as the flowers beneath him move and distort into tendrils, curling around his ankles.

“Megumi-kun, we have to get out of here. We have to—“

Your words are cut short before he can heed them. A scream rips from his chest as the ground opens up and swallows him whole.

He falls for a long time. It seems endless.

His voice is trapped in his throat, despite his attempts to scream. His body weightless, crashes through empty space for what feels like hours. Despite the situation, all Megumi can worry about is you. You aren’t falling beside him though he’s sure you came in together. The whole that ripped the ground was too big for that not to be true. The thought of you dying is so familiar, but it makes Megumi want to throw up mid-air.

The crash comes eventually. Bracing himself for impact as he falls backwards , he lands onto something like grass. It’s not painful in the least. His skin prickles at the sensations surrounding him. Saccharine sweetness distorts the air, an artificial scent clogging his lungs as he gasps and opens his eyes.

He senses a presence next to him and turns to find you beside him in the grass. His body aches, both wanting to find relief in the fact you’ve appeared beside him and feeling uncertainty at the same fact. Cursed energy seeps through every inch of this place, and part of him worries you’re some kind of illusion or mirage. Regardless, he calls out for you and hopes you’ll answer.

“Hey,” He tries saying your name but you don’t budge. He nudges your arm but retracts just as quickly, hissing - the sensation making his skin burn at point of contact. A hole sears in your uniform where he touches you. “Wake up, shit. Please wake up.”

After another minute, your eyes open. Megumi lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. You groan as you sit up. Megumi sits up with you.

“Fuck,” Your voice is thick as you sit with one leg up, a pressing a knuckle to your temple. “My head is pounding.”

Megumi makes a noncommittal noise. “Yeah. I can’t tell what kind of domain this is.”

“These were just apart of the curse, then. I felt something off of them but..,” You pick a flower up from the grass and it..moves. He frowns. “They must just be apart of the domain. Which means there’s a special grade behind this.”

Right. Megumi has been too hung up on everything else to make proper note of that. He rubs the back of his neck as he tries to absorb his surroundings. The air around him is hazy pink. He can’t acclimate to it, breathing shallow. From the flower-curse you picked, to the plants on the trees nearby. It’s lush and humid, but the makeup in the surroundings is dreamlike. A woodland forest of some kind, maybe. There’s a waterfall and round body of water, a short distance away and trees on every side. It’s alarming in how beautiful it is, disconcerting since the cursed energy inside is potent enough to make all the hair on Megumi’s neck stand straight.

“My, my. What delicious sorcery I’ve stumbled upon,”

Megumi looks around to try to find the source of the voice but comes up with nothing. You and Megumi share a look in silent understanding.

“An unregistered Special Grade in the underground of Sendai.” Your voice is resolute. It sounds so different to how you usually speak, firm and cold. “How did you obscure your cursed energy like this.”

“So many questions. Don’t be so hostile to your host,” The voice is soft and feminine but deeply distorted at the same time. Grating. “I’m a benevolent spirit, little sorcerer - so I won’t kill you right away. Keep in mind you are in my domain. To attack me would be unwise. And I promise, you’ll feel good until the very end.”

You quiet, assessing the situation. There’s so little about the curse that either of you can make out. The curse is intelligent enough to bargain - to reason, which means the danger you’re both in is substantial enough to be incredibly cautious. You realize it quickly, Megumi is sure. He shoots you a look, your brows furrowed as you try to make everything make sense.

“What are you after?”

“You must know, little sorcerer. Human desire is filthy thing. Money, power, fame.” The air changes around you - flowers besides you blooming higher and higher until you’re all but surrounded. The sickly sweet scent becomes stronger and headier. Megumi’s lungs fill with the strange gas, burning the back of his throat. He coughs, trying to expel it. “What beautiful curses are born from pent-up and unspoken wants.”

“Fuck this is so irritating,” You seem to be in a similar condition, holding up your first to your mouth as you cough along side him

“Human beings are so foolish in the face of lust, so inducing such a fever is easy. But the results can be so lackluster.” The curse is taunting, giddy at the prospect of you. “How lucky and I to come across such talented jujutsu sorcerers with such ripe energy, hm?’

“An underhanded method like this,” You talk mostly to yourself. “Your physical form must be weak, then. To obscure yourself inside of your domain.”

Megumi can feel the cursed energy amplify, a sneer in the Special Grade’s voice.

“How clever.” It remarks sarcastically. “But not clever enough. It’ll be staring any minute now. Fight it to your hearts content, little sorcerer. I’m looking forward to the show.”

It’s only a split second before the heat starts to sink into Megumi’s body. He burns so intensely, so suddenly - it makes every other sensation feel trivial. It’s painful, searing, and all-consuming. Breathless, he feels his vision blur as a strong wave of physical arousal completely dominates him. It’s like an injection, nerves on high alert as he pulls at the neck of his uniform and gasps. The flowers surrounding you bloom into something grotesque, an open mouth in the center hissing out more of the pink hazy gas that’s surrounding you before turning again, until you can barely see a few feet away from each other. Megumi can feel the cursed energy course through his body, like pure fire in his blood stream. His cock is hard as steel, makes him feel like he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t touch himself.

Forcing himself to remain steady for as long as he can, he searches for you. Your condition isn’t better as you lean back on your palms - your chest heaving in out as visible arousal paints your face. You share the same pain, the same lust, the same fever. The thought of it makes Megumi’s cock stir again shamefully.

“I’m sorry,” Megumi can barely make out his voice. It’s so painful. His entire body feels like it’s screaming but he can’t bear the idea of forcing you to touch him. These conditions, this situation - this terrible heat. Whatever loose threads of rationale are keeping him afloat in these few minutes are begging him to find a way out of this.

He knows it’s the circumstances. No one understands things like this more clearly than him but he feels deep resentment anyway. Mostly towards himself. “I’m sorry.. aah, fuck - I don’t want to force this.”

“Megumi-kun.” You manage to voice some of your lucidity like he has, the brunt of it closing in. He feels like he’s only deluding himself, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “Come here.”

“No,” He almost screams it. He wants too. But he can’t find his voice to speak to you like that. He hopes the urgency reaches you. “I’m sorry. Shit, shit—”

He doesn’t want to shatter the thing he’s so desperately protected - to ruin the relationship he’s felt so precious about so many years of his life. He doesn’t want it to happen this way. He can feel the self-loathing as he bites his tongue.

He’s dreamed of it so often, to touch you and kiss you and hold you. But at the hands of a curse feel so unfair.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is so soft - a salve to his nerves. A balm to ache of his whole life, calm and smooth and so kind. He burns so deeply he wants to scream. Your expression is somber but still assured. “It’s okay. It hurts right? So it’s fine.”

He closes his eyes. Such a pure despair. Fuck. Tears well up his vision. The pain is unbearable without you. Perhaps it’s always been that way.

“Please,”

A desperate attempt to no one to wake up from this.

“Megumi-kun,”

It’s the sound of your voice, calling his name so assuredly even in the face of death, that finally makes Megumi shatter. The heat overtakes him. Posesses his sense and forces him onto you like a lifeline.

He throws himself at you in the grass, almost knocking you back with the force of his body. Both hands clasp your face as he presses his lips with yours with nothing but desperation. It’s less of a kiss and more of crash landing. He can feel his own conflict stirring inside of him but the relief of your touch drowns out his surroundings. All else in the world becomes silent except the taste of your mouth and the feeling of your face. How much he’s longed to this very thing, dreamed of it. Years. Over a decade of his life hiding in your beautiful shadow.

You pull away from Megumi with a gasp and your face makes his entire body jolt. A flush dusts along your cheekbones as your hands reach for his shoulders. His head feels light. He can feel his cock twitch at the contact, suddenly gaining awareness of just how hard he is.

“Megumi-kun,” You sound so serious it jolts him awake. His eyes open wide as he watches you undress hastily. You’re stumbling in your movements as you take everything off as quickly as you can - grabbing Megumi by the collar as he sits stiffly. “Take it off. All of it. Now, please.”

At his wits end, he does. His hands tremble. His rational mind is fighting him at every gesture but his clothes feeling so constraining, binding him. His skin prickles, an itch skipping over his whole body as he takes everything off as fast as his hands allow. His vision is distorted from the heat. His uniform is sticky as he peels it off, drenched in sweat. He doesn’t see where they go, only feeling the relief as they come off his body. He looks for you unconsciously, immediately wanting to pull away from you as he finds you naked. The feeling is so primal it strikes fear in him. Another wave of unimaginable want pours over his skin like magma spilling across rock.

He can’t count how much time he’s spent shamefully wondering what you look like naked. You exceed his expectations just like always, unbearably gorgeous. Soft edges and curves, scars and stretch marks - so unfairly enticing to his senses. He groans at the sight of you, eyes lidded in unadulterated, carnal want as you crawl over to him.

Your hand pushes his shoulders back lightly towards the bed of grass underneath you both, until he’s flat on his back. He’s overwhelmed when you crawl on top of him. You’re fever-sick just like he is, and Megumi is sure that you’re in just as much pain.

But the face you make when you look like you want him is so fucking unfair.

You’re beautiful and tricky and cunning and Megumi wants and wants and wants. Wants so fucking bad he might die, wants you so bad the heat in his body threatens to kill him without you. He needs you to touch him. Needs to feel your pretty hands slide across his body and touch whatever you want.

You lean forward to kiss him again much harder then before. Desperation makes kissing feel so pleasurable, so good. You feel so damn good. His mind is a blank slate, your tongue carving his wants into, rewiring his conscious to pine after you until the end. Your lips are soft - pillowy and plush against his own despite how much the kiss feels like little more but tongue and teeth. He wants to forfeit it all for the sake of this lasting a little longer, just as he has his entire life.

Your existence a proof of his namesake - tongue and taste a blessing.

Your body is soft and hot against Megumi’s skin but together the temperature cools comfortable. It’s sensual how slippery the sweat makes your bodies as you rub against each other. A mutual oasis, your tits squish along his abs and chest as Megumi holds you tight. Each time your nippls brush, his cock floods with precum.

You slip your tongue into his mouth, and kiss Megumi sloppily. His cock pulses awake at the wetness, a strong wave of arousal backing him into a corner. Your pussy is barely hovering against his cock but Megumi strains. It gets pulled from him, an involuntary reaction. Cum spurts out of him, splashing up against your skin - dripping as it sticks to your pussy in hot spurts. He groans into your lips.

“Did you cum from us kissing?” You ask, your voice completely gone. It’s you but it’s not. It matters but it doesn’t.

He makes an affirmative noise and you giggle into his mouth, teeth bumping together as you kiss more. “Megumi-kun is cute.”

He’s still so painfully hard. Electricity flares through everyone of his nerves as he slides just barely against your cunt. Fuck. You’re so wet. It feels so good it makes Megumi want to buck his hips and be inside of you already. Impatience makes his grip on your hips tight. His brain feels like it’s weighted with lead. He’s losing himself, losing his fucking mind like this. You taste sweet against his tongue as you sink your pussy down and grind against his length. You’re throbbing so hard Megumi can feel every pulse, the desperate spasming of your sex approaching orgasm.

The filthiness of your arousal mixing together makes Megumi’s cock twitch against your clit hard. You moan loudly into his mouth and the sound sends him over edge, a life-time of pining make it hard to breathe as you take initiative and pleasure yourself with his body. He’s incredibly eager to allow you. Over and over, you slide your soft pussy over the length of his cock and balls - aimlessly covering it with slick, hips rutting and shivering with motion. Drools drips along the corners of your lips as you kiss him.

He already wants to cum again, wants to take you in such a primal way it makes him dizzy. He feels whole thinking about what it might feel to cum so deeply inside of you. He’s thought about before, but the thought holds so much more weight in the state of his fever.

But now it’s the only thing he wants. His teeth ache at the mere prospect. Of filling your pussy with his cum until it overflows and drips. Wants to see it pulse and push and spill and fuck it into you at your request. He wants to hear you praise him for it just like he always does, the desire much stronger than ever. Easier to admit in this curse induced sex.

You’re breathless as you orgasm above him, on top of him - sliding along his cock and soaking his lower half with stickiness of your pussy. You pull away from his mouth to laugh delightfully. He’s so hard. He wants you so much he doesn’t know how to express it other than kissing you desperately - still restraining himself.

It’s so much easier to catch his breathe now that you’ve both cum. Even painfully highstrung from the high with such a horrible temperature, something settles before it builds back up again.

The relief is burdensome almost.

“So we,” You’re breathless, more yourself and Megumi has never been happy yet so sad to see this glimpse of you again. “We both have to…haah.. cum. For the fever to slow...That’s something to work with.”

Your expression is more serious as you lean forward, sweaty forehead touching his. It’s you doing it, not the curse forcing you both and that makes his body react. “Megumi-kun. Everything will be okay.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t,” He screws his eyes shut hard. “I didn’t want this to happen. This is..”

He wants to say the worst possible outcome, but he doesn’t. You smile at him. “It’s okay because it’s you.”

Even in the middle of all of this, you manage to get his hopes up in the worst possible way. He can’t do anything but laugh at that, genuine exhaustion starting to make him lose sense. Another wave is coming quickly, steadily. Taking a serious look at his face, you hold him close to you.

“We’ll survive this. We’ve fought worse.”

“You’re comforting me at a time like this,”

You just smile at him. The heat spikes again, even more intensely than before and both of you stare at each other as the lust glosses over your expression. A pit forms in his stomach, the arousal spiking so high he chokes on it. You’re kissing again - no build up as you slide your tongue sloppily against his mouth and rub against his cock. It’s not enough this time, not even close. His chest is tight as he gasps the words against your mouth.

“Inside.” He breathes the word between kisses, spit and saliva dripping down the sides of his face. “Need to be inside. Please, shit. Please.”

“I want it inside.” You say and Megumi groans as your hands reach between your bodies - sticky from the mess. His cock twitches as soon as your hand wraps around the base of his shaft. You pump it twice as you sit up completely to get better accesses to it. The absence of your body makes him needy again.

Pre-cum dribbles pathetically from the tip as you guide his cock to your pussy. Without any prep at all, you lean back and slam your weight down onto him with full force. It slides with no resistance - as you take him all the way down to the base with complete ease. Your body collapses into a shiver when you take him inside. You both cum at exactly the same time, your pussy sucking him in with a vice-like grip as he shoots another load into you. Inside of you so deep he’s aroused all over again. His cock is still hard as he fills you - and you ride your mutual high out before another brief moment of sobriety takes you. He’s briefly sated as you pas back down against him, littering bites along his neck.

You smile at him when you pull back, suddenly lucid - bending down to meet his mouth in a kiss sober. He can feel himself blush as he joins you in the brief lucidity.

“Megumi, you’re so big.” You say with breathless laughter. He almost wants to scream he loves you but buries it immediately.

He groans. “I can’t believe you’re being like this given the situation.”

You hum pleasantly and Megumi feels his heart tug. The moment lingers to briefly before it’s interrupted again. It’s abrupt and makes you lean into his chest.

“You sorcerers are boring me to tears,” The curse starts again, making you both stand to alert almost immediately. “Don’t be so shy now.”

The Special Grade repeats the incantation of a technique.

Cursed Technique: Hidden Desires.

The air around Megumi changes suddenly. Instead of the lush oasis, he’s surrounded by a vague, all encompassing darkness similar to when he had been falling. He’s standing in it though he can’t see anything, not even himself. The fever has subsided despite him being inside the domain. Hidden Desires…from the speech the Special Grade went on earlier, he’s sure it’s related. He stands still, unsure of what to do before something appears in front of him.

A sphere of cursed energy, a memory of some kind - at the brush of his fingertips. Despite his attempt to retract his hand, an outside force makes him touch it.

Several emotions course through his entire body at one, passing through his mind steadily. He connects to your body, your cursed energy seeping into him as he touches whatevers in front of him. His skull throbs from the exposure of someone elses memories, the fever returning to his body one-thousand times hotter than normal. A life time breaches his mind but he doesn’t get to sift through any of it.

It comes to a sudden halt, and Megumi hears a whisper in his subconscious. He can’t make the words out properly.

Arousal spikes into his body as what seems to be your desire manifests in his head.

He does not know what reaction to have when memories and images of himself appear. Himself from your perspective, in perpetual motion - memories over the course of years crossed over with manifestations of your desires. All of it is him. Tied up, blindfolded, all other things. But him, always. Some visions are more tender than the rest. He can barely process the information, increasing stimulation making his brain fog once more.

Fever spikes through him again. Confusion, embarrassment, and uncertainty make his stomach flip. He remains cautionary and assumes it’s another trick of the light.He doesn’t get to recover when he’s thrust back into the domain in the same position he was before he left. You look just as confused when he comes back.

There’s not a moment to speak to each other, as the curse gets amplified ten-fold the minute he steps back into the domain. His entire body breaks out in a cherry red blush as arousal twists through his gut, curling up his neck. Claims his whole body all in on forceful gesture. The sensitivity is cranked so high, he can barely feel your hand your hand on his chest without his cock spilling pre-cum.

Furious lust overwhelms him as you lean forward and meet his mouth again. It feels different somehow, the kiss. You press your tongue against his lips as Megumi’s cock twitches inside you.

“Megumi-kun,” Your voice is shot. “Want you to fuck me. Fill me up. Be good and do it, okay? Fuck me so good,”

The words alone are enough to break him from his state of mind. He takes one more look at you after you’ve granted him permission before flipping you over onto your back. He shudders as you wrap your legs around his waist - hands on either side of your head staring down hard, as he positions himself as deep as he can go inside of your cunt. It’s indescribable, the sensation of needing to fuck you. He’s never been one to chase his base instincts like this unless it’s life or death - but it feels so fucking good to let go. It feels like life or death to sate you with hi cum. Megumi is used to sitting on his hands and playing at indifference, but right now you let him take and take and take. Your hands cup his cheeks, your expression hazy with pleasure. He drops his head down to your shoulders and fucks you with every ounce of strength in his waist - animalistic and desperate to scratch the skin deep itch. He bites into your shoulder as you hips slam, the sound of wet-skin slapping against each other ringing in his ears - cum frothing white at the base of his cock and dripping down your ass each time. He needs to cum again, until the heat subsides.

He barely gets a few thrusts in before his body strains in the familiar wake of an orgasm. The words to warn you come out choked as his hips slam against the backs of your thighs harder than ever- cumming inside of you again in what feels like seconds. It goes forever, balls emptying as he pumps his seed inside. You cum alongside him, at the same time - pussy throbbing hard around his shaft as he fills you with spend. It’s not enough, doesn’t give him the same relief this time. He needs more.

“Fuck that’s so good,” You praise making him groan. “You’re so good, baby - fuck, Megumi.”

You moan his name against his neck. Possession settles itself into his chest at the sound as you tell him to give you more, your hands on his ass to push his cock further into you. He fucks into you again - harder, faster, deeper - cumming every time. Pure adrenaline sends him careening down a cliffs edge, unspeakable fervor making it all but impossible to part from you. Scorching like the desert sun along his spine, a solar flare inside of his stomach as you cum together in constant motions.

He can’t stop fucking you. He can’t. His body wont allow him even a minute seperated from the euphoria of your swollen cunt sucking in him like it needs his cum more than anything in the world. His brain feels like liquid matter in his skull, thrashing uselessly when he tries to will himself away from you. Delirium drives his every movements as Megumi fucks his cock into you over and over and over.

You goad him with every thrust of hips - wrapped tight around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Praise bubbles from your mouth - champagne light against his skin but so impactful each time. His dick throbs every time you call him good, call him perfect as he fills you with his cum again and again and again.

“My perfect fucking boy. Fuck me, that’s it.”

It goes on like that for what feels like forever.

He loses track by the time the heat starts to subdue again. The curse still simmers under his skin but he finds grounding after unloading a few more times. By then, he can feel how much he’s cum in you and can’t help but blush. The hint of another wave tingles in the back of his head, and he can’t pull away from you without feeling sharp pain.

But he does sober again eventually. He waits for you to join him, and tries not to feel sick at the intimacy of it. He’s back to his senses enough to feel utter embarrassment.

Your voice is soft and exhausted. “Megumi-kun,” You’re so gentle to him. “What did you see?”

He knows what you mean immediately, sensing you must’ve seen the same thing. “I think it might be another illusion of the curse.”

“Why do you think that?”

He can feel his blush darken all over his body. “It was uh, me. In the technique. Tied up and uhm. Anyway. I thought it might be something to provoke the other party into sex.”

Your eyes go wide at the confession. “….Yours was me, too.”

Oh. He blinks. You look at him again, too suddenly - peering at him through your lashes.

“It wasn’t wrong,” You say. You seem scared, just a little. He’s never seen you like that before. “…If you saw yourself and some… kinkier stuff. It wasn’t wrong about that.”

His throat suddenly feels so dry.

“What was…what did you see?” He asks.

“It was me,” You say bashfully. “Mostly romantics and stuff. And some other stuff, but I don’t know if I should tell you, hehe.”

He finds the action mercifully. He wonders if this whole thing is made-up when it dawns on him. Some type of fantasy. Maybe he was the only one down here from the start - and that’s why everything has felt so alarmingly right.

Otherwise. Otherwise it would mean that you…

“Megumi-kun,”

He can’t breathe, but it’s for an entirely different reason. He wonders if he’ll die from his heart beating too fast.”Hm?”

A bated breath follows a sweet smile.

“Love you,” You mumble it against his mouth. The air is so vulnerable - more fragile than the wings of a dragonfly, more fragile than blown glass. “In that way….have for a long time. So long.”

His reply is reflexive.

“No you don’t,”

You pause before bursting out into giggles. So beautiful and clever. He loves you with painful devotion. “That’s your reply to my love confession?!”

“Shut up,” He hisses, though he can’t bring himself to make the words sound any meaner. He feels high.

“I love you, Megumi.” You say more clearly. Your eyes shine with familiarity he’s adored for years. Even with all the fog and haze surrounding you, they’re clear and gorgeous. “More than anyone else in the world, I think.”

He buries his face against your neck, struggling to get it out. He’s afraid to say it. Afraid if he confirms it that everything is going to collapse here. Like a dream that’s gone on too long. Megumi doesn’t want to wake up.

He wants more than anything, for all of it to be real - even if it means he ends here.

He won’t curse you after death, that way.

He can’t find his voice.

“Me too,” The weight of one thousand deaths, a thousand days of longing and loving and pining. It’s too burdensome to say. He’s afraid of what will happen to him - mind and soul, should he let himself admit what he kept so well-hidden. “I love you. You…”

When he manages to meet your gaze, your eyes are welled up with tears. He panics. “Don’t cry. Sorry,”

“You too. Don’t cry,”

“I’m not—“ His vision blurs. Damn it.

“I love you,” You say again and Megumi feels something inside of him mend. “I’ll say it as many times as you want.”

He doesn’t sense a fever this time. But he braves himself to kiss you one more time. It feels more intense than all else. He kisses you soft and slow, lets himself melt into your affectionate touch and gaze. There’s love behind it so obviously it makes him want to cry. He might really start sobbing, but he’s distracted by your mouth.

He feels boneless, throat tight.

“I don’t feel any fever.” You tell him when you pull away from him. He presses his forehead to yours. “I like kissing you.”

So embarrassing. “Yeah…”

“Let’s make love one more time.” You offer, and Megumi looks at you in disbelief. Just as always, you’re collected but ridiculous. It’s oddly comforting. Megumi wants to believe in you, so he does. “Just one more.”

The fever is no longer there, but the sensitivity is still strong in his body. Your mouths meet in a chorus of affection. Megumi is still hard, somehow. But he can feel everything much more clearly. Can understand the taste of your lips and the feeling of your pussy pulsing - that it’s for him and he feels so elated he wonders if it will ever go away. He kisses you gingerly and lets himself slide out as your hand goes to his nape.

“You’re so good to me, Megumi,” Your words make him ache. A whimper leaves his lips. “My beautiful boy. It must’ve been lonely, huh?”

“Yes,” His words meet a thrust, slow but deep. A communication of needs so raw he can barely show them to you without feeling shy. “So long. Loved you for so long.”

“Me too,” You mutter. The praise pierces his heart, suffocates him in such a euphoric feeling he can’t help but gasp at each reminder. “I love you so much, baby. And we’re gonna get out of here and be together, right?”

He feels his head fill with nothingness. Relief like cold air brushes along his skin. Like being bathed in cool water. You’re his cure - but that’s always been true. “Yeah. Please.”

“You can’t run away, okay?”

“I won’t,”

“Even though I want to monopolize you?”

He blushes but grunts with affirmation following another slow roll of his hips. “I want to be with you. Nothing else matters. A-and I didn’t hate it… or anything.”

You smile at him. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. It’s all he can come up with - watching your eyes crinkle in the corners with nothing but delight. “Mm.” You slide a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit soft as you moan a little. “Sensitive. Gonna cum soon.”

“Me too,”

He’s barely holding it together as is. It takes a little more to push him over the edge one last time. This orgasm feels different. Feels rooted in reality. The mutual pleasure grounds him completely, relieving his ailment despite the remaining hints of fever. He kisses you as he cums inside of you one last time, shuddering as you cum right alongside him. He whispers the words against your lips as you let go. He loves you.

The fever cools down. It takes a while for him to slip away from you after everything, but he manages.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, watching the cum leak out of you in embarrassment. You just laugh, patting his cheek.

“It’s okay, promise.” You stand to your feet as Megumi tries not to be self-conscious about the way it’s dripping down your thigh. “I can’t feel the presence of the Special Grade. It must be watching from somewhere inside the domain.”

“Yeah,” Megumi says, trying to find his clothes.”No idea how the curse broke. Maybe since we’re already curse users?”

You hum noncommittally. “Yeah. Let’s… clean up best we can and get outta here, yeah?”

Megumi smiles, soft and relieved. “Yeah.”

“Are you interested in hearing the details of the curse, my dearest Megumi-chan?”

Megumi grimaces.

“No. Why are you even here?”

Gojo-sensei feigns a look of offense that makes Megumi want to strangle him. He wants to go home and bathe properly already but there’s always a lot of hooplah with unregistered special grades. He’s relieved in one sense of the word, though it’s not like Gojo’s appearance made any difference since you two defeated the curse together and promptly passed out.

He woke up clothed, and not as sticky as he was during the fight. Apparently Gojo had found you both first and once you were awake, you cleaned him.

He sits on a tree stump in the forest nearby, his eyes flitting over to to you. You’re debriefing an archivist for Jujutsu when he catches your eye. His heart pounds, blushing at the happiness on your face.

He feels six-eyes on him and glares at Gojo, who’s currently hiding his mouth behind his hand.

“How long have we been out?”

“Mm,” Sensei holds up three fingers. “About three days? I only got here on the third and found you. I was here before, several years ago - for a related case. It took some time, but we fond information of the curse in one of the houses. Are you curious?”

He’s surprised for a minute, groaning right after. “Just tell me.”

“Special Grade Kuroyuri uses a technique called Fever, to induce what’s essentially heat - forcing all parties into extreme physical discomfort that can only be alleviated by sexual contact - no matter the party,” He spouts off, pretending to push his glasses up. Megumi frowns at him. “Fever works by inducing conditions related to inner desires and producing cursed energy that way. However, as a result, should two people experiencing Fever - be capable of sating the others desire deeply, they are able to break free from it. As the condition is vague and difficult to achieve, it’s very rarely met which is what has allowed the domain to get so strong.”

Megumi makes wide eyes. “So you’re saying…”

“Megumi-chan, the stairwell to adulthood and true love saved you! How wonderful!”

Megumi blushes as Gojo giggles, glaring at him. He should kill him someday.

Gojo-sensei pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “The painful years of pining were worth something Megumi-chan. To think your desires were so pure…”

“Shut up! I’m going to kill you!” Megumi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Do we have any idea why the curse was created?”

“Seems the cult worshipped cursed energy as a measure of human experience. A curse intending to induce more cursed energy as evidence of their belief. Something like that. The details are vague, but we’re still looking.”

Megumi sighs again. “Right. Thanks,”

He puts a hand on his shoulder as Megumi feels the exhaustion tamp down on him. He feels better and embarrassed as you pad over to him after you’re done.

“Megumi-kun,” You smile at him before nodding to Gojo-sensei. He smiles back.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,”

Megumi shoots one last glare at Gojo before looking towards you. You sit down beside him on the ground, resting your head on his lap in a way that makes his whole body break out into a blush. He’s happy though.

“I love you,”

“What are you saying?”

You look up at him. “Just want to make sure you know.”

He looks down at you from where you lay and frowns. “How could I not?” And then, a little softer. “…It’s mutual.”

You reach a hand towards his as you giggle to yourself. “That’s good.”

Megumi squeezes your hand and closes his eyes. Better than good, maybe.

PROLOGUE:

[ SEPTEMBER 4TH, 2018 | 4:45pm]

Megumi waits a while before going into the courtyard, hoping that you’ll move and practice elsewhere if he waits long enough.

He’s been sitting behind the wall for the last half-hour at least. No luck.

He feels bad about avoiding you, but it’s the only course of action he thinks helps both parties.

He doesn’t exactly like you. It’s easier to say he finds it difficult to get used to you is all. Your personality eludes him, and you remind a little too much of Sensei in how you act. Not to mention you’re already so strong. You get along well with everyone else, especially the other first years. You’re a nice girl so it’s obvious Kugisaki-san would favor you, and Itadori-kun can get along with basically everyone.

But you and him have been at odds since your arrival to the Tokyo branch months prior. Megumi can’t figure out how to bridge the gap between you, and finds it hard to force himself to like you. He doesn’t dislike you, either though. It’s not something he can put words too.

He feels guilty about it since you haven’t done anything to him to cause his discomfort. He just… doesn’t know what to do.

Lost in thought, he nearly jumps out of his skin as someone stands over him where he sits, casting shadow on him from above. He opens his eyes to see you standing over him, an unreadable look on his face.

“How long did you plan on waiting here, Fushiguro-san?”

Megumi stares up at you before frowning, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

You’re hard for him to read, though you’re smiling. You seem amused as you step back, allowing Megumi to stand up at full-height and glance at you.

“I don’t mind. I know you don’t want to train with me, but it’d be kind of pointless to try and find somewhere else so it’s better to just bear with it a bit.”

He stares at you. You smile knowingly.

“You’re surprised I know you were avoiding me?”

He nods.

“No offense Fushiguro-san, but it’s hard not to notice something like that when our grade is four people,” You’re a little smug but it’s not mal-intended, though it kinda pisses him off. “No hard feelings.”

You say that then sit next to him behind the wall. He stares at you feeling more uncomfortable - but can’t will himself to get up.

“What are you doing?”

You smile again.

“Messing with you,”

He stares at you. You stare back until you break out into laugher.

“Pfft, I’m sorry. I really am. You make it so obvious on your face when I make you mad..hah.”

“It’s that part of you I really don’t like.”

“Mm, yeah - thought so.” Your reply is nonplussed but not unkind. “You’re the moody, serious type. Sensitive.”

Megumi watches you shuffle through your deck of cards - the ones you’d been practicing with for the last few hours. You peruse through the thick boards of your Hanafuda deck, silently stacking them into different matching suits and using them with your cursed energy. Megumi watches on as you manifest different thing. He wants to ask you about it but can’t find the wil. You’re so strong, despite how you act. The strongest of the first years even outclassing him.

“It’s fine if you find me hard to be around, but don’t avoid me so blatantly.” You reason coolly. “It’s best we get along.”

“…Do you want me to get along with you?”

You laugh at that but he isn’t sure why. It’s nice.. the sound of your laugh when it’s sincere. This is the first time he’s ever properly talked to you, he realizes.

“Of course! I like getting along with everyone, even someone as brooding as you.”

“Why.”

“It’s good for my public image.” You say seriously. He deadpans as you perk up and laugh again. “Kidding, I’m kidding!”

“I’m going to leave.” He threatens flatly.

“Fine, fine. Do you want to know the real reason?”

“I don’t really care,” He responds. You smile at that.

“I’m more than happy to tell you,” You say, completely ignoring him. “Despite your various character flaws, I think Fushiguro-san is kind of innocent.”

“Huh?”

You smile warmly. “Your philosophy to only save people you think are good I thought was cute. It’s a very simple way to think about jujutsu. I like that part of you, I guess? You were raised with a lot of love, I think. Since it’s a difficult way to live.”

Megumi thinks of his life - thinks of Tsumiki and his sensei with some begrudging. He doesn’t know what else to ask you. He’s a little uncomfortable that you seem to know him so well with the little information you have.

“Why are you a sorcerer then?”

Megumi watches you stack your cards into a card house and collapse them, humming to yourself. You seem deep in thought for a while. The sunlight moves away from the clouds briefly, a beam of line brushing against your skin. Your lashes cast shadow on your cheeks. He’s never seen you so clearly.

You answer with utmost clarity and confidence - all shiny grin. “Ah, well why not, you know? Since I’m super talented.”

He stares at you, dumbfounded before the corners of his lips twitch. Somehow he understands you a little better than before, and he thinks that might’ve been what you wanted.

“You’re an idiot.”

Your grin goes even wider.

“Let’s be good friends, Fushiguro-san. Okay?”

“Sure,” He relaxes his back against the wall and shuts his eyes with a small laugh. “Why not.”

#fics for gaza #writing tag #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut #dubcon cw

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astralis-ortus · 5 months ago

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guess i missed you too much

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— that's what being in love does to you.

w.count → 1.2k genre → fluff warning → reader referred to as baby and my love, 2 (two) chatroom screenshots a.n → based on this request! ngl i was like '!!!' as soon as i read the request bc i can just imagine how it would go i'm—ㅠㅠㅠ also, i have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop—i would really appreciate it if you'd check it and help a girl out♡ ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

to put it simply, chan is dumbfounded.

he's pretty sure he had mentioned to both han and changbin that you're coming here, to seoul, in a exactly week and chan needs to have all the urgent project revisions to be done prior to your arrival. he's absolutely sure the two promised they will only be gone for a little while to get some coffee to wake them up, and chan is now certain that the two are definitely not only heading out to grab those goddamn coffee.

"if you two aren't back here in 5, just know this is your one and only warning," chan muttered through gritted teeth, trying his best not to sound too pissed before sending the voicenote in their '3racha only' groupchat.

it's not that chan didn't understand—he knows he's been pushing both changbin and han more than he usually does, and chan is very much aware that the duo are bound to be a bit more rebellious than usual once they reach their point of exhaustion, but he really is looking forward to the time he's about to spend with you, and he's not about to let anything come and ruin that.

it's been a while since you've last spent a considerable amount of time together with chan. sure, there are stolen dates here and there whenever a holiday would match up and you could take some time off to visit chan's version of paradise (which is unironically everywhere within the bounds of japan) together, but those visits always ends as quickly as it starts and left the two of you with a longer list of regrets by the time you had to let your hands slip away from chan' warmth.

so this time, when you finally were able put your responsibilities on rest for two whole weeks, it didn't take much of a convincing for either you or chan to finalize the dates when you would finally be able to be within each other's reach. chan even went the extra mile to immediately book your flight coming in, though you had to basically threaten him with no video calls for a week if he went through with his other plans to spoil you rotten.

well, you could only hope that chan won't pull any uno reverse card on you once this plan came to an end.

a bell sound from his phone quickly distracts chan from the lines of lyrics he's trying to edit—an action he came to regret when the notification in view were merely a singular line of emojis sent by changbin, consisting of the same teasing faces and a pink ribbon both changbin and han been sending chan for days now on end.

"oh, he's done," chan groaned, head tilted back in annoyance as he threw his poor beanie back at the sofa where changbin was supposed to be seated right now. to be frank, chan didn't understand what changbin has been implying with the string of emojis at all. presumably changbin and han had seen the way chan saved your kakao talk profile—hence the pink ribbon, but why now? exactly when chan's the most sensitive of the topic? the fact that chan couldn't contact you drives him even crazier—you had told him you haven't been feeling well and you'd text him again once you feel better, but that was like, what, an eternity ago? chan didn't want the risk of waking you up either especially with your trip coming up, so…

he's basically helpless.

another set of annoyed groan became chan's initial response when his phone came alive with a new notification. reluctantly grabbing the device, chan was mentally prepared for a text bubble sent by the youngest of the three, containing of the same string of emojis changbin had just sent—only for his heart to jump out of his chest when he saw the pink ribbon next to your name.

before chan could type another reply, his attention were robbed by the knocks on his studio door—which is a little weird considering neither han or changbin would bother, and the fact that it's nearly midnight meant that almost no one that chan knows of should be looking for him around this time of night.

"manager hyung?" chan cautiously called out, instinctively grabbing his discarded beanie before he went to reach for the door. "did you leave something? or are you—"

the words on chan's tongue dissipates soon after the door swung open—but even with the way his eyes just doubled in size, chan still couldn't believe what he's currently seeing right in front of him now.

"hi, my channie," you finally spoke, a wide grin decorating your lightly flushed face from all the adrenaline you've been feeling; and only then, chan seems to wake up from his trance.

"wha—baby?" chan could hear how voice had skipped an octave higher, but he couldn't care less—did he fell asleep? is this a dream? chan had to pinch himself before he even pulled you in his arms, tightly wrapping the giggling mess that you are in his warmth. "you're actually here? wasn't your flight next week? did i got the dates wrong? how—"

"whoa whoa, calm down there, racer," you quickly stopped your boyfriend's wild train of questions, still with your smile plastered across the span of your face—your plan is a massive success.

"it was supposed to be next week," you confirmed, eyes still taking in chan's perplexed face while your brain etched the memory in its hall of fame, "but i miss my boyfriend too much to wait another week, so… i asked for bin and jisung's help to change my plane ticket!"

suddenly, everything that's been happening to chan in the past week just clicked—the time he caught changbin and han meddling with his laptop, the nervous chuckles, the way they become way to secretive with their phones, the phone calls, and those lines of goddamn emojis. it all finally makes sense.

"is that so?" chan shook his head despite the clear view of his dimpled smile, arms tightening around your waist, "so you three little naughty being has been cooking up plans behind my back, that's what you're saying?"

the sound of your sweet laugh fills chan with an overwhelming sense of warmth— you might spend the majority of your year apart from each other, but for chan, it's moment like this that makes all the dark nights of longing seem worth to be worth his patience.

after all, you're everthing chan ever wanted in his life.

"my my," clicking his tongue in faux disappointment, chan gently fixed the strands of hair falling over your eyes—ones ever so tender whenever you fixed your gaze on him, "what am i gonna do with you, hm? you naughty little baby?"

"not sure," you cheekily replied, lightly scrunching your nose the way chan usually does. you're just happy that you're finally in chan's arms again, to hell with any of the 'repercussions' chan might be building in his head for your little misdemeanor.

"but can you kiss me first?" you continued, trying your best to stay nonchalant despite the sudden spike of your heartbeat due to your own silly attempt at being witty and chan's surprised laugh, "i think i need my boyfriend's kiss so i could face my punishments later."

frankly, chan's head is still plagued with tons after tons of questions of your little successful stunt—he can't help it, you're someone he love and cares about after all,

but who is he to deny your sweet little plea?

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

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trappolia · 5 months ago

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caitvi with a girlfriend who loves shopping a little too much.

even disregarding vi's upbringing, her personality and priorities don't exactly call for her to fawn over the latest fashion trends. dolls and trinkets and other collectible items are something she can't grasp either. she has her emotional support bunny, what else could she want?

caitlyn may be of a more prestigious upbringing than either of you, but her status as a piltovian scion has also granted her the privilege of realising that not all fineries are exactly comfortable, or even necessary. she has more clothes in her closet that she knows what to do with, some of the styles are which are just a bit too… much for her. she has her own style and preferences, and she very much prefers to stick to them.

you, on the other hand, are completely different from your two lovers. raised in that space between the "best" of the undercity and the "worst" of topside, you were that little girl all bright-eyed and dreaming of wearing princess gowns, satiated only by your parent's promises of "we'll get you those pretty dresses when we have some extra money, my love."

you never did, really— get that extra money, you mean. it was never your family's fault, of course. even when you lived so close to the bridge, you were still considered to be citizens of the undercity, and life was hard. you learned to put your craving for designer clothes on the backburner, learned your way around a needle and a thread to fashion your own image of your wardrobe— and, later when you meet vi, to patch up the tears on her clothes.

vi is a darling girlfriend, who rebuffs your attempts to dress her up with gifts of fabric bought with the coin from her own pockets. she wants to give you more, she truly does, but prices for proper rolls of fabric are steep and hard to come by down in the undercity. it's not until caitlyn comes along, with the extra money to fund an entire wardrobe for you and then some, that your dreams as a child are finally come true, with not just one, but two generous girlfriends to boot.

caitlyn may not know the ins and outs of the fashion district of piltover, but her family has a private tailor that caitlyn commissions much more often when you and vi finally move into the kiramman estate. the two women are often content enough to sit back and watch as you fawn over the designs offered to you, occasionally giving input to the designer; cait sometimes recommends certain fabrics that she thinks will move about your frame much more smoothly, and vi learns to give in her five cents whenever she has something she'd like to see you in.

they even indulge you when you huff and puff about "window shopping being a part of the experience!" the fashion district becomes a common part of your dates together, and the three of you make quite a sight: the leader of house kiramman looking fond as she points out her mother's favourite shop to you, while vi balances an absurd amount of shopping bags in one hand, the other wrapped firmly around your waist.

it's never actually acknowledged, but watching you show off your pretty little outfits becomes the staple of caitlyn and vi's day. whether you've returned from an impromptu shopping trip and want to show them your latest purchases or they've just woken up and you want them to give their five cents on your outfit choices for the day, it brings them so much joy to watch you twirl around like a little princess— just like your dream come true.

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babyleostuff · 7 months ago

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― BROKEN CAMERAS

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domestic vibes, absolutely whipped kim mingyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 1.2k

⦗💌 ⦘in which your little girl wants to take a picture of you and mingyu but drops the camera she stole from him in the process

„i was thinking,” mingyu murmured into your hair and turned the volume of the tv down, „that we could go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. since i don’t have any schedules, y’know.”

you peeled your eyes from the screen and looked up at your husband from where your head was resting on his chest and nodded immediately, as if you’d ever say no to a day out with him and your daughter. „sounds perfect,” you sighed happily and fixed the blanket that mingyu wrapped you in some time ago. „maybe we’ll manage to find some vintage frames to match those in the living room.”

he hummed and brushed his nose against your cheek. „just… this time we have to avoid the section where they keep the plushies.”

ah yes, the plushies.

your little girl’s current hyperfixation and your husband’s cause of nightmares. not that you minded, there was something endearing in a 6 foot something man sitting in a circle of bears and unicorns drinking tea from a miniature teacup.

you smirked and lifted your head. „but she’ll be devastated, honey,” you fake-pouted.

she wouldn’t though, not really. your little girl has had her dad wrapped around her little finger since day one and she was a very smart kid, so figuring out how to get her dad to do anything for her wasn’t that difficult. she’s had the puppy-eyes technique figured out for a long time now, which… she used a lot to her advantage.

mingyu groaned and lowered his head, bumping it against your shoulder. „there’s literally no room left in her bedroom. last night, when i was kissing her goodnight, i tripped over at least three of them!” he whined.

that was very much true. you spent fifteen minutes this morning trying to find one of her shoes amongst the mess of unicorns of all shapes and sizes, and all you found in the end was a sock that you had been looking for for the past month. it didn’t help that soonyoug bought her tiger plushies every other week, not to mention seungcheol who loved spending his money on your daughter for some reason.

but you couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh at your husband wholeheartedly. „gyu, you’re capable of tripping over air, it doesn’t count in your case,” you giggled and ran your fingers through his messy hair, pushing back the few curly strands that fell over his eyes. “besides, she’ll find a way to get those plushies either way. it’s not like you’ll ever say no to her.”

you could feel your husband’s pouty lips against your collarbone as he said, “you’re right. but it’s unfair that mr.unicorn gets all the cuddles now. even that ugly monkey that looks like it had been through a car crash and a bad lip injection is more loved than i am.”

heavens, sometimes you wondered who the real baby in your family was.

“gyu, listen to me,” you took his face in your hands and peeled him away from you, “stop overreacting-,”.

“but what if she’s all grown up now and won’t-,”.

“she’s three, kim mingyu. besides, she loves you, you dumbass,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, though that didn’t seem to convince him. “she’s a daddy’s girl, okay? trust me, i am the one who should be complaining about the lack of cuddles,” you said and smoothed the crease between his brows.

“if you say so,” he sighed, and nuzzled his cheek into your hand. “but-,”.

suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard a loud bang behind you, like something fell and... glass broke? mingyu being mingyu, almost fell off the couch, but you were quick to turn around to inspect where the sound came from.

and your heart almost broke when you saw what, or rather who, was standing behind the couch.

"oh, honey," you cooed.

your little girl was standing in the middle of the room, clad in her pink nightgown mingyu had bought her on one of his trips abroad, only instead of the bright smile that always graced her face, there were tears in her gorgeous, brown eyes.

"what the?" your husband murmured next to you. “is that my camera?”

your daughter’s eyes widened in panic as she looked at him. “‘m sorry, daddy,” her voice wobbled in the most heartbreaking way possible. the little girl’s tiny hands were clutching onto the neck strap that was supposed to be connected to the camera. “didn’ mean,” she sniffled, “to break it,” she said and the first tears started rolling down her puffy cheeks.

you quickly untangled your limbs from the blanket but before you could get up, mingyu put his hand on your thigh. “no, no, no,” he almost tripped from how fast he got up from the couch. “it wasn’t your fault, princess.”

you thanked whatever grace that your daughter was smart enough not to move because the floor around her was litreed in small glass shards and you weren’t sure what you and mingyu would do if anything happened to her.

not even a second later, he was at her side, picking up her small body and engulfing her in his big arms.

“don’ be angry, daddy,” your baby cried into mingyu's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.

mingyu shook his head and turned around to face you with a heartbreakingly sad expression. “i’m not angry, baby. i was just scared,” he murmured. “daddy thought you hurt yourself.”

you waved for them to come over to where you were sitting and muttered a quiet “come here”.

your husband placed your daughter on his lap, her head pressed against his chest, on the same spot where yours was just a minute ago. her tiny fists were pressed against his naked tummy as she continued to sniffle quietly.

wiping every tear that escaped her eyes you started to hum one of the lullababies mingyu used to sing to her when she was a newborn, something you still did when she was upset. your husband was stroking her hair the whole time, rocking her back and forth, as you continued to hum quietly.

“why did you take my camera, sweetheart?” mingyu asked after a while, when her breathing calmed down a bit.

“i woke up,” she said, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. “and i saw you n’ mommy sittin’ and i wan’ to take picture. like you always take of me n’ mommy.”

mingyu’s own eyes welled up with tears and he quickly tucked her head back to his chest so she wouldn’t see him upset.

“oh, baby,” you whispered quietly, though you weren’t sure who needed more comforting at that point. “that’s so sweet, but next time ask me or daddy for help, okay? you could’ve seriously injured yourself.”

your baby girl nodded and she scrambled off mingyu’s lap to throw herself in your embrace instead. well, it was nice to know that the unicorns and your husband hadn’t replaced you completely yet.

“what do you say we go and grab a camera together, hm?” he asked. “and we can do a whole photoshoot, we can even make a white background with the sheets.”

“pink. pink sheets,” she said and clapped her hands. it seemed that you and mingyu breathed a sigh of relief that your daughter was back to her normal, bubbly self.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot @iamawkwardandshy @icyminghao @heeseungthel0ml @goyangiiwonu @bath1lda @ruurooozz @ny0sang @luuxian @onerubii @hurrican3-insert-nam3 @mekuiikore @luvseungcheol @thenotoriousegg @yuuyeonie @soffiyuhh @svtficsarchive @hyperdramas @huen1ngk41 @lesuneczka @oc3anfloor @gyuguys @fr-freak @bewoyewo

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lustspren · 30 days ago

Text

D.A | NEW MAGIC WAND

Male reader x Sohyun

word count: 5.2k

tags: the wolf ears are still on, i couldn't find a decent picture of her with that outfit so there's a gif, she's lowkey upset

🔙 Previous update | 📄 NEW MAGIC WAND

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"Rory, honey, I've told you a thousand times that you can't come with me to Italy," you told your cat, who was lying inside your empty suitcase, staring at you. "You have to stay here taking care of Helios. And Sohyun will take care of both of you."

Of course, the rebellious kitten didn't listen to you. You didn't blame her. Whenever you were going to be away from home for a while, she sensed it and acted that way, as if trying to convince you to either stay or take her with you. A touch of yours under her chin made her rub her head against your hand. She was too cute to scold.

"Okay, you can stay there for a bit," you relented, standing up. "But only until I finish folding my clothes."

You were inside your walking closet, packing all the clothes you were going to take on your three-week trip to Europe. It wasn't a vacation, by any means; your plans included some IRL streams, and you'd also contacted one of your friends in Milan to buy you a computer so you could settle in comfortably and do your usual streams.

But the reason was that, for the first time, you were traveling to your hometown for business, as the new official ambassador for Prada, no less.

When the offer arrived in your email last month, you couldn't believe it. A streamer being an ambassador for an Italian haute couture brand? It sounded ridiculous. Unnatural. People in your profession didn't usually venture into that world; it was like water and oil. But when you thought about it with a cool head and looking back, it made perfect sense.

For starters, you were Italian. It might not seem like it, but it was a plus. Second, you were at the peak of your popularity and constantly on the rise (you had recently reached 10 million followers on Instagram and had close to 2 million followers on Twitch), with an audience that, while mostly casual, you knew many appreciated your tastes as much as you did. Third, your Instagram was like that of a model, since you loved fashion and your photos were perfect. And fourth, but not least, you were devoted to art. In general. You constantly talked about music, literature, films, and even painting. Besides, you already had successful collaborations in that field, such as your speaker line with Sony or your recent commercials with Sennheiser and Samsung.

So yes, you had earned that with blood, sweat, and tears. You deserved it more than anyone. Maybe your profession and the way you constantly made a fool of yourself in front of a camera didn't make much sense with that direction of your life. But the real you certainly did. The man with dreams and aspirations.

On the other hand, that trip also meant you'd see and be with the two women who ruled your world. Rina was also attending Milan Fashion Week as a Prada ambassador, and Wony was attending Paris Fashion Week as a Miu Miu ambassador. You, now a Prada ambassador, had also been appointed as a friend of the house, so you were invited to attend as well.

However, before going to Milan, you had to make a little ‘touristy’ stop in Florence, the birthplace of the Renaissance. At first it wasn't in your plans, but a certain Aussie girl with the same taste as you for art and fashion had told you she wanted to go there to have a little fun and get to know the city. And in her words, who better than you to be her tour guide? You had done the same thing last year, when in a fit of extravagance, you, her, Hanni, and Minji went to Rome. The thing is, of course, those two nights had been... eventful, to say the least.

Dani was scheduled to arrive a day after you, which was perfect, as it gave you time to book a nice place for the two of you and make a little itinerary to offer her when she arrived. Your flight was in two days, and there you were, deciding what the hell to pack from all the clothes in your closet, which wasn't exactly a small amount. In fact, you had a feeling you were going to need an extra suitcase. What a pain in the ass.

The sound of a call on your phone made you shift your attention away from your clothes for a moment. When you took it out of your pocket, you saw it was Sohyun. You answered it and brought the phone to your ear.

"Hi Nup..."

"Are you home?!" Sohyun said on the other end of the line. She sounded upset.

"Uhm... are you okay?"

"Are you home or not?!" she insisted. You rarely heard her like that. It sounded like she was talking through gritted teeth.

"Y-yeah, but I'm a little..." you looked down at your folded clothes.

"I don't care! I'm on my way!"

Then she hung up on you. You stared blankly, still holding the phone to your ear, not understanding what the hell had just happened. Sohyun had a fansign today, from what you understood. Had she already left? Was she mad at you? It wouldn't be the first time; sometimes she behaved like your mother, and loved to scold you for every little thing. But no, you had the feeling it was something else. The approach wasn't the same. A theory circulated in your mind based on past experiences, but you hoped you were wrong.

While waiting for Sohyun to arrive, you continued pulling clothes out of your closet: trousers, t-shirts, coats, and just about anything else you liked. It was a selective and meticulous process, since you liked almost everything, and it was like choosing between all your children at once. In the end, you thought you'd made a good selection, but the process of starting to put things in the suitcase was interrupted by the ringing of your apartment doorbell.

Praying to all the apostles, you went outside and then to the door. As you opened it, a pair of berry balm-flavored lips crashed against yours before you could say anything. Sohyun had your face cradled in her hands and forced you back inside. You instinctively grabbed her waist, exposed that day by the outfit she was wearing. She closed the door behind her with her foot and pulled away to look you in the eyes.

"I hate that damn bitch! Ugh!" Sohyun growled, and without giving you a chance to speak, she kissed you again fiercely, using her tongue to attack yours.

The theory circulating in your mind, unfortunately, turned out to be true. ‘That damn bitch’ was Xinyu. Who knows what the hell she's done now?

Sohyun stumbled forward with you, causing your lower back to hit the edge of your kitchen island. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pressing her firmly against you. Her big tits pressed against your chest. She was breathing hard and deep, either very horny or very angry. Maybe both.

"Nupy, what the fuck is going on...?" you managed to mutter, but Sohyun didn't respond. Instead, she lowered one hand to your cock and gave it a firm squeeze through your fleece shorts before massaging it, knowing you'd get hard in no time. In response, you lowered both hands to her cute, firm ass and squeezed it. Those jeans definitely did justice to that beautiful piece of cake.

When Sohyun felt the outline of your hard cock beneath her hand, she pulled away and took your hand, pulling you with her across the apartment, toward the living room, taking brisk, swift strides.

"Sohyun-ah..." you looked at her from behind, sensing that she was about to explode with anger. No answers again. She was so angry that she didn't even take off her wolf ears. They looked so damn hot on her, though.

As you arrived in front of the main couch, Sohyun sat right in the middle and pulled you down by your hoodie. She didn't move you, but from the way she glared at you, you knew she wanted you to kneel. You did, and while you opened your knees slightly to lower yourself further, Sohyun quickly worked on her jeans, pulling them and her panties off her legs after taking off her shoes. Then she spread her legs, sat further on the edge of the couch, grabbed your hair, and pulled you straight towards her pretty, freshly shaved, and noticeably wet pussy.

"Mmgh..." Sohyun groaned as you stuck out your tongue and began to eat that silky, tender flesh, delicious to your taste buds.

It was strange that Sohyun would grab your hair like that. Her fingers were tangled and gripped in strands of your hair, at scalp level to make it tight. She wasn't going to let you catch a break. She didn't seem to care. When you looked up seconds later, you noticed her eyes closed, stifling moans against her puckered lips. Chances were she was sexually frustrated by something the Chinese princess had done. Poor thing.

But if your best friend needed relief, you were happy to give it to her. Especially when her pussy was so delicious, and her thighs so soft and creamy, and her face so stupidly sexy when she was horny. Hell, even those damn wolf ears were a gigantic plus that were turning you on just as much as she was.

Knowing that doing a good job would be rewarded, you put your subby skills to the test and let Sohyun do whatever she wanted with you while you ate her out. Did she pull you too hard? It was nothing. Pale, fleshy thighs now squishing into your head on both sides, making you question how much oxygen you really needed to live? You were thrilled by it.

Sohyun moaned louder, still with her eyes closed, constantly pulling you against her pussy. Her thighs had you deafened, both pressing hard, and her hips bucked up and down, grinding against your mouth and nose as you moved your tongue in ways you didn't even know you were capable of. Seconds later, her moans grew higher and longer. Until, suddenly, she lifted her hips and exploded into your mouth.

"Mmmgh, yes!" Sohyun whimpered, trembling. Her thighs were about to crush your head like a soft watermelon. "Fuck yesss!!"

Her pussy dripped with those delicious juices that your tongue collected, while you felt your scalp teetering on the fine line between staying in place and being ripped off. You were gripping her thighs, which were tense and trembling until the moment they released your head.

As soon as you moved away from her pussy, Sohyun grabbed the collar of your hoodie and pulled it up.

"Come here," Sohyun urged, her cheeks flushed and her mouth slightly ajar.

You stood up and sat on the couch, sinking as deep into the seat as possible. At the same time, Sohyun stood between your knees, yanking your fleece shorts and boxers off in one fell swoop. Then she straddled you, planted her feet on the couch, and grabbed your throbbing cock to slowly impale herself on it.

"Oh fuck..." Sohyun groaned, her hands on your abdomen beneath your hoodie as she took every inch of your cock inside her. "Just what I needed."

When she completely lowered herself and your shaft disappeared inside her pussy, you both moaned, you a little louder than her, perhaps. Her walls felt soft and overwhelmingly warm, hugging your cock from every direction and driving you crazy with the sensation. You placed your hands under her thighs, and Sohyun moved her hands up to clasp her ten fingers around your neck and begin moving them up and down.

"Do you like how that feels?" Sohyun asked through gritted teeth, squeezing her fingers in a way that was uncharacteristic of hers. She was usually quite dominant when you two fucked, but not like that. It didn't bother you either. "Do you like it, bitch?"

What the fuck. Never in your entire friendship had she ever called you that, not even when she was mad at you. It was almost as if she were talking to...

Jesus Christ. What did Xinyu do?

"Y-yes," you managed with a nod, even though Sohyun was squeezing hard enough that your words didn't come out so easily. "I fucking love it."

"Oh yeah? What if I go harder?" Sohyun did, making the acoustic space of the apartment fill with clapping sounds as she bounced faster on your cock. "What if I leave you with pelvic pain? Wouldn't that bother you?"

You wanted to say no in the slightest, but you couldn't speak. Sohyun had you pinned, silent, and giving you a ride that was leaving you breathless. You didn't even remember that you were supposed to be able to use your hands, and that you had them still under her thighs. So you raised them a bit and gripped those firm buttocks as they slammed into you.

"God, this cock feels so good," Sohyun groaned, dropping her head back. She let go of your neck to place her hands on your chest. "So good!!"

Sohyun gave a sudden downward thrust and ground against you the moment she came, in a series of violent tremors in her lower body that made you think she was going to disassemble like a LEGO brick. Her squeals echoed through the quiet living room, delighting your ears.

"Fuck," Sohyun moaned, and leaned forward to cup your face in her hands and kiss you. "Give me more, give me more!" she whimpered against your lips.

No visible exhaustion from her recent orgasm, Sohyun continued bouncing on your cock, somehow going even harder now and making you think that leaving you with pelvic pain wasn't even a joke. You moved your hands to her waist, moaning against her lips between deep breaths, trying not to run out of air with each slam of her ass against you.

Sohyun came again not long after, sinking her teeth into your lower lip as she bounced slowly but strongly. She held your face firmly, holding it still so she could kiss you comfortably and muffle her moans against your lips. When her orgasm passed, she straightened, got off you, and knelt beside you to take your cock in her hand and begin to stroke it rapidly.

"Cum, you little whore," Sohyun hissed, staring into your eyes with fire behind her gaze.

"S-Sohyun?" You frowned, confused, but strangely too horny to give it much thought.

"Didn't you hear me or something?" Sohyun raised an eyebrow, jerking you off furiously. "I said cum."

Like a submissive little bitch, you started to moan, clenching your buttocks and lifting your hips slightly. Sohyun wouldn't let you take your eyes off her, and you didn't even dare try to infuriate her more than she already was. So, with your eyes on hers, it took you a little less than a minute to cum all over her hand. But she kept going.

"S-Sohyun!" You writhed desperately as Sohyun overstimulated you, making your cock hurt like hell itself. "Stop! P-Please! Sohyun-ah!!"

Sohyun abruptly released your cock, and you were finally able to relax your hips and buttocks. Her hand was covered in your cum, and the rest had fallen on your lower abdomen and pubic area. A mess she took care of by bending forward to clean every wet area with her tongue, collecting your load in her mouth. You wanted her to suck your cock, but she ignored it and sat back on her heels, now licking her hand, an image that, combined with those damn wolf ears, drove you crazy.

You jumped up and pushed Sohyun back. She fell back across the couch, and you quickly got on top of her. Sohyun frowned and tried to wriggle away, but you grabbed her hands and pulled them above her head. After a little struggle, she stayed still. She was looking at you like she wanted to kill you, but still.

"Calm the fuck down, Park Sohyun," you said, looking into her eyes. Your crotches were touching, but that wasn't the point. "I'm serious."

"Don't tell me to...!" Sohyun tried to protest, but you leaned a little closer to glare at her. "Ugh!!" she growled, frustrated, and finally looked away.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or what?" You raised an eyebrow.

Sohyun's gaze blazed again, perhaps having remembered why she was there in the first place. But she wasn't looking at you like you were the scapegoat anymore.

"It's just that bitch crossed the damn line this time!" Sohyun squealed. You were supposed to take her seriously, but now those wolf ears were melting your heart. "You know how she is. One day she says she loves me, the next day she barely seems to care about me, it's so fucking confusing!"

"So...?" You urged her to continue, slowly letting go of her wrists since you knew she had calmed down.

"This morning she promised me we'd spend time together. In private. And she teased me like only she knows how all day long. All for what? So she could act distant right after the fan meeting, as if I had to beg on my knees for her damn attention!"

"And you did it, didn't you?"

"Of course I did! You know I'm weak for her."

"Aha."

"When I finally got her damn attention, we kissed," Sohyun continued, while you fixed her wolf ears on her head and smoothed down her hair. "And that bitch turned me on in less than ten seconds with her damn groping!"

"And she walked away, saying it wasn't the time and she had to do something?"

"Exactly fucking that! Ugh!"

Sohyun slammed her hand on the couch, and suddenly her eyes filled with tears. A drop fell down her cheek as her pouting lips trembled.

"No, silly, please don't cry," You cupped her cheek with your hand and wiped her tears away with your thumb. "Hey, do you want me to make you something delicious to eat? Whatever you want."

"No..." Sohyun gently shook her head. "Just cuddle me, okay?"

"Aight. Shall I get you your pants? Or do you want some of my shorts?"

"Just cuddle me like this, Ezio."

Sohyun shifted onto her side, leaving you a space between her and the back of the couch you took. You slipped your right arm under her head and wrapped your other arm around her voluptuous body to snuggle her back against your chest. Her ass was pressed against your cock, which, against your will, became rock hard again within a few minutes. Rather than being annoyed, Sohyun enjoyed it and pushed her hips back to make the contact even tighter.

"Hey, I'm just supposed to cuddle you," you said softly, your face buried in the back of her neck. "What are you doing?"

"Letting you cuddle me," Sohyun replied. "But I never said you couldn't fuck me while cuddling me."

"Do you want to...?"

"We're already naked from the waist down. We have nothing to lose."

Perfect, then. There was no way you could deny your baby wolf what she wanted, especially when what she needed was your cuddles and affection. So, after grabbing your cock, you guided it between her buttocks and rubbed it against her folds a few times before taking every inch inside her, in a single smooth motion that made her moan and grip your right forearm.

Sohyun twisted her hips slightly, making sure you were as deep inside her as possible. Her warm pussy made you moan again. You moved your left hand from her waist to one of her breasts, squeezing it over her long-sleeved crop top as you began to slowly pump your hips.

"Time to take this off, huh?" you asked in her ear, referring to her top. "It's already bothering me."

"Help me then," Sohyun gasped, and propped herself up on one elbow as you lifted the long-sleeved top over her body and off her arms. Underneath, she was still wearing a tight tank top, which you also removed, leaving her in a beige bra that was the last piece to fall to the floor before revealing those soft, perfect tits.

With Sohyun now completely naked—except for her wolf ears. They were essential—you took off the scarlet hoodie you were wearing to be on equal terms with her. Then you buried your face in the side of her neck, peppering it with wet, sensual kisses complemented by equally sensual hip movements that drove every inch of your shaft in and out of her pussy.

Sohyun took your hand and brought it to her breast for you to squeeze and massage. With your right arm, you held her close to you, gradually building up to a rhythm that wasn't too strong, but fast enough to make her body jiggle with each pump. She turned her head in search of your lips, and when they met, you kissed again.

After a few seconds, you couldn't help but go faster and faster, your left hand on Sohyun's waist and your right hand across her collarbone, squeezing both of her tits. Sohyun muffled moans against your lips, holding onto your wrist and the back of your neck until she thrust her hips back and came, fucking herself against your cock as her muscles contracted and trembled. You held her close the whole time, holding her against you to feel the warmth of each other's bodies as much as possible.

"Enough cuddling, you'll do it later," Sohyun moaned into the kiss. "Fuck me from behind."

You pulled out of her and knelt as she positioned herself on her hands and knees. From behind, the view of her with those wolf ears was even better than you'd thought. Sohyun parted her knees and arched her back, stretching her arms out in front of her head to look at you over her shoulder. She bit her lip and frowned as you thrust back into her pussy.

Holding onto her waist with both hands, you continued to move your hips at a strong, steady pace. Sohyun grabbed a pillow and hugged it beneath her head, moaning against it. You squeezed both of her buttocks and moved your hands up her back to rest on the nape of her neck, leaning forward to press her head against the pillow. Inevitably, she ended up lowering her hips, remaining in a prone bone position until she came again.

As her thighs trembled and she moaned against the pillow, you lowered yourself toward her and covered her with your upper body, then grabbed her chin and made her look at you.

"Feeling better?" you asked, looking into her teary eyes.

"Not until you cum too," Sohyun replied.

"Why?"

"Because it makes me feel good that you feel good too," her expression changed. "Wait a minute, have you had dinner?"

You chuckled and kissed her forehead.

"No, I haven't had dinner, Nupy," you shook your head. "After this we can order food if you want. I don't feel like cooking right now."

"Sounds good to me," she nodded.

That matter settled, you pulled out of her and had her lie on her back to continue fucking her pussy, with her left thigh pressed against her body with your hand and her other leg resting against the back of the couch. Now you were making her tits bounce. Sohyun took the pillow from under her head and placed it over her mouth to bite it, watching you pound her. You leaned forward again, your hands on either side of her head and your body holding her thigh in position.

Sohyun came one last time, but as you too felt yourself on the verge of climax, you continued fucking her through her orgasm. Seconds later, you quickly pulled out of her, straddled her body, and grabbed the back of her head to press the tip of your cock against her tongue, masturbating until you exploded inside her mouth.

Sohyun closed her lips around your cock as you unloaded inside her, your hands on either side of her head, careful not to knock her wolf ears off. She took every drop, and you watched as her throat forced each spurt down until there was nothing left in your balls.

After your climax had passed, you pulled out of her mouth and gently grabbed her chin.

"And now?" you gasped. "Better?"

Sohyun wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and leaned her head back onto the pillow. She crossed her hands over her chest.

"Much better," she nodded and looked up at the ceiling. "I still don't want to see her damn face, but I guess that won't go away for a while."

"I don't blame you." You reached to your left and took your phone out of your shorts pocket on the floor, then lay down next to Sohyun. She shifted onto her side to curl up against you with her arms in front of her. "What do you want to eat?"

"Hmmm," Sohyun looked at the contents of Baemin's app, where you always ordered food. "Fried chicken?"

"Aight."

You placed the order with her in less than two minutes: half-and-half fried chicken (half crispy, half with sweet and spicy sauce), garlic fries with cheese, fried rice cakes, four cans of beer, and for dessert, vanilla ice cream with honey and cornflakes. While you waited, you lay still naked on the couch playing Balatro until you received the call.

"Are you going or am I?" Sohyun asked. "Well, we both better go."

Sohyun made a move to get up, but you stopped her and shook your head.

"You stay here, silly," you said, sitting up and leaving her your phone with Balatro open. "I'll go. If you get Hanging Chad, take it without hesitation."

"And if The Wall shows up?"

"We're screwed."

You quickly dressed and went to the door to pick up what the delivery guy had brought. After thanking him, you went back inside with Sohyun, who had put on her panties and bra.

"Oh, I'll get you a sweater," you said, leaving all the bags on the coffee table for her to unpack.

Sohyun nodded and sat up, focused on your phone screen. You quickly went to your room, grabbed one of the sweaters you weren't going to bring on the trip, and handed it to her. Then, you sat down to eat while chatting about anything that came to mind. An hour later, when you'd finished everything you'd ordered, you were stuffed. The only thing left half-eaten was the ice cream, which you'd decided to save for later.

"Do you want a ride?" you asked, slumped on the couch with your hoodie up and your fingers interlaced over your stomach.

Sohyun was lying on your right, her feet up on your lap. She grimaced.

"Well, I was going to ask if I could stay here from today on," she said. "I know I was supposed to come stay in two days, but I really don't want to go to the dorm and see her."

"No, no, it's fine," you patted her calf and left your hand there. "I don't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"When have I ever said no to you?"

"I don't know, you're such a sourpuss sometimes."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm sure not. Anyway, I think the only problem is that I didn't bring any clothes."

"I can lend you money to buy things, if you want."

"Don't even think about it," Sohyun glared at you. "I'll have Yooyeon bring me my things."

"Whatever you want," you shrugged. "Hey, will you help me pack?"

"Yeah, but let me rest the food. I feel like I'm going to explode."

Sohyun and you rested on the couch, each doing your own things but enjoying each other's company. About ten minutes later, you went to your room and into the dressing room to pack your clothes with the help of your bestie. Between all the things you had to do, it took you about two hours to finish, and when you did, you took turns taking a shower and then going to bed.

The next day, you didn't get to spend as much time with her as you would have liked since you had to stream for about seven hours and she had a busy schedule, so you didn't see each other until 9 PM. That night, you made dinner together and watched a movie before going to sleep right away since your flight left early in the morning.

The next morning, Sohyun accompanied you to the Incheon Airport, wearing a loose-fitting outfit, a face mask, and a cap, just as a precaution. She carried the extra suitcase you'd ended up needing, and you carried your backpack, your main suitcase in one hand and your grained black leather Tom Ford briefcase, where you kept your personal belongings, in the other. It was 6am. Your flight was leaving at 9am.

"Remind me again how often your cats eat?" Sohyun asked as you were about to go to the counter to check in.

"Uhm..." You scratched your temple. "When they get unbearable and demand food until they're exhausted. I've spoiled them."

"Yeah, it shows," Sohyun extended her palm toward you. You looked at her.

"What?"

"Am I going to walk to Seoul or something? The car remote, idiot."

"Ah. Sorry, just habit."

Without realizing it, you'd put the car remote in your hoodie pocket. You took it out and placed it in her palm. It was painful to entrust your Purosangue to someone else, but if there was anyone you'd trust with it with your eyes closed and the certainty that they wouldn't crash it into some random streetlight, it was her.

"Please take care of yourself," Sohyun said, grabbing your wrist. "Don't skip meals, and please get a good night's sleep. Oh, and send me pictures."

"I will, thanks, Nupy," you pulled her towards you, into a warm hug that gave you all the strength you needed to face the day. "And you take some time and cut off contact with Xinyu. You need it."

"I'll try, but you know how she is," she replied, her chin resting on your shoulder. "Can I use your computer?"

"As long as you don't do anything stupid, yes," you said, moving away from her. "The camera lens is covered anyway."

"Aight. See you later, Leone," Sohyun handed you the suitcase.

"See you later, Nupy."

You blew her a kiss, took your suitcases in each hand, and went straight to check-in, leaving her behind. After presenting your passport, grabbing your boarding pass, and handing over your luggage, you went to security to have your backpack and briefcase checked, then went to immigration to have your passport stamped. After that, there was nothing left for you to do but go to the boarding area to wait.

A couple of hours later, you had boarded and were on your way to Florence.

#sohyun smut #triples smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #x male reader smut #x male reader #smut

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kthologue · 2 years ago

Text

indulge me? — gojo satoru

synopsis you and gojo go on an overnight mission and it goes wrong in every way

contents so. much. pining. (2.8k words of it!?), one bed trope, whipped!gojo, ooc gojo, completely self indulgent, a lot of cardiovascular talk, they’re first years in this!

notes first time i’ve written in AGES. sorry :3 ps this is a little snippet from a satosugu x reader series im thinking about starting. thoughts?

(edit: i wrote a part ii)

Gojo Satoru was born blessed. From birth and to death he will always be honored. It wasn't his fault that the Heavens delighted in him. So when Yaga had announced that he and you would be sharing an overnight mission to Kyushu, he nearly leapt in joy (lucky him)!

You, on the other hand, were less than thrilled to find out that you were going to be traveling alone with Gojo Satoru. For two whole days. It was a death sentence.

“Make sure to text me, so I know you're not dead.” Shoko looks between you and Gojo. Either your head will implode as a result of Gojo, or he is gonna be on the receiving end of your wrath. Shoko can’t wait to see which.

“Do take pictures, I heard the onsens there are incredible.” Suguru slyly adds. Satoru perks up at his comment. The two of them share a knowing look before Gojo speaks up.

“Wanna take a dip with me once we get there, [Name]?” He looks into your eyes, his lips are quirked upwards like he’s up to no good (which he is). “I promise I won’t take a peek!” He winks.

“Keep fantasizing, Gojo.”

“Oh I will.” He hums happily. The smile on his lips is kind of cute, you decide. Just a little.

— — — — — — —

Kurokawa, you come to find out is a very small town in Kyushu. So when people start to go missing, the entire town falls into shambles. Before your trip, Yaga had made it known the enemy you’d be facing.

“A common denominator of the missing persons is that they were all young women.” He had warned you and Gojo. “It’s an unidentified curse, but I trust that the two of you will be able to handle it.”

Three missing girls. All under the age of 25. Two of which were locals, one being a tourist.

The moment you arrive on the island of Kyushu, your guard is higher than ever. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of some horny curse,” He looks down at you as the two of you make your way down a small street to your ryokan. Kurokawa was a traditional town, its pride resting on the old culture causing it to be untouched by modern architecture.

Unamused by his nonchalant attitude, you decide to ignore his vulgar comment, “What grade curse do you think we’re up against?”

He makes a noise to show that he’s thinking. “Does it really matter? It’ll be no match for me either way.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still have to figure out what happened to the victims.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, but okay.” Your snow haired peer dismisses. It makes you a bit envious that he doesn’t have to ever feel fear for his life. Must be nice.

The two of you arrived at your designated ryokan soon enough, it was a small town after all. Gojo leads the way with you following right after. You can’t discern any cursed energy in the building, but you still make a mental note to ask Gojo about it after you both are situated.

An elderly lady in an orange kimono stood behind the desk, smiling at you and you returned it back happily.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a young couple here.” She says. That’s right, with the recent disappearance of young girls, there would be a sudden decrease of tourism around this part of town. “You certainly are a beautiful match!”

You gratefully accept her compliment, “Thank you, but we’re not–”

“Thanks granny!” Gojo wraps a strong arm around your shoulder. “I don’t know how I even managed to win her over!” There’s a wide grin on his face that makes your eye twitch. Leave it to him to tell people the two of you were together. Not only that but he totally disrespected the old lady with his informal talk!

“Unhand me, you!” You forcefully whisper at him, while trying to unwrap yourself from his hold. His arm does not budge even as you try to push it off. What the hell is this boy eating? Gojo chuckles with the old lady while you struggle.

“My, the two of you remind me so much of my husband and I in the days of our youth,” She sighs dreamily. Her age must be interfering with her memory because there was nothing inherently romantic going on between you and Gojo. “How long will you be staying here?”

“Only one night,” Gojo decides that he has tormented you enough and lets you go. He slides her his card and she pulls out something from the old wooden counter she stands behind.

A single key.

Your eyes bug out. Gojo’s eyebrows raise. You laugh nervously, face feeling warmer than it was thirty seconds ago.

“There must have been a misunderstanding. We need two rooms, ma’am.” You hold up two fingers to emphasize your point.

The smile on the old woman’s face falls, “I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh? Why not?” You press on further. Surely they could not have been booked out of all of their rooms. Tourism is at an all time low after the strange disappearances.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the strange disappearances in the area. It’s a miracle the two of you have even decided to stay here, which I am very grateful for. That is why I must repay you back by ensuring your safety. Otherwise I must ask you to leave and stay in the next town because I will not allow you to endanger yourself so carelessly.”

You blink. Neighboring town? That was hours away. The curse was here in Kurokawa. You can’t afford to jeopardize a mission just because of your own feelings.

Gojo’s hand is halfway to the key, but he waits for your approval. You sigh.

“It’s fine, we can do one. Thank you.” You bow your head. She smiled apologetically as she handed Gojo the key. Gojo, unbothered by the revelation, whistles happily as the lady leads the way to your suite.

— — — — — — —

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

Gojosatowu added getosugu, shoko.ieiri

Gojosatowu You wont believe it!!! shoko.ieiri What the hell is this gc And what the hell is Operation satoru x [name]? getosugu how come [name] isn’t in this? Gojosatowu Ladies, ladies, one question at a time please getosugu Expect a forehead flick for that comment shoko.ieiri Stfu and just answer the questions Gojosatowu alright alright [name] and i are sharing a room in kyushu!! i may come out of this mission a changed man. shoko.ieiri someone make sure [name] is still alive and well Gojosatowu I dont appreciate your lack of faith in me >:( shoko.ieiri Keep a six feet distance from her at all times perv Gojosatowu I might have to for my own sanity. What do you think she wears to bed? shoko.ieiri You disgust me sometimes getosugu Only sometimes? shoko.ieiri Let me correct myself. You disgust me. Gojosatowu Im feeling the love :(

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” You place a hand on your hips as you watch Gojo smile at his flip phone.

“Oh don’t you worry about it,” He closes it. Weird. “What’s the living situation?”

You sigh. “Despite its traditional arrangement, there is a bed.”

Gojo perks up. “Yeesh I’m glad! If I had to sleep on the floor my back would be all sore right on a mission. Y'know how annoying that is?”

You suck your teeth. “Allow me to rephrase myself. There is only one bed.”

There is an awful silence in the room, save for your erratically beating heart. Of course the old woman decided to place you in a couple’s suite.

“Heh.” Gojo chortles happily. “Wow, this must be a divine sign from God Himself. I mean, who are we to ignore this?”

“Don’t start,” You hold out an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna go request an extra futon.”

He pouts, “Don’t be like that, sharing a bed with me can’t be that bad.”

“I’m willing to bet otherwise.” You walk past him. The white haired boy watches you go like a sad puppy.

— — — — — — —

You took your time getting an extra futon, using it as an excuse to get all of the nervousness out of your system of sharing the same room as Gojo Satoru. Sharing a room with a boy was already bad enough, but Gojo? Your heart skipped a beat (out of nervousness, you insist!).

By the time you make it back to the room, the lights are out. You assume that Gojo decided to go to sleep early. You don’t blame him. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of hunting for the curse rampaging Kurokawa.

The only light source in the room is coming from the bathroom. You sigh. The idiot must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Nonetheless, you were gonna go get unready either way so you make your way to the half open door.

On the sink is a complimentary toothbrush that you help yourself to. You apply some paste and–

There is a sound of something sliding shut from behind you. You look up at the mirror. Standing behind you was Gojo. Wet. And naked.

“Oh my gosh!” You spit out your toothpaste and ran out of the room. How did you fail to see that Gojo was in the restroom? You blame it on the sliding doors separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Oh my gosh. Your face feels like it’s on fire. He has a six pack. And why does his stupid hair look like that when it's wet? Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. This is so inappropriate.

Shortly after your freakout, Gojo steps out of the bathroom. There was no way you could face him now.

“Aw, don't be so shy now. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see me like this.” Gojo stands in the doorway. There is a towel wrapped around his waist, still leaving him indecent in your eyes.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating Gojo! And lock the door when you’re in the restroom you creep!” You look anywhere but him.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault, was it? You were taking so long I thought you left me here alone.” You can practically hear him pouting. “Either way, you were the one checking me out.”

Your eyes widen, “I was not checking you out! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t feel ashamed, this can all be yours,” He gestures down to his body.

“You freak.” you blanch.

He winks at you.

This was going to be a long night.

— — — — — — —

It takes you about half an hour to calm down from the bathroom catastrophe. By now, you’re situated in your futon while Gojo is tucked on the bed. If you had to guess, it’d be nearing midnight around now. You just need to close your eyes and get some sleep before your mission tomorrow.

Except you can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, your mind betrays you and an image of Gojo post shower illustrates itself in your mind. And it doesn’t help that he sleeps shirtless. You seriously need your mind cleansed.

That wasn’t your only issue. The room was sub zero. Who knew traditional ryokans had such advanced air conditioning systems? All you could hear was the air conditioning machine overworking itself. You could even argue that it was colder than Shoko’s morgue. And your sleep shirt and shorts were doing little to help insulate you.

“Wanna come cuddle with me?” The last person you wanted to hear from breaks the silence. You pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not asleep! My six eyes tell me that you’re shivering.” Busted.

“I am not cuddling with you.” You stare at the ceiling above you, arms crossed. How could he even propose such an idea? Has he no shame?

“Well I can’t face the old granny here if my girlfriend ends up dead by freezing!”

“I am not your girlfriend, Gojo. Nor will I die.”

“That’s not what she thinks. Plus we have a mission tomorrow, so I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

“I’ll be fine, Gojo. Now go to sleep.”

“I run hot when I sleep, y’know. Let me be your personal heater.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning.

“I refuse.”

“Well I refuse your refusal.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now c'mon,” He pats the spot next to him. “I’ll even make a wall in between us.”

You hear the bedsheets shuffle and you have to sit up to see that Gojo was stacking two pillows in the middle of the bed to prove his point. You’re nearly certain that the only thing you’ll be catching soon is a headache if you keep up with his antics. It was a tempting offer, one that you would surely accept if it wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, I—”

“...Please?” His voice is softer than you have ever heard it. It was unfair how Gojo was making it harder and harder to reject his offer.

A silent moment passes by.

“...Fine,” You reluctantly get up from your pathetic excuse of a futon. “But no funny business!” You warn him.

You see Gojo perk up from the bed. He looks at you with expectant eyes, “You got it!” He gives you a thumbs up.

Whatever. If Gojo knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t try anything. You take in a deep breath before turning to face the opposite direction of where Gojo laid.

“Good night [Name],” You hear Gojo whisper. You sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight Gojo.”

Eyes closed, you pray a silent prayer that everything will be fine for the remainder of the mission.

— — — — — — —

Ever since Gojo was young, his body has been used to getting little amounts of sleep. Unsurprisingly, that caused him to have a natural alarm. It was always annoying whenever he woke up at the crack of dawn on a day when he didn't need to, but luckily for him, today it proved to be a blessing. There was an unfamiliar warmth radiating onto his body. Satoru opens his eyes.

He thinks he feels all of his six eyes widen when he feels himself wrapped around another body.

There you were, in all your beauty, lying fast asleep. In his embrace. Soft snores were escaping your mouth and there were stray hairs in your face. Did he mention how beautiful you looked sleeping? He might have to ask Shoko about heart disease because of how fast his heart was beating.

Unfortunately for him, you also seemed to be drifting away from dreamland and back to reality. Your eyes flutter and your eyebrows furrow. Gojo takes this to his advantage and does the worst thing he can think of; pretend to be asleep.

When you wake up, your mind is still hazy from the good night’s rest you had gotten, but not hazy enough to realize that your body was tangled with another’s. And you’re pretty sure the pillow you had been laying on last night was not this hard. You try to delude yourself into believing that this is all a dream, but the effects of your sleep were fading.

It takes all the strength in you to summon the courage to open your eyes. To your horror, you were firmly wrapped in Gojo’s arms and your legs were intertwined.

“What the hell?” You pull yourself away from him. On the floor below the bed laid the two pillows that Gojo had set up as a makeshift wall. You stare at them utter shock.

“No, don’t go, I’ll freeze to death,” Gojo whines, miraculously waking up. You glare at him.

“Explain to me what just happened or I swear Gojo, I’m going to–” You try to threaten him, but you can’t seem to formulate anything.

Unlike you, Gojo looked unbothered by the sudden turn of events. He even looked pleased. There was a lopsided smile on his face as he sighed, “What can I say, I guess you subconsciously want me after all.”

"I do not—"

“But if I had to guess, I’d say the room got too cold and we most likely cuddled for warmth unconsciously.” He shrugs it off like it was no big deal. You note that his hair is tousled from the night before.

You leave the warm bed you and Gojo had made. His theory was probably true, meaning it was neither of your faults. You purse your lips.

“I suppose that makes sense. I apologize for overreacting, I guess I was under the impression that we had done something lewd last night.” With that comment, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up both your mind and body.

You don’t end up seeing how red Gojo’s face got. It was foreign to feel all the blood rising to his cheeks. He takes one of his hands to slap it over his eyes before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he definitely knows why he likes you.

All of a sudden Gojo feels like he’s on top of the world. For you, it was just a moment of weakness.

┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊

Extra notes:

gojo wished he and you got to go to the onsen together.

gojo also regretted not taking a photo of you sleeping soundly in his arms. it would’ve been his new wallpaper.

for the remainder of the trip, gojo was at an all time high, successfully locating and exorcising the curse in less than an hour.

#i’d like to think they had a meet ugly that made him fall head over heels for [name]#[name] also believes her sole purpose on this earth is to humble him hehe #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kt.writes.·:*¨༺#i feel like i didnt make gojo mean enough. maybe next time #remember spring days!au

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pretzelwrites · 30 days ago

Text

THE COLONEL'S INSPECTION .

summary: after being apart from caleb for months, you and tara visit skyhaven for the summer solstice festival. he has… concerns about how you spent your time apart.

warnings: nsfw (18+, minors dni), dubcon/noncon, caleb is very controlling and a little mean in this, pet names (pipsqueak, silly girl, and 1 singular ‘gege’), fingering, virginity testing, smut with plot, lowkey badafabanatomy101, extreme jealousy, inappropriate use of evol, pre-confession caleb & mc, manhandling, orgasm denial if you squint.

characters: caleb from love and deepspace (post-explosion with some edits), afab!mc reader, and tara. everyone is in their twenties.

wc: 2.9k

author’s note: soooo this is my first fic in like ten years… i hope you all like it! i took creative liberties for dramatic effect (i.e. mc’s grandma gifting caleb her antique dining table pre-explosion.) also, this was originally written in present tense before i switched it to past tense so if you notice any typos or grammatical errors…. that’s why rip. if i missed any warnings, please let me know!

* this will likely have a second and/or third part!

visiting caleb happened less and less often. between your work with the hunter’s association, and his work as a colonel for the fleet, there was not much room in either of your schedules to meet up. that’s why whenever you had a few days of freedom, the two of you made sure to make the best of it. this time, luck was on your side. not only did you manage to get three days off of work because a big case you were working on concluded a month earlier than expected, but it also coincided with the summer solstice festival in skyhaven— and caleb said he would be free for most of your visit. what were the odds?

being freed up from the case meant tara could tag along with you, and you immediately invited her after asking caleb. he agreed to allow this with only one condition: she could not sleepover. it was a surprisingly rude request from the typically friendly and accommodating caleb, plus it was extremely inconvenient for tara. afterall, it was the only summer festival in skyhaven. most hotels would be booked up by now, and what was leftover would probably be low quality or expensive.

and your efforts to persuade him?

“i’m not changing my mind, pipsqueak.” he said dismissively although his tone was still cheerful. his rich violet eyes remained fixated on the new model plane he was assembling while he spoke into the phone, “this home is open to family, and family only.” even if you two weren’t technically family, you understood exactly what that meant— and no amount of pleading or batting your lashes would sway him. so, you begrudgingly told tara she’d have to find a place to crash for the entire trip. your friend, always the optimist, took it in stride and even seemed to enjoy flipping through the listings of premium hotels in the city.

“ooh! Y/N, look at this one! it’s got one of those infinity pools on the roof!” she’d exclaim while shoving her phone towards you over your desk of files. a holographic 3D model of the swanky hotel popped up from her screen. it was sleek and clean, mirroring the aesthetic that decorated most of skyhaven. you smiled and nodded in an attempt to feign the same level of excitement as her, but you found it hard to.

for some reason, there was a growing sense of dread in the center of your chest.

two days passed by quickly, with most of the time being spent trotting through the festival with tara and caleb— then finishing the night off at the bar with tara. caleb would say he couldn’t stay long, that he had something to tend to early in the morning, but that meant you two could enjoy yourselves without him. things were going smoothly… perhaps your worries were truly irrational afterall?

the first night, you and tara had gone a little overboard and were too drunk to end up anywhere other than the hard couch in her hotel room. the second night, you were invited out to dinner by tara’s favorite artist from the festival, you couldn’t possibly say no to her desperate pleas to tag along. that meant you had to cancel dinner with caleb twice, but you swore you’d make it up to him later.

on the third day, you all decided to conclude your last festival visit with something sweet. the local shops were selling all sorts of solstice themed foods, and this particular parlor had brightly colored frozen yogurt with the cutest sun-shaped cookie bites topped off with iridescent sprinkles. you and tara couldn’t bare to pass it up, even though caleb seemed worn out by the constant activities.

as you stood in line to order, he leaned down to whisper at a level only you could hear, “don’t spoil your appetite, pipsqueak.”

that sounded like a threat.

you found a small table beside the window, and the three of you settled in. you sat beside tara, and caleb took the seat across from you. right away, the table was loud with lively conversation and laughter between bites of creamy sweetness. you all exchanged jokes and tidbits seamlessly, there was barely a second to breathe between the chatting. considering both tara and caleb were social butterflies, it was no surprise they got along well.

somehow, the flow of conversation brought you to discuss each other's silly childhood habits. tara laughed at the way you’d steal his t-shirts from the dirty laundry to mop up any spilled juice and coffee, and caleb brought up how he would send you at least ten check-in texts every time you’d go out with your friends when you were teens.

tara’s eyes lit up and she nudged her knee against yours under the table. “oh, just like that guy leonardo! there must be something about you that brings out protectiveness from guys.” she turned to face caleb, “it makes sense that you’d do that since you two are close, but i told Y/N before that it would be so weird if leonardo wasn’t cute!”

it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. even though you and leo were just friends, his feelings for you were hard to ignore, and you had gone on a few dates with him. you had told tara plenty of times that your ‘gege’ was protective, and wouldn’t be fond of the idea of you casually dating someone he’d never met. regardless of how old you both were, caleb was unable to shake this role. you blinked at tara, a silent plea for her to stop— be quiet, take it back, anything other than continue talking.

she immediately caught on to the pleading look in your eye and attempted to backpedal. “i- i mean, not that it’s- hah- he’s not anything serious, of course. h-he’s a good coworker, is my point.” she laughed nervously, and you joined her in it. the conversation at the table carries on to a new topic, thankfully, and for a moment you thought you were in the clear… until you looked over to caleb.

it was something only you, someone who had nearly a lifetime of experiencing caleb’s personality, would be able to detect. as he listened to tara’s ramblings about the exhibit of her favorite artist at the festival, the same one you two had drinks with prior, you immediately notice the way his smile fails to reach his eyes. in fact, his typically vibrant gaze seemed to have lost every fleck of color it had. he was merely going through the motions to keep up appearances.

the feeling of dread you had managed to shake off earlier returned tenfold, and the colorful dessert in your bowl suddenly became incredibly unappetizing. it melted into a puddle of sugary goop and soggy bits of shortbread as the sun disappeared under the horizon.

it was tara who first announced she would be turning in for the night. your heart fell further from your chest when you realized that meant being alone with caleb for the aforementioned dinner you promised him, and absolutely could not back out on. dinners with caleb were always a treat, but this time…

“it was good to see you, tara.” caleb’s smooth voice interrupted your train of thought. tara smiled widely and nodded, “it was nice to see you, too! you two have a goodnight!” she turned on her heels to walk in the opposite direction towards her hotel, while you and caleb headed back to his place.

the trip back was full of what could only be described as bizarre small talk; retreading old ground, repeating details you’d already told him over the phone months ago, and answering questions that felt pointless to you. you wanted to shrug it off, to reason that surely the man you’d known nearly your entire life didn’t deserve to be treated so suspiciously, but this wasn’t meaningless small talk. he was fishing for information, attempting to piece together just what you were up to during your time apart. when the realization dawned on you, you suddenly became concerned about how every detail would be interpreted, and your responses shortened to a handful of words at most.

you stepped inside of the familiarity of caleb’s home, letting out a satisfied sigh when the scent of him enveloped you like a warm blanket. “mmm, it’s always nice to come back to—” your words are cut off with a loud ‘click’, the sound of the door being locked behind you.

“i already have dinner from last night prepared in the fridge, it just needs to be heated up.” caleb muttered while pulling off his heavy bomber jacket to toss onto the couch. the fact that this was likely the dinner you two were supposed to have the night before felt like yet another bad omen. “i- uh, great! i-i’ll set the table.” it was a habit you had picked up on in your youth. a dining table full of plates, even if empty, made you feel like your family was bigger than the one you’d found. you swallow down your anxiety and quickly trot to the kitchen, walking past the old table that used to be your grandmother’s.

when you return, arms heavy with a stack of porcelain, caleb is standing by the table with his hands planted firmly on his hips. furrowed brows and underneath that, eyes downcast and unfocused. he appeared to be locked in deep thought.

“cal—?”

“put the plates down and come here.”

his tone was authoritative and flat— the same tone he used when you were caught in a lie all those years ago. that persistent dread fully consumes you as you carefully place the stack of fragile plates onto the table and walk to his side. you looked to him expectantly, fists tightly squeezed shut, waiting to get scolded for your flakiness during the trip. in a flash, he pulled you flush against his body by your wrists, wedging you between his large build and the table. “a-ah! c-caleb, what the-”

“do you have any idea how fuckin’ rude you’ve been? how much restraint i’ve had to use lately?” his bionic arm, with all of its unnatural strength, takes control of your throat and holds your back firmly against his body. your frantic wiggling only makes the feeling worse, the metal causing red patches of friction on your throat. you have no choice but to stay still.

detecting your reluctant submission, he chuckled in bitter amusement. “ah, so pips hasn’t completely lost her mind…” caleb whispered, his warm breath skating down the side of your face. “cooperate and this will be over quickly.” his human hand snaked under the hem of your dress, traveling up your skin and leaving a trail of heat in it’s wake. his fingertips gracing the frilly hem of your panties makes you squirm automatically, despite your efforts to stay still.

he seemed to hesitate for a millisecond before his fingers roll over your mound. “h-hey!” you gasped, your entire body freezes in shock. caleb stroked over your pussy, the only thing between his touch and your skin being the thin lacey fabric of your underwear. his breath deepens as he traces over your folds, dipping a single fingertip down the center to trace over your covered clit.

“you know, i didn’t pull strings on that case just to share our trip with someone else, right?” there wasn’t even enough time for you to be shocked by this revelation, caleb was moving quicker than your brain could comprehend. his hand trailed from your clothed heat up your body to cup your breast, rolling his palm over your nipple and then firmly squeezing the flesh. it was hard for him to control himself for longer than a few seconds, made abundantly clear by the way he alternated between roughness and tender touches on your hardening peaks.

“and after all i did, you have the nerve to skip out on dinner with me twice in a goddamn row…”

“caleb, y-you’re being-” your voice was trembling under the pressure of his robotic hand. it didn’t hurt, but it was rough and unrelenting.

“and who exactly is leonardo? why didn’t you tell me about him when i called? just what did you do to make him think he could check on you like that, huh? it’s my job to protect you- or are you trying to replace me?” caleb’s questions are delivered in rapid fire succession, leaving no room for you to respond or plead your case. his robotic arm released your throat, giving you a chance to glimpse the dark blue and red ripples out of the corner of your eye. a heavy weight crashes onto your back, forcing you to lurch forward against the dining room table, your face crushed into the cold antique wood by his gravity evol. you squeal in protest, but all that does is make him press you down harder.

he quickly hikes up your skirt once more until you can feel the cool air on your rear, which only solidifies how impossibly vulnerable you are in the moment. there’s another beat of hesitation, or admiration, from him before he pulls your panties to the side to fully reveal your pussy. caleb pressed his hand to your warmth, rubbing his knuckles over your folds slowly, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling. “c-caleb, please think about what you’re doing. t-this isn’t right!” you whisper in desperation, as if he’d listen.

“i know exactly what i’m doing. i’ve just never had to resort to this.” he murmurs disapprovingly. “i used to trust that you’d tell me everything, pipsqueak.”

“i have told you every- unff!” your eyes widen from the sudden intrusion.

“hush. i’ll be the judge of that.” caleb’s middle finger, long and thick, slowly pushes it’s way deeper into your heat until it’s fully sheathed inside. “we promised to never keep secrets from one another, remember?” you are rendered completely speechless as his digit explores your most tender area, a place no one but yourself had. sliding along your walls slowly, rotating, prodding. it’s not like he was trying to give you pleasure, but rather inspecting you. sensing your shock and confusion, caleb answers the unspoken question on your lips.

“i’m just making sure you aren’t doing anything you’ll regret... there’s no reason for you to fight this if you have nothing to hide.”

caleb slowly drew his finger out and then slid back in with a second digit. the extra girth made you flinch and teeter on your toes. he watched your legs tremble from the unfamiliar pressure, your pussy fluttering and tensing around his fingers reflected both your discomfort and inexperience. “tolerate it for just a little while longer,” he urged sternly. his fingers pumped as slowly as possible, stretching your walls carefully.

caleb’s touch inside of you felt so right— blissfully so, despite it all. it was like every inch of his finger was created for your cunt, every ridge hitting you just right and coaxing out more slick from your core. shameful pleasure began to build in your body within a few pumps, which didn’t help how pathetic you felt being subjected to caleb’s control so easily. just as you were beginning to enjoy this bizarre sensation, it ended. he let out an approving sigh and pulled his fingers out with a wet ‘pop.’

your body was still his.

despite not being able to see caleb’s face, his relief was palpable. his gravity evol lifted off of your body, but you still weren’t able to move. a different weight was placed on your back to hold you against the table. when two hands are planted on either side of you, you realize that he had practically collapsed on top of you.

“silly girl,” his head leaned against the back of your’s, nuzzling his nose into the depths of your hair. the cold silver of his apple necklace slid against your warm skin, sending a tingle down your spine. “you caused all this distress for no reason… do you enjoy getting a rise out of me?” caleb chided, but his voice didn’t boast that biting edge from before. his eyes fluttered shut as he took in a deep breath of your scent, attempting to still his rapidly beating heart.

slowly, reluctantly, caleb stood up to free you from his crushing hold. your panties and dress are put back in place with a gentle touch, and although you wanted to slap his hand away, your head was spinning far too much to properly retaliate. he then turned you around to face him, revealing your flushed cheeks– one redder than the other due to the sheer force he had used when slamming you against the table, yet he didn’t acknowledge it or even look slightly regretful.

his bionic hand reached up to fix your hair, like he often did. the artificial fingers felt strangely cold on your scalp, and not at all reassuring when combined with the heated ache between your legs. just barely in your line of sight, you caught a glimpse of his throbbing member through his denim. a wet patch of precum had formed at the tip along his upper thigh, saturating the already dark fabric with his sin. the sight of it sends a rush of forbidden excitement through you, but you quickly avert your gaze to hide your budding desire. caleb returned your timid expression with a warm smile, this time it actually reached his eyes.

“now, we can eat.”

#lads caleb #love and deepspace #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #caleb x fem reader #fanfic #i'm nervous to post this but i've had caleb brainrot for a week now

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pomefioredove · 9 months ago

Note

could you write the overblot boys (+ lillia & adeuce) with a reader who is really naïve? like they aren’t dumb by any means (the opposite, actually, they are smart and get amazing grades) but they have a lot of trust in people and sometimes takes things too seriously/at face value (like they don’t understand sarcasm at all, respond to rhetorical questions, etc)

how do you guys keep coming up with the most specific relatable ideas 😭😭 finally, oblivious representation!!!

summary: naive/oblivious reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus, lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

for someone who's entire life is structured around decorum, Riddle is unexpectedly lenient with you

he's always had a certain weakness for cute things...

AHEM

he's seen your grades, and he knows you aren't incompetent or dim, you just...

...lack social finesse

fortunately, he says he's an expert at socializing!

...unfortunately, that's not true at all

if you're not careful, he'll have you talking like a sickly Victorian orphan by month two

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

but at least he's not Ace, who finds your naivete VERY entertaining

you and Deuce are a two-man circus to him

tricking you is so easy, it's almost not even fun

almost

he has, on three separate occasions, told you and Deuce that "gullible" is written on the ceiling, and all times, you both looked up

but it's all in good fun, of course

Sevens help anyone else who teases you about it, though. then it isn't so funny anymore

Ace and Deuce are just a little overprotective

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona hasn't said a word about it

not that he hasn't noticed

...not that he's trying not to embarrass you, either

he's just trying to see how long it'll take before you can tell when he's being sarcastic

it's just... entertaining

for someone as smart as you to hang onto his every word...

it's... a bit of a power trip for him

not that he's taking advantage of you for anything other than amusement, of course

besides, you'll need someone around to tell off the idiots who do try to pull the rug out from under you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

speaking of which...

if not for your friends' intervention, Azul would probably own your soul by now

he's not half as convincing as he thinks he is, but even then, you respond to everything he says in earnest

you actually believe the whole "nice guy" act

and, honestly...

well...

he likes the way you like him

you actually see him as a nice, smart, interesting person. you spend time with him without expecting anything in return

so, he gives up on trying to squeeze a deal out of you

...for now, at least, you're under his protection

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

someone get this poor man a day off

Jamil is tempted to put you and Kalim in a play pen together so he can take a nap

he just... doesn't understand you

he's seen your name in the hall after exams, he's heard the way the professors praise you, and yet you are almost painfully easy to manipulate

he could mold you like clay if he really wanted to

...unfortunately, he cares too much to do that

so, for now, he'll keep trying to trick you into tutoring Kalim so he can have the night off

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is your number one protector

you're smart, you're competent, but you're way too easy to deceive

and knowing the boys at this school...

...of course, Vil has to keep you by his side at all times. he wouldn't trust half the students here with his laundry

he can't sit by and let you get taken advantage of

...not that he never teases you

he does, of course

your earnest responses are just so sweet to him, and you seem to genuinely enjoy complimenting him...

anyway

while Rook teaches you how to pick up on hints and cues, and Epel throws hands with anyone who even looks at you weird, Vil is busy pampering you half to death

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia's initial reaction is something along the lines of "well, at least I'm not that guy,"

(sorry)

but, really; he thinks he has it bad, and then you can't even read a room?

you're like total opposites; an overthinker and an underthinker

you're all... sweet and genuine and cutesy

and he's a lame weird loser...

he assumes that everyone else thinks the same; but then he starts hearing the things other people say about you...

...and the way you get treated when you don't understand a joke or pick up on a cue

maybe you're not so different, after all...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

unfortunately, it looks like you and Malleus are on the same page

one oblivious to social cues, the other awkward from years of isolation

communicating with anyone else is a minefield

but, of course, you have each other

the way you talk to each other is kind of adorable?

Malleus can be quite blunt when he doesn't mean to, though, for you, that's a blessing

but he's also aware that you're a little oblivious, compared to other humans, and he's quite accommodating

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Lilia is a little shit

he may act all innocent about it, but he knows very well what he's doing

your naivete was the first thing he noticed about you

he absolutely uses it to his advantage

you're just so easy to prank, how can he resist?

he also enjoys flirting with you

it goes right over your head every time, and it's just the cutest thing he's ever seen

he's trying to see how far he can push it before you realize he's being serious

times he's said "I want you" to your face: 2 and counting!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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no-144444 · 1 month ago

Text

trades and tension- o.piastri

summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.

pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader

warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar was weirdly wired during the entire Christmas break. You assumed it had something to do with the fact he was constantly around his family, therefore he had no other choice other than being on the defensive all the time. After a few weeks going around Australia with him and his family (the girls trip in Sydney was especially fun), you were back to the UK for training. So, he mellowed out quickly and became the relaxed Oscar you knew better, rather than the Oscar that shouted at his little sisters over a JustDance Game he was definitely not going to win, as they laughed at him.

More specifically, you were off to Wales. Swansea. The University of Swansea. Aka, preparation day. The day you dreaded most.

Maisie was very kind about everything though, she kept telling you that you could do it all, that you could push yourself farther, that you could do more.

Oscar, on the other hand (you’d brought him because he begged), was horrified at the gruesome tests you were undertaking. He watched on in terror as you ran flat out for 3 minutes straight. He could barely watch as you did your neck exercises.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“You alright?” he questioned, rubbing your back as the McLaren social media rep shoved a camera in your face. They wanted you to do your version of Landologs, trying to gain you more popularity (not that you needed it). You nodded your head, but the urge to either scream, vomit, run away, or cry was slightly overwhelming.

“I’m alright,” you gritted out, continuing your cycling, sweat dripping off your skin. “Feel a bit sick.”

Maisie’s demeanor changed. “We can pull the plug right now,” she offered.

You shook your head. “I’m fine,” you assured her, then turned to Oscar. “You don’t have to be in here, y’know? It’s pretty hot.”

“Doesn’t bother me,” he shrugged, though you could see the sweat stains on his pits. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re a moron,” you chuckled. “Just take the out.”

“What if I don’t want out?” he teased.

“Then you’re crazy.”

“Crazy about you,” Maisie said under her breath, but you both heard it.

If you thought Oscar’s cheek couldn’t go any redder, you were proven wrong, and he did in fact, step out. You just chuckled.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

At the end of the day, you ran into the showers and finally let your exhausted body untense. This season would be hard. It would be hard on you mentally and physically. You were still with McLaren. You were still fighting with everything you had.

Just now, there were even more expectations. Great.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar held out an arm to hug you as he held the rest of your things, waiting in the lobby for you to come out. “Y’alright?” he asked, squeezing you against him. You nodded and took your (his) hoodie out of his hands and pulled it over your head.

“Tired,” you shrugged. “Ready to go to bed.”

“Can't believe you have to do that every year,” he shook his head. “That’s insane.”

You shrugged again, taking your bag from his arm. “Is what it is.”

He shook his head, smiling, as he took your hand. “Alright, home?”

“Home,” you nodded.

‘Home’ was in fact your hotel, but neither of you cared about the semantics of anything at that point. You had one focus, bed. Oscar had one focus, getting you to bed.

He drove as you stared at the passing fields and houses out the window. He wouldn’t let go of your hand even if he had to. When he had you to himself, he stuck like glue. You didn’t seem to mind much. At every red light, you felt his eyes on you. At every stop sign, he squeezed your hand. You could feel the cold metal of the bracelet you gave him, the walkie talkie charm hanging off it. He wore it, proudly. Everyday. Still, a question plagued your mind. Why would he purposefully make himself uncomfortable just to be in the same room as you?

“What?” you questioned.

He shrugged. “What?”

“Why did you stay in there with me today?” you questioned. “It was roasting.”

He shrugged, his eyes on the road. “I just wanted to.”

“But why?” you pushed for an answer.

“Didn’t want you to be alone, I guess,” he pressed a kiss to your hand. “I don’t like you being in your own head.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not very nice to yourself,” he answered tentatively. You swallowed, fixing your posture. “And I think you’re happier when you aren’t thinking awful things about yourself.”

You stopped for a moment, emotion and understanding building behind your eyes. You nodded and let out a small “Ok,” and he squeezed your hand. Never was he ever blaming you. Never was he ever making fun of you, or being mean. He cared. That's all. He just cared for you.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

The hotel lobby was dimly lit and the only soul around was the receptionist, who was too busy doing some admin stuff to even notice you and Oscar. You didn’t mind, you liked being invisible. Oscar was taking a call outside while you grabbed drinks from the vending machine. Sprite for him, water for you. When did you learn that was his favourite drink? You couldn’t remember. Maybe it was something he’d said in passing, or maybe you’d asked him. You couldn’t remember.

“That’s fucking bullshit,” his voice travelled inside, and you felt that sense of dread that had been slowly decreasing overt the break, come back tenfold. “You can’t just trade me!”

Trade. Oscar.

Oscar. Trade.

Fuck no.

You turned the corner outside to see him pacing the street, his head in his hand as he listened to the other end of the phone call. You had a feeling you knew who was on the other side. Fucking Andrea and Zak meddling in your life. He shook his head. “What does that even mean? ‘I’m distracting her’? I’m making her take care of herself! For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even care about her a year ago! You only hired her in the first place to get the fucking medal for being the only team in modern F1 to have a female driver!” he argued, his hands moving wildly. “Yeah, your decisions are final. Good for you. Fuck off.”

And he hung up.

“Don’t tell me-”

“You’re getting a new race engineer,” he scoffed. “I’m going to Aston Martin.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

playing favourites masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

taglist for this series: (just ask in the comments to be added :)

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temis-de-leon · 1 month ago

Text

MC injures their knee

Characters: gn!MC and Demon Brothers

Main Masterlist

Anon request: I'm very curious as to how the demon brothers would handle an MC / Y/N that accidentally injured their knee and can't move their leg for a while as a result. Like, everything was fine and dandy, the day was going well! But as they were walking from one area to the other, suddenly they turned too quickly, or perhaps they awkwardly shifted their weight in a moment of absentmindedness - and now their kneecap is out of the socket. Content one moment, distressed the next once they realize what happened. They scream so loudly from the pain that you can hear it outside the House of Lamentation, immediately making any noise go quiet. Even once they (very carefully) get it back in place and the pain starts to subside, they're shaking and in tears, completely unable to walk on that side. They're gonna be out of commission for a few days, may or may not have permanent damage in the area, but it slowly gets better over time. It's okay if you don't wanna do this one, btw! This is just based on something that happened to me earlier this week, gotta love Funky Joint Syndrome (hEDS) :')

A/N: I wrote this three different times, and on every occasion, I found myself unable to not write the little intro at the beginning. Even when you already put the context, anon. I hope you enjoy it and you're feeling better after all this time! Sorry for taking so long! <3

I like to think this would happen one of those days when the House of Lamentation is half empty because the universe likes to be that awful most of the time.

You’re almost thankful that, for once, you can finally run around your home with no demons trailing behind you. Sure, you love the brothers, but their demand for your attention can get suffocating sometimes.

And this specific day, each one of them is doing their own thing in separate places. Lucifer is at the castle, Mammon at the casino, Asmo is at a party, and Beel is running laps around the house. With the rest of the brothers rotting away in their rooms, it is safe to say you have all the house to yourself.

You take advantage of the situation by admiring the architecture, the oil paintings, the details in the staircase windows and the statues. You feel dumb at the beginning, but how could you live in a mansion without even attempting to appreciate its… unique beauty?

Murder house aesthetic, right?

The problem comes when you accidentally trip while stepping on the curled corner of one of the carpets.

The movement awkwardly twists your leg and makes your patella sit on the side instead of the front, where it’s supposed to be. Your joint locks itself, unnaturally bulgy, and sends waves of pain through all your nervous system.

You aren’t sure what noise the brothers heard first, either your fall or your cries, but they are all there with you in mere seconds. And those who are out of the house are on their way the moment they receive the informative message.

Thankfully, Lucifer managed to stop Diavolo and Barbatos from coming with him.

And despite Beel being the closest, the first one to return is Mammon.

Asmo takes a little longer because the tears are blurring his vision.

But back to the incident.

Satan manages to pop your patella back into position with magic while Levi and Belphie comfort you, and in the back of your mind, the commotion makes you feel a tiny bit embarrassed.

It hurts like hell, yes, but you don’t want the whole house to think you’re dying. Last time that happened, you, at least, went with a fight, but this time, you just tripped. And they’re taking it like your leg’s going to be amputated.

On the other hand, though, despite being overbearing, they take incredible care of you.

Since Beel is already used to it thanks to Belphie, he offers to take you anywhere, even if it’s within walking distance. It doesn’t matter if it’s a piggyback ride or a princess carry; whatever makes you feel more comfortable and painless, he will do.

Lucifer lets you skip classes for the necessary recovery period, not even contemplating the idea of seeing you walk up so many stairs and then stay sit and still for hours on end. If you try to act tough for the sake of being a responsible student, he may order the older twin to keep guard outside your bedroom door. He’s making sure you rest.

Satan understands Lucifer’s approach and, surprise surprise, is on board with it; but rather than making sure you stay in the house, he guarantees you don’t feel the need to leave at all. He will offer his notes and tutor you on what you don’t understand, laying down beside you in bed with books and papers scattered around you.

Levi, on the other hand, is set on keeping you entertained, and understanding that it is better if you don’t move for a while, he brings his games and manga to your room. It’s almost too much and proves to be unnecessary because you end up spending the days marathoning The Tale of the Seven Lords yet again and talking about it nonstop afterwards.

Asmo is more of a self-care type of guy and wants you to know that. He understands how you could prefer rotting away in bed while sick or injured, but you should really take care of your body! Each morning, he marches straight to your room after finishing his own routine (because you have to see him at his best) and applies himself every ointment your beautiful face could need to stay the same. If you let him, and he’ll promise he’ll be careful, he’ll even massage some anti-inflammatory cream in the injured area.

Mammon becomes your favourite errand boy, leaving the house in search of every craving you may have, even if it’s stupid. Sure, he’ll complain, but that’s part of his charm. He wouldn’t be putting on his boots if it really bothered him, right? No matter the cost, he’ll pay for it; unless it’s expensive, in which case Lucifer may add an involuntary contribution (wink wink).

And while all of this is taking place, Belphie is peacefully sleeping right next to you, hidden under the blankets and blissfully unaware of all the noise. He offers cuddles, comfort, warmth and good dreams, and if your knee is feeling especially painful, he may even let you hold onto his tail like a plushie.

If there’s a bad part to any of this, it’s that now they won’t let you out of their sight for even a minute.

What did you expect?

You got hurt in the comfort of your own house!

While they were away!!

Clearly, they need to stay closer.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @mia4gotcookiez

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

Text

The McLaren Matchmaking Disaster

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Sabrina Clarke (Original Character)

Summary:

Sabrina Clarke is sure Oscar Piastri hates her—he either ignores her, runs away, or responds like a malfunctioning robot.. In reality, Oscar has a massive crush… and is the most socially inept man on the planet. Enter Lando Norris, self-proclaimed matchmaking genius, and suddenly, all of McLaren is watching their disaster of a love story unfold.

Warnings and Notes:

Happy Race Weekend! To celebrate, here are 10k of socially awkward Oscar 😂 Warnings: Other than Oscar being an idiot and not being very nice...not really? Unless you count Lando being a menace.

(Also it's Lando (Car) because Ken's job is Beach. Get it? 😂)

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Running Tally of Oscar’s Most Awkward Moments Around Sabrina

(Maintained by McLaren Staff, because they are way too invested)

Sabrina: “Morning, Oscar!”Oscar: blinks three times, nods, walks into a doorframe.

Sabrina sneezed. Oscar panicked and said “Congratulations.”

Sabrina asked if he wanted a snack from the media lounge. Oscar responded with “Thank you, you too.”

Sabrina tripped on a cable. Oscar, trying to help, tripped over the SAME CABLE. They both ended up on the floor.

Sabrina was filming content and asked, “Oscar, do you have a fun fact for the fans?” Oscar: “No.” (And then just walked away.)

Sabrina put a hand on his arm while laughing. Oscar’s brain fully rebooted. Lando had to snap in front of his face to get him to respond.

She handed him a water bottle during a shoot. Instead of taking it, he just… held out his hand next to it like a Sims character waiting for an animation to load.

Sabrina: “Hey, Oscar, can I ask you something?” Oscar: “No.” (Then realized what he said and immediately walked away.)

He got caught staring at her during lunch. When she asked what was up, he picked up a random spoon and said “This is nice.”

Sabrina: “How are you feeling today?” Oscar: “Yes.”

Sabrina: “Do you need anything before the press conference?” Oscar: “Uh… oxygen?”

Lando asked Sabrina to pass Oscar a clipboard. Oscar fumbled it so badly it ricocheted off the table and hit him in the stomach.

Sabrina: “Hey, Oscar, do you have a charger?” Oscar: “I have… no.” (He had one in his hand.)

She asked what he was listening to in his headphones. Oscar blurted out “the national anthem” for no reason.

Sabrina: “Oh, Oscar, you have something on your face.” Oscar, instead of asking where, just froze and stared at her like a deer in headlights until Lando wiped it off for him.

She walked into the room while he was drinking a smoothie. He immediately forgot how to use the straw and inhaled half of it into his lungs.

Oscar was tying his shoes when Sabrina walked by and said, “Hey, Piastri!” Oscar just… stayed crouched on the ground like a gargoyle until she left.

Sabrina: “You look tired, did you sleep well?” Oscar: “No thanks.”

Sabrina: “Oh, I love that hat on you!” Oscar: “You too.” (She wasn’t wearing a hat.)

She waved at him during the drivers’ parade. Oscar waved back but was so distracted he almost fell off the float.

During a McLaren team lunch, she asked, “Oscar, do you want ketchup?” Oscar: “I don’t know.” (?????)

He saw her struggling to carry some equipment and instead of offering to help, he just stood there stress-blinking until Lando stepped in.

Sabrina asked, “How’s your day going?” Oscar: “It’s Tuesday.” (It was Sunday.)

He walked into a doorframe because Sabrina smiled at him.

Sabrina: “Good luck out there!” Oscar, despite knowing how to form sentences, somehow responded with, “Yeah, you too!” (She was not driving.)

During a chaotic debrief, she passed him a pen. He took it, then immediately handed it back to her without using it.

Sabrina complimented his driving. Oscar panicked and said, “Thanks, I try to be fast.” (Oscar. You drive F1. That is the point.)

They accidentally reached for the same energy drink. Oscar let go immediately, then left to get a different one from the other side of the garage, as if the fridge had personally betrayed him.

He tried to be polite and open a door for her. Somehow ended up standing directly in the doorway instead, effectively blocking her path.

Sabrina: “Are you busy later?” Oscar: “Yes.” Sabrina: “Oh, with what?” Oscar: “I don’t know.” (SIR.)

Oscar tried to make a joke during a group conversation with Sabrina. He messed up the punchline, got flustered, and then said, “Never mind,” and fully walked away.

Sabrina: “That was a great race!” Oscar: “Thank you, you too.” (AGAIN, SHE WAS NOT RACING.)

He was standing near the coffee machine when Sabrina approached. Oscar: “Oh, do you want coffee?” Sabrina: “Yeah!” Oscar, despite standing closest to the machine: “Okay, cool,” and then just walked away without making her one.

***

Oh.

Oh no.

Oscar would rather face a wet track on slicks than a conversation with Sabrina Clarke. Unfortunately, she was walking straight toward him, all sunshine and good intentions, and he was fresh out of exit strategies.

Oscar should have seen it coming.

He should have known the exact moment he stepped out of the McLaren motorhome that fate would betray him.

Because there, standing directly in his path, was her.

Sabrina, the McLaren Social Media Admin with the sunshine personality and way too much energy at ungodly hours of the morning. Sabrina, who always had a camera in his face and a teasing smile. Sabrina, who made his brain short-circuit every time she so much as said his name.

Sabrina, with sparkling blue eyes and blonde hair and a smile that made him forget everything.

Sabrina, who Oscar was utterly, hopelessly, embarrassingly into.

Which was a problem, because every time she tried to talk to him, he went completely blank. Like an idiot.

He could already feel his brain preparing to betray him. Sabrina Clarke was too nice, too bright, too pretty, too much—and he was about to be too awkward, again.

Sabrina Clarke had the kind of energy that made people gravitate toward her. Oscar, meanwhile, was actively considering throwing himself into a bush, so he didn’t need to talk to her.

He didn’t even have time to process it before—

"Oh! Hey, Oscar!"

—brain malfunction.

His heart did something weird. His palms went sweaty. His ability to form words? Gone. Completely erased.

Sabrina was smiling at him, completely oblivious to the fact that he was internally combusting.

Say something, say something, SAY SOMETHING—

"Move."

Sabrina blinked. "What?"

Oscar wanted to die.

"Uh—" he cleared his throat, staring anywhere but at her. "You’re. In the way."

(She wasn’t. Not even a little bit.)

Sabrina’s face immediately dropped. "Oh—sorry?" she said, stepping aside quickly.

Oscar didn’t even acknowledge it. He just walked past her. Like a complete asshole.

It took every ounce of self-control not to physically sprint away.

Behind him, he could hear her mutter, "Okay, what did I even do?" under her breath.

He hated himself.

And then—

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Lando’s voice boomed from behind him, but Oscar refused to stop walking.

Lando, however, had zero intention of letting him get away.

"OI, PIASTRI, GET BACK HERE!"

Oscar sped up.

Lando broke into a jog.

"Why are you like this?!" Lando shouted as he fully started chasing him.

Oscar turned a corner—bad idea. It was a dead end.

Lando caught up in seconds, skidding to a stop, hands on his hips, staring at him like he was some kind of scientific anomaly.

"Dude. WHAT. WAS. THAT."

Oscar, still pretending he had any dignity left, shrugged. "Nothing."

Lando threw his hands in the air. "NOTHING?! You literally just behaved like the biggest arsehole this side of the Atlantic!"

"Lando, leave it."

Lando did not leave it.

Instead, he physically grabbed Oscar by the shoulders. "Okay, I let the last seven incidents slide, but THIS? Mate, you just bulldozed past her like she wasn’t a human being."

"I panicked."

Lando threw his hands up. "Oscar. Mate. Why are you like this?"

Oscar checked his imaginary watch. "Oh wow, look at the time. Gotta go."

Lando stepped in front of him. "Oh no, you don’t. You’re going to explain why every time Sabrina so much as looks at you, you lose all brain function."

Oscar pressed his lips into a thin line.

Lando’s eyes widened. "Wait—OH MY GOD."

Oscar knew exactly when realization hit.

Lando’s face lit up with the force of a thousand light bulbs.

"You LIKE her."

Oscar immediately attempted to escape.

Lando tackled him.

Well—not tackled, but he grabbed Oscar’s arm in a death grip.

"You actually like her. This is golden," Lando cackled, shaking him slightly. "You absolute idiot. Oh, I have to fix this."

"No."

"Yes."

"Lando, I swear—"

"Don’t care, already decided. Operation Get Sabrina and Oscar Together is a go."

Oscar groaned, tilting his head back against the wall. "I hate everything."

Lando clapped a hand on his shoulder. "No, you love Sabrina. And I’m making sure she knows it."

He closed his eyes. Oscar knew—deep in his soul—this was only the beginning of his suffering.

***

Sabrina stormed into the media office, tossing her iPad onto the desk with a dramatic sigh. She spun around in her chair, hands flung into the air.

"He hates me. He HATES me."

Her colleague and friend, Gabby, barely looked up from her laptop. "Who hates you?"

Sabrina let out an exasperated laugh. "Oscar! Piastri! Did you not just see what happened out there?"

Gabby frowned, finally paying attention. "Uh, no? What did he do?"

Sabrina turned in her chair so fast it nearly tipped over. "I was literally just walking to the garage—MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS—and he comes out of nowhere, and tells me to move. Because I am in his way. He makes direct eye contact, glares at me like I personally offended his ancestors, and then just—walks away. No words. Just pure, unfiltered hostility in his eyes."

Gabby blinked. "That’s… weird."

"RIGHT?" Sabrina threw up her hands again. "At this point, I feel like I must've wronged him in some past life. Like, maybe I cut him off in traffic when we were both pigeons or something, because there is no other explanation!"

Gabby let out a short laugh. "I don’t think that’s how reincarnation works."

"Well, something happened, because I have never seen someone so fundamentally allergic to my existence!" Sabrina groaned, dropping her head onto the desk.

"Maybe he’s just awkward?" Gabby suggested.

Sabrina lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. "No. No, he is actively avoiding me. Like I carry some kind of Oscar-specific plague. And today? Today was a new level! He looked pissed off! What did I do?!"

Gabby considered it for a moment before shrugging. "I mean, if he really hated you, he’d probably just be indifferent. Maybe he’s just bad at talking to people he doesn’t know well?"

Sabrina gave him a flat look. "We have worked in the same paddock for over a year. If he wanted to know me, he could just, oh, I don’t know—say words instead of burning a hole through my soul with his death glare!"

Gabby held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, you have a point."

Sabrina groaned again, leaning back in her chair and covering her face with her hands. "God, I swear if I find out I somehow insulted his entire bloodline without realizing it, I’m quitting."

Gabby smirked. "No, you’re not."

"Okay, but I’ll think about it dramatically," Sabrina muttered.

Gabby patted her shoulder. "I believe in you."

Sabrina sighed. "Well, someone has to."

***

Lucy (Engineer): Okay, someone PLEASE explain what just happened with Oscar and Sabrina in the paddock??

Jordan (Marketing): Oh my god, yes. I saw that. What was that???

Matt (Mechanic): He just… bulldozed past her like she was invisible.

Adam (Hospitality): No no, he looked directly at her, said ‘Move’ and WALKED AWAY.

Lucy (Engineer): ???????????????

Adam (Hospitality): I was standing right there. Sabrina just went “What did I even do?” and looked genuinely hurt.

Gabby (Social Media): She thinks he hates her.

Jordan (Marketing): I mean… fair assumption.

Gabby (Social Media): Is Oscar beefing with our own social media team? Did we post something offensive about him?

Emily (PR): I NEED TO KNOW BECAUSE IF HE IS, THAT IS A NIGHTMARE WAITING TO HAPPEN.

Lando (Car): GUYS

Lando (Car): YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT I JUST DISCOVERED

Jordan (Marketing): Lando, if you’re about to say Oscar hates Sabrina, we already know.

Lando (Car): NO. THAT’S NOT IT. HE LIKES HER.

Matt (Mechanic): Sorry.

Matt (Mechanic): HE WHAT?

Emily (PR): Be so serious right now.

Lando (Car): DEAD SERIOUS. He has a stupid crush on her, and every time she talks to him, he just completely SHORT CIRCUITS.

Emily (PR): So what you’re saying is—he wasn’t just being an asshole for no reason today.

Lando (Car): CORRECT. HE WAS AN ASSHOLE BECAUSE HE IS A SOCIAL DISASTER WITH A CRUSH.

Matt (Mechanic): Wow. That is somehow worse.

Jordan (Marketing): So all those weird, awkward interactions we’ve been tallying up for the last month…

Matt (Mechanic): WERE BECAUSE HE LIKES HER???

Lando (Car): YES. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO FIGURE IT OUT.

Gabby (Social Media): Okay but. Someone has to tell Sabrina this because I think she genuinely believes she has committed a crime against him in a past life.

Jordan (Marketing): Lando. Do something.

Lando (Car): Oh don’t worry. I’m already matchmaking.

***

Oscar Piastri had a massive crush on Sabrina.

Unfortunately, Oscar also had the social skills of a malfunctioning toaster when it came to talking to her. The guy could navigate an F1 car at 200 mph with the precision of a machine, but the second Sabrina so much as looked at him? Catastrophe.

Which was exactly why Lando—being the helpful, selfless friend that he was—decided it was time to intervene.

Sabrina was standing by the McLaren garage, chatting with one of the engineers, her laugh carrying over the hum of activity. Oscar was approaching from the other side, completely oblivious to her presence.

Lando saw an opportunity.

"Oscar, mate," he said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "Come with me real quick."

Oscar barely had time to react before Lando was steering him directly toward Sabrina.

Oscar immediately stiffened. "Why are we going this way?"

"Because," Lando grinned, "you need to learn how to talk to her like a normal human being."

Oscar immediately started looking for an escape route. "Nope. No. Absolutely not."

But it was too late. They were already there.

"Sabrina!" Lando greeted cheerfully. "Oscar has something to say to you."

Sabrina turned, surprised. "Oh? What’s up, Oscar?"

Oscar’s brain blue-screened.

He stared at her.

Sabrina, smiling, waited for him to speak.

Oscar did not speak.

Lando nudged him, eyebrows raised. Dude, say something.

Oscar’s brain panicked. "I—uh—" He swallowed. "—nothing. It's fine."

Sabrina’s smile faltered. "Oh… okay?"

Lando blinked. "That’s not what you were gonna say, mate."

Oscar refused to make eye contact. "Nope, I’m good. I should—uh—go."

Sabrina’s confusion deepened. "Did I do something?"

Oscar whipped around, eyes wide. "What? No! No, you’re fine. It’s just—uh—" He struggled. "It’s me."

Sabrina hesitated, her expression unreadable. "Right."

Lando watched in horrified fascination as Oscar, now fully committed to fleeing, muttered a quick, "Okay, bye," and walked away.

Just like that.

Sabrina blinked after him. "Did… did he just leave?"

Lando dragged a hand down his face. "Oh my God."

Sabrina turned to him, exhaling sharply. "Lando. Be honest."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Does Oscar hate me?"

Lando choked. "What? No! No, he—" He stopped himself, then groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. "Oh, this is so much worse than I thought."

Sabrina frowned. "I don’t understand. Every time I talk to him, he either ignores me, barely acknowledges me, or runs away."

Lando shook his head. "He doesn’t hate you."

Sabrina crossed her arms. "Then what’s his problem?"

Lando hesitated. Then, exasperated, he muttered, "He has a massive crush on you."

Sabrina laughed out loud. "No, he doesn’t."

Lando threw his hands up. "Sabrina, think about it. He’s fine with literally everyone else, but the second you show up? He turns into an awkward disaster and flees."

Sabrina gave him a deeply skeptical look. "That means he likes me?"

Lando nodded. "He is so down bad, it's pathetic."

Sabrina shook her head. "Or, he just hates me and doesn’t know how to tell me."

Lando groaned. "This is a nightmare."

Sabrina sighed. "Look, Lando, I appreciate the optimism, but from where I’m standing? Oscar Piastri despises me."

Lando desperately needed to fix this.

Instead, he pulled out his phone and opened the McLaren group chat.

***

Lando (Car): I have failed. Sabrina 100% thinks Oscar hates her. This is worse than I imagined.

Gabby (Social Media): How did you fail?

Lando (Car): I TRIED TO HELP. I walked Oscar right up to her. I gave him the perfect opportunity.

Jordan (Marketing): And??

Lando (Car): And he stared at her like a deer in headlights, muttered some nonsense, then WALKED AWAY.

Emily (PR): …Like just walked away?

Lando (Car): Just turned and LEFT. Like a weirdo.

Gabby (Social Media): Oh my god.

Emily (PR): Does he think she’s Medusa or something? Why does he keep acting like she’s about to strike him down?

Matt (Mechanic): At this point, I’d believe it.

Lando (Car): AND THEN Sabrina ASKED ME IF OSCAR HATES HER.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh no.

Jordan (Marketing): HE WHAT???

Lando (Car): I TRIED to explain but SHE DOESN’T BELIEVE ME.

Jordan (Marketing): I mean… can we blame her??

Lando (Car): GUYS. HE DOESN’T HATE HER. HE LIKES HER. HE LIKES HER SO MUCH IT HURTS TO WATCH.

Matt (Mechanic): I need receipts. How do you know?

Lando (Car): HAVE YOU SEEN HIM AROUND HER? HE CAN’T FUNCTION.

Jordan (Marketing): I thought maybe he was just awkward in general, but no. He is specifically incapable of speaking to Sabrina.

Emily (PR): This is so embarrassing for him.

Lando (Car): RIGHT?

Gabby (Social Media): So what do we do?

Lando (Car): FIX IT. We need to get them in a situation where Oscar CAN’T ESCAPE.

Lucy (Engineer): Like what? Lock them in a room?

Lando (Car): …Not a bad idea.

Lucy (Engineer): HR would not approve.

Lando (Car): Ugh, fine. But we need a Plan B. I REFUSE to let Oscar fumble this forever.

Emily (PR): I’m just fascinated by the fact that Oscar Piastri—who is literally one of the most composed drivers on the grid—completely crumbles in front of Sabrina.

Jordan (Marketing): I KNOW RIGHT.

Matt (Mechanic): Someone needs to record this for science.

Lando (Car): You guys don’t understand. He’s DOOMED. And she genuinely thinks he LOATHES her.

Lucy (Engineer): This is actually tragic.

Lando (Car): I AM TAKING MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh no.

Gabby (Social Media): This will end in flames.

Jordan (Marketing): Can’t wait.

Lando (Car): Watch and learn, people. 🚨

***

Sabrina slumped into her chair, rubbing her temples like she was nursing the world's worst headache. Across from her, Gabby leaned against the desk, arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

“So, let me get this straight,” Gabby said slowly. “Lando Norris—who is the human embodiment of chaos—just waltzed up to you and said Oscar Piastri has a crush on you?”

Sabrina groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Yes.”

Gabby blinked. “Oscar Piastri.”

“Yes.”

“The same Oscar Piastri who, just today, physically recoiled when you asked if he needed anything?”

Sabrina let out a hysterical laugh. “YES.”

Gabby whistled. “Wow. You’re right. He definitely has a crush on you.”

Sabrina shot her a glare. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

Sabrina threw her hands in the air. “How does that make any sense?! He doesn’t even look at me for more than two seconds. Every time I speak to him, he either ignores me, stares like I’ve just grown a second head, or runs away like I’m carrying the plague.”

Gabby hummed. “Yeah, that does sound like a man with a debilitating crush.”

Sabrina let out another groan and dropped her head onto her desk. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I believed Lando for even a second.”

“Did he at least have evidence?”

“His exact words were: ‘He doesn’t hate you, Sabrina. He likes you. He likes you so much he’s malfunctioning.’”

Gabby snorted. “That sounds like Lando.”

“Right?” Sabrina threw up her hands. “And when I told him Oscar’s actively avoiding me, he just went, ‘No, no, that’s just because he’s awkward and nervous.’ As if that’s supposed to be reassuring!”

Gabby tapped a finger against her chin. “I mean. That does check out.”

Sabrina gaped at her. “You’re insane.”

Gabby just shrugged. “I’m just saying—if I were you, I’d consider the possibility.”

Sabrina groaned dramatically. “Or, hear me out—he just hates me.”

Gabby gave her an exasperated look. “Sabrina, no one has ever hated anyone the way Oscar Piastri allegedly hates you.”

“Exactly!”

“No, I mean, if he did actually hate you, he’d be way more normal about it.”

Sabrina blinked. “What?”

Gabby smirked. “If he truly disliked you, he’d be able to talk to you just fine. People don’t act weird around people they don’t like. They act weird around people who make them nervous.”

Sabrina opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “...No.”

Gabby just grinned. “Yes.”

Sabrina scowled. “You and Lando are both delusional.”

Gabby shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe you should test it.”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes. “How?”

Gabby’s grin widened. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe just… talk to him again. See if he spontaneously combusts.”

Sabrina huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine. But when I prove you wrong, you’re buying me coffee.”

Gabby chuckled. “Deal. But when I’m right—I get to say ‘I told you so’ forever.”

***

Sabrina took a deep breath. Okay. This time, it’s going to be fine. It was just a normal conversation. Nothing weird. No running away. No painful silence. Just… normal.

Just Attempt #376 of Sabrina Laurel Clarke trying to have a normal Conversation with Oscar Jack Piastri.

She spotted Oscar standing by the coffee machine, looking at it like it had personally betrayed him. This was her chance. No escape routes. No distractions.

“Hey, Oscar,” she said, keeping her voice light and casual.

Oscar visibly flinched.

Sabrina hesitated, then pushed forward. “You okay?”

Oscar’s mouth opened, then closed. He blinked at her. Then, with the most robotic movement imaginable, he slowly turned back to the coffee machine. “Fine.”

Sabrina frowned. “Are you sure? You look—”

“I am fine,” he cut in, voice slightly too loud. “Totally. Completely fine. Nothing is wrong. Everything is great.”

Sabrina stared at him. “...Okay?”

Oscar jabbed a button on the coffee machine with unnecessary force. Nothing happened. His jaw tightened. He jabbed it again. Still nothing. Sabrina watched, mildly concerned, as he pressed the button three more times, increasingly frantic.

“Do you want me to—”

“No.”

“Oscar, I think it’s out of—”

“I said no.”

A beat of silence.

Then, because fate clearly had a sense of humor, the coffee machine sputtered violently—and exploded espresso directly onto Oscar’s shirt.

Sabrina gasped. “Oh my god.”

Oscar stared at himself, completely blank-faced, coffee dripping down his front.

Sabrina moved without thinking, grabbing a napkin from the counter. “Here, let me—”

But as soon as she stepped forward, Oscar jerked back like she was about to attack him. “I’M GOOD.”

Sabrina froze mid-motion, napkin in hand.

Oscar stood there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, coffee-soaked, absolutely radiating panic.

Then, before she could say anything else, he spun on his heel and speed-walked out of the room.

Sabrina stood there, napkin still raised, mouth open in disbelief.

And that was when she heard laughter.

She turned to see Lando, cackling into his hand, watching the whole disaster unfold like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

“He hates me,” Sabrina muttered, dropping the napkin.

Lando wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Nah, mate. He’s just in love with you.”

Sabrina gaped at him. “Are you—did you see that?! He ran away from me like I was a literal threat to his safety.”

“Exactly,” Lando said smugly. “That’s not hate. That’s terror.”

Sabrina threw up her hands. “SAME THING.”

Lando just grinned. “Trust me. It’s really not.”

****

Lando: Oi.

Lando: Mate.

Lando: OSCAR.

Lando: ANSWER ME.

Lando: YOU RAN AWAY FROM HER LIKE SHE WAS THE GRIM REAPER.

Lando: BECAUSE OF A COFFEE MACHINE.

Lando: DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW INSANE THAT LOOKED.

Oscar: Leave me alone.

Lando: I will absolutely not.

Lando: You physically recoiled when she tried to hand you a napkin. A napkin, Oscar.

Oscar: I panicked.

Lando: NO SHIT.

Lando: She thinks you hate her.

Oscar: …

Oscar: That’s unfortunate.

Lando: UNFORTUNATE???

Lando: YOU ARE A DISASTER.

Oscar: I KNOW. STOP REMINDING ME.

Lando: Fix it.

Oscar: How?

Lando: Oh, I don’t know, maybe stop acting like she’s an apex predator every time she looks at you?

Oscar: That’s not helpful.

Lando: Neither are you, mate.

Oscar: I’ll figure something out.

Lando: You’d better. Because I swear, if you make her think you hate her one more time, I am personally locking the two of you in a room until you admit you like her.

Oscar: …

Oscar: You wouldn’t.

Lando: Try me.

***

Oscar knew—knew—that Lando was up to something the second he walked into the McLaren motorhome. The smug grin. The too-casual lean against the counter. The glint of mischief in his eyes that could only mean bad things.

Oscar didn’t have the patience for it today.

“What,” he said flatly.

Lando beamed. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking how tragic it is that you and Sabrina never seem to get much time together. What a shame.”

Oscar’s stomach dropped. “Lando—”

“So I thought,” Lando barreled on, ignoring him entirely, “why not fix that? Quality bonding time! No better way to build team spirit.”

Oscar took a slow, steadying breath. “Lando.”

“Which is why,” Lando continued, still smiling like a menace, “you and Sabrina are filming a ‘Try the Aussie Snack’ video together in five minutes.”

Oscar’s soul left his body.

“No,” he said immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“You are doing it.”

Oscar’s eye twitched. “I refuse.”

Lando clapped him on the shoulder. “Too late! Already confirmed. Sabrina’s setting up the camera.”

Oscar stared at him, betrayed.

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” Lando corrected. “Now go. And for once, try acting like a normal person around her.”

Oscar considered running. But before he could even attempt an escape, Lando grabbed him by the shoulders and physically steered him toward the media room.

This was going to be a disaster.

Oscar could already feel the impending catastrophe brewing as Lando shoved him into the media room.

Sabrina was there, sitting cross-legged on the couch, setting up the camera with an easy smile. That was already a problem.

Because Oscar, despite all his best efforts, forgot how to be a functional human being the second she smiled at him.

“Hey, Oscar,” she said, looking up. “Ready to try some weird snacks?”

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Lando, standing behind him, groaned. “Oh my god. Speak.”

Oscar managed a nod. A stiff, awkward nod that made Sabrina blink in confusion.

Lando sighed, already regretting everything. “Okay, I’m leaving before I get second-hand embarrassment.” He gave Oscar a pointed look. “Don’t screw this up.”

And then, just like that, he was gone.

Leaving Oscar alone. With Sabrina. On camera.

This was a nightmare.

Sabrina tilted her head, studying him. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he said too quickly. “Fine.”

She gave him a look, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press. Instead, she lifted the first snack—some kind of mystery Tim Tam flavor—and held it up. “Alright, first one up. Want to do the honors?”

Oscar nodded again, grabbed the package, and—

Immediately fumbled it.

The Tim Tams slipped right out of his hands, hit the table, and tumbled onto the floor.

Silence.

Oscar stared at them, horrified. Sabrina stared at him, confused.

Then, to make it worse, instead of just picking them up like a normal person, Oscar blurted out:

“I meant to do that.”

Sabrina laughed.

Like, full-on laughed.

And Oscar? He wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

Instead, he bent down, grabbed the fallen package, and shoved it back onto the table with unnecessary force. “Let’s just—let’s just get on with it.”

Sabrina was still grinning as she unwrapped the pack, clearly amused. “Sure, whatever you say.”

The rest of the filming went about as well as expected.

Which was to say: terribly.

Oscar stammered through half his sentences, nearly choked on a Wagon Wheel, and at one point, when Sabrina playfully nudged his arm, he nearly knocked over the entire table.

By the end of it, Sabrina must be fully convinced he was the strangest person alive.

And Oscar?

Oscar was fully convinced Lando Norris was going to die for putting him through this.

****

Lando (Car):

Lando (Car): I just did my best matchmaking work to date.

Emily (PR): Oh no.

Matt (Mechanic): Oh no.

Gabby (Social Media): Oh no.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh no.

Lando (Car): Why do you all react like that??

Emily (PR): Because your matchmaking has the success rate of a crashed simulator.

Matt (Mechanic): What did you do?

Lando (Car): I set up Oscar and Sabrina to film the snack taste test together.

Adam (Hospitality): Oh no.

Lando (Car): STOP SAYING THAT.

Adam (Hospitality): And how did it go?

Lando (Car): Not well.

Emily (PR): Define not well.

Gabby (Social Media): Wait. I just watched the footage.

Gabby (Social Media): The footage is completely unusable unless we want people to think Oscar is actively having a stroke.

Matt (Mechanic): What did he do??

Gabby (Social Media): He dropped the snacks, stumbled over every sentence, stuttered like 15 times, choked on a Wagon Wheel, and almost knocked over the table because Sabrina barely nudged him.

Matt (Mechanic): For fuck’s sake.

Gabby (Social Media): Sabrina literally came up to me after filming and once again was like, “I think Oscar genuinely hates me.”

Lando (Car): HE LIKES HER. HE JUST DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO FUNCTION.

Adam (Hospitality): This is the worst case of “boy failure” I have ever seen in my life.

Emily (PR): Can we salvage anything from the footage?

Gabby (Social Media): I mean. It is funny.

Lando (Car): Post the choking clip.

Emily (PR): We are NOT posting footage of one of our drivers choking on a Wagon Wheel.

Lando (Car): Cowards.

***

Sabrina wasn’t sure why Lando had insisted she sit next to Oscar at the team dinner, but she should have known it was a terrible idea.

The moment she slid into the seat beside him, he tensed like someone had just threatened to light him on fire.

“Hey,” she tried, keeping her voice light.

Oscar didn’t even look at her. “Hi.”

It was clipped. Sharp. Barely there.

Sabrina blinked. Okay, then.

She tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was stressed. Maybe—

“Oh, Sabrina, you’ve gotta try this,” Lando announced, loudly enough for half the table to hear. He speared something off his plate and dropped it onto hers like he was a benevolent king bestowing a gift. “Oscar loves it. Right, Oscar?”

Sabrina glanced at Oscar just in time to see him staring at the food like it had personally offended him.

“…Sure,” he muttered, then grabbed his glass and took a sip of water like it physically pained him to be part of this conversation.

She hesitated. “I mean, if you like it, I’m sure it’s good—”

Oscar made a noise that was something between a cough and a laugh. “Yeah. Right.”

Sabrina froze.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Lando kicked Oscar under the table—Sabrina could hear it—but Oscar just shot him a glare and went back to stabbing at his food with a little too much aggression.

Okay. She’d give him one more chance.

Sabrina turned to him again. “So, uh, do you have any fun off-weekend plans?”

Oscar finally, finally looked at her.

“No.”

Then he immediately turned back to his plate.

Lando groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

Sabrina clenched her jaw.

She was done.

Every time she tried to talk to Oscar, he shut down completely. He either ignored her, barely acknowledged her, or treated her like she was a personal inconvenience.

And yet, for some insane reason, Lando kept pushing them together.

She shoved a forkful of food into her mouth, silently seething.

Lando was wrong.

Oscar didn’t like her.

Oscar Piastri hated her.

***

Lando (Car): I GIVE UP.

Lando (Car): I TRIED. I REALLY TRIED.

Lando (Car): AND HE JUST SAT THERE LIKE A F***ING STATUE AND MADE IT WORSE.

Matt (Mechanic): What happened??

Lando (Car): IT’S A DISASTER.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh no.

Emily (PR): What did he do this time?

Lando (Car): Sabrina tried to make conversation. Asked about his weekend. Lando (Car): And this idiot just said “No.” AND WENT BACK TO EATING.

Jordan (Marketing): 💀💀💀

Emily (PR): You’re joking.

Gabby (Social Media): WHY IS HE LIKE THIS????

Lando (Car): I DON’T KNOW. I WISH I DID.

Matt (Mechanic): What did Sabrina do?

Lando (Car): She looked like she was seriously reconsidering her life choices.

Lando (Car): And I don’t blame her.

Gabby (Social Media): We’re gonna lose her. She’s gonna quit and it’s gonna be Oscar’s fault.

Jordan (Marketing): What if he actually does hate her? Like, genuinely?

Lucy (Engineer): No way. I caught him staring at her like a lovesick puppy two days ago.

Lando (Car): EXCUSE ME??????

Lucy (Engineer): Yeah. He was watching her across the paddock. Full-on, dazed, in a trance, staring.

Jordan (Marketing): So he likes her. But every time she talks to him, he malfunctions.

Matt (Mechanic): That’s what we’re saying, yes.

Lando (Car): I am going to fight him.

Emily (PR): How are you gonna fix this?

Lando (Car): I DON’T KNOW. HE WON’T LET ME HELP.

Gabby (Social Media): Maybe stop helping.

Lando (Car): NEVER.

***

Sabrina flopped down onto her bed with a deep sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “I think I’m actually starting to take it personally.”

Her roommate, Gabby, barely looked up from where she was scrolling on her phone. “What, the Oscar thing?”

“Yes, the Oscar thing,” Sabrina said, throwing an arm over her face. “It was funny at first. Like, ‘oh, haha, Oscar Piastri is awkward around me,’ but now—Gabby, I swear to God, I think he actually hates me.”

Gabby finally put her phone down. “He doesn’t hate you.”

Sabrina let out a humorless laugh. “He won’t even speak to me! Do you know what happened today? I asked him how his weekend was, and do you know what he said? No.”

Gabby blinked. “No?”

“Just ‘no’ and then he went back to eating like I didn’t exist.”

Gabby winced. “Ouch.”

Sabrina groaned, rubbing her hands down her face. “And then Lando looks like he’s ready to kill him, and I don’t even know why! Like, am I missing something?”

Gabby bit her lip, hesitating. “…Well.”

Sabrina turned her head to look at her. “What?”

Gabby shifted. “Lando did say Oscar has a crush on you.”

Sabrina just stared at her for a second. Then she scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious.”

“That makes zero sense,” Sabrina argued, sitting up. “Who acts like that around someone they like? He actively avoids me! I feel like I’m in high school again and the guy I had a crush on would rather jump into traffic than have a conversation with me.”

Gabby sighed. “I know it’s weird, but maybe he’s just really, really bad at talking to his crush?”

Sabrina let out a small, sad laugh. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m kind of over it. I don’t like feeling like an inconvenience every time I open my mouth.”

Gabby gave her a sympathetic look. “Maybe you should just… stop trying?”

Sabrina flopped back onto the bed. “Yeah. I think I will.”

***

Sabrina had always prided herself on being professional. On handling things with grace. On not letting things get to her.

But tonight, Oscar Piastri had officially broken her.

She didn’t know why she even bothered anymore. She had spent months trying to be friendly, trying to smooth over whatever invisible tension sat between them, trying to convince herself that maybe—maybe—she was just imagining things.

But she wasn’t.

Because when she had reached out—again—to be nothing but nice to him, he had made it crystal clear how he felt about her.

It had been something so small.

She had only been trying to help.

They had all been standing around post-race, the energy in the McLaren garage a buzz of relief and exhaustion. She had noticed his water bottle was empty and, without thinking, had grabbed a fresh one off the table and handed it to him.

A normal, human gesture.

And then, Oscar—fucking Oscar—had recoiled.

Actually recoiled. Like she was something disgusting.

“I don’t need you to do things for me,” he had snapped.

Loud enough for people to hear.

Loud enough that Lando had blinked at him like he had lost his mind.

Loud enough that Sabrina had felt the words like a slap across the face.

It was the way he said it. The disgust. The finality. The absolute contempt in his voice, like she had committed some crime just by offering him a bottle of water.

Her fingers had gone numb around the plastic before she let it drop to the table, her throat so tight she thought she might actually choke on it.

For a second, she swore she saw regret flash in his eyes, but she didn’t care.

Because fuck that.

She had taken a step back, plastered on that bullshit little smile she had gotten too good at faking, and said, “Noted.”

Then she turned on her heel and left.

She didn’t stop until she was out of the garage, away from the noise, away from him, before her hands started to shake. Before the stupid lump in her throat finally won.

She had spent months trying to figure out what she had done to make Oscar Piastri hate her so much.

And now?

Now she was just done.

Sabrina barely made it around the corner before her breath hitched in her throat.

She had tried—God, she had tried—to keep it together, to swallow it down like she always did, to shake it off and pretend like it didn’t matter.

But it did.

Because she was so tired of this. Of trying, of second-guessing, of making excuses for why Oscar Piastri treated her like she was something he couldn’t stand to be around.

And tonight? Tonight, he hadn’t even tried to hide it.

A fresh wave of humiliation crashed over her, and suddenly, she was gripping the side of a metal barricade, blinking rapidly as tears burned in her eyes.

“...Sabrina?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her voice to come out normal before she turned. But one look at Gabby, her closest friend on the media team, and it all crumbled.

Because Gabby took one look at her face and knew.

“Oh, babe.”

That was all it took. The dam broke.

Sabrina let out a harsh, shaky breath, pressing her palms against her face as the tears finally spilled over.

“I don’t—I don’t know what I did,” she choked out, voice wrecked.

Gabby stepped in without hesitation, arms wrapping around her tightly, like she could shield Sabrina from the weight of it all.

“You didn’t do anything,” she murmured. “He’s just—he’s weird—”

“No, he hates me.” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, pulling back just enough to look at her friend. “I don’t—why does he hate me?”

Gabby’s expression twisted, like she was trying to figure out the right thing to say. But there wasn’t a right thing to say, because there wasn’t a reason.

Sabrina wasn’t stupid. She knew not everyone had to like her. But this? This was something else. Something cruel, something that made her feel like she was some idiot constantly trying to reach for a friendship that was never going to exist.

And maybe she could’ve handled that.

But what she couldn’t handle was how much it hurt.

How much it made her feel like she was the only one in the world who didn’t understand why she deserved it.

Gabby exhaled, tightening her grip on Sabrina’s shoulders.

“You need to stop trying,” she said gently. “Because if he’s too much of a coward to explain himself, then he doesn’t deserve to have you wasting another second on him.”

Sabrina let out a wet, broken laugh, swiping furiously at her face.

“I wish I could,” she whispered. “I really do.”

***

Gabby (Social Media): LANDO. I AM GOING TO KILL YOUR TEAMMATE.

Lando (Car): …okay, so context would be great before I start panicking???

Jordan (Marketing): Seconded. What did Oscar do this time?

Gabby (Social Media): Oh, you mean aside from being a complete nightmare of a human being to Sabrina for MONTHS??

Lando (Car): Look, I know he’s socially incompetent, but what happened?

Gabby (Social Media): HE MADE HER CRY.

Lucy (Engineer): OH WHAT THE HELL.

Matt (Mechanic): Wait, actually cry? Not just frustrated huffing and ‘I’m gonna scream’ kind of cry?

Gabby (Social Media): FULL ON. TEARS. Lando, she thinks he hates her. She literally just said, “Why does he hate me?” THROUGH TEARS.

Lando (Car): …I’m going to kill him.

Gabby (Social Media): Not if I get there first.

Emily (PR): Oh my God. Sabrina is one of the nicest people here, what is WRONG with him??

Lando (Car): You guys. He doesn’t hate her. He likes her. He just has the social skills of a damp paper towel.

Gabby (Social Media): OH REALLY? You wanna come tell her that while she’s sobbing into my shirt??

Lando (Car): I—

Lando (Car): Okay yeah that’s really bad.

Adam (Hospitality): What the hell does he do to make her think he hates her???

Gabby (Social Media): Oh, you mean aside from looking like he’d rather walk into oncoming traffic than hold a conversation with her?? Or the fact that whenever she so much as breathes in his direction, he either ignores her or flees the scene like she’s a serial killer???

Matt (Mechanic): Tbf, he also does that when I ask him to sign merch for my niece.

Gabby (Social Media): THAT IS NOT THE POINT.

Lando (Car): I swear he’s just a nervous wreck around her.

Gabby (Social Media): Well, congratulations, your nervous wreck of a teammate has finally broken her.

Lando (Car): Okay, okay, I’m fixing this.

Gabby (Social Media): Fixing it how??

Lando (Car): Step 1: Yell at Oscar.

Lando (Car): Step 2: Figure out Step 2.

Emily (PR): This is going to be a disaster.

Matt (Mechanic): Someone record it.

***

Oscar barely had time to react before Lando stormed into his hotel room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Lando demanded, eyes blazing.

Oscar blinked, still in his McLaren hoodie, halfway through removing his shoes. “Uh—”

Lando cut him off. “Sabrina is CRYING, mate. ACTUAL TEARS. Do you understand how hard it is to make someone like Sabrina cry? You have to be horrible. And congratulations! You did it!”

Oscar’s stomach sank. “She’s crying?”

“Yes, you absolute moron!” Lando threw his hands up. “Gabby just texted the group chat saying she’s full-on sobbing because she thinks you hate her.”

Oscar swallowed. “I don’t—”

“I KNOW YOU DON’T,” Lando yelled. “But do you know what she knows? That every time she tries to talk to you, you look like you’re being held at gunpoint and then RUN AWAY.”

Oscar rubbed a hand over his face, guilt pooling in his gut. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Well, guess what? Intentions don’t mean shit if the person on the other end is crying their eyes out in a hotel room thinking you despise their existence.” Lando grabbed Oscar’s arm and yanked him toward the door. “You’re coming with me.”

Oscar dug his heels in. “Lando—”

“No. I don’t care if you combust from secondhand embarrassment. You’re apologizing to her.”

Oscar sighed, defeated, and let himself be dragged down the hallway.

Sabrina looked up when the door swung open. Her eyes are still red-rimmed, and when she sees Oscar standing there, she stiffened immediately. Gabby, beside her on the bed, narrowed her eyes.

“What is he doing here?” Sabrina asked, voice hoarse.

“He has something to say,” Lando announces, shoving Oscar forward before leaning against the door like a prison guard. “And he’s not leaving until he says it.”

Oscar’s mouth went dry. Sabrina crossed her arms, waiting. Gabby glared.

“I—” Oscar started, but the words catch in his throat.

Sabrina exhaled sharply. “Let me guess. You want me to stop bothering you? You think I should take the hint?” She shook her head, voice cracking. “I get it, okay? I got it a long time ago. You don’t have to do this whole awkward pity act.”

Oscar felt like the world had flipped upside down. “Sabrina—”

“No,” she interrupted, standing up. “You’ve spent months making me feel like I’m less than nothing to you. Like I’m some annoyance you can’t wait to get away from. And now, what? You’re forced to be here, and I’m supposed to pretend it’s fine?”

“That’s not—”

“Then WHAT is it?” she snapped, eyes burning. “Because I have tried, Oscar. I’ve tried to be nice. I’ve tried to talk to you. And every single time, you look at me like I’ve killed your dog before you run away like you can’t stand to be in the same room as me.” Her voice wobbled. “Do you have any idea how much that sucks?”

Oscar was frozen, heart pounding. Sabrina’s chest rises and falls unevenly, her fists clenched at her sides.

“I don’t hate you,” he blurted.

Sabrina lets out a bitter laugh. “You have a really funny way of showing it.”

“I don’t—” Oscar ran a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. “I like you, okay?”

The room went dead silent.

Sabrina blinked. “What?”

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut, then opened them again. “I like you,” he repeats, quieter this time. “That’s why I’ve been so—” He gestures vaguely at himself, expression pained. “Weird. I get nervous, and then I panic, and then I make everything worse.”

Sabrina just stares at him, speechless. Gabby’s jaw has dropped. Lando lets out an I KNEW IT under his breath.

Oscar shifted awkwardly. “I never meant to make you feel like I hated you. I just... didn’t know how to act like a normal person around you.”

Sabrina exhaled slowly, emotions warring on her face. Finally, she rubbed her hands over her eyes. “I cannot believe this.”

Oscar winced. “Yeah.”

Lando clapped his hands together. “Okay, well, I think this is a great development! Now that the truth is out, maybe we can all move past the months of absolute torture you’ve both inflicted on us.”

Sabrina glared at him. “Lando.”

“What?”

She sighed. “Shut up.”

Oscar was standing there like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. Gabby, sitting on the bed, was looking between them like she’s watching the most fascinating TV drama of the year.

“You like me,” Sabrina repeated, like she’s trying to process the words in real time. “That’s why you’ve spent months acting like I have the plague?”

Oscar shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking thoroughly miserable. “Yes?”

Sabrina stared at him, then threw her hands up. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

Lando makes an exaggerated ding ding ding motion with his hands. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Oscar shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

Sabrina pressed her fingers to her temples, exhaling sharply. “Do you know how much I’ve stressed about this? How much I’ve analyzed every single interaction we’ve ever had, trying to figure out what I did to make you hate me? And the answer was just this?” She gestured at him, looking completely exasperated. “You like me?”

Oscar winced. “I panicked.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, dropping onto the edge of the bed.

Lando leaned against the wall, looking far too amused by the situation. “I mean, at least we got to the bottom of it, yeah? No more crying, no more existential crises about why Oscar Piastri has been treating you like an actual curse.”

Sabrina glared at him again. “Lando.”

“What?”

“Go away.”

Lando blinked. “Excuse me?”

“This is your fault,” she said, standing back up and jabbing a finger in his direction.

Lando scoffed, offended. “I tried! Do you know how many times I’ve told Oscar to stop being a complete weirdo about this?” He turned to Oscar. “Tell her! Tell her how many times I’ve told you to stop being an idiot!”

Oscar sighed. “He has told me.”

“See?” Lando gestured dramatically. “I tried to help, but noooo, someone just had to be emotionally repressed and incapable of functioning like a normal human being around their crush.”

Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lando, leave.”

Lando raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. But you both owe me after this.”

He strided to the door, pausing dramatically with his hand on the handle. “Oh, and just so you know? The entire McLaren staff group chat is losing their minds over this. We’ve all been waiting for this moment for months.”

Sabrina groaned. Oscar looks like he might pass out.

Lando grinned. “Okay, now I’m leaving.”

And with that, he walked out, whistling cheerfully.

Gabby gave them one look before following behind him.

Once the door clicked shut, silence settled over the room.

Sabrina exhaled, looking up at Oscar again. “So.”

Oscar shifted uncomfortably. “So.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “What do we do now?”

He hesitated, then said, “I think this is the part where I properly apologise for being a complete asshole.”

Sabrina snorted, some of the tension finally easing from her shoulders. “Yeah. Probably.”

Oscar met her eyes. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like—like any of that. I was just so nervous all the time that I kept making things worse, and then it snowballed, and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Sabrina watched him for a long moment, like she was deciding whether or not to accept that. Then she sighed. “Okay.”

Oscar blinked. “Okay?”

“I accept your apology,” she said, crossing her arms again. “But you really need to work on your people skills.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. I’ve been told.”

She raised an eyebrow. “By Lando?”

“And everyone else.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “God. This is ridiculous.”

Oscar hesitated. “I, um. I get if this whole thing has been too much, and if you don’t want to—”

“Oh my god, just ask me out,” Sabrina interrupts.

Oscar stops. “What?”

Sabrina gestures vaguely. “You. Me. A date. Because if I have to spend one more week waiting for you to act normal, I will actually lose my mind.”

Oscar swallowed. “Would you say yes?”

Sabrina sighed dramatically. “After all of this? If I say no, I’d just be proving Lando right about us being a disaster.”

Oscar let out a short laugh. “So… will you go out with me?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Yes, Oscar.”

Oscar exhales, something warm settling in his chest. “Okay. Good.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“OH MY GOD,” Lando yells from outside the door. “I KNEW IT.”

Oscar groans. Sabrina bursts into laughter.

And just like that, everything finally made sense.

***

Lando (Car): EVERYONE SHUT UP AND PAY ATTENTION. I HAVE DONE IT. I HAVE SUCCEEDED. I AM A GENIUS.

Lucy (Engineer): …What did you do.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh god, what did you break.

Adam (Hospitality): If this is about your fantasy football league, I’m muting you.

Lando (Car): NO. IT’S EVEN BETTER. I HAVE MATCHMADE. I HAVE FIXED OSCAR PIASTRI.

Lucy (Engineer): That’s a bold claim.

Matt (Mechanic): That’s an impossible claim.

Adam (Hospitality): Fixed in what way? Like, emotionally? That feels out of your skill set.

Lando (Car): OSCAR AND Sabrina ARE GOING ON A DATE. I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS. I AM CUPID. I AM INEVITABLE.

Lucy (Engineer): …What.

Jordan (Marketing): No.

Matt (Mechanic): This is a prank.

Lando (Car): ASK HIM. ASK HER. I DRAGGED HIM TO APOLOGIZE AND HE CONFESSED HIS CRUSH AND THEN SHE SAID YES AND NOW THEY’RE A THING.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh my god.

Adam (Hospitality): I feel like this should be impossible.

Emily (PR): Are we sure she’s not secretly plotting revenge?

Gabby (Social Media): Yeah, I feel like she deserves at least a week to recover from months of psychological warfare before making this decision.

Lando (Car): NOPE. IT’S HAPPENING. I AM A HERO.

Lucy (Engineer): I don’t think that’s the word I’d use.

Adam (Hospitality): Did Oscar even want you to set them up?

Lando (Car): LOL NO.

Matt (Mechanic): So you bullied him into a relationship.

Lando (Car): MATCHMAKING. NOT BULLYING. DIFFERENT.

Gabby (Social Media): Sabrina better make him suffer first, just on principle.

Lucy (Engineer): Yeah, she deserves to be emotionally compensated.

Emily (PR): Someone make sure Oscar doesn’t panic and ruin it before the first date even happens.

Lando (Car): DON’T WORRY. I AM HIS DATING COACH NOW.

Gabby (Social Media): That is so much worse.

Matt (Mechanic): This is a disaster.

Lucy (Engineer): I’m getting popcorn.

Jordan (Marketing): Oh, absolutely.

Adam (Hospitality): We should start a bet on how long it takes before Sabrina realizes dating Oscar is harder than working here.

Lando (Car): Y’ALL HAVE NO FAITH.

Emily (PR): Absolutely not.

Lucy (Engineer): None.

Adam (Hospitality): Zero.

Matt (Mechanic): We have seen him try to talk to her.

Lando (Car): WELL NOW THEY’RE DATING. SO I WIN.

Gabby (Social Media): Bold of you to assume she won’t dump him out of frustration within a week.

Jordan (Marketing): Honestly, I give it three days.

Lando (Car): Y’ALL ARE HATERS. I AM A LEGEND. OSCAR OWES ME HIS LIFE. Sabrina OWES ME HER HAPPINESS. THIS TEAM OWES ME A STATUE.

Matt (Mechanic): …

Lucy (Engineer): Muting him now.

Jordan (Marketing): Same.

***

Lando (Car): UPDATE. THEY ARE ON THE DATE. I REPEAT. THEY ARE ON THE DATE.

Lucy (Engineer): Are you watching them right now?

Jordan (Marketing): Are we… stalking them.

Matt (Mechanic): I just wanna know how long until Oscar panics and spills his drink.

Lando (Car): I’M NOT STALKING. I’M JUST… MAKING SURE MY HARD WORK PAYS OFF.

Gabby (Social Media): You are literally sitting two tables away from them.

Lando (Car): THAT’S CALLED SUPERVISION.

Emily (PR): This is deeply unethical.

Lucy (Engineer): Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re violating like five HR policies right now.

Gabby (Social Media): If HR asks, I was not here.

Matt (Mechanic): So what’s happening?

Lando (Car): OKAY. So. Sabrina is talking. Oscar is nodding. HE HAS NOT SAID A SINGLE WORD.

Lucy (Engineer): Classic.

Jordan (Marketing): Sounds about right.

Lando (Car): Wait. WAIT. HE JUST TRIED TO TALK. HE OPENED HIS MOUTH.

Lucy (Engineer): And?

Lando (Car): HE KNOCKED OVER HIS WATER GLASS INSTEAD.

Lucy (Engineer): Of course he did.

Gabby (Social Media): That’s our boy.

Emily (PR): Was it a full glass?

Lando (Car): OH IT WAS VERY FULL. IT HAS NOW ENTERED Sabrina’S LAP.

Jordan (Marketing): Jesus Christ.

Lucy (Engineer): It’s over. She’s leaving.

Adam (Hospitality): There is no coming back from this.

Lando (Car): NO WAIT SHE’S LAUGHING.

Matt (Mechanic): What?

Lucy (Engineer): …Why??

Adam (Hospitality): Is she okay??

Lando (Car): I THINK SHE JUST ACCEPTED THAT HE’S A DISASTER AND IS EMBRACING IT.

Gabby (Social Media): Honestly, that’s the only way this relationship survives.

Emily (PR): I have no words.

Matt (Mechanic): Is Oscar okay?

Lando (Car): HE LOOKS LIKE HE WANTS TO CRAWL UNDER THE TABLE BUT SHE’S SMILING AT HIM. HE MIGHT SURVIVE THIS.

Gabby (Social Media): Sabrina is way too kind for this world.

Jordan (Marketing): Should we be worried about her decision-making skills?

Gabby (Social Media): Absolutely.

Lando (Car): GUYS GUYS SHE JUST PUT HER HAND ON HIS ARM. THIS IS PROGRESS.

Matt (Mechanic): Do you think he’s gonna pass out?

Lucy (Engineer): 50/50 chance.

Jordan (Marketing): Do we have a medic on standby?

Adam (Hospitality): I bet he overthinks it and freezes.

Lando (Car): HE’S JUST STARING AT HER HAND LIKE IT’S A COMPLEX MATH PROBLEM.

Matt (Mechanic): Yeah, that tracks.

Lucy (Engineer): What’s the over/under on him panicking and excusing himself to the bathroom for like ten minutes.

Adam (Hospitality): Already placing bets.

Lando (Car): I AM SO PROUD. MY BOY IS ON A DATE. HE’S FLAILING BUT HE’S ON A DATE.

Emily (PR): This is the single most unhinged group chat I have ever been part of.

Gabby (Social Media): Agreed.

Matt (Mechanic): Not even top five, honestly.

Lando (Car): I WILL UPDATE YOU ALL LATER. STAY TUNED.

Lucy (Engineer): God help us all.

Lando (Car): OKAY UPDATE. OSCAR SURVIVED THE HAND ON ARM INCIDENT. BARELY.

Lucy (Engineer): Define “barely.”

Matt (Mechanic): Is he still breathing?

Lando (Car): Yes. But he was so still for like a full 30 seconds that I thought he had short-circuited.

Adam (Hospitality): He probably did.

Gabby (Social Media): The man is a Windows XP loading screen in human form.

Lando (Car): Anyway. They’re talking again. I can’t hear what they’re saying but Sabrina just tilted her head like she’s curious about something.

Emily (PR): Oh god. What did he say?

Lando (Car): I HAVE NO IDEA BUT HIS FACE IS COMPLETELY RED.

Matt (Mechanic): He probably just apologized for spilling the water… again.

Lucy (Engineer): That’s fair. But also, is it too much to ask for him to just act normal for one date?

Gabby (Social Media): Yes.

Adam (Hospitality): Highly unrealistic expectations.

Lando (Car): HOLY SHIT WAIT. HE JUST MADE HER LAUGH. ON PURPOSE.

Lucy (Engineer): No way.

Matt (Mechanic): That doesn’t sound right.

Adam (Hospitality): Are you sure she’s laughing with him and not at him?

Lando (Car): It looked intentional???

Emily (PR): Are you absolutely certain?

Lando (Car): No.

Jordan (Marketing): Reasonable.

Lando (Car): BUT SHE’S STILL SMILING AND HE LOOKS LIKE HE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE RELAXING.

Lucy (Engineer): Impossible.

Adam (Hospitality): Sounds fake.

Matt (Mechanic): I won’t believe it until we see proof.

Lando (Car): WELL GOOD NEWS. I HAVE FOOTAGE.

Emily (PR): Lando, please tell me you did not just record them on their date.

Lando (Car): I may or may not have.

Jordan (Marketing): That is so creepy.

Lucy (Engineer): So send it.

Adam (Hospitality): Yeah, we need evidence.

Lando (Car): SENDING…

(Lando has sent one video.)

Matt (Mechanic): …Wait. Is this actually real???

Lucy (Engineer): He did make her laugh.

Jordan (Marketing): She leans in a little too.

Adam (Hospitality): This is history.

Emily (PR): I hate that we’re all so emotionally invested in this.

Lando (Car): GUYS WAIT—

Jordan (Marketing):: Oh no.

Matt (Mechanic): What?

Lando (Car): HE JUST LOOKED AT HER LIPS.

Lucy (Engineer): 😳

Adam (Hospitality): 😳

Jordan (Marketing):: 😳

Matt (Mechanic): 😳

Gabby (Social Media): …Are we about to witness Oscar Piastri actually kissing someone???

Lando (Car): I DON’T KNOW BUT HE IS THINKING ABOUT IT. I CAN SEE IT.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh my god.

Gabby (Social Media): Sabrina just tucked her hair behind her ear. That’s the universal “I like you” sign.

Matt (Mechanic): This is HUGE.

Lando (Car): GUYS HE’S GONNA DO IT. HE’S GONNA—

Gabby (Social Media): DON’T JINX IT.

Lando (Car): OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE. HE JUST PANICKED AND LOOKED AWAY.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh my god.

Adam (Hospitality): This idiot.

Matt (Mechanic): The sheer whiplash.

Lucy (Engineer): This is painful to witness.

Emily (PR): Someone go shake some sense into him.

Lando (Car): I AM SO MAD.

Gabby (Social Media): We were so close.

Lucy (Engineer): Classic Oscar Piastri.

Matt (Mechanic): What now.

Lando (Car): I AM FORMULATING A PLAN.

Jordan (Marketing):: God help us.

Emily (PR): Please don’t make it worse.

Lando (Car): I will get these two together if it’s the last thing I do.

Gabby (Social Media): Let’s be honest, it probably will be.

Lucy (Engineer): R.I.P. Lando Norris. Cause of death: excessive matchmaking attempts.

Gabby (Social Media): We’ll put it on your tombstone.

Lando (Car): YOU’LL THANK ME WHEN THIS WORKS.

Gabby (Social Media): Big if.

Emily (PR): Huge if.

Lando (Car): You’ll see. 😈

Lando (Car): OKAY. NEW PLAN.

Gabby (Social Media): Oh no.

Lucy (Engineer): Here we go.

Matt (Mechanic): I’m scared.

Jordan (Marketing):: We should be.

Emily (PR): Lando, I beg you to reconsider whatever you’re about to say.

Lando (Car): TOO LATE. I’M TEXTING OSCAR RIGHT NOW.

Adam (Hospitality): About what?

Lando (Car): ABOUT HOW HE NEEDS TO STOP BEING A COWARD AND KISS HER.

Matt (Mechanic): …During the date?

Lucy (Engineer): Oh my god.

Jordan (Marketing):: He’s going to see you texting him.

Gabby (Social Media): Lando, no.

Lando (Car): Lando, yes.

(Lando has sent a screenshot.)

Lando (Car): SENT.

Matt (Mechanic): …“KISS THE GIRL YOU COWARD.”

Gabby (Social Media): That’s what you went with???

Jordan (Marketing):: Subtle.

Lucy (Engineer): Elegant.

Emily (PR): Deranged.

Lando (Car): Well, he just looked at his phone.

Gabby (Social Media): Oh god.

Matt (Mechanic): How’s he reacting?

Lando (Car): He blinked. Like, twice. Real fast.

Adam (Hospitality): That means he’s panicking.

Gabby (Social Media): Yeah, that’s a full system reboot.

Lando (Car): WAIT. HE JUST PUT HIS PHONE DOWN AND SAID SOMETHING TO HER.

Lucy (Engineer): WHAT DID HE SAY.

Lando (Car): I DON’T KNOW, I CAN’T LIP READ. BUT SHE’S SMILING.

Matt (Mechanic): HOLY SHIT.

Gabby (Social Media): If this works, I take back everything I said.

Lucy (Engineer): No you won’t.

Gabby (Social Media): Yeah, no I won’t.

Lando (Car): HE’S LEANING IN.

Gabby (Social Media): OH MY GOD.

Adam (Hospitality): I’M GOING TO THROW UP.

Gabby (Social Media): IT’S HAPPENING.

Jordan (Marketing): SOMEONE RECORD THIS.

Emily (PR): DO NOT RECORD THIS.

Lando (Car): I ALREADY AM.

(Lando has sent one video.)

Gabby (Social Media): HOLY SHIT HE DID IT.

Gabby (Social Media): I NEED A MOMENT.

Matt (Mechanic): HE ACTUALLY KISSED HER.

Jordan (Marketing):: I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS WORKED.

Emily (PR): Delete the video. Right now.

Lando (Car): Absolutely not.

Matt (Mechanic): He’s still alive, right? Like, he didn’t just immediately short-circuit and pass out?

Lando (Car): Barely.

Lucy (Engineer): I think we should all take a moment to recognize the true hero here.

Jordan (Marketing):: Lando?

Lucy (Engineer): Lando.

Matt (Mechanic): Lando.

Gabby (Social Media): Please don’t encourage him.

Lando (Car): You’re all so welcome. 😌

***

#formula 1 #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 grid fanfiction #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #Oscar Piastri smau #Oscar Piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine

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chrrybbmb · 2 months ago

Text

LITTLE THINGS

STARRING ... BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER!M. YOONGI X READER

WORD COUNT ... 4.7K

SUMMARY ... it was the little things.

NOTES/WARNINGS ... happy min suga day everyone!!! a double update today, wowww. slight(? five years) age gap. based in the 2000s. growing up with yoongi and reader. underaged drinking. slightly suggestive towards the end. let me know if i missed anything.

playlist : crush (david archuleta). you belong with me (taylor swift). do i wanna know (arctic monkeys). just a little bit (maria mena). somewhere only we know (keane). teenage dirtbag (wheatus). the only exception (paramore). cigarette daydreams (cage the elephant). hate that you know me (bleachers). kiss me slowly (parachutes).

the first time you swore marriage to yoongi, you were five and he was ten. you, his sister, and him were all at the playground, and you and his sister had decided to just spend the day trip in the sandpit.

your loving declaration was made shortly after yoongi hit one of the other boys there in the face with his skateboard after he made you cry by saying that you had cooties.

the first time yoongi swore marriage to you, you were eight and he was thirteen. you and his sister were sitting cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, cutting pictures out of an old magazine, when the topic of boys being gross came up.

"they are," you insisted, wrinkling your nose as you snipped a model’s head clean off his body. "all of them."

"not all boys are gross," yoongi said from where he was lying on his stomach by the door, flipping through a comic book. he didn’t even look up, just turned the page like this was a casual debate he was only half-invested in.

"yeah, they are," you shot back.

"you’re marrying me," he said simply, like that settled it.

"i am not." you stuck your tongue out at him.

"guess i’ll just have to marry you instead, then," he said, propping himself up on his elbows and smirking.

"ew," his sister said.

"yeah, ew," you agreed.

yoongi just laughed, flipping another page with a half lazy smirk.

you were thirteen when you stopped idolizing yoongi and started seeing him for what he was—your best friend's older brother.

maybe it happened gradually, in the way he stopped lingering in doorways or teasing you when you and his sister whispered in her room. maybe it happened all at once, the day he turned eighteen and left like it was the easiest thing in the world. either way, by the time you realized, it was already too late.

he was gone. not gone gone, but whisked away into adulthood like it had been waiting for him just beyond the front porch. he stopped coming home as much, stopped letting his sister drag him into your sleepover games or chase him down the hall when he stole a hair tie off her wrist.

"he's so annoying," his sister huffed one day, flopping onto her bed after yet another unanswered text. "it's like he thinks he's too cool for us now."

you just hummed, staring at your phone screen, at a group picture taken last summer—the three of you, arms slung over each other's shoulders, sun in your eyes and sand stuck to your knees.

maybe he did think he was too cool for you now. maybe he was right.

he would come home every summer, but those summers were never actually spent at home. you'd catch two-minute glimpses of him before he’d run off to some party or to skate with the other boys.

sometimes, you’d see him in the kitchen, rifling through the fridge for something to eat before disappearing out the back door. other times, it was in the driveway, slamming the car door shut while some guy leaned on the hood, waiting for him to hurry up.

"yoongi," his mom would call after him. "you just got here!"

"i know, i know," he’d say, already halfway down the front steps.

he never looked back, not even when his sister rolled her eyes and mimicked his voice under her breath, making you laugh.

but sometimes, if you stayed up late enough, you’d hear him come back. the rattle of the doorknob, the creak of the stairs. the sound of his skateboard dropping to the floor just outside his room.

once, when you were sixteen, you caught him on the front porch lighting a cigarette.

"that’s bad for you," you said, stepping outside.

he glanced over his shoulder, barely reacting. "so’s fast food, and i don’t see you giving up mcdonald’s."

"that’s different."

"not really." he took a slow drag, blowing the smoke into the warm night air. then he looked at you properly for the first time all summer, eyes flicking down like he was seeing something new. "you got taller."

"yeah," you said, crossing your arms. "it happens."

he huffed a little laugh, pressing the cigarette to his lips again. "guess it does."

the first time yoongi sees you drunk, you’re seventeen.

his sister’s sleazebag of a boyfriend had invited the two of you to some rager in his backyard, and—against your better judgment—you both went. one drink turned into three, cheap booze and cruisers passed around like candy, and before you knew it, everything was a little too funny, a little too bright, and walking in a straight line became a distant memory.

yoongi had to be called to pick you up.

"she’s fine," his sister slurred into the phone, waving you off when you giggled at absolutely nothing. "we’re both fine. just hurry up."

he showed up fifteen minutes later, standing in the middle of the chaos with a look of absolute disinterest, like he’d rather be anywhere else. some guy slapped his shoulder on the way out, muttering something about taking a shot, and yoongi ignored him completely.

"we’re not even that drunk," his sister insisted when he found you both slumped together on the back steps.

"yeah?" yoongi scoffed, hooking his hands under your arms and hauling you up first. "you can barely keep your eyes open."

"neither can you," you mumbled against his shoulder, words slurring together as he steadied you.

"that’s because it’s two in the morning," he said, half-dragging, half-guiding you toward his car. "come on, let’s go before i have to deal with any more of these idiots."

you blinked up at him once you were in the passenger seat, head lolling against the window. "you’re kind of mean."

he rolled his eyes, reaching over to buckle you in. "and you’re kind of wasted."

you frowned. "i was having fun."

"i’m sure you were." he shut the door with a sigh, rounding the car to help his sister next.

you don’t remember much else. not the drive home, not the way you leaned your head against the seat and mumbled something about how he smelled like mint and cigarette smoke.

but you do remember this—yoongi didn’t laugh at you that night. didn’t tease or call you a lightweight like you thought he would.

he just drove you home, silent, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

the first time yoongi brings home a girlfriend, you’re eighteen.

it’s the middle of july, hot enough that even the a/c struggles, and you and his sister are sprawled across the couch, flipping through a stack of magazines you found buried in her closet. it’s a slow, lazy afternoon—until the front door swings open, and yoongi walks in with her.

she’s blonde. tan. wearing a rhinestone-studded tank top that says JUICY in bubble letters across the front. her white miniskirt is just barely hanging on, and her lip gloss shines like it was applied with a paint roller.

his sister freezes first, fingers tightening on the magazine in her lap. you feel it a second later, the way the air in the room shifts.

"who’s this?" his mom asks from the kitchen.

"this is sena," yoongi says, arm slung low around the girl’s waist.

"hi!" she chirps, all smiles. "it’s so nice to finally meet you guys!"

his sister leans in, voice low. "she looks like she’d be on girls gone wild."

you press your lips together, flipping a page. "swear i’ve seen her in hustler."

yoongi hears. of course he hears. his head snaps toward the both of you, eyes narrowing in warning. his mom’s hard look follows right after, the same one she gives when the two of you are this close to getting grounded.

but the girlfriend just giggles, leaning into yoongi’s arm like she didn’t just hear you indirectly call her a porn star.

"yoongles, they’re so funny!" she coos, poking his cheek with a manicured nail.

his sister chokes. you slap a hand over your mouth. yoongi just closes his eyes for a long, long second, re-evaluating every decision that’s led him here.

his mom sighs. "well, sena," she says, ever the gracious host, "do you want something to drink?"

sena beams. "oh my god, totally. do you guys have diet pepsi?"

yoongi’s sister makes a strangled sound and bolts up the stairs before she completely loses it. you barely manage to keep it together long enough to watch sena drag yoongi toward the kitchen, still giggling, still calling him that.

as soon as they’re out of earshot, you grab your phone and text his sister, only two words:

yoongles. help.

there were many girlfriends after that. a new one almost every two months.

some were blonde, some were brunette, some had the same rhinestone-studded tank tops and miniskirts, and some wore ripped jeans and band tees like they were too cool for the rest of the world. none of them lasted.

yoongi was home a lot more now, at twenty-three, taking a break from college. no one really knew if it was temporary or if he was done for good, but he never said much about it. just shrugged whenever his mom asked and said something about needing time to figure things out.

whatever figuring out he was doing, though, it didn’t stop him from sliding right back into old habits. back to the skater boy that left his dirty socks in the living room and took too long in the bathroom.

"he’s so annoying," his sister groaned one morning, kicking at a pair of his sneakers abandoned by the front door.

"you’ve said that every year since you could talk," you muttered, flipping through the tv channels.

"yeah, and he gets more annoying every year."

you hummed, pausing on mtv cribs.

yoongi was still asleep upstairs, last night’s girlfriend long gone, leaving behind a stray bobby pin on the coffee table and the faintest trace of vanilla perfume in the air.

it was always like this now. he’d crash at home for a few months, fill the house with girls and late-night cigarette smoke, and then disappear again just when you started getting used to him being around.

but for now, he was here. twenty-three, aimless, and completely unaware that yoongles had officially become a household joke behind his back.

your first boyfriend comes into your life at nineteen.

he’s nice. polite. a little vanilla, but sweet in the way that boys who don’t know how to be anything else are. he opens doors for you, remembers your coffee order, and always texts you good morning and good night.

"you’re so going to marry him," yoongi’s sister teases one night, sprawled across her bed with a bag of chips between you.

"right?" you giggle, flipping through a magazine. cosmo, this time. ten ways to know he’s the one.

"he’s so boring," yoongi mutters from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

you and his sister share a look before bursting into laughter.

"he’s nice," you correct, tilting your head at him. "you wouldn’t know what that looks like."

yoongi rolls his eyes. "you’re gonna be miserable in a year."

"you’re just mad i actually found someone who wants to date me."

he scoffs, but doesn’t argue. just watches as his sister steals another chip from the bag and nudges you with her elbow.

"remember when you were five and promised to marry him?" she grins, jerking her thumb toward yoongi.

you wrinkle your nose. "i was a kid."

"still happened," yoongi says, so annoyingly smug about it.

"doesn’t count," you shoot back.

his sister nods, backing you up. "yeah, childhood delusions don’t count."

"whatever," yoongi mumbles, pushing off the doorframe. "don’t come crying to me when you realize i was right."

he disappears down the hall, and you roll your eyes, turning back to your magazine.

"he’s so weird," you say.

his sister snickers. "he’s so jealous."

"he's so gross," you say, wrinkling your nose as you pop a chip into your mouth.

"right?" his sister snickers, shoving another handful into hers. "like, who even says that?"

you shake your head, flipping another page in your cosmo, but your mind is still half-stuck on it—on the way yoongi had leaned against the doorway, arms crossed like he was so sure you’d regret dating someone who was, for once, actually nice to you.

like he knew something you didn’t. like he thought it was funny.

it wasn’t. it was weird. he was weird.

and yet, later that night, when your boyfriend texts you something sweet, something corny and cute, you hesitate before answering.

because suddenly, yoongi’s voice is stuck in your head.

"you’re gonna be miserable in a year."

weird. so weird.

your first heartbreak comes later that year, getting dumped after refusing to put out.

it’s not dramatic. no screaming, no public fight. just a quiet, awkward conversation in the front seat of his car, parked outside your house.

"i just think we’re in different places," he says, hands tight around the steering wheel, like he’s bracing for impact.

"yeah," you say, voice flat. "guess so."

and that’s it. he drops you off and drives away, and you stand in the driveway for a full minute before going inside like nothing happened.

his sister is the first to find out.

"that asshole," she huffs, throwing a handful of popcorn at the tv like that somehow avenges you. "i always knew he was too polite. like, fake polite. like one of those guys who probably tells people he’s a feminist but still reads playboy mags."

you groan, flopping onto her bed. "he does not have playboy mags."

"bet he does."

you let out a weak laugh, staring at the ceiling. you’re not going to cry. not over him. it’s just—it sucks.

the next person to find out is, unfortunately, yoongi.

he’s home when it happens, freshly twenty-four and still lounging around like he has nowhere better to be. you don’t tell him, obviously. his sister does, loud and unfiltered, while you sit at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal and pretend not to care.

"she got dumped," she announces, stealing a spoonful from your bowl.

yoongi, who’s digging through the fridge, snorts. "called it."

"fuck off," you mutter, shoving cereal in your mouth so you don’t have to say anything else.

but yoongi just leans against the counter, watching you with that same smug expression, like he’s been waiting for this.

"should’ve married me when you had the chance," he says.

you glare. his sister wheezes.

"oh my god, you’re so gross," you groan, pushing your chair back. "i’m leaving."

"good," yoongi calls after you. "don’t come crying to me!"

you flip him off over your shoulder. his laughter follows you all the way up the stairs.

you do, in fact, go crying to him.

a full year later, the night his sister leaves for college with a hug, a promise to call you every day, and an assignment to take care of yoongi for her.

you were the wrong person to choose for said assignment.

because first of all, who takes care of yoongi? no one. the man is self-sufficient to a fault, fueled by nicotine and whatever questionable food he picks up at the convenience store at ungodly hours. and second, you have your own life to deal with. your own problems.

like the fact that, hours after his sister’s car disappears down the street, you’re inexplicably, overwhelmingly sad.

the house is too quiet.

the realization hits you all at once—your best friend is gone, off in some dorm room, making new friends, starting a new life, and even though she swore you’d always be her person, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s not here anymore.

so you do what any emotionally stable, well-adjusted adult would do.

you cry about it.

and—because you’re terrible at making good decisions—you cry about it in yoongi’s room.

"you’re so dramatic," yoongi mutters, handing you a tissue as you curl up on the floor beside his bed.

"am not," you sniff, blowing your nose miserably. "you just don’t get it."

"i get it," he says. "i just don’t think it’s worth ugly crying over."

"fuck you."

he smirks, sitting back against the headboard, lazily flipping through a notebook. "not even gonna buy me dinner first?"

you throw the tissue box at him.

he dodges, barely, but there’s amusement in his eyes when he glances down at you again, tapping his pen against his knee.

"she’ll be fine, you know," he says, voice quieter now. "you will too."

you don’t say anything, just sniffle again, swiping at your damp cheeks.

a beat passes. "you can stay, if you want."

you blink. yoongi never offers things like that.

he doesn’t meet your eyes, already scribbling something down in his notebook. "just don’t—" he cuts himself off, sighs. "don’t cry on my floor all night, okay?"

you huff, curling deeper into yourself. "no promises."

he rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t tell you to leave.

somehow, you end up in his bed.

you don’t really know how it happens—maybe you got tired of the floor, maybe yoongi got tired of hearing you sniffle—but at some point, you end up curled against his side, face smushed into his hoodie, still crying like some pathetic, abandoned child.

"jesus," he mutters, hand hovering awkwardly over your back. "you’re actually so annoying."

"you offered," you croak, voice muffled against his chest.

"yeah, well, i take it back." but he doesn’t move you. doesn’t shove you off or complain when your fingers clutch at the fabric of his hoodie because you need something to hold onto.

instead, he sighs—long, put-upon—and lets his hand drop against your back, an awkward, barely-there pat.

it’s dumb. the whole thing is dumb. you’re an adult now, and your best friend is literally a phone call away, and yet here you are, crying like a baby in yoongi’s bed.

but he doesn’t kick you out. doesn’t make fun of you like he normally would. just lies there, letting you fall apart on his hoodie, his hand never moving from your back.

"yoongi?" your voice is small, choked.

he shifts, chin resting against the top of your head. "what?"

"thanks."

he exhales sharply, and for a second, you swear you feel him smile.

"whatever," he mutters, voice softer than it should be. "go to sleep."

and—because it’s yoongi, because he’s warm, because his hoodie smells like laundry detergent and cigarette smoke and home—you do.

when you’re not sleeping in your best friend’s bed, you’re sleeping in yoongi’s.

it’s not on purpose. at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

the first time, you’d been too exhausted to go back to your own room. you’d fallen asleep curled up against his side, and when you woke up in the morning, he was already up, sitting at his desk, acting like you hadn’t just drooled on his hoodie all night.

the second time, it was his fault.

"you’re just gonna cry in my room again anyway," he’d said when he saw you hovering by his door, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands like some kind of orphaned child. "just get in bed and shut up about it."

so you had.

and then it just...kept happening.

some nights, you still slept in your best friend’s bed out of habit, curling up under the same floral-patterned blanket you’d both been using since you were kids. but most nights, you ended up in yoongi’s instead.

"this is getting weird," he’d grumbled one night when you crawled under the covers beside him, poking at his ribs until he moved over.

"then kick me out."

he sighed. "too much work."

and that was that.

there were rules, though. unspoken ones.

you didn’t talk about it. not in the morning, not when his mom raised an eyebrow at the way you emerged from his room stretching, not even when your best friend teased you over the phone.

("ew, you’re sleeping in yoongi’s bed?" she’d laughed. "have some self-respect.")

you didn’t cuddle. you weren’t like that. yoongi kept to his side, you kept to yours, and that was that.

and, most importantly—it didn’t mean anything.

because if it did, then you’d have to admit that something had shifted. that somewhere along the way, the teasing, the eye-rolls, the years of bickering had stopped feeling so familiar, so easy, and had started feeling like something else entirely.

and you weren’t ready for that. not yet.

the first time you realize something’s changed, it’s at a party.

it’s one of those loud, hazy, sticky summer nights, the kind where the air is thick with humidity and the scent of cheap beer and cigarette smoke clings to your clothes before you’ve even stepped inside.

you don’t know why you came. maybe because your best friend begged you to actually go out for once, or maybe because you knew he would be here.

yoongi isn’t hard to find. he’s never hard to find.

he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, lazily sipping from a red cup, one arm draped over the back of some girl’s chair. she’s pretty—they always are—laughing at something he just said, leaning into him like she wants to be the next one.

you tell yourself you don’t care. that you’ve seen this before, that it means nothing, that you have absolutely no reason to feel the way you do right now.

but then he looks up.

his eyes find yours across the room, and something in his expression shifts—just barely, just enough for you to notice.

and just like that, you’re somewhere else.

somewhere months ago, slipping under his blankets, stealing his warmth on cold nights. somewhere in the early mornings, waking up to the sound of his deep, slow breathing before slipping out of his bed unnoticed.

somewhere you shouldn’t be.

but you’re here now, in a room full of people, and he’s still looking at you.

you swallow, breaking eye contact first, pushing past bodies and slipping outside.

you don’t run, exactly, but it feels like you do.

the air is cooler out here, quieter, and you take a slow breath, pressing your hands to your flushed cheeks.

and then—"running away?"

yoongi’s voice. behind you.

you turn, and he’s standing in the doorway, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other still holding his drink.

"no," you say too quickly. "just needed air."

"bullshit." he steps closer, the warm glow from the porch light casting soft shadows across his face.

you roll your eyes. "why do you care?"

"i don’t," he says, but he doesn’t walk away. doesn’t leave you alone like he should.

he just watches you, like he’s trying to figure something out.

and then—"you look good."

your breath catches.

it’s stupid, it’s so stupid, because he’s probably said that a hundred times to a hundred different girls, but this time it’s you.

and it feels different.

"you’re drunk," you mutter, arms crossed.

"not really."

you don’t know what to say to that.

so you say nothing, looking away, looking anywhere but at him.

but then—his fingers graze your wrist.

just barely. just enough.

and suddenly, it’s very clear that something between you isn’t the same anymore.

the first time you kiss yoongi, it’s his birthday.

he’s turning twenty-seven. his hair is still bleached, the pale blonde grown out a bit at the roots, and he looks different now—older, sharper—but somehow still the same yoongi you’ve always known.

there’s no party. no drunken celebration or crowded apartment full of strangers. just a quiet night at home, the way his mom prefers it. the way he prefers it. dinner, cake, a movie. the whole family—plus you, of course.

his mom had gone to bed hours ago. his sister was passed out on the couch, curled up in the same blanket she’d been buried under for most of the movie.

and you’d just wanted a drink of water. but when you turn around, glass still in hand, he’s there. leaning against the counter, watching you with that lazy, unreadable expression.

"where’s my present?" he asks.

you blink. "you already opened my present."

it’s true. you’d given him a new set of headphones, something he’d offhandedly mentioned needing months ago, and he’d actually smiled when he unwrapped them. a real one.

but now he just hums, stepping closer. "not that one."

"what—"

and then he cuts you off with a kiss.

it’s soft, at first. hesitant, testing. but when you don’t pull away—when your breath catches, when your fingers tighten around the glass still in your hand—he presses in deeper, tilting his head, lips parting against yours like he’s been waiting for this.

you don’t know who moves first. don’t know if you drop the glass or if he takes it from you, if you step closer or if he pulls you in.

all you know is that it’s him. yoongi.

his hands on your waist, the faint scent of birthday cake and cigarette smoke clinging to his hoodie, the way he exhales so softly against your lips before pulling away just enough to look at you.

yoongi lifts you like it’s nothing.

hands firm at your waist, he hoists you up onto the counter, slotting himself between your legs before you can even catch your breath. the cold marble is a shock against your bare thighs, but the warmth of his hands is hotter, grounding, spreading heat everywhere.

you’re wearing an oversized band tee—his band tee. he notices. his fingers slip beneath the hem, just barely, thumbs brushing slow circles over your skin.

"you’re such a thief," he mutters, mouth ghosting over yours, not kissing you yet, just lingering.

"you gave it to me," you breathe, blinking up at him.

he huffs a soft laugh, lips twitching. "you stole it."

"and yet, you never asked for it back."

he hums, tilting his head. "maybe i liked seeing you in it."

you don’t have a chance to process that, because then he’s kissing you again. deeper. slower. hungrier. you don’t even realize your hands are in his hair until you feel the strands slipping through your fingers.

yoongi groans, low, deep, and the sound goes straight through you.

his hands tighten on your thighs, pressing you closer, and you feel it, the way his fingers tremble, just a little, like he’s holding back.

you don’t say anything. just pull him in, legs wrapping around his waist, fingers tugging him even closer.

"yoongi," you murmur against his lips after a moment, breathless, dazed, hands still tangled in his hair.

"mm?" he hums, mouth trailing, kissing along your jaw, slow, lazy, like he has all the time in the world. and maybe he does. maybe you do.

except—

"your sister is in the living room," you remind him, voice barely above a whisper, fingers tightening against his hoodie.

he stills, and there’s a beat of silence. then he groans, low and frustrated, forehead dropping against your shoulder.

"you have the worst timing," he mutters, his hands gripping your thighs, debating whether or not to just pretend you didn’t say anything.

you laugh, breathy, threading your fingers through his hair. "we’re in your mom’s kitchen," you point out. "next to the fridge. literally anyone could walk in."

he huffs, pulling back just enough to look at you—really look at you. your lips are swollen, your shirt is crooked, still drowning you. and suddenly, he wants. wants to stay here, wants to ignore reality, wants to kiss you until the sun comes up.

but you’re right.

(you’re always right, and it’s so fucking annoying.)

he sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. "fine," he grumbles. "you win."

you grin. "i always do."

he rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it, stepping back, hands slipping from your thighs way too slowly, like he doesn’t really want to let go. "come on," he mutters, offering a hand. "before you ruin my life even more."

you take it, hop down, straighten your shirt, and try not to laugh at the way he adjusts his way too obvious boner when he thinks you’re not looking.

"hey, yoongi?" you say as he leads you out of the kitchen.

"what?"

you smirk. "happy birthday."

his eyes flick to you, and something shifts again, something deep, something you don’t have a name for yet. then, his mouth quirks into something almost fond, and he squeezes your hand before finally letting go.

"thanks, brat."

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