#thank you for following me through all of my mess!

[yaniluvs]

is it a kiss if we share a straw? ✿ 'cause i like you a (matcha) latte

[ 승민‎ ] ✷ ‎  . . 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋'𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗁𝗈𝗐, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 !

⟡ read the prequel here ⟡

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑛erdy!seungmin ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader g. fluff , humour , uni!au , classmates to lovers, skz ensemble. I3,7OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ L𝒾BRARY . 𓋜 . cw. bantering , jokes , intimacy , pets. ✦ requested. ! ࿐

yani's note ! ✿ oh god when i tell you all i had reached the IOOO blocks limit.. i almost died. so i had to edit this entirely to merge some blocks. haha.. the sequel is much longer than the prequel. well, you all deserve it since you loved the prequel !! i loved this fic so much >< thank you to the lovely iza for helping me w the titles bc my brain almost died !! also y'all please send me some requests for valentines/galentines month <3 anon. claims are also open !! hope you all like it !!! comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated ! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading <3

it was a normal morning. seungmin had woken up to the sound of jisung dramatically singing in the shower, half-dressed and flinging water everywhere like they were in some kind of k-drama opening sequence. he had stepped over piles of jisung’s clothes, debated throwing one of his textbooks at him, and had finally settled at his desk, groaning at the mess around him. it was too early for this.

and yet— knock. knock. knock. the loud, rhythmic knocking echoed through their shared dorm. jisung, now out of the shower, poked his head out from the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. "you expectin' someone?" seungmin stared at him. and then his eyes widened. oh no. he was expecting someone. before he could even get up, the knocking intensified—faster, louder, insistent. jisung pulled his toothbrush out of his mouth and smirked. “that’s a very excited knock.” seungmin scowled. “shut up.” the knocking was immediately followed by a singsong voice. “seungminnnn~ open up!” jisung practically lit up. “oh my god.” he gasped. “is that—” seungmin groaned, pushing past him and heading for the door. and when he opened it— y/n stood there, practically glowing in the morning light, wearing sneakers that looked like they had been through war.

in her hands?

two matcha lattes in takeout cups.

a small bag of pastries.

and another little package tied up neatly with string.

she grinned up at him. “good morning, seungminnie.”

he deadpanned. “never call me that again.”

she giggled and stepped inside, unfazed by his immediate rejection.

seungmin closed the door behind her. “you’re early.”

she hummed. “i like being early.”

“of course you do. isn't that why you were always early to our study sessions at the café?”

jisung, still standing by the bathroom, towel draped over his shoulders, wiggled his eyebrows.

“so this is what you two were doing instead of the café.”

y/n turned to him, brightening. “jisung! good morning.”

seungmin crossed his arms. “don’t entertain him.”

too late.

jisung grinned. “are those for me?”

y/n gasped, clutching the drinks to her chest. “no.”

jisung pouted. “not even the pastries?”

“i brought these for seungmin and me,” y/n stated proudly. “and these—” she wiggled the little package tied with string, “—are homemade treats for star.”

seungmin blinked.

she baked for his dog.

for his dog.

well, star was hers first but you get the point.

“wow,” jisung muttered, shaking his head in amazement. “so this is what love looks like.”

seungmin threw a pillow at him.

“get out.”

jisung dodged with ease, snickering as he padded toward his room. “i’ll leave you two alone. have fun being married.”

seungmin turned to y/n, about to say something—

only to find her already halfway to the couch, scanning the room excitedly.

“where’s star?” she asked, looking around like an impatient kid.

seungmin sighed. “he’s in my room.”

y/n immediately made a beeline for his door.

“y/n, don’t just barge in—”

too late.

she had already swung the door open, stepping inside like she owned the place.

and then— her heart melted. because there, curled up in a nest of blankets on seungmin’s bed, was star.

his golden fur was slightly tousled from sleep, his body curled into himself, peaceful, warm. and when he lifted his head, his dark brown eyes blinking sleepily— y/n felt her entire soul leave her body.

“hi, baby,” she whispered, stepping closer.

star’s ears perked. his nose twitched. he recognized her.

in an instant, his tail thumped against the mattress, his body wiggling with excitement.

y/n squealed. “you remember me!”

seungmin leaned against the doorway, watching as star launched himself off the bed and into her arms. y/n caught him, stumbling slightly as she hugged him tight, her face buried in his fur.

she giggled, pressing soft kisses to his head. “i missed you.”

seungmin rolled his eyes. “it’s been one day.”

y/n ignored him completely, pulling out the treats she had baked.

“look what i made for you, star,” she cooed, untying the package. “i made them with lots of love.”

seungmin snorted. “he’s a dog, not a boyfriend.”

y/n gasped, scandalized. “seungmin, take that back.”

“no.”

she glared. “you’re lucky i brought you a latte.”

“yeah, yeah.” he waved her off. “come on, let’s start the project.”

she pouted but followed him to the table, star happily munching on his treat at her feet.

seungmin slid into the chair across from her, sipping the matcha latte she brought.

(he wasn’t going to admit it, but it tasted really good.)

y/n, on the other hand, was already distracted.

“you know, seungmin,” she mused, sipping her drink. “i think you should get star a cute sweater.”

he raised an eyebrow. “a sweater?”

“yes.” she nodded firmly. “something classy. maybe a turtleneck.”

jisung, from the hallway, “a dog in a turtleneck??”

y/n gasped. “oh my god. yes.”

seungmin groaned. “you’re insane.”

she just grinned. “and you love it.”

seungmin opened his mouth to argue— only to close it again.

because, for some reason, watching her sit there, smiling so brightly, sipping her matcha like she owned the world—

he couldn’t bring himself to disagree. maybe he did love it.

maybe… he was starting to love a lot of things about her. and that thought? was a little terrifying. but still, a little exciting.

so, when thirty minutes into their so-called project work, seungmin had come to a harsh, undeniable conclusion: this was not a study session.

it was a y/n-admires-star-and-gets-distracted-every-five-seconds session. and it was infuriating.

"y/n," seungmin sighed, dragging a hand down his face, "focus."

"i am focused," she argued, still not looking at him.

seungmin followed her gaze—

she was star-ing at star. again. [see what i did there?]

the golden retriever was curled up beside her chair, sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. and y/n? she had completely zoned out mid-sentence, her cheek resting against her hand, eyes soft as she watched star’s ears twitch in his sleep.

seungmin clicked his tongue. "what exactly are you focused on?"

she blinked, barely registering his words. "him."

jisung, from the kitchen, snorted.

"are you serious right now?" seungmin groaned.

y/n hummed. "mhm."

seungmin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "i knew this was a bad idea. we should’ve just gone to the café."

y/n finally tore her gaze away from star to look at him, gasping in fake offense. "excuse me?"

"you heard me," seungmin deadpanned.

she scoffed. "first of all, rude. second, blasphemy. third, i brought you a matcha latte, and this is how you repay me?"

jisung cackled. "she's got a point."

"shut up, squirrel-face."

y/n pouted dramatically, sinking into her chair. "you don’t appreciate anything. i bet star appreciates me more than you do."

seungmin exhaled sharply. "he's a dog."

she gasped. "and? that just means he has purer judgment."

seungmin narrowed his eyes. "so what you’re saying is that my dog likes you more than me?"

y/n grinned. "oh, absolutely."

jisung smirked. "can’t argue with that one."

seungmin threw his pen at him.

"okay," seungmin sighed, rubbing his temples. "since you're so focused on star, tell me—what exactly is so fascinating about him?"

y/n lit up. oh no. this was a mistake.

she leaned forward, clasping her hands together like she had been waiting for him to ask.

"well, first of all," she began, "look at him."

seungmin deadpanned. "i do look at him. every day. because he's my dog."

"dude, it's been three days since you've seen him. and the first was at the adoption cent-"

she ignored the two. "he's literally the cutest thing. did you notice how his ears flop when he breathes?"

jisung muttered, "here we go."

y/n gasped dramatically. "and the little scar on his eyebrow? he looks like a pirate. a handsome pirate."

seungmin tilted his head. "handsome pirate?"

"yes!" y/n cried. "he has this rugged, mysterious look—like a hero with a tragic past."

jisung choked on his water.

seungmin stared at her, baffled. "you think my dog has a tragic past?"

"...he does," y/n huffed. "the whole reason he was in the shelter is because— well, he was abandoned.. and not treated with care. which is why he deserves all the love in the world now."

her voice softened slightly at the last part.

and for a second—just a second—seungmin didn’t have a sarcastic remark ready.

he just watched as she gazed at star again, her fingers lightly brushing against the fur on his back.

soft. gentle. affectionate.

there was something about the way she cared that made something uncomfortable stir in his chest.

he quickly cleared his throat. "so you're saying he’s a main character."

"obviously," y/n nodded. "if this were a movie, he'd be the heartwarming, lovable side character who helps the protagonist through tough times."

"then what does that make you?"

she blinked.

then she grinned. "the best friend. duh."

jisung chimed in from the kitchen, "pretty sure you're the main character here."

[han's mind rn: the fourth wall??? what is it?]

y/n laughed. "oh no, seungmin's the main character. he's all broody and grumpy and—"

seungmin raised an eyebrow. "and what?"

she smirked. "secretly a softie."

jisung howled.

seungmin groaned, shoving his textbook over to her. "read. before i kick you out."

y/n giggled but picked up the book obediently, flipping through the pages. "fine, fine. but just so you know, i'm gonna see star every single day from now on."

seungmin sipped his latte. "did i have a choice?"

"nope."

he exhaled through his nose. "figures."

jisung snickered. "damn. she already owns half of this dorm and it hasn't even been a day."

y/n beamed. "you're right. i should start bringing decorations."

"don't even think about it."

she winked. and somehow—between y/n's constant distractions, jisung's unhelpful commentary, and star snoring at their feet— seungmin found himself not minding it at all.

. . .

seungmin had a headache. not because of uni. not because of work. but because the girl just wouldn't shut the fuck up.

the study session had officially derailed at this point. and to make matters worse, jisung—his supposed best friend—had fully switched sides and was entertaining y/n’s nonsense instead of helping to keep her on track.

“seungmin, do you think star has dreams?” y/n asked suddenly, staring at the sleeping dog beside her with a fond smile.

seungmin blinked, deadpan. “huh?”

“like—what do you think he dreams about?”

jisung smirked from across the couch, munching on one of the pastries y/n had brought. “bet he dreams about running through a field of treats.”

“or maybe about fighting evil!” y/n gasped, dramatically throwing a fist in the air. “like a true hero.”

seungmin dragged a hand down his face. “y/n, i swear—”

“or maybe he dreams about you,” she cut in, turning toward him with a teasing grin. “since you’re his owner and all.”

he hesitated. for a second. and for some reason, that second was too long.

y/n noticed.

her eyes twinkled, mischief curling at the edges of her lips. “oh my god. do you care about that?”

seungmin scowled, turning back to his notes. “i literally do not care.”

“liar.”

jisung snorted. “she got you there.”

seungmin groaned, flipping to another page in his textbook, pretending to focus. “can we please study?”

y/n hummed. “mmm, maybe later.”

his eye twitched. “maybe later?”

she nodded, taking a sip of her matcha latte. “mhm.”

jisung laughed. “yeah, man. priorities.”

seungmin closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose.

he could throw them both out. he could lock the door. he could actually get his work done in peace.

but he didn’t.

instead, he sighed and turned his head slightly—just enough to see y/n sitting on the floor, her legs tucked under her, her fingers running absentmindedly through star’s fur as she murmured something to him.

soft.

she was soft. i'm aware i mentioned it before. but this man is just too smitten and he doesn't wanna admit it.

moving on.

it was annoying how much that was becoming a fact in his life.

his throat felt weird.

he cleared it. “if we’re not going to study, at least do something productive.”

y/n looked up. “like what?”

jisung pointed lazily. “laundry.”

“ew, i'm not washing some boys' laundry. pass.”

“dishes.”

“hard pass.”

seungmin sighed. “what i meant was.. help clean up the disaster you made on the table. not your chores, jisung.”

jisung pouted. “it was worth a try.”

she stood up, stretching her arms over her head before reaching for the empty takeout cups. seungmin didn’t know why—but his eyes lingered on her for a second too long.

the way her sleeves slid slightly down her wrists. the soft hum she let out as she moved. the light clicking of her rings as they tapped against the cups.

it was—

subtle.

but not enough. he looked away, shaking his head as jisung smirked at him from across the room.

don’t. seungmin mouthed.

jisung grinned.

seungmin glared.

jisung winked.

seungmin threw a pen at him. (x2)

by the time evening rolled around, the three of them had managed to not study for a total of six hours.

seungmin didn’t even know how that was possible.

somewhere in between y/n stealing one of his blankets (“it’s cold, seungmo, have a heart”), jisung and y/n dramatically reenacting an entire scene from a movie (“what are we, if not cosmic dust floating in the abyss?”—“jisung, shut up”), and y/n curling up beside star again (“you’re the cutest thing in the world—yes, i mean you, star”),

seungmin had lost control of the day.

and yet.

he let it happen.

because when y/n turned her head slightly and smiled at him—genuinely, softly, with that bright look in her eyes like she was just happy to be here—

seungmin didn’t mind it at all. not one bit. soon, enough, it was right after the sun had set, and y/n, unfortunately, had to leave.

she unlocked the door to her shared dorm, pushing it open with her shoulder. the soft hum of the night filled the space as she stepped in, her body exhausted but her heart… full.

“where have you been?”

rina’s voice rang from the couch, where she was lying upside down, her head hanging off the edge as she scrolled through her phone.

aeri, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a cup of tea, smirked. “let me guess—seungmin?”

y/n shut the door behind her, pausing. “…no?”

a beat of silence. aeri and rina stared at her.

y/n groaned, kicking off her shoes. “okay, yes—but it was for the project!”

aeri snorted. “mhm. project.”

“yeah, totally.” rina rolled onto her side. “is that why you’re smiling like an idiot right now?”

“i am not—”

“you so are.”

y/n scowled, throwing a cushion at them. “shut up.”

they laughed, rina catching the cushion before sitting up properly. “seriously though, how was it?”

y/n sighed, plopping onto the couch beside her. “it was… nice.”

aeri hummed, sipping her tea. “just nice?”

“yeah. we didn’t even get much work done, honestly.”

rina raised a brow. “you didn’t get work done? that’s new.”

y/n shrugged, rubbing at her eyes. “i dunno… star was there, and jisung was being jisung, and it was just…” she trailed off, her gaze softening.

they noticed.

aeri set her mug down, tilting her head. “you really like that dog, huh?”

y/n smiled, running a hand through her hair. “yeah. a lot.”

she didn’t say more. she didn’t have to. because they both knew what she wasn’t saying.

knew how much that golden retriever meant to her.

knew how much she had worried about him for days.

and now—he was safe. with seungmin, of all people.

her stomach flipped at the thought.

“seungmin’s a good guy,” rina murmured after a moment.

y/n blinked, looking at her.

aeri nodded. “yeah. kinda stiff, but still.”

y/n huffed a small laugh. “yeah. he’s good.”

she didn’t realize she was smiling again. she didn’t realize how warm her chest felt.

she only realized when aeri and rina exchanged knowing looks.

“omg—”

“no.”

they gasped.

rina grabbed her arm. “you like him.”

“i do not—”

aeri smirked. “y/n and seungmin, sitting in a tree—”

“i will throw you out.”

they died laughing as y/n groaned, shoving her face into a pillow. her heart thumped in her chest.

god. she hated them.

but maybe, they weren’t entirely wrong.

the air was crisp. sunlight streamed through the glass windows of the university’s main hall, casting golden streaks across the floor. y/n walked in, her bag slung over her shoulder. the campus was bustling, students huddled in groups, talking, laughing, yawning from their morning exhaustion. she weaved through the crowd, searching—

“y/n!”

she turned at the sound of her name, spotting felix and hyunjin across the hall.

felix waved dramatically. “we were about to call you.”

hyunjin grinned. “where were you last night? we tried calling you.”

y/n sighed. “oh my god, not you too.”

felix perked up. “ooooh, why? who else asked?”

she immediately regretted speaking.

hyunjin gasped. “wait, wait—was it seungmin?”

y/n choked on her coffee.

felix clapped. “that’s a yes!”

“i hate you guys.”

they cackled as they walked toward their lecture hall, hyunjin slinging an arm around her shoulders. “c’mon, spill. what happened?”

y/n groaned. “nothing!”

felix wiggled his brows. “oh? you sure?”

“i will end you, lee felix.”

the university library was quiet—well, as quiet as it could be with them in it. the scent of old books mixed with the sharp aroma of coffee, and the late afternoon sun filtered through the large glass windows, casting soft, golden hues over the long study tables. dust motes floated lazily in the warm light, drifting like tiny fireflies in the still air. the heavy shelves stretched toward the ceiling, lined with worn spines and crinkled pages, whispering secrets of past knowledge. somewhere in the distance, the occasional sound of a page turning or a muffled cough punctuated the silence, but at their table, silence was a foreign concept.

y/n sat between felix and hyunjin, her open notebook filled with neatly written notes, margins lined with underlined key points and little doodles she barely remembered sketching. the steady scratch of her pen against paper was a familiar rhythm, almost meditative, yet constantly interrupted by felix's restless shifting and hyunjin's occasional, dramatic sighs. across from them, aeri was flipping through her economics textbook, brows furrowed, her highlighter hovering in hesitation before finally marking a passage in a precise, straight line. rina, on the other hand, looked far too unbothered for someone who was definitely lagging behind, sipping lazily on her iced americano, the condensation dripping onto her untouched notes. the cup left a wet ring on the paper, but she didn’t seem to care, content to simply exist in this moment of chaotic tranquility.

felix stretched his arms above his head before slumping back into his chair with an exaggerated groan, the wooden legs creaking under his weight. he adjusted his reading glasses, even though they served no real purpose beyond aesthetics. "so let me get this straight," he began, tilting his head as if the angle would somehow change the reality of the situation. "you guys have been studying for the past week and i just found out we have an assignment due tomorrow?"

hyunjin snorted, flipping his pen between his fingers with practiced ease. "lix, it was literally on the syllabus."

"who reads the syllabus?"

aeri sighed, flipping a page, her expression exasperated yet unsurprised. "people who want to pass, maybe?"

felix rolled his eyes before turning to y/n, nudging her arm with the side of his hand like an impatient child. "you’re good at this. help me."

y/n sighed dramatically, her gaze shifting from felix’s pleading expression to the scattered mess that was his notes—half-written sentences, numbers that had no business being in those equations, and a truly concerning number of crossed-out attempts. "i always help you."

"that’s ‘cause i’m your favorite."

rina leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. "that’s funny, because i thought i was her favorite."

"i thought i was," hyunjin added, raising a brow.

aeri scoffed, feigning offense. "she likes me the most. y/n, tell them."

y/n stared at them all, unimpressed, tapping her pen against the edge of her notebook. "none of you are my favorite."

a beat of silence stretched between them.

"yeah 'cause it's probably seungmin now." murmured a devastated hyunjin.

felix gasped, placing a hand over his heart as if physically wounded. "how could you?"

hyunjin wiped a fake tear. "we were best friends, y/n."

aeri shook her head in disappointment. "wow. betrayal."

rina sighed, sipping her coffee with the air of someone deeply wronged. "i trusted you."

y/n groaned, rubbing her temples. "oh my god, shut up and study!"

felix pouted but leaned in closer, resting his chin on his hand. "fine. but only if you explain this." he pointed to his book, where a bunch of equations were scribbled down, some very wrong.

y/n took one glance and winced. "felix… what is that?"

"my attempt at math?"

"it looks like you just guessed."

"…isn’t that how math works?"

aeri smacked his arm with her highlighter. "no."

hyunjin burst into laughter while rina shook her head, stirring her coffee absentmindedly. "you are so hopeless."

felix whined, turning back to y/n. "okay, okay, explain it to me."

y/n sighed, but there was fondness in her voice. "alright, listen carefully…" she leaned in, grabbing a pen, and started breaking down the equations step by step, her handwriting smooth and deliberate, looping over the lined paper in a way that made even numbers look elegant. felix watched with exaggerated concentration, nodding along as if he actually understood, though his occasional side glances at hyunjin betrayed his confusion. hyunjin watched for a few seconds before stretching his arms out with a groan. "i give up. my brain hurts."

"same," rina mumbled, propping her cheek against her palm.

aeri rolled her eyes. "you guys have the attention span of goldfish."

"i have the attention span of a very smart goldfish, thank you," hyunjin corrected, tossing his pen onto his notebook with a soft clatter.

felix nodded. "same. i’m a gifted goldfish."

"omg, lixie, what if we become cute goldfish together!"

y/n groaned, pressing her forehead against the table for a dramatic moment. "yeah, actually, why don't you? the pool's in the next building!"

y/n had a talent for many things. writing poetry? check. memorizing entire songs after listening to them twice? absolutely. winning over strangers with her sunshine personality? without a doubt.

but being on time? yeah, no.

her eyes widened as she looked at the time on her phone. the numbers blinked back at her, unforgiving and merciless. oh shit indeed.

the library around her suddenly felt suffocating, the quiet hum of study murmurs and the distant shuffle of pages all blending into white noise. the golden afternoon light spilling through the windows no longer felt warm and dreamy; it was a glaring reminder of the twenty minutes that had already passed.

“oh shit.”

felix and hyunjin, who were still lounging at their study table, looked up in unison, their gazes slow and unconcerned. the contrast between their leisure and her rising panic was almost comical.

hyunjin blinked. "language."

“oh my god, i’m late!” y/n scrambled to shove her books into her tote bag, her movements frantic and chaotic. papers crumpled under the force of her hands, and in her rush, her elbow nearly knocked over the remnants of her coffee. the cup wobbled dangerously before felix, ever the observer, reached out and steadied it with a lazy hand.

“i was supposed to meet seungmin twenty minutes ago!” her voice wavered somewhere between hysteria and despair.

felix, unfazed, took a slow sip of his drink. “oh, he’s gonna murder you.”

“i know!”

hyunjin grinned, resting his chin in his palm. “do you want us to attend your funeral, or would you prefer we just remember you as you were?”

“not helping!” she hissed, yanking the strap of her bag over her shoulder with more force than necessary.

aeri, who had been listening from the next table, raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "you guys are studying again?"

y/n waved a frantic hand. "yes, but listen—i planned something. a genius plan. a brilliant plan."

felix leaned forward, intrigued, though his smirk suggested he was already expecting something ridiculous. “do tell.”

“we’re not studying in his dorm.”

hyunjin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “then where?”

y/n’s fingers flew over her phone as she sent a frantic ‘sorry! on my way!! don’t kill me!!!’ text before looking back at them, practically vibrating with excitement.

“i thought… instead of just sitting indoors, we could take star out.” she grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “maybe a walk? or even better—a garden! a little picnic study session! nature, fresh air, vibes.”

felix stared at her for a long moment, then burst into laughter. "you’re just using the project as an excuse to hang out with star, aren’t you?"

“…no.”

aeri smirked, arms crossed. "uh-huh. sure. and does seungmin know?"

y/n cleared her throat, her gaze darting to the side. "…he’ll find out when we get there."

hyunjin grinned, eyes glinting with amusement. “so basically, you’re kidnapping him.”

“i prefer the term forcefully encouraging outdoor bonding time,” y/n corrected, lifting her chin in faux sophistication.

felix leaned back in his chair, his laughter still lingering in the air. “or it's more of a date.”

“okay, okay, i have to go.” y/n swung her bag over her shoulder with all the grace of someone teetering on the edge of disaster. “if i don’t text in the next hour, assume seungmin has buried me alive.”

“will do,” hyunjin said cheerfully. “good luck, kidnapper.”

y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t stop to argue. instead, she bolted out of the library, weaving between study tables and stacks of books, her hurried footsteps echoing against the quiet hush of the space. the moment she pushed through the heavy doors and into the cool evening air, her heart pounded against her ribs.

seungmin was so going to kill her. but at least he’d have to do it after their impromptu picnic.

“notice how she didn't deny about it being a date?”

y/n practically sprinted to her dorm, dodging students and weaving through the hallways like she was in an action movie. her hair whipped around her face, strands catching in the soft glow of overhead lights, and her breath came in short, determined bursts. her mind raced faster than her feet, already imagining seungmin’s unimpressed stare, his sharp eyes narrowed in something between disappointment and reluctant amusement.

she nearly crashed into rina, who had just stepped out.

“woah—where’s the fire?” she laughed, stepping aside.

“in seungmin’s eyes if i don’t get there soon!” y/n yelled, yanking open the door and rushing inside.

“told you he’d kill you one of these days.”

“yeah, yeah,” y/n huffed, throwing her tote bag onto the floor. she hurriedly grabbed her water bottle, some notebooks, and very important essentials—star’s treats, a small blanket, and, of course, snacks. rina peered into the bag, her expression knowing. "you realize you’re doing more for this dog than you did for our last project, right?"

"first of all, rude," y/n shot back, stuffing one last thing into her tote. "second of all—no time to argue, i gotta go!"

she waved lazily. "don’t get yourself murdered."

y/n barely heard her as she bolted out of the dorm, her feet pounding against the pavement, heart racing. the wind bit at her skin, but she barely noticed. she had a mission.

so, by the time y/n reached seungmin and jisung’s dorm, she was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but victorious. she knocked rapidly, shifting her tote bag from one shoulder to the other. the door swung open, revealing jisung with terribly disheveled hair, not that she judged.

“ah,” he said, arms crossed, his features alight with mischief. “so you do have a death wish.”

y/n pouted. “i apologized!”

“thirty-eight minutes late,” he pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “a bold move, considering the man inside is the seungmin.”

y/n huffed, lifting the three matcha lattes in her hand. “bribery, if you will.”

jisung’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he stepped aside. “well, in that case, welcome.”

she stepped in, spotting seungmin at his desk. he barely looked up.

“you’re late.”

“i know,” y/n whined, setting the drinks down. “i had a valid reason.”

seungmin glanced at the drinks, his lips twitching. “bribery won’t work.”

“but this bribery includes your favorite matcha latte. i brought one for you too, ji!” she grinned.

jisung nodded. “compelling argument.”

seungmin sighed but grabbed the drink. “fine. you’re forgiven. for now.”

the second y/n stepped into the hallway, her eyes immediately searched for the golden fluffball.

“star!” she gasped, dramatically dropping to her knees as if she’d been away for years.

star, in all his fluffy, golden, star-like glory, perked up at the sound of her voice, tail wagging furiously.

“oh my baby—” y/n cooed, completely ignoring seungmin as she placed her tote bag down and reached for star. he excitedly trotted toward her, his tail thumping against the floor as she cupped his face and showered him with scratches.

“i missed you so much,” she whispered against his fur, her voice soft as she ran her hands over his head and back. she checked his food bowl, peeked at his bed, and gave him a homemade treat like the concerned parent she definitely wasn’t but absolutely felt like.

seungmin, watching the whole ordeal with an unimpressed expression, sighed. “are you actually here to study or just to visit him?”

“both,” y/n shot back, still petting star. “but mostly him.”

“figures,” seungmin muttered.

“good. now, time for the next part.”

seungmin narrowed his eyes. “what next part?”

y/n blinked innocently. “oh. did i forget to mention?”

seungmin stared. “excuse me?”

jisung, watching from the couch, was thriving on the dynamic. “okay, so are you guys going now or…?”

y/n stood up suddenly and grabbed seungmin’s wrist. “yep! let’s go.”

seungmin blinked. “go where—”

“no questions.”

“so you're kidnapping me now?”

“i prefer the term ‘forcefully encouraging outdoor bonding time,’” y/n corrected.

seungmin’s deadpan stare could have melted steel.

“no.”

“yes.”

jisung, delighted, grabbed a snack. “i voted yes ages ago.”

y/n huffed. “well, too bad, seung. you’re coming whether you like it or not.” she grabbed his wrist and pulled.

seungmin groaned. “i hate this already.”

“no, you don’t.”

“…no, i don’t.”

jisung waved. “have fun, lovebirds.”

“say that to my face when i come back to you and minho making out on the couch.”

“um, is privacy just a concept now???” jisung's eyes widened and he almost fell off the couch from the remark. “leave us alone!”

and just like that, she was dragging him forward, with star happily trotting beside them.

seungmin let himself be pulled (because, really, what other choice did he have?) as jisung waved them off. as they stepped outside, y/n grinned triumphantly. she was taking seungmin and star on a picnic.

call it a date, if you want to.

this was a win, either way.

the streets were alive with the hum of the noon—the soft chatter of pedestrians, the occasional honk of a distant car, the faint rustle of leaves as the wind carried whispers through the trees. the golden hour painted the world in warmth.

seungmin shoved his hands in his pockets as y/n led the way, walking slightly ahead with star. the breeze tugged at the loose strands of her hair, lifting them gently as if the wind itself were playing along. she was practically bouncing on her feet, occasionally turning back to look at seungmin with the biggest, most childlike grin ever.

he hated how cute it was. star trotted beside her, his tail wagging as he happily sniffed the air. the scent of freshly baked bread from a nearby café mixed with the subtle fragrance of damp earth, the aftermath of a brief afternoon drizzle. y/n giggled, reaching down to scratch star’s head.

“you’re such a good boy, you know that?” she cooed, her voice soft. “you deserve all the happiness in the world, my baby.”

seungmin raised an eyebrow. “i hope you know you’ve just activated his ‘spoiled prince’ mode.”

y/n shot him a look. “excuse me? star deserves to be treated like royalty.”

“he’s literally been in my dorm for one day, and he already walks around like he owns the place.”

“that’s right, baby, you’re the king. own it.”

seungmin muttered something under his breath, but he couldn’t hide the amused look in his eyes.

they turned a corner, walking past a row of small cafés. the air carried hints of roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries, the kind of scents that made everything feel a little warmer, a little cozier. y/n pointed at one of them.

“oh! that’s where felix and i go for late-night coffee runs.”

“late-night coffee runs? you mean ‘let’s see how much caffeine we can consume before death’ runs?”

“how dare you? we are simply connoisseurs of the fine art that is coffee appreciation.”

“you’re addicts.”

“you sound like aeri.”

“well, maybe aeri is right.”

“betrayal. i trusted you.”

“you trust way too easily.”

“that’s called being nice, seungmin.”

“more like being reckless.”

y/n stuck her tongue out at him. “you’re just mad because i forced you outside.”

“i am mad,” seungmin deadpanned. “i was perfectly fine at home, but no, you had to drag me into the world of socializing and fresh air.”

“fresh air is good for you.”

“no, staying inside and avoiding people is good for me.”

y/n snorted. “you are such a grandpa.”

seungmin side-eyed her. “and you are such a child.”

“and yet, here you are, following a said child to a picnic.”

seungmin sighed, looking up at the sky. “this is my life now.”

y/n just laughed, swinging their hands slightly before realizing what she was doing and immediately letting go.

seungmin didn’t say anything. they reached a quieter street, lined with trees. the golden hour made everything glow, and y/n looked at the street, eyes sparkling.

“it’s so pretty,” she murmured.

y/n suddenly turned to him, her expression soft. “aren’t you glad i dragged you out now?”

seungmin glanced at her, taking in the way her eyes shone in the golden light, the way she absentmindedly reached down to scratch behind star’s ear, the way she looked so effortlessly happy.

he sighed. “i guess it’s not that bad.”

y/n grinned. “that’s the closest thing to a compliment i’ll ever get from you, huh?”

“correct.”

she giggled, and they walked on, letting the peaceful evening carry them forward.

the park was bathed in golden sunlight by the time they arrived, the grass glowing under the warmth of the late afternoon. the blades swayed gently with the occasional breeze, casting playful shadows over the earth. the air smelled of sun-warmed leaves and the faint perfume of wildflowers that lined the walking paths. birds flitted between branches, their soft chirping blending seamlessly with the rustling of leaves. in the distance, laughter and chatter wove into the afternoon air—people jogging along the winding trails, couples lounging on picnic blankets, and children chasing soccer balls with delighted squeals.

but for y/n, it was perfect. a vast, open space. fresh air. the scent of flowers. and most importantly—star.

“finally!” y/n cheered, practically skipping onto the grass as she let go of seungmin’s wrist and crouched down.

“star! you’re free! run, my love, run!” she dramatically spoke.

the dog, catching onto the excitement, let out a happy bark and dashed across the field. his golden fur shimmered under the sunlight as he zoomed in circles, his ears flopping with every movement. the grass bent beneath his paws, tiny petals bursting into the air where he ran.

seungmin exhaled, rubbing his temples. “i feel like i’m babysitting two creatures at once.”

y/n shot him a playful glare. “excuse you. i am a fully functional human being.”

seungmin crossed his arms. “are you? because i just watched you sprint into the park like a five-year-old.”

“i am excited, seungmin! let me live!” y/n huffed, standing up straight and placing her hands on her hips. “look at him. look at my son being all happy.”

seungmin followed her gaze, watching as star excitedly sniffed around, kicking up grass with his paws. he had to admit—watching the dog so free and joyful was kind of… nice. the late sunlight glowed against star’s fur, a halo of gold against the soft green of the park.

y/n, noticing seungmin’s soft expression, nudged him. “see? this is fun. you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

seungmin scoffed. “i'll have fun when we finish our project.”

y/n gasped dramatically. “you love star. you love spending time outside with me. you just don’t wanna admit it.”

seungmin turned to her, deadpan. “i tolerate you at best.”

y/n smirked. “mm-hmm, sure, mr. ‘i secretly enjoy this but will never admit it.’”

seungmin ignored her, crouching down and clicking his tongue. “star, come here.”

star, tail wagging, instantly ran over to seungmin. y/n watched in amusement as seungmin gently patted the dog’s head, scratching behind his ears.

“wow,” y/n teased, arms crossed. “you really are a softie.”

“i am not,” seungmin retorted.

“oh, you so are,” y/n giggled, dropping down beside them. she reached out, rubbing star’s belly as he flopped onto the grass.

for a moment, the world was quiet—just the sound of birds, the occasional laughter of kids in the distance, and the rustling of leaves in the wind. and then, unexpectedly, seungmin chuckled.

it was soft—barely there—but y/n heard it.

she turned her head quickly, eyes turning into little crescents as she smiled, looking at the guy while he pet star.

“your smile is adorable, you know,”

“can we go and actually study now?” seungmin insisted, turning away.

y/n grinned mischievously. “seungmin has a pretty smile, confirmed.”

seungmin rolled his eyes. “shut up.”

“make me.”

seungmin shot her a look. “do you want me to throw you in a bush?”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

seungmin smirked. “test me.”

y/n, still grinning, turned back to star, petting his fur. she didn’t push further, but something about this moment—seungmin smiling, actually enjoying himself—made her heart feel… warm.

then, after what felt like forever of running around with star, playing fetch, and letting him explore every flower patch in sight, they finally settled under a large oak tree. the bark was rough against their backs, but the shade was cool, offering a soft reprieve from the sun’s golden heat.

seungmin stretched his legs out, pulling out his laptop. “alright. now can we actually get to work?”

y/n sat cross-legged across from him, her notebook and a takeout cup in front of her. “yes, yes, fine.”

seungmin raised an eyebrow. “you say that, but you’re still petting star.”

y/n froze mid-pat. “…okay, maybe i have a problem.”

seungmin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “you definitely have a problem.”

still, he opened his laptop, scanning through the project notes. y/n followed along—at least, she tried to. but every few minutes, she found herself glancing at star, who was now napping beside them, his head resting on her thigh. he noticed.

“y/n.”

“hm?”

“you’re not paying attention.”

y/n blinked. “what? yes, i am.”

seungmin gave her an unimpressed look. “oh yeah? what did i just say?”

y/n panicked. “uh. something about, businesses..?”

seungmin sighed. “you’re impossible.”

y/n pouted. “look, i am listening, but how can i not admire this beautiful creature sleeping on my lap?”

seungmin side-eyed star. “yeah, yeah, he’s adorable. now focus.” y/n huffed, reluctantly turning back to her notes.

for a while, they actually worked—throwing around ideas, writing down key points, and organizing their research.

at some point, though, y/n noticed the way seungmin’s brows furrowed when he was focused, how he tapped his fingers against his laptop absentmindedly. and more than once, seungmin caught y/n just staring at him.

“what?” he finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

y/n shook her head. “nothing.”

seungmin narrowed his eyes. “are you admiring me now?”

y/n scoffed. “you look peaceful when you're reading.”

seungmin just blinked. “well.. i'm reading.”

they continued working, but there was something different now—something softer in the air. subtle things.

like how y/n adjusted star’s sleeping position carefully so he’d be more comfortable. like how seungmin absentmindedly handed y/n her coffee when he noticed she hadn’t taken a sip in a while.

like how their shoulders would brush every now and then, neither of them pulling away. it was all so small, yet it lingered.

and when the sun dipped lower, when the air got a little cooler, when the world felt quieter, y/n found herself thinking—

maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

“star, come back, you little menace!” she giggled, barely able to keep up.

seungmin, standing a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, watched the scene unfold with an unreadable expression. his gaze flickered between y/n’s bright, joyful smile and the way star eagerly circled around her, tail wagging furiously.

it was ridiculous, how happy they looked together. ridiculous, and maybe a little… endearing.

star, realizing he was being chased, took that as an invitation to run even faster, his paws kicking up little tufts of grass.

“seungmin!” y/n called, breathless. “help me!”

seungmin sighed. “you brought this upon yourself.”

y/n pouted dramatically. “rude.”

still, seungmin finally crouched down and clicked his tongue, calling for star. instantly, the golden retriever skidded to a stop, his ears perking up as he sprinted toward seungmin instead.

y/n gasped, stopping in her tracks. “traitor!”

seungmin smirked as star practically crashed into him, licking his face. “i guess he likes me better.”

y/n stomped over, hands on her hips. “he does not!”

seungmin wiped his face with his sleeve. “he literally abandoned you for me.”

y/n huffed, flopping onto the grass beside him. star immediately lay down between them, tongue lolling out in content.

“fine,” she said dramatically. “maybe he likes you a little bit.”

seungmin raised an eyebrow. “wow. high praise.”

y/n stuck her tongue out at him before turning her attention back to star. she rubbed his belly, murmuring sweet nonsense as he wagged his tail in delight.

the moment was peaceful. warm. the kind of easy happiness that made time feel slower.

until—

a blur of brown and white fur came bounding toward them, yapping excitedly.

another dog, a lot smaller than star, skidded to a stop right in front of them. her fur was a mix of ginger-brown and cream, her ears flopping as she wagged her tail in excitement.

“oh?” y/n blinked, watching as the new dog sniffed star curiously.

before seungmin could react, a voice called out.

“berry! berry, you little gremlin, get back here!”

a guy—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in casual sweats—ran toward them, slightly out of breath, his australian accent quite evident. his curly hair was ruffled from the wind, and he had a charming, easygoing smile as he stopped a few feet away.

“oh man, i’m so sorry,” he said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “she just—she loves meeting other dogs.”

y/n, already grinning, waved him off. “no worries! star’s the exact same.”

the guy straightened, flashing a sheepish smile. “yeah? that’s good. she’s too friendly sometimes.” he gestured toward the excitable golden retriever, who was now playfully nudging star’s side. “her name’s berry.”

y/n gasped. “that is the cutest name ever.”

the guy laughed, clearly amused. “you think so? i was kinda worried it was too cutesy, but she looks like a little berry, so it stuck.”

seungmin, who had been standing quietly the whole time, resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

this guy is too friendly.

and y/n is too easily charmed.

“i’m chris, by the way,” the guy continued, offering a hand.

“y/n!” she shook his hand enthusiastically. “and this is seungmin.” she nudged seungmin’s arm. “say hi.”

seungmin sighed. “hi.”

chris chuckled. “nice to meet you two.”

seungmin nodded stiffly, before deciding to step back, returning to where their books were laid out under the tree.

y/n, completely unaware of the shift in his mood, continued chatting.

“so how old is berry?” she asked, scratching behind the pup’s ears.

“just over nine! she's been an amazing girl.” chris crouched down beside her, watching as berry and star playfully tumbled over each other. “she’s usually tired but still excited, though.”

y/n laughed. “oh, she's adorable. star has the energy of a child with unlimited sugar intake.”

chris snorted. “that’s the best kind, though.”

seungmin, from where he sat, clicked his tongue.

what’s so funny? what’s so interesting?

he tried to focus on his notes, but his mind kept drifting back to y/n’s voice—bright and animated as she talked to this guy like they’d known each other forever.

it was annoying. not that he cared. of course not.

except he did. a little. maybe. a tiny bit.

“seung!” y/n called suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. “come back here! your kid's making a new friend, and you’re missing it!”

seungmin sighed, shutting his laptop a little too aggressively.

when he walked back over, y/n gave him a big, innocent grin. “welcome back. did you miss us?”

seungmin looked at her. then at chris. then at the two dogs playing.

“no.”

y/n laughed, nudging him with her elbow. “liar.”

seungmin sighed, shaking his head. he hated how she could read him so easily.

chris, still petting berry, smiled. “you guys come here often?”

“sometimes, alone though. he just adopted star two days ago.” y/n chirped. “seungmin and i have a project, but i lowkey tricked him into coming here instead of the library.”

chris laughed. “genius.”

seungmin groaned. “please don’t encourage her.”

chris just grinned. “i mean, i get it. if my friend tried to make me study in a library instead of chilling outside with pups? i’d revolt.”

y/n gasped, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “seungmin! you hear that?! i am validated!”

seungmin stared blankly. “i am regretting my life choices.”

chris chuckled. “well, if you guys ever wanna do another dog hangout, berry and i are around a lot.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “here, y/n, you should give me your number. we can plan something.”

seungmin nearly choked.

y/n, completely oblivious to the way seungmin visibly tensed, beamed. “oooh, yes, of course! looks like our dogs are already friends.” she quickly typed her number into chris’s phone, and seungmin felt a very unreasonable surge of irritation.

chris stood, grinning. “cool. see you guys around!” as he walked away, berry gave star one last playful nudge before trotting off after her owner.

the moment they were out of earshot, seungmin exhaled.

y/n, grinning, turned to him. “that was fun, huh?”

seungmin raised an eyebrow. “you gave a random guy your number.”

“he’s not random! he has a dog, seungmin. that makes him automatically trustworthy.”

“that is the worst logic i’ve ever heard.”

y/n just laughed, bumping her shoulder against his. “you’re cute when you sulk, you know.”

seungmin scoffed. “i do not sulk.”

y/n just smirked. “mmm-hmm.”

seungmin rolled his eyes, but as they sat back down under the tree, watching star flop into the grass with a content sigh, he found himself almost smiling.

almost.

so with chris and berry gone, and star finally exhausted from his zoomies, seungmin and y/n settled back under the tree where their books, laptops, and coffee cups were scattered. ☆, now thoroughly worn out, plopped onto the grass with a deep, satisfied sigh, his golden fur catching the sunlight. he lay near y/n’s side, occasionally shifting to rest his head on her lap as she absentmindedly scratched behind his ears.

seungmin, on the other hand, was busy flipping through pages of notes, fingers tapping against his knee. he had somehow ended up with y/n’s pink highlighter, and though he’d never admit it, he kind of liked the contrast of bright neon ink against his otherwise meticulously organized notes.

“well,” y/n stretched, her head tilting back as she groaned dramatically, “we have two days to get this done. two. days. and i still have, like, 40% of the work left.”

seungmin glanced up. “you should be worried, but you don’t look worried.”

she grinned. “because i have you to keep me on track.”

he blinked, unamused. “i regret letting you meet my dog.”

y/n gasped. “excuse me? star was mine first.”

seungmin smirked, tapping the back of his pen against his notebook. “i literally signed the adoption papers. he’s mine now.”

y/n pouted, leaning down to rest her cheek against star’s fur. “baby, did you hear that? your so-called dad is so mean.”

star wagged his tail once but didn’t move.

seungmin scoffed, but there was something fond in the way he looked at her.

“anyway,” he said, flipping a page. “we need to get through at least two sections today if we don’t wanna pull an all-nighter before submission.”

y/n sat up, pushing her hair behind her ears. “alright, alright. time to be productive.”

for a few minutes, it was actually quiet. seungmin explained a concept, y/n listened, asked questions, and for a rare moment, she was focused.

and then— star stretched, rolling onto his back with his paws in the air.

y/n immediately melted, again.

“oh my god,” she whispered, “he’s so cute.”

seungmin closed his eyes, inhaling sharply. “y/n—”

“just look at him!” she gushed, putting her laptop aside to rub star’s belly. “how am i supposed to study when this exists?”

seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose. “you dragged me here for a study session and now you’re the one getting distracted.”

y/n pouted. “i can’t help it!”

seungmin let out a slow exhale before leaning forward to flick her forehead.

“ow—hey!” y/n rubbed the spot he’d flicked, looking betrayed.

“focus,” he said, smirking.

y/n narrowed her eyes but sighed, reluctantly returning to her notes.

minutes passed. then an hour.

despite her initial distractions, y/n actually did well. she caught up on most of the sections she had been behind on, taking notes diligently while seungmin occasionally tested her on concepts.

somewhere between paragraphs and equations, their coffee cups ran empty, and star dozed off beside y/n, his soft snores blending into the comfortable silence.

when the sunlight softened into afternoon hues, y/n stretched again, cracking her back dramatically.

“i think we actually made progress,” she said, sounding surprised.

seungmin glanced at her, amused. “you doubted me?”

“i doubted me,” she corrected. “you, on the other hand, are like an annoyingly effective tutor.”

he smirked. “annoying but effective. i’ll take it.”

she snorted.

then, after a beat, she turned to him with a softer expression.

“thanks for today,” she said.

seungmin blinked. “for… studying?”

“well, yeah,” she shrugged, “but also for letting me see star. and for putting up with my distractions.”

he glanced away for a second, pretending to focus on closing his laptop. “it’s fine. you were less annoying than usual.”

y/n gasped. “seungmin. was that… a compliment?”

he groaned. “forget i said anything.”

but y/n just giggled, nudging his shoulder.

. . .

with the study session wrapping up, y/n shut her notebook and stretched, arms reaching towards the sky as she let out a satisfied sigh.

“i think my brain is officially fried,” she declared, flopping back onto the cool grass.

seungmin rolled his eyes, finishing up his notes. “you always say that after studying for an hour.”

“that’s because my brain isn’t built for intense academic labor.”

“yeah? what is it built for?”

y/n hummed, glancing at the sky. “talking. music. daydreaming. falling in love with random fictional characters—”

seungmin scoffed. “should’ve figured.”

y/n giggled, turning to her side to look at him. “what about you? you’re a music major, right?”

he nodded. “yeah.”

“so, you like music?”

he blinked at her. “no, y/n, i hate it. that’s why i chose to major in it.”

she snorted. “okay, i get it. but like… do you just sing, or do you compose too?”

seungmin hesitated, eyes flickering to the grass as he picked at the hem of his sleeve. “…i write, too.”

y/n’s eyes widened. “wait, really?”

“that’s so cool,” she grinned. “what kind of stuff do you write?”

he glanced away, pretending to be uninterested, but there was a faint pink dusting his ears. “it depends.”

“depends on what?”

“…on the mood.”

y/n tilted her head. “like, do you write sad songs when you’re sad?”

“sometimes.”

“and happy songs when you’re happy?”

seungmin exhaled a laugh. “yeah, something like that.”

y/n hummed in thought before sitting up, crossing her legs. “can i hear something someday?”

he turned to her, eyebrows raised. “you wanna hear my songs?”

“well, yeah,” she said like it was obvious. “if you wrote them, they must be good.”

seungmin looked at her for a moment, slightly taken aback.

it wasn’t that he hid his music, but he also never had someone be this… interested.

y/n, on the other hand, seemed genuinely eager. her brown eyes sparkled with curiosity, her black curls catching the golden sunlight as she leaned in slightly.

“…maybe one day,” he finally said.

she gasped, dramatically placing a hand on her heart. “did i just get kim seungmin to agree to something?”

he rolled his eyes. “regretfully.”

y/n laughed, the sound soft and warm, blending into the lazy afternoon air.

then, after a beat, she asked, “so, when did you start writing?”

seungmin hesitated, staring at the ground for a second before answering. “…high school, i guess.”

“because you liked it?”

“because i needed to.”

y/n’s playful grin softened. “needed to?”

he sighed, leaning back on his hands. “…it was just an outlet, i guess.”

y/n nodded, understanding. “music’s like that, huh? the way it can say what words can’t.”

seungmin turned to her, surprised. “…yeah.”

for a second, they just looked at each other.

the breeze was soft, rustling through the leaves, and the golden afternoon light framed y/n’s face perfectly.

seungmin swallowed.

she was—

“…anyway!” y/n broke the silence, grinning again. “do you have a favorite song you’ve written?”

he blinked, shaking off whatever that thought was. “not really.”

“what? no way.”

he smirked. “i don’t.”

“well, what’s your most recent one about?”

he hesitated, the corner of his lips twitching. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

y/n groaned. “you are so annoying.”

“you’re the one asking questions.”

“because i wanna know you!” she huffed.

seungmin stilled.

y/n blinked, realizing how that sounded, and quickly scrambled to fix it. “i mean, like—! not in a weird way! just in a ‘we’re friends and i’m curious’ way—”

seungmin chuckled, amused at her sudden flustered state.

her face was slightly red, lips pursed, avoiding his gaze.

and he—

…was noticing too much.

clearing his throat, he glanced away, staring at star, who was now lazily sprawled across the grass, napping.

“…it was about wanting something you can’t have,” he finally said.

y/n turned back to him, blinking. “what?”

“the last song i wrote,” he said, not looking at her. “it was about that.”

y/n tilted her head. “oh…”

silence.

“…like a person.. or a thing?”

seungmin’s jaw tensed. “something like that.”

y/n’s lips parted slightly, but she didn’t push.

instead, she smiled gently. “well, if you ever wanna share, i’d love to hear it.”

seungmin glanced at her.

she meant it.

it was in the way her voice softened, the way her eyes held nothing but warmth.

“…yeah,” he muttered, looking away. “maybe.”

y/n grinned. “i’ll hold you to that.”

seungmin exhaled, shaking his head, but the corner of his lips twitched.

and as the afternoon stretched on, filled with more questions, quiet laughter, and stolen glances—

he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting.

the golden hues of the afternoon had softened into a dusky warmth, but neither of them had moved from their spot. the books had been closed a while ago, pushed aside, making way for idle chatter and occasional banter. star was still sprawled across the grass, now lazily flicking his tail in his sleep.

y/n reached for her matcha latte without thinking, bringing it to her lips as she listened to seungmin talk.

“so, basically, jisung thought he was auditioning for a singing position but it was actually for theatre,” seungmin smirked, recalling the tragic yet hilarious memory.

y/n, mid-sip, choked on her drink. “what?!”

seungmin watched as she coughed, eyes wide in disbelief.

“you’re telling me he— he accidentally signed up for a theatre audition? how does one confuse that..”

“oh yeah.” seungmin nodded, crossing his arms. “i swear, i’ve never seen him improvise so fast. he ended up just… dramatically narrating the lyrics to some song.”

y/n wheezed. “please tell me there’s a video.”

“there is.”

“i need to see it.”

“we all do,” seungmin sighed. “but it’s buried in the archives of shame.”

y/n wiped the corner of her mouth, shaking her head. “jisung is actually insane.”

seungmin hummed in agreement, watching as she absentmindedly took another sip of matcha.

it took him approximately three seconds to realize—

that wasn’t her drink.

it was his.

his eyes flickered between the cup in her hand and his own, which was still sitting untouched beside him.

for a split second, he considered telling her—maybe teasing her for it.

but instead—

he said nothing.

maybe it was because she looked so natural, holding it like it had always been hers. or maybe it was the way she kept laughing, completely unaware of the fact that she had just—

whatever.

it didn’t bother him.

which was weird.

but before he could overthink it, y/n placed the cup back down, already moving to stretch.

“i need to move,” she groaned, standing up. “my legs are gonna cramp.”

seungmin leaned back on his hands. “what, so you’re just gonna run away?”

“not run,” she corrected, dramatically dusting off her jeans. “just gonna go play with my favorite boy in the world.”

seungmin raised a brow. “i’m right here.”

“i meant star, you nerdy narcissist.”

seungmin scoffed, shaking his head as he watched her crouch beside the golden retriever, gently running her fingers through his fur.

“cute.” there was a mumble.

star blinked up at her sleepily before sighing, dramatically rolling onto his back.

y/n gasped. “oh my god. you are so adorable.”

seungmin exhaled, his gaze lingering.

there was something about the way she was—so effortlessly warm, so naturally affectionate.

the way her eyes softened when she looked at star. the way she giggled when he licked her cheek. the way she—

“…min, look!”

he blinked, snapping out of his thoughts as y/n turned to him, beaming.

“what?”

she pointed at star, who was now trying to hold her hand between his paws.

seungmin huffed out a small laugh. “yeah, yeah. he likes you.”

“like???” y/n scoffed. “loves. he loves me.”

seungmin rolled his eyes, pushing himself up from the grass and walking over to them.

as he approached, star wagged his tail excitedly, shifting his attention to him.

“see?” y/n grinned. “he loves you, too.”

seungmin crouched down, scratching star behind the ears. “obviously. who wouldn’t?”

y/n shot him an unimpressed look. “you have no shame.”

he smirked. “why would i?”

y/n groaned, flopping onto the grass dramatically.

star, thrilled by her sudden movement, barked before immediately climbing on top of her.

“wait, no—!” y/n squeaked.

seungmin stood over them, arms crossed. “this is hilarious.”

“help me, you traitor!”

he shrugged. “nah, you’re his favorite, right? deal with it.”

y/n glared at him through a mess of golden fur, breathless from laughing.

and seungmin—

he noticed it again.

the way her cheeks were flushed. the way her curls were sprawled against the grass. the way—

“…oh my god, is this your revenge?” y/n gasped.

seungmin snapped out of it. “what?”

“you planned this.” she squinted at him, grinning. “you trained star to betray me.”

he snorted. “yeah, because i totally trained a dog i adopted yesterday.”

“exactly!”

he rolled his eyes. “you’re insane.”

“thank you.”

with that, she finally managed to wriggle out from under star, sitting up and dusting off her clothes.

star happily plopped his head onto her lap, sighing contently.

y/n smiled, running her fingers through his fur.

and seungmin—

he exhaled, sitting beside them.

he didn’t get it.

didn’t understand why—

why it was so easy to be here, with her.

why it was so easy to look.

but for some reason—

he didn’t mind figuring it out.

soon, the sky had started shifting into deeper shades of indigo, the golden warmth of the sun melting into something softer, quieter. they hadn’t moved from their spot under the tree, their books still scattered on the blanket beneath them, long forgotten. star had long since worn himself out from his zoomies, only to reawaken with another surge of energy, bolting across the grass like a streak of gold.

y/n had her knees tucked up to her chest, her chin resting lazily atop them, watching the dog with the kind of fondness that made something in seungmin’s chest tighten.

“you do realize you’re going to be his favorite person for life, right?” she mused, glancing at him with a knowing smile.

seungmin, leaning back on his hands, scoffed. “he better be loyal.”

she gasped dramatically. “loyal? seungmin, that’s a dog. of course he's loyal.”

he laughed, tilting his head. “yeah?”

y/n exhaled, flopping onto her back. “yeah.”

“finally,” he hummed, shifting to look down at her, “it seems you're tired.”

she lifted a hand, flicking his forehead. “against my will.”

seungmin chuckled under his breath, rubbing the spot absentmindedly. “right. that’s why you’ve been making it your life’s mission to barge into my dorm every day like a ray of sunshine.”

y/n opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. she clamped it shut, lips pressing into a line.

seungmin smirked. “that’s what i thought.”

“you’re so annoying,” she grumbled, turning her head away.

“yet you’re still here.”

“stop repeating that!”

his laugh was warm, effortless.

the silence that followed was comfortable—easy in the way that it lingered without pressure, stretching between them as the wind stirred through the leaves above. the distant sounds of the park continued—laughter, conversation, the occasional bark—but between them, the world was quiet.

y/n was still lying on her back, her eyes tracing the deepening hues of the sky. seungmin sat beside her, his gaze naturally drawn to her profile—the soft curve of her lips, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. his hand rested against the blanket, fingers idly toying with the hem. he wasn’t entirely sure why he was still looking, but something about the way she was bathed in fading light made it impossible to glance away.

“do you ever just…” y/n’s voice was softer now, thoughtful. “feel so full of something but don’t know what to do with it?”

seungmin stilled.

“…what kind of ‘something’?”

she exhaled slowly. “like…” she turned her head, meeting his gaze. “something warm.”

his fingers curled slightly against the fabric beneath him.

warm.

he knew that feeling. he’d been feeling it this entire time.

a slow, deliberate kind of warmth. the kind that sneaks up on you and settles beneath your skin. the kind that lingers, even when you’re trying not to think about it.

“yeah,” he murmured, his voice quieter than before.

y/n’s lips parted slightly, her eyes searching his.

he didn’t know who moved first.

maybe it was her—her breath hitching as she leaned ever so slightly closer.

maybe it was him—the way his hand lifted, fingers grazing against her wrist, tentative but not hesitant.

maybe it was something neither of them could name, something inevitable. all he knew was that when their lips met, the world stopped.

it was soft at first, unhurried—like a quiet realization unfolding in real time. her lips were warm, plush, molding against his in a way that sent a slow, curling heat through his veins. he could feel the tentative way she responded, the hesitation melting away as she pressed closer. his hand moved on instinct, cupping the side of her face, his thumb brushing against the delicate skin of her cheek.

and then—

she sighed against him.

and something in seungmin broke.

the kiss deepened, slow and intoxicating, the warmth between them turning into something more. his fingers slid into her hair, tilting her head as he kissed her deeper, tasting the faint remnants of matcha on her tongue. her hands gripped his sleeves, clutching onto him like she wasn’t sure she’d ever let go.

a slow drag of lips. the slide of warmth. the gentle push and pull, like a silent conversation in a language only they understood.

she made a soft sound—a quiet, involuntary sigh against his mouth—and seungmin groaned, his grip tightening. in one swift motion, he pulled her into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around her.

she gasped against him, fingers gripping his collar now, knuckles white.

seungmin barely pulled away, his breath mingling with hers. “okay?”

y/n nodded, dazed, her lips already parting for him again.

and so he kissed her again, deeper this time, slower, more deliberate. like he was savoring it. like he wanted to memorize the way she felt against him. the warmth of her. the way her lips yielded so easily to his. the way she sighed when he angled his head just right. he was good at this—really good at this. she could feel it in the way he moved, the way he knew exactly how to kiss her like he had all the time in the world.

it was dizzying.

overwhelming.

addicting.

when they finally pulled away, y/n was breathless, her cheeks burning. seungmin exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing against her cheekbone. she looked adorable. her lips were pink, slightly swollen, her eyes half-lidded and dazed.

“wow,” she whispered.

seungmin smirked. “yeah?”

y/n blinked, nodding furiously. “yeah.”

he chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers. “good.”

for a moment, they just breathed, the weight of what had just happened settling between them.

then—

a sudden blur of gold zoomed past them. they both turned just in time to see star bolting across the grass, his tail wagging so fast it was a blur.

seungmin sighed, rubbing his temple. “of course.”

y/n, still dazed, let out a giggle, her fingers still curled loosely around his collar. “guess he approves.”

seungmin rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips twitched upward. “yeah, yeah.”

y/n bit her lip, looking down at him. her gaze flickered to his lips. seungmin caught it. his smirk widened.

“you so wanna kiss me again.”

y/n shoved his shoulder. “shut up.”

he laughed, his arms still around her. “you’re not even denying it.”

y/n groaned, burying her face into his shoulder. “shut up.”

seungmin just grinned, his fingers slipping back into her hair.

yeah. this warmth? he could get used to it.

they stayed like that for a while, tangled in the warmth of each other, the air still thick with something unnamed yet understood. neither of them moved immediately—not because they didn’t know what to do next, but because this was nice. the weight of her against him, the slow rhythm of their breaths, the way their fingers stayed lightly curled in each other’s clothes as if neither was quite ready to let go.

eventually, though, reality had to set in.

y/n exhaled, shifting slightly in his lap, her fingers still resting on the collar of his hoodie. “we should probably… y’know.”

seungmin hummed, making no move to let go. “should we?”

she narrowed her eyes, giving him a half-hearted glare. “don’t be annoying.”

he smirked. “i literally can’t help it.”

rolling her eyes, she lightly flicked his forehead before pushing herself up, and immediately regretted it. her legs were numb, her heart was still racing, and the moment she was standing, she suddenly realized—

we just kissed.

the weight of it hit her all over again, sinking into her skin, making her stomach twist in a way she couldn’t quite place. seungmin was still sitting, looking obnoxiously unbothered, like he didn’t just leave her completely breathless. she huffed under her breath, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves.

meanwhile, seungmin watched her, eyes sharp, amused. he could see the way she was avoiding his gaze, could see the way her fingers twitched, adjusting her sleeves.

it was cute.

“something wrong?” he asked, voice laced with amusement.

she snapped her gaze to him, lips parting, face slightly pink. “huh? no! why would anything be wrong?”

seungmin’s smirk widened. “mhm.”

“i—” she huffed, crossing her arms. “you’re so annoying, i swear.”

he finally stood, stretching his arms above his head before stuffing his hands into his pockets. “and yet…”

y/n groaned. “seungmin.”

he chuckled, glancing at her before tilting his head toward the scattered books. “c’mon, let’s pack up.”

she nodded, relieved for the momentary escape from the weight of that kiss. but even as they gathered their books, even as she stuffed her things into her tote bag, she could still feel it. the warmth, the way he held her, the slow press of his lips against hers.

she turned her back to him, biting her lip to keep herself from grinning like an idiot.

seungmin noticed. he definitely noticed. but he didn’t say anything.

instead, he grabbed her unfinished matcha latte—the one that had started all this in the first place. without thinking, he lifted it to his lips, taking a sip. and y/n, ever the observant one, immediately noticed.

her eyes widened. “did you just—”

he raised a brow. “what?”

“that’s mine.”

seungmin blinked, licking his lips, as if only now realizing. then, he shrugged. “you drank from mine first.”

y/n’s face turned red. he smirked.

flustered, she grabbed her bag, whistled for star, and stormed off in the direction of the dorms. seungmin let out a soft laugh before following.

. . .

the walk back was… not awkward. but not not awkward.

there was something lingering in the air between them, something unspoken, something charged. y/n found herself hyperaware of everything—the distance between them, the way their hands occasionally brushed, the sound of their footsteps on the pavement.

seungmin, for once, wasn’t teasing her.

that, more than anything, made her nervous. she risked a glance at him. he was walking with his hands still in his pockets, eyes ahead, looking as relaxed as ever. if anything, he looked… deep in thought.

“seungmin.”

he turned his head. “hm?”

she hesitated. “are you—are you being weird?”

his lips twitched. “what does that even mean?”

“i don’t know,” she groaned, hugging her tote bag closer. “you’re quiet. you’re never quiet.”

he gave her a look. “i am quiet.”

“not around me.”

seungmin exhaled through his nose, looking away. “…i guess i’m just thinking.”

y/n frowned slightly. “thinking about what?”

he shrugged. “stuff.”

she narrowed her eyes. “what kind of stuff?”

at that, he glanced at her, meeting her gaze for a moment too long. “you.”

y/n’s breath hitched. her face burned.

seungmin looked back ahead, as if he hadn’t just casually said something that made her entire body short-circuit. she opened her mouth. closed it. opened it again. closed it again.

seungmin smirked to himself. they kept walking.

by the time they reached his dorm, the air was slightly less charged, but only because y/n had started rambling about how star needed a new toy collection. she was already planning an entire schedule for star—days when she’d take him out, what treats she’d bake, whether she should get him a sweater for when it got colder.

seungmin just listened, hands in his pockets, nodding occasionally.

when they reached the door, y/n turned to him, rocking on her heels. “so… see you tomorrow?”

seungmin leaned against the doorframe, tilting his head. “you’re not barging in again?”

she pouted. “am i that annoying?”

seungmin’s gaze flickered to her lips for a split second before he smirked. “nah.”

her heart did a thing. she quickly looked away. “okay, well. goodnight, seungmin.”

“ ‘night, y/n.”

she turned, starting down the hall, feeling a little lighter. just as she reached the end, she heard his voice.

“hey, y/n.”

she stopped. looked over her shoulder. “yeah?”

seungmin shoved his hands further into his pockets. for a moment, he just looked at her. then, with a slow, knowing smirk—

“sweet dreams.” and then he shut the door.

y/n stood there. processing. then, with an exasperated groan, she spun on her heel and stormed toward her own dorm.

her face was burning. seungmin, on the other side of the door, chuckled under his breath.

yeah. this was definitely going to be fun.

soon, y/n barely had time to recover from seungmin’s stupid smirk before she opened her dorm door and was immediately met with a chorus of gasps and dramatic expressions.

aeri was lounging on the couch, legs crossed, sipping on what looked like matcha tea (as if that wasn’t already triggering enough). rina was sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, arms crossed, eyes deadly sharp. felix and hyunjin?

they were standing. right in front of her.

like interrogators. waiting.

y/n blinked. “uh—”

aeri squinted. “you’re late.”

rina narrowed her eyes. “suspiciously late.”

hyunjin placed a hand over his chest. “and you didn’t text us back.”

felix gasped dramatically, gripping hyunjin’s shoulder. “she never does that.”

y/n gaped. “never?”

aeri pointed her straw at her. “never.”

“i was busy,” y/n whined, slipping off her shoes. “i did text you guys.”

“hours ago,” rina said.

felix crossed his arms. “so where were you really?”

y/n opened her mouth. closed it. looked around at all their expectant faces.

aeri gasped. “wait.”

everyone turned to her.

she pointed. “you look different.”

hyunjin’s eyes widened. “she does.”

felix leaned in, inspecting her face. “…she’s glowing.”

“i am not—”

“you’re blushing.”

y/n clapped a hand over her face. “i am not blushing.”

rina smirked. “did something happen?”

y/n groaned, throwing herself onto the couch beside aeri. “can i please just breathe?”

“no,” aeri said.

felix gasped again, grabbing hyunjin’s arm dramatically. “wait—what if—”

“what if she kissed seungmin?” hyunjin finished, eyes gleaming.

y/n choked. “what—”

“she totally did,” rina gasped.

aeri sat up, pointing. “you so did.”

felix clapped his hands. “we knew something was happening between you two!”

“i—no you did not—”

“we totally did,” hyunjin argued. “seungmin has never let someone drag him out for picnics.”

aeri wiggled her brows. “did you finally kiss, you slow-burn idiots?”

y/n smacked a cushion over her face. “i hate you all.”

“she’s not denying it.”

rina snorted. “so? how was it?”

“excuse me?”

felix and hyunjin jumped onto the couch, both of them pressing closer.

“be honest,” felix whispered.

“was he good?” hyunjin asked.

“did he—” aeri leaned in, smirking. “use tongue?”

“oh my god—”

. . .

meanwhile, in another part of the building, seungmin finally stepped into his dorm, tossing his bag near the door. he expected peace. silence.

maybe jisung playing some dumb mobile game and minho scrolling on his phone. instead..

the moment he closed the door, jisung and minho—sitting side by side on the couch—turned to look at him in perfect unison.

seungmin paused.

jisung raised a brow. “you’re late.”

seungmin exhaled. “oh my god, not you too.”

minho sipped his coffee. “he seems unusually… relaxed.”

seungmin narrowed his eyes. “and?”

jisung smirked. “you never come back relaxed.”

seungmin rolled his eyes, moving toward the fridge. “you guys are annoying.”

jisung gasped. “minho. minho. look at him.”

minho hummed. “i see it.”

seungmin turned. “see what?”

jisung grinned. “you got some, didn’t you?”

minho smirked. “i knew you liked her.”

seungmin groaned, running a hand down his face. “you both need to shut up.”

jisung sat up, eyes gleaming. “you did kiss her, didn’t you?”

seungmin exhaled, grabbed a water bottle, and took a long sip.

minho raised a brow. “he’s avoiding.”

“he’s totally avoiding.”

seungmin sighed, leaning against the counter. “i hate both of you.”

jisung grinned. “we love you too.”

minho smirked, setting his cup down. “so? how was it?”

seungmin scoffed. “what is wrong with you people?”

jisung gasped dramatically. “you didn’t like it?”

seungmin froze for half a second.

jisung smirked. “ohhh, you totally did.”

minho nodded, smug. “he liked it.”

seungmin rolled his eyes. “shut up.”

jisung grinned, leaning back. “it’s okay, you can tell us. we don’t judge.”

minho nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. “we definitely judge.”

seungmin exhaled. “i hate you both.”

jisung smirked. “we know.” . . . “so…” rina wiggled her brows. “you’re seeing him again tomorrow?”

y/n groaned, collapsing onto the couch. “i see him everyday.”

felix smirked. “because you love him.”

y/n choked. “i do not—”

hyunjin held up his hands. “we’re just saying.”

aeri snickered. “you so do.”

y/n grabbed a cushion and screamed into it.

her friends just laughed.

meanwhile, back in seungmin’s dorm, minho stretched, setting his cup down. “so, what now?”

seungmin shrugged. “dunno.”

jisung smirked. “you gonna kiss her again?”

seungmin grabbed his pillow and chucked it at him.

jisung yelped.

minho snickered.

seungmin just leaned back against the couch, arms crossed, watching jisung groan into the pillow.

he would kiss her again.

he absolutely would.

but they didn’t need to know that.

yet.

“not like you two didn’t kiss or do each other while you had the dorm to yourself.”

minho didn’t even blink.

jisung, however. jisung choked on his own breath.

minho exhaled. “ah.”

minho took another sip of his coffee, unbothered. “he has a point.”

jisung spluttered. “excuse me?”

seungmin smirked. “you’re telling me you guys were alone for hours and did nothing?”

minho shrugged. “not my fault if he’s loud.”

jisung died. “i was not loud.”

minho hummed, setting his coffee down. “mm. sure.”

seungmin snorted. “see? it’s so obvious.”

jisung clutched his chest. “i hate you both.”

minho stretched. “no, you don’t.”

jisung threw a pillow at him.

seungmin just sat back, grinning, absolutely enjoying this.

jisung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “i hate my life.”

minho patted his head. “that’s okay. i love you.”

seungmin smirked. “aw.”

jisung screamed into his hands.

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[vettelsvee]

letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win

(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm

V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭

WORD COUNT: 3958

WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.  

Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.  

"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"  

Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.  

"Yeah," was all he could say.  

"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.  

"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.  

"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"

Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.  

"Hey… I have something for you."

Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.  

Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.  

"Open it… I hope you like it!"

Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.  

"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.  

Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.  

"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."

You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.  

Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.  

Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.  

"Oscar…" 

"Y/N…"

"I want to do it."

Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.  

"Bebe…" 

"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."  

Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.  

Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.  

"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…" 

"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."

"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.  

You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.  

"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”

"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.  

"I promise, really."

Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.  

Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.  

You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.  

Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.  

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"

"I will, yeah."  

You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…  

*"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.  

"I love you too, Y/N…" 

With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.  

Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.  

Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.

Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.

“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.

“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“So...?”

“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.

“Y/N…”

“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”

You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.

“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”

Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.

“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.

His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.

“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.

That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.

“Y/N…”

His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you. 

“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”

“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”

“Do you promise me, love?”

“I swear.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.

Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.

When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.

“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.

“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.

He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.

You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.

It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.

“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”

And so you did.

Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.

The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.

“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”

“Oscar, don't…”

“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”

After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance. 

You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.

·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”

You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.

He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.

“Y/N…”

“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”

The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.

“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”

“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”

“Never for you, sweetheart.”

Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.

“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”

“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.

·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”

You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.

You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.

“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”

“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you. 

Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths. 

“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”

It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.

“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.

You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.

“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”

“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.

“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”

Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.

“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”

The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.

·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.

“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.

You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.

“You don't have to…”

“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”

Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.

When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.

“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”

“Was it good?”

Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder. 

”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”

You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.

“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”

Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.

“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”

[aidansloth]

Late Nights On Kitchen Floors Sometimes Lead To Confessions

Summary: You come home late one night to find your roommate Jason sobbing on the kitchen floor.

Warnings and A/N: some negative self-thoughts on Jason’s side. In this fic Jason is feeling a lot of feelings :) because we love our men crying and traumatized. Pre-relationship! This is my first time writing for Jason so I hope I did him justice. Written in the second person, gender neutral reader, I tried to make reader as inclusive as possible so if I missed something please let me know! JUSTKNOW that my heart broke while writing this. (final note, I wrote this at 4am so don’t judge me)

Words: 0.9k

I also posted this on ao3 if you want!!

Click

You secure the last of the locks on your door as you start to take your boots off along with your coat. Immediately as you stepped in your mind went into autopilot, following your routine so effortlessly that only after what was definitely too many seconds do you notice a heaving sound coming from your kitchen. 

“Jason?”

The words leave your mouth with a tinge of hope that it was just him and not a break-in you’d have to deal with at this ungodly hour in the morning. You check the time with a flick of your phone. 2:14am. 

You receive no response and reach for the bat Jason insisted you left hidden in the umbrella stand. You can never be too safe were his exact words and you’d honestly have to thank him if you made it out tonight. It’s only when you cross the door that you see him: Jason and all of his 6 feet of muscles are scrunched up into a wavering ball, his hands clutching his clothes and his head planted into his knees. All this time you’ve known him and yet he has never looked as vulnerable as he does now, on your dusty crumble-covered floor with tears in his eyes. 

At first no words come out of your mouth, how could they? You’ve talked to Jason just a couple of hours ago on your phone, he called saying he just wanted to hear your voice. He was fine earlier. He was. He asked how your day was. He listened, hanging off your every word. But now here he was in front of you, a broken shell of a man.

Trying to not startle him you get closer and call out his name again. This time he hears you.

He lifts his head and you can see smudged tear stains all over his face probably from an attempt to erase them. An hiccup escapes him and your heart breaks. 

“Oh baby,” you scooch in front of him and take his face in your hands. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

He can’t speak. The words are jabbed in his throat, threatening to suffocate him. He opens his mouth but nothing other than a strangled sound comes out. You start petting his hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine, you don’t have to say anything alright?” 

You settle on the floor and try to maneuver his body onto yours, his head on your shoulder. His body adapts to yours, his arms wrap around you and he feels like everything is going to be alright. One of your hands runs up and down his spine in a soothing manner while the other is nestled in his hair. 

A couple of minutes pass and you’re still holding him. Jason thinks he likes it. Being held, that is. 

After some more time his head lifts from your shoulder and your hands move to his forearms, caressing the skin there. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before speaking.

“I, ehm…” Jason’s gaze lays low and his hands start to play with yours. “I have to tell you something.” 

You nod and tell him to take his time. He bites his lip, still looking down. 

“I- Fuck, I messed this up. I really did. This was gonna be so much more romantic I swear. I was gonna- I was gonna invite you to that one bookstore we always go to, I was going buy you all the books you set your eyes on and- and I planned a walk through the park- the one- the one you like-” his voice keeps breaking and hiccuping, “-and walk through the flowerbeds and maybe if the day had gone well I would have had the courage to hold your hand.” he wipes a tear off his face with the palm of his hand. 

You try to speak but he speaks first.

“I like you. I really really like you. I wanted to do this well, tomorrow, but- I don’t know. I got too much in my own head and I’m-” Jason bites his lip and tears fill his eyes again, “I’m really sorry this is how I confess, you deserve so much better, so much better and I’m a mess and, and-” you grab his face and force him to look at you. 

“Jason Peter Todd, you listen to me carefully.” his big teary eyes look at your stern ones, “The only reason I’m not kissing you right now is because you deserve a beautifully romantic first kiss because you like beautifully romantic things. You deserve all the wonderful things this world has to offer.”

Jason thinks his heart has never felt so warm. 

“Wha-what?”

His words make you giggle and now he thinks his heart might actually implode. 

“I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Now your giggle turned into a proper laugh which made Jason smile. 

“Yeah, that was pretty obvious from the earlier declaration of love.” Now he’s giggling too. 

“Does that ehm- does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?” You giggle again at the innocence in his voice and Jason thinks he’d die all over again just for a chance to hear you laugh one more time.

“Yes, yes it does. Only if you take me to that date you were talking about though.”

He smiles. “We could go now.”

Your eyes widen. “Now? At 2am?”

He shrugs. “I’m Red Hood. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

You scoff. “Yeah alright, but I think the bookstore might be closed.”

“Ah. Right. Tomorrow then.”

“Eager?”

His smile only gets bigger. “Duh, I have a girlfriend to take out.”

Thank you for reading!! Constructive criticism/advice is always welcome!

[jzprncess]

the neighbor effect

pairing : oscar piastri x reader

oneshot

word count : 9,449

summary : Y/N moves to Monaco for a fresh start, thinking it’s just gonna be her, baking, and figuring things out. Then there’s her neighbor, Oscar—super chill, always around, but completely mysterious. They bond over cookies and muffins, and Y/N has no idea that he’s actually a Formula 1 driver. But when the Monaco Grand Prix weekend rolls around, everything goes haywire when Y/N realizes she’s been living next to someone way more famous than she ever imagined. Between all the confusion, a surprise kiss, and the chaos that follows, Y/N’s not sure if she’s in over her head—or if she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

note : i had to rewrite parts of this over and over again. this is my longest fic so far, lets clap it up. i actually cooked with this one, please like it.

────୨ৎ────

Moving to Monaco in the middle of December sounded a lot more glamorous in theory. In reality, I spent my first night huddled under three mismatched blankets, seriously debating whether the heating in my shiny new apartment was broken or if this was just what Mediterranean winter felt like.

I’d moved here for a fresh start, something about leaving old baggage behind and stepping into the next chapter of my life. Except no one tells you that starting over often means spending a lot of time alone, wondering if you made the right decision.

That’s how I found myself in the hallway on my second day, struggling to carry a too-large box labeled Kitchen Stuff & Regret. I hadn’t realized how much I’d overpacked until I was halfway to my door, my arms trembling under the weight.

“Need a hand?”

The voice startled me, and I nearly dropped the box. I turned to see a guy standing a few feet away, wearing a black hoodie, gray joggers, and a curious expression.

“Uh, no, I’m good,” I lied, immediately regretting it as the box tilted precariously.

“Right,” he said, clearly unconvinced. Without waiting for permission, he stepped forward and took the box from me like it weighed nothing.

“Show-off,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but smile.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Just being neighborly.”

“Thanks,” I said as he followed me to my door. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Oscar,” he replied, setting the box down inside my apartment.

Up close, I could see he was probably around my age—early twenties—with sharp features and an easy confidence about him. He glanced around my half-unpacked living room, taking in the mess of boxes and furniture.

“Just moved in?” he asked.

“Yeah. Trying to figure out where I want everything before I give up and let chaos take over.”

He smiled, nodding toward the box. “Well, good luck with that. I’m right across the hall if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I said, leaning against the doorframe as he stepped back into the hallway.

“See you around,” he said with a nod before disappearing into his apartment.

And just like that, I had my first real interaction with the mysterious neighbor across the hall.

After he left, I stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at the closed door across from mine like it might open again. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. With a shrug, I kicked the box into the living room, officially declaring it a problem for Future Me.

The next few days were a blur of unpacking, assembling furniture, and discovering that Monaco in December was a lot colder than I’d prepared for. Gone were my delusions of sipping coffee on the balcony in the morning sun. Instead, I huddled inside, bundled in my coziest hoodie, and watched the world outside through the frost-slicked windows.

Oscar, true to his enigmatic vibe, was nowhere to be seen. A part of me wondered if he was some kind of ghost who only materialized to save clumsy new neighbors and then vanished into the ether. But his sporadic comings and goings proved otherwise—sometimes I’d hear the ding of the elevator late at night or the faint shuffle of footsteps in the hallway. I never caught him, though.

Until one particularly cold Saturday morning.

I was juggling a steaming mug of coffee, my phone, and a box of garbage bags as I headed for the trash chute at the end of the hall. The scene was already precarious, but things got worse when my phone buzzed with a notification. I glanced down instinctively, and that was my fatal error.

One wrong step, and my foot caught on absolutely nothing because I’m just that talented. I stumbled forward, my coffee cup slipping from my grasp in a glorious slow-motion arc.

“Oh, sh—”

A hand shot out, catching the cup mid-air.

“Impressive,” came the familiar voice.

I turned, my face hot with embarrassment, to see Oscar standing there, coffee cup in one hand and an amused smirk on his face. He was in the same casual uniform as before—hoodie, joggers, and sneakers—but this time with a beanie pulled low over his head.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I said, trying to play it cool despite the very uncool way I’d almost face planted.

“You’re welcome,” he said, handing me the cup.

“How do you keep showing up exactly when I’m about to embarrass myself?”

“Great timing, I guess,” he replied, leaning against the wall.

I could tell he was holding back a laugh, which only made me more flustered. “Do you just hang out in the hallway waiting for me to trip over thin air, or…?”

“Caught me,” he said, deadpan. “It’s my new hobby.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Well, thanks for the save… again.”

“No problem.” He glanced down at the garbage bags I’d dropped in the chaos. “You planning to carry all that to the chute by yourself, or should I brace for round two of Disaster Neighbor?”

“Ha, ha,” I said, handing him a bag. “Since you’re offering, you might as well help.”

third pov

By the time they made it to the trash chute, Y/N had successfully recovered from her near wipeout—mostly. Oscar, on the other hand, seemed far too amused by the whole thing.

“So,” she said, trying to fill the silence as they walked back to their apartments. “Do you just live in the gym, or are you naturally good at catching falling objects and lifting heavy things?”

He shrugged. “Bit of both.”

“Not much of a talker, huh?”

He glanced at her, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I talk when there’s something to say.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Mysterious and vague. Classic.”

They stopped outside her door, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence. She fiddled with the sleeve of her hoodie, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were standing.

“Well, thanks for the help. Again.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone casual but warm.

She opened her door, stepping inside. As she turned to close it, she caught him glancing down the hallway, like he was debating something.

“See you around?” she offered.

“Yeah,” he said, meeting her gaze. “See you around.”

The door clicked shut, and Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She leaned against the door for a moment, her mind replaying the interaction like a movie montage.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And for now, that was enough.

y/n’s pov

It all started with a craving and a little too much confidence.

Baking had always been my go-to for stress relief, but I tended to overestimate how much one person could realistically eat before things got weird. Case in point: the mountain of oatmeal walnut cookies currently cooling on every flat surface of my kitchen.

“Great job, Y/N,” I muttered, surveying the sugary battlefield. “Really nailed the whole moderation thing.”

The smell of warm cinnamon and toasted walnuts was amazing, but even I had limits. Unless I planned on eating cookies for every meal for the next week—which, tempting as it sounded, probably wasn’t the move—I needed a plan.

That’s when my eyes flicked toward the door across the hall.

My neighbor hadn’t been home much, but when he was, he seemed nice enough. And if anyone looked like they could put away an entire batch of cookies without breaking a sweat, it was the guy who casually caught flying coffee cups and lifted trash bags like they were empty.

Grabbing a plate, I stacked a neat pile of cookies on it, covering them with foil. I debated for a second, wondering if this was too random, but then I thought, What’s the worst that could happen? Worst case: no one’s home, and I keep the cookies. Best case: I earn brownie points—or, well, cookie points—with the mysterious dude across the hall.

Balancing the plate in one hand, I opened my door and stepped into the hallway.

third pov

Y/N hesitated in front of Oscar’s door, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet the hallway was. For all she knew, he could’ve been halfway across the world. But before she could talk herself out of it, she raised her free hand and knocked lightly.

There was a pause, long enough for her to start retreating, but then she heard the lock turn.

The door opened to reveal Oscar, looking a little rumpled but still effortlessly put-together in a hoodie and sweats. His hair stuck up slightly, like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Uh, hey,” Y/N started, holding up the plate like an offering. “I, um, baked too many cookies and thought… maybe you’d want some?”

For a second, Oscar just blinked at her. Then a small smile tugged at his lips, softening his usual stoic expression. “Cookies?”

“Oatmeal walnut,” she said, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous. “Unless you’re allergic to walnuts. In which case, I’m so sorry, and I’ll just—”

“I’m not allergic,” he cut in, stepping aside. “Come in.”

y/n’s pov

I followed him into his apartment, still holding onto the slightly awkward feeling of standing at someone’s door with a plate of cookies. His space was immaculate—like a showroom. Sleek black counters, stainless steel appliances, and not a single thing out of place. My own apartment, with its half-unpacked boxes and cluttered surfaces, suddenly felt like a war zone by comparison.

“Wow,” I said, glancing around. “Your place is… ridiculously clean. Do you live here or just visit?”

He smirked as he placed the plate of cookies on the counter. “I’m not here much. It’s easier to keep clean when you’re gone half the time.”

“Fair,” I said, leaning against the counter as he peeled the foil off the plate. “Meanwhile, my place looks like I’m hoarding cardboard boxes and random piles of clothes. Maybe I’ll just hire you to organize for me.”

He glanced up, an amused glint in his eye. “I’ll pass. But thanks for the offer.”

I laughed. “That was fast. I didn’t even get to bribe you with more cookies.”

“Speaking of,” he said, picking one up and turning it over in his hand like he was inspecting it for quality control, “what made you bake… this many?”

“Stress,” I admitted, crossing my arms. “Unpacking is the worst. Plus, I’m a chronic over-baker. I think I made about sixty.”

He raised an eyebrow, taking a bite. “Sixty?”

“Give or take.”

“You know there’s only one of you, right?”

“That’s why I’m here,” I said with a grin. “I figured I’d share the wealth.”

He nodded, chewing thoughtfully. After a moment, he swallowed and said, “These are good.”

“You’re not just saying that, are you? Be honest.”

“I’m serious,” he said, reaching for another. “If I didn’t like them, you’d know.”

“Good to know you don’t sugarcoat things,” I said. “No pun intended.”

“Sure it wasn’t,” he said with a small smirk.

I rolled my eyes but smiled. “You’re lucky I like honesty. Anyway, I hope you’re hungry because I’ve got a whole army’s worth of these across the hall.”

“I can tell,” he said, grabbing a second cookie. “You ever thought about selling these?”

“Selling cookies? No, not really,” I said, a little flustered by the compliment. “I mean, it’s just a hobby.”

He leaned against the counter, taking another bite. “Could be a profitable hobby.”

“Oh yeah? Think I could make it big with oatmeal walnut cookies? Maybe I’ll start a cookie empire.”

“Could be worth a shot,” he said, his tone completely serious, though I could see the hint of humor in his expression.

“Alright, well, if I go global, I’ll make sure to mention you in my TED Talk about chasing my dreams,” I said with a laugh.

“Appreciate it,” he said, deadpan.

I shook my head, still smiling. “Alright, I should get going. Don’t want to interrupt your… whatever you were doing before I showed up.”

He glanced toward his living room, where a laptop sat open on the coffee table. “Wasn’t doing much. Just catching up on some things.”

“Well, now you’ve got cookies to keep you company,” I said, pushing off the counter.

“Thanks for these,” he said, walking with me toward the door. “They’re seriously good.”

“Anytime,” I replied. “And if you ever need more… or, you know, want to start organizing my apartment, just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, opening the door for me.

I stepped into the hallway and turned back to face him. “Enjoy the cookies, Oscar.”

“Thanks, Y/N. See you around.”

As the door clicked shut behind me, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. It was such a simple interaction, but it left me feeling lighter somehow—like I was finally settling into this new life, one cookie and awkward conversation at a time.

third pov

The morning light streaming through the kitchen window felt different today, like a fresh start. Y/N stood at the counter, stirring a bowl of banana bread batter with a slight smile on her face. She had a steady rhythm, something she had found comfort in since moving to Monaco. Today, however, was different. She wasn't just baking for herself or because she had nothing else to do.

After dropping off the cookies to Oscar yesterday, she’d felt an odd rush of excitement. Oscar hadn’t said much—just thanked her and ate them right there—but there was something in the way he seemed genuinely happy that had sparked an idea in her head.

Maybe I should actually consider this...

She’d been thinking about it all night, the thought gnawing at her in the quiet moments before sleep. A job. Something more than just living off her savings while she figured out what to do with herself. The idea of working in a bakery, helping people start their day with something sweet, didn’t sound half bad. Maybe she’d make some friends along the way, too.

She paused mid-stir to glance around her kitchen. It was quiet—too quiet. Her move to Monaco had been a whirlwind, and while the city was beautiful, the loneliness had crept in unexpectedly. She had only met Oscar three times, and those encounters hadn't been enough to spark a friendship, though he had been kind enough to compliment the cookies she’d given him. But she still didn't have his number. She had no way of reaching out to him for anything beyond another casual greeting if their paths crossed again.

With a sigh, she refocused on her muffin batter. The oven was preheated and ready for the batch of banana muffins she had planned. She didn’t even need the muffins for herself—she simply needed something to do.

She scrolled through a few ads on her phone for bakeries and cafes around Monaco, her fingers flying across the screen as she filled out application after application. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the start of something new.

The smell of ripe bananas filled the room, and Y/N smiled. There was something simple and grounding about baking. She didn’t need anyone else to validate her, but a small part of her wished she had someone to share the muffins with. Maybe she would take a batch to one of the cafes she’d applied to, just to show that she could bake more than just cookies.

The timer went off, signaling that the muffins were done. She pulled them from the oven, their golden tops warm and inviting. As she arranged them on a cooling rack, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a step in the right direction.

Oscar’s casual suggestion about working at a bakery had lingered with her since yesterday. She hadn’t really considered it before, but now, with a fresh batch of muffins in hand, it felt like the right time to take action. She’d send some applications today, maybe stop by a few places, and see where it led.

Even if it was just a way to get out of the apartment, maybe it would help her feel a little less alone.

After a few hours of cleaning up and putting away the last batch of muffins, Y/N sat on her couch, scrolling through her phone. She had sent a few applications and gotten a couple of quick responses asking her to come in for interviews. The thought made her feel lighter, like she was moving in the right direction. But, as she scrolled through her messages, she found herself wondering about the cookies she'd given Oscar yesterday.

What if he didn’t even like them? she thought for a second, gnawing at her lower lip. She had never done something like that for a neighbor before. It was a little… weird. But then again, they had barely talked, and she'd barely known anyone here. He probably just thought it was some random act of kindness, nothing more.

Still, she couldn't help the little spark of excitement that lingered in her chest.

With the muffins cooling on the kitchen counter, Y/N decided to go for a walk to clear her head. She tossed on her coat, scarf, and gloves—layers that were necessary with the December chill in the air—and left her apartment. The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city settled into the crisp stillness of a cold winter evening.

As she made her way down the narrow streets, her breath puffed out in little clouds in front of her. The air was freezing, her fingers cold against her gloves, but the walk felt necessary. It was good to get out, especially with how cooped up she had been lately. The familiar feeling of solitude wrapped around her as she passed by boutique storefronts with their windows adorned for the holidays, the twinkling lights reflecting off the damp cobblestones.

She stopped at one of the cafes, the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries pulling her inside. The door closed behind her with a satisfying jingle, and the warmth hit her face immediately. She smiled, relieved to be out of the cold.

“Coffee?” the barista asked as she walked up to the counter.

Y/N nodded, pulling off her scarf. "Please. A hot cappuccino, if you’ve got it."

The barista gave her a warm smile as she prepared the drink, and soon enough, Y/N had a steaming cup in her hands. She found a small corner table by the window and sank into the chair, basking in the warmth of the café. It was a cozy little spot, the kind where time seemed to slow down.

She stared out the window as the temperature outside dropped even further, the last few people hurrying by in layers of coats and scarves. The city felt almost otherworldly, peaceful and cold, a strange mix of quiet stillness. Y/N took a sip of her cappuccino and leaned back, letting the warmth seep into her bones.

It was then that she heard the door open again, a jingle sounding through the cafe. She glanced up, her eyes scanning the new arrivals. Her gaze landed on the familiar figure—Oscar, her neighbor, walking in with his coat zipped up tight against the cold.

He spotted her right away and waved with a grin. "Hey, Y/N!" he greeted her.

Y/N smiled back, a little surprised to see him here but pleased. “Hey, Oscar. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, I just needed a quick coffee break,” he said, walking up to the counter. He ordered something quickly, then turned back toward her. “How’s your day been?”

She shrugged, feeling a little shy now that they were actually talking. “Good. Just baking and applying for some jobs,” she said, gesturing to her cup. “Needed to get out for a bit. It's freezing out there.”

Oscar nodded, his expression sympathetic. “I know what you mean. It’s cold enough to freeze your breath. I was just out getting some stuff for my place.”

The small talk felt comfortable, and Y/N found herself a little more relaxed with him standing there. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy—just a neighbor.

“Well, it’s nice to see a friendly face,” she said, smiling. “Monaco's a little lonely for me right now, to be honest.”

Oscar smiled back. “I get that. I moved here for work, and it's not always easy to adjust. You’re not alone, though. Everyone here’s pretty friendly.”

Y/N appreciated the sentiment and nodded, taking another sip of her drink. “Thanks, Oscar. It’s good to know.”

As he grabbed his coffee, Oscar gave her a wave before heading to a table by the window. Y/N returned to her thoughts, a warm feeling lingering in her chest. They hadn’t exchanged more than pleasantries, but something about the simple, easy conversation made her feel a little less isolated.

Y/N took another sip of her cappuccino, her eyes still lingering on Oscar as he settled at a table by the window. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a weirdly comfortable interaction, like one of those moments where you just feel like you clicked with someone—even if it was just casual banter about the cold.

And then, as she sat there thinking about how chill the whole thing had been, something inside her clicked.

A rush of confidence hit her like a wave. She wasn’t gonna sit here thinking about it for another second. She stood up, grabbed her cup, and made her way over to Oscar’s table like she owned the place. No hesitation. She slid into the seat in front of him without asking, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin.

“Well, well, you’re sitting so far from me. I was just telling you how lonely I was, and here you are, acting like you’re too cool to sit with me,” she said, eyebrow raised, voice teasing.

Oscar blinked in surprise for a second, clearly not expecting her to come over. But then he chuckled, clearly amused. “Wasn’t trying to be rude. Just thought I’d give you some space.”

“Oh, no space needed,” Y/N shot back, pretending to think for a second. “But if you want, I did make some banana muffins. 25 of them, actually. So, uh, you can have some later, I guess… if you’re lucky.” She leaned back, her tone playful.

Oscar’s grin spread wider, and Y/N could swear she saw his eyes light up a little at the mention of food. “Banana muffins, huh?” he said, leaning forward in his seat, the playful energy between them clear. “You’re really trying to tempt me, huh?”

Y/N smirked. “Maybe. Maybe not. I guess you’ll have to find out later.” She took another sip of her cappuccino, looking around the cozy café for a moment before her eyes landed back on him. “So, what’s your story, anyway? Besides buying coffee and sitting by windows, I mean.”

Oscar leaned back in his chair, clearly comfortable now. “Not much to tell,” he said casually. “Just trying to survive this cold. What about you, Y/N? What’s your deal?”

Y/N just shrugged, feeling more at ease with each passing second. “Oh, you know, baking muffins, trying to find a job, avoiding getting too lost in the city…” She shot him a quick look. “Honestly, though, Monaco’s a little weird, but I’m getting used to it. It’s quiet, but not the fun kind of quiet.”

Oscar nodded, his smile softening. “I get that. I felt the same when I first moved here.”

They both sat there for a few seconds, enjoying the unexpected company in a way that felt surprisingly easy for a random Tuesday afternoon.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, letting the conversation with Oscar flow naturally as they both sipped their drinks. The winter air outside had only gotten colder, but the warmth from the café made it all feel like the perfect backdrop for the two of them to talk.

“So,” Y/N began, her eyes catching his, a sudden boldness hitting her again. “Since you’re clearly not going to accept my muffin offer until later, how about we do something else next time? You know, before I leave Monaco to escape all the cold?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Escape the cold, huh? Where would you even go?”

Y/N shrugged, tapping her cup with a playful grin. “Maybe I’ll find a place that has better heating. Monaco’s nice and all, but a little more sunshine wouldn’t hurt.”

“Fair point,” Oscar chuckled. He paused for a moment, then looked at her with that signature, easygoing smile. “I could show you around sometime, if you wanted. Monaco’s got some hidden gems.”

Her heart gave a little skip at his suggestion, but she played it cool. “I’d like that. But I’m not one for getting lost in tourist traps, so it better be good.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not taking you to the usual spots,” he said, leaning back slightly, amused. “I promise. You’ll actually see some of the cool stuff here.”

She smiled, feeling the conversation shifting toward something a little more personal. And then, almost as if it was the next step, Y/N caught herself hesitating, but quickly brushed it off. “Well, if we’re going to plan that, we should probably exchange numbers. You know, in case I want to text you to stop you from taking me to any tourist traps.”

Oscar reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He handed it to her without a second thought.

“Good call,” he said with a teasing grin. “Here you go.”

Y/N took the phone and entered her number, her fingers flying across the screen. She handed it back to him with a smirk. “There. Now you can’t ghost me when I ask for your ‘hidden gem’ suggestions.”

Oscar laughed, saving her number with a nod. “Not planning on ghosting. I’ll make sure you get to see all the cool spots in Monaco.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink, the buzz of the conversation still lingering between them. It felt weirdly easy, and she liked that. “Alright then. It’s a date,” she said with a wink.

“Not sure if it’s a date,” he teased, “but I’ll take it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the connection between them feeling a little more real. “Fine, not a date,” she replied, “but when it happens, I’ll hold you to that promise.”

few months timeskip

Over the next few months, Y/N and Oscar settled into an unspoken rhythm. They didn’t see each other often, but when they did, it felt easy. Whether it was quick coffee breaks at the café or a casual text exchange about the best banana bread recipe, they managed to keep in touch.

Oscar, as expected, was always on the move. Y/N had asked him once what he did for work that kept him jet-setting around the world, but his response had been vague. Something about traveling for events and having a packed schedule. She didn’t push for more details, assuming it was some high-level corporate gig or freelance work that required constant relocation. Either way, she didn’t mind. They had their moments, and that was enough for now.

As for Y/N, she had settled into Monaco in a way that felt almost surreal. After a few weeks of relentless job hunting, she’d landed a position at one of the coziest bakeries in the city. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was exactly what she needed—a place to bake, to create, and to lose herself in the comforting scent of fresh bread and pastries.

Her days were now filled with kneading dough, piping frosting, and experimenting with new recipes. The bakery had its quirks, from the slightly eccentric owner who insisted on playing 80s pop music all day to her coworkers who ranged from quiet and reserved to downright chaotic. Somehow, it all worked. Y/N found herself laughing more, learning more, and slowly but surely, calling Monaco home.

Outside of work, Y/N was finally starting to build a life for herself. Some of her coworkers had become fast friends, dragging her out of the kitchen and into the buzzing nightlife Monaco had to offer. From late-night drinks at chic rooftop bars to dancing under neon lights at clubs tucked away in narrow streets, Y/N found herself embracing a side of life she hadn’t tapped into before.

It was one of those rare free days where Y/N could relax and enjoy the slowly warming Monaco weather. The gentle breeze carried in through the slightly cracked window, and the temperature hovered at a perfect 65 degrees—just cool enough to make the indoors cozy but warm enough to remind her that summer was around the corner.

Her kitchen counter was a controlled chaos of melted chocolate, parchment paper, and a vibrant pile of freshly washed strawberries. She’d decided on a whim to make chocolate-covered strawberries—a light, summery treat that felt perfect for the day. At first, it had been fun, methodically dipping each strawberry into the glossy chocolate and adding a drizzle of white chocolate for flair. But somewhere along the way, she’d gotten carried away.

When she stepped back and looked at her work, she let out a soft laugh. “This is... way too many strawberries,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. She grabbed one and took a bite, the sweetness of the strawberry perfectly balancing the richness of the chocolate.

As she finished the last one, her gaze fell on a smaller bowl she’d unconsciously filled. Without thinking, she began packing it up to bring to Oscar. It had become second nature by now—whenever she baked, she always set some aside for him. But as she made her way to the door, bowl in hand, she paused.

Her mind caught up to her actions, and she froze, staring at the door. “Wait... he’s not even home,” she muttered, groaning softly. Of course, she knew Oscar was traveling. He always was. So why had she automatically prepared something for him like he’d just be next door?

She stared at the bowl, her cheeks burning as the realization hit her. “Oh my god, I miss him,” she whispered to herself, the words making her cringe as they left her lips. She set the bowl down on the counter and groaned louder, pressing her hands against her flushed cheeks.

The thought swirled in her head, undeniable now that it had surfaced. She liked him—more than as just her friendly, quiet neighbor. She liked him in a way that made her heart race and her brain short-circuit.

She groaned again and began pacing the room. “No, no, nope. I am not catching feelings for a guy I barely know,” she muttered. But even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. They’d been building something—small moments of connection over the past few months that had left her looking forward to every knock on the door or text message.

With a huff, she grabbed her phone and typed out a quick text:

y/n : when are you coming home??

She hit send before she could overthink it, tossing the phone onto her couch and flopping down beside it. The May breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of spring flowers, but Y/N couldn’t shake the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “This is going to be... complicated,” she muttered to herself, covering her face with her hands.

Y/N’s phone dinged, cutting through her spiraling thoughts. She sat up quickly, snatching the device from where it had landed on the couch. Her heart did a little flip as she saw Oscar’s name pop up on the screen. She unlocked it to read his response:

oscar : I’ll be back in like 2 weeks but only for a bit—what’s up? 👀

She stared at the message, a small smile tugging at her lips. Of course, he’d throw in the eyeball emoji—it was such an Oscar thing to do, always mixing casual with a bit of humor.

For a moment, she debated how to respond. She couldn’t just say, Oh, nothing, I just made too many chocolate-covered strawberries and realized I might like you—that would be mortifying. Instead, she opted for something neutral, a safe middle ground:

y/n : Oh, no reason. Just wondering! Hope it’s not too hectic for you.

As soon as she hit send, she groaned softly, leaning back against the couch. That was a lie, but what else could she say? She put her phone down and rubbed her temples, trying to ignore the sudden burst of warmth in her chest. Two weeks wasn’t that long, right?

Still, the thought lingered in her mind: she’d never been this excited for someone to come home before.

two week timeskip

Two weeks had passed in a blur, the days slipping by faster than Y/N anticipated. The Italian Grand Prix had wrapped up over the weekend, and Monaco was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming race. The city had been transforming in preparation—barricades going up, streets morphing into a circuit, and the harbor becoming a sea of luxury yachts.

Y/N hadn’t seen or heard much from Oscar since his text, but she’d been counting down the days. He’d said he’d be home this week, and while she wasn’t exactly waiting by her door, she had taken it upon herself to have some baked goodies ready. Just in case.

A tray of brownies sat cooling on her counter alongside a tin of lemon cookies, and she was busy wiping down her kitchen counters when a knock echoed through her apartment.

Her first instinct was casual curiosity—probably her neighbor asking to borrow something or the package delivery guy. Without overthinking, she grabbed a towel to dry her hands and headed to the door, opening it mid-yawn.

And there he was.

Oscar stood on the other side, casual as ever in a hoodie and jeans, his hair slightly messy, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His expression was warm, a soft smile playing on his lips as he raised a hand in greeting.

“Hey,” he said, his voice calm, like it hadn’t been two weeks since they last spoke.

Y/N blinked, gripping the door frame for a second. She’d spent days prepping treats for his arrival, imagining this exact moment, and now her brain decided to freeze. “You’re here?” she blurted, as though he wasn’t standing directly in front of her.

His smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “Yeah, I figured I’d drop in unannounced. Hope that’s cool.”

She shook off her surprise, stepping aside to let him in. “Uh, yeah, obviously. Come in!”

Oscar stepped inside, glancing around her apartment like he always did, his eyes eventually landing on the counter full of baked goods. He raised an eyebrow and gestured toward it. “You bake for me, or is this just, like, an everyday thing?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she quickly shut the door. “I mean... maybe a little of both?” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “I wasn’t sure when you’d show up, so I figured better safe than sorry.”

He laughed, dropping his bag by the couch. “You’re unbelievable. You know that, right?”

“Is that a thank-you?” she teased, crossing her arms with a smirk.

Oscar plucked a cookie off the tray, taking a bite and humming dramatically. “That’s me saying you’re way too nice to me. This is amazing, by the way.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips anyway. Seeing him standing there, relaxed and happy, filled her with a warmth she didn’t quite know what to do with.

Oscar finished the cookie and grabbed another without asking, leaning casually against her counter like he belonged there. “So, what’ve you been up to? Still baking up a storm every day?”

Y/N smirked, grabbing the tray of brownies and cutting them into perfect squares. “Pretty much. Got to keep the bakery stocked and the bills paid somehow. Plus, it’s Monaco—people are weirdly obsessed with pastries here. Speaking of, how was Italy? Or wherever you were this time?”

Oscar hesitated, his chewing slowing down. “Uh, yeah. Italy was... busy. Lots of... work.”

She raised an eyebrow, catching the slight awkwardness in his tone. “Work? You’re always traveling for this mystery job of yours. You must be a spy or something.”

His laugh came a little too quickly, and he avoided her gaze by grabbing a brownie. “Yeah, something like that. I’d tell you, but then I’d have to... you know.” He made a mock gun gesture with his fingers, winking playfully.

Y/N snorted. “Very convincing. Totally not suspicious at all.”

Changing the subject, Oscar gestured toward the goodies she’d prepared. “You’re going to spoil me, you know that? Showing up with treats, stocking your place with more of them... You’re setting a dangerous precedent.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Y/N teased, nudging him gently as she carried the brownies to a tin for storage. “I only bake extra when I’m bored.”

“Or when you miss me,” he added, grinning mischievously.

Her hands froze for a split second, her cheeks heating up as she quickly turned back to the brownies. “In your dreams,” she muttered, but the way her voice wavered slightly made him chuckle.

Oscar didn’t press further, instead grabbing a glass of water and perching on the armrest of her couch. “So, the monaco grand prix coming up,” he said casually.

“Yeah, the whole city’s already turning into one big construction zone,” Y/N replied, plopping down onto the couch next to him. “Feels like everyone’s losing their minds over it. What’s the big deal? Is it, like, a festival or something?”

Oscar blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before quickly recovering. “Uh, yeah, kind of. It’s... a big event. Happens every year.”

She nodded, leaning back into the cushions. “Well, hopefully, it’s not too crazy. Are you staying for it?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “At least for a bit. But it gets hectic, so I might disappear again.”

“Classic Oscar,” Y/N said with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?” he countered, nudging her with his elbow.

“You are,” she admitted, glancing over at him. Their eyes met briefly, and for a second, the air between them felt heavier, like something unspoken lingered just beneath the surface.

Before she could dwell on it, she cleared her throat and stood up. “Anyway, brownies are cooling, cookies are packed, and now you have snacks for however long you’re staying.”

Oscar smirked, leaning back and stretching his arms behind his head. “And here I thought you just liked having me around.”

Y/N grabbed a pillow from the couch and lightly tossed it at him. “Don’t push your luck.”

He caught the pillow effortlessly, laughing. “Fine, fine. But seriously, thanks. It’s nice being back. Even if it’s just for a bit.”

Her smile softened, and she nodded. “Yeah. yeah.”

The evening carried on in easy conversation, the kind of flow Y/N had come to enjoy when Oscar was around. He had a way of making the hours slip by without her even realizing it.

At some point, she found herself sitting cross-legged on the floor while Oscar took up most of the couch, recounting a chaotic story about a “work trip” that involved a delayed flight, a misplaced bag, and someone accidentally ordering 40 sandwiches. He was animated as he spoke, using hand gestures and exaggerated expressions to emphasize every twist and turn.

“So, there I was,” Oscar said, his voice growing serious, “stuck with 40 ham and cheese sandwiches at 3 a.m., wondering if this was some kind of cosmic punishment.”

Y/N burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as tears formed in her eyes. “You’re kidding. Please tell me you ate at least one.”

“Of course, I did,” he replied, grinning. “I ate five. And then I passed out on a bench because there was nowhere else to sit. Absolute rock bottom.”

Y/N shook her head, still laughing. “You live such a weird life. Sandwich catastrophes at 3 a.m. while traveling the world for your super-secret job? Must be exhausting.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, it’s a lot sometimes. But I guess I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

There was something in his tone, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that made her pause. She wanted to ask more, to dig deeper, but she hesitated. She didn’t want to ruin the lighthearted mood.

Instead, she grinned and teased, “Well, if you ever need someone to help you through another sandwich crisis, you know where to find me.”

Oscar laughed, tossing a couch cushion at her. “Noted. You’re officially on my emergency sandwich team.”

The sound of their laughter filled the room, and for a while, everything felt easy and uncomplicated.

A little later, after the plates were cleared and the leftovers tucked away, Oscar stood by the door, his duffel bag back in hand.

“Thanks for letting me crash your evening,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Crash? Please, I basically invited you the second I opened the door,” Y/N replied, smirking.

He smiled, lingering for a moment. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, leaning against the doorframe opposite him. “Don’t forget to grab some of the cookies on your way out. And the brownies.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to fatten me up or something?”

“Maybe,” she teased. “It’s part of my evil plan.”

He chuckled, reaching out to ruffle her hair before stepping into the hallway. “See you soon, Y/N.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N stood there for a moment, her heart fluttering in a way she wasn’t quite ready to admit.

The week passed quickly, the anticipation of the Monaco Grand Prix hanging in the air. The city was buzzing with energy, but Y/N kept herself busy at work, focusing on perfecting her recipes and keeping her mind off the person who had quickly become a constant presence in her thoughts.

But no matter how busy she kept, she couldn’t help but wonder when she’d see him again—and if things between them would ever shift into something more.

As the Monaco Grand Prix loomed closer, Y/N found herself noticing the increased buzz around the city. Banners and posters for the event were plastered on every available surface, and crowds started trickling in. Y/N had no idea what all the fuss was about, aside from the fact that everyone seemed excited.

Oscar had been texting her throughout the week, and she’d been looking forward to catching up with him again. She was in the middle of prepping a new batch of pastries when she heard a familiar knock on her door.

“Hey,” she greeted, opening the door to find Oscar standing there, looking casual in a tee and shorts, clearly just back from a training session.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, stepping inside. “How’s it going?”

“Busy as always,” Y/N said, wiping her hands on a towel. “But I’m managing. The bakery’s been crazy with all the tourists. You’d think I was selling gold instead of cookies.”

Oscar chuckled. “Yeah, Monaco gets a little nuts this time of year.” He glanced around, then looked back at her with a grin. “You know, with the Grand Prix coming up, I was thinking—you should totally come with me this weekend. I’ll be around, and I could use some company. I’m pretty sure you’ve never seen anything like it.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not sure what he meant. “The Grand Prix? What is that, like, a huge concert or something?”

Oscar blinked, surprised by her response but quickly recovering. “Uh, no, not really. It’s... um, a big race.”

“A race?” Y/N echoed. “Like cars?”

“Yeah, like super-fast cars,” Oscar explained, trying not to laugh. “Formula 1 cars. It’s kind of a big deal around here.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait, so this race is happening in the city?”

“Yep,” he said, nodding. “And it’s one of the biggest races of the season. You should come check it out. It’s a whole experience.”

She hesitated for a moment, trying to process the idea. “I mean, sure, why not? I could use a little break from the bakery chaos. But I’m warning you, I’ll probably get lost in the crowd or something.”

Oscar grinned, clearly pleased. “I’ve got you covered. You won’t get lost, I promise. Plus, I’ll introduce you to a few people, show you the ropes. It’ll be fun.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a little bit nervous but mostly excited. “Okay, okay. I’m in. This better be worth it though. I still don’t quite get why people are so obsessed with fast cars but... I’m trusting you on this one.”

Oscar laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it once you see it. It’s kind of... a big deal.”

Y/N chuckled along with him. “Alright, Mr. Big Deal. I’ll be there. Just try not to get too race car driver on me while I’m there, okay?”

Oscar flashed her a teasing grin. “No promises.”

grand prix weekend

As Y/N walked toward the spot where she and Oscar had agreed to meet, her eyes wandered over the bustling atmosphere of the Monaco Grand Prix. The crowds, the cameras, the fancy cars, and the buzz of excitement around every corner... it was a lot to take in. But then her gaze landed on something that made her stop in her tracks.

A massive banner stretched across the track, featuring none other than Oscar Piastri. His face was larger than life, his cool expression and trademark cap making him look effortlessly slick.

Y/N blinked twice, then rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. But there it was, Oscar in full glory, with the words "Oscar Piastri: Formula 1 Driver" plastered across the banner in bold letters. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt her stomach drop.

She stared at it, mouth slightly open, her brain short-circuiting as the pieces finally clicked together. “Wait… Oscar? Formula 1? That Oscar?” She repeated the words in her head like a mantra, trying to wrap her brain around it.

Her eyes darted from the banner to the people around her, and suddenly everything clicked in a dizzying rush:

Oscar Piastri... was a famous Formula 1 driver.

That meant—wait, no—that meant she had been casually baking cookies, banana muffins, and chocolate-covered strawberries for someone who was literally famous?! She had been living next door to a real-life celebrity and hadn’t even known it?? And… she was actually crushing on him?

Her mind was doing a full-on loop-de-loop. How had she missed this? How did she not realize that this guy who always wore cool clothes, who was constantly traveling, who had fans… was the same person she’d been baking for like it was no big deal? Was this… was this a dream?

She started internally panicking. What do I do now? She had been baking for a guy who was in the public eye—what did that even mean for them? Did she just like someone who everyone else liked too? Is that even a thing? Was she seriously living next door to someone who raced for real in Formula 1?! She was losing it.

At that moment, she felt like she might spontaneously combust from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Her stomach flipped, and she had to press a hand to her forehead, trying to keep it together. “Oh my god, Y/N. Get it together,” she whispered under her breath.

Just as she was trying to regain her composure, she spotted Oscar coming into view, looking effortlessly cool as usual, his sunglasses perched atop his head as he walked toward her. His face broke into a grin when he saw her.

“Hey, you okay?” Oscar asked, noticing the slightly shell-shocked look on her face. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Y/N blinked a few times, forcing herself to smile, but her mind was still reeling. She barely managed to get out a normal response. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, her voice a little too high-pitched for her own liking. “Just… uh, just saw something… interesting.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, looking at her with mild curiosity. “Interesting? What did you see?”

Y/N panicked for a second. She couldn’t tell him she just discovered he was basically famous and was now spiraling over it, right? She gave herself a quick mental shake. “Uh, yeah, just, uh, a banner,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the giant image of him from earlier. “And, um… I just realized that… I, uh, live next to someone famous. Which is, like… wild.”

Oscar blinked, clearly not expecting that response. “Ohhh, yeah, that’s a thing. I mean, you’ve been living next to a race car driver. That’s gotta be weird, huh?”

Weird didn’t even begin to cover it, but Y/N just laughed, even though it sounded a little forced. “I guess? It’s just... a lot to process. You really are famous, huh?”

Oscar chuckled at her expression, clearly amused. “You could’ve asked, you know. But yeah, I guess I am,” he said casually, as if being on giant banners was just part of his daily routine.

Y/N groaned, feeling a rush of heat on her cheeks. “I feel like such an idiot,” she muttered, half to herself.

Oscar laughed, clearly oblivious to the full extent of her internal freakout. “Nah, you’re good. I’m just glad you’re here. Let’s enjoy this whole thing together.”

But Y/N could barely focus on anything except the fact that she had been baking for someone famous. This was too much.

As they continued toward the track, Y/N’s thoughts swirled in a thousand directions. She liked him, but now she had to figure out how to deal with the fact that she liked someone who was literally in the spotlight. Was it even okay to have a crush on someone who had so many eyes on him? She didn’t even know what to do with that knowledge yet.

And as they entered the paddock, Y/N had a feeling this weekend was going to be a lot more intense than she ever expected.

Y/N had barely been able to wrap her head around the fact that she was actually sitting in the heart of the action—inside Oscar’s team’s box in the garage, watching the practice and qualifying sessions unfold in front of her eyes.

Oscar had been in and out, prepping for his runs, chatting with the team, and making sure everything was in top condition. He had that natural, focused energy about him, and it was hard to look at him without being amazed by how effortlessly cool he was under pressure.

Y/N, on the other hand, was absolutely blown away by everything. The speed of the cars, the noise, the sheer intensity of it all—it was like nothing she had ever experienced. The walls of the garage were lined with equipment, the hum of activity filled the air, and people were buzzing about with headsets and clipboards, all focused on their roles. But even with all the chaos, Y/N's attention kept drifting back to Oscar.

“Don’t worry, I won’t crash,” he joked, noticing the look on her face as he grabbed his helmet and prepared to head out.

Y/N managed a nervous laugh, trying to calm the fluttering feeling in her chest. “You better not,” she teased, though she was pretty sure it was more for her own peace of mind than anything else.

Oscar shot her a grin before heading out to the car, and Y/N couldn’t help but watch with wide eyes as he slipped into the cockpit. The cars revved to life, the unmistakable sound of the engines vibrating through the garage. Oscar’s car was a blur as he took off down the track for his first practice lap.

She couldn’t help but feel a weird mix of awe and pride. That’s Oscar, she thought, barely able to keep her jaw from dropping. He was out there on the track, racing like it was second nature. The guy who had been chilling in her kitchen, eating cookies, was now doing something so epic, it didn’t even seem real.

As Oscar tore through the circuit, Y/N’s eyes stayed glued to the monitors in the box. His lap times popped up in front of her, and she felt a nervous, excited energy pulse through her. She didn’t know much about Formula 1, but she could feel the intensity of it all.

“Look at him go,” she muttered to herself, completely captivated by the raw speed and precision. It was like watching someone glide on air—only way faster, and way more intense.

The minutes flew by, and soon enough, Oscar’s car zipped back into the pits, and he jumped out, helmet off, a grin on his face. Y/N couldn’t help but smile back, her heart racing in sync with the adrenaline of the day.

“You’re amazing,” she said as he walked over, still catching his breath from the run.

Oscar gave a modest shrug, though the grin never left his face. “It’s all in the details,” he said with a wink. “But, yeah, it feels pretty good.”

Y/N shook her head, still processing how cool the whole thing was. “You’re insane,” she laughed, feeling a mix of admiration and a bit of disbelief at the whole experience.

Oscar leaned against the garage wall, looking at her. “You’ve got the best seat in the house, you know?”

She smiled, feeling her chest tighten at the compliment. “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m actually here. It’s… it’s all a bit much, honestly.”

Oscar chuckled. “Well, get used to it. You’ll be seeing a lot more of this.”

Y/N just nodded, still wide-eyed. There was so much she was still processing—how she’d gone from living next to a normal guy to sitting in a garage at the Monaco Grand Prix watching him race. It was wild. And somehow, incredibly thrilling.

Then, without any warning, Oscar took a small step closer to her. The next thing Y/N knew, his hand was on her cheek, pulling her into a kiss that was both unexpected and electric.

She froze for a split second, her eyes wide in shock. Her heart pounded in her ears. It was quick, but it was enough to send a wave of dizziness through her. The kiss was soft, lingering just a moment longer than she could’ve imagined, before Oscar pulled back with a mischievous smile.

Y/N stood there, stunned. Her heart was racing, and her mind was reeling. The cameras around the garage had caught the whole thing, and within seconds, a replay flashed across the monitors, broadcasting the moment live for all to see.

Oscar’s grin widened, clearly aware of the reaction. “Guess I’m full of surprises,” he teased, his voice low, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N blinked, still processing what just happened. Her cheeks were burning. “What the—”

But before Y/N could say anything else, Oscar's grin grew wider as he looked up at the screen. "Well, that's gonna be on TV now, huh?"

Y/N's eyes snapped to the monitors, and her stomach dropped. The kiss, clear as day, was playing across the screens for everyone to see. Her face turned beet red.

"Seriously?" Y/N muttered, still trying to process it. "That just... happened. On TV. Wow."

Oscar chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, that’s out there now. You good with that?”

Before Y/N could answer, she leaned in, surprising him with a kiss. It was quick but full of impulse, a way to make things feel less chaotic and more... real. When she pulled away, she didn’t flinch or apologize—she just gave him a small grin.

Oscar blinked in surprise for a moment, his lips curling into a grin. “Guess you weren’t planning on waiting, huh?”

Y/N shrugged casually, unfazed. “Guess not.”

Oscar let out a low laugh, his eyes never leaving hers. “No going back now.”

Y/N shook her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Guess not."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey @alex-wotton @ssarqhxo @rainy-darling @mymilkshakefun @hs2016 @linnygirl09 @akulici

[hotchnersangel]

SPORTS CAR

Aaron Hotchner.

a/n: obsesseddddd w this song and Hotch recently soooo… first upload pls don’t judge me ok ily

warnings: allusions to sex, age-gap, richhhh hotch (yummy), idrk what else just enjoy.

Seeing the bau in casual clothing felt foreign, it was such an odd feeling to see the professionals you spend majority of your hours in the day with less professional and more… humane. More so with Aaron Hotchner, the teams unit chief. Goddamn was he a vision in his suits, but my god, you never knew how much you needed to see him in jeans.

The bau had planned a day out together, to create some time and memories not involving horrific crimes. They arranged to meet at Rossi’s mansion and so thats where you were, gathered outside chatting to Em and Rossi when a sleek all black sports car rolls into his driveway, you eye it skeptically, expecting Morgan to appear but when it stops and you see who gets out, you freeze.

Aaron Hotchner, in jeans, like you were, strolling up to the group of you. Rossi and Emily whistling as he neared, pressing the lock button without even looking. The breath was knocked out of your chest, damn that was hot. His sunglasses perched perfectly on his face.

“Damn Hotch, sweet ride.” Emily praises, gawking at the car.

“Thank you,” he says courteously, nodding at her.

“I think i need some of this pay check you’re getting,” you joke, smirking at him. He looks so very rich right now.

“We don’t have a large difference, darling.” He shoots nonchalantly, crossing his arms as he stands opposite you.

“Honey,” you shoot back giving him a look, “I certainly don’t have the disposable income for this baby.” You admire the car.

“I can give you a ride later if you’d like,” he shrugs casually, “I’ll drop you home.”

You agree, no way are you declining a ride involving Hotch.

After a lovely evening spent with the team, you were content and happy with the outcome of your day. Though you couldn’t stop thinking about Hotch, every time he spoke, everytime he laughed, when he smiled you had to squeeze your thighs together subtly. The evening drew to a close and Aaron continued his offer to give you a lift home.

You walk out of Rossi’s mansion and follow Hotch to his car. He opens the door for you. “After you, ma’am.”

You bite your lip as you get in, looking around at the luxurious interior which somehow even felt humble despite this car being worth more than your apartment probably. “I feel extra luxurious today. A mansion, a sports car, i could get used to this.”

He smirks as he gets in, turning the engine on. “The FBI has clearly been doing well this year.” He jokes and you huff a laughter.

“I never thought you were the type for a sports car,” you say, looking over at him. He looks back.

“How come?” He implies, his hand on the gears, making you salivate a bit more than usual. “Hm?”

“You just- you’re so rich and you never show it.” You shrug, looking how dangerously close his hand is to your thigh.

He laughs, genuinely laughs. “It was my dream car as a kid, I thought if i could buy at least one thing for selfish reasons- it can be this.”

“Damn right, it’s hot.” You say boldly.

“The car? Or me?” He smirks and catches your eye again as he pulls into a drive through. “See, I’m keeping humble.”

“You.” You breathe out and look as he enters the drive through.

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks you with a smirk.

You order your meals and sit in the parking lot, an isolated lot but he still parks in the shadows. You sit and eat your meals, occasionally looking over at Hotch who keeps stealing dips from your sauce. One time however, he spills it on the seat of your chair.

“Fuck, Hotch.” You panic, getting ready to apologise.

“No worries, I’ll get it cleaned.” He says calmly, counteracting your panic.

“But-“

“It’s literally my mess, sweetheart.” He gives you a pointed look and smirks.

“Well, now i have to sit in the sauce.” You shoot sassily and he smirks.

“There’s hardly anything on it.”

“Yeah there is,” you point at it and shift in your seat. “Guess we will have to share one seat.” You smirk at him, his eyes darkening.

“We can share one seat, honey.” He moves his food out of the way, patting his lap. You smirk as you climb over the centre console and straddle his waist, resting all your weight on your knees. His hands grip your waist and slowly make their way to your face, sensually dragging over your sides. Your knees go weak, losing all composure which makes you drop onto his lap. Your core touching his. At this, you both let out a sigh.

“Fuck.” You sigh, moving your hands to his chest. “Cute jeans by the way.” You smirk at him.

“Thank you.” He nods curtly, pulling you closer.

You arch your back until you’re close to his ear. “Take mine off me.”

You pull back, biting your lip. His eyes widen with surprise at your boldness, but soon fade into a large smirk as his hands move into your hair. “You want this?”

You nod desperately, not meaning to come across so needy. “For a while.”

“Me too, baby.” He says pulling you closer to him and brushing his lips against yours. The kiss started soft and emotionally connected but soon turned passionate. His hands move over your spine and then back into your hair, pulling it into a ponytail then tugging at it. This action made you gasp into the kiss where he then let his tongue slip into your mouth.

You both pull away for some air and he looks up at you, “you wanna do this here?”

You bite your lip and nod. “I don’t care, in the alley, in the back- in the center of a room, with all of these windows rolled down.”

He looks up at you, pecking your lips. “And which would you prefer, darling?”

“Boy, don’t make me choose.” You retort, giving him a look and he pulls you closer by your top.

“I’m far from a boy darling,” he looks into your eyes.

“Show me then.” You retort.

He pulls you back into a kiss, his hands falling down your back, groping at the skin until they fall on the lower side and push you forwards, his hands resting on your behind, occasionally groping at the skin. You let out a small moan into the kiss and he stops.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He mumbles but doesn’t move.

“Have you got a girlfriend or something?” You shoot back, concerned to his answer at the positioning of you over his hardened crotch and the tight grip he has on your ass.

“No.”

“So you ain’t got no Mrs? What is holding you back then?” You ask, whispering in his ear again and placing a kiss on his neck. He sighs at the feeling.

“I’m your boss.” He says and you kiss his neck again.

“Mhm,” you hum into his skin and you gently suck at the skin.

“I’m almost double your age.” He states, and you don’t pull back but more desperately lapse your tongue on the skin.

“Carry on…”

“It’s inappropriate.”

“I sure hope it is.” You giggle against his side earning a stifled laugh.

“I’m serious. I think you just think you want this, but you won’t actually.” He says seriously.

“Yet your hand is still groping my arse.” You say looking at him. “I think you wanna…” you trail off and roll your hips over his, grinding against his clothed erection.

You both let out a strangled moan, realising how much you are in need of this.

“Unless… you wanna do it on your own while you’re looking at me.” You look up at him innocently and flutter your eyelashes.

You’re cut off by Aaron’s hands desperately pulling you closer and certainly there was a few rounds in this ride for you both.

————————

[hidden-poet]

Poison: part 3

Summary: Coriolanus always hated Sejanus Plinth. He had everything that Coriolanus should of had; money, influence, and you.

Warnings: Coryo being de-lu-lu, unrequited love, Reader insert, dark!Coriolanus snow, unedited, dead dove to not eat

Word count: 9,832

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 3

Part 4 coming

Comments and asks welcomed!

 Coriolanus sat on the train to District 12. 

Something compelled him to bribe the clerk for a ticket to district 12. 

He wondered if Lucy-Gray would still be alive?

Would they kill her for his mistake? 

If he wasn’t hopeful that he could get himself out of this mess and back to you, he would have killed himself. 

The shame of it all was too much. He couldn’t even look Grandma’am or Tigres in the eye while he explained the circumstance he now found himself in. He felt as if he had failed them. 

He knocks his head against the cold, hard glass. Watching as his surroundings sped past him. 

The door was heard as it opened, but Coriolanus didn’t stir from his self-pity, sure it was another recruit just passing through. 

When he heard Sejanus’s voice it startled him

“I thought I might find you here”, his old enemy spoke with a grin. 

“Sejanus, what are you doing here?” 

He rises from his seat, watching as Sejanus in a peacekeeper uniform came forward with a duffle bag.

He gazes back at the door with his heart in his throat. If Sejanus had brought you along to district 12, Coriolanus was sure to kill him where he stood. 

But the door never reopened. You were safe back in the Capitol.

“Are you kidding me? After I found out where they were sending you I couldn’t get here quick enough”.

Sejanus throws his bag on the floor and takes a seat across the table. Coriolanus joins him with his questions. 

“What about y/n? Did you break up”, Coriolanus asked too quickly and with too much hopefulness in his voice. 

“No”, Sejanus’ coy smile angered Coriolanus greatly, “No. we are engaged. 

Coriolanus swallows his rage to force out a “Congratulations”. 

“Thank you. Yeah, you know. I figure I get through basic, and become a medic. They allow third year medics to bring over family, give you a house on base instead of sharing a dorm with twenty other men. We can carve out a better life for us out here”.

“You plan to bring her here? To the districts. Are you insane? They are savages here”.

“They are desperate people. People in need of help. Y/n and I have a real chance of making a difference out here, like you told me I could do”. 

Coriolanus’s hands balled into fists. He hadn’t meant to get you tangled up in Sejanus' misled fantasies. He only wanted to get out of the arena. 

“If you think I am going to let you bring her here, you are mistaken”. 

As soon as Coriolanus got his hands on a piece of paper he was going to write to your father, and tell him of the plan. He properly didn’t even know of the engagement. 

Sejanus laughs as if it was a joke. As if Coriolanus wasn’t imagining jumping across the table and pounding his face in. 

“I know you want the best for her, Coryo. So do I. You’re a good friend, but y/n can make her own decisions, and she has chosen to follow me to district 12”. 

The word ‘friend’ made Coriolanus’s ears hot. He was not a friend. Not to Serjanus. Not to you. Still his composure was his strength. He had to wait until the time was right. He couldn’t have you thinking he was jealous. Jealousy was weak. 

If your father had already disowned you due to the news of the engagement, he would have no further cards to play. He would figure out a way to keep you in the Capitol, but it started with staying in the loop of information. 

“Be careful, Sejanus. It’s a different world out here. One where you can’t buy your way out of trouble.”

Coriolanus looks to the window, sure if he spent any more time looking at Sejanus his fists would fly before he could stop himself. 

“Ah come on, man. Don’t give me grief. I’ve come all this way for you. Why are we talking about my girl, when we should be talking about yours? The girl you risked everything for is just at the end of these train tracks”.

His girl, the one he risked everything for, was back in the Capitol, engaged to his enemy. 

Coriolanus was sure he was going to kill Sejanus, but faked agreement. 

—-----------

You would write Sejanus letters every week. Pages, and pages on how much you missed him. How you wore the ring with great pride, and never take it off.

You never mentioned the kiss. Never asked about Coriolanus. He wondered if you had told Sejanus or decided to keep it as a secret. 

He liked the idea of you having a secret with him. Something that only you two shared.He thought back to the kiss often, wondering what he could have changed that would have stopped you reacting the way you did. But what did it matter? The outcome would have been the same.

His fate was sealed when his father made enemies with Dean Highbottom. 

Late at night Coriolanus would break into Sejanus’ locker to read your letters. He would sit under the moonlight, pretending that the letters were written for him. He would pen one back in his mind. 

He thought about sending you a real letter, but what would he say? I love you. Don’t marry Sejanus. 

It seemed too little now. 

He trained hard. Much harder than Sejanus. 

He was desperate to be picked for officer training. From there he could make his way back to the Capitol faster than Sejanus could earn the privilege of bringing you here. 

When he pushed his body to the limits during training, and remained studying while the other men captured what little joy they could. He thought of returning to the capitol while Sejanus was stuck in this living hell. 

It would be hard not to fall in love while your boyfriend was in a different world. 

Coriolanus would do everything with you, naturally as your only friend. You would feel terrible having rejected him just moments before he was shipped off. Maybe even regret it. 

It would happen slowly and naturally. One day you would just wake up and realised you were in love with coriolanus. 

It would break Sejanus' heart certainly. But Coriolanus had suffered in silence for years. It was his turn. 

He would figure out money at a later date. An officer makes a decent wage, but not enough to afford you the lifestyle you deserve. That Grandma’am and Tigress deserved. 

It was a hurdle he would jump through when the time came. First he had to survive district 12. 

He was yet to see any of it. The Compound was locked down tight. You had to earn the privilege of time off. Not that Coriolanus had the desire to see any of it, or even take a break from his study. 

But he had wished that Sejanus would be further away at times. 

He followed Coriolanus around like a shadow. Swapping chores and assigned placements to be near Coriolanus at all times. 

The only benefit of Sejanus’ friendship was Ma’s cooking. She would send packages of sweet treats each week. 

It made Sejanus popular among the cohort. Coriolanus would always get first pick being Sejanus’ closest friend. 

Having been fed three meals a day and Ma’s sweet treats, Coriolanus gained healthy weight. 

He found himself being able to focus better and his energy flourished. 

He would return to a changed man, but you hoped you would still be the same woman. 

His mind focused on you as he pushed his body to the duties of a Peacekeeper.

Sejanus would talk of you which helped. Mostly things he had already read in the letters you send for Sejanujs, but sometimes he would derail and offer a piece of  information Coriolanus never knew. 

It made Sejanus slightly bearable. His presence is less insufferable when he is useful. 

Still being followed everywhere was starting to grate on Coriolanus. 

He walks fast to try and shake Sejanus, but the young boy takes it as a challenge to keep up even with his damaged knee. 

He complains about the superior officers while Coriolanus races across the yard to return his patrolling uniform so he could return to his bunk and study for the officer test. 

The gray uniform was heavy with padding, and his helmet was like a rock in his hand. It added to his irritation as Sejanus squawked in his ear about things he didn’t care about. 

His mind floats to you and what you could be doing. He imagines you shopping for a new dress, and then going for lunch in the Capitals best restaurant, where he would be sitting there patiently waiting for you. 

When he heard your voice in his ear, at first he thought he dreamt it, but he would never dream of you calling Sejanus name over his. 

He whips in the direction of the sound to see Sejanus already sprinting to the fence. 

You stood behind a tall wire fence that separated the Peacekeepers section from the nurses and doctors. You wore the dreadful blue nurses uniform with a white patch across the left side of your breast that stated ‘Junior nurse’. 

With no makeup or jewelry and with your hair tied back into a ponytail, you looked pale and undressed.

He stared at you in disbelief but you never spared him a glance. 

Sejanus throws himself into the fence in front of you, attempting to hold what he could of you. The fence separated your bodies, so intertwining your finger through the gaps was as close as you could get. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?”Coriolanus could hear Sejanus ask in a tone of disbelief that spoke of his surprise. 

Coriolanus moves over to the fence line to hear the reason too. Still half shocked that you were really here. 

“What about your family? Your dad?”, Sejanus pesters. Both very good questions. 

Did they even know you were here? Could Coriolanus work with your father to get you back to the Capitol where you belong?

You shake your head at him

“It doesn’t matter” you say, “All I have is you now, okay?”. 

Sejanus laughs giddily at your words, but Coriolanus remains livid. You shouldn’t be here, moreover it wasn’t true, you didn’t only have Sejanus, but you had Coriolanus’ mind, body and soul that you are so quick to dismiss. 

“Are you crazy?”, he seeths. 

You tear your eyes away from Sejanus to glare at him. 

“What a surprise Coriolanus isn’t happy again”, you remark. 

“Do you realise what you have done? How dangerous it is to have followed him here?” Coriolanus pushes. 

“I’ve made my choice’’, you state. Coriolanus felt you were speaking to more than your decision to follow Sejanus. You were making it clear that you belonged to Sejanus. 

Coriolanus could feel the ghost of your lips against his. You hadn’t forgotten and forgiven the kiss.

How could he protect you here if you wanted nothing to do with him? How could he get you to listen to him if you willfully blocked your ears with Sejanus?

“Hey”, Sejanus scoffs, trying to ease the tension, “some things never change”.

Coriolanus felt Sejanus clamp his large hand on his shoulder. If he wasn’t so stuck in his anger, he would have shaken him off. 

Instead he stood rigid staring at you. Hoping that this all was just a dream.

“I for one couldn’t be happier. I have the two most important people in my life. A path in life, a chance to make a real difference, freedom. Our lives have just begun. We’re going to do great”. 

You smile at him in a delusional gaze. 

“We’re going to do great”, you agree. 

A whistle blows and an older woman in a nurses uniform begins to yell at you. 

“I’ll see you soon”, you promise to your fiance. 

“Hoffs given us leave passes for the weekend, can you make it?” Sejanus rushes. 

You nod your head ‘yes’, half turning your body away before you receive a punishment for insubordination.  

“Meet me at the front gates at 4 o’clock on Saturday”, he instructs. 

Coriolanus felt his blood run cold at the thought of willingly bringing you out from the safety of the compound. 

“I will” you promise. The stupid smile not leaving your face. 

Your complete delusional state left you vulnerable to very real danger that the district posed. 

“Take care of yourself” Coriolanus orders as you run back to where you were supposed to be. 

Sejanus slaps Coriolanus' shoulder in glee, and this time Coriolanus has the capacity to shove Sejanus away. 

He turns, regaining his fast pace to return the uniform with Sejanus following, but no longer talking. 

The goal was to get back to the Capitol before Sejanus could bring you here, now you have come on your own accord and completely ruined his plans. Why did you have to be such a difficult woman? 

Had you ruined his officer plans? How could he leave you here with only Sejnaus for protection. 

The panic almost strangled him. He needed to recalculate his plan

 But every outcome he could think of either let you down or grandma’am and tigres. 

He left Sejanus still taking off his jacket in the uniform room to go back to his bunk.  

Sejanus had swapped a week of Ma’s goodies for the lower bunk so Coriolanus only had a few moments before Sejanus would rejoin him. 

His head hit the flimsy pillow and he covered his face with his hands.

He could think of a million things that could go wrong now that you were here. 

A district could find his way into the Camp. Into your bunk, with your luck. You could get sick and have to rely on the district's poor resources. 

Life in the Compound was no picnic. You would have to work harder than you ever had before. At home you ate and woke when you decided. Here you would have to earn your keep. 

The privileges of your life lost because you loved the wrong man. The right man would stop at nothing to ensure your every comfort, not congratulate you for losing everything for him. 

He wondered if he could kill Sejanus during training and get away with the accident angle. But you would never look at him the same if he killed Sejanus, accidently or not. 

Footsteps approached the bed and Sejanus threw something heavy on the bed.

“Coryo, are you alright?”, he asks. 

“You need to tell her to leave Sejanus. For her own good”, he commanded. 

He uncovered his face to look Sejanus in the eye as he spoke but his words missed their mark. 

Sejanus smiles instead and rolls his eyes. 

“You worry too much. You’ve always been like that, even in the academy. Always watching everyone carefully choosing when to weigh in”. 

“Well I am weighing in now, Sejanus. Is this really what you want for her? The slums of the District?”, Coriolanus snarls. 

His push awakened something in Sejanus who now carried a look in his eyes that Coriolanus had never seen before. 

“I know you and Y/n are friends so I’ve put up with a lot, but you are overstepping your boundary now. So long as Y/n and I are together nothing else matters. I don’t care if I am with her here or the hunger games. She’s not your girl, Coriolnanus, you don’t need to worry about her”. 

His comment silenced Coriolanus who was forced to turn to his side away from Sejanus. 

Coriolanus’s hands balled into fists ready to put Sejanus back in his place. But he was right. Technically you weren’t any of his concern. 

If it had been anyone else Coriolanus wouldn’t have battered an eye. But it was you. The object of his obsession since the end of the dark days. 

His life line to keep going through it all. His hope and joy, even if you never knew it. 

Maybe that’s why you felt compelled to come to district 12. To help Coriolanus survive yet another feat. 

To inspire him to work harder, to train longer. 

Suddenly, he felt terrible for greeting you the way he did. 

You were only trying to help him. You came to him in his hour of need, and he had bitten you for it. 

A slither of hope ran through Coriolanus. 

Maybe things would work out after all. 

—------

Coriolanus counted down the hours until the weekend. 

Sejanus too. It was the first time he had ever had anything in common with the district born boy. 

He saw glimpses of you during training in the yard. 

Never for very long and Coriolanus had to concentrate to find you amongst the other recruits. But a single glance for a split second was enough to renew his spirits. 

He even found himself interacting with others. Ending nights in a friendly competition between friends, rather than with the training book in his hand. 

There were many Peacekeepers in the compound, but few that he liked. Most of them knew nothing more than to follow orders and use brute force.

The unit he was placed in housed twenty men in a shed that didn’t leave for much room. Of the twenty, Coriolanus found company in only three. Beanstalk, called so for his great height, Smiley, a round face and eager boy and Bug, who often said nothing. 

They had tried to give Coriolnaus a nic-name, but he pushed back against it. His name was the last thing he held to his capitol standing. He would die before he relinquished it. 

Sejanus on the other hand accepted the name ‘Bulls-eye’, dubbed after an impressive training session, where he hit nearly all of the targets. 

The name had taken on an ironic meaning after he failed to do so since. Coriolanus had warned him against showing such promise. They don’t need a medic with perfect aim. It may derail his plans of leaving the gun behind for gauze. 

Coriolanus also didn’t need Sejanus taking any attention away from him during training. He needed to be the best in all categories so there was no doubt in the Commanders eyes that Coriolanus was the one to be sent for officer training.

Saturday came slowly, but finally arrived. 

Coriolanus took extra time to groom himself. Ensuring that he looked and smelt his best after hours of grueling training. 

The other men, who he had come to accept as friends until he could get out, snickered at him, asking him if he was prettying himself for the girls.

Coriolanus smirked to himself as the men jeered. 

Sejanus came to his defence and the men left Coriolanus alone. 

They stood together prettying themselves for the same girl. 

“Do you think she will be there?” Sejanus asks. 

Coriolanus felt a jolt run through him. Seeing you was the only thing he was looking forward to. Was your presence now a maybe?

“Who?”Coriolanus asks for clarity. He puts down his wet washer and faces Sejanus at the next sink. Surely, he couldn’t mean you. 

‘Who else? Lucy-Gray!” He said without care. 

Coriolanus huffs, feeling his heart go back down into his chest. 

“I don’t know”, Coriolanus says, “I don't even know if she would still be alive”. 

It saddened him to think that his cheating would cause her death. 

“Do you think they killed her?” Coriolanus asked. 

Sejanus shakes his head ‘no’ still looking in the mirror to apply his after shave, and pleasant smelling cream. 

“Why would they risk it? She was a big hit. If they do have the games next year, they will properly invite her to sing at the opening ceremony”. 

His words sooth Coriolanus, who picks up his soapy washer and runs it across his skin. 

When he finally saw you standing just outside the compound gates with the sun going down behind you, it felt as if a heavy weight was being lifted from his chest. 

You wore a nurses uniform, pale blue and faded from previous use. The sleeves came down to your elbow and hugged your skin.The top of the fabric cinched at your waist before falling into a straight line of fabric that ended just before your knees. 

“Hey” you called with a wave. 

Coriolanus fought to keep his hand down, as Sejanus ran up to you. 

Sejanus took you into his arms and gave you a deep kiss, earring a cheer from the men. Coriolanus had to look away from the sight. 

You break away to shush them, much to Coriolanus’s pleasure. 

“Don’t draw any attention” you command, “I’m not supposed to be here. I gave a girl my gold hair clip to cover for me. It’d be a waste if you blew it for me”. 

The men hush, instead shaking Sejanus in encouragement. 

“Come on”, Sejanus commands, turning out from you but keeping a hold of your hand, “lets get there before all the seats get taken” 

“I have to be back by ten. Thats when the head nurse checks the bunks”. 

Sejanus hums in response, but Coriolanus was livid that you had a bedtime at all. 

He wanted to say so to you, but found it difficult to get close enough to speak to you. 

He was pushed to the back as Smiley, and Beanpole crowded you with questions, and idle conversation. 

It left Coriolanus and Bug walking behind the group in silence. He never thought Bug would become his favorite. 

The men disappeared as the large barn came into sight. Coriolanus took his spot next to you as soon as it opened. 

He could hear the music from a mile away as he walked. The old barn had a yellow stream of flight that flooded the place, occasionally cut off by shadows of people walking past. 

He stayed close to you as you entered the barn. 

It was hot and loud inside. Peacekeepers and districts crowded the floor. No one seemed to mind the shared coexistence, but Coriolanus could feel the underlying tension. He would be sure not to let you go too far tonight. 

A small blonde headed girl sings and dances on a makeshift stage. A call for peace while people were fixated on her. 

Senjanus halts on the edge of the dance floor. His eye caught by something at the bar. 

“Stay with Coriolanus. I am going to get a drink”, Sejanus orders.

He is weaving his way through the crowd before you could get your “okay” out. 

Coriolanus stood straighter next to you. His hand reaches out behind you to keep you close but never lands. 

The little girl on stage finished her song and the crowd roars for more. 

“Is it getting hot in here?”, the girl calls to the crowd. 

You cheer back, cupping your hands to scream back and clap.

“Well, we’re planning on heating it up just a tad more!”, she teases, “The one, the only, Lucy-Gray-Baird!”. 

The world stops for a second as he watches Lucy-Gray dance up onto the stage. She was dressed in heavy dark clothing that resembled a costume, and had her face painted in make-up. 

You hit Coriolanus’s chest in excitement.

He looks down at you. He had brought you this happiness. 

You grinned from ear to ear. Your eyes sparkle with joy that he secured by cheating in the games. 

He wondered if he would get a thank you. He wouldn’t push it from you, seeing you happy was enough for him. 

Lucy-Gray warms the crowd with her charm before she starts her song. It was the same one from the reaping but placed to a happy tune. He almost didn’t recognize it. But her words were unforgettable. 

“You can take my pa, but his name’s a mystery”, she sang,

Her eyes roam around the room before finally falling on you and Coriolanus in the crowd. 

Her voice hitches when her eye catches Coriolanus. The words she was singing gets stuck in her throat until you draw her attention by waving. 

Lucy-Gray gives you a flash of her smile and her singing voice returns. 

He couldn’t believe it. She was alive. His filly in the race made it out unscathed. 

You take a step forward into the crowd and Coriolanus goes along with you, hovering his body protectively close. 

A shout is heard from the back of the room causing coriolanus to turn to see a dark featured man making his way through the crowd. 

Coriolanus pushes you closer by the shoulder into him and out of the mans way as he pushes through. 

“Lucy-Gray!”, he calls, “Lucy-Gray, you're sounding mighty thin without me! You all are!”.

“Billy!” the women trailing him scolded. 

He feels you shuffle forward towards the scene, and clamps down on your shoulder to keep you at bay. 

“I know you miss me!”, Billy yells as he attempts to climb the stage. 

He is pulled back by the women, Coriolanus guessed is the Mayor’s daughter. 

“You promised me you wouldn’t play with them again”, she demanded. 

Her demand is met with a harsh shove back into the crowd. It agitates the atmosphere and people begin to become rowdy. 

“Settle down, settle down”, Lucy-Gray says into her microphone. 

The crowd does not. When a Peacekeeper gets punched, it incites the crowd to erupt into chaos. 

Bodies shove into Coriolanus as some join the fight and others fight to leave. 

You tear yourself from his grasp and push your way to help Lucy-Gray as Billy climbs the stage. 

His hand wedges it way through the gaps but fails to pull you back. 

Instead he forces his path behind you. Shoving people away to get to you. 

His uniform made him a target in a roomful of angry and hungry district men. 

It didn’t come as a surprise when a fist came flying at his face. 

His face stung from the hit but he didn’t retaliate, too focused on yanking you away from Billy.  

He had climbed on the stage to cling to Lucy-Gray’s dress and you had grabbed on to his arm to stop him. 

When he shoved you harshly away, you latched on again like a fool. 

Billy swung his arm back to ensure your compliance. It almost lands before Coriolanus yanked the threatening arm to spin the short framed man towards himself. 

“Don’t touch her!” he shouts, pounding his fist into the side of Billy’s face. 

From the corner of his eye he saw you recoil in shock. He should have stopped with three good punches but he found his fist flying again and again into the boys boney face. 

It brought him back to the area. That same fierce protectiveness coursing through his veins. He didn’t want the threat to be neutralized, he wanted it to be eliminated. 

“Coriolanus stop!” you call.

When you wrap yourself around his arm to keep it mobilized, he doesn’t shake you off. The sirens of the Peacekeeper vans could be heard over the commotion of the people. 

He looks up to see Lucy-Grey clutching her mic stand, frozen from what she saw. Even after the Hunger Games violence was foreign to her. It wasn’t in her nature, but it was in Coriolanus’s. 

He heard your name being shouted by Sejanus who tried to push his way through the dispersing crowd to get to you. 

A loud bang knocked down the barn doors and fully equipped peacekeepers marched in, throwing around anyone in their way. 

Coriolanus grabbed your wrist with his sore hand and yanked you towards the back exit people were escaping from. He couldn’t hear you over the noise of the barn but he could feel you tugging back against him. 

Even when he hit the quiet, cool, outside air, he still didn’t release you. Continuing to force you forward into the darkness. 

“Wait. We have to go back”, you demand with a harsh pull of your wrist. 

“He’ll be fine”, Coriolanus assured, “He’ll find his own way out. Come on”.

He yanks you a bit too harshly forward and you stumble from the force. 

“We have to get you back”, he addresses, loosening his tight grip to a firm hold, “They’ll be sure to conduct the bunk checks early with the amount of peacekeepers there”.

You follow him along the dirt, rocky road back to the Compound. A few people run past but it is mostly dark and silent. Coriolanus stews as you walk quietly beside him. 

“What were you thinking?” he spat.

“I was thinking Lucy-Grey needed help”. It seemed his question had snapped you out of your compliant trance as you began to tug your wrist out of his hold again.

“From you? You could have gotten hurt”, he criticized. 

“So I shouldn’t have done anything? Let go!”. 

He doesn’t, swinging your wrist forward out of the way of your free clawing hand. 

“Yes,Y/n. That’s exactly what you should have done”, he scolded. 

“Maybe you should listen to your own advice. Saved yourself a busted lip, and sword to your shoulder”, you mocked, slightly out of breath from Coriolanus’s speed. 

He hadn’t realised that his lip was bleeding until you mentioned it. Now he could taste the metallic warm liquid trickling into his mouth. 

He wipes it away with his spare hand. The cut stings as he puts pressure on it.

Your own cruelty stunned you. A person who prided herself on her kindness and compassion now sneering at her saviour. 

“Wait, Coriolanus”, you say, halting your steps. Coriolanus stops with you, releasing your wrist. 

“I am sorry. That’s not fair”. 

He stares at you in shock. You had always spoken to him quite guarded. Now it felt as if your relationship was growing. You were speaking your mind to him now. Apologising when you are wrong. It was a strong foundation to any relationship. 

“You’re forgiven”, he whispers back.

He reaches out to take a hold of your wrist again but you know it back out of his way. He doesn’t attempt again, moving forward along the road. 

“Come on, we have to get back”, he commands. 

You do follow him, and the air is heavy with something you wanted to say. 

“Coriolanus”, you begin after a moment of silence, “what you did back there. What you did back in the arena”. 

Coriolanus cuts you off, sure the next words weren’t a thank you. 

“Saved your life”, he turned to gaze down at you with eyes that spoke of how cautious you should be, “I did what I had to do to keep you safe”. 

You shrinked under him. You nodded your head in agreement but your eyes looked unsure. 

He followed you when you began walking ahead of him. 

“It must have felt good to see Lucy-Gray tonight”, you say. 

“Yes”, he agrees, “I am glad she is not dead”. 

“Me too. I thought she was for sure when those snakes got dropped in the arena”. 

“So did I” he acknowledges. 

The night was quiet now. Only the moon lit the path back to the Compound. You and Coriolanus took a leisurely stroll away from the chaos of the barn. He found himself grateful for the eventful night now that he walked beside you. 

He lifts his hand to place it on your shoulder closest to him. You stop walking immediately as it lands. 

Coriolanus halts a step forward, turning his body back to you in question. 

“You should know I didn’t tell him. I figured a kiss in excitement wasn’t worth upsetting him for”, you lecture. 

He felt the lump in his throat forming. 

“What is it you are insinuating?”

“You’re Sejanus’s best friend”, you accuse. 

He needed to throw you off the scent. You needed more time. 

“And you're my best friend's girl. Someone I hoped I could form a close relationship with, for Sejanus’s sake”.

“Sometimes it feels like you are taking Sejanus’ place”.

Some day he would. Sejanus would be a distant memory as you curled up in bed beside him, but for right now he was an active threat. 

“You’re right” he acknowledges, “A kiss in excitement means nothing. I didn’t ask you to come here, Y/n. I don’t want you here”. 

The kiss meant everything to him, and now you were trampling it under your foot. 

He continues walking on. He wouldn’t leave you behind in the darkness by yourself but his resolve was slipping and he needed the distance to organise himself.

“I am sorry if I have given you the wrong impression but I followed Lucy-Gray here, not you. Whatever you think, I assure you, you have dreamed it”.

You jog to keep up, but he keeps his quick stride. 

“You’re right, I am sorry. You’ve been nothing but a good friend to Sejanus and to me. And Lucy-Grey, I know you two got close. It’s just the kiss, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was looking for an answer where there wasn’t one, and I am sorry that I offended you. Honestly, Coriolanus”, you tug his arm back to slow his movements, “ I am sorry. I do want to be friends with you”. 

Coriolanus tugs his arm away and continues walking back to the compound. 

“Hurry up”, he calls. 

You don’t speak anymore and Coriolanus swims with his thoughts. 

He wasn’t the only one who was unable to let go of the kiss. Maybe you didn’t tell Sejanus because the shame of wanting him too was too much. 

Your reaction and accusation, however, hurt. On top of that he had confessed untrue feelings towards Lucy-Grey. You had attempted to push him away and he had allowed you to. 

Was it too late to undo the damage? Could he tell you he was lying and that he only ever thought of you. 

The sight of the compound told him it was too late. He had made his bed, he would now have to lie in it.

He led you back to the medic side of the compound where the security was less militant. 

“Go inside” he commands with a shove of your elbow. 

You nod and walk past him. You don’t once turn to look back but he watches you until you fall out of sight. 

—--------

He doesn’t see you for the next three days. Not even in crossing. Sejanus does however. 

The lovers had found a quiet isolated place where they could meet. Coriolanus was yet to figure out where it was. 

He thought about following Sejanus but instead chose to focus on his studies. 

When a first aid course with the nurses was announced, Coriolanus couldn’t believe his luck. 

The nurses needed volunteers to practice on. A whole afternoon of sitting in your presence. The whole cohort jumped at the chance. 

Coriolanus knew that the Capitol had ulterior motives. They wanted Peacekeepers and nurses to get together and raise capitol loving children in the districts. 

It was a good way to control morale and ensure obedience. The officer in charge gave the men a long list of chores that needed to be completed before such a privilege was granted. 

Coriolanus did them happily. Sejanus too was eager to see you and worked alongside Coriolanus. 

He wouldn’t allow Sejanus to come. Coriolanus was not doing the chores to see any other nurse but you. 

Upon the day, Coriolanus excused himself from breakfast so he could go back to the bunks.

Discipline and obedience was a trait that was valued amongst basic training. 

The superior officers demonstrated this with morning bunk checks. 

There was a certain way that bunks had to be made. It was nothing more than a test of complacency, but it came with strong sanctions if not followed. 

Coriolanus untucks Sejanus’s bottom bunk, and retucks it incorrectly. Leaving the edge of the fabric poking out. After that he picks random and unlucky beds and ensures they also won’t pass the inspection. 

Pleased with his work Coriolanus returns to the mess hall in perfect time to be called for the morning bed inspection. 

He fights to keep the smirk off his face while he lines up alongside Sejanus in front of their bunks.

“Snow, pass” the officer says, documenting the outcome on his clipboard, “Plinth, you’re with me”. 

“What?” Sejanus questions. He looks back at his bed, noticing the untucked fabric and mentally scolds himself. 

“Is that a volunteer for tomorrow too?”, the officer threatens. 

“No, sir”, the boy spits in a strained voice. 

The officer moves on to other bunks and the men are left standing there in silence like they are expected too. 

Coriolanus could feel Sejanus’s disappointment radiating off him. The reaction was surprising. He would see you during your secret meetings. Why did it matter so much to him to lose out on this opportunity? 

The officer finishes the morning inspection and wishes all the men going to assist the nurses a good time, and all the men assisting him today, good luck. 

Coriolanus turns to Sejanus, who’s shoulders were sagged and face sour. 

“Tough break”, Coriolanus offered. 

“I swear that bunk was correct. I checked it three times”, Sejanus whines. 

“Obviously not”. Coriolanus straightens as men begin to disperse to their destinations. He didn’t want someone else to pick you after all the effort he went to in order to get Sejanus out of the way. 

“Can you tell y/n that I am sorry, and that I’ll see her soon”, Sejanus asks. 

Coriolanus nods, although he had no intention of following through. 

“Good luck, Sejanus” he remarks as he makes his way past his enemy and out the door. 

—-

As he enters the usually empty hall that was now filled with tables and chairs and medical equipment. 

He spotted you almost instantly standing in front of your small table. He could tell you were looking for Sejanus from the way your eyes darted across the room and your hands clasp together in front of you, almost in a begging fashion. 

The men were stopped at the door, while the head nurse explained that the nurses would be practicing bandaging, and the men would sit quietly and allow them to do so. She made it clear that this was not a dance, or social event. The girls would learn and the men should try and pick up as much as they could as the information could one day save their life. With a final warning that too much fun would get them kicked out, she released the men to find a partner. 

He went straight to you, but you still looked past him for Sejanus. 

“Where’s Sejanus?” you ask as coriolanus takes a seat in front of you. 

“He’s not coming. He didn’t pass the bunk inspection”, he explains. 

You sigh in response and begin to unwrap the bandage from its wrapper to begin. 

Coriolanus leans closer to you, mockingly whispering his words. 

“Surely I am not that bad?”, he teases. 

“No, Coriolanus, no. You’re fine. It’s just”, you begin but stop, dropping your hands to your lap. 

“It’s just what?”, he asks sincerely. It hurt him a tad that you consider him just ‘fine’ and sought any further explanation as to why. 

You look back at him and begin to wrap his fake wound as the teacher walks around the room. 

“He’s been so distant lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if he deliberately didn’t pass the bunk inspection”.

His heart sank at your words. He didn’t want to hurt you. 

“He’d be crazy to do that”, Coriolanus defended but your face didn’t change from it’s sullen expression. 

“A lot of Peacekeepers didn’t pass the inspection, not just Sejanus. They were hard this morning”. 

You offer a kind smile which eases him slightly. 

“You’re right. I keep forgetting this isn’t the Capitol. Sejanus isn’t free to see me when he likes”. 

He watches as you pick up a pair of scissors to cut off the extra material. 

He wondered if not being able to see you when he liked drove Sejanus as mad as it did Coriolanus. 

If it did, he showed no outward signs of it. But then again neither did Coriolanus. 

“How are you adjusting here?”, Coriolanus asked. 

You were mainly focused on getting the bandage wrapped correctly so you spoke slow and in fragmented sentences. 

“Yeah, it’s. Um. It’s different”, the pin you drive into the bandage to keep it in place nipped Coriolanus, but he made no complaint. 

“It’s nice. You know, independence. I’ve learnt how to wash my own clothes, and clean, and bandage perfectly good wrists”. 

You pin another but this time it goes perfectly into the bandage. 

“You shouldn’t have to”

“Everybody should have to. The Capitol keeps us dependant on the districts so we fear their uprising”. 

“Y/n”, he growls looking around the room to make sure no one else heard you. That talk could get you killed.

You realise it too. Your eyes shift around but no one appears to have noticed. 

You clear your throat before talking as if to clear anymore silly words coming out of your mouth. 

“How are you adjusting? You must miss your family back home”, you comment. 

“I do”, Coriolanus admits, “I worry about them all the time”.

“You’ll get back” you promise to him, “Sejanus tells me you are working your way quickly up the ranks. If there’s one thing Coriolanus Snow can do, it’s rise to the top”. 

He smiles at you. Maybe being sent to district 12 was part of a greater plan to bring you closer to him. 

District 12 offered a forced proximity. You just needed to get to know Coriolanus

“You know they never told us what you did”, you begin to pry. It makes Coriolanus’ heart jump to his throat. 

“I cheated”, he admits after a moment of silence, “To save Lucy-Gray from the snakes”. 

He awaits your reaction.

You nod in understanding, placing the last pin into the bandage. 

“I am glad you did. It would have been a shame to lose her too”.

“Sejanus tells me that you plan to stay here. Is that truly what you want?”

Your face read shocked that he would ask such a personal question but you answered him anyway. 

“I want to be with him. I don’t care where that has to be”

The teacher reached the couple which gave Coriolanus a nice break to gather his thoughts. 

After constructive feedback was given, the teacher leaves and you begin to unwrap his dressing. 

“I am sorry, I don’t mean to overstep”, he says. He could tell you were angry at him from the roughness of your hands and silence of your tongue. “It’s just we’re friends and I only want your happiness. If that’s with him here, fine, but I want to make sure it’s your decision, not his”. 

“You are the only one who seems to want to make decisions for me, Coriolanus”, you bite. 

“I only want to help you”, he defends. 

“I don’t need your help,Coriolanus. I don’t need your friendship, and I don’t need your grubby little hands over me all the time”

Coriolanus hadn’t realised that he had reached out to take ahold of your wrist until you yanked it from under him. 

You get up from the table completely which draws the rooms attention. 

“Y/n sit down” he demands. 

You do sit down, drawing the attention of the head nurse who comes over to inspect the scene.

“Is there something the matter?” she asks in a cold hard tone. 

“No Ma’am”, you answer, “Sorry, just a cramp”. 

The older woman runs her eyes over Coriolanus' wrapped wrist and begins to critique your work.

With instructions to do it again, the woman leaves the table, and the tense atmosphere returns. 

You pick up the gauze again and undo it from Coriolanus’ wrist. 

Coriolanus remains silent and allows you to break the stalemate with a deep sigh. 

“Sorry, I just haven’t been sleeping very well. I don’t mean to take it out on you”. 

“It’s okay”, he assures, “I understand”. 

Your words still were unnecessary, but he could forgive you with the excuse. 

“Is there something I could do to help you?” he asks. 

Maybe he could find a way to get a firmer pillow for you. He knows the flimsy pillow he received drove him mad. 

You shake your head ‘no’ with a sad expression that he wanted to wipe off your face. 

“I keep having nightmares”, you explain and Coriolanus was grateful for it, “I am in the Hunger Games, being forced to fight for my life”.

Coriolanus grows cold at the memory of Sejanus’s rescue. He never should have allowed you in the van. Now you were carrying trauma that he could have protected you from if he had just been less of a boy and more of a man.

“Like that night in the arena?” he confirms. He wanted to assure you that you were in no danger. That he would and did protect you. 

But you spoke before he could. 

“Like as a tribute”.

The bandage was off and you began re-dressing his wrist as instructed. 

“I can’t imagine what Lucy-Gray is going through right now”, you state.

Coriolanus turns his wrist up so he could take a hold of yours as he spoke. 

“You’re safe”. He promises. 

You remove yourself from his grasp.

“Until the Capitol decides I am not”, you declare. 

It’s quiet again as you redo his bandage.He decides he better turn the conversation onto something more joyful. 

“Lucy-Gray has invited me to go to a hidden lake tomorrow with her and the Covey. Perhaps you would like to join?”, he asks. 

He, himself, was not intending on joining but maybe seeing that Lucy-Gray was okay would stop your nightmares. 

“You’ve seen her?” you question, looking up from pinning the bandage in place. 

He nods back in confirmation, “Yesterday” he remarks. 

He doesn't mention Sejanus used that time to speak to Billy Tope and the Brother of the girl in the jail cell. The less you knew the better. 

“Was she okay after the barn?”. 

“Fine. So are you in?” he pushes. 

Tomorrow was your day off, he knew it. If he rushed through his chores in the morning, he could spend nearly the whole day with you. 

You nod back causing Coriolanus to smile. “Of course, what if someone needs my expertise wrapping skills”, you joke. 

—----------

It was not a surprise when you showed up with Sejanus. Even so, Coriolanus felt disappointed. He had gotten up at 4:30 to start his chores in order to finish in time to take you.

You clung to his arm as you followed the Covey into the forest. Coriolanus held Lucy-Gray’s hand. 

More so, she held his hand and he just didn’t let go. They didn’t talk. Coriolanus was too preoccupied to decipher your and Sejanus’s conversation and Lucy-Gray was happy humming a song. 

Half way the blonde child complained she couldn’t walk any further, and hero Sejanus offered to give her a piggyback ride.

You fall back, giving Sejanus room to bounce and run with the child. 

“Here, do you want a drink?” Coriolanus offers, letting go of Lucy-Gray's hand and reaching into his small bag to retrieve his water bottle. 

You take it with a thanks and he watches as you place your lips around it to take a drink. 

To his dismay, Lucy-Gray takes it next and swaps out your saliva for her own. 

“That song you were singing, is it new?” you ask. 

“No, been sang long before me” Lucy- Grey responded. 

Coriolaus had not been listening, leaving him deeply regretting his choice now that he had nothing to weigh in. 

Luckily, lucy-gray began singing it again with clear and slow words. 

‘Oft I heard of Lucy-Gray, and when i crossed the wild i chanced to see at break of day the solitary child”. 

The song did not thrill Coriolanus but you were enthralled with the performance. She sang of a girl with the same name, a child who got lost in the wild, who turned into some sort of ghost. 

“Does she survive? Lucy-gray in the song?” he fakes interest. 

Lucy-Gray grins back, “No one knows. It’s a mystery, sweetheart. Just like me”. 

The view of the water breaks all further conversation. The lake was murky and still. A long wooden jetty reached from the shore into its depth. 

The lush grass stopped upon the muddy shore, and weaved itself alongside the small cabin built upon it. 

The Covey are quick to jump in. Disregarding their clothes to show the home made swim wear underneath. 

You pose no hesitation in joining them, stripping down to your underwear. 

If you were Coriolanus’s girl he wouldn’t allow it. Not with other prying eyes. 

But as he was the prying eye, he stood in silence and watched. 

Sejanus jumped in after you, pulling you close as you playfully squirm out of his grip. 

Lucy-Gray blocks his eyesight as she shimmers off her dress and invites him to join with her smile alone. 

He takes the invitation, ridding himself of his peacekeeper uniform and running off the jetty. 

You pay him no mind as he joins you in the water. Your focus is on Sejanus. 

Lucy-Gray pays mind, swimming over to Coriolanus and holding herself up on his shoulders. He hoped it made you jealous when you glanced at him to see it. But your head turned back to Sejanus too quickly. 

You join the covey in water games while he and Lucy-gray float off on the side with each other.

Lucy-Gray seemed to what to say something but she never did. 

One by one the water was evacuated. As soon as he saw you swimming to the shore, he followed. 

You put on your nurse dress still soaked and it clings to your body, leaving dark patches of material where it dampened. 

Lucy-Gray offers Coriolanus a towel to dry himself which he accepts. He wondered if it was just spare or if she had packed one especially for him. 

As he dresses, you and Sejanus find a shady spot under a tree and you lay against him, talking. 

He thinks about going over, but it is too awkward even for him. Instead Lucy-Gray calls him over to sit on a blanket with her. 

Like a dog, he obeys and takes a seat next to Lucy-Gray who had thrown back on her purple dress. 

“I am real sorry about y/n and Sejanus”, she remarks. 

Coriolanus remains stone-faced and looks out to the lake. 

“What’s there to be sorry for?”. The war was far from over.

“You said it was complicated, don’t seem too complicated now”

Her comment irritated Coriolanus. It was more complicated than it had ever been.

“Y//n doesn’t know what she wants”, he declares. 

“I heard about the engagement”, she said awkwardly. She curls herself into a ball, hugging her knees tight to her chest.

Coriolanus shifts his gaze upon her in an intense stare. 

“I don’t see a ring”, he states softly. 

It was true. You didn’t wear the large diamond that you boasted about in your letters to Sejanus. He supposed they made you give it up when you volunteered for the districts. 

“She followed him here”, Lucy-Gray reasons, “Sejanus says you followed me here”. 

Coriolanus reflects on her statement. He supposed it was true. There was no other reason why he bribed the clerk into sending him to district 12. 

“I guess I did,” he admits, looking back to the ocean, “I had to see if you were alive”. 

“Well I am”, she declares. The new topic instills new confidence and she unrolls herself into a more relaxed position,”didn’t think I’d make it”. 

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Lucy-Gray anxiously playing with her hands. 

“Didn’t think I had what it took to survive”, her voice began to shake, earning Coriolanus attention back. “That little girl, Dill. I thought it would be one of the others. maybe Coral…”

“Hey” Coriolanus consoles, “You are not a killer, Lucy-gray”.

Her watering eyes that focused on the water, snapped to his in stern look. 

“Yes, I am” she proclaims, “both of us are now” she adds softly. 

Her assertion stunned him. How did she know about Bobbin in the arena?

It clicks and Coriolanus inhales a large breath. 

“Dean Highbotton told you what I did to that boy in the arena?” he quizzed. 

She nodded back, wiping away her tears. 

“I didn’t have a choice”, he says softly. It was you or him and he had made his choice long ago. 

“She wouldn’t understand. We’re the same, Coriolanus. We do what we have to so we can survive”.

Coriolanus is saved from having to answer when the smallest member of the group begins to shout excitedly, pulling out a flapping fish from the water. 

He gets hold of it and turns as if he was going to show someone before all his sounds stop and he falls back into silence. 

“Good work, Cc!” Lucy-Gray calls. 

The small boy doesn’t respond as he hits the fish against a rock to stop it moving. 

“See if you can catch some more. We’ll have lunch”. 

A thumbs up is given to Lucy-Gray’s words before the boy turns back to fishing with the others. 

“He misses Billy toupe”, Lucy-Gray addresses. 

The disappointed look on her face spoke of her true feelings too. 

“Do you?” Coriolanus pushes. 

“No”, she says bitterly, “Not since the reaping. I can’t trust him anymore”.

“Trust is everything” Coriolanus agrees. 

“It is to me” she declares, “More important even then love. Without trust, you might as well be dead to me. But you can trust me. I promise you that.If you can trust anyone in this world”, her eyes flick quickly to you before they go back to coriolanus, “You can trust me”.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure what to say. He did trust Lucy-gray, and he hoped that she trusted him. She did at least during the Hunger games. 

“You can trust me too”, he answers softly. 

Coriolanus turns hearing footsteps to see Sejanus and you walking hand in hand over to the blanket. 

“Hey, you guys mind if we join you?” Sejanus calls. 

“No” Lucy-gray yells back but her voice hinted that she did.

Nevertheless, you two sit down. Sejanus in front of Lucy-gray and you next to Coriolanus.

“Don’t have anything like this in the Capitol”, Sejanus comments. 

“The Capitol also doesn't have bed bugs and rats the size of small children” Coriolanus bites. 

“Come on” Sejanus laughs, “it’s not that bad”. 

“You know what I miss?” you speak up, “Hot baths”. 

Coriolanus hated the thought of you missing anything. Let alone because of a district born fool who doesn’t deserve you. 

“I miss my ma,” Sejanus croaks. 

It earns sympathy from you in the shape of reaching out to hold his hand. Coriolanus wanted to mention his dead mother who he will never see again, but it was a pitiful move. 

Lucy-gray is also unfazed by his declaration, having experienced true pain and loss. 

“You must miss your parents” Coriolanus asks you. 

Maybe he could find a way to guilt you back to the Capitol and enjoying hot baths. 

But you shrug your shoulders as if you didnt care.

“They made me choose. Sejanus or them.  How can you miss people who disown you”. 

The situation was worse than he had anticipated. You were disowned with no one to reach out to for help. Still you were a loved daughter, surely they would welcome you back. It was Sejanus they hated, not you. With Coriolanus by your side, they were sure to accept you back into the fold. 

“Would you really go back through? I mean if you could” lucy-Gray asked. 

Coriolanus felt as if she was solely asking him so he answered first. 

“I have to. It’s where I belong. Where we all belong”, he states firmly. 

“The Capitol’s not for me”, Lucy-Gray asserts as if Coriolanus was including her. 

He hated the way she turned her nose up at the idea. As if she was better. 

“At least it’s civilized. Has order” he provokes.

“Oh the Hunger Games are order?”Lucy-Gray returned.

“Making children fight to the death is civilized?” you take Lucy-gray’s side and he quickly backtracks haven forgotten you were there.  

“No. No, of course not”, he defends himself to you. 

“What if this was your life, Coriolanus? Out here. Waking whenever, catching your own food. Would you still feel the need for the Capitol even then?”, Lucy-Gray continues to aggravate the conversation. 

‘‘Sounds like the life to me” Sejanus submits. 

“And you?” Coriolanus corners you now. 

“I would go back to the Capitol” you admit, “I would go wherever Sejanus is”. 

Another fish is caught. The sound of the Covey clapping breaks the tense conversation. 

“They are going to need wood for the fire” Sejanus notes, “I’ll put you to the test, come with me to the forest to collect firewood?”.

You grin at him, copying him as you stand. 

“Lead the way”, you tease. 

Coriolanus was glad you were going. Lucy-gray had ruined the peaceful atmosphere. 

“Be careful of snakes!”Coriolanus calls after you. 

He thinks maybe he should follow but he was still uptight from the previous conversation. 

He leaves Lucy-Gray on her blanket, going back over to where his stuff laid and shoving on his shoes. 

The group sat in a circle around the fire. Lucy-Gray kept her distance on the other side with most of the Covey members. While Coriolanus sat by you while you talked with Sejanus. 

He had never had fish before and was surprised at how much he liked it. The only thing left on his fish was the bones. Everyone else still had a small amount of meat left. It was embarrassing and Coriolans tried to hide his fish with the leaf it was plated on. 

Sejanus barely touched his. His eating was interrupted by constantly checking his watch. 

“Hey, Tam” Sejanus shouted once it had hit the right time, “Would you mind showing me the way back?’

‘We’re leaving?” you ask, almost disappointed. 

“You head back with Coriolanus. I am not going back to the Compound”, he answers, swinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“Where are you going then?” you question. 

“I told you I had something in town this afternoon”.

“You didn’t tell me what”. 

Sejanus stands as Tam finishes packing his stuff to take Sejanus back. 

“I didn’t think I had to. My father doesn’t run my life and neither do you”, Sejanus declares. 

You stand up to his height, causing Coriolanus to strain to hear you. 

‘I don’t want to run it. I want to be in it” you demand. 

Sejanus turns soft, cupping the side of your face and speaking softly to you.

“If I thought I could tell you, I would. You just need to trust me”, he responds. 

“I do trust you. Whatever it is, I don’t care. Just let me face it with you”, you beg. 

Coriolanus implores Sejanus to say no. Coriolanus didn’t want you anywhere near Sejanus’s mess. A sentiment that was seemed to be shared by Sejanus when he pulls you in for a kiss to avoid answering. 

“I can’t be late”, he says before turning to slap Tam’s shoulder in thanks and following the boy back to the district. 

“What was that about?” Coriolanus digs as you sit back down. 

“You should know, he’s your best friend”.

You pick up a stick and dig it into the ground to ease your frustrations. 

“You see him more than I do. Suppose there's no room for serious talk in secret lovers rendezvous” he says bitterly. 

His words surprised you and you snapped your head towards him. 

“Rendezvous? What do you mean? This is the first time I have seen him in weeks” you state. 

It fills Coriolanus with pure joy. When he was picturing you locking lips and sharing promises with Sejanus, you were really far from him. 

“What could he be doing?” he pestered. 

Could this be his way in? A thread of distrust had started, all he needed to do was pull the string. 

You turn back to the fire and hold yourself like Lucy-gray did, tight and in a ball. 

He reaches out to place a hand on your knee in comfort. 

“I am always here for you”, he promises, “If ever you want to talk”.

“Thanks” you return flat. 

You are quiet on the walk back but fall in line with Coriolanus beside you. As soon as he is in familiar territory, he diverts you away from the group without a goodbye to the rest. 

He ensures you get back to your side of the compound safe, and you go towards the gate robotically. 

You stop and turn however, just as your body crosses the threshold. 

“Whatever he is doing, Coriolanus, protect him” you command. 

Coriolanus would sooner throw him to the dogs. 

But you didn’t need a response, trusting him to do it anyway and returning to the compound. 

When Coriolanus returns to his side he is greeted by senior peacekeepers closing in on him. 

“Private Snow? Come with us” one of them said with a harsh shove forward. 

With no choice he follows as they escort him to the commander's office. 

Coriolanus had done all his chores, there was nothing he could get in trouble for. Yet, his nerves still rose the closer they got. 

Was it bad news? Did Grandma’am die of shame? 

The doors shut behind him solidifying his fear that it was a private conversation. 

His Commander sits behind a desk, finishing the sentence on his paperwork before looking up. 

Coriolanus goes to stand before him, giving the Commander a salut in recognition. 

“Snow”, the older man address, “I have received the results from your aptitude tests”. 

Was that all? Coriolanus groaned. Hardly something he had to be called upon for. 

“Looked over your training records too. Your performance is exemplary”, he praises. 

“Well half the other recruits can’t read, sir”, Coriolanus states.

The Commander scoffs, placing down the results and folding his hands on his desk. 

“You’re General Crassus Snow’s boy. What did you do to end up here?” the commander questions. 

Coriolanus was hoping no one would connect Coriolanus to the great house of snow. But now the cat was out of the bag, he had to own it. 

“I made an enemy, sir. In the Capitol”, he answers.

The response impressed the Commander who smirked back. 

“I’ve made a career out of ruining my enemies’ plans. I’m going to reassign you to officer training in District 2. You’ll earn a real wage, maybe even have another shot at the capitol one day”. 

Coriolanus should be overjoyed but now that you were here it wasn’t enough time. The official assignment wasn’t for another few months. He was counting on the period between then to win you over. 

The commander reaches for his official stamp and places it on the paper. This conversation had been a test for Coriolanus. One he hadn’t meant to ace. 

“The train leaves in ten days. Keep a clean record, you’ll never see anyone from district 12 again”. 

The certificate is held out but Coriolanus’s hands froze to take it. 

“Is there something wrong? This is an honor, private, not an option”, he criticized. 

“Yes, sir. Thank you”, Coriolanus agreed, “it’s just, there’s a nurse I have grown quite close to”. 

The Commander grins back. Coriolanus wondered what he said that was so correct. 

‘A nurse, ey”, he brings back his outstretched hand to write on the paper with his pen, “my wife was a nurse too”. 

“You’ll have to make her your wife to stay together in district 2 but the Panem welcomes such news”. He holds out the paper again. 

This time Coriolanus takes it, noticing the plus one on the ticket. 

“Thank you, sir” he genuinely says. 

The world had fallen into place. All he had to do was find a way to get rid of Sejanus then you would be forced to marry him. 

You wouldn’t stay here by yourself. Your family has disowned you. Coriolanus would offer you a lifeline as his wife that you couldn’t refuse. 

Coriolanus had ten days to figure out how to kill Sejanus and get away with it. He slept soundly that night with the thought of it.

—------------------------------

Taglist?

[writing-zelda-brainrots]

Can you, maybe possibly do more winx club/fairy! Reader with the chain drabs- 📍(idk if any anon has this emoji but I want it.. whatever they mean)

Yeah, you can have that emoji. Of the people who have asked to be certain anons, none of them have used that emoji. I haven't come in contact with these emoji anons that much, but from what I can gather, they're used to mark a recurring fan who prefers staying anonymous.

--

“I think I see your problem here.”

Now you were by no means an expert on teaching magic, but when Hyrule came to you asking for advice, how could you possibly say ‘no?’ In a way, you were the best person for him to ask. While all members of the Chain have come into contact with magic - and even used it themselves - it was through magic items or fairies (which you were a little horrified to learn they often caught in bottles). Hyrule was the only one to actually harness magic and cast spells.

The two of you were similar in many ways: both of you learned about your magical heritage much later in life than others like you, there was the fact that both of you could transform (even if, like all other fairies of his world, he was much smaller than you), and the fact that you both felt different from the people you grew up around due to your magic.

“You’re trying to force the magic out, but at the same time you’re stifling it.” You spoke as you came closer, letting Hyrule relax his hand. “That kind of polarising pressure doesn’t allow the magic to flow correctly, which could lead to your spell backfiring on you. Believe me, it’s not good for your ego.”

You laughed a little at a memory of some of your first spells going wrong. You have no idea how, but you somehow messed up a spell that would change the colour of your hair. It was literally the first - and easiest - spell they taught you at Alfea and you managed to turn your hair into a technicolour nightmare.

But it seemed like your impromptu magic lesson had to be put on hold.

"[Name], my grappling hook got stuck in a tree and I can't pull it loose." A whiny voice caught your attention. "Can you fly up and get it?"

You know, sometimes you wondered if it wasn't such a good idea to tell these boys about your powers.

"Can't Wild climb up there and get it for you?" You ask a little annoyed. "I'm a little busy right now."

"But I wanted to show Wild a cool trick with it. If I go asking for his help, it'll be embarrassing."

You couldn’t say ‘no’ to that pleading look. Wind’s expressive face had its funny moments, but his puppy dog eyes were like weaponized guilt. Shooting Hyrule a look that said “sorry,” you received a small “it’s fine” in return. You’ll continue your training later.

You let out a sigh, looking up at the tall tree Wind was pointing at, “alright. But if this happens again, you’re on your own.”

“Deal!”

In just a flash of light you had transformed into your fairy form, wings out and fluttering to lift you off the ground. Following the rope, you found the hook stuck high in the branches, not only caught by the tree, but also by the rope itself. The whole thing was a giant knot looping around itself, one that you found hard to see where it began and ended. “Geez, Wind, how did you even manage this?” You groaned as you began pulling the problem apart.

“I was practicing a trick, but it went south.” The boy shouted from below as both he and Hyrule watched you work.

“Yeah, I can tell.”

After what felt like half an hour, you finally managed to untie the thing. Letting out a sigh of relief, you grabbed the metal hook, looped the long rope over and around your shoulder and flew down onto the ground. “Here.” You handed the grappling hook over to a very enthusiastic looking Wind.

“Thanks!” Wind then immediately turned his head away, rushing off somewhere else. “Hey, Wild! I can show it to you now!”

“Kids, am I right?” You laughed to yourself.

“Yeah.” Hyrule chuckled. “I don’t know where he gets all that energy from.”

“Now, where was I-”

You hadn’t even had the chance to detransform before someone shouted your name again. This time it came from Four’s corner of camp, where he, Wars and Legend were busy at a makeshift forging station. “We need a stronger, more stable fire over here.”

“I was doing just fine.” Wars shot back at the small smith. “You asked for a stronger flame and I gave you one.”

“I said a “fire,” not a “blaze!” You nearly singed my eyebrows off!”

Guess Wars really wasn’t quite as good with his control with the Fire Rod as he thought. Whose brilliant idea was it to use a weapon meant for combat for forging, instead? But then again, who asks an Enchantix fairy, a fully fledged Guardian Fairy, to be a living furnace, as if that’s somehow better? Probably the same kind of person who asks that same fairy to get a rope unstuck from a tree.

And the smithing group had devolved into a petty argument while you weren’t paying attention. Maybe this could be your out, let you finally get back to Hyrule. But if you were a betting girl…

You turned your eyes to Time, Sky and Twilight who were sitting around a small fire, watching a kettle of water start to whistle. “Let me guess, you’ve got a request for me, too?”

The oldest thought for a moment before giving you a cheeky smile. “No, but I’m sure Wolfie would appreciate an eye-in-the-sky helping him during his patrol.”

Yeah, it was definitely a mistake to tell them about your powers.

--

[theocddiaries]

[Minutes later, Ivo is still locked in the bathroom, crying inconsolably and loudly. Rouge and Shadow are on the couch, lounging and staring at the ceiling, she with her back against the couch, and he with his head in his hands] Robotnik: FORSAKEN! I'VE BEEN FORSAKEN! I AM LOVELEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESS! Shadow [through gritted teeth]: Rouge, tell him to shut up already. Rouge: Eggman, stop being so annoying! Robotnik [through sobs and hiccups]: Oh, sure! Ignore the drama! I’ll put duct tape over my mouth so I don’t bother you two with my broken heart’s laments! Shadow: The duct tape’s in the second drawer, thank you. [The front door opens abruptly, and both of them sit up tense. Abraham enters the house like a basilisk, followed by Knuckles and Sonic, trying to stop him] Abraham: What’s this about you going to a party!? Robotnik: God, the last one I needed: the tin soldier. Knuckles: Sorry, Rouge, I thought he knew! Shadow [to Rouge]: Didn’t you take away his keys?! You all come in like this is a free-for-all! Abraham: Rouge, I thought you were going to come have dinner with me so I wouldn't spend the night alone! Shadow: When was that decided?! Robotnik: Well, too bad, 'cause they’re going to a party and leaving me alone! Sonic: Why is that man yelling in the bathroom??? Shadow: Why do you think? Rouge, because of these messes, I’ve been telling you, you need to get a planner! Rouge: Stop with the planner! Are you getting commission for recommending them?! Knuckles: But, who are we going to have dinner with? I’m getting confused. Robotnik: You’re having dinner with everyone except me! Sonic: Don't you think there's a reason why? Shadow: Don’t destabilize him even more! Sonic: Has he ever been stable? Rouge: People, calm down, it's okay! Robotnik: No, it’s not okay! Abraham: I’ve got the turkey ready to go! How could you do this? Shadow: Abraham, don’t start with the victim act. Robotnik [sniffs]: I feel so alone… Shadow: YOU STOP IT , TOO! Rouge: Look, we’re all adults here. Our plan is to go to Amy’s party. Yours can be whatever you want. Period! [Everyone goes silent except for Eggman, who continues sobbing from the bathroom] Abraham: Well, hm, I’ll go buy a quail because the turkey is too much for me alone… Happy New Year, guys. Robotnik: Happy New Year, Abraham, darling. [Abraham leaves the house. The couples exchange a look. Knuckles rubs Rouge's arm] Sonic [goes to hug Shadow by the shoulders]: Thank goodness, it was about time you two stood your ground. They always do whatever they want with you. Rouge: I actually feel sorry for them… Shadow: I mean, we can always go to Amy’s party after twelve-- [As on cue, Eggman comes out of the bathroom and Abraham re-enters the house] Robotnik: Of course! Abraham: We’ll have dinner together and then you can do whatever you want! Sonic [to Shadow]: Softie, you're nothing but a softie. Robotnik: I’ll cook! I’ll make my coq au vin for you! Abraham: No, no, I’ll cook. I already have the turkey. Robotnik: You can choke on that stupid turkey for all I care. Abraham: Hey, don't you dare insult my family’s turkey! [pulls his mustache] Robotnik: Not the mustache, not the mustache! [grabs his hair] [They fight and fall to the floor, continuing there] Knuckles [sighs]: This reminds me of the holidays I used to spend with my tribe.

Part 1

[amethystarachnid]

Now that you have finished the Holiday Special, I would like to request a part two of "Second Chance", please. I would love to see more of their love 🥺 living together, getting married, kids, all the cuteness possible! Thank you

SECOND CHANCE - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 11k ( I can't believe the either)

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said <3

ᯓ★ Part I

ᯓ★ TW(s): none I think (?)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The mornings in the Stark Tower penthouse always start the same: sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, soft music humming in the background (Tony insists on curating daily playlists because "waking up deserves a soundtrack"), and the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen.

Your life has settled into a rhythm, an odd but comforting blend of luxury, chaos, and unfiltered love. It’s been over a year since you moved in, and even though the world now knows you as Tony Stark’s girlfriend—a title that comes with its fair share of public scrutiny—it still feels a little surreal when you wake up next to him.

This morning, you’re the first to wake, your cheek pressed against his chest. His arm is draped lazily around you, his breathing steady, a slight snore rumbling now and then. You stifle a laugh as you carefully extricate yourself from his hold, but before you can fully escape, his fingers tighten around your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is thick with sleep, and his eyes are barely open.

“To get coffee,” you reply, smiling. “Unless you’re planning to hold me hostage all morning.”

He pulls you back against him, burying his face in your hair. “Tempting. But if you’re making coffee, I might let you go.”

You laugh, wriggling free and padding toward the kitchen. By the time the coffee is ready, Tony has shuffled out of bed, his hair a mess and his Stark Industries-branded pajama pants slightly askew. He leans against the counter, watching you with a sleepy grin as you pour two mugs.

“This is why I keep you around,” he says, taking the mug you hand him.

“Oh, really? Not for my sparkling personality or my unparalleled charm?”

He smirks, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “That too. But mostly the coffee.”

Living with Tony means life is never boring. Between his work at Stark Industries, his time with the Avengers, and his natural tendency to attract chaos, there’s always something happening.

Take last week, for example. You came home to find a half-assembled Iron Man suit sprawled across the living room, with Tony perched on the couch, wearing the gauntlet and testing out some new tech.

“Tony, why is there a missile launcher on my side of the couch?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked up, completely unbothered. “Oh, that’s not a missile launcher. It’s a miniaturized EMP. Totally harmless unless you’re an evil robot.”

You sighed, stepping over a piece of armor. “And what about this?”

“That’s a missile launcher,” he admitted, grinning sheepishly. “But don’t worry, it’s deactivated. Probably.”

Despite the chaos, there’s a sweetness to your everyday life. The little moments, like when he sneaks up behind you while you’re cooking, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing kisses to your neck. Or the nights when you curl up on the couch together, a bowl of popcorn between you, as he insists on watching “classic cinema” (which, in Tony’s mind, includes Die Hard and Back to the Future).

And then there are the spicy moments. Tony has a knack for turning the most mundane situations into opportunities for seduction.

Like the time you were trying to reorganize the pantry, and he walked in, shirtless and smirking.

“Need a hand?” he asked, leaning casually against the doorway.

“I’m fine,” you replied, reaching for a high shelf.

But then his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly so you could grab the jar you were reaching for. When he set you down, his hands didn’t move, and you found yourself pressed against the counter, his lips brushing your ear.

“Are you sure you don’t need help with anything else?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Needless to say, the pantry didn’t get reorganized that day.

Of course, being Tony Stark’s girlfriend also means attending more fancy events than you ever thought possible. Charity galas, board meetings, tech expos—you’ve seen it all.

The prep for these events is almost as much fun as the events themselves. Tony insists on helping you pick out your dress, claiming he has an eye for fashion (which, annoyingly, he kind of does).

“What about this one?” you ask, holding up a sleek black gown.

He tilts his head, considering. “It’s nice. But I think something with a little more… drama.”

“Drama?”

He grins, pulling a shimmering gold dress from the rack. “Now this says ‘I’m with Tony Stark.’”

“You mean it says ‘I’m a disco ball.’”

“Exactly.”

In the end, you settle on a dress that’s somewhere between glamorous and understated—enough to make you feel confident but not so flashy that you’ll blend in with Tony’s usual flair.

When the night of the event arrives, he’s already dressed in one of his custom suits, complete with a matching pocket square. He watches you as you get ready, leaning against the doorway with a look that’s equal parts admiration and mischief.

“Are you going to stare at me all night?” you tease as you apply your lipstick.

“Absolutely,” he says without hesitation. “Have you seen yourself?”

By the time you arrive at the event, the cameras are already flashing, reporters shouting questions as you step onto the red carpet. Tony slips his arm around your waist, pulling you close as he waves to the crowd, his confidence as effortless as ever.

“Smile, sweetheart,” he murmurs in your ear. “We’re the hottest couple in the room.”

Inside, the atmosphere is just as dazzling—chandeliers, champagne, and a sea of well-dressed guests. Tony works the room like the natural showman he is, introducing you to CEOs, celebrities, and politicians as if you’ve been a part of this world forever.

But even in the midst of the crowd, his attention is never far from you. He’ll brush his hand against yours as you pass each other, steal a kiss when no one’s looking, or whisper a sarcastic comment about someone’s over-the-top outfit, making you stifle a laugh.

And when the night finally winds down and you’re back home, kicking off your heels and collapsing onto the couch, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as he kisses you like he’s been waiting all night to do it.

“You were amazing tonight,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

“So were you,” you reply, smiling against his lips.

Your life with Tony isn’t perfect—no relationship is. There are arguments, moments when his work takes over, or when the pressure of being in the spotlight feels overwhelming. But through it all, there’s an unshakable bond between you, a sense that no matter what comes your way, you’ll face it together.

Like the time you had a fight over him missing dinner—again—because he was working on a new suit. You stormed out of the lab, fuming, and didn’t speak to him for the rest of the night. But the next morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes, Tony standing in the kitchen wearing an apron that read “Genius, Billionaire, Pancake Enthusiast.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding up a plate of slightly burnt pancakes. “I suck at balancing work and life sometimes. But I’m trying. For you.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him after that.

And then there was the time he got you your own lab space in the tower, complete with every piece of equipment you could ever want.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said, your voice soft with awe as you took it all in.

“I wanted to,” he replied, his hands in his pockets as he watched your reaction. “You deserve to have your own space. Somewhere to build, create, do whatever you want.”

You turned to him, tears in your eyes, and he just shrugged, trying to play it off. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for you.”

The sun is setting, and the sky outside the penthouse windows glows in a palette of oranges, pinks, and purples that melt into one another like watercolors. New York sprawls out below, the city alive with its usual energy—traffic buzzing, lights flickering on, and the faint hum of life that never seems to rest. But up here, in the warmth of Tony’s bedroom, the world feels far away, like it belongs to someone else.

You’re standing at the window, your arms crossed lightly over your chest, wearing nothing but one of Tony’s old Black Sabbath shirts. It’s oversized and soft from years of wear, falling just enough to graze the tops of your thighs. Your hair is slightly messy from the day’s lazy lounging, and your bare feet sink into the plush rug beneath you. The scene feels like something out of a dream, the city sparkling in the distance and the man you love moving behind you.

Tony’s voice breaks the silence, a quiet rumble that makes you smile without even turning to look. “You know, you’re ruining the view.”

You glance back at him, raising an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said what I said,” he replies, lounging on the bed with a lazy smirk. His head is propped up on one hand, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie hanging loose from earlier in the day. He looks like he’s stepped out of a photo shoot for Genius, Billionaire, and Dangerously Handsome Quarterly. “I mean, who’s going to look at a city when you’re standing there looking like that?”

You roll your eyes, fighting the grin that tugs at your lips as you turn back to the window. “That was smooth, Stark. Really. Ten out of ten.”

“Only ten?”

You don’t answer, just shake your head with a soft laugh, and you hear him shift behind you, the mattress creaking slightly as he gets up.

A moment later, his arms slip around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. You relax into him instinctively, your hands coming to rest over his. The warmth of his touch seeps into you, grounding you in a way that only he can.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” you ask softly, your eyes still on the view.

“Tired of what?”

“This.” You gesture out at the city. “The attention. The pressure. Being… Tony Stark.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you feel him press a kiss to the curve of your neck before he answers. “Honestly? Sometimes. But it’s easier now. Because I have you.”

The simplicity of his words catches you off guard, and your heart swells in your chest. You turn in his arms to face him, your hands resting lightly on his chest.

“Is that your way of saying I make your life easier?” you tease, your voice soft.

“Among other things,” he replies, his lips quirking into a smirk. But there’s something in his eyes—something vulnerable, raw, and unguarded—that makes your teasing falter.

“Tony…”

He steps back, his hands slipping from your waist as he reaches into his pocket. You furrow your brow, your curiosity piqued, but before you can ask what he’s doing, he lowers himself to one knee.

Your breath catches, your hand flying to your mouth as the realization hits you.

“Wait. Are you—?”

“Shh,” he says, holding up a finger, though his grin gives away his own nervous excitement. “Let me do this, okay? I’ve been working on my speech all week.”

You can’t help but laugh, your heart pounding as you watch him pull a small velvet box from his pocket. He opens it, revealing a stunning ring that catches the fading sunlight, its brilliance almost as dazzling as the man holding it.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he begins, his voice warm and playful. “‘Tony Stark, on one knee? Is this an elaborate ploy to market a new Stark tech product?’ And honestly, fair question. But no, this isn’t a ploy. This is me—just me—asking you to let me be the luckiest bastard on the planet for the rest of my life.”

Tears well in your eyes as he continues, his usual cockiness tempered by a sincerity that takes your breath away.

“You’ve seen me at my worst,” he says, his voice softening. “And for some insane reason, you stayed. You saw the man under the suit, the flaws, the baggage, all of it, and you still chose me. I don’t know how or why, but you did. And I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

You laugh through your tears, shaking your head as he grins up at you.

“So,” he says, tilting his head slightly, “I figured, why waste any more time? Let’s make this official. What do you say?” He pauses, his grin widening. “And just so you know, the ring is fully customizable. You hate it, we’ll get a new one. We’ll get a dozen. Whatever you want.”

You let out a watery laugh, shaking your head as you kneel down in front of him, your hands cupping his face.

“You are ridiculous,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Yeah, but you love it,” he replies, his grin softening into something more tender.

“I do,” you say, nodding as tears spill down your cheeks. “I love you, Tony Stark. And yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

His eyes light up, and before you know it, he’s pulling you into a kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around you as if he’s afraid to let go. You laugh against his lips, the sound mingling with his own as he holds you close.

When he finally pulls back, he slips the ring onto your finger with a precision that makes you laugh again.

“Look at that,” he says, holding your hand up to admire the ring. “Perfect fit. Must be fate.”

“Or really good measurements,” you tease, your smile so wide it hurts.

“Hey, don’t ruin my moment,” he says, feigning offense. But his grin gives him away, and he pulls you into another kiss, the world outside forgotten as the two of you bask in the quiet, overwhelming joy of the moment.

Later, as the city lights twinkle beyond the windows and the stars begin to dot the night sky, you find yourselves tangled together in bed, the ring still sparkling on your finger.

“Did you really practice that speech all week?” you ask, tracing patterns on his chest.

“Absolutely,” he replies without hesitation. “You think I just pull that kind of romance out of thin air?”

You laugh, your hand resting over his heart. “Well, it worked. So, congratulations, Mr. Stark. You’re officially stuck with me.”

He smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

And as you drift off to sleep in his arms, the city a distant hum beyond the glass, you can’t help but think that he’s right. This—this love, this life, this man—is the best decision you’ve ever made, too.

The decision to get married in Italy happens almost instantly, and of course, it’s Tony who suggests it. One evening, just a week after the proposal, you’re both curled up on the couch, sharing a pizza and brainstorming wedding ideas. You suggest something small and simple, maybe even local, but Tony scoffs so dramatically that you almost choke on your bite.

“Small and simple? Sweetheart, this is a Stark wedding,” he says, gesturing grandly like he’s unveiling a master plan. “We can’t just have a backyard barbecue and call it a day.”

“I wasn’t suggesting a barbecue,” you argue, laughing. “Just… something intimate. Lowkey.”

Tony narrows his eyes as if he’s trying to comprehend an entirely foreign concept. “Intimate, sure. But lowkey? Where’s the drama? The pizzazz? The flair?” He stands abruptly, grabbing his tablet off the coffee table and pulling up images of sprawling Italian villas, sparkling lakes, and rolling hills. “Italy. Lake Como. Picture it: sunset ceremony, wine that’ll make you cry tears of joy, and a backdrop so gorgeous it’ll make even me look like an afterthought.”

You lean over the tablet, your fingers brushing his as you swipe through the photos. You hate to admit it, but it does look incredible.

“Lake Como, huh?” you say, tilting your head.

“Trust me,” he replies, already beaming like he’s won. “You’ll love it.”

And just like that, you’re planning a destination wedding.

The next few months are a whirlwind of activity, full of laughter, occasional bickering, and more spreadsheets than you ever thought possible. Tony hires an elite team of wedding planners, but true to form, he insists on being involved in every detail, much to their dismay.

One morning, as you’re going over the guest list, Tony lounges across the couch, sipping an espresso and scrolling through his tablet.

“Okay, so I’ve narrowed down the guest list to 150 people,” you say, looking up from your notebook.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Only 150? What about the Stark Industries board? Or the press?”

You groan, throwing a pillow at him. “Tony, this isn’t a corporate launch party. It’s our wedding. We’re not inviting the press.”

He dodges the pillow with a laugh, setting down his tablet to pull you into his lap. “Fine, fine. No press.”

Moments like this—when it’s just the two of you, teasing and laughing—make the chaos of planning worthwhile.

The dress becomes a point of contention about halfway through the process.

Tony insists on knowing every single detail of the wedding, from the floral arrangements (white roses with touches of blush pink) to the menu (a five-course Italian feast that he swears will ruin you for all other food). But when it comes to your wedding dress, you refuse to budge.

“You’re not seeing it until I walk down the aisle,” you say firmly one afternoon as you finalize plans for your first fitting.

Tony stares at you like you’ve just announced you’re canceling the wedding altogether. “Wait, what? Why not? I’m paying for it!”

“And it’s going to be a surprise,” you say sweetly, patting his cheek.

“Surprises are overrated,” he grumbles, crossing his arms.

“Not this one,” you reply, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Despite his protests, you stick to your guns, and Tony spends the next few months sulking every time the dress is mentioned. You catch him trying to bribe your best friend for details once (“Come on, just tell me if it’s got sparkles”), but she doesn’t crack, much to your delight.

Planning a wedding with Tony Stark also means dealing with the occasional unexpected distraction.

Like the time he accidentally blew up part of his workshop while testing a new prototype. You were on a video call with the wedding planner, discussing seating arrangements, when the explosion rattled the entire tower.

“Tony!” you shouted, rushing down to the lab.

When you got there, he was covered in soot, grinning sheepishly as Dum-E sprayed him with a fire extinguisher.

“Don’t worry,” he said, coughing. “It’s under control. Mostly.”

“You’re going to be late to the cake tasting,” you scolded, dragging him upstairs.

He laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You love me even when I’m a disaster.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, though you couldn’t hide your smile.

Before you know it, the big day arrives.

The villa on Lake Como is even more stunning than you imagined. The ceremony is set up on a sprawling terrace overlooking the water, with rows of chairs draped in white fabric and flowers adorning every surface. The air is warm and fragrant, the sound of the lake gently lapping against the shore creating a serene backdrop.

As the sun begins to set, painting the sky in shades of gold and lavender, you stand in a quiet room with your best friend, your dress perfectly fitted, your heart pounding.

“You ready?” she asks, smiling as she adjusts your veil.

You nod, taking a deep breath. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

Meanwhile, Tony waits at the altar, looking dashing in his custom tuxedo. But for all his usual confidence, there’s a nervous energy about him as he glances toward the entrance. Rhodey nudges him, grinning.

“Relax,” Rhodey says. “She’s not going to stand you up.”

“Shut up,” Tony mutters, though he can’t help but smile.

When the music starts, and the doors open, everything else fades.

You step into view, and for a moment, Tony forgets how to breathe. You’re radiant, your dress a perfect blend of elegance and simplicity, and the look in your eyes as you meet his gaze is enough to make his knees weak.

As you walk down the aisle, your heart swells with love and anticipation. When you reach Tony, he takes your hands, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“You’re stunning,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply, smiling through your tears.

The ceremony is beautiful, filled with laughter and heartfelt vows that make everyone in attendance misty-eyed. Tony’s vow, in true Stark fashion, is equal parts romantic and funny.

“I never thought I’d find someone who could put up with my nonsense,” he says, his voice warm. “But then you came along and not only put up with it, but somehow made me better. You’re my partner, my equal, and the love of my life. And I promise to spend the rest of my days loving you—flaws, genius, and all.”

Your vows are just as heartfelt, and by the time you exchange rings, there’s not a dry eye in the house.

The reception is a blur of joy and celebration. Guests dance under strings of twinkling lights, the food is every bit as incredible as Tony promised, and the speeches are both hilarious and touching.

But for you and Tony, the highlight of the night is the quiet moment you steal away from the crowd. You find yourselves on a balcony overlooking the lake, the stars reflected in the water below.

Tony wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“So,” he says softly, his voice filled with wonder. “We did it.”

“We did,” you reply, leaning back against him.

He turns you around, his hands framing your face as he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world. “Mrs. Stark,” he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

You smile, your hands resting on his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

He kisses you then, slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that feels like a promise. And as the stars shine above and the world falls away, you know that this—this love, this life, this man—is everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more.

The first days of being married feel like a dream you never want to wake up from. The wedding was magical, but the aftermath—the quiet moments where it’s just the two of you—is even better. You wake up the morning after the wedding in Tony’s arms, sunlight spilling through the villa’s curtains. His hair is an endearing mess, his face softened by sleep. When he finally stirs, the first thing he does is pull you closer, murmuring a sleepy “Good morning, Mrs. Stark.” The words make your heart skip a beat every time he says them, and he takes full advantage of that, slipping the phrase into every conversation for the next several days.

“Mrs. Stark, do you want pancakes or waffles?” “Mrs. Stark, are you aware of how incredible you look in my shirt?” “Mrs. Stark, could you pass me that screwdriver? Thanks, you’re the best wife ever.”

You let him have his fun because, truthfully, you love it.

The honeymoon in Italy stretches on for a few more days, spent exploring charming lakeside towns, indulging in decadent food, and stealing kisses in picturesque corners like a couple from a movie. Tony insists on spoiling you at every turn, booking private tours and surprise candlelit dinners. He claims it’s to celebrate “locking down the deal of a lifetime,” but you know it’s because he can’t resist going all out when it comes to you.

When you finally return to New York, reality hits in the form of a media frenzy. The press had already been obsessed with your relationship before, but your wedding—Tony Stark marrying the woman who tamed him—has become the headline of the year. Paparazzi swarm the tower, headlines range from heartfelt to ridiculous (“Genius Billionaire Finally Meets His Match” and “Mrs. Stark: Who Is She, and How Did She Do It?”), and fans on social media dissect every detail of the wedding pictures that somehow made their way online.

Tony, of course, takes it all in stride, basking in the attention like it’s his natural habitat. He gives you a cheeky grin one morning as he reads an article aloud, his feet propped up on the kitchen counter. “‘Tony Stark’s wedding sets new standard for billionaire romance.’ Sounds about right, don’t you think, Mrs. Stark?”

You roll your eyes, stealing his coffee cup and taking a sip. “Are you going to call me that forever?”

“Forever,” he replies, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Get used to it.”

Despite the chaos outside, life inside the tower settles into a new rhythm. You fall into a comfortable routine with Tony, your days filled with work, laughter, and the kind of love that feels almost too good to be true. The other Avengers quickly adapt to your new title as well, with Clint jokingly saluting you as “the boss’s boss” and Natasha subtly slipping ��Mrs. Stark” into conversation whenever she can just to see you smile.

The real surprise comes a few months later. You’re in the middle of a particularly lazy afternoon, curled up on the couch with a book while Tony tinkers with something in the lab, when you start to notice a pattern. You’ve been unusually tired lately, your emotions swinging wildly between laughter and tears, and then there’s the morning sickness that hit you out of nowhere. At first, you chalked it up to stress or maybe a lingering flu, but now… you have a feeling there’s something more.

The thought sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you, and the next morning, you quietly sneak out to buy a test. When the results come back positive, you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the little plastic stick in disbelief.

You’re pregnant.

The realization hits you like a tidal wave. You and Tony are going to have a baby. The thought fills you with so much joy you can hardly contain it, but it’s mixed with a flutter of nerves. How do you tell the man who built a suit of armor to protect himself that he’s about to become a dad?

That evening, after mulling over a dozen ideas, you settle on something simple but quintessentially Stark. You order a tiny baby onesie online and have it customized with the words, Iron Baby No. 1 on the way, ETA nine months. When it arrives a few days later, you hide it in a gift box and wait for the perfect moment.

The moment comes one evening when Tony’s in the kitchen, making what he calls his “famous” grilled cheese. He’s in a relaxed mood, humming along to the playlist he’s put on, and you decide this is it.

“Hey,” you say casually, walking over with the box behind your back.

He glances up from the stove, his face lighting up when he sees you. “Hey, gorgeous. What’s up?”

“I got you a present,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

Tony raises an eyebrow, setting down the spatula. “A present? For me? What’s the occasion?”

“Just open it,” you say, handing him the box.

He grins, clearly intrigued, and tears into the wrapping paper like a kid on Christmas morning. When he lifts the lid and sees the tiny onesie, his expression shifts from confusion to realization, his eyes widening as he reads the words.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at the onesie like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. Then he looks up at you, his eyes shimmering with tears.

“Are you serious?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, tears welling in your own eyes. “I’m serious. We’re having a baby.”

Tony sets the box down carefully on the counter before pulling you into his arms. His embrace is so tight it nearly takes your breath away, but you don’t mind. You can feel him trembling slightly as he buries his face in your neck, his emotions pouring out in a way that’s so rare for him.

“I’m going to be a dad,” he says, his voice cracking. “Holy shit. I’m going to be a dad.”

“You are,” you whisper, your hands running soothingly over his back.

When he finally pulls back, his face is wet with tears, but his smile is brighter than you’ve ever seen it. He cups your face in his hands, kissing you deeply before resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he says, his voice full of awe. “I love you so much. And I love…” He places a hand gently on your stomach, his touch reverent. “I love this little one already.”

You laugh softly, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I had a feeling you’d be happy.”

“Happy? Are you kidding?” He laughs, though his voice is still thick with emotion. “This is… this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. To us.”

Over the next few weeks, Tony shifts into full-on protective mode. He insists on accompanying you to every doctor’s appointment, interrogates the OB-GYN like they’re a candidate for a top-secret Stark Industries position, and starts researching the best baby gear money can buy. You come home one day to find him in the nursery he’s set up, designing what he calls “baby-safe tech” to keep the little one entertained and protected.

“Tony,” you say, laughing as you lean against the doorframe. “You do realize we’re not raising a baby genius in a lab, right?”

“Speak for yourself,” he replies, not looking up from his holographic blueprint. “This kid’s going to be the smartest, safest, most spoiled little Stark in history.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with love. Seeing him like this—so invested, so excited—makes you fall for him all over again.

As the weeks turn into months, the excitement grows, both inside the tower and out. The press catches wind of the pregnancy, and the news spreads like wildfire. Headlines range from adoring to absurd, but you and Tony take it all in stride, focusing on the joy of building your family together.

One night, as you’re lying in bed, Tony rests his hand on your growing bump, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.

“You know,” he says softly, his voice laced with wonder, “I used to think I’d never have this. A family. Someone to love me for who I am, not what I can give them.”

You reach up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over his stubble. “And now?”

“Now I know I was wrong,” he replies, leaning down to kiss you.

The idea for the gender reveal is Tony’s, though it surprises you because he’s usually one for grand gestures. But as he gently suggests the idea of keeping it just the two of you, something in his voice—soft, hopeful—makes your heart melt.

“You’re sure?” you ask one evening, resting your hands on your growing belly as you sit on the couch. “No big party? No fireworks shaped like an Iron Man suit?”

Tony grins, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Sweetheart, I’ve done the fireworks. I’ve done the parties. But this… this is different. This is us.” He pauses, glancing at your belly with a tenderness that still catches you off guard. “I want it to be about you and me and the peanut.”

“Peanut?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, peanut for now. Until they grow into something more Stark-like. Maybe ‘genius’ or ‘CEO.’”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays how much you love him. “Fine. Let’s do something just for us.”

A week later, you’re in the kitchen with Tony, standing before a modest but beautiful cake. The frosting is plain white, with delicate swirls along the edges. Inside, the baker promised, is either blue or pink to reveal the baby’s gender.

Tony’s practically buzzing with excitement as he hands you the knife. “You do the honors, Mrs. Stark.”

You take the knife, your hand trembling slightly, but before you can cut, he places his hand over yours.

“Wait,” he says, his voice softer now. He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple. “No matter what, this kid’s going to have the best parents in the world. Okay?”

Tears sting your eyes, and you nod, smiling up at him. “Okay.”

Together, you press the knife into the cake and lift the first slice, your breath catching as the color is revealed.

“It’s a girl,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

Tony stares at the pink cake, his mouth slightly open. Then his face breaks into the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen. “A girl,” he repeats, as if testing the words. He looks at you, his eyes shining. “We’re having a little Starkette.”

You laugh through your tears, setting the knife down to wrap your arms around him. He holds you tightly, his hand gently cradling the back of your head.

“I hope she’s just like you,” he murmurs against your hair.

“And I hope she’s just like you,” you reply, pulling back to meet his gaze.

“God, I hope not,” he jokes, though his voice is thick with emotion. “The world can barely handle one of me.”

In the weeks that follow, Tony becomes even more attached to your growing belly. Every evening, without fail, he rests his head against it and talks to the baby.

“Hey, Starkette,” he says one night as you lie in bed, his hand gently rubbing circles on your belly. “It’s me, your dad. I just want you to know that you’re already smarter than half the people I’ve ever worked with. And that’s saying something.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “Tony, she’s not even born yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies, pressing a soft kiss to your belly. “She’s already a Stark. Genius is in her DNA.”

Sometimes, he sings to her—soft, off-key renditions of songs that make you laugh until your sides hurt. Other times, he reads aloud from baby books, though he always adds his own commentary.

“Oh, look at this,” he says one evening, flipping through a parenting book. “‘Babies cry to communicate their needs.’ Really? That’s groundbreaking information. Did we pay for this book?”

Despite his jokes, you can see how deeply he’s invested in this new chapter of your lives. The sight of him doting on you and the baby makes you fall in love with him all over again.

Choosing a name becomes an adventure in itself.

Tony suggests everything from obscure historical figures to names of constellations. At one point, he even suggests “Arc,” claiming it’s a nod to his arc reactor and “totally cool.”

“Tony,” you say, barely suppressing your laughter. “We are not naming our daughter after a piece of tech.”

“Fine,” he replies, pretending to sulk. “But don’t come crying to me when she asks why she doesn’t have a cool name.”

After weeks of debate, you finally settle on a name that feels perfect: Morgan.

“Why Morgan?” Tony asks one evening as you lie together on the couch.

You shrug, smiling softly. “It’s strong but sweet. And it feels… right.”

Tony repeats the name under his breath, testing it out. Then he smiles, nodding. “Morgan Stark. Yeah, that’s perfect.”

The day Morgan arrives starts like any other. You wake up to the sound of Tony tinkering in the lab, but by mid-morning, the first contractions hit.

“Tony!” you shout from the living room, clutching the back of the couch.

He appears within seconds, his eyes wide. “What? What is it? Is the tower on fire again?”

You glare at him, though the pain is already making you wince. “No, you idiot. The baby’s coming.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his face going pale. Then he snaps into action, grabbing your hospital bag and practically carrying you to the car.

The ride to the hospital is a blur of Tony panicking and you trying not to laugh between contractions.

“Do we have everything?” he asks, his voice frantic. “The bag? The paperwork? Did we forget anything? Oh God, what if we—”

“Tony,” you interrupt, reaching for his hand. “It’s fine. I promise. Just focus on driving.”

When you arrive at the hospital, Tony is a mix of nerves and excitement. He holds your hand through every contraction, whispering words of encouragement and pressing kisses to your forehead.

“You’re amazing,” he says as you breathe through the pain. “You’ve got this. You’re a freaking superhero.”

The delivery is intense, and at one point, you think you might actually break Tony’s hand with how tightly you’re gripping it. But he doesn’t complain, just keeps murmuring reassurances and brushing your hair back from your face.

And then, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the first cry.

“It’s a girl,” the doctor announces, holding up your squirming, pink-faced baby.

Tears stream down your face as they place her on your chest. Tony stares in awe, his eyes glassy as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You nod, your heart overflowing as you gaze down at your daughter. “Hi, Morgan,” you murmur, your voice trembling.

In the hours that follow, Tony can hardly take his eyes off Morgan. He holds her like she’s the most precious thing in the world, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he cradles her tiny form.

“She’s so small,” he marvels, staring down at her. “How can something so tiny have such a big impact?”

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “That’s what love does.”

Tony looks at you then, his eyes full of gratitude and adoration. “Thank you,” he says softly. “For her. For us.”

Over the next few days, the tower becomes a hub of celebration. The Avengers take turns visiting, each one fawning over Morgan in their own way. Even Clint, who jokes about having enough kids of his own, is smitten.

But at the end of the day, it’s the quiet moments with just the three of you that mean the most.

One evening, as you sit in the nursery, watching Tony rock Morgan to sleep, you feel an overwhelming sense of peace.

“Welcome to the world, Morgan Stark,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her tiny forehead.

The first days at the hospital are a whirlwind of exhaustion, joy, and learning curves that neither you nor Tony could have anticipated. You’re still lying in the hospital bed, Morgan nestled in your arms, when the nurse comes in with a soft smile and an armful of pamphlets. She explains everything from feeding to burping, swaddling to diaper changing. You listen attentively, but Tony’s focus is entirely on Morgan. His hands are gentle but a little awkward as he cradles her tiny head, his face full of wonder.

When the nurse shows him how to hold Morgan correctly, Tony nods along seriously, but the second she leaves, he looks at you with mock indignation. “I think she thought I didn’t know how to hold a baby,” he says, feigning offense.

You laugh softly, your body still sore but your heart full. “Do you?”

“I’m a genius, remember?” he says, lifting Morgan a little higher, though he holds her like she’s made of glass. “But… okay, I might have needed a little help.”

It becomes clear quickly that while Tony can invent world-changing technology, mastering baby care is a completely different challenge. He spends fifteen minutes trying to figure out how to swaddle Morgan properly, only for her to immediately kick her legs free. “It’s a conspiracy,” he mutters, trying again as you laugh from the bed. “I’m telling you, she’s already smarter than me.”

Feeding Morgan proves to be a team effort. The nurses show you how to breastfeed while Tony hovers nearby, asking a million questions that make the staff chuckle. “Is she getting enough? How do we know? What if she’s still hungry?”

“Tony,” you say gently, placing a hand on his arm. “She’s fine. Trust me.”

He sighs but nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Later, when it’s time to bottle feed, Tony insists on being the one to do it. He sits in the chair beside your bed, Morgan nestled in his arms, and looks up at you with a proud grin. “I think she likes me,” he says as she sucks greedily on the bottle.

“She’s a Stark,” you reply with a smile. “Of course, she likes you.”

The nurses come in periodically to check on you and the baby, and each time, they offer more advice. By the end of your stay, your head is swimming with information, but Tony’s enthusiasm makes it easier. He takes notes—actual notes—and even sketches out diagrams for things like diaper changes.

“Who knew being a parent involved so much engineering?” he jokes, but there’s a genuine determination in his eyes.

Finally, after a few days, you’re cleared to go home. The excitement of leaving the hospital is quickly tempered by the reality of the paparazzi camped outside. News of Morgan’s birth had leaked almost immediately, and now the world is desperate for the first glimpse of Tony Stark’s baby girl.

You sit in the hospital room, holding Morgan close, while Tony stands by the window, peering through the blinds. “It’s like a circus out there,” he mutters, turning to look at you. “They’re not getting a single shot of her face. Not until we decide.”

You nod, your protective instincts flaring. “How do we get past them?”

Tony smirks, his confidence returning. “I’ve got a plan.”

The plan involves Happy pulling up to the hospital’s front entrance in a decoy car while you, Tony, and Morgan slip out through a back exit. Wrapped in a soft pink blanket and nestled securely in your arms, Morgan is hidden from view as you rush to an unmarked SUV waiting in the alley. Tony shields you both, his arm around your shoulders, and Happy drives like a man on a mission once you’re inside.

By the time you arrive at the tower, the paparazzi are still circling the hospital, none the wiser. Tony grins as he steps out of the car, glancing at you. “Mission accomplished, Mrs. Stark.”

Inside the tower, the chaos of the outside world melts away. The nursery is ready, every detail meticulously planned by Tony. The walls are painted a soft, calming gray, accented with touches of pink and gold. A custom crib sits in the corner, along with shelves stocked with books and toys.

You place Morgan in her crib for the first time, your heart swelling as you watch her tiny chest rise and fall. Tony stands beside you, his hand resting on your lower back.

“She’s perfect,” he whispers, his voice full of awe.

The first night at home is… an adventure. Morgan wakes up every two hours, her cries piercing through the quiet of the penthouse. You take turns getting up with her, though Tony insists on doing most of the work.

“You just gave birth,” he says, gently taking Morgan from your arms when she cries again at three in the morning. “I’ve got this. You sleep.”

You don’t argue, though you can’t resist peeking into the nursery an hour later. You find Tony sitting in the rocking chair, Morgan cradled against his chest as he hums softly. It’s a sight that makes your heart ache with love.

In the days that follow, you and Tony fall into a rhythm. It’s far from perfect—there are diaper disasters, sleepless nights, and moments where you both feel completely overwhelmed—but there’s also so much joy.

One afternoon, you walk into the nursery to find Tony lying on the floor beside Morgan’s playmat, his finger grasped tightly in her tiny hand. He looks up at you with a goofy grin. “She’s got a strong grip,” he says. “She’s going to be an inventor. Or maybe a pilot.”

You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Or maybe she’ll be an artist. Or a writer.”

“Whatever she wants,” Tony agrees, leaning over to kiss your temple.

Mealtimes become a highlight of your days. Tony insists on taking charge of the bottle feeds, claiming it’s “bonding time” with his daughter. He talks to her as she eats, telling her stories about his adventures as Iron Man and the time he built a robot that accidentally tried to take over the world.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his tone light. “We’ll teach you to build better robots.”

When Morgan isn’t eating or sleeping, she’s the center of attention. Tony spends hours playing with her, making silly faces and inventing little gadgets to keep her entertained. One evening, he proudly unveils a tiny Stark-branded mobile that lights up and plays lullabies.

“Look at that,” he says as he hangs it over her crib. “Custom-made for the best baby in the world.”

You smile, leaning against him as you watch Morgan’s eyes widen at the softly glowing lights. “You’re going to spoil her rotten.”

“Absolutely,” he replies without hesitation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

Despite the exhaustion, these first days are some of the happiest of your life. There’s a quiet magic in the way your little family is coming together, in the small moments that remind you of how much love surrounds you.

One night, as you sit on the couch with Morgan asleep in your arms, Tony comes over and sits beside you. He leans down to kiss Morgan’s forehead, then rests his head against your shoulder.

“We did good,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

You smile, your heart full. “Yeah, we did.”

And as you sit there, with your daughter in your arms and your husband by your side, you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful journey.

Morgan’s first year is a series of milestones that come at you faster than you’re ready for. One morning, as you’re feeding her in the kitchen, her tiny fingers gripping the edge of the high chair, you notice something new. She’s gnawing relentlessly on one of her teething rings, a tiny scowl of determination on her face.

“Tony,” you call over your shoulder. He’s tinkering with some gadget at the counter, but he looks up immediately.

“What’s up?”

You motion toward Morgan, who has abandoned her teething ring and is now attempting to bite the tray of her high chair. “I think we’re entering teething territory.”

Tony sets down his tools and comes over, crouching to her eye level. “What’s going on, little Starkette? You trying to eat your way to freedom?”

Morgan responds with a high-pitched squeal that makes both of you laugh.

Teething quickly becomes a challenging phase, and Morgan is not shy about letting the world know how much she dislikes it. She chews on everything—her toys, your fingers, Tony’s hoodie strings. One night, as you’re watching a movie together, she grabs the edge of Tony’s expensive leather belt and shoves it into her mouth.

“Hey, hey!” Tony says, gently pulling it away. “That’s Italian leather, kiddo!”

You laugh, handing her a proper teething toy. “Welcome to parenthood. Nothing is safe.”

Tony takes the challenge of teething head-on, dedicating hours to researching remedies. He orders every teething toy imaginable and even develops a custom one that vibrates slightly to soothe her gums. When he proudly presents it to you, you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Only our child would have a high-tech teething toy,” you tease.

“Hey,” Tony says, holding up a hand. “If she’s going to chew on something, it might as well be Stark-approved.”

Despite the sleepless nights and the constant need for gum-soothing gel, there are sweet moments too. Like the way Morgan clings to you when she’s particularly cranky, her tiny hands fisting your shirt as she nuzzles into your chest. Or the way Tony sings softly to her as he rocks her in his arms, his voice low and soothing even when he’s dead tired.

One morning, as you’re sitting on the living room floor with Morgan in your lap, she surprises you by letting out a string of sounds that almost—almost—sound like words.

“Ba-ba-da-da,” she babbles, her little fists waving excitedly.

You gasp, looking over at Tony, who’s lounging on the couch with a cup of coffee. “Did you hear that?”

Tony grins, setting his mug down. “Of course I did. That’s pure Stark genius right there.”

“She’s just babbling,” you say, though your heart swells with pride.

“Don’t sell her short,” Tony replies, scooping her up and lifting her high in the air. Morgan squeals with delight, her chubby arms reaching for him. “She’s probably already working out her first patent.”

As the weeks pass, Morgan’s babbling becomes more frequent and animated. She talks to her toys, to you, to Tony, and even to Dum-E, who dutifully beeps in response. One day, as Tony is feeding her, she looks up at him with her big brown eyes and says something that sounds suspiciously like “Dada.”

Tony freezes, the spoon halfway to her mouth. “Did you just… did you just call me Dada?”

You’re watching from the doorway, and you can’t help but laugh. “I think she did.”

Tony’s face lights up like it’s Christmas morning. He sets the spoon down and pulls Morgan into his arms, holding her close. “That’s right, baby girl,” he says, his voice full of emotion. “I’m Dada.”

Not long after, Morgan starts to show signs that she’s ready to crawl. She spends hours on her belly, wiggling and rocking back and forth as she tries to figure it out. Tony, ever the innovator, decides to “help” her by building a tiny baby-sized robot that moves just out of her reach, encouraging her to chase it.

“Tony,” you say, crossing your arms as you watch him test it in the living room. “You can’t engineer her milestones.”

“I’m not engineering,” he insists, though his grin betrays him. “I’m motivating.”

Morgan seems to agree because within a few days, she’s crawling across the floor with surprising speed, determined to catch the little robot. You cheer her on, clapping and laughing as she finally grabs it and lets out a triumphant giggle.

From that point on, nothing in the penthouse is safe. Morgan is everywhere, pulling herself up on furniture, opening cabinets, and exploring every nook and cranny she can reach. Tony installs baby-proofing measures at an alarming rate, though he still insists on letting her “experiment” within reason.

“She’s curious,” he says one evening as Morgan pulls herself up on the edge of the coffee table. “That’s a good thing.”

“It is,” you agree, though you keep a close eye on her as she wobbles precariously.

The day Morgan takes her first steps is one you’ll never forget. She’s standing near the couch, holding onto the edge for support, when suddenly she lets go. You and Tony are sitting on the floor, a few feet away, watching her with wide eyes.

“Come on, Morgan,” Tony coaxes, holding out his hands. “You can do it.”

She wobbles, her little legs unsteady, but then she takes one step. And then another.

“Tony,” you whisper, your hands flying to your mouth.

“I see it,” he says, his voice filled with awe.

Morgan takes three more steps before tumbling into Tony’s arms, giggling as he scoops her up and spins her around.

“You did it!” he exclaims, pressing kisses all over her face. “That’s my girl!”

You’re crying by the time he looks at you, and he grins, holding Morgan out toward you. “Your turn, Mom.”

You pull her into your arms, kissing her forehead and whispering how proud you are. It’s a moment that feels almost too perfect to be real.

As Morgan grows, her vocabulary starts to expand. Her first word, unsurprisingly, is “Dada,” which Tony proudly declares is the best thing he’s ever heard. But her second word, “Mama,” quickly follows, and you feel an overwhelming surge of love when she says it for the first time.

She picks up other words too—“up,” “no,” and “cookie” become favorites—but her babbling remains a constant source of entertainment. She has long, animated “conversations” with you and Tony, complete with hand gestures and facial expressions.

“She’s definitely your daughter,” you tease Tony one evening as Morgan waves her arms dramatically, babbling at the top of her lungs.

“She’s got your sass,” he counters, smirking.

Through it all, the two of you marvel at how quickly she’s growing and changing. Every milestone feels like a little miracle, a reminder of just how much love and joy she’s brought into your lives.

And as you watch her toddle across the living room one evening, her tiny feet padding against the floor, you realize that this is what happiness truly looks like. A life full of love, laughter, and the sweetest little girl in the world.

Life with toddler Morgan is a delightful mix of chaos, laughter, and the kind of exhaustion you wouldn’t trade for anything. She’s a whirlwind of energy, always exploring, always asking questions—or rather, yelling, “Why?” in her tiny voice as she points to every object she can find. You and Tony quickly learn that raising a toddler is a whole new kind of challenge, but also, it’s endlessly rewarding.

From the moment Morgan wakes up in the morning, she’s a ball of energy. She’s in the phase where she wants to do everything “by herself,” which means you often find her trying to pull on her socks upside-down or insisting on pouring her own juice, resulting in small floods on the kitchen counter.

“Did we adopt a tiny Tony Stark?” you ask one morning, watching her stubbornly refuse your help as she attempts to zip up her jacket.

“Excuse me,” Tony replies, sipping his coffee while lounging against the counter. “She’s a perfect blend of your determination and my brilliance.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, arching an eyebrow as Morgan gives up on the zipper and stomps her foot in frustration. “Your brilliance is why we now have a child who insists on building towers out of every item in the living room, including the remote and your sunglasses.”

Tony grins, crouching beside Morgan to help her with the zipper. “Don’t crush her creativity, babe.”

The penthouse is now toddler-proofed to a degree that feels both excessive and still somehow inadequate. Every corner has been padded, every sharp object locked away. Still, Morgan manages to find ways to keep you both on your toes. She’s discovered the joy of climbing, which means nothing is out of reach—not even the countertop.

One afternoon, as you’re folding laundry, you hear a crash from the kitchen, followed by Tony’s panicked voice.

“Morgan! No! You can’t—oh, my God, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You rush in to find Morgan perched precariously on a stool, reaching for the cookie jar on the highest shelf. Tony is holding the stool steady, looking both impressed and horrified.

“She’s got determination,” he says, glancing at you with a sheepish grin.

“She’s going to give me a heart attack,” you reply, scooping her up and giving her a stern look. “No more climbing, little miss.”

Morgan giggles, clearly unbothered by the reprimand. “Cookies!” she declares, pointing at the jar.

“She’s definitely your kid,” Tony mutters, earning a playful swat on the arm from you.

Despite the chaos, you and Tony try your best to find moments of intimacy. It’s not always easy with a toddler running around, but you both know how important it is to keep your connection strong.

Late at night, after Morgan has gone to bed, you often find yourselves curled up on the couch together, sharing a bottle of wine and talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes, Tony pulls you into his lap and kisses you like it’s the first time all over again, his hands sliding over your back as if he can’t get enough of you.

One night, as you’re lying in bed together, Tony turns to you with that mischievous glint in his eye.

“You know,” he says, trailing his fingers along your arm, “we make pretty amazing kids.”

You smile, already knowing where this is going. “Oh, do we?”

“Yeah,” he says, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “Morgan’s a genius in the making. Imagine if we had another one.”

You laugh softly, turning to face him. “Are you suggesting we try for baby number two?”

“Maybe,” he replies, his voice low and teasing. “I mean, why stop at one when we’re so good at this?”

His hand slips to your waist, pulling you closer, and you roll your eyes even as your heart flutters. “You just want an excuse to keep me barefoot and pregnant, don’t you?”

“Absolutely not,” he says, feigning offense. “I want an excuse to have more of you.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you know it, he’s kissing you deeply, his hands roaming your body like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

“Tony,” you murmur against his lips, but he silences you with another kiss, his intentions clear.

Needless to say, the idea of a second baby becomes a topic of serious discussion—and action.

Meanwhile, Morgan keeps you both busy during the day. She’s entered the “why” phase with a vengeance, questioning everything from why the sky is blue to why Tony’s suit can fly. Tony, ever the teacher, takes her questions as opportunities to explain science in the simplest terms possible.

“Because, kiddo,” he says one afternoon, crouching beside her as she pokes at one of his gauntlets, “when air moves faster, pressure drops, and that helps create lift. That’s how planes—and my suit—stay in the air.”

Morgan looks at him with wide eyes, nodding solemnly before asking, “Why?”

You laugh from the couch, watching Tony try to answer her endless stream of questions. “You’re in for it now,” you tease.

“Don’t worry,” he replies, winking at you. “She’s a quick learner, just like her mom.”

One of your favorite moments comes when Morgan starts to show an interest in music. She’s discovered Tony’s collection of old records and insists on playing them every evening. Watching her dance around the living room, her little feet stomping to the beat, fills your heart with a joy you didn’t know was possible.

“She’s got moves,” Tony says one night, pulling you into his arms as Morgan twirls around in her pajamas.

“She gets that from me,” you reply, grinning.

Tony laughs, spinning you around as the music plays. “Sure she does.”

Despite the busyness of raising a toddler, you and Tony make time for yourselves as a couple. You sneak away for date nights when Happy or Pepper can babysit, though you always end up talking about Morgan within the first ten minutes.

One evening, after putting Morgan to bed, Tony surprises you with a romantic setup on the balcony—candles, champagne, the works.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask, leaning against him as you gaze out at the city lights.

“Do I need an occasion to spoil my wife?” he replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Moments like these remind you of how lucky you are to have him—not just as a partner, but as the most incredible father to your daughter.

As the weeks go by, you find yourself wondering if maybe, just maybe, another little Stark would be the perfect addition to your family. And judging by the way Tony looks at you every time Morgan does something adorable, he’s thinking the same thing.

It’s one of those mornings where the world feels calm, rare moments of peace in the Stark household. The sun is streaming through the windows, and Morgan is sitting at the kitchen table, coloring in her book with her usual level of intensity. Tony is at the counter, making what he swears is “the best pancakes you’ve ever had,” wearing pajama pants and a T-shirt that Morgan insisted he wear because it matches hers—bright pink with a cartoon unicorn on it.

You’re leaning against the counter, holding a mug of tea, trying to figure out the best way to tell Tony the news that’s been buzzing inside you for the past week. You’ve been keeping the pregnancy test hidden in your nightstand, waiting for the right moment to share it. And now, as you watch Tony flip pancakes with Morgan’s enthusiastic commentary in the background, you know the moment is here.

“Hey, Tony?” you say, setting your mug down and crossing the kitchen.

“Yeah, babe?” he answers, not looking up from the griddle.

You slide your arms around his waist from behind, resting your cheek against his back. “I need to tell you something.”

“Hmm?” he hums, turning his head slightly to glance at you over his shoulder.

You pause for a moment, your heart pounding with both excitement and nerves. Then, you step back and pull the small onesie you’ve been hiding out from your pocket. It’s white, with the words “Iron Baby No. 2 ETA: 9 Months” printed on it in bold letters.

Tony turns fully to look at you, his brow furrowed. His eyes fall on the onesie, and it takes a second for the meaning to click. When it does, his jaw drops.

“Wait. Are you—?!”

You nod, unable to keep the smile off your face. “We’re having another baby.”

Tony stares at you, completely still for a beat, before his face lights up with that signature Stark grin. He lets out a laugh of pure joy and scoops you into his arms, spinning you around right there in the middle of the kitchen.

“Another Stark genius on the way!” he exclaims, his voice brimming with pride and excitement. “Oh my God, babe, this is—wow. Just wow.”

Morgan, still at the table, looks up from her coloring book, her little face scrunching in confusion. “Daddy, why you spinning Mommy?”

Tony sets you down gently, his hands still on your waist, and crouches down to Morgan’s level. “Well, peanut, we’ve got some big news to share with you.”

Morgan blinks, her crayon poised midair. “Big news?”

You kneel beside Tony, taking her tiny hand in yours. “You’re going to be a big sister, sweetheart. Mommy’s going to have a baby.”

Morgan’s eyes go wide, and she looks between the two of you. “A baby?!” she squeals, her face lighting up with excitement.

“That’s right,” Tony says, pulling her onto his lap. “There’s a baby growing in Mommy’s tummy right now.”

Morgan stares at your stomach like she’s expecting to see the baby immediately. “Right now?” she asks, her little hands gently pressing against your belly.

“Right now,” you confirm, smiling at her curiosity.

Her expression shifts into something thoughtful, and then she asks, “Can I share my toys with the baby?”

Your heart melts, and Tony lets out a laugh, hugging her tightly. “That’s a great idea, peanut. You’re going to be the best big sister ever.”

Over the next few weeks, Morgan becomes completely obsessed with the idea of the baby. She asks a million questions—“How does the baby get in there?” (to which Tony coughs and quickly changes the subject), “When will the baby come out?” and, most frequently, “Is the baby going to like me?”

Tony takes every opportunity to reassure her. “Of course the baby’s going to love you,” he tells her one evening as they’re building a block tower together. “You’re going to be their favorite person.”

When you find out the baby is a boy, Morgan’s excitement reaches new heights. “A baby brother!” she exclaims, jumping up and down. “I’m going to teach him how to color and how to play with Dum-E and how to eat pancakes!”

Tony grins, pulling her into a hug. “That’s my girl. He’s going to be one lucky little guy.”

As the months pass, the preparations for the baby kick into high gear. Tony insists on designing the nursery himself, turning one of the spare rooms in the penthouse into a space that’s both practical and beautiful. Morgan helps as much as she can, picking out toys and decorations and offering unsolicited advice.

“I think the baby would like stars on the ceiling,” she says one afternoon as Tony is painting the walls.

“Stars it is,” Tony replies, pulling up a design on his tablet and letting her help choose the layout.

You spend hours together as a family, getting everything ready. Morgan loves to help fold tiny clothes and stack diapers, even if her “help” usually results in more work for you later.

When the day of the birth finally arrives, it happens in the middle of the night. You wake up to contractions and gently nudge Tony awake.

“Tony,” you whisper. “It’s time.”

His eyes snap open, and he immediately jumps into action. “Time? Time for—oh my God, it’s time!” He stumbles out of bed, pulling on clothes and grabbing the hospital bag you packed weeks ago.

Morgan wakes up in the commotion, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “What’s happening?”

“You’re about to meet your baby brother,” you tell her, smoothing her hair.

Tony calls Pepper, who comes to stay with Morgan while you head to the hospital. As you’re leaving, Morgan gives you a big hug and whispers, “Tell the baby I love him, okay?”

Labor is intense but thankfully not too long, and soon enough, baby Jake Stark makes his grand entrance into the world. He’s a perfect mix of you and Tony, with a head of dark hair and big, curious eyes that already seem to be taking everything in.

When Tony holds him for the first time, he’s completely overcome. Tears fill his eyes as he stares down at the tiny baby in his arms. “Hey there, little guy,” he says softly. “I’m your dad. And you’ve got the coolest mom and the best big sister waiting to meet you.”

When you return home the next day, Morgan is practically bouncing with excitement. The moment she sees Jake, her face lights up, and she immediately runs over to you.

“Can I hold him?” she asks, her voice filled with awe.

You settle on the couch with her, placing Jake carefully in her lap. Her small hands gently cradle him, and she stares at him with wide eyes.

“Hi, baby brother,” she whispers. “I’m your big sister Morgan.”

Tony sits beside her, his arm around her shoulders, watching the two of them with a smile that’s equal parts pride and pure love.

Jake lets out a little coo, and Morgan gasps. “He likes me!”

“Of course he does,” you say, brushing a tear from your cheek.

From that moment on, Morgan takes her role as big sister very seriously. She insists on helping with everything, from feeding Jake to picking out his clothes. And while life with two kids is undeniably hectic, it’s also more wonderful than you ever could have imagined.

Watching Tony with your children, the way he adores them and you, makes your heart feel like it could burst. Your family is complete, and every day feels like the greatest adventure yet.

[taissasspidergirl]

red eyes

gn reader (i made sure there were no pronouns used. let me know if i somehow still managed to make a mistake, my brain is so weird)

minors and ageless blogs dni.

a/n: this inspiration behind this is insane. which is why it may look rushed, or not long enough. this was purely self-indulgent as wanda can save us all. proofread but i wrote this as i went so there might be mistakes left. enjoy reading leave any feedback if you have any lets gooo

w/c: 3.7 k ish

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, questions about drug consumption. gay reader. gay wanda. shuri and riri trying to play matchmakers. reader being a mess. makeout, reader and wanda match their freak. that’s about it i think? let me know if i missed anything!!

It starts below the cut :)

She was like a dream. Angel. Dream angel? You had no idea what she could be because your eyes were focused on hers. How they could lead you into a never ending forest that you’d gladly get lost into. Your legs nearly gave out when she tucked her hair behind her ear and fixed her suit. A simple action. And yet it was enough for you to act like a teenager all over again.

“Are you opening a tab or…?” The bartender asked, pointing towards your drink, interrupting any further thought your brain could conjure about the stranger.

“I’m…I think I’m good here. Thank you.” You mutter more than you speak, too entranced by the redhead who’s leaned against the wall, twirling a drink in her hand. Sliding a generous tip as an apology for the amount of zoning out you've been doing, you slide off the barstool and shake off your nerves.

Why were you even feeling like this?

The music was blasting so loud that you can feel the vibration of the bass traveling through your body, a pleasant distraction from the current shivers. You wonder where Shuri and Riri went off too but are slightly grateful that they lost you. You're not sure you could handle their teasing on top of your current state. Which would be painfully obvious that something was going on.

As you walk through the crowd of dancing bodies you allow yourself to relax, following the rhythm. For a minute it works. You ignore the stranger’s entracing presence. Or it could just be the alcohol traveling in your blood that’s making you think this way. Either way you’re successful at forgetting her, so much so that you don’t feel a pair of hands around your waist.

“I almost lost you.” It’s like time froze. You don’t know much what to say, much less think. What can you even do in this situation? It almost felt like an eternity before you take another drink of liquid courage and turn around, mentally steeling yourself. Right. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve ever flirted with someone, right?

“Ah, there you are.” Shuri playfully pushes you away. You nearly choke, eyes widening to see that the mysterious woman you feared was in fact, your best friend.

“You can at least pretend you’re happy to see us.” Riri chuckles as she notices how lost you looked.

“It’s not that. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” You make another attempt to drink before Shuri stops you in midair.

“I hope it was a pleasant surprise.”

“Hey, you were the ones who abandoned me.” 

“Uh, I thought you told us that you’d join us later on?” Riri furrows her brows. Shuri checks your temperature before leaning in to whisper closely in your ear. “Did you take anything else other than alcohol? Because seriously–”

“What? No, no, I didn’t, I’m just…”

And there she was again. This time she’s dancing with someone, with her hands around them. You can’t tell their exact gender but you know they’re lucky. You yearn to feel the heat of her body against yours, those hands to guide your movements and those eyes to devour you.

“Yeah, okay. We’re putting you on water from now on.”

You can hardly hear what Shuri is saying, your eyes trained on the redhead. You never wished you were someone else until now. She whispers something to them, making them laugh and you feel a swirl travel uncomfortably to the pit of your abdomen.

“I don’t know Shuri…I think it’s more of a girl problem than a high problem.”

“What?”

“Look at what’s happening.” Riri points to you, who’s looking at the woman who is now looking at…you. She doesn’t even blink, instead pulling the person she’s with closer, staring at you, nearly challenging you to break your stare. And that seems to be enough to get you out of your trance because you shake your head, grounding back into reality. 

“What is…what?” Your heart is racing uncontrollably, in all sorts of different patterns. 

“Damn. I wish I could've filmed that. You were in another world.” Shuri snickers as she waves a hand in front of you. You hardly blink, making Riri look at you in concern.

“Okay, seriously what is going on with you? You sure you didn’t take anything?”

“I’m afraid Cupid shot that poor heart of yours.” At Shuri’s laughter you blink hard, turning away from the green eyed woman to your friends.

“Who?” Yeah. You definitely need a seat because your legs are completely giving out. That and you feel delusional, you think you’ve seen a hint of a smirk but that could be a trick of the light and your brain going hazy.

Your friends look at each other before guiding you to the bar, sitting you down. You appreciate their concern but it’s nothing big. You’re just being dramatic. Your ears barely register what they are saying. You hardly see the glass of water in front of you, her eyes still stuck in your mind, nearly enough to make your skin stick with sweat.

Downing the drink in one go, you take a deep breath, leaning into Shuri’s comforting touch.

“I did not expect to have to play matchmaker on my trip. Say Riri, are you down with me?

“Woah, woah, woah. No one is playing matchmaker. There is no match to be made. And we’re here to make you enjoy your vacation, not give you any work.” You interrupt, downing your glass of water in one go, choking miserably as the woman– stranger, angel? approaches you. 

“Are you sure? Because right now you’re– Wanda?”

“Shuri. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you. What gives?” Wanda, you’ve learned, leans in and hugs Shuri, offering a polite handshake to Riri. You could listen to that husky voice and her accent all day on tape.

“I’ve been on vacation from Wakanda, and my good friend here offered me a place to stay.” She gestures to you, which you take as a cue to act normal. But how can you when you feel like you’re going to melt at any moment because right now Wanda is looking at you and offering her hand. God her hands are so soft.

“Wait, you all…know each other?” 

You mirror Riri’s question in your mind, trying not to look too overly interested, you think you’ve already done enough with your staring.

“We go way back. Wanda was in a college exchange programme in Wakanda. A little before we met.”

“And how do you know each other?” This time Wanda turns to you and you nearly choke on air. You really needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Uh…college…volleyball?” You uncontrollably drop your voice to a whisper. Your whole body trembles under her gaze, a shiver trembling throughout your entire body. It’s uncomfortable, yet addictive.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She leans her ear closer to your lips and it takes all the courage to not stumble on your words. Her scent invades your senses. It’s something sweet and floral, yet so heady that it’s entrapping.

“Volleyball. College.” 

You were better than this. You don’t think out of all the people you’ve spoken to you were this miserable. Fortunately for you she doesn’t pay any mind. In fact she almost finds it amusing. It’s refreshing to most overly confident and shallow people she’s met. You were refreshing, in a way.

“It was a tie, if you’re asking.” Shuri nudges Wanda, trying to hold back her laugh from how absolutely of a mess you are right now. You wonder if she’s trying to put in good words in your honour. 

“From what I heard it was pretty impressive.” Riri adds as she signals the bartender for another set of drinks.

“It was forever ago. Besides, with the internship at The Daily Bugle I don’t think I have much time.” You steal her drink, ignoring her look of indignation. 

“But I heard you still play occasionally? Next week we’re going to train with other friends, just for the good memories. You can join us if you want, Wanda. Besides, we have lots of catching up to do.”

“How could I not?” And right now she was staring directly at you. This time, you choke on your drink.

“Shit, are you okay?” You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the way she rubs your back. Air. You need air.

“I think…outside. I need to go outside.”

“Do you need our help?” 

“I’m fine, Shuri, I just need a quick breather…”

You need more than that.

“Why don’t we go outside? Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I think you two need to go outside. Riri and I will stay here and look over our things.”

“Is that okay with you?” Wanda turns to look at you for confirmation and you numbly nod your head. Honestly, you’d go anywhere she asks you to.

As you walk away they subtly shoot you a thumbs up, only replacing with a wave and a farewell when Wanda promises to get you back.

She leads you to a set of stairs, the sound of music slowly fading away. She has her hand on your back the whole time. Not too forceful but guiding. As you reach the final set of stairs she leads you to a balcony. The cold air is inviting, instantly cooling your nerves. Wanda lets go of you and you almost…no. Be honest with yourself. You miss her warmth.

“Feeling any better?”

If she keeps on talking with that accent and that voice you don’t think you’ll be.

“I’m alright. Just…y’know. Those evenings. One of those evenings. I mean I’m not always like this, I’m chill. I mean not chill chill, but…” You were rambling, waving your hand as you cleared your throat. 

“I get you. Got too overwhelmed?”

“Yeah…” There is no way that a question could take that long to answer.

“Mhm. That happens. It felt like everything was closing in on you, right?” 

“Yeah. Like I couldn’t escape.” You’re not sure how she can still hear you with how low you’re speaking. Maybe it’s because you’re missing how close you got.

“Well. I’m wishing that’s not the case for you right now.” How did basic human decency turn into a new standard for you? With the way she was smiling softly at you and keeping a careful eye, you think you have your answer.

“I’m alright, thanks…Wanda.” Saying her name felt so good. God you’re weird. She probably thinks you’re being weird right now.

“I’m glad you are…?” She trails off, waiting for you to finish her sentence. What could she want? Your name? Right. Your name. 

After giving her your name she tries it out. You’ve never paid much attention to it up until now and you swear you only want to hear it out of her. In all the ways you can think of.

“It’s nice to officially meet you. Shuri’s never done a presentation for her friends before…looks like I’ve been missing out.”

“Oh, you didn’t miss out much. I mean I’m the least interesting out of the bunch. Really.”

This is not the coolest way to introduce yourself.

“Says who? In the little amount of time I got to know you, I know you’re a competitive volleyball player. And you’re interning for a company? I think that you’re more interesting than you let on.”

“That was a longtime ago. I don’t have any more of my reflexes anymore.”

“I think reflexes stay with us forever. The more you practice the more it stays. Muscle memory kind of thing.”

“Right. Right. I totally get that, I mean…it stays…but I’m not sure. I don’t think I am as good as I was before.”

“Really? But aren’t you going to play next week?”

How the hell did she remember that?

“The girls are just saying that. I’m not sure if I’ll even be there. I might be there to watch or coach, but that’s about it.”

“You coach?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“I could see that. You seem to be observant. And you were pretty much…observant back there.” She laughs, the sound echoing softly in the air. You almost forget what she said…something about you being observant? wait. Observant? Shit, you’ve been caught– “I was wondering what it would take for you to talk to me. Guess all you needed was the right incentive.”

Woah, woah…what exactly is happening?

“You’re making up too many ideas.” It was so nonsensical but her gaze darkened at your trembling tone, completely indifferent to your words. She hasn’t felt that chase in a while. Or a feeling so strong, so indescribable, that it’s almost hypnotising. She felt your stare on her. She felt your presence. It was so ridiculous but she needed to know you, to have you. Maybe she’ll ask Shuri questions about you. Or just skip the questions entirely.

“I’m never one to make up ideas or lie.” 

“You’re…so impossible.” Your body feels a random wave of warmth. You’re not entirely sure if it’s the alcohol taking its effect if it’s just her.

“Most people like that about me.” She leans against the railing, smiling that same smirk you could’ve sworn you imagined. Just having her like this felt real. A gust of wind flew past her hair and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring. And it’s like she knows, because the minute you’re about to speak she steps closer to you.

“There you go with the staring again.”

“I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t…I’m sorry. It’s just you’re so…”

You really are awful at this.

“So…what?” The redhead mock grins, her laughter making your stomach swirl with need. The air hardly even cools you anymore, your body is now at an all time heat. She held so much energy that you nearly felt intimidated. It felt like all oxygen was sucked in and she held you completely still. It’s a fate you’ll gladly accept. “There are so many things going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“You’re so pretty I can hardly even focus.” Your heart races so fast you’re nearly out of breath as you finish speaking. “And I don’t know what’s wrong with me but you’ve got something about you that’s making me forget everything I know. You’re the only one I ever really want to know about. I know how crazy I sound, I mean I…” You don’t even stop to think before you talk. You realised how fucked you are when she raises a hand to interrupt you.

“Slow down for me, alright?” 

Yeah. You’re so fucked. She’s probably going to tell your friends how much of a fucking weirdo you are–

“Look, for some weird reason I feel…I feel the same way too. And this is going to sound so weird but I think it’s perfectly normal for you to feel that way. You’re going to think I’m insane but I’ve been thinking a lot that something like this’ll happen.”

Silence ensues. A thousand alarm bells ring through your mind. And through hers. She should just apologise and leave it as it is–

“I think it’s…more than just normal. I mean I’ve been feeling this weird energy too and I thought if I spoke about it to Shuri she’s probably going to overextend her stay.” You speak clearly, not out of breath. You hold her stare, feeling brave, and safe. It’s so unexplainable. Maybe one of those theories you’ve heard of, or something more.

“I take it we got each other under our spell.” The redhead sighs with relief, drawing even closer to you and tentatively taking your hand in hers. You allow it. For some reason the touch feels more electric than before. It’s a pleasant shock. One that you don’t want to find letting go anytime soon.

“I think you’re the one who’s got me more under a spell than anything. Totally threw me off.”

“Oh, I did?”

“You did.”

You find yourself stepping closer to her, reaching for her other hand, tracing her pulse. You miss her low murmur, how she’s silently encouraging you to do more. To say more.

“You just have this pull to you, Wanda. If…you want to, I’d like to know more about you. And take you out sometime, maybe. If that’s what you want?” You were deflating again, your voice wavering. Just when everything was going perfect…

“I’d like that.” Her touch is so slow and tender it feels like you’re not even here.

“Huh?”

Her hands move to cup your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your skin. She doesn't say the words, not yet, but silently lets you know that you’ve got her right where she wants to. Just as you have her. Even then…just for you, she would repeat anything you need to hear.

“I said I’d like that. A lot, actually. I don’t know what this feeling is… But I want to find out more about it. With you, in our own time.” She speaks so softly that you can’t help but step closer, impossibly closer than what you already were. She truly has you under a spell.

“Then…good.” You smile, lifting her hands to your lips before gently kissing each knuckle.

“Good?”

“Good.”

“More than anything?” She leans in, her lips barely brushing against yours. Her hands let go of yours, wanting to feel your heartbeat

“I promise.” Your voice wavers as her eyes flit into yours, dropping down to gaze at your lips, before she gazes back at you again, silently asking you for permission to kiss you.

It’s a request you grant.

Her fingers tugs your shirt, your lips playfully brushing together as she smiles against them. She switches positions, tugging on your shirt as she walks backwards, leading you further away from the balcony, until her back hits the wall.

“Wait, Wanda…is this what you want? You know we don’t have to–”

“Kiss me, please.” It’s like your brain is wired to listen to her. You break the distance, your lips colliding. She’s aggressive. Carefully aggressively. Her lips taste of strawberries, making you hum softly. They’re so sweet you can hardly feel them against yours. Until she traps your bottom lip with her teeth, teasingly pulling back, keeping steady eye contact with you.

It’s like you forgot how to breathe entirely.

Her pupils are so blown you can hardly see the colour of her eyes. You try to resist the urge to stare at her heaving chest, wanting nothing more but to slowly take her apart right then and there. A swirling sensation at the pit of her abdomen, her hands itching to pull you impossibly closer to her, to feel you against her. It’s a feeling she’s rediscovering again. And it’s driving her mad with want, desire…and something more. She pulls you in again, her hands digging into your hips, making you groan into the kiss, completely unable to return it probably. You’re almost too drunk on her. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and yet…still so addictively intoxicating. Your hands move wherever you can touch, rapid and sporadic. It’s like you’ve known each other before, seemingly able to map out your sensitive areas.

Eventually, reluctantly, you’re both gasping for air, using each other as anchors. You laugh after a while, feeling your heart rate slow down to a normal rhythm. 

“I’m taking you out on a real date, alright?” You press your forehead against hers, relishing in the way she wraps her arms around you.

“I know you will.” She whispers, kissing the tip of your nose before capturing your lips one last time. You lean against her, dropping your head to her shoulder. As you close your eyes images come wafting through her mind, images of realities that have yet to happen soon. 

[winchesterwild78]

The PE Teacher pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, fluff, SMUT

A/N: This was an idea given to me by @jackles010378. You and Dean start spending more time together. Trying to keep your professional and personal lives separate.

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. I don’t own the rights to any of these characters.

Does not follow the Supernatural Timeline.

Written fast and not edited well. Please overlook any errors.

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated.

Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform.

Minors DNI 18+

The next few weeks Dean and I started to see each other almost every night after work.

Walking my students to their buses I noticed Dean was standing outside already at his afternoon duty station. His job was to help the pick ups get in their cars.

I had to walk past him to get the first set of students on the bus. “Good afternoon Ms Y/L/N.” He smiled. I smiled, “Good afternoon, Mr Winchester.” He winked and I blushed.

The kids took turns fist bumping him as they got on the bus.

I noticed a mom walking up and she made a beeline to Dean. I chuckled because they have all tried to get with him and nothing worked.

As I walked back towards the school I noticed the mom standing really close and her hand was on his arm.

I tried to ignore it but then I heard him laugh. The laugh he was famous for when he thought something was really funny. Head tilting backwards, full body laugh.

My eyes flicked up and a pang of jealousy shot through my body as I saw his hand brush against hers.

I went back inside the school to get my students who were pickups. I noticed the mom was still standing by Dean and my heart sank when I saw her hand him a piece of paper and he took it.

I was heartbroken. “Ms Y/L/N, there’s my mom. Can I go to her?” The sweet little voice broke me out of my head. “Um, yeah sweetie. Go to Mr Winchester, he’ll put you in the car.”

I saw her walk over and her mom pulled up. Dean helped her in the car and his head turned and he looked at me. I couldn’t look at him so I turned my attention to my students.

The rest of the dismissal was a blur. The mom stood beside Dean the whole time. When her daughter came out she still stayed. Dean talked and it looked like they were bantering back and forth. I felt sick.

Karie walked up, “Looks like Ms Mackie snagged Dean. I swear I thought the two of you would get together.”

I softly chuckled, “Yeah. Me too.” I gave Dean one last look and went back inside.

The tears in my eyes threatened to fall, but I bit my lip to keep them at bay. I packed my bag and headed to my car.

Walking out the front door of the school I heard Dean call my name but I kept walking.

“Y/N, wait.” I hear him call before I make a beeline to my car. I hear the door click behind me and then open in haste.

“Y/N wait!” I stopped and turned. The tears burning my eyes. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You look upset.”

I softly scoffed. “I’m fine. I’m tired.” “Okay, well I’ll be over later.” He smiled and touched my arm.

I pulled away and as I turned to leave I said, “Don’t bother.”

Dean stood frozen in place in shock. “What, why?”

“Dean, this was a mistake. I need to go.”

Dean stood outside my car dumbfounded. He went back inside to find Karie. “Hey, Karie. Is Y/N okay? I just saw her in the parking lot and she looked upset. Did she say anything to you?”

“No, not really. We saw you and Ms Mackie at dismissal, but other than that no. I told her I thought the two of you would get together and she said so did she.”

Dean’s heart sank. He knew he messed up. He just didn’t want to cause a scene and was being polite. He threw the note away once he got inside. “Thanks Karie. I appreciate it.”

She nodded and Dean grabbed his stuff and headed to my place.

I walked in my house and sat my stuff down. The tears I’d been fighting started to fall. Dean kept trying to call and message me but I couldn’t talk to him right now.

I went to my bedroom and changed my clothes, putting on my sweatpants and oversized shirt.

I walked in the kitchen to pour a glass of wine and there was a knock at the door.

I sat the glass down and went to answer it.

Looking through the peephole I saw Dean. Still dressed in his work clothes. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

Dean’s eyes met mine and his face fell. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you. I was being polite to the mom. As soon as I got in the school I threw the note away. I have no idea what it says.”

“Dean, I saw you with her. You touched her and the two of you were bantering back and forth. I get it, I’m your dirty secret. We can’t let anyone know the hot PE teacher is dating the frumpy Kindergarten teacher.”

“No, baby. Don’t say that about yourself. You’re beautiful and all I want.”

I scoffed, “Dean it’s fine. I get it. This was just fun for you, a way to pass the time. You’re free to date whoever you want. It’s not like we put a label on us.”

I started to close the door and he stuck his foot in, blocking it.

“Y/N, don’t be like that. You’re not a dirty secret. I just figured we’d keep our relationship to ourselves so problems don’t arise at work.”

I scoffed, “Problems? Oh like ruining your chances with the hot moms. I get it Dean. I’m exhausted and just want to lay down. Please move your foot.”

He sighed heavily, “Please don’t do this. I really like you.”

I couldn’t look at him, my heart was broken. Every single guy I liked, let in always broke my heart. There was always someone prettier, skinnier, sexier than me.

“Dean, please just go.” A tear slipped down my cheek. Dean’s hand came up and cupped my face. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am.” He wiped the tear away and placed a kiss on my forehead.

He sighed, turned and walked away. I closed the door with a click and cried.

Leaning against the door, sobs shook my body.

There was something about Dean that made me feel safe.

Dean hadn’t walked far when he heard my sobs. His heart sank. Dean knew he had to fix this, but he wasn’t sure how.

The weekend passed by in a fog. I barely left the couch. The events from Friday playing in my head. Monday morning my alarm blared and I didn’t want to go to work.

How could I face him after this? At least we haven’t had sex yet or said I love you.

Walking into the school the halls echoing with the sounds of my shoes hitting the floor.

I walked into my classroom and turned on the lights. Sitting on my table were two dozen long stemmed red and pink roses.

I gasped softly. About fifteen minutes later my students were coming in. They were each carrying a piece of paper and it confused me.

“What do you guys have?” They giggled as they handed their paper to me. After the last one came through the door I put the papers together.

I read the papers and tears pricked my eyes.

“Ms Y/N Y/L/N-The Hot Kindergarten Teacher, I don’t want to hide you. I really like you and I want you to be my girlfriend. What do you say?

Mr Dean Winchester-The Hot PE Teacher

I smiled and looked up to see Dean standing at my classroom door with a pink and red rose.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Tears fell from my eyes and down my cheeks.

I leaped into his arms, “Yes!” He kissed my lips softly and the kids said “eww”. We pulled apart laughing.

His hands cupped my face, “sweetheart, I told you you’re not a dirty secret. I want everyone to know I’m yours and you’re mine.”

I hugged him tightly and he kissed the top of my head. “I’ll see you after work, okay?” I nodded and he kissed me one last time before leaving.

Later that afternoon the school was buzzing with what happened with Dean and I earlier. Karie and Tiffany wanted details and wanted to know why I kept it from them. I explained we wanted to keep it between ourselves, but I promised to keep them in the loop.

I stopped at the store on the way home to grab stuff for dinner. Dean was coming over and I wanted to cook for him. I grabbed an apple pie from the bakery for dessert.

Arriving home I got changed and started cooking. Dean volunteers after school on Monday to help coach the peewee basketball team, so I knew I had plenty of time to cook and have it ready for when he came over.

The aroma of baked chicken and garlic herb potatoes filled the kitchen. The timer on the oven dinged, indicating the food was done. I pulled the pan out of the oven. Closing the oven I heard a knock on the front door.

I smiled and answered the door. Dean was standing there wearing dark jeans, a dark blue Henley and a flannel.

I bit my lip on instinct. He pulled me into a hug and he smelled heavenly.

When he pulled back he kissed my lips, “Hey, sweetheart. You look beautiful.” My cheeks filled with a rosy hue as I smiled.

“You look pretty nice yourself, Winchester.”

I stepped to the side so he could come in. He looked over his shoulder and smiled, “It smells amazing in here.” “Thank you, I hope you’re hungry.”

He turned and his eyes flashed with lust, “I’m starving.” He pulled me into a searing kiss. It turned heavy and passionate quickly.

Dean’s hands slid up my back and into my hair. His fingers laced around my hair and pulled me deeper into the kiss. When we pulled apart our lungs screaming for air as our chests rose and fell in tandem. Trying to take in the air we needed.

Dean’s fingers brushed against my lips and across my cheeks, “You are so beautiful and I missed you so much.” I leaned into his touch, “I missed you too. Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold.”

He nodded and our fingers interlaced each other as we walked to the table. Dean pulled out my chair and then took his seat. “Sweetheart, this looks amazing. Thank you.” “You’re welcome. I hope you like it, and save room for dessert. I got pie.”

His eyes darted up to mine, “Pie?! Oh wow, a girl after my heart.” “You better believe it, Winchester.”

As we ate we talked about the day and the past few days. We made a promise to each other to always talk things out. I promised I would work hard at not letting my past trauma affect how I communicate with him. He promised to pull back on the charm, well towards others.

When dinner was cleaned up, Dean and I made our way to the couch. He pulled me close and we kissed. Dean held me tight and I straddled his thighs.

Dean gasped softly and I smirked. Leaning forward I placed a soft kiss on Dean’s lips. Pulling his bottom teeth gently between my teeth. Things turned heated quickly.

Dean’s hands slid up my body and back down to my hips. His strong hands held my hips in place against his groin. I could feel his hardness through his jeans and mine.

His fingers played with the hem of my shirt and I nodded. A silent plea met with a silent yes. Dean’s calloused fingers slid under the hem of my shirt and made their way up to my breasts. His fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

My breath hitched as his hands made their way to my breasts. Dean’s hands slipped around and unhooked my bra. Dean’s eyes met mine as he placed a kiss on my lips.

He removed my shirt and bra. Biting his lip he took in my exposed flesh. Dean’s breath hitched. “You’re so beautiful.”

Dean leaned forward and I helped remove his shirt. My hands rested softly on his firm chest. My fingers laid against his flesh and I saw a shiver run through his body.

My eyes met his in a pleading look. I needed him, no I wanted him and I knew he wanted me too.

Dean’s lips kissed down my torso. One hand gently cupping my breast while his mouth kissed, sucked and licked the other. His tongue flicked my hardened nipple as his teeth gently bit it. Pulling a moan from my lips.

I could feel the heat pooling between my thighs. “Dean, I’m ready.” His green eyes turned darker with lust, “Are you sure sweetheart?”

I nodded and stood, taking his hands and pulling him up with me.

Our fingers intertwined as I led him to the bedroom.

Once inside the room Dean gently laid me back on the bed as his strong arms caged me under him.

His lips pressed against mine and he worked his way down my torso. A chill went through me as he got to the hem of my pants.

His green orbs darker with lust, looked up to mine. I nodded. His fingers grabbed my hips and made their way to my zipper. I lifted my hips off the bed as he slid my pants down, leaving me in my soaked panties.

Dean positioned himself between my thighs. His strong hands parting my legs, exposing my soaked panties to him. He grinned as he looked down. My face flushed red with heat.

“Can I?” He asked in his deep, whiskey smooth voice.

“Yes, Dean.” I swallowed hard. My body trembled under his touch. My breathing shaky as I looked into his eyes.

His fingers hooked my panties and pulled them down. Dean’s calloused hands ran back up my leg and held my thighs in place.

He licked his lips, “I can’t wait to taste you.” I nodded, giving him the permission he needed.

The first contact of his hot breath on my soaked core had my body shaking. The anticipation filled my very soul and my body throbbed with excitement.

His head disappeared between my thighs and as his tongue made contact I arched my hips up and moaned.

My hands instinctively went into his hair. He began lapping at my pussy like a man starved. Placing love bites on my inner thigh and on my clit.

I moved my hips with him and before too long I was feeling my insides coil tightly. Ready to break at any moment.

“Oh yes, Dean! Fuck.. don’t stop.” My please stuttering from my lips as my head began to spin. He took one hand and slid two fingers inside me. Causing a moan from my lips.

“That’s right, baby girl. You take me so well.” His praise turned me on more. He sucked, licked and nibbled my clit as I moved closer to my release.

“Dean…. I’m….close.” I grabbed his hair and then the sheets. Not knowing what to hold on to as he thrusted me over the edge and my release hit hard.

So hard I was seeing stars. Dean smirked and a light chuckle fell from his lips. He leaned forward and kissed my lips, I could still taste my release on his lips.

I looked at him and smirked, “You’re overdressed, Mr. Winchester.” My eyes flicked down to his pants. I could see his hard member straining against his pants. I bit my lip.

He stood and unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down over his thick thighs and removed them. His boxers contained his hard cock and I wanted it to be freed.

I leaned forward and placed my hands on his thighs, pulling him closer to the bed. Our eyes met and he smirked. My fingers hooked into the waistband and he nodded.

Sliding his boxers down, his hard cock sprang free. I gasped slightly as I took in the sight of his perfectly toned body. My breath hitched.

“Like what you see?” I nodded.

I laid back, pulling him down with me. I felt his cock pushing against my thigh as he kissed me.

“Dean, I need you. Please baby.” Dean positioned himself between my thighs and grabbed a condom. He tore the pack open with his teeth and slid it down his hard shaft.

Lining himself up he pushed his cock head into my entrance. As he pushed in we both gasped.

My hands gripped his arms and his hands held my hips. Pushing every inch in he stilled for a moment.

Our eyes connected as he kissed my lips. “You feel so good baby.” I moved my hips, silently asking him to move.

He pulled out and pushed back in. Our hips connected together and again he pulled back and in again.

Dean set a slow, steady pace. Our moans and pants filled the room. The bed squeaked with each thrust.

My back arched off the bed as Dean picked up my legs and changed the position. His cock hitting my cervix as his long, thick cock filled me to the brim.

My walls stretched and wrapped around him. Each thrust took me closer to another release.

He felt so good inside me. His lips kissed my body, leaving love bites and marking me as his.

As my walls squeezed tighter I felt his thrusts speed up. “Dean..oh fuck! I’m gonna cum again.”

“Me too baby. Cum for me. Let me feel you fall apart on my cock.” Within a second I was cumming hard.

He groaned as my walls grabbed ahold of his cock. Dean pushed deeper and harder in me and with a grunt I felt his cock twitch and empty his seed in the condom.

Dean stilled and as he pulled out he rested his forehead on mine and kissed my lips.

He climbed out of bed to clean himself up and when he returned he brought a cloth to clean me up.

Grabbing the sheet he pulled it over us and I laid against his chest. His arms wrapped around me and a fog of euphoria washed over me.

I looked up at him. Looked into his beautiful green eyes, so full of warmth and love. I smiled softly and whispered, “I love you, Dean.”

Dean gasped softly and took a shaky breath. His mind exploded with the words and thought of the vulnerability of the moment.

Taking a deep breath he lifted my chin, kissed my lips and whispered against them, “I love you, too.”

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[angelaness]

✧･ﾟ *growth spiral* ✧･ﾟ

(or: how i’m learning to stop lying to myself & start living in the mess)

Confessions of a Former wannabe Inspo Girly (Or: Why I’m Burning My Rulebook & Building a Messier, Meaner Growth Plan.

Let’s start with a confession:

I’ve been a fraud.

Two years ago, I ran this blog like a the it girls, or at least I thought I did. I reposted blogs that wrote about 5 AM wake-ups! 10-page journals! Hustle porn! I preached discipline like I had a PhD in perfection. Then I ghosted you. Why?

Burnout sucker-punched me.

Anxiety became my alarm clock. I’d scroll my own posts and sob, “Why can’t I be her anymore?” I’d screenshot motivational quotes like they were lifelines, then binge Netflix until my eyeballs screamed.

Sound familiar?

If you’ve ever:

- Felt like a hypocrite for preaching routines you don’t follow

- Chased dopamine hits from “inspo” instead of taking action

- Ghosted your own goals so hard you’d block yourself if you could

And if you don't believe me, here's proof of your 'how to be self-discipline' girly was feeling just a while back :

Marry me @bloomzone💍 🧎🏾‍♀️

If this is you.. First of all, yikes 🥲 #iwastheretoo. Secondly, welcome. Let’s get messy and raw.

THE REBOOT (OR: HOW I’M MURDERING MY INNER HYPE BOT)

No more 21-day fixes. No more performative glow-ups. I’m building #angelaness — a progress plan for cynics, crash-and-burners, and chronic self-saboteurs. Here’s the blueprint:

1. The “Micro-Grit” Rebellion

- Daily: Post ONE thing I did (even “cried, ate cereal for dinner, survived”).

- Weekly: Screenshot my Notes app rants (raw, unedited).

- Monthly: Film a 60-second clip answering: *“What lie did I sell myself this month?”

2. The Accountability Trapdoor

Skip a day? I owe you a “Fumble Playlist”

— 3 songs for my current vibe (Mitski meltdowns, Beyoncé bounce-backs, Phoebe Bridgers wallowing).

3. Discipline = Showing Up (Not “Succeeding”)

- Post a half-assed haiku? Counts. Ghost? Doesn’t.

-The “5-4-3-2-1” Reset: When paralyzed, do ONE thing from this list:

- 5 deep breaths

- 4-word mood check

- 3-minute dance party

- 2 replies to followers

- 1 tiny win

4. The No-Deletion Pact

I’m keeping my old posts up — not as cringe, but as receipts. Growth isn’t deleting your past; it’s cackling at it while moving forward.

WHY THIS WON’T BE ANOTHER FAILED REBOOT

Science Fact: Your brain clings to quick fixes (thanks, dopamine!). But I’m weaponizing neuroplasticity — rewiring my mind to crave consistency over chaos. How?

- Shame-Busting: Posting my lows defangs imposter syndrome.

- Loss Aversion Hack: If I skip 3 days, I donate $2 to flat Earth documentaries (yikes).

- Identity Shift: I’m not a “guru” — I’m a relapse researcher. Setbacks? Nah, this is just data.

CALL TO ARMS FOR THE STUCK, THE SELF-SABOTEURS, THE “I’LL START MONDAY” CREW

If you’re done with toxic positivity and ready to:

- Trade inspo porn for imperfect action

- Turn shame into a community meme

- Laugh at your own chaos while growing anyway

Your #angelaness Starter Kit:

- Comment one confession (anonymous = chill).

- Steal the “5-4-3-2-1” Reset and tag me in your chaos. I wanna know I'm not alone TT.

- Send a song for the Fumble Playlist when you feel like a fraud.

Let’s build a rebellion where progress isn’t pretty — it’s possible. No before-and-afters. No gatekeeping. Just messy humans saying, "Same. Now what?”

Growth isn’t a straight line — it’s a spiral. We keep circling back, but each time, we dig deeper. This is me clawing through the dirt.

[lexumpysfunland]

would you look at that! we reached 1k followers, everyone! I'm so grateful for all the following, I don't really know what to say out of that and the fact that it means a lot to me. It shows I may not be doing too badly with my art and work, even if I doubt a LOT. I love you all and I thank you more than 1000 times for all of this!! I'll do my best to make my work worth your time!

to thank y'all I make this:

this took me a while to do but it's here haha. With this, I will open my ask box temporarily so you can ask any of the variants for the weekend. I will not respond with drawings unless it's necessary. I'll let the ask box open until Monday at 11am CEST.

if you need to know what to call them and so I understand who you're asking I gave them Tags. Of course, if it's Walter or Stanley you want to ask, please be precise so I don't get lost x)

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[lokissweater]

miss pretty

{single dad!katsuki bakugo x kindergarten teacher f!reader}

summary: katsuki bakugo has never liked mess and always made sure his son and his life reflected just that. with years worth of a sparkling clean and organized home, toys put away and not once scattered about, and a barking knack over any calls of disorder in his life— meeting you, his sons sweet and sugary kindergarten teacher who was the definition of pure and who was for some reason turning his fiery heart into complete goo— was altering his boring strict cycles of no messes around… and for the better.

warnings: cursing, FLUFFF GALORE MY GAWD??, no smut but a lil steamy something, slight angst, afab!reader, katsuki thinks you are an ANGEL, sunshine x grumpy trope, mentions of abandonment, WHOLESOME AFFF, use of y/n, all characters are aged up.

word count: 11.4k

authors note: THIS MAKES ME WANT TO BE A MOTHERRRRR omg this one is sickeningly sweet and i’ve gotten a few requests to do sunshine x grumpy with sir katsuki and i WAS ALLL OVERRR ITTT i hope i fulfilled!!! <333 THANK YOU THANK YOU AS ALWAYS FOR ALL OF YOU BEING SOOO SWEETT TO MEEE I LOVE YOUUUU MWAAAHHH :] <33333

katsuki bakugo hated messes.

“oi!” he grunted, his son’s little head turning to look at him as he munched on his gummy fruit snacks from the backseat. “you better not leave that wrapper in here. take it outside with you when i drop you off.”

“kaaayyy!” his son dragged out happily, completely unphased by his dads snappy personality as he contemplated on which color fruit gummy to eat next.

“and wash your hands too. ask your teacher.”

“mhm!” he chirped.

“and don’t be a brat. pay attention.”

“yup yup!”

and for the most part, his life reflected that almost entirely— raising his son to always clean up after himself and not make bombastic huge messes around the house, begrudgingly understanding that he’s a small growing human, that a little spill of apple juice or two is basically guaranteed… but he just hated mess, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t raise his son right to be a clean and organized man even at five years old— katsuki keeping everything in his life practically spotless.

that was of course, until he met you.

katsuki shoved through the other parents in line as he went up to the front desk in the main office with a grip on his sons little hand, not giving a damn about the glares and huffs of bewilderment he got as there was no way in hell he was gonna wait like an idiot with the rest of them.

the lady at the front desk raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“can i help—”

“where the fuck is room twenty four.”

her eyes bulged open as the rest of the parents in line softly gasped and murmured.

“e—excuse me?—”

he rolled his eyes.

“room twenty four.” he pushed. “where is it?”

“sir— if you need me to help you i’d like you to wait in line until—”

“hah?! absolutely not.” he spat. “if i wait in that fucking line my son’s gonna be late why can’t you just tell me—”

“uh sir if you could—”

katsuki’s son giggled as he continued to spout profanities at the poor front desk lady.

“—sir please no foul language there are children around—”

“i don’t give a shit! just tell me where room twenty four is what the hell is so hard about that?!—”

“oh! that’s my class!”

katsuki snapped his head over, fiery red eyes shooting towards the voice until they landed on yours.

“is he one of my kids?” you smiled sweetly, eyes coming down to look at his son.

“oh—” he let his shoulders relax just a tad as he watched you fix the strap of his sons backpack on his shoulder. “i mean— if your class is twenty four—“

“it is!” you beamed, nudging your head. “i’ll show you where!”

“hiii miiiissss!” his son greeted, happy and silly as he followed you down the hall.

“hi honey!” you gushed, just as excited as he was as you patted over his blonde scruffy hair. “what’s your name?”

“milo!”

“nice to meet you milo! are you excited for your first day?”

“yeaaahh!” he cheered, smile bright as he grabbed your hand.

katsuki’s eyes widened.

“milo!” he snapped lowly. “what’d i tell ya? you can’t grab her hand like that you have to ask—”

“oh it’s alright!” you dismissed, smiling. “i don’t mind it at all! the other kids do it too.”

milo snickered and stuck his little tongue out at his dad, and katsuki rolled his eyes.

“is he yours?” you asked kindly, tilting your head.

“who else would he be…” he grumbled.

“i guess you’re right!” you giggled. “he looks just like you.”

katsuki’s eyes flickered to yours before dropping back down, a permanent furrow in his brows as you all rounded the corner.

“here we are—”

“ooo! ooo!” milo hopped up and down. “miss you have race cars?! dad can i please go?!”

he looked over, a mountain of toys scattered about in the classrooms play area, little kids already making a damn mess and the school day hadn’t even officially started yet.

“the hell you asking me for? ask your tea—”

“miss miss can i please go play with the race cars?!—”

“of course my love! go! go have fun.” you smiled, gently ushering him on before milo zoomed over to the play area and crouched down with the rest of the kids.

“oi!” katsuki barked. “put them away when you’re done!”

he huffed under his breath as he watched his son give him a thumbs up and fucking dump the entire bucket of race cars down on the ‘abc’ play rug, taking one in each hand and dragging them across floor.

“he’s so cuteee.” you grinned. “i’m glad he’s not afraid being it’s his first day.”

“oh fuck no.” he mumbled. “milo doesn’t care. the little runt doesn’t have a filter and does whatever the hell he wants without askin’ sometimes.”

he leaned against the doorsill as he watched milo converse with another kid and share a car, satisfaction in his chest that his son was sharing and being nice.

“but i guess he gets that from me.” he finished off.

you nodded. “but that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

he pursed his lips.

“in my experience, not really.”

you hummed.

“i think it’s definitely a good thing… i’d rather be assertive of things and not be afraid of what the consequences will be.”

katsuki looked at you, properly this time.

“what’s a kindergarten teacher afraid of?”

you shrugged, a slow playful grin spreading across your face.

“parents.”

he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and you quickly had to look away, a pink buzz to your cheeks at the way his big built arms flexed.

inappropriate inappropriate inappropriate—

“i don’t know how you do it..” he spoke lowly.

“do what?”

“take care of little shits all day.”

you laughed loudly, reeling over a bit as he watched you out of the corner of his eye.

“i don’t take care of them! i teach them.” you quipped cutely. “they’re small, but this is when their brains drink up the most knowledge… and i love to see the progress from the beginning of the year compared to the end! i love it all really.”

pure.

katsuki curtly nodded, your sweet positive ambiance throwing him completely off, as he doesn’t think he’s ever met or surrounded himself around someone who’s directly emmitted the feeling of sunshine and rainbows and candy as much as you did.

and his cheeks flared up for some reason.

“oh!” you looked to the time on your little wrist watch and walked inside your classroom. “it’s almost time to start! i have to wrangle them all in their seats heh!”

katsuki swallowed and nodded.

“milo!”

he turned and upon seeing his dad wave him over, milo dropped his toys and bounded to him.

“don’t give her a hard time alright?” he spoke sternly, nudging his head over at you for emphasis. “listen. listen and learn and be the best one in there.”

“kaaayyy!”

“and you let me know if any of the other kids mess with you or you deal with it yourself. you already know how—”

“beat the crap out of them!” he cheered loudly and katsuki’s hand flew to clasp over his sons mouth before his frantic eyes looked at you.

the last thing he needed was someone to call up fucking child protective services on him.

“he’s joking! he’s joking… fuck.”

you giggled hard and clutched your stomach, your pretty smile sending katsuki for a loop.

“no you’re absolutely right!” you waved your hands in front of your face, reassuring. “treat others the way you want to be treated, so if someone’s being mean to you, bite back milo, okay? and also let me know first though!”

katsuki gave you a wobbly tiny smile amidst his branded serious face, looking at his son then and ruffling up his hair.

“okay, go.” milo ran off. “and don’t let me pick you up with dirt all over your clothes ya hear me?!”

“byeee daaaddd!”

you could tell that behind his harsh exterior— the slight purse of his lips, stiff frame and bouncing leg gave away that he was only worried about his kid and his first day of school, a sight you’ve seen time and time again since you started working as a kindergarten teacher, and one that never failed to warm your heart.

“don’t worry!” you sweetly smiled, and katsuki switched his gaze over to yours. “i’ll watch him especially… okay? to ease the nerves.”

he softly snorted, attempting to play it off but internally relieved as he pushed himself off the doorsill and nodded, thankful that the teacher milo got was as kind as you.

“um…” he mumbled. “katsuki.”

you tilted your head. “katsuki?”

“it’s my name idiot.”

“oh!” you giggled, a blush rising in your cheeks again as you tried to simmer it down. “nice to meet you katsuki! i’ll see you after school then with milo?”

he stiffly nodded, the way his name sounded so sugary off your tongue something he’d never heard before in his life or was used to at all.

“…ya gonna tell me yours or what?”

“sorry!” you sputtered, laughing nervously. “sorry it just— flew! you know—”

you stuck your hand out and offered it to him.

“y/n!”

katsuki untangled his arms and firmly shook it, grip strong and one that nearly made you stumble forward as you caught yourself and smiled.

“i’ll see you katsuki!”

out of all of the kids you’ve taught, milo was by far the cutest one.

the little man was like your personal assistant— a little bee buzzing around as he followed you everywhere in the classroom and helped you clean up after the rest of the kids that didn’t, ‘yelling’ at some of them to and cutely scolding them whenever he’d catch them leave some things behind, and was always on watch for you like a security guard with his little balled up fists on his hips, surveilling the classroom for any misbehaving kids or messes that you’d missed throughout the day.

all traits you no doubt knew he got from katsuki, even if you had just met him. it was pleasantly obvious.

“thanks for helping me out today, milo!” you gushed, pushing another students chair in as they all sat down and chattered for lunch. “you made my job a lot easier!”

“really?!” he squealed, big glimmering eyes beaming up at you before he happily chowed down on some apple slices.

and you noticed then milo’s lunch was insane, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut up and molded neatly into the shape of panda bears, his watermelon and apple slices shaped like stars with carrots and celery lined up with a little wedge of lemon if he wished, tiny rice balls on the side for a little snack you figured in case what he had didn’t fill him up— all so considerate and careful…

“wow!” you exclaimed, kneeling down next to him. “your lunch looks so yummy my love! did your mommy make this?”

“nuh uh!” he shook his head, cheeks filled with watermelon. “my dad did!”

you faltered.

“katsuki made this?”

“who’s katsuki miss?” he asked curiously, sipping on his little juice box after swallowing the fruit in his mouth.

you giggled. “nothing! nothing. enjoy your lunch okay?”

you went to stand, but milo’s hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“can you— can you eat lunch with me?” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with some carrot pieces in his hands. “please.. i always eat with my dad but he’s not here…”

your eyes softened and you quickly nodded.

“of course! let me just go grab my lunch and ill bring it over! sounds good?”

“yaaaayyyy!” he cheered happily, arms up as you scooched a tiny chair over from a nearby table and sat with him, laughing at his cute expression.

you knew you shouldn’t use a little kid to pry… but you were guiltily curious as to know if katsuki was married or not for reasons that made you ridiculously flustered and red in the face over.

and you wanted to be respectful in case he was… since the ogling you did at his muscles this morning through his black ribbed tank was the most embarrassing moment of your career and one you hadn’t seen coming at all, it catching you off guard and feeling horrible if katsuki indeed had a wife.

but he didn’t have a ring on his finger…

“milo?” you spoke up softly.

he smiled big. “yes miss!”

“does your mommy make you lunch as well or just your dad?”

he shook his head. “just my dad! i don’t have a mom.”

your shoulders deflated.

he didn’t have a mom… at all?

you slowly reached over then and patted his blonde hair, smiling warmly as his cheeks went pink. “that’s alright! i’m sure your dad makes you lunches like this every time huh?”

“yeah!” he gasped excitedly. “yesterday he made pizzas and cut them into dinosaurs! it was so cool! and then!— and then this morning for breakfast i had waffles that looked like dynamite blasts!”

“oh my goodness!” you giggled, your heart absolutely thumping over the fact that katsuki was so dedicated to his son like that. “man, i wish my lunches were as cute as yours!”

his little eyes snapped to yours.

“i’ll tell him!”

your brows furrowed confusedly. “wha—”

“to make you lunch! i’ll tell my dad to make you lunch!”

your eyes widened and you frantically shook your head, cheeks blazing as you laughed. “oh no my love! that’s totally okay don’t worry about me silly—”

“i’ll tell him i’ll tell him i’ll tell him!—”

“milo it’s okay! i’m a big girl.” you grinned. “i’m supposed to make my own lunches.”

milo grumbled and plopped a carrot in his mouth, begrudgingly chewing as he sat there in thought.

“…will you at least let me share some of mine?”

you pouted at his generosity, wondering how a kid could be so sweet as you nodded and held your hand up.

“of course sweetie! whatever you wa—”

milo plopped all of his peanut butter sandwiches in your palm and grinned, earning a gasp from you.

“milo this is too much i can’t—”

“eat it! eat it! eait it!—”

by the end of the day, you managed to get milo to take back his sandwiches in exchange for one singular watermelon star piece, him still doing his regular duties of being your little assistant and helping you clean up after everyone before the final bell rang signaling the end of class, you carefully making sure each kiddo got their designated backpack (as there was often a mix up) and art pieces they made for their parents to take home— a permission slip for the end of the year field trip tucked away inside their bags.

and the minute you stepped outside with the rest of the kids, you were surprised to see that katsuki was one of the first parents there as he stood directly across from your classroom with crossed arms, an angry usual scowl on his face that made you laugh to yourself as you led your kids to sit down on a bench in a single file line until their parents physically came to get them or their vehicles pulled up.

“milo!” you tapped his shoulder gently. “your daddy’s over there!”

“DAAADDD!!”

milo jumped up and ran across the grass, his tiny arms out as katsuki smiled softly and crouched down to pick his son up and settle him on his lower abdomen, you wringing your fingers behind your back and walking up to them.

“were you a brat?” he grunted.

“nope!”

“did any kids mess with you?”

“nope!”

“did you leave a mess?”

“nope!”

you giggled, and katsuki’s eyes snapped in your direction.

“how was he?”

“he did so good!” you gushed, patting milo’s back as he grinned. “was my little helper and everything! didn’t leave a single mess behind and helped me clean up after everyone else… he even made sure everyone was paying attention and not misbehaving.”

“yeah! yeah! see dad?” milo poked his dads cheek. “i didn’t lie!”

“never said you lied you little runt.” he scowled. “…but good job.”

“thanks!”

katsuki set him down after milo started kicking his legs and saying something about the swings, him instantly running towards the playground and to the slide.

“did he actually do all of that?” he spoke up.

“oh yes!” you quickly nodded. “i’ve never had a kid do that before so it was really nice of him to!”

you detached your fingers from around your back and fiddled with them.

“you teach him well katsuki.”

he scoffed and turned his head, cheeks pink as he tried to regain his composure.

“damn right i do.”

you giggled then, the memory of milo telling you he didn’t have a mother suddenly popping into your mind as you watched him happily slide down the blue slide head first.

“hey i don’t mean to um..” you timidly began. “i don’t mean to pry but—”

katsuki raised a brow at you and you snapped your mouth shut.

“nothing! nothing nevermind—”

“spit it out.”

“no it’s alright! sorry i—”

he glared and you cowered, smiling bashfully as you bit your bottom lip.

“milo… milo mentioned that he didn’t have a mommy? i was just— wondering if that was true…”

“tch—” he shook his head. “that’s what you were afraid of askin’ me?”

“i told you i’m scared of parents…” you slumped cutely, and he chuckled.

“it’s just me and him.” he answered. “his mom’s never been a part of our lives.”

your heart sunk a little, eyes sad as your gaze shifted to milo playing and racing around with another kid.

“don’t do that.”

you jumped and looked at katsuki.

“do— do what—”

“look all sad and shit.”

he hesitantly reached over and planted an index finger to the crease between your brows, the feeling rough as he tried to gently drag it down and smooth over the lines.

“it’s fine.” he grumbled, letting his arm fall to his side. “it doesn’t bother him. at least i don’t think it does.”

“no!” you spoke quickly, a crazed blush on your cheeks. “it doesn’t! and milo speaks so highly of you… especially the lunches you make him.”

his brows furrowed. “his lunch?”

“yeah!” you nodded excitedly. “you prepare it so so well! how do you get his sandwiches to look like little bears? and his fruit?! every time i try to cut mine into stars they always break in half…”

he huffed out a laugh, finding your little whine funny as he reached over and ruffled up your hair, you smiling cheekily in response.

“do you use molds?” you asked politely. “to shape out the bear?”

“fuck no.” he scoffed. “i do it myself.”

your eyes flew open.

“what?! so that’s really just you? and the dinosaurs too? the pizza dinosaurs? and the waffles? the ones that looked like dynamite blasts—”

“jesus christ how much did that kid tell you?”

your face grew hot as you smacked a hand over your mouth.

“sorry!” you giggled. “i just was thinking— that his lunch was really cute and thoughtful…” you took your hand away from your face. “i’m really glad that you do little things like that for milo to make him happy.”

katsuki stared at you, your swarm of compliments and sweetness and sunshine and butterflies almost suffocating as you looked at him with those pretty doe eyes, his throat oddly closing up the longer he stared right back and allowed you to pull him into your world of wonder and abc blocks and puzzles.

but it wasn’t suffocating in a bad way, not at all.

and… maybe he did want you to pull him in.

“dad dad dad!”

milo ran over, sweaty and red faced as he reached the two of you.

“there’s a dead lizard in the slide!”

“a dead lizard?” you laughed, surprised as you reached for his little water bottle from his backpack on the ground and uncapped the lid, handing it over and ushering him to drink.

katsuki didn’t know why the domestic sight of you doing that made him melt a bit.

a bit.

“yeah miss! it was big and gross.” he breathed out after gulping some of his icy cold water. “but i buried him!”

his dads red eyes snapped down to his and narrowed.

“don’t tell me you touched that thing milo.”

“i did!” he giggled.

“oh my fucking god—” katsuki snatched his hand and started pulling him to the car as milo giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“it’s a prank! some other girl in my class did… but i helped with the dirt!”

you chuckled softly as you watched katsuki stop and roll his eyes, coming back over to you with a hyper milo.

“say bye to your teacher ya little runt. and you’re still taking a shower when you get home!”

“but i don’t wanna take a showeerrr!” milo whined, letting go of his dads hand and running to you, you crouching and extending your arms big with a pretty smile.

“bye my love!” you hugged him tight as he giggled. “i’ll see you tomorrow okay? and give your daddy a break. no more digging up dirt and playing with dead lizards.”

“kaayyyy!”

you both let go and he stepped back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before bouncing back to his dad.

katsuki choked on his spit.

“oi!” he barked. “you can’t just kiss her cheek milo the hell is going on with you?!—”

“it’s okay don’t worry!” you smiled kindly. “he’s just being sweet is all! i don’t mind.”

“you sure?” he pushed, milo snickering. “i—”

you waved him off and wrung your fingers behind your back, leaning forward.

“i’ll see you tomorrow morning kats!”

and he froze, nodding hard as he quickly took milo’s hand and backpack before walking to the car, his heart completely aflame in his chest and cheeks red as he led his babbling son further into the parking lot and inside the car, buckling him up in his car seat before hopping in himself and starting the engine, unbelieving that he had barely just met you and he was already thinking and acting like a fucking dumbass.

“and then we learned the days of the week! oh!— and we learned numbers! i can count to fifteen dad!”

“that’s good milo.” he responded, pulling out of the schools parking lot and craning his neck to see if he could catch a final glimpse of you and settling once he did, you so pretty and conversing so nicely with another kid until he was out of the lot.

“did you eat all of your lunch? y/n tells me ya shared with her.”

“i did! i did share with her.” he grinned. “she liked my lunch!”

“good.” katsuki gave him a thumbs up through the rear view mirror. “that’s good that you always share. especially with her.”

“yup yup! she’s preeettyyy.”

he rolled his eyes, but a small smile grew at the corner of his lips as he nodded curtly.

“that she is.”

katsuki continued to drop off his son personally at your classroom every morning before school.

even when it had been a couple of months into the year, at this point many students already used to their route to and out of class and their parents just dropping them off and leaving— them not even allowed on campus as security rounded every corner and told any parents who wished to go in that they weren’t supposed to, as per policy.

but not katsuki.

katsuki didn’t give a fuck as he stormed through the main office and ignored the calls of the front desk lady, her already used to the rude asshole who came through the building every morning as he strode by and down the hall to class twenty four… wanting to see you— his son’s pretty kindergarten teacher that was sweet and joyful and someone who was everything he wasn’t, his mind curious and filled with your giggles and smiles throughout the time that he’d gotten to know you and chat with you in the mornings and the afternoons, loving the way you were with milo and treated him like he was literally your own— always watching over him and making sure he had had enough to eat and drink and that his hands were washed when he wasn’t around.

and even katsuki himself— you bringing him candy bags from their classroom parties or donuts that were passed to faculty in the mornings and saving yours for him, treats he always took and ate with no questions asked even though he wasn’t a fan of sugary shit and junk food, always making the exception for you.

he had never experienced honest help like that… he’d never experienced someone caring enough about him and his son like the way you did so perfectly every single day…

and katsuki feared that he was a little obsessed.

“oh! miss y/n!”

“yes honey?” you responded kindly, opening a juice pouch for another student and handing it to them carefully during lunch.

milo dug into his lunch pail and pulled out a small container, sticking his hand up and offering it to you.

your brows furrowed, taking it from him.

“what’s this milo?”

“it’s from my dad!”

you stopped, heart dropping to your ass as you recounted his words.

from katsuki?

“your— your dad?”

“mhm!”

you shakily popped the lid of the container open, eyes widening and filling with hearts once you saw a mix of star shaped strawberries and watermelon and papayas, drizzled over with sparkling strings of honey and singular little blueberries scattered about.

“for me?” you asked softly, crouching down next to milo. “my love— are you sure this isn’t for you? i think your dad cut these up for you—”

“nope! for you!” he gave you a big toothy smile before stuffing his mouth with crackers. “he told me not to eat it and to give it to you.”

he swallowed and reached up, you tilting down your head so he could pat it just like you always did for him.

“i hope you like it miss! they look like the ones you told me looked cute!”

“i— i love them milo.. thank you!”

you picked up a papaya piece and ate it, entirely dazed and love struck as your tastebuds savored over the sweet velvety thick honey, literally blinking back tears at how thoughtful and kind katsuki was.

he didn’t have to do this at all… yet he took the time anyways out of his morning to do this for you.

and your heart nearly fucking gave out.

after school once you got your rowdy kids to sit neatly on the bench and wait for their parents, you extended a hand for milo and he hopped off the bench and took it, you both walking up to a waiting katsuki as he stood there with a soft smile on his face.

“hi kats!”

“hey.” he picked his son up and settled him over his abdomen, milo’s arms clinging around his neck and chin propped up on his dads shoulder as he was exhausted from a days worth of playing and learning.

“i wanted to um—” you peered up at him. “i um—”

his brows furrowed, and just as he was about to bark about you stumbling over your words, he stopped.

your bottom lip was trembling.

you hurriedly wiped your eyes.

“i wanted to thank you—” hic! “f—for the star shaped fruit this morning—”

“why are you crying dumbass?” he mumbled, reaching over and wiping some tears with his rough fingers.

“because it was so nice!” you sobbed, shoulders shaking as you let him wipe your cheeks. “and— and you put honey over it too! you didn’t have to do any of that for me!”

“tch—”

he flicked your forehead softly, not enough to hurt you but enough to get you to snap out of your hiccups as you sniffled.

“it’s just fruit y/n—”

“but it’s not.” you wiped your eyes again. “not to me anyways…”

katsuki slowly lowered his arm, gaze tracing over your pretty face and perfect hair and the way you cried over something so stupid, his brain unable to process the fact that an act as simple as cutting fruit up for you could make you this happy, and it made him want to see what you saw for once— how you saw the world for exactly what it was and appreciated it regardless of how big or small things were, not snippy or angry or spiteful over everyone and thinking everything was out to get him and his son.

“crybaby…” he grumbled. “i’m glad you liked it though.”

“i did kats.. a lot. thank you.” you wiped the last of your tears and smiled. “i’m sorry i cried.”

what a pretty sweet girl…

he shook his head and hoisted milo up, him completely knocked out with drool coming out of his mouth as katsuki felt it run down his shoulder, barely even noticing that though as his entire focus was trained purely on you.

was it okay if he… asked you out? would it be weird? would you tell him to fuck off?

katsuki internally rolled his eyes at his stupid fucking high school boy thoughts, though it didn’t alleviate the gnawing feeling that if you did tell him to fuck off… that he’d be angrily mortified at his fail and probably lose the right to talk to you since it’d be too awkward to.

but you were just so fucking sweet. all of the time.

“listen uh—” he cleared his throat, face growing hot. “i was wondering if ya wanted to eat dinner with me… sometime.”

you stared, eyes big and shocked and katsuki took it defensively and entirely the wrong way.

“forget it.” he snapped. “forget it i didn’t say shit—”

“no! no no—” you quickly shook your head. “no it’s okay i would!”

he stopped.

“you would?”

“of course!” you expressed sweetly, cheeks hurting from how big you were smiling as you tried to simmer down your giddy squeals. “i’d love to have dinner with you…”

his tense shoulders slowly relaxed, an eventual small smile growing on his face.

“a—alright uh…” he sighed. “i’d prefer to take ya somewhere nice but i don’t really have anyone to watch milo—”

you shook your head again, brows pinched. “oh no kats— we don’t have to go anywhere at all! we can order something in at your place and eat with milo? or— or my place?”

“my place.” he replied. “and i’ll cook.”

he cooks?!

“okay!” you giggled, your hand reaching up and patting over milo’s sleepy head gently. “sounds good!”

katsuki and you agreed on the details of the date after and bid each other bashful goodbyes, swooning as you watched him walk away into the parking lot with a sleeping milo in his arms and feeling like none of this was fucking real, for you couldn’t believe someone as handsome and cool as katsuki would ever be interested in someone like you.

and funnily enough, he felt the complete opposite, stressed and extra snappy as he cleaned the house from top to bottom (though it barely needed it), unnecessarily fixed the positioning of the furniture and made milo put away his toys, him not even whining or protesting like he usually did solely because the little man knew you were coming— pretty miss y/n with the pretty smile and the nicest lady he had ever met, and one he secretly hoped would be his new mommy every time he saw you and his dad converse before and after school, thinking you would fit the role perfectly.

especially after his dad had given you those fruits as a present!

“milo!” katsuki called. “come ‘ere!”

his son ran into the kitchen, toy race car in hand. “what!”

“be good today, ya hear me?” he pushed, face stern as he flipped a kitchen towel over his shoulder and sautéed vegetables in his frying pan. “please milo. don’t try to be funny and do somethin’ to scare y/n off.”

milo gave him a look.

“scare miss y/n off? dad you’re gonna scare her off not me!” he giggled. “silly.”

“yeah..” he grunted. “you’re probably right but i’m just sayin’. i’m thinking of the time grandma came over and ya put that fake rat in her purse to try and be funny.”

“ohhh yeeeeah!” he doubled over in little fits of laughter, holding his stomach as he did. “i did do that!”

“see what i mean?” katsuki grumbled, snatching the kitchen towel from his shoulder and throwing it down on the counter top, stepping back to peek in the oven. “you better not do that with y/n please.”

“i won’t!” he grinned. “not when she’s about to be my new mommy!”

katsuki choked as his spit went down the wrong pipe, bending over and coughing uncontrollably in his elbow before spinning around and looking at his son with wide eyes and pink cheeks.

“the hell you just say?”

“what!” milo tilted his head. “that y/n is gonna be my new mommy?”

his eyes grew even wider as he dropped the pan he was holding on the stove and leaned back, running his hands over his face.

“oh you little runt please don’t say that in front of her, alright?”

he pouted. “why not?”

“you’ll scare her off! worse than when you put that fake rat in grandmas purse!”

“boooo!” milo stuck his tongue out and crossed his little arms over his chest. “whatever.”

“oi!”

“what!”

katsuki’s doorbell chimed and milo booked it to the front door.

“missss preettyyyy!!—”

“milo get your ass back here!—”

katsuki swung the door open and swooped his son in his arms just as he was about to pounce on you in midair, you giggling and covering your mouth as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“i’m sorry—”

“hiii misss y/nnn!” milo greeted happily, dangling off of his dad as katsuki tried to stop him from wiggling out of his grip. “i’m so exciteeeddd!—”

“hi my love!” you gushed warmly, smile wide as you extended your arms and walked forward, taking milo in your arms and setting him on your hip. “how are you? you excited to hang out with meee?”

“yes! yes!” he vigorously nodded. “i wanna show you all my race cars!”

“oh i can’t wait to seeee!” you bounced him on your hip and he giggled, you turning your attention and smiling at katsuki.

“hi kats!”

“the little brat is hogging—”

milo blew a silly raspberry at him before wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck.

you laughed and ran a soothing hand over the little man’s back, katsuki rolling his eyes before stepping to the side and letting you in, shutting the door behind him and leading you over to the kitchen.

and jesus christ you looked beautiful, him noting that pink was what you mainly wore on the day to day as he eyed your small rosy cardigan, you walking through his home and looking around and oblivious to the way he was staring at you like a fucking creep.

katsuki bit the inside of his cheek as he watched your eyes scan your surroundings, stupidly nervous about what you’d think of his house and furniture and minuscule decorations, and annoyed with himself that he’d even give a shit about something like that, trying to occupy himself and ignore it as he looked in the oven and lifted lids of various pots and pans, checking over tonight’s dinner.

“i’m sorry i’m behind…” he grumbled and waved his hand around. “had to clean the house and shower milo since he decided to play in the fuckin’ mud this morning.”

“oh you don’t have to apologize for that kats!” you looked at him worriedly. “you don’t have to apologize for anything i totally understand…”

you hoisted milo further up your hip and grinned. “i’m just happy to spend time with the both of you.”

katsuki felt smoke puff out of his red ears as he nodded and scratched the back of his neck, turning slightly and lifting the lids from his pots and pans again.

“miss preettyyyy!” milo whined. “when can i show you my race cars?!”

katsuki scowled and you laughed.

“now honey! but how about we move some of your toys to the living room so i can spend time with both you and dad? how does that sound?”

“yayayay!!” milo cheered, bouncing on your hip as you smiled cutely and set him down, him running off down the hall and you quickly following after him.

milo talked you through his entire collection of race cars as you both sat down on the living room rug— telling you the model of each and every one, what they did, how fast they went, they places they’d gone, and which were his favorites as you excitedly talked to him about his cars and shifted conversation between him and katsuki, a task he was surprised you did so efficiently, but then quickly realized that that was literally your fucking job everyday dealing with little brats talking your ears off and you attending all of them at the same time.

and when it came around to dinner time, you helped katsuki set up even through his snapping and huffing that you absolutely shouldn’t, you giving him a silly little face as you assisted anyways and set up milo’s booster seat, picking him up and sitting him down before buckling him up while katsuki placed your dishes on the table—

and gourmet fucking dishes at that.

you were bewildered. absolutely bewildered as you gawked over the lasagna platter he set before you, it delicate and fancy looking as he had even draped sauce on your gray ceramic plate in gourmet intricate designs, knowing that katsuki had mentioned to you he was a chef over the several months you’d gotten to know him, but you didn’t know exactly to which extent that chef occupation stretched to.

“kats…” you murmured. “what do you do for a living.”

“i told you idiot.” he passed over a couple of napkins and you gratefully took them, taking one then and wiping down milo’s mouth as he messily ate his cut up pieces of lasagna. “i’m a cook.”

“yeah but what kind? where?”

“why?” he gruffed. “does it look like shit?”

“no!” you giggled. “absolutely not the opposite actually! this is probably the most beautiful lasagna i’ve ever seen in my life.”

“duh.” he responded, but sent you a small smile as he ate. “i’m an executive chef down at a restaurant in the city.”

your jaw dropped. “the city?! you’re so cool kats! oh my goodness!”

his face flushed.

“my dad says his boss is a piece of—”

“don’t say it!” katsuki snapped at his son, eyes wide as you slapped a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, not wanting to encourage the little man any further.

“milo i told ya not to cuss until you’re ten—”

“ten?!” you giggled loudly and let your hand fall, sticking your fork in your lasagna and eating. “as long as he cusses with you and not at you… i think it should be fine!”

katsuki stopped.

you get it. or you rile up his bad cussing habit. either or he might as well have found his fucking soulmate.

“miss pretty!” milo called.

“yes my love?”

“do you have a boyfriend?”

katsuki smacked a hand on his forehead and you snickered.

“i don’t!” you grinned. “why milo?”

“because i want you to be my new—”

“milo if ya shut your mouth right now i’ll buy you two new race cars tomorrow.”

his son gasped dramatically and pursed his lips shut, eyes big and excited as he tried to contain himself and do as told.

“his new what?” you tilted your head cutely, katsuki’s heart hammering against his rib cage as he stuffed his mouth with food.

he shrugged. “the fuck should i know?”

“but i wanna know!” you pouted, taking your final bites of your yummy dinner.

he swallowed.

“do you want dessert?”

you gasped. “oh my god yes! i do!”

“then i suggest you shut your mouth too.”

you laughed over the table, quickly nodding as you pursed your lips like milo and pinched your thumb and index finger together, running it across your mouth and twisting your wrist like a pretend lock before dropping your hand in your lap, giddy and excited over dessert.

katsuki playfully rolled his eyes and stood, collecting all of your plates and stacking them on top of each other before taking them over to the sink.

“dad!” milo called as he bounced in his seat, katsuki grunting in response.

“what’d you make for dessert!”

“mochi.”

“yaaaayyyyy!” he cheered happily. “can i eat it with y/n in the living room?”

katsuki’s brows furrowed. “the living room?”

“yeah!” milo exclaimed. “so i can keep showing her my race cars!”

he struggled for a moment before eventually nodding. “alright… but don’t make a mess i just cleaned—”

you and milo ended up building a fucking fort once he gave you the all clear, you both saying something about it adding to the ambiance as you used the couch cushions for makeshift walls and milo’s choo choo train sheets for the roof and tent, katsuki before he knew it his entire living room a fucking mess as the three of you sat amongst the scattered about pillows and blankets eating your bits of mochi, milo mainly inside the little tent you made for him as you and katsuki were too big to fit inside with him.

his living room was a mess… but he didn’t mind.

katsuki didn’t mind the mess.

your way of living was entirely different from his, as yours had everything to do with mess due to your full time job with kids— paint all over your hands and face, marker stains on your clothes and sticky glue residue and pieces of cut up construction paper somehow in your hair, all things katsuki despised for years and made sure his house never reflected any of that.

but in that moment, with his living room in complete disarray and the positioning of his couches utterly fucked up? the dishes still in the sink and the table still set?

katsuki didn’t fucking care.

because he had never seen his son so happy. he had never seen him so excited and hyper as you helped him set up and somehow tie fairy lights that katsuki had somewhere up in his attic for holiday seasons around the fort, you looking fucking gorgeous under the dim dark lightning as you read milo one of his favorite children’s books you got from his little shelf in his room— ‘the very hungry caterpillar,’ one of your favorites too as his son followed along with you and giggled whenever you’d make a silly joke only a five year old would find funny.

and katsuki felt warm… that’s all he ever felt when he was around you.

is this what it was like to be a family?

“oh my goodness i almost forgot!” you quickly sat up and handed milo the book, him taking it as you crawled over and reached for your bag. “i brought something for you honey!”

milo gasped and sat up. “really?! what?!”

you pulled out a ceramic cream colored globe with hollowed out stars, a small bulb inside as you scooched on your knees back over to a curious katsuki and milo.

“woah..” his son whispered. “what is it?”

you smiled and reached for the nearest outlet, plugging in the little globe and flicking a switch.

the darkened room illuminated itself then with the soft murmur of a lullaby playing, star shaped shadows slowly shifting around the entire living room as milo gasped and stood, frantically pointing at each moving shadow and gushing while his little mind was trying to process how cool and fascinating this was.

and all katsuki could do was stare at you.

stare at the way you sat back on your ankles and pointed with milo, counting how many stars you could see before it shifted and repeating that for fun, stare at the way both of your eyes glowed with wonder and curiosity, and stare at the way you smiled so gracefully and looked unreal now under the starry lights, his heart on overdrive at how gentle you were and how much you cared about his son.

about him.

and katsuki was sure then he was absolutely sick over you.

you all settled after a while of playing games and eating more mochi, especially milo, the little lullaby knocking him out as he snored next to you in his fort, you and katsuki laying down next to each other as you stared up at the shifting stars.

“i’m sorry i made such a mess in your living room..” you whispered bashfully. “i promise i’ll pick everything up before i leave.”

he shook his head. “don’t worry about it i can pick up. it’s fine.”

you smiled at him warmly before looking back up at the ceiling, feet planted on the blanketed flooring as your mindlessly moved your propped up knees side to side.

“was it hard raising milo on your own kats?” you asked softly, fingers wrung together neatly on your tummy.

“it was at first.” he mumbled. “but i got used to doin’ it on my own.”

you frowned, not particularly happy with the idea that katsuki had to raise a human being on his own without any help or guidance, wishing that he would’ve had someone there to help him every once in a while, or just be there for him.

“you did an exceptional job, okay?” you began. “you should know that... milo is such an honest kid… and he’s so precious too.”

katsuki’s eyes softened, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you in fear of you noticing his stupid flustered face as he opted for keeping his gaze glued to the starry ceiling, your sugary peachy perfume not fucking helping as he decided to sit up instead.

“he is.” he grunted softly. “don’t know how his mom didn’t see that.”

you faltered and sat up with him.

“what do you mean?”

katsuki eyed you before looking down, hands flat behind him propping himself up as he thought.

“ah… milo happened because of some random hookup i had in college.” he mumbled. “didn’t love her or anythin’, i barely knew her but still told her i’d support her and the baby obviously.”

you nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“i was there through her entire pregnancy and when milo was born… but the minute she got discharged from the hospital and took him with her, i woke up at four in the mornin’ with a knock on my door and milo left abandoned on my doorstep.”

you gasped, hand hovering over your mouth.

“are you— are you serious?”

katsuki nodded.

“she wouldn’t answer my calls, my texts, nothing. i went to her house and found out she took the first flight she could to fuck knows where.” he shook his head bitterly. “but i didn’t give a shit about me i’ll raise him i don’t care. it was never about me.

he looked at you. “it was about milo. i didn’t want him to know that his ‘mom’ left him behind like that, and i didn’t want him to think it was his fault or anythin’… shits ridiculous.”

katsuki shifted his gaze back up to the ceiling. “still don’t know how she could ever do something like that.”

the sound of a hiccup make his eyes widen and snap back to you, your eyes filled with fat tears as your bottom lip wobbled, hands coming up to cup over your mouth and nose as you tried to keep it in.

“you’re crying?”

you nodded, squeaky slight sobs slipping past your throat as you strained to keep everything down.

“that’s so cruel.” you cried softly, embarrassingly drowning in your tears in front of him yet again. “you didn’t deserve that at all kats… milo didn’t deserve that you both should’ve had such a good mommy and— and a good support system—”

katsuki pushed himself up and wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, pulling you in and rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly.

“you cry over everything y/n.”

“s—” hic! “—sorry—”

he laid the side of his head on top of yours as you shook, somehow feeling guilty of what he told you just because of how much you were crying.

more than when he gave you those star shaped fruits.

“oi…”

katsuki pulled back and looked at you, reaching up and wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“don’t cry baby…”

baby?!

you funnily sobbed even more and shoved your face in his chest, him chuckling as he wrapped his arms back around you and gently swayed side to side.

“stop it idiot.” he mumbled. “it’s fine. it happened years ago n’ milo and i have always been alright on our own.”

…but he wanted you now.

now that he knew what it was like to be softly cared for by someone precious like you, to feel what it was like to be warm and fuzzy and sunshine and rainbows and candy all of the time… and katsuki wanted you so. bad.

“i know..” you hiccuped. “and i’m really glad but i just wish you had someone.”

you pulled away and quickly wiped your wet cheeks. “m’sorry i cried all over your shirt—”

“don’t give a fuck.”

you breathed out a laugh and dropped your hands in your lap, looking at your fingers as you sniffed.

you were always crying for him.

“y/n.”

“yeah?”

he looked to the side with a blush to his cheeks.

“thanks for comin’ today.”

you smiled brightly and nodded.

“of course kats! how could i not?” you looked behind you to a sleeping milo, reaching over and pulling his blanket a little further up his shoulders. “i want you to know that i wanna be there for you and milo…”

he shifted his gaze to you as you turned back around.

“whether— whether you wanna keep seeing me or not—” you gnawed nervously at the inside of your cheek. “which i hope you do! but— but if not that’s totally fine i just want to be there for you both…”

how were you so pure? so thoughtful?

“why the hell wouldn’t i wanna keep seeing you?” he huffed, grumbly and embarrassed as he pursed his lips. “i’d be stupid as fuck not to…”

you blushed, happy shiny eyes looking at him eagerly like he was everything and more, and he wasn’t used to people looking at him like that whatsoever as your gaze flickered down to his lips and back up.

and you were so pretty.

“y/n.”

“mhm?”

he slowly leaned closer.

“would you be mad if i made a move on you—”

“of course not—”

katsuki lunged and planted his rough lips on yours, you tasting like straight sugar and honey as he placed his big hands on the sides of you head and held you like a piece of delicate glass, kissing and sliding your tongues in each others mouths rather quickly and breathy as he moved one hand from your pretty face down to your waist to grip it.

you placed your hands on the blanketed floor and slowly crawled over to him during the makeout, him reaching and wrapping the rest of his built muscly arms around your waist and pulling you to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down your sides and back, wanting to feel you as much as he possibly could and squeeze you tight as he gulped your little self down, brows furrowed and lips red.

katsuki pulled away and ran his fiery wet mouth across your jaw and to the spot right below your ear on the side of your neck, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as he bit and sucked and still squeezed you, manhandling you in a way and eating you up.

your eyes fluttered open once you heard a slight rustle, your line of sight catching milo shifting a little in his sleep.

“k—kats—” you breathlessly whispered, pushing a little at his shoulders.

he grunted.

“milo—” you pointed. “he’s waking up—”

“the fucks that gotta do with us—”

“kats!”

he groaned and pulled his mouth from you, scowling over to see his son only shifted positions and was now directly facing the both of you, tiny eyes closed as he drooled and was probably dreaming about race cars and his dads shark shaped pb & j sandwiches.

“the little runt is fine—” he shoved his face back in and gnawed at your neck again as you gasped.

“nooo!” you whined and giggled softly. “now i’m scared he’s gonna wake up…”

he huffed and officially pulled away this time, red eyes dilated and half lidded as he looked over your pinky cheeks and shy face, the purple and blue mark he made on your neck making the right side of his lips curve up into a little prideful smirk, you too distracted to notice over the way he clutched and loosened up the hold on your waist repeatedly.

katsuki kept you on his lap and scooched himself down, laying on his back and head on the pillow as he nudged you to lay on him completely over his chest and body, you more than happy to do so as you settled your head on his pecs and got comfortable with his strong arms around you— feeling so safe and looked after.

and you hadn’t expected to sleep over… but you just didn’t wanna leave, and katsuki sure as hell didn’t want you to either as you softly and quietly talked over the small tinkling of the lullaby and milo’s soft breathing, shadowy stars still slowly shifting around you as you easily switched between various topics— ranging from serious to silly as you ran a loving hand over his chest and his on your back, the both of you subconsciously lulling each other to sleep until you were just as passed out on the floor as milo.

since then, katsuki didn’t wanna let you out of his sight.

as if he wasn’t already involved enough with milo’s school activities because of you, this man became a fucking member of the pta and volunteered himself for every single event so as long as you were there, helping you out especially with fundraisers and bake sales as his desserts always sold out quicker than anything else and made bank as he snickered and boasted at the other parents that weren’t selling as much, you giving him a silly glare that never failed to shut him right up as he wanted to be good for you and not upset you.

the front desk lady even went from hating him to loving him, katsuki grumbling and chucking her a bag of leftover fundraiser chocolate chip cookies on her desk as he passed by to drop off milo in the mornings, serving as a ticket way in and to get her to shut up now instead of yelling at him from down the hall.

and he continued to give you yummy star shaped fruits.

except now some days they looked like hearts or little flowers, and he always made his fruit assortments different so you wouldn’t get tired of them and added different dippings like caramel or chocolate hazelnut, you gushing and nearly bawling literally everyday whenever you’d open the container and milo giggling at you during lunch.

you also never went a day without stopping by or staying over at katsuki’s house since your first initial date, your days so much fun and filled with love as you ate lunch or dinner with the two of them, laughing at milo’s sporadic comments or katsuki’s barking and scolding while you either played with milo, helped katsuki clean up the house and him the kitchen or you the kitchen and vice versa, or simply cuddle on the couch with kisses shared amongst you and katsuki— the three of you with milo seated peacefully and comfortable in the middle while you watched a movie or lulled the little man to sleep.

and katsuki had never felt so complete as he started leaving messes behind without even realizing or stressing about it, and he didn’t know when the fuck it was that he turned so soft and sappy— the change a bit strange to those who knew him as he was just a teeny weeny less explosive and angry over small things, and more so when it came to you and his son.

“make sure you keep your little bucket hat on honey, okay? it’s hot today and i don’t want you to tire yourself out milo.”

the end of the year field trip for the kindergarteners this year was a voyage to the local wildlife sanctuary, a gorgeous exhibit that sat right next to the national science museum in your city, its main attraction being the 25 foot koi pond and butterfly wonderland that housed various butterfly species and their little habitats— the kids field trip assignment being to count how many they see throughout the day and pick one koi fish and butterfly to draw on their journals.

katsuki, of course, volunteered as a chaperone.

“single file line please my loves!” you called, hand by your mouth. “and don’t seperate from your friends okay?! everyone stay where i can see—”

“oi!” katsuki barked, snapping and pointing at a rogue kid who decided to break free from the line and run across the grass. “the fuck do you think you’re doing!—”

“kats!” you breathed out a shocked laugh. “you’re gonna get me fired if you talk to the kids like that—”

“shit! sorry— i’m sorry baby hold on—”

katsuki booked it across the grassy lawn and caught up with the running kid on the other side, the rest of your class giggling and cackling as katsuki swooped him up with one arm and dangled him upside down while he kicked and swung tiny punches to his abs, katsuki not even flinching.

“do that again and see what happens brat.” he spat, the little kid not having a single care in the world as he giggled with the rest of the class, all of them deviously planning to piss katsuki off as much as possible since his outbursts were just funny.

“okay okay—” you smiled apologetically at him before taking the dangling boy from his arm and setting him back down, fixing over his clothes and backpack before patting his head and standing upright.

“no more running alright?” you placed your hands on your hips. “don’t we wanna see some cute little fishies and butterflies?!”

“yeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the babies cheered excitedly, each of them immediately returning to their designated spots in two lines as you grabbed your line leaders tiny hands and started the walk down the grassy field to the sanctuary.

“lemme help ya with one line baby—” katsuki went to grab one of your line leaders hands until they burst into a crying fit.

“no! no! i wanna hold miss y/n’s hand!”

katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “what’s so bad about me hah?”

“you’re ugly! miss y/n is pretty!”

the rest of the kids ruptured, laughing as katsuki sent death glares to a literal child, about to spout something nasty until his eyes flickered to your pleading face, his muscles instantly relaxing as he casted his gaze to the ground with a grumble.

you giggled and gave him a sweet kiss to his cheek in gratitude, his face flushing as he eyed your deep blue overalls and pinky shirt and the way your sunglasses sat pretty in your hair on top of your head.

“what honey?” you tilted your head.

“none of your business.”

you snickered and nudged your shoulder with his, looking over at milo from somewhere in the line to make sure he was okay before walking up the front gates of the sanctuary.

the wildlife guide met you once you all were cleared and inside the greenhouse, your kids absolutely restless as they ‘listened’ to whatever the guide had to say and just wanting to break free and run around to look at all of the fishies and butterflies like you had promised, and you not even listening either as you drooled over the way katsuki’s muscles looked under his t-shirt.

“any questions sweetheart?”

“huh?” your eyes snapped to the guide, cheeks pink as you quickly shook your head. “oh! no not at all! thank you ma’am!”

“alrighty then! just please make sure to tell your students—”

suddenly your two perfect lines broke apart as the kids started running around and pointing at fluttering butterflies and screaming, the guide looking like she’d seen a ghost as the usual quiet and serene sanctuary was now the epitome of noise.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry—” you guiltily apologized. “my kids will settle down they’re just excited is all…”

the guide kindly waved you off before walking back to the main office, you turning and expecting to see katsuki standing next to you, but faltering once you saw he was on the other side and pulling one of your kids down that had climbed up the gates of one of the sanctuaries closed off exhibits.

“oh god..” you mumbled, about to make your way over until you spotted milo in a corner alone, staring at one of the koi ponds.

“milo?” you called softly, walking up to him.

your heart sank once he turned and you saw his little tear filled eyes and wobbling lip.

“oh no!” you gasped, crouching down and taking his tiny hands in yours. “what’s wrong my love? are you okay? is it too hot?”

you pushed some of his spiky blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead as he shook his head.

“i can’t draw!” he sniffled. “and the koi fishies keep moving…”

your shoulders relaxed in relief.

“that’s okay!” you took his journal and pencil, wiping his wet cheeks as you smiled sweetly. “as long as we’re patient with the fishies, they’ll swim back and you can draw them again!”

you opened his journal and flipped to a new blank page, the both of you waiting quietly until a big chubby koi fish swam by.

“there!” milo whispered and pointed, and you quickly drew what you could, just making out the shape of the body before it disappeared again.

“and now we wait!” you grinned up at him. “the fishy will come back around and you’ll be able to draw it again.”

“kayyy!!”

“and you can draw milo. i’ve seen your artwork in class, remember? you always get a gold star!”

he giggled. “i do miss pretty!”

you ran a soothing hand over his back before passing his journal back.

“now you try honey—”

“i love you.”

you froze and looked up, katsuki standing there with a sincere and vulnerable look in his eye.

you stood from your crouched position and looked at him wide eyed.

“i’m not— i’m not good at this kinda shit at all and i always say somethin’ dumb but i do.”

“kats—”

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to say it but i tried to make it obvious with my stupid shaped fruits n’ shit… and i always thought you kinda just knew…”

milo was too busy focusing on catching glimpses of the koi fish to draw with his tongue peeking out to even realize what was going on next to him.

“you’re so patient baby. the way you are with me… the way you are with my kid. i need that in my life and i can’t live without it at this point…” he spoke genuinely. “your fuckin’ fault.”

you giggled and covered your face with your hands, face hot to the touch and bashful at everything he was telling you.

“come here.”

you listened and walked forward, dropping your arms as you wrapped them around his abdomen and his around your head, squishing you in his big chest as he propped his chin up.

“do you love me too or what.” he frowned. “cause if not this is shitty and embarrassing—”

“no i do!” you giggled, pulling away and giving him a cheeky smile. “i do kats you know that… i love you. so much.”

he smiled and pecked your lips. “good, miss pretty.”

katsuki had heard the entire conversation you had with his son, your words seeping with such tenderness and care, and he almost passed the fuck out when he thought about how much of a blessing you were, something he’d be a fool not to snatch up and take as he nearly fucking proposed to you in the middle of the sanctuary like an idiot, not knowing at all how a person that pissed people off for a living was loved by a woman who was the definition of pure.

because how the fuck did an angry dunce like him, get lucky with an angel like you?

“oh my god that dumbass kid is climbin’ the fence again— oi!”

katsuki quickly kissed your cheek before flying to the other side of the sanctuary, you doubling over in laughter as you watched him fight and tug and pull, your student not budging at all whatsoever and the rest of the kids laughing at how red katsuki was getting in the face.

“miss pretty!” milo tugged at your overalls, and you looked down to see him holding up his open journal, a cute wobbly sketch of a koi fish on the page as he smiled big. “i drew it! do you like it?!”

“wow milo!” you gushed, crouching down to his level and taking the journal, examining his artwork. “this is beautiful my love! see? i knew you could do it!”

“thank youuu!” he responded sweetly, his little cheeks blushing as he looked at you like he had another thing he wanted to say.

you tilted your head. “do you wanna tell me something else?”

“yeaaahhh.” he dragged. “please love my dad… i know he’s mean but— but he doesn’t mean it!”

your eyes softened as milo looked down at his shoes.

“and love me too… because i want you to be my new mommy…”

you quickly blinked back tears as to not alarm milo, surprisingly successful at preventing them from slipping down your face.

“i do love your dad honey… and you. the both of you i love so so much.”

he beamed. “really?!”

you nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “and i thought i was already your mommy milo!”

the little man gasped and flung his arms around your neck.

“YAAAYYY!” he yelled. “miss pretty is my mommy! i have a mommy now!”

ever since you came into katsuki’s life, his way of living materialized into something completely different.

because now instead of his house being plain and boring and organized from top to bottom without a single thing out of place— it was warm now… happy. and never went a day without smelling like cookies and vanilla as you and katsuki baked with milo any chance you could, set up more pillow forts and tents with starry ceilings, and slept with milo in his room as he snored content in his little bed, you sprawled directly on top of katsuki like he always had you as you both every day intended to leave after putting his son to rest, but ending up falling asleep on the floor each time.

the three of you were a little family.

and katsuki didn’t know why he hated messes so much in the first place.

because mess signified that something had been there, something sunny and tender, something that signified family as you peppered kisses over both your boys’ faces everyday and katsuki drowning you in his rough ones— your man squeezing you so tight all of the time and anywhere, as milo wasn’t just his son now but yours too as you took him to the park or to the aquarium on your days off, the three of you gently living as both of milo’s small hands were occupied now instead of just one.

katsuki’s life looked like it had been generously cherished and lived in for a change.

and katsuki bakugo loved messes.

so as long as they were from you.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

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[bunnis-monsters]

Cat hybrid reader going through her first heat after taking heat suppresent pills all her life with werewolf husband(NSFW obv). This sounds kinda cute in my head.... I can't explain it.... Like getting married and then finally deciding that you want to let yourself go through a natural process which you were suppressing all your life.

Happy 5k! If this isn't something you'll write, I am sorry, please do not block me, I can't tell if this is following the rules or not.

Your husband held your hand as you started the morning without taking your heat suppressant pill for the first time.

You wanted to have kittens with him so badly, and he wanted to fuck you full of pups, so the two of you decided that it was beast for you to temporarily stop taking them so you could mate properly.

“You think it’ll be okay?” he asked, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

You frowned, leaning against him. “I’m not sure… it’ll take a few days for the suppressant to leave my system. I’ll find out then…”

And find out you did.

Your husband returned home after a long day of work, only for his cock to immediately strain against his pants when he picked up the smell of your heat. He could hear your desperate little mews from the bedroom, walking in to see you crying and begging for release.

You had never felt such an ache in your cunt, and had never really felt the urge to masturbate so you had no idea what to do. He watched you struggle to finger yourself and play with your clit, your pretty kitty tail rubbing against your fat, wet pussy.

“Poor baby, can’t even make herself cum…”

He fucked his fingers into you, making your back arch. “Mmph! P-please, need more!”

You panted, your body feeling like it was on fire. His fingers were a little help, but it was like throwing a bucket of water on a house fire.

You needed more.

“Shh, sweetheart. Gotta stretch you out, okay? Can you be my good girl and wait for me?”

He moved his fingers in a scissoring motion, trying his best to stretch you out as quickly as possible.

You nearly lost it when you felt him kiss your inner thigh, his lips moving to your fat pussy. He licked your clit, sucking on it as his fingers kept fucking into you.

After a few moments you cried out, cumming on his fingers and writhing on the bed. Orgasming while in heat was like nothing you’d ever felt before!

Your entire body spasmed as he pulled out his fingers from your aching pussy with a wet squelch. It took him a second to compose himself, watching your pussy ooze. There was a mess under your hips already, and your scent alone was driving him insane!

He already towered over you, but now he seemed to loom over your body like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

He rolled you onto your fat tummy, lifting your hips so he could properly mount you. By now, he was going off of pure instinct, ready to breed his fertile little mate.

“Mew…”

You let out a pathetic little meow as he sunk into you. The two of you had sex before, but now it was an entirely different experience.

The pleasure was multiplied tenfold, and he was so much more intense than he had been previously. “Wanna make puppies with you! W-wanna-!”

You buried your face into the pillow as he pounded your kitty cunt. His grip on your tail made you cry out, arching your back so he could reach you better.

Your hips and legs were easily lifted off the bed as he began using your fat pussy to get off, his mind fat gone. You didn’t mind, the feeling of him knotting you and filling your belly with cum over and over again was the only thing helping to calm the heat in your body.

The next day, your mate fussed over you, feeling terrible that he went overboard and lost control.

“I’m sorry, little one… your heat, it just-“

You butted your head against him affectionately, purring as he began to pet you.

“I think it’s what I needed… thank you for being with me for my first heat.”

“Of course… I’m your husband and mate, it’s my responsibility to take care of you.”

The two of you spent the morning cuddling in bed, soft purrs and loving mews filling the air.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr