#that said -- some of the mean things he said were Too mean for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

carnalcrows · 2 days ago

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LOLLIPOP - CHO SANGWOO

pairing: dad's best friend!cho sang-woo x trans male reader

synopsis: When your dad’s hot best friend crashes at your place for a week, things heat up faster than the broken AC—throw in drunken confessions, lollipops, and a whole lot of unresolved tension, and you’ve got a summer break you’ll never forget.

content warnings: 18+, reader definitely has an oral fixation, too much plot, mentions of a transphobic mother, (GI HUN IS READER'S DAD), age gap (reader is 19 and sang-woo is in his 40's), unprotected sex, P in V, back-scratching? fingering, lots of unspoken tension.

word count: - 4.3k

A/N: ty to @art-gang-money , their request was what made me go on a spiral w this fic 🙏🏼🫡

Summer in your dad’s apartment always smelled like kimchi stew and stale cigarettes, a combination you’d grown weirdly fond of since moving back in after you started uni. The ceiling fan wobbled as it turned, and the couch sagged just enough to remind you how old it was. You were sprawled out on it lazily sucking on a cranberry lollipop and scrolling through your phone, when your dad cleared his throat dramatically.

“You’ll never guess who’s coming over,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he was delivering some kind of life-altering news.

“Let me guess,” you deadpanned. “The landlord? Because I think the AC’s about to give out.”

He waved you off, grinning. “No, you brat. Cho Sangwoo. You’ve heard me talk about him, right?”

Heard? More like endured. Sangwoo was the mythical figure your dad brought up at every family gathering, a symbol of everything Seong Gi-hun wanted you to be: successful, hardworking, and an SNU graduate. You’d rolled your eyes through countless retellings of his achievements, imagining some stiff, balding guy in glasses who probably spoke in lectures.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, not looking up.

“He’s staying here for a week,” your dad added, oblivious to your lack of enthusiasm. “He’s got a client nearby, and I told him he could crash here. You’ll like him. He’s... cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Coming from you, that doesn’t mean much.”

Your dad ignored the jab, already walking toward the door. “He should be here any minute!”

When the door opened a few minutes later, you barely glanced up—until you heard the deep, smooth voice that followed.

“Gi-hun,” the man said warmly, stepping inside. “It’s been too long.”

You looked up and your sucker almost fell out of your mouth.

This wasn’t the stiff, balding guy you’d imagined. Sangwoo was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than your dad’s entire wardrobe. His hair was styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he carried himself screamed confidence.

“Finally, you’re here!” your dad said, pulling him into a back-slapping hug. “Sangwoo, this is my son.”

“Nice to meet you kid,” Sangwoo said, extending a hand toward you.

You shook it, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. His grip was firm, and his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“So you’re the famous Sangwoo,” you grinned, “Didn’t expect you to be so... old.”

Sangwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Old?”

“Yeah,” you teased, leaning back against the couch. “Forty’s ancient.”

Your dad barked out a laugh. “Don’t mind him. He thinks anyone over twenty-five is ancient.”

Sangwoo didn’t reply, but the way his gaze lingered on you made your stomach twist.

After dinner, the hum of the evening settled over the apartment. Gi-hun had retreated to the couch, already half-asleep with the TV droning in the background. You had volunteered—reluctantly—to wash the dishes, partly out of guilt for eating so much and partly to avoid sitting awkwardly in the living room while Sangwoo and your dad chatted about old times.

The warm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed a plate, the faint scent of dish soap filling the air. You had just started to lose yourself in the monotony when you felt it—the faint shift of the air behind you.

“Need help?” Sangwoo’s voice came, low and smooth, almost too close.

You froze for a split second, your grip tightening on the plate. “Uh... I’ve got it,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out tighter than you’d hoped.

He didn’t seem to care—or maybe he didn’t believe you. Instead of leaving, he moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the sponge in your hand.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of amusement.

Before you could protest, he had already slid the sponge from your fingers, his other hand gently nudging you to the side—not enough to move you completely, but just enough so he could stand behind you, his chest brushing your back.

The countertop pressed against your hips, trapping you between the solid wood and Sangwoo. You swallowed hard, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a gust of wind.

His scent hit you first—clean and sharp, a mix of soap and something faintly musky, like fresh cedarwood. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower; his hair was still damp, and the faint warmth of his skin radiated against you.

“Just rinse them,” he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded dumbly, reaching for the faucet, but your hands felt clumsy, your fingers fumbling with the knobs. The sound of the water splashing into the sink seemed impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Sangwoo leaned forward slightly, his arm stretching past you to grab another plate. The movement brought him even closer, his chest pressing more firmly against your back. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his breath, steady and unhurried, as if he weren’t fully aware of what he was doing—or maybe he was too aware.

“You’re tense,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

You let out a breathless laugh, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be body-blocked while washing dishes.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “You’re overthinking it. Just relax.”

Easier said than done, especially with him standing this close. Every time his arm brushed yours or his hand grazed yours as he passed a plate, it sent tiny jolts of electricity through you.

“You always make dishwashing this awkward?” you asked, your tone half-joking, half-desperate to diffuse the tension.

“Only when I’m working with someone as clumsy as you,” he shot back, his smirk practically audible.

You turned your head slightly to glare at him, but the motion brought your face dangerously close to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

The air between you was heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore. He was so close you could see the faint droplets of water still clinging to his hair, the curve of his mouth as he smiled faintly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Well,” you managed to say, your voice quieter now, “if you’re going to take over, at least let me get out of your way.”

“Who said I wanted you to move?” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. But then he turned back to the sink, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued washing the dishes as if nothing had happened.

You stayed frozen in place, your mind racing and your pulse hammering in your ears. If this was some kind of game, Sangwoo was winning effortlessly.

On the third day of Sangwoo’s stay, your dad insisted on taking you both out for drinks, and Sangwoo agreed with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Gi-hun, unsurprisingly, got wasted. You and Sangwoo ended up practically dragging him back to The humid summer night hung heavy as you and Sangwoo maneuvered your dad through the narrow streets, Gi-hun stumbling slightly with every step. He reeked of soju and cheap beer, his arm slung around Sangwoo’s shoulder while you tried to steady him from the other side.

“He’s heavy for someone who barely eats,” you grumbled, adjusting your grip.

“He’s always been like this,” Sangwoo said, shaking his head. “Some things never change.”

“Y’know,” Gi-hun suddenly slurred, his voice unusually loud in the stillness of the night, “I never thought I’d be one of those dads.”

“Which kind?” you asked, bracing yourself for whatever drunken confession was about to follow.

“The good ones!” he proclaimed, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sangwoo caught him effortlessly, his expression unreadable as Gi-hun continued. “Your mom… she didn’t think so. Thought I was crazy for defending you.”

“Dad,” you muttered, feeling the familiar prick of discomfort settle in your chest. “Maybe now’s not the time—”

“Why not?” Gi-hun cut you off, his eyes glassy but filled with a strange intensity. “Sangwoo doesn’t care. Do you, Sangwoo?”

Sangwoo hesitated, glancing at you before replying softly, “Not at all.”

Gi-hun nodded triumphantly, as if Sangwoo’s approval was all the validation he needed. “See? Told you. No shame in it. Not a damn bit.”

You didn’t reply, focusing instead on guiding him toward the apartment. But Gi-hun wasn’t done.

“Your mom…” His voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. “She couldn’t handle it. Said it wasn’t natural. Like you weren’t her kid anymore, just because you stopped wearing dresses and started wearing ties.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “As if a piece of fabric could change the fact that you’re you.”

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t interrupt. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought it up, but it still hit like a sucker punch every time.

“She wanted you to be her perfect little daughter,” Gi-hun continued, his words starting to blur together. “And when you wouldn’t… she packed up your sister and left. Going all the way to America like that would fix everything.”

He stumbled again, and this time Sangwoo steadied him with a firm grip. “America’s got more people like you anyway,” Gi-hun added, his tone lightening into something almost comedic. ��She probably hates it there. Serves her right.”

You let out a soft, startled laugh despite yourself. The absurdity of it all—the drunken way he said it, the thought of your mother fuming in a country full of people who were allowed to be themselves (kinda)—was too ridiculous not to.

Gi-hun turned to look at you, his expression suddenly serious. “But you know… I’m glad you stayed with me. I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Not for a wife, not for money, not for anything.”

Your throat tightened, and you could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Gi-hun leaned heavily against Sangwoo, his weight almost toppling both of them. “My kid’s a damn good man,” he declared, his voice wobbling with emotion. “Better than I’ll ever be.”

Sangwoo’s gaze flickered toward you, his dark eyes softening in understanding. He didn’t say anything, but the slight dip of his head felt like a silent acknowledgment—a recognition of everything unsaid.

When you finally got Gi-hun back to the apartment, he collapsed onto the couch, snoring almost instantly. You stood there for a moment, staring at him, your emotions too tangled to sort through.

Sangwoo broke the silence, his voice low. “He’s a good father.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. “He is.”

When you finally got your dad into bed from the couch, you turned to Sangwoo, expecting some kind of witty remark.

Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out more defensive than you intended.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your tone defiant.

“Don’t play dumb.” He was close now, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’ve been pushing me all week. Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

That was all it took.

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, heated, filled with all the tension that had been building between you.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet gasp that only spurred him on.

The kiss had left you breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears as Sangwoo’s grip on the back of your neck softened just slightly. The wall at your back was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered again, his voice quieter this time, but no less intense.

“You’re the one kissing me,” you shot back, the words shaky but bold.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his fingers slid from your neck to trace the line of your jaw. The touch was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked, his tone tinged with something between amusement and exasperation.

“Do you?” you countered, meeting his gaze.

His eyes darkened, and his hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good thing I’m not scared of getting burned.”

That was all it took for him to lose the last thread of restraint. His lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself. You clung to him just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

When he pulled back again, his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yeah?” you whispered, a teasing edge creeping into your tone despite the way your heart was racing. “And here I thought you were just ignoring me.”

His laugh was soft, almost bitter. “Ignoring you? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

Your face heated at his words, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. “Sounds like a you problem, old man.”

His grip tightened on your waist, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and desire. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His lips were on yours again, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your bare skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you gasped softly against his mouth.

“Sangwoo—” you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he pulled away just slightly.

“Say my name again,” he murmured, his voice so low it sent a thrill down your spine.

Your lips parted, but the sound of a door creaking down the hall snapped you both back to reality.

“Shit,” you whispered, your head jerking toward the noise.

He let out a soft curse, his hands slipping from your waist as he stepped back, putting just enough space between you to make it look like nothing had happened.

“Dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Sangwoo replied, his tone clipped. He straightened his shirt, his expression already hardening back into the composed mask he’d worn all week.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed as you watched him pull himself together, but the heat in his gaze when he glanced back at you told you this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

“Go to bed,” he said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Promise?” you asked, your voice light but your heart still pounding.

He didn’t answer, but the look he gave you said enough.

Saturday had never felt so bittersweet. Usually, it was your favorite day of the week—a time to sleep in, lounge around, and revel in doing absolutely nothing. But this Saturday was different. Sangwoo’s stay was coming to an end, and the thought of him leaving left a knot in your stomach.

You hadn’t had the chance to talk about what had happened that night after the pub—or maybe you’d both avoided it. Every brush of his hand, every lingering look, had felt heavier in the days that followed. But neither of you had acknowledged it. Not once.

The tension in the apartment was unbearable, made worse by your dad’s cheery obliviousness. That morning, he announced he had to run out for work and wouldn’t be back until evening. He didn’t even glance up as he slipped on his shoes, leaving you alone with Sangwoo.

You sat at the kitchen table, absently swirling the stick of a grape lollipop between your lips as you scrolled through your phone. The candy clicked softly against your teeth, your thoughts miles away.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor snapped you back to reality. You glanced up to see Sangwoo sitting across from you, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Is it good?” he asked, nodding toward the lollipop.

You pulled it out of your mouth with a soft pop, tilting your head. “What, this?” You swirled the candy dramatically. “Amazing. Want a taste, old man?”

His lips quirked into that maddening smirk, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he stood, moving toward you with deliberate slowness.

“Sangwoo,” you started, a warning in your tone.

He stopped right beside you, one hand braced on the table as he leaned down. His voice was low, a soft rumble that made your pulse quicken. “You’ve been driving me insane all week.”

You tried for a laugh, but it came out shaky. “Is this about the coffee thing again? (you had put salt in his coffee instead of sugar because you were so fixated on his face-) Because I already apologized—”

His hand reached out, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him. The sudden proximity stole the words from your throat.

“Stop,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

Your heart was hammering now, the lollipop stick trembling slightly in your fingers. “Maybe I don’t,” you replied, though the smirk tugging at your lips said otherwise.

His gaze dropped to your mouth, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re going to make me lose control.”

The words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It was rough, messy, and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. The lollipop tumbled from your hand, forgotten as you gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you out of the chair and into him. Your back hit the wall a second later, and you gasped, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands tangled in his hair, still faintly damp from his morning shower. He kissed you like he was starving, his lips hot and insistent against yours. One of his hands slid up, tangling in your hair, while the other gripped your hip, keeping you firmly in place.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You managed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to nip at his jaw. “Blame the lollipop.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and heated. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“On the table,” you teased, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

With a low chuckle, he grabbed the discarded lollipop, holding it up as if examining it. Then, to your shock, he popped it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s mine,” you protested weakly, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore,” he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, the faint sweetness of the candy mixing with the heat of his mouth. The combination was intoxicating, making your head spin.

His hands roamed, gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt to brush against your bare skin. Every touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your lips.

“Sangwoo,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Sangwoo,” you repeated, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing ragged. “You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” he said, his voice low and raw.

“Good,” you shot back, your smirk returning. “Serves you right, old man.”

His laugh was quiet, almost disbelieving, before his lips found yours again, pulling you into another dizzying kiss.

His hand was going lower and lower, first to your collarbone, then to your waist. It slowly inched the topband of your shorts, pulling it back and letting it slap onto your skip, making you yelp.

His other hand held you steady at the waist, while his dominant one went under your boxers.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a solid minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Sangwoo would be able to hear you (Dad was tone deaf) or he might come home earlier than expected from his business meetings.

And his fingers— God, his hands. So strong and thick. They linger over the soft pudge of your cunt, pressing into the warm skin and pulling apart each sticky fold to ghost over the quiver and throb of your acawaiting, needy clit. How overwhelming they were, using his thumb to rub smooth circles into it, eliciting a wet squelch as his fingers sunk into your hot, gummy walls.

You latched your hands on his shoulders, back arching into the wall with the sudden intrusion. You muffled any noise you made by hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He propped you up higher on the wall, letting your head fall back, while his eyes never left yours.

“Sangwo–,” you were cut off by him suddenly sliding your shorts down. You remembered with embarrassment that you had worn–

“Huh. Hello Kitty.” the man stated while looking at your bright pink boxers. Your face flushed, turning to look away, while Sanwoo slid your boxers down and continued to have his way with your sopping cunt.

You had no idea how long you had been in that position. He had taken your leg and placed it on your shoulder, making you somewhat balance on one leg, back resting on the wall and your hands on his shoulder.

Sangwoo on the other hand was obsessed with how his fingers were practically being devoured by your needy cunt, the slick making it easier to slide in every time.

He determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his belt, along with his pants and boxers, which were now pooling at his knees.

He used his toned arms to steadily lift both your legs up, making you squeak. Your knees were now at the same level of your shoulders. Before you could let out a remark, he had slid the tip of his length into your gummy walls, eyes going wide with how tight you were.

“Fuck…so tight f’me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, and before you could respond, he had slid all the way in, making you gasp.

Using the opportunity, he captured your lips with his once more, muffling the sweet moans that came from you. He wanted to hear you, but your neighbours seemed to be quite…nosy.

When he had buried his cock all the way to the hilt, he stopped.

“Please…fuck, Sangwoo–,” you whined, feeling full but it just. wasn’t. enough.

“Please what doll? Use your words,” he teased, the smugness evident on his face.

“Fuck me till my legs are shaking. Please please plea–,” before you could finish, Sangwoo had slid out and he rammed into you once more, making you let out an almost pornographic moan.

He went at it like an animal, fucking into you with reckless abandon, as though he was in a rut. Your hands went from his shoulders to his back, your nails (whatever was left of them after you bit them off) scratched his back, leaving crescent shaped indents on his skin.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. He seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point.

“San..Sangwoo..I– ” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a rapid stream. Your fingers dug ineffectually into his back as a way of forgetting the overstimulation against the older man’s harsh thrusts.

He groaned, feeling the sting of your nails and how your cunt was clenching around his length with every thrust.

He continued going even after you came, his hips retracting at a fast pace. His grip on your waist tightened, pressing down onto your flesh.

“ I’m gonna-- “, he breathes out before (reluctantly) pulling out of your tight hole and climaxing all over your stomach.

The warmth of the liquid seeped down your stomach, settling in your navel and even going further to your used cunt.

As he was staring at your hole, that was still clenching around nothing, you brought your shaky hand to his face and dived in for another kiss.

The sound of a key turning in the door was unheard. Your dad’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Forgot my wallet! Need to get the groceries– What the… CHO SANGWOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SON–”

Shit.

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enwoso · 2 days ago

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YOU DID WHAT? | alessia russo x leah williamson

still part of the grumpy universe, just lovie’s not exactly in this. 🙃

grumpy universe masterlist

alessia sat on the edge of her couch, staring blankly at her phone. the house now quiet as you were tucked in bed, your soft snores barely audible through the walls.

alessia's heart was heavy with doubt as she re-read harrison's message for what felt like hundredth time.

(maybe) harrison | 'thank you for letting me spend time with her. i'll do my best to make it right.'

her thumbs hovered over the screen, debating whether to respond. how to response: a simple reaction to the message? a quick few word response? or just ignore it?

a part of her still reeled from the decision she had made — a decision which felt impossible to undo now.

a knock at the door startled her from her thoughts as she swiped off the chat with harrison, as she glanced at the clock: 8:30pm. it was leah.

she opened the door to find leah standing there, a bag filled with alessia's favourite snacks and an expression that immediately eased some of the blondes tension. but not all of it.

"i stopped on the way, got all your favourite snacks. you sounded like you could do with a few pick me ups when i called earlier" leah smiled, stepping inside.

"you have no idea," alessia replied with a faint smile, closing the door quietly behind her, the two not making too much noise in the hallway not wanting to wake you.

leah set the bag of food down on the kitchen counter, turning around to find the cupboard filled with small bowls — leah knowing the kitchen as if it was her own.

turning to face, alessia who was stood leant against the counter her eyebrows knitted together as leah took in her girlfriends tense expression. "all right, spill. what's happened?"

alessia hesitated, she hadn't told anyone of her thoughts and decision when it came to harrison all everyone knew was that he had been in contact. they didn't know that you had met your dad and spent the afternoon with him.

alessia hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. "i- um." alessia paused, leah's look deepening before she continued, "lovie, she spent the afternoon with harrison"

leah blinked, her head tilting slightly to the side, "you did what? hang on, harrison? as in harrison, her dad harrison."

alessia nodded, avoiding her gaze, "alone?" leah asked as alessia immediately shook her head.

"no, i met him about a week ago see what his intentions were and then set up to meet him at the park and i took lovie with me and let him meet her there." alessia explained as leah looked on slight surprise in her face, "he is her dad. i thought it was the right thing to do"

leah stared at her for a moment, her shock evident, "so you met the boy who basically broke your heart and left you when you were pregnant to bring up a child when you were still young yourself and now, now he want to be in her life.. and for the record you said.. yes?”

“yeah” alessia admitted, her voice cracking as it filled with doubt. as leah looked at her pure confusion in her face, trying to wrap her mind around the whole situation. alessia had told her that harrison had been in touch but the blonde had never said anything else about it so leah thought alessia had just ignored him..

“why? and why now?”

“i don’t know, like i told you he messaged me out the blue. said he wanted to meet her and wanted to try and be in her life and lovie deserves to know her dad, doesn’t she?”

leah exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, “i get that, i do. i promise i do. but the way you told me he reacted back then..” she trailed off, shaking her head, “i just don’t want you, or tiny, getting hurt”

alessia’s chest tightened slightly, “you think i haven’t thought about that? about how he might just disappear again. but also what if he doesn’t? what if he really means it this time and he has changed?”

leah softened, stepping closer. “you’ve been the one holding everything together for the last four and a half years, less. you didn’t need him then and you definitely don’t need him now. but i know your doing this for tiny, and i’ll be here to support you if you need it but it’s okay to admit this scares you”

“it terrifies me,” alessia whispered, her voice trembling, “i don’t want to let him hurt her, but le she was so happy today and i don’t know what’s worse letting him in and risking it or keeping him out and not letting her have a relationship she might need.”

leah reached out, placing her hands on alessia’s hips, “you don’t need to figure it all out tonight. but whatever happens your not alone. you’ll always have me and so will tiny.”

alessia’s eyes welled with tears, “what would i do without you?”

leah smiled softly, “you’d survive but i’m here and i’m not going anywhere, i promise”

before alessia could respond, leah leaned in, kissing her with a gentleness that seemed to wash away her doubts even if it was only for a moment. the kiss was grounding, a silent promise that alessia wasn’t alone in this. when leah pulled back, she rested her forehead against alessia’s”

“i know this isn’t easy for you, to let someone into tinys life,” leah murmured, “but no matter what, we’ll figure it out, together.”

alessia nodded, her tears spilling over but her heart feeling just a little lighter, “together” she echoed. and for the first time that day, she felt like every could maybe be okay.

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chuulyssa · 7 hours ago

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── ★ the one bed trope™ with the squid game men

teaser the guards cleared out too many beds after the last game, assuming there are far fewer survivors than expected. so when your group stumbles into the dormitory, you realize the horrible truth: there’s only one bed for every two players, and your bed is missing!

starring inho gihun (drabbles) & daeho sangwoo ali (hcs) x gn!reader genre fluff fluff all fluff, some nightmares, some crack

a/n wasnt gonna watch s2 but then i saw the lee byunghyun edits and sjsjs theres only few chars here because i havent watched the whole season :( i dont think ill be watching the whole thing any time soon, jus waiting for s3 to drop before watching it all together

inho / youngil / the frontman / 001

youngil stared at the guards while you stared at the bed in front of you. it looked stiff and scratchy, and barely wide enough for one person, let alone two.

“we can share. i don’t mind,” he had said to you, though he had looked tense as well. he sat on the bed, allowing you to scoot over. he laid as close to the edge of the cot as possible.

“oh, it won’t be necessary.”

“well, what other choice do you have?”

you sighed and nodded, awkwardly laying down next to him on the bed. as your shoulders touched each other, he relaxed visibly, though he was still lying on the edge, and that scared you a little.

“stop lying on the edge like that. you’ll fall off,” you warned.

“i’m fine,” he mumbled, staring right up at the ceiling. you kept looking at him, not minding the three times he had glanced your way pointedly at all. “don’t stare.”

“hm, why not?”

“it makes me feel strange,” he said simply.

you nodded, your hands instinctively reaching to your arms to shield yourself from the cold. there was only one blanket with only one bed after all. next thing you knew, you felt the blanket being nudged towards you by youngil’s foot.

“i saw that; it’s not very subtle, you know.”

“what’s not very subtle?” he asked innocently. then he shifted his body closer to yours. “it’s not because of you, okay?” he muttered quietly. “i just didn’t feel like falling off.”

“are you asking for cuddles now?” you snickered.

“no,” he replied gruffly, though his eyes softened slightly at the sound of your silent laughter.

“nuh uh, i think you’re cold as well,” you lifted the blanket up to accommodate him as well. you then glanced at him expectantly. he hesitated for a moment before slipping under the blanket, taking the moment to tightly grasp your hand. you smiled, resting your head above his shoulder on the shared pillow.

you woke up in the middle of the night to find him softly murmuring your name in his sleep. he looked peaceful, beautifully so. you brushed your hand on his chest to wrap it around him, and felt him waking up as well.

“hush, go back to sleep,” you whispered to him, and he raised an eyebrow at nothing in particular. his eyes were still closed. then he let out a tiny giggle and tightened his grip on your hands.

the guards executed this one perfectly, right as per orders from the frontman; hwang inho will make sure to reward them later, but for now he’d rather stay in this shared bed with you by his side.

seong gihun / 456

“i guess it can’t be helped then,” gihun said simply, sitting you down on his bed and pulling the covers over you. “sorry if i snore by the way.”

“what do you mean? where will you be sleeping?”

“on the floor, of course.”

“no, you’re not,” you shook your head, patting the empty space beside you. “i still have some place left here for someone.”

“oh, then let me find someone who can’t find a partn—”

you pulled the man down onto the bed, his face crashing against the pillow. throwing the covers over him as well, you turned to face him, muttering, “you really aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“no, uhm, what if i hog the blanket? that would be unpleasant—”

“i can live with that.”

gihun blinked rapidly. “i don’t think i should be sleeping. what if someone attacks?”

“relax, they’re keeping watch.”

“i think i should keep watch with them,” gihun gulped at your proximity.

“well, i don’t. and you need sleep; have you seen yourself?” you laughed.

gihun beamed at the sound. “then how about I tell you a story?”

“a story?”

“yeah, to make you happy.”

“why though?” you said tiredly.

“to make you laugh. i like seeing you laugh,” he said genuinely, and you nodded in response. his eyes lit up and he began, “so there was this one cow, and it had a baby cat—”

…

“gihun?”

he snored.

“gihun!”

he snored again.

did he really fall asleep mid-sentence? you sighed, shaking your head before snuggling up to him. he unconsciously draped an arm over you in his sleep.

throughout the night, he kept tossing and turning, before—

smack !

you clutched your face where gihun’s hand had just made contact. before letting out the loud cuss you wanted to, you peeked over to see if he was asleep. and sure enough, if the snores hadn’t let it be known earlier, then the closed eyes did.

“this dumbass,” you muttered, nuzzling your face into his side.

but what could you do either way? if you complained, he’d be mortified and force you to switch places, and you’d lose a chance to cuddle with him. so you instead figured the occasional smacking would be worth being the first person to see his hair sticking out in every direction with his sheepish grin in the morning.

a/n: i’ve only got hcs for the others; sorry guys i prefer my old men inho and gihun :P

daeho / 388

he insists on taking the less comfortable side of the bed

even if that meant he barely has any space MY GNELTMAN

at some point his hand will brush yours (because its an ff duh) and he’ll get all startled like :O

but he won’t move away because he decides he likes it

we all know the trauma this man carries :( so don’t be surprised when his grip on your hand loosens in the middle of the night and his face scrunches up because he’s having a nightmare

just please cuddle with him :(( he’ll try to play it off like it’s nothing but know better!

when you quietly offer comfort, his defenses will crumble, and he’ll whisper a quiet thank you to you

in the morning he’ll wake up before you and realize just how close the two of you are.

he’s been bearhugging you in his sleep and you’re reciprocating it? hes so confused like ??????? do you wanna get choked or sum yes you do

he’ll just quietly stare at you as if he’s in a daze. he’s got that lovesick smile and all, just silently looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen you are

he just as silently fixes the blanket on you because he wants to offer as much comfort as you did last night to him

then he’ll gently apologize to you for disturbing you, smiling to himself when you grumble in your sleep

sangwoo / 218

this little shit

he’ll pretend not to care about you or about the bed or about the entire situation at all

but you can see how he tries to be as subtle as possible when adjusting the pillow under your head to make sure you’re comfortable

you’re practically begging him to accept his feelings atp but this man is a menace

as soon as he saw the one bed he started calculating how much space you’ll take and how much he’ll get

if you shift closer in your sleep he’ll freeze for a moment but he won’t pull away

if you move a lot in your sleep he won’t say anything just yet

but expect to be bombarded with complaints when you wake up in the morning

he watches you out of the corner of his eye, something he describes as “just trying to protect you” by “keeping watch” but you know he’s just dazzled by your beauty who isnt

he’ll lie awake for a while staring up at that huge piggy bank that his future lies in, and he knows he can’t love you like he wants to, but he hopes that just this once his brain will accept what his heart feels

when the sunlight hits his face in the morning, he’ll look so peaceful that it makes even ali question his mood

all the while gihun is just staring in horror at sangwoo like he got some puss

ali / 199

THE POOKIEST POOKIE

he’s so shy UGH i jus wanna gobble him up sjsjsjkgnskjn

but he can’t help smiling softly when he realizes how comfortable you seem to be around him

he’ll offer to sleep on the cold hard floor and insists you take the blanket for yourself, but duh you don’t allow that

so with a grin on his face he lies down next to you

he asks you if you need more space at least 10 times, he’s that nervous

the blanket stays on you though, he can’t risk you feeling cold or uncomfy because of him GNELTMENANN

he’ll stay awake if you want someone to talk to, or to make sure you’re warm enough, or even just to admire you

but if you don’t want that, he’ll pull an aurora and fall asleep so quickly you don’t even realize it

his hand stays brushing against yours under the blanket though, and you feel so warm and fuzzy next to him

he’s a snuggler, so there’ll be times where he’ll shift very close to you in his sleep, not realizing the hand he’s keeping on your waist or the head he’s resting on your chest

someone points it out in the morning and he’s so flustered he apologizes profusely even though you keep telling him you didn’t mind it all

definitely says something like “i slept with you, remember?” because he doesn’t realize it’s an innuendo

207 notes · View notes

formula-ghost · 17 hours ago

Text

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 1

SERIES SUMMARY: You’ve been best friends with Oscar Piastri since you were seven, far before the dream of Formula 1 even seemed possible. You’ve been with him from the very beginning—due, in no small part, to the fact that you’ve been in love with him since you were a teenager. But when a breakup and championship battle rattles the very foundations of your friendship, you begin to question if you ever really knew him. (Best friends to lovers, based on the song Wildflower by Billie Eilish)

WORD COUNT: 11.1k

WARNINGS: Oscar is not a very good boyfriend to Lily and Lily is not a very good girlfriend to Oscar. Potentially changed some dates (I think Oscar and Lily started dating when they were 17 or 18, but I’m making them 18 for the sake of the flashback scenes). Reader is “the girl he told me not to worry about” through no fault of her own. This story has a lot of complex character dynamics and everyone is flawed! References to sex but no actual smut.

A/N: Ah new series! I hope this is good—I’m trying some new stuff with the flashbacks and story layers, so I hope it doesn’t read too confusingly! Also, I’m trying to be more intentional with showing instead of telling with my dialogue and such, so hopefully that is an improvement. I always welcome constructive criticism, but either way, I hope you all enjoy this.

“Lily left me.”

He only needed those three words to convey the gravity of the situation. On the other end of the line, you were silent. He was too. What was there to say?

No, it couldn’t be real. Oscar and Lily were inseparable. The dream couple of Formula 1. Your best friend had been in love with her since the pair were 18, attending boarding school in the UK together while Oscar pursued his dreams of making it to F1.

They were each other’s everything. At least, that’s what the world thought.

But you had seen this coming for a while now. It was just a shock for it to actually happen.

Finally, after an eternity, you spoke, still too shocked to formulate a coherent thought. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean she fucking left me. What else do you want me to say?” You could hear the quivering in his voice, giving away the sadness behind his abrasive response. You weren’t offended one bit.

“Shit, Osc, I’m so sorry. I… don’t know what to say. Do you want me to come over? Or you can come to mine?”

“I’m outside yours right now. In the car park.”

“I’ll let you in,” you said. The mental image you conjured of Oscar outside your apartment crying in his fancy McLaren would have been comical, if not given the circumstances.

He let himself in only a few moments later, hoodie covering his tall and muscled frame. He was soaked from the rain outside—he must have come directly from the confrontation.

“Oh, Oscar,” you said, pulling him into a hug, cringing at the contact with his soggy hoodie, but knowing that there were far more important things to be worried about.

You rubbed your hands up and down his shoulder blades that now heaved with sobs. His entire body shook with the fervor of his tears, and you just held him, gently shushing him and promising that everything will be okay.

“I don’t know how she could do this to me,” he said, gasping out the words between haggard breaths. “The championship—I can’t do it without her.”

“I know,” you assured him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No it’s not, YN, it’s not gonna be okay. I love her. And she just threw away so many years.”

“I know.” You just kept assuring him, tightening your grip on him as his sobs became more intense. “Just breathe.”

“Why would she do this to me?” he asked. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

You knew. And deep down, Oscar did too. That was a conversation for another day. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming.

You didn’t have it in you to lie to him. You had always been the type to pride yourself on being honest, even when the truth hurt, but you couldn’t bear to do it now. You changed the subject.

“Oscar, you’re soaking wet. I’ll find you something else and warm that up in the dryer, yeah? Just sit down, take a deep breath, and let me get this figured out.”

He sat down on your couch and took off his hoodie and t-shirt underneath, revealing his toned body. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before—you’d been friends with him since you were seven, growing up together. He almost felt like a brother to you, sometimes.

Maybe it wouldn’t be weird at all, except for the fact that you’d been in love with him for over a decade now.

But right now that didn’t matter. He had plenty of old hoodies over in your apartment, which you carefully folded every time he forgot them. Placing his wet clothes in the dryer and setting the temp on high, you reached to the shelf above you and grabbed a random one. You unfolded it—an Alpine hoodie from back in the day, before his time at McLaren. You smiled at the memories that flashed in your mind, before quickly returning to Oscar with the garment.

He had moved from your couch to your bedroom, holding a pillow on his lap, hunched over where the top of it met his chin. He was staring off into space, not breaking his gaze at the plain white wall.

You sat next to him, handing him the hoodie, and he mumbled a small thanks as he grabbed it. He didn’t put it on, instead just holding it with the pillow, as if filling his arms with the plush material would fill the hole now left in his heart.

“Oscar, I… don’t have anything profound to say. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond at first, instead just silently letting the tears well up in his eyes.

“I guess I should have seen this coming,” he said quietly.

You paused, unsure whether or not you should agree with him. But you were nothing if not honest.

“Yeah,” you said, “it’s been a rough few months.”

“I guess we just both fell out of love.”

“I mean… how did the conversation go?”

It would be stupidly easy for Oscar to lie and say he didn’t remember Lily’s every word. But he knew better, and so did you. As he explained, the memory replayed in his head.

“I can’t do this anymore, Oscar,” Lily said, a simple yet devastating statement.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” His confusion was genuine, much to the chagrin of his angry girlfriend.

“The fact that you even have to ask that proves my point.”

“Lily, talk to me. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Oscar stood up, now understanding the full gravity of the situation he found himself in.

“I’m trying to say that I’m not happy anymore, and neither are you. I wanted to at least give it until the end of the season, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when we both know bloody well that it’s not! Don’t you want something better than this, Oscar?” Lily pleaded.

“I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Don’t lie to me. You say that but you put everything else before me. I’m not a priority to you. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“I’ll quit F1. We can go back to the UK and live a normal life.”

“No. We both know that you wouldn’t do that.” Her tone was incredulous, twinged with a slight anger at the mere suggestion.

“Yes, I would. I’d do anything. Don’t do this, Lily. Not now, not when I need you the most.”

Lily grabbed his hand, leading him to sit down on the couch next to her. “Oscar,” she began, “we had a good run. You made me so, so happy for so long.” She reached up to gently cup his cheeks and wipe away where tears were now forming at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you achieve things that neither of us ever thought were possible. But…I can’t stay any longer. Not when there’s no place for me in your heart anymore.”

You sighed. You knew every word that Lily had said was right. But you also knew you couldn’t get that through to Oscar, at least not until the shock wore off.

The words remained unspoken. You had been there for all of it. Lily was his first love, his only girlfriend, and everyone assumed that he’d marry her one day; you included.

“I just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on acting like my life didn’t just fall apart. How did you do it?”

This was Oscar's first breakup, but you had been through too many, it seemed, since he was asking you for advice on how to handle them.

The truth? It was very easy to get over a breakup when every partner you’ve ever had was a feeble attempt at denial. When they all inevitably failed, you just went back to bask in Oscar’s platonic love. It was enough.

“I won’t lie to you, the first one is always hell. You feel like you’re going crazy for a while. You lose hope that you’ll ever feel happier, because everything reminds you of them. And then one day it just…doesn’t. The only thing that heals it is time and finding love around you, you know, friends and family.”

“No offense, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

‘Well, I’m not going to lie to you and say it’ll be easy, because it won't. But it will be okay—not today, but someday. You’ve got something to focus on with the championship. And I’ll be here.” You gave him an empathetic smile.

Maybe you weren’t the most comforting friend to most. But you and Oscar had a bond that was very different to most friendships. You understood each other’s idiosyncrasies in ways no one else could. So when shit hit the fan, it was always each other that you went to.

You continued, “You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

There was only one problem: your apartment only had one bed. And to the dismay of fanfiction writers across the world, you all would not be sharing it.

You distracted Oscar by cooking a meal and watching a comfort movie—Cars, a classic. You could tell he was exhausted by the way his head on your shoulder sloped just a little too heavily downwards as the credits rolled.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed,” you said, gently pushing him awake. He sleepily stumbled back into your bedroom and collapsed on the bed, almost instantly falling back asleep.

You took the couch, but despite the money you spent splurging on the extra cushioned sofa, no sleep came to you.

It wasn’t any physical discomfort that fueled your insomnia, but rather, the events of the previous evening. Lily had actually left Oscar. She had finally pulled the plug.

Yes, in some ways, it was expected. But at the same time, you couldn’t imagine a version of your best friend that wasn’t madly in love with his girlfriend.

From the outside, though, you couldn’t blame Lily one bit. You wondered what had been the last straw.

You could think of three possible moments. First: The Apartment.

“I’m moving to Monaco,” Oscar began, and you felt your heart drop in your stomach. Of course, one day he’d make it to Monaco. That was the dream of every Formula 1 driver, right? The beauty of the French Riviera and tax evasion. And you’d be left at your aging flat in the UK, waiting for those precious few days a year where he was free to grace you with his presence.

“That’s amazing!” you said, only half believing it to be true.

“In a few weeks I’m gonna go look at condos. Come with me? Lily can’t get off work.”

“Of course,” you replied. You’d already been to Monaco before for Oscar’s races, but you wouldn’t turn down any reason to get out of the constant dreary rain of the UK.

You felt like a celebrity as you coasted through the Monte Carlo streets in the passenger side of Oscar’s McLaren, on your way to tour fabulous properties for your best friend (the actual celebrity). You breathed in the saltwater breeze, fresh and tinged with the air of wealth and splendor.

But it hurt your heart to know that you were helping your best friend leave. You imagined him getting up and doing his morning runs along the harbor, the sun blazing down the strained muscles on his back. Then you laughed to yourself at the thought of Oscar, the pastiest Aussie you knew, getting sunburnt.

At the first property you met the realtor, who (after mistaking you for Lily; not the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last) took the pair of you to different condos throughout the day.

Oscar decided on the final one you saw; two bedrooms, plenty of natural light, and a great view. Elegant, refined and practical—just like Oscar himself.

The realtor handed him the paperwork and left as you stood on the balcony, looking at the beauty of the city before you. You were quiet, unusually so, and Oscar noticed.

He sat the paperwork on the kitchen counter and walked onto the balcony next to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice lowered. “You’re gonna make such beautiful memories here.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me now?”

You smiled and laughed. “A little,” you admitted, “I can’t help it. I’ll miss you all.”

“You could always come with us. You seem to like it here,” he teased, tilting his head toward the edge of the balcony.

“You’d have to give me a raise if I was gonna afford Monaco rent prices.” You’d been running Oscar’s merch store and social media for the past few years, making a great wage, but nowhere near the immense wealth you’d need to call a place like this home. You joked with him, knowing Oscar actually had nothing to do with how much you got paid.

“I would if I could. But, I mean, if you had a place to stay it wouldn’t really be that bad.”

“Are you suggesting I move into your guest room?”

Now he laughed. “No, but I’m just saying, if you had an apartment, you could make it work.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused, but trying to go along with the joke. “Well, sure, but apartments don’t just appear out of thin air.”

“You never know.” Oscar scratched the back of his neck and looked away, a sign of the awkwardness that now blanketed your moment on the balcony.

“What are you getting at?”

“Well, theoretically, if someone were to have a spare apartment that they weren’t using, you could live there and Monaco would be a reasonable place to live, no?”

You didn’t answer his question, instead just giving him another confused glance until he gave up whatever he was trying to say. He still couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Look—I don’t want to live so far away from my friend. Is that such a bad thing?”

“Oscar, you…”

“I got you an apartment.”

“You… bought me an apartment. In Monaco.” It came out more like a statement than a question, evidence of your shock. He reached into his pocket and dug out a key, holding it out to you.

You just looked at him with an incredulous expression. “Oscar, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not?”

“How much was it?”

“I have more than enough money.”

“Answer the question.”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “About 4 million?”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Before you say anything,” he began, “I made over 30 million last year. I have more money than I’d ever know what to do with, so why not just spend it all on the people I love?”

“Oscar… I can’t, that’s too much.”

“Will you at least go look at it with me? Actually, I’m driving, so you don’t have a choice,” he joked, walking back into the apartment. “Let’s go.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself. There was no way you could let Oscar buy you a 4 million dollar apartment, but also, how could you not? The wind whipped through your hair as you rolled down the window of his McLaren, drinking in the beauty of the city around you.

The apartment was smaller than the one he had picked for himself and Lily, but you didn’t mind one bit. It was perfectly cosy, and God, the view was spectacular. You could see the whole city from his apartment, but here, you could see the water. You stepped on the balcony and took a deep breath, taking in the sound of the ocean waves beneath you.

Oscar followed you. “It’s a bit small, but I figured you’d like the view.”

“Oscar…”

“If you really don’t want it, I can rent it out. But I’d much rather have you close.” He held out the keys again. “What do you say?”

You could have told him you needed more time to think about it, but deep down, you already knew what you wanted. You took the keys. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Oscar. Seriously.”

“No need to thank me.” He smiled.

Back in the UK, he showed Lily the photos he had taken of the condo he had chosen for them as they went over the paperwork one last time.

He grabbed the pen to scratch out one of the boxes Lily had checked, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Oh, did I mess something up?” Shit. She leaned over his shoulder, reading the paperwork aloud. “Please indicate if you own any additional properties in the principality of Monaco.” She looked at Oscar. “You already have a property there?”

“Oh, erm, yeah,” he said, hoping the conversation would end there.

“How come I never heard about this?”

“Um, I just got it a bit ago.”

Lily could sense her boyfriend’s hesitancy. “Is this something I wasn’t supposed to know about?”

“Oh, no,” he said, “it’s not like that. I just didn’t think to mention it.”

“So, what is this property?”

“An apartment.”

Lily hated feeling like she was having to interrogate Oscar, but clearly there was some piece of the puzzle missing that was causing his reluctance.

“An apartment?” she questioned. “You got another apartment?”

“Yeah, I, um,” he looked at the ceiling while scratching his neck, a clear sign of his nervousness, “I was planning on giving it to YN.”

“You bought YN an apartment in Monaco? When were you planning on telling me about this?”

His walls of defense had finally broken down. “It’s not a big deal. I made more than enough last season, I could afford it. And it’s just easier to have her there for the brand shoots and media stuff. Plus, I mean, she came to London to support me after graduation, even though I know she hates it here. I just figured I should repay the favor.”

“...Okay,” Lily began, her voice tinged with skepticism. “So, you do realize what this looks like, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my boyfriend bought an apartment for his “best friend” and tried to hide it from me. That’s the kind of thing cheating husbands do in movies, buy an apartment for their mistress for her to keep it quiet.”

Oscar wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the air quotes Lily placed around “best friend” or the insinuation that he had been unfaithful.

“Lily, seriously? I’m not cheating on you, I love you and you know that.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. You know YN and I have been friends forever, it’s not like I did this for some random woman. I don’t appreciate being accused of lying.”

“But you were lying by omission.”

“Lily—”

“You know, nothing against her, but one of the reasons I was looking forward to this move was having more…us time. Without YN.”

The statement brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Despite what she had said, it seemed like Lily did have something against you.

“You know, this kind of thing is why I was putting off telling you about it.”

“What are you saying?” she asked. Oscar knew he was tempting fire, but he didn’t care.

He continued, “You’re freaking out because I did something kind for a friend. I’m allowed to do whatever I want with my money.”

“I never said you weren’t, and I’m not freaking out. But I guess I’m just such a horrible person for saying I want to spend more time with my boyfriend.”

“If you’re putting down my “best friend” to do it,” he said, mocking her air quotes, “then yeah, that’s not cool.”

“Oscar, you’re being so…weird about all of this. I’m not insulting YN. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“We’re literally going on vacation in February!”

“With friends. You invited your friends to our romantic getaway, Oscar.”

“You know I only have so much time off during the off season, and I’m spending most of it with realtors and accountants and eight thousand other people preparing us for this move. God forbid I want to invite my friends to Italy with us. Not everything can be just us, Lily.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m done with this conversation.”

The second next instance you could think of happened on the trip.

It was a beautiful getaway to the Amalfi Coast, your dream destination that you’d somehow never made it to.

The group of Oscar’s friends, including you and Lando, had plans to come and go, with everyone being gone before the fourteenth so that Oscar and Lily could have their Valentine's Day date. Of course, you knew nothing of the arguments they’d had in the past about this, but you had common sense enough to not be a third wheel. Oscar thought this was a good enough compromise.

Well, he thought.

From the moment he picked you up from the airport, you could tell that the energy was different than usual. He blamed it on jet lag, but you knew better. You knew your best friend too well.

It didn’t take you long to figure out the problem was between him and Lily. She was colder towards him; not enough for anyone but you and him to notice, but still there and undeniable.

Even weirder was Lily’s…preoccupation, it seemed, with pointing out single and attractive men to you. It wasn’t a hushed reality that you were single, and had been for some time. You'd given up on dating a long time ago—you knew that you had already found the love of your life, and he just happened to be Lily’s boyfriend.

But, of course, you’d never tell anyone this. Lots of people were confused because you seemed so fine being single. But you thought that Lily, one of your best friends (at least, by association), would know that you weren’t really interested in meeting anyone.

You sat with Lily in a restaurant overlooking the coast, the balcony having been rented out by Oscar for one of your last dinners. You all were waiting for him and Lando to join you, passing the time by ordering wine and appetizers.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Lily said, gesturing her head to your waiter that was walking back into the main restaurant.

You didn’t really know what to say. You glanced at him through the glass wall. “Lily, he most definitely plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” you joked, reaching for a slice of bread on the table. “I didn’t know that was your type.”

“Well I don’t mean for me, I meant for you.”

You chuckled. “For me?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you want to get yourself a hot Italian man?”

“I’m perfectly happy being single.” You tried to diffuse the awkward conversation, keeping a kind tone in your voice as you ate the bread and looked into the distance at the coastline.

“Oh, come on. We’ll get you someone, don’t worry.”

“I really am fine being single.”

“You know who else is single?” she asked, clearly ignoring your protests. “Lando!”

You laughed aloud. “Oh God, no. If I wanted to be cheated on, I would have stayed with my ex. Besides, Oscar would kill him.”

A curious fact: Oscar had never approved of a single person you had ever introduced him to. You had to spend hours talking him out of running over your ex with his F1 car after you found out about his infidelity.

“Oh, who cares what Oscar thinks? I think you should go for it,” she said, watching as the waiter returned to pour your glasses of wine.

“Lily,” you said, holding your glass, ready to take a sip, “I don’t want to be in a relationship, like, at all. It’s just…not for me.” You sipped the wine, but through the reflection on the glass, you could see that Lily had pursed her lips in an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“If you want me to stop third-wheeling you and Oscar, you can just say so,” you joked as the boys made their way to the balcony to join you.

You didn’t know it, but your joke cut deep in Lily’s heart.

Nothing was said about it during the dinner, but Lily’s strange energy continued. It quickly became uncomfortable how much she was pushing Lando and you to interact.

And when you all made your way to a local nightclub after the dinner, it didn’t get any better. Lando quickly got himself lost in the crowd, and you were once again left to be the third wheel.

You could tell that Lily was getting annoyed, but to be fair, she was also annoying you.

“Go dance with Lando!” she shouted over the thumping bass. She gestured to the opposite corner of the small club, where Lando was currently making out with some random Italian woman.

You pointed this fact out to Lily, who just grimaced.

“Do you just want me to go away?” you joked.

“Yes!” she said, and you were taken aback, because she was definitely not joking.

Oscar was at the bar getting drinks, far enough away that he couldn’t hear. To be honest, you didn’t even want to be in this club anymore.

So you snuck out and began your walk home without telling any of them.

As you walked along the cobblestone streets, Oscar handed Lily a drink, pausing when he noticed that you weren’t there to receive yours. “Where’s YN?” he asked.

“She wasn’t feeling well, so she headed back,” Lily said.

“By herself? Should we go check on her?”

Lily wanted to roll her eyes. “No, she’s just tired. C’mon, let’s go dance!”

Oscar obeyed, but couldn’t ignore the feeling inside him that something about this whole night had been odd.

The next time he saw Lando, he decided to say something about it.

“Hey mate, are you going back soon?” he asked. Lando nodded, clearly tipsy. “Can you check on YN? Lily said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Sure,” he said, annoyed at the mention of you again.

He did come back to the house soon, but with an equally drunk and giggly woman on his arm, the same girl he had been making out with in the corner of the club.

You didn’t expect any of them for a long time, so you sat in the living room of the AirBNB, watching the waves cascade into the shore, romanticizing this complicated feeling that coiled itself inside of you.

That was, until Lando stumbled in.

His eyes got wide as dinner plates upon seeing you. The girl on his arm giggled and walked off into the nearest bathroom.

“Hey YN,” he slurred. “Are you dying?”

You laughed. “I’m fine.”

“Lily said you were sick.”

“Nope, I’m good.”

He looked to the closed door of the bathroom. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“You’re fine. I’m…uh, not interested, anyway. I don’t know what Lily’s been on about today.”

“Oh, thank God,” he exhaled. You laughed, despite the sting of rejection in his relief. “Well, I’ll keep it quiet.”

“I’ve got headphones.”

You made your way to your room and put on your noise cancelling headphones, passing the time by scrolling and catching up on work emails, before falling asleep.

You didn’t sleep through the night, instead waking up in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was just beginning to round itself along the golden coast. You left your room to get a glass of water, not expecting to see the rest of your friends in the kitchen.

Lily looked hungover as hell, leaning her elbow on the counter, her hand resting uncomfortably on her forehead. Oscar was leaning against the counter on the other side while Lando sat at the bar next to Lily, drinking something out of a mug. His flight home was going to leave soon.

You nodded to your three companions as you sipped your water glass, feeling the tension around you like an oncoming migraine.

“You feeling okay?” Oscar asked. “Lily said you weren’t doing well last night.”

“Ah, just tired,” you answered. Lily had lied to both Lando and Oscar. That was a conversation for another day.

“Well rested now?” Lily asked, her voice tinged with anger and fake sympathy.

“I’m fine,” was all you could answer. You glanced at Oscar, who gave you a knowing look. You had no idea what had gotten into her.

“Are you feeling okay, Lily? You look like you’re about to throw up,” you said, a more genuine concern in your voice.

“I’m fine too,” she said, clearly not fine.

Lando’s Uber pulled up, and you took the opportunity to help him transfer all his bags in one trip.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on with her?” he asked as you heaved the suitcase up into the trunk.

“No idea,” you answered. “Before you all got to the restaurant last night she was being…weird. For the record, I didn’t put her up to any of that.”

“I figured as much. You’re not the type.” Lando was right—it was common knowledge that you were happily single.

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. For the record, it made me uncomfortable too.”

He exhaled. “Eh, we’re cool. No hard feelings, yeah? I’m sure she’ll snap out of it.”

“I hope so,” you said, giving him a wave as the car disappeared into the winding roads of the coast.

Back in the house, you could hear Oscar and Lily whispering to each other. You wanted nothing more than to disappear and act like this weird night and morning had never happened, but unfortunately, you had to cross through the kitchen back to your room.

A hush went through the room when you entered. You walked as quickly as possible through the kitchen, but were stopped by a voice.

“YN,” Lily called. “I think you should leave.”

“Lily—” Oscar interjected.

“I was just going back to my room anyway,” you explained.

“That’s not what I meant. I think you should go home.”

“Lily, don’t do this—” Oscar pleaded. You just stood in shock.

“Actually, let me clarify,” she continued. “YN, I don’t want you here. Go home.”

“Lily!” Oscar interjected. “Don’t say that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, even though it was definitely not fine. “Let me pack and I’ll be on my way.”

You turned and continued back to your room, fully prepared to do as you had just said. But Oscar followed you.

“YN, wait. Stay,” he said.

“Oscar, it’s fine.”

“I am so sorry that Lily said that, but I want you here.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two or why she’s so upset at me, but if someone tells me to go, I’m not going to overstay my welcome.”

“Still, that was so rude.”

“I’ve got thick skin. I won’t cry myself to sleep over it.” You looked out the window to the coast. “Look, I’ll just find someplace else to stay. A hotel for a few nights is cheaper than trying to reschedule my flight, anyways.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, Osc,” you said, patting his shoulder. “Go talk to her, figure out what’s wrong.”

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I already know what’s wrong. She’s mad that we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Then go spend time with her.”

“That was the plan! But, I mean, I’m pissed that she said that to you. And she spent all day yesterday trying to set you and Lando up, which was fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled with a twinge of laughter. “Look, with my record I can’t exactly give you love advice, but I don’t mind leaving. You all clearly need some space, anyway. Just text me if you need anything, okay?”

Oscar gave you a flat smile and nod.

You packed and quickly booked a private room at a local hostel for the next few days, planning to enjoy the last few days as a solo trip. You truly didn’t care, but in the back of your mind, you hoped that everything would be okay. You never received that text from Oscar.

Back at the house, Oscar and Lily were alone. And neither of them were happy.

“Just fucking go with her if you’re that mad,” Lily said, egging Oscar on. He had always been slow to anger, but he couldn’t deny that he was pissed.

“What is wrong with you?” he questioned. “Why would you say that to her? Do you understand how rude that is? And not to mention the fact that you were being fucking weird with her and Lando all night.”

“Oscar, I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“No, I’m pissed!”

“And, as usual, it’s all about your feelings, hm?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act stupid. Do you know how much I’ve put up with because I don’t want to hurt your feelings? Every vacation, every race weekend, she’s always there. And I put up with her because she’s your friend, but I don’t like her, Oscar.”

“What did she do to you?” he asked. But Lily couldn’t answer. It wasn’t like there had been a specific incident or falling out; in fact, you had always been kind to her. Lily’s silence was all the answer that Oscar needed.

“You knew that YN and I were a package deal from the beginning.”

Tears came to Lily’s eyes. “But this was supposed to be our trip. Just us.”

“Lily, they were only here for a few days. I specifically set it up so that we’d have 2 weeks to ourselves after they left. Is that not enough?”

She was silent, at first. Then came a question out of left field.

“Were you going to propose?” she asked.

Oscar made a face. “Propose?”

“I thought the point of the trip was that you were going to propose.” She looked away, trying to hide her tears. “I’m tired of feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. I’m sick of YN third wheeling, so I thought if I set her up with Lando, maybe she’d leave us alone for a while.” Her voice was tinged with an angry mocking.

She continued, softer, “Oscar, I want to be your wife, I want to grow old with you—”

But Oscar had little sympathy for her. “That’s really what all this was about? Lily, I’m not proposing any time soon.”

“We’ve been together for nearly five years.”

“I know. But with the season starting soon—”

“There’ll always be another season, another race. Is your plan to just marry me when you retire?” The sarcasm had returned to her voice. “Do you even want to marry me?”

“Of course I do. But we’re young, we have time. I’m in no rush.”

“I feel like you don’t care about what I want at all.”

“Lily, I’m trying. But I feel like you want me to cut off my best friend and settle down at 22. You’re asking things of me that I can’t give you.”

“Then why are we even doing this?” Lily asked.

“Because I love you, and I want this to work! But Lily, you can’t treat my friends like that. If you’re angry at me, talk to me, but don’t take it out on them. YN is an important part of my life, too.”

“I’m well aware.”

Oscar sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Lily announced, leaving the conversation altogether.

When she woke up, her head was pounding. Oscar was asleep beside her, his back towards her, no warmth even in his unconscious state. She had slept through the entire day—the moon hung high in the sky.

As she quietly made her way to the kitchen and got some water and a snack, the memory of what had happened came back, rushing over her. She felt horrible.

The sleep and food had reset her mind. Make no mistake, she was still upset at Oscar, but what he had said was right—she shouldn’t have taken it out on you. She needed to make it right.

She texted you. Hey YN, are you awake? I’d like to talk. In person, if you can.

Only a few minutes later you responded, affirming that you were available and sending the address of your hostel. Lily got there quickly, quietly walking through the rooms to your private room in the back. When you shut the door behind you and you both sat on the bed, she broke down.

“YN,” Lily began, “I am so sorry about this morning. Truthfully, I was upset at Oscar and I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have. I was so rude.”

“It’s okay,” you assured.

“No, it’s not,” Lily interjected. But she seemed at a loss for words. “I just… sometimes, I feel like I hardly get any alone time with Oscar anymore.”

“Because I’m always there?” you joked, not knowing how close to the truth you really were. Lily didn’t respond. “Look, if you want me to take a step back, I can do that.”

Her response was quiet. “Would that be too much to ask?”

“No.” But it was, in a way. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, but your expression gave away nothing. “I understand.”

“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” Lily confessed. You normally didn’t want to know the details of their relationship, because the truth was too heavy to bear. But it seemed cruel to cut her off. “I feel like he never wants to be around me, like he prefers his work and his friends over me. I want to get married and he doesn’t. He keeps saying it's too soon and he’s busy, but it’s been nearly five years! I mean, how long does he want me to wait?”

You felt uncomfortable, not sure how to comfort your best friend's girlfriend. So you were honest. “I don’t know, Lily. I don’t know what goes on in Oscar’s head any more than you do.”

“Yes you do,” she replied. “You’ve known him longer.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“No, no, no,” you said, wrapping Lily in an embrace as she cried. “No, he’s not. He loves you so much.”

“No,” she echoed. “He doesn’t.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You just held her.

At one point, your phone buzzed, illuminating the screen. Some unimportant notification, but you noticed the date and time more than that. It was past midnight; Valentine’s Day.

The third instance was during the first weekend of the 2025 season; the Australian Grand Prix.

You hadn’t heard from Oscar since the trip. You didn’t really know what to say, and part of you was dreading having to speak to him, knowing that your mere presence was now a strain on his relationship.

Of course Lily wanted more time with him. It made sense. You were present at…most things, actually. But Oscar always invited you, and besides, they lived together. If you had known that you had overstayed your welcome, you never would have gone in the first place.

But on the other hand, you and Oscar had been a part of each other’s lives for nearly double the time that Lily had been around. It wasn’t a competition, but you couldn’t shake that sour feeling that rested in your stomach, that if given the chance, Lily would want you gone for good.

Regardless, between the trip and the grand prix, life went on as normal. It was odd, since your job was literally running all the official OP81 media pages and merch website. You couldn’t not be a part of his life—you made your living by posting memes about him on the internet and organizing all his merch sales.

So, naturally, you went to nearly all the races to take photos of fans, the paddock, and the garage. It was one of your favorite parts of the job.

But Australia was different. It was Oscar’s home race, and a place full of memories for you.

Your family had moved to Australia when you were only seven, having absolutely no friends, except the sweet boy next door in your cul de sac. At first he was cold. You thought he hated you. But you were nothing if not stubborn.

You remembered it like it was yesterday; for Christmas, you asked for a pink motorized jeep, just like the black one that Oscar—the neighbour boy, back then—had. You squealed for joy when you got it. And the very first thing you did was challenge him to a race.

He ignored you. So you rammed your car into his, causing both of them to break. Ever since, somehow, you’d been inseparable.

Your parents traveled a lot for work, so instead of constantly going with them, you found yourself staying with the Piastri family for months at a time. Nicole truly felt like your second mom, and Hattie was the sister you never had. And Oscar was…Oscar. It was impossible to describe the bond between you.

Your parents were never too keen on Oscar, though. They kept it quiet when you were little, but as you grew, their dislike became more outward.

He was 14, leaving for boarding school in the UK. When he told you, you cried. That’s the only time he ever saw you cry.

You wanted to go with him, but your parents couldn’t afford it. He promised he wouldn’t let your friendship die, and he was true to his word. When he got into the higher formulas in racing, he helped you get your job so that you all would never be that far from each other again.

But your parents always said he was using you, stringing you along, exploiting your labor. Though you’d never admitted it to another soul, they knew you well enough to understand that you loved him.

You cut your parents off a long time ago.

Sometimes the fans were worse. Half of them loved you—the half that understood that you could give them access to your idol—but the other half of them called you a beneficiary of nepotism, a gold digger, or a homewrecker. You learned at a young age to develop thick skin.

And it was how you both behaved on race weekends that really exemplified the difference between you and Lily.

You liked to be everywhere at once—in the garage trying to interpret the engineers’ technical jargon, in the grandstands taking photos of fans, in the pitlane shooting the shit with the race stewards. You always wore Oscar’s merch, and you wanted to be in the middle of all the action.

Lily, in contrast, was more reserved. She always looked put together, and frankly stunning, at all her appearances. She preferred to watch the race from the comfort and privacy of McLaren hospitality, and when she did interact with fans, she was respectful but short, very conscious of her space.

Neither of you were better or worse than the other. But no one could deny that you were polar opposites.

You got to Australia before Oscar himself did, having been invited to spend a few days with your surrogate family before you’d have to stay in the hotel, per F1 employee policy. Nicole had told Oscar, who you assumed had told Lily, and when you didn’t hear anything for a few days before you were meant to fly out, you thought everything was fine.

Of course, you thought wrong.

You spent 3 days with Oscar’s family, relishing the warm feeling of belonging that you’d missed. The Piastri guest room felt more like your own childhood bedroom. Of course, Nicole asked how you’d been, but you were politely distant, wanting to respect the fact that Oscar and Lily’s relationship was none of your business.

When the pair finally landed in Australia and made their way to Oscar’s childhood home for the night, though, things worsened.

When Nicole got back from picking them up from the airport, you were in the kitchen prepping dinner. Hearing the front door close, you looked up and smiled, greeting the group.

“YN! What are you doing here?” Lily asked, her voice tentative.

Nicole answered for you. “Oh, she’s been here since Sunday. I’m so happy to have all my kids under the same roof again,” she joked, turning to Oscar to reach up and pinch his cheeks.

Lily just gave a pained smile.

You didn’t know what to do. You hadn’t talked to Oscar in nearly a month. You wanted to honor her wishes—but it seemed like her wish was for you to vanish into thin air.

The rest of the night you were unusually quiet, trying to blend into the background. It wasn’t difficult for Nicole to notice that something was up, but she knew better than to bring it up in front of the whole table.

After dinner she wanted everyone to gather in the living room and watch a movie, which you quickly bowed out of, complaining of exhaustion.

As the credits rolled, Nicole leaned over to whisper to Oscar, “Is everything okay with YN?”

Lily overheard and interjected, “She’s fine.” Nicole raised an eyebrow.

Oscar responded, “The home grand prix is always busy for her.”

The answer wasn’t sufficient enough to crush Nicole’s suspicions, but she didn’t have any more time to pry as her son and his girlfriend quickly decided to retire for the night themselves.

The next morning, as everyone was packing to get to the hotel, Nicole decided to ask you herself if everything was okay. But predictably, again, you just said that you were fine. And the morning was so hectic that she didn’t really have the time to interrogate you.

Once you all got settled and to the track for media day, work mode took over, and you forgot all about the tension at the Piastri family home. Though you quite literally were paid to follow Oscar around all day, you felt more like the paparazzi than his friend, hardly ever speaking to him.

And as you went back to the hotel room alone to edit and post for tonight, you felt like a stranger in your own body.

You didn’t want to do this anymore. You missed your friend, but more importantly, you missed being yourself.

But what were you supposed to do? You loved Oscar. Oscar loved Lily. Lily hated you.

You were stuck between three impossible choices: stick around and be forced to subdue yourself into a shell of your true personality until Lily decided she wasn’t upset at you anymore, lose everything you’d ever built by quitting and moving away like you knew she wanted, or continue being yourself and possibly cost Oscar the love of his life.

Yeah, this was a wonderful predicament you found yourself in, through no fault of your own.

You moved like a zombie through the free practices and qualifying. When it was finally time for the grand prix, you assumed your usual place in the McLaren garage, for work if nothing else.

But then, Oscar won.

No team rules. No convoluted strategies. Just Oscar doing what he did best.

You couldn’t hear your own thoughts over the shout of the garage and the crowd in the distance, cheering out for their hometown hero. You ran out with everyone to the barricades to greet your best friend.

Though he still had his helmet on, you could see the effects of his smile in his squinted eyes. He pumped his fist in the air, cheering to himself before running to the barricades to jump into the waiting arms of the crowd. You cheered with them, overwhelmed with pride.

Oscar locked eyes with you, cupping your face with his gloved hands and pressing the top of his helmet to your forehead. “I did it, YN!”

“You did!” you yelled, smiling ear to ear.

Of course, people took photos. Photos that Oscar posted later that night.

Lily didn’t like it—the sweet intimacy of the moment, front and center on Oscar’s Instagram page. Why would you post that? It was like you were taunting her.

Lily sat on the edge of the hotel bed while Oscar showered, both of them preparing to meet you, Lando, and a few McLaren team members to celebrate his win.

When Oscar emerged from the bathroom, Lily asked him, “Osc, can you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” he murmured as he dried his hair.

“Can you take down that picture that YN posted?”

“YN posted something?” he questioned, grabbing his phone. As his social media manager, you had access to all his accounts, but occasionally he’d post something himself, too. “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

Lily pursed her lips. “The first picture from the post she made an hour ago.”

��Oh, this?” Oscar held up his phone. “I posted that.”

Lily was silent.

“Why do you want me to delete it? It’s a good photo.”

Lily just looked at him. Oscar sighed and archived the photo. “There, happy?”

His tone was much harsher than he intended, but to be honest, he was getting tired of the constant fighting, and his patience was wearing thin.

Lily kept quiet, just silently going into the bathroom to start doing her makeup.

In the lobby of the hotel an hour or so later, you awkwardly stood with Lando waiting for the couple to arrive. Once again you were torn—should you miss out on celebrating with your best friend on his first ever home win, or should you go and strain his relationship further?

You were just going to say screw it and go back up to your room when you saw Lily and Oscar walking towards you. Though there was no tension between them, there was no love either. They both just looked…tired.

Everyone had decided to keep it relaxed for tonight, just doing a nice group dinner with Oscar’s family. It was fine, albeit a tad awkward, because you were sitting between Lando and some McLaren employees you didn’t know, at the opposite end of the table from Lily, Oscar, and his family.

You knew this couldn’t continue forever. Something had to break. And it did, when you and Lando ended up back in Oscar and Lily’s room, drinking your way through a bottle of nice champagne.

The alcohol seemed to have calmed Lando’s nerves, as he was actually normal with you. And Oscar was a blushy, smiling mess and he and his teammate laughed at something you couldn’t remember.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the mood was ruined by Lily’s drunken slurring. “Oh my God, YN, just shut up! Go away!” she giggled and grabbed Oscar’s arm.

Usually, you were calm, letting any infraction roll off of you like waves on the beach. But the alcohol emboldened you.

“Lily, what the fuck is your problem with me?” you asked.

The mood shifted, and Lily gave you a look of disgust. “I was just joking, God.”

“No you weren’t.”

Lando chimed in. “Well, I think I gotta call it a night.” He got up and patted Oscar on the back. The two men stood up to walk out, leaving just you and Lily alone in the hotel room.

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is with me, but don’t act like there isn’t one. It’s obvious that you don’t want me around, I don’t know what I ever did to you.”

Lily had clearly been sobered up by your seriousness. Still, she burst into tears.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.”

You sighed, unable to keep your anger in the face of her cries. She continued, “I just… Oscar and I were each other’s first everything. First love, first kiss…first time. I love him so much.”

“I’m not trying to steal him from you.”

Lily was quiet, and so were you. Something she had said gave you pause.

They were each other’s first everything—no, that couldn’t be true.

Because you were Oscar’s first.

It had been many years—you were both 18—and you had never spoken about what happened. But you remembered.

He came back home for Christmas from the UK. It was before he had even met Lily.

You welcomed him home with an embrace—even with the frequent phone calls you had, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, now here before you, in the flesh.

Neither of you could sleep that night, and somehow you both found yourself in Oscar’s childhood bedroom, quiet in the early hours of the morning.

Though it was warm outside, Nicole had a habit of keeping the house frigid, so you and Oscar huddled together under the handmade quilt that decorated his bed. The moment was tender and quiet, together in the soft darkness.

“Do you like it in the UK?” you asked him, your question searching for a genuine answer.

“It’s okay, I guess. It’s what I have to do for the races.”

“But do you ever get…lonely?”

He paused. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

You traced small circles on the skin of your leg. The closeness of the moment was uncomfortable.

“But you have friends, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re not, y’know, friends for life.”

“I get you.” You really did, not having many friends of your own since Oscar left. “But you must have a ton of girls, though. They all want the cool race car driver.” You smiled, trying to use your humor to lighten the intimacy of the moment.

“No,” was all he answered. “And if I had a girlfriend, you’d be the first to know, anyway.” In the dark of the room, you could only see the outline of his features, but you could feel the pull of his eyes looking at you. “What, do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re bringing this up?” he asked.

“Of course I don’t.”

“What do you mean, of course?”

“I mean, why would I have a boyfriend? I have no friends and half the people at school think you don’t even exist.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Well, yeah, when I say my best friend drives race cars in the UK, most people think I’m making you up.”

“Shit,” he laughed.

“So, yeah, it doesn’t exactly get me dates,” you laughed. You felt your throat stiffen. “I haven’t even had my first kiss or anything.”

The silence in the room was thick. “I haven’t either,” Oscar confessed.

You found it hard to believe. Oscar was handsome, funny, everything a girl could want. Neither of you had ever been social butterflies, though.

Under the blanket, Oscar reached for your hand, placing it in his. Your heart was beating out of your chest; you had never even held a boy’s hand.

“We could just…do it now,” he said. “Just to get it over with.” He feigned his usual nonchalance, but you could feel the increase of his heartbeat and the ever so subtle tremble in his voice.

It would be easy for you to laugh it off like a joke. But you knew it wasn’t. And you wanted him.

“Okay,” you said, your voice breathy with nervousness.

You sat up on the bed, and saw the dark outline of his figure leaning towards you, gently tilting your head.

And when his lips met yours, it felt like home. Like everything in your entire life had left you up to this moment, here in the warmth of your best friend’s childhood bedroom.

The kiss lasted longer than you anticipated, but when he did pull away, it was too soon. You were grateful for the darkness that hid your expression. But even without the light, Oscar could see the truth behind your eyes.

“We could…keep going.”

“Okay,” you repeated.

One of his hands found your waist now, pulling you closer, as his other hand pushed back your hair that had fallen in your face.

Once again his lips met yours. It wasn’t like a spark within you—more like a calming, a sense of peace and safety. Of all the boys you’d crushed on before, Oscar was different. You trusted him with everything.

And you showed him so.

He slipped his tongue past your teeth, tentative, as if he was scared to do the wrong thing. But you let him close the gap, your own tongue gliding along his, goosebumps going down your back the closer you got.

He wanted to put his hands all over you, but he was nervous.

He pulled away. “I…don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t either. Is it actually your first time?”

“Yeah. You don’t mind me being your first?”

“I trust you.”

So you both took it slow, taking each other’s hands where you wanted to be touched, not focusing on anything but the other.

The love you made was quiet and simple, beautiful yet imperfect. But you didn’t need perfect. You just needed him.

The next morning, you slipped out of his room before anyone was awake, afraid of what would happen if they found out.

But no one ever did. Oscar never said a word about it ever again, and neither did you; after the holidays, he went back to school and met Lily, and the rest was history.

But you remembered. And as you sat in that hotel room years later waiting for him, you felt numb.

By the time he got back Lily had calmed down, but you couldn’t stand to be there anymore. You announced your departure, but Oscar decided to walk you out, too.

You closed the door behind you, but Oscar pulled you to not leave so quickly.

“Hey, is everything alright with you and Lily?”

“No. It’s not.”

He sighed. “I don’t know why she’s being like this.”

You just stared at him, your face blank.

“What,” he asked, “don’t tell me you’re mad too.”

“Was Lily your first?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

Oscar looked over his shoulder. “I’d really rather not talk about this in the hallway…”

“So do you want to go in the room and talk about it? In front of her? Because you lied to one of us. Which one was it?”

“YN, it’s—”

“Which one of us did you lie to, Oscar?”

He let out a sharp exhale, knowing there was no way to escape your line of questioning. He leaned down to whisper to you. “I didn’t lie to her. She just…assumed, and I never corrected her.”

“That’s still lying.”

“You really think I should go in there and tell her the truth?” His voice dripped with frustration.

“Yes. She deserves to know.”

“You know why I never told her? Because I knew this shit would happen, she’d get jealous and try to push you out of my life. If I tell her now, she’ll make me choose between the two of you.”

“Do you blame her?” you asked, astounded at how Oscar could be so clueless.

“Seriously?” he retorted. “You think she’s justified in doing all this to you? The entire reason she’s mad is because she knows if she tries to make me choose, I’m not choosing her.”

“Don’t say that! Oscar, she’s your girlfriend. You should love her.”

“I do. But things just…aren’t the same anymore. It’s like she wants me to change my whole life for her. I can’t do that.”

Unbeknownst to you, Lily got up from the bed and walked to the door, pressing her ear to it, where she could faintly hear you and Oscar arguing.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Oscar continued. “And if you don’t want her to split us up, just let me handle it.”

“Oscar, she deserves better than this. I’ve missed spending time with you, but… you’ve got to tell her the truth.”

Lily opened the door. “I knew it,” she said, her eyes full of tears. “I knew you were cheating.”

Your eyes were wide as dinner plates as Oscar cursed to himself. “Lily, I swear to God that is not what happened—”

“Don’t. Don’t even try,” she said, but Oscar pushed his way back into the room anyway. He looked back to you, and even without words, you knew it was time to go. You needed some sleep.

Unfortunately, Oscar would not be getting any sleep tonight.

“Oscar, just stop lying to me! I’m tired of this!’ Lily cried, curling her legs to her chest as she sat on the bed.

“Lily, I swear, I have never cheated on you. What YN and I were talking about was something from a long time ago.”

“We’ve been together for five years!”

“Can I just explain myself? Please?”

Lily just broke down in sobs. “Do whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

Oscar sighed. “Look, I…I have lied to you. You weren’t my first. YN was.” He looked at his girlfriend, who was still just silently crying. “It was before we even met, and it was just once, and we’ve never done anything since. I would never cheat on you, I love you and—”

“When and where was it?” Lily asked, cutting him off with her statement more like a command than a question.

“The December before we met, when I came home for Christmas.”

“In your bed?”

He nodded.

“Oscar, I slept in that bed next to you the other night.”

He said nothing.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Haven’t I been good to you?”

“Lily, I promise, I love you more than anything.”

“Then why would you lie to me for five years?”

Oscar took a deep breath and said, “Because I was afraid you would be upset. People don’t understand that me and YN are just friends. I mean, we were raised together, she’s like my sister.”

“You had sex with her. You took each other’s virginity.”

“It wasn’t…like that.”

“How can it not be like that? Do you even hear what you’re saying?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

About an hour after you left, you heard a knock on your hotel room door, and you answered. It was, of course, Lily.

“Tell me whatever Oscar wouldn’t,” she said. Her eyes were still puffy and red.

You welcomed her in, beginning to tell her the entire truth. “Oscar and I had sex when we were 18, before he met you. We never talked about it afterwards. After you met I didn’t want to bring it up, I just assumed he’d do the right thing and tell you. I didn’t want to pry into your relationship.”

So, your stories matched. And Lily knew that you were nothing if not honest.

“Do you love him?”

“Of course I do, he’s my best friend.”

“No, I mean, are you in love with him?��

You didn’t answer immediately. What were you supposed to say?

Tears fought their way to the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I don’t know,” you began, but that was a lie, you did know. “I guess…I have a special type of love for him. We grew up together. When we were younger, yes, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But then he met you, and… Lily, he was so happy! I just…I realized that I wanted him to be happy more than I wanted him to be mine. So I made peace with the fact that this is how it had to be.”

Lily was overwhelmed with your honesty, in the face of so much deception.

You continued, “I don’t blame you for being upset at me. Oscar should have been honest about what our friendship was like from the very beginning instead of lying to you. But I swear, we haven’t done anything while you all have been together. I’ve been cheated on and I know how much that hurts, I would never do that to anyone else. I’m so sorry it ended up like this.”

“No,” Lily said, “You’re the only one who’s been honest with me throughout all of this. Thank you.”

After that, you hadn’t heard from Oscar after that for a long time. Or, at least, a few weeks felt like a long time to you. But you had other pressing matters—your workload was through the roof with Oscar’s wins. Lando had snatched himself a win too, setting up an early battle for the championship. It was too early into the season to call it, but you knew Oscar was feeling the pressure with the possibility of his first championship dangling so close in front of him. So you kept your distance, not wanting to be a distraction.

That was, until he called you, saying just those three painful words.

“Lily left me.”

The sun was cresting over the horizon, illuminating the thick glass of your balcony and flooding light into your living room. You hadn’t gotten an ounce of rest.

From your bedroom, you could hear Oscar snoring. You just let him sleep.

God knows you both needed it.

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loving-daisy · 2 days ago

Text

Soft Spot | Theodore Nott x Reader

loving-daisy masterlist

Words: 8.1k

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't believe in love, but no one quite has ever made him feel like his best friend's younger sister, Y/N Malfoy.

Warnings: mentioned death of a loved one

Inspired by the song Soft Spot by keshi

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Theodore Nott wasn’t the type to openly express his feelings, least of all to someone like her. Y/N was a Malfoy, after all, and despite their shared house and mutual acquaintances, there was an unspoken divide between them.

Theodore Nott and Y/N Malfoy had always known each other, and their families had been good friends for many years. Growing up, they were frequently dragged together at family gatherings, whether at Malfoy Manor or in the gardens of the Nott estate.

Theodore remembered her as a little girl, a bit shy but was always the first to stand up for what she believed in, always the first to make sure he wasn’t left out of games or conversations, and always the first to offer a hug when things weren’t going well. He especially remembered her as the one who rushed up to him the first time she saw him after his mother had died. It was the first time, after his mother, he had ever received a hug from anyone. And that stook to him.

But when they entered Hogwarts, everything changed. As Theodore and Draco were in the same year, they entered first, meaning it had been a few months before he got to see the young Malfoy again. They weren’t particularly close, no. So, they had no reason to keep up with each other’s business.

The following year, as the young Malfoy entered Hogwarts, Y/N, like Draco, seemed to easily settle into her role in the Slytherin House—charming, sharp-tongued, with a quiet confidence. She wasn’t like the little Y/N he had once known when they were younger. She felt different. Like a little flower waiting to blossom.

With Draco being a protective brother, the young Malfoy quickly became a part of Draco’s inner circle with him, Blaise, and Pansy.

Despite being in the same friend group for a couple of years, Theodore always felt that she was untouchable, in a way—too much of her family’s reputation clung to her for him to ever really consider her an equal. Not to mention that she was his best friend’s little sister.

Yet today… there was something different. As she moved down the hall, her gaze still hovering on him for just a heartbeat longer than necessary, Theodore couldn’t help but feel like there was more to Y/N than the icy, untouchable Malfoy name. Her smile was fleeting, but it made him question everything he had assumed about the youngest Malfoy.

“Are you going to stare at that book all day, Nott?” Her tone was teasing, light, but there was an underlying note of something more—something that hinted she had noticed his attention.

His heart skipped, and he quickly looked up, startled. "I… uh, wasn’t staring at the book," he said quickly, unsure how to respond.

Malfoy smirked, clearly entertained by his flustered response. “I’m sure,” she said with a raised eyebrow, her tone dipping into something more challenging.

“Anyways,” she started, “I heard you’re not coming to the Hogsmeade trip again. Why so?”

“I’m…uh…busy.”

The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Busy with what? Staring at another book?”

“I…”

Theodore heard the girl groan.

“Come on, Theo, don’t you want to spend some time with us? With me?” Y/N asked, her gaze on him lingering for a few beats.

Theodore's cheeks flushed, but he couldn't help but admire her boldness. It wasn't just that she had taken him off guard; it was also that she appeared so at ease with herself, so confident in her demeanor. She didn't need to prove anything to anybody, which was both frustrating and intriguing.

"I didn't know you wanted me to be there," he eventually mumbled, the words escaping before he could stop them. He quickly regretted it, although Y/N did not appear offended. Instead, she inclined her head, examining him briefly, her look softening somewhat.

"Well, of course, Theo," she said, her voice still light but with an edge that indicated she wasn't completely dismissive. "You are our friend after all."

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Theodore felt out of place as he walked through the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade, the air frigid and sharp against his skin. He'd spent the last few weeks avoiding this—and everyone. But something had changed. It was something about Y/N and how she approached and invited him to join. He had been reluctant, questioning if he was ready for the social engagement. But now, with the wind cutting his cheeks and the promise of Y/N's grin waiting for him, he was determined to overcome his second thoughts.

When he spotted the group outside the Three Broomsticks, the first thing that struck him was how normal they all looked, standing together, chatting and laughing as if nothing had changed.

Draco was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in his trademark pose, while Blaise stood nearby, looking far more interested in the weather than in the conversation. Pansy was standing just a little farther down, her laughter carrying in the cold air, and Y/N was beside her, looking effortlessly calm, her eyes scanning the crowd.

As Theodore drew closer, Draco was the first to notice him. He straightened up and blinked in surprise. “Nott? You’re actually here?”

Theodore smiled a little awkwardly and nodded. “Yeah. Thought I’d join you lot for once.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but there was no mocking in his voice. “You’ve been a bit of a ghost lately. Didn’t think you’d show up.”

Theodore shrugged, trying to downplay his nerves. “Guess I just needed a change. Why not join the fun for once?”

Blaise, who had been watching the exchange silently, finally spoke up. “Well, well. The reclusive Theodore Nott emerges from the shadows.” His tone was teasing, but there was no real judgment behind it. Blaise knew Theodore well enough to tell when something was up.

Theodore chuckled but his gaze shifted to the young Malfoy, and his heart skipped a beat.

She looked at him with a warm stare as if she wasn't surprised to find him here. Something about how she looked made him feel like he belonged, as if his hesitancy and distance had been rewarded only for this moment.

The girl smiled, her lips curving gently as she stepped toward him. “I’m glad you came,” she said, her voice quieter than the others, but her words carried a warmth that sent a shiver through him. “We’ve missed you.”

Theodore swallowed, feeling a little embarrassed by how his chest tightened at her words. “I’ve missed you all too,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft as he gently looked at the young Malfoy. He realized then that he hadn’t been missing just the group but the feeling of belonging with them—of being able to be himself without pretending.

Pansy, ever observant, smirked at the exchange, her sharp eyes catching the subtle way they looked at each other. “Interesting. Finally dragged him out of his cave, Malfoy?”

The girl rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. “Not everything’s a game, Pansy.”

“Clearly,” Pansy teased, but her voice was light, playful.

Draco, still standing nearby, was watching Theodore closely. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe—but he didn’t comment further. Instead, he clapped Theodore on the back, more out of habit than anything else. “Well, now that you’re here, don’t expect to be left out of anything. Let’s get inside and warm up.”

Theodore trailed behind Y/N as they entered the Three Broomsticks, embracing the comfort of the fire as soon as he did so.

He looked around at the busy pub, but his focus kept returning to her. She was standing next to him, close enough that he could feel the soft brush of her sleeve against his arm.

Theodore was unsure what had changed. He had no idea how things had changed so quickly, but now they were together, surrounded by friends, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.

As they settled at a table, the usual banter started up again. Draco and Blaise were arguing about something trivial, Pansy was making her usual sarcastic comments, and Y/N was laughing quietly at it all.

But Theodore found himself watching her, how she smiled, and her eyes sparkled when she laughed. There was something so easy and effortless about her presence, something that made him feel at home.

At that moment, he realized that showing up today was the right choice. He wasn’t just there for fun; he was there because he wanted to be. And more importantly, he wanted to be there with her.

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Theodore found himself sitting alone at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, pushing his food around without really eating. His mind is elsewhere, and his usually calm demeanor has shifted to a kind of quiet detachment. He looks pale, his eyes a little duller than usual, as though he’s carrying a heavy weight no one else can see.

Y/N, seated at the opposite end of the table, can't help but notice. She studies him for a minute, sensing something is wrong but unsure how to approach him.

After a while, she stands up and walks over to Theodore’s side of the table, slipping into the seat next to him. He doesn’t look up at her immediately, but she can feel the tension from him.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice gentle but firm, not wanting to startle him. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”

Theodore flinches slightly as if her voice pulled him out of some distant thought. He forces a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not really hungry,” he mutters, his tone clipped and almost dismissive.

The girl studies him closely, catching the way his fingers are gripping the edge of his plate tightly, his knuckles slightly white. She knows Theodore well enough to recognize the signs. There’s something deeper going on—something more personal than just not feeling hungry.

“It’s okay to not be okay, you know,” The girl says quietly, her voice low so only he can hear. She leans in slightly, trying to make him feel comfortable. “You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine.”

Theodore shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze dropping to his hands. His heart is heavy, and the grief of losing his mother years ago still stings in ways he doesn’t often let himself feel. It’s the anniversary of her death, and he’s been trying to keep himself busy, to bury the sadness deep within him.

He’s unsure how to express this grief, especially not to anyone at Hogwarts—especially not to Y/N Malfoy, who always seems so put together.

“I’m fine,” he says quickly, but his voice wavers slightly. It’s a lie, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to admit it. Not here, not now.

Y/N doesn’t push, but she doesn’t back off either. She knows when to give someone space and when to offer comfort gently.

She watches him for a moment longer, then says softly, “You don’t have to hide it, Theodore. You don’t need to be the strong, silent type all the time.”

Theodore feels a pang in his chest at her words, their raw vulnerability cutting through his carefully constructed walls. He’s always been the quiet one, the one who keeps his emotions buried. But Y/N sees right through him, making him feel exposed, almost too fragile.

“I don’t… want to burden anyone,” he admits quietly, his voice low. “I don’t want anyone to see… how much it still hurts.”

Y/N’s heart softens at his words, and she reaches out gently, placing her hand over his on the table. The gesture is simple but sincere, an unspoken offer of support. “You’re not burdening me,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own, you know. You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Theodore tenses at the touch, but there’s no bitterness in it. He doesn’t pull away, but the vulnerability is too much to handle all at once. He takes a deep breath as if trying to steady himself, but his chest tightens. “It’s… hard. I don’t know how to talk about it.”

The girl squeezes his hand, her touch reassuring and firm. “I’m not asking you to talk about it if you don’t want to. But you can share what you feel whenever you’re ready.”

Theodore looks up at her, then meets her gaze for the first time since she has sat down. Her eyes are warm and understanding, and she expresses quiet support. She doesn’t expect anything from him, making the moment feel safe.

His heart beats a little faster as he realizes that Y/N isn't judging him despite how difficult this moment is. She’s offering him the space to simply be.

“I don’t know how to do this…” he murmurs, his voice trembling slightly. “I don’t know how to let people in like that.”

The girl gives him a small, understanding smile. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. But I’m here for you, Theodore. Whenever you’re ready.”

For a long moment, Theodore doesn’t speak. He just sits there, feeling the weight of his grief, the warmth of her hand still over his. It’s comforting, in a way he doesn’t fully understand yet. Slowly, the tightness in his chest begins to ease, though it doesn’t go away entirely. For the first time, he doesn’t feel like he has to bury everything deep down. He doesn’t have to hide.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/N simply nods, her hand still resting over his, offering the quiet reassurance that she’ll be there for him, no matter how much he chooses to share.

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Theodore, once withdrawn and shy, now spends almost every free moment with Y/N. Maybe even more than he spends time with Draco and Blaise.

They study together, talk about their dreams and worries, and share moments of quiet companionship. There are still times when Theodore retreats into himself, but Y/N has learned to recognize the signs. She gives him the space he needs without pushing, and when he’s ready to talk, she’s there.

Theodore leans back into the couch, his feet resting on the edge of a table, hands folded across his chest. His posture is relaxed, no longer the stiff, withdrawn figure he used to be when he first arrived at Hogwarts. Sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her, Y/N smiles as they talk about everything and nothing at all.

“You know,” The girl says, grinning mischievously, “I’ve never understood why you’re so good at Potions, but I can never get a single spell right without accidentally turning something into a pile of mush.”

Theodore laughs quietly, the sound surprisingly light. “It’s all about concentration,” he says, voice teasing but warm. “You need to focus. You’re too easily distracted.”

The girl raises an eyebrow. “Says the guy who once spilled an entire cauldron of Veritaserum because he got distracted by a book.”

Theodore chuckles at the memory, shaking his head. “I didn’t spill it because I was distracted! I just... didn’t realize the book had melted into the cauldron.”

Y/N laughs, and it’s a full, genuine laugh that fills the room. Moments like this make Theodore realize how much his friendship with her has changed him. She’s never judged him for his quirks or awkwardness; she’s simply accepted him for who he is, even if he’s sometimes a little scatterbrained.

“It’s honestly refreshing,” Y/N continues, “having a best friend who can make me laugh. You’ve got a dry sense of humor, but it works.”

Theodore smiles, but there's something more in his gaze—a soft affection. “I’m glad you think so.”

He glanced over at her. “You know, for someone who’s always so guarded, you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”

She scoffed, but there was no bite in it. “You think so?”

He nodded, his smile faltering slightly. “Yeah. You get me, Malfoy. It’s… not something I’m used to.”

She glanced up at him. “I get you?”

Theodore’s usual air of cool detachment was replaced by something softer, something almost vulnerable. “Yeah. You do. And I get you, too. It’s…” He faltered as though struggling to find the right words. “It’s easy with you.”

“I don’t think I could have gotten through everything without you,” Theodore says, his voice quieter, more serious. “You’ve been there for me when I needed someone the most, even when you didn’t know how to help. You always know exactly when to just... listen. Or sit in silence with me.”

“I’m glad,” she said quietly, her voice soft.

They continued sitting in comfortable silence, the weight of their conversation hanging between them. There’s a brief pause, a shared understanding between them. They don’t need to say much more.

She wasn’t just the friend he had relied on for the past few months—she was the person who made him feel seen, understood, and… well, maybe more than just a friend. Theodore wasn’t sure yet.

The silence between the two friends was broken when Pansy saunters into the Slytherin dungeons, her sharp eyes darting between Y/N and Theodore as she took her place across them together with Blaise.

"So, when's the big confession happening, hmm?" She teased.

The young Malfoy laughed at her friend’s antics.

"What?" Theodore asks.

Pansy rolled her eyes at the response. "Come on, you two. We’ve all noticed it. You’re practically joined at the hip these days."

"Oh, please, Pansy. It’s just friendship." Y/N tried to convince.

"Sure, just friendship. You two have spent nearly every waking moment together for the past year. It's definitely just friendship."

Theodore and Y/N exchange a glance, both slightly flushed but unwilling to admit anything.

Their friendship has always been easy, natural, but lately, there's been something more—something neither of them has quite figured out yet. The teasing from their friends only makes them more aware of it, but neither is quite ready to confront the possibility that it might be more than just friendship.

"Honestly, you two are impossible," Blaise muttered.

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Theodore’s chest tightened as he watched the stranger lean in toward Y/N, his hand brushing her arm casually as he spoke. She laughed, the sound soft and familiar, but the sight of her so at ease with someone else sent a wave of jealousy surging through Theodore’s veins.

He turned away sharply, gripping the bar's edge until his knuckles turned white.

This wasn’t fair.

Y/N had every right to talk to whomever she wanted. She wasn’t his. She’d never been his. And yet, the idea of someone else taking his place in her life was unbearable.

“Someone looks like they’re about to explode,” Pansy drawled as she slid beside him, putting on her gloves. “What’s the matter, Nott? Can’t stand the competition?”

“Not now, Pansy,” he muttered, not even glancing her way.

She smirked, clearly delighted by his discomfort. “You know, Nott, for someone so clever, you’re absolutely hopeless. Honestly, how many more boys asking her out, will it take before you admit you like her?”

Theodore’s jaw tightened. “I’m not—I don’t believe in love.”

It's true.

Theodore didn’t believe in love.

He didn’t believe in feelings, in general.

Growing up without the presence of his mother, Theodore’s father needed to emphasize and demand that love doesn’t exist. And this was proven true when his own father didn’t even show up to his mother’s funeral.

“Save it,” she interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “We all see it. You’ve been pining for months. The only person who doesn’t know is Y/N herself. Or maybe…you’re the only one unaware of it.”

His silence was answer enough.

Pansy leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You know, if you keep standing here brooding like some tragic hero, you’re going to lose her. Maybe it’s time you did something about it.”

Theodore’s eyes flicked toward the Malfoy girl again. She was still talking to the stranger, her smile easy and genuine. He hated how natural they looked together as if there was no room for him in her world anymore.

“Do something like what?” he asked bitterly. “Interrupt their conversation and declare my undying love? That’ll go over well.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless. But fine, keep sulking. Just don’t be surprised when someone else sweeps her off her feet while you’re busy hiding in the shadows.”

With that, she slipped away, catching sight of Blaise as they headed together to meet Draco, leaving Theodore alone with his thoughts as he stared at the young Malfoy.

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The evening at the Three Broomsticks was winding down, and the company was unwinding after a few rounds of butterbeer. The warmth of the fire and the murmur of laughter filled the room, but as the clock struck later in the evening, the talk inevitably moved on to the approaching Yule Ball.

Draco, who had been taking in his drink as he listened to Pansy discuss prospective clothing options, smirked at Blaise. "So, are you intending to attend the Yule Ball this year, or are you avoiding it for some other strange reason, like you did last year?"

Blaise rolled his eyes but didn't appear offended. "I am going, of course. I have a few possibilities. Not all of us have to scurry for a date like some people." He gave Draco a playful look, who shrugged unconcernedly.

"Right," Draco murmured, turning his attention to Theodore sitting next to his sister. "What about you, Theodore? Have you planned a date for the ball, or will you sit this one out as usual?"

“I don’t plan on going,” Theodore said, his voice casual. “It’s not really my thing. Besides, I don’t have the energy to pretend to enjoy that sort of thing.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You really are a buzzkill, aren’t you? It’s one night, Theo. A chance to get dressed up and show off a little. You could at least think about it.” He glanced at his sister momentarily as if daring her to chime in.

Before Theodore could respond, he noticed Y/N, who had been quietly watching the conversation unfold, was now looking at him with a faint frown.

“What about you, little Malfoy?” Blaise asked, turning his attention to her. “You planning on going?”

The girl nodded. “I am, actually,” she said lightly, glancing at Theodore. “But Theo,” she added, her voice soft but firm, “you should reconsider. You should go. It’s your last chance to have fun, enjoy the music, and dance. You can’t just skip it because it’s ‘not your thing.’”

Theodore, who had been about to protest, looked at her. Her eyes were serious, and a kindness in her expression made something shift inside him.

He’d never thought about the Yule Ball as something he could enjoy, but Y/N was looking at him as if it was necessary as if it was important for him to go.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he replied, his voice quieter. “It’s just not my scene. You know how I am with those things.”

“I do,” She said, her voice softening. She leaned a little closer, her hand brushing against his on the table. “But this isn’t just about going to a ball. It’s about having fun with your friends. You don’t have to have everything figured out or be the life of the party. Just go for the night. You don’t want to regret it later.”

Her words were sincere, and for a moment, Theodore felt something warm in his chest. How she looked at him, almost as if she could see through all the walls he’d built up around himself, made him reconsider.

“Come on, Theo,” Draco chimed in with a smirk. “You can’t possibly say no after Y/N’s given her stamp of approval. It’s practically an order.”

Blaise added, “You might actually have fun, you know. And who knows? Maybe someone will ask you to dance.”

Theodore snorted, though it was more out of surprise at the direction the conversation had taken than anything else. “You think I’d get asked to dance?” he said, his tone a little more teasing than usual, but his voice had a hint of self-consciousness.

“Of course,” Y/N said with a playful grin, her hand lightly resting on his. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as a dance partner.”

Her words were simple, but they made his heart race.

He didn’t know why, but hearing her say that made the idea of the ball seem less like a burden and more like something he might actually enjoy—especially if she was going to be there.

“Alright, fine,” he finally relented, glancing at the young Malfoy. “I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising I’ll enjoy it.”

“You will,” she said, her smile lighting up her face. “Trust me.”

There was a small pause as the group resumed chatting, but Theodore’s mind was no longer on the conversation. Instead, he found himself thinking about the Yule Ball in a new light.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it could even be fun.

And, if nothing else, he’d get to spend the evening with Y/N and the rest of his friends.

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and for the first time, he understood. She wasn’t asking him to transform into someone he wasn’t. She wasn’t asking him to be the life of the party or to pretend to enjoy every aspect of the night. She was just asking him to show up. To be there with the people who mattered, to make memories that, for once, didn’t revolve around his usual reluctance to engage in things like this.

For a moment, Theodore just stared at her, the warmth of the lights flickering in her eyes. He felt that familiar tug in his chest, that sensation of something more than just friendship. But he didn’t let it show, not yet. He wasn’t ready for that conversation.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

The girl smiled and shook her head. “Nope. You’re going to the ball, Theo. And you’re going to have a good time. We’ll make sure of it.”

He sighed, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But only because you said so.”

Y/N grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I knew you’d come around.”

Blaise coughed. “Softie.” He muttered, shaking his head.

“Shut up, Blaise.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but as the snow continued to fall outside, he realized that this might just be the start of something unexpected—something he wasn’t ready to let go of just yet.

Y/N had a way of making everything seem possible, and for the first time in a long while, Theodore was starting to believe it.

Blaise wasn’t wrong, though. Theodore might have had a soft spot for the young Malfoy.

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The Yule Ball was well underway, with the Great Hall sparkling beneath a canopy of floating golden stars, their gentle light reflecting off the magical ice sculptures dispersed across the hall. Students at Hogwarts moved in bunches.

The anticipation was apparent as rich, colorful dresses whirled beneath the dazzling floating candle lights. The air was filled with a subtle buzz of music, the delicate sounds of the orchestra flowing over the room, and laughing that seemed to come from everyone.

Y/N Malfoy stood near the entrance, her figure effortlessly poised in a gown of silver silk that shimmered with each movement. The dress hugged her form perfectly, a subtle tribute to her aristocratic lineage, but the soft drape of the fabric gave her an almost ethereal quality, as though she were more a figure from a painting than a living person. Her hair was styled in an elegant updo, small curls framing her face, as her eyes scanned the room.

Theodore Nott lingered near the refreshment table, quietly observing the swirling crowd. Unlike his peers, he didn’t seek the spotlight. His tailored black robes were simple but elegant. In usual Theodore fashion, the boy preferred the edges of the room, where he could avoid unnecessary chatter and instead focus on the rhythm of the night.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” The girl teased as she approached him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“Not anywhere,” Theodore replied, his voice calm and steady. “Just somewhere quieter.”

He tilted his head slightly. “And you? Surely, the Malfoy princess enjoys a night like this.”

The girl hummed in response, shrugging nonchalantly.

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Theodore continued to stand off to the side throughout the Yule Ball, his eyes drifting over the swirling crowd. The music was loud, the flickering candles cast a warm glow across the room, and the students' laughter filled the air. But in the middle of it all, his gaze was fixed on one person-Y/N.

Blaise tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning the crowd with a bored yet calculating air. “You’ve been staring at her all night, Theo,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough to avoid prying ears.

Theodore didn’t look away from where Y/N Malfoy stood, laughing lightly at Pansy's judging words directed towards Harry Potter and his unfortunate date. The girl's smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she exchanged playful banter with Pansy.

Theodore felt his chest tighten as he watched her, unable to look away. The way she laughed and how her eyes lit up when she was genuinely happy. It was all so mesmerizing.

With a jolt, he realized that he hadn't just noticed how beautiful she was; he had fallen for it.

For her.

“I have not,” Theodore replied evenly, though his tone lacked conviction.

Blaise chuckled, taking a leisurely sip from his goblet. “Right. You’re just monitoring the general well-being of the crowd. Completely selfless of you.”

Theodore finally tore his gaze away, fixing Blaise with a sharp look. “What do you want me to say?”

Blaise raised a brow, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like, ‘Y/N looks stunning tonight, and it’s driving me mad watching her spend time with someone else.’”

Theodore frowned, his grip tightening on his goblet. “She does look stunning,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a rare softness.

“Understatement of the century,” Blaise said, smirking. “Every bloke in this room has noticed, but she hasn’t noticed any of them.”

Theodore’s frown deepened. “What are you getting at, Zabini?”

Blaise sighed dramatically as though speaking to a particularly dense child. “I’m saying, Nott, that she hasn’t noticed them because she’s too busy noticing you. And instead of doing something about it, you’re standing here sulking into your drink.”

Theodore looked at him sharply, but Blaise remained unfazed, his smirk unwavering.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Theodore muttered.

“Ridiculous? Hardly.” Blaise gestured toward the Malfoy girl with his goblet. “She’s barely looked at any other boy all night. But every time she glances over here—and she has, by the way—you’re too busy brooding to notice. Not to mention how she literally turned down every boy that asked her to dance.”

Theodore glanced back at Y/N, his jaw tightening.

“She’s just…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“Perfect?” Blaise supplied. “Unattainable? Completely and utterly worth it?”

She’s a dream.

“She’s Draco’s little sister.” Theodore shot him a withering look. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Immensely,” Blaise said with a grin. “But don’t let that stop you. I’m certain our friend would be cool about it. Go on, lover boy. Do something about it before her date gets it into his head to try to get it on with her even after beyond this night.”

For a moment, Theodore didn’t move, his mind racing. Then, without a word, he set his goblet down and stepped away from Blaise.

“Finally,” Blaise muttered, shaking his head in amused disbelief as he watched Theodore cross the room.

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The music in the Great Hall slowed, shifting to a softer, more intimate melody. Couples on the dance floor moved closer, their steps in perfect harmony with the hauntingly beautiful tune. Y/N had been content lingering in the shadows of the grand room, nursing a goblet of punch when Theodore approached her.

He stood with his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored robes, his sharp features softened by the warm candlelight.

“You’ve avoided every dance invitation tonight,” he said, his tone dry but not unkind.

The girl raised an eyebrow. “And yet here you are, about to offer one.”

“Only because I suspect you’ll say yes.” He extended a hand, his expression unreadable but his voice carrying the faintest hint of a challenge mixed with nervousness.

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. But then she placed her hand in his. “Let’s see if you can keep up, Nott.”

Theodore led her to the dance floor, his movements confident but unshowy. The girl followed his lead, their steps falling effortlessly into sync.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” she remarked, glancing up at him.

He smirked. “Surprisingly?”

“Well, you don’t exactly strike me as the waltzing type.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” Theodore replied, his tone low but playful. “I hate to dance, but I’d dance with you.”

He’s never been one for dancing—especially not in front of a crowd—but there’s something about how she looks tonight, something that makes him want to hold onto her forever and show her off to the world as his.

The two swayed to the rhythm, the world around them fading into a blur of swirling gowns and glittering lights. Theodore can’t help but notice how effortless it is to be with her. His nerves, which were there when they first started, slowly fade as he focuses on Y/N. Her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes sparkle with joy—it’s all so captivating.

Y/N glanced up at him. For a moment, the world around them—the glittering lights, the watchful eyes—faded.

"You know, for someone who didn’t want to come to the ball, you seem pretty content dancing here with me."

Theodore glances at her, a small, awkward smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He’s not one for grand events, but Y/N being here beside him makes the entire night feel less daunting. He feels out of place, but the world feels a little smaller in her presence. "It’s... not so bad. Besides, it’s not like I had a better option than being with you. You’re the most stunning person in this room."

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at his words. She’s always known there was something deeper between them, something more than friendship, but hearing him admit it in his quiet, reserved way fills her with warmth.

“You’re full of surprises, Nott. I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly.

Theodore looks down at her, his heart skipping a beat.

He’s not used to compliments or to feeling this seen by someone. There’s a warmth in her voice that he can’t ignore, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away.

They continued to dance, and the silence between them was comfortable now. It wasn’t until the music ended that Theodore played with the idea that maybe love does exist, especially with how Y/N Malfoy was making him feel right now.

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As the music faded, Y/N and Theodore stepped off the dance floor, their steps slowing in unison. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, still feeling the faint adrenaline buzz from the waltz.

Draco strolled over, his expression unreadable at first but softening when he saw the two of them. He was dressed impeccably, as usual, his posture relaxed and confident.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Draco drawled, his lips curving into a slight grin. “You, dancing, Y/N?”

The girl rolled her eyes—this time deliberately—and crossed her arms. “Always so supportive, aren’t you, Draco?”

“Supportive, sure. But mostly curious.” He turned to Theodore with mock seriousness. “What’s your secret? She never agrees to dance with me.”

Theodore shrugged casually. “I have my ways.”

“Must be the brooding charm,” The girl quipped, earning a chuckle from both boys.

Draco smirked. “Brooding? You give him too much credit. He’s been brooding since we were eleven—it’s nothing new.”

“And you’ve been insufferable since we were five,” Theodore shot back smoothly.

“Touché,” Draco conceded, clearly amused.

The playful banter flowed easily between the three of them, the formalities of the ball forgotten. The girl leaned back against one of the stone pillars, letting the moment's warmth wash over her.

“So,” Draco said after a pause, looking between them with a raised eyebrow, “should I be concerned about this little partnership?”

Y/N rolled her eyes again, this time with a smirk. “You act like it's the first time seeing me and Theo together. And Please. Like I’d need your approval for anything.”

Theodore gave her an approving nod. “Now, that’s the Malfoy spirit.”

Draco held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. Just don’t forget who your favorite brother is.”

“You’re my only brother,” She deadpanned.

“Exactly.” Draco grinned before clapping Theodore on the shoulder. “Keep her out of trouble, yeah?”

Theodore smirked. “No promises.”

“I need another drink.” The young Malfoy declared, pushing off the pillar and brushing past them both. “You coming, Theo?”

“I’ll meet you there.” He replied.

“Well, well, Nott,” Draco’s voice cut through the music and chatter like a knife, smooth and mocking. “Look at you. I thought you were planning on hiding away all night.”

Theodore narrowed his eyes at Draco but couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at his lips.

Draco’s smirk widened, and with a dramatic flair, he stepped closer, leaning in as though to whisper a secret. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you would be the one to sweep her off her feet, but—” He paused, giving Theodore a quick, mischievous look. “—now I’m curious. What exactly are your intentions with her, Nott?”

“My intentions are none of your business, Malfoy,” he said firmly, trying to keep his voice steady, though there was a faint warning tone underneath.

Draco’s smirk only grew, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Just remember, Nott… if you hurt her, there will be consequences.”

It wasn’t said in a threatening tone, but something in Draco’s eyes—a glint of seriousness beneath the teasing mask—made Theodore freeze.

Draco was always fiercely protective of the people he cared about, and Y/N, as his sister, was no exception.

Theodore raised an eyebrow, meeting Draco’s gaze squarely. “You’re really going to try to intimidate me over Y/N, of all people?” He tried to stay composed.

Draco chuckled, straightening up and folding his arms. “I’m just making sure you know the stakes, mate,” he said nonchalantly, though his eyes glimmered with a challenge. “You can be as charming as you like, but don’t forget who you’re dealing with.”

Theodore fought back a smile. “You always take things so seriously, Draco.”

Draco shrugged casually, but the glint in his eyes never faded. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

Before Theodore could respond, Draco gave him a quick, knowing glance and clapped him on the shoulder with an exaggerated show of camaraderie. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you to your… affairs with my sister. Just don’t mess it up, all right?”

Theodore stared after Draco as he moved through the crowd, the playful tension still hanging in the air. His heart was still pounding slightly from the exchange.

Draco might have been joking, but his words also revealed truth. Theodore wasn’t sure how to navigate the complex feelings he had for Y/N—especially now, when it seemed like the whole world, Draco included, had an opinion on the matter.

Still, a small part of him couldn’t help but feel a little more determined. He wouldn’t let Draco’s teasing—or anyone else’s—stand in the way of what he and Y/N were building together.

As the music swelled and couples swirled around him, Theodore glanced over at Y/N from across the room. She was talking to Pansy again, her expression bright.

He wasn’t going to mess this up, not with her.

With a final glance at Draco, who was now lost in conversation with Blaise, Theodore squared his shoulders and approached Y/N.

He wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stop him from finally going after what he wanted.

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The Yule Ball had faded into the background as Theodore and Y/N found themselves alone in a quiet, secluded room. The soft crackle of the fire filled the silence as Y/N sat across from him, her expression calm, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. The kind that made everything feel more intense, more real.

Theodore’s fingers brushed against the edge of his glass, his thoughts a whirlwind. He hadn’t planned for this. He hadn’t expected to say anything at all, but now, in the quiet room, with Y/N’s gaze steady, the words that had been stuck inside him for so long seemed to burst free, unavoidable.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat, trying to steady himself. “I… I need to say something.”

The girl looked at him, her brow furrowing slightly, her curiosity piqued. “What’s on your mind?”

Theodore swallowed hard, his chest tight. This was harder than anything he had ever done, but it felt like it would eat him up from the inside if he didn't say it now.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it. Trying to tell myself that it’s not a big deal,” he confessed, looking down at his hands for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “But I can’t anymore. I’ve… I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. Theodore held his breath, waiting for her reaction. His stomach twisted with uncertainty.

What if she didn’t feel the same?

What if he had ruined everything?

The girl didn’t say anything at first. She just watched him, her expression unreadable. Her eyes were soft, though, and her lips parted as if she were about to speak but held back.

Theodore’s heart beat wildly, and his palms suddenly clammy.

“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N,” he rushed to add, his voice shaky. “I just… I needed you to know. I didn’t want to keep it hidden anymore.”

The girl’s gaze softened even more, and she took a small step toward him, closing the distance between them. The firelight reflected in her eyes, making them look even brighter.

Then, finally, she spoke, her voice low and steady.

“Theo,” she said softly, his name like a gentle caress. “I’ve known. I’ve known for a long time.”

Theodore froze, his breath catching in his throat. “What?”

Y/N smiled faintly, a kind of tenderness in her expression that made his heart ache in the best way. “I’ve known. I think I’ve always known. I just… didn’t want to rush you. I wanted you to figure it out in your own time.”

Theodore’s mind raced, processing her words.

She knew? She had known all along?

It was almost too much to take in, but simultaneously, it was like the weight in his chest lifted a little. She hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t turned him down.

“So… you…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words. “You feel the same?”

The young Malfoy nodded, her smile softening into something more knowing. “I do. I’ve felt the same way for a while now.”

Relief flooded through Theodore, overwhelming him in the best way possible. He couldn’t help but smile back, the tension in his body melting away. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy, this… perfect.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he admitted, his voice a little more relaxed now, the uncertainty slowly fading. “I’ve never been good at this. Saying how I feel.”

“I know,” The girl said, her voice full of understanding. “But you don’t have to be perfect, Theo. You just need to be you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Theodore chuckled softly, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “I’m not sure I can be anything else.”

She reached out then, her fingers brushing against his, sending a jolt of warmth through him.

He looked at her, his heart pounding again, but this time in excitement rather than fear.

“You don’t have to,” Y/N whispered, leaning closer, her gaze never leaving his. “You’re exactly what I want.”

Without a word, he closed the gap between them, his hands reaching for her, pulling her into him. Her lips met his with a sudden urgency, a kiss that was more than just an exploration. It was a release, a culmination of everything that had been building between them for so long.

Y/N’s hands moved to his chest, fingers trembling against the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, her lips parting slightly, deepening the kiss. Theodore responded without hesitation, his hands moving to her waist, drawing her against him until they were pressed so close he could feel the quick beat of her heart beneath her ribcage.

The firelight danced across their faces, casting a warm, golden glow as they kissed, the world outside this moment disappearing entirely. It was as if they were alone in the world, the only two people who mattered.

Theodore’s head swam with the feeling of her lips on his, the way her body seemed to fit perfectly against his like they had always been meant to be this way.

Y/N’s fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer, her breath coming faster. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the tension between them giving way to something raw and real.

Every touch, every kiss, seemed to ignite something inside of him—something he couldn’t contain, something that had been building for months, years, even finally spilling over.

When they finally pulled away, their breaths were ragged, their faces flushed. Theodore’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his pulse racing in his ears. Y/N’s eyes were wide, her lips swollen from their kiss, and a soft smile played at the corners of her mouth.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” she said, her voice soft but full of affection. “I think we both were.”

Theodore smiled back, feeling like he had just found a piece of himself he never knew was missing. “I think I’ve always known, too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I just had to figure it out.”

The girl chuckled lightly, her hand still resting in his. “Well, I’m glad you did. Because I’ve never been more certain of anything.”

Theodore’s heart skipped a beat. He had never felt more seen, more understood in his life. Everything that had been building inside him, all the uncertainty, the fear of rejection—suddenly, it didn’t matter. She was here with him, and that was all that mattered.

He leaned forward again, this time more slowly, savoring the moment. As their lips met again, it was different—deeper, more intense.

This time, it wasn’t just the thrill of a new kiss. It was the recognition of something real they had both been waiting for. The kiss wasn't just about passion; it was about connection, about sharing something growing between them for longer than either of them realized.

As they broke apart again, they stayed close, their foreheads resting against each other, their breathing still heavy. Theodore's hand reached her cheek, his thumb gently brushing over her skin.

"I don't want this moment to end," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the peace that had settled over them.

Y/N's eyes met his, and she smiled softly, her fingers curling around his. "It doesn't have to end, Theo," she murmured. "We're just getting started."

And in that moment, Theodore realized that everything had changed. His soft spot for Y/N Malfoy was something deeper than he could have ever anticipated.

They had crossed a line together, but this was just the beginning.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #malfoy!reader #reader is draco's sister #theodore nott #draco malfoy #pansy parkinson #blaise zabini #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfiction #loving daisy works #loving daisy au #loving daisy masterlist

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kesujo · 3 days ago

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Chapter 14: Miss Not-So-Innocent - Part 1

Previous chapter here. 8.4k words

“Hey, by the way, how’s it going with Tiffany?”

“Hm?”

Jessica showed up an hour or so after Parker had finished dinner. Seeing that she arrived in her pajamas, Parker was about to turn her away when she said she just wanted to hang out and was feeling a little lonely. He knew Hunter had to leave the state for an emergency for one of the hotels he was responsible for—a safety threat of some kind—leaving Jessica by herself for a few days now, so he shrugged and let her in. Fortunately, Jessica stayed true to her word, joining him in watching a volleyball match in the living room and doing nothing more.

In fact, with how much Parker’s been interacting with Jessica recently due to work, casual conversations in the office in which the subject of sex didn’t come up even in subtle, teasing jest were becoming more and more frequent. It was nice, even if Jessica had called him into her office the other day to coat his penis with some weird stuff while she kept it erect for a few minutes and refused to elaborate further afterwards. Otherwise, however, their conversations were … exceedingly normal. It’s only been a week, but having normal interactions with Jessica was a nice breath of fresh air. When she wasn’t dragging him to film pornos or dragging him into her office to be railed with her tits hanging out the windows, Jessica was a very charming, very likeable person. So, Parker’s guard slowly but surely dropped, to the point that he had pretty much forgotten that Jessica was sitting next to him on the couch until she posed the question.

“Pretty…” Parker racked his brain for any possible way he might’ve wronged Tiffany that would thus elicit the question from Jessica. Was it that kiss? But she didn’t seem to mind that much … was there anything else? Did he find some other way to mess up? “…good?”

Seeing Parker’s hesitation, Jessica laughed. “Relax, I’ve heard from Tiffany but want to hear from you too.”

Hearing that, Parker let out a sigh. “Yeah. Pretty good. I took her mini-golfing and then had seafood for dinner. It was a ton of fun, at least for me, but…”

“Hm?”

With how socially aware Jessica was, Parker was really hoping he wouldn’t have to spell it out for her. “Well … you know, how—what’d you hear about it from her?”

When Jessica stayed silent for a few seconds, Parker’s heart plummeted. Was it that bad?

“Do you want to know how Tiffany reacted to watching that porno we shot?”

Parker didn’t know what he thought Jessica said at first. He had to do a triple-take to fully understand it, and when he did, “Ti—” actually, was he hearing correctly? “—Tiffany?!”

“Hm?”

“You showed that to her?!”

Jessica met Parker’s bewilderment with a nonchalant smile. “Yeah. Don’t worry though, she loved it. You should’ve seen how red her face was.” In the back of Parker’s mind, he had to admit that the sight would’ve been really endearing. “But, I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t know we fuck on a regular basis.”

Parker groaned. Was that a good sign? What did Jessica’s answer even mean? “But … ah, but that’s … and she knows it was us?”

“Mhm.”

Parker’s mind was beginning to short circuit. The fact that Jessica was so jovial about this was a good thing, right? “And she knew it was us when she asked to see it?”

“Mmhm.”

“And … she really watched it, all the way through?”

“Yep.”

“And she … she liked it?”

Jessica laughed. “Yeah! Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“I mean … are you sure it was ok to show Tiffany something like that?”

“Well yeah, considering she was the one who insisted on watching it.”

Parker’s jaw dropped. “She—” if it wasn’t Jessica who was telling him this, he never in a million years would’ve believed it. Heck, even though it was Jessica, Parker was still unsure if he believed that. “—she wanted to watch it?”

“Yep. I know, I was surprised too.”

The adorable, wide-eyed Tiffany, who could barely say the words ‘sex’ or ‘fuck’ without turning beet red, who was hesitant to even ask for a goodbye kiss after their last date … that Tiffany asked to see a porno her best friend and said date featured in?

“I can see that you don’t believe me.”

“I mean, you can understand why, though.”

“Yeah. I teased Tiff about it for days.” There was laughter in Jessica’s voice, and a little bit within Parker himself, he couldn’t help but feel bad for her. “You know, you two are so darn cute together!” Unable to contain the excited schoolgirl inside her any longer, she let out a squeal so loud that Parker jumped. “I knew you’d be perfect for each other! You should’ve heard her squealing to me about how perfect you are after every single one of your dates!”

Hearing that put Parker a bit more at ease. “Well, glad to hear it. Just, go easy on her, alright?”

“Aw, worried about your girl?”

“She’s not—” Parker stopped, realizing Jessica wasn’t going to listen no matter how firmly he denied it.

“I mean, she pretty much is, right?”

“What?”

Jessica’s grin grew wider. “Come on, you don’t think Tiff didn’t fill me in on all the deets about your dates? How you got a discount at that restaurant for being a ‘really cute couple’, how you kissed her goodnight in front of her parents after that one date, and how that turned into an impromptu first meeting with them, and how they ended up adoring you?” Parker groaned. He could feel the tips of his ears turning redder by the second: he just wanted to smash his head into the couch’s armrest, but the rally going on in the volleyball match was too intense to turn his eyes away from.

“Jess—”

“Oh, and of course, on your most recent date, where you gave her a pad when she forgot to put extras in her purse?!” Parker was now convinced: the reason why Jessica was so giddy about Tiffany getting together with him was so that she could tease both of them relentlessly. Never mind what he thought before, about Jessica being incredibly likeable: she was the Devil herself. “I’ve heard from Tiff’s parents about male friends of hers they disapprove of. But to think you managed to charm them after kissing their daughter goodnight?! That’s almost unheard of! No, scratch that, that is absolutely unheard of!”

“Can you please stop?”

Jessica let out a giggle. “You and Tiff both, the way your voices get so quiet and your ears turn so red, are just too adorable.”

After a brief pause, Parker spoke back up. “So, you know how I only asked you twenty-two questions about Tiffany?” Jessica nodded. “I’m going to use one of them now.” Sensing the seriousness in his voice, the smile faded from her face. “Are you one-hundred-percent sure Tiffany is willing to have an open relationship?” This was the one hangup that was preventing Parker from asking Tiffany to be his girlfriend. Going out with Tiffany while fucking her best friend just felt wrong. Spending time with Tiffany, talking to her, just being around her made Parker feel like he was on cloud nine, but that thought lingering in the back of his mind prevented him from fully enjoying it. He wouldn’t put it past Tiffany to simply be too nice to acquiesce with an open relationship when she, in reality, wasn’t. Or maybe she even gaslit herself into believing that she was. “I mean, maybe you’re not the right person to ask, but…”

“Yeah … I know, right? A sweet, innocent, traditionalist girl like Tiffany? Especially after what she went through?” Parker didn’t respond, continuing to watch the match. Parker figured Jessica was talking about the troublesome experience Tiffany had with an ex, but seeing as how she kept her wording vague, he didn’t pry. “I’ve talked to her a lot about it, reassuring her I’d be willing to give up on my competition with Hunter in a heartbeat for her, but every time, she said that she’s sure about it.”

“I … I see.”

It set Parker’s mind at ease somewhat, but still didn’t fully clear up the muddiness in his mind about the topic. He would just have to talk to Tiffany about it.

“Have you two fucked since the first time?”

Parker snorted. “What—what are you asking all of the sudden?!”

Jessica just smiled. “So, that’s a no?”

“No! For your information, it’s already not normal to have had sex with someone before starting to date them.”

“That’s such a waste though, with how hot Tiff is and how much of a blast you two were having last time.” Parker’s face flushed a little at that memory. It was true that having sex with Tiffany was great, and he would be lying if he said that he never thought about it, but Parker prioritized taking the proper steps in their relationship first. He was thankful for Jessica for introducing them, but he didn’t need her to influence it with her salacious tendencies.

“It’ll happen when it happens.”

“That might be sooner than you think. I’m pretty sure Tiffany is—” the notification sound of a phone interrupted her, and when Jessica whipped hers out to check it, she got up. “—sorry, my friend just got here, she’s in the lobby. We were supposed to hang out, but do you mind if she comes here?”

No. No, no no no. He wasn’t going to get roped into this again. He didn’t care how unlikely it seemed that this friend of Jessica’s would want to have sex with him, he had gotten caught off guard too many times with thoughts like surely not or but this is too far-fetched or Jessica isn’t this insane to disregard that possibility.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“But she came to hang out with you, right?”

“I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

What was Jessica doing here? Did this friend know about him for some reason? Sure, if Parker was visiting a friend, he wouldn’t mind meeting a friend of his friend’s, but saying he’d love to was stretching it a bit. Maybe this friend just liked meeting new people … otherwise, Parker couldn’t shake off the paranoid feeling that this was going where he feared it might be going. “I’m nothing special.”

“I beg to differ, you’re my husband’s best friend. Such a man is not ‘nothing special’.”

Parker sighed. He knew where this was going: they would go back and forth until Jessica made him feel guilty for refusing to accommodate this friend of hers. In fact, they didn’t even need to go back-and-forth much more, he was already starting to feel that guilt, but trying to disregard it to fend off his paranoia felt a moot task. “If she really wants to come over, then yeah, she can.”

“Great! I’ll be right back!”

In the few minutes Jessica took to retrieve her friend, Parker weighed the possibility that he would be roped into more shenanigans. If she was even able to rope Tiffany in, then what about her friends who were more like her? Parker didn’t really know many of Jessica’s friends, but from what little he heard about them from Tiffany, she was more so the odd-one-out than the normal one. Given, in that context, it seemed like Tiffany was joking, so all Parker could hope was that Tiffany was exaggerating a bit for comedic effect.

When a knock came at the door, Parker jumped out of his seat. “Coming!” Opening the door, he was greeted with the smiling visage of Jessica and one other, slightly shorter but truly breathtakingly beautiful woman. If Parker was tasked with the objective to sculpt the most aesthetically pleasing face he could imagine, this woman would’ve easily beaten the product of his imagination. Parker didn’t know what it was with Jessica and having the most attractive friends, but she was an almost mystical, ethereal beauty that he almost couldn’t believe existed in the real world. Her skin was fair, unblemished, and porcelain white; her hair jet black, silky smooth, stopping at her chest; the only thing that could be said about her was that her slim figure didn’t make way for many curves, but even that seemed to suit her pure, innocent visuals well. Above all else, though, was how well her facial features fit on her face: her eyes were large, her eyelashes long, her eyebrows perfectly trimmed, her nose slim and long, her lips full, her cheekbones protruding and her perfectly aligned teeth shining white against his apartment’s lights.

“Parker, this is Irene, a childhood f—…”

Jessica abruptly cut herself off, looking over at the other woman, who gave her an encouraging nod, emphatically interjecting, “Friend!”

“—friend of mine.”

“Hi!” The luminescent woman stepped in and embraced the significantly taller man in a hug, a gesture which momentarily caught him off guard. “Oh wow, you’re pretty tall.”

“Uh—” He had never met Irene before, so being introduced with such a friendly gesture stunned him for a brief second. “—yeah, sorry.”

“Oh, no need to apologize! It would probably be easy to tackle you, I would just have to duck a little and your arms would go right over my head!”

Parker let out an utterly bewildered chuckle. “Wh-What?”

“See?” Irene demonstrated by doing exactly what she said, ducking a little and wrapping her arms around his torso, planting her face against the bottom of his sternum. “It goes right over,” she said, tilting her head upwards to see Parker’s arms swiping at open air.

“Yeah … I guess it does…” Parker looked over at Jessica who was just looking at the two with a bemused smile. He shot her a confused glance, to which she replied with a shrug.

Irene released Parker, squatting down to pick up a package she had dropped to hug him. It was only then that Parker noticed it. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just something Jessica asked me to pick up for her.”

“…Right, gotcha.” The vague answer reminded Parker of the hesitation with this entire ordeal, something that Irene’s effervescent introduction had caused him to forget. Did he really want to know what that package contained? Did he even care? Why didn’t they drop it off at Jessica’s place, which was right next door, first? None of these were questions he was going to get answers to anyway, so Parker just kept them to himself.

“Were you watching volleyball?”

“Yeah. Do you watch?”

“Nope!”

The answer, again, caught Parker off guard. With the amount of enthusiasm Irene asked the question, Parker figured she recognized the teams or at least had some degree of interest in the sport. “Oh.” Usually, Parker was able to carry a conversation better and more naturally. With Irene, he couldn’t even formulate a proper response in his mind.

“Oh—oh my gosh, they’re hitting that ball so fast! I can’t imagine intentionally letting that hit my own arms.”

Well, that was something to work with at least. “Yeah, those spikes can get up to sixty miles-per-hour.”

“Don’t you need to be tall to play volleyball?” Irene turned to face Parker. “You’re pretty tall, right? Have you ever played it?”

“Me? No, I just like to watch. I’m probably on the shorter side for volleyball players, honestly.”

Hearing that made Irene’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Really?! Wow … I probably wouldn’t even have to duck to tackle them.”

Another chuckle escaped Parker’s lips. “Why would you want to tackle them?”

“I don’t know. Isn’t it fun to tackle people sometimes?”

“I don’t…” Parker trailed off, completely unable to formulate a response. “…Jessica, how do you keep up with her?”

Jessica smiled. “I don’t. I just let her say whatever she wants.”

“Hm…”

Irene didn’t seem to mind, plopping down on the sofa and setting the package down next to her. “Oh wait, number nine is pretty hot, isn’t he?”

“Hm?” Jessica turned towards the TV screen, finding the player with the corresponding jersey. “Yeah, he is.”

“How tall is he? Do you know?”

Irene turned towards Parker, who could only shrug. “My guess is somewhere between six-two and six-five.”

“Holy … that’s a bit too tall, isn’t it? I mean, if someone’s that tall, would I even have to kneel to give him a blowjob?”

Parker let out a hacking cough. “Wha-What?”

“I mean, you’d probably have to bend down a little. Like, for Parker, I can still kneel and be level with his dick, but I need to pull it down a little while straining my neck up a little to compensate.”

“Oh, I see. But what if their penis isn’t as big? Then wouldn’t it be slightly harder to pull it down to the level of your face while kneeling?”

“Oh, that may be true…” What the hell kind of a conversation were they having? And why were they speaking about it so casually? And especially in front of someone else? “So I guess you’d have to squat or something.”

“Hmm … wouldn’t it be pretty hot to be riding one of their dicks while another one of them stuffed your mouth from above?” Jessica pondered it, not seeming to be very convinced of the idea. Parker, on the other hand, was still recovering from the whiplash from the stream of vulgar words coming out of the mouth of the woman with contrastingly angelic, pure visuals. “Or maybe they could spitroast you with your feet off the ground, or maybe even suspend you in midair while fucking you in both your pussy and your ass.”

“Hm … I’m pretty sure Hunter’s a little shorter than Parker, but the suspended spitroast idea sounds so hot…” Parker, no longer feeling comfortable with the conversation, slowly got up and off the couch, but before he could escape, Jessica grabbed ahold of his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Uh … bathroom?”

“Right there,” Jessica motioned towards Irene, who simply shot Parker a smile.

“What?”

“There’s your urinal,” she repeated, Irene opening her mouth in tandem.

Parker scoffed. “Wha-What are you even saying?”

“What she’s saying is that you’re free to use me like a toilet.”

Oh god, now there were two of them. He knew it—he knew it was a bad idea to let Jessica invite her friend into his apartment. Why was he so soft on her? “I’m not—” hearing Parker sigh caused the two to burst into a fit of giggles. “—you tw—what’s wrong with you, Jessica?”

“Huh? Were you about to ask Irene what’s wrong with her?”

“What?” Irene’s face took on an exaggerated look of offense. “How could you? All I did was offer my mouth as your urinal.”

“Like—” Even when there was one Jessica, Parker often found himself overwhelmed with how sexually and kinkily she spoke. “—I, like, I mean, you realize why that’s a really—” But now that there was a second one just as sexual and kinky, if not more so … how was he supposed to react? “—that’s, like, you know, not … normal … not a normal thing to say?”

Irene shrugged. “Normal’s boring.”

Oh. Was this where Jessica got that idea from?

“Right…”

“Well?”

“Hm?”

“You need to go to the bathroom, right?”

“No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use Irene’s mouth. I mean, I just met her, you know.”

“Oh, but she knows all about you.”

That couldn’t be good. How could he escape? But this was his apartment. Where could he even run to?

“I really don’t want to know—”

“She watched our porno.”

“God damn it, is there anyone you didn’t show that to?”

Jessica giggled. “Just like one or two more friends, don’t worry.” That was not the answer Parker was hoping Jessica would give him, but he figured he should be thankful it was only one or two more of her friends.

“Can I see it?” Irene couldn’t be talking about what he thought she might be talking about. There was no way. A woman he met just minutes ago for the first time … surely, she wasn’t asking to see his—“I want to see your dick for myself.”

Parker could only laugh. Ordinarily, having such a beautiful woman request such a thing would’ve been at least somewhat humbling, but given the situation, Parker couldn’t feel anything less than absolutely and utterly bewildered. Not only was it difficult to keep up with another Jessica, but the implication that something about the porno made Irene want to see his penis in person made Parker’s mind spin. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why that was, but now he had to grapple with that fact with the eager-eyed woman sitting on the other side of the couch from him. “Jessica, what…?”

“Oh, I forgot, you probably didn’t watch. There were some shots that made your penis look amazing, so I’d say Irene’s reaction is understandable.”

That wasn’t what Parker was trying to ask Jessica in the slightest, nor did he really understand Jessica’s explanation of Irene’s reaction, so he ended up just saying, “No, I—I’m, I’m not—I mean, I literally just met you, why would you want to go there already?”

Irene furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do I need to know someone for a while to see their dick?” Was she being serious? Either Irene was the best actress in the world, or she actually didn’t see an issue with her proposal. “I mean, people have one-night stands all the time, don’t they?”

“I mean—” Parker had to admit Irene had a point. But still … his brain was starting to hurt. It really was too much, trying to keep up with two Jessicas at the same time. “—no, I guess, but…”

“…But what? Did you want to see my tits first? I mean, they aren’t anything too impressive, especially compared to Jessica, but—” Parker stopped Irene as she moved to throw her short off.

“No! That wasn’t what I was trying to say. It’s just … I thought you came here to hang out with Jessica?”

“Um … I thought she invited me over to introduce me to you.” It was only then that Parker remembered Jessica mentioning introducing a childhood friend to him a week ago.

“Ah, right…” Thinking back on it, Jessica’s description of her at the time matched Irene pretty well: her figure wasn’t the best, but she was insanely beautiful. Parker just wished Jessica had given him a better heads up as to what kind of a person she was. Then again, she was Jessica’s friend. “…but that wasn’t the impression I got from Jessica.”

“…whoops, forgot to tell you?”

Parker rolled his eyes and sighed. “Well, now that you’ve introduced us…”

A brief silence followed in which the two ladies exchanged glances. Whatever telepathy that transpired between the two, the result was Irene saying, “I guess Jessica didn’t tell you much about me.”

Parker shook his head. “Sorry, not really.”

“Well, basically, all you need to know is that I have a breeding kink.” Again, Parker was caught off guard, letting out a hacking cough. “I came here because I want you to pump me so full of cum, my womb will have no choice but to give me a baby.”

That was a hell of a proposal, but what was Parker even supposed to do with it? Sure, Irene was definitely attractive enough to elicit a positive desire to acquiesce with that demand, but first off, why him, specifically? Was it because of that porno? The way she worded it … ‘my womb will have no choice but to give me a baby’ … Parker didn’t want to pry, but it almost sounded like Irene had tried multiple times before and had failed just as many times. But why would he have any better of a shot than all the other presumed guys she’s had in the past?

He felt like Irene was burdening him with a task, and the expectant way she was looking at him reinforced that.

“Ordinarily, I would want proof that you were tested recently for STIs, but since Jessica vouched for you, that’s not necessary. I have my own STI test report from last week in case you wanted to see it for yourself.” Irene handed him a bundle of papers that Parker briefly looked at—not that he was that interested in them, more so because he was so perplexed that looking at the bundle of papers placed in his hand was a reflexive action to being handed them. “Also, if you do manage to impregnate me, I promise to not burden you with child support. I can sign a contract if you’d like. I have one here,” she said, procuring another bundle of papers from her purse.

“Um…” Parker was overwhelmed, and this time, it wasn’t because of her eccentricity. It was almost like a business transaction, except it was one of those too-good-to-be-true proposals that had to be a scam. But if it was, where was the detriment to himself? This was Jessica’s friend, after all: would she try to scam a friend of her friend?

All this preparation reinforced his theory that Irene had done this with multiple other men, but aside from that, Parker didn’t know what else to think. Irene certainly seemed determined, even if she had said everything with the same jovial expression on her face. Thinking about the amount of times Irene must’ve tried and failed to become impregnated made him feel bad for her, even if he didn’t know why it was that Irene so badly wanted a child. But the question remained: why did he have to be the next one to try to knock her up?

“Come on, Parker—Irene’s giving you a free pass to fuck her until you’ve emptied your balls inside her. When’s the next opportunity to fuck someone like Irene without worrying about any consequences going to come up?”

Parker didn’t want to admit that Jessica had a point, but first… “Just to make sure—you aren’t in a relationship, right?” Irene shook her head. There was one concern gone, but with that, another arose. “Then … I’m sorry if this is insensitive, but do you mind telling me why you want a baby so badly?”

“Well, they’re so cute, aren’t they? Ever since I was little, I’ve loved kids, but guys don’t really like me, so I decided I’ll just raise one myself.” Parker didn’t believe Irene in the slightest when she said that guys didn’t like her, but there had to be a basis for that. What that was wasn’t Parker’s business to determine. In the corner of his eyes, he could also see Jessica shift uncomfortably a little, but he didn’t want to try to read into things. “Having sex with a bunch of different kinds of people is just a bonus. I don’t think I’ve ever had sex with someone as huge as you, though.”

Parker almost felt like he had to accept Irene’s proposal, which was weird because no man in his right mind would reject a chance to have sex with her. If they had met at a bar and Irene proposed to go back to his place, they might’ve had a one-night stand even if he didn’t know her ultimate goal with the sex. But… “So … you brought Irene over to have sex with me?”

“…Yeah?”

Sometimes, Parker wished he could dive into Jessica’s head to figure out why she didn’t find it weird that she did this. If Parker had a nickel every time Jessica brought over a friend with the explicit purpose of getting the two of them to have sex, Parker would have two nickels, which wasn’t that many nickels but it was weird it happened twice. Or maybe it wasn’t weird, considering this was Jessica. Did this mean he could anticipate Jessica doing this more in the future? If he and Tiffany became a couple, what would that say about him as a boyfriend, even if Tiffany stated she was fine with being in an open relationship? At least right now, he and Tiffany weren’t an item, but if they ever did, could he, in good conscience, do this?

“You gotta stop pimping me out.”

“Well, think about it like this: you get to fuck a bunch of hot women, and my friends get to experience your cock. It’s a win-win!”

“So, is that a no then?”

At the point they were in, needing to talk about being exclusive to each other was implied, but with what Jessica said … of all people, Jessica, the best friend of the woman he was seeing, who so woefully begged Parker to take care of Tiffany well, telling him Tiffany said that it was fine for him to have sex with other women … and to top it all off, as much as Parker tried to stave off the feeling, he could feel himself getting turned on ever so slightly. Was he bad for feeling this way? It felt wrong in so many ways, but when such an amazingly attractive woman was pushing herself onto him like this, wasn’t feeling turned on natural? No, a man with principles would be able to turn her away. But, then again, a man of principles might also claim that it was a man’s duty to acquiesce to the demands of a woman in need, and Irene was presenting herself to him as exactly that. “Well, first of all, let’s move.”

Just as he moved to stand up, Irene pushed him back down onto the couch. “Nope. I’m way too horny now. Do you mind?” Irene asked, her fingers looping around his pants.

“Wha—um—” Not that he wasn’t used to very forward women, but the eagerness with which Irene situated herself between his legs stunned him for a second. “—n-no, I guess?”

Off came his pants and boxers, and out came his mostly-limp dick. “Ooh, wow…” Irene’s dainty fingers brushed against his member. Parker felt his lower half tense up, his dick twitching at the soft sensations of her fingers wrapping around his shaft. “You’re not even hard yet, huh?”

Shit. Parker wasn’t mentally prepared yet, so, scrambling to answer, he stammered out a, “not really.”

“Hmm…” Irene’s fingers wrapped more tightly around him. With each firm tug and jerk, the soft reproductive organ grew more and more erect. “It’s so beautiful, too…”

Parker blinked, then let out a chuckle. “What?”

“Isn’t it?”

Irene turned to Jessica, who nodded in response. “It is!”

“What…” the question died in his throat. Not that he’s seen many other penises, but Parker figured his was pretty average, appearance-wise. What about it was aesthetically pleasing? He knew he probably wasn’t going to get a very good answer though, so he let the question die in his throat.

“Wow, and it’s still getting bigger.”

Figuring it was pointless to continue ponder about the morality of the situation, Parker shifted his mind towards Irene. The slightly deeper breaths Parker was taking gradually turned into gasps and hisses, his erection hardening and growing with every stroke. “Mmm…”

The fact that Jessica was very avidly watching didn’t help at all. Parker shot her a glare, but she just responded with a confused expression, her drawn-together eyebrows asking him ‘what?’. He didn’t have high hopes that would drive Jessica away, but Irene didn’t even seem to mind. She continued stroking him, egging it on further by planting chaste kisses along its hardening length.

“You said it was … seven inches?”

“Yea—”

“Seven point five,” Jessica interjected.

Parker had felt it irrelevant to correct such a minute difference, but of course Jessica would know the precise measurement, and of course she would be the one to correct Irene.

“Oh, god … so this is what seven-point-five looks like, huh?” Irene said in marvel, staring at his now fully-erect penis.

“Yeah. How do you feel, finally seeing it in person now?”

Parker tried not to think about the implications of Jessica’s use of the word ‘finally’. He, for a brief moment, wondered if women talked about the porn they watched and if they used it, but knowing it was Jessica and a slightly smaller and less curvy Jessica, he realized it was pointless to even wonder about it. “It’s … amazing. I thought they must’ve spent some serious budget to make his cock look so mouth-wateringly appealing, but now I realize the camera didn’t do it justice.”

“This is so weird.”

“Hm? What is?”

Parker could only gape at the clueless Irene. “Wha-What? What isn’t?”

“Oh, I guess you would want me to at least do this shirtless, huh?”

“That’s not—” Parker’s interjection fell upon deaf ears, Irene proceeding to throw off her shirt and revealing her breasts. The loose top she wore hid how well-developed they actually were, but they still probably couldn’t fill Parker’s palm. That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate them, though: with its even paler, milky white color tightly stretching across her chest, each mound decorated with a golf-ball sized, light-brown areola with two equally squeezable-looking nubs sitting in the center, they were as pleasant a sight to look at as the rest of her. “—what I meant in the slightest, but ok.”

“Hm? What did you mean, then?”

“I mean, Jessica’s right there.”

“So?”

Parker shook his head. He should know better than to try to appeal to common sense with a Jessica. “Never mind.”

Irene gave him a smile, giving his shaft a few more firm pumps before saying, “You’re funny,” then swallowing his tip whole in one swift motion.

“Agh—” Irene didn’t stop until she was halfway down his length, and by then, he could feel her throat tightening around his cock. “—ah, Irene—”

Irene, on the other hand, had placed hands on either side of his inner thigh to stabilize herself, unable to respond except with a few gagging noises. Tears started welling up in her eyes the further she went down, suppressing her gag reflex when it reached deep enough. It felt like it would never stop, not that Irene wanted it to; she felt like she had completely unhinged her jaw, her nose almost pressing against his shaft. Being that she could only breathe from her nostrils, with every intake of air she took in, accompanying it was the musky smell of Parker’s cock, and that invigorated Irene even more. With how much space Parker was occupying her mouth, her tongue had no choice but to be firmly pressed against the underside of his dick, haplessly drooling all over it. She tried to pay as much attention to his balls while doing so, but the truth was, at some point, both Irene’s mind and her throat had become completely occupied with Parker’s penis.

“Ah, shit.”

“Wow, look at her go…”

Irene barley registered the fighting words of her friend, taking a few moments to steel herself before beginning to bob her head against his length. Another swear flew out Parker’s mouth at the feeling of her velvety tongue expertly gliding and coiling along his length, her throat flexing and tightening against his member like it was made to house him. However, if that was indeed the case, then the housing was grossly undersized: Irene still had a third left to go before she could claim to have taken in his entire dick with her mouth.

Part of Irene began to wonder how he’d fit inside her pussy. How far would he reach, how would it feel to have him cum that deep inside her? Irene’s pussy ached, translated in the increased vigor of her deepthroating of Parker.

“Irene, holy shit—”

Parker was doing everything in his power to keep her hands off her hair. While Irene’s impressive blowjob-turned-deepthroating felt amazing, and while she sank a bit deeper with each bobbing motion, having the little bit unattended left something to be desired. Even if she talked and acted like Jessica, it didn’t mean she wanted to be treated like her, nor did it mean he even felt comfortable doing so. The fact that, in watching her and experiencing what Irene was doing to him, he felt inclined to shove her face until her nose touched his crotch made him wonder if Jessica had become too much of a negative influence on him.

Like clockwork, as soon as Parker felt sufficiently warmed up to want to reciprocate, Irene came up for air.

“Wow, you almost got all of it by the end there.”

“Really?” Irene wiped the drool coming out of the corner of her mouth, but even as she did so, she looked insanely beautiful. It wasn’t the same pure-innocent beauty as from before: this time, it was more so a femme fatale kind of beauty, one that made you realize she was dangerous but in all the ways you didn’t care about.

“Yeah, you had like an inch to go, it looked like.”

“Hm…” Irene looked up at Parker with a grin. “Maybe next time, I’ll go for all of it.”

“…Right.”

Irene giggled at Parker’s confounded reaction. “How was my throat?”

“It felt…” Was it normal to ask the question so giddily? “…uh, it was good…?”

“Why do you never tell me that?”

“Well,” Irene said, ignoring her friend and climbing onto Parker’s lap, shooting a dazzling, seductive smile at him, “wait until you feel my pussy.” It should’ve hardly been a surprise that Irene talked this way, but it still caught Parker a bit by surprise. By the time he had processed it fully, Irene was already aligning his cock with her entrance. “Ready?”

“This is … shouldn’t it normally be me who’s asking you?”

“Oh, you won’t have to ask me if I’m ready.”

The next sound to come out of Parker’s mouth was a surprised moan, the feeling of Irene’s blazing hot sex wrapping around his cock overriding his ability to speak.

“Mmm…”

Irene had her eyes closed, a mixture of a bliss and lust on her face as she lowered herself onto him at an astonishingly quick pace—quicker than Jessica their first few times, if he remembered correctly. “Ah, Irene—”

“Wow, fuck you’re big…”

More than halfway down, Irene started to slow down, electing to rotate her hips and slowly grind her way down his shaft. It felt incredible, alright: the intense tightness with which her pussy squeezed his cock, the wetness that counteracted any resistance the tightness offered, the warmth, the way her pussy walls seemed to be massaging his shaft … but the fact that Jessica was right there, and he was inside a woman he didn’t even know an hour before lingered in the back of his mind. Irene didn’t seem affected at all, but it stuck in Parker’s mind: was this normal? It couldn’t be, right?

Who was he kidding, of course it wasn’t normal. Even one-night stands, picking up chicks from bars or meeting from Tinder or the like involved getting to know someone at least somewhat before getting to the sex. For Parker, he had been made aware of Irene’s existence for only a few minutes before his cock was already two-thirds of the way inside her. How much his sense of what’s normal dulled since he started spending time around Jessica … Parker didn’t even want to think about it.

“Wa-Wait, Irene…”

He could tell Irene was going considerably slower, and if she was in pain, she was doing an immaculate job of hiding it. The intensity her pussy was squeezing his cock, however, was teetering on the line of pleasure and pain. However, perhaps it was due to some kind of pride, or maybe it didn’t feel painful to her, or maybe it even was Irene wanting to brag about being able to take his entire length in one go to Jessica, but she didn’t stop.

“Hmm … mmm…”

The low rumble of Irene’s husky voice was a nice distraction to the burgeoning pain on his cock, but Parker still had to grit his teeth to endure it.

“Irene, please…”

Parker had hardly ever begged for anything in his life. Maybe there were some times when he was a kid, begging his parents to let him finish the gym battle in the Pokémon game he was playing or begging his parents for ice cream on a hot summer day, but his parents otherwise treated him well. His first couple of sexual encounters with Jessica was what broke his streak of not needing to beg for anything, but ever since she told him about her competition with Hunter, the need to do that vanished.

At this moment, that need reemerged.

“Too … it’s too tight…”

The plea seemed to translate into a compliment to Irene’s ears, though. “Yeah? You like how tight my pussy is?”

It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good at all, but a combination of things distracted Parker from the pleasure aside from the pain—namely, self-consciousness from the knowledge that Jessica was watching them and the fact that he and Irene were essentially strangers. Asking Jessica to leave wasn’t going to actually make her leave, and addressing the fact that he met Irene only minutes before didn’t seem like it’d affect Irene, so the only thing he could point out was the thing she was bragging to him about.

“N—Irene, slower, please…”

“Hm?" Parker’s hands cupped her cheeks and pushed upwards. “Oh!” Jessica let out a giggle as Parker lifted her up enough that the pain mostly subsided.

“You’re too eager, Rene.”

“Sorry…”

Irene shared a sheepish smile with Parker, who just shook his head at it. “Just, more slowly, ok?”

Irene nodded, and it was only after that when Parker realized what he had said: or rather, how casually he said it.

Being around Jessica really was messing with his capability to withstand a level of bullshit a normal person shouldn’t. Then again, a normal person would probably be willing to withstand more bullshit for the chance to have sex with Irene.

“Righty-do.” Parker blinked a few times, a bemused smile starting to play at his lips. “But you have to control the pacing this time, ok? Because I can’t promise I won’t do the same thing if you don’t.”

“Uh, right.”

When they resumed, Irene’s eyes fluttered shut. Her lips parted again, something Parker couldn’t help but look at: of all the beautiful features perfectly placed on her face, her lips had to be the most alluring. Even when slightly parted, or perhaps even more so when they were slightly parted, they seemed to naturally form a pout.

He wasn’t dating Tiffany yet. Plus, according to her best friend, she was even fine with an open relationship. And said best friend, who seemed to be invested in the relationship between the two, introduced Irene to Parker for this exact purpose. This wasn’t cheating. He shouldn’t feel bad for wanting to lean forward and capture Irene’s perfect, kissable lips.

“Shit.”

“Ooh yeah, fuck…”

Irene, perhaps interpreting Parker’s frustrated groan as one of pleasure, responded in kind, gently biting the corner of her lower lip and throwing her head back.

Having sex with Jessica was one thing, but having sex with another woman, even if she was Jessica in another body … Parker couldn’t rid himself of the thought that he was betraying Tiffany, somehow.

“Deeper, babe…”

“…Shit.”

Tiffany didn’t seem the least bit phased when Jessica was riding him; in fact, she seemed intrigued more than anything. But then again, that was before they started seeing each other. Maybe now it would be different.

Was he thinking about this too deeply?

“Parker…?” Irene turned around, her eyes landing on the conflicted, downcast gaze of the man whose cock was inside her.

“Damn it. Jessica, are you really sure about Tiffany?”

“Oh, wait, Parker’s the guy Fany’s been seeing recently, right?” Jessica nodded. “In that case, we should probably send her some pic—” she abruptly cut herself off upon seeing Jessica hastily motioning for her to stop.

What? Was this some kind of extreme teasing? Did Irene hate Tiffany or something? Why would she propose such a thing? But, most of all, why wasn’t Jessica reprimanding Irene for suggesting them to do such a thing for what seemed to be their mutual friend?

“I was going to let Tiff tell him!”

“Oh! Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Ok—” Parker lifted Irene off his lap and set her down next to him. It was definitely strange, preparing to dive into a serious topic with his erection out for all to see, but this seemed too important to pass up. “—what? What kinds of pictures were you going to send her?”

“Um, sorry Parker, I need to ask her something first.”

“Just to be clear, were you talking about pictures of … of … this?” Parker didn’t intend to raise his voice, but he felt as though he had been deceived into playing some kind of cruel prank on Tiffany. Irene seemed so nice, so likeable, and so genuine, too.

“I can tell you what Irene meant by that, but first I need Tiff’s—” Jessica’s voice trailed off a little, her eyes darting back to her phone notifying her of a text message. “—um, Tiff’s permission.”

After finally blowing up on Jessica about what they had been doing behind Hunter’s back after nearly being caught by him on his balcony, Parker figured Jessica needn’t hide much else from him. Jessica, too, seemed glad to be cleared of that misunderstanding … but where did Tiffany play a part in this?

“Give me a little…”

Irene sat idly next to Parker, a clearly guilty expression on her face. That wasn’t the face of someone who wanted to do something mean to Tiffany. Or did she just look that way because she had been caught?

“…ok, I got her permission. You know how I told you Tiffany was fine with an open relationship, but didn’t elaborate?” Parker hesitantly nodded. He didn’t want to antagonize Jessica, nor Irene, too quickly, so he made sure to reign in any kind of animosity that was starting to form within himself. “Well, I figured Tiffany wanted to be the one to tell you, but now the cat’s out of the bag, and now that I got her permission, I’ll let you know. I actually do know why Tiffany’s fine with an open relationship: it’s because she’s … how should I put this, a voyeur?” Parker didn’t even know how to interpret that. “Hm … no…” but what did that have to do with anything? “…well, the bottom line is, she finds the idea of another woman fucking her man hot.”

Parker’s first reaction was to scoff at that. “What?”

“I know! It’s always the purest, most innocent ones that are the freakiest, huh?” In Parker’s eyes, Jessica had no grounds to say such a thing, but … looking into her eyes, there didn’t seem to be a hint of deceit. Not that he knew her well enough to be able to detect it. “Why do you think she asked me to watch that porno we shot?”

Shit … well, that did explain that one thing, given it was true.

“But…”

“I can show you what I just texted her if you want proof.” It felt like a violation of privacy of the woman he was seeing, but his curiosity got the better of him. He nodded, leaning forward, Jessica turning her phone’s screen toward him. Sure enough, the text exchange was with Tiffany, and Jessica was explicitly asking permission to tell him about that aspect about herself. What probably took Jessica a bit to inform him was the little bit of hesitation Tiffany showed, but when Jessica promised some pictures and videos of him fucking Irene, Tiffany buckled.

“Do … you have a single normal friend?!”

Jessica burst into laughter. “That’s rude! Aren’t you pretty much dating her?”

Parker groaned. On the side, he could hear the faint chuckles of Irene. “I mean…” he didn’t mean it like that. It was just a guttural reaction he couldn’t contain … but wasn’t it pretty normal? Actually, he shouldn’t justify that outburst like that. Admittedly, it was pretty awful of him to say such a thing about a woman he was seeing, but … well, at the very least, this was something he did not see coming. And he wondered why Tiffany was friends with Jessica; turns out, they maybe had more in common than he initially thought. “…yeah, but … wait, are you actually gonna send pictures to her?”

“Well, I promised, so … unless you’re unwilling?”

Parker almost laughed at that. Leave it to Jessica to just assume he was on board with such a ridiculous proposal. If it was something the woman he was seeing wanted … should he deny her? It wasn’t even like the idea that Tiffany was a cuck of sorts turned him off from her; maybe it was Jessica’s influence on him, but he saw it as nothing more than a quirk, albeit a pretty extreme one.

“Irene…?”

“Um…” Irene’s downtrodden gaze alerted Parker that she still felt bad despite things having been cleared up.

“It’s—” it was only then Parker remembered his dick was out, which he began to move to cover but stopped halfway. “—uh, it’s fine.”

“So … then, are you also ok with the pictures?”

Parker sighed. When did his life become so weird? “Yeah, I guess.”

At that, Irene’s eyes lit up. “Great!” Actually, maybe Parker was the weird one. Maybe his preference for missionary, and at most, doggy, made him the odd-man-out. “Then…” Irene sprung off the couch and repositioned herself in his lap, her hands resting on his knees while her ass hovered inches over his softening erection. Parker tentatively put his hands on her plump cheeks, spreading them out to see her still-glistening pink folds, drooling at the prospect of being torn open again by his cock. “…go ahead. Make me scream with that dick.”

#jessica jung #smut #snsd #soshi #snsd smut #kpop smut #Soiling Mr. Innocent #jessica jung smut #red velvet smut #red velvet #bae joohyun #red velvet irene #irene smut

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ohmykinks · 2 days ago

Text

I LIKE THE WAY YOU

KISS ME...

I LIKE THE WAY YOU

UH-...

Sum: You tough boy gets to whinye for you

Warnings : ; MINOR WRITING (Anti's DNI) ; pussydrunk ; Unprotected! ; breeding ; male moans ; cowgirl ; reverse cowgirl ; oral (F receiving) ; degradation (M receiving) ; cunnilingus ; fingering ; praise (M receiving)

A/n: YOOOOOOO WHINYE BOYS LETS GOOOO; i dont know how tf whinye is written, and remember, im a minor, soooooo if you dont like this information, you can simple ignore or block my blog! :)

(This has not been reviewed btw 😭

Gojo:

“Slow down! P-please!~” — Gojo panted loudly, arching his back like a cat, you barely sat on Satoru and you could already feel his cock pulsing inside you

“First, admit you were wrong when you said my pussy was too small to handle your so so so huge cock” — Said with a sly smile on your face, making fun of how Saturu's expression contorted with each thrust

“N-no! A-ah fuck, fuck, fuck!” — He rolled his eyes, whimpering softly, with the feeling of your pussy swallowing every inch of his cock with every up and down movement you made on it

“Dont stop squeezing those pretty walls on me~ O-oh please...” — He held your hips not trying to seek some kind of dominance, he just wanted to feel you closer to him

“Arent you a fucking whore Satoru? Are you my dirty dirty little bitch huh?” — You said, looking into his eyes, what always made him shiver when you were on top, you kept riding him, with each penetration he let out a loud whimper

“Im a dirty whore... The biggest bitch this world have ever seen!” — His body was so soft that with every movement you made, he had little spasms

“I'm sorry! I-I was completely wrong, I'm the one who can't handle your pussy babe!- it's so warm inside that it even makes me want to-” — He could only focus on the pleasure you gave him, and when he least expected it, without even feeling anything, he spurted the hot liquids inside your tight cunt with a loud moan

“F-fuck 'toru!” — You felt his semen dripping from your entrance, it was thick and in a large quantity, you fell on Satoru, while the sound of his orgasm remained loud

Geto:

Geto wasn't much of a noisy person, he spent most of his time breathing heavily while the two of you make out, but there was one thing that made him let his voice out, and that was your delicious hips

Geto was sitting on the couch, while you did the rest of the work holding his cock, that was already hard, playing slowly with the head

"Put it in already!" — he demanded putting his head back, leaning on the couch, while letting out a little of precum, forming a line between his thumb and the head of his cock

"Be quiet, you're not the one in charge here, Suguru" — You answered him, dry as the desert, but being direct as a line, adjusting your entrance on his member, closing your eyes and giving a sigh

Suguru gasped, squeezing the fabric of the couch, curling his eyebrows to the point that they almost touched, pressing his eyes

Your pussy slid so wet in suguru, you gave a shaky moan - "Holy shit" — You cursed under your breath, adjusting to his size

You started moving, starting slowly, holding Suguru's knees, bouncing at a slow pace

"O-oh fuuuuuuck!~ just like that babe... Nice and sloooow" — Suguru spoke softly, like a whisper, still with his eyes closed, opening them briefly, running his hands over your back, then on your hips, and closing them again

You bit your lower lips, staring at Suguru's face, watching as his expression twitched as you were on top of him

Suguru moved his hips hitting the entrance of your pussy with a hint of violence

"my balls are almost entering this pretty cunt, oh my god~ so tight inside its driving me crazy"

"F-faster babe... Please go faster, bounce on my cock like you mean it" — He said without thinking twice, going towards your clit with his thumb, rubbing sloppy circles, leaving hot kisses on the back of your neck

"arent you a greedy one Suguru?" — You said with some difficulty, a bead of sweat running down your forehead, and a brat smile forming on your face from ear to ear after teasing Suguru, who whimpered in response

"dont tell me youre going to cum..." — You teased him again, giving a nasal chuckle right after, seeing Suguru expression as you curled your hips to face him, nails sinking into Suguru's thighs

"Just shut up and do your stupid job! Ugh~.. " — Suguru answers briefly, your gaze always made him shiver down his spine, his face certainly red, you could feel his legs trembling and his back arching

"I think your job is to do the things I would do if you were fucking me rn, right 'Sugu?

Your bounces increased, slamming your ass on Suguru's balls, the skin-on-skin noises throughout the room

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! M'gonna cum! M'gonna cum inside, i want to paint your walls white with my seed, please? Please please please please" — He moaned loudly, begging to have his long-awaited release, taking your hips and pressing on his body, spurting all his hot liquid inside your pussy

"N-now... Can you ride me while looking in my eyes?... Please?..."

Choso:

"B-babe... Its so so warm inside yooooou~..." — He said quietly, running his thumb through your slit while putting his tongue inside your entrance - "I could eat you out everyday..."

You grabbed his black hair, running your fingers over every wick, looking at him with a satisfied face

"That's okay 'Cho... Just enjoy it for now" — Closing your eyes, moving your hips in circles slowly

Choso got more excited by every second, he held your waist, pressing your body against his face, not caring about his breathing, with his nose rubbing your clit lightly

He moaned softly, noises of you being licked and sucked echoed through the room

"F-fuck... Mmmm~" — He penetrated his tongue in and out, at first it started slowly and then he started to move faster

" Mmm 'chooo~ It feels so good!" — You rode on his tongue, moving your hips as you rested your hands on his chest, he held your pair of thighs with both hands to the point of leaving marks

He just closed his eyes and nodded his head to everything you said, moving his hands all over your body, squeezing your breasts, your ass, your thighs, penetrating two fingers, curling it to reach your sweet spot, sucking your clit as if it were the last meal of his life

"Cum on my tongue... A-ah! Please?.." — he begged with a muffled tone; every movement that he was making made you felt a vibration echo in your insides and beat directly into your soul, and his tongue eating you made your deepest fantasies appear in your imagination

"Almost there 'cho... Just a little bit more" — You spoke breathlessly, with a red face; your forehead drooping a few drops until you wiped it with the back of your hand and then closed your eyes

Choso got carried away, pausing for half a second and going with his thumb towards your clit, rubbing faster circles on it, making your toes curl

"cum on my tongue! P-please cum!~" — Choso said nervously, feeling your orgasm approaching fast, his expression writhed more and more

"mhmmm...- oh my fucking lord~ A-ah!~" — He felt your orgasm coming out, licking without wasting a single drop, rolling his eyes as he tasted the sweet taste of your liquids

Sukuna:

"Are ya sure mortal? Are ya sure you can handle it?" — Sukuna said with some suspicion, afraid that you would pass out on his cock just like last time

"I'm totally sure! I can even make you moan if I want to"

"Dont make me laugh, but if you think so..." — He said, taking his cock out already erect, you gasped in response even tho it wasn't the first and not even the last time you saw it, but the size always surprises you

"What are ya waiting for?" — Sukuna pulled you by the arms, sitting on his throne, putting you on his lap

You put your panties to the side, positioning yourself over Sukuna's head, his cock was big and thick, and barely fit inside, but you were confident to be able to put it all in

You slid over his cock, stopping halfway through, holding his shoulders, taking a long sigh, adjusting to the size, and then going down the rest that was out, hitting against his balls, the pink tip of his cock hit the right spot of your insides

"Ngh..." — He complained quietly, looking at the shape that formed in the belly of your small body

Sukuna's tongue kissed his teeth, making a loud noise as he felt you moving up and down like you're in an elevator

His precum made it seem as if his cock was sticking against your gelatinous walls

"Fuck 'Kuna~ Mhmmm~" — You moaned in pleasure, while Sukuna bit his lips, looking down, holding your ass and squeezing hard with his veiny hands

"Shit..." — He spoke softly, closing his eyes tightly, while putting his head back

You wiggled your hips in sloppy circles as your tits swayed up and down, the nipples visibly apparent covered by your shirt, Sukuna captured your pairs of tits, kissing them over your shirt, massaging them that seemed so so so lonely

"Mmhmm~..." — he hummed, leaving a dark stain on the fabric as he pulls your breast out of his mouth with a loud "pop!"

You smiled from ear to ear when you saw that you were pleasuring Sukuna, you held his thighs for support, rolling your eyes sensually while speeding your movements

"M-mortal... Ugh! Mortal! Cum for me!" — He corrected himself when he gives a small moan as he called you

You smiled at him, and then bit your lower lip, bouncing on Sukuna and rolling your hips, watching his reaction

"A-ah... Mmm~" - He moaned softly, putting his hands on your hips, forcing you to go faster as he felt your walls tighten on him

You felt a liquid flow inside you, as fast as the flow of a waterfall

"M'gonna cum!~ A-aaah!~" - He gasped to see that you came before him, your liquids coming out and soaking Sukuna's lap while you didn't stop moving, moaning already hoarsely, felling his cock pulsing inside you

When he finally came inside you, pressing you into his lap, throwing his hot semen all the way to your uterus

"T-that was insaaaanee~"

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jjk x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto smut #sukuna

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fictionalmenxyn · 2 days ago

Text

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞? 𝐍𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Pairing: tutor!rafe x student!reader

Replying to this ask

(Reader is 18 and Rafe is 23. Consensual. Also if your name is Lilly think of a different name for the ‘goody two shoes’ sos 😭)

Warnings: language, light degradation.

꥟꥟꥟

Once again, the clock strikes two pm. Meaning you have your final two hour class of the day. 2 till 4, simple yet challenging. It was math. Although you were a great student with great grades. Your math grades had somewhat dropped recently. Due to the lack of focus and the annoying boys or the good two shoes in your class. Along with the fact you have started to be more laid back and your humour getting to you and your friends.

So here you were. Sat towards the middle back, up by the windows. You sat on the inside part of your desk, resting your back against the wall. Your friends sat around you as the class started to slightly fill. There were about fifteen people in this class. Due to the misbehaved teens who’d skip this class knowing Rafe wasn’t one to mess with.

He sat at his desk, typing away at some emails as he waited for the class to everyone to arrive and for everyone to settle down.

You chatted and laughed with your friends. Then soon enough, Rafe had kicked the door wedge away from the door and closed it. He clasped his hands together “right everyone, focusing now!” Everyone had grown quiet. You turn a little in your seat facing the front a little more.

Rafe started to go through the basic steps of how to do probability. Easy and simple to finish off the day.

He had gotten Lilly to hand the books out. Everyone knowing, including Rafe, that she was the teachers pet. Always correcting people’s answers or calling out on bad behaviour. As he go to hand yours and your friends books she faced the front. “Mr. Cameron?? Y/n and the girls have drawn all over their books…” you and the girls shoot daggers at Lilly. It was the smallest of doodles at the bottom on the cover. Which Rafe had actually said to do if your pen had ran out or broke. Hence the continuous circles at the bottom.

Rafe waved it off “it’s fine, Lilly, just hand them their books…” he sat at his desk and leaned back a little. His polo doing justice for his lean muscular shoulders and his nicely round biceps. He was one of the few male teachers who’d work out. He was also the youngest teacher at your school. He definitely caught your eyes. And probably more girls in the school too.

You watched as his eyes would flicker over to the ‘popular’ girls in the class. For no reason at all, you felt almost, jealous?… could you even say that about your own teacher?… guess so, right?…

You had noticed how those girls, who were also in many of your other classes, would catch people’s attention. So that’s another reason you’ve become the way you have been for the past two weeks.

You did a few questions, knowing you wouldn’t be in detention for the lack of work you would’ve had. So as you do about ten questions. You turn to your friends, chatting away and quietly messing around.

Rafe would glance over the class every so often. Checking if anyone had their hands up or needed help. He then looked over to you and your friends. He saw the way you weren’t writing away as you usually would. He also noticed your lack of concentration and focus this past couple of weeks. He cleared his throat “Y/n, girls… focusing please.” He said in a soft but firm voice.

You and the girls went quiet, chuckling and giggling to yourself as you all do a few more questions then go back to what you were doing with each other. Lilly, however, must’ve had a thing against you today. She wasn’t happy. She raised her hand. Rafe looked up and nodded his head up “yeah, Lilly?” Lilly lowered her hand and replied “sir, Y/n is distracting me! I can’t focus…”

You scoffed and threw your arms up and let them drop down. Your friends rolling their eyes at Lilly. But also shocked as how she just called you out too. Even though they knew they were chatting just as much as you.

Rafe looked over to you “Y/n, I told you to focus on your work… c’mon, back to it.” You and the girls go back to working.

After three more times Lilly has specifically picked out you to complain about.

Rafe got up from his desk. Walking over to you and the girls. He had told two of your friends to split up and sit else where. The three of you being separated. Lilly had a smug yet stupid grin on her face. You glared at her and spoke “I’ll smack that stupid smile-” Rafe cut you off “don’t even finish that sentence, young lady… now..” he leaned back in the empty desk opposite you. Crossing his muscular arms. He continued “listen, you’re gonna finish your work and I’m gonna stay right here so I know you’re not causing any trouble. Get, to, it.”

You felt his eyes bore into you. You could feel his gaze. You were struggling. And not academically… he noticed that quickly. So he grinned slightly to himself. He grabbed a spear chair and sat in front of you at your desk. “Need help, sweetheart?” You looked to his eyes. Locking eyes as you nod a little. Your palms feeling slightly sweaty at the hottest teacher in your school.

He leaned closer, his legs spread under the desk due to his long legs. He reached into your pencil case and grabbed a pen. Even if he had his own pen in his pocket. He couldn’t lie when he said he’d been eyeing your pens. They looked nice to write with. A strange thing to say but it was true.

He started to talking you through it, how to probability. He’d lean closer to you as he would turn the paper so you could both see what he’d write. He’d use your stationary.

Soon enough he’d let you be, both of you slightly disappointed at the loss of closeness. But another teen in class needed his help. So he left you to it to finish in your own.

Soon enough, the bell rang. He called out “right everyone! Pack away, have a good day all…” he watched you closely as you put your pencil case into your bag and tug your backpack onto your shoulder. As you walk over to your friends. He called out “everyone’s dismissed, but Y/n! Stay behind, please” You whipped your head around “what?!”

He nodded “yes, you, stay behind..” he clicked his fingers and pointed to the desk right in front of his. You huffed and wave your friends bye as you sit on the desk.

Once everyone had left. He turned to look at you. He crossed his arms and leg one on front of the other. As he leaned his hip against his desk, he spoke “now, you and I know why I asked you to stay back.” He added “so why’re you being like this, hm?”

You crossed your leg over the other “like what?” He looked to your legs for a brief moment. Wondering what his hand would be like on them. Or his what his head would look like bet- Rafe, no, don’t start.

He reminded the setting of the moment. He spoke “like you had today, what’s with all the chatting and the lack of work getting done? Where’s that high scoring gone, hm? I’ve noticed the slight drop in your grades, sweetheart. Y’know if you keep this up I’m gonna have to call home..” you shake your head “don’t, please, it’s fine… it’s not even that bad.” He shook his head “darlin’… you went from a B to a D… and I know you do well in all of your classes so there must be something going on..”

After going back and forth, Rafe was slowly loosing his patience. God how could a pretty girl like you make him want to shout at you?… you’re to gorgeous for him to do that.

He spoke “Y/n, Y/n, darlin’… listen.. I’m not here for your bullshit excuses… I’m here to support and teach you…” you snapped back “I pay attention! I do the work! It’s fucking-” “language, sweetheart.” You huffed “I bet this is all cause of the teachers pet, Lilly..” you cross your arms. Rolling your eyes.

He had enough, you needed to be taught a lesson. And not in math either. Rafe didn’t teach naughty girls. Not at all.

He yanked your arms to uncross themselves and grabbed your jaw. He stepped closer and gently yanked your face closer to his. He spoke lowly “you listen here… I don’t give a shit about Lilly… yeah she may be a teachers pet, but that isn’t the discussion I’m trying to have here. You’re being naughty… and you know I don’t teach naughty kids. So tell me, what’s up with you?!”

You gasp softly as he had gently yanked your face closer to his. His eyes darting between your eyes and lips. His lips parted ever so slightly. Looking as hot as ever. God you didn’t expect this to turn you on so much. You feel your knees going weak and your lower stomach fluttering.

You remarked.

“I’m trying my best! Doesn’t that matter?!” He replied “Yea! I see that! But you’ve done so much more, Y/n… I know you can do more than that… I’ve seen the way you interact with people, how well you do in other lessons, the way other teachers talk highly of you… c’mon, what’s the issue? Why’re you falling back in just my lessons, eh? You were a smart girl, sweetheart… where did that go?” You mumbled “I- I thought you’d be into popular girl more…” you looked to the floor as Rafe continued to stare into your eyes. His breathing hitched ever so slightly.His eyes on you as he clicked his tongue…

꥟꥟꥟

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diaryofawhoretbh · 12 hours ago

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Hi could u do thanos x preg reader playing the games basically just like 222 n 333 so hear me out.. imagine we befriend 222 :3 n were basically talking ab our pregnancies (however u write it help) and ab baby stuff then topic of baby daddies comes around and 222 mentions that her baby daddy is here n we r like no way ours is too and we decide to meet near bunks w our baby daddies n when thanos n 333 see each other they r like no way and 222 and we have to hold them back from fighting. So we and 222 force them to get along bc 222 and we are close so why shouldnt they be too

love this request so much!!! i hope i did your idea justice 🫡🫡 i tried to write this quickly. pls let me know if this isn't what you wanted.thank you for requesting, enjoyyy!!

NOT proof-read, sorry!!!!

fine line | thanos (choi su-bong)

the barracks were quiet, save for the soft murmur of other players trying to get some rest. you sat on your bunk, legs stretched out in front of you, feeling the familiar weight of your belly.

jun-hee, player 222, sat next to you, her hand resting on her own swollen stomach. it felt strange, being surrounded by danger and fear, yet finding a kind of peace in talking about the one thing that kept you both going: the babies.

“i can’t believe we’re both pregnant in here,” jun-hee said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “i always thought the world would be different by now, but… i guess this is just how life works out, huh?”

you smiled, nodding. “yeah. it’s crazy. but honestly, it’s kinda the only reason i’m still here. these little ones, they’re everything.”

junhee rubbed her belly gently, a soft smile on her lips. “same here. i didn’t expect this kind of life, but it’s like… being a mom now, it’s like i have something bigger to fight for.”

you let out a soft laugh. “i get you. even in a place like this, we’ve still got our kids to think about.”

jun-hee looked over at you, suddenly more playful. “speaking of kids, i’ve got to tell you something. my baby daddy is here too.”

you raised an eyebrow. “wait, really? no way. who?”

junhee’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous grin. “player 333. you know him as myung-gi.”

you blinked, then let out a low whistle. “myung-gi? as in that coinmg guy?”

jun-hee nodded, not even a little ashamed. “yep. crazy, right?”

you let out a laugh, a bit of disbelief in your voice. “wow, that’s... that’s wild.” you leaned back, looking at her with a grin. “your baby daddy is the reason me and my baby daddy are in debt."

junhee’s eyes widened slightly. “i apologise on his behalf... but wait, is your baby daddy here too? no way.”

you nodded, your grin growing bigger. “yep. he is. and… trust me, it’s not who you’d expect.”

jun-hee tilted her head, curious. “who is it, then?”

you leaned in a little, lowering your voice as though sharing a secret. “it’s su-bong...ah sorry thanos.”

jun-hee’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “what? no way. you’re telling me that your baby daddy is thanos?”

you shrugged nonchalantly. “yeah, believe it or not. crazy, huh?”

jun-hee shook her head, unable to suppress a laugh. “this is... way too much. okay, okay, we need to meet by the bunks. i want to see this. you and me, we’ll introduce them to each other.”

you raised an eyebrow, feeling a little hesitant. “you think that’s a good idea? i mean, myung-gi and su-bong don’t exactly… get along.”

jun-hee smirked. “it’s gonna be fine. trust me. they’re both here for the same reason now. i’m sure they can at least pretend to get along. for the sake of us, and our babies.”

you were still nervous, but the excitement was enough to push you forward. “okay, fine. let’s do it.”

the two of you carefully stood up, waddling over toward the area where the men were usually hanging out. you spotted su-bong in the corner, his large frame looming over the other players, while myung-gi was off to the side, doing his own thing.

as you and jun-hee dragged each man to the agreed meeting spot, both men’s eyes immediately flicked toward you. there was a sharp tension in the air as they both realized who the other was. myung-gi’s brow furrowed, and su-bong’s fists clenched at his sides.

jun-hee crossed her arms, giving you a look. “this is gonna be fun.”

you took a deep breath. “fun? more like intense.”

before you could do anything, both men started toward each other, their bodies tense and ready for a fight. su-bong’s deep voice was the first to break the silence.

“you,” he muttered, eyes narrowed. “what are you doing here?”

myung-gi sneered, taking a step closer. “don’t act like you’re in charge here. you think you can just walk around like you own the place?”

jun-hee quickly stepped in between them, arms raised. “hey! no fighting. not now, not here. we’re pregnant, okay? we’re trying to make it out of here alive, and you two are gonna work it out.”

you added, stepping up beside her. “yeah. no more fighting. our kids need us to be smart. we’re in this together.”

the two men stared at each other for a long moment, tension thick in the air. but as the seconds ticked by, something in their eyes softened—just slightly.

jun-hee, ever the mediator, was the first to break the silence. “come on, guys. we’re both in this for the same reason. for our kids. so, no more petty grudges. can you just... act like adults for once?”

you nodded, giving them a pointed look. “we have to work together. for them. our little ones deserve a chance.”

su-bong let out a frustrated sigh but nodded slowly, his fists unclenching. “fine. for the babies.”

myung-gi gave him a long, hard look before exhaling sharply. “yeah, fine. but don’t think this means we’re friends.”

jun-hee raised an eyebrow, her voice light. “we’re not asking for that. just... can we at least get through this without tearing each other apart?”

the two men exchanged a last heated glance before reluctantly stepping back. you and jun-hee gave each other a silent nod of approval.

“alright,” jun-hee said, her tone softening. “that’s a start. we can make this work.”

you smiled, feeling a little lighter now that the tension had eased, even if just for a moment. the road ahead was still long, but maybe, just maybe, with a little teamwork, you could all make it out of here—alive and with your babies.

#squid game x reader #thanos x reader #squid game thanos #squid game s2 #player 333 #player 222 #pregnant!reader #junhee #myung gi

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cc1306 · 2 days ago

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hopeless romantic! suna, who can’t stop zoning out, while you’re telling him all about the fight the twins got in during second period. he stares at you blankly, thinking about the way your nose crinkles from laughter as you’re talking to him. cute.

hopeless romantic! suna, who asks, “sorry, what were you saying?” in response to you waving your hand in his face and snapping him out of his daze. with a slight blush on his face, he turns his head, mortified that you caught him failing to pay attention.

“seriously…keep up!” you reprimand him with a half-serious frown and a pout, and he forces himself to pay full attention not wanting to subject himself to such embarrassment again.

hopeless romantic! suna, who stays up late that night facetiming osamu, as he rambles on about some argument he and atsumu got into earlier in the day.

“sunarin, pay attention! quit thinking about [name], i’m talking to you,”

“i wasn’t thinking about her,” he defends, knowing full well that he was wondering if you were still awake before osamu interrupted.

“right, and i’m not the better twin. you know, you should just confess to her before it’s too late. someone else might make a move before you do, then you’ll never get to be with her.”

osamu’s statement made suna think hard.

“…yeah well she doesn’t like me like that. we’re just friends ‘samu.”

“you two are insufferable. let me know when you grow a pair and finally ask her out,” osamu groans out, growing tired of suna’s crippling fear of rejection.

“whatever… im tired now, bye,” suna cut off osamu’s rant with a yawn, before he ended the call.

would she really go out with someone else?

today was the day. suna decided that today would be the day he put his fear to the side and told [name] how he felt. he felt his hands tremble every time she was near and his heart pound, as adrenaline surged through his body.

during your lunch break, you sat on the roof together, just the two of you alone. suna saw this moment as his opportunity, the perfect chance to try and confess his feelings to you. you were currently rambling to him again, telling a story he honestly tried to listen to, but it proved difficult considering his heart was beating out of his chest, as he thought of how you’d respond to what he was about to tell you.

“and then aran and kita told me-“

“[name], i-“ he interrupts you mid-sentence, but his voice got caught in his throat. he cursed himself for being so nervous, all he had to do was say the three words but nothing came out.

“yeah, what’s up?” you ask him, as you drink from your strawberry milk carton contentedly.

“i…umm… i have something to tell you,”

okay yes, good start. just tell her.

“okay…should i be worried?” you ask, starting to get concerned about how serious suna suddenly became.

you thought he’d been acting strange the past week, like how he’s been zoning out recently when speaking to you, or just staring strangely. you’re getting the vibe that somethings wrong with him. maybe he’s sick? maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore? you have no clue what to think, so you chose to hear him out.

“no…well, maybe.”

he felt his hands getting clammy and nervously rubbed them on his trousers. his eyes darted everywhere, looking at everything in the room except back at your own expecting pair. he realised he’d been silent for too long - he needed to say something now.

“i have to tell you how much you mean to me. you might not realise it, but i’m obsessed with you. i think of you before i sleep, and you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up. you consume me, and i don’t know what i would do without you,” he blurted out, speaking so quickly you wouldn’t have been able to keep up if you weren’t listening so intently.

you sat there, stunned in silence. of all things he could’ve said to you, you certainly didn’t expect this. he took your silence as a signal to continue his speech.

“i need you in ways that surely can’t be healthy,” he chuckled, releasing a nervous breath.

“i-“

“you don’t have to accept it. i don’t expect you to tell me you feel the same, but i’d wait forever for you. if you want to be just friends then we will. but you have to tell me what to do. i like you so much. you can say you hate me. you can say you don’t feel the same. just tell me the truth.”

he couldn’t muster up the courage to look you in the eyes, so he kept his gaze trained to the ground, staring hard at the laces of his shoes.

“suna..” you started, forcibly sucking in a breath of air since you felt like all of it had been knocked out of your lungs.

“that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me. thank you. i don’t now what i’d do without you either because i like you too,” you confessed as he rushed to hold you in his arms in a warm hug.

“thank God, i don’t know what i’d do if you rejected me,” he joked, covering up his anxiety with humour.

“i could never reject you,” you beamed at him in return. he felt his heart explode.

hopeless romantic! suna, who returned to last period that day with a smile from ear to ear, as he entered the classroom hand in hand with you by his side.

#suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna x you #suna x y/n #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x y/n #fluff

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klunkcat · 3 days ago

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50 VAGUE ANGSTY + HURT/COMFORT DIALOGUE PROMPTS

42. "Tell me what I did wrong! What's wrong with me?!" + rise A Team 🥺

You keep requesting things that I know will hurt ur feelings!!!

TW: panic attack, derealization/dissociation

Waking up in the med bay had been less painful than this. He’d broken fourteen bones and fractured three more, been coughing up blood and some thick substance he was very sure was never supposed to be on the outside but he’d thought, ‘hey, we won’.

This didn’t feel like winning. This felt like standing on the other side of a very long tunnel and seeing the world from a sideways tilt.

He’d been allowed out of the med bay for a glorious two days– mostly to lay up on the couch instead of the stiff medical room— and missed somewhere that the world had actually ended. Because when Raph leaned over him to grab his glass of water on the table beside him, Leo flinched.

It wasn’t him, he decided. Because Leo had never once in his life feared anything from his big brother, not even when Raph had gone through his snapping phase. Because Raph was Raph and that meant the biggest warmest hugs you could imagine, and big wet watering eyes and crying over commercials with kittens that sneezed too hard. It couldn’t be him that saw Raph moving forward and thought of pink, slimy tendrils, and felt his airways closing with a sharp thrum of oh god and I’m going to die, because that didn’t make sense.

Raph froze, eyes wide. Leo fell further outside himself.

The other him made his hand move, he didn’t feel it move. The other him spoke.

“Oh, ha. Sorry, static must have shocked me.” From the blankets, yeah. That made sense. This other him that jumped at things at least had his wits, that was reassuring.

“Leo,” Raph said very slowly. Some hindbrain red alert crawled all the way up from his heart and right out his mouth, and into that other version of him that was staying very still.

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean to.”

Raph put his arm down just as slowly, leaned back like he could telegraph every moment. His eyes stayed wide and locked on to him. “Okay, that’s okay.”

“It wasn’t you,” the other him said, and Leo couldn’t feel his lips moving but he desperately wanted to be able to shut him up. “It wasn’t um— just. Jumpy. Pulled something funny, you know with the. The bandages.”

Shit, Leo thought. Stick to the script, pal.

“Right,” Raph said, without blinking. Like he was thinking something else.

“Don’t do that,” other him said. “Okay, the big brother voice thing. I don’t need it, let’s just. Watch the movie, right?”

He was suddenly aware of Donnie by his kneecaps, Mikey staring at him from the mound of pillows he’d made at Don’s legs. He needed this other him to shape up, acting classes were a must. He was flubbing big time, Leo did not flub.

Raph shifted again, molasses slow, and gave Donnie a look. His twins face twitched with a nod, and he summarily picked up Mikey, blanket and all and shuffled into his lab. Traitor, Leo thought vaguely. Pincer attack, coordinated front. He hated that. That was his and Don’s thing.

Stepping on my turf, he meant to say. Other Leo’s mouth didn’t move, so he was useless.

“Actually, Raph’s a little worried.”

Oh, Leo thought, oh no. Fear lanced through him again, in some distant way. He could see his fingers twitching and couldn’t make them stop. “Worried? About what. Can I help, big guy?”

Raph hummed. “Think you could, yeah. We haven’t talked about everything that happened, have we?”

Well, Mikey had made him talk a little, about why he thought it would be okay to choose himself without telling anyone else first. Hugged him as tightly as he could with Leo’s broken ribs for three solid hours until Leo’d given in and promised he’d be kinder to himself. Donnie had been furious at him for three straight days somewhere after he’d blearily woken up from his coma, but they hadn’t talked directly about why yet. Suddenly, the look he’d caught clicks.

He was still too outside himself to react the right way. Other Leo looked away and twisted the blanket in his hands.

Ever so slowly, he felt Raph’s warm hand land on his knee. He could see it, his big brother’s hand, green and normal. No spikes, no pink. He could breathe out— there was a rope somewhere there that guides him closer enough that he can flip his own hand around and squeeze.

“Nothing to talk about, bro bro,” Leo managed, but it was croaky and lacking all the usual fizz. Fizzless, him. The horror was nearly too much to think about.

The look Raph gave him was half a wince of apology, half tangled up exasperation. He didn’t like that there was guilt there. That didn’t fit. Raph hadn’t done a single thing wrong.

“Leo.”

He made himself swallow. “Raphala.”

Raph sighed. Flipped Leo’s hand over so he could stare down at the bandages crossing his palm. He’d burnt the inside of his fingers somehow, he couldn’t even say when it happened. Silly, really. He’d laughed when Don had told him. Come to think of it, Dee hadn’t really looked like he’d agreed with the joke then either.

He watched the way Raph traced his thumb across the white gauze, the way his face twisted and crashed down with mounting horror.

“I’m so sorry, Leo. You know I love you, right?”

Other Leo made a second appearance, making his hands go numb. “I— of course? I love you too, what does that—?”

Raph’s non bandaged eye blazed when he looked up at him, swimming in the dim movie light. “I hurt you, Leo. I took your trust and I hurt you with it. Raphie’s so sorry.”

That didn’t— Leo blinked rapidly. The world fell out of focus, clicked free of its puzzle piece board. Out into the ether. “Stop apologizing.”

“Leo—”

“No!” Other him said it sharp, loud. Too electric behind the words, he winced at himself and didn’t feel his face move. “You don’t— you don’t get to apologize to me. That doesn’t— what are you talking about Raph?”

Somehow his brother’s face only fell further, it made the panic in Leo’s chest sticky. “I said that wrong, I don’t—” It was so hard to think, why couldn’t he make himself think? “I’m not afraid of you! I’m not.” He wasn’t. Because it was Raph.

“It’s okay if you are, buddy. Raph understands—”

“I’m not!” Leo bit out, and blinked rapidly again as the world falls further out to sea. “I put you in danger, I jumped in and— I did something stupid, and you got brainwashed. Because I fucked up. Why aren’t you mad at me? Tell me what I did wrong!”

What’s wrong with me, he thought, vibrant and liquid like toxic sludge seeping down to his core.

He couldn’t even see right anymore, everything had gone shapes and colors. It wasn’t even Raph in front of him, it was something. It was nothing and—

“--breathe with me, okay? In. Out, that’s it. That’s perfect, Bug, keep doing that.”

The Bug snapped him together, pulls all of his strings forward. Raph hadn’t called him that since they were toddlers, when he and Donnie had started insisting being twins and Raph tried to play along. Bug and Boo, he’d said all proud. Donnie had hated it instantly and rebuked any attempt at being called something so sweet by biting. Leo’d tried to make it fit a little better, since Raph seemed to like it so much.

‘S it b’cause I bug you?’ Leo’d said, sad and puddling up but hiding it with a teasing smile he knew would make the hurting less loud.

Raph had smoothed his hand across his head and grinned. ‘It’s cause you’re my favorite bug.’ But it sounded like a good thing when Raph said it.

Leo forced in a breath, feels his hands become his hands and his toes firmly plant as his toes. “Sorry,” he managed. “Sorry, went. Um. Somewhere. Back.”

Raph’s big worried eye peered down at him, he let go of Leo’s hand with a firm squeeze. Leo shook his head, clearing out all the fuzz as much as he could.

“I need you to hear me, just for a second. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Raph tried, worry making his voice small. “Can you believe me on that one thing? You were brave, and you got us through it, and most importantly you got Leo through it. I’m not mad.”

Leo scoffed, staring down at the blanket instead. Raph carefully scrubs a hand across the top of Leo’s head, warm and calloused the way he knows.

“Raph wanted you safe. That’s all. And I hurt you, so it’s okay if you— if you need time.”

Leo snapped his eyes up, grabbing at Raph’s hand again even before he pulled away. “I don’t! I don’t need you to go anywhere, or leave or. Please don’t leave.”

Raph’s face gentled.

“Can we just,” Leo couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t. “Can we just stay here for a minute? Maybe talking can be later.” When it wasn’t him and other him preferably, so he could say things the right way.

“Okay.”

Raph settled back on the couch, slowly lifting his arm free and telegraphing the space underneath for Leo to decide. As if he needed to decide, the best place in the world was in Raph’s hugs. He’d always fit perfect there.

Raph smoothed his hand across Leo’s head with his thumb, back and forth.The warmth pulled him all the way back into himself, almost with a shudder. Leo squeezed his eyes shut and buried his snout further into Raph’s side. It made him brave. “I’m not scared of you. I’ve never been scared of you, big guy.”

Raph’s thumb paused. Smoothed back again. “It’s okay if you are. That was… pretty scary.”

Leo shook his head stubbornly. “Wasn’t you. I know my big brother anywhere. That wasn’t him.”

He pretended kindly not to hear the hitch in Raph’s breathing. The warm chuckle after is like lottery gold.

“Thanks, bug. I know you, too.”

#rottmnt #my fic #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rise of the tmnt #writing prompt #goodlucktai #there's probably more that should go at the end but i hope the mental image of Don trudging into his room with burrito'd mikey helps

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joelsrose · 6 hours ago

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jealousy breeds contempt

warnings smut proceed with caution lile this kinda lewd asff joel is a major meanie like so mean, also pls practice safe sex omg im the worst at warnings - also sorry tess i promise i dont hate u xx

The heat was oppressive, the kind that made your skin sticky and tempers short. You dragged your feet behind them, eyes squinting against the sunlight as Joel and Tess moved ahead of you through the QZ’s crowded streets.

They walked close, too close, shoulders brushing as they murmured in voices low enough to be swallowed by the commotion around you. A muscle in your jaw ticked. Their connection—whatever it was—always grated on you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

Joel turned abruptly, his sharp brown eyes slicing through the haze. “Keep up,” he barked, his voice rough, worn down by years of shouting orders and never being questioned. Tess glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a smirk that was as condescending as it was victorious, like she’d won some silent competition you weren’t even playing.

You hated Tess. She didn’t like you either; she never had. But the thing that really bugged you, that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts like a stray dog on a bone, was her relationship with Joel.

It felt... strange. Intimate in ways you didn’t understand, or maybe didn’t want to understand. You liked Joel—though God only knew why. He wasn’t nice to you. Not really. But he had his ways. He looked out for you when no one else did, fixed your messes, patched you up when things went south. It wasn’t soft, but it was something, and you clung to it like a lifeline.

The walk felt endless, the sun beating down relentlessly until you finally reached the run-down building they used to stash their contraband. Inside, it was cooler, the peeling wallpaper and damp air making it feel like a tomb. Tess disappeared into the grimy excuse for a kitchen, and Joel dropped onto the sagging couch beside you. His presence was heavy, commanding, like he could fill a room without trying.

“Here,” he grunted, shoving a sandwich into your hand. It was rough around the edges, hastily made, but it was the kind of thing Joel did.

“I don’t want it,” you snapped, pushing it back toward him. The bite in your tone surprised even you, sharp and ungrateful. You didn’t know why you were acting like this.

Or maybe you did.

The tension had been simmering all day, coiling low in your stomach like a knot of barbed wire. It wasn’t just anger—it was something else. Neediness, frustration, something primal that made your skin feel too tight.

Joel’s eyes darkened, his hand freezing mid-air as he processed your rejection. “’Scuse me?” His voice was low, gravelly, carrying the kind of weight that made you want to shrink under it.

“Don’t be a brat,” Tess called from the kitchen, her tone dripping with disdain. You clenched your fists, heat crawling up your spine as the familiar burn of shame and anger flared to life.

“Stay out of it,” you snapped at Tess, the words cutting through the tense air like a whip. For a moment, everything stilled. Tess froze mid-step in the kitchen, her hand gripping the edge of the counter as her jaw clenched. The heat of her glare burned into your skin, but you didn’t care. Not today.

You looked at Joel, his eyebrows lifting, just for a split second. A flicker of something almost playful, like he couldn’t decide whether to be pissed or impressed. Amusement, maybe, though it was gone before you could be sure. His lips pressed into a hard line, but the corner twitched like he was fighting the urge to smirk.

“You ungrateful little—” Tess started, her voice sharp and venomous.

“Stop.” Joel’s voice cut through hers, low and commanding. Tess turned her glare on him, but he didn’t flinch. His gaze didn’t waver, locked on you with that same unreadable intensity that made your stomach twist. “It’s fine,” he said, though his tone carried no softness, no reassurance. “She can go to bed hungry.”

The words stung, and your throat tightened. Joel turned, grabbing his pack from the floor and slinging it over his broad shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said to Tess, already heading for the door.

Tess huffed, her irritation radiating off her in waves, but she didn’t argue. She shot you one last icy look before following Joel out, her boots heavy against the worn floorboards. The door slammed behind them, leaving the room eerily quiet.

Your eyes drifted to the counter, where the sandwich sat untouched.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The room was dark except for the faint orange glow of the streetlights filtering through the cracked blinds. You lay on the mattress in the corner, curled on your side, the silence wrapping around you like a heavy blanket.

The muffled sound of boots on the hardwood floor broke through the stillness, steady and deliberate, before stopping just outside the doorway. You knew it was him before he even spoke.

“You eat the sandwich?” Joel’s voice was low, rough with exhaustion. He stepped into the room, the faint creak of the floorboards following him as he settled down beside the wall. He slid down until he was sitting, one knee bent, his broad shoulders resting against the peeling plaster.

You turned onto your back, staring at the ceiling. “Where’s Tess?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

“Outside,” he said simply, nodding toward the living area. “Cleaning up.”

You rolled onto your side, looking at him in the dim light. His head was tipped back against the wall, his eyes half-closed.

You hesitated for a moment, the words catching in your throat, but the day’s tension—weeks of it, really—forced them out. “I hate her,” you said, your voice flat, but the edges of your words were jagged.

Joel’s head turned, his gaze locking on you. His eyes flicked over your face, searching, reading you in that way he always did—like you were a puzzle he didn’t quite know how to put together. He let out a breath, the kind that wasn’t quite a sigh but close, and scratched at the scruff along his jaw.

“She’s not so bad,” he said finally, though his tone wasn’t convincing. He looked away, his hands resting loosely on his thighs. “She’s just... Tess.”

You huffed, turning your face back to the wall. “She’s awful,” you muttered, the heat in your voice undeniable. “She’s bossy, mean, and she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Joel said, though the weight in his voice betrayed him. He sighed, long and slow, like he didn’t even believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

“Yeah, right,” you replied, the bitterness laced thick in your tone as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself.

Joel shifted, his knee creaking as he adjusted against the wall. “Hey,” he said, his voice firm but not harsh. “Why are you actin’ like a brat?”

“I’m not,” you shot back, sitting up slightly, the mattress creaking beneath you. “She’s weird with me because of you,” you added, your voice sharpening, each word cutting like glass.

His head tilted slightly, eyebrows furrowing in that way he did when you said something he didn’t like or didn’t understand. “What?”

You huffed, your frustration bubbling to the surface as you leaned forward, staring him down. “She likes you, Joel. That’s why she’s always a bitch to me.”

Joel blinked, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief. And then he laughed. It was dry, humorless, and sharp, like the idea was so ridiculous he couldn’t even begin to entertain it.

“You’re fuckin’ delusional,” he remarked, shaking his head as he leaned back against the wall again, arms folding across his broad chest.

“I’m not,�� you snapped, glaring at him. “She looks at me like I’m some kind of... threat or something. Like I don’t belong.”

Joel’s face tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn’t respond right away, his jaw working as he chewed on your words.

“Doesn’t matter,” Joel said gruffly, his tone sharp and edged with irritation. “You don’t gotta like her. Just don’t act like a brat about it.”

“I’m not,” you shot back, your temper flaring hot and unchecked. “You’re not my fucking dad, so don’t tell me what to do.”

That did it.

Joel’s jaw tightened, and in one swift motion, he pushed himself up from the floor, his boots scraping against the wood as he rose to his full height. Before you could react, he was in front of you, his hand gripping your wrist firmly as he pulled you up from the mattress like you weighed nothing.

“What’d you just say to me?” he barked, his voice low and dangerous, his dark eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. His presence was overwhelming, his body towering over yours, unrelenting as he waited for your answer.

“I said you’re not my dad, so fuck off,” you hissed, your eyes locking with his in defiance. But your voice wavered, trembling at the edges, betraying the confidence you were trying to project.

Joel’s nostrils flared, and in one swift movement, he pushed you down back into the mattress and leaned down over you, bracketing you in with his broad shoulders and forearms. His presence was overwhelming, his weight shifting slightly as he hovered above you, his eyes dark and unrelenting.

You froze, your breath hitching as his knee pressed into the mattress between your thighs, the rough fabric of his jeans brushing against your core. The sensation sent a jolt of heat through you, sharp and unexpected. A sound escaped your lips before you could stop it—a soft, needy whimper that felt deafening in the tense silence between you.

Joel stilled, his brows knitting together as his dark eyes flicked to your face, searching for something. “The fuck was that?” he muttered, his voice low and sharp, more curious than angry.

Your cheeks burned, your breath catching as you tried to will your body under control. But then his knee shifted slightly, brushing against you again, and you couldn’t stop the way your body arched instinctively, a traitorous whimper slipping free once more.

His gaze hardened, his lips twisting into something between surprise and smugness as he looked down at you, reading every inch of your flushed face. “You just fuckin’ whimper?” he asked, his voice rough and almost disbelieving, like he didn’t trust his own ears.

“No,” you stammered, your cheeks burning as you squirmed beneath him, trying to twist away. “Get off me.”

Joel didn’t move. If anything, he seemed even more planted, his presence overwhelming as he leaned closer. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his dark eyes glinting with amusement and something else—something darker, something that made your stomach churn and flip all at once. “Oh,” he drawled, his voice slow and dripping with condescension. “So that’s what this is about, huh?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice steady, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. The way he looked at you, like he could see right through you, made it impossible to breathe.

“Poor little thing,” he murmured, his tone mockingly sweet, each word cutting deeper. “So wound up you don’t even know what to do with yourself, huh?” His thumb brushed lazily over your hip, the contact light but enough to make you squirm. “That’s why you’ve been actin’ like a goddamn brat all day, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t—” you started, your voice shaky, but Joel cut you off. His hand came up, rough and steady, cupping your jaw and tilting your face up toward his. The motion was firm, commanding, leaving no room for protest.

“Don’t even try to lie to me,” he said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine. His dark eyes bore into yours, unrelenting and sharp, as if he could see right through you, peeling back every layer you tried to hide behind. “I’ve got you all figured out. You’ve been beggin’ for attention, haven’t you? Too damn stubborn to just ask for it, so you throw a tantrum instead.”

"Fuck off Joel," you said, but your words lacked conviction, your voice trembling with a mix of frustration and something else—something darker. There was no fight in your tone, no real weight behind the demand.

Joel laughed, low and rough, the sound rolling from his chest like thunder. It wasn’t warm or comforting; it was sharp, mocking, cutting into you with ease. “I fuckin’ knew it,” he drawled, his tone thick with condescension. His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he leaned in closer. “Knew I could hear you at night. Moanin’ like a needy little thing. Horny as hell, weren’t you?”

“Joel!” you shrieked, mortified, your voice cracking as your face burned hot with embarrassment. You squirmed beneath him, trying to twist away, but his weight pinned you down, unyielding. “Stop it! Oh my God, stop—”

But Joel didn’t stop. If anything, his smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “That why you don’t like Tess?” he murmured, his voice laced with teasing cruelty.

“What?” you sputtered, whipping your head toward him, your voice high and defensive. “Of course not!”

“Thought maybe you were jealous,” he continued, his tone slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every word. “Thinkin’ I was fuckin’ her.”

Your glare sharpened, your hands balling into fists at your sides, but the heat crawling up your neck betrayed your frustration. “I don’t give a fuck what you do with her,” you spat, your voice laced with defiance.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening as he studied you, his gaze heavy and unrelenting. “Admit it,” he murmured, his tone coaxing but sharp enough to sting. “You’ve been wantin’ this—wantin’ me—for a long time. Haven’t you?”

“You’re a freak,” you snapped, twisting beneath him in what you tried to pass off as resistance. But it was half-hearted at best, your body betraying you completely.

The heat pooling low in your stomach, the electric buzz coursing through you—it all told the truth that you refused to say out loud. And you knew Joel could see it, could feel it.

His smirk widened, cruel and smug, his eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. Without warning, he stood up, dusting off his jeans with deliberate nonchalance, as though nothing had just happened. The sudden loss of his weight, his heat, left you reeling, your skin still burning where his touch had lingered.

“Alright,” he said, his voice casual, dismissive, as he turned toward the door. “Sleep well.” The words were thrown over his shoulder like an afterthought, his tone dripping with indifference, and he didn’t even spare you a glance.

“What?” you blurted, sitting up so fast the mattress shifted beneath you. Your voice was laced with panic, confusion. “Where are you going?”

Joel stopped in his tracks, turning his head just enough to look at you, his expression smug and infuriating. “Where am I goin’?” he repeated, his voice rich with mockery. “Thought you didn’t want me here, darlin’. Thought I was a ‘freak.’” He let the word roll off his tongue, slow and deliberate.

You opened your mouth, your pride fighting against the words clawing their way out. “Come back,” you said softly, barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in your voice betraying you. It hung in the air, raw and desperate, and you hated yourself for how much you meant it.

Joel stopped mid-step, his shoulders stiffening before he turned his head just enough to look at you. His smirk returned, slow and lazy, as he pressed a hand to his ear in exaggerated mockery. “What was that?” he drawled, “Didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart. Magic word, maybe?”

“Please,” you bit out, your voice sharp, but the heat in your stomach betrayed the anger in your tone. When he didn’t move, you groaned, throwing your head back against the wall. “Fucking hell. Please, Joel.”

That did it. His smirk softened, his eyes darkening as he took a step back toward you, then another, his movements slow and deliberate. “There it is,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he stood before you again, towering over you. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t fight him.

"Alright, lay back," Joel said, his voice low and rough, a command, not a request.

You didn’t hesitate, the tension in the room thick enough to suffocate you. You ripped the covers off and leaned back against the mattress, your body buzzing with anticipation. Joel settled beside you, one knee pressing into the bed as he took his time, his dark eyes trailing over you like he was trying to figure out what to do with you.

Excitement coursed through you, and you shifted, your legs falling open instinctively, one thigh brushing against his leg. It was bold, shameless, and you didn’t care. Not when he was this close, not when his gaze was this heavy.

“Jesus,” Joel muttered under his breath, shaking his head as his eyes flicked down to where your thighs parted. “Like a bitch in heat.”

Your face burned, the words cutting through you like a knife, sharp and cruel. “Don’t be mean,” you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of indignation and need.

He snorted, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “Mean?” he repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. “You were the one actin’ like a brat all day, weren’t you?” His hand reached out, rough and calloused as it slid up your thigh, his touch firm and unyielding. “So that’s how I’m gonna treat you.”

Your breath hitched as his hand moved higher, the warmth of his palm searing against your skin. His eyes locked on yours, dark and intense, daring you to argue. “You think you deserve nice?” he drawled, his voice soft but laced with a cruel edge. “After the way you’ve been runnin’ that mouth all day?”

“I didn’t—” you started, but he cut you off with a sharp laugh.

“Don’t even try,” he said, his thumb brushing against your inner thigh in a way that made your legs tremble. “You wanted attention, didn’t you? Well, now you’ve got it, darlin’. So be a good girl and take it.”

Joel’s thumb pressed firmly against you, the rough fabric of your clothes doing little to dull the sensation as he dragged it slowly over your aching, wet core. The friction sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t stop the soft, desperate sound that escaped your lips.

“Fucking hell,” Joel muttered, his voice low and thick with disbelief. His dark eyes flicked to your face, studying your side profile, your lips parted and your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “How’s it possible to be this wet?” he said, almost to himself, his tone rough, like he was mocking you for being so undone already.

You groaned, the heat in his voice igniting something primal in you. Your hips lifted instinctively, chasing the pressure of his fingers, desperate for more. He chuckled, low and rough, the sound vibrating through you like a current.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his tone mocking but laced with something darker, something hungrier. “Couldn’t even wait, huh? Drippin’ all over yourself like this. You really are just a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, your pride burning at his words but the ache between your thighs drowning out everything else. His thumb moved again, slower this time, teasing, torturous, as he watched you squirm beneath him. “Joel,” you breathed, his name slipping past your lips in a mix of frustration and desperation.

“Take ’em off,” Joel said, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver straight through you.

Your hands moved instantly, no hesitation, hooking into the waistband of your panties and sliding them down your legs, clutching the flimsy fabric in your hands, your body buzzing with a mix of anticipation and shame.

“Give ’em to me,” he said, holding out his hand.

You hesitated for a second, just a second, before you placed them in his palm. He didn’t even look at them, just shoved them into his back pocket like it was nothing. The action, casual and deliberate, made your cheeks burn.

“Pervert,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at him even as your stomach twisted in want.

“Hey,” he said sharply, his eyes narrowing. “Watch it. I can walk out that door right now. That what you want?”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. “No,” you said quickly, your voice soft and desperate as you shook your head.

“Good,” he said simply, his smirk returning as he leaned back slightly. “Sit back.”

The cool air hit you, and you flushed even hotter, knowing how exposed you were, how much of a mess you must look.

Joel’s gaze dropped between your thighs, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a sneer. “Jesus,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re drippin’ all over yourself.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers ghosted over your core, not quite touching but close enough to make you squirm.

“You touch yourself?” he asked, his tone low and almost mocking, his fingertips brushing just barely against your slick skin.

“Yeah,” you admitted, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as your hips twitched toward his hand.

He hummed, nodding slowly. “How much?” he asked, his voice thick, his fingers still teasing, never giving you what you wanted.

“Every night,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. You didn’t care how filthy you sounded, didn’t care how his lips curled into a smirk at your confession. You just needed him to touch you. “Every single night.”

“Christ,” Joel muttered, his fingers grazing you just enough to make your breath hitch. His eyes flicked back up to your face, dark and intense. “What do you think about?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest, before your gaze locked with his. “You,” you admitted, the word barely above a whisper. And then, before you could overthink it, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He stiffened for half a second, the shock evident, but then he relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut as he let you kiss him. That alone surprised you—Joel wasn’t the type to give, not like this. His lips were warm, firm, and they lingered against yours, almost tender in a way that made your chest ache.

“Hm,” he hummed when you pulled back, his eyes still half-lidded. “Sweet,” he said, the word muttered so quietly it felt like it wasn’t meant for you to hear.

A small smile tugged at your lips, the warmth spreading through you despite the tension still coiling in your stomach.

But Joel wasn’t one to stay soft for long. His smirk returned, sharp and teasing. “Still a fuckin’ brat,” he said, his voice low and rough. “And brats get punished.”

You groaned, the words sending a shiver through you as your hips lifted instinctively, begging for more of his touch. His dark laugh rumbled low in his chest, and he leaned back just enough to watch you squirm.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his tone dripping with condescension. “So desperate you don’t even know what to do with yourself.”

Your brows furrowed as you glared at him, frustration boiling over. “Joel—”

“I’ll do you one better,” he interrupted, sitting back slightly, his legs spreading slightly. His smirk deepened as he saw the confusion flicker across your face.

“Take my pants off,” he said simply, his voice commanding, like he didn’t expect you to argue.

Your breath caught, the tension in the room growing impossibly thicker as his words sank in. His gaze never left yours, heavy and unwavering, daring you to hesitate. But you didn’t. Your hands moved almost on their own, reaching for the button of his jeans, your fingers trembling as you fumbled with it.

Joel chuckled low and dark, his hands resting lazily on his thighs as he watched you. “That’s it,” he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. “Good girl.”

The praise made your heart stutter, your cheeks flushing as your hands trembled, tugging his jeans down slowly, the fabric dragging over his muscular thighs. Joel shifted slightly to help you, lifting his hips just enough, the casual dominance in the movement sending a thrill racing through you. He made it look effortless, like he was still in control even when you were the one undressing him.

Your hand moved instinctively to touch him, but his voice stopped you cold. “Nuh uh,” he said, his tone low and firm, a quiet command. His eyes darkened as he leaned back slightly, watching you. “Shirt off too,” he instructed, his voice steady but thick with anticipation.

Your breath hitched, and you hesitated for just a moment before obeying. Your shirt joined the pile of his clothes on the floor, leaving you bare before him. Joel’s eyes dragged over you slowly, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his teeth catching his bottom lip as his hands shot out, rough and deliberate. He grabbed your breasts, his large palms squeezing, his thumbs rolling over your sensitive nipples. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his voice low and full of reverence, though his touch was anything but gentle.

Your back arched instinctively into his hands, a gasp escaping your lips as the roughness of his calloused fingers sent shocks of heat spiraling through you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable, your entire body trembling under the weight of it all—the tension, the teasing, the slow build that had been driving you to the edge for what felt like hours.

“I need you,” you blurted, the words breaking free before you could stop them. Your voice cracked, raw with desperation. “I need you bad, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he muttered, his voice rougher now, low and dangerous, like he was savoring every second of your unraveling. “You that needy, huh?” He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your lips. His hand slid lower, gripping your waist firmly as he smirked again, this time sharper, hungrier. “Gonna cry for it, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, the tears threatening to spill as you nodded, your hands clutching at the fabric of the mattress beneath you. “Please,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I’m—I’m begging you, Joel.”

Joel exhaled slowly, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek as if he were testing you, seeing how far you could unravel before breaking completely. His eyes roamed your face, his gaze heavy and unrelenting. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low, almost to himself. “So desperate you’re fallin’ apart.”

His thumb caught the edge of a tear sliding down your cheek, and his smirk returned—soft but laced with condescension, sharp enough to make your stomach twist. “You’re a mess, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement, though there was something deeper, darker beneath it.

A shaky breath escaped your lips, your chest heaving as you tried—and failed—to hold back a sob. “Joel, please,” you whispered again, your voice breaking, trembling with need. You hated how small you sounded, but the ache inside you drowned out the embarrassment.

Joel’s eyes darkened, his thumb trailing down to press against your trembling bottom lip. He tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to stay locked with his. “Alright,” he said finally, his voice low and gravelly, the words drawn out slowly, like he wanted to savor the sound of them. “I’ll take care of you. That what my baby wants?”

You nodded frantically, tears spilling over as relief and anticipation coursed through you, lighting up every nerve in your body. His thumb lingered on your lip for a moment longer, pressing gently, teasingly, before he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice so soft it sent a fresh shiver down your spine. His lips brushed against your temple, and the warmth of his words melted into you.

“You wanna see me?” Joel asked, his voice dropping even lower, thick with teasing. “Or you wanna be on your knees?”

“Wanna see you,” you answered quickly, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, pleading, raw with need. “Please.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, his eyes dragging over you with that slow, deliberate intensity that made your skin burn. “Okay, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now but still carrying that rough, gravelly edge. “Lay back for me.”

You obeyed without hesitation, sinking into the mattress as your legs fell open, your chest rising and falling with anticipation. Your hands moved instinctively, reaching out to roam over his chest, your fingertips brushing against the heat of his skin. His muscles tensed under your touch as you brought one hand lower, trailing down his abdomen to the back of his thighs, desperate to pull him closer, to feel more of him.

Joel chuckled, the sound low and rich as his hand caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Be patient,” he drawled, his tone thick with amusement, his grip firm but not cruel. His free hand slid down your thigh, his thumb grazing the sensitive skin there in slow, teasing strokes that sent shivers racing through you. “I know you’re eager, darlin’, but I gotta take my time. Don’t wanna break ya.”

Your breath hitched, your body trembling beneath his touch as his words settled over you, calm and confident in a way that made your heart pound even harder. The ache between your thighs was unbearable now, your body so wound up you couldn’t think straight. “Joel,” you whispered, your voice shaky and desperate. “I’m ready. Please.”

He raised a brow, his smirk twisting into something wicked as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Oh, I know you are,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart, I don’t even need any spit.” His words were filthy, teasing, and they sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly.

And then, with no warning, Joel sunk into you in one smooth, deliberate motion, a deep, guttural groan rumbling from his chest as he pressed flush against you. The stretch, the fullness, the sheer intensity of him overwhelmed your senses, and a loud, unrestrained yelp tore from your throat. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, your cheeks burning hot with embarrassment.

“Nuh uh,” Joel said sharply, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away from your face. His dark eyes burned into yours, his voice low and rough, the command in his tone making your chest tighten. “Wanna hear those sweet noises, baby. Don’t you dare hide ’em from me.”

You whimpered, your mind spinning from the fullness, the stretch, the overwhelming intensity of him. “But… what about…” you stammered, your thoughts hazy and scattered, trying to cling to something, anything. What was her name? The thought flitted through your mind, faint and distant. It slipped from your lips before you could stop it, a whisper of a worry clinging to the back of your mind.

Joel stilled for half a second, his lips curling into a wicked grin, his amusement clear. “So cock drunk you forgot her fuckin’ name,” he murmured, his voice dripping with mockery, each word a sharp tease that only heightened the heat flooding your body.

And then, without warning, he pulled out completely, leaving you empty, the sudden loss of him making you gasp. Before you could even register the thought, he slammed back into you with a force that had you screaming, your back arching off the mattress as your nails raked down his shoulders, clinging to him like he was the only thing grounding you.

Joel laughed, low and dark, the sound vibrating through your chest as his breath fanned over your face. He leaned closer, his smirk sharp and cutting as his hips snapped against yours again, his movements deliberate and unrelenting. “Don’t you want her to hear ya?” he teased, his voice dripping with condescension and something darker, something possessive.

“Joel,” you gasped, the sound of his name raw and unrestrained as he drove into you, each thrust more intense than the last. His hands gripped your hips tightly, anchoring you to him as he chuckled at your reaction.

“Let her hear those pretty little screams, baby,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “Let her know I’m in your pussy, not hers.” His tone was cruelly teasing, but the heat in his words, in his eyes, made your entire body tremble, completely at his mercy.

Your breath hitched, a potent mix of embarrassment and raw, unrelenting desire coursing through you. Joel’s words were filthy, taunting, cutting straight through your defenses, but instead of pushing you away, they only made you cling to him harder. Your nails dug into his back as your body arched into him, every nerve ignited, desperate for more. His pace quickened, each thrust harder, more deliberate, his movements rough and dripping with possession.

“Bet you like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, each word a teasing caress against your ear. His lips brushed the shell of it, his breath hot and ragged. “You want her to be jealous? Want her to hear and know exactly who you belong to?” His hand slid down to grip your thigh, rough fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, driving himself deeper inside you. “Say it,” he growled, his voice dark and commanding. “Say you’re mine.”

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t form a single coherent thought beyond him—his body, his voice, the way he consumed you completely. The tension in your belly coiled tighter and tighter, ready to snap. “Yours,” you gasped, your voice cracking, trembling. “I’m yours, Joel.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, his eyes darkening with something primal. He leaned back just enough to look at you, his hand gripping your jaw firmly. “Open,” he ordered, his tone rough, leaving no room for hesitation.

You obeyed without question, your lips parting as your gaze locked on his, wide and eager. His smirk turned wicked, his hand tilting your chin as he spat into your mouth, slow and deliberate.

The act was filthy, raw, and utterly consuming, sending a fresh wave of heat crashing through your body. Humiliation and desire burned together, each feeding into the other until there was nothing left but the aching, desperate need for more.

“Fuck!” you screamed, your voice breaking, echoing through the room as your head fell back, your body trembling beneath him. Your eyes rolled with pleasure, the tension snapping in waves that left you gasping, completely at his mercy. Joel wasn’t satisfied with just having you; he wanted to take all of you. His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, strong and commanding as he pushed your legs up to your chest, spreading you even wider.

“Thereee ya go,” Joel teased, his voice rough and dripping with mocking satisfaction. His lips twisted into a smug smirk, his dark eyes locked onto yours as his hips rolled, his pace faltering just enough to make you squirm. As he pulled back, slick and glistening with your arousal, he chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you like a current. “So damn wet, I can’t even stay in,” he muttered, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

Without warning, he guided himself back inside, filling you again in one smooth, deliberate motion that left you gasping. The stretch, the fullness, was overwhelming, and a desperate moan ripped from your throat as he set a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping against yours with relentless force.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room, loud and obscene, mingling with your cries and Joel’s deep, gravelly grunts. His breath was hot and heavy against your ear, his chest pressing against yours as he drove into you, each thrust dragging you closer to the edge again.

“You feel me, baby?” he growled, his voice low and rough, vibrating against your neck. His scruff scratched against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine, your body arching beneath him as you clawed at his back. Your nails raked across his skin, leaving angry red trails in their wake, but Joel didn’t flinch. If anything, it only seemed to spur him on.

“All in here,” he murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding as his hand slid down your stomach. His palm pressed firmly against you, his dark eyes flicking between your flushed face and the place where your bodies met. “Feel that?” he muttered, his tone thick with pride and hunger. “That’s me, baby. All of me, deep inside you.”

You whimpered, your hips lifting desperately to meet his thrusts, each movement of his body sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. Joel braced himself on one elbow, his chest brushing against yours as his free hand moved between your thighs. His fingers found your clit with ease, and he began rubbing harshly, no hesitation, no regard for how sensitive you were. The intensity made you scream, your vision going white as your body jerked beneath him.

“Joel,” you gasped, his name falling from your lips in a trembling plea, the sensation overwhelming you, consuming you whole.

Your thoughts scattered like ash in the wind as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, his relentless touch unraveling you piece by piece. His rough hands anchored you, grounding you to the bed even as his gruff voice pulled you further under his control. You were pliant, trembling, utterly at his mercy, and all you could do was hold on as he drove you past every limit you thought you had.

“I—I’m gonna cum,” you screamed, your voice cracking, trembling with the weight of it. Your body tightened around him, the pleasure building higher and higher, unbearably close to breaking.

Joel’s lips curled into a wicked smirk, his thrusts becoming even more relentless, faster, deeper, like he was chasing his own edge just as much as he was pushing you toward yours. “Good,” he growled, his voice low and rough, vibrating against your ear like a promise. “Go on, baby. Cum for me. And make sure she hears you.”

“There you go, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with lust and satisfaction. “Cum on my cock. Fuck, milk my cock, baby. That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

The filthy words broke you completely. “Joel,” you cried, your voice cracking as the tension snapped, the pleasure ripping through you like a tidal wave. Your body arched off the bed, your nails biting into his skin as your cries filled the room, raw and unrestrained. Every nerve in your body was alight, the sensation so intense it bordered on too much, yet you couldn’t get enough.

Joel moved quickly, rolling onto his back with a fluid motion, his chest heaving as he looked up at you. His hand reached for yours, pulling it toward him with a firm, commanding grip. “Stroke me,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, rough from the strain of holding back. His dark, hungry eyes locked on yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I’m close.”

Your body was still trembling from your release, weak and unsteady, but you obeyed him without hesitation. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you reached for him, your fingers wrapping around his length. He hissed through his teeth, his hips jerking upward at the first touch, the reaction sending a thrill through you.

You started slow, dragging your hand up and down, your thumb brushing over the head with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch. Joel’s grunts and muttered curses filled the room, spurring you on as you quickened your pace. His head tipped back slightly, his neck exposed, his lips parted as he let out a low, drawn-out moan that made your thighs clench.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, surprising yourself—and him. For a moment, he froze, his eyes flicking open. But then he gave in, his mouth moving against yours in a kiss that was hot and sensual, his lips rough but responsive. The taste of him, the way he let you take control, sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

Your strokes quickened, your hand moving with more purpose now, your fingers tightening around him. Joel’s hips jerked in time with your movements, his groans growing louder, deeper, until his head fell back against the pillow. His jaw clenched, a guttural sound tearing from his throat as his body tensed.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his voice rough and raw, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him as he let go. His eyes fluttered shut, his breath uneven as he sat up suddenly, shifting onto his knees. With one final moan—your name tumbling from his lips like a prayer—he came, his release painting your stomach in warm, messy streaks.

Joel stayed there for a moment, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. His eyes remained closed, his lips slightly parted, and for once, he looked completely undone—vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. It was mesmerizing, the way his defenses slipped, the way he seemed to let himself just feel.

You smiled at him, tender despite the heat still coursing through you. Joel’s eyes opened slowly, his gaze locking on yours, and for a moment, you thought he might soften. But instead, he leaned forward, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he kissed you roughly. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that hadn’t waned, a growl rumbling deep in his chest as he pulled you closer. It wasn’t sweet or soft—it was commanding, possessive, like he was staking his claim all over again.

You started to lean back, your chest heaving, ready to catch your breath. But Joel wasn’t done with you.

“Nuh uh,” he said suddenly, his voice steady and firm, a sharp contrast to the rawness from moments before. His hand caught your wrist, his grip firm as he pulled you upright, drawing you back into his control. “Be a good girl for me,” he said, his voice low and rough, laced with authority. “Go out there and get us some water.”

You blinked at him, dazed and still catching up, confusion flooding your mind as you started to reach for your discarded clothes. “Okay,” you murmured, your hand brushing against your shirt. But before you could grab it, Joel’s hand shot out again, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you cold.

“No,” he said sharply, his voice low and commanding. His dark eyes gleamed with something wicked, a dangerous amusement that sent a shiver down your spine. His lips curled into a smug, teasing smirk as he tilted his head toward the door. “You’re goin’ out there butt naked, baby, with my cum all over your tummy.”

Your eyes widened, heat flooding your cheeks as your stomach flipped with a potent mix of embarrassment and disbelief. “What?” you practically squeaked, your voice pitching higher. “Joel, are you serious?”

Joel leaned back against the headboard, his smirk widening, dripping with smug satisfaction as he spread his arms lazily, utterly at ease. He looked at you like you were a challenge he’d already conquered, his eyes dark and unrelenting. “You wanted her to know you’re mine, didn’t you?” he drawled, his voice slow, mocking, every word cutting into your resolve. “Well, go on, then. Let her see where I just came.”

The heat in your cheeks burned impossibly hotter, your body stiffening as his words sank in, settling heavy in your chest. Humiliation twisted inside you, curling around the raw, unrelenting need he’d left you drowning in. You wanted to argue, to snap back at him, to yell something defiant—but the way he looked at you, so commanding, so utterly unapologetic, made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t ignore. His confidence was maddening, overwhelming, yet it drew you in like a magnet.

Your breath hitched as you stood there, frozen, your mind spinning with indecision. And yet, deep down, you already knew. You’d do it. Because he asked. Because it was Joel. Because the way his voice dropped, low and full of authority, sent shivers down your spine. And because, in the end, you wanted her to know just as much as he did.

You hesitated at the door, your heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else. Each beat felt like it might shake your body apart, your legs trembling as you fought to muster the courage to take the next step. Behind you, Joel leaned back further, watching you with that maddening, infuriating smirk, his gaze heavy, unrelenting, and impossibly smug. He was waiting, savoring the moment, dragging it out just to see you squirm.

“Go on, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low, honeyed drawl that sent a fresh wave of heat through your body. “Let her see.”

His words were slow, deliberate, and they left no room for disobedience. Your breath caught, and despite the knot of humiliation twisting in your chest, you reached for the doorknob. The cool metal was grounding, but it did nothing to stop the heat crawling up your neck as you pushed the door open and stepped out.

Swallowing hard, you pushed the door open and stepped out, your skin flushing hot as the cool air of the main room hit your bare body. You prayed—begged—that Tess would be asleep, her usual scowl absent, but of course, the universe wasn’t that kind. She was right there, sitting on the couch, her arms crossed and her jaw set like she’d been expecting this exact moment. Her fiery eyes locked on you the second you stepped into view.

You could feel the weight of her glare, sharp enough to cut, as you walked toward the kitchen. Each step felt agonizingly slow, your bare feet padding against the floor as your tits bounced slightly with every movement. Joel’s release still slicked across your stomach, glinting faintly in the dim light, and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Tess’s lips pressed into a thin, hard line, her nostrils flaring as she stared at you, her gaze flicking from your flushed face to your exposed chest to the mess on your skin. The tension in the room was suffocating, thick enough to choke on, but you kept moving, refusing to meet her eyes. Your legs felt weak, your breath shallow, and every inch of your body burned under her scrutiny.

As you reached the kitchen, fumbling for a glass of water with trembling hands, you could feel Joel’s presence even from behind the closed door. He was enjoying this—every second of it.

You could practically hear Joel’s low chuckle echoing in your head, dripping with smug satisfaction. The weight of his gaze lingered on your bare back even from behind the closed door, the unspoken command still tethering you to him. He knew exactly what he was doing—forcing you to obey, knowing it would leave Tess seething with jealousy. It was all a game to him, and the thought only made the knot in your stomach tighten.

“You’re a whore,” Tess spat, her voice cutting through the tense silence like a blade.

You froze for half a second, your fingers tightening around the glass as your throat bobbed with a hard swallow.

But you didn’t look at her. You didn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, you poured the water calmly, the sound of it filling the suffocating silence, and then turned on your heel, walking back toward the bedroom with your head held high.

Her eyes burned into your back as you left, the weight of her words pressing against you like a boulder. But all you could hear in your mind was Joel’s voice, smooth and commanding, telling you what to do, and you clung to it like a lifeline.

When you stepped back into the room, shutting the door firmly behind you, Joel was right where you left him—lounging on the mattress, his cock still out, his head tipped back like he had all the time in the world. The sight of him sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, his relaxed confidence utterly maddening and undeniably magnetic. His dark eyes flicked to the glass in your hand, and a slow, pleased smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Good girl,” he drawled, his voice rough and full of pride. The praise made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t deny, even as your cheeks burned. He sat up slightly, one arm bracing him against the mattress as he watched you cross the room, his gaze trailing over every inch of your exposed skin. He took his time, his eyes heavy and unrelenting, like he was savoring the view.

“She say anything?” Joel asked, his tone casual, but his eyes gave him away—dark, sharp, with a glint of knowing amusement that made your stomach flip. He leaned back slightly, his broad shoulders relaxing against the headboard as if he had all the time in the world.

You hesitated, your throat tightening as the memory of Tess’s venomous words replayed in your head. Joel noticed, of course—he always did. His brow lifted, his smirk twisting into something sharper, darker. He reached for the glass in your hands, taking it from you with deliberate ease before guiding you down onto the mattress. The movement was firm yet unhurried, his grip on you steady.

“She call you somethin’?” he pressed, his voice dripping with mock curiosity, like he already knew the answer. He set the glass aside and grabbed an old rag, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as he wiped the remnants of his release from your stomach. The action, almost tender, sent shivers through you, your skin hypersensitive under his touch. His fingers tapped lazily against his thigh, waiting. “Lemme guess. A whore?”

Your cheeks burned, and you glanced down, unable to meet his gaze, your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah,” you muttered.

Joel’s chuckle was low and rough, vibrating through the room and settling in your chest. It wasn’t a comforting sound; it was smug, knowing, dripping with the satisfaction of being right. “Course she did,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. His smirk deepened as his hands found your thighs, pulling you closer, his thumbs brushing over your skin. “Think she’s a bit jealous.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as his grip tightened, grounding you. His smirk turned wicked, his eyes glinting with something darker, something possessive. “But she’s right about one thing,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, rougher, each word sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. “You’re my whore. Aren’t you?”

The weight of his gaze burned through you, setting every nerve in your body alight. Your chest tightened, the tension unraveling as you nodded, your body trembling under the force of his presence. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—there was only him. His smirk widened at your silent admission, his hands sliding further up your thighs, gripping you firmly.

“Good girl,” he hummed, his voice softer now, but no less commanding. He leaned closer, his breath hot against your lips as his fingers dug into your skin. “You ready for me again?”

The question made your breath hitch, your body already aching with anticipation. You nodded frantically, your lips parting as your heart pounded against your ribs. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice breaking, raw with need.

Joel’s smirk deepened, his lips brushing against your jaw as he murmured, “That’s my girl. Let’s see just how much you can take.” And with that, he pushed you back onto the mattress, his hands pinning you down as he took control all over again, his dominance overwhelming and addictive.

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airybcby · 1 day ago

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જ⁀♡⊹｡° i'd choose you and me...religiously

♡ a/n — for my new childhood friends to lovers series :)

♡ word count — 2.3k

♡ content — karasu tabito x fem! reader, fem! reader, childhood friends to lovers, reader is very normal and quiet, goes through 3rd grade to the U-20 vs Blue Lock game, reader doesn't understand soccer, cuddling, kissing, some cussing

♡ synopsis — Karasu Tabito has always been moved by the ordinary things in life. Your love, your laugh, just you, so ordinary because you just...fit in his life so perfectly.

Tabito Karasu had always been moved by ordinary things. The way rain left trails on windows, the sound of soccer cleats tapping against pavement, the smell of freshly cut grass on the field. Ordinary moments stayed with him long after they’d passed, as if they were somehow more precious than the extraordinary ones.

And then, there was you.

He noticed you before he ever talked to you, always quiet and off to the side, a book or sketchpad in your hands while the other kids played and shouted around you. You weren’t like the rest of them—you weren’t loud, flashy, or attention-seeking. To most, you might have seemed unremarkable.

But to Tabito, you were something special.

He just didn’t realize it until the day he saw you crying.

The afternoon sun was bright and unforgiving, casting sharp shadows on the concrete playground. Tabito was sitting on a bench, juggling a soccer ball between his feet, when he noticed the commotion.

A group of kids stood in a semi-circle around you, taunting you about being “too quiet” and “weird.” You didn’t say anything in return, but your teary eyes and the way you hugged your knees gave everything away.

Before he could think twice, Tabito was on his feet, marching over.

“Hey!” he barked, startling the group. He planted himself between you and them, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he glared them down. “Why don’t you piss off and leave her alone?”

The kids hesitated, their bravado faltering under his sharp gaze. Eventually, one muttered something under their breath before they all dispersed.

He turned back to you, his face softening. “You okay?”

You nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. “Thanks...”

He grinned, crouching beside you. “No problem. But you owe me big time. The teacher’s totally gonna yell at me for this one.”

Sure enough, he was called out for his language later, but he didn’t care. By then, the two of you had already cemented an unspoken bond.

From that day on, Tabito Karasu became your first—and only—friend.

By the time junior high rolled around, Tabito had become a name everyone knew. He was a rising soccer star, his talent and charisma drawing people to him like moths to a flame. But no matter how busy his life got, he always made time for you.

You, on the other hand, stayed much the same. You kept to yourself, stayed out of the spotlight, and quietly supported him from the sidelines. Every game he played, you were there, clapping and cheering along with the crowd—even if you didn’t fully understand the rules.

“You seriously don’t get it?” Tabito asked one evening, his breath visible in the crisp autumn air as the two of you walked home.

He had just finished explaining the mechanics of offside for the fifth time.

“I mean... I get that the ball should go in the net,” you said hesitantly. “But everything else is... kind of fuzzy.”

Tabito groaned dramatically, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s not that hard! Okay, think of it like chess—”

“Tabito, I don’t know how to play chess.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you with exaggerated disbelief. “You’re kidding me. You’ve been watching my games for years, and you don’t even know what’s happening?”

“I know you’re good,” you offered, laughing. “That’s all that matters, right?”

He sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.”

By high school, Tabito had become your anchor, and you had become his.

No matter how many people surrounded him or how many girls vied for his attention, he always found his way back to you. He walked you to your classes, saved you a spot at lunch, and invited you over to his house whenever your parents were working late.

One night, after a particularly heavy rainstorm, you ended up staying at his place again. His mom gave you a pillow and blanket for the floor in his room, but when you lay down, the hardwood felt unbearably cold.

“You seriously gonna sleep there?” Tabito asked from his bed, leaning over the edge to look at you.

“Where else would I sleep?”

He rolled his eyes. “Here. Come on.”

“Tabito, your mom said—”

“The floor’s freezing. Just get up here.”

You hesitated, but the warmth in his voice and the ease of his grin convinced you. Moments later, you were lying beside him, your head resting on his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

“This is too close,” you muttered, though you made no effort to move even though there was plenty of room on his bed.

“Shut up,” he replied, laughing softly.

After a long silence, you spoke again. “Someone asked me what my name was today. We’ve been going to school together since junior high, and they didn’t know my name.”

Tabito’s hand slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. “That’s their loss,” he murmured. “You’re unforgettable.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your heart beating faster than it should have. “Tabito—”

Before you could ask what he meant, his lips were on yours.

When he pulled back, you opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and steady.

“I don’t care what happened. I’d never forget your name.” He kissed you again. “Your face.” Another kiss. “Your goddamn voice.”

You stared at him, your cheeks burning, and he grinned. “You’re mine, okay? Have been for a while.”

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the window as Tabito’s mom opened the door. She froze, her eyes widening at the sight of the two of you curled up together in his bed.

“Tabito Karasu!”

Breakfast was... awkward. Over toast and eggs, you and Tabito sheepishly explained your newly minted relationship, only to be rewarded with an impromptu birds-and-the-bees talk.

Tabito groaned, hiding his face in his hands while you tried—and failed—not to laugh.

The letter came during your senior year.

You sat under a tree in the park, the letter in your lap as Tabito leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky.

“This is it,” he said softly. “This is how I make it big.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m proud of you.”

His grin faltered when he looked at you. “You don’t look proud.”

“I am,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “I just... I’ll miss you.”

“Hey,” he said, reaching over to take your hand. “It’s not forever. Just until I make it. Then I’m coming back for you.”

You knew he would, because when Karasu set his mind on something, he would get to it, no matter what it took.

You just wished that he wouldn't have to leave for an uncertain amount of time, but you wouldn't say that. He was still yours, always would be, no matter how long you were apart.

When Tabito left for Blue Lock, he packed light—just the essentials. But tucked carefully at the bottom of his bag was something that wasn’t on any checklist: a collection of your letters.

Some were filled with words of encouragement, like the time you’d written after his first big loss, telling him that failure didn’t define him and that he’d always be a winner in your eyes. Others were playful, teasing him about his ego while reminding him to eat properly and not slack off during training. And then there were the ones you wrote late at night, when the ache of missing him felt too heavy to ignore. Those letters carried lipstick marks on the edges, small imprints of your love pressed onto the paper as if they could somehow close the distance between you.

He read those letters often. Whenever the loneliness crept in or the pressure of Blue Lock’s brutal competition threatened to overwhelm him, he would pull one out, smoothing the creases and letting your words fill the silence. Your voice, even through ink and paper, was his anchor.

One day, during a rare quiet moment in the dorms, Otoya noticed one of the letters poking out of Tabito’s duffel bag. Curiosity piqued, he reached over and grabbed one, holding it up with a mischievous grin. “What’s this?”

Tabito, who had been lounging on his bed, immediately sat up. His sharp glare shot across the room like a warning. “Put it down, Otoya.”

But Otoya, ever the instigator, was already opening it. “Aw, come on, don’t be so uptight—” His eyes scanned the first few lines before he froze, his smirk widening. “Oh-ho, what’s this? A girlfriend?”

Tabito was on his feet in an instant, snatching the letter back with a scowl. “None of your business.”

Otoya leaned back, hands raised in mock surrender, but his laughter rang out, echoing in the small dorm room. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Karasu. You’ve got that whole ‘too cool for relationships’ vibe going on, but here you are, all sentimental. Lipstick marks, too? Damn, she’s really got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”

Tabito stuffed the letter into his bag, his jaw tight. He didn’t bother responding to the teasing; it wasn’t worth his energy. Instead, he turned his back to Otoya, muttering under his breath, “Shut up.”

But as Otoya’s laughter died down, Tabito’s fingers brushed the edges of the letter. He could feel the faint ridges of your handwriting beneath the paper, the weight of your love in every stroke of the pen.

A small smile tugged at his lips, one he didn’t let Otoya see.

Because Otoya was wrong about one thing: you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger. No, it was deeper than that. You were his lifeline, his reminder of everything waiting for him back home.

The teasing didn’t matter. The competition didn’t matter. What mattered was the thought of you—always cheering him on, always believing in him.

One day, he promised himself. One day, he’d read those letters with you sitting beside him, not miles apart. And when that day came, he’d show you just how much your words, your love, had carried him through.

For now, though, he folded the letter and placed it carefully back in his bag, ready to fight his way to that future.

Watching the Blue Lock team play against the U-20 team almost put you into an early grave, you swear, Blue Lock won, of course. ( You totally weren't praying on some of the U-20 team's downfall during the game...not at all)

The crowd’s roar was deafening, a wave of cheers and chants reverberating through the stadium. You stood on the sidelines, heart pounding as the Blue Lock team celebrated their hard-fought victory on the field.

You had come all this way to watch him, to see for yourself just how much he’d grown. And yet, even after all these years of supporting him, nothing had prepared you for this moment.

Your eyes darted across the players, searching, until—suddenly—you felt arms wrap tightly around your waist. Your feet left the ground as you were spun around, a loud gasp escaping your lips.

“Tabito!” you exclaimed, laughter bubbling out of you.

When he finally set you back down, you turned to see his grinning face, his hair damp with sweat and a few stray blades of grass stuck to his jersey. He looked different—stronger, sharper, more determined—but when his eyes met yours, the warmth in them hadn’t changed one bit.

“You did it!” you said, reaching out to touch his face as if to make sure he was real. “You actually did it.”

“Of course I did,” he replied, his tone cocky, but his grin softened when his hand came up to cup yours. “I told you I would, didn’t I?”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as pride swelled in your chest. But before you could say anything else, the words you’d been holding back for years tumbled out:

“Tabito, I finally got it today!”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Got what?”

“Soccer!” you blurted, your voice trembling with excitement. “I mean, okay, maybe not all of it, but at the kickoff, I just... I got it! I understood why you love it so much. I felt it. When the game started, I was so excited I almost screamed! And when you got close to the goal, I was on the edge of my seat. I wanted you to score so badly.”

His eyes widened in surprise before his expression melted into something softer, something that made your heart ache in the best way. “You... really mean that?”

“Yes!” you said, gripping the front of his jersey like you’d never let him go. “I finally understood why you’ve worked so hard, why this means so much to you. It’s amazing, Tabito. You’re amazing.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t find the words. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he pulled you into another spin, your laughter echoing above the noise of the crowd.

When he set you down again, he didn’t hesitate—his lips found yours, and the world fell away.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re the one who’s amazing,” he whispered. “And you know what? That was the only goal I needed today—hearing you say that.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you wiped away a stray tear. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” you admitted, your voice barely audible over the roar of the stadium.

He glanced around, the chaos of victory still unfolding behind him, but all his focus was on you. “Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Will you follow me? No matter where this takes me?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. “Anywhere. Always.”

His grin returned, wider than ever, and he kissed you again, as if sealing a promise. And as the stadium lights bathed you both in a golden glow, you knew you’d never stop cheering for him—on the field or off.

Karasu Tabito has always been moved by the ordinary things in life. Your love, your laugh, just you, so ordinary because you just...fit in his life so perfectly.

i take him to my pent house and i FREAK IT

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated

#★ · airybcbyy #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #airy posts #karasu x reader #karasu tabito #tabito karasu #tabito karasu x reader #tabito x reader #bllk karasu #bllk tabito karasu #blue lock karasu #blue lock tabito karasu

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keeryhours · 2 days ago

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real love, baby - chapter one

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

You get some life changing news, and telling Billy doesn’t go as planned.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, angst

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N:

Yay a new series! I’ve been dying to write for Billy again. I hope you guys like this, your comments and support mean the world to me.

When Billy had arrived at Hawkins High for the first time, roaring into the parking lot in his blue Camaro and wearing the tightest jeans known to man, he had caught the attention of every girl in school.

Including you.

You weren’t exactly…popular. Actually, you were considered a freak. Best friends with Eddie Munson and proud member of the Hellfire club, you caught a lot of shit from your classmates. You knew from the second you saw Billy Hargrove that you never had a chance.

You had never been more surprised to be wrong.

You knew Billy had a reputation for going through girls like crazy, sleeping with them and leaving them high and dry. Yet you still found yourself falling for him. And when he approached you and asked you out, you said yes embarrassingly fast.

“Asking you out” ended up being a late night trip to Lover’s Lake, making out before moving into the backseat and letting him fuck you. That might sound crude, but there was no better way to describe it. It certainly wasn’t making love.

Your late night visits with Billy became a regular thing. It was kept quiet - Billy didn’t tell anyone, and he acted like he didn’t know you at school. The only person who knew was Eddie, because he was your best friend in the world and you told him everything. He did not approve, but he wasn’t about to tell you how to live your life. He was just scared you’d get hurt.

Which, of course, you inevitably did. But we’ll get to that.

You held out hope that one day Billy might see you as more than a secret hookup, that he might take you out on an actual date and show you off at school, but you knew those were just dreams. Deep down, you knew Billy was embarrassed to be seen with you. He showed up at Hawkins High and became the most popular guy in school - he wasn’t about to let anyone know he was secretly sleeping with The Freak.

This routine worked out for a while. That is, until you had the realization you had skipped your period while you were throwing your guts up before school one morning. Ice cold fear struck into your heart, and you realized you had really fucked up.

That day you went to school looking nearly as bad as you felt. Carol Perkins giggled as you passed her in the hallway, whispering something to Heather Holloway. You had too much on your mind to care. Billy gave you a strange look when he saw you, but didn’t say anything.

You found Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Grant at your usual spot in the cafeteria. You walked over and took a seat, not even bothering to get anything to eat because it would just come back up anyway.

Eddie did a double take when he saw you. “Jesus,” he said, taking in your messy hair, bloodshot eyes and melancholy expression. “What happened to you?”

The other guys were deep in conversation about the latest campaign. You leaned closer to Eddie. “I skipped my period. And now I’m getting sick.”

Eddie just blinked at you. He looked like he didnt understand - you saw the moment the realization dawned on him. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking down at the table. “Oh, shit.”

“Did you…take a test?” Eddie whispered, leaning in closer to you.

“No.” You picked at a loose string on the sleeve of your hoodie. “I figured I would go to the doctor so I don’t fuck it up.”

Eddie looked around the cafeteria before his eyes landed on you again. “Do you want me to take you?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze. “You would do that?”

Eddie smiled. “Well, yeah, of course. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna make you go alone.”

You felt relieved to hear that. This was scary enough without having to go through it all alone. “I don’t know how I would have even made it there by myself without alerting my parents anyway.”

“Eddie Munson chauffeur, at your service,” he said with a bow. You snorted.

“Thanks, Eds.”

That evening after school you rushed home before your parents could get there and picked up the phone. You dialed the number for your primary care doctor’s office with shaking hands and made the appointment, not telling the receptionist over the phone what it was for. You figured you’d deal with that when you got there.

The next day passed in a blur. You looked presentable at least, but you had to leave class twice to go throw up in the bathroom. Billy gave you a concerned look when he saw you in the hallway again, but you ignored him.

After school you met Eddie at his van. He opened the passenger side door for you - “My lady,” he said with a dramatic bow - before jumping in the driver’s seat and starting up the old vehicle. You noticed Billy watching you from his Camaro where he waited for his younger sister.

Eddie blasted music over the radio while you drove. It made you feel better because you weren’t in the mood for conversation. The butterflies in your stomach made you feel like you could throw up again. You took deep breaths as he drove to keep the nausea under control. Eddie always drove like a maniac.

He pulled into the parking lot of the doctor’s office, some older ladies standing by their cars giving you a dirty look as the van tore into the parking lot blasting Metallica. Eddie didn’t notice.

He walked with you into the office, taking a seat in the waiting room while you went to reception to check in. You gave the receptionist your name, and she handed you a clipboard and pen and told you to take a seat.

The questions on the forms were standard. Your personal information, health history, medications, etc. By the time you finished with it, a nurse was opening the door and calling your name. Eddie squeezed your knee before you stood, letting you know he was here for support and would be right where you left him.

The nurse had you do the usual tasks - your weight and height, pee in a cup, and they took some blood samples. You waited in the exam room for the doctor, kicking your feet as you sat on the tall table. You felt more like a child than you had in the past few years.

When the doctor walked in carrying a clipboard and saying your name, you felt like you could throw up for the millionth time. He looked at you solemnly, and you knew it wasn’t going to be good news.

“Your pregnancy test came back positive,” he said. “Based on your bloodwork, I would estimate you at about 6 weeks.”

The room spun around you. You suddenly felt way too hot and claustrophobic in this tiny room. You wished you had asked Eddie to come back with you. You felt incredibly dizzy, like you could pass out. This was not happening. It was not happening.

“You’ll need to start taking prenatal vitamins,” he continued, oblivious to your internal panic. “I’ll give you some brochures with information and resources.”

You left the doctor’s office with a handful of pamphlets on pregnancy, birth, babies, and motherhood. Your face was white as a ghost, and Eddie clocked it the second you walked back into the waiting room.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing as you approached him and wrapping you in a tight hug. The tears fell as you buried your face in his chest. He stroked your hair, whispering comforting words in your ear. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out. You’re gonna be okay.”

Eddie helped you walk back out to the van on shaking legs. You couldn’t stop the tears now. Your life was over. Billy was never going to want to stick around for this.

Oh, god. Billy.

You didn’t even want to tell him. It was going to be a disaster. He was already embarrassed for anyone to know you were hooking up, but for the whole school to know he had gotten you pregnant? He would never allow that.

You were on your own.

Fuck.

You wanted to skip school, but your parents weren’t buying the “I’m sick” excuse. Of course it was the one morning you weren’t throwing up everything you’d eaten the night before. You got yourself together as much as you could, dressing yourself in a band tee and your favorite ripped jeans.

Eddie stayed by your side as much as he could at school. He met you in front of the school and walked you inside to your first class. You were grateful for his support.

It was halfway through first period when the nausea hit you again. Your hand shot up, asking “Can I go to the restroom?” and then sprinting out of the room before you even got a response. You barely made it to the bathroom in time, locking yourself in a stall and falling to your knees as you threw up.

When you were done, your eyes were watering. You grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your face, flushing the toilet and standing up shakily. You straightened your clothes and unlocked the stall door, walking out into the bathroom.

Only to see Carol Perkins, of all people.

She gave you a smug smile, tucking some of her curls behind her ear. “Hope you feel better, Freak.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past her back into the hall, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach, the voice in your head telling you this is very, very bad.

You were surprised that nothing seemed to come of it as you moved on to your next classes. By the time you went to lunch, you were wondering if maybe she just kept it to herself for once.

That bubble was popped by Gareth Emerson.

The second you and Eddie placed your trays down at your usual spots, all the boys looked up at you. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant all looked at you with pity, which made your stomach twist into knots.

“…What?” You asked hesitantly, your blood running cold.

Gareth looked at Eddie, then back to you. “Uh…Carol Perkins is telling everyone you’re pregnant.”

If you weren’t already nauseous, you certainly were now. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your hands gripped onto your tray tightly as you tried to focus and calm yourself, but it wasn’t working. Your breaths were coming in shorter, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs.

The feeling of Eddie’s hand grabbing your arm brought you out of it. His rings were cold against your skin, grounding you to reality. Your reality wasn’t that great, though.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Jeff asked.

“It’s not…true, is it?” Gareth asked, his eyebrows raised.

You burst into tears. You couldn’t help it. You covered your face with your hands, crying your eyes out. This seriously could not be happening like this. You knew it would come out eventually - I mean, you could only hide it for so long - but you weren’t ready for it now. You’d only had one night to wrap your head around it yourself.

“Oh god,” Gareth said. “It is true.”

Eddie pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back and giving Gareth a dirty look over the top of your head. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Calm down.”

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed into his shirt. “Everyone knows. That means Billy’s heard. The whole school has heard. My life here was shitty enough, this is a whole other level.”

“Wait, Billy?” Gareth said, exchanging a look with Jeff and Grant. “Billy Hargrove?”

Eddie gave him another look. He stroked your hair, the soothing gesture helping to calm your racing heart. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Billy flicked the ash off his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. He leaned against his car, talking with Tommy Hagan. He was just about to leave when Carol came walking over, smiling like she knew something they didn’t.

“Hey baby,” Tommy greeted her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Have you guys heard?” Carol asked, like she couldn’t wait to say whatever she knew. Billy wasn’t particularly interested, dragging on his cigarette one more time.

Tommy took the bait, however. “About what?”

When it was your name that came out of Carol’s mouth, it grabbed Billy’s attention fully. He glanced up at Carol nonchalantly, but he was listening intently.

“What about that Freak?” Tommy asked with a laugh.

Carol giggled. “She’s pregnant. I caught her throwing up in the bathroom during first period.”

Billy felt sick to his stomach. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, stubbing it out with his boot. “No way that’s true.”

“Why?” Carol asked, furrowing her eyebrows at Billy.

Because you would have told him, right? And he always used a condom. There was no way. “That Freak? No way she’s getting any action.”

Carol and Tommy laughed like Billy had said the funniest thing they’d ever heard. “I don’t know though,” Carol said, “Tina said she’s been running out of class to go to the bathroom all week. She’s definitely knocked up. It’s probably Munson’s. Two freaks in love.” Carol giggled, and Tommy started laughing again.

Billy forced himself to laugh, but nothing was funny. He wanted to throw up himself. “Hey, I left something in my locker. I’ll see you guys later.” He pushed off his car and walked back into the school.

He had to find you. He had to find out what the hell was going on.

You closed your locker as you got the last book you needed for your homework. You had waited until most of your classmates had left, the hallway deserted. The looks from your classmates all day had been enough. You shoved your stuff into your backpack, preparing to leave to meet Eddie at his van.

As you were walking down the hall, the doors opened and you saw Billy walking towards you. You felt like turning and running the other way. As he reached you, he nodded towards an empty classroom.

You thought about ignoring him, about leaving and letting Eddie take you home and maybe transferring schools and never seeing any of these people again. Instead, you followed him into the classroom.

Inside the empty room, Billy was pacing, running his hand through his dirty blonde curls. Your stomach hurt as you closed and locked the door behind you. When you reached him Billy spun on you, his eyes wild.

“Are you pregnant?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. This was not how you wanted him to find out. You thought you’d have more time, time to think about what to say and how exactly to break the news. Fucking Carol Perkins.

“Yes,” you said, opening your eyes to look at Billy.

He looked horrified. “You’re- it- it’s…mine?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slowly. “Yeah. It’s yours.”

Billy let out a rush of air. He started combing his fingers through his mullet again, pacing back and forth in front of you. “I- we- there’s just no fucking way. I used a condom every time.”

“Condoms can fail, Billy-“

“Bullshit,” he said. “I mean, yeah, but it’s so rare. There’s…there’s no fucking way you’re- pregnant with my kid.”

“You’re the only person I’ve slept with,” you reminded him, your voice small. You knew you weren’t the only girl he slept with. “And I went to the doctor. They did blood work. I’m definitely…pregnant.” The word was still hard to say.

Billy shook his head. “You- this is fucking insane. I’m not raising some kid.”

Your stomach dropped. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” he breathed out another rush of air. “I’m not doing this. Whatever you want from me, I’m not doing it. I’m not ruining my life to raise a kid.”

The tears welled up in your eyes. “So you’re saying you’re abandoning us.”

Billy scoffed. “‘Abandoning.’ I have more to live for than this. I was gonna…I was gonna get out of here.” He laughed humorlessly. “I was gonna get the fuck out of this shithole town. I was gonna go back to California. I…” He shook his head. “I’m not doing this. I’ll give you money for an abortion, I’ll take you to get it, whatever. But I’m not doing this.”

And with that he left, slamming the classroom door behind him and leaving you alone.

The tears really fell then. It was worse than you imagined. You were really all alone in this. Just you…and your baby.

On your own.

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