#some designs got changed around but only slightly

[theshiningdiamond]

(claps) alright, finally got to finish off this which i started back in January! Definitely one of the more fun animatics I've done with UTMV personalities!

Personalities based on original AUS and @seirindono's The Missing Scarf comic(you should totally read it!). Their character Mel joins all the boys at the game table

[laugtherhyena]

Okay so maybe the wrinkly split head devil isn't the Aging devil itself, since it being called aging definitelly feels like a mistranslation and and public safety wanting to erase old age by sacrificing the younger generation fits the point the chapter is trying to get across much nicer than if the devil was aging itself (+ if you think about it for 2 seconds erasing aging as a whole is a terrible fucking idea since no one will be able to grow anything anymore and people will be stuck as babies and kids forever whereas erasing old age should just make people not age past adulthood and probably cause people who are already elderly to just dissapear on the spot)

But that doesn't mean i'm keeping Cherryboy the exact same because if old age specifically is enough to achieve primal fear level then aging as a whole has gotta be one too. So hooray! someone's getting a slight revamp in the future :)

[pucksandpower]

War Is Over

Lewis Hamilton x Rosberg!Reader

Summary: Lewis parks his car … right into his best friend-turned-nemesis’ little sister (and somehow reunites Brocedes in the process)

Warnings: descriptions of serious injury

Note: the fact that he not only won a race again but it was his home race … this calls for a Lewis Hamilton fic 🥹

The Monaco sun glints off sleek sports cars lining the streets as Lewis navigates his Mercedes through the winding roads. He’s running late for dinner with some sponsors and the traffic is only making things worse.

Lewis mutters under his breath, “Come on, come on. Just need to park this thing ...”

He spots an open space in front of the restaurant and starts to maneuver in, glancing at his watch. The ticking seconds only increase his frustration.

“Bloody hell, why is parking always such a nightmare here?”

Lewis throws the car into reverse, not bothering to look behind him. He’s done this a thousand times before. What could possibly go wrong?

The sickening thud comes a split second before he slams on the brakes. His heart leaps into his throat as he whips around, praying he just hit a trash bin or something.

But the crumpled form on the ground is undeniably human.

“Oh God, oh God, no ...” Lewis fumbles with his seatbelt, hands shaking as he bursts out of the car. “Please be okay, please be okay ...”

He drops to his knees beside the prone figure, a young woman with long hair obscuring her face. Blood is already pooling beneath her head.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” Lewis gently brushes the hair back, and his world stops.

It’s you. Nico’s little sister. The girl he’s known since she was in pigtails, cheering from the sidelines at their early karting races.

Lewis’ jaw drops open as the full horror of what he’s done sinks in. “Y/N? Oh God, Y/N, please wake up!”

He cradles your head, heedless of the blood staining his designer shirt. Your eyes remain closed, skin alarmingly pale.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Lewis shouts, his voice cracking with panic. “Please, somebody help!”

A crowd starts to gather, murmurs of shock and recognition rippling through them. Lewis barely notices, focused solely on your still form.

“Y/N, come on, open your eyes. Please, you have to be okay,” he pleads, gently patting your cheek. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, I swear I didn’t mean to ...”

Your eyelids flutter, a soft groan escaping your lips. Lewis nearly sobs with relief.

“That’s it, that’s it. Can you hear me? It’s Lewis. You’re going to be alright.”

Your eyes open, unfocused and confused. “Lewis? What ... what happened?”

“Don’t try to move, okay? There was an accident. Help is on the way.”

You try to sit up, wincing in pain. “My head ...”

“Shh, just stay still. I’ve got you.” Lewis supports your shoulders, keeping you from moving too much.

“Did ... did you hit me with your car?” Your voice is small, disbelieving.

Lewis swallows hard. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t see you, I swear. God, Y/N, I would never ...”

You manage a weak smile. “Always knew you’d be the death of me, Hamilton.”

Despite everything, Lewis can’t help but chuckle. “Don’t joke about that. You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry to ruin your evening,” you mumble, eyes starting to drift closed again.

“Hey, hey, stay with me.” Lewis gently taps your cheek. “Keep those eyes open, okay? Talk to me.”

You force your eyes open. “About what?”

“Anything. Tell me ... tell me what you’re doing in Monaco. Are you visiting Nico?”

You shake your head slightly, then wince. “No, I ... I moved here. Got a job at the yacht club.”

“Really? That’s great. When did that happen?”

“Few months ago. Needed ... needed a change of scenery.”

Lewis nods, desperately trying to keep you engaged. “I get that. Monaco’s beautiful. Although the parking situation leaves something to be desired,” he adds wryly.

You manage a weak laugh, then grimace. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Lewis glances around anxiously. “Where’s that damn ambulance?”

As if on cue, sirens wail in the distance. Lewis breathes a sigh of relief.

“Help’s coming, Y/N. Just hang on a little longer, okay?”

You nod slightly, eyes becoming unfocused again. “Lewis?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell Nico.”

Lewis’ heart clenches. “Y/N ...”

“Please. He’ll kill you. And then me. For being stupid enough to walk behind a car without looking.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Lewis insists. “I should have checked my mirrors. I was distracted, rushing ...”

You shake your head stubbornly. “Promise me. Don’t tell him.”

Lewis hesitates. “Y/N, I can’t just ...”

“Promise,” you repeat, gripping his arm with surprising strength.

Lewis sighs. “Okay, okay. I promise. But he’s going to find out eventually.”

“Let me handle it. When I’m not ... you know. Bleeding on the pavement.”

The ambulance pulls up, paramedics jumping out. Lewis reluctantly moves aside to let them work, hovering anxiously.

“Sir, can you tell us what happened?” One of the paramedics asks as they begin assessing your injuries.

Lewis runs a hand through his hair. “I ... I hit her with my car. I was backing up and didn’t see her. It was an accident, I swear.”

The paramedic nods, focused on taking your vitals. “Miss, can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N Rosberg,” you mumble.

The paramedic’s eyes widen slightly in recognition, but he remains professional. “Alright, Y/N. We’re going to get you to the hospital. Just try to stay still for me.”

As they prepare to move you onto a stretcher, Lewis steps forward. “Can I ride with her?”

The paramedic hesitates. “Are you family?”

“No, but I’m ... I’m responsible for this. Please, I need to make sure she’s okay.”

You reach out weakly, grasping Lewis’ hand. “Let him come. He’s ... he’s family.”

The paramedic nods. “Alright, but stay out of the way.”

As they load you into the ambulance, Lewis climbs in beside you, still holding your hand. The doors slam shut and the sirens wail as they speed towards the hospital.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lewis says softly.

You give his hand a weak squeeze. “Couldn’t let you ... sulk all night. You’d probably ... crash into a street lamp next.”

Lewis chuckles despite himself. “There’s that Rosberg wit. You sound just like your brother sometimes.”

You grimace. “Don’t insult me when I’m down, Hamilton.”

The banter feels surreal given the circumstances, but Lewis is grateful for it. It keeps the crushing guilt at bay, if only for a moment.

“Y/N, I ...” he starts, then falters. “I don’t even know how to begin to apologize.”

You shake your head slightly. “Later. When everything ... stops spinning.”

Lewis nods, throat tight. He watches the paramedics work, feeling utterly helpless.

“Tell me something,” you murmur after a moment.

“What?”

“Anything. Distract me.”

Lewis thinks for a moment. “Did I ever tell you about the time Nico and I got lost in Ibiza?”

You manage a small smile. “No. Spill.”

As Lewis launches into the story, embellishing for comedic effect, he can’t help but marvel at your resilience. Here you are, cracking jokes and asking for stories while bleeding from a head wound he caused.

The guilt threatens to overwhelm him again, but he pushes it aside. Right now, keeping you conscious and calm is what matters. There will be time for apologies and recriminations later.

As the ambulance weaves through Monaco’s narrow streets, Lewis silently vows to make this right, whatever it takes. He may have destroyed his friendship with Nico, but he won’t let you pay the price for their rivalry.

The hospital looms ahead, and Lewis squeezes your hand. “We’re almost there, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You meet his eyes, a flicker of something — trust? forgiveness? — passing between you. “I know,” you whisper. “I’ve got my guardian angel, after all. Even if he is a bit rubbish at parking.”

Lewis laughs, the sound catching in his throat. As they wheel you into the emergency room, he realizes with startling clarity that nothing will ever be the same after tonight.

But looking at your brave smile as the doctors surround you, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, that might not be such a bad thing.

***

The steady beep of the heart monitor fills the hushed hospital room. Lewis sits hunched in an uncomfortable chair beside your bed, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. The stark white bandage wrapped around your head is a constant reminder of his guilt.

A nurse pops her head in. “Mr. Hamilton? There’s someone here to see-”

She’s cut off as Nico barges past her, his face a mask of fury. “You son of a bitch.“

Nico’s fist is already swinging towards Lewis’ face when a doctor in a white coat steps between them. “Gentlemen! This is a hospital, not a boxing ring!”

Nico’s momentum carries him forward, nearly stumbling into the doctor. He catches himself, chest heaving as he glares daggers at Lewis.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Nico snarls.

Lewis stands, hands raised placatingly. “Nico, I can explain-”

“Explain? Explain how you nearly killed my sister?” Nico’s voice rises, causing you to stir in the bed.

The doctor clears his throat. “Mr. Rosberg, I presume? I’m Dr. Moreau. Perhaps we should step outside to discuss your sister’s condition.”

Nico hesitates, clearly torn between getting information and pummeling Lewis. Finally, he nods curtly. “Fine. But this isn’t over, Hamilton.”

As they step into the hallway, Lewis sinks back into his chair, running a hand over his face. He glances at you, relieved to see you’ve settled back into sleep.

In the corridor, Dr. Moreau speaks in low, measured tones. “Mr. Rosberg, your sister suffered a severe concussion and a fractured skull. There was some internal bleeding, but we’ve managed to stabilize that.”

Nico’s knees go weak, and he leans against the wall for support. “Oh God ...”

“She also has three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and various cuts and bruises,” the doctor continues. “Frankly, it’s a miracle she wasn’t more seriously injured. The impact could easily have been fatal.”

Nico slides down the wall, sitting heavily on the floor. “She ... she almost died?”

Dr. Moreau nods gravely. “It was touch and go for a while. But she’s young and strong. With time and proper care, we expect her to make a full recovery.”

Nico buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. After a moment, he looks up, eyes red-rimmed. “Can I see her?”

“Of course. But please, try to stay calm. She needs rest.”

Nico nods, pulling himself to his feet. He takes a deep breath before re-entering the room.

Lewis stands as Nico approaches the bed. “Nico, I-”

“Save it,” Nico snaps, but there’s less venom in his voice now. He gently takes your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

Your eyes flutter open. “Nico?” You mumble groggily.

“Hey, little sis,” Nico says softly, managing a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a car,” you deadpan.

Lewis winces, but Nico actually chuckles. “Well, your sense of humor is intact, at least.”

You try to sit up, grimacing in pain. Lewis and Nico both move to help, then freeze, glaring at each other.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Both of you, help me up. And then explain why you look ready to kill each other. Again.”

With their combined efforts, they manage to prop you up against the pillows. You look expectantly between them.

Nico breaks first. “How can you even ask that? He nearly killed you!”

“It was an accident,” you insist.

“An accident?” Nico scoffs. “He hit you with his car!”

“Which I’m pretty sure he didn’t do on purpose,” you retort. “Right, Lewis?”

Lewis nods emphatically. “God, no. Y/N, I swear, I never saw you. I was distracted, rushing ... but I would never intentionally hurt you. You have to believe that.”

Nico’s jaw clenches. “Maybe not intentionally. But your carelessness nearly cost my sister her life. How am I supposed to forgive that?”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Lewis says quietly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself. But Y/N is the one who was hurt. Shouldn’t it be her choice?”

You nod, wincing at the movement. “Exactly. And I choose to forgive you, Lewis. It was an accident. A stupid, awful accident, but still an accident.”

Nico shakes his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you can’t be serious. You’re lying in a hospital bed because of him!”

“And he’s been by my side ever since,” you counter. “He rode in the ambulance with me, held my hand through all the tests and scans. He’s barely left this room in hours.”

Lewis looks down, uncomfortable with the praise. “It was the least I could do.”

Nico runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “That doesn’t change what happened.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you agree. “But it shows he cares. That he’s taking responsibility.”

“I’ll pay for all her medical expenses,” Lewis adds quickly. “And anything else she needs for her recovery. It’s the least I can do.”

Nico snorts. “You think you can just throw money at this and make it go away?”

“No!” Lewis insists. “I know nothing can undo what happened. But I want to help however I can.”

You reach out, grabbing both their hands. “Listen to me, both of you. I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I don’t have the energy for your macho posturing right now.”

They both have the grace to look ashamed.

“Nico, I love you, but you need to calm down,” you continue. “Lewis made a mistake, a big one. But he’s trying to make amends. And frankly, I need both of you right now. I can’t deal with you at each other’s throats on top of everything else.”

Nico’s expression softens. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just ... when I got that call, saying you were in the hospital ... I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

You squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’m okay. Or I will be. And having you two fighting isn’t going to help me get better any faster.”

Lewis clears his throat. “She’s right. Nico, I know you have every right to hate me right now. But can we please call a truce? For Y/N’s sake?”

Nico hesitates, clearly torn. Finally, he nods stiffly. “Fine. A truce. But only for Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, relaxing back against the pillows. “Now, can one of you please get me some water? And maybe sneak in some real food? I’m starving and the hospital jello isn’t cutting it.”

Lewis jumps up. “I’ll go. Nico, you stay with her. I’ll be right back.”

As Lewis hurries out, Nico settles into the chair beside your bed. “You sure you’re okay, little sis?”

You manage a small smile. “I’ve been better. But I’ve also been worse.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “When have you been worse than having a cracked skull and broken ribs?”

“Remember when I was eight and fell out of that tree in the backyard?”

Nico chuckles. “God, I thought Mama was going to have a heart attack. You were so stubborn, insisting you could climb higher than me.”

“Still can,” you tease.

“Maybe hold off on the tree climbing for a while, yeah?”

You pretend to pout. “Spoilsport.”

The banter feels good, normal. For a moment, you can almost forget you’re in a hospital bed.

Nico’s expression turns serious. “Y/N, are you really okay with forgiving Lewis so easily? You don’t have to, you know. Not for my sake or anyone else’s.”

You sigh. “I know. And believe me, I’m not thrilled about the whole getting hit by a car thing. But Nico, you should have seen his face when he realized it was me. He was devastated.”

“He should be,” Nico grumbles.

“I’m not saying there won’t be consequences,” you continue. “But I don’t believe for a second he meant to hurt me. And holding onto anger isn’t going to help me heal any faster.”

Nico studies your face for a long moment. “When did you get so wise, little sister?”

You grin. “I’ve always been the smart one in the family. You were just too busy crashing karts to notice.”

Nico laughs, then sobers. “I was so scared, Y/N. When they called and said you were in the hospital ... all I could think was that I couldn’t lose you.”

You squeeze his hand. “Hey, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. It’ll take more than Lewis Hamilton’s terrible parking skills to take out a Rosberg.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Nico says, but he’s smiling.

Lewis returns then, arms laden with bags. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got a bit of everything. Sandwiches, fruit, some pasta salad ... oh, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.”

You beam at him. “My hero.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but there’s less hostility in it now. “Is this really the time for sweets?”

Lewis grins sheepishly. “Hey, chocolate has healing properties. I read that somewhere.”

“Sounds like solid medical advice to me,” you chime in, already reaching for a candy bar.

As Lewis unpacks the food, a tentative peace settles over the room. It’s fragile, built on shared concern for you rather than any real reconciliation between the two men. But it’s a start.

You watch them, noting how they unconsciously mirror each other’s movements as they fuss over arranging the food on your tray. For all their differences, for all the bad blood between them, there’s still an underlying connection there. Years of friendship and rivalry can’t be erased so easily.

“You know,” you say around a mouthful of sandwich, “this whole arch-enemies thing you two have going on is getting a bit old.”

They both look at you, startled.

“I mean, come on,” you continue. “You were best friends for years. You’ve known each other longer than most marriages last. Is it really worth throwing all that away over some stupid trophies?”

Nico frowns. “Y/N, it’s more complicated than that-”

“Is it, though?” You interrupt. “Because from where I’m sitting — or laying, I guess — it seems pretty simple. You both love racing. You’re both insanely competitive. And yeah, sometimes that caused friction. But at the end of the day, who else understands what you have been through better than each other?”

Lewis and Nico exchange uncomfortable glances.

“I’m not saying you have to be best buddies again,” you add. “But maybe ... I don’t know. Maybe you could try not actively hating each other? For my sake, if nothing else. I’m going to need both of you while I recover and I really don’t want to deal with World War III breaking out in my hospital room.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Finally, Lewis speaks up.

“She’s right,” he says quietly. “Nico, I know things have been ... difficult between us. And I know this situation hasn’t helped. But Y/N’s important to both of us. Can we at least try to be civil? For her?”

Nico hesitates, then nods slowly. “I suppose we can try. But Lewis, I swear, if anything like this ever happens again-”

“It won’t,” Lewis says firmly. “I promise you, Nico. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You beam at them both. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who’s going to help me eat all this food? Doctor’s orders, you know. Got to keep my strength up.”

As they both reach for the tray, playfully battling over who gets to hand you what, you can’t help but smile. It’s not perfect, not by a long shot. But it’s a beginning.

And really, you think as you watch the two most important men in your life grudgingly share a bag of crisps, sometimes beginnings are the best part of any story.

***

f1-fanatic-2024

[Image: Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg exiting a hospital, walking side by side]

OMG IS THIS REAL??? Brocedes spotted together??? What year is it???

#what is happening #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

brocedes-no1-stan

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

I’m sorry, but are we just going to ignore the fact that they’re leaving a HOSPITAL??? Is everyone okay???

#concerned #hope everyone’s alright #but also lowkey excited

---

vintage-f1-vibes

Okay but why does this feel like a glitch in the matrix? Haven’t seen these two willingly in the same frame since like 2016 😭

#blast from the past #what year is it #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

racing-queen-93

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

BROCEDES RISE!!! 🙌🙌🙌

My 2014 heart is SOARING right now. Never thought I’d see the day. BRB, gonna go cry in a corner.

#i’m not crying you’re crying #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1

---

silverarrows4ever

[Image set: Multiple angles of Lewis and Nico leaving the hospital, including one where they appear to be mid-conversation]

New Brocedes content in 2024? Maybe miracles do happen 😭

But seriously, hope everything’s okay. Weird to see them at a hospital.

#concerned but hopeful #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1 #brocedes

---

formula1-history-nerd

[reblogging silverarrows4ever’s post]

Okay, but can we talk about how neither of them has aged a day??? What kind of vampire magic-

#aging like fine wine #drop the skincare routine boys #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

racingdaydreams

Me: I’m over Brocedes, that ship has sailed

Also me seeing these pics: 🥺👉👈

#i’m weak okay #f1 #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

fastcarsgovroomvroom

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

Everyone freaking out about Brocedes and I’m just wondering why they’re at a hospital??? Hope everyone’s okay!

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

f1-drama-central

BREAKING: Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg spotted leaving Princess Grace Hospital together. Sources say they arrived separately but left at the same time, engaging in what appeared to be civil conversation. More updates as the story develops!

#breaking news #what’s the tea #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

retro-racing-vibes

[reblogging f1-drama-central’s post]

2014 me is SCREAMING right now. 2024 me is cautiously optimistic but also kind of worried because ... hospital?

#conflicted feelings #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

formulaonefanatic

[Image: Close-up of Lewis and Nico talking, both with serious expressions]

Whatever brought them together, it looks serious. Hoping everyone’s okay. But also ... is it wrong that I’m a little excited to see them talking again?

#concerned but intrigued #brocedes #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

***

f1-gossip-central

[Image set: Lewis, Nico, and Y/N on Lewis’ yacht. Another photo of Lewis kissing Y/N with Nico cringing in the background]

WHAT IS HAPPENING??? Lewis and Nico on the same boat??? Lewis kissing Nico’s sister??? I need answers!!!

#what timeline is this #i’m shook #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

brocedes-ride-or-die

[reblogging f1-gossip-central’s post]

EXCUSE ME??? Lewis and Y/N??? When did this happen??? How did I miss this??? 😱😱😱

#new ship alert #what is happening #f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

vintage-f1-drama

Okay but Nico’s face in that last pic is sending me 💀💀💀 Big protective brother energy

#siblings be like #f1 #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

formulaoneobsessed

[Image: Close-up of Lewis kissing Y/N]

New F1 power couple alert? 👀 But also, how is Nico okay with this?

#f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg #nico rosberg

---

racingheartstrings

[reblogging formulaoneobsessed’s post]

I can’t decide if this is the best or worst plot twist of the 2024 season 😂

Either way, I’m here for the drama!

#pass the popcorn #f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg #nico rosberg

---

silverarrowsforever

[Image set: Lewis and Nico chatting on the yacht, looking relaxed]

Can we talk about how this is the most relaxed we’ve seen these two together in YEARS??? Whatever’s happening, it seems to be healing old wounds and I’m here for it 🙌

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

f1-fanfiction-addict

Me: furiously rewriting all my Brocedes fics to include Y/N

The plot twist we never saw coming 😅

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg #fanfiction problems

---

speed-queen-101

[reblogging f1-gossip-central’s post]

Y’all are focused on the Lewis and Y/N kiss but can we appreciate how GOOD everyone looks??? That Monaco sun is doing wonders 😍

#glow up #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

formula1-history-buff

Imagine telling someone in 2016 that in 2024, Lewis would be dating Nico’s sister and they’d all be hanging out on Lewis’ yacht. They’d think you were crazy!

#how times change #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

racingdaydreams

[Image: Nico’s cringing face as Lewis kisses Y/N]

Tag yourself, I’m Nico 😂

#third wheel vibes #f1 #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

fastcarsgovroomvroom

[reblogging racingdaydreams’ post]

Petition for a reality show following this trio because I would watch the HECK out of that

#make it happen netflix #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

f1-drama-queen

THEORY TIME: What if the hospital visit from last week was for Y/N??? And that’s what brought Lewis and Nico back together??? 🤔

#conspiracy theory #but makes sense #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

brocedes-forever

[Image set: Lewis and Nico laughing together on the yacht]

My Brocedes heart is THRIVING right now. Yeah, the Lewis and Y/N thing is cute, but look at these two 😭❤️

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes #friendship goals

[delulujuls]

thick thighs save lives (but ruin racing suits) | ln4, op81

hi! i got this idea from one tiktok i saw today. this one goes for my plus size girlies (including myself lmao) so please enjoy as much as papaya boys would enjoy some pair of thick thighs!

summary: lando and oscar never seen their friend with something tight on, so when it comes to try on new racing suits she have a big surprise for them

warnings: slightly disturbed perception of body image

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris

Y/N sometimes forgot that she was a girl.

At the beginning of her career she tried to make an effort to look good, showing that a male-dominated sport wouldn't take away her feminine grace. Years ago she used to wake up early, style her hair, do makeup and spend a lot of money on fixing cosmetics but unfortunately everything was lost due to sweat, a balaclava and a tight helmet. So the girl decided that this fight made absolutely no sense - she decided to stuck only to lip balm and mascara.

Despite keeping her makeup to a minimum, even her mascara remained treacherous, smearing under her eyes after each race or training session, making her look like a panda. In terms of clothes, the girl didn't have much opportunity to show off either. Her clothes were largely either team tracksuits, a racing suit, or just a baggy orange T-shirt and jeans.

And just as Oscar and Lando looked great after the race despite sweat and messy hair, her post-race glow didn't really existed. On the contrary, she looked as if she had a hard, sleepless night.

It is known that when media days fell on the calendar, the girl tried to look her best. She had light make-up and nicely styled hair, but her body was still covered by loose layers of clothes. It would seem that apart from her physiotherapist and the team doctor, no one around her had any idea what kind of figure the girl really had.

However, everything changed when the break between seasons came. When places had numerous galas and events and you could throw away uncomfortable helmets and team clothes. However, as we know, everything comes to an end at some point and we have to return to the gray reality. This was the case, when the day came and it was time to try on new racing suits for the upcoming season.

Y/N hugged Lando and Oscar upon seeing them outside the entrance to McLaren's headquarters. The trio hadn't had the opportunity to see each other for several weeks, so there was a lot of joy. In a good mood, surrounded by conversation, they went inside and immediately went to the designated place. After a short presentation of costumes, everyone received theirs and went to change, only to come back after a while and report any reservations regarding comfort and range of movement. Y/N took her suit without thinking and went to change. She was surprised when the suit got stuck on her butt and refused to go up any higher.

"What the hell"

The girl muttered under her breath, gripping her fit tighter and jumping in it several times. When it finally slid over her ass, Y/N slipped her hands into the sleeves and zipped up the zipper, sealing the Velcro around her neck. Something was definitely wrong. The girl looked in the mirror at her reflection. The outfit was great and looked amazing, the only problem was that it was a bit tight. Which shouldn't be the case, because the outfits were based on last season's, so the dimensions shouldn't differ drastically. It was impossible to gain so much weight in three months, right?

The girl turned around, looking at the back of her body. The outfit was definitely tight. Just as it was still relatively tight on her chest, it was very tight on her thighs and butt.

Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, looking at her reflection. Have she really always had such big thighs? Did she actually gain weight during the past break?

She was brought out of her thoughts by a knock on the bathroom and the voices of Lando and Oscar outside the door.

"Are you ready?"

The girl felt her cheeks burning with shame.

"I think I have a problem"

Hearing this, the friends fell silent and looked at each other.

"Can we come in?"

Y/N agreed quietly, still staring at herself in the mirror. With each passing second, she became more and more confused about her reflection.

Oscar and Lando entered the bathroom, also wearing their suits. When they noticed their friend standing with her back to them, the first thing they noticed was her butt. Lando quickly looked up at the ceiling and Oscar walked over to the girl, trying his hardest to focus on the reflection of her face in the mirror.

"What happened?"

Y/N bit her lip in shame and silently turned towards them. Her friends involuntarily looked at her, pretending they didn't know what she meant. But as soon as they saw the material tight around her ass from the entrance to the bathroom, they knew exactly what the matter was about.

"My suit is too tight" The girl said quietly, looking at herself "It doesn't fit at all"

Lando wrapped his arms around himself and covered his mouth with his hand. He tried his hardest not to speak, because all he could think about were comments about her thighs and whether she could crush him with them. It didn't get much easier for Oscar. He put his hands on his hips and looked at his friend silently. He was afraid that he would be unable to comfort her in any way, because his mind was completely blank.

Piastri cleared his throat after a while, trying to return from the land of fantasy and behave as if the whole situation was really dramatic.

"Is it very tight?"

"Oh, just look!"

The girl spread her arms and spun around. Lando bit his lip and tilted his head back. Oscar held his breath, having no idea what to say. He was totally mesmerized by her curves.

"I- Uhm, I think it's just a mistake and they'll make you a different one without any problem."

"Different one?" Y/N asked, feeling tears in her eyes. “What if it's not a mistake and I've gained weight these past few months?”

"After all, the tests showed that everything was fine with your measurements."

Oscar said calmly.

Y/N turned to the mirror again and looked at her reflection.

"What a total shit"

"Hey, don't say that" Lando was immediately outraged "You look great"

"Great?" The girl snorted, "Come on, I look ridiculous."

"To be honest, I agree with Lando one hundred percent."

Oscar replied, looking once more at the back of the girl's body.

"My thighs are a disaster! What kind of racing driver has such big thighs?"

The girl burst out, turning again towards them.

"Max has nice thighs," Lando pointed out, thinking for a moment, "I'm sure his thighs are the national pride of the Netherlands."

Y/N wasn't in the mood to joke. Devastated, she looked down her body.

Oscar walked up to her and hugged her without saying a word.

"You look beautiful. And you have a really amazing figure"

Lando walked over to his friends and hugged them as well.

The girl felt a little better with the support of her friends. However, for a moment she forgot that men would be men and nothing would ever dissuade them from having dirty thoughts.

"I agree with Oscar, because you really look great," Lando started. Oscar looked at him, knowing full well what was coming and knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop it. "But with all the respect I have for you as a friend and as a woman in general, holy shit, I would pay extra for you to strangle me with your thighs. And man, that mad bunda, too."

Y/N didn't know what to say for a moment. She only felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Did she just receive the strangest compliment of her life?

She freed herself a little from her friends' embrace and looked at Lando's face.

"Seriously?"

He seeing that his comment was not received negatively, quickly nodded.

"You have such a body that-" "Lando meant that you shouldn't worry about what you look like because you look really great."

Oscar interjected, knowing full well that Lando's comments should be kept to himself.

The girl smiled weakly and sniffled. Her friends' words lifted her spirits a bit.

"My only concern now is how I will get this contraption off of me."

Lando and Oscar smirked, involuntarily exchanging glances.

"I think we can help you with that."

[pickingupmymercedes]

Damn him - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Braids down, finger in and that smirk.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities

Also, wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +2K

a/n: I might have found my passion for teasing 🤭. Also, the smirk besties, that smirk @lh44girl 🫦

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

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

_______________________________________

The room was still shrouded in darkness, only the faintest sliver of dawn creeping through the heavy curtains. Lewis was dead to the world, his arm lazily draped over her waist.

She’s got to hand it to him—when he’s out, he’s out, completely unaware that she’s about to disappear from his bed like a ghost.

Gently, she lifts his arm, careful not to disturb him. The bed creaked slightly as she slipped out, the cool air immediately prickling her skin. Her dress from last night lies abandoned on the floor, and she silently cursed the choice of attire.

A body-hugging, zipper-up-the-back number isn’t exactly designed for a swift exit. Still, she’s been through these routine enough times to make it work.

She pulled on the dress, her fingers fumbling with the zipper, and catched her reflection in the mirror. Her hair a mess, wild and tangled from sleep and... well, whatever that was that happened the night before.

There’s a faint smudge of makeup under her eyes, and she can’t help but notice the telltale mark on her neck. Great. She’s got a press conference today, and now she’ll have to figure out how to cover that up.

Professionalism, right?

She glanced back at the bed. Lewis is sprawled out, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. He looks so damn peaceful, so utterly unaware of the world.

And for a moment, just a brief flicker, she considered waking him. But what’s the point? This is how it always goes—no strings, no complications.

Besides, there’s a certain satisfaction in slipping out unnoticed, leaving him to his dreams.

She moved to the door, her hand hovering over the knob. There’s a moment’s hesitation, a tiny voice in the back of her mind that wonders if this will ever change—if they’ll ever stop playing these games.

But she brushed it aside. They both know the score. She’s not looking for anything more, and neither is he.

As she stepped into the hallway, she doesn’t look back. She’s done this dance before, and she’ll do it again. The only thing she takes with her is a hair tie around her wrist—probably his. It’s a small, insignificant thing, but she likes having it, a reminder of the night.

She straightened her dress, squared her shoulders, and walked down the corridor to enter the car waiting.

There’s no shame there, no regret. Just the usual morning after, with the usual complications.

But then, complications are part of the job, aren’t they?

By the time Y/n arrived on the paddock it was its usual buzzing ground, the organized chaos of a media day in full swing.

She’s got her game face on, professional and poised, the lingering traces of last night buried beneath a shower and layers of carefully applied concealer.

She was just finished setting up in the media pen, her notes organized, camera crew in place, when her phone vibrated against the table. She glanced down, expecting some last-minute update or an overzealous PR rep trying to change an interview slot. Instead, it’s a message from Lewis.

You have something that’s mine.

Her brow furrowed as she read it, confusion and intrigue bubbling up. What the hell is he talking about?

She quickly scanned her surroundings, half-expecting to see him lurking somewhere nearby with that damn smirk of his. But the paddock is crowded, drivers and team members moving in every direction, and there’s no sign of him.

She brushed it off. There’s work to be done, and whatever game he’s playing can wait.

But it’s easier said than done. The message lingered in the back of her mind, gnawing at her curiosity. What did she take? He can’t be serious.

She barely had time to dwell on everything that had happened since the night before before she has to move again, weaving through the throng of people.

As she rounds a corner, she nearly collides with him. Lewis, in all his casually confident glory, is striding toward her, his eyes locking onto hers with a look that gets her breath stuck in her throat.

He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t stop, but as he passes, he gives her that look. The one that says he’s up to no good, that he’s got something planned.

The smirk on his lips is unmistakable. It’s a promise, a challenge, and she can’t help but roll her eyes at his audacity.

Of course, he’d pull something like this on a day she’s already juggling a million things. She keeps walking, head held high, refusing to let him see how much he’s already under her skin.

Only later, as she’s waiting for an interview to start, she spots him again. This time, he’s not in a rush. He’s lingering, talking to someone from his team, but his attention is split.

She can feel his gaze on her before she even looks up. When she does, he’s already watching her, a little too intently for her liking.

He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, then stops, closing it with a thoughtful pout. His hand slips into his pocket, but only his index goes in, tapping the rest rhythmically against his les.

Her breath hitches again. She knows exactly what that finger is capable of, and the memory from last night floods back in with a vengeance.

The slow, deliberate way he’d teased her, drawn out her pleasure until she was a trembling mess beneath him.

She forces herself to look away, to focus on anything else. But the damage is done. He’s got her flustered, her mind racing in directions it shouldn’t be going in the middle of a workday.

She doesn’t miss the satisfied glint in his eye as she turns her attention back to her notes, pretending she’s unaffected. But he knows better. He always does.

Damn him.

Then she’s back at the hotel, settling into her room, the familiar comfort of routine taking over as she edits the final images for the broadcaster. The day has been a whirlwind, and she’s finally finding her rhythm.

She’s halfway through cropping a shot when the phone rings, startling her. The room phone.

She blinks, confused. Who even uses the room phone these days?

“Hello?”

“Your car is downstairs, ma’am,” the receptionist informs her, tone as polished as ever.

“My car?” She’s even more puzzled now. She didn’t call for a car. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s waiting for you.”

Almost simultaneously, her phone pings with a message. She glances down, and her confusion deepens when she sees the name on the screen: Lewis. She opens the message.

Just get in.

Of course. Who else could it be? A sigh escapes her as she gathers her things, tossing her phone into her bag.

Why was she even entertaining him was something her logical side was having serious trouble grasping.

The blacked-out Mercedes waiting outside is a dead giveaway. She slides into the backseat, and there he is—Lewis, sprawled out with that easy confidence he wears like a second skin.

The door barely clicks shut before his hands are on her, pulling her close as the car begins to move. A closed little window the only thing separating them from whoever was on the front seats.

“Lewis, not here” she hisses, feeling his fingers deftly working their way to the button of her jeans.

He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Don’t worry, love. The big guy driving us won’t say a thing.”

His fingers are relentless, sliding under the fabric, seeking out her heat. Her breath catches as he finds her clit, rubbing it through the thin barrier of her underwear.

The car is moving, taking them somewhere in the Milan area, but she’s too caught up in the sensation to care where they’re headed.

“You love the tease, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

She bites her lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatens to escape. She can’t let him win that easily, not when he’s already got her halfway undone with just a few well-placed touches.

But when he finally slides a finger inside her, she’s lost, her body arching into him despite herself.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, dragging her toward the edge with a practiced ease that only makes her want him more. The pleasure coils tighter and tighter until she’s gasping, muffling her sounds against his shoulder as she comes, her body trembling from the intensity.

But it’s not enough. Not even close. She’s still aching, still needy, and she knows he’s fully aware of it.

“Lewis,” she breathes, her voice a low plea. “I need more than this.”

His laugh is soft, almost indulgent, as if he expected nothing less. “Patience, babe.”

The car begins to slow, and she glances out the window. She can only assume it’s their next stop in whatever he’s got planned.

He withdraws his hand, leaving her feeling achingly empty. But the promise of more, of what’s to come, is enough to keep her on edge, her pulse quickening as he opens the door and steps out, offering her his hand.

“Come on,” he says, that damn smirk back in place. “We’re not done yet.”

As Y/n steps out of the car, the cool evening air wraps around her, a welcome help to the heat still simmering within her.

She takes Lewis’s hand, not because she needs it, but because it’s part of the unspoken dance they’ve been doing for over a year now.

He leads her up a discreet side entrance, the back of another hotel, and it doesn’t take long for her to recognize it.

The same damn place she’d snuck out of this morning, trying to preserve a shred of her dignity. And here she is, to end the day right back where she started it.

The universe’s funny like that.

They move quickly and quietly through the hallways, Lewis’s hand gripping hers with an easy familiarity. The top floor, naturally—because Lewis doesn’t do anything by halves.

When they finally enter his room, he pauses, turning to face her. There’s something different in his eyes, a seriousness that wasn’t there before. But before she can analyze it, he’s speaking.

“I believe you’ve got two things that are mine,” he says, voice low and smooth.

She arches a brow, trying to play it cool even though her heart is thudding in her chest. “Oh…two?”

He steps closer, and she can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “My hair tie you took with you this morning” he says, nodding toward her wrist where the band sits snugly.

She glances down at it, remembering how he’d used it to pull her hair back last night when his hands were too busy holding her in place.

A small smirk tugs at her lips as she looks back at him.

“And you, babe” he continues, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re mine.”

She huffs a laugh in his face, half-amused, half-challenged. She turns from him and sits on the sofa, crossing her legs as she slowly let’s her head fall to the side and her lips pout “Yours? I don’t remember ever saying yes to anything.”

Lewis smiles, but there’s something in his eyes that’s deadly serious. He closes the distance between them, his hand lifting to cup her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Will you, then? Let whatever this is stay in the past and be my partner?”

Damn him.

She was just here for the sex, the fun, the thrill of sneaking around with one of the most recognizable men on the planet. But he’s gone and done it—turned the tables on her when she least expected it.

And of course, she wants to scream to the top of the roof she does. But she’s not going to make it that easy for him.

A slow smile spreads across her face, and she uses his arms to help herself up, bringing her face level with his. Her other hand finds its way to his jawline, her thumb brushing lightly against the beard there.

She leans in, her lips barely grazing his ear as she whispers, “You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that, Romeo.”

And then she pulls back just enough to see the flicker of surprise in his eyes before she leaves a kiss at the corner of his lips.

With a teasing glance, she turns and strides towards the bed by the windows, peeling off her shirt as she goes.

She doesn’t look back until she reaches for the hooks on her bra. Then, with a wicked grin, she glances over her shoulder at him. “Aren’t you gonna help me with that?”

There’s a heartbeat of hesitation, and then she hears him move, the soft sound of his footsteps on the carpet as he closes the distance between them.

Because this is what they do—challenge, tease, and drive each other crazy.

Only this time, the prize is that much bigger.

She can feel it in the way his hands are just a little gentler, his touch lingering a little longer as he reaches for her.

And as much as she wants to hold onto her bravado, there’s a part of her that’s ready to see where this path might lead them.

But first, there’s the matter of making him earn it.

______________________________________________________________

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[swordsandholly]

Treat Me Gently (Because No One Else Will)

Ch 1: The Arrangement | next | masterlist | Ao3

Ghoap x reader | MDNI 18+ | cw: PiV sex, fingering

You yawn and stretch, back popping all the way up as you finally give it some reprieve from your hours of sitting at your low coffee table that doubles as your work station. As much as you try to stop hunching like a goblin, you always slip back into it. It’s hard when your mind gets lost in the words and the pages flying by. Good posture seems to equal bad writing, unfortunately.

Your knees pop slightly as you stand up from your cushion that doubles as a ‘chair’, decidedly clocking out for the evening. Really, you should have stopped two hours ago, but you just can’t get this one damn scene right. You sigh, heading to your dresser to change out of your “work” clothes and into a ratty, oversized shirt and pajama shorts. Your phone dings just as you go to stand in front of the fridge that you already know is practically empty.

S >> Come over?

S >> I got takeout.

You snicker. Perfunctory and presumptuous, as usual. He timed it out for when he knew you’d be done with work - even taking in your propensity to go well passed your designated office hours. He probably knew you were out of food, too. Not that you’d ever expect less from Simon Riley.

>> Give me 5

You pad across the the hallway between your flats, the dangling of your keys echoing off the old walls. The floorboards always creak, announcing your presence before you could even knock on the door. Simon’s place is bigger than yours - a one bedroom as opposed to your studio. Both have small balconies, his furnished with only two fold-out chairs. You’ve tried to convince him to get a plant or something, but he just insists it will die in a day despite that being literally impossible. The whole of the apartment is sparsely decorated - the main features being that of his well worn L-shaped couch and the fancy surround sound system Simon installed. The rest of it made up of shelves lined with physical media and books.

“Evenin’.” Simon says from his kitchen as you let yourself in. He stands at the island, broad shoulders hunched as he fiddles with something.

The lock clicks behind you when you shut the door. Some soft classical music drifts from the speakers. You don’t recognize it, but you also know that asking will result in a lecture that will undoubtedly become a pop quiz at a later date. You don’t need another Tchaikovsky incident on your hands.

“Sushi?” Your brows raise as you eye the rolls and sashimi. He really went all out. “What’s the occasion?”

Simon shrugs, plating the food up on his uniform black, square plates. Yours sits neatly on a plate of it’s own, soy sauce and all. Sometimes you wonder if he keeps an index of your take out orders or if his memory is just that good. “Shipping out soon. Figured I’d get it while I could.”

You grin and move behind him. He shivers slightly as you push your cool hands up under his shirt to run along his strong core. “Doesn’t have anything to do with the whole aphrodisiac thing?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, bird.” Simon feigns ignorance. The corner of his mouth briefly quirks up before he forces it back down.

“Sure, sure.” You retract your hands, wandering over to pick up the TV remote off the well worn coffee table. “Which movie are we on?”

“Blackwell Ghost 5.”

You settle in your usual spot on the couch, leaning on the right armrest. Simon has always liked the middle - he says it’s the best for his back. You know it’s just because he likes to manspread five miles wide. It doesn’t bother you, as you generally prefer to curl up in the corner with your feet tucked. The movie rolls and you eat in comfortable silence, humming around the fresh food. He really does spoil you, sometimes.

You eye Simon while you eat. With anybody else this would all be pretense - an unnecessary preamble to imply, somehow, that this is more than a booty call. Not with Simon. Never with Simon. This is just as important as the rest of it. You watch the way his hands practically dwarf the single-use chopsticks, the way his body melts into the cushions. Your eyes rake over the strong planes of his face littered with various scars; his nose broken one too many times, the ear that’s been slightly clipped by a bullet. His hair has grown out and more stubble sprinkles across his jaw than he usually allows.

“Wotcha lookin’ at?” Simon mumbles around some tuna.

You tilt your head, smiling. “You’re fun to watch.”

“Creep.” He nudges your foot with his knee.

“Freak.” You push back.

“’ow’s the book goin’?” Simon asks.

You groan, shoving your last piece of sushi in your mouth while you debate your answer. “S’fine. Slow. My agent is being a real pain in my ass.”

He hums, that slight smirk gracing his lips. If you knew him any less you might have missed it entirely. “Need some inspiration?”

You sputter out a laugh, placing your plate on the coffee table. “Very smooth, Riley.”

“C’mere.” Simon rumbles, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you over his lap. It’s almost uncomfortable how far you have to stretch to accommodate his hips, but its so worth it as his hands rest on your waist, grinding you down against him. You gasp, giving him entrance to press his lips to yours - tongue flicking over your lower lip.

One hand tangles in his hair, the other caressed downward, shoving his shirt up and tracing the lines of muscle across his torso. You’ve always loved bodies - loved taking in their shapes and texture, their variety - and Simon’s has so much to take in. Ridges of muscle and scars, plus that little plush layer over his middle he gets while home from deployment. You tug on his shirt, only breaking the kiss long enough to yank it off and toss it somewhere on the floor.

“Y’so fuckin’ pretty…” Simon mumbles, hands wandering from your waist, to your hips, to knead at your thighs and the curve of your ass.

You squeak as Simon lifts you, locking your legs around his waist. No matter how many times he does it, his strength still catches you off guard. He doesn’t unlock from your lips, moving back to his room purely based on muscle memory. You have to resist the urge to tease him about the time he knocked your head against the doorframe in this exact position.

Your hands drift over the curvature of his broad shoulders as he lays you back on his bed. You can’t help but be fascinated by him - all hard muscle and sinew. So different from your own soft figure. Even the pads of his fingers are rough as they push under your oversized t-shirt, kneading at the soft layer over your middle.

“This okay?” Simon mumbles in your ear. You nod vigorously as his hands move up, up, up until he’s pulling your shirt and bralette off in one swift motion.

Simon buries his face in your chest, nipping at the sensitive skin before taking a nipple in his mouth. You arch into the touch, unsure of where to put your hands and opting to let them wander.

“May I?” He murmurs, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear and sleep shorts. Again, you nod, forgetting that isn’t enough for him at this stage. “Use your words.”

“Yes! Please, Si.” You whine, rolling your hips against the too-light touch.

Simon chuckles at you, pulling your bottoms off and dropping them onto the floor somewhere. He runs his fingers between your folds, obviously reveling in the way your breath catches and your chest heaves when he finally circles your clit. His lips connect with yours, swallowing every gasp and moan as he presses a finger inside.

“Fuckin’ tight t’night, bird.” He grumbles into your mouth. “‘ave I been neglecting you?”

Quite the opposite. If anything, he’s fucked you silly this past week, but you can’t exactly argue that when he presses against your g-spot and retakes your nipple between his teeth.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan as a second finger joins the first. Your nails dig lightly into his shoulders when he pressed his thumb against your clit, moving in short circles to the rhythm of the fingers inside you. You swear he’s too dexterous to be human sometimes.

You keen, body tensing as stars dance behind your eyes. You can feel the slickness of your cunt on your thighs, the squelch of Simon’s slowed movements almost too lewd.

He only disappears long enough to shuck off his pants before he’s hovering back over you, tucked into the crook of your neck. Simon gives you a moment to come down, cooing praises in your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me. Always so good f’me.”

He sits back to lightly tap his cock against your pussy, sending jolts up your spine, obviously enjoying your reaction. He grinds his cock against you, sliding easily between your soaked folds. “Christ.”

Simon reaches into the nightstand, plucking a condom out from their designated spot. He hands it to you for inspection, as always. You don’t really understand why he still does it after the two of you have had this standing agreement for so long, but it’s not a gesture you’re going to call into question. Some of Simon’s sexual habits are simply best left as they are - they’re always for your mutual benefit, anyway. You flip it over in your fingers briefly before passing it back.

No matter how many times you take him, it’s always a stretch. He’s not the biggest you’ve had, but thick enough the sensation would teeter into pain without any preparation. That’s another thing he insists on: pain has no place in intimacy.

Your lips fall open in a pitchy moan - hands fisting the sheets on either side of you. Simon falls onto his forearms resting on either side of your head. You revel in the way he cages you in, the way his tongue laps at the sweat-slicked skin of your collar bone. You both sigh in sync as his hips finally settle against yours.

You wrap your legs tightly around his back as he begins to move. A solid rhythm slowly turning into something more desperate. Simon sits up, his weight suddenly off you. Just as you crack your eyes open his hands grab tightly onto your hips, lifting them just off the bed. The new angle ruts him against that spot inside you, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm faster than you can process it.

He eventually lets go of your hips, one hand braces by your head, the other tracing your body. Plucking at your nipples, kneading at the flesh of your thighs, pressing onto your soft stomach to emphasize the fullness with him inside you.

“Give me another.” Simon demands, thumb pressing to your clit. His eyes bore through you, watching your every minute expression. “C’mon, one more, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. A rarer pet name - one you’d probably be pissed about coming from anyone else. With Simon it melts into your bones, pooling at the base of your spine. Your eyes roll back, pathetic sounds and babbling falling from your lips as you cum again in such a short span.

“Fuck.” He grunts, voice low and breathless in your ear. “Cunt feels so fucking good when you cum f’me.”

You whine, useless under him. Your limbs are utter jelly. Even as you try to roll your hips with his, your movement is stuttered. Uncontrolled. You know he enjoys how sensitive you are, how pliant you become. It feeds his ego - the part of him that needs to do things right. Your body shudders under Simon’s as he groans, all depth and gravel, his hips stuttering and slowing as he cums.

You both stop, for a moment, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath enough for Simon to push himself up, tying off the condom and tossing it before falling into his back beside you.

A silence lapses over you - the only sound in the room is that of your breathing with a slight pitch difference between your breaths. You’ve always loved this part. The quiet afterglow. The gentle way Simon will reach over to soothe down your hair while you lazily meet his eye. No words, no expectations. Just existing with someone in your vulnerability. With someone you know is safe.

“Go piss.” Simon points to the bathroom as soon as his breath is even.

You snort, pushing yourself up on slightly shaky arms. “So demanding.”

“So considerate.” He quips back. “It’s important.”

“Fine, fine.” You throw your hands up and pad off to the bathroom. You pause, looking at yourself in the mirror. What is it about Simon’s bathroom that makes you so much more beautiful than your own? Your skin glows nicely, your hair shines even as it’s mussed up from getting fucked six ways to Sunday.

When you come back Simon’s sitting up against the headboard, scrolling through something on his phone. You crawl back into bed beside him, flopping on your back and staring at the ceiling fan as it circles, circles, circles.

“When do you have to leave?”

He sighs, dropping his phone back onto the nightstand. “End of the week.”

You nod, accepting the oncoming semi-dry spell as usual. You’ve always wondered what he does when he’s gone - if he has another you out there. Another arrangement. You can’t imagine Simon going more than a couple days without someone. That’s what brought you into this in the first place - a mutual benefit. You don’t truly feel the need to ask; it’s more curiosity than anything and you don’t want the question to go misinterpreted. Not that Simon would, necessarily, he’s always been good about taking your words at face value.

With a sigh, you roll onto your side to face him, head propped on your hand. “Know where you’re heading?”

“Mexico.” Simon grunts in that tone that signals you to stop asking questions.

You trail your fingers over his chest, through the dusting of blonde hair. “Wanna go again?”

“Fuck yes.” He rolls over. You can’t help but giggle as he knocks your knees apart and eagerly plants himself between your thighs.

banner by @the-aesthetics-shop

[dorabellingham]

Fashion critic

warning: words of a "sexual nature"

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you do some shopping and he wants to analyze all the pieces of clothing, or better yet, admire his girl

may contain spelling and translation errors!

After finishing opening all the boxes, Jude was sitting on the couch, watching the veritable parade of luxury you had brought home. He shook his head, sometimes in disbelief, sometimes in amusement, as she arranged everything around you. Between shoes, bags, dresses, and even a pair of sunglasses that he swore he had seen you wear something similar to, the room looked like a designer store. Jude stretched his legs out on the couch and crossed his arms, with a mischievous smile on his face.

—Okay, sweetheart, let’s go. Since you spent all this money -with my money, by the way, I think you should at least try it on for me.

You stopped folding one of the bags and turned to him, with an arched eyebrow.

—Oh, really? And why would I do that, Jude?

He shrugged, still smiling.

—Because I’m the official sponsor of this game, and I have the right to approve the investment. What if something isn't worth what it cost?

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

—Oh, so now you want to be a fashion critic, babe?

—Exactly, babe. —He leaned forward, patting the cushion next to him. —Come on, go ahead. Show me what my money bought.

You huffed, but grabbed one of the dresses from the bag and went to the bedroom.

—Only because I know you love seeing me wearing these things.

—And without them too.

He muttered mischievously, and you threw a shoe in his direction before disappearing.

When you came back, wearing a short black dress that perfectly highlighted your curves, Jude's eyes widened, whistling softly.

—Wow. See? That was worth it, sweetie.

You twirled around in an exaggerated way, as if you were on a runway.

—So, Mr. Critic? Do I pass the test?

—Easy. —He smiled and gestured for you to come back. —Next.

You laughed, but kept changing clothes and coming back with different pieces. A long, flowing dress, boots that made you look taller, elegant jackets, and even a super stylish sweatsuit that you used to tease.

—This one is for when you make me lazy at home.

You said, laughing.

Jude was having more fun with each change, applauding exaggeratedly at some and even getting up to adjust details in others.

When you appeared with a red silk dress, that hugged your body in a way that seemed to have been tailored, your boyfriend was silent for a few seconds, just staring.

—So, Bellingham? Aren't you going to say anything?

You asked, tilting your head.

He got up from the couch, approaching slowly.

—I think this one… — He left the sentence hanging in the air, holding your waist and sliding his hands over the fabric. —It should be just for me.

You laughed, pushing his chest lightly.

—Oh, sure. Because I'm going to spend all of this to use it just here at your house.

—If you're going to make me like this... yes.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks blushed slightly. Jude noticed and smiled even more.

—Come on, go. Is there more or is it over?

He teased.

You sighed dramatically.

—There's more. But if you don't stop being conceited, I'll save the rest for another time.

He walked away with his hands raised.

—Okay, okay. I promise to be serious. Go ahead.

When you came back for the last time, wearing an oversized blazer and knee-high boots, he couldn't help but smile.

—That's... that's so you, babe. It suits you perfectly.

You smiled, adjusting your blazer.

—So I passed the test? Was it worth the investment?

—You passed with flying colors. But... — He pulled you by the hand, making her sit on his lap. —I don't think it was an investment. It was a gift. You deserve all of this.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

—And you think I don’t know that you love to spoil me?

—Of course I do. But now… —He looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. —I think I’m going to need a few more close-up evaluations.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Elite Serial Killer

Thinking about the rich hunting the poor plot of thousands of movies

Popular and inexplicably vain it’s a surprise he goes to your college at all

But because of his status and immense popularity you never quite got close to him

Only knowing about him because of gossip 

His existence doesn’t matter to you until the college plans to take everyone on a cross-country trip

That happens to be sponsored by an anonymous donor 

You somehow end up in a travel group with him and his most loyal groupies

You didn’t even know you were in the same class

But when the school asks for a payment he generously pays for all expenses

“If all it takes is a bit of pocket change to have these nerds do my homework, then I’ll pay for it!”

He scoffs in your face if you try to refuse 

having the principal tear your check in front of your face if you try to pay yourself

But you pack your bags prepared to get on the plane booked for the class only for one of the nicer groupies to stop you

“Uh, where do you think you're going?”

“To the plane?”

“Our plane is on the tarmac. We’re not getting packed in like a bunch of sardines.”

“But I already bought the ti-”

“Look nerd stop complaining before he leaves you.”

When you do get on of course it’s a shock to have an attendant nicely handle your bag 

Of course, you fidget as you watch the groupies casually sit in specific padded chairs

As though those were their designated spots 

You’re watching them so intensely you miss the grey eyes watching you

“You.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Where do you want to sit?”

“Uhm I’ll just sit over here.”

You randomly pick the spot farthest from them 

He scoffs again and snaps his fingers

“No, you won’t you’ll sit over here.”

The seat he’s pointing at is right beside him…

But a girl is already sitting there

You hesitate looking nervously at the girl who’s engrossed in her phone

Wille exasperatedly sighs before turning in his seat to kick the girl off it

“Ahh!”

Thud

It looked like it hurt

But no one reacts…at first

Before one of the groupies chimes in

“Move Piggie! It’s obvious Wille doesn’t want you here!”

The other’s laugh while ‘piggie’ slowly gets up moving her things she gives you a hard glare before moving to the row over

With Wille impatiently snapping his fingers you sit in the seat

Now being weirdly included in the conversation

Though it’s completely out of your realm of understanding they are seemingly including you

You don’t get the chance to ask  why he wanted you here but you couldn’t complain

When an attendant served you a hearty meal that happened to fit all of your likes and dislikes

You are made to hold someone’s bag or do the other’s assignments issued for the class but you can’t complain

Especially when ‘piggie’ is the one who keeps getting pushed around

Once the plane lands it’s constantly like this 

In museums, restaurants, and lectures 

The pattern continues and as expected you feel incredibly indebted to Wille

So of course you’ll look past the slightly demeaning tasks he sends you on

Or when the groupies need the opinion of a ‘commoner’ you answer

It’s never as bad as it is for ‘piggie’ 

Who ends up paying for some of the other groupies’ shopping sprees 

Or when someone deems their outfit ruined or out of style it’s ‘piggie’ who has to buy something new

You feel awful 

But you’re sure if you spoke up they’d absolutely leave you in this foreign country all alone

So you’ll try in another way

“Hey, I uh filled out an extra assignment if you’d like it?”

For once you might see them accept and start coming to you to talk

It’s nice 

To speak to someone more sympathetic to your situation

But things don’t really kick off until the last day 

And you by association are invited to the intense partying of your group who invite others from your college

There Wille demands that everyone in your group come to his vacation home where his family is 

To work off the hangovers and keep the party going he says 

He says it’ll be another week before you all head back to the college

Whether you drink or not you don’t mind the small extension on your trip 

after all, all of your expenses are paid for

So without being able to refuse you join the group  

a butler welcomes you as soon as the chauffeur drops you all off at the castle-like vacation home mansion

Unexpectedly there and looking at watching you all gawk are Wille’s family

His father, his mother, his older sister, and his younger brother

They all are just like him with long wavy hair and cattish grey eyes that seem to see all

They welcome the group but they’re honestly quite cold

You don’t mind all that much though

They’re polite enough for the first three days

But then as the end of the week approaches it just gets stranger

Not just for you but for the others as well

“H-h-hey did any of you guys notice Wille’s little brother has a lot of stuffed pets?”

“Really?”

“Well, did you see how that old man was looking at me? Creepy!”

Finally on the sixth day 

more accurately at midnight, the hunting really begins

Faced with Wille himself smiling wider than you could have ever imagined right along with his family with their own twisted faces

“You won’t believe how many social climbers cling to us like leeches! In our world. They have their protections and safeguards that stop us from bashing their brains in. But you–we could do that and so much more because no one cares about you. No one!”

It’s alarming, to say the least 

The dirt under your nails

The cries of the others

Wille continues

“But it's nice to imagine right? So we’re going to play a little game! You all get until midnight tomorrow to escape our property. If you do you get to keep your little worthless life. As a bonus, we’ll reward you an extra million for all the trouble! So, everyone ready to play?”

Screams are heard 

And a gunshot goes off

Someone else breaks down again

“Good energy, you have until sunrise.”

Like frightened deer you scatter

Part 2

[crheativity]

Hello how have u been I was wondering if I can request a slightly part 2 of the reader making the overblot squad cute little plushies so wha if the reader makes the plushies clothing and accessories like for vil’s plushie little fake makeup and same clothing he has sorry if my English is bad I’m still learning

SUMMARY: You decide to make the Overblot Squad’s plushies clothes! How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: Oh my GOSH this is such a cute idea!! And no worries Anon, your English is just fine :D I hope you enjoy it!!

Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

You made his plushie some… clothes? He didn’t even know you could remove her current ones! He would never think to try something so scandalous on his own! Especially not with a plushy of the Queen of Hearts!! Ah, wait- he meant no disrespect! He just meant that he wouldn’t- uh… He’s just gonna stop talking now.

You have to show him how to change his plushy’s clothes – he refuses to figure it out on his own in case someone walks in – but once you show him it’s not like that, he’s more comfortable with it. He doesn’t change things around a lot – maybe whenever you make him a new one. He keeps them all safely in a box under his bed. Occasionally, he’ll take them out just to look at. Seeing them always makes him smile.

You decided to make the powerful, feared and mighty King of Beasts… a hat? And slippers? Hah, you got guts, Prefect. He’s gotta say, he respects it. Alright, he’ll indulge you. He’s slightly surprised at how small yet detailed the accessories are. There’s something slightly endearing about such small clothes… maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like children? Tch. He can’t relate.

Nonetheless, it’s amusing to him what kind of accessories you think of. He’s also not the type to change up the doll’s outfit a whole lot, but he’ll stash them all around his room. Much like the toy, they all smell of you. It’s starting to annoy the other Beastmen. Ruggie’s strongly considering having an intervention.

Prefect… these are adorable! Are you sure you don’t want to sell these? Ah, r-right. Please forgive him for forgetting they were for-... for his eyes only. Please stop looking at him and let him regain his composure. He absolutely loves them! He hopes you know how much of a friend the doll has become to him. He’s starting to tear up, you’re so kind. Give him a minute.

Azul has designated different clothes for different purposes. Before bed, he puts his doll in her pajamas. When he wakes up, he selects her outfit for the day and changes her into it. He does this almost ritualistically every day. Floyd and Jade have teased him for it, but surprisingly, Azul doesn’t seem to mind.

Oh? You made his Sorcerer of the Sands doll some different outfits? Pft– that’s so cute. He didn’t mean to laugh at you – he’s delighted, really! He just… can’t believe that you’d spend precious free time doing something like that. Hey, come on, he’s not judging you or anything, but free time is precious, right? You should spend it more on doing what you want to do. Still, though, he loves the clothes - and finds your cute little pout adorable. 

He definitely keeps them with the doll. Whenever you make him new ones, he’ll pick up the doll and change the outfit. Otherwise, he’ll only change them a couple times every so often. This has given him an idea though. Maybe you’d like a doll too? Then you could match. Although, Ramshackle dorm doesn’t really have a mascot… maybe he could make you a ghost? Or a plushie of Grim? 

(Didn’t he say that spending ‘precious free time’ doing something like ‘that’ was wasted? Point it out to him and he’ll get flustered and walk off in a huff. He will return with a plush and an apology for you two days later. He enjoyed making it a lot.)

You made his doll clothes?! He’s trying not to squeal like a teenage girl. He didn’t know that his doll could change clothes!! Oh, prefect, he loves you so much. He’s going to ask you to make so many clothes, you better be prepared for what you’re getting into!

He, like Azul, changes the clothes all the time and will often just sit down for like an hour and change the doll into perfect outfits. As you could probably guess, Vil LOVES using the doll to try out new looks. Whenever he’s designing an outfit or a piece of clothing, he always asks you to make a small version for him to try out on the doll. This helps him to be able to practise styling them and getting an idea of how the finished piece would look. 

His favourite kind of outfit to ask for, however, is anything that reminds you of fashion from your homeworld.

You made his marketable plushie some marketable clothes?? Oh my gosh. That’s adorable. It’s so small! Looks like those itty bitty cutey kitty clothes– AH– ahem. you didn’t hear that. He definitely wasn’t just having a total fanboy moment. no siree… do you think you could make him an outfit from his favourite anime? that’d be cool, he guesses.

He’s DEFINITELY gonna make the little guy cosplay his favourite characters. Maybe that’d improve his gacha roles even more? Oh he is 100% down to help too. Any clothes that require metallic details he is WELDING that stuff together. It’s so cute how invested he gets in this. Ortho loves seeing his brother get so passionate about this too!

Malleus is DELIGHTED. He was not aware that his little friend could change outfits! How adorable! He loves you so much! He is this close to buying an actual, fully sized wardrobe just for them! …But Lilia talks him out of it. Actual, fully sized wardrobes take up a surprising amount of room. So, he ends up getting two, miniature wardrobes. Which fills about the same space. Lilia’s not sure his advice really worked.

Malleus will now dress up his dolls for tea parties, picnics, or whatever outings they decide to go on. He is constantly surprised and delighted by whatever you make him, although he’s not very good at suggesting ideas. One of the few ideas he came up with was fashionable about a hundred years ago and was a very complicated piece of clothing. However, when he received the outfit, he took great measure to ensure that no harm would ever come to it. 

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[hanaybuns]

man… i think it’s so important that karamatsu is the center of the osomatsu san movie. I honestly don’t think it could’ve been anyone else but him. Bc only karamatsu would hold onto a fight that happened over 10 years ago. Like yes, his regret is about the letter, but it’s more so about his failure to bring his brothers together and have an actual conversation. It’s about his helplessness and inability to communicate his frustration properly. And while it’s ALL their regrets that brought them to that world. Karamatsu has the best recollection of that time because he’s been ruminating over it for years.

...which, of course, is something he told no one about. if anything, he initially tried to get them to think positively about their high school days.

but after they drink some more, he's the first one to start talking about their past seriously

also, if you go back and watch this scene, he's the only one whose face we don't see while jyushi is teasing them with their old pics. everyone else starts laughing at his antics, except karamatsu. in fact, he actually has this reeeeaaaaalllly subtle moment where he hunches forward slightly. like he visibly tenses up a bit (i wish i knew how to make gifs man).

with karamatsu the writers like to take a very “show don’t tell” approach. Yes there are episodes where he narrates (overseas vacation) and that could be considered his inner monologue, but for the most part we kiiinda don’t really know what he’s thinking. especially when he's being insulted. like he straight up either doesn't respond or he just goes "mmmm~~?"

(and as we know, he gets insulted a lot)

the thing is, this is by design. Because not only do we have a direct quote from his voice actor (yuichi nakamura) about it.

we also literally have an entire skit criticizing him for it.

but i think that this tendency to hold things in directly stems from that fight on the roof. The one time he really tried to step out of his comfort zone and approach his brothers about something earnestly, he started the worst fight they’ve ever had.

(also side note, he actually only starts opening up about it after he takes a couple sips from the beer osomatsu got for them)

Now I’m not going to argue with the director over whether karamatsu is a 100% bonafide kind good hearted person or not (though i should note that this was from 2016 and his characterization has changed a lot since then). but i think it's important to note that the rest of them lowkey forgot about that fight while karamatsu consciously held it in because he didn't want to remind them of it and potentially start another fight.

when they discuss their regrets, the rest of the bros are more-so regretful over how they acted as teens. they discuss how their teenage "weirdness" stemmed from their dislike of being sextuplets. this dislike further manifested as a dislike for each other. but karamatsu's regret was over his failure to bring them together. i do appreciate that this strong piece of characterization was based around the love he has for his brothers.

this is getting wayyy too long, but i have more to say (especially about how passive karamatsu is... so many thoughts) so i might make a part 2. stay tuned (maybe lol)

[smoothlikealikeasnake]

Strawberry Princess - Chapter Four “Matted Tails and Soft Lips”

Pairing - Ot7 BTS x Reader

Genre - Hybrid!Au , Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn? , alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers

Warnings - so much fluff, teasing, suggestive, so much tension, slightly sexual, anxious thoughts, lmk if there’s anything else!

Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.

Previous Next Overview

Since the first meeting, things had gone back to the normal schedule of Jungkook and Y/n’s daily meeting at the gym with some additional outside meet-ups where different members of Jk’s pack had attended too. Y/n had met up with every single member of his pack atleast twice since and everyone had grown more comfortable. They had all since experienced Y/n’s more playful side, far from her shy and meek side. Like when Jimin thought it’d be funny to jokingly dangle a rattling toy infront of her back and forth and instead of going for the toy, he found himself being the target, ending up with Y/n very happily ontop of him before taking the toy and walking off as if it was nothing, leaving him in a state of shock on the living room floor. Or when Jin asked for her opinion on some strawberry cream he’d made to go with dessert and instead of just placing it in her mouth, he purposely smudged it on her nose so she took her spoon and wiped a large chunk onto his own cheek before spinning on her heel and running off giggling, finding Hoseok who wiped off her nose and hid her telling Jin she wasn’t in the room despite the sweet strawberries all around. It had all gone well but they had yet to all meet up at the same time.

That’s why Namjoon took it upon himself to organise for all of them to go out for dinner at the packs favohrite restaurant where they could also have a few drinks if they fancied it. That’s how Jungkook added the entire pack and Y/n to a groupchat where they invited her to dinner the following Friday. She happily agreed and carried on with her regular days but grew increasingly more worried about where they were going, what she would wear, the impression she had to make, the possibilities of things to consider kept piling and left her spiralling.

That’s how it came to the Tuesday morning, the week of the dinner, Jungkook was at the gym as usual and he had a special present in the car from one very particular fashion designer to give to Y/n. He had already finished his warm up when he spotted Y/n making her way over, water bottle in hand and smile lighting up the room. Jungkook immediately noticed her scent was slightly sweeter than usual and was surprised as the first thing she did when she got over was wrap him in a tight hug, not even able to return it as she trapped him in before greeting him and smiling up again.

“How’s my Y/nie been?” - Jungkook beamed as she let go and handed him the bottle

“You only saw me yesterday Kook and we’ve been texting you know I’ve been good” - her words however contradicted the her plump bottom lip, swollen and red from her biting it mostly likely from anxiety, she started to nibble at it again after she finished talking and Jungkook quickly realised she must be getting overstimulated by something or multiple things so he made a quick decision to change the setting to something new for her to focus on.

“You know I really feel like going to the pool, you want to come?” Jungkook asked as he looked down at the curious kitty who didn’t even know the gym had a pool, it made sense because it was on the lowest floor and not many people knew about it so it was always empty. Before she could answer she watched and felt as Jungkook rested her hand under her chin to tilt it up and used him thumb to pull her plump lip from between her teeth leaving her slightly mouth slightly agape from shock and the flustered feeling that flooded her body. She didn’t trust her words to be coherent so all she did was nod and grab onto Jungkooks inked arm, tight enough to show she wasn’t letting go until they left and he just smiled at her antics, hoping to soothe her.

“Let’s just grab my bag then yeah? Are you okay to come now?” - He looked up across the room to find Y/n’s friend was nowhere in sight, he didn’t dwell long as a sound of approval fell from y/n’s lips and she leant in further so he hurried his movements before guiding them out of the door.

‘Did she just come for me?’ He couldn’t help but wonder.

———————————————————————————

The journey to the indoor pool was short but Y/n didn’t let go of Jungkooks arm once and he had no complaints when he pushed open the glass door and felt the warm air hit him as he took in the beautiful room. The room was dimly lit with LEDs in the wall, brick and stone designs around with beautiful decoration all over, the room was truly a treasure to those who knew about it.

Jungkook led Y/n towards two lounge beds where he placed his bag on one and gently pushed on Y/n’s shoulders to sit her on the other which snapped her out of the trance she had dropped into as she looked around in awe.

“This is beautiful, do you come here a lot?” - Y/n asked, mouth slightly agape as she looked around

“Not as often as I’d like, I forget about it existing a lot to be honest” - Jungkook

“Are you getting in?” - He continued as he looked at her curiously

She grew shy at that, the idea of being in a bikini infront of him making her flush

“I don’t have a bikini with me so I won’t” - she was glad that’s all she really had to say as Jungkook had began pulling off his shirt and revealing his chiselled torso, huge biceps and the full extend of his arm tattoos which she followed down his chest to his waist before they disappeared beneath the band of his shorts, she admired the abs that lead into his defined v-line and faint trail of hair before she couldn’t help but wonder as she looked-

“That’s too bad, next time being one, it’ll be fun” - Jungkooks words had her snapping her eyes to his face, mouth agape for a different reason to before this time, his words definitely weren’t helping her case as she was flustered, incredibly attracted to him and struggling to comprehend everything set out infront of her. Even if he meant his words innocently, she couldn’t stop herself from dwelling on the then, what would he think if he saw her in a bikini? Would he like- she had to stop herself there as he lightly chuckled before walking away and getting into the pool.

He looked straight out of a movie in that moment and Y/n couldn’t tear her eyes away as he got in fully before he turned back towards her

“It’s warm, come sit on the edge” he smiled up happily at her as she obeyed with a smile and took off her long socks and shoes, shyly moving towards the edge and dipping in the bottom half of her legs as she sat down.

Jungkook seemed to enjoy his time as she moved around quickly and got his hair soaked in seconds before going under the water and swimming up to her, jumping up and splashing her making her scold him as she giggled.

“Jungkook don’t do that your getting me all wet” - she giggled holding her hands up in protest turning her head away, his only response was to use her legs as the edge of the pool as he held onto them and shook his hair, water flying all over her making her protest even louder before turning towards him and pushing her hand through the water to splash him as much as possible in her position. He stood shocked for a second before taking his own action

“You really want to play that game kitty?” - he only smirked before splashing her twice as much with ease making her squeak and try to shake it off in her spot as she wiggled before doing it back, this continued as Y/n spun in her seated position around many times and only ended up soaking her entire body, tail droopy and heavy with water and definitely matted but she didn’t notice in that moment, full of laughter and happy with Jungkooks warm hand on her thigh even if he was splashing her.

She thought he’d finally calmed down as he got closer and held onto her legs but felt herself be hoisted into the air and screamed as Jungkook lifted her over his head, over the pool and spun around on the spot as she screamed with laughter and kicked her legs wildly, holding onto him as tightly as possible, so much her claws punctured him slightly but neither of them noticed.

“Jeon Jungkook let me down!” She shouted only to scream as he jokingly put her closer to the pool surface as if he’d put her down in that instead

“Put you down here?” - he laughed as he did it over and over, lifting her up and down and jostling her around above the pool before finally giving in and putting her to safety on the side, where she began.

“I’m going to get you back for that Jeon” - Y/n was still giggling as she threatens but unknowingly started to shiver as she sat in the wet spot. Jungkook noticed and moved to pull himself out next to her and once again momentarily distracted her as the scene seemed to play in slo mo for her. It didn’t help when her eyes followed as the once loose shorts now stuck tightly to the rest of his figure, deliciously built thighs and a surprisingly plump ass and once again her eyes travelled to his front just below that devilish vline that had somehow ended up right infront of her face- her eyes snapped up as a towel was offered infront of her face and a hand to pull her up, she took Jungkooks hand that almost made her fly inti the air and slip if it hadn’t of been for the steadying wrap around her waist once she was set down. He placed the soft towel around her before using his own to dry himself off as best as possible. He quickly realised the two would be soaked in the car still and he had yet to give Y/n her present.

“Put this on Y/nie, I’ll drive you home, there’s a present for you in the car” - Jungkook handed her his shirt from earlier before as he got his own out of his gym bag, he thought she might like the one that smelled stronger of his scent and she definitely did, taking a big sniff of it once it was in her hands before thanking him. He turned around to give her some privacy to change, it wasn’t ideal as her skirt would still be wet but the shirt would cover it and make it more comfortable, she could even take off her skirt and no one would know the shirt would be that big on her. When she signalled that it was fine to turn around it seemed that’s exactly what she did as she drowned in the black shirt he gave her , it only slightly tightened around her chest before flowing out and falling just above her knees, in her hands was a neatly folded top and skirt, still very wet but he took it from her hands and placed it into a seperate bag before putting it away to take back with them.

“Ready?” - Jungkook asked as he picked up his bag and tried to ignore the amazing feeling that flooded him as he admired her in his shirt, it’s all he ever wanted to see her in again, covered in his scent so everyone would know that she was only his- but she wasn’t… yet? And she wouldn’t be only his, he’d be his mates’ too, they’d be each others, it sounded so good he almost felt like the smallest touch of her hand on his was going to set him into a scenting spree as he eyed her neck longingly, pupils dilating.

“Go on Kookie” - Y/n could tell exactly what he needed and she too felt like she needed it as she was sent into a haze from being surrounded by his scent, she tilted her neck to expose her scent gland and let him bend down to muzzle onto the sensitive spot, holding back a gasp from the sensation, Y/n had to squeeze her eyes and mouth shut to resist letting out any other noises besides the purring erupting from her chest and Jungkook moved a hand behind her neck to pull her in closer and nuzzle harder. He desperately wanted too use his mouth to scent her further but resisted and settled for nuzzling the now slightly pink spot.

Jungkook pulled back and caught a glimpse of Y/n’s face, feeling his body heat up at her feeling just as good as he did but he pushed that thought aside to slip his hand into hers and guide them towards the car , placing another towel on the seats for the journey back and settling in before they set on their way back go Y/n’s house.

Their now usual routine fell in place as they got into the car, a minute or two of conversation as they pull out before Y/n fell asleep. Their journey not too long before Jungkook was pulling up to her apartment complex. He woke her up as usual with a press to her slightly swollen scent gland and prepared to get out her gifts while she was waking up.

The two walked up while Y/n was still sleepy, only half awake as they made their way up until they got to her door, that’s when her own senses started to sharpen again, feeling the cool air in the hallway and the uncomfortable feeling all over, her damp, matted tail swiping across her back before she looked at the waiting bunny infront of her and noticed he too was practically soaked. She quickly spun around to fumble with the keys and get them in the door as fast as possible to let them in before turning back around when it was finally open.

“Come in?” - She asked, almost shyly but was reassured when Jungkook beamed at her, boxes in hand and nodding as he stepped forward to accept her invite. They both walked in and Y/n closed the door behind them as Jungkook stood almost stunned, Y/n’s scent so strong it had him lightheaded and revelling in the way it was going to stick to him. He just looked around the interior that entirely suited Y/n, it was a smaller apartment but perfect for Y/n and had a fresh white modern base all around that was decorated with pastels everywhere. It was the kind of cozy that was neat but definitely comfortable in every space, blankets and pillows of all kinds over her sofa, soft rug infront of it and lots of small trinkets in various places.

Y/n loved her apartment, it was cozy and so her but airy and quiet enough in all ways to keep her from being overwhelmed. She waited patiently as Jungkook observed with a smile before leading them over to the couch, letting Jungkook place down the boxes on her table before she realised they couldn’t sit down, they were both still wet somewhere, Y/n was soaking through the shirt Jungkook gave her in all directions, tail, hair, soaked bra and panties underneath. Jungkook was slightly dryer, his hair no longer dripping but clearly wet.

“thank you for driving me home and bringing them in and your shirt” - Y/n fiddled with the bottom of the shirt she wore as she thought about what to do. She opted to bring Jungkook a towel for his hair and realised she should probably change herself. She let him know before grabbing everything she needed, changing into some pajamas because they were comfy and quickly detangling her hair which was surprisingly easy. She came back in with her hair brush and a towel for Jungkook because she wasn’t sure what he’d need. She found him looking closely at all of her little trinkets around the room and he looked handsomely cute as his puff tail twitched and juxtaposed his built figure.

“Here Jungkook, for your hair” - Y/n handed him the towel before turning round to walk to the couch.

“Oh Y/nie your tail, it’s all matted” - The kitty hadn’t even realised her long haired tail was still soaked and matting; it had her panicking, quickly grabbing for it and feeling her ears fall straight back, smile turning into a frown as her scent soured. It always seemed to overwhelm her and make her increasingly uncomfortable and sad when her tail wasn’t dry and soft, she’d dry it before she’d blow dry her hair after every shower. Jungkook immediately noticed her discomfort and picked up the brush on the side before rushing over, Y/n in distress was making him feel strangely protective and he desperately wanted to make it better. There was one thing that came to mind that he knew might overstep boundaries if she wasn’t sure too but it could take a lot of weight off Y/n’s shoulders so he took his chances.

“It’s okay Y/n, would you like me to help? Jiminie-hyung always asks one of us to brush his tail after his showers and even blow dry it.” Jungkook stepped gently as he didn’t want to further distress the girl but when he saw the acceptance in her eyes and the silent nod as she looked up at him he started to think about his next move.

“Do you have any detangler kitty?” - Jungkook didn’t want to pull too much because her tail was even thicker and longer than Jimin and his could easily be painful.

“It’s in my bedroom, I can go get it” - Y/n replied, still trying to brush her fingers through the matted tail.

“That’s okay I can go get it, if you want?” - Jungkook wanted to do everything he could to stop this feeling she had so when she looked up and nodded silently, he followed her scent to where it was strongest and found her bedroom, decorated exactly how he would imagine, pink and white all around, cozy and comfortable, art across the walls and in the midst of his search he found what he came for, detangler. He quickly made his way back before sitting next to her.

“How do you want to sit Y/n?” - Jungkook

“How does Jimin usually sit?” - Jungkook blushed at the thought of having her the same but told her, having no problem with it if she wanted to

“Jiminie lays across my lap, he says it’s the most comfortable way to do it” - To that, Y/n moved and let herself fall across his lap, head on a pillow and the top of her thighs to mid stomach on Jungkooks thighs, she didn’t even think much of it but Jungkook was stunned at the quick movement and frozen for a second with his hands hovering not knowing his next move before Y/n handed him back the brush, signalling him to start.

Still flustered by the position ,as Y/n’s bare thighs and full ass barely covered by her little shorts are right ontop of him, Jungkook gently grabs Y/n’s tail, noticing the way she jumped but not stopping as he sprayed some detangler on the brush she gave him and started from the tip of her long tail, gently brushing out all the knots.

Y/n’s body visibly relaxed as she melted in her position, purring loudly and smiling bashfully with her eyes closed, hands kneading the pillow she rested her head on. It was only when Jungkook would hit a small knot that she’d tense slightly and he’d apologise quietly, he moved across her entire top half of her tail before getting a bit shy and regularly checking on Y/n’s face as he moved a bit further down.

The close you got to the base of a hybrids tail the more sensitive it becomes, sparks will shoot through the hybrids body from any contact on their tail but it is significantly increased as they get closer to the base. When you reach the base it causes the hybrid to become naturally aroused which is why it’s so intimate touching any hybrids tail, that’s what made Jungkook so careful and nervous when brushing Y/n’s.

When he reached the lower half, Y/n’s purring immediately tripled in volume, her face nuzzling into the pillow but she seemed relaxed so Jungkook kept as calm as he could. That was until he nearly reached her tail, a gasp fell from Y/n’s lips at the contact and her hips rose involuntarily before falling back down on his legs, her sweet scent nearly suffocating Jungkook as a wave hit him. It was almost as if Jungkook forgot one very important detail, there was an incredibly strong scent gland near the base of every hybrids tail, it started in different places for different hybrids but he was clearly holding the start of Y/n’s.

Jungkook swiftly let go before apologising and asking if she wanted him to continue, she had her blushing face buried in the pillow and let out a high pitched sound of approval.

Y/n was laying there telling herself to calm down, he’s just being nice don’t think like that. Trying to stop the noises trying to pass through her lips, she only let out loud purrs. His hands were so gentle and looked so different compared to her strawberry blonde tail everytime she looked back, it was ridiculously attractive to her and wasn’t exactly helping that he was touching and unintentionally pulling at one of the most sensitive parts of her body with every pass of the brush. She was so deeply attracted to the sight of him caring for her in that way that her focus was taken away from keeping herself calm.

Jungkook was still gently brushing when he moved with hands lower down, brushing the base and as he gently gripped her tail there to carry on when he stopped dead in his tracks, stunned as loud purrs turned into something a lot more intense. In her fascination, Y/n stopped holding back all the noises from before and the second he grabbed her tail there and brushed the base, her mouth dropped open in a high whine with her eyes scrunched closed, nothing muffling the noise as her face was turned out of the pillow to watch Jungkooks hands. Her body wasn’t sent up in sparks and moved involuntarily, thighs tense and hips lifting up, pushing Jungkooks hand straight onto the base of her tail where it connected to her lower back. Y/n’s eyes shot open at that as a clear moan left her lips, hands gripping the pillow under her head tightly as she couldn’t stop her wide stare at him as it happened.

Jungkook knew better than to move in that moment, he didn’t want her to feel panicked,embarrassed or upset. He pushed aside his own body’s reaction as blood flushed to specific regions at the noises coming from Y/n and grounded himself, giving her a soft smile that she didn’t return over her shoulder, eyes still wide. Jungkook just moved the hand holding the brush to let go, other hand still on her tail as he slowly pressed circles into Y/n’s lower back, hoping to both ground and relax her. It seemed to work as the panic in her eyes slowly eased into that droopy state Jimin would get in whenever the base of his tail was touched.

Her head dropped to the pillow again, eyes softening and the rest of her body relaxing into Jungkook. In return, he kept pressing circles into her lower back, hand kept still on her tail until she could tell him what she wanted to do, he tried to ignore the slight shake of her thighs as they were pressed tightly together ontop of his lap but couldn’t help the slight glance he took. He regretted it as soon as he noticed how soft her thighs looked, the plush of them spreading across the entire expanse of his lap even when they were tightly held together. They looked like perfect pillows, hand rests, headrests and so much more but he quickly looked away before letting his thoughts progress.

“Y/n? Do you want me to keep going, there’s just this little bit here left” - Jungkook spoke gently to her as she looked at him and nodded in agreement, he was surprised at that, sure that she’d want to do it on her own but it seemed his hold on her tail had shielded her from feeling anything negative and he was glad about that. Ensuring he was as gentle as possible, Jungkook rested her tail on his hand and used the brush he previously put down to gently detangle the knots on it. Y/n wasn’t silent besides her purrs though this time, she let out small noises at every move of his hand and pull of a knot, not in disapproval, more from the pleasure she couldn’t pretend not to have. Her scent was bursting off of her in strong waves that had Jungkook have to breathe through his mouth to hold composure before it intensified and even then, breathing through his mouth didn’t help as he could taste her and that was even worse. Even worse because not that he’d have a taste it would never be enough, he snapped his mouth shut breathing minimally as he continued until he was at the part where it connected to her back and thanked his reflexes for moving away fast as Y/n’s hips jumped up again, he would of pulled her tail if not and neither of them want to know what would happen then.

When he finished, he tapped Y/n’s upper thigh twice to wake her out of her state only to have to divert his attention away completely at the sight of her thigh bouncing just from his soft pats. She was too beautiful in every way and he felt like he was starting to lose his ability to deny his attraction and little did he know, so was she, his entire pack knew too. It was time for Jungkook to have a serious chat about next steps with Y/n with his mates.

As Y/n became more conscious she slid herself slowly back, moving her knees up to being herself back up and unknowingly putting her entire body just centimetres from Jungkooks face, she wasn’t bothered as she couldn’t ignore how much better she felt, not just from her tail being nearly dry now and soft, but from being taken care of, it was unfamiliar but she enjoyed it more than she should admit. She knew after that she would be craving his attention and touch a ridiculous amount but pushed that thought aside to focus.

“It’s so soft and nearly dry thank you Kookie it’s perfect, thank you so much” - Y/n happily threw herself into his arms, thanking him with a warm embrace and stunning him at a peck on the cheek before jumping up and focusing on the boxes that were brought in.

“So what are they?” - Y/n asked curiously, leaning in to inspect the fancy boxes

“They- Tae- dinner… clothes?” - Jungkook couldn’t form real sentences as his brain was trying to process everything that happened but Y/n understood and asked to open one to which he quickly agreed. The largest box was white, wrapped with a large bow with a small tag on it

‘For a pretty kitty - V’ Y/n’s heart fluttered at the words but she picked up his designing name, it made her curious, had he bought the surprise, or had he made it?

Y/n carefully pushed off the ribbon and pulled the lid off, curious as she saw white fur. She gently moved to grab at the material, immediately noticing the softness of it, wanting to purr just at that before she pulled it out further and stood up straight to hold it infront of her.

Y/n stood shocked as the soft white fur turned into a oversized, thick faux fur coat, similar to the one Taehyung wore when they met the first time, the white blinding and the fur perfectly soft, it was constructed perfectly, it seemed the perfect length and she wanted to wrap up in it then and there, not to mention how absolutely beautiful it was.

Upon closer inspection she noticed the tag in it, labelled by Taehyung and she found an embroidered message on it too‘ the prettiest kitty ‘ with the ‘V’ above it; she quickly realised he had made this for her, to her size, recently as it was clearly brand new and plush. She spun around with it in her hands and began to excitedly show Jungkook, spinning around him, careful not to crush the coat as she felt it delicately, she spun around like a princess as she laughed and he returned the gesture, secretly getting out his phone to record the moment, knowing Taehyungs chest would fill with pride at the sight of her loving his work.

‘It’s too much Kookie, so beautiful but too much’ - Y/n’s smile turned into a small frown, ears pinning back at her realisation, as she was about to gently place it back in the box, a large figure pressed up against her back and grabbed her wrists, pulling them away from the box to stop her. It all happened too fast from Jungkook pressing up against her to him leaning down to whisper in her ear while his thumbs pressed into the scent glands on her wrists where she felt her, making her gasp.

“I’ll let you in on a secret Y/nie, nothing is too much when it comes to you, we would give you the world, hyungs wouldn’t react as lightly as I am to you rejecting a gift because it’s ‘too much’” - Something had changed in Jungkooks voice as he whispered, body pressing impossibly close and thumbs applying more pressure, she realised it was his Busan satoori , thick on his tongue as his warm breath tickled her ear. She practically melted on the spot as she clocked his words, nothing is too much? Why would they feel like that? All of them… and then the realisation at the rest of his words set in. If this was reacting lightly, while she should deny it, Y/n really wanted to know how the rest of them reacted, it had blood rushing to her cheeks and her breath hitching.

“You understand, don’t you Y/nie?” - She thought he was finished until he said that, a high pitched noise of approval calling from her lips with her head nodding. She felt like she could finally breathe for a second as he started to pull away from her back until he leant in to whisper again

“Good girl, now go open the rest.” - the praise had a gasp leaving Y/n, her knees buckling slightly and butterflies filling her stomach but Jungkook switched up immediately, stepping back with a bit smile, his duality confused her but she had to push that thought aside as he asked her of something.

“Put it on” - Jungkook beamed at her as he said, she silently obeyed and put on the glamourous coat, it fit perfectly for her, oversized in the best way and it made her feel more luxurious than she ever had

“I love it.” - It’s all she could say as Jungkook could tell she felt so much more about it and encouraged her to open the next box, more nervous about if she’d like this one as much

The second box is smaller but just as beautifully packaged, a large bow and ribbon across it which she carefully removed, this one addressed from Jimin

‘Red will definitely be your colour - Jimin’

It had her curiosity growing as she opened the box and saw white mesh over red material and gently pulled it out, her eyes widened at the beautifully constructed dress before her.

It was red, a long fitted dress that loosened slightly at her thigh from a slit, it was both simple and complex, the perfect balance as a Matt crimson material was the base, a nearly transparent white tulle overtop that slightly ruched at the waist, both materials slightly draped at the chest area as it had thin straps to hold it on, when she looked at the back she found the tulle thickened into a large bow that slightly adjusted and underneath was the zip. The layers of the dress were connected but made it seem fuller with so much dimension, the red was prominent but somehow perfectly complimented by the white overlay.

Y/n had never worn a dress similar, it was incredible, she had never even imagined such a thing but she knew it could perfectly suit her, all she worried about was the measurements. Would it fit her? How would they of even known what size she would be? And when she saw the label, the cursive ‘Jimin’ with his own short message underneath ‘the first gift’ somehow she knew he had specifically designed this for her, in that sense he had also tailored this to her size wise but how?

Jungkook answered her unspoken question

“Tae and Jimin have an eye for knowing near exact measurements when it comes to clothes, you should try it on, I know he’d be happy to make any adjustments if it didn’t fit.” - He was more than happy to see her enjoying the gifts and knew the final two would tie it all together but admittedly was desperate to see her in the dress.

“I’ll go try it on now!” - Y/n was almost jumping with excitement, her freshly brushed tail swinging rapidly, smacking Jungkook as she spun on her feet and headed towards her bedroom. While she did Jungkook took the opportunity get his phone out and text him and his mates’ group chat.

‘She’s opened the coat and dress, she loves them’ - JK

‘Has she tried them on? What did she say about them?’ - JM

‘I knew she’d love it’ - TH

‘She has only tried the coat on, she’s so happy and she’s trying the dress on now’ - JK

Both of the designers hearts swelled with pride and joy at her enjoying their work

‘Just listen out, she’ll need help to do the zipper’ - JM

‘Tell us if it fits, tell us how it looks’ - TH

Jungkook quickly agreed and on that cue, hear Y/n’s soft voice calling out to him from her room, he walked up to the door and found her back facing him, long hair falling down her back just below her waist, the dress was on but not zipped up, he could see her arms holding the front up to hide herself but she looked over her shoulder embarrassed

“Could you zip me up please?” - Y/n refused to look into his eyes as she asked but he just smiled and nodded moving forward to touch the dress. When he got close enough her tail was tickling him as it sway, comfortably fitted in the small hole designed for it, before it moved to one side so Jungkook could reach. As he held either side his warm breath danced over her shoulder as he looked down, he held the two sides on her lower back and felt his thumbs graze either side of her lower spine as he held the zipper and slowly pulled it up. He could only move it a little bit before he gently gathered Y/n’s hair and placed it over her shoulder, revealing the rest of her back. His knuckle grazed her spine the entire time he pulled the zipper up and Y/n was a flustered mess when he was finished. He adjusted the bow to cover the zip again and tightened it before telling her it was finished.

She looked down before stepping forward, thanking him and turning around, not having seen it on herself before Jungkooks jaw dropped, she was absolutely breathtaking, the dress fit like a glove, it complimented her skin, her hair, her eyes, her aura, it was perfect on her. Only one word could fall out of Jungkooks mouth in that moment and it just

“Beautiful…” - Y/n’s heart swelled at that, not knowing how it looked but already feeling good about herself. That lead to her smiling and walking to her full length mirror. She really did look beautiful and she felt so good about herself, the dress fit perfectly, her waist fitted and hips accentuated.

The only thing newer to her was the cleavage, she never wore shirts with cleavage and having a quite large breasts meant that in this dress, they were very much out and she wouldn’t normally be comfortable but for some reason, she felt amazing about it. She was only going to be with the boys who in the last few weeks, she had learnt to trust with her life, she wasn’t sure why they got so close so quickly but she was comfortable wearing this around them, she was comfortable around them altogether.

While Y/n was admiring the dress in the mirror, Jungkook had a second to process the princess in front of him, the beauty she held and the way she made brought the design and vision Jimin had to life, he’d be so happy right now and he desperately wanted to take a picture but knew it would be better for them to wait, for them to have a big reveal. His time to process was cut off when his eyes refocused on Y/n, her body was soft, his hands always melted into her whenever he touched her and it drove him crazy but this dress accentuated every bit of her body, from her wide hips and large thighs up her soft tummy and to her large breasts, it showed every small mark on her revealed skin, every freckle and scar from her previous years, the documents of her life before them, she had stained his mind ever since they met.

From the second he lay eyes on her and it all felt too real in that moment, gifting her his mates’ special designs, helping her into her dress, brushing her tail and having her trust him with one of the most sensitive parts of her body and being comfortable enough to allow it all to happen, it felt right. It felt like they were meant to be, she was absolutely perfect in every way, every little mark on her skin was perfect, every time she would make her own marks on him by accident when she wouldn’t retract her claws was perfect, every little moment with her felt unreal. Reality felt like the most beautiful dream when he was with her; he was more than grateful, more than lucky, all he could hope is that she felt the same way but somehow he knew, within he knew that she did feel that way too, maybe it was the glint in her eyes or maybe it was the way she leant into his touch, maybe it was the way she let her hybrid surface whenever they were together or maybe it was the way she trusted him, somehow he knew.

His breathe was caught when she turned around again and he was so infatuated with her that he couldn’t hear what she said until she slightly frowned and said his name, he had to ask her to repeat herself sheepishly.

“Unzip me? Please, I don’t want to ruin it, it’s so perfect” - Y/n was so cute to him, the way her eyes looked over the dress in awe as her hair fell over her face and she used both hands to push it back, even her smallest actions were so cute. He snapped out of his thoughts as he agreed and walked forward, gently holding her bare shoulders as he walked behind her and pushed her hair to the side again, moving under the tulle bow to the zip.

‘She’s the epitome of perfection, of pure joy and beauty, one day I’ll know she’s mine’ - Jungkook knew he fell hard and fast but as his hands grazed her back and goosebumps grew on her arms as she slightly pushed into his hands, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“You know, Jimin and Taehyung take it upon themselves to dress us all for every event, it’s one way they show their love” - He’d hoped she’d understand what he meant by this and when he felt her skin warm up, scent sweeten and tail swing faster, he knew she was blushing and understood.

“You all must look even more handsome than usual at every event then, I feel so pretty, I’ll have to return their love soon hm?” - Y/n spoke her thoughts word for word, almost in a dream in her mind, not even thinking much about how she’d admitted to wanting to reciprocate their love, Jungkooks felt her heart beating as fast as his own, rapidly thumping against her chest, it made him smile so wide. That was until he’d fully unzipped the dress and quickly noticed the fabric start to slouch at her waist, Y/n was so deep in thought that she hadn’t grabbed the fabric to hold against her chest. He worked quickly to grab the two sides from the top where the zipper connects and hold them high on her back so she wouldn’t be exposed, she still hadn’t realised until Jungkook called out her name with a ‘Careful’ it had her snapping back, cheeks flushing, embarrassed but also smiling at how much of a gentleman he was and how he had brought back that first time they spoke, when he’d told her to be careful as she dropped that bottle.

She thanked him quickly and looked over his shoulder up at him, holding her chest to hold the dress up when he let go, she felt the air grow thick as their eyes connected, anything around them muffling as they zoned in on eachother. Y/n captured his doe eyes as she studied his face, appreciating the warmth in his eyes, the hair brushing his forehead, messy from the pool earlier, the piercing on his eyebrow, his soft nose, sharp jawline, the way his soft eyes juxtaposed that dominant appearance he held everywhere else, until her eyes travelled down slightly, to the pink lips, wrapped in a thin silver ring on the same side as his eyebrow piercing, she intended to look away until his scent thickened, the soft linen smell travelling through her body until his mouth slightly parted to let his tongue past through to wet his lips and there she discovered a new detail he had kept well hidden.

When he licked his lips she saw the silver on his tongue, a tongue piercing, she didn’t know why but it had her melting on the spot, his tall figure looming over her, she felt herself slightly pushing herself up onto her tip toes to get closer , hands still holding the dress. Jungkooks own hands let go of the dress to fall onto her soft hips, he felt the perfect hand rests as his fingers immediately melted into her skin. He gripped hard enough to pull her in closer, she would of stumbled if it wasn’t for her grip keeping her exactly where he wanted her. His own gaze fell from her wide eyes to her plump lips, their natural tint drawing his in as they fell open the tiniest bit, they both knew what they wanted when she pushed herself higher and he leant down slightly, hands holding her hips tighter, he watched her eyes softly close and knew this was the moment he had been waiting for, his opportunity of confirmation. He could feel her soft, strawberry breath on his own lips, just an inch apart when he leant down, his hair definitely tickling her.

The moment could have been ruined by the loud vibrations on his phone, definitely texts from his mates asking about the dress but he refused to let it stop this. He made sure she was flush against his front in that moment and let one of his hands move up to cup from the back of her neck to her jaw, tilting her head even further up to connect their lips. It was like fireworks had set off in the both of them, y/n tried to push impossibly closer to his body, finally getting to taste the linen that would stick to her every single day, it tasted so good she nearly fell right there, she had already fallen in one way she wouldn’t let it be physically shown, or so she thought when her knees buckled but she was held exactly where she was by Jungkooks strong hands.

She let him take the lead, not even thinking about how this was her first kiss, she was more than glad to let him take it. She’d never even come close to a romantic or intimate relationship due to her reserved personality but she knew when she grew so comfortable with him and his mates that she wanted them. Jungkook felt her letting him take the lead and wanted to smirk but did exactly what she wanted instead of letting pride consume him. He kept it sweet, lightly dancing his lips over hers to ease her in, it felt so good to have that ripe strawberry taste fill his mouth and to have her soft pillowy lips against his own, perfectly fitting between each others. He pushed his own lips slightly harder against hers, keeping her steady as her body reacted, he didn’t want to make it too much the first time so he slowly pulled away. As he got a few inches from her face he opened his eyes, being softer with the hand on her neck and jaw, her eyes were still closed and lips slightly parted even more pink and plump than before just from the short kiss, he couldn’t help but wonder about how they’d look in the future, when it all happened again.

His thoughts were cut off when she opened her eyes, she felt hot, soft and so many things but one look into his eyes had her relaxing, she knew he didn’t regret it and neither did she. She wanted nothing more in that moment but for it to happen again but she also knew she wouldn’t be able to cope, not with the way she had melted in his hands, his thumb gently rubbed over her neck and hit her scent gland over and over, her eyes faultered slightly again. She could feel his grip loosen slightly on her waist and she fell a small amount to the ground from her tip-toes, he already seemed ridiculously tall but when she was looking up at him like that, his big hands all over her, he seemed like a god.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while princess” - He smiled happily down at her but her eyes slightly widened at the confession and his satoori that had come out again, her own voice felt small but she knew he heard it

“I have too” - the confirmation was all they both needed to feel nothing but pure bliss. It took a minute before they both recovered as they realised Y/n still needed to get out of the dress and Jungkook left the room to give her privacy, immediately texting his mates so fast that he was making every typo possible but they understood, it was a step that had them all stopping in their tracks and smiling, melting even. Nothing else was thought about in that moment, not in Namjoons office, not in the kitchen with Jin, not in Yoongis piercing room where he was planning clients, not in Hoseoks dance studio, and not in Jimin and Tae’s meeting.

When Y/n came back into the living room in her set from before they both smiled bashfully at eachother before Jungkook told her she had one more present to open, her hands were slightly shaking from the previous interaction as she opened the smaller box, finding a pair of pretty white kitten heels with a small tulle bow over the toe box that matched the bow on the back of the dress exactly. They were about just under two inches high, easy for her to walk in and a bright white, one that matched the fur coat, she was already stunned by the other firsts but these brought the entire outfit together it was amazing to her how they’d thought of everything and in the soles she saw the branding of Jimin and Taehyungs company, she traced over it in appreciation with a wide smile on her face.

Fully holding one shoe she saw a small handwritten card underneath, addressed from Jimin and Taehyung

‘We hope you like it kitty, you’ll look beautiful” - the short message had her internally screaming like a child, she wanted to get up and jump with joy at the entire day she felt like she was in heaven, she couldn’t properly express anything so she just looked over her shoulder with a huge smile, not even saying anything and didn’t even notice as he clicked a picture of her, heel and note in hand, sitting so cute as she smiled at him over her shoulder. He immediately sent to the groupchat

‘Our Strawberry Princess’

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Just know it hasn’t been proofread or edited but next chapter will be out very soon!

This chapter was very Jungkook centred but from here on it’ll be mostly Ot7! Please feel free to ask questions, request headcannons or drabbles!

Side note; who else is in love with Come back to me, omg I am listening on repeat it’s just so good!

ཐི♡ཋྀ

[sturnswrites]

protective!matt and innocent!reader see each other for the first time since high school …

You hadn’t expected him to look like this.

The office is sleek and imposing—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pulse of New York, deep charcoal tones, and marble accents that scream precision. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a man like Matt Sturniolo. But none of it is as commanding as him.

When he looks up from the paperwork on his desk, the first thing you notice is the way his piercing blue eyes meet yours, steady and sharp, sending a ripple through your chest. You remember those eyes, even after all these years, but they seem different now—hardened, more focused. They hold the weight of someone who doesn’t let anyone too close.

“You’re here,” he says simply, as though he doubted you’d actually show up.

You nod, clutching your sketchpad tighter against your chest. “Of course. I wasn’t going to back out of a project like this.”

His gaze softens just a touch, but his expression remains unreadable. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t trust you to handle it.”

Those words settle deep in your stomach, warm and unexpected. Matt had hired you—sought you out specifically for this project, despite being surrounded by some of the best designers in the city. He’d told you in his email that he admired your work, that your eye for creating spaces that “felt like people” was exactly what his office needed.

But standing here, in his presence, you can’t help but feel out of place.

“It’s been a while,” you manage, your voice quieter than you’d like as your gaze darts away from his.

“Years,” he agrees, standing from behind the desk. He moves with the kind of confidence that fills a room effortlessly—broad shoulders, rolled-up sleeves revealing strong forearms, and a no-nonsense air about him that makes your pulse stutter. Yet, there’s a familiarity to him, too, like he’s still the boy you passed in the halls of your Boston high school.

“Boston feels like a lifetime ago,” you add softly, not knowing what else to say.

Matt tilts his head slightly, the hint of a smirk pulling at his mouth. “You haven’t changed as much as you think.”

Your cheeks heat at the way he’s looking at you, like he’s remembering something only he knows—something that feels too heavy for the quiet moment stretching between you. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” you joke, trying to keep the mood light as you scan the pristine office.

“It is,” he replies, his voice low but sure. “You’ve always had a way of seeing things differently. That’s why you’re here.”

That catches you off guard, and you glance back at him to find his eyes still fixed on you, holding your gaze like he’s daring you to look away. There’s something in them—something protective, almost possessive—that wasn’t there before.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, your voice almost lost in the cavernous room.

Matt nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark trousers. “Let’s see what you’ve got in mind, then.”

The words are professional enough, but the way he says them—steady, low, and just a little too soft—makes your heart skip. You busy yourself pulling out your sketchpad, desperate for something to distract you from the weight of his attention.

As you start explaining your ideas, your voice finds confidence in the familiarity of your work. You talk about softening the harsh lines of the space, adding warmth and texture to make the office feel less like a fortress and more like him.

Matt listens intently, never once interrupting. His eyes follow you as you move around the room, gesturing to where you’d add natural light, plants, subtle artwork that tells a story. It’s only when you glance back at him that you catch it—the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“You’ve thought this through,” he says finally, his voice softer than before.

“I don’t take projects lightly,” you respond, standing taller despite the flutter in your chest. “Especially not ones like this.”

For a beat, the silence hangs between you—thick, charged, and laced with something you can’t quite name. It’s the energy of two people who know each other but don’t, who share a history but have yet to bridge the gap the years have created.

“You haven’t changed,” he repeats quietly, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long.

“And you have,” you counter, surprising even yourself with the boldness in your voice. “But not as much as you think.”

That earns you a faint, knowing smirk, and the glint in his blue eyes shifts—something softer, something real.

As you turn back to your sketches, you feel him watching you still. The tension is palpable, humming just beneath the surface, like an unspoken understanding that this project—this reunion—will be more complicated than either of you are willing to admit.

But Matt hired you for a reason. He trusted you. And for now, that has to be enough to steady the chaos he so effortlessly brings into your carefully curated world.

----------------------------------------------------------------

[hollyoongs]

⤷ SINGLE DAD TAESAN FELL IN LOVE!

시놉시스 ┆𝘁͟aesan, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +6k ꒰ ⌗ angst, mutual pinning and a lot of fluff ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

“Come on, Dad! I’m going to be late for the recital!” Dohyun was dragging his young dad through the hallways of the school, his cute little elf costume already out of place due to the running from every member of the family.

“Dohyun, we are getting there! Just slow down a little for your grandparents!.” Taesan said, smiling when his son behaved and all three adults could walk slightly slower.

“God Lord, Dohyun! I’m putting you in track classes or whatever it’s called,” Taesan’s dad said, making his grandson Dohyun smile wide.

“Shut up and buy some snacks.” Now it was the turn of Taesan’s mom to talk out to him, giving him a few dollar bills so that he can have the food. The two adults and the kid went straight to designated places of the school theater. Once the kid was seated, his grandma fixed his clothes as Taesan got out his mom's makeup pouch to retouch Dohyun’s makeup. Once Grandma was finished and gave a good luck kiss on the forehead to his grandson, they ran to the back of the stage, saying “Sorry” every now and then to any person that he slightly pushed.

He looked for a seat that was available and thanked the person that left it hidden. Dohyun ran to sit, and Taesan followed behind, kneeling in front of the kid with the makeup pouch fully opened.

“Hold still, Dohyun.” Taesan whispered, carefully dabbing a bit of blush onto his son’s chubby cheeks as he learned from the moms of the class, making him scrunch his nose a little as he giggled.

“Dad! It tickles!” Dohyun squirmed, his tiny elf hat slipping over his eyes.

“Hey, hey, we can’t have the cutest elf in the recital looking like a clown, even more if it is my son.” Taesan teased as he gently readjusted the hat and wiped the stray makeup he did with his thumb. He looked around when his son asked for a bathroom break, noticing how the kids had their moms beside them and smiled with slight nostalgia.

Being a dad at 20 was no joke to him, but it was a responsibility Taesan was going to fulfill the moment he held the little body of Dohyun in his arms. At fifteen, he hadn’t known much about life; he was barely old enough to understand himself, let alone how to raise another human being. But of course, he was big enough to know where to place his dick, and it was not inside his underwear. 

His mind was not prepared for his girlfriend passing away in a car accident the day all the family was going to the delivery appointment. The memory haunted him like a vivid nightmare, one that he couldn’t escape. He remembered holding her hand. chattering about names and what features the baby might inherit, everything changing in a split second.

The air was not joyful as before, but heavy with desperation. The screech of tires, the deafening crunch of metal, and how everything spun out of control were etched into his mind. The moment he looked at his right side dizzy, it hit him like a punch; she was gone, and with her, part of his heart left with it.

Dohyun had to be delivered through an emergency C-section and directly to the NICU, hooked up to wires and monitors that thankfully beeped steadily. He remembered how he was clinging to that sound like a lifeline, being the only sign that something—someone—had survived. A part of her.

Her parents didn’t even let him come to the funeral, firm believers that it was his fault for her passing, or in her father's words that were covered in venom and grief, “You ruined her life.” And he still remembers the lack of strength he had to argue because, deep down, he believed it too. 

The hospital stay was a blur, exhaustion and paperwork that he needed to help himself with the phone and his parents. But he remembers the moment he was left alone with a days-old Dohyun. The nurses had wheeled the bassinet into his room, and he simply stared. Who could imagine a human could be so small, so fragile, and yet so heartbreakingly real?

When Taesan had Dohyun in his trembling arms, it was like a button had been pushed that made him break into tears. He cried a river—deep, gut-wrenching sobs that shook his entire body, not even caring how his parents saw, for the first time ever, him turning into pieces. 

He cried for her, for his ruined future with her, for the childhood he was about to lose, and for this new role he had to take alone. He cried until he felt his head hurt and both of his parents' heads on each side of his shoulder, hugging the two of them as they cried with them, watching the pacific face of the sleepy baby.

Dohyun was a piece of her, a tiny reminder of the girl he had loved. He wasn’t ready to be a father, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Taesan realized he had two choices: step up or let life swallow them both whole.

And he chose to step up.

He was already used to pitiful looks and disapproving words from every direction. He heard it all, whether the words were whispered or written on someone’s glance. At first, it stung like salt on an open wound, but he managed to make those people's words the background noise of their life.

His parents were no exception. When they first found out about the pregnancy, their disappointment was a physical barrier between them. They barely spoke to him; he felt like a stranger in his own home. But at the seventh month of her pregnancy, they had a change of heart. The small change involved raised voices and tears, deciding at the end that they wanted to be involved.

Even with the anger piled up, he would always catch her mom knitting tiny blankets in the evenings, and his dad began painting the extra room they had at home and searching for cribs.

Dohyun became their world. Taesan and his parents worked together like a family. His mom took care of Dohyun when Taesan had classes, a non-negotiable for the parents to keep living in the house; his dad taught him practical parenting skills he never thought he’d need, and he worked two part-time jobs to make enough money for him.

There were sleepless nights, endless worries about money, and moments when the grief was still present. But he overcame it; thankfully, he got a scholarship to the best university thanks to his grades and finally got a stable job that pays more than enough.

“Dad, I need help with my suspenders.” He slightly shook his head when he heard the voice of his son, smiling at how he was looking weirdly at the piece of clothing.

“To the rescue.” He took him by his arms and sat him on an empty table, making airplane sound effects. From the corner of his eye, Taesan noticed movement by the door, realizing it was you going in with a clipboard, ushering parents, and checking on the kids. The soft red cardigan gives you a beautiful glow, and your hair accentuates your features beautifully. He could feel his heart skip, like it always did when he saw you.

You were your mom's current replacement as a teacher; you were on college vacation, and you took that time to help out as your mother was on a trip until New Year. He didn’t know there was a change until he saw you for the first time, giving him his son after a small class picnic, being hooked by you.

Sure, he felt ashamed to start having a crush on his son’s teacher, a teacher that was the same age as him, but there was something about you that made him feel safe. It wasn’t just your beauty, though that alone could make anyone lose their breath. It was the way you carried yourself, the way you spoke to the kids with kindness. It was how you listened—not just heard, but truly listened—to the worries and small triumphs of every parent who came to you, as if their world mattered as much as your own. 

Taesan wasn’t even sure when it started. Maybe it was the day you knelt down to fix Dohyun’s shoelace with a smile that crinkled the corners of your eyes. Or maybe it was the first time he heard you laugh because of his clumsiness around you—a sound so warm that it felt like his own heart being full. He only remembers his mother pushing him after she realized his feelings for her when he went to a parents meeting with her favorite flowers.

Whatever it was, it was undeniable now.

“Dad, you’re staring.” Dohyun’s voice cut through his thoughts once again, dragging his gaze from you to the tiny smirk on his son’s face.

“I’m not,” Taesan replied quickly, his ears flushing pink as he clipped Dohyun’s suspenders in place. “I’m just making sure my favorite elf is recital ready.”

“No… You were looking at Miss Y/N again.” He raised his eyebrows several times, teasing him, and Taesan was about to hide under that table.

“Just be quiet, or you will not have hot chocolate at home.” He used his dad card, and the kid “zipped” his mouth. But not long after that, he dropped a sentence that felt like a snowball being smashed on his face.

“Can Miss Y/N be my mom?” 

“Dohyun, lower your voice!” Taesan’s voice was barely above a whisper, his face now fully red, matching the poinsettias decorating the room for ambiance. 

“Why? Grandma says she’s nice, pretty, and that you like her.” Dohyun was so unbothered, completely the opposite of his panicking dad. He had to finish working in the suspenders and put him on the ground. Kids really had the uncanny ability to expose your deepest thoughts without even trying.

“It’s… complicated, buddy,” he somehow managed to say, smoothing down Dohyun’s costume as a distraction. “And it’s not something you can just ask. She’s your teacher, and I’m—”

“Handsome, responsible, and funny!” Dohyun interrupted, and Taesan's eyes widened. “That’s what Grandma says. I say you make the best pancakes. She’d like you if you made her pancakes, Dad.” 

“You’re spending too much time with your grandma.” Taesan shook his head, trying not to laugh at the attempt of both his mom and his own son, trying to make him find someone.

“It's okay, Dad. I’ll tell her for you. Miss Y/N!” Never in a million years would Taesan have imagined his son screaming at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of everyone backstage. His face turned a deeper shade of crimson as he watched you walking to both of you.

You arrived in no time, smiling at Taesan before kneeling down to his eye level. “Yes, Dohyun?” you asked warmly.

“My dad wants to ask you to—”

“If the makeup is well executed!” Taesan came up with an excuse faster than the speed of light; he made a ‘quiet’ gesture to Dohyun when he saw you viewing the makeup.

“Yes, Taesan, it’s well done. You got better.” 

“Okay! Listen up, we are about to go to the stage. Please separate into groups: Santas, elves, and reindeer." The other teacher that was in charge of the choreography called out the kids, and Dohyun left them both alone. The parents of the rest of the kids were starting to leave, rushing to their seats to set all the cameras to record every moment of their child's recital. “Let’s rehearse before we go to the stage.”

A touch on his shoulder made him turn his sight from his son to you, the culprit. You smiled softly at him, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“How are you, Taesan? You haven’t been around for a few weeks.” You said, going around collecting some trash left behind, him helping right away willingly. 

It was refreshing having someone the same age as you around, aside from your college friends, and you couldn’t lie to yourself that meeting Taesan was something that you would love to do in all your lives. 

He was not only handsome, but how he was a person spoke volumes about his character—gentle, attentive, and full of strength. He also had this goofy side of him; he only showed his son that you could catch a glimpse of it and laugh quietly without the duo noticing it; his clumsy side, however, was the one you saw the most.

“I’ve been good, just work and college. I got vacation from both, and that’s why I could come to see Dohyun.” Taesan replied, trying to keep his tone steady as he picked up a stray juice box.

“That’s amazing. He couldn’t stop mentioning every day how many days were left for you to be on a break.” Both of you laughed, going to the trash cans and depositing everything in your hands.

“He made me practice his lines, and not to brag, but his dance is amazing.” You give him a soft chuckle while Taesan scratches the back of his neck. 

“He’s adorable, and he’s lucky to have you. You’re doing a great job, Dongmin.”

Whenever you said his real name, it was like a warm hug to his heart; he felt reassured and couldn’t help but break into a smile with the words coming from you. “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot.”

“Y/N, the kids are about to go to the stage; take the “reindeers.”” Another teacher caught your attention, and you remembered why you were there in the first place.

“I’m going! You should also leave backstage; seeing your son in the front is so much better." Because of the excitement, you grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, your fingers intertwined, that left him shocked. You looked down on what you did and immediately lost his hand from yours, embarrassed. “Sorry!”

He saw you running to your designated group, catching a small glimpse of how your ears turned red. Taesan stood there for a moment, his hand tingling where yours had just been, as if your touch had left an imprint. 

He walked out of the backstage area with a lovesick smile, a smile that was caught by her mom, who laughed quietly with her husband. He took the recording camera from his backpack when the place exploded with claps and cheers; the kids were slowly entering, and Dohyun spotted Taesan immediately. 

He waved at Dohyun with equal excitement when he realized he was front row and center, letting his parents know, and they also brought up their phones with the same excitement as him. His eyes went to you; you moved gracefully across the stage, gently guiding the kids into their spots with a smile, whispering encouragement to a nervous child—you were a natural at this; even if it was not your job, you still poured your heart into it.

The lights dimmed, and the music began to play. He couldn’t help but smile tenderly and chuckle at Dohyun’s acting and dancing. He was the best and stayed on beat, almost the same as he used to do when he was a child, or that’s what his mom told him. The room was filled with the sound of parents cheering and clapping as cameras flashed to capture the adorable chaos of mismatched choreography.

You could be slightly seen with two other teachers clapping along and mouthing the words to the song as you watched the kids with pride. The moment the performance ended, there was a burst of applause, and Taesan was so into the moment that he even stood up, cheering louder than anyone to make himself noticed to Dohyun, followed by his parents. 

Dohyun bowed dramatically, soaking in the attention like the tiny star he was. The curtain of the theater shut down slowly, and he watched his clock; he had time.

“Mom, can I ask you for permission for something?” His mother looked at him and nodded. “Can you help me next week in making Dohyun fall asleep early?”

“What day? You sound very specific.”

“December 24th.” His mom opened her eyes and gave him full attention.

“On Christmas Eve? You better give me a good reason.” She said, his arms crossing on top of her purse.

“I’m going to take Y/N on a date.” He could see how a happy face was starting to form on her face. 

“Oh my! Finally, I guess she accepted your date.” She said, her hands clapping together, and he just could scratch the back of his head. His mother's face lit down. “You didn’t even ask her, did you?”

“Yeah, I just want to grab the car keys to go to the flower shop, give her flowers to congratulate her on this show, and then ask her out.” His mom watched her watch and quickly analyzed a pamphlet about the show schedule that she was handed before it began.

“You have thirty minutes before Dohyun’s second act. Go, now.” Taesan kissed his mom's cheek and grabbed the car keys, walking outside the theater before running to the parking lot. Since he already gave her a bouquet of her favorite flowers, he will do it again but with her second favorite, and it will be something equally thoughtful but not repetitive. He drove quickly to the flower shop he had frequented since realizing his feelings for you, one that was near the school and was owned by one of his parents' friends.

“Another bouquet for the teacher?” Sungho teased, arranging the blooms when he saw his friend coming in.

“Her second favorite this time,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. Sungho picked out the flower after he gave him the name, and before he focused on decorating the present, he extended a white card.

“Write her something; you will not always give her only the flowers, do you?” Taesan quickly grabbed a pen from the counter and thought about it, writing almost immediately.

By the time he returned to the theater, his hands held a beautifully arranged bouquet of white lilies and soft pink carnations, neatly tied with a silver ribbon. Before he went inside backstage again, he looked around to see if there was anybody there, but knowing that in ten minutes it would start, Dohyun’s second act, they were rehearsing downstairs.

He spotted you near the dressing rooms, helping one of the kids adjust their Santa hat. He gathered every ounce of courage he had to approach you with the bouquet in hand. Not realizing there was a chair and hitting his leg with it, making some noise in the theater and catching your attention.

“Oh God, Taesan! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He stammered, rubbing his shin awkwardly and clutching the bouquet tightly in his other hand. “I, uh, didn’t see the chair there.”

“You have a talent for finding things to trip over, don’t you?”

“Guess it’s a skill,” he joked, his ears burning and looking at the flowers, extending his arms to you. “These are for you. I probably won’t see you after the show since I promised Dohyun to go to Lotte World as soon as this finishes. The show so far has been amazing; you did amazing. Congratulations.”

Your eyes widened as you took the bouquet, the thoughtful arrangement making you smile and the fragrance of the flowers shutting your eyes. “This is so sweet, Dongmin. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he was quick on his feet saying that, relaxing at that moment as he watched you admiring the flowers. “Also, what are you doing on December 24th?”

“Honestly, since both of my parents are on that trip and my sister is with her family, I was just thinking of binge-watching the Harry Potter saga and ordering food.” You said, and it was like a December miracle for Taesan. “Why the question?”

He inhaled deeply and tried to maintain his composure. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you out for dinner on Christmas Eve.”

Your pretty eyes went straight up to him, big and round in surprise and slowly melting into a softer look. “Like a date?”

“Yeah. But it’s okay if you don’t want it; probably me asking that question makes you feel weird. I’m so sorry; you can act like nothing—”

“I would love to go on a date with you.” You interrupted him, and that’s when he paid close attention to you; your cheeks were flushed, and an unusual shy smile was on your face. A pretty view for him.

Taesan just stood there, blinking a few times, processing your answer as his heart leaped at your words. “Wait. You would?” His question was practically whispered in order to not fool himself.

“Yes. I have Christmas activities with my sister’s family in the afternoon of the 25th, and I’d really like to spend my Christmas Eve with you.”

Taesan’s early awkwardness was a fast exchange for pure joy, a smile on his face exteriorizing what he was feeling at that moment. “Okay, great! I will text you what you have to wear and the time. I’ll pick you up.”

The sound of the bells announcing that the act will start in less than two minutes made you both flinch a little, popping the bubble you two created. You started stepping back, tripping with a table on the way and laughing because of your nerves. At least he was not tripping this time.

“Sounds amazing! I mean… yeah. I’ll be in touch with you.” you said, your voice trailing off and an embarrassed look on your face. “I got to go to place the kids. See you on the 24th!” 

This time you ran to the dressing rooms, noticing how you held the flowers so carefully it might fall. When he saw that nobody was around, he couldn’t help but jump in joy because he did; he got out of his comfort zone and decided to give himself another chance to love. He ran back to his place with his parents; his mother didn’t even let him sit.

“Did she say ‘yes’?” Taesan looked at his mom, the smile still on his face, giving her mom a nod; she slapped him on the shoulder in happiness. 

Taesan sat watching the curtain being opened again, paying close attention to his son but already feeling completely excited a week in advance.

Taesan checked himself in the full-length mirror located in the living room. Dohyun was deep in sleep after reading him a fairytale with his parents. The clock was pointing to 7 pm, and it was about time to pick up Y/N from her place; he sighed in a way to calm his nerves out.

“You look really handsome, son.” His mother's voice made him look at her through the mirror, giving her a side smile. She came next to him and moved him so both could be face to face. She fixed his son's tie and the collar of the long coat he was wearing to protect himself from the cold. “Why are you nervous?”

“I haven’t had a date in like six years.”

“It's because you were healing, son. Losing someone as precious as Dohyun’s mom was, it takes time to close that wound. But I’m proud that you’re ready to open your heart again.”

For the first time in a long time, his mom cupped his face; her eyes were watery, trying to keep her tears from falling. “Y/N is a wonderful young girl, and if Dohyun adores her, then you can bet she’s special.”

“Thanks, Mom, that means a lot.” He squeezed her hands on her face and gave her a kiss. 

“Go get her son.” She gave one last encouraging word, and she extended a small present that he bought for the girl. He grabbed the car keys, saying goodbye on the way out. 

The car ride to your house, he had to put on some music, distracting himself and only making a small stop at the flower shop once again, Sungho was already outside with another bouquet, this time with red roses and winter greenery, tied together with a pretty green ribbon resting on the passenger seat.

He shut down the car in front of your house, taking a deep breath before stepping out with the flowers. He knocked on your door with his heart beating faster.

“Coming down!” He started to look around; the streets were decorated, and the lights were as colorful as they could be. He listened to your heels and paid attention to the door being open, his mouth opened a little, taken aback by you.

You were dressed in a long, deep emerald green dress; a long coat was also draped over your shoulders, and your hairstyle framed your face like a picture he won’t forget. 

“Wow…” he couldn’t help but say that out loud, making your cheeks flush to the compliment. “You look breathtaking; I have no words.” 

Your smile widened at his sincere reaction as you stepped out onto the porch. “Thank you, Taesan. You look perfect; I love it.”

He held out the bouquet of roses with his signature shy smile. “These are for you.”

You took the flowers, smelling the sweet fragrance that made you calm your own nerves. “They’re perfect. Let me put these in water before we go.” You disappeared into the house briefly, leaving him to exhale deeply as he watched your figure respectfully from behind.

When you returned, he offered you his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we?”

You chuckled, slipping your arm through his. “We shall.”

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence at first, the soft hum of holiday jazz playing in the background. Occasionally, you couldn’t help but glance at him, the way his fingers tapped the steering wheel in rhythm with the music, his focused view on the road, and even his focused pouts that made you smile without him noticing it.

He caught you looking once and shot you a quick, boyish grin that made your stomach flutter.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going, or is it a surprise?” you asked.

“A little bit of both. Actually, we just arrived.” He pulled into the parking lot of a cozy, upscale restaurant adorned with twinkling fairy lights and garlands. The festive ambiance spilling out onto the snowy street caught your eye the moment you stepped out of the car when he opened the door for you.

“Taesan, this looks amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so. I wanted tonight to feel special for the both of us.” He paused a second before he showed the palm of his hand. “May I?”

You didn’t hesitate on putting your hand, interwining your fingers, “Yes, Dongmin.” 

Inside, the restaurant was even more magical. There were candles flickering on every table, a live jazz band in the corner giving amazing ambiance, and the waiter already pointing at your table. Taesan opened the chair for you, and when you sat, he went directly to his spot. 

Your table was near the fireplace, and you were thankful for that because of the cold weather. Your coats were being taken away, and you looked at him directly in his eyes.

“Be honest: how long have you been planning this?”

You could see his ears turning red, a sheepish smile making your heart skip. “If we speak about me building the courage to ask you on a date, a couple of months. If we talk about the date, it came all together this week.”

“Months?” Your surprise was genuine, and he simply nodded. He didn’t seem to be that shy anymore, a small amount of confidence in his aura. “I had no idea.”

“We were busy, and I wanted it to be perfect,” he admitted, leaning slightly forward, his hands resting on the table.

“Well, so far, it’s perfect. Probably the best Christmas Eve I’ve ever had in all my twenty years.”

His gaze softened with relief. “That’s great to hear.”

“Good evening, I’m Jihoon, your waiter of the night. Here are your menus, and let me know what you would like to eat.” You two gave a small bow and opened the cards. Taesan sneaked a few looks at you when you glanced over the options.

“What would you recommend? You seem to know this place pretty well.” you said, setting your menu down.

He gave a low chuckle. “Their steak is fantastic, but if you’re not a fan of that, the salmon is also great. Or… we could share a couple of appetizers and try different things."

“Look at you, already planning for us to share.” You raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Just an idea,” he shrugged, grinning at you.

After placing your orders and receiving them, the conversations flowed effortlessly. From favorite holiday memories to even sharing facts about you two, Taesan is already doing mental notes for anything in the future.

“I can’t believe you were always selected for the school shows when you were little. No wonder Dohyun dances so well.” You laugh as you drink your glass of wine. Taesan raised his shoulders, feeling proud.

“It’s true,” he said, his new playful side shining. “I was a star back in the day. They couldn't resist my moves. And now Dohyun’s carrying my legacy.”

You laughed again, infecting him in the process. “I’d love to see old videos of that. I bet you were adorable.”

“Oh no, you’d never let me live it down.”

“Probably not,” you teased, swirling your wine glass. “But it’d be worth it.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I’ll think about it. Maybe if this goes well, I might show you.”

You decided to mess with him a little, so you tilted your head, faking curiosity. “‘If this goes well?’ You mean it’s not going well already?”

You saw how he froze for a moment before realizing your teasing tone. “Oh no, it’s going perfectly. I just mean—uh, you know, if you’d want to go out again sometime.”

“I think I’d like that, Taesan.” You let that grin escape from your lips naturally.

The plates were cleared in the middle of the conversation, being changed by a dessert—a shared crème brûlée that Taesan insisted you try first—he watched you with a soft gaze, a gaze that made your heart flutter.

“Want to know something?” You broke the caramelized sugar with your spoon as well as the silence. “I didn’t expect this night to feel so comfortable.”

“Really? How so?” he asked with his brow raising slightly with his curiosity peaking. You extend your spoon with a portion of the dessert in it right in front of him; he looks at you seriously, and you put on your best doe eyes.

Contrary to your belief, he took the spoon and copied your movements before. “I insist, Y/N. Try it first.” His voice was deep and warm. It made you feel a shiver down your spine, and, reluctantly, you took the spoonful of dessert, the creamy sweetness melting on your tongue. 

“Oh my God, wow,” he smirked, satisfied at your reaction.

“Told you. This place never disappoints.” He grabbed another spoon and ate a portion he picked himself. You two were still eating and talking when the waiter came.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it’s already late, and we need to close. Here’s your bill.” Taesan and you looked at each other, wide-eyed in disbelief. You grab your phone from your purse and gasp.

“Taesan, it’s 11 o’clock.” You put your phone back in your purse to grab your wallet but stopped when Taesan gave you a soft look, giving his credit card to the waiter.

“I’ll take you home right after this. No worries,” he said, caressing your hand with his free hand.

“Thank you, but next time, I’m paying,” you crossed your arms playfully.

“Next time? I’ll hold you to that.” The payment was fast, and you saw another waiter holding both of your coats. The female waitress put the coat softly over your shoulders and so did Taesan once he put the card back in his wallet.

The moment you stepped out into the cold night air, the crystal door finally had the “close” sign. As you two walked to the car hand in hand, snowflakes began to fall gently from the sky, settling on your hair and on the coat like they were feathers. “It’s snowing,” you murmured, your breath visible in the cold air.

Taesan glanced up and then back at you, his steps slowing down as he admired you. “It is,” his voice was almost like a whisper, but loud enough for you to hear. “Kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

“It truly is.” When you reached the car, he opened the door for you; his hand brushed yours as you got in, and he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

The drive back to your house was quiet but comfortable, taking your time driving since the streets were not completely full due to the people sleeping or celebrating either in a bar in Itaewon or in their houses. 

When he finally pulled up to your house after a beautiful trip watching the lights, he turned to you, his hand resting on the steering wheel. “We have finally arrived. I had a really great time.”

“Me too, Taesan. It was unforgettable.”

“But before we finish this night, I have one last thing.” Taesan stretches himself to open the glove compartment, revealing a small box wrapped in Christmas-designed paper. He took it and waited for you to react. “It’s 10 minutes till Christmas, but happy holidays, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at the gift in his hands; it had been a long time since you celebrated either the holidays or received something, the reason why your eyes were watering a little. “Taesan, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to. Go on, open it.”

You carefully peeled back the wrapping under his sight, and you actually couldn’t contain your happiness. Inside was a delicate bracelet; the center had a small charm of a sun that shimmered under the light.

“I picked the sun because, it may sound cliché, but you have this light that attracts people and makes everything warmer and brighter with just your presence. just like the sun,” he finished with a soft and genuine smile. His words settle over you like the snowflakes outside.

You blinked, a tear falling as you smiled. “Dongmin, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say you’ll wear it,” he offered with a small smile. His fingers brushed against yours as he gently took the bracelet from the box. “Here, let me.”

His hands were warm despite the chill in the air; they were as warm as your heart. You’ve never felt this loved by somebody aside from your family, and this dinner just confirmed that you had more than just a crush on Dongmin. Once it was secured, he turned your wrist, taking a risk to deposit a kiss on your hand.

“All done.” Your eyes met, and it was like time was running slowly, all to both of your favor to taste the moment. 

“You’ve just created an amazing Christmas Eve.” This time, you cupped his face with your free hand, feeling how his thumb traced imaginary figures on the skin of your hand.

“I’m happy to hear that. Should we call it a night?” he asked softly, though his tone hinted he didn’t really want the evening to end.

“Only if you promise there’ll be more dates.”

His grin was immediate; his confidence shines through his aura. “I promise. Many more.”

“Then, yes. We can call it a night.” You both laughed, the feeling of tenderness in every fiber of your body.

“Let me walk you through the door.” After Taesan said that, he stepped out of the car before you could even protest, quickly rounded the vehicle, and opened your door, offering his hand to help you out.

As you reached the small porch, you took out your phone, watching exactly that there was one minute till Christmas, and you smiled. You stopped your steps, and Taesan did the same, looking at you with tenderness.

“Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head in an adorable manner.

“Yes, I’m just waiting for the midnight fireworks.” You pointed to the sky; the moon shined brightly, and you could see how he was focused on seeing the moment. “Taesan?”

“Yes?” His gaze went back to yours; his hair had some snowflakes that made him look adorable.

“I want to give you something; just close your eyes.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t hesitate to do it. Your gaze went back to the phone, then seconds.

You put your things carefully beside you on the floor, your eyes on his pretty pink lips, before closing your eyes and putting your lips on top of his. The fireworks decided to join as background noise and the cheer of some people in the street who were watching the show. But that truly didn’t matter.

The world seemed to pause in the warmth of the kiss. Taesan froze for a moment, startled, but quickly melted into the moment. His hand cupped your cheek gently as the other one snaked to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He wanted to cuss when you finally pulled back, breathless and cheeks flushed, your eyes found him staring at you with wide eyes with his lips parted slightly in surprise. “That’s… quite the Christmas gift.”

Taesan’s eyes caught something above your head and gave a soft laugh, pointing at the object. “You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?”

“In my defense, my sister decorated the entrance. But I’m grateful for it.” You both were now staring at the mistletoe.

“That makes two of us,” Taesan replied softly. his hand now holding both of your hands. You took his hands and kissed them before taking all your stuff from the ground, taking the key of the house, and opening it. You stayed in the door frame with a silly smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Dongmin.” You spoke, and he did a small bow to you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said. He started to walk away, and you closed the door. You left your stuff on the table beside the entrance as your back was resting on the door, your heart beating like crazy. A few seconds pass, and you get startled by a knock on the door.

You opened fully when you saw Taesan again.

“Is there something—” His lips crashed with yours, his hands on your waist with confidence, and your hands simply traveled to the back of his head. He lifted you from the ground without breaking the kiss, spinning in the same spot, smiling in the middle of the kiss.

When Taesan finally set you down, both of you were breathless with your foreheads resting against each other, shy and giddy smiles on your faces.

“I couldn’t leave without doing that,” he confessed, his thumbs gently brushing your sides and your hands on his shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

“And I couldn’t let you go without telling you why this date was so comfortable to me,” you sighed, feeling your heart rising as the nerves came back to you. “I really like you, Dongmin, and I would love to be your new chance to love again. I don’t care that you’re a single dad; I don’t care if you made mistakes in the past; what I care about right now is if you feel the same way as I do.”

With each word you said, you saw how his gaze got softer. “You’ve no idea how long I've been trying to find the right moment to say it, but I’m going to say the truth. I’ve been a little scared of what it could mean and of what might come next. But you turned my life upside down with just a smile and gave me the courage to finally do it.”

His hands grabbed yours, the tension beginning to ease away as your feelings were reciprocated. “I’m all in if you let me, Y/N. I’m ready to try and make you fall in love each day.”

“Dongmin, I’m already in love.” His hands slid from your hands to hold your face the second you said that, initiating a softer and slower kiss. You both could feel all the positive emotions in your bodies. Even more joy.

“God, I’m glad I didn’t leave,” Taesan whispered, making you chuckle, your heart swelling with warmth.

“I’m glad you stayed.” His smile was all you needed to confirm that this was right, that love had found its way to both of you in a way neither of you expected, yet both had been yearning for.

─── IT BEGAN TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS! and this present is for all my people in @onedoornet thank you for this amazing year and let's keep growing this community. forever grateful with @gluion for letting me in ❅

[planetdream]

striped carnations.

characters. hwang hyunjin, reader, lee minho + special guests

genre. angst, flower shop!au. words. 5.6k

synopsis. upon hearing the news that your boyfriend is going to propose to you, hyunjin realizes that he's had feelings for you all along

fic contents: hyunjin is both a chronic overthinker and a hopeless romantic. needless pining. angst. heartbreak. talks of marriage and relationships. suggestive content: hookups; heavy make out + implied drunk sex.

💌 if you think you've seen this before, it's because you have! I deleted it like a month ago lmao....but here it is again <3

Hwang Hyunjin has always been a big fan of flowers. A flower can describe the emotions behind every pivotal moment in one’s lifetime—a wedding, a funeral, graduation, or a life-changing event—though not limited to only those situations; Hyunjin's love for, and belief in flowers reaches across all occasions and sentiments. His admiration of flowers as a whole goes beyond the smell, or how visually pleasing and/or vibrant in color they look. Flowers allow him to express feelings that he feels words simply cannot—even if no one else around him understands it in the way he does. Hyunjin loves flowers because of the stories you can tell with them, and thus, he chooses to document his life with flowers. 

As a small child, Hyunjin would pick flowers at the park for his mother; or one of his various personal art projects. A bundle of flowers bunched up in his tiny little hands as he ran to his mother with the widest, dimpled grin he could make. To his mother, the flowers are a sweet sentiment of his admiration towards the woman raising him. However, to Hyunjin they meant so much more than that—a physical manifestation of a deep awareness that he couldn’t find the words to explain until he matured as a person. This habit of gifting flowers out of pure emotion was probably the one constant in his life other than the crushing weight of heartbreak. 

Heartbreak is much like flowers. It has so many different colors and feels, it takes on a multitude of shapes and smells—and it is pretty easy to romanticize. 

When Hyunjin was in kindergarten, he gifted a daisy to a girl he had a small crush on. She ended up stomping on them, but that didn’t stop little Hyunjin from pining after her. The tradition of Hyunjin picking flowers as a romantic gesture continued in a slightly different way as he got older, and the helpless pining after something unattainable never stopped. Coincidentally, a few of his exes are named after flowers—the unfortunate downside of that is that it still pains him to look at whatever flower the ex had been named after, even if they ended the relationship on good terms. 

These are some moments and beliefs that have shaped Hyunjin—and his future. 

In the second to last year of his high school career, Hyunjin began working at a flower shop close to his childhood home. Morning Glory Floral—located between a convenience store and a bookstore (both of which are frequented by Hyunjin)—is a tiny little flower shop that Hyunjin knows like the back of his hand. He’d originally started out as a cashier and order taker until he eventually worked his way up to being one of three floral designers at the shop. 

He typically runs the shop most days of the week, opening in the early morning and closing in the late afternoon unless he happens to work Thursday, Friday, or Saturday—on those days the store is open until 7PM. Hyunjin usually arrives an hour, or sometimes two, before the shop opens just to get a headstart on things. He prints out invoices, splitting the orders between their type—local, domestic/international; additionally divided between funeral, wedding, and those non-applicable—as well as making sure pre-made flower arrangements are ready for pickup. The shop is fairly busy on a normal day (although that typically comes down to season), therefore, a lot of Hyunjin’s time during the day is making sure things are running smoothly and without delay. 

Floral design is an art. One of the many forms of art and creative expression that Hyunjin excels within. In his mind, floral design can easily be compared to architecture or interior design (both Hyunjin contemplated as career options). The vase is the foundation—who or what is this flower arrangement for? What color helps express the emotions behind the arrangement? Then—what flowers should be used (if the customer doesn’t have a request)? What should be the focal flower that grabs people's attention? Do the flowers chosen represent the overall message? Which filler flowers and greenery should be used? The shape of the arrangement matters too. As do a lot of other minuscule details. 

The details are important to him. Making sure the customer is satisfied with his creation is easy, hardly anything to worry about, but making sure that he’s satisfied with the work he’s done is an entirely different thing. A simple glance at Hyunjin creating a flower arrangement and it doesn’t seem like it takes too much time or energy. He moves in fluid movements, placing one flower after the other, a blank expression on his face. In reality, it’s a time-consuming process and it takes a lot of thought and precision to create the arrangements he does. Still, his hard work pays off greatly. He didn’t know he’d be where he is today, but he’s great at what he does—which is why people always come back. 

His favorite floral arrangements to make are the ones that have to do with romantic love—a date, wedding, or anniversary—since Hyunjin feels it gives him a lot more freedom for creative expression. Like floral design, love is of significant importance to Hyunjin, especially romantic love. Seeing people express their love and admiration for each other via flowers is beautiful to him, as he is a hopeless romantic after all. 

A small order of carnations arrived at the shop one morning. Unmarked and not on any receipt nor written in any book. Carnations are typically cut flowers (as in, used for decorative purposes), so consequently, it’s not unlikely for the shop to have extra, especially since Felix, one of the other floral designers, loves to use them for arrangements. The flowers catch Hyunjin’s eye in particular, not only because they’re striped carnations, but because there are three of them, obviously not enough to do much with unless for a small arrangement. 

Felix, as full of knowledge as he is, once explained to Hyunjin that during the Victorian era, carnations were used to speak very straightforwardly. Unlike other flowers that have many different, complicated, and often overlapping meanings, carnations could be used to respond to something—like a love proposal. If one was asking another for their hand in marriage, the recipient of the proposal may respond with a yes by giving the proposer a solid color carnation, such as pink, white, or even red; however, the yellow carnations mean no. Striped carnations generally mean a refusal of love, almost regrettably so. I love you, but I cannot be with you. A message that Hyunjin is more than familiar with. 

Perhaps it’s an omen. A sign that he’s going to fall headfirst into another relationship resulting in yet another heartbreak. A sign that if he falls for someone again, he may not get back up this time. Hyunjin often wonders if fate is real—he knows it is, he can feel that it's real—but has he been fated to fall in love over and over again just to reach the same emotionally catastrophic end that he always does? Maybe he did something in a past life that would warrant this anguish.

He shakes the thought from his mind, for the time being, choosing instead to blissfully and ignorantly fall victim to his subconscious. He won’t admit it out loud, and when the thought arises, he pushes it out of his mind in embarrassment, but Hyunjin loves the feeling of heartbreak. It stings. In both the worst way and the best way. And while he genuinely does hate heartbreak, it’s almost like he’s addicted to it. 

And then the bell of the door rings, signaling to Hyunjin that there’s a new customer. He looks up from behind the counter and his eyes meet Lee Minho, your boyfriend. 

You and Hyunjin had met in the fourth grade. It can only be described now, all of these years later, as an instantaneous click. You both felt comfortable with each other and eventually opted to do everything together, very soon becoming the best of friends. From grade school to adulthood, you’ve kept a secure friendship. Confiding in each other about everything—when one of you is low, the other is sure to pick them up. 

There’s a sheepish smile on Minho’s face as he approaches the counter. The expression takes Hyunjin aback. The smile is surprising because Hyunjin swears that the older man typically has a permanent scowl on his face. Hyunjin greets him, giving a small smile and a wave. 

“Need flowers for a date?” Hyunjin asks, fixing his standing posture. 

“For something better actually,” Minho’s smile grows wider, as if he cannot contain it. Hyunjin thinks this might be the biggest smile he’s ever seen across Minho’s face. Minho places his hands onto the cold surface of the counter, lightly tapping in it. “I’m proposing this weekend.”

Hyunjin’s jaw drops in awe. Never had he thought Minho was a man interested in marriage. Not only that, this means he’d be losing his best friend to married life. Next thing he knows, you’ll start having kids! His mind begins to race around, unforgiving. 

When Hyunjin the two of you were younger, you and Hyunjin would talk about your hopes and aspirations for the future. Of course, the topic of marriage and creating a family entered the conversation. You expressed that when you truly love someone, there’s no need to get the law involved for a piece of paper. Hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh, he felt that your reasoning was a bit childish, joyous of true, deep love. However, when you told him that though, it put a couple of things into perspective—most significantly, how you and Hyunjin are opposites. Hyunjin aches to get married and wants a few children too, he thinks the idea is beautiful. Still, for Hyunjin, the possibility of him actually getting married feels too far-fetched; unimaginable, and unattainable. Would anyone love him enough to want to marry him?

Minho breaks Hyunjin away from the depth of his mind. “I was thinking of a nice bouquet to give them, and you’re my guy for that.” 

Hyunjin exhales as he looks at Minho. He can’t even crack a small smile. He feels he should be happy—but something within him feels wrong. Someone dear to his heart is getting married and he can’t even pretend to be excited. He should be happy for you. He knows he should be happy for you; but he cannot find happiness within himself at all at this moment. 

Hyunjin and Minho aren’t exactly friends. Had it not been for you, they doubt they would have even crossed paths. It’s not that Hyunjin doesn’t like Minho, he’s a cool, upstanding guy; but is he worth being your boyfriend? Let alone, is he worth being your husband? In Hyunjin’s perspective, absolutely not. Sure, from the things you tell him, Minho treats you with love, care, and the utmost respect, but Hyunjin thinks there’s something…off about him, even after four years of you and Minho being together. From Minho’s perspective, it’s obvious that Hyunjin has a crush on you. He’s teased you about it multiple times, but to you it seems highly unlikely that your best friend since practically forever would be in love with you—but it happens. 

“Here, I’ll show you the ring.” Minho fishes into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a black velvet box. He opens the box, places it on the counter, and turns it to Hyunjin. 

The ring is gorgeous. Hyunjin can tell it’s been updated and has had a few repairs, probably a ring kept within the family. He knows this because after looking at so many rings, both through work and in his own free time (self-admittedly pathetic of him to just go looking for engagement rings and wedding bands while he’s desperately single), he’s starting to notice the small differences. 

“Wow.” Is the only thing that leaves Hyunjin’s mouth. 

Minho continues to talk, but it all goes in one ear and out of the other. Hyunjin is lost within his head. One thought after another, layering and locking himself within his own mind. Hyunjin remains on auto-pilot for the rest of his conversation with Minho. Towards the end of it, Hyunjin fishes out the most pathetic fake smile he possibly could. Hyunjin, per usual, promises to do his best at making the best floral arrangement he possibly can. Before he leaves, Minho says something to Hyunjin that sticks with him for the rest of his day. 

“They’ve always liked your arrangements, so just do what you do best. I trust you.”

The carnations are back. Another three. 

Coincidentally, they arrived on the same day that Hyunjin has to create the floral arrangement for Minho’s proposal. Hyunjin can’t lie, while this project was constantly on his mind; subconsciously putting all the pieces together one by one—he absolutely put the entire thing off until the last minute. Hyunjin has never once dreaded coming into work until now. Just the thought of working on the arrangement makes him sick to his stomach. But now there’s no more time left. 

Everything that Hyunjin needs for the making of the arrangement is spread out right in front of him. 

He chooses a white vase as the foundation—white, along with being a symbol of purity or innocence, is also a symbol of new beginnings and marriage, the latter representing what the arrangement means as a whole—sleek and rounded in an hourglass shape. Usually, for engagement bouquets, Hyunjin uses a clear vase to ensure that the flowers stay healthy and alive (of course while being taken care of). However, neither you nor Minho are any good when it comes to taking care of flowers, so Hyunjin figures he can do whatever he wants when it comes to his creation.

The foliage comes first—Hyunjin preps the stems, pulling off the lower leaves that might hang in the water, clipping the ends off the stems before they dive into the water. Floral arranging is not only art, it’s a science. The plants have to be inserted into the vase at an angle so that the arrangement can take shape. The arrangement needs to be balanced and colorful, preferably. Vase arrangements require layering, it’s easier to start with the heavier flowers first; two red chrysanthemums on opposing sides. He cuts the stems so that the flowers hang low in the vase, almost acting as a focal point if not for his statement flowers. 

As a standard for his arrangements and bouquets, Hyunjin chooses flowers that signify love and new beginnings. He also needs to make sure that the flowers he chose actually look nice in the bouquet, as if not, he feels the need to completely start over.

As he works on his creation, Hyunjin allows himself to get lost within his thoughts. Everytime someone comes into the shop, a smile on their face as they’re picking out flowers for their lover; Hyunjin feels something within him break, just a tiny crack at the surface of his identity. For a brief moment, with his work, he’s allowed to peak into the lives—the relationships—of others. Everything from the great moments of excitement to the bad moments that hope and pray to be forgiven. All of it sends Hyunjin spiraling into the depths of his memory. 

He remembers his high school years. Going back to classes after the summer he hit a growth spurt. His voice got a bit deeper, too. Suddenly, all eyes were on him. Hyunjin was desirable. Shy as he was, he enjoyed it. And after a few experiences, he’d seemingly gotten over his timid behavior, though still introverted. It was a strange time. He remembers falling deep into infatuation only for things to not pan out. Before the situationship begins, the sharp sting of heartbreak lingers. 

Just a few months back, Hyunjin got his heart broken yet again when his now ex-girlfriend left him to get back with her ex; some total loser named Changbin, of whom she had been originally dating sometime before Hyunjin. It’s not you, it’s me, she said. I just don’t feel the same as you, she said. Maybe we’ll meet later in life, or in the next, she said. He knew she didn’t mean it. That she was just feeding into his past-life and karmic romantic ideologies to lessen the blow. Within that same week (at minimum, three days later), he sees a mutual friend post a picture from a double date including said ex and her boyfriend. 

It stung. Badly. And he’s over it now. In fact, he’s so over it that he can hardly remember her name. Sooyun? Miyeong? See? He can’t remember it. It wasn’t the worst breakup that Hyunjin has experienced. Not by a mile. The worst actually was a couple of years ago, his longest relationship which lasted a year exactly, getting betrayed on the one-year anniversary of their one-sided love. The memory still stings, so Hyunjin prefers not to talk about it—but once it comes time for self-reflection, he thinks of the memories in awe—sickly attached to the distant memory of something that failed to work out. What if? He thinks. 

But three months (yeah, his most recent relationship was only three months; yes, he’s still a bit broken) with someone—constantly talking to them, getting acquainted with their lifestyle, seeing them often, kissing them, feeling them—changes a person; for better or for worse. So, Hyunjin is lucky he got out of it with only hurt feelings. A faint tug at his heart and, understandably, anger surrounding the situation, if anything. Nothing unmanageable that he can’t work or date away. 

Past relationships have driven him into a slump. Depressed and unable to create or live, even, until he finds himself somewhere within the next person—both metaphorically and actually—when he’s really at his worst; the ‘best’ thing to do is to relieve his stress by burying himself inside of someone in an effort to escape intense personal feelings. This occasionally backfires whenever he catches feelings for whoever he fucks and the cycle repeats itself. Over and Over. An unfortunate life lesson that Hyunjin has to continue repeating: spiritually, possibly due to the sins made in a past life; but actually, because he rarely ever learns from past mistakes, especially if it has to do with romance. 

Hyunjin, is, quite simply, a hopeless romantic in every sense of the term, but at a specific level of naivety. Aching to see the good in people or a situation even if it has near-disastrous results to his psyche. Before even speaking to someone, he’d have already envisioned their first few dates, their marriage, and growing old together. It embarrasses him badly. And no matter how many times he has to sit down with himself, reminding himself to calm down, that he should take things slowly, he’s already experiencing heartbreak. 

He’s tried the dating scene multiple times since this most recent breakup. A few dates here and there, and more than a few hook-ups as well (What can he say? He’s a single man). He was mostly encouraged by other friends, and you, to reopen his Tinder account and get back out there. And Hyunjin, easily influenced, did just that. It didn’t last long though, simply due to the fact that he found himself bored almost immediately after each date or hookup. He’s simply wandering through life, boldly yet blindly, without inspiration. 

Then he feels that spark. It’s just as he’s putting the finishing touches on his creation. 

That very familiar, almost sickening spark deep within his soul that he found himself craving after going so long without. Feelings. Of the romantic variety. For you. He can say that he initially realized them during a party hosted by a friend of a friend. You were surrounded by some of your close friends, drinking, and smiling all pretty as you do; and that’s when it started. It was like the universe expanded in a way that could be physically felt—similar to that of an out of body experience—an intensity that feels so right. He could damn near feel the temperature changing in the room due to some kind of universal shift. The vibrations of the music gets heavier, and the chatter of people blurs together—time slows down but is going all too fast. 

But perhaps he’s had these feelings for you for a while now. Maybe since you first met as children. Hiding them deep within himself. Covering up his feelings by searching for you through countless other people. Perhaps it is why many of his relationships never work out. 

It has to be fate calling out to him. Hyunjin clings to this thought and the feeling that it gives him.

Hyunjin questions himself like he does every time he realizes that he has feelings for someone. What do I like about them? He ponders it. Though it doesn’t take long for him to figure it out. Everything. He likes everything about you. From the way you type on your phone to how you order food at restaurants. He loves how concentrated you get when reading something and he likes how you walk a little weirdly. He likes your opinions and the way you see the world. Those small, specific things that make you who you are, are what Hyunjin loves. You as a person, inside and out. The good and the bad. All desirable and undesirable things. 

This is bad. Really bad. The realization feels bad. 

Hyunjin has had feelings for tons of his friends before. He never tells them, but if he does—because hey, life is short—then it never goes past a -with-benefits label. His friends mean a lot to him, and while a romance could strengthen a relationship, it could also weaken one. Some people are meant to stay friends. Perhaps that could change between you two. But it cannot. Hyunjin remembers one little fact: you are in a committed relationship. Of four years. With Lee Minho of all people. 

What does Lee Minho have that Hyunjin doesn’t? He’s just as pretty. Just as charming. And he’s a few centimeters taller. Plus, he’s known you longer than Minho has. If anything happens, you’d certainly pick Hyunjin, right? But Minho wants to marry you and Hyunjin doubts himself as being ready for that type of commitment even though he craves it desperately. 

By the time that Hyunjin has finally finished the final pieces of the floral arrangement and sneaks away from his thoughts, Minho saulters into the store. Speak of the devil. 

He’s smiling just as wide as he had days ago. Tonight is the night that he proposes, Minho informs Hyunjin. To which, Hyunjin congratulates Minho—but he hopes that you say no. He prays that you say no and, just to add insult to injury, you laugh in Minho’s face, despite how crude it’d be. In the pit of his stomach, though, he knows that you’ll say yes to Minho.

Minho leaves with the flowers after a few minutes of chatter; but not before he pays and leaves quite a hefty tip. 

The rest of Hyunjin’s day goes by dryly. A permanent pout rests on his face, as noticed by his coworkers. He’ll just shyly smile so as to not cause any worry. Hyunjin remains on autopilot. Smiling, talking to his regulars and answering the questions he might receive throughout the day. For the most part, though, he retreats to the dark and cozy area of his mind. 

—

He decides to take a refreshing walk back home. It’s only about a fifteen minute walk, and he does it often. More time to think. His headphones are tight against his ears, but not uncomfortable. Hyunjin initially chooses to blast a soft, slow tempoed song before he switches to something more heavy and aggravated. 

The music is cut and a millisecond later, his phone rings. It’s you. Oh, god. You’re going to rub your relationship in his face. 

When Hyunjin answers it, there’s an, albeit fake, smile on his face as if you could see him, and he begins to speak in a typical cheery tone. He’s cut off by a sob. He can’t understand a thing you’re saying and he panics. He stops in his tracks, hand curling to grasp at air in a panic. His eyes widen while he searches for any thought in his brain to console you. 

“Are you home? I’ll be on my way, okay?” He informs you, voice filled with worry. “We can stay on the line until I get there.”

And he stays on the phone with you until he reaches his home; and then the entire fifteen-block walk to your place. Avoiding the eyes of those who wonder whether he might be talking to himself. He hurries, speed walking the entire way—and almost sprinting at one point when your sobs had suddenly gotten worse—in order to reach your apartment in less time than it would usually take. 

He’s buzzed into your building and within a few seconds he’s at the door of your apartment. He doesn’t need to knock, as you open it immediately. Tears are staining your cheeks and you walk up to hug Hyunjin, not bothering to welcome him into your home. 

Now, everything is seemingly on pause, and Hyunjin is comforting you through your own heartbreak. Once again, time is both slowed down and sped up—he’s present but still lost in his head somewhere. Still, he waddles the both of you into your apartment, and kicks the door closed with his foot. 

He notices the flower arrangement he’d made just hours prior, sitting untouched on the kitchen counter. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Hyunjin questions. Dealing with those emotions, especially right after they surface, is difficult, and the last thing Hyunjin wants to do is push you into speaking about it—he knows the fresh wounds of a heartbreak all too well. So, he remains by your side, patient, and comforting until—if—you decide to speak. 

The two of you begin rocking side to side slowly. It’s soothing, and you’re able to speak just quietly. 

“Well, he proposed,” His stomach turns, tightening to the point where he becomes nauseous for a moment. Hyunjin even nearly rolls his eyes, but the thing that relieves him is the reason he’s here—obviously you turned Minho down. That, or Minho dropped dead; but that’s not as likely. Yet, the thing that nearly makes Hyunjin sicker is how much he hates that he’s happy that you declined the proposal. 

“And I declined. I-I said I wasn’t ready for marriage yet. Told him I wish we had discussed it a bit more before he did anything so we’d be on the same page. B-but I begged for us to stay together and he said… he said he couldn’t do it.” 

You bury your head in Hyunjin’s chest, weeping a bit more. 

“I know it hurts,” His words get lost in his mind somewhere, feeling as though he isn’t adequate enough to comfort you. 

“It hurts so bad.” You grab his hoodie with your fist tightly, twisting and tugging at it. 

“Let’s just cry it out. That always helps me.” He suggests, hand running up and down your back. 

“Cry with me? Like that scene in Midsommar?” You laugh through your sobs despite the hurt you’re in. Not that it matters to Hyunjin, of course. You can feel him laugh and, fortunately, it makes you smile. 

“Only if you want me to.” He unknowingly returns the smile. You don’t respond, but you ponder it—even as just a joke. 

The room falls silent but the silence is comfortable. That’s what you love about being around Hyunjin. You intrigue him, and while he always wants to know what’s going on in your mind, he never pressures you to speak. Sometimes, we learn more about ourselves—and to an extent, other people—through silence. 

The hug breaks. You fail to meet Hyunjin’s eyes. You walk off to sit in the living room and Hyunjin goes to get water for the both of you. He sets the glasses of water down and takes a seat next to you. 

“Where is he?” Hyunjin asks. His palms are sweaty, so he wipes them onto his jeans.

Your frown somehow deepens before you speak. “Went to stay with his parents.”

Silence. Hyunjin can tell that you’re lost in thought. He feels a bit odd. Individually, you both have gone through a significant amount of breakups; but each one is different from the last. It’s been so long since you’ve had your heart broken. To see you like this after so long—eyes red and puffy with a tear stained face, bottom lip quivering as you try to console yourself—it breaks Hyunjin. He does what you would do for him. 

“What will help take your mind away?” His voice is soft, barely above a whisper. 

You ponder for a moment. “Remember back in February when you and Miyeong broke up? The sleepover we had while Minho was away? We stayed up all night eating snacks and watching romance movies,” 

He nods. Despite being deeply hurt to the point he got sick, the latter part of that week was one of the most enjoyable times that he’d had in forever. The two of you ate, drank, cried, and watched cheesy romantic movies (to which Hyunjin cried more). Through the stuffy fog that is heartbreak, Hyunjin was reminded that, sometimes, life isn’t so bad. 

“What if we did that again for a couple of days?”

Hyunjin ponders it, considers it, but… “We both have work.” He pouts.

“Not tomorrow, though. I just don’t want to be alone right now,” You need him. A crutch. A support system. And you know he’ll never let you down. “Plus, you act like you haven’t stayed over for long periods of time before! Remember the time that Jisung refused to shower out of spite so you slept over here?”

Hyunjin lets out a short chuckle. He knows that when he goes back to his apartment, it’ll be left a mess. But for you, he doesn’t mind cleaning up after Jisung. “Fine. But only because I love you and I want you to feel better, loser.”

—

“You just have to find your thing, you know?” Hyunjin takes another shot. Neither of you are sure just how many you’ve both had. 

“Like, you know, my thing is art, and flowers and, you know, expressing myself with them. It’s the one thing I can always come back to and feel good about. Not betrayed, not hurt, or anything. But good. That shop—god—it’s like the one place in this world that’s for me.”

He’s venting now. He shouldn’t be. This is all about you. Tonight is all about you. So he cuts himself short, words still lingering on the tip of his tongue. There’s a momentary silence, eventually broken by you.

“Are you implying that you want to fuck your flower shop?”

“Wha…? No! I’m just saying…I’m trying to help you!” His ears become red.

“Hm. Not sure. Sounds like you’re confessing your love for your job,” Hyunjin looks at you with a face full of temporary disgust. “I’m jooking! Find my thing, something to express myself with, I know, I get it.”

“I’m sorry,” 

“Don’t be.”

Silence once again occupies the room, planting itself comfortably between you and Hyunjin. Hyunjin doesn’t mind the silence. You do, though. 

“You know what’s kinda funny?” 

“Hm?”

“Minho used to mention, from time to time, how he believed you had a crush on me,” You smile. Hyunjin, however, is caught off guard, eyebrows raised with his eyes slightly wide. “I would always laugh it off but part of me kept thinking What If?”

“What if I had been with you instead of Minho. I mean, you wouldn’t propose to me without having a simple fucking conversation, right?” You ramble on. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Sure.” “Two secrets! It’s actually two secrets!”

“One,” You tilt your head to smile at Hyunjin. “I had the biggest crush on you for years. But I was so hurt because you kept going after literally every fucking body else. Wish you had paid attention to me.”

“And Two!” You continue, not as sad. Ignoring the previous sentences that came from your mouth. “I wish I could kiss you right now. Would you let me?”

He can’t believe the words that come out of your mouth. For a moment, Hyunjin feels ill. He’d somehow missed the signs. You wanted him, too. His eyebrows string together in a brief expression of sadness. He shakes it away. Hyunjin nods and leans in, his eyes close and he puckers his lips. Within a second, he feels your lips on his and then your hand on his thigh. 

Sparks. That’s the only way that Hyunjin can describe it. Your mouth is warm, wet and Hyunjin can only melt into you. The two of you melt into each other. Lips mashed together as your tongues slip into each other's mouths, swapping spit. At this point it’s more than kissing. It’s heavy and messy. It’s full of hurt and passion and the feeling of being missed. Or having something missed out on. Uncertainty. Neither of you have come up for air to interrupt the makeout session. Losing yourselves within each other's mouths—lips and tongue, occasional teeth. 

You end up climbing atop of him to straddle. Breaking the kiss to pin Hyunjin to the floor. You stare down at him, searching within his eyes. “Do you want me?”

“So much.” The two words leave Hyunjin’s mouth desperately. He’s in anguish. 

He tries to sit up, to chase your lips but he’s properly pinned. You plant one soft kiss against his lips. You stand, beckoning Hyunjin to follow you to your room; disappearing into the hallway. And Hyunjin does just that; leaving his sober self to pick up the pieces of a drunken, immoral night. 

© PLANETDREAM 2024

[shalomniscient]

hiii i have a request 🥹🥹 if possible, could you write a comfort fic with himeko or kafka and reader? reader who has trouble sleeping or has been exhausted from missions, going straight to himeko's room after returning to the astral express and just melting into her arms. or, reader who hasn't seen kafka in a while and just really misses her, needs her to put her mind at ease, so kafka drops by the express unexpectedly and spends the night taking care of reader. can be either sfw or nsfw, I dont mind either 🥹

omg this is so cute! i’ll do both ;)

SLEEPLESS NIGHTS || hsr x reader

cw. nudity

notes. dunno why i felt the need to mention this but this fic operates on established relationship between reader/character, just fyi :)

HIMEKO

Trailblazing was never going to be easy. You knew this, and you accepted it. To walk the path of Akivili was to lend a helping hand to whosoever needed it. And you do enjoy it—the feeling of making a change in the vast universe, shoulder to shoulder with companions that you would give your life for, and who would do the same for you. You wouldn’t give up your spot on the Astral Express for the world.

But you are only human, at the end of the day.

You’ve been taking back-to-back missions recently, and it’s slowly taking its toll on you. As a more experienced Nameless with many years under your belt, your assistance is slightly more prized over the younger crew—not to say they were incapable. Dan Heng and March alone made a terrifying duo, which was only exacerbated when Stelle joined the mix. But at the end of the day, they’re still a little green and wet behind the ears, so any of the harder jobs tend to fall to you or Welt. And with Welt supervising them on the Luofu, that just left you.

Your footsteps are heavy as you drag yourself back onto the Express. There’s a rip in your jacket from where a Mara-struck soldier tried to slash at you, and several small cuts all over your fingers from the cutting wind of the Disciples. The Luofu had commissioned your blade to quell the number of Mara-struck still roaming around, but for every six you strike down, another dozen seem to take their place.

You sigh as you flop onto one of the many couches on the Express, letting your weapon clatter onto the ground. You’re sore, tired, and aching—all you want to do now is sink into your pillows and sleep, but you have to clean up first. You shut your eyes with another weary noise, deciding to rest up a little before heading to your cabin. Or, shared cabin, rather.

A gentle tap on your shoulder stirs you from your brief rest. You crack your eyes open, and are met with a gentle, golden gaze—it’s Himeko. She’s foregone her usual attire, instead dressed in simple nightwear now, a blanket around her shoulders.

“Hey,” you rasp out. “Were you about to go to bed?”

She shakes her head, smiling softly. “No, I was waiting for you.”

“Ah. Sorry, I must’ve kept you up for a while then.”

“It’s alright,” Himeko says, picking up your weapon off the ground, and placing it inside one of the secure compartments beneath the seats. “I was working on some designs, anyway.”

Then she rises back up, and reaches out to cup your face. Her thumb brushes over your cheek, and you lean into the touch. Then she pulls away, and you nearly whine in protest, before she extends the same hand to you. “Come. Let me care of you tonight.”

You take her hand without hesitation, your fingers slotting perfectly in between hers. You let her lead you to your shared cabin, near the back of the train cart. The door slides open with a small hiss, and the scent of warm, freshly brewed coffee fills your lungs. It’s a comforting, distinctly Himeko scent that you feel some of the tension in your shoulders bleed out.

Her fingers work deftly as they undo the buttons of your clothes, and she frowns when she notices the rip in your jacket.

“I got a little sloppy,” you explain weakly, with a tired grin. Himeko rolls her eyes, but folds it neatly and sets it on the edge of the bed, no doubt to be repaired by the next day.

“As long as you’re unharmed,” she murmurs, working on your shirt now. Your hands rest on her hips as she divests you of the rest of your clothes, until you’re in nothing but your underwear. “The bath is ready. I’ll be there soon.”

You nod, and drag your exhausted limbs to the bath. You strip fully, and then sink into the warm, bubbly water, audibly groaning as the heat from the bath seeps into your aching muscles. The small cuts along your hands sting a little, but you know Himeko must’ve mixed in some antiseptic to ensure no infections take root.

Himeko walks in a little later, and takes a seat on the edge of the tub, smiling as she takes in your relaxed appearance. She brushes some hair out of your eyes, then reaches over for the shampoo and conditioner, tucked away in another small, secure compartment. The Express is littered with them, so things can be stored safely and not make a mess of the train during jumps.

You feel like dissolving when Himeko starts to wash your hair, expert fingers massaging your scalp wonderfully. Her hands--hands that fix, hands that mend--travel from the base of your neck up to the back of your skull, then along your temples, before repeating over again. It's incredible, the way she can put you back together so easily. She chuckles when she notes your reaction.

“Enjoying yourself, my dear?”

You can only manage a wordless grunt in response, feeling like you’re in an entirely different plane of existence right now. Time blurs as Himeko washes out the shampoo and works in the conditioner, before washing that out too and leaving your hair thoroughly clean and smelling like fresh roses—the same scent as hers.

You almost don’t want to leave the warmth of the tub, but Himeko coaxes you out anyway. She offers you a towel and a bathrobe, and leaves you to dry yourself off for a while. You wring out your hair, then dress yourself in a comfy pair of silk nightclothes. When you step out of the washroom, Himeko is waiting for you on the bed, her legs already tucked beneath the covers. On her lap is her laptop as she types away, no doubt finishing up on her many engineering designs.

You practically dive into bed, snuggling under the sheets and pressing close to your lover. She’s warm as always, thanks to her Pathstrider ability being of the Fire type. Himeko hums to herself, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as you bury yourself in her side, uncaring for the dampness of your hair. She reaches over to the bedside table, and with a click, switches of the main room lights, leaving only the soft glow of the lamp next to the bed.

You chance a glance up at her, even as drowsiness nips at your heels. The gentle golden glow of the lamp makes her look divine, enhanced by the fiery red of her hair. There is an affection in her eyes you know is reserved only for you as she leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Rest, now,” she says, her words a caress against your skin. “You deserve it, my love.”

“I love you,” you mumble, eyes slipping shut as sleep finally claims you. It’s easy to oblige the request, safe and sound in her arms like this. These moments make you wish that dawn—or the Express’s approximation of a circadian rhythm—would never come, and you could linger in the embrace of your beloved for eternity. The last thing you hear before you drift off is Himeko’s soothing voice, almost lullaby-like, and you can hear her smile.

“I love you too, dearest one.”

KAFKA

For the nth time that night, you wake up to the sight of your bedroom ceiling.

You sigh and twist in your bed, turning to check the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table. It’s 1am in the morning, and you still can’t sleep.

You don’t really know the root of your recent bouts of insomnia. Maybe it was the workload? But Himeko has given you several days off already. Maybe it was the stress of having to manage the younger Astral Express members, but Welt shoulders that burden most of the time. Could it be Pom Pom then? You shake your head at that—the conductor was usually the one stressing, not being the cause of stress.

Then maybe… maybe it’s because you miss her.

Kafka, your secret lover.

You miss the presence of her next to you in your bed, and the steady, powerful beat of her heart under your ear as you rest your head on her chest. Miss the elegant cadence of her breathing and the feel of her hand in yours.

You sigh again. You know she’d laugh if she ever knew about your silly longing. I mean, you volunteered for this infiltration mission; you knew what you were signing up for. But still, it’s funny—you miss that about her too. Her laugh.

You reach for your phone, resting on the bed. During your last… rendezvous with Kafka she had the foresight—or maybe Elio did, who knows—to give you an encrypted number to contact her with.

Only in case of emergencies, doll, she had crooned, as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Use it wisely.

Your finger hovers over the number. Does this even qualify as an emergency? It’s just a few sleepless nights. Kafka probably has more important things to do, executing Elio’s endless number of scripts and whatnot. In the end, you shut off your phone and throw your head back on the pillows, ready to resign yourself to another long night—

—when your phone suddenly buzzes with urgency.

You jerk in surprise, brows furrowing as you pick it back up. Who could be calling at this hour? You squint in the darkness as you read the caller ID, and your heart leaps into your throat.

It’s the emergency number.

You fumble to answer, quickly sitting up and pressing the phone to your ear, making sure to cover your mouth and the reciever. The rest of the Express definitely wouldn’t be able to hear you, but you always feel some sort of lingering paranoia, sneaking around like this with Kafka.

“Hello?”

“Hey, doll,” a familiar, smooth voice says, and your heart flutters. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Kafka,” you breathe out, not bothering to hide the relief in your tone. Kafka chuckles on the other end.

“That’s me,” she hums. “You answered pretty quickly. Were you not sleeping?”

You hesitate for a moment, but decide to come clean. “No. I… haven’t been sleeping well, recently.”

Kafka is silent for a few seconds. “I see,” she says, and something in her voice shifts, imperceptible to the average person. But you aren’t an average person, not to Kafka. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Just a little insomnia. Nothing to worry about." The other end goes quiet, so you decide to change the topic. "Why'd you call? Isn't this for emergencies only? Are you in trouble?"

"You worried?" she chuckles, and you can see her smirk in your mind's eye. "I'm alright, doll. And as for emergencies... well, I missed you. Isn't that an emergency?"

It's such a Kafka-esque answer, but it pulls a breathless little laugh from you all the same. "Ugh, you..."

"Me," she affirms on the other end with a snicker. There is small, comfortable silence between you, before she speaks again. "Listen, doll, I've gotta go. But don't worry your pretty little head--you'll sleep perfectly well tonight. I'll make sure of it."

You blink, confused at her words. But before you can question it, Kafka hangs up the call, leaving you both confused and a little disappointed. Usually she'd say goodbye and throw in those three special words, though not this time, apparently. You wonder what she means as you shut your phone off again, and lie back onto your pillows. You close your eyes, and try to do as she says.

You're not sure how much time passes, but it doesn't work, predictably. You groan in frustration, just about ready to get up when a lithe hand slips over your mouth.

You jerk in surprise, one hand flying reflexively to the knife you keep beneath your pillow, the other gripping your assailant's wrist. You swing the knife in an arc, only for it to be caught and restrained by thin, pink, familiar ropes. They glow ever so slightly, illuminating a familiar face, that has your mouth falling open under the hand.

"Good to see your reflexes haven't dulled," Kafka teases, nimbly prying the knife out of your hands and letting it clatter onto the floor. She then removes the hand over your mouth, and releases your wrist from the strings.

"Kafka," you whisper, your hand moving to cup her cheek, your thumb tracing the ridges of her face, "are you real?"

She leans into your touch, that signature smirk tugging on her painted lips. She's really here, solid and tangible beneath your fingers. "You could consider me a dream, if you'd like."

"How did you even get in here?" you ask, not taking your eyes off her for a moment as she shrugs off her coat and begins undoing the buttons of her shirt. Kafka offers you a smug grin at that, pulling a little device from her pocket.

"Custom-made IPC teleportation beacon," she answers with a wink. "Jailbroken courtesy of Silver Wolf, of course."

You make a mental note to buy Silver Wolf the next battlepass in that game of hers. Kafka sets the device on the bedside table, now dressed in only her undergarments. You swallow as you take in the expanse of her milky skin, firm abdomen and muscled thighs, all while Kafka raids the clothing storage beneath your bed for something to sleep in like she's been on the Express this whole while. She eventually settles for one of your old t-shirts, which drapes over her frame in such a sinfully delectable way that you'd pounce on her if you weren't so damn tired.

"Move over," she orders, pulling her hair out of its usual ponytail, and letting it cascade down her shoulders and back. Kafka has always been beautiful--but like this... you would not have been able to distinguish her from Idrila the Beauty themself. You wonder if that makes you her knight. You shuffle to the side of the bed, and Kafka slips under the sheets next to you. Strong arms wrap around you and hold you close, close enough that you can rest your ear against her chest, and hear the soothing lullaby of her heartbeat. Immediately you start to feel drowsy, and Kafka chuckles.

"You really missed me, didn't you, doll?" she muses, carding her fingers through your hair gently. "I'm here now, my dear. Sleep, alright?"

Your eyes flutter shut almost instantly. It's funny, how she doesn't even have to use her Spirit Whisper on you to get you to obey. Maybe love itself is enough of a whisper to your soul, or maybe you've always been weak for her. But oddly enough, you don't find yourself minding all that much if that's the case. You don't mind much of anything when it comes to her. Though you don't ponder for very long as you snuggle closer against her warmth, your arms winding tight around her waist. She'll be gone by morning, you know that. She has to. But for now, this is enough, secure in this haven that is her embrace, and you let yourself drift off into slumber.

(The next morning, nothing remains of her--you may have truly considered her a dream, were it not for the imprint of her form on your bed, and a tiny note on your bedside table, undoubtedly written in her hand.

All it says is i love you.

And for the both of you, that's all it needs to say.)

[lostinlovingrevery]

He's Definitely Obsessed With You (Series)

Origins! Logan X Fem!Reader

Plot: You're an army nurse, deep in the trenches of the Vietnam jungles, doing everything you can to keep yourself together, and the infantry that come into your tent. One day a soldier you aren't familiar with is brought in, and you find out something about him that leads to the start of an important relationship between you both that changes the course of your lives together...

A/N: This is basically the plot of Origins, but with my own spin on it with a Fem!Reader! This is my first time EVER writing an X reader, so comments appreciate! I plan to make this a series, but I wanted to put out a prologue first. Okay, it's not really a prologue and more like a chapter, and ended up being super long because I started writing and then didn't stop, and prologues are short- but IT'S MY STORY AND I'LL CREATE MY OWN RULES. The prologue is just how reader and Logan meet! (PS, there's eventual smut...Soon as I figure out how write it without getting embarrassed) Also, I'm still figuring out how to format on Tumblr, so please don't mind any funky design choices. Probably spelling and grammar mistakes somewhere in there

Warnings: Reader POV only (for now) Reader is female, also an army nurse, also a mutant- but powers aren't specified, blood mention, medical stuff talked about (like amputations), injury descriptions, Vietnam war and slight politics mention, probably a lot of historical inaccuracies i just googled things but I tried! implied reader could be religious but honestly there's nothing concrete to that. The only description of reader is her clothes and that she has hair, and wears makeup (lipstick). Reader has a hard on over Logan (she has a cruuuush), let me know if there's anything I missed!

Word Count: 4753

Series Masterlist

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Prologue:

Rain rapped lightly along the top of the large tent, creating a soothing sound throughout. A radio, playing an american music station, played a rock song, of some new band slowly making a name for itself, sat nearby on a metal cabinet. Stacks of manila folders and papers were disorganized and spread, almost completely covering a desk. A clock ticks rhythmically. The tent was lined with cots, tables, ratty mattresses, IV stands, and small tables covered with empty food trays, water canisters, and paper cups filled pills. Some of the beds were taken up by injured men, snoring and groaning as they attempted to sleep, only slightly more comfortable here in the medical tent than out in the muddy, rainy trenches. It was monsoon season in Vietnam, and you were at your wits end with paperwork in the middle of a small but-not-that-small camp, set up not far from an American fire support base.

You were sitting at the desk, half asleep as you attempted to fill out another request form for medical supplies. Halothane, Methoxyflurane, Morphine, Penicillin - are common medicines that you find yourself constantly having to restock. Of course bandages, gloves, needles, saline, tubing, multiple surgical supplies, other things you find yourself low on often too, considering the amount of amputations, large and minor, that happen around here. The medical tent that you currently reside in was a revolving door of soldiers, both American and Vietnamese, as well as nearby villagers who come for aid after the American presence near their homes led to viruses they can’t combat on their own, or other unfortunate injuries if war breaks out in their village. 

You were simply an army nurse, this was not your usual duty to perform, it was normally left to the assigned doctor of the camp. Your job was to assist the doctor, take care of the patients, administer medicine, IVs, change bandages, wet baths, feed them, and hold their hands as they cry for their momma and to God. You were busy enough, and the doctor, Doctor Frank Jones, who you were assisting had got shot by a stray bullet when out in the jungle, and had to be taken back to the main base, and back to the States. Due to a communication failure, his replacement ended up somewhere else, and transportation wasn’t an option due to the fighting happening.

 Fortunately, Doctor Jones had seen potential in you and believed you would be an excellent doctor one day - something you wanted to pursue after your service was fulfilled. He became a mentor, helping you study and learn medicine, and giving you skills that an average nurse- even an army nurse- wouldn’t usually have. Now, it was just up to you, and a few young army medics - teenage boys who were given no choice in going to war, and their skills were found best in assisting injuries on the battlefield, but they were eager to help, and their light-hearted jokes and company helped relieve some stress for you, especially with the pain you watch day in and out. You didn’t always have the luxury of their help though, as when patrols went out, they required at least one of them to join. It leads you to have to order around other grunts who have no idea how to even measure the proper dosage of cough syrup for themselves whenever a serious injury comes in, having to give detailed orders on what to do- usually just getting you the supplies and medicine you need, as the grunts are typically too distracted and upset over their fallen brother to assist you in anything medical and complicated. 

With being the only medical authority in the camp- as well as the only woman- you were well respected and popular. Your compassionate personality, and comforting presence, as well as your “Take-no-shit” attitude, led to soldiers of this camp visiting you all the time, usually making up excuses like having a cough, or a splinter in their finger, just so they could have the pleasure of your smile and encouraging words. The CO here made sure that they all treated you with respect, as a woman- and a nurse, so you never once felt unsafe- or unappreciated. Besides, a good section of this camp is young boys, too nervous about their situation to worry about trying to flirt with a woman like you. You're more of a comfort figure in these parts than anything else. Despite the stress and worry you face in day to day life, in the middle of the war, you were just happy to be doing something. You weren’t exactly a supporter of this war, but the moment you saw young boys lining up to go to war, something in you made you fiercely determined to follow, and do whatever you can to make sure those boys can go back home to their mothers and fathers.

The Rolling Stones was now playing on the radio, this was a band you were more familiar with - one of your favorites. Your foot tapped to the beat of the song, as you checked off another item you needed to be stocked up on- and hoped the supply chain doesn’t hold out on you again. For some reason, they seemed convinced that you must surely be lying about the supplies and will not send you the full amount of what you requested, leading you to storm into the CO’s tent on more than one occasion and rant to him with a few unsavory words about the supply lines commander.  He always listens though, and does his best to get you what you can- which you can appreciate. 

“Hey turn that up-” You heard one of the patients call out, and she smiles, reaching to the radio and turning the volume higher. She looked up from the desk to see one patient in bed moving his foot with the beat of the song, and the other, who asked her to turn it up, raised his arm in the air, hand in a fist as he rocked with the song. “This is a good one, hadn’t heard this one yet.”

“It came out in 65’ dumbass.” the other called out. “How’d you not know it?”

“I’ve been here since 64’ asshole! Think we always had access to a radio?”

They all chided each other, making you laugh as you shake your head, turning back towards your paperwork, determined to finish it today so you can send it out. It was rare you get these moments of quiet, so you appreciated it when you could. Things could turn on a dime in a second, especially since the fighting was getting closer to where this camp was set, and you’re hoping that you would get some help before anything serious came. You were just starting to get absorbed in the letter you were writing to the CO of the supply line, something slightly passive aggressive, when one of the soldiers yelled to you from outside. 

“Hey! Nurse! There’s some guys coming this way! They got someone injured-” 

You looked up, dropping your pencil, and turning the radio down as you readied yourself, brushing the pants of your army fatigues to straighten it out, and rolling your sleeves farther up your arms. You watched as the flaps of the tent get pulled open, as two men carry someone resting on a cot. You didn’t like how quiet the man was being.

“In here-” You lead them to another section of the medical tent, ment solely for treating wounded, in an attempt to keep something sterile and clean- well, as clean as you can get it. The soldiers set the man onto the table that sat in the center of the room, small trays and medical supplies, as well as a large overhead lamp that provided lighting to give you a better view at what you’re working on, surrounded the table. 

“We got ambushed on patrol, fortunately he’s the only one that got hit, a VC jumped out of the grass and stabbed him. We got pressure on the wound, and he’s still alive- for now.” 

You nodded as you went to a basin to pull on some sterile gloves, and walked over to examine the soldier. He was handsome- you couldn’t help but noticed but quickly put that out of your mind. A full head of deep beautiful brown hair, and a thick beard framed his face. He looked older, possibly in his mid 30’s. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, as his teeth were gritted and eyes cinched shut in pain. A wave of sorrow hit you, as you never liked seeing people in pain, it hits you bad enough to wonder why you chose to go into the medical profession of all things. Nevertheless, you push through, and began working on removing the uniform so you can see if you can save this one. At least he wasn’t screaming.

“Whats his name?”

“Logan ma’am. He’s Private First Class.”  The private responds, voice professional, but quickly drops into something softer. “He’s a good guy, and smart, usually quick on his feet, its surprising someone ambushed him…” 

“Need any help ma’am?” The other private who brought him in ask.

“No, I got it, thank you.” You tell them as you grab some sheers and began cutting through Logan's army garments. “Just make sure others are alright. See if any of the boys out there need water.”

They nodded, saluting- leading you to roll your eyes- and left your section of the tent, just as you manage to cut off the white wife beater he was sporting underneath his army garments, giving you a complete view of where he had been stabbed. You breathed a small sigh of relief, the wound appeared in the part of the torso where nothing vital was located and you managed to roll him to his side- seeing the stabbing didn’t go straight through, meaning this guy had a good chance of surviving, assuming he doesn’t succumb to infection…

“Alright Logan,” You turned you head to look at the man, who was still tense, eyes squeezed shut. He was somewhat awake, with his breathing and the way his muscles contracted, but he didn’t seem to be aware of what was going on, you still felt it important to talk to whoever you were treating though. You had to hold the hands of many scared soldiers, and quickly have learned the right things to say when comforting. “I’m going to take care of you, and in return, you’re going to need to be strong for me here.” You say softly but firmly to him, hoping that he’s hearing you through the pain, as you went and quickly grabbed a wet cloth out of a basin nearby, squeezing out the excess water, and gently placing it over his forehead, in order to soak up some sweat, and provide some more comfort to cool his skin that seemed to be burning hot. You couldn’t help but note that you don’t recognize him- you wouldn’t have forgotten his face that’s for damn sure, if he’d ever came to visit you, which most privates in this camp has at one time or another. You shook the curiosity out of your head, you had to move quickly, fighting the urge to wanting to take in the details of his face- his very handsome face, and moved to focus back onto the wound on his torso. 

You started by slowly removing the packed bandages, examining the blood flow to make sure nothing gushed, but he really wasn’t bleeding much anymore- actually, it didn’t look like he was bleeding at all now. Confused, you began cleaning the area of the stab wound so you could get a clear view of what you were looking at. At first, you thought you were losing your mind, you had to been because what you were seeing…

It was as if the skin was growing back, the wound, going inwards seemed to almost pop out, before the skin stitched together, going through what the bodys usual healing process would look like- except doing it within a matter of seconds. Turning from a bright red inflamed wound, into a baby pink scar bump that slowly faded off, you couldn’t even tell anything had happen there- except from the blood stained around it. You were blinking in disbelief, mouth slightly agape, before it suddenly occurred to you what you were just seeing.

Oh

Oh shit-

He’s a mutant.

You looked at the man, who’s muscles seemed to be relaxing now, as he took deeper breaths, the sweat on his face began to dry and disappear. You weren’t sure what to do at this point, you’re so used to every minute counting to fix someone, and this guy just healed himself in seconds!

And by god, he was so handsome. You thought that already, got to stop thinking about that. Turning away from his face, you went to examine where the stab wound used to be, gloved fingers gently pressing on the area- before the soldier- Logan, practically yelped- and sat up rushed on the table, startling you even more so than him, as you jumped back, hands in the air in surrender- as if you did anything wrong.

He was panting, the cold wet cloth you had placed on his forehead fell into his lap, as he looked around with wide eyes, pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring, he almost looked animal-like in this state. He turned to look at you. His eyes took you in, and suddenly you felt embarrassed by your army clothes you were sporting, green cargo pants, and a green collared button up shirt, tucked into your pants, making you feel less than girlish in them, despite their comfortability, your forehead was covered in sweat, and your hair pulled back in a bun neat bun with baby hairs sticking out everywhere. At least you had lipstick on to give yourself a little bit of a pop in your plain looking outfit. That should be the last thing you should be worried about. 

“You’re okay-” You finally found your voice, holding your hands out to him, “You got ambushed, but you’re okay now.” 

He blinked, then let out a small sigh, his whole self seeming to relax, his expression turned more human-like, as he faced forward, then looked down at himself. His hand went over where he had been hurt- seeing that there was no longer any injury there, although something in his expression told you he could still feel it. He swallowed, jaw tensing, before realization struck him, and his head snapped to look at you. 

“You saw- You know, don’t you?” He asks, his voice was deep, but sounded a little dry and scratchy. Still, it was enough to make your knees weak. 

You turned, going to a cabinet that held medicines and various other supplies, but on the counter was a pitcher of water and a few glass cups. Pulling off your gloves, you poured a cup from the pitcher, turning back and handing it to him. 

“Yeah. I saw.” You say cooly, holding it out for him to take. He looked at you, his deep and should you think gorgeous hazel eyes felt like they were piercing your soul; as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head, which you wish you knew as well because his stare was making your brain fuzzy; then glanced at the cup and finally took it from your hand, your fingers brushing together, making your heartbeat just a little faster, and you could feel a small heat blooming in your cheeks.

Jesus christ, pull yourself together 

You thought to yourself. You cleared your throat while he took several swigs of water, dropping his hand with the cup to his side as he took a moment to breathe once more. 

“Got anything stronger?” He asks, his low and smoother now, quirking a brow at you. You smiled, 

“Sorry, anything alcoholic you may want to drink in here, I gotta save for the guys who can’t heal themselves within minutes.” You say teasingly. “Supplies are low enough already.” 

You could see a small quirk of his lips, in something resembling a smile. He was still tense though, his eyes seemed to be somewhere else. He looked at you again,

“Does it…scare you? Me being a mutant?” He asks, his voice low

“Um….No?” You responded, confusion on your face, a small shake of your head, “Why would it?” 

He seemed relieved- and surprised by that answer, his shoulders finally relaxing, and he took another drink of water, eyes closing as he finished the cup, and handed it back to you, where you set it back on the counter. Wiping his mouth with his arm, he sat up more confidently, bending his leg as he brought his knee up to his chest, and propped his forearm over it, and leaned back on his other hand, taking a few deep breaths as he lowered his head down, then looked back up at you, his expression suddenly stern.

“You gonna tell them?” He asks. You knew he was referring to the army. Mutants weren’t well accepted in the world- much less the US army. The American government is actually sitting comfortably in the capital and writing out bullshit laws on mutant regulations, rather than trying to figure out a solution for the war here in Vietnam. You, a mutant yourself, albeit your powers were easy to hide and conceal, you still feared of a day that someone somehow discovers your secret. You’ve heard stories of American soldiers revealed to be mutants being killed, due to some bullshit excuse that they “lied” about who they were, and couldn’t be trusted. Whether those stories were true or fearmongering to keep mutants hiding their true identities, you didn’t know, but you certainly weren’t gonna find out yourself. You definitely wouldn’t put another fellow mutant, just trying to survive like you, in any sort of danger like that, even if he could probably just heal if he got put in front of a firing squad.

You pursed your lips together. Then smiled. “No. I’ll keep your secret.” You say. “All it means to me is that I have one less person to worry about around here. I was actually wondering why I hadn’t seen your face in this tent yet before, and now I know why.” 

He softened at that, but his face quickly fell back into something more serious and stern once more, which you’re starting to think might be his baseline. 

“You okay?” You asked, your voice was soft, and sweet, and borderline angelic for a man like him, who’s been in wars almost his entire life- which you don’t know about that. “That probably didn’t feel good, what happened.” He nodded. 

“M’ fine….Thank you.” He grumbles lowly, looking down at his hands. “I heard about you- actually I-I seen you around. You’re the only nurse on camp?” He asked, looking back up at you, there seemed to be a bit of curiosity in his voice. 

“Yeah. I’m pretty popular.” You say, in a teasing voice, blushing at the thought that he’s noticed you. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, you are quite literally the only woman around, save for the women in the village not far from here.  

“Must be busy.”

“Oh… Nah-” You playfully wave him off. “Some days are so slow, I’m actually bored.” You say matter-of-factly, but you both knew you were kidding. Another quirk of his lips. You smiled softly at him, but there was a voice in your head telling you, that since he doesn’t need your help, you should probably get back to helping the ones who do. Not that you want to leave, he was so damn handsome, you could stare at him all day. It wasn’t just his good looks though, his whole self drew you in with just a few words, and you find yourself wanting to get to know Logan, because the look in his eyes told you that he was someone worth knowing. Or maybe that was just your hormones talking. There was just this energy between you both, some type of unseen connection. His eyes trailed down you again, this time fully taking you in, stopping at your chest, and for a moment you were about to be completely turned off by this man being a pervert, but he nodded towards it. 

“Your necklace?” He asked. You looked down, oh, you thought to yourself. You pulled the string of your necklace, lifting the small coin that it held, string carefully wrapped around it so it doesn’t fall off.

“It’s a prayer coin. A priest gave it to me.” You explained. “It’s the archangel Raphael. A protector, patron saint of medical workers, like doctors, nurses.”

“Like you?” 

You nodded. He examined it, before you tucked it back under your shirt. You usually keep it hidden, but it must have fallen out while you were rushing. Now it was silent again, and you both weren’t sure what to do or say. 

“Well….” You took a breath, you glanced down at his abdomen, and suddenly your brows creased in concentration. 

“What?” He asked, by your sudden change in demeanor. 

“You can’t exactly walk out with no injury. Those two privates were pretty worried about you.” You say, putting your hands on your hips and pursing your lips together. You clicked your tongue.

“I can figure something out-”

“No no-” You held your hand up and looking around the room. “Those privates brought you in, there’s probably an incident report written right now, not to mention I have to write a report on your injuries too-” you explained. “I mean, how are you gonna explain it if you walk out, completely A-okay?”

Logan shrugged simply. “I can think of something, it isn’t the first time this happened.” You rolled your eyes. Men. 

You rather not waste bandages on a pretend injury, but you need someway to get his injury to look believeable, thats when you spotted your answer. His white tank top that you had drop to the floor, it was good enough to wrap around him, making him look as if he’s been all fixed up from his stab wound. The shirts cotton texture looked similar to the pattern of a bandage, and was good enough, especially considering no one would be looking hard enough at his wound anyway.

After a few minutes of “fixing him up” with your solution to keep his regenerative abilities a secret, you stood back examining the fake bandage/shirt that you tore up and wrapped around his torso, using bandage pins to hold it in place. Then shrugged. 

“It’s good enough.” You say. “You’re not going anywhere anyway, so it’s not like you’ll raise a bunch of questions. It looks like you have an injury, it’ll match the incident and medical report. You won’t get found out.”

“I’m not going anywhere?” He raised a brow. 

“Nope. You were injured, which means I gotta keep an eye on you. So you’ll be sleeping here, and you’ll have to pretend you’re in pain, whining and moaning and all that. Give it your best performance.” You encourage. “Take it, not many around here get a chance to get a break like that.” 

He looked at you, pondering what you were offering him- well, you weren’t offering, he was going to have do it because you weren’t gonna risk him revealing himself as a mutant, which for some reason you were now more concerned about than he was. A small smirk appeared on his face, “That mean you’ll be waiting on me then, hand and foot?”

You smiled, “Don’t get ahead of yourself soldier.” You say teasingly. “You can stay in here a little longer, rest up, maybe shed some tears to make it look like you’re suffering tremendously.” You added a little flair as you brought your hand up to your forehead, pretending to faint, before turning and walking away to leave the room, now knowing you really needed to get back to work.

“I don’t think I need to shed any tears.” He mutters, but there was amusement in his tone though. “Hey bub” He called after you as you were about to leave the room, lifting the tent flap, but you stopped to look at him. “Why are you seen keen on helping me out? Making a plan to make sure people don’t find out what I am…Seems like too much trouble to go through for you.” He frowned. 

“Well…” You dropped the flap of the tent, “Us mutants gotta stick together, right?” Logan looked surprised at first, eyes widening a bit, and jaw slacking, but then a soft, genuine smile stretched across his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling, leaving you thinking that was a smile you never wanted to go without again. Smiling back at him, you winked, and turned back before stopping and looking at him again, “Plus, you seem worth the trouble.” You add, before finally leaving him to himself.

Maybe it was too much trouble. You could leave Logan to figure it out himself. You two didn’t know each other, you weren’t friends. Yet you, the compassionate self you are, and also slightly bull-headed, was not going to leave Logan hanging alone. Maybe it was the fact that you were both mutants that urged you to help him, let him know that someone like him out there has his back, even if he had many brothers at his side watching his back too. Or maybe it was because you felt an undeniable pull towards him- and him towards you. 

While he stayed in the medical tent with you for about a week, the standard time for stitches to stay in. While staying, you both got to know each other better. You found a deep friendship with Logan quickly, both of you having an understanding of each other, not just as mutants but as individuals as well. You were able to laugh, usually at his snarky remarks to the other privates and even his comments to the higher-ups, surprising you in how he likes to occasionally challenge authority despite how quiet and reflective he can be some moments. You saw him as brave, smart, and he was protective, always going first in patrols, and keeping an eye on the younger privates. He’d hid it well, rarely making it seen, but he had a compassion that made your heart swell, especially when you came across him comforting a young private who was homesick and scared. He had a good instinct that seems to attest to his mutation- which he later revealed the full aspects of it to you later on, claws and everything- which did nothing but fascinate you, leading to a full acceptance of him he hadn’t felt or seen in a long time. He’d visit you in late nights when he wasn’t assigned guard patrol, bringing you something to eat or drink, and you’d both quietly talk about your lives, and how’d you ended up there. He listened to you complain about the lack of supplies, and how you got into medicine in the first place. You’d learn of his brother Victor- another Private First Class there at the camp, who you quickly learned a distaste for after meeting him, and how old they both really were- leading you to bombard him with history questions, that he simply answered “I wasn’t there bub.” There was an unspoken yet mutual physical and spiritual attraction between you both, but before anything could have gone further in your relationship, down in the thick muddy jungles of Vietnam, you suffered a similar fate as your mentor Doctor Jones. A stray bullet having shot through your shoulder while you were out, attempting to help a young private who’s leg unfortunately got caught in a dirt trap. You were okay, but orders sent you home on a medical discharge, saying you fulfilled your duty to the States. 

You missed Logan, and you also found yourself struggling to find your place back in civilian life again, the stress and the trauma of the things you saw weighed heavy in your mind, not to mention the worry you felt over Logan's safety while he was still over there. The only thing easing your worries was the letters you wrote to each other, until one day his letters stopped coming, and your own got returned back to you with no explanation, leaving you in fear of the worst….