#the third fic explains everything

[myokk]

WIP day💓

Thank you so much for the tags @sage-pages @okeydokeylackey @amethystandemma 🥹🫰

I honestly WASNT going to post any wips bc you are all BLEEDING ME DRY !!!! But actually you know what? I do have a few more😌

“I,” he says again, looking down at her, his warm breath fanning across her face, “cant get you out of my damn mind. You’re always there, and it’s…”

She feels his words tremble down her face, slide down her neck; she shivers. In fear? In anticipation? Heat pools deep in her stomach at their intense eye contact, at the fact his mouth is mere inches from hers, the fact that he’s looking at her like that.

Like he wants to devour her.

And then a really fast sketch thst I think I will color digitally🙏

Sebastian doesn’t get any studying done really bc she’s actually so annoying and needy🤭

No pressure tags🫶🫶🫶 @anto-pops @starry-slithers @bassicallymaestra @holdmymallowsweet @morelikeravenbore @gothic-lottie @writing-intheundercroft @rosehp @ravenwind-75 and genuinely anyone else who wants to share wip!! But this has been going around way too much these days so i understand if there aren’t any wips to share at the moment😆

[wintrbears]

Cradle Robbers | JJK (MASTERPOST)

Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends since diapers, and one day you decide to hook up for the fun of it, but then you end up pregnant with your best friend's baby. Chaos ensues.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Pregnancy AU, Childhood Friends to FWB to Lovers, Slow-Burn, Smut, Fluff, Crack, Angst (barely, you have to squint to see it)

Word Count: 71.2k total

Warnings: chapter specific warnings will be included on each individual post

Author's Note: this is the masterpost for the series where I'll link each chapter once they’re posted! the fic is split by trimester and goes month by month throughout the pregnancy (and slightly before and after) across the three chapters. I hope you all enjoy it and pls feel free to lmk your thoughts or discuss things with me between chapters :)

The First Trimester (M)

Summary: Jungkook makes a proposition you can't don't want to refuse, and there are seemingly no consequences to your friendship at first, but then you miss you period and have to explain to all your loved ones how you got knocked up by your childhood best friend.

Word Count: 26k

The Second Trimester (M)

Summary: You're too busy attending baby prep classes and shopping for furniture together to focus on the significant changes living together and regularly hooking up has introduced into your relationship with Jungkook, although, it doesn't seem like either of you mind all that much.

Word Count: 20.3k

Drabble (M)

Summary: Jungkook decides to generously thank you for allowing him use your body for his pleasure, but your best friend is an overachiever and his immense gratitude leaves you absolutely breathless.

Word Count: 2.6k

The Third Trimester (M)

Summary: Everything feels different after having the worst scare of your life, but your baby's due date is fast approaching and there's still plenty more important things to do than rifle through your ever-growing feelings for Jungkook. He certainly doesn't make it easy on you when he's constantly sweeping you off your feet.

Word Count: 24.9k

[dcxdpdabbles]

Can we have more Tim falls for Tucker's "spouse" Danny

I'm going to be honest with you: I originally intended this fic idea to be a comedy, but I couldn't figure out how to execute it when I attempted to write it, which is why it ended up in the 'From a fic I never wrote' pile. Now that I have attempted to write it out, it turned more into humor angst? Or, Tim being sad while in Danny's POV, it's him and Tucker committing marriage fraud. Hope the change isn't too bad!

Tim has to bite his tongue when Foley once again agrees to go out for drinks with the team, as everyone is heading out for the day. It was the third weekend in a row, and really, how could he leave his husband home alone on a Friday night so often?

If Tim were married to a man like Daniel Fenton, he would never miss dinner or a night in. He would certainly not waste it trying to kiss up to some higher up the way Foley was so blatantly doing.

Tim had half the mind to grab the mid-level employee by the shoulders and scream at him that a promotion wasn't worth his marriage failing. Make him realize what he had before it was all gone.

For all of Tim's jealousy that Tucker Foley was the one married to a man who literally walked out of Tim's dreams, he didn't dislike Foley at all.

The man was charming, eager to work, and excited to prove himself. He never slacked off; he always kept on top of his deadlines, was friendly with his coworkers, and was always on time. Really, the only trouble that Foley had caused was his rivalry with Tammy Johnson from Accounts.

Apparently, the two hated each other on sight, and there was no real reason for it. Tim had a personal theory that Foley's sarcasm clashed heavily with Johnson's no-nonsense way of work. Johnson was exceptionally good at her job, but she tended not to get along with her coworkers because she took everything too literally and often confused a joke for an insult.

Johnson also became incredibly defensive, building up a wall after a perceived offense was made, and spent the rest of her time working with the offender in a passive-aggressive manner.

She also made comments here and there that hinted at her less-than-accepting point of view of the LGBT+ community. Nothing that Tim could drag her to HR for, but certainly something to keep an eye on.

That's why he jumped in so quickly when he overheard Foley and her arguing over their disagreement about the stick tower design at the last all-staff training retreat. He had heard Johnson rip into Foley, taking apart every one of his suggestions, with complete condescension and a bit of mockery until Foley's tired voice rang out.

"Is it because I'm gay, Tammy?"

Tim thought he finally had a chance to get her in some kind of trouble, but Foley had shut that down quickly. After explaining that the question was more internet humor than anything Johnson could have said, Tim found that he couldn't make the guy stop talking. Foley, it seemed, tended to ramble when panicked or nervous.

Meeting and speaking with the CEO tended to make many employees nervous.

Foley babbled on and on about his husband, how they were childhood friends who turned into sweethearts and then married, living the dream in the big city of Gotham with such devotion and love. Tim couldn't help but extend an invitation to bring the man around the office. He did it mostly to watch Johnson's already tight lips press harder into a straight line.

Then he met Daniel Fenton, and he realized the rambles of Foley weren't told from the rose-colored lens of a man in love but a perfect description of his husband.

Fenton was gorgeous in a soft kind of way, like a first blooming, a lot quieter than his husband, but intelligence danced in his eyes just the same. He was quick with witty responses, sarcastic in a more teasing way than Foley's, and when he spoke of his passions, he all but seemed to glow.

The first time Tim spoke to Fenton, the man was lost in the hallway leading to Foley's old office. At the time, the entire IT department had been relocated three floors up due to a leaking pipe in the ceiling of the previous floor.

Foley had failed to inform his partner that the offices were in a temporary location, so he was more than happy to bring Fention to the correct location.

Fenton had gifted him with a dazzling smile once Tim offered to walk him in the elevator, and had easily chatted with Tim enough so that the young CEO had nearly burst a gut, laughing at the other man's jokes.

He told Foley to invite his husband to more company events, and the other must have taken that as permission to have Fenton around as much as possible. Tim had more encounters with Fenton when the man showed up with pastries for Foley's office, when the team would go out drinking, or even just seeing Danny hanging around the lobby waiting for Foley to finish.

Five months passed before Tim could not deny it any longer. He had fallen for Fenton, the husband of one of his employees.

It was torture how often Fenton was around, but it wasn't like he didn't have the time. Fenton didn't have a formal job.

Apparently, he lived off his inheritance from a distant uncle named Pariah Dark and was more than happy to be a house husband who did random hobbies. One of those hobbies included baking.

Tim thinks he had a crush on Fenton for a while up until then, but he might have actually fallen in love when he tried one of Fenton's homemade donuts. Like an idiot, he kept asking Foley to bring Fenton around, because in those few hours or minutes of networking (for that was what Foley was doing. The man was ambitious) Tim could admire him, could listen to his voice, and could pretend- in the darkest corners of his heart- that his love for Fenton wasn't wrong.

He knew it was. Foley may not be a friend, but Tim tried not to be too close to his employee, as that often caused more problems than not. However, Foley was someone he respected. He felt horrible having such thoughts about the man's husband, but his heart yearned for Fenton more than it had ever yearned for anyone else.

This was getting so bad that Tim was making up random events so that Foley would have a reason to bring Fenton to. He even had the team photo, from the last Wayne Enterprises fundraiser for charity, framed and placed on his desk because Fenton was in it, smiling at the camera.

Tim's pathetic excuse that the rest of the employees' families were also present for the fundraiser wasn't a good enough reason to spend hours upon hours wishing that his arm was thrown around Fenton's shoulders in that photo instead of Foley's.

Tim had to stop.

He chose to tell Steph about his feelings for Fenton on the request that she stop him from doing something stupid. As his friend, she vowed to help him out and slowly but surely held him to his word.

Tim hadn't seen Fenton in almost three months, since Steph had started camping out in his office, doing her online classes and keeping an eye on him so Tim couldn't run down the ten floors to IT just to check if Fenton was about. She reminded him that Foley didn't work directly under him and didn't need to have such a close relationship with him, so he limited his interactions with the man as well.

Steph was also the one who held him through his heartbreak. Tim was no cheater, but he was a fool in love with someone who was taken, and it hurt.

It hurt to know that he could never be the one Fenton smiled at, or the one that Fenton lay next to at night, or the one Fenton joked and laughed with, still friends in a marriage.

It hurt to know that a man like Foley, who was sending another "I'm going out with the team for drinks" text as he followed Rico to his car while Tim stood in the lobby watching them go, was the man that Fenton had chosen.

A few minutes go by of him just standing there, thinking of Fenton, all alone, waiting in some living room for a man who didn't even find the effort to call him.

This is stupid. You're being stupid. What does their marriage matter to you? Just go home, Tim. He thinks angrily to himself, opening his umbrella and walking out into the familiar Gotham rain.

The water splashes against the fabric with the same aggression as marbles falling onto concrete. One of Gotham's super storms. He grimaces, gripping the handle harder as he strides down to the dinner at the end of the street.

Despite Tim being able to drive nearly every form of transportation, he had failed to obtain a driver's license, partly due to his secret identity and partly because he was too lazy. As a result, Tim walked everywhere, took the train, or the bus to get around.

He didn't trust people to not kidnap him (attempt to at least), so he never hailed a taxi or used a ride app. Not after it happened five different times. The life of a Wayne could sometimes be too much.

Not that he was willing to walk to the train station or bus stop in this weather.

He'll have a coffee and some food to wait out the rain, but if the storm doesn't improve, he'll have to call the Manor and see if someone can come pick him up.

The door dings when he pushes it through, and a wave of warmth, chatter, and music passes over him. He stops at the stand holding up a sign that reads Please wait to be seated.

He folds his umbrella, shaking out some water, as a waitress comes rushing towards him.

Her hair is falling out a bit from her bun, and she seems a bit stressed, but he can clearly see why. Many people had the idea to hide from the storm in the dining room - not a single table or booth seemed to be free. Even the bar stools were all claimed.

"Hi there!" The waitress greeted with slightly apologetic eyes. "It's going to be a forty-minute wait."

"I don't mind. Can I wait in here?" He smiles, watching her shoulders relax. She must have had someone yell at her today about the wait time. He gets it.

Once he had to go under cover as a waiter himself, and it took every ounce of his Bat training to not throw a tray at some customers' faces. Especially the impatient ones.

"Yeah, of course." The waitress waves to a little area on the side of the door. There are no chairs, and there is barely enough room to stand, but it's better than nothing. "If you give me your name, I can let you know when a table opens up-"

"He can sit with me." A voice interrupts. A familiar voice. Tim's heart leaps in his chest before he can even turn his head in the direction of the man who had spoken.

Daniel Fenton waves at him from one of the tables, smiling widely, over a half-seated plate of pancakes. He's wearing a soft, white, woven sweater, which makes his eyes pop, and his hair is slightly damp, likely from being caught in the rain.

He looks like a painting come to life.

Tim's mouth goes dry.

"Are you okay with that, Sir?" The waitress asks him, but it's Fenton who answers.

"Yeah, of course. I don't think this storm is going to clear any time soon, so I may as well spend it with someone I know." Fenton laughs, and it kicks Tim's brain into action.

"It's fine," He mutters to the waitress who was frowning. "I would be totally fine with sharing that table."

More than fine. Far too fine in fact. The man is married. A voice that sounds a lot like Steph cautions in his head. He ignores it.

"Well, okay then." The waitress leads him to the table, pulling out his seat before handing him a menu she grabbed from the stand at the front. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Let me guess," Fenton grins, snapping a finger and pointing it at Tim, "A coffee, three creams, two sugars, and a bit of chocolate syrup?"

Surprised, Tim stammers, "Yes, that's right."

Fenton laughs gently before giving the waitress a cheeky little smirk that does horrible things to Tim's already buzzing heart. "He always takes his coffee like that. A creature of habit, you know?"

She flashes a dimple, writing down his drink order. "I'll be back in a few minutes to take the rest of your order."

Tim barely notices her walk away, too captivated by the way Fenton's hair seems to curl slightly when wet. "W-what are you doing here, Mr. Fenton?"

"Tuck and I were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, but he cancelled at the last minute. I got caught in the rain when leaving the lobby, so I figured I may as well have my own dinner." The man reveals casually, as if it were normal for a husband to bail on plans so carelessly.

Tim fights the urge to reach out his hand and place it on Fenton's, wanting to offer comfort in case he was hiding his hurt.

He couldn't stop the words that tumble out of his mouth, though. He winces at the offended tone in his voice. "Your husband cancelled plans on you last minute?"

"Tuck is forgetful. He probably forgot he made plans with me." Fenton shrugs, smile still in place. Tim's stomach flips as the man leans on one hand, attention trained entirely on Tim. "What about you? Why are you here?"

"Hiding from the rain, too. Too heavy to walk home in. "

Fenton frowns. "You don't have a car?"

"I don't have a license." Tim laughs, raising a brow at the disbelief on Fenton's face. "Never bothered to get one. Most people don't in a city, where you can walk or us a bus"

"That's crazy. Back home, everyone had a license. You never get anywhere without one." Fenton reveals.

"You and your husband are from Illinois, right?" Tim hopes Fenton didn't notice how his voice had turned slightly strained on the word' husband'.

"That's right. From the small in the middle of nowhere, Amity Park." Fenton picks up his fork, waving it around slightly. "We have like three restaurants, a small mall, and a park. That's the extent of entertainment, so you've got to drive to do anything. You're not planning on walking in that storm, are you?"

"No, I'll call someone to come pick me up later."

"Nah, that's okay. I'll give you a ride when we finish." Fenton replies easily, stuffing a piece of pancake in his mouth. "I won't take no for an answer. Got nothing better to do anyway."

Tim closes his mouth, having been in the process of denying the offer, and instead raises the menu to hide behind. A flutter goes through his stomach as he realizes that Fenton knows his coffee order because of how often he's seen Tim take it while visiting, and is willing to drive him home.

He doesn't think about Foley. It's a dangerous thing what he does think about, but by the time the waitress comes by to get Tim's order, Fenton has pulled him into a fascinating conversation of old cartoons, and Tim can't find it in himself to care.

Besides, he was only looking. There was nothing wrong with looking.

[thecoochiefairy]

━━ 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒𝑠 .ᐟ toji.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 21.5K pregnancy kink, a LOT of dialogue ngl, third person pov, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, daddy kink, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, dad! toji, sweet! toji, talks of self-image, aggressive toji, daddy toji, baby megumi, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑜𝑧𝑒 ; 𝑆𝑍𝐴

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ i don’t wanna get all self deprecating, this didn’t feel like my best work, but this is the second part to the first fic ever wrote, and i missed my seioni, toji + megumi pairing. it’s kinda long. sorry. i had to. enjoy, love you. 🫶🏽

AN INTERNAL THUMPING DRONES ALONG HER EARS AS HER SLENDER EYES GLANCE UP AT THE SCREEN. The gel along her stretched belly is cold against her skin, the hand of the doctor continuing to rub gently as she stared at the life growing inside of her. 

Her mind had been everywhere to say the least. This was the first time she’d been to an appointment by herself, having her friends hold a trembling hand as she got news about the journey of her pregnancy. She was trying to keep her attention along the doctor's voice as her anxieties whipped around her body like a tornado. But as the nurse walked in with a forced smile, purposely flipping the paper over into the doctor's hand, her attentiveness peaked. 

Her heart could’ve dropped as the same nurse gave her a rub to the shoulder, thoughts immediately going to the worst. Those worries pulled all together in preparation for an anxiety attack as the doctor placed his glasses down to look along the words, giving a hum at the results. 

Although she wanted to scream, she pulled it together and filled the silence within the room as she politely asked, “Uh…is something wrong, Doctor?”

The doctor glances up at her, giving a small smile to reassure her with a shake to his head, “No, nothing’s wrong, Seioni. The baby is fine as well,” he pats her thigh, seeing as that causes her to release the breath she’d been holding before he continues, “The only… hiccup would be that your blood pressure seems to be higher than normal.”

“Oh,” she says softly, “I didn’t realize.”

What was she supposed to say? She felt like she was in trouble, unsure of how to process that information. She hadn’t been feeling too bad—a couple of headaches here and there—she figured it was just her lack of eating. 

The doctor hums as he glances back at the paper, “How have you been feeling lately? How has the pregnancy been on you so far?” He asks, looking back at her.

“Good! I mean—as good as I can be,” she watches as the nurse comes to wipe her stomach, softly thanking her as she sits up. She knew that she might not have been telling the entire truth, but this also wasn’t a therapy session. Rubbing her belly had become a nail-biting replacement, seeing as the doctor then asks, “Do you still own your tattoo shop?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t work anymore. My fiancè takes care of everything, but for the most part the shop runs itself,” she briefly explains. 

The doctor nods understandingly. This still wasn’t a therapy session, but being her primary doctor and having that relationship with her, he couldn’t help but pry just a bit. 

 He hums, “That’s good to hear…” glancing at the ultrasound before looking back at her, “How has your home life been? How is your fiancé?”

That was the burning question. Officially being in a relationship with Toji taught her what it was like to be with a man, it scared her to open herself up to someone in a way she hadn’t in years. Not only did she never expect herself to actually end up with him, she damn sure didn’t expect to become a maternal figure to his son—Megumi—who was now freshly two-years old, hopping along for the ride of the relationship between his father and ‘Oni’’ as he’d call her. They all experienced a love between one another that blossomed as months passed—but that didn’t mean it didn’t have its…faults. 

Seioni sighed, tracing her fingers lightly against her belly before she replied, “My fiancé has a son, he just turned two. We’ve been potty training him and it’s been…a mess, no pun intended,” she lightly giggles, “He fusses a lot now since we’re trying to get him off of his pacifier, and he has trouble sleeping. I’ve also been trying to plan a wedding and baby shower by myself because my fiancè wants to make sure I have everything my way. On top of that I feel like a beluga whale, I can’t keep food down because I vomit at certain smells since my nostrils are similar to a dog now—do you know what dirt smells like? Seriously, I mean, have you smelled it? It's awful—but uh—As far as me and my fiancè, he’s been working a lot so…I don’t see much of him at times,” she realizes as everything sounds overwhelming, muttering a soft, “Sorry.”

The doctor gave a sympathetic look, understanding her situation. He sighs before he speaks again, giving a gentle smile to her, “You have a lot on your plate. You know what you’re experiencing are symptoms of stress, correct? That’s what’s causing your high blood pressure.”

Seioni knew that she could be a bit neurotic, but she didn’t realize that these things were genuinely putting her in a state of distress. Megumi’s growing pains, Toji’s lack of interest within the wedding and baby shower, and their lack of intimacy whether it was in the bedroom or out of it. Maybe she just needed some dick—or a box of tissues. 

“What does your husband do for work?” 

She blinks, not ever having an answer for that question. She then convinced herself, “Uh—contractor. Yup, contractor.” 

“Maybe you should suggest for him to take some time off of work then. But regardless, this is a beautiful situation. You have a baby girl coming, you're planning a baby shower, and your wedding will be soon, correct?” 

“Yes, I’m thinking Italy,” she nods, seeing as that makes the doctor warmly smile. 

She thinks to herself, this is a happy time. So why the hell did she feel so…mundane? 

She blinks, raising her eyes up to him as she nods, “I guess I didn’t realize I was stressing myself out that badly. Am I…harming my baby?” She worries, eyebrows furrowing as she lets out a deep breath.

“No, no. You’re not harming your baby in any way. I’m just worried for you. Both mentally and physically.” He reassured her, “It seems your blood pressure is fine now and everything else is normal. You just need to make sure you don’t stress yourself out anymore as your pregnancy progresses. Let me ask, are you and your fiancè intimate?”

She raises her eyes, feeling her face go lightly warm as she repeats, “Intimate as in…sex? Is that really okay during pregnancy?”

He gave a small laugh, a little flustered that it was even a question as he soothes, “Yes, dear. It’s perfectly fine, healthy for you and the baby. It also increases the production of oxytocin—“ he pauses as he sees her face fill with confusion before he explains, “The ‘love’ hormone, essentially. It reduces pregnant stress, improves sleep, and temporarily masks aches and pains. Sex, bonding, and an increase in endorphins help a pregnant woman sleep better to combat exhaustion and other griping pregnancy symptoms.” 

When he sees that she still has a hesitation along her face, he gives her a gentle touch along her shoulder as he says, “No stressing, okay? How about I prescribe you some Lexapro? You can take them as needed, not anything you have to worry about fitting into your schedule.”

Seioni immediately knew that if Toji wasn’t such a damn workaholic, he’d be under her like a baby attached to a nipple—already having a small disagreement about her taking anything that wasn’t her prenatals. He’d dealt with a pregnant woman before, wanting to make sure she was as healthy as possible. But shit, he didn’t know everything, did he?

“…I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have. I’d just be worried if taking anything other than my prenatal might be harmful,” she tells him honestly.

He nods, understanding her concern. He sits down on a stool after he pulls it near her before breaking down, “That’s normal. Let me reassure you that Lexapro— a SSRI—Selective-serotonin-reuptake inhibitor— is safe for both pregnant women as well as their babies. It’s been shown that only 1% of the medication is passed on to the fetus during delivery, and that is an extremely small percentage. It’s deemed completely safe.”

She lets out a deep breath, realizing that she’s once again stressing herself out about things that don’t have to be overwhelming to her. This should’ve been the time where she rested, being seven months pregnant made her feel like she was going to explode. 

She then nods her head as she exhales, “Thank you so much, doctor. Me and my little boo boo feel so blessed to have you,” she gives him a soft smile, rubbing her belly happily.

 “It’s my pleasure. You’ be sure to take care of yourself, okay?” He teased her a little, standing back up on his feet, “I’ll call that prescription in and the pharmacy should have it ready for you by the time you get there,” As he goes to help her off the table, he adds on, “Oh, and your fiancé should be expecting a call from me as well.”

“Uh, why? If you don’t mind me asking?” She places her hand along the bottom of her stomach, letting out a tired breath as she pulls herself up to stand.

The doctor chuckled lightly as he saw the small struggle and helped her stand, saying, “It’s nothing worrisome. Just gonna let him know about your prescription,” He tells her, “He’ll need to know about your blood pressure as well.”

Shit. She was hoping that she could at least talk to him about the prescription first, knowing that when he meant something, he meant it. She pulls her smile lines up to hold a happy expression on her face, nodding as she repeats, “Yeah, of course. Thank you again.” 

The moment she leaves the doctors office, she soaks in his words, taking them into consideration. This should’ve been the happiest time for her. The only stress should have been picking out names, choosing colors for her bridesmaids dresses, and creating a registry for the perfect gifts. Another issue she’d been facing was the insecurities she felt within her own body changing. Her nose was wider than usual, her hips were now actually child bearing, and her belly walked in the room before she did. What if she wasn’t attractive anymore? 

On the opposite end, Toji drowned in her scent, wanting to eat her alive each time he saw her—if only she knew that. She wasn’t sure why her face was warm as she clutched the olive green baby doll dress, standing within Victoria Secret as the cashier rudely eyed her belly more than she needed to. 

“‘Fuck are you looking at?” She said before she thought about it, the cashier quickly dropped her eyes back to the lingerie as she shoved it into the bag. 

Finally making her way back home, she thanks the babysitter as she sends her off for the rest of the day. She thinks to herself as she’s within the kitchen taking out the steak that she plans to cook, realizing these issues wouldn’t feel as big if she had Toji’s full support. 

It's not that he wasn’t trying to help. He just wanted everything her way, she was his princess. He assumed that letting her handle these tasks would keep her busy since she complained about not working. She hoped that once Megumi went to bed, she could have some…alone time with Toji. But as she was now sat across from Megumi who refused to pee in the toilet, her track of time was off, and she wasn’t sure if her mission would be a success. She sat on the phone with her mom, listening to her complain about her older brother’s constant circle of women he presented to their father and aunt.  Even through her amusement, she couldn’t help that she deeply missed them all, although they could sometimes be…something. 

“Your stupid-ass-big-headed ass brother has brought the second girl over here this week, talking about ‘This the one for real Ma’,’ boy, please. And the girls be’ cute, too! If only they had a brain. I tell them to run! Shoes off! Barefoot! Why didn’t you just let me ship him off to your place and move into your old condo?”

“Because he would have to pay rent, which would require him to have a job,” she emphasizes, “You let Nova eat, sleep and shit in your house for free. If you gave his’ ass responsibility he’d explode.”

“What you’ tryna say, lil’ girl? Don’t make me smack you through this phone.”

“Hitting a pregnant woman? Have some decorum,” she chuckles, “But you know exactly what I’m saying, momma. That’s your pride and joy, you need to take him off the nipple and kick him out, have him shack up with his thousands of bitches. I love my brother to death, but he can’t be living under you his whole life.”

“How about you worry about the baby in your belly and the one in front of you who refuses to pee?”

Her eyes immediately met with the familiar gray ones she saw within her fiancé’s. His fat olive cheeks are currently a tint of red as his arms cross below him, dark hair spruced all around his head as he frowned across from her, sitting on his teddy bear decorated makeshift toilet. 

“Have you been taking the fish oil pills I sent?”  her mother asks.

Seioni frowns, “Yuck. Everything except those. I can barely keep food down, do you want me to vomit?” 

She then turns her head back towards Megumi as she sighs, “C’mon, Sweetface. You said ‘Oni, pee!’ earlier.”

Another issue that they faced, with Megumi being two, in comparison to other children there was a…slowness to his ability to speak. They thought he’d be farther in his journey, understanding more than he could reply. But it wasn’t an end of the world issue. It was something that was brought up in conversation when it came to Toji’s ability to teach him, but that conversation quickly ended. One thing everyone knew—Toji didn’t play about his child. 

Megumi shakes his, saying, “No, no, no!” as he wiggles his way from the toilet. 

Her mother hears their little argument as she asks, “Meg’ giving you a hard time with potty training again?” 

“As always,” Seioni sighs. 

“How about you give him treats for it?” 

Seioni frowns, “Jesus, he’s not a dog, momma. And I don’t want him thinking that the only way you accomplish things is immediately receiving an award for them.” 

She sighs as she looks at Megumi, “I wish you were here, mommy. You had me and Nova potty trained before we were even counting. How’s Dad? And Aunt Celeste?”

Her mother heard the longing tone of her daughter’s words and immediately sympathized. Her daughter always had a close relationship with her family, so it was expected for her to miss them. 

“Your father’s fine. He’s in the backyard tending to the garden like he says he’s going to do every summer,” she replied, slightly amused by her over-the-top husband, “And Celeste is somewhere in her room caked-up on the phone with her many boyfriends. Probably where Nova’s slutty ass gets it from.” 

Seioni laughs lightly as she smiles, just envisioning her father out in the garden every summer with a ridiculous sunhat and shorts, a gardening shovel in his hand as the sweat glistens on his body. She also envisioned her aunt, boisterous laugh as she twirled her hair to any man’s attention. This conversation was only aiding her home-sickness, she felt her stomach beginning to ache.

She brings her eyes back to Megumi, staring over him as he sits silently along the toilet. She then says to him, “Megumi, pee?” 

Megumi gives a pout, his chin quivering as he mutters out, “No-potty!” his little hands curling up into fists. He refused to use the toilet, and only wanted to use his pull-ups. 

Seioni huffs, running her hand through her hair, “Oh my hell, just pee, Megumi,” she told him as her mother laughed through the call.

“Eat-eat!” He then soundlessly calls out. 

Seioni raises an eyebrow as she crosses her arms, “No eat-eat, Megumi doesn’t want to pee!”

“He sounds just like his father. Stubborn as hell,” her mother laughs as she hears her daughter and grandchild from the phone. 

Seioni sighs as she rolls her eyes, but with a slight laugh as she agrees, “Yeah, exactly like his father…” She sighs once again before saying, “Megumi, you get no food until you pee!” She told him.

“Does he do this all the time?”

“Girl, yes. He only listens to Toji. Probably cause’ he’s scary. But he wanna take advantage of his ‘Oni’,” Seioni rolls her eyes. 

Megumi’s eyes were wide as a look of horror came across his face. He refused to pee, but he also wanted to eat. He’d only just recently gotten rid of his bottles and had been eating actual, solid food now. 

He began to pout heavily, tears slowly gathering in his eyes before he replied with a quiet, “Oni’, Hungry.” as he held his belly, as if to further his point.

Although she tried to get better with not allowing his cries to defeat her, she couldn’t help but soften at that olive toned face going red in the cheeks, swelling as his doe eyes dropped tears. 

She then muttered into the phone, “Fuckin’ hell, Momma, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Seioni’s mother chuckles over the line, hearing the annoyance in her daughter’s voice. “Okay,” she replies, “You better make sure Toji’s big headed ass is sitting with Megumi by the toilet the minute he gets home, you shouldn’t be the only one doing this. You acting like more of a parent then he is!”

“Mom, please don’t start,” Seioni sighs, rolling her eyes as that was probably the twentieth time her mother told her that, “Goodbye, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” her mother replies as if she didn’t just throw shade at her fiancè, “Talk to you later. Bye, Megumi.”

The sound of her mom’s soft voice nearly makes her want to begin crying like Megumi, missing the warmth that she brings around her. She could be a pain in the ass at times—especially when it came to her feelings about Toji’s constant absence as of recently—but that was her mom regardless. 

Megumi’s attention is pulled away from his tears as he hears her voice through the phone, calling out a small, “Bye, Bye” before Seioni hangs up the call.

Seoni places the phone down, raising her arms as she sighs, “C’mon. Oni’ is sorry, okay? Just need you to pee without your diaper one of these days.”

Megumi slowly lifted himself up from the toilet and pouted more as he muttered, “No potty,” he wasn’t going to give in to her just yet.

She had her own transgressions with the fact that Megumi had a hard time listening to her when it came to potty-training, and it was even more frustrating that the only person he listened to at times was his father. She loved Megumi like he was her own, but she knew that her not actually being his mother might’ve clued into their issues. 

“Eat-eat?” She raises an eyebrow, pulling his pamper up along his hips as she kisses him against his tear filled cheek, standing with a groan as she places him along the side of her hip.

“Eat-eat,” Megumi nodded heavily. 

His little hands clutched along her shirt as he began to sob softly, his pouts becoming more intense. His face began to become more red as tears fell more down his cheeks, staining a part of her shirt.

Seoni let out a sigh—this was gonna be a long night. 

She was halfway successful with her mission of cooking for Toji before he got home, making a wagyu steak with garlic buttered mash potatoes, only able to make a small salad for herself as she couldn’t handle anything too heavy on her stomach. Another thing she couldn’t stop crying about, nearly vomiting anything heavier than salads, sandwiches or liquids. She wasn’t sure what time he was coming home tonight, knowing that his job delved within ‘mafia/criminal’ activity, but never asking what he exactly did, just hoping he got home safely in the process. 

Once she fed Megumi and got him to finally go to sleep, she took the final step in her plans. She took a long shower, shaved her entire body, and lathered herself with baby oil and vanilla scented perfume. 

But as she stood in the baby doll dress, her breast spilled out the sides of the lace fabric, her round belly large  under the sheer gown—all of her insecurities came flooding in the warmth of her cheeks. She felt…unattractive.  

Once she changed into one of Toji’s oversized jerseys, she spent the next hour crying her eyes out, seated on the sofa as she bored into old pictures of herself. She cried so hard that she ended up knocking out, dozing off along the pillows unknowingly that she never took into account how late Toji finally came home. 

He was always terrible at entering the house. Heavy boots thumped along the floor, a low curse echoing along the walls as he stepped on one of Megumi’s toys trying to come inside. Due to her being a light sleeper, Seioni’s eyes slowly blank open, reflexively holding her belly as she looks at her fiancè. Toned arms, muscles bulging through his shirt as that dragon tattoo trailed around his left hand, now crawling under his shoulder and down his back. Dark hair and matching furrowed eyebrows frowned as he appeared behind the door, scarred lip twitching as his eyes fell over her figure. 

Seeing this man was like seeing him for the first time. Its like he’d almost gotten bigger in height and broadness, almost having to slouch for her consideration. Steel gray eyes were deadly, glares and stoic appearance making her want to melt within a constant.  A small scowl plays along his mouth—per usual—eyes flickering from the toy he just stepped on to the woman sleeping on the couch, journal nearly falling from her grasp as she begins to wake up. 

As soon as his eyes met hers though, his heart warmed a bit, relaxing slightly as his deep voice gruffly called, “Baby... What are you doing sleeping on the couch? You’re supposed to be in bed.” 

He takes his leather jacket off and slings it over the table, pausing as he picks it back up to hang along the coat rack by the door before Seioni can choke him out about it. He's already making his way over to her flawlessly beautiful figure, dark hair sticking along her toffee face as she adjusted to reawakening, feeling as her legs are being gently pulled over his lap. 

Her voice is soft and immensely quiet, “I…dozed off, uh…writing baby names. Remembering what the doctor told me,” she runs her fingers through her dark hair as she sighs, “Hi, Daddy.”

He gives a rumbling chuckle as he glances down at the journal, looking at her words before he glances back up to her, pulling her more onto his lap instead, “Hey, Mama,” he muttered back, his large hand lightly resting against her belly. 

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, aren’t you?” 

“Today was by default. Megumi gave me the blues trying to potty train him again, but I did end up making dinner for you,” she wraps her arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his palms on her hips.

Toji lets out a small huff, “‘Boy is just as hard headed as I am, you know that. You’ll tire yourself out more trying to get him to do something he doesn’t want to do.” He gently pulled her closer, her legs on either side of his lap, wrapping an arm around her hips. 

“What’d you make? I’m starving,” he grunted out, his hand rubbing her hip, massaging it lightly.

“Wagyu steak and garlic mash potatoes, how Muffin likes it,” she playfully rolls her eyes, giggling as she feels his palm lightly smack along her ass from the nickname.

In regular fashion, he quickly grumbles, “I keep telling your ass I’m not your damn Muffin.” 

He then chuckled, “Smartass, but you know me so goddamn well, beautiful,” he teased nonetheless, giving her a grin as his hand rested comfortably along her hips. 

“Just like I know that you like being my Muffin, hm?” 

“Stop talking to me. Anyways, you know if you’re going to go through the effort of cooking, I need to go through the effort to reward you afterwards,” he travels his hand upward as he digs his fingers into her hair to clutch her forward, lips sucking the skin of her neck into his mouth. 

It made her sigh breathlessly, her face warm as a small giggle pulled from her lips, “Don’t I get a reward for just being the love of your life?”

He chuckled as he pulled away from her neck, his lips just centimeters away from hers as he told her, “It never ends with you, does it, woman? Always needing more from me.”

The constant realization with their lack of intimacy hits her again, a chill coursing down Seioni’s spine at the thought. But another chill came as she remembered not feeling as attractive as she usually did. She can tell that Toji feels her body tense, hoping he doesn’t press her reaction—she really didn’t want to end the night off in an argument about her own self conflicts. 

She nearly sighs in appreciation as he slows his movements down, hearing as he asks, “How was the doctor?” 

She raises her eyes as she squints, “The doctor called you today, Fushiguro. I’m assuming you missed it due to work.”

Toji nearly groaned at the news of her saying that the doctor called. He’d meant to answer them, but as of recently work had been busier. 

“Damn it, I knew I forgot something.” He muttered out, lightly pinching his nose, “What did they call about?”

“He wanted to tell you about my high blood pressure,” she lightly trails her finger along his arm, the dragon along the veined skin shining under the living room light.

His head raised up, “What’s causing you to have high blood pressure?” 

“He said I could just be stressing myself out, which—I know I am. He prescribed me Lexapro, I think I might try it out for a couple of days, see how it makes me feel.” 

She can practically feel the frown on his face before she sees it, keeping her eyes away from him as she attempts to move herself off of his lap. Key word, attempted. 

“You’re not taking those.”

She raises her eyebrows, “The doctor told me they were safe, Toji. I don’t think he’d give me anything if he knew I couldn’t take it.”

“You think I give a fuck about what the doctor said?” 

She rolls her eyes, not ready to go back and forth with him as his arm tightens around her hips, his fingers digging a bit harder into her curves as he speaks, “If it’s not a damn prenatal, I don’t want you taking anything else. I’m not risking shit happening to you. There’s better ways to control your blood pressure.”

“Like what? Not stressing myself? That’s easier said than done. Who else wouldn’t be stressed if they had a baby in their terrible twos, a baby in their belly—then planning a wedding and baby shower all at once?” She raises an eyebrow.

“What the fuck does that have to do with you taking some dumbass shit like Lexapro? You can do all of that without medication, Seioni.” 

“Oh bite me,” she snarls, “Don’t go all government on me. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“These are issues that can be easily resolved. I’m waiting for your point.”

“Easily resolved?” Her hand quickly latches to pull his arm off of her, his hand becoming more firm as he holds onto her before his mouth fires off, “Seioni. Don’t fuckin’ play with me right now, move your hand.” 

“Boy, fuck off! Who the hell are you to tell me what I can’t take? My father?”

“Boy?” He raises his own eyebrow, full lips and scar twitching in her defiance. 

When she’s finally able to get him to loosen his grip,  she tries to hide her grunt as she has to hold her back and belly all at once to properly stand, struggling as she does so before successfully coming off of his lap. 

The minute she began getting up, his hands went immediately to her hips to hold her in his lap, a very deep frown on his face as he spoke in a dark tone, “Don’t give me that bullshit, woman. I’m your goddamn husband, that’s why I’m saying it—And you can’t even get up to stand by yourself, you can barely even move without grunting in pain, sit the hell down.”

“I can do stuff on my own!” She exclaims, crossing her arms, “Don’t act like I’m helpless, bastard. I’m just saying that maybe Lexapro wouldn’t make me so neurotic.”

“I’m not saying you’re helpless. I’m just saying that your body is not the same as it was before you were pregnant,” he grumbled back, the vein in his forehead throbbing as he spoke. He looked directly down at her arms, seeing how she crossed them across her chest as he continued, “We don’t need anymore side effects happening to you or the baby because you’re wanting some antidepressant. You don’t need those, you need to sit your ass down and take a damn break. This is why your blood pressure is high.”

“Well how about you make me less stressed by helping me out? You wanna be tied up in your stupid ass job all the time, how wouldn’t I be stressed?” She narrows her eyes.

There it is, the argument he’d been avoiding this entire time. He knew that she was upset about the time he’d been spending at work, but work was important to him. He wanted to be able to take care of her and Megumi in more ways than imagined. 

“Don’t act like I just work for shits and fuckin’ giggles.”

“Don’t make me feel like I’m supposed to be satisfied with that ! I’m asking you to at least seem interested when I talk to you about these things. Wedding, baby shower, baby names! Anytime I bring it up you blow me off about it—using the excuse that you just want to make sure I do everything I want for both events, but in reality you just don’t wanna do shit for them!” She clocks him, swatting his arms away in an attempt to touch her.

The vein in his forehead turned into a headache as she continued speaking, her words hitting at his pride. He was beginning to get incredibly pissed as she continued.

“I don’t want to do anything for it because those things aren’t about me, it’s about you and the baby. What kind of man do you think I would be if I didn’t allow you to plan your own gender reveal, your own baby shower, your own wedding, your own goddamn baby gifts? I don’t do anything to help but I’m giving you the reigns here.”

“Well maybe I’d like my fiancè to seem slightly excited about these events, to just give me some type of showing that you care!”

“You’re really doing this right now?” He blinks, “You know I care. If I didn’t I wouldn’t give a fuck about all this stupid-girly shit,” he blows a breath, sucking his teeth, “Shit. Maybe you do need the goddamn Lexapro.” 

Similar to Megumi, another newfound part of her pregnancy was the way that she could instantly cry on cue, almost like a baby. To hear his words instantly hurt her feelings. 

She didn’t mean to give the reaction she did, but everything began hitting her all at once. His words, the doctor's words, her own words. A pout came to her lips, her eyes welling with tears as she pressed her hands to her face, “I just feel so …overwhelmed.”

The minute she began to cry, Toji tensed immediately. He absolutely hated it when she cried, and her pregnancy definitely didn't help him on that end at all. He was about to respond but another sniffle came from her, and then followed by another, and another, he groaned.

"Oh jesus... Stop crying, please, you know I hate this shit..." he grumbled softly, his large hands lightly rubbing at her hips to try and soothe her.

That made her full on sob, her face red as her cheeks swelled, her hands over her face as she cried, “I c—can’t do this alone. I miss my family, I wish they were here to help me with these things. Megumi is giving me a hard time, I—I can’t keep any food down, I can’t fit any of my clothes, I feel like a fucking ugly fat whale.”

He could feel how his shirt got damp, tears staining it from her crying, but he couldn’t care less as he held her against him. Despite the pregnancy, she still felt so small in his grip, and it reassured him that although his words could be mean, he was always there to comfort her.

His head laid against the top of her head as he muttered softly, “You're not alone. You have me, okay? You have me—your…Muffin,” he almost vomited at his words, “ And Meggie, we’re here. You're not alone, babydoll.”

“But you’re always workinggg,” she sobs, hiding her face within his chest as she cries even harder, nearly unable to breath as tears drop heavily from her face.

“Baby, you gotta calm down.”

He tried soothing her as his hand began gently trying to brush away some of the tears falling down her face. Her sobbing was beginning to worry him, she was crying too damn hard. 

“I know you’re upset about the amount of time I’ve been working but—baby, I’m just tryna’ handle shit for us,” he was trying to rationalize with her, but it was very difficult to do so when she was crying.

“M—Maybe y—you just don’t want me or this baby,” she trembles.

Toji quickly grips her face, pulling her tear streaked cheeks to stare up at him as he pulls her forward, “Cut this shit out,” a firm, dark tone, “I want you more than anything with this baby. Quit saying bullshit like that. I think you’re the prettiest, Oni’. You’re lucky I can’t fuck the shit out of you right now.” 

She takes another deep breath, unable to stop herself from crying. The waterworks flowed, keeping her face in her hands as she quivered, “‘M sorry. I’m just so scared. I can’t even get Megumi to pee in the toilet. How am I gonna be a good mother? W—what if I can’t do this?” more tears appear along her face, nearly having to catch her breath from her tearful attack.

He could feel the way she was shaking and quivering from crying, and it only continued to make him feel guilty. Her words hurt, but it hurt even more when she began doubting herself.

“You’re going to be a great mom,” he muttered with an assurance, his hand lightly moving across her face, trying to brush away the tears. “Megumi’s just stubborn, baby. You’ll be able to get him eventually, it just takes time. 

You’re doing great. You’re doing just fine, okay?”

His words make her feel slightly better. She knew that she was doing better than most, and maybe being so critical was another cause of her stress. She knew she was going to be the best mother she could be, she just had to believe that. Especially with Toji’s support. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as she shoves her face within his neck, sniffling as she tries to control her breathing. 

She then muffled, “I—I love you.”

He placed his chin along the top of her head, his hand gently clutching at the back of her hair. “I love you too, beautiful. I love you so damn much.”

“Even when I’m a crying mess?” She mutters, feeling the grumble of his chuckle along her body.

“Even when you’re a complete mess, I still love you. You’re still my gorgeous, loveable mess, baby,” he reassured, placing a gentle kiss along the top of her head, “I meant what I said. You’ in my jersey is gonna get you fucked up,” he grunts, the arousement of this man never failing.

She rolls her eyes against his damp shirt, lightly swatting his arm as she utters, “Hush.”

The comfort and reassurance of this man was like no other— she couldn’t ask for a better upcoming husband. Through all of that, she feels her body becoming tired again after the waterworks, laying herself deeper into him as she lets a moment of silence go between them. Despite their disagreements, she loved him endlessly. 

“Baby?” She asks softly. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I have some of your steak?” 

“Is it gonna make you vomit and then cry after you vomit?”

“…Yes.” 

“Then no.” 

                     ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. 𐦍༘⋆

AS A COUPLE OF WEEKS HAD PASSED, Seioni had  come to the revelation that the only thing she’d do from now on was enjoy this pregnancy. With that, she requested instead of taking Lexapro to receive something for her morning sickness. Toji’s stubbornness subsided at the thought of her being able to eat, to which he painfully agreed on the medication.

All this man wanted to do was make his woman happy. He wanted to withhold the surprise he had for her and Megumi, but knowing that not allowing his fiancè to do her ‘girly-shit’ in preparation for an upcoming vacation to Maui, Hawaii, she’d go into labor if she couldn’t buy a whole new wardrobe.  

She was like a child when it came to her excitement—if only her fiancè and his son were as equally elated in her process. She enjoyed every single swipe of his card, outfits, getting her hair done, pampering herself in preparation to be along the beach. She dragged Toji and Megumi all around the mall with her, finding outfits for them as well—ignoring the looks shared between the son and father, impatient and only wanting to be curled up next to her at home. But as he watched her stare within the mirror as she tried on two-piece bikinis, not giving a damn about her round belly, shopping wasn’t as bad as he made it to be—he was now excited. 

The day finally came as they were at the bustling airport. Seioni pulled her bohemian braids behind her ear, more human hair than anything flowing in between the individuals as her brown skin was lightly russet within the face, her freckle’s almost making her look sun kissed. She wore a ballerina pink baby tee, matching yoga pants and her hello kitty sandals, trying to carry her own personal bag on her shoulder as she gave a polite nod to the airport worker after showing her passport. Toji could’ve nearly snatched that bag off of her shoulder, almost glaring at her for attempting to carry something as heavy as her bag. 

“I had it,” she said softly, rolling her eyes.

He grumbled, raising an eyebrow at her eye-roll as he shifted the strap along his shoulder, allowing her to walk in front of him. He was like a guard dog, ready to pounce at any moment as she spun around in her dream land.

“And you say I’m stubborn,” Toji mutters. 

She raises an eyebrow, “You’ talkin’ shit over there?” Taking Megumi’s small hand within hers, pulling him as he waddled down the line towards TSA. 

“Do you want me to repeat myself in a louder tone?”

She shot daggers at him, eyebrows frowning down as she nearly flung Megumi to turn towards him, “You know what, as a matter of fact, I do!” 

“You better waddle your ass to TSA and stop talking to me.” 

“I don’t wanna have to smack your ass in this damn airport, Fushiguro,” she glares.

“That’s even if you could get to me in time!” 

“Oh! You’re tryna’ be funny! How about I roll over to you?! Bastard!—“ 

“You better stop talking to that man like that, Seioni!” 

She halts. Her attitude is on high alert as she thinks—who the hell is talking to her and why did they know her name?

 Her body fully turns as she searches for the voice that becomes familiar the more it echoes in her mind. Her heart nearly falls in her ass as she sees the familiar smile that she holds within her own face, her mother standing on the other side of the airport as well as her father, brother and aunt.

 Her eyes go wide as she shockingly calls, “Momma?!” 

Her eyes turn to Toji, seeing the smile that suppresses within his face. He knew that she was having a hard time with this pregnancy, so he thought surprising her with her family joining them on the trip would make her smile. He knew she hadn’t seen them in a while due to them living in a different city. 

She releases Megumi’s hand as she takes off for them, Toji calling, “Oni’!” scared she would fall, watching as she waddles quickly over to them, gripping her mother into the tightest hug she could’ve given her. 

“Oh my god,” she cried, tears immediately coming down her face, “What are you— when did you—how are you guys here?” She cried, looking between all of her family members, unable to stop herself from the waterworks.

The minute she began crying, her mother was shushing her gently with a light laugh, “Oh no, no, don’t cry, babygirl. We just wanted to surprise you, since we know you’ve been having a hard time lately.”

Her mother was lightly rubbing her back as her father spoke up next, “Your fiancé told us that you could use some moral support right now, we were more than happy to come see you. He paid for our flights here and to Maui.” 

“You didn’t tell us your fiancè had all this damn munyun, sis,” her brother calls from behind, a smirk along his face.

She scrunches her nose at her brother as she fires, “Don’t be ghetto, act like you’ve been around some money before.” 

“Yo’ daddy!” Nova rebuttals. 

“Aye! I’m nowhere near broke!” Her father, Noel protests. 

“Did you pay for this trip, broke-boy?” Her mother playfully insights to her husband, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow, “I recall you only buying a neck pillow for the flight.” 

“Saanaá, please. You bought a matching one!” 

“And did! Celeste bought a third!” She points out. 

“And did! In my business? Mind yours, anyways, he does seem to have heavy ass pockets. What he do’ for work?” The aunt playfully instigates, Toji and Seioni quickly replying in an exhale, “Contractor.” 

Toji’s instantly amused by her family dynamic. He was unable to do anything but chuckle as she turns towards him, “You really did this?” Sniffling as she smacks his arm, “You did. You bastard.” 

Toji now had Megumi along his hip, nearly stumbling as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pecking his lips multiple times while still crying throughout her happiness.

“Is this the little Megumi?” Her aunt playfully gasps. 

 Megumi giggles as he raises his arms into hers, surprisingly going right into her embrace which makes her happily cheer. Toji almost had to blink twice. 

“Well come on people, our flight is gonna start boarding soon!” The mom calls, taking the hand of her husband as the aunt giggles excitedly with Megumi in her hands, Seioni’s brother helping with the bags as he follows behind.

 She turns to Toji as she wraps her arms around his neck, “You’re such a sweetie when you wanna be, y’know that? Always putting on this scary act and you’re just a little teddy bear. My muffin.” 

“You think I’m a teddy bear, huh?” He teased lightly, one of his hands lightly resting along the small of her back, holding her close to him. “Don’t be fuckin’ cute. I’m only soft for you.” 

“Looks like somebody's tryna’ get on my good side, hm?” 

She stood on her toes, dragging her tongue along his jaw before sucking his lips into her mouth, making him grunt lowly, “Don’t get me put on the no flight list, Seioni.” 

She giggles, “Bad boy. We’re with my family!” She teases, giggling as she tries to pull away, “The baby can hear you,” she places her hand along her belly.

“She’s gonna feel something if you don’t stop playing,” he threatens along her lips, hearing as she shockingly giggles, swatting his arm before she begins pulling him towards their gate, “Let’s go!” 

The flight had gone by quickly—at least for Seioni, she fell asleep before the plane even took off. Toji spent most of his time hovering the phone over to Megumi to keep him quiet, seeing as he became fussy from having to be stuck in one place for a long period of time. Her mom and aunt were also asleep, her brother and father engrossed in a movie they were both watching at the same time.

He couldn’t help but sigh as both Seioni and Megumi gripped along his body to comfortably sleep, Toji barely unable to move at this point. The tired laugh that fell from his lips was inevitable.

The minute that he felt like he’d dozed off, they arrived in Maui. His jet-lagged physique made him feel like his eyes were shutting by themselves, but to see the excitement of his fiancè as she pulled him through the airport, he figured he’d sleep another time. The sun was shining brighter than they’d ever experienced as they made it outside, the flowers were blooming and the trees were vibrantly green—it was almost overwhelming.

“We were only on the plane for an hour but yet my ass feels like it’s been sitting in a seat for hours,” he mutters, his voice tired. It felt like his chest had been filled with concrete; the only thing keeping him focused was the pure, raw excitement that his fiancè showed. 

“Awe, you need a massage?” Seioni questions, rubbing the side of his neck as he attempts to pick up her luggage, his and Megumi’s. 

“Don’t be tryna’ soften me up and shit” he points out, Seioni pouting as she says, “Moi? Softening you up? How dare you.” 

Toji huffs as she continues to rub at the side of his neck, the action making him want to just collapse into her body and fall asleep. 

“What do you want, woman?”

“Your love and affection?” She bats her eyelashes, “You've been working  so hard. Nova, come get these bags before I punch you! My man is doing all the damn work!” She calls for her brother, wrapping her arms around Toji as she pecks his jaw.

“Stop yelling at me, fucker.”

Both siblings raise their middle fingers to each other, Toji having to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing at the sight. 

He feels her arms wrapping around his body, subconsciously holding her a bit tighter against him as he grumbles, “Yeah, okay.”

When they walked into what essentially seems to be a villa, the sight was beautiful. The inside walls were brown, minimalist beige furniture with a large kitchen. There were multiple rooms, an opening that led out to a personal pool, fruits, finger foods plastered around the kitchen island to welcome the family in the house.

“Dammnn, Toji. You’ did good!” Saanaà calls, the aunt agreeing, “This shit is bougie. You’ must really love Oni’!” 

“She’s aight!,” her brother Nova comments, the dad intervening, “Don’t be mad cause you don’t have a woman to do this for.”

“That’s if he had the money!” Aunt Celeste clowns on him, everyone laughing as Nova smacks his lips, carrying their bags upstairs.

“Let’s go to the beach! I need to see the sun set.”

“Ooh, and to see the fine men on the beach!” Her aunt agreed with her moms statement. 

“That too,” Saanaà nods her head, Noel then saying, “You’ tryna be funny, married woman?” With a raised eyebrow.

“Oh boy, don’t start. Y’know I love you…but I also love  looking at fine men!” 

Seioni rolls her eyes with a soft laugh, then saying, “As much as I’d love to watch you two act an ass on this beach, I’m feeling a little nauseated from the plane ride,” she places her hand over her belly, feeling her feet becoming heavier as she stands. Toji immediately wraps his arm around her, steadying as he knows her feet hurt at times.

“You alright, baby?” Toji is immediately concerned, having the urge to pick her up to keep her feet off of the ground.

“Do you need us to stay with you?” Her mom asks, now becoming equally worried. 

She shakes her head, “No—actually, take Megumi with you, if that’s okay. I’d love for him to see the water. Let him spend some time with y’all, Toji can stay here and make sure I don’t roll down the stairs,” she weakly jokes, pulling her hair behind her ear tiredly.

Her mom nods her head in agreement, looking over at Toji with a curious look, “You don’t mind?” 

Toji shrugs his shoulders, “Nah. I can stay here and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself,” he half-jokes, shifting so her body can lean more so on his own.

“Okay, we’ll be back soon. Let’s go, Meggie!” Her aunt picks up the small two-year old, watching as he giggled, wrapping his arms around her neck. 

All in her plan. Once the family exits out the house, Toji looks down as he notices the grin she tries to suppress. He raises an eyebrow, realizing she had been trying to find a reason to get her family out of the house without actually having to ask.

“You’re a terrible actor,” he hums, “You just wanted me all to yourself? Selfish ass.” 

“Mhmmm,” she hums back, happy as can be, tugging him towards the master bedroom. 

It was more beautiful than she imagined. A crisp white bed next to a walk in shower, green marble in the structure of the walls. As they look out to the balcony, there’s a clawfoot tub that looks out into the beauty of the green trees, a sight that she could look at forever. 

She felt a pang in her chest as she was now alone with him, as if this wasn’t her fiancée that’d she’d been with for the past two years. He knew every part of her body, so why was she afraid to show it? 

She faced the wall of the shower as she undressed. Toji instantly notices how she refuses to look at herself, but says nothing. He didn’t wanna cause an argument— at least for now. 

The tub is now filled, flower petals drenched beneath the warm water, multicolored and ethereal to their eyes. Seioni leans against the top of the tub as she stares out at the horizon, her long bohemian braids claw clipped out of her face, skin bare of makeup as her freckles tattoo against her cheeks and nose. The sunlight beamed against her brown skin, she couldn’t look away from it. Toji was the opposite—he couldn’t look away from her. 

She continued to ramble, “So, I was thinking about baby names again. I had been looking into some Japanese names for a girl, and I saw the name Kiyomi—I thought it was so cute. It’ll fit into our little family, everyone ending in ‘I’s’. Megumi, Seioni, Toji, you get what I’m saying? And then I can give her a little nickname like ‘Omi’ cause it sounds like me! ‘Oni’! Yeah?” 

When she hears no response and realizes she might’ve been talking too much, she stops, noticing the way he leans his head slightly as he stares at her. 

She leans herself into the water as she gives a small 

smile, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

His gray eyes continued to stare at her, tracing every dip and curve of her body with his gaze as he spoke, “You’re so pretty, baby.”

She rolls her eyes, “Were you even listening?” coming closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she comes onto his lap. The warm water engulfs both of their skin.

Toji allows her to adjust herself onto his lap, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist once she is situated. He hums as he buries his face into the crook of her neck, his lips attaching to her warm throat.

“I was listening,” he murmurs, “Kiyomi is a nice name, perfect for a pretty little girl. Just like her momma.”

He continues to press kisses against her skin, teeth gently nipping at the skin of her shoulder. She sighs, feeling that she wanted to have a conversation about what was going on in her head. But she knew that Toji wouldn’t be too happy to hear the unhappiness she felt, and she didn’t want to ruin the trip. 

“You’ve been all quiet on me since we got here,” she says quietly, “I miss you. Are you feeling…overwhelmed with my family?”

He chuckles, “Nah, I’m good, Mama. I’m just a little tired. We’ve been traveling for hours and your family is on ten at all times. It’s just different.” 

He presses a gentle kiss against her exposed collarbone, “Plus, I’ve been looking forward to being alone with you.”

Her mind wracks at that. She knows they need some time together, without Megumi’s constant whining and crying, without her family regardless of this trip. She thought back to the doctor's words of intimacy, the thought feeling almost virginal to her. She felt…not like herself. She wasn’t looking for a pep talk about confidence. But this belly and the changes in her body, she wasn’t used to it. 

She pulls him closer, letting the petals flow around them within the tub as she asks, “You’d tell me if they were getting on your nerves, right?”

Toji allows her to pull him closer, his arms fully wrapping around her back as he presses a kiss against her shoulder. He chuckled softly at her question, “Your family is cool as fuck. But this conversation isn’t gonna stop you from saying what’s actually wrong with you.” 

She feels the intensity in his stare. Blowing out a breath at the question, her eyes fall back down. This was the time to be vulnerable, but as said before, she didn’t want a scolding in response. 

She shakes her head as she lies somewhat, “Just nervous about the family thing. They can be kinda…controlling?”

His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t lie to me.” 

“I’m not,” she lies again, “So you aren’t worried about getting into it with them? You have a mouth on you.”

Toji gives her a look, knowing that she was bullshitting him. There was definitely more to what she was saying than she was letting on. 

“Nope,” he responds instead, “I do have a mouth on me, but I’m a grown ass man, I know how to— what do you’ be saying? Keep it cute? I’m hip as fuck!” 

“Oh god,” she giggles, wrapping her arms tightly around him, ignoring his chuckle that buried into her shoulder blade. 

Another thought passes of wanting to be upfront with him. But the atmosphere, their moment together—it was too beautiful to ruin. She just hoped he didn’t push about it, knowing that he could read anything on her face. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” She questions, kissing his jaw, pecking his nose, even along his cheeks.

His eyes dart over her face as she begins to pepper all over his cheeks with kisses. She attempts to act cutesy in order to distract him from the question, knowing all too well that she’s doing so. She was good at it too. 

He sighs as a small smirk forms on his face, “Nah, do you know how I love you?” he responds.

“Mmm, as much as the moon loves the stars within the sky?” She cheekily responds, pressing her forehead against his, feeling his hand press gently along her stomach.

Toji chuckles and rolls his eyes at her dorky response, one of his hands gently rubbing at her stomach while the other rests on her hip. He smirks at her, “Corny ass. I love you more than that.” 

When he kisses her, it feels breathless as he holds her jaw while sucking his lips into her mouth, as if it had more meaning behind it. When he pulled back, the warmth against her face and the dumb smile along it wouldn’t falter. She loved this man. 

“Now, back to the name game. I’m thinking Toji Jr, or Megumi-Toji-Jr, or, Toji-Megumi-Jr, yeah?” 

Seioni rolls her eyes. She loves him, even if he was a damn idiot. 

As the sun sets along the island, Seioni and Toji meet the rest of her family out towards the beach, a family dinner now taking place. Her black baby tee and a long matching skirt that draped down to her ankles, orchid sandals and a matching flower along the side of her hair made her feel somewhat decent—even if she kept glancing down at her stomach— She waved excitedly as everyone cheered when they arrived, Toji holding her hand behind her to make sure she didn’t trip within the sand. 

He was like a baby, wanting to have a tantrum when she asked him to wear a Hawaiian button up, the man wanting to die before he put on patterned clothes. Instead she got him to wear a pair of black and white flowered swimming trunks, white long sleeve clinging to his broad frame—he still wasn’t entirely happy about it.

The group had set up a makeshift table on the sand, chairs and a checkered picnic blanket set out. The sun was setting, the ocean and sky turning into a blend of oranges and pinks, the scene quite breathtaking. 

The family sat around the table, eating and making small talk. Toji leaned into the seat, his body relaxed and his hand rested on Seioni’s lower back. Despite them being his soon to be in-laws, Toji found her family entertaining enough, able to keep him interested with their banter back and forth.

Hula dancers suddenly appeared as they all talked, their villa's host also appearing as he welcomed them to Maui. The family was amazed as some of the girls performed fire tricks, their hips moving in ways that were more than talented. It wasn’t too long before Megumi stood from where he sat next to Seioni and Toji and played in the sand, running up to them as he began to dance—which was jumping around in a baby’s attempts to find rhythm, giggling as the hula girls smiled at him.

The family laughed at the adorable sight before them, Toji chuckling at the little dancing Megumi, jumping around and babbling. It was extremely cute, the hula dancers all smiling and waving at the little boy. 

“Don’t think you got those moves from your non-rhythm ass daddy, huh?” Seioni’s aunt giggled. 

“Not too much! I have rhythm!” Toji defends himself, Seioni giggling beside him. 

Everyone was now up— her brother flirting his way into getting one of the Hula girls' numbers, her mom pulling her dad up to dance with her, and her aunt recording Megumi as she shouted, “Go Meg! Go Meg!” 

Seioni hadn’t felt this happy in a while. As she turned her head to kiss Toji, a hula girl came forward, pulling her up off the sand to dance with her, trying to teach her the movement of her hips. 

Seioni giggled, her cheeks warm as she followed, raising her hands above her body as she twisted her hips to follow the music that played.

Toji couldn’t help but smile at her as he watched her follow along with the hula girl. Her body moved in a fluid motion, hips twisting and swaying. Toji’s smile only grew wider, the joy and twinkle in her eyes making his heart skip in his chest. She looked so happy and so free, as if nothing in the world could get in her way. 

His eyes darkened in a different way as he watched how she looked in her tight skirt and top, the way it hugged her curves. He loved her in more ways than one, but at times it felt like he was digging his nails into the surface, trying to hold back a side of him she knew the first night she’d met him. He was becoming impatient, and he was an extremely patient man.

Seioni was now dancing with Megumi, spinning him around playfully. When her Aunt Celeste wanted the baby all to herself, Seioni brought her attention back towards Toji as she leaned down with her arms out, gesturing for him to dance with her.

Toji rolled his eyes slightly as he was pulled to his feet, his hand gripping her as their bodies pressed close together. He chuckled, wrapping one arm around her hips while his other hand gripped hers as they began to sway, his eyes gazing down at her. 

“You really just can’t get enough of me, huh, woman?”

“Never. It’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” 

She sighs, wrapping her arms around his neck, giggling as he pulls her sandals on top of his shoes, twisting her around and holding her up by them. He leans down as he brings his lips to her neck, a small gasp leaving her lips as she feels his palm slam on her ass, pulling her eyes up as she shrieks, “Fushiguro!”

“Don’t act like that. They know how you got pregnant in the first place.” 

“I’m putting a muzzle on you for the rest of the time here,” she tells him, “You’re not being good.”

His eyebrow raises, mischief glistening in his eyes as he chuckles at the threat. He leans in closer, his nose almost bumping against hers. 

“Let me start barking then.”

She rolls her eyes, leaning her face up to kiss him, “Keep talking shit, maybe I’ll put a muzzle on my mouth and you’ll be using that hand all week.”

He raises an eyebrow, “A muzzle on you, huh? That’s some freaky shit. Ooh, girl, you’re nasty.”

Seioni giggles as he fully picks her up and spins her around, kissing away their entire conversation. The family spent hours along the beach, the night nearly going into dawn when they made it back to the villa. Toji felt like he’d been hit by a train, the jet-lag and overall tiredness he felt hitting him all at once as they made their way to bed.

 Megumi was sleeping with Celeste, while Nova and her parents had their own rooms, leaving Toji and Seioni alone to themselves. His hand rubbed her stomach until she fell asleep, finally allowing his own eyes to close once he knew she was comfortable. 

…But just as he was deep within his rest, a knock came pounding at their door. It felt like he’d just closed his eyes. 

“Good morning Love Birds, we’re all going to breakfast!” 

Her mom calls through the door. When she doesn’t hear anything, she knocks again. Still silent. She then makes the decision to open the door without asking permission, walking towards the bed as she tugged at the covers along their feet.

“I know y’all hear me!”

Seioni groans softly, her eyes blinking open to see her mom standing at the end of the bed. She says to her softly, “Hi, mommy.”

As she turns, she sees Toji is also awake—practically giving her mom the death stare, his eyes only peeking above the covers, pulling Seioni closer to him. 

“The fuck?” he grumbled, still glaring.

“Toji,” she scolded softly, tapping his chest at his reaction, “We’ll be down there in a minute, mom.”

“‘The fuck I am,” he disagreed under his breath, deepening himself under the covers.

“Hurry up! I love me some French toast, it’ll be gone in seconds!”

With that, her mom slams the door, Toji almost wanting to throw something against the wall at all the loud sounds imploding his ears.

Seioni sighs, running a hand over her face as she murmurs, “What time is it?”

“Too early to be having motherfuckers slamming the door open talking about some dumb ass French toast,” Toji mutters back, immensely irritated. 

“Hey, that’s my momma you’re talking about, jackass. Tighten up,” she flicks his nose, “Why are you so grumpy? You’ literally get up at the ass crack of dawn to go to work. What’s so different now?”

“Because? I’m not at work right now?” His voice held a grumpy tone, obviously not amused by her mother’s sudden appearance. 

His eyes narrowed as he looked up at her, “How the hell can you even act so calm right now? You hate your sleep being interrupted.”

“Because we’re on vacation and should enjoy every moment we have together, Fushiguro,” she pulls his face up to meet hers, squeezing his cheeks as she says, “Lighten up, Muffin?” 

His hands reach up to take a hold of her wrists, his irritation only building, “No.” he says firmly. 

“Mean ass,” she insults, “Maybe you do need some breakfast.”

His eyes peek open at that. When he glances down at her appearance, scarf around her hair and in his jersey, the vanilla spray she spritzed on herself before they went to sleep inhaled his senses—this is when he found her most attractive. 

Maybe he did need to relax. His eyes darken as he comes closer, his lips along her neck as he sucks at the skin, coming up as he latches a kiss against her mouth. 

He grunts, “You’re right. Open your fuckin’ legs, I’m hungry.” 

Her body tenses up as he kisses her, his hand along her belly making her want to squirm. What if she wasn’t as seductive as she used to be? 

She was doing her best to keep up with him, that much he knew. He could feel it in the kisses, the way her body reacted to his touch. But she wasn’t fully giving herself to him. He wanted more from her. He needed that hunger that he knew she was holding back—He needed her to be as desperate as he was. 

He let out a low growl between their kisses, clutching her hair within his fingers as he tugged her head back, licking the skin of her throat. She whimpers softly, “Toji…”

“Quit holding back,” he murmurs against her skin. He can feel her breath hitch again, her body trembling in his grip, “Let me make you feel good.”

A soft moan comes from her lips as she grabs his hair in her fingers, head falling back as she tries to relax her body. For a moment she felt okay. But when she notices how he has to hover over her to not hit her belly, her insecurities come crumbling onto her. 

It was also right on time, another knock coming to the door as her mom calls, “I know y’all don’t want me to bust in this damn room again!” 

She stopped him. Pressing her hand against his jaw to push him back, she says softly, “Maybe we should just go get breakfast.”

Knock, knock, knock. 

His eyes narrow, irritation returning, this time for a completely different reason. This was the last thing he wanted. He was finally getting somewhere with her, she was finally letting herself go, and now they were being interrupted again. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

She sighs, “I don’t need the house cussing us out, everyone has to eat together in my family,” she briefly explains, “Plus…my belly is kinda…in the way…” 

She brushes her self deprecating thoughts away as she sighs, “Lets just go.” 

“‘The fuck are you talking about?”

She ignores that question. Now standing from the bed, she removes her scarf as her braids come falling around her face, edges still sculpted perfectly as she pulls on some house slippers, going to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

His eyes follow her as she stands, his mood now more than just sour. She really thinks that his thoughts have changed because of a baby bump? He loves her, and nothing about her looks or her body would ever change that. 

But just like her—he wasn’t in the mood to argue. He swings himself off the bed, running a hand through his messy black hair. His irritation grew the more he thought about her comment.

When they finally make their way into the kitchen's dining area, Seioni politely greets the workers as they place their food against the table, Toji glaring behind her as he sits, quickly greeting the family, “Morning.” 

He sees Megumi sitting at the table with Celeste, rubbing his eyes as he whines softly. When he sees Toji, he raises his arms up, the first time of him wanting his father’s attention since they’ve been here.

He looks to her aunt, “Did you wake him up?”

“We did. Eating together is tradition, that includes sleeping babies! We woke Seioni and Nova up every morning around this time to eat breakfast, tired or not. You have to get used to getting up early,” Saanaà tells him. 

“He has trouble sleeping, I don’t need him waking up if he’s finally asleep. That makes him irritated throughout the day, and he won’t stop fussing,” Toji says, voice filled with annoyance from what Seioni could read. She lightly places her hand over his.

Her touch manages to calm him down a bit, although his irritation was still there. He was just happy that at least she was calm, he didn’t want her stress levels to go up.

“He’ll be okay, nothing a pacifier can’t fix!” Her aunt then chimes in, an uncomfortable tension now in the air. 

Seioni then lightly passes, “We’re trying to get him off the pacifier, Aunt Celeste.” 

Her mom takes a fork, digging it into her toast as she shrugs, “He’s a baby. No need to do all that extra shit and go by his schedule, you’re the parent. He’s gonna cry regardless. Let him.”

Seioni presses her lips into her mouth. Here they go, she thought.

 As she went to respond to that, Toji leaned forward as Megumi still had his hands out for him, the two year old whining as he cradled into his fathers arms. He leaned his head against his shoulder with his thumb now in his mouth.

How was she going to tell him how to raise his own fucking kid? 

Seioni looks to her father and brother, knowing how her aunt and mom could be. They thankfully catch her quiet call for help as Noel says, “So, what’s the plans for today, Oni’?” 

“I was thinking me and Toji could look at some venues in Maui, I really am thinking about a wedding along the beach, as long as it isn’t too hot,” she tells them with a soft smile, clutching her fingers in Toji’s that’s under the table, feeling the tense in his body. 

“You’re doing that today?” Her aunt blinks, “Girl, we have plenty of time for that. Why don’t we go jet-skiing! Or swim with the turtles?”

“Ooh! Jet-skiing sounds nice as hell!” Her mom agrees, the both of them clinking their mimosas together.

Nova then chimes in, “Yeah, momma. That sounds cool. But you wouldn’t wanna go see some beach venues?” He tries to reel both women back in, seeing as this is what his sister wants, and Toji’s eyes narrow as they try to force their itineraries on her.

“Not really. A beach wedding is simple anyways, honey,” Seioni’s mom shakes her head, “Your father married me in a beautiful cathedral, with angels, cherubs and renaissance paintings all against the walls. You should want more than that.”

That makes Seioni blink for a moment, her hand going lax in Toji’s. She knew how her mom could be, wanting things for herself and putting them onto her daughter, she just wished this wasn’t the time she did that.

His fingers twitch under the table, his irritation only growing as the conversation continued. How could they just disregard her? Didn’t they care about what she wanted?

“Well, um—maybe you guys can just go jet-ski and me and Toji will look for venues?” She then suggests, “You can take Megumi, I’m sure he’d enjoy the water way more.”

“Girl, this is a family vacation, meaning we’re all supposed to be together. You’re coming,” her mom finalizes, her aunt then saying, “Toast to that!” The both of them once again clinking those stupid ass mimosas. They were obviously tipsy. 

Eyes fall onto Toji who then stands from the table, holding Megumi as he says, “I’m gonna go try to feed him upstairs and put him down for a nap.” 

Seioni could feel her fiancées annoyance. She could feel the frustration radiating off of him. But she knew he was trying to hold his mouth for the sake of her family. 

She gives him a weak smile as she says, “Okay,” accepting the peck of his lips against hers before he makes his way upstairs.

“Toji can be a grumpy ass man it seems,” her mom points out, not realizing how irritating she’s being. 

“It’s just hard for us to get Megumi to sleep at times, Momma. Him being woken up this early dismisses the schedule we have him on,” she tries to explain.

“He’ll be okay,” her mom waves her hand, “There’s a lot we’re going to be doing, you both just need to relax a little bit.”

"And it's not all about Megumi," her aunt adds, "You have to think about us. We want to spend time with you, too."

Her eyes narrow slightly as she tries not to get riled up, "I know…”

Her mom takes a sip of her mimosa, her voice lowering, "But just think, is your fiancée seriously gonna be happy with a beach wedding?" 

Seioni can feel her shoulders tense as her mom puts doubt into her mind. She can see what she’s trying to do—maybe it’s starting to work.

“He’s happy with whatever I want, Mom,”  she pulls a braid behind her ear, “The whole reason we came to Maui was because he knew this was one of my places I wanted to get married.”

"Really?" Her aunt's voice is a mix between disbelief and surprise. "That man is happy with whatever you want?" 

Her mom shakes her head, "You really have him whipped, huh?"

“I need to get my husband like that,” her mom then laughs loudly, her aunt then chiming in, “I need all three of my men on my knees like he is!”

“Saanaà,” Seioni’s father scolds, Nova pulling out his phone to dismiss himself from this entire conversation.

Seioni blinks back and forth between them, feeling herself becoming irritated as well. If she let them go on for too long, they started berating everyone around. It wasn’t fun. 

Seioni presses her lips into her mouth as she says, “I’m gonna go take my medicine, we can meet back down here in the next hour for jet-skiing…or swimming with the turtles, yeah?”

Her mom gives her a sly smile, taking another sip of her mimosa, "Mhm, sounds like a plan, honey. Take your meds and we'll see you soon." 

Seioni's dad places his hand on her shoulder, Nova looking up from his phone, giving her a nod, agreeing that everything would be fine. Hopefully.

She could hear her mom and aunt both say, “Beach wedding…” another laugh, another clink of those fucking mimosas. 

As she makes her way upstairs, she opens the door to see Toji sitting at the end of the bed with Megumi as he holds a bowl of eggs towards him, the tv along the wall playing a cartoon that they usually watched together. 

Toji raised the scrambled eggs in his hand as he gestured to the baby, “Eat-eat?”

Megumi stares at the bowl in front of him, his eyes wide as he glances between Toji and the eggs. There's hesitation on his expression, as if he isn't sure if he wants to eat the food or not. Then his stomach growls, and he makes a face.

“No, Eat-Eat,” he pouts, rubbing his eyes, getting eggs within his hair as his tiny fingers rub his face. 

“Eat, eat,” Toji says again, a hint of impatience in his voice. He tries to guide the spoonful of eggs closer to Megumi's mouth, but the little boy turns his head away, refusing to open.

Seioni sighs as she closes the door. Toji looks at her, watching as she crosses her arms over her chest, a blank stare in her face as she keeps her eyes against the floor. The entire tables conversation replays in her head—she felt like this trip was slowly taking a turn. 

“No hungry, Oni’,” Megumi says to her, pushing the spoon away that Toji holds to him. 

Seioni sighs, “Eat-eat, Meggie. Then, go to bed? Yeah?”

Megumi blinks again, a deeper pout coming on his olive cheeks, skin deepening in red as tears gloss his eyes. He pouts, “Paci,” his own way of trying to say Pacifier. Toji shakes his head, “Don’t want you to cry, papa. Please eat-eat.”

He sniffles, leaning forward as he opens his mouth, Toji making a blowing sound with his lips to gain his attention, pushing the spoon within his mouth as he finally accepts the eggs. He watches as Megumi then takes the small bowl he has, beginning to mush the eggs together before shoving them into his mouth, crumbs falling all along the bed.

“You’ good?” Toji then takes his attention towards Seioni. 

She presses her lips in as she nods, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

"You don't look fine," he says bluntly, his eyes lingering. He knows her better than that.

“I’m just…my mom and my aunt are just drinking too much,” she brushes off, “That’s all. I don’t want Meggie to be irritated and sleepy all day, I just…wanna go look at venues.”

"We'll go look at venues," he assures her, his voice gentle. "We can go to every fuckin’ venue on this beach, baby. Whatever you want.”

Seioni takes in another breath. She wanted this vacation to be perfect, and for everyone to be happy. She didn’t want to be a pregnant bridezilla. 

She shakes her head, giving a fake smile as she sighs, “We’ll go jet-skiing, and swim with the turtles. It’ll be fun! We can check out the venues tomorrow.”

It’s unfortunate he could see right through her. 

"You sure about that, sunshine?" he asks, his voice laced with sarcasm. "We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and you can tell your family that. You don’t have to be scared of them.”

She glances over to Megumi who’s now laying on her side of the bed, slowly dozing off as he keeps his eyes upon the show he watches. 

She crosses her arms again as she frowns, “Who said I was scared? I’m a grown ass woman, Fushiguro.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t. But you don’t have to let them walk over you.”

“And I’m not?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, so drop it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

With that, she ignores the smack on his lips, Toji standing to shower, going around her as he pulls his shirt off of his upper body. She doesn’t even jump as the door slams behind him. She keeps her arms crossed, feeling like this was their first argument since they’d been here. This wasn’t going as well as she thought it would.

The disagreement between her and Toji made her feel weird. She didn’t like fighting with him, and now silence filled the tension for the next hour as they got ready for a day at the beach. She thought about her family, her mom, her aunt, she just wished that everyone was on one accord. But more importantly, she didn’t want to be at odds with Toji. 

She watched as Megumi was now fully dressed but asleep on the bed, Toji still within the shower as she was left alone to stare at herself. She stood in a royal blue bikini top and bottom, golden seashells clasped beneath the material under her breasts. She turned to the side, seeing her belly poking out in a way that made her feel huge. She could feel her eyes watering. 

Why couldn’t she stop feeling like this? Why did she wish she was within her regular body, feeling confident and sexy? For herself? For her fiancée? For herself?

She pulled her hair behind her ear as she heard the bathroom open, now feeling Toji’s broad frame beside her, his arms coming around from behind. Her body immediately leaned back against him.

She said softly, “I feel like…I don’t belong in this bikini.”

His muscles flex as he pulls her in closer to him. He leans down, his chin resting on her shoulder as he looks at her through the mirror. 

"Why do you say that?" he asks, his voice gruff but gentle. "You look fuckin’ perfect, baby."

She keeps her eyes down, not wanting to make herself cry, “I don’t know…maybe I should put something else on.”

"You don't have to put something else on," he says, his voice low. He brings his arm around her shoulders and neck, kissing her ear as he says, “You’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet.” 

She holds onto his arm, “You have to say that. You’ll be my husband soon.” 

“And I’ll say it a million times until you know I mean everything I say. Cut that self-deprecation shit out.”

She jumps lightly as she feels his palm slam along her ass, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she rubs the tears that are trying to form in her eyes.

“I’m okay,” she convinces herself, bringing her eyes up as she says, “You look nice.”

Toji smirks as she glances up at him through the mirror, her eyes raking over his bare chest and the towel hanging low on his hips. It’s obvious how she’s trying to change the subject, but he doesn’t mind. 

“Don’t start flirting with me now, I’ll blush like a school boy,” he teases, his eyes glimmering with mischief as he grins at her reflection.

She laughs softly, leaning her face into his arm, inhaling the scent of his cologne. She then whispers, “I don’t…I don’t like when we fight.”

“Neither do I,” he agrees, his voice quieter now. “You’re not scared of your family,” he says, repeating the point he made earlier, “But don’t let them walk all over you, yeah?”

She nods her head, tilting her head to look back at him, “You love me? You won’t throw me into the ocean with the fish?”

Toji grins down at her, his eyes sparkling as he leans his face closer to hers. “I love you, momma. More than you know,” He then chuckles lightly, pretending to ponder over her question. “I may throw you in the water later, though.”

She rolls her eyes, leaning up as she kisses him again. 

The rest of the day had gone more pleasant than either of them expected, assuming the chaos of this morning would roll over into the day. Instead, the family enjoyed their time together. They went out to the water to jet ski, Seioni’s mom and her father on one, Nova by himself, and Toji pulling a fearful Seioni on his own while Celeste and Megumi watched from the boat—Celeste taking videos, per usual. Seioni shrieked as they sped on the vehicle, holding onto him tightly as he perfectly maneuvered throughout the crisp water.

He gunned the engine, causing the jet ski to leap forward, Seioni’s screams and giggles piercing the air. Everyone cheered as they coasted along the water, exploring the sight of the island, seeing the beauty of it from this perspective. When they were back on land they tried out Hawaiian snacks, Seioni for a moment seeing her mother and Toji getting along, cracking jokes with one another in a way that made her happy. She knew him, her brother and her father would immediately click. But to see Toji become close with her mom and aunt, it made her feel warm.

As the sun began to set and the sky turned brilliant hues of orange, pink, and gold, Seioni's family gathered for a barbecue dinner on the beach. They had cooked burgers and hot dogs on grills and set out side dishes and beverages on a long table. Toji sat next to Seioni, one arm around her chair as they all enjoyed the meal together.

In the soft flickering light of the torches and the glow of the sunset, Seioni found herself feeling a sense of peace and contentment that she hadn't expected to feel on this vacation.

They laid out along the sand as they were in a vicious game of Uno, her aunt and mom on their third fruity drinks, giggling as they talked shit to each other. 

Seioni rolled her eyes as she put down her card, “The color is…red!”

Toji laughed as Seioni declared the color, her aunt and mom groaning with frustration. The game had been going on for a while now, with all of them getting progressively more competitive as the drinks continued to flow. 

"You guys need to pay attention," Seioni teased, unable to contain her smirk as she watched her mom and aunt pout. Saanaà rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink as she said, "We're trying."

Her aunt chimed in with a scoff, "Yeah. It's not our fault that the colors are confusing, especially at night."

Toji chimed in, his voice laced with amusement, "Or maybe y’all are just tipsy as hell.”

“Red looks orange to me!” Celeste shook her head, Nova saying, “Orange isn’t even a color!”

The group burst out laughing at that. As they continued to place their cards down, Megumi sat beside Toji, playing in the sand. He stood on his small feet to get a better leverage on the castle Toji had helped him make earlier, but as he leaned against the sand, he began tugging at the shorts he wore, reaching for his diaper.

Seioni notices him tugging at his bottoms, calling him as she asks, “Meggie, go potty?”

He looked at her, nodding vigorously, “Potty.” 

He attempted to get up, but his small feet immediately sank back into the sand, causing him to lose his balance and stumble back down. Toji chuckled, reaching out to scoop him into his arms as he swiftly tugged his diaper open, catching a waft of stench in the baby’s pants. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Meg. Why didn’t you say potty? You don’t want to get a rash,” he talks more to himself, knowing Megumi couldn’t actually respond. Megumi babbles, wrapping his arms around Toji’s neck to hide himself, always becoming shy when he had an accident, knowing they’d been trying to get him on the toilet. 

“That’s because he can barely speak to say he needs to shit. Maybe y’all should’ve taught him that,” Seioni’s mom says, and it almost feels like an insult. With the way everyone went quiet,  it probably was. 

“Mom,” Seioni warns, “He’s two. He’s not gonna speak like the rest of us. He makes gestures when he needs something.” 

“Oh don’t give me that age bullshit, you and Nova knew how to speak perfectly at two. Knew colors. Even could count to fifty. It’s about the parent, and their lack of teaching to their child.”

Toji narrows his eyes, letting his mouth draw first as he questions, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Toji,” Seioni scolds.

“My kid is doing perfectly fuckin’ fine, last time I checked,” Toji sharply replies, “We’re good as fuck over here.”

"The toilet exists yet he still shits himself!" Her mom retorts back, and Toji has to bite his tongue, holding back the urge to curse this woman out. 

“Just say he isn’t fully developed. You don’t have to give excuses, we can teach him something you might not be able to,” Saanaà finalizes, taking another sip of her wine cooler. 

Luckily, Seioni’s dad interrupts the growing tension—before Toji can rip this woman’s head off—his gentle voice trying to diffuse the situation. "Hey, hey. Let's not start fighting. Meggie's just fine.”

Seioni then agrees with a frown, “He’s doing just fine for his age. You’re tipsy.”

“Don’t tell me what the fuck I am, little girl! I’m a grown ass woman, I can drink when I wanna drink!”

“Don’t think ‘cause you got a lil’ family you can start talking to us crazy!” Her aunt pipes in. 

Seioni presses her lips together, watching as Toji then stands from his spot, taking Megumi as they begin making their way back towards the villa. He was upset with her for not only saying anything back to her family, but not defending him, knowing if he defended himself it would cause problems.

Her brother helps her stand from her spot before she follows Toji back into the villa, making her way upstairs as she finds him changing Megumi’s diaper. 

“Baby—“

“Nah. Don’t do that, Seioni. You know that shit was disrespectful as fuck.”

“I know that,” she says back, stepping farther into the door.

“You just sat there and let them say that about Megumi? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Seioni’s eyebrows lower, “‘The fuck do you mean by that? I can’t control my mom’s mouth, nor my aunts. I didn’t expect them to say any of that, Fushiguro.”

“It ain’t ‘bout your mom,” Toji snaps, his jaw clenching as his tone gets louder. He hates how she’s now addressing him by his last name, and with an annoyed grunt, he adds, “You could’ve at least said something about it. Defend us. Me. Something.”  

“You’re a grown ass man, Fushiguro. You could’ve told them something, you didn’t seem too afraid to start snapping up on my mom the minute she started talking about Megumi. Let’s talk about your disrespectful, big headed ass!” She insults, coming closer to him, her head tilting up as he towers over her frame.

Toji scoffs, the corner of his lip lifting up in a sneer. “My disrespectful, big headed ass? My disrespectful ass??”

“How about your disrespectful ass not saying anything when your mom insults our family. That’s what has me pissed. You didn’t stick up for your own motherfuckin’ so-called husband.” 

They’re going back and forth, not realizing that the rest of the family has entered the house. Her aunt and mother are too in their own world to hear the argument, her father trying to sober them up as her brother overhears. 

Nova quickly comes upstairs as he then says, “Hey, uh—I can take Megumi downstairs, I’m gonna make some smoothies, I think he’ll like it?” Trying to make sure the baby wasn’t within the room for their argument.

Toji’s eyes dart towards her brother as he appears, watching as he extends his hands towards Meg, reaching to pick him up. Toji nods and hands the child gently over to him, watching as he leaves the room. 

When he’s out of sight, Toji’s attention turns back to Seioni, focusing his scowl back on her. His face is stern, his hand running through his hair as he speaks, his voice quieter. 

“You should’ve said something. Anything, Seioni.” 

“So all of this is my fault? Let’s not act like you don’t have a fuckin’ mouth on you that I have to constantly put on a leash. What she said was wrong, but to point fingers at me? Fuck that, and fuck you!”

Those words hit right where he didn’t want them to, and a bitter laugh leaves his lips as he shakes his head. 

“This is what the fuck I was talking about. I’ve been so patient with your family. Your mom. Your aunt. Waking me up early as fuck as if I’ve slept, letting them walk all over you and tell you what to do as if you aren’t a grown ass woman. My fuckin’ woman. And now, telling me how to raise my kid? I’ve really been sparing your ass on the civil fact that I don’t want to get into it with your people. I love you too much to do that.”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be thankful on account of that? For not cussing out my mom and aunt? Man of the fuckin’ year, aren’t you?” She tilts her head, her body practically fuming as she becomes more pissed off, “You’re right. They’re a pain in the ass, I know that. You’re smart as fuck to not fix your mouth to say some slick shit to my momma. But instead of taking your lashings out on me, be a man and tell them that yourself! You can use your words without talking out of your neck, Fushiguro!” 

“I am a fuckin’ man!” He shouts, “A man wouldn’t talk out the side of his neck to your family! I’m trying not to act an ass, but you’re taking me there. They’re taking me there. Stop talking to me like I’m stupid as fuck, Seioni.” 

Seioni nearly flinches back at his tone, the anger seeping between them implausible. It's evident he’d been feeling like this for a while, and the reaction was worse than she wanted it to be. When she goes to open her mouth, it’s cut off by the sudden sound of screaming coming from downstairs—they belonged to Megumi. 

The both of them take off without question. When they take sight of the living room, they see Megumi standing in the middle of the marble, holding his arm that’s welted red.

“What happened?” Toji snarls, Seioni immediately picking him up, her heart beating as she says, “What happened to your arm?”

“I looked away for two seconds and his little bad ass put one of his toys in the toilet, and now it’s overflowed!” Her aunt shouts, the look on her brother and father’s face full of shock.

“Did you hit him?” Seioni’s eyes go wide, Megumi’s heavy crying filling her ear as he leans into her chest.

Toji thought he was going to have to kill someone. He saw red, only focused on the welt within his child’s arm. He looks to her mom as he squints, “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind? Why would you hit him? My fuckin’ child? Are you fuckin’ stupid?”

“He needs to learn! Y’all don’t seem to be teaching him shit! putting goddamn toys in the toilet—“

“That's for me to teach him!” Toji yells, deep voice having the entire villa shake, “You don’t get to tell me what the fuck to do about my kid! You and your insolent ass sister have too much liquor in your fuckin’ systems to have some sense!” 

“Aye, watch your fuckin’ mouth when you’re talking to my mom,” Nova warns, Seioni’s brother now glaring at Toji.

Toji was done.

“Or what, huh? ‘The fuck are you gonna do?” Toji’s fists clenched, his muscles becoming tense as he looked at Nova. “You wanna throw hands over your mom, you go right ahead. I’ll make you swallow your motherfuckin’ teeth.” 

Chaos ensues at this point. Megumi was still crying, Seioni tries to hold back Toji who lunges at Nova, and Seioni’s father holds back Nova who cusses out Toji right behind her mom and aunt that do the same. She feels overwhelmed, her worst fears coming to life—her entire family was falling apart. It gets so bad that the villa’s host had heard them from his part of the house, coming in and taking hold of Megumi who nearly falls in Seioni’s arms from tugging at Toji. 

“Stop it!” 

Her voice screams out, gripping Toji fully, tears masking in her vision, her cries catching the attention of the entire family—they’d never heard her raise her voice like that.

They all go silent, even Toji, who is breathing heavily. They all look at Seioni, and Toji is just surprised to be witnessing her on the verge of tears. She’d never looked so distraught. 

The room is filled with silence before her voice speaks up again, this time much less aggressive, much more vulnerable, almost like she was begging to be heard.

“This trip was supposed to be about me. I’ve been all over the place with this pregnancy, and the one thing I wanted was the support of all of you, and to enjoy my time here with my family, and yours all about to fuckin’ kill each other!” 

She raises her voice again, the entire room flinching, shocked to see her like this. She places her hand over her face as she sobs, trying to calm herself as she begins hyperventilating, “I didn’t…I didn’t even get to see one venue…”

The sight of her crying like this makes Toji’s heart want to drop. He frowns, becoming more pissed off at how upset they’ve all made her.

“Baby—“

“No, Fushiguro. Everything’s just…fucking ruined…” she continues to cry, high pitched as she gasps to try to control her breathing.

Toji swallows the lump in his throat, his chest feeling heavy as she speaks. She’s right, this was supposed to be about her, a time for her to get away from all the stress of pregnancy and relax. But instead, they all got wrapped up in their own emotions. 

Everyone feels a pang of guilt. The silence is heavy as Megumi blinks within the hosts’ arms, seeing Seioni’s tears, trying to understand her emotions. 

“Oni’, sad?”

She hears the small voice, her focus now going back to him. He shouldn’t have had to see the bullshit of this situation. 

With that, she politely takes him into her arms, cradling him as she begins making her way out of the villa. Toji’s deep voice calls for her, “Seioni—Seioni!”  going to go after her when her father then says, “Just let her go, Toji. She’ll be fine. She just needs time.”

Toji grinds his teeth at those words, wanting to go after her. He hates leaving her alone when she’s upset, but her father was right. She just needed some time. But that didn’t make leaving any easier. 

He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he closes his eyes, his jaw clenching as he looks back at her family. Nova looks upset, her mom and aunt looking somewhat guilty. No one dared to speak after their outburst, so the living room remained tense.

Seioni makes her way out onto the beach, going farther than she planned for herself to. She walked for what felt like almost twenty minutes, finding a small patch of rocks, a seating area with flowers surrounding it. She sees from afar as children play by the water, placing Megumi beside her as she clumps the sand up for his attention, just needing the comfort of him knowing he wouldn’t have much to say. She then sighs, watching as the sun sets, placing her hands over her belly, rubbing gently. 

“You’re causing havoc before you even get here, Y’know that?” She looks down to her stomach.

The evening wind blows as the sun slowly falls, washing over Seioni’s face, which is puffy and red from her previous tears. As she sits on the little rock, she speaks to her belly, the sound of her baby’s heartbeat filling her ears as she touches her stomach. She finds herself surrounded by tranquility, the soft waves of the water and the laughter of children bringing her comfort.

She then looks at Megumi, leaning her hand out as he wraps his small fingers around her index. She says softly to him, “Oni’ love Megumi. And Papa.”

Megumi takes hold of her finger, his tiny hand around her index. His large round eyes look up at her, a look of curiosity within his gaze. His little nose scrunches as he tries to say something back, but nothing comes out aside from a few babbles, making his little pink lips pursed together.

She giggles, opening her palm as he pats his hand against hers a couple of times, blowing raspberries into his other hand. All of her guilt hits her, despite everyone being the cause of their own issues. She wished her mom and aunt hadn’t been so rude at times, she wishes Toji wasn’t so easy to anger, but she also wishes that she had stood up for him, for Megumi. She loved them both so much, and this was now her family as well. With that, she decides to sit in silence with Megumi, watching as the sun goes down.

                        ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆ ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.  𐦍༘⋆

A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED, and the family was becoming more nervous. When they realized that Seioni wasn’t anywhere near the villa, they also found out she didn’t have her phone. They sent the host to go look for her, Toji nearly about to have a nervous breakdown as he thought the worse.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Toji,” Noel tells him, trying to get him to relax.

“She doesn’t have her phone, and she’s on an island she’s never been to. Pregnant. With fuckin’ Megumi,” he’s angry, he’s unsure why, he just wants to see her. Make sure she’s okay. Was she lost?

“Talking to her while she’s still upset won’t do anything but make shit worse,” he reminds.

Her mother and aunt sit along the couch, now drinking water instead of their usual mimosa or wine cooler. They both feel bad about the way they’ve been speaking to Seioni and her fiancè. 

Her aunt sighs, “Look—we’re so sorry, Toji. Everything that happened was just—wrong. Our control issues, hitting Megumi, trying to tell you what to do—You’re a good father, and will be an amazing husband.”

Her mom then nods her head, “She’s right. We’re happy to have you in our family, Toji. We’re so sorry about everything that’s happened.”

Toji exhales deeply, the words from her mother and aunt bringing him a sense of comfort, though he's still anxious as to when she'd return. He glances out the windows, the sun fully falling now in the distance. 

"We can talk about this later, but I appreciate it. I just wanna make sure my wife is okay.”

“We’ cool too, right? I only was about to fight cause you were talking crazy to my momma, although it was fair. She get on my damn nerves too, you’re cool as fuck, though,” Nova finds his way of apologizing, his mom smacking the back of his head for his words.

Toji lets out a gruff sigh and turns to Nova, giving him a small nod. He didn't blame the guy for being protective, he probably would've done the same thing. His words get a small laugh from him. 

"We’re good. You were trying to look out for your mom. I can't blame you for that.“

Tension comes off of everyone, and the room feels lighter. But one thing remained the same—Seioni was still missing. 

Another hour and a half passed, and Toji was now frustrated, still worried, but even more irritated. She entered back into the villa without saying anything, holding Megumi’s hand as she let him walk.  

The minute she closed the door, Toji was the first one to speak up, “And where the fuck have you been?”

He couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean to be harsh, but he missed her greatly. He was scared shitless for anything to happen to her. 

Seioni lets go of Megumi, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks at Toji, not replying to his aggression. 

Her mom takes that notion as she stands, “How about we all go take a walk on the beach and let these two talk, hm?”

Nova swoops Megumi into his arms, everyone practically flying out of the house—including the host—closing the door behind themselves. Seioni then begins making her way upstairs, Toji nearly breaking his neck as he watches her walk away from him, saying nothing. He of course follows behind her.

“So I’m not talking right now? ‘The fuck am I being ignored for?”

“I’m fine, Toji. Okay? I’m fine, you see? I’m here,” she clarifies, “I just needed space.”

"You've been gone for damn near three hours. Excuse me for being worried.” He snaps back, his worry slowly becoming anger. He steps closer towards her, his voice still low. 

“What if something happened? You didn’t have your phone, alone on an fuckin’ island—“

Her usual response would’ve been to snap back at him. But she can see the tense in his shoulders, the drain in his face. She comes forward, bringing her hands to his face as she pulls him down, “Hey,” she says softly, “I’m fine, Fushiguro.” 

She knows he’s not angry at her— he was terrified—and didn’t know how to show it. She can feel him nearly shaking, wrapping her arms around his neck as she inhales his scent.

 She says quietly, “I missed you too.”

When she grabs his face, he almost flinches, not anticipating the action. But as soon as she speaks, his shoulders slightly relax. 

He feels her arms around his neck, and his arms instinctively go to her waist, his hands grabbing her hips as he tugs her body against his. He buries his face into her neck, breathing her in as he feels himself shake. His voice is hoarse as he talks, not pulling away from her just yet. 

“I was scared as hell.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, “I just…needed time to think.” 

Her tone makes him replay everything that’s happened on this trip, and he feels guilty, wishing he would’ve been more upfront about his feelings, wishing it hadn’t gotten this far.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice quiet. His hands tighten around her hips as he moves his face close to hers. “I should’ve been honest.”

She then pulls him back down, clutching him as if she feels like he would pull away at any second. She muffles into his shirt, “You’re a great dad—please know that. You’ll be an equally amazing husband, baby.”

He closes his eyes and buries his face back into her neck, his chest rising and falling as he tries to slow his racing heart. Her words bring comfort to him, and they make him feel better, but he can’t stop feeling guilty about what’s happened. 

“I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he grunts into her neck.

“I love you too,” she says softly, “I’m sorry I’ve also been…distant. I’m just—I’m not used to this whole pregnancy thing. I feel like…I’m not as attractive as I used to be.”

He listens intently as she speaks, feeling her breath against his neck. He pulls back to look at her, seeing the look of vulnerability across her features. It makes his chest clench tighter, seeing the insecurity in her eyes. 

“You are,” he says, his voice firm yet soft, “You’re sexy as hell, baby. You couldn’t change that even if you wanted to.” He gently touches her face, his eyes staring into hers.

Here go those tears she’d been trying to hold. Seioni gives a weak laugh as she quickly tries to wipe face, Toji brushing her cheek as he drags his hands down to her throat, clutching her forward, his eyes growing dark as he can feel she doesn’t believe his words.  

He grunts, “C’mere,” clutching her lips under his mouth. The aggression makes Seioni’s breath hitch, her tears spraying along her cheeks as she feels his body radiating a feeling she hadn’t endured in a while—lust. And he had been so patient with her.

“Toji—“

 Her voice is of a desperation he hadn’t heard in a while, her legs feeling weak as his lips are against her neck, quipping a match along her skin, blazing a fire within him. God, he’s missed the sound of her.

The way his body heats up as he kisses her, he can’t help but feel overwhelmed with desire, and it only gets worse the more tears fall down her cheeks. He has to show her what she means to him. 

She squeals lightly as he effortlessly wraps her legs around his hips, carrying her over towards the bed. Her eyes stare right across from the large mirror within their room. Her reflection. A heart beat thumps in Seioni’s chest as he raises her legs over his shoulders, dropping down onto his knees, ache, hunger within his eyes as hers are closed. 

“Keep your fuckin’ eyes open. Look at me.”

Her gasp could’ve shaken the house. He shoved her dress back, his tongue instantly dragging up her core, moaning against her like she was a desert he hadn’t tasted in a while. 

“Been wanting your pussy in my mouth since we got here, Baby. Fuck.” 

Seioni legs tremble to where she couldn’t control them, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she gripped his hair, kneeling back as her chest faltered. His head bobs up and down, slurping against her pussy in a way that makes a loud sound against the room. Her body quivers as she whimpers, “O—Oh—f—fuck, baby.”

Toji growls against her, the vibrations sending shudders through her body. His hands move to grip her thighs, holding her in place as he continues to devour her. He pulls back momentarily, panting heavily as he looks up at her. "You're so fuckin’ wet," he groans, his fingers tracing circles on her inner thigh. “I missed the taste of you." 

Seioni’s body buzzes as his head quickly dips back down between her legs, his tongue delving inside of her once again. He uses one hand to spread her opening wider, allowing his tongue to explore every inch of her. He licks and sucks at her clit, nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh before moving lower to lap at her entrance.

She feels flustered, her face warm as she looks at herself within the mirror. Her large belly, her flushed cheeks. She closes her eyes again. Her heart skips a beat when she feels one of his hands snake up through her body, pulling her face right to the mirror across from them, spreading her legs wider. 

His free hand reaches around to cup one of her breasts, thumb rubbing over her nipple through the fabric of her dress. He leans in, his breath hot against her ear as he whispers, "So beautiful... I want to fuck you everywhere..."

Her breath hitches in response, “Baby, I…” 

“That’s not my name,” Toji grunts, bringing his face back down, sucking her clit into his mouth, groaning as he shakes his head from side to side, digging his lips deeper against her arousal that begins collecting against his jaw. 

He holds her leg up by the ankles now, “Look at me eating your pussy, fuckin’ love every second of it. You taste like heaven. Can’t fuckin’ get enough of you.” 

She nearly throws her hands over her face, the warmth going into pure heat as she whimpers, “Stop it, Fushiguro,” shuddering as he deeply kisses her core, dragging his tongue down to her opening. 

“Shut the fuck up. Gonna put my tongue in you so deep, baby. Wanna see you squirt on my face. I miss that shit.”

She gasps, placing her hands back in his hair as he does exactly what he promised, spitting against her core before he takes it back into his mouth. He then pulls back, sticking his tongue out as he pushes it into her opening, listening to it squelch. He moans right when she moans, spreading her legs wider, rolling his jaw forward as he fucks his mouth deeper into her.

Toji continues to feast on Seioni's wet folds. He can't get enough of her taste, his tip throbbing painfully against his pants. The sounds she makes only serve to spur him on, driving him wild with lust. He feels her grip his hair tightly, her hips bucking against his face as she tries to chase her release.

He pulls back momentarily, panting heavily as he stares up at her. His eyes are glazed with desire, his lips glistening with her juices. He grins wickedly as he sees the desperation in her eyes, his own need mirrored there. "Not gonna stop until you cum all over my face," he growls, diving back in with renewed vigor.

The feeling is all too intense for her, body shaking as she messily groans, “Mmm—f—fuck,” it transferring out into a gasp and whine, her lower body relaxing as she cums  into his mouth, not giving her enough time to enjoy the feeling of him eating at her. The reaction makes him arrogantly chuckle, her body jumping more as he spanks her in response, “Ooh, that’s fuckin’ good baby. You’re sensitive. You’re gonna cum on my dick just like that.”

She feels like she could black out at any moment, holding onto him for dear life as he brings his attention back up to her clit. He then takes two of his fingers, sliding them deep into her. Her pussy pushes out air as a reaction, her head falling back as she whines in response, staring down as she whimpers, “Fushiguro…”

"So fuckin’ tight," he groans, his free hand reaching down to unzip his pants. His tip springs free, already leaking pre-cum, needing her.

“Fingers feel too big,” she whimpers, the longing of anything inside her making her feel a pinch at just his fingers—she wasn’t sure what she could handle. 

“I’m gonna stretch your shit out, give you the dick you’ve been crying for,” he grunts, his fingers slamming into her, sloshing against her walls, erogenous and fluttering around his palm. 

“Missed your fuckin’ pussy, baby,” he leans down, giving a gentle kiss on her thigh, “You’ missed me?” 

Seioni let out a deep breath, nodding her head as she whimpered out, “Missed you so much, baby.”

His eyes go dark, reminding her, “That’s not my name. You’ know my fuckin’ name. Say that shit.”

She felt herself falling apart already, her mind and body feeling fuzzy as she spreads her legs wider, “Keep eating my pussy,” she begs to him, another spank palming along the back of her thigh.

His eyes came up, “You’re begging me now?” 

She nods her head, “Want it so bad,” she whimpers. 

“No you don’t. Keep fuckin’ begging.”

She holds him by his hair, grinding her pussy against his face, sucking air into her mouth as his tongue delves in and out of her, the spread of her legs feeling so good. She felt like an addict, suddenly needing more from him.

His smirk grows wider at her response, his fingers digging into her thighs as he keeps going. His tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it into his mouth, humming in delight at the taste of her.

“N—Need more of you so fuckin’ bad, baby. Please…” she begs, bringing her hands to where her legs are, holding them up herself.

 It makes him chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ nasty, baby,” grunting, spanking her in repetitions. 

When he comes up, her arms feel numb as she tries to grip onto him, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he huffs to her, “Taste yourself,” gripping her throat.

He can feel her shaking, her body trembling. It had been a while since she felt this good, a slight pressure releasing, but not fully. As he stands, he clutches her by her hair, pulling her to where she gets on her knees, dragging her back towards the edge of the bed as he says, “You know how I want you—get on all fours.”

She complies, almost missing this side of him, the primal, animalistic side he tried to hold back with her pregnancy. She obliges, pressing her palms and knees against the bed, arching herself to the best of her ability. Her cheeks feel warm as she’s still looking directly at herself. 

He briefly pauses his dominant gestures as he asks, “You’ okay, baby? Need a pillow so you’re comfortable?”

She blinks, then nods her head. That didn’t feel like enough to him. 

“Use your fuckin’ words,” he commands with a grip to her hair, his palm lightly patting against her face. She nods, becoming more aroused as she says softly, “Yes, please. Thank you, Daddy.”

It’s all he’d been looking for. 

He takes a pillow as he places it under her belly, giving her another soft kiss, then making her entire body jump as he spanks her with his palm. She watches as he removes his shirt, her mouth practically watering at the sight of him. She places her hands along his hard stomach, running her fingers down as she moans, “Missed you so-so much, baby.”

She’s tugging at his pants, unable to help herself as she’s pulling his dick from beneath his boxers, already wrapping her lips around his tip. Her eyes are feline, mischievous as she wraps her fingers around the base of him, bobbing her head as she begins to seductively suck.

She sticks her tongue out, slapping it along her taste buds that makes him smirk down, tugging her hair as he gently smacks his hand along her face, “Missed my dick like that, huh?” 

She nods her head, the shyness she had before trying to break its walls down. He groans as she pulls her head forward, shoving his dick into the back of her throat, filling her entire mouth as her eyes roll to the back of her head, jaw lax as she chokes. It makes his head tilt back, gritting his teeth as he reaches forward, slamming his palm against her ass.

She pulls him out of her mouth as she rotates her hand against his tip, “Want you to fuck me from behind, please.”

In a way, he feels evil. Purposely wanting her in front of the mirror—he loved watching her, and he loved to make her watch herself. 

He’s now behind her, making sure the pillow is directly beneath her stomach, pressing kisses along her neck, clutching her throat from behind. He then pulls himself up, his broad frame large above hers, eyes dark as he watches her face. 

Seioni’s hips jerk as she feels his tip in between her folds, swollen and calling to pull him in. 

They both listen to themselves, a tight clutch returning  in the mess of her hair as he slowly and agonizingly pushes into her. Her eyes fall close, her fingers gripping the sheets beneath her. She digs her teeth into her lip, desperately trying to hold back the music that wants to spill from her mouth. But as he wraps his fingers around her throat from behind, mouth by her ear as he says, “Wanna feel just how much you miss me,” rolling his hips deeper into her, Seioni’s eyes roll to the back of her head, a whine shivering from her lips as she cums again, gushing out after several seconds. 

His fingers somehow slide into her mouth as she loses her mind, moaning incoherently as she pants against his palm, eyes striking back to the mirror. Toji groans against her throat, sultrily laughing as he begins dragging her back onto him, grinding his hips forward, listening to their skin clap together. 

“Shit,” baby,” she moans onto his fingers, Toji against her ear as he grunts, “Yeah? This all you wanted?” 

He clutches her mouth, the bite of her teeth is the grip he has on her, Seioni only able to hear the way their skin latches onto one another before letting go, wanting to hear it again, again, and again. 

“Fuck, Daddy,” she whines, unable to hold her mouth back, feeling like she was about to spiral.

Her body felt on overdrive, it being so long since she felt this type of pleasure. Her eyes watch them within the mirror, Toji’s broad frame practically shadowing hers, tugging her back onto his abdomen, the sound within the room too filthy to listen to. 

She turns her head slightly, her eyes looking up to his as she trembles, “Missed you…missed you inside me…”

Toji growls, "You don't need to miss anything, baby." He rolls his hips, pushing his length deeper into her warmth. "Just let me take care of you.”

She then whimpered softly, “…Feeling a little uncomfortable though, baby,” the position making her back begin to ache from the arch of it, an unfortunate case from her pregnancy. 

He obviously didn’t want to hurt her, taking the pillow and laying it horizontally, positioning her body to where she now lays on her side against the bed. He positions himself behind her as he holds one of her legs upwards, making sure the both of them are still reflected into the mirror.

His hand rubs over her stomach affectionately, positioning his tip between her folds from behind, his palm coming between her legs. He then lifts her outer leg, finding her clit and rubbing gently as he asks, “Feel good, baby? Need to stop?” All while peppering kisses against her neck. She grabs his hair from behind, moaning softly as she nods her head, “I’m okay…Keep going, please.”

He groans deeply as he thrusts into her, his hand reaching around to cup her breasts. He continues to move in and out of her, his thrusts deep and powerful, lips attaching to her ear, the feeling making her shiver. When his hand clasps back around for her throat,her eyes appear back open, seeing the sight in front of her. His broad frame captures from behind, holding her leg with one hand, clasping her throat with the other, eyes dark and hooded, grunting within her ear. She realizes just how much this man found her attractive, and it made her more horny. He loved her.

“Look at you,” he talks within her ear, holding her down as he snaps his hips, “So fuckin’ pretty, so fuckin’ needy for me. Missed you…so fuckin’ much baby…” he grunts out the last words, it slipping into a moan, Seioni turning her head, sticking her tongue out in a way of asking for a kiss.

He leans down, capturing her lips in a rough, passionate kiss. His free hand reaches up to grip her hair, pulling it slightly as he pushes his dick deeper inside of her.

When her eyes fall down to the bed, Toji grips her face, pointing her directly at the mirror as he says, “Fuckin’ gorgeous. Gonna have all my kids, my fuckin’ wife.” ” 

His voice makes something within her feel emotional. All of her insecurities melted into her brain, her eyes feeling like they were close to filling with tears as she moaned within his mouth, clutching his face in her hands as she whimpered, attempting not to allow herself to cry. 

“Don’t cry, baby. You’re too pretty for that,” he grunts, yanking her hips back, “Cry cause’ I’m fuckin’ you so good.” 

She whimpers again, “You’re just saying all that ‘cause you love me.”

He chuckles, "Maybe." He continues thrusting into her, his pace unrelenting. His hand leaves her hip, moving down to her clit where he begins rubbing circles around it. "But mostly 'cause you're driving me fuckin’ crazy," he growls, nipping at her earlobe.

She twists her head, raising her face to meet his mouth as she trembles, “L—Love you so much…”

“Only other times you’re sweet and shit,” he says against her ear, listening to the way she trembles out another gasp, “Is when you’re about to cum.”

He takes one hand as he places it along her shoulder, the other on her hip, eyes dropping down to watch the way her ass bounces onto his abdomen, leaving a collection of arousal each time he digs deeper into her.

 He groans, feeling his own orgasm approach rapidly. He lifts her off his dick momentarily, lining himself up before slamming into her harder.

It makes her gasp deeply, her legs quivering to where she tries to press her palm onto her thigh to stop the shaking, feeling a hand grab hers, holding it up to her throat and trapping it along his palm as he fucked her even harder. 

His lips are against her ear, heavily breathing, his own stomach forming butterflies. He tries to suppress the low moan that drops from his mouth as he talks, “All that creaming on my dick, need you to cum.” 

Her voice is gone, eyes flutter shut as she can’t stop hyperventilating, talking through her gasps, “Gonna’ cum, Daddy…”

He snarls, his grip on her wrist tightening. "Then fuckin’ cum on me, Mama," he orders, his thrusts becoming brutal, “Would give you another fuckin’ baby if I could. Pussy is…” he grunts, a sound she hadn’t expected coming from him, a whimper as his eyes tightly shut, “So fuckin’ good, baby. Fuck. I love you.”

That sound sends her over the edge. Her entire body halts as she goes quiet, hearing the sound of herself gushing out, orgasm taking over her entire frame as she hides her face within the sheet, sobbing as he continues slamming her ass down onto his hips. The hand still on her neck drags up to her jaw, forcing her eyes back to the mirror again. 

“Fuckin’ love looking at you…” he pants, “All mine. Gonna be all mine, can’t fuckin’…” he whimpers again, “Can’t wait, baby.” 

He then turns her head, swallowing her sobs as he thrusts harder, clutching her face as he moans into her mouth, it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. A warmth fills her, their breaths collected together as they pant heavily.

She could still feel Toji’s hand upon her face, dragging his thumb against her jaw, taking in the way she looked at the moment. Vulnerable—connected to him. 

“You’re gonna be an amazing mother, baby.” 

Her eyes come open as she hears that, blinking at his words. It felt meaningful to her, she couldn’t have asked for a better partner. She takes his hand as she kisses it, turning over as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

As they laid in each other’s embrace, the soft sounds of their breathing filling the air, Toji’s fingers danced along her body. He traced every curve and line, committing every inch of her to memory. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for her to be in his arms. The woman of his dreams was in front of him, in his arms, with their child growing in her womb. 

The moment wasn’t ruined— but felt to be cut short as it sounded like the door opening to the villa. They heard the voice of her brother call, “Aye! Scream if y’all in here fuckin’!”

They then heard the sound of a smack—Nova getting palmed in the back of his head by her mom— as she says, “Shut up! Just cause you can’t get none doesn’t mean they can’t!—but if y’all are in here having sex, have some decorum! There’s a baby in the house!”

Toji grins into Seion’s neck as he hears her mother smack her brother. He presses a gentle kiss into her throat as he chuckles, “There goes your loud ass family.”

“Unfortunately,” she sighs, accepting the kiss, “We should get dressed, I’m starving.” 

“When are you not hungry, Pac-Man?” 

“Oh?” she blinks, “That was a fat joke. I’m gone!”

She holds her belly as she begins coming off of the bed, Toji trying to hold back his laugh as she’s waddling around, searching for the dress she previously wore. 

“You’ laughing? This shit is funny?”

“Nope,” he raises his hands up, “You’ mad? Don’t love me no more? You were just calling me by my second na—“

“Fushiguro!” 

“Why are we going downstairs? We can always stay up here and discuss why I think this baby should be named Toji-Seioni-Megumi-Jr?” 

“I’m never speaking to you again.”

“That’s cool. We got time.”

Seioni groans as she continues waddling for the bathroom, throwing her middle finger up as he sarcastically blows a kiss at her. She was annoyed within the moment, but one thing she could agree to—they had time. An eternity of it.

[bad268]

Hi!

I’ve loved your fica for a while, and thought I should just man up and request.

Could I get an Ollie (F1) fic, where his partners older siblings are super protective when they first meet him? Something like that would also be ok, take creative liberty with however you want to make it :)

Much love from the great white north 🤍

Gimme the Key (Ollie Bearman X Leclerc! Reader)

Fandom: PRF/Formula 1

Requested: Clearly (I took me too long to realize where the great white north was but I got it now lol Much love to you <3<3)

Warnings: None (I think)

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1308

Summary: Your family likes to barge in at the worst times, but the most recent time made them lose their privileges.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You wished you had thought of this exact scenario when you decided to give your family a key to your new townhouse. You had recently moved into your own apartment in Italy as it was closer to your university, and honestly, you just wanted to move out. You were almost 20, and you wanted a little bit of freedom.

The fact that you had also just hit two years with your boyfriend may have also played a role in your sudden need for independence. You and Ollie had met randomly on a bike ride and hit it off. You didn’t initially know that he was a racing driver or that he knew your brothers until maybe your tenth or eleventh date. By that point, you were already together for a couple of months.

At first, you thought that would have scared him away, but he was in too deep.

Over time, your relationship progressed naturally, and when he made it to Formula 1, you decided to get a shared apartment. Then, when you found this townhouse, you two couldn’t pass it up. There was space for you both to have separate offices for work and simulator set-ups. It was almost the halfway point between an airport and your university. It was close to town without being too close to town. It was everything you could have wanted! You couldn’t turn it down.

You moved in and got settled in with no problems.

Truth be told, you should have expected something like this to happen because you had three very overprotective brothers who had no concept of privacy. You should have known that they would barge in unannounced under the rationale of “checking in on you” and “making sure you weren’t lonely” at the worst possible time. They had done it a few times, so you knew this was a possibility. You just didn’t want to believe it.

The first time they showed up unannounced, you were putting away the new glassware you just bought. Ollie had to head to Maranello for his seat fitting with Haas, and he, quite literally, just left less than five minutes before your brothers came barging in. Charles and Arthur just waltzed through the door, saw you putting dishes away, and decided to stay and help. 

While they were there, you decided to have them build some furniture while you did some more cosmetic changes to the house. Together, they built your bed frame, dresser, bedside tables, and bookshelf while you painted a wall in the common room and hung up some pictures. 

Ollie was shocked at how productive your day was until you explained that Charles and Arthur had turned up. That made more sense.

The next time they showed up, you had a couple of friends over as you worked on a course project, and Ollie was out with his friends. Doing what, you had no clue, and you didn’t care. Still, Enzo, Charles, Arthur, and your mum showed up with dinner because they weren’t sure you could “cook for yourself.” 

Needless to say, you were quite embarrassed as they said this in front of your course friends. You made sure to tell them not to stop by randomly again after that. They would need to call or something beforehand or else you would take the key away.

The third time was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

There was a gap in races, and you told your family that you were going on a trip with your friends. It lined up with your class break, and you just wanted one week of peace! 

You were lucky enough to not be disturbed when Ollie was home because if they knew, it would be chaos. You just hoped they would actually listen to you because you and Ollie were going to be home all week doing whatever the hell you pleased in your own home. 

You had gone for late-night bike rides, farmer’s market trips, movie nights, sleeping in, the whole nine yards. You convinced him to do a wine and paint night with you, do face masks, and cook! You convinced Kimi to teach you how to make authentic pasta and forced Ollie to join you. 

You and Ollie stood frozen in the kitchen covered in flour, after you heard what sounded like a car coming up your driveway. Neither of you moved or breathed for a second waiting for something to happen. Ollie had you caged between his body and the corner of the counter with his arms blocking you on both sides. You still had a handful of flour, ready to throw it at his head, but you both froze in fear.

“I think it was nothing,” Ollie whispered before turning his attention back to you. You were leaning against the counter as Ollie blocked you when you blew some flour at him. You took a break from making pasta when a whole battle broke out between the two of you, and the brief interruption was the only thing that got you to stop.  “Where were we?”

“I was about to throw this flour at your head, but I’ve decided against it,” You chuckled as you dropped your fist to the counter, dusting the flour off your hand. “I’m not in the mood for throwing flour anymore.”

“Well, what are you in the mood for then?” Ollie jokingly teased as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I could use a kiss and a shower, to be honest,” You replied with a smirk, leaning closer to him.

“Who am I to say no?” He chuckled as he met you in the middle and joined you in a kiss. Soon, the brief kiss turned into two, and then it turned into a full down makeout session. Your hands were on his shoulder and in his hair. His hands were wound tightly around your waist until he dropped them to your thighs and lifted you to sit on the counter.

“Mon Dieu,” You heard Arthur’s voice and immediately pushed Ollie away from you.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” You snapped, jumping down from the counter to walk over to your older brothers.

“What’s he doing here?” Charles shouted, pointing at Ollie, who was just standing back and leaning against the kitchen counters.

“What am I doing?” Ollie gasped as he walked over to back you up. “I live here! What are you doing here?”

“You’re supposed to be on vacation!” Arthur turned his attention back to you,

“That’s not answering the question!” You chastised, waving a finger at Arthur and Charles.

“We just thought we could stop by and grab something-”

“What was the purpose of my key, Charles?” You asked rhetorically, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Emergencies only,” He muttered and looked down like a child being scolded by their parent. “I didn’t mean it like-”

“No, that doesn’t sound like an emergency to me,” You lectured. “I told you after last time that I would take my key away if you abused it.”

“I think we’re missing the point here!” Arthur objected, pointing at Ollie again.

“Yeah, Ollie’s here! And he was kissing you! What was that about?” Charles said, feeding off of Arthur’s energy.

“Charles, gimme my key, now,” You replied simply, holding out your hand for the key. “I told you guys this would happen if you came unannounced again. You’ve lost a privilege.”

“Fine, but we need to talk about this,” Charles sighed, reaching into his pocket to and over your extra key.

“We can talk about it at the next race,” You replied with a tight smile, closing your hand tightly around the key. “We’re not talking about this until then. Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but get out of my house.”

“There’s the door!”

“Ollie, don’t push it.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2025. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[brookiesblurbs]

ANGEL — SAM WINCHESTER.

SUMMARY — sam starts to grow fond of an angel. they have grown more comfortable around each other, and tensions run high when dean leaves for a bar.

WARNINGS — no plot all porn... 18+, softdom!sam, unprotected sex, p in v, oral, f!receiving, unexperienced!reader, angel!reader, LOTS of praise, biting, creampie, mentions of religion, sam's a sweetheart. he's also a freak.

WC — 4.3k. i got carried away.

A/N — i feel like i'm going to hell just from the warnings alone. i erm. i don't even know. shout out the two people who asked to get tagged in this 🙏 first ever smut fic, if you hate i'll probably delete my account. i am not editing 4.3k words btw. i'm lazy.

angels weren't supposed to enjoy the feeling of a human. that much was well known.

and when you came from heaven to assist castiel in whatever the hell it was that he was doing, that was repeated to you over and over again. these 'humans', they weren't important. your only job was to make sure sam winchester didn't get hurt. that was all this was supposed to be. a casual round of protecting the winchesters.

you didn't understand human norms, and at first, sam didn't like you. you didn't take personally, of course, because, well, sam hated any angel at first. castiel quickly explained to you about the brother's and how you'd be spending more time with them while he awaited directions. honestly, you couldn't care less about either of the brothers, too. they were hunters, and you were an angel. you weren't supposed to mix anyway.

sam winchester was more interesting than his older and shorter brother, though. sam was thoughtful and a lot more curious about you than he let on at first. as you spent more time 'watching' over him, you realized he enjoyed asking you questions about heaven, and the angels, and about castiel. and you tried to answer them to the best of your ability.

sam was more open to learning about you than dean, and he was more considerate when it came to teaching you knew things. slowly, he started defending you against dean's antics, and he learned about how curious you were, too.

he spent many late nights awake with you, struggling with his insomnia. you made it much more enjoyable. on the off chance that he did get some sleep, he'd wake up to you in the bunker, lounging and reading one of his books. as soon as you saw him awake, you'd pounce on him, eager to talk all about it.

sam found you endearing in the same way you found him intriguing. you both taught each other different things. he taught you about different emotions and how to communicate them to him. he showed you his favorite movies. he told you about his time in standford and about how he was studying law. you taught him about the bible, about praying and how you'd always come if he prayed for you. you taught him about heaven and hell, and angels and everything in between.

eventually, you two become friends, as much as younger sam would have hated to admit that. he showed you what friendship was and what it was like to worry about someone more than yourself. he explained to you what love was and about heartbreak. sam watched as you turned from this unemotional, blunt angel into a person, crafted by the things you loved.

you two kissed about six months after hunting with him. you were unexerienced, and painfully so, and your first kiss was nothing but giggles and awkward stares. the second, third, and fourth ones weren't any better. sam was ridiculously dotting and patient, and even though you were an angel and didn't understand what a relationship was, you still tried for him, and he loved you for it.

after a week of sneaky kisses and rushing into each other's rooms once dean fell asleep, you seemed to have gotten the hang of it. you and sam hadn't done anything remotely sexual other than a few hands-under-the-bra's and one /bad/ attempt at a handjob. sam was enthralled in watching you become more confident and learning how to touch him the way that he liked and how to kiss him properly. so he didn't mind taking things slow.

you two agreed to not have sex yet, partially because to you, it was a sin, and partially because you didn't know what you were doing. sam had no issue waiting. that was, until tonight.

you don't even remember how this happened, honestly — the lingering touches became more frequent, more needy, and at some point, sam had slipped you out of your shirt and bra. you'd barely even made it to his room /thank god for dean being out at a bar tonight/, before he was kissing you, his lips hiding something more intense tonight.

you wouldn't have protested anyways, but as soon as your shirt was gone, sam was all over you.

"i know it feels dirty, honey. but it's not. i wouldn't lie to you." sam hums against your throat, kissing the soft skin. when he talks like that, all low and soothing, you might just believe anything he says. he pulls back to look at your concerned expression, and his smile softens.

his movement stills, and you frown, almost wishing sam would convince you to do more. that feeling in your stomach, the one that felt close to nausea, started to feel nice. and you craved more of it. you craved more of sam.

although his desire outweighed his guilt for ruining the purity of an angel like this, sam still sat up for a moment, his hazel eyes practically begging you. he was nothing, if not a gentleman. "do you want this?" sam asks, hushed and spoken like a prayer, and you think you might get sent to hell just from how he's looking at you.

sam's hair is a ruffled mess, and his long sleeve black shirt was rolled up to his elbows. his carhartt jacket had long been discarded by you, tossed somewhere into the dark abyss that was the dingy, horribly lit motel room. he looks beautiful.

"i do, sammy, but—" you breathe out shakily. before you can finish answering, his hands are on your hips, tugging you closer to him. you're both standing up, his large hands moving up your skirt to trail up your sides. sam can feel your back arch against his hands slightly, and it's taking everything in him to not lose his resolve.

san, who previously said he was okay with waiting, felt like a selfish man tonight. he could honestly care less about your innocence right now. what he did care about was you, though. sam knew that if you wanted him to continue, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"but what?" sam mumbled, his fingertips digging against your hips. his erection was pressed dangerously against your thigh. he shifted you until you were pressed against him — he knew what he was doing and the effect it was having on you. you didn't answer and could only grumble a complaint out.

"just needa taste you, honey. we don't have to go all the way if you don't want to." sam's words are a contradiction to how he was staring at you. "although, i have thought about doing more." he hums, and he has a slight shit eating grin on his face. it's sort of surprising that this is your sweet sammy.

you're conflicted— this is wrong. sinful. but there was a bubbling heat in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to make sam feel good. maybe a part of being human was indulging in your sins. you pout at him slightly, and sam has to stop himself from moving his hips up against you. he doesn't just want this, he needs this. he needs to corrupt you, to ruin your innocence until all you can think about is him.

"fine. be gentle, though, sam. i mean it." you relent, although you didn't need much convincing. honestly, if he tried to pull off of you, you'd be the one begging him to touch you and not the other way around.

"oh, fuck—" sam groans, and he almost instantly falls to his knees. his hands are tugging off your jeans faster than you can process. "you don't know how long i've wanted this." his tone makes you feel dirty, and you can't help when your brows crumple into a slight glare. you didn't know what he was doing, but you wanted him to hurry it up.

you help him kick your jeans off around your ankles and step out of them. you're left in your cotton panties, and for some reason, it turns sam on more to know you weren't planning for this. honestly, neither was he.

"leave these on." two fingers slip underneath the elastic by your thigh, tugging them and letting them go, the fabric snapping against your skin. the action makes you suck in a breath. sam's lips make their way to your upper thighs, sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. it's not enough, and he knows that. he's driving you crazy on purpose to see you squirm for him.

"sam—" you chastise, like a scold, your hand running through his hair and tugging on it gently, trying to bring your hips closer to him. sam fucking moans. he moans at getting his hair pulled, and it makes your brows crease in bewilderment. /you would definitely be keeping that in mind./

sam looks up at you with those same puppydog eyes, and you swear you're going to burst into literal flames and have your wings removed instantly. "needa taste my girl's pussy. y'gonna let me?" sam says softly, his voice muffled by your thigh, gently biting on a spot. when you whimper, he pulls back to kiss at the forming bruise, his hands massaging at the fat of your ass.

truth be told, you'd probably let him fold into a pretzel at this point, but you didn't want to stroke his massive ego.

the noise you make is answer enough, and sam deftly pulls your panties to the side. his hand brings yours to hold them. he needs *both* hands for devouring you. sam's two middle fingers move to collect your slick from your folds, and you shiver. his brows raise, and he smiles again. "you're soaked, baby. you really want me that bad?" he asks, and you're nodding quickly.

sam can't hold back when you look this pretty above him. you can feel his breath against you. even just looking at you bare in front of him is enough to make him want to cum in his fucking jeans.

he flattens his tongue against you, and your hips stutter against his mouth. you've never felt anything like this before. you can feel sam's grin against your cunt, his hands cupping into your ass and pulling your hips further into his mouth.

seeing such a large man, especially one like sam, at his knees, lapping at your pussy like a fucking starved man— it makes your head fuzzy.

without warning, his middle finger slips into you. your hands move to his hair to steady yourself, massaging at the brown strands, pushing some from off his sticky forehead. the concentration on his face is almost cute, but it soon becomes too hard to keep your eyes open.

another finger slips past your folds, and you're mouthing his name like a prayer. his fingers are rocking into you at a slow speed, but his mouth— it was fucking dirty, the way he'd suck on your clit, only pulling away to breathe. everytime he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, connected between you two. his chin was slick with your arousal, his chest panting with heavy breaths. and then he was right back to devouring you.

maybe sam winchester was the devil.

your hands tug on his hair slightly, and sam groans against you. the heat in your stomach was building and sam was near drunk on your pussy. when he looked up at you with those hazel eyes, you moaned, your thighs tremoring.

"sam— sam, it feels too good... please—" you breathed out, panting too now, and sam didn't relent, no matter how hard you were tugging at his hair. his hand was holding your hip hard not daring to let you squirm away from him. indents of his fingertips would ruin your pretty skin by the morning. you had to shy away from his intense gaze.

sam pulled away, still fucking his fingers into you. "eyes on me, baby." he mumbled, before sinking flush against your clit again. you listened, although your face was an embarrassing hue of pink. sam was just as loud and needy, if not worse than you. everytime your thighs clenched around him, or you tugged on his hair, profanities and groans slipped from his lips. he needed you.

sam kept his tongue latched onto you, his eyes showing that he was as desperate as you were to make you cum. the noises he was making were filth, soft grunts and groans, all muffled by your puffy pussy. when your eyes flickered down, you noticed that one of his hands were palming himself through his jeans.

with every shake and spasm, it was like sam knew you were close. he was using his hands to rock your hips more onto his tongue, your weight practically suffocating him. sam would gladly die a happy man in between your folds, if it meant getting to look up at your beautiful face contorting in pleasure. his chest swells at the fact that he is the one who gets to touch you like this.

that feeling returned as quickly as it left, and soon you were cumming on his face, your legs shaking as he kept his fingers curled into your folds. that was probably the best thing you'd felt since coming to earth. sam pressed a kiss to your overstimulated clit, before kissing up your stomach, your breasts, collarbone, and finally standing to his full height over you.

"how was that?" sam asks, licking the wetness off his fingers. as much as he wanted to ruin you, he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

heavy pants still wracked both of your bodies, your thighs aching and barely able to hold your own weight. he had the audacity to ask that after making you feel things you hadn't felt in your centuries alive? in between deep breaths, you shot him a slight glare.

"what do you think?" you tutted, puffing his lips out in that gorgeous pout that made sam was to kiss you stupid, holding onto his biceps so you didn't lose balance.

sam grins in response, his hands moving to your bare hips, pressing you into him. his cock was fucking painfully hard and he had to refrain from rutting against you. "i need to fuck you, honey." fuck sam and his beautiful eyes, pleading at you. his hand leads your to palm him from over his jeans, and he moans softly, so prettily.

you were conflicted. you knew his cock would feel so much better than his fingers, but this was wrong. "sammy—" you say in the same chastising voice that drives him insane.

"please, let me fuck you. need to feel you around my dick. fuck, doesn't even have to be all the way." sam pleads, and you have a hard time saying no to that. he was practically begging you. you sigh at how weak you were for this man. "please fuck me, sam."

sam eyes widen slightly, and he can't help his grin as he pushes you back against the bed. his eyes stay on you as he pulls his shirt off, discarding it across the motel floor along with all of yours. you can't help but stare at him. all tanned, scarred, and bruised, despite being young. it was so different compared to your imperfect skin, free of any blemishes or let alone scars.

sam's tantalizingly slow as he takes off his belt, followed by his jeans. he's fucking huge. that much you can tell by his bulge alone. your eyes widen slightly when he strips his boxers off.

he wanted to take his time with you, to treat you like the goddamn angel you were, to wrack every noise he can from your lips. but, sam was impatient as hell. and he was really, really hard.

"you're beautiful." sam coos, caging you in between his much larger frame. there is a shine in his gaze, so soft and loving, that it almost makes you feel queasy. he's not doing this because he's bored or because he wants to get off. sam's doing this because you're his world.

"you're alright." you respond, not able to hold back the giggle that escaped your lips afterward, especially when you felt sam's annoyed sigh against the crook of your neck. you can feel his irritated grin. sam fell in love with that devilish laugh of yours, and he found it endearing that even during this, he could make you sound like that.

it was such a sharp contrast from how emotionless and... awkward— you first were when you met the winchester brothers. sam has loved watching you adapt this sassy personality, loved eyeing you while you admire new things, hearing the way your voice heightened whenever you laughed, the way you took over parts of his and dean's own quirks and personalities.

"just alright? you wound me, angel."

this time, you rolled your eyes. you turn your head to the side to press your lips against the mole below his right eye. "you're beautiful too, sammy. you already know that." you huff out, your tone unmistakably soft. sam scoffed, nipping at her neck slightly. it was nice to hear that from you, regardless of what he thought about himself.

unfortunately for you, the compliment rushes to sam's head. he sits up slightly, his cock pressed against your lower stomach, a hand brushing over your cheek, moving your fanned hair out of your face. "are you sure you're okay with this? we can stop— i'll put on a movie, and we can forget—"

you interrupt sam's worries by pressing a kiss to his palm. "yes sam, i'm sure. please." and that small act of intimacy followed by your voice pleading for him was enough reassurance for sam. no need to tell him twice.

sam pumps himself a few times, his eyes not once leaving yours. "scoot your hips up for me, honey." you oblige, and you can feel his cock pressed against your clothed entrance. the sight leaves nothing for the imagination and sam sighs as his fingers pulls your panties down to your ankles.

sam looks like he's in fucking heaven, his lips parted and staring at you bare in front of him. his thumb habitually moves to your clit, rubbing soft circles against it just to watch you squirm under him.

"sam, quit being a damn tease." you frown and wiggle your hips into his more. his gaze is making you shy, something you didn't know was even possible as an angel.

"innocent angel, my ass." sam mumbles under his breath, but he obliges, lining up his cock to you. he collects your slick with his tip, dragging the wetness over your already overstimulated clit. sam rubs it against your folds a few times, before pressing only about halfway in. the moan that leaves your lips is heavenly, so much so that sam's head has to fall to your shoulder and bites it softly so he doesn't cum too fast like a damn high schooler.

"you're so fucking tight, shit—" sam groans and it's so dirty coming from him. he's usually so sweet to you, so hearing this is different. and arousing. but different. you'd expect this talk out of dean, not sam.

sam really wished he would've slept around a little more in college now because it was taking far too much concentration to not finish already.

"need to fuck you, baby. please." sam all but whimpers out. all of your beliefs, your nightly prayers, all of it was gone the second you felt him inside of you. you can only nod in response, your hands tugging at his waist to come closer to you.

sam stills, looking at you for a moment like he can't believe you want this. and slowly, he pushes in all the way, and you both share a pornographic moan.

sam is quiet as he lets you adjust to his size. he wasn't one to toot his own horn, but he was pretty big. and even though your vessel wasn't a virgin, mentally, you still were. sam had a mantra of things going through his head — the main ones being: please don't cum, please don't cum, please don't cum. don't say i love you. don't move too fast yet. let her adjust.

sam leans down to kiss your forehead. "good?" he hums.

you nod again. "hurts a little." and sam is nothing but patient, kissing each of your temples before brushing your hair away.

"i promise you're doing so good. it's gonna hurt for a moment. it'll feel better soon. just relax." sam murmured against your shoulder, his lips sighing down towards your collarbone. "gonna move now, sweet girl." calloused palms are pressing your thighs to your chest. he leans down enough so you can hold on to his shoulders if you need.

with one hand still on the back of your leg, and the other one cupping one of your breasts, he pulls out almost all the way before rocking in slowly. your eyes screwing shut from pleasure is enough to test the waters with a more heavy thrust. "that's it, baby. look at you—" sam groans, his fingertips digging into your skin. his eyes were glued to where his cock was entering you rhythmically, and god, he could get addicted to that sight. sam could fucking see where the tip of his cock was pressing into your belly. his palm moved over it, adding slight pressure to your lower pelvis. the feeling made him groan out your name softly. he was just as loud as you were. "so beautiful."

part of you wanted sam to shut up so you could focus on the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock, but the other half of you enjoyed the flithy words leaving his flushed lips.

"oh, fuck. sammy, 's too much—" you whimpered out, your hand squeezing his biceps. your legs wrapped around his waist to bring him closer, the balls of your heels digging against his ass. sam think he likes that you're not very vocal. it makes every beg, every moan that much more special to him. he was the only one who got to see his angel falling apart like this.

everything about sam is fucking massive, from his height, to his sheer size difference over you. it shouldn't have been shocking that his dick was huge too, but you felt it now. you felt every single inch, stretching you out, your arousal slipping down his shaft. sam's thrusts grew more feverish, his shaggy brown bangs falling into his face as his head fell forward slightly. "i know you can handle it baby." he grunted in response to your plea, hazel eyes fucked out with lust.

that feeling in your lower belly returned, and now, at least, you know what it meant. it was overwhelming, but not enough for you. your hand reached for sam's hand, guiding it to you clit. sam thought that was the hottest thing he'd ever fucking seen, and shuddered slightly. "you wanna cum around my cock? is that it, sweetheart?" sam asks, a small, contemplating smile on his lips.

you're writhing under his cock, your back arching off the bed, his thumb rubbing soft circles around your nub. you tap his bicep in warning of your approaching orgasm, but he doesn't stop. he doesn't slow down either. in fact, he ruts his hips faster. the feeling of you clenching around his dick is enough to send him over the edge, too. he's biting down hard on his cheek to stop himself from cumming before you. he wants, needs to see you cum first, before he can.

your face contorts into pleasure, and you cum hard, sam still fucking you through your orgasm. he groans and his eyes close when he watches you making a mess all over him. "thaaat's it. that's my girl." he encourages, the feeling of your walls clenching around him tipping him over the edge. "fuck. gonna fill you up." he grunts against your shoulder, his hips stuttering slightly and you moan as you feel his cock twitch inside you, before you feel cum spurt into your cunt.

sam pulls out a moment after, his eyes blown out when he watches his spend leak from your pulsating hole. he uses two fingers to spread it around over your folds. once he's satisfied with his handiwork, he slumps down into the bed next to you.

you're still a panting, sighing mess. you feel your legs twitch occasionally, and you're finally coming to your senses. you were just fucked stupid by your best friend. a human.

"jesus, sam. is this really what humans are doing?" you ask, out of genuine curiosity, and sam pinches your side with a slight laugh. he looks spent, almost as bad as you. his head falls to your shoulder, pressing his lips to the soft skin present.

"the lucky ones, yeah." sam huffs in amusement. "you're okay, right? i didn't hurt you, or pressure you or anything?" his voice is a little persistent, worried, already overthinking like he wasn't just inside of you.

"'course not. that was amazing. i think i'd go to hell if it meant having sex everyday— i see why castiel was encouraging me into trying this." you tilt your head to the side, and sam raises an eyebrow. he didn't even dare ask what odd things castiel told you about. nor did he want to know. he couldn't see castiel doing anyone without scaring them away with his bluntness first.

sam chooses to ignore that, leaning over to pepper kisses onto your cheeks, nose, and forehead. anywhere you'll let him at this point. "you did amazing. absolutely drained me. y'sure you haven't done that before?" he teases, and you roll your eyes at him. your eyes watched him with concern when sam stood.

"alright, crazy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

[bethsvrse]

“one time Sirius and James walked in and Remus was too into it to stop so you had to throw a pillow at them so they leave”

Oh, now you have to write it, for the love of god now I’m begging you to write it

original fic - remus lupin nsfw headcannons

PAIRING marauders x fem!reader

WARNINGS basically just filthy smut 😔

Remus was desperate for you. He needed to taste you, to make you his and him yours. As it was nearing the full moon, you understood that he got a lot more… sexual during that time.

The two of you have skipped class, currently in Remus’ dorm, making out on his bed, your shirt unbuttoned and his shirt off. He started to kiss down your body, his hand pulling your underwear down you leg. When he reached i between your legs, his tongue barely grazed your clit, your fingers flew to his hair tangling themselves in it. 

Remus wasn't sure what was sweeter, your taste or the sounds falling from your lips. He knew what it took to push you over that edge and enjoyed feeling your body shake. He continued to lap at your clit until you pushed his head away, gasping. He leaned back from you, slipping a finger into you to replace his tongue. You clenched hard around his fingers, cursing lightly when he added a second and curled them up to hit that spot inside of you that he knew would have you seeing stars.

Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, the sound of his name being moaned from you was everything. He could feel when you were close right, right as you were reaching the climax suddenly the door was slammed open. “Hey Remus, why weren’t you in class-“ Sirius started to say but stopped when he saw the view in front of him.

Remus’ face in between your thighs with his fingers in deep. “Oh my god.” James muttered, also being hypnotised by the scene in front of him.

When you heard voices, you glanced towards the door and your eyes widened. You tried to pull Remus away from you but the boy only attached his lips to your clit once again causing you to moan out loud.

Sirius and James stood frozen, their hearts pounding as they beheld the sight before them. For Sirius, he has been crushing on you since third year; for James, it had started in fourth. When Remus revealed he was dating you, jealousy was the only was to explain their emotions.

In this moment, they longed to be in Remus' shoes, but you throwing a pillow at them had snapped them back to reality. Hastily, they retreated from the room, the door slamming behind them.

A/N idk if it’s just me, but I feel like the teacher from 10 things I hate about you when writing smut 💀💀

[seung-mong]

everyone adores you (i hate that i do too) - kim seungmin

includes: seungmin x reader, friends to enemies to strangers to friends to lovers?? (kinda academic rivals vibe) college au, soft dom! seungie, everyone knows they r in love except them, kinda slow burn? idk, fluff, angst, quick vanilla smut scene at the end, unprotected sex, possessive seungmin, creampie oopsie woopsie, felix is lowk seungmin's downfall lmao

a/n: the people have chosen, thank u for those who voted on the poll!! i know this is so ridiculously late but ive been in a writer's funk lately and ive just been so unmotivated #rant anyway i hope you guys like this one:') chan x hybrid felix x reader up next?? :00

wc: 12k YAPPING ofc my longest fic is of my husband #seungminlover #myMan

"there's nothing i can do for you, mr. kim. you failed to submit the third reflection essay. i have been considerate with your other late submissions..." the middle aged professor sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead and massaging his temples in frustration.

seungmin's hands wrap tighter around the strap of his bag, nylon almost burning against his palm due to the friction. "mr. park," he almost whines, leaning forward in his chair.

seungmin's desperate. he needs to pass this class, a prerequisite to all of his majors. he'll be damned if he takes his classes later than everyone else. "please, there must be something i can do. anything for extra credit. i really really need to pass this class." his voice slightly breaks, so close to tears. he can feel the red hot embarrassment that washes over him at the thought of having to explain why he cant enlist in the same classes as his friends.

he's never gonna hear the end of it when he tells his parents, always hard on his ass about biting off more than he can chew and he's always shrugged them off. how is everything so different now? in highschool he was juggling acads, being president of the student council, being in choir, dance, band, and the debate team. and now? four classes and a stupid glee club and hes falling behind.

his worst fear.

the older man swallows thickly, obviously uncomfortable at his student's sudden show of vulnerability. "mr. kim, i really want to help you. but im afraid there's no extra work i can give you to help you raise your grade.

seungmin shakes his head, slumping deep in his seat.

"normally i'd offer that you could check some papers and-"

"i'll do it!" seungmin yells, almost jumping out of his seat.

"but another student has already offered to be my teaching assistant for this term for extra credit as well.... unless you could convince them to split the workload... id consider raising your grade."

"sir, anything! who do i have to convince?" seungmin lets out a sigh of relief. and he thought all hope was lost.

"miss y/l/n. do you know her?"

fuck. all hope is lost.

you huff as you push open the heavy metal doors to your apartment building, canvas bag filled to the brim with papers you're supposed to check. the weight is heavy on your shoulder, strap digging uncomfortably into your skin. the sting lingers as you waddle over to your apartment locker, dropping the bag as you dig into your coat pocket for your keys.

"oh, y/n! im glad i caught you." you turn around to see a kind face smiling at you from the foot of the stairs, long blonde hair tied somewhat neatly to keep strands away from his neck. stubborn clumps of hair fall over his forehead, sticking to the skin in a thin sheen of sweat.

"hyunjin?" you squeal, leaving all your bags right there on the floor as you run towards your childhood friend. your arms wrap around his neck as he laughs, arms coming up to wrap around your waist. you nearly knock him off his feet from the force that you throw yourself at him, but he cant blame you. it has been way too long.

"but... what are you doing here? i thought you were still in paris?" you chuckle, breathless as you pull apart from him.

"non!," he teases, but his smile quickly shifts. "due to some, ah- unfortunate circumstances, i had to return home a little earlier than i had planned," he shrugs, grabbing your arm and hooking it with his.

"oh cut the bullshit, hwang." you laugh, pulling him towards your locker. "tell me what happened," you groan, bending down to pick up your bag. hyunjin, ever the gentleman, quickly reacts from beside you, taking it away from you before slinging it over his own shoulder. "tell me what really happened, hm? it's me." you huff, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

he smiles sadly at you, shaking his head. he knows he cant lie to you. "how about we catch up over a cup of coffee, huh? my, ive been looking all over campus for you and when we finally meet after three years you dont even invite me in?" he pouts at you.

you roll your eyes at his dramatics. nice to know he hasnt changed that about himself. dare you say paris has only fed his dramatic flare? "let's go have some coffee somewhere else then, my apartment's kinda messy right now. oh! have you told felix you're back? you guys are... okay now, right?" you're careful to watch his expression at the mention of his past lover.

"no, he doesnt know im home. it kinda defeats the whole purpose of the surprise, you know?" he retorts, watching you with a fond smile as you shove your phone and keys back into your pockets. "and yes. felix and i are alright, thank you for asking."

"well, i'm sure he'd love to see you again. i know where he's working. maybe we could drop by for some drinks?"

hyunjin hums thoughtfully at that, chuckling a bit once you push open the damned metal door. "i guess it wouldnt hurt to say hello? besides. we have been... talking again."

"oh is that so?" you feign disinterest, eyes trained on the leaves that crunch under your feet.

he hums once more, squinting when he looks up, the sun beaming against his face. how he's missed its' warmth. paris was often gloomy. "we discussed possibly trying again." he says calmly, sighing with content.

you falter, "that might be good. ive always known you guys still loved each other! besides, you guys were young and stupid."

"that we were." hyunjin laughs. "well how about you and... ah- he who must not be named?"

you tense a little at that, opting to play it off with a shrug. "havent seen him around much, actually."

"well that's odd. you three were the only ones from our highschool to pass SNU and you guys dont keep in touch?"

"well i dont keep in touch with people from highschool much." you bite back.

"well how about me and felix?" he challenges.

"yea. just you two."

"arent you two in the same major?"

"we have different schedules. never aligns."

"but yuna and lia said-"

"i just dont see seungmin much, alright? that's that!" you groan, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"oh my dear y/n, nothing has changed! have you tried to patch things up with him? after all we were, hm what did you say, ah- young and stupid?"

"well he certainly was." you mumble, and hyunjin bursts out laughing. he throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer against his side. "god, i've missed you."

felix absolutely adores his job. he gets to help bake in the kitchens in the morning, and then he gets to make such fun little drinks while listening to music he chooses. he loves his coworkers, and his schedule is flexible, what with the manager knowing how most of his staff are all college students. the one thing he hates though? dealing with rude customers.

"i apologize, sir. our drinks are served in plastic cups as most of our customers dont finish their drink here, it's easier to take out in case you need to leave in a hurry." felix can feel the sweat start to form at his hairline, trickling slowly down his forehead as his cheeks twitch in a forced smile.

"well if i knew you served it in plastic cups, i never would have ordered!" the middle-aged man in front of him yells, eyebrows raised. students in the cafe have started to look over, trying hard to be discreet. some look annoyed, others clearly show how they feel sorry for felix.

felix tries his best to keep his smile, but he can feel anger and annoyance rise in him like hot water boiling deep in his gut.

"what the fuck is the difference??" he wants to scream, grab the stupid plastic cup from his stupid chubby fingers and throw it right in his stupid ugly face.

"im sorry sir, is there some kind of problem here?" a calm voice calls from behind the man, who turns around in surprise.

seungmin stands with his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his lips. he's dressed in nothing fancy, a university hoodie and some sweatpants. he's only supposed to catch up with felix as he busies himself around the cafe after all. his hair is tucked neatly in his cap, the perfect image of your average college student.

felix swears he's an angel sent from the heavens.

"this is none of your business, kid." the man snorts disgustingly, waving a chubby finger in seungmin's face.

"well, actually this is a public space and you're holding up the line. so yea, it kinda is my business. besides, you're on university grounds, i have every right to be here as a student." seungmin says coolly, taking a step towards the counter so he's able to somewhat position himself in between felix and this gross ugly man.

"listen, i'm a paying customer, so-"

"and the staff has the right to refuse service to anyone unless on the basis of race, religion, or ethnicity- isn't that right, felix?"

and its like suddenly felix has found his voice. he stands a little taller, leaning forward to get closer to the man's face. "that's right."

"and you're not refusing to serve this man because hes white or anything, right?" seungmin eggs him on, throwing the man a somewhat bored look.

"no. its because hes an asshole."

"hey-" the man steps forward, hands raised.

"well you heard him!" seungmin cuts the man off before he can continue, fully stepping in front of felix now. "if you dont leave within the next ten seconds, i'm calling security. they take peace and order on school grounds very seriously, you know?"

the man huffs, turning around and slamming the door behind him so hard that the little bell that jingles near the doorframe rattles wildly seconds after he's left.

"i dont know how you deal with assholes like that, felix. id probably lose my mind." seungmin sighs, throwing his friend a tight lipped smile.

"you kinda get used to it. but i've just been so tired this finals week that i dont even have the energy to stand up for myself anymore." felix shakes his head while he wipes the counter down.

seungmin nods understandingly, lunging for the man's untouched drink before felix can throw it. "this is paid, isn't it?"

"well, yes but-"

"alright, felix look. i have a problem." seungmin slides easily into one of the stools by the counter, taking a deep sip of the man's mystery drink.

felix nods in understanding, rearranging trays and cleaning up as much as he can.

"well actually, it's more of a favor? i dont know."

felix only hums, used to seungmin's rambling by now. seungmin's just like that, needs to talk to himself aloud a little before getting straight to the point.

"im actually screwed and there's no one else i can talk to because well, there's no more shame between us, yea? we've seen each other naked and ive seen you at your lowest low and youve been there for me and-"

"wow, this is pretty serious, huh?" felix jokes, pulling up a stool so he can sit in front of his friend.

"i think i'm gonna fail a class." seungmin spits out, holding his breath immediately after as he gauges his friend's reaction.

felix's smile slowly disappears. his mouth opens and closes like a fish as he tries to figure out what to say, in a state of total shock. this goes on for about five minutes before seungmin finally whines, head dropping to his hands.

"will you say something i can actually understand, felix?"

"i'm sorry i just- i dont understand. you're.... failing? you? kim seungmin? the kim seungmin?"

"wow you really know how to comfort a guy, huh?"

"i'm sorry!" felix jumps up to pull seungmin in for a half-hug, awkwardly wrapping his arms around seungmin's chest over the counter. "i just... how? why? what subject? are you sure?"

"yes, im sure. i missed a stupid submission. a major subject. look, thats not the worst part-"

"omigod you're dying. thats the only explanation-"

"no!" seungmin whines, pushing his friend off him. "the professor said he could give me extra credit-"

"but thats good news!"

"-if im able to convince... someone.... to split the task given to them with me."

"o...kay? just turn on your puppydog charm and you're good to go."

seungmin shakes his head, as if he's about to deliver such solemn news to felix that he has to pause for dramatic effect. felix rolls his eyes.

"it's... well the person is y/n."

felix stares at his friend with wide eyes, unblinking. then he tilts his head back and lets out the most obnoxious laugh, losing his breath as his neck turns a deep shade of red, the tint spreading across his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

"you're joking! oh this is just too- oh, i cant breathe, ITS KARMA!" he suddenly yells, fighting for his life to breathe in as much air as possible, wiping the tears from his eyes.

seungmin winces, but deep down he knows this reaction is deserved.

his relationship with you is... a little complicated.

you met seungmin in your freshman year of highschool. you'd just moved to seoul, the New Girl. as batch rep, he was tasked with showing you around on your first day, teaching you the ropes and making you feel welcomed.

"well yea, thats basically it!" seungmin finishes, pace slowing down as he directs you to the bench just opposite the school clinic. "do you have any questions for me?" he asks with a slight tilt of his head.

your eyes stay trained on the floor, as they have been the past 30 minutes that this strange boy has toured you around the school. you shake your head. seungmin doesnt fully understand it yet, but somewhere deep down, he feels bad for you. you seem like the shy type, and he knows how hard it is to adjust and make new friends. god knows how he would have survived middle school if it weren't for his friends.

"hey, what do you say you come meet my friends tomorrow during lunch break?" he suddenly asks. for the first time since his homeroom teacher introduced you, you look up at him.

he's taken aback by how pretty your eyes are.

"oh, really?" you ask timidly, voice small.

"i- i mean yea! we're in the same homeroom anyway, right? plus i think it'll help you adjust a little better if you had people you could talk to and hang out with." seungmin shrugs.

"yea. i'd really like that. thank you, seungmin." your voice is so low its almost like you're mumbling.

before you know it, you're spending your lunch breaks laughing along with felix as he embarrasses all of seungmin's friends one by one, wincing away from changbin as he threatens to lunge across the table to shut the younger boy up, hyunjin clinging dramatically onto his boyfriend's side instead of defending him.

you're spending your weekends at seungmin's house as chan makes you all listen to his new demo, han turning red in the face when his verse comes on. you're walking to school with jeongin- arms full of convenience store goodies as you make fun of your grumpy old maths teacher, leeknow following quietly behind you both, scolding you when you get too close to the road.

before you know it, you've found yourself a group of friends who makes highschool just that much bearable.

seungmin's completely enamored by you, coming to learn that you're at the top of every class that you have (except the ones you have with him, of course). you're just as ambitious as he is, joining the debate team and the mock un club, quickly joining the officers despite being a new student.

he's somewhat threatened by you, though he'd never admit it to himself, or to anyone else for that matter. you score higher than him in statistics, and he cant help the ugly feeling that settles in his chest when you show your paper to him, a bright blue 100 circled at the top.

he tries not to let it get to him, changing his mindset into seeing it as a healthy competition, a way for him to challenge himself even more in to doing better than you. it feeds his competitive side, staying longer than you in the library, sleeping later than you, reading more books.

this one sided competition makes him feel conflicted. he's out for your blood, and yet you're the same sweet, shy girl he's always been close to. you spend most of your time with seungmin, studying with him at his house, sleeping over when you've realized its way past ten in the evening, sneaking out of his house for a quick convenience store run.

"min, i'm hungry! lets go down to the store." you'd whine, voice slightly muffled against his soft sheets, tucked nice and warm under his blankets.

"go home, you've finished all the food here." he'd tease, not even bothering to look away from his homework.

"cant. you'd miss me after an hour." you'd retort, reaching blindly behind you for a plushie to throw at the back of his head.

"suppose that's true. can't help but be used to your presence when you're here nearly every day," he'd feign annoyance, exhaling loudly through his nose.

you'd pout at him when he'd finally turn in his chair to look over at you, already so at home, snuggling even deeper into his bed.

you really do have such pretty eyes.

"fine. grab your coat." and he'd try hard to fight his smile at the sound of your delighted squeals.

you found a way to break through his walls, chip away at the cement and reduce it to a fine dust which you've blown away. but he stands unguarded all the same, not even bothering to put up a fight when you wrestle your way into his heart.

he'd like to keep you there, he thinks.

sometimes he'd lie to himself and say that he tried. by your senior year, he managed to ruin the one good thing in his life.

how stupid was he?

amazing, really. how he was able to throw away three years of friendship for fifteen minutes of fame.

"how could you do this to me?" you hiss, dropping your backpack onto the floor of seungmin's bedroom. his back is faced towards you, gently shutting his door before he leans his forehead on it. he takes a deep breath, gathering enough courage to face you.

"y/n, i-"

"you embarrassed me in front of everyone. you told them everything, things i told you in confidence because i fucking trusted you. how could you do this to me, seungmin? how could you fucking do this to me?" your tears are hot, angry against your cheeks as you pace around his room. your voice grows louder with every word, reaching a scream when you stand in front of him.

"i wasn't thinking, y/n. i-"

"and for what? to make me look bad?" you laugh hollowly, hands flying to your hair in disbelief. "to make me look like some poor, fucking loser who's so mentally unstable she can't possibly become president of student council? was that your angle?"

there's a lump in seungmin's throat and no matter how hard he swallows, it just wont go down. he opens his mouth to speak, to defend himself, but his mouth has gone dry and his tongue tastes like sand.

"what the fuck is wrong with you? i thought we were friends? i thought we were best friends, seungmin? how could you air out all my shit like that? for a couple of votes? do you know how pathetic you are? is that how bad you want to be president? you're willing to throw me under the bus to make yourself look good?" you can taste the salty tears pooling in your mouth, snot slowly dripping down and creating a sticky mess on your face.

but you're too angry to care.

your chest hurts, like someone's kicked you to the ground and continuously stomped right in between your ribcage in an attempt to squash your heart. your head hurts from dehydration, and your neck is starting to feel sticky from the sweat that's pooled at the collar of your uniform.

"was this your master plan? you found out i was running against you so you sucked up to me, kept me close so you could get all the dirt? you fucking traitor, i cant believe i actually trusted you." your throat has gone raw from all the yelling, can feel the way your voice starts to come out hoarse.

"y/n, please. i'm so sorry i dont know what i was thinking. i just... when they asked me why they should vote for me my mind blanked and i-" he tries to get everything out as fast as he can, terrified you'll cut him off and start yelling again. but he can't continue because, holy shit, even he doesn't know why the fuck he did what he did.

"and you what? made me look fucking stupid so you rambled on for fifteen minutes about how much of a horrible person i am. god, if thats what you thought of me you shouldve let me know, seungmin! i couldve walked out of your life if i made you that miserable." you're starting to heave, all the air in the room suddenly disappearing.

"no, dont say that y/n. you're the best thing about me, you're my best fr-"

seungmin feels dizzy when your palm lands on his right cheek.

you cant stop sobbing, hands clutching at your chest as you shake your head. "fuck you," you whisper.

seungmin is stunned, frozen in the middle of his room with his mouth slightly open. he says nothing, does nothing as he watches you bend down weakly to grab your bag, sobbing through the motions of slinging it over your shoulders.

but then the panic starts to kick in when you push past him, your fingers reaching for his doorknob. his instincts kick in and hes wrapping his hand around your wrist.

"please don't go, please let's talk about this." his voice cracks. when did he start crying?"

you pause, and for a moment seungmin can feel the weight on his shoulder lift, all hope is not lost.

"its good to know where your priorities lie, seungmin. now i know you'll do anything to get ahead. even if that means hurting me." you tried to sound strong, but your voice comes out broken, a whimper.

"dont speak to me ever again."

you pull your hand away from him.

the weight on his shoulders is suddenly crushing.

and when he gave his acceptance speech in front of the entire student body, he frantically searched for your face. his heart dropped when his eyes locked with yours. eyes that once looked at him with so much warmth, care, and love- stared soullessly back at him.

he knew he fucked up the best thing in his life.

by the time you reach felix's cafe, hyunjin's whining had started to get on your nerves.

"i didn't ask you to carry it," you remind him, reaching for the strap.

he turns his body away from you, clutching your tote tighter against his side. "as if i'd let you carry this!"

yes, he was a gentleman. but a dramatic ass one.

"id honestly rather carry my bag than have to listen to you whine about how heavy it is."

"but it is so heavy! what the fuck did you put in here, rocks?"

you only roll your eyes, pushing open the glass door to the establishment. the tiny bell above the doorframe rings, announcing your arrival to the blonde boy behind the counter.

"oh my god, its soobin." you whisper under your breath, elbowing hyunjin in the ribs. he only looks at you puzzled, an eyebrow raised.

"he's so cute, ohmygod." you roll your eyes, quickly checking your blurry reflection on the glass door.

"not my type," hyunjin shrugs. you ignore him, walking straight to the counter.

"oh, hey soob!" you greet him, quickly shushing hyunjin when he starts to mock your airy tone. "is felix here?" you smile sweetly, trying to tame your hair from the mess caused by the strong winds outside.

"oh yea, he's over there in the booth by the window. he's not alone though," he says, wiping down the counter after spilling a few shaves of ice.

"oh, who's he with?" you ask, already making your way down the counter.

"dunno, the dude looks kinda stressed, to be honest." he shrugs, turning away from you when the bell lets him know he's got another customer to serve.

he's with a guy? he's not on a date is he? no- he wouldve told you. besides, he wouldnt have led hyunjin on either.

hyunjin follows behind you as you make your way towards the booth, heaving dramatically as he swings your tote bag off his shoulders. he crouches behind you, snickering to himself as you both slowly walk to the table, strands of felix's hair peeking out from the opposite bench.

"surprise!" hyunjin jumps from behind you, smile swiftly morphing into a face of shock, his mouth forming a small 'o'.

"holy shit, hyune! what are you doing here?"

your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. that voice-

"s-seungmin, i didnt know you were with felix."

you freeze, jaw dropped as seungmin stands. he clearly hasn't seen you yet, back facing you as he pulls hyunjin in for a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"i thought you were in paris?" felix squeals, sliding out of the booth and joining the three for a big bear hug. he's the one who finally notices you a few feet away, his smile dropping.

"y/n." he breathes, eyes wide.

when seungmin turns around, its almost as if in its slow motion.

he looks almost exactly the same, his hair a little longer, shaggier. his eyes look more tired, little bags under his eyes give away the sleepless nights he's become familiar with. his cheeks slowly turn a light pink, dusting across his nose all the way to the tip of his ears. he's dressed the way you remember him, loose comfy clothes.

he looks good, you think. you shake the thought away.

"oh, y/n." seungmin's voice is small as he locks eyes with you.

fuck, your eyes.

his first time seeing you in three years and he hates how you manage to steal his breath away. you've changed your hair, cut it a little shorter and dyed it lighter. you've pierced your ears, little sunflower earrings peaking from beneath your hair. you look so much more mature, your style has definitely changed.

but your eyes, they shine just as bright as he remembers. good to know his memory hasnt failed him yet.

"i didn't know you were coming, y/n." felix shoots you an apologetic glance, lips pursed and eyes wide.

"but i always come visit you on thursdays." you say flatly.

"yea but-"

"awh look! it's been a while since we've all seen each other, huh?" hyunjin cuts in, trying desperately to ease the tension. seungmin stays standing still, gawking stupidly at you. you try your best to pretend like you cant feel his gaze.

"yea, some of us made that decision on purpose." you mutter under your breath, but you don't miss the way seungmin's eye twitch.

felix smiles, lacing his hand with hyunjin's. "it's really been too long," he whispers, as if only meant for his lover.

"i'd really love if we could all spend some time together." hyunjin's eyes find yours, wide and pleading. "please?"

you offer him a tight lipped smile.

its already so awkward, the way felix and hyunjin slide naturally into the booth, beginning to chatter away. it leaves you and seungmin standing, stubbornly avoiding eye contact.

"do you- do you want to sit near the window, or?" seungmin's voice is small, eyes glued to the floor.

you shrug.

he nods, climbing in anyway. you take a deep breath before you move, reluctantly climbing onto the booth after him. you leave a considerable amount of space between the two of you, and seungmin can't help but roll his eyes.

it's been nearly three years, he thinks. how are you still holding a grudge against him? he clears his throat, about to start some small talk, but something stops him. maybe its the way you deliberately angle your body away from him, or the way you pull your phone out to scroll aimlessly, almost as if you were anticipating his move.

"so, how was paris?" seungmin asks hyunjin instead, shifting his body away from you. fine, be like that. at least hes not immature enough to make things awkward on purpose.

"oh, it was so romantic!" hyunjin exclaims, throwing his arm over felix's shoulder and resting it on the back of their booth. "it was a little depressing, actually. being in such a beautiful place all alone."

"well yea, but it was worth it right? who wouldve thought your one true love was right here all along." you tease, wiggling your eyebrows up and down.

"yea so is yours!" hyunjin teases you back. you only stick your tongue out.

beside you, seungmin tenses. surely, hyunjin isnt implying that he could be your true love, could he? the thought makes chest ache, an odd yearning to move closer to you, to let his fingers "accidentally" brush against yours-

"oh, soobin!" felix giggles, catching on.

seungmin's always hated that guy. from the moment he met soobin thirty minutes ago, he knew something was off. you can't date soobin, he wouldnt know how to take care of you. with his stupid blonde hair, his stupid bunny smile, his stupidly large eyes.

he bets soobin doesnt even know what your favorite type of ramen is, what your go-to snacks are, what your favorite flavor of ice cream is. important things that a lover should know.

things he knows.

oh, where'd that thought come from?

"shut up, you guys!" you hiss, checking to see if soobin is within earshot. you frown at felix, swatting across the table at his chest.

"what do you mean? you guys would look so cute together." hyunjin argues, quickly turning to catch a glimpse of soobin. you hide your face in your hands, profusely shaking your head as you sink deeper into the booth.

seungmin cant help the feeling of jealousy that bubbles deep in his gut. hes half scared hes going to projectile vomit all over the table when you straighten yourself out, sneaking a peek at the blonde boy who busies himself with creating a customer's drink.

"im probably not his type." you mumble.

"you're not." seungmin's shocked at the word that's slipped, hand quickly coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

all eyes are on him, and he can see the way you look at him, with your empty eyes staring right at his face. he hates it when you look at him like that, misses the way your eyes used to shine just for him.

"actually you know what, im getting kinda tired, i think im gonna go home instead." you blurt out, already reaching for your bag.

hyunjin's hand finds yours on the table, and he squeezes gently. "really?"

you swiftly pull your hand away. "yes. really."

"you know what, it doesnt matter. i actually made a reservation for us lixie. wasn't planning on staying long anyways. just wanted to surprise you." hyunjin sings sweetly, brushing away a stand of hair that had fallen on felix's cheek.

"yea, i think i'm gonna head home too." seungmin clears his throat.

just then, the sound of thunder roars outside, clouds a dark grey as they hang low.

fuck. just when you decided not to bring an umbrella.

"yea, i think we better get going. dont wanna get caught in the rain." felix sighs, gathering his stuff and offering hyunjin his hand.

"dont you have spare umbrellas here, lix? maybe we could borrow them. you know, just in case." as if on cue, the rain starts to come down heavily, droplets splattering against the window.

"yea, but there's only two." felix mutters, quickly slipping behind the counter to grab two black umbrellas leaning against the wall. "hyunjin and i can share, and maybe you and y/n-"

"i'm fine." you say stubbornly, arms crossed in front of your chest.

you'd rather die than spend two seconds alone with kim seungmin.

"oh dont say that, you'll get drenched and catch a cold." hyunjin sighs, grabbing one of the umbrellas from felix's hand and offering it to you.

"i'd actually prefer that, thanks." you snap, swatting his hand away.

hyunjin opens his mouth to berate you, but seungmin quickly steps in, reaching for the umbrella. "i'll handle this guys, you go enjoy your dinner."

you fume at that. 'oh he'll handle it? who the fuck does this guy think he is?'

you roll your eyes, pushing past your friends and heading for the door. you stand under the roof, crossing your arms in front of your chest as a cold chill blows past you. hyunjin and felix soon exit as well, wrapped tightly in their coats, hands entwined.

hyunjin steps towards you, pulling you in for a hug despite your protests. "be nice," he whispers, before planting a kiss on your cheek. you make a move to wipe it away, but hesitate when you see hyunjin pout.

"have a nice date." you mumble, watching as the pair huddles close under the umbrella, making their way to felix's car.

you hear the door open, and you hold your breath.

"let me walk you home." seungmin offers, his tone stern. this only ticks you off, wanting nothing more than to defy him despite his offer being in your best interest. your apartment is a good walk away, and the papers in your tote bag risk the chance of getting wet.

"i mean you- you live near my building, right?" he pleads, clicking his umbrella open. he waits patiently for you to respond, standing awkwardly by the sidewalk as you fight with your pride.

you nod, and thats all seungmin needs. he's by your side in an instant, holding the umbrella nearer to your side to ensure that not even an inch of you gets wet from the rain. his left side is already completely soaked, cringing at the feel of his cold hoodie sticking to his skin, but he ignores it. you set a fast pace, and his heart hurts at the though that it's probably because you can't stand to spend more time with him than you need to.

he notices you wince from the weight of your bag, taking a deep breath as you readjust the strap from falling off your shoulder.

"let me carry it," he's being bold, already reaching for the damn thing before you can say anything.

"i dont need any more favors." you snap, the first words you've directly said to him in nearly three years. he's glad you've at least acknowledged his existence now, but your words are sharp.

he lets it go, humming to let you know that he heard you. your pace quickens just a bit, eager to get home, out of the rain, and away from seungmin. your tote swings from the movement, getting caught on a nearby bush and very nearly pulling you back.

you lose your balance and slip, falling flat on your butt on the wet pavement. you try to brake your fall, scratching your palms in the process.

"oh my god, are you okay?" seungmin rushes down, still holding the umbrella over your head. he offers his hand to help you up, but you swat it away.

"i'm fine, alright? god, stop hovering!" you yell, pushing down on your scratched palms to help yourself up. you wince at the pain, brushing off tiny pebbles and bits of gravel from your open wound.

"y/n, you're bleeding." seungmin gawks, hand reaching out to touch yours. you quickly yank it out of his reach, almost as if you were hiding your palm from him.

"yea, thanks for the info." you mumble, trying your best to wipe away the mud that's splattered all over your jeans. seungmin moves quickly while you're preoccupied, crouching down to grab at your tote bag. he ignores your whines of protest, slinging it over his shoulder.

you let out a groan when he refuses to hand it back to you. "fine, whatever. suffer." you grumble, crossing your arms before walking away. seungmin quickly catches up to you, shielding you from the rain.

the walk home is painfully quiet. you're hyperaware of every movement he makes, every time he inhales, the way he clears his throat, as if he's about to say something before he changes his mind. all these emotions swirl angirly inside of you, most of them you cant even begin to comprehend.

because for some reason, you miss him. and it hits you like a truck when the sleeve of his hoodie grazes your elbow, the soft cloth reaching for you. it takes everything in you not to break down and grab for him, to hold him close and strangle him, to wrap your arms around him and hug him so tight he loses breath and dies of suffocation.

he smells the same, like the seungmin you remember who used to walk you home after band practice. the seungmin who held your hand in secret as you walked through the haunted house that one halloween. the seungmin who'd sing to you, alone in his room with his guitar on his lap.

your seungmin.

how could this stranger beside you be your seungmin?

how is it possible that the very same person who knows your deepest darkest secrets, your most embarrassing moments, your dreams and fears- is someone who doesn't know you at all?

seungmin stands stiff beside you as you reach the lobby of your apartment, shaking the little droplets of rain off the umbrella. he opens the door for you, urging you to enter before him.

"i'll have my bag back now, thanks." you say in monotone, eyes not even meeting his.

"let me carry it up." a bold request.

"i'm fine now, you know? im not some damsel in distress in need of saving." you mumble, standing your ground.

seungmin ignores you, already walking towards the elevator. he leaves it on hold, waiting a few seconds before you enter as well, grumbling under your breath.

once you reach your floor, you lead the way to your room, with seungmin trailing slowly behind you. he's shivering a little from the cold, the wet of his jacket only making the draft on the floor feel like ice against his skin. you notice, the little devil on your shoulder pleased at his suffering.

but there's another side of you that softens when you notice the way his teeth chatter, a shudder going down his whole body. god, you're gonna regret even opening your mouth-

"you can come in to warm up a little." you mumble, reaching into your coat pocket to fetch your keys.

seungmin merely blinks at you, unsure if he heard you correctly, or if his imagination was so strong that he managed to picture you saying the thing he so desperately wanted to hear.

but then you walk in, and you leave your door open. for him.

"oh, thanks." seungmin mutters awkwardly, reaching for the cup of tea you offer him. the warmth spreads from his fingertips to his palms, and he's genuinely grateful for the heat it provides. you only hum, grabbing your tote bag from the floor and setting it on the couch.

you pour yourself a cup, sitting directly opposite of the strange boy in your apartment. you blow away some of the steam that rises from the cup, eyes trained on the way the liquid ripples from the force of your breath.

seungmin opens his mouth to speak, but he cant seem to find the words to say what he wants to say. i'm sorry? no thats too lame. i miss you? fuck no, way too forward. how about-

"you're shivering." you point out, staring directly into seungmin's eyes.

his breath hitches. you're looking at him.

actually looking at him.

"oh, i- i didn't even notice." he lies. despite the fact that you turned your heater on, he's fucking freezing. his hoodie is heavy with rain and damp against his skin, sending shivers all the way up his arm and down his spine.

suddenly you stand, retreating into your room without a word. seungmin's confused, unsure if that's his cue that he's overstayed his welcome. but then you come back into the kitchen after a few seconds, holding a large blue hoodie in your arms.

his heart clenches when you unfurl it, revealing the old hoodie he'd given you a month before your graduation. he didnt even know you got it in the mail when he sent it. you werent even talking to him at that point. does that mean you'd gotten his letter too?

"well, i didnt wanna get rid of it, you know? would be a waste." you mumble. you toss it over to him, the cloth landing on his lap with a soft thud. he looks stupidly down at it, brain malfunctioning.

"you should change out of your sweater. you're wet. dripping all over my floor." you grumble, snatching seungmin's empty cup and setting it down on the counter behind him.

"you kept it?" seungmin whispers.

"like i said. didnt want it-"

"you kept it." seungmin turns to look at you.

his deep brown eyes are hopeful, crease in his brows giving away the myriad of emotions swirling deep in his stomach.

you stay silent, back turned towards him. you can feel the tears that pool behind your eyelids, threatening to fall as you hold yourself over the sink, turning your head completely away from seungmin. you hear the sound of fabric rustling, and your cheeks warm at the thought of him undressing in the middle of your kitchen.

the sound of wood scratching against your kitchen tiles is loud, the abruptness of seungmin standing up nearly sending the chair backwards.

"smells like you." he whispers. he cant trust his voice.

he takes a step towards you, your back still towards him.

"i think its time for you to go." you hiccup, a steady stream of tears flowing down your cheeks.

"look at me." seungmin begs, taking another step.

"you should go now, seungmin."

"look me in the eye when you tell me. then i will."

he's getting bold, standing right behind you, his chest pressing the back of your head. you whirl around, ready to yell at him, to scream at him, to slap him, to furl your hands into fists and beat against his chest.

but he's quicker, wrapping both his arms around your shoulders and pressing you close to him, tucking your head under his chin. he holds you like this for so long you figure its been hours. you stain the front of his chest with your tears, hands weakly wrapping around him, fingers curling into the fabric.

he still feels like seungmin.

your seungmin.

"you kept it. you got my letter too, didn't you sweetheart?" he whispers, as if afraid raising his voice would ruin the spell.

you sob violently against his chest, holding him tighter against you.

"i meant every single word," he squeezes you tightly, "i'm so sorry."

"you're an asshole, kim seungmin." you sob, shaking your head.

"i know, i know. i'm so sorry." he shushes you, smoothing down your hair, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"do you know how much it hurts?" you sob, pulling away from him. "i see you almost everyday. you have the face of someone who knows every single thing about me, but you're a complete stranger to me." you sob into your hands, pouring your heart out to him.

"i know," he sniffles, wiping away the snot under your nose with his free hand.

"no, you dont. stop fucking saying that." you pull your face away from him, pushing his hand down. "you were my best friend and you- now its like i dont know you and-" you're hiccuping, heaving, out of breath as you break down.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart, okay? i'm so so sorry. i was so stupid,"

"well yea!" you yell, falling into him when he opens his arms up to you.

he chuckles dryly at that, holding you tightly against him, as if terrified you'd change your mind and kick him out of your home. and he cant bear to see it, the way you look up at him with tears in your eyes, bloodshot red and full of resentment. he wants to fix it so bad, misses the way you'd hold softness in your eyes reserved especially for him.

"i'll make it right," he promises, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. "i'll prove it to you, okay? i promise."

you sniffle, shaking your head. "i- i dont know,"

"hey, look at me." seungmin pulls you away from him, bending slightly so you're eye to eye. "i promise, i'll do everything i can to gain back your trust. i just miss you so much, y/n. i- i really fucked up and to this day it remains my greatest regret."

you stay quiet, eyes flickering between either of his. "even more than when you shaved your head that one summer?" you joke weakly.

seungmin can feel his heart pounding at the sight of your small smile. he thinks he sees your eyes twinkle. "yes, sweetheart. even more than that. i just... please. give me another chance. give me a chance to make it right with you, y/n."

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. seungmin's steadily crying, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand as he looks at you, expectantly. you stay quiet for so long seungmin can hear the blood rushing all the way to his head, going dizzy with anticipation and fear.

"you'll have to buy me lots of gummies, you know?" you mumble, looking up at him.

fuck. he'd buy you all the gummies in the world if it meant you'd keep looking at him with those eyes.

the words on your screen have started to blur altogether, vision hazy as you mindlessly scroll through the hundreds of pages of readings and notes youve been reviewing for the past...... god, was there even a time you weren't studying? even the music playing through your headphones have lost its appeal, sounding more and more like radio static.

you jolt out of your trance at the sound of books slamming against the surface of your table, which shakes under the weight. you quickly pull your headphones off and look up at the intruder, who smiles sheepishly at you.

"sorry, did i wake you?" seungmin asks, pulling up a chair beside you.

"no, you saved me." you groan, stretching your whole body until your limbs start to vibrate.

seungmin only laughs, sinking deep into his chair. he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair. he scoots a little closer to you, then bends the other way to retrieve a little brown paper bag.

"i brought you breakfast." he says, rolling his eyes at the way you pout at him.

"seungmin, you didnt!" you gasp, receiving the tall cup of iced coffee with eager hands.

"i did this for myself, actually." he claims, pulling out some warm bread to share with you. "dont want you grumpy all morning. what time did you come in? you look like shit. no offense."

you shrug, taking a long sip of the cold drink.

"wait, weren't you wearing that last night when i left? y/n.. dont- oh my god, dont tell me you spent the whole night here?"

you stare blankly back at him. "our final exam is in three days."

"do you plan on staying awake until then?" seungmin bites sarcastically, and you kick his chair.

"i have to atleast get a 97 on his exam or else i wont finish his class with high honors." you whine, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.

you're so much like him, seungmin thinks. he, too, is familiar with sacrificing his happiness for a perfect grade. except now he has to work just as hard as you just to pass. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"you have to get some sleep or you wont finish his class at all." he threatens, staring down at you.

you only frown, but you dont need that much convincing, as you're already closing your laptop shut, scooting your chair just that much closer to seungmin's so your arm grazes his.

"wake me up in thirty minutes." you grumble, linking your arm with his and resting your head on his shoulder. he raises it a little to grant you comfort, unbothered by the fact that his arm will inevitably start to tense and ache.

"sweet dreams," he hums, discreetly kissing the top of your head as he pretends to look at the empty chair next to you.

ten minutes pass, and you're already snoring. your fair falls in a mess in front of your face, and seungmin has to hold back from sweeping your hair away in fear that he'd accidentally wake you up. he cant help but feel his chest swell at the feeling of you leaning on him, he feels like a highschooler high with giddiness, trying hard not to vibrate in his seat.

screw the readings, he can barely keep you out of his head. this past month has been an absolute dream to him, spending every waking moment by your side. treating you to almost every single meal, keeping you company as you run your errands, crashing at yours to study and just goof around.

this is how he remembers you- full of life, playful, just a little mischievous. so positively alluring that seungmin feels himself falling in love with you. it hit him like a brick that night you passed out with papers strewn across your bed, your limbs tangling with his. he didnt sleep a wink that night, too busy studying your face. you looked so peaceful, he remembers, burying your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly in your sleep.

he looks down at you now, cant stop the smile from spreading across his face. he'll let you sleep for a little longer, he decides. he doesnt care if you get upset with him (you will), you deserve the rest. seungmin's about to finally clear his head of you and actually get some studying done when he locks eyes with a tall blonde from across the room.

god, of all the people.

"oh, hey! seungmin, right? felix's friend?" soobin says in a low voice as he approaches the table.

"yea, soobin right?" stupid fucking name.

"yea. hey- is that y/n?" he nods towards your sleeping figure.

ew. stop looking at her. "oh, yea. she passed out."

"damn, she's really studious, huh? ran into her late last night when she was here all alone." soobin sighs, frowning at you.

seungmin wants to puke at the thought of you spending time alone with soobin. he wants to ask him so many questions like- how long did you talk to her for? what did you guys talk about? how much can i pay you to leave her alone?

"yea, shes hardworking. i admire her for that." seungmin smiles fondly.

"oh... wait- are.. are you guys, like, a thing? or something?" soobin takes a step back and seungmin's breath hitches in his throat.

"cuz if you guys are, i can totally back off, you know?"

seungmin stays silent, weighing his options. he could lie and say you guys were dating, but if you found out, you'd probably hate him and ignore him for the rest of his life and he'd rather die than let that happen. on the other hand, if he tells the truth, soobin would obviously try to pursure you. and he knows you have a little crush on him too.

seungmin bites his lower lip, then shakes his head. "nah, we're just friends." seungmin can feel some bile rise in his throat. not for long, he thinks cockily.

"oh, cool cool. uhm, if you could do me a favor, man? just... i dunno ask her to go to the cafe again this week? maybe i'll work up the courage to ask her out or something." soobin chuckles, cheeks turning a deep red.

seungmin can only nod. finally soobin offers him a small smile and leaves. there's a heavy feeling in seungmin's stomach, almost as if he'd been punched in the gut. he cant even begin to imagine you dating someone else, in fear that he'd just break down right then and there.

its kinda pathetic, really. you're not even his yet and he's already thinking of all the ways he can get soobin to leave you alone. he wants to print a large sign that says "do not approach, angry guard dog will bite" over your head, just to keep everyone else away from you.

god, since when was he this possessive?

he spends the next forty minutes thinking of ways to get you to be his. and when you finally stir awake, the first thing that seungmin says is-

"we should stop going to felix's cafe."

obviously, you dont listen.

you go to felix's cafe anyways, except you're always alone. seungmin doesn't need to know where you go every thursday afternoon while he's in class, anyways. he never told you why he wanted you to stop coming here, but you have a hunch. a tall, blonde, stupidly handsome hunch.

"y/n!" soobin greets you warmly, leaning over the counter to get a better look at your face.

"hey, soob." your cheeks warm.

you know that nothing is going on between you and seungmin, but you can't help but feel guilty doing exactly the opposite of what he asked of you. but something's shifted the past few days you've been spending with seungmin, almost as if you're seeing each other in this new light. you push this thought to the back of your head like you always do, telling soobin your order and waiting for felix at your booth.

by the time soobin brings the food to you, your phone rings.

fuck. its seungmin.

"hello?"

"hey, my classes ended a little early today. where are you?"

"oh, uhm im-"

oh my god lie faster.

"yea?" you can hear him huffing, obviously walking around campus, probably looking for you.

"at the library." you spit, looking outside the window, frozen with paranoia. lying to him feels so so wrong.

"its wednesday, y/n. library's closed."

oh my fucking god, lie better.

"i went to meet felix." you finally admit, shrinking into your seat.

you hear seungmin sigh. "is he out already?"

"no," you mumble.

"so you're alone?"

you hum.

"im on my way."

he hangs up, and you let out a sigh.

finally, felix barges out from the kitchens and quickly clocks out, throwing his apron over his head and hanging it on the hook by the door. he smiles when he sees you, nearly leaping over the counter to get to you.

"hello, my dear y/n." felix hums, kissing you quickly on the cheek and settling on the booth opposite from you.

"hello, my dear lixie." you hum, pushing a plate of waffles in front of him. "for you, your usual."

felix groans with hunger, fixing his plate with a heavy load of syrup and a huge dollop of butter. "so, how are things? any important new updates this week?"

you shrug, taking a sip of your iced coffee. "nothing new, really..... except, i guess...."

felix hums, urging you to continue.

you let out a deep breath, shaking your head. "i think... i think something's going on between seungmin and i."

you bite the inside of your cheek at felix's reaction, mouth agape as he stares blankly at you. it takes him a moment to process before he finally swallows the food in his mouth and he lets out an evil giggle. "oh, this is... oh, hyunjin owes me so much money!"

"you prick!" you gasp, swatting at felix's arm. "you guys bet on us?"

"well, i mean, come on! it was sooo obvious, i mean, it was only a matter of time, you know?" felix shrugs, cutting up another piece of his waffle.

"no, i do not know!" you squeal, piercing the piece with your fork and stuffing it into your mouth, ignoring your friend's whines of protest. "you guys thought seungmin and i would end up together?"

"well yea, everyone with eyes thought so! come on, y/n. he's looked at you like a lovesick puppy since highschool." felix rolls his eyes. "you guys were always together, and he knew you better than all of us combined. not to mention how lifeless you both were the two years you werent talking. i mean seriously, it was like hanging out with a couple of zombies."

your cheeks warm. "but- im still not even sure of how he feels about me."

"wow. love does make you oblivious as fuck, or whatever they say." felix shakes his head, chugging down his vanilla milkshake before he suddenly remembers something.

"does that mean you're gonna let him help you grade the papers for extra credit?"

you freeze. "what?"

"yea, seungmin said he needs to convince you or else he'd fail, or something. you guys talked about it already, or?"

your breath falters, and your brows furrow. "seungmin's failing a class?"

felix swallows. he cant shake off the feeling that he said something he shouldnt have. but he could never keep a secret from you.

"well- yes. his prof said he needed to convince you to help him get extra credit."

"wait, when was this?" you ask, voice stern.

oh, felix is soooo in deep shit. "uhm, like the day you guys started talking again."

your heart drops to your ass. surely, thats not the whole reason why he was so desperate to talk to you again, right? but you cant shake away the feeling, remembering back to highschool when he'd done almost the exact same thing.

but he promised. he promised it'd be different this time, right?

"seungmin told you that he needed to convince me to let him grade some papers?" you clarify.

"yea."

"and what did you say?"

"i uhm- i told him to like, turn on his charm or something along those lines."

you scoff in disbelief.

felix is going to hell. "but, that was my advice before i knew it was you! i just... i know seungmin needed some help and he'd do anything to get a good grade so i figured he was extra desperate because he was borderline failing and i was just so shocked and-"

"felix, just stop talking." you mumble, leaning back against the booth.

felix only nods, wringing his hands in nervousness. he opens his mouth to speak, but you shoot him a glare. he falls silent again, nervously gnawing on his bottom lip.

your mind's racing, going 100 miles an hour as you go through every moment youve had with seungmin this past month. obviously, this favor is not the only reason he tried hard to convince you to talk to him again, right?

but theres a small voice inside of you, the one who remembers the harsh pain seungmin caused that's screaming, telling you to cut him off, shut him out before he can hurt you all over again.

by the time seungmin pulls open the glass door, you've made up your mind.

"he-"

"this is the last time i let you break my heart, kim seungmin." you say firmly, brushing past him.

seungmin can only stand, frozen. his heart drops to his stomach, head going fuzzy as his gaze lands on felix. he opens his mouth to say something, but he cant find the words.

"what did you say?" seungmin asks.

"im sorry, i didnt know, i thought-"

seungmin's rushing out, throwing the door wide open as he runs out into the street. he can feel his heart pumping as he pushes through crowds of people, racing towards you. he can hear his blood rushing, catching sight of your yellow sundress as you're pushing open your apartment building. seungmin's never been a runner, hell, he nearly failed PE in highschool when he was forced to run laps a whole semester. but right now? he feels like the fucking flash.

he yells for you, ignoring the stitch in his side as he manages to somewhat catch up to you. by the time he throws open the heavy metal door to your apartment complex, the elevator doors are closing, your eyes locking with his.

"fuck." seungmin heaves, bending down to rest his hands on his knees. he needs to reach you before you lock him out of your room. he knows how stubborn you can be, you could probably ignore his pleas and incessant knocking for days if you had to.

seungmin gags, shaking his limbs before he bolts up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, pushing his legs to work faster. the backpack on his shoulders is heavy but he could care less. he cant risk losing you again.

sweat flows freely from his forehead by the time he reaches your floor, and by some miracle, he catches you walking down the hall.

"y/n!" he heaves, sliding his bag off his shoulders and leaving it right there in the hall. "please-"

"go away, seungmin." your voice cracks, digging for your keys in your bag.

he shakes his head, jogging up to you before you can close the door in his face. he sticks his shoe in the closing gap, groaning when it gets stuck between your door and the frame.

"what the fuck?" you yell, backing up as seungmin forces his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.

"no you- you have to hear me out." he's panting, vision going blurry. jesus christ, he was out of shape.

"you want to talk about it?" you challenge, shrugging your coat off and throwing it on the floor.

"yes." he heaves, leaning against the wall.

"okay, lets talk about it. is it true that you wanted to convince me to help you get extra credit?" your hands are crossed in front of you. seungmin's admittedly a little scared.

"yes, but-"

"but what? i wasnt supposed to find out?"

"no! that was before-"

"before what?" you take a step closer, crowding him in.

"before i realized i was in love with you!" seungmin yells, hiding his face in his hands.

you're silent, expression stoic. "you're sick." you whisper, unsure of yourself. your heart is racing, and you take a step back. "dont... dont say that."

"but its the truth!" seungmin's desperate know, tears welling in his eyes. it wasnt supposed to happen like this. he was supposed to take you out, confess his feelings for you properly, but now its all ruined and rushed and- oh, when he gets his hands on lee felix-

"the truth?" you scoff, shaking your head at him. "how am i supposed to believe you? with everything that... that's happened?"

"you're going to have to trust me." seungmin steps forward, hesitant. he can see the doubt in your eyes and it makes him sick. he'd run up 10 flights of stairs if it meant you'd never look at him like that again.

"trust me when i say that i was a fucking fool in highschool for hurting you, and i spend every day thinking about how if i could, i would go back in time to change everything." he takes another step forward, backing you against the door to your bedroom.

"that i wasted two and a half years of my life by not spending them with you, knowing that you were so near me, that i could easily walk up to you but i was too embarrassed, too scared you'd shut me out." seungmin's baring his soul out, but its too late to stop.

"that i thought about you every single day, thought about what could have been if i wasnt so stupid. that ive spent the last few months doing everything i can to prove to you that i would never ever hurt you like that ever again. but with you im just so stupid, i feel like im always doing the wrong things because youre all up in my head taking up all the space and i fucking love that i cant think about anything but you."

you can only stare up at him. you can see the way his gaze flickers away from you, too nervous to maintain eye contact. he reaches out to you, fingers hesitantly brushing against the back of your hand. testing. you pull away from his touch to wipe away the tear that's managed to slip away, clearing your throat. he tilts his head, hands settling firmly on your waist.

"i love you, y/n. please, you have to believe me."

he's waiting for you to say something, anything. he's never poured his heart out like that before, the silence eating away at him as he slowly spirals, overthinking every word he's said.

but then you relax in his hold, pressing your chest subtly against his. and he knows there's hope.

"are you really failing a class?" you whisper, and seungmin can only laugh.

"that's your concern?" he leans down, dragging the tip of his nose against your cheek. he inhales deeply, nuzzling against you.

"well, yes." you gently push him away by the shoulder, looking up at him. "i cant have my boyfriend failing any of his classes."

seungmin smiles, absolutely melting when you wrap your arms around his neck. "oh yea? does that mean you'll let me in on the extra credit?"

"you are on thin, thin ice, seungmin." you warn, reaching up to finally press your lips against his. seungmin absolutely melts, letting out a low groan at your taste. one hand on your waist, seungmin leans into you, reaching behind you to open your bedroom door. you gasp when you lose balance, recovering quickly when seungmin walks you backwards, never once pulling away from you until the back of your knees hit your bed.

you let out a squeal when you fall back, seungmin expertly finding his way in between your legs. "tell me you want me," seungmin commands in between kisses, hands roaming up and down your sides.

"i do. i want you." you breathe, pushing off seungmin's jacket.

"yea?" seungmin hums, pulling back to bunch up your dress until it sits just below your ribcage. he leans back, simply staring down at you with stars in his eyes.

"stop staring at me." you mumble shyly, turning your head to the side.

"dont want to," seungmin hums, quickly throwing his shirt off into a random corner of your room. "ill look at my girl as long as i like." he leans down, capturing your lips with his.

"your girl, hmm?" you hum, smiling as he kisses his way up your stomach, fingers gripping onto the hem of your dress. your breath hitches when his fingers brush against your under boob. he smiles against your skin, looking up at you.

"aren't- arent you going to take my dress off?" you whisper into the air, and seungmin stops his teasing kisses against your hip.

"well, i was going to but then.." he kisses over the fabric, planting a wet kiss in between your breasts before latching onto your neck for a playful bite. "then i thought about how i want to fuck you in it and then take you out to dinner after."

your cheeks grow red, lightly slapping his arm at his vulgarity. "doesnt that sound better, baby?" seungmin hums, playing with the hem of your underwear.

your breath goes shaky as seungmin continues to toy with you, pads of his fingers lightly pressing against your clit from over your underwear, providing the littlest bit of friction, but enough to drive you crazy.

"seungmin, please-"

"please, what?" he teases, hips pressing into your thigh. you can feel him through his sweats, hard and aching against you. he begins to grind against you, gentle enough to tease you and get him off at the same time.

"need you to touch me." you huff, frustrated.

"i am, baby." seungmin chuckles, pads of his fingers pressing against you firmly, trailing down until he teases your entrance, soiling the fabric of your underwear with how wet you are.

"you know what i mean," you whine.

seungmin only hums, lowering his sweats just enough to free his cock. he pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold air of the room, making you shiver.

"you're so wet, baby. bet i could slide right in, huh?" seungmin teases you with his tip, tapping it firmly against your clit and trailing down to coat himself in you.

"god, just put it in, minnie." you sigh, grabbing at his shoulders.

"minnie?" seungmin smirks, nosing against your jaw. "i like that."

he finally presses in, slowly making sure you feel every inch of him. you wince a bit at the pain, and seungmin notices with a coo. he pulls your hands away from his shoulders to hold against your bed, fingers intertwining with yours.

"i'm sorry, does it hurt?" he coos, slowly pulling out to thrust back in.

"a little, its okay. kiss me."

seungmin obeys, leaning down to kiss you sweetly as he starts at an even pace. he's slow with it, stroking so deep you can feel him in your throat. it feels intimate this way, with his hands in yours, his chest pressed firmly against you. he pants into your mouth, kissing you when you start to moan too loudly.

"tell me you love me." seungmin sighs, resting his forehead against yours.

you nod, "i love you. love you minnie."

seungmin lets out a groan at that, pulling one hand away to sneak in between your bodies, tips of his fingers finding your clit. he starts to move them in circles, your high fast approaching.

"i'm gonna cum," you whine, squeezing his hand.

"cum with me, baby. please," he begs, holding you so tight against him you feel the air knocked out of you with every thrust. you cum with a whine of his name, fingers digging into the back of his hand. his hips stutter before he presses as deep as he can into you, groaning loudly as he mouths at your neck.

you're both sweaty and sticky, but seungmin pays no mind as he collapses completely on top of you, wrapping his limbs around you. he looks up at you when his breathing starts to even, a cheeky grin on his face.

"what," you laugh, pushing him away by the shoulder when he leans in to kiss you.

he loves the sound of your happiness, basking in it as he shifts closer to pull you into his side. you happily comply, ignoring the mess in between your legs in favor of cuddling up to your lover.

"i really do love you." seungmin reassures, and you roll your eyes.

"i love you too. really." you hum, kissing his shoulder. "now clean me up, and dont even think about falling asleep."

seungmin groans, rolling off your bed to reach for a towel to wet. "but we have plenty of time before dinner. we can nap!"

"no, i will nap." seungmin frowns, walking into your bathroom and turning the faucet on.

"and what do you expect me to do?" seungmin says once he returns to the room, eyebrows raised.

"you, will check all the papers left in my bag." seungmin only laughs, leaning down to wipe in between your thighs, careful to get every drop.

"then can we get dinner?" he asks, pout on his lips.

"yes. your treat."

"well, duh."

as you close your eyes and start to drift off to sleep, seungmin only watches, hunched over on your bedroom floor, hundreds of papers scattered in front of him. he prays he'll be able to get it together and pry his eyes away from you to actually get some work done.

he seriously doubts it.

taglist: comment if you want to be added or removed!

@pochamin22 @bee123sthings @ohnocent @hyunchannie017 @r1n4 @heluvschibi @kpop-obsessed-all-the-time @elizalabs3 @uknowme-not @bee123sthings @n034sy

[scuderiahoney]

Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

[genshinluvr]

Amphoreus Amnesia

Pairings: Various HSR Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You suddenly vanish off the face of the universe with no trace for months. One day, the Astral Express receives a message from someone from another world, Amphoreus.

Note: I'm, like, still behind on HSR quests, so the newly added characters (Jiaoqiu, Moze, Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa) will be out of character since I didn't meet some of them, nor have I interacted with them as much as I have with others. I'm going to be posting new fanfics based on the options from the poll from a while ago. The next fanfic that will be posted/updated is the LADS fanfic because it came in third place. My Discord server has been officially open for a little over a week now, but the link has expired. New Discord server links will be linked at the end of the fic. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (also Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Newly added characters will be ooc due to being behind on HSR quests, slight yandere Sunday?

Word Count: 8.3k

It’s been seven months. Seven months since you went missing, and no one has heard a single thing from you. No one— from the Herta Space Station to Jarilo-VI to the Xianzhou Luofu to Penacony— has given the Astral Express crew any updates on your whereabouts. There aren’t any sightings of you despite there being a search party working tirelessly to find you. Heck, even the Aeon of Destruction can’t get a hold of you, and it’s driving everyone crazy. The Astral Express remains in Penacony, assuming you’re probably lost in the Dreamscape, like how you were when you first set foot on the Planet of Festivities. But much to everyone’s dismay, there have been no sightings whatsoever.

The Astral Express crew stands before Sunday, Aventurine, Robin, Boothill, and Gallagher, all waiting to hear the possible updates on your whereabouts.

Sunday shakes his head, sighing. “I’m sorry, but there have not been any sightings of [Y/N], Mr. Yang. We have done everything we can to search for them, but it’s like they have disappeared without a trace.”

“Please tell me this isn’t like the similar incident a while back when it was [Y/N]’s first time visiting Penacony,” Aventurine sighs, rubbing his temples. “You all need to put them on a leash if that’s the case.”

Dan Heng, Caelus, and March glare at Aventurine in response to his comment. If only that were the case, because when that happened a few months prior, you were found hours later, safe and sound. But it’s been seven months. Seven. Months. 

Gallagher glares at Aventurine and elbows him in the ribs, causing the blond man to grunt. “I’m sorry, Aventurine, but are you new here? The Astral Express crew has requested us to search for [Y/N] for seven months. [Y/N]’s been missing way longer compared to the first incident.”

Before Aventurine can retort, Dr. Ratio approaches from behind and smacks him upside the head. Aventurine’s head snaps in Dr. Ratio’s direction, rubbing the back of his head while scowling at him. Dan Heng sighs, shaking his head. 

Dr. Ratio crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you tried contacting the Aeon of Destruction about [Y/N]’s whereabouts? They seem rather…” Dr. Ratio trails off, looking around Penacony as if trying to find the right word to describe your and Nanook’s relationship, “close with one another.”

Welt sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose before explaining to Dr. Ratio that your and Nanook’s bond is special. Not special in the sense that an Aeon is attached to a human from another dimension, but special to the point where you two can communicate and meet each other through dreams. Caelus furrows his eyebrows. He could’ve sworn that the relationship between you and Nanook had been explained plenty of times before. 

“The Aeon of Destruction somehow channels his power to bring someone from another fucking dimension to our world is pretty damn impressive,” Boothill mutters, stroking his chin. “Never knew that was possible, but if you really want something or someone, anything is possible.”

Everyone makes their way back to The Reverie, now standing in the lobby of the hotel. As the Astral Express crew is getting ready to return to the Astral Express, a large group of familiar faces approaches.

“General Jing Yuan, what brings you here?” Dan Heng asks, trading looks with Caelus.

Jing Yuan smiles at Dan Heng and props his hands on his hips. The General subconsciously scans the crowd, searching for a familiar face. The very same face that suddenly disappeared off the face of the universe without a trace. Much to his dismay, the General does not see the face he yearns to see again after so long. After not receiving a response from the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng clears his throat. 

Jing Yuan blinks and rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I, and the others, are here to inform you all that we have yet to find [Y/N],” Jing Yuan replies, his smile slipping off. 

“And judging by the look on your faces, none of you has been successful with the search either?” Blade asks, crossing his arms over his chest while scanning the hotel lobby. 

Welt shakes his head. With the large crowd gathering where the Astral Express crew is standing, guests at The Reverie Hotel can’t help but stare with curiosity. A large crowd of people from outside the Planet of Festivities, with members of The Family among the crowd, is bound to draw mass attention. 

“Let’s talk on the Astral Express. With matters like this, we don’t want to draw unwanted attention.” Welt says, motioning everyone to follow.

On the Astral Express, everyone gathers in the Parlor Car, staring at the large hologram of the maps the Astral Express crew has visited. The same place you could have disappeared to, but failed to be traced in any of the locations.

“Have any of you tried reaching out to Nanook by chance? The Aeon of Destruction is linked to [Y/N],” Luocha mutters, never taking his eyes off the hologram map for a second.

Caelus rolls his eyes. “The only person who can get in touch with Nanook is [Y/N]. Aside from that, none of us,” Caelus gestures to him and the other Astral Express members, “has a way to reach out to the Aeon.”

Moze rolls his eyes and pinches his glabella, annoyed with the outcome of the situation. “Great, so we’re at another dead end.”

The Shadow Guard throws himself on the nearest chair and buries his face into the palm of his hands. While Moze knew you for a short period of time, your presence grew on him, and Moze grew quite fond of you (even though he doesn’t want to admit it). For you to suddenly disappear without a trace for seven, almost eight, months feels suspicious. You didn’t even bring your phone with you, which is strange because Moze could’ve sworn that your screen time is past twelve hours a day. 

“I will do everything in my power to find [Y/N] and bring them back safe,” Argenti says, placing his hand over his heart. 

Sampo huffs, plopping down on the couch. “Not if I find my gumdrop first! I’m sure [Y/N] would rather have me save them than someone in a full suit of armor. What are you? Their knight in shining armor?” Sampo mutters, looking off to the side while pouting.

Argenti raises his eyebrows at Sampo’s comment, the corner of his lips curving up with amusement. Clearly, anyone with eyes can see that Argenti is, in fact, your knight in shining armor. There’s no denying it because he is the only one in full armor while others wear some armor in other parts of their bodies as an accessory. 

“We can’t just sit here and do nothing. If we give up now, who knows what could happen to [Y/N] the longer we stall,” Gepard says, hands balled into tight fists. “I’m sure they’re somewhere out there. We can’t give up.”

Luka holds his hands up, raising his eyebrows at Gepard’s outburst. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who’s saying that we’re giving up? I've got all the time in the world to look for [Y/N]. In fact, the longer this drags out, the more motivated I feel to keep on pushing,” Luka says, jumping in one spot while stretching his shoulders. 

While the men converse with each other and plan out the next step, Jiaoqiu's ears perk up when hearing something strange. The muttering around him makes it nearly impossible for Jiaoqiu to pinpoint where this strange noise is coming from. The foxian healer closes his eyes and listens closely, drowning out the chatter around him. There’s a beeping sound coming from somewhere in the Parlor Car.

“Does anyone else hear that beeping noise, or am I going crazy?” Jiaoqiu speaks up, grabbing the other’s attention.

Everyone in the Parlor Car goes silent, trying to hear what Jiaoqiu is hearing. The longer everyone sits in silence, the louder the beeping becomes for Jiaoqiu. The foxian healer gets up from his seat and slowly walks to where the beeping is coming from, his ears perked up, twitching each time the beeping goes off. 

“You have an interstellar message. Please check it promptly,” says the system.

March peeks from Welt’s shoulders, confused. “Interstellar message? Who could it be from?” March mutters, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches the older man tap on the screen. 

Almost immediately, a hologram of the sender of the interstellar message materializes before everyone. The man, muscular with shoulder-length ombre blond and red hair, crosses his arms over his chest, staring—no, glaring—at everyone in the Astral Express. The man doesn’t say anything, but continues to glare at whoever his eyes land on.

The blond man clears his throat. “Is this the Astral Express?” He asks, his deep voice filling the silence of the Astral Express.

Welt nods. “Yes, this is the Astral Express. May I ask who I am speaking to?” Welt asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am the Crown Prince of Kremnos, Mydeimos, but you can all call me Mydei. Several months ago, the world of Amphoreus received a distress signal about a missing person who goes by the name of [Y/N].” Mydei says, letting his arms fall to his side.

After hearing the mention of your name, everyone in the room immediately straightens up and walks over to where the hologram of Mydei stands. From the other side of the hologram stands the glorious Crown Prince of Kremnos, who tries to keep his composure while ignoring the bickering in the background. Mydei’s yellow eyes scan every person who shows up on the hologram.

“We should demand a reward for finding this missing person!” The white-haired man loudly whispers from behind Mydei.

The greenish-gray-haired man scoffs in response. “Are you an idiot? Who would demand such a thing after discovering—”

Mydei’s head snaps in the duo’s direction, shutting them up immediately. Mydei scowls at them, as if telling them to shut the hell up and let him speak to the people on the hologram. Mydei takes a deep breath and turns back to the Astral Express crew (and others), fixing his composure.

“Helloooo? What were you going to say about [Y/N] and the distress signal?” Sampo asks, waving his hands to grab the Crown Prince’s attention.

Gepard sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “Have you ever thought of keeping your mouth shut? Let Mr. Yang speak to the Crown Prince of Kremnos.” Gepard mutters, glaring at Sampo from behind his hands.

Sampo laughs and gives Gepard and the other men on the Astral Express an apologetic smile before gesturing for Welt to take over. Welt sighs, turns back to the hologram of Mydei, and nods to the Crown Prince to continue where he left off. Mydei goes into detail about finding you in Amphoreus, heavily injured and unconscious, barely hanging onto life. 

Caelus’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. “What do you mean [Y/N] is in Amphoreus!? How did they end up over there?! We have yet to set foot in your world!” Caelus exclaims, running his hands through his hair. 

The white-haired man pops up on the hologram beside Mydei. “That’s a mystery for us, too! Imagine how confused we were when we saw an outsider, who fit the missing person’s description, in our world.”

An arm appears out of nowhere on the hologram, grabbing the white-haired man by the ears. “Dammit, Phainon. Don’t butt into conversations that has nothing to do with you,” a mysterious voice hisses, yanking Phainon out of view.

“But Anaxa!” Phainon whines, swatting at the arm while being dragged out of view.

Mydei rubs his temples, sighing and shaking his head. The Crown Prince apologizes to Welt before proceeding where he had left off before being interrupted by Phainon and Anaxa. 

“If you wish to see [Y/N], you are welcome to do so. That is why I reached out to the Astral Express, because I know you all have tirelessly searched the cosmos for them. However, there is an issue…” Mydei trails off.

Dan Heng stares at Mydei, fists clenched at his side. “What is the issue aside from [Y/N] being heavily injured?”

Phainon peeks from Mydei’s shoulders. “You’ll have to see for yourselves. It’s best to be here in person when given more information on their condition,” Phainon says before disappearing.

And with that, the communication between the Crown Prince and the Astral Express ends there. Gallagher sighs, crossing his arms. “The Aeon of Destruction is not going to like this if we ever get in touch,” Gallagher mutters, shaking his head.

Gallagher is, in fact, correct. The moment you open your eyes and find yourself in a strange place, floating before a giant being—a handsome giant being— you nearly have a panic attack. Sure, the giant white-haired being is handsome and shirtless, but seeing someone that huge is certainly a sight to behold. 

The giant person suddenly disappears and is now standing before you as a regular-sized human. What is a regular-sized? He’s over 193 cm, practically towering over you like a skyscraper. His tough demeanor crumbles as he pulls you into his arms, letting out shaky breaths.

“You’re okay, little one. I’m so glad to see that you’re okay,” the white-haired man whispers into your hair, caressing your head.

You subconsciously wrap your arms around his waist, melting into his warm embrace. You can’t find the words to describe how you feel. The stars around you glimmer, casting a gentle glow. Everything feels so familiar, and yet, you don’t remember this person standing before you. You pull away from the hug, staring up at him, wordlessly.

The man cups your face in his large hands, looking deep into your eyes. “Little one, is there something wrong? Say something,” he pleads, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You continue to stare at the man, breathless. He looks and feels so familiar, and yet you don’t remember his name or the memories you two once shared before regaining your consciousness.

“Who are you?” You whisper.

Hearing your question causes the world around you and this mysterious man to shake and crumble. You look around, terrified of what’s happening. The man in front of you quickly regains his composure, trying to remain cool, calm, and collected for you. 

The man reaches for your hand and gently squeezes it. He then pulls your hand towards his face and presses a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “My name is Nanook. I am the Aeon of Destruction,” he says, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Nanook…” you whisper, staring at him with awe.

The universe around you starts to fade along with Nanook. You look at Nanook, panicked. Nanook sighs, shaking his head. As the world around you fades, you start to hear voices around you. It’s like you’re underwater; the voices are muffled but gradually becoming louder as you regain consciousness. 

“Dear Aeons! They look horrendous!” Someone gasps in horror, startling you awake.

The room goes silent.

“Keep your voices down, dammit! Look what you did! You scared them before they could even fully regain their consciousness!” Another person, with a heavy southern accent, hisses with a smack accompanying the voice. 

You crack your eyes open, flinching and squinting when the ceiling lights blind you. You cover your eyes for a moment, trying to adjust to the brightness. Once you have adjusted to the brightness of the room you’re in, you can’t help but be startled when you’re met with multiple eyes on you, staring at you with anticipation. 

The redhead in full armor sighs, placing his hand over his chest. “Oh, thank Idrila, you’re okay,” the man says, beginning to walk towards you, only for a blond man (also in armor) to stop him by grabbing his shoulder.

“Mx. [Y/N], how are you feeling?” The man with wings for ears—wait, he does have human ears too… are the wings real?— asks, approaching your bed with a man with long blond hair.

You stare at each man in the room, not saying a word. They all trade looks, worried that the injuries you have sustained may have a greater impact than anticipated. The man with long blond hair stands over you, reassuring you that he’s going to check up on you after getting a nod of approval from the Crown Prince.

“Everything seems fine from what I’m seeing,” the blond man murmurs.

A tall man with long white hair turns to the Crown Prince, crossing his arms over his chest. “This Phainon person mentioned wanting to talk about [Y/N]’s condition in person. What is it that you want to discuss with us, Mydei?”

The Crown Prince opens his mouth to respond, only to close it before he could get a single word out. Mydei turns to you, giving you a fake smile. “We will be right back,” he says, giving the guests a look and gesturing for them to leave the room.

Confused, everyone slowly piles out of the room, muttering under their breath. The man with long blond hair soon follows the others once the majority of them have left the room. You watch the door close, now alone with your own thoughts. These men seem to know you, but you don’t know them. Or do you? You don’t have any recollection of any of these men, but this strange feeling in your chest feels unbearable. Out of all the injuries you have sustained, the one that hurts the most is your head. You subconsciously reach the back of your head, feeling the bandages wrapped around your head. The gauze feels thick and hard under your touch. You inspect your body, staring at every bandage, gauze, and cast hugging your body.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY LOST THEIR MEMORY?!” Someone bellow from the other side of the door.

You shrink back into the bed, only to hit the back of your head against the bed frame. You groan, clutching your head, closing your eyes. Gentle yet calloused hands cover your hand, making you peek from one eye while continuing to clutch your head.

“Don’t hurt yourself, now, little one,” Nanook murmurs, kneeling beside the bed.

You stare at Nanook with wide eyes, questioning how he managed to enter your room without being seen by the others outside the door. Before you can say anything, the door opens and the men file into the room, only to stop when they see Nanook beside you.

The foxian man crosses his arms over his chest, sighing. “See, I told you all that I wasn’t hallucinating.”

The blond-haired man with a fedora chuckles, propping his hands on his hips. “It’s good to see you again, Aeon of Destruction. Who knew that Mx. [Y/N] can summon you just like that?” the blond man chuckles.

Nanook glares at the group of men in front of you and proceeds to tuck your hair behind your ear, eyeing every part of you with concern. 

You clear your throat, eyes drifting over to the Crown Prince. “How long have I been out for?” You ask, your voice hoarse. 

“You’ve been unconscious for four months. You’re very fortunate that you didn’t succumb to your injuries,” Mydei says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The gray-haired man narrows his eyes at the Crown Prince. “You’re telling me that [Y/N] has been in Amphoreus for four out of the seven months they were declared missing? And you didn’t inform us about this?” 

“Moze, I understand you’re frustrated with the situation, but it’s best to calm down—”

The man with long, dark hair shakes his head. “I agree with Moze, Dr. Ratio. The search for [Y/N] could’ve been cut short if we were informed of [Y/N]’s conditions and whereabouts three months ago.”

You press your lips into a thin line, unsure what to say, nor do you want to interfere with whatever is happening. From what you have gathered, you went missing for seven months and were in Amphoreus the entire time. You’re injured, but got lucky and didn’t die. Either you were truly lucky, or it’s a cruel fate because now you have to live to recover from these injuries, not only that, but you lost your memory.

A month later, you’re sitting in the hospital garden, still in Amphoreus. Of course, you’re not alone— these men refuse to let you be alone in another world. Within a month, you’re reintroduced to the eighteen (twenty-one if you count Anaxa, Phainon, and Mydei) men you once knew before your amnesia. They’re nothing but sweet and will spoil you with every chance they get.

Sometimes, when you’re in need of a girl friend to chat with, March and Himeko (who also had to reintroduce themselves to you) would spend time with you. They would tell you everything you have forgotten about, and what has happened within the seven months you have vanished off the face of the universe. You can’t help but feel loved after hearing how much people cared about you despite not being your family. Speaking of your family… what happened to them? You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone waves their hand in front of your face, trying to grab your attention after you have zoned out.

“I brought you lunch! I heard it’s a local specialty on Amphoreus,” Caelus says, plopping down in front of you and placing the plate on your lap. 

You smile at Caelus. “Thank you for bringing me lunch, Caelus. I feel bad for having you guys run around to bring me things while I’m sitting,” you mutter, grabbing the silver cutlery. 

Caelus smiles and kisses the side of your head without thinking, causing you to freeze momentarily before quickly regaining your composure. You peek from the corner of your eyes to see Caelus’s reaction, but he continues to dig into his food and eat like nothing happened. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, [Y/N]? You haven’t been acting like yourself,” Dan Heng says, entering the garden with his lunch in his hands. “We’re all worried about you.”

You smile at Dan Heng and nod wordlessly. Caelus’s actions threw you off, but it’s not like you didn’t like it. It felt familiar for some reason, as if he had done this plenty of times before you went missing and lost your memory. What are you to these men?

You proceed to eat the lunch Caelus brought to you, lost in your thoughts. While eating and zoning out, someone reaches towards you and wipes the corner of your lips, pulling you out of your head. You lock eyes with Sampo, who grins at you as a result. Your face heats up, and you quickly look away, unsure of how to process what has happened. Sampo snickers at your reaction before plopping down beside you, sandwiching you between him and Caelus.

“What’s keeping that pretty head of yours occupied, gumdrop?” Sampo asks, nudging your side before scarfing down his lunch.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing. I’m just zoning out as per usual. You know how I am,” you joke. “I think. I don’t even know who I am or what I’m like before this freak accident.” You mutter, shoulders slumping after realization hits you.

The men trade looks, their hearts sinking into the pits of their stomachs. It’s been a month since they have reunited with you in Amphoreus since your sudden disappearance, only to find out that you sustained life-threatening injuries along with having amnesia. It’s a long road to recovery, but thanks to Amphoreus’s technology, Luocha and Jiaoqiu’s medical knowledge and skills, your healing journey was shortened. 

Although most of your injuries have healed, your memories have yet to be restored. So, every man has decided to make it their mission to get you to fall in love with them again! While you and they aren’t exclusively dating—well, with Nanook, that’s a different story— they want to get you to fall in love with them again, little by little.

It started just fine at the beginning of the new month, but then they realized that it was taking way too long, and some people (Sampo, Caelus, Argenti, etc.) aren’t nearly as patient as the others (Mr Yang, Jing Yuan, Sunday, etc.). While that is happening, Nanook’s been feeding you small information about how you end up in another dimension. Though Nanook didn’t outright say that he brought you to his dimension because he took a liking to you, he didn’t want to scare you off and potentially break the bond you two have with each other, for who knows how long you’ve been in their dimension.

As for the men who occupy the world you and the others are currently in, they have been silently watching you from a distance. However, Phainon has been more than eager to befriend and get to know you more. He’s the sweetest and most welcoming person on Amphoreus. Despite not knowing each other much, he tries to make you feel comfortable and would banter with you at every chance he gets. Mydei, on the other hand, has been trying to keep it professional, but would sometimes let his demeanor slip and spend time with you after he forces the other men to leave your temporary room. Mydei has been telling you tales of his battles and exploration, and is incredibly proud of his achievements. 

As for Anaxa… he’s a little bit aloof in your opinion, mainly because you don’t know him well enough. On days when you don’t have visitors (incredibly rare, but there are days when the men aren’t allowed to spend time with you for over two hours), Anaxa would pop by your room and teach you about Amphoreus, going on tangents about philosophy and other things your mind cannot comprehend at the moment (because he pops by at the ass crack of dawn while you’re still sleeping, peering over you and watching you sleep until you wake up because you can feel his eyes burning holes into your head).

“What the— Anaxa!? What are you doing here? The sun’s not even up yet!” You whisper loudly, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles.

Anaxa holds up a book thick enough to knock someone out with one hit. “Would you like to hear more reasons why I challenge the prophecy?” Anaxa asks, peeking from the top of the book.

You and Anaxa stare at each other in the darkness, not saying a word. Sometimes you forget that whenever Anaxa goes on one of his tangents, you tend to fall asleep, but Anaxa doesn’t mind one bit because he gets to talk to someone. Even if they’re knocked out asleep, then again, he will catch you up to speed on what you missed out on after falling asleep. It’s kind of cute. You let out a long sigh, turning on your side and hugging the extra pillow to your chest. 

“What the hell, sure.” You shrug. 

Anaxa’s eyes light up as he pulls up a seat beside your bed before starting.

Gepard kneels before you, grabbing your unoccupied hand. “How’s your head feeling?” He asks softly, massaging your knuckles while staring at you intently.

You smile at Gepard, squeezing his hand in return. “My head’s feeling okay, I guess. It’s extremely frustrating that I lost my memories and can’t do anything about it,” you reply, smiling at Gepard ruefully. 

Boothill struts up to you and Gepard, sitting on the chair's armrest. “I think if we hit you on the back of your head just as hard as you hit your head eight months ago, maybe you can get your memories back!” Boothill smiles, crossing his arms over his chest, looking smug.

You stare at Boothill, mouth agape. Gallagher, Sunday, Mr. Yang, Blade, Mydei, Anaxa, Dan Heng, Luocha, and Jiaoqiu all sigh simultaneously, shaking their heads in disapproval. You rub the back of your head, unsure how to respond to Boothill’s suggestion. 

Luocha rubs the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “Boothill, that’s not how it works. Giving [Y/N] another head injury will not recover all of their memories,” Luocha mutters, giving the Galaxy Ranger the side eye.

Before you can say something, someone places their hands on your shoulders, startling you. You look up to see Nanook standing behind you, glaring at Boothill. Ah, he probably heard Boothill’s suggestion. Nanook grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulders. The men around you grumble with protests, crossing their arms over their chest while glaring at the Aeon of Destruction.

“Wait, Nanook, I’m still eating.” You protest, peeking from Nanook’s shoulders. “Put me down, I want to finish my lunch.” You pat the Aeon’s shoulders, trying to get the man to put you down. 

Nanook wordlessly hands you a cup of Immortal’s Delight. You stop what you’re doing and stare at the sweet drink in his hands before grabbing it. You take a sip and hum happily, the sweetness flooding your taste buds.

Luka looks away, his face almost as red as Argenti’s hair. “Hey, I don’t know if you’re aware of the length of the hospital gown, but…” he trails off, the redness of his face traveling up to the tip of his ears. 

Your eyes widen and your hand shoots up to cover your exposed ass. It’s not like you’re completely naked underneath the hospital gown, but you didn’t want anyone to see your underwear! You unintentionally flashed everyone in the garden, good heavens. Nanook immediately places both hands on your butt, covering your underwear from everyone’s sight while glaring at every person. 

Gallagher huffs out a laugh, leans back in his seat, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at us like it’s our fault that we see [Y/N]’s underwear? You’re the one who lifted and tossed them over your shoulders,” Gallagher shakes his head.

Nanook rolls his eyes and turns around, walking towards the building with you draping over his shoulders, slurping down the Immortal’s Delight without a care in the world. Once you and Nanook are out of earshot, Argenti stands up and starts trailing after the two of you. 

Aventurine raises his eyebrows. “Uh, where are you going, Argenti?” Aventurine calls out to the redhead.

Argenti turns around, crossing his arms over his chest. “Following after [Y/N] and Nanook, what does it look like? I refuse to let them have some alone time while we sit to the side,” Argenti replies.

Argenti turns around before continuing to follow after you and the Aeon, making sure not to get too close or else he’ll face Nanook’s wrath for trying to cockblock. After hearing Argenti’s response, the others immediately leave their spots (with their food and drinks) and follow Argenti.

Another month goes by, and there’s finally some progress with your memories gradually recovering. As days go by, bits and pieces of your memories will hit you randomly throughout the day. Sometimes these memories from however long ago would hit you while you’re sleeping, making you assume it was just a dream, when, in fact, it was not a dream at all.

“I had a dream where I got lost in Penacony and had to be saved by Gallagher,” you passively mentioned at breakfast one day.

Mr. Yang clears his throat. “That wasn’t a dream, sweetheart. It happened nine months ago,” Mr. Yang replies, no longer eating his breakfast. 

You stare at the older man, mouth agape. Wait, huh?! The people sitting around you all nod in response to your questioning look. 

You shake your head and wave your hand in front of you, still trying to process the information that your dream was actually reality, but it happened before your disappearance. “Wait, so that wasn’t a weird nightmare?” You squeak, staring at Mr. Yang and the others in disbelief.

Himeko and March give you a sympathetic look, both patting and rubbing your shoulder with comfort. You lean back in your seat, letting the information sink in. March reaches for your Immortal’s Delight, handing it to you, hoping it’ll snap you out of your inner turmoil. You wordlessly take the sweet drink from March’s hand, taking a sip of the drink while you continue to stare at the table in front of you. The longer you stare at the table and mindlessly sip the Immortal’s Delight, you can’t help but find yourself trying really hard to recall things that happened before you magically appeared at Amphoreus. 

“What about the time I died? Is that real, too?” You mutter, looking up at the men through your lashes.

Everyone in the room was tense at your question. Out of all the things you could’ve brought up, you chose one thing no one wants to remember. Jing Yuan clears his throat, placing his cutlery down on the plate.

Jing Yuan crosses his arms over his chest. “That is something we do not bring up or talk about for very good reasons, [Y/N],” Jing Yuan states.

The mere tone and body language of the General of the Xianzhou Luofu sends chills down your spine. It’s not that you’re afraid or nervous, it’s something you’re not used to. From what you can recall, Jing Yuan has always been sweet to you and would spoil you with every chance he gets. However, this sudden shift in tone and body language when you brought up the topic of your death was something you didn’t expect. 

You hesitantly nod. “Okay, I won’t bring it up,” you mutter against the straw.

Later that day, you’re in Eternal Holy City Okhema, hanging out with the others. While the others are engrossed in their surroundings, you sit to the side, trying not to be engulfed by your inner turmoil. Blade sits beside you, occasionally glancing at you. You close your eyes, sighing.

“What’s on your mind?” Blade mutters.

You hug your legs to your chest and rest your chin on your knees. “A lot of things are occupying my thoughts, Blade. It’s been nothing but bothersome,” you whisper, pressing your lips into a thin line.

“What could be occupying your head? It’s better to let things come to you naturally, no?” Dr. Ratio mutters, now sitting beside you while ignoring the glare Blade shoots in his direction.

So much for having some alone time with you.

You puff your cheeks out in frustration and run your hands through your hair, tempted to tug at the roots. That is what you’re doing, letting all of your memories come back to you in bits and pieces without trying to force them to return to you. Dr. Ratio grabs your hand, gently pulling it away from your head, and places your hand onto his lap. Blade narrows his eyes at Dr. Ratio, as if he’s mentally plotting the man’s demise. 

“You guys already know how I am. Why can’t you guys tell me a few memories you have of me to help speed up the process?” You grumble, watching Dr. Ratio play with your hand.

“If we did tell you a memory we have of you, would that really help you regain your memory?” Sunday interjects, now standing before you with his hands propped on his hips. “I understand that it’s frustrating to walk around with little to no memory of who you and those around you are, but you cannot force yourself to regain your memories.”

You huff in response, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re regurgitating information I already know, Sunday. At least, once we return to the Astral Express, I won’t have to deal with your calculating stares. You kind of intimidate me, Sunday.”

Sunday stares at you, unsure whether he should be offended by your comment or feel relieved that you remember that you find him intimidating. Wait, does he have a calculating stare? Sunday turns to Blade and Dr. Ratio for confirmation, only to see both of them nodding already without having to ask verbally. 

You quickly interrupt before Sunday can ask, “Don’t take it personally, Sunday. I usually find pretty people intimidating, and you happen to be one of them.” You shrug, rubbing your now throbbing temples, “You and those pretty angel wings behind your ears.” 

Sunday stares at you with amusement, the corner of his lips curving up. The halovian looks away, his cheeks turning bright red at your compliment. Oh, Aeons, if only you two were alone, then he could finally snatch you up for himself and claim you as his and his only. The mere thought of sharing you with other people, such as the Aeon of Destruction—a being that has nothing but lust for blood and destruction— disgusts Sunday. Is it too late to snatch you away for himself? This time, he will take you to the edge of the cosmos so no one can find both of you. It’ll just be you and him in another universe with no one else to interfere. He will make sure that no one can find both of you this time. 

“Hello, hello. What are we talking about over here?” Jiaoqiu asks, approaching your group with Moze by his side.

Moze crosses his arms over his chest, staring you down. “You’re not up to something, are you?” The gray-haired man asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“What?! No! And even if I am, how would I pull it off with amnesia?” You grouse, glaring at the Shadow Guard.

Your glare doesn’t faze Moze as he and Jiaoqiu sit across from you, Dr. Ratio, and Blade. On the other hand, Sunday continues standing, deep in his thoughts, while staring at you. Dr. Ratio, Blade, Jiaoqiu, and Moze raise their eyebrows at Sunday before looking at each other, checking to see if the others around them notice Sunday’s strange behavior.

“Hey, you six! How’s it going over here? Are you guys enjoying Amphoreus after being here for two months?” Phainon asks, approaching your group with a cute smile. 

The five men don’t respond to Phainon at first, all staring at him with varying expressions. When Phainon’s cute smile morphs to an awkward one after not receiving an answer, Jiaoqiu politely answers for the group. Phainon turns to you, looking at you from head to toe, craning his head to look at every detail of you. It’s not new to you to have Phainon examine you, but for the others, it looks like he was shamelessly checking you out. Perhaps he’s doing both, who knows!

Mydei struts up to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s time to return.” The Crown Prince states, not leaving room for protests.

“Huh? Already? But then I’m going to be holed up in my room doing nothing until tomorrow,” you mutter, staring at the Crown Prince in disbelief.

Anaxa stands beside the Crown Prince, holding up the same thick book he was rambling about a few days ago. “If you’d like, I can go over some things you missed out on after you fell asleep,” Anaxa suggests, flashing you that charming smile of his.

You stare at Anaxa and Mydei for a moment, conflicted. You could ask someone to get your phone for you, so you can keep yourself occupied while you’re on bed rest, but since you don’t remember your password and didn’t activate face recognition, that’s out of the options. After thinking for a few minutes, you shrug, looking at Anaxa.

“What the hell, sure,” you said, allowing Anaxa to drag you.

Even though you’ve been gaining your memories little by little, Mydei has advised you not to leave Amphoreus until you recover all of your memories. It sounds impossible because those who suffer amnesia can either regain their memories after a week, or it’ll take months. Heck, in some cases, there are people who never fully recover their memories after having amnesia. That’s one of your biggest concerns, but you’ve been quite fortunate not to have to be the third option. 

Despite being almost a hundred percent recovered, you wake up in your temporary room to a room full of red roses—not just any red roses, but the same red roses that are named after a certain Knight of Beauty. You rub your eyes, trying to process what you see. How in the world did Argenti manage to sneak over dozens of red roses into your room while you’re asleep?

Argenti stands at the edge of your bed, smiling at you. “Good morning, my beautiful red rose. What do you think? Only someone as beautiful as you deserves to wake up to being surrounded by roses.” He asks, gesturing to the wall of flowers surrounding you two.

Before you can respond to Argenti’s question, Sampo’s loud sneeze interrupts you. Everyone in the room flinches. You stare at Sampo, seeing him sniffle and rub his nose. Sampo gives you a sympathetic look, rubbing the back of his head.

“Are you okay, Sampo?” You ask, scooting close to the edge of the bed.

Sampo waves off your concern. “Oh, don’t worry about me, gumdrop! I’m just having slight allergies right now. Nothing to worry about! I can pop an allergy medication, and I should be fine,” Sampo says, giving you a thumbs up before sneezing into the crook of his arm.

Sampo turns to look at Luocha with an expectant stare, only for the blond man to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh. Luocha digs into his pocket and pulls out a medicine bottle, handing it to Sampo without question. You raise your eyebrows at Sampo and Luocha. It seems like Luocha’s prepared for this specific moment.

Luocha shakes his head. “Don’t question it. I have to be prepared somehow, unless you want him to sneeze over twenty times in one day,” Luocha mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The longer you stare at the roses around you, the more you can’t help but yearn for the outdoors. You hug your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees with a soft exhale. The men around you stare at you worriedly, wondering if you’re not satisfied with the number of roses in your room. If you want more, they can certainly get you more! All you have to do is say the magic word, and they shall make your dreams come true. 

Mr. Yang props his hands on his hips. “Is there something wrong?” He asks, examining you closely.

You smile and shake your head. “Not really, Mr. Yang. But I do want to know one thing…” You trail off, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Would they even allow it if you asked them? They wouldn’t be against it, would they?

“And that is…?” Dan Heng asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

Oh, fuck it. It’s not like they’ll be keeping you imprisoned on Amphoreus.

“When can I return to the Astral Express? How come you guys are allowed to return to the Astral Express, but I have to stay here?” You ask, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

After regaining consciousness, everyone would stop by Amphoreus and keep you company, but when it’s bedtime for you, they board the Astral Express for the night. Heck, some of them would return to Penacony, the Xianzhou Luofu, Jarilo-VI, and the Herta Space Station to tend to their duties.

Then there’s you: stuck on Amphoreus in your hospital room with nothing to do but watch the skies change color. Sometimes you’re allowed to walk around the hospital, but only if you’re given permission. Luocha would assist the doctors with your treatment, making sure you’re healing properly, and he would keep you company during your checkups (which are every other day). As for Jiaoqiu, he makes sure you take your medications—yes, by making you eat spicy food. It works, if you have to be honest. But it does make you use the toilet more than you would like, but hey, if it works, it works.

Moze raises an eyebrow at your question. “What? Are you not enjoying your time on Amphoreus?” Moze mutters, looking at Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa from the corner of his eye.

You rub your temples, shaking your head. “What’s there to enjoy when I’m constantly cooped up in this room?”

“Uh, that’s not true! Remember, you were chilling in the hospital garden for lunch and we were at Eternal Holy City Okhema not long ago!” Boothill interjects, only to falter. “Now that I think about it, you seem more like a prisoner than a visitor on Amphoreus.” 

You scoot to the edge of the bed and stand up, stretching your legs. “I understand that my stay in this hospital is to monitor my healing progress, but I should be allowed to stop by the Astral Express once a week to say hi to Pom-Pom. I miss the little guy.”

Gallagher shrugs, nodding his head. “I mean, they have a point. Luocha and Jiaoqiu have been helping with the healing process; they should’ve been able to stop by the Astral Express after being mostly healed from their injuries.”

Despite being cooped up in your hospital room most of the time, Nanook did find ways to keep you entertained. Whenever you fall asleep, Nanook visits you in your dreams. He would create a world for you, a world you have never seen before (it could be Amphoreus; you have never explored Amphoreus before, so how would you know?). The skies are pink and blue; it’s warm but not uncomfortably warm. Every time you fall asleep, you and Nanook meet in that very same world, spending time together until you wake up.

You snap out of your thoughts when Dr. Ratio taps your forehead, trying to grab your attention. You grab Dr. Ratio’s finger, staring at him blankly. 

“Daydreaming while we try to explain to you about your conditions? How disrespectful,” Dr. Ratio mutters, reaching to pinch your nose. 

You smack his hand away and try to mimic him, only for him to grab your wrist and pull you into his arms. You’re tempted to protest, but getting a hug from Dr. Ratio is quite rare in your case. You don’t know the man long enough to breathe the same air.

Sunday glares at Dr. Ratio from afar. “Oi, would it kill you to be careful with them!?” Sunday hisses.

Dr. Ratio raises his eyebrows at Sunday, smirking with amusement. Dr. Ratio pats your head without taking his eyes off of Sunday. If anyone stares at Sunday long enough, maybe they’ll see steam coming from his ears.

Caelus clears his throat. “You can return to the Astral Express. You’ve been cleared by your doctor this morning before we started setting up the red roses in your room,” Caelus says, shrugging his shoulders. “If we do that, I would like to volunteer to show you my bedroom renovations!” Caelus props his hands on his hips with a proud smirk. 

You stare at Caelus, mouth agape. Were you gone for that long?! Caelus walks over to you, scrolling on his phone to find pictures of his newly renovated bedroom on the Astral Express. The gray-haired man hands you his phone, letting you swipe through the photos. Caelus has a bar, bathroom, gaming area, and living space in his room. 

You look at Caelus, handing his phone back. “Are you looking for a roommate by chance?”

Caelus snickers. “As long as the Aeon of Destruction doesn’t bunk with us, yes, I am looking for a roommate.”

“Not going to happen.” The men simultaneously say, glaring at Caelus.

March glares at Caelus. “We have our own rooms on the Astral Express for a reason, Caelus! Besides, [Y/N]’s room is cute and comfortable! Your room is doing too much on the Express,” March huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

You shrug. “I think it’s an introvert’s dream. It’s kind of like a studio apartment, but on a train.”

March suddenly gasps, marching over to where you stand and cups your face in her hands, eyes wide with wonder. “Wait, does this mean you have your memories back!?” She shrieks, shaking you back and forth.

You squeeze your eyes shut and place your hands over hers, gently squeezing them. “I mean, they’ve been coming back little by little, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Luka furrows his eyebrows at you, walking towards you and March. “Wait, does that mean you remember what happened before you vanished for months?”

You shake your head. “Not really? I don’t remember that much. I remember most things that happened before I magically appeared on Amphoreus.”

People around you groan at another (temporary) dead end on the mystery of your disappearance. After getting you checked out of the hospital, everyone returns to the Astral Express, carrying the roses back to the train. As for Sampo, he’s giving you piggyback rides to the Astral Express so he wouldn’t have to carry his allergies onto the train. While your group is ahead, Phainon, Mydei, and Anaxa fall behind.

“Are we really not going to tell them?” Phainon mutters. “They’re going to hate us for this if they ever find out themselves.”

Mydei shakes his head, clutching the roses to his chest. “There’s no point in telling them. I’m sure [Y/N] will inform them when they remember. That is, if the trauma didn’t block out the memory,” Mydei mutters. 

Anaxa shakes his head. “I’m sure they’ll be fine if they find out themselves. Besides, if I recall correctly, this isn’t the first time [Y/N] died in this dimension.”

What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right? 

Note: Again, I sincerely apologize for not updating the HSR series in so long ;v; I'm still behind on the game. I have yet completed the Xianzhou quest with the Wardance and March being on the path of Hunt. While I work on the Love&Deepspace fanfic (it won't be too long since it's about 95% completed in the drafts), I'm going to try to catch up on HSR. It's going to take some time, though. I was informed that the Amphoreus quest from the start to the current quest is about 28 hours. If you're interested in joining my Discord server, the invite to my Discord server can be found [HERE]! The Discord server invite links will be different every time I post a new fanfic, and these links have expiration dates. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr), Ko-Fi (Genshinluvr/Aaliah_exo), and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist: No taglist for this update:) will be making a new one in the future

Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows? You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[pepshee]

Can I have extra credit, Professor Lee?

Pairing - professor!heeseung x student!reader

Genre - smut, age gap, student x teacher college!au

Word count - 2.2k

Warnings - age gap of 6 years (22 & 28), daddy kink, light choking, cursing, this fic is ass </3, cream pie, fingering, ass slapping, lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: ive been seaching for more prof. hee x student fics but i couldn't find any i haven't read so i figured i'd write my own LMAOOO, i hope you enjoy, it's my third time ever writing smut and as always... leave me some feedback!

MDNI 18+

You hated physics, it was your worst subject. Every test came back with a huge, annoying, red F. You didn't know what to do. You were doing great in your other classes, so why couldn't you do good in this one too?

It was only one class, right?

At least that's what you told yourself.

It didn't help your professor was incredibly hot and tall. Every girl in class wanted him, real bad, and you did too but the difference was you were doing badly. The other girls seemed to get good grades, as well as the boys.

You didn't understand anything and especially didn't understand why you had to take this class, but honestly, as long as you had Professor Lee as your teacher, it wouldn't hurt to keep it on your schedule, right?

The other girls in the class would get praised by him in class for their good grades, although he never publicly embarrassed you for your bad grades you still felt embarrassed. You didn't know how they knew everything they were always zoning out staring at him. You couldn't blame them, but still, it made no sense.

You had started blowing off your assignments, and not doing his classwork. How could you do work you didn't even know how to do? Googling it was no help at all, and surely your professor's pretty face, and sexy physique would help you focus right? Well, it had the opposite effect. It distracted you even more.

You were lost, confused, and unmotivated to even do his work. Too scared to go to his office hours for help, and too scared to ask for help in class, your grades in his class were slipping even further if that was even possible.

It was time for midterms, and well.. You had no clue what you were doing. You got handed the study guide but barely understood anything that was written on it. To be honest you didn't care whether you failed or passed that class, you didn't think it mattered considering it wasn't even associated with your major.

Well.. that was until the dean told you it was required for you to graduate...

Why? You had no clue.

You didn't want to have to retake it, you might have if Professor Lee was guaranteed to be your teacher, but he wasn't so you wanted it out of the way now.

You tried getting a tutor and it helped for a bit—well until you ran out of money that is..

You couldn't afford a tutor, were too intimidated by your professor to ask for help, and knew the others in the class wouldn't help you. You were so fucked...

Well, you tried using chatgpt and hoped for the best. That quickly proved to be problematic because nine times out of ten it gave you the wrong answer.

Professor Lee always graded on correctness, and well you can see how getting the wrong answers 'helped' your grade...

You were running out of options, and the midterms were coming up fast. Well, there was still one option left. Seduce him?

Well it wasn't exactly ethical, but you knew he wasn't married and were quickly running out of way to fix your grade.

Seduction it is.

So that very next day when you had his class, luckily it was warm out, you wore shorts that were almost too small and a black tank top that was low cut. It's good nobody in college gave a shit about what people wore.

Your friends didn't seem to notice anything, and you're relieved because how would you explain you're trying to seduce your professor?

You arrive at his class, of course, those girls are there way early, like always. Usually, you'd call them suck-ups in your head, but now you're either gonna suck up to him, hopefully in more ways than one.

You decided to sit in one of the rows closer to the front this time. You had eaten a small bag of chips before class and kept the empty bag as a part of your plan. Professor Lee—who actually, nobody knew his first name which was strange—was standing at the front of the class at the podium. The garbage can was in the corner behind him.

You were nervous but you got up and walked over to the garbage can purposefully dropping your pencil in the process. You bent over to pick it up which exposed a bit of your ass due to the tightness and how short the shorts were. Frankly, you had no clue if he was looking or not, but you sure hoped so so you at least wouldn't be making a complete fool of yourself.

Fortunately, he was watching you. He happened to turn around to write something on the board when he saw you bent over grabbing your pencil. He bit his lip as many thoughts were running through his mind. He knew he couldn't stare for long without getting caught, or worse, getting hard.

He looked away not wanting to get a hard-on before his lecture even started. He knew who you were, the girl who was failing miserably. He couldn't deny he loved the view of your ass. He wanted so badly to touch you, but he knew he couldn't.

You were back in your seat after throwing away the empty bag of chips, and everyone else started coming into the class. Eventually, he started his three-hour-long lecture. He was trying his best not to look at you knowing he would probably get hard after the stunt you pulled.

── .✦

You did that every time you had his class. Wore clothes that weren't overly revealing, but something that would show off your figure, show cleavage, or show your panties when bending over.

Well, you don't know why you haven't made a move yet, but obviously just wearing slightly revealing clothes to his class wouldn't help your grade.

Today was the day, the day you would ask him for help, the day you would make your move.

His lecture was coming to an end, he was handing back some assignments he had graded. When it got to yours it was placed on your desk upside down. You'd gotten used to that by now, picking it up to see a 2/15. How was being this bad at physics even possible?

"I handed back some assignments I had graded, and that's all for today. Class is dismissed," He announced, fixing the black glasses on his face. Everyone got up to leave except for you.

"Y/N, you're still here, do you need something?" He was confused as to why you stayed after everyone, you were usually the first one out. His confusion was quickly forgotten when he realized how sexy you looked right now. Black crop top, tiny jean skirt, your thighs almost on full display.

"Professor Lee, I wanna speak to you about my grade," you responded. It was hard to look him in the eyes without feeling a warmth between your legs. "Of course, your grade is quite low, come into my office, and we'll talk there."

He leads you to one of the side doors which lead directly to his office. He sat down behind his desk and you sat in the seat that was positioned in front of it. "You need to improve your grade Y/N, I understand this class isn't the easiest, but this is nothing I've seen before," it was quite embarrassing hearing that from him

"I'm sorry professor.. I'm trying," well, that was kind of a lie because you were trying, but stopped.

"I understand, but I grade you on correctness. You pay attention and take notes but your grades are still bad. I don't know how that's even possible," he shook his head looking at his computer screen. You can only assume he's looking at your grades.

"Is there any way I can raise it? I'll do anything, I need to pass this class to graduate," you were getting kind of desperate which you never thought you would be.

"There is one way Y/N," his voice dropped, it was now low and filled with innuendos. It kind of shocked you but also excited you having to shift around slightly due to the uncomfortable wetness between your legs.

"Do you want extra credit?" he had noticed the way you shifted in your seat.

"Please Professor Lee," you pleaded, more breathless than anything.

"Come here, baby," he smirked as he watched you get up from your seat and walk behind his desk, getting closer to him.

He spins in his chair to face you. “Will you let me kiss you baby?” You nodded in response and he quickly cupped your cheek and pulled you into a rough kiss.

It was heated almost instantly with his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth. You couldn't help but let out a moan at the feeling. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair, gripping and pulling it making him groan at the sensation.

He pulled his lips away from yours and stood up from his chair. “Bend over for me, bend over my desk,” you quickly complied and bit your lip. “Fuck baby, look at you.. Bent over on my desk for me, so cute and good for me,” it was hard to tell what he was doing behind you since you were facing forward, but you heard the fumbling of a belt.

You suddenly felt his hands on your hips, the skirt you were wearing was so short he didn't even need to take it off you to see the baby pink, lacy panties you were wearing. He moved one of his hands to your ass grabbing it and giving it a sharp smack causing you to moan.

Then, he moved his hand to your panties feeling how wet they were. “Holy shit… This is how wet I make you? You’re a dirty slut for me. Say it, are you a slut for me? Are you a slut for Professor Lee?” he ran his fingers up and down your clothed folds.

“Yes, Professor Lee,” he smirked at your words and pulled your panties to the side and inserted two fingers into your wet cunt.

It was unexpected making you let out a moan as he went faster. You could feel the cold of his silver rings he always wore, and the curl of his fingers hitting your sweet spot just right making you let out louder, more pornographic moans.

He can feel the clench of your pussy around his fingers, but he pulls them out before you can even think of climaxing making a whine fall from your lips due to the emptiness.

You heard him fumbling with his clothes and you can only guess he was taking his pants off. There was no way to tell how big he was considering you weren't facing him.

The thoughts that filled your mind were immediately interrupted by him sliding into you, immediately bottoming out. The loud moan that spilled from your lips could have probably been heard from miles away. He began thrusting quickly and roughly his tip touching your cervix and grazing your G-spot every movement.

His office was filled with just the sound of your moans and his occasional groans. The closer to your peak you got, the louder the moans. He used his free hand that was resting on your hip to cover your mouth. “Shut up you slut, you don't want people to catch us, do you?”

Although unable to verbally respond, you shake your head. Your moans could still be heard but now the noise was predominately the sound of his hips hitting your ass and an occasional smack. His dick was so big you felt so full. “Fuck, baby you're so full. My cock is stretching your pussy so good,” he moaned.

He removed his hand from your mouth now moving it to your throat gripping it just enough to cause a little pressure, but not enough to hurt you.

“Are you clo–fuck… are you close you dirty bitch? The naughty little student you are,” he tried to contain his own moans but forming coherent sentences was getting harder and harder now that you were both reaching your climaxes.

“Y-yes daddy,” a groan left his mouth at the nickname, he loved it.

“You're clenching me so hard, you're so fucking tight. Do you like your professor fucking you like this?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Yes, Professor Lee, I–fuck I love it, daddy.”

“Shit, im g—I'm gonna cum,” he whispers into your ear. He didn't even have to ask you cause he knew you were close too.

It only took a couple more thrusts for him to still inside of you his warm release filling your cunt, his and yours mixing. He slowly pulled out and fixed your clothes before pulling his pants back up. “It's almost curfew, head back to your dorm, and it's Heeseung by the way,” that was it, you finally found his first name.

“Do I get that extra credit now, Heeseung?” he nods and buckles his belt back up, and responds “Yes you got the extra credit, I’ll make sure you pass baby. Now go,” it would be a lie to say you weren't disappointed you had to leave him.

You exited his office heading back to the dorms when you received a notification.

Your Physics Grade has been updated. Your grade is now 100%.

thank you reading!! before you send hate i'm aware this fic isn't that good😭 i appreciate that you read it anyways!

[always-just-red]

Oh I forgot to add 😭😭😭 be it fluff like jelly sylus but fluff maybe he trying to make the mc jelly too ? I’m going wild with ideas, I will be quiet

(Part 1 of ask) FINALLY finished this fic oh my goshhh I've loved it so much but writer's block was my constant companion for this one 🫠 Thanks for your patience!! Sy is jealous but I'm still pushing my 'Sylus is the softest man alive and would die before hurting MC' agenda, so I had to get a lil creative! Hope I've pulled it off idk 😭😭

Be Mine

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus is getting a little tired of sharing you with the other men in your life (and he doesn't mean Luke and Kieran 🙃)

Genre: lil bit of angst, comfort and fluff

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, jealousy, other LIs mentioned, brief allusion to Raf's self-harm tendencies, cheating mentioned, some intimacy & kisses-- more soft than spicy!

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sylus has spent centuries waiting for you, so he’s going to give you another minute.

Patience is not a virtue; it’s an old acquaintance he greets with a false smile whenever he’s forced to pass it on the street. Sometimes outside your building, whilst you’re chatting with a neighbour from the apartment above yours. Sometimes when you’re running late from a doctor’s appointment.

Patience has been cropping up a lot these days and gods, he’s sick of its face. Even now, it sits with him at this table for two as he sips at a glass that’s almost empty. There’s poetry in stalling, in savouring what’s left, especially as a waiter hovers anxiously nearby, anticipating the need for yet another refill (it would be the third).

Dregs of blood-red wine swirl with solemnity. Sylus is a patient man, a man who waits, but he doesn’t want to be. He wants the reward of it: the pot of gold at the end of that insipid rainbow. Hasn’t he waited enough?

He lifts his drink to his lips again.

“Sylus!”

They curve as he swallows the final drop.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, flinging yourself into the seat across from him so quickly that he’s cheated of the chance to rise and help you with your chair. “Sit back down,” you usher, because he had made a start on it, “really, Sy, I’m so, so sorry. Things at work just got crazy, and I—”

“You don’t have to explain, sweetie,” he smiles as he signals the waiter. He’ll have that refill, now, and he orders your favourite drink as you shrug off your coat and fumble with your bag, looking for something. “I’m more than familiar with the Association’s… dedication to a cause.”

You glance up with an amused smile. “We’re keeping you on your toes, huh?”

“Mmm. There is one hunter who’s proving to be a real thorn in my side.”

“You on top of that?”

“Most evenings, yes. Some mornings, too.”

You poke your tongue out at him. You’ve retrieved a compact mirror and you use it to study your dishevelled reflection. “Is everything all right at work?” he asks as you fuss over your hair.

“Yeah,” you puff. “Long story.”

“We have time.”

With a warmer smile, you stash your mirror away and sequester your bag by your feet. “You sure?” He gives you a look. “Fine,” you chuckle. “Basically, Xavier forgot to write up some reports. He’s been away on an ultra-secret, special mission or whatever—” you tap your nose conspiratorially— “which I didn’t just tell you, okay? But yeah, the reports weren’t done, and they were due tonight, so…”

Sylus raises an apathetic eyebrow. “He asked you to help?”

“Begged me, more like.”

Of course he did. The waiter arrives with your drinks and Sylus has never been gladder for a distraction. His mouth is full of pettiness, bitterness, so he drowns it with wine. You could have called. Texted. “So kitten’s been playing secretary, hmm?” he goads instead.

“That would imply kitten could keep track of time,” you pout, “so no. And speaking of playing a part—” you poke his nose— “you’re allowed to be mad at me. I should have called you. Texted. So let me have it, yeah? I feel bad enough already without you being all… perfect.”

You’re only teasing, but Sylus doesn’t feel perfect. He’s thinking about you working late with your partner, laughing at his jokes, poking him with your pen to keep him from falling asleep on his paperwork. He smirks, regardless. “What if I want you to feel bad?”

“Oh, gods,” you slump forwards, face-down on the table. “How long were you waiting?”

“Years.”

You fake cry into the tablecloth. “Don’t, Sy. Just tell me the truth. How bad was it?”

“Really, years,” he insists again, folding his arms on the table and sliding forwards, too. His chin is resting on his hands, and he blows at the top of your head. “Look.” Your face lifts so you can peer at him. He pinches his hair. “I’ve even gone grey, see?”

You sit up the tiniest bit more and your noses are almost brushing. “It looks nice,” you whisper.

“You think so?”

“Mmm. Suits you.”

Your eyes are every gem— every jewel in an illicit auction Sylus has to steal away from the rest of the world, because something that pretty just has to be his; it will find no worthier home than his hands. His devotion fills vaults. Aren’t they spilling with emeralds, rubies, sapphires, diamonds— those reckless imitations of your gaze? No-one else could deserve them, adore them like he does.

And they’ve nothing on the real thing.

Someone clears their throat and Sylus tracks the noise begrudgingly. The anxious waiter is back, clutching menus this time. You sit up fully, laughing to break the tension, and sure enough, Sylus feels less like hurling the man through the nearest window.

He’s still thinking about it though. He tells the waiter as much with a smile, and the menus are passed over with shaking hands. When Sylus says, “thank you,” it sounds like a bomb, ticking.

“Play nice,” you tut, once the waiter’s cleared the blast radius.

“Sweetie, when do I ever not play nice?”

You blink back at him disbelievingly. This should be good. “How about the time that you—?”

A familiar ringtone interrupts you, and your eyes widen in apology as you grab at your bag, rifling around for your phone. You find it— check the call and decline it— but relief is hiding, refusing to set foot on stage. Not yet, it confers to Sylus darkly, because it knows what comes next.

“Do you need to…?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, it was just Rafayel. Thanks, though.” You set the phone down. “Where was I?”

“You were about to tell me what a terribly bad man I am, sweetie.”

“Right!” you giggle. No, not yet. “So how about the time that you…” The phone rings again. You check it. Decline it. “How about the time that you—ugh!” It’s ringing again.

Sylus taps a finger on the table, impatiently patient. You can’t mute the wretched thing: the next call you miss would be a Wanderer, tearing through an orphanage or the like. It’s the reason you check, even when there’re no orphans at stake— just a pest of an artist with too much time on his hands.

Except… “Oh,” you say, glancing downwards, “it’s Zayne. I should probably—” Sylus gives a half-smile of blessing, but you weren’t waiting around for it— “hey, Zayne! I can’t talk right now, unless— Raf? What the hell? How did you get Zayne’s phone?”

You pull yours away from your ear as a string of whines come through:

“— ignore my calls, don’t even text me to ask what’s up, and then pick up his call right away? You hate me, right? Just say that you hate me, cutie.”

“I don’t hate you, Raf.” The phone is back to your ear. “I’m busy. Now seriously, how did you get— oh, hi, Zayne. Why is Raf…?” Sylus can hear a deeper voice answering your questions. “He’s at the—? Shit, is he okay? Ugh, tell him I can hear him. Tell him I know he’s not dying.”

You meet Sylus’s eyes as conflict erupts on the other end of the call. Sorry, you mouth as static filters through, interspersed with broken words and curses. The doctor’s voice prevails. “Yeah, Zayne,” you speak back to it. “I’ll call Thomas, get him to pick him up. Mmhmm? Oh!” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I forgot, he’s at that stupid art thing. Look, maybe later, I can…”

The artist’s shrill tone is protesting.

“I know it’s my job, Raf!” you counter. “But gimme a break, please. If it was any other night, you know I’d be there. Of course I wanna be there! But I can’t—”

It’s just a slip of the tongue— words you don’t even realise you’re saying— but Sylus still feels his heart sink. He hates it. A heart is so difficult to argue with: it’s long gone before you can talk any sense into it. He stands from the table, those priceless eyes of yours pursuing him. When you tilt your head, he musters a smile, then a weak excuse: “I’m just stepping outside for a moment.”

You nod, a follow-up question on the tip of your tongue, but then there’s a voice in your ear again— two voices— and you’re you, so of course you listen.

…

Sylus waits on a bench outside the restaurant, closing his eyes as he waits for his heart to come back.

It’s only been a few minutes. He’s thinking about your eyes, your nose and lips— an inch from his— and how he should have closed that gap before it grew treacherous. Shouldn’t he be done with this? This… longing? You’re his. You’ve told him you’re his, over and over again, but he finds himself needing to hear it once more; the ghost of your voice is starting to lack persuasion.

He is yours without exception, but you? There’s always a caveat. I’m yours, Sylus. But only so long as the city is quiet. I’m yours, Sylus. Until someone else calls. The door to the restaurant opens— he can hear it— but he doesn’t open his eyes. He wants to pretend.

I’m yours, Sylus. No caveats. No exceptions.

“Sylus.”

He swallows the dread in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” you entreat softly. His eyes open, and you’re wearing your coat, holding your bag. “I have to run to the hospital— it’s this whole thing. Raf, like, passed out or something. He’s not been eating again. Zayne said when something like this keeps happening, it’s a sign that… yeah. He just… needs someone. And he hasn’t got anyone else, you know?”

“I understand.” You’re worried about your friend. That’s all it is.

Why can’t he believe that’s all it is?  

You come over and sink down on the bench beside him, looping your arm through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t you know that he’s afraid? That a selfish, spiteful part of him wants to hide you— with the rest of his treasures— away from the light, so he can love you in the dark?

There’s a sigh as you lean against him, savouring his touch like the wine one swirls in a glass when their thoughts are elsewhere. It’s gone in a mouthful; you check your watch, and he hopes it’s bitter.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

No, he would rather be sweet for you, but look at you— making him lie. “I’m okay,” he says, and it doesn’t have a drop of conviction. He’s tired of philanthropy.

…

“What are you gonna do? Come on, tell us. Tell us! What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Luke. Give me a second, okay? Jeez.”

You literally just got here. Your pace is brisk and the night air still clings to you— you shed a layer of it by peeling your arms out of your coat. Luke and Kieran are close behind, keeping to your heels like terriers hoping you’ll trip with a plateful of food. They’ll take even a crumb at this point.

“You gonna fight him?” Kieran nudges, but your lips stay tight.

“Oh, you’re so gonna fight him,” Luke takes away from the silence.

You don’t know what you’re going to do. You’ve reached a decadent lounge, lavished with black and gold, and you throw your coat over the arm of a chair before starting to wrestle off your combat boots. You’ve been off work for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. One call-to-duty after another; first the hospital, now this.

Mephisto caws in greeting from a nearby perch. “I’m not gonna fight him,” you say as your second boot drops with a clunk. “I just need to—”

“Say no more,” Luke cuts you off. “We want in.”

With a tired sigh, you gaze up at the twins at last. Kieran is readying a fist: punching his hand softly, the beak of his mask low and threatening. Beside him, Luke swings a baseball bat over his shoulder. He didn’t have it a second ago. Where did he even—?

You put your hands on your hips. “You guys got a death wish or something?”

“Yes!” they enthuse together, nodding excitedly.

You haven’t got time to ask. Your focus drifts to Sylus’s bedroom door, where music is leaking with honeylike light. You can’t count the number of times you’ve fallen over that threshold, exhausted— always slightly broken. You want to crawl into cool silk sheets and a warmer embrace, but there’s one small problem.

The text that had brought you here, anxious and out of breath:

Boss is with someone.

“What’re you thinking?”

You’re closer to the door, now, and Luke’s whisper makes you jump. You spin, twisting the bat from his fingers and pushing him back until the tip is pressed to his throat. “Get back,” you hiss, before levelling the weapon at an encroaching Kieran, “both of you.”

Luke leaps behind his brother— swinging him between you for protection. The baseball bat stays hovering, and Luke peeks over Kieran’s shoulder, swatting at it like an indignant kitten.

“Stop it,” you scold, poking back at his hand and his masked face. “Begone!”

“Yes, boss!” Kieran goes to move, but Luke is holding him in place. He’s dragged backwards: a human shield until they can both scurry around the turn of a corridor.

You smile fondly. You forget, for just a moment, that you’re alone and full of uncertainty. The song in the next room lulls, at its inevitable end, and then you can’t forget. You’re stood in silence, staring at a door you’ve never had to knock before. Another song starts up.

Whatever this is, you can handle it.

You use the baseball bat to tap against the dark wood. “Sylus?” you call.

He makes you wait. You can hear him, moving around— unmistakably taking his time— but you don’t mind. You’re running scenarios through your head. Is he in on this, too? Or…?

He opens the door and oh, he definitely is. His silk robe hangs haphazardly over his figure, one side threatening to slip from his shoulder and the belt dangerously loose at the middle. A flush is tinting his face, spreading down through his neck, past his collarbone and lower, you think, but you’re trying not to look.

“Sweetie,” he purrs in the way that tells you he’s up to no good, “what a pleasant surprise.” His eyes flit downwards. “And you’re armed, too.”

There’s a breathlessness to the observation, and your ability to breathe briefly eludes you as well. His hair is damp and unkempt, his skin warm, his gaze hot. Is this a test? It feels like a test.

“Are you alone?” you snap, because he’s clearly put some thought into whatever it is, and you’re a good sport, so you’ll play along.

“No,” he says, but then: “You know you’re always with me in spirit, kitten. Even if not in—” another downwards glance— “body.”

“Sylus.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time.” You catch his chin with your free hand, forcing his gaze back to your face. “And I want a real answer.” He swallows thickly. “Are you alone?”

His submission is fragile. He lifts his hand, wraps his fingers around your wrist like a reminder of the fact. “Careful, sweetie.” His grip tightens as his voice drops. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“I know what I’m asking.” You snatch your hand free and step closer. “Get out of my way.”

Sylus narrows his eyes, but soon relaxes. He sweeps a hand through his hair, chuckling as he obeys— moving aside to let you past. You storm through, looking over every visible inch of his room. There’s nothing to see, of course. No clothes that aren’t yours pooled over the floor. No lover wrapped up in his bedsheets.

“Just what exactly are you looking for?” he asks smugly behind you.

“Save it, Sylus.” Your pretend patience is gone. “The twins told me everything.”

So you start searching more strenuously. You make your way over to his bed, baseball bat slung over your shoulder as you check behind the far side— even stooping to peek under it. You open the wardrobe. Nothing. Use the baseball bat to push back the curtains, letting in more blood-red moonlight. Nothing. You huff in frustration.

“You know, don’t you?” Sylus says quietly.

He’s leant against the doorway, arms crossed, and you spare him a glance. “Know what?”  

“That there’s no-one here.”

It sounds like defeat. “I’m taking this very seriously, actually,” you dismiss as you roll open the drawer of his bedside table, where no-one is hiding. You move on to even more absurd places: lifting flowers out of their vase to glance about inside it, peering into the horn of his vintage gramophone.

You’d hoped your antics would elicit at least a short laugh, or a scoff of amusement. There’s nothing, though, so you plonk onto the bed— defeated, yourself— and look to the man as you set your weapon down.

He looks back with an insincere smile. “How did you know?”

“That you weren’t really with someone? Because you’re you, Sylus. The key to a good prank?” Your fingers twinkle in the air beside your head. “Believability. Besides—” now a forefinger taps at your temple— “nothing gets past this.”

“Your ego?” he guesses with a smirk that is sincere, if nothing else.

“My brain, Sy.”

“Ah.”

Your ego— tsk. Your feet are dangling from the bed, playing with a slipper they’ve fished out from underneath it, and you have half a mind to launch it at him. This doesn’t feel like one of your usual games, though, and you’ve had a whole ride through the N109 Zone to figure out why.

“I really hurt you, didn’t I?” you speak like a confession, staring down at the floor so you don’t have to meet his eyes. “That’s what all this is about, right? You wanted to get back at me for dinner?”

“No, I—”

“I get it.” Your feet find the second slipper. “I do. I mean, it was a really shitty thing to do— walking out on you like that. Especially after you waited for me. You went to all that effort, and I— ah.” You’ve toed one of the slippers out of reach.

“Allow me,” comes a voice that’s suddenly close. Sylus’s figure looms over you before he’s crouching, kneeling by your feet. He still looks like a mess of sin, but he’s gentle as he retrieves the slipper for you. Removes your socks for you. Slides a slipper onto each of your cold feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he mutters.

You let out a sigh. “Sylus.” You’re scolding him, and he gazes up at you, his eyes garnets of adoration only you could afford. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“So why won’t you tell me how you feel?”

He sits back on his knees, his thumb drawing circles on the inside of your ankle. The ministrations are mindless, and so are his words: “How I feel is not important.”

“Of course it is!” You pull away from him. “Don’t say things like that.”

“But I thought I could tell you anything, kitten.”

It’s a nick from a blade that could do much worse; he wants you to feel how sharp it is. His smile is a warning and he’s waiting for the hunter in you to strike back, because violence is what you’re good at. What you’re both good at. It hurts, but it’s easy.

You shift forward on the bed. “Sylus… you don’t need to protect me. Not from you. Not from anything you feel. I want you to be happy, to tell me if you’re unhappy. I don’t need you to—” your fingers skirt over his chest and you falter inexplicably— “to sacrifice yourself for me.”

Sylus looks down to where you’re tracing the shape of his heart on his skin. He lets out a long, beleaguered breath, then leans closer to you, his head turning away as he settles it on your lap. Your hands find his hair instinctually, threading through it in slow, meandering motions.

“I want you to be mine,” he admits on another sigh.

He can’t see you smile, but he’ll hear it in your voice: “I am yours, Sy—”

“No— just mine.”

He won’t make it a demand. Even asking you nicely has him breathless and still, like the drawn-out pause of a finished symphony. Your hands stop moving, out of respect for the quiet. You’re remembering the times you’ve been late out of your building because you’d stumbled into Xavier in the lobby. The doctor’s appointments that always overrun, and Rafayel’s ‘emergency’ phone calls.

“Come and sit with me,” you mumble, patting the bed beside you.

When Sylus does, it’s with the same reluctance a cat surrenders a sliver of sun. Lazy and listless— still warm from the light. The bed sinks under his weight and you turn to face him. His robe’s collar has fallen further, so you hook a finger under it to draw it back up to his neck. Then you straighten the lapels, smoothing them over distractedly.

He’s watching your face, not the movements of your hands. Your cheeks feel warm. “I was speaking to Rafayel earlier, and we—”

A groan, and Sylus is no longer at your fingertips; he’s flopped down backwards on the bed, his hand over his face. You can’t help giggling— you’ve broken the big, bad boss of Onychinus, it seems. Is that all it takes? You grin as you lie down with him, settling on your side, propped up on an elbow. He doesn’t stir when you fix a few stray strands of his hair.

“We talked about boundaries,” you continue. “How I can’t be on call twenty-four seven, and how he’s going to take better care of himself, so I don’t have to be.”

Sylus has moved his hand, ever so slightly.

There’s more: “I’m gonna call in sick to work tomorrow. I made a deal with Xavier, that’s why I stayed late today. He’ll cover for me.” You shift closer. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I know I can’t always be with you, but I am always thinking of you, I promise. You’re always with me in spirit, Sy, even if not in—” you press a quick kiss to his chest— “body.”

He chuckles at the words, or maybe the touch tickled.

You grin down at him. “I’m yours. Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“No! Ugh, just—” Smart-ass! You flick his forehead as he laughs quietly. “Not the words ‘I’m yours’, say that I’m—”

His hand is at your face, pulling you in so he can kiss you. It’s slow and it’s patient; he’s taking his time, and you won’t slip away. You can feel his smile. “You’re mine,” he murmurs when he finally withdraws. One more kiss, lighter, on the tip of your nose. “Just mine.”

Always. You let him pull you into an embrace, snuggling into his warmth like you’ve been wanting to from the moment you last left it. You can hear his heartbeat beneath the lullaby of his breath. “Sy?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“You look really hot when you’re pretending to cheat on me.”

He scoffs, but a yawn comes before his response. “Don’t get any ideas, kitten.”

Your quiet is pensive. “I have this lunch with Zayne later this week. I really should text him to find out—”

The grip around you constricts, and a voice is in your ear, soft and possessive:

“What did I just say?”

[yourlocalravendork]

✭Feeling overdressed✭

AN: I have been seeing a lot of Sabrina Carpenter/short and sweet inspired fics with Spencer and I wanted to try my hand at one. Summary: After Penelope practically begged the team to tag along, Spencer gets a rather sweet surprise at the concert Cw: very feminine presenting reader, suggestive themes, Singer!reader x Spencer

"And that is why you guys need to come with me," Penelope was practically pleading to Derek and Spencer as they started to head out, "Come on, after that case, don't you think you need a break." Spencer was already very weary. Modern music was certainly not his scene. Almost all of the artists he liked were dead.

"Garcia, this isn't exactly my kind of music," Spencer pointed out. "But you need to spread you beautiful, nerdy wings. Expand into new territory, see other walks of life." Penelope was really trying to sell it to these guys. Derek could see where Spencer was coming from. Your music was far from the kind that Spencer would listen to. However, it would be a nice evening out. "Come on kid, it's just one show. If you don't like it, then I'll buy you a book or something," Derek offered. Spencer thought about it for a few seconds. A new book was tempting. And it was only one evening. "Fine, fine, I'll come along," Spencer finally caved.

Derek and Spencer were not expecting whatever this was. Waiting to get in, they were surrounded by girls. There were a few bored looking boyfriends, shooting them looks of sympathy, but other than that, they were in a sea of women. Derek was in his element. He was winking and smirking at girls that were staring at him, causing them to run off in giggles. Spencer, however, felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. "I'll go get you guys drinks," Spencer proposed. He just wanted to get out of the loud, packed arena they were waiting in. "Oh no, boy genius, we're not letting you out of our sights. Can't be losing you," Penelope protested, wrapping an arm around his. So the three of them made their way to the bar.

"ID please," the rather bored bartender asked Spencer. Derek was trying to hold back his laugh. Spencer did look younger than he actually was. With a small sigh, Spencer pulled out his FBI badge and showed it to the bartender. "FBI, huh? Impressive." Based on their tone, the bartender wasn't actually all that impressed. It was just small talk, Spencer assumed. Security overheard the word FBI and came over. "FBI?" he asked. Penelope, Derek and Spencer nodded. "We're just here for the show though. None of this is linked to our job," Derek explained. The security guard nodded before telling them to follow him. Penelope was practically buzzing as he lead them into the venue early. "Maybe we need to flash our badges more often," Penelope joked with a very excited smile.

The stadium filled rather quickly and Spencer was very glad they were brought in early. He would not have been able to manage otherwise. Pulling out his little earplugs, he knew he would be overstimulated otherwise. He could still hear everything he needed to, it just quietened all the unnecessary humming. Then the show started. You came running out with a towel wrapped around you before seductively unwrapping it to reveal a baby pink bodysuit. Needless to say, Spencer was not expecting that. "Is she always so provocative?" Spencer attempted to ask Penelope but he was pretty sure his question was drowned out by excited squeels. He was beginning to really feel out of place here, wishing for the comfort of his books.

As the show went on, Spencer found an appreciation in the lyrics. The innuendos and word play was certainly something to admire. He'd had to get over how suggestive your show was, it certainly wasn't something he was used to. It was the third act of the show and security had gathered the three of them and brought them in front of the barrier. Penelope was practically passing out from excitement and Spencer and Derek were confused. Suddenly the noise of sirens filled the stadium and on the screens, Derek, Penelope and Spencer's face filled the screen. "I heard we had some FBI agents with us tonight," You said, eliciting a cheer from the crowd, "And I know that normally it's the other way round but, my god, you're all too hot. I just like, have to arrest you. What's your name cutie?" Spencer felt his cheeks heat up. He was never good at having the spotlight and here he was, in front of thousands. Derek, ever the ladies man, decided that it was aimed towards him. "No, not you, hunk. The guy next to you." Spencer practically froze and if it wasn't for Penelope's nudge, he would've just stood there, gulping like a fish. "Spencer," he called out, his voice shaking a little. "Spencer? Well, I'm feeling really overdressed here, Spencer," And with that, your skirt fell down to show a short skirt. Spencer's cheeks burnt bright red. "That's much better," you said, before one of your dancers handed you a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs. "I know, I know you're normally the ones arresting people, but, I mean, you're just too cute, I have to arrest you." You gave him a feignned look of sympathy and handed the handcuffs to security to pass onto Spencer. With your fingers, you made a telephone shape and mouthed 'call me' to him. As he looked down, your number was written on them. Penelope couldn't believe it. Any of it. It was crazy. Spencer was still in awe. You, however, were unshaken and continued your show as always.

"Oh I hear you knocking, Spencer, come on up," you sang and Spencer almost choked on the water he was drinking. You were so fun and flirty, the total opposite of him. And here you were, embracing your sexuality in front of everyone.

If Spencer thought that was scandalous then he was not ready for the next part. "Wanna try out some freaky positions," you sang before running to the end of the stage. You led down, lifted your leg in the air, shot a look in Spencer's direction as you winked and then said, "Have you ever tried this one?" Spencer felt like a victorian husband seeing his wife's ankles for the first time. He wasn't sure how exactly to feel. All he knew was that this was a night he really wasn't going to be forgetting anytime soon. And that he has a phone call he needs to make.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Summer Serendipity

Summary: It was the summer break between the races, and Oscar suddenly came across a travel magazine about a quiet town in Northern Ireland on the work desk of someone who had left it open when he was visiting McLaren’s HQ in Woking. Next thing, he was on his way to Belfast, with nothing much on his mind, no worries about the championship standings, the braking mode, the corners or chicanes,... Nothing, just him and his summer getaway in Belfast.

Meanwhile, Edith Ezra, a devoted single mother working at a quaint cafe in Belfast, cherishes her two children, Ivy and Eddie, above all else. Having faced the heartbreak of their father's abandonment, Edith has built a life centred around providing for her family and creating a sense of stability for her children.

When Oscar's path crosses with Edith's in Belfast, their worlds collide in unexpected ways. As Oscar finds himself drawn to the warmth and genuine kindness of Edith and her children, he begins to see a different side of life beyond the fast-paced world of racing.

Author's note: here it is!!! The very first chapter in my first Oscar's fic. Hope you guys will like it, and please send me any message whether you like it or not, and if you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know too! Happy reading.

Oscar couldn’t handle the pressure any more. His stress levels were at their peak, and if he made it to the end of the season without telling Zak, Andrea or Mark what he thought of everything inside his mind, it would be a miracle. 

He felt like his life was spinning out of control, and he just didn’t know which way to turn. What was next for Oscar Jack Piastri? He couldn’t even tell or have any clue. He was number two on the championship standings, but what’s next for him? To always be second best to Lando, never number one? He felt like no one could even understand him these days, not even himself. His confidence was knocked. His motivation seemed to be at an all-time low. Despite that, he still did well every weekend. But was it the car or his talent?

So here he was. The Belgian Grand Prix had been yet another victory for the team with a double podiums for McLaren, first place for Lando and third place for him. As the national anthem played, Oscar’s eyes drifted to Lando. His teammate, his friend, his rival. Lando had it all: the charm, the confidence, the adoration of the fans. He was the golden boy of McLaren, and Oscar? He was the talented number two driver, the understudy, the one destined to be "almost." Second in the championship standings, second in the eyes of the team, second in the hearts of the fans. No matter how hard he pushed himself, no matter how flawlessly he executed his laps, it was never enough. He was never enough.

Later that evening, the McLaren motorhome was alive with celebration. The team’s double podium was a reason to rejoice, and the energy was infectious. Mechanics clinked glasses, engineers laughed over inside jokes, and Zak Brown, the team principal, made a toast that brought cheers and applause from all corners of the room. But Oscar wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. He nursed a glass of sparkling champagne, avoiding eye contact with his teammates as he lingered on the fringes of the crowd. Every laugh, every pat on the back felt like a reminder of the expectations he carried on his shoulders.

“Oscar, mate, cheer up!” Lando’s voice cut through the noise as he approached, a mischievous grin on his face. “Third place is still a win in my book.”

Oscar forced a smile. “Yeah, sure. Just tired, that’s all.”

But Lando wasn’t buying it. “You’ve been ‘just tired’ for weeks now. What’s going on?”

Oscar hesitated, the words forming in his throat but refusing to come out. How could he explain the storm raging inside him? The self-doubt, the pressure, the feeling of being trapped in a world that demanded perfection at every turn? Instead, he shrugged, muttering something about needing sleep before slipping away from the party. To be honest, Oscar was glad for the summer break. Four weeks of not having to see anyone. Four weeks to get himself together. He’d originally been supposed to be flying home the day after the race, but Zak decided that they should visit McLaren’s HQ in Woking to celebrate with everyone there. While he appreciated the camaraderie and support of his team, the idea of facing his colleagues and superiors in his current state of mind filled him with anxiety. 

As Oscar sat on the plane, his thoughts swirling with doubts and uncertainties, he couldn't help but wonder about the path ahead. Would he always be destined to play second fiddle to Lando, forever chasing the elusive dream of becoming number one? Or was there a deeper truth to be uncovered about his own capabilities and potential? As the plane touched down in England, Oscar braced himself for the upcoming visit to McLaren's HQ. Everyone here in the factory was nothing but nice towards them. It was like a homecoming for the heroes, because McLaren hadn’t been first in both the WCC and WDC in like forever. So he and Lando gave a speech to send out their gratitude to the employees. They even got the chance to go and visit each department in the factory. It was during a tour of the engineering department that Oscar’s eyes landed on a travel magazine sitting on someone’s desk. The cover featured a breathtaking photograph of a quiet coastal town in Northern Ireland, its rugged cliffs and emerald-green fields bathed in golden sunlight. The headline read: “Escape to Tranquillity: Discover the Hidden Gems of Northern Ireland.” For a moment, the noise around him faded, replaced by the gentle pull of the image. He imagined himself standing on those cliffs, the wind in his hair, the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders. The thought was intoxicating, a glimmer of hope in the midst of his turmoil. He didn’t know why, but something about that town called to him, promising a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years.

And so, as the next morning came, the boarding call went out for his flight. This was it. Oscar Jack Piastri was about to disappear. To Belfast off he went. 

The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of Edith’s small but cozy kitchen, casting dappled light across the table where a half-empty mug of tea sat cooling. Edith Ezra leaned against the counter, her arms folded tightly across her chest, and let out a long breath. The house was finally quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional chirp of birds outside. Ivy and Eddie had been picked up by her neighbour, Mrs. Doyle, who had kindly offered to take the twins to the park for an hour. Edith didn’t take moments like this for granted; five minutes of peace were rare in her world, and she cherished every one of them.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where sunlight poured in, illuminating the worn wooden floor beneath her feet. It was another beautiful day, the kind that made the world seem a little brighter, a little softer. Belfast was unpredictable when it came to weather, but days like today were perfect, not too warm, just enough sun to coax people out of their homes and into her café. Business had been steady lately, which was a blessing. The café wasn’t much, just a small shop tucked into a quiet corner of the city, but it was hers. After years of working two jobs, saving every spare penny, and scraping together the courage to take the leap, Edith had finally made her dream a reality. She glanced at the clock on the wall. One hour until opening. Angie, her part-time employee, would be arriving soon to help set up. Angie was a godsend, not just for her hard work but for her kindness. She always seemed to know when Edith needed an extra hand or a listening ear. And sometimes, on particularly chaotic days, she even helped keep an eye on the twins.

The kids, Ivy and Eddie, were Edith’s four, nearly five-year-old twins. They looked nothing like her. They were blonde, and she was red. They were an exact copy of their father in almost every way, well, except for their eyes, as they were blue, like Edith’s.  Everytime Edith looked at them, she was reminded by the twins’ father, or as she always call him the A-class asshole. Because he had decided that his time was too precious to spend being a daddy at such a young age, and had run away after hearing that Edith was pregnant. At first, she had been devastated. Dropping out of university, moving back in with her parents, and learning how to be a mother to not one but two babies had been overwhelming. But the moment she heard their tiny heartbeats on the ultrasound, something shifted in her. She had found a strength she never knew she had, and by the time Ivy and Eddie were born, she was determined to give them the best life she could. It hadn’t been easy. There were sleepless nights, endless shifts at thankless jobs, and moments when she wasn’t sure how she would make ends meet. But there were also moments of pure joy; first steps, first words, laughter that filled the house and made everything worthwhile. Slowly but surely, with the help of her parents and a few close friends, Edith had built a life for herself and her children.

Still, there were days when the past weighed heavily on her. Days when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and barely recognised the woman staring back. Her once-confident smile had faded, replaced by a look of quiet determination. She had put her dreams, her ambitions, even her sense of self on hold to be the mother her children needed. And while she didn’t regret a single moment of it, there were times when she wondered if she would ever feel like herself again.

Dating wasn’t something she even considered anymore. It wasn’t just that she didn’t have the time, though that was certainly part of it; it was that she didn’t see the point. Her ex had shattered her confidence, leaving her with lingering doubts about her worth. And besides, she had Ivy and Eddie. They were all she needed.

The sound of the front door opening pulled her from her thoughts. Angie stepped inside, a bright smile on her face and flowers in her hand. 

“Morning, Edith,” she said cheerfully. “I stopped by the flower shop on my way here. Thought we could use these for the display case.”

Edith smiled, grateful as always for Angie’s thoughtfulness. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I’ll take a vase to go with them.”

As the two women set to work preparing the café for the day, Edith felt a sense of calm settle over her. The familiar routine of brewing coffee, arranging pastries, and wiping down tables was comforting, grounding. Here, in this small space she had created, she felt in control.

But even as she busied herself with the tasks at hand, a nagging thought lingered in the back of her mind. Was this it? Was this all her life would ever be? She loved her children, loved her café, but a tiny part of her longed for something more. 

She shook her head, brushing the thought away. There was no time for daydreams. The café was opening soon, and customers would be arriving shortly.

Meanwhile, across the Irish Sea, Oscar Piastri sat on a plane bound for Belfast, his mind racing with doubts and questions about the path he had chosen.

Instagram Post: @/Edithlovesedit

Liked by @/Angiethebougie, @/Luckyluke and 88 people.

@/Edithlovesedit: Hi! It's Edith's account here, and Edith loves to edit everything 🤗

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@/Angiethebougie: girl, come back here we have a coffee shop to open

-> @/Edithlovesedit: aye aye, captain! brb just gotta go and kiss my babies first.

@/Luckyluke: Oh to have the red hair like yours 😭

-> @/Edithlovesedit: yours is prettier than mine 🫶🏻

-> @/Luckyluke: Shut up im running to ur place for that croissant now, better save me one

-> @/Edithlovesedit: tick tick tick the clock is clocking Luke 🤭

Oscar tugged the brim of his cap lower over his eyes as he stepped off the plane and into the crisp, late-morning air of Belfast. He traveled light, just a backpack slung over one shoulder and a small suitcase in tow. No entourage. No cameras. No team members trailing behind him. For once, he was just another traveler, one more face in the blur of arrivals. And that, strangely, felt like a relief.

Outside the airport, the rhythm of the city was slower, quieter. The cobblestone streets weren’t made for wheeled suitcases, and his bumped along awkwardly as he walked, the small wheels catching in every uneven gap. He paused for a moment, scanning the narrow street ahead of him.

It was nothing like the world he had just left behind. There were no roaring engines, no flashing media lights, no towering hospitality suites or sponsor banners. Just brick buildings with ivy-covered walls, flower pots swaying from lampposts, and the distant sound of laughter spilling from a nearby pub. For a brief second, Oscar wondered if this whole trip had been a mistake. The silence felt almost too loud. But then he reminded himself why he was here: to escape, to breathe, and maybe, finally, to figure out who he was beyond the track.

He hadn’t come with much of a plan, just a quiet rental flat above a local bookshop, a small space near the city centre with no luxury, no distractions, and a view of a street lined with cafés and flower stalls. It was, in every sense, the opposite of his usual world.

His first morning in Belfast was slow and meandering. He woke late, then wandered aimlessly through cobbled alleys, past colourful shopfronts and street musicians playing soft melodies on corners. He hadn’t spoken to anyone, and for now, he liked it that way. With his cap pulled low and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, he moved unnoticed, unbothered. For once, he wasn’t Oscar Piastri, Formula 1 driver. He was just…Oscar.

Then, as he turned a quiet corner, it caught his eye, a small café tucked between two taller buildings. The sign above the door read The Bean & Blossom, painted in elegant cursive with a steaming cup of coffee beside it. It stood out, but not in a flashy way. It was the kind of place that felt like a secret you were lucky to find. Oscar’s stomach gave a quiet protest, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since leaving Woking. He stepped toward the door, hesitating only a second before pulling it open and letting the warmth of The Bean & Blossom pull him in.

The café had an old brick exterior softened by vines climbing up the walls and copper light fixtures that would glow warmly after sunset. The bell over the door chimed a little too enthusiastically every time someone walked in or out, but no one seemed to mind, it was part of the charm.

Inside, the space was cozy and calm. The walls were painted a soft sage green, decorated with mismatched picture frames, some holding vintage travel posters, others filled with candid snapshots of regulars and community events. A bookshelf near the counter offered well-loved novels for customers to borrow or trade, and tiny succulents in colorful pots lined the windowsills.

The place had a subtle vintage feel, like it had existed forever without trying too hard. The wooden floorboards creaked gently underfoot. No two chairs matched, yet the mismatched furniture somehow blended together into something warm and lived-in. In the corner sat a reading nook with two velvet armchairs and a small round table, always topped with a jar of homemade cookies and the latest issues of local magazines.

The aroma inside was enough to make Oscar pause, a comforting mix of fresh espresso, warm bread, and something sweet, like vanilla or cinnamon. Behind the counter, a chalkboard menu displayed the day’s specials, each one accompanied by tiny doodles: stars, mugs, little smiley faces. The display case was a wonder of its own: rows of pastries lined neatly, each one practically glowing under the soft lights. Scones, tarts, and thick slices of lemon drizzle cake sat beside the famous cinnamon swirls, which, as a note scrawled in chalk said, were "always the first to go (sorry not sorry!)".

Oscar stepped further inside, letting the door swing closed behind him with a soft jingle. For a brief moment, he just stood there, taking it all in: the hum of conversation, the soft hiss of the coffee machine, the occasional clink of cutlery against ceramic. It felt like stepping into someone else’s life, the kind where things moved slower and mornings could stretch on forever without urgency.

The café wasn’t crowded, just a few people scattered around. A man in a fisherman’s sweater sat by the window with a newspaper folded in half, a mother with a toddler tried to coax bites of muffin between animated chatter, and a girl in a beret sketched something in a notebook near the back. No one looked up. No one noticed him.

Oscar exhaled quietly and approached the counter.

Behind it stood a woman, mid-twenties, maybe younger, with a messy bun perched high on her head and flour dusted lightly across the sleeve of her cardigan. She was scribbling something onto the chalkboard, pausing every few seconds to add a doodle beside one of the specials. Her face was half-hidden behind a curtain of red curls, but her focus was laser-sharp, tongue caught slightly between her teeth in concentration.

Oscar cleared his throat gently. “Hey.”

The woman turned, blinking in surprise before offering a warm, genuine smile that reached her eyes. “Morning! Sorry, I was in the zone.” She tossed the chalk aside and wiped her hands on her apron. “What can I get you?”

He scanned the chalkboard for a second, then gave a small shrug. “Honestly? I have no idea. Something good. Something that might make up for a seven a.m. flight and a very questionable airport sandwich.”

She grinned, already reaching for a mug. “Rough morning, huh? You’ve come to the right place. I prescribe coffee and sugar. Trust me, I’m basically a professional.”

Oscar let out a soft laugh. “I’ll take whatever your prescription is.”

She moved with ease behind the counter, every step familiar, like a quiet rhythm she knew by heart. As she worked, she spoke over her shoulder, “I’m Edith, by the way. And you?”

There was a moment’s pause before Oscar answered. “Oscar.”

No surname. No recognition flickered across her face, and he didn’t offer more. Just Oscar.

“Well, Oscar,” she said, setting a latte down in front of him with a swirl of foam shaped into something that looked vaguely like a tulip. “Welcome to The Bean & Blossom. Your cinnamon swirl is warming up now, I figured you’d want the full first-time experience.”

Oscar looked down at the drink, then back at Edith, that same small smile still tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was the first time in days he’d felt like someone was speaking to him, not at him.

He nodded, quiet but grateful. “Thanks. This place... It’s nice.”

Edith leaned slightly on the counter, brushing flour off her fingertips. “It’s a bit of a mess sometimes, but yeah. I like to think it’s got a good heart.”

Oscar took a sip of his drink. The coffee was smooth, rich, a little sweet, exactly what he hadn’t known he needed.

He glanced around again, already sensing that he might be back here tomorrow. Maybe the day after that, too.

And for the first time in weeks, maybe longer, he didn’t feel like he was running from something.He felt like he was running toward something.

Taglist: @teamnovalak

[killerlookz]

heyyy💋 so could i request a fic where reader is an eurovision contestant and basically her & joost are attached to the hip. they are seen being all cuddly with each other, flirting, sitting as close to each other as possible, the cameras catching your non so secret glances.. generally acting like a couple. but when the press asks you about this whole situation, you both deny that you have something going on between you two, but deep down you know that those gestures are not so “innocent” at all🤭🤭

a/n: ooooh i love a cheeky little secret romance!! thank you for the request anon <3

Just Friends | Joost Klein

content: gn! reader, very brief allusion to sex, joost and reader are so down bad for each other its a little pathetic, mostly fluff, some angst if you look at it under a microscope. this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable, and please block the rpf tag

word count: 2128

You sit on the edge of your hotel bed, you smile, your cheeks grow hot, letting out a small breath from your nose, replacing a genuine laugh.

Your phone sits in your lap, opened to a message

Joost Klein: When were you planning to tell me that I'm your secret lover 😓

What followed was a screenshot from some European tabloid sight, headed by: Eurovision Contestants Spotted Getting Cozy: Secret Lovers Revealed?!

Below were two grainy photos of you and Joost, taken just moments apart from each other. Taken from behind, they showed the two of you walking side by side, just outside the hotel you were staying in. It would have looked more like a friendly exchange if your hands hadn't been locked together.

You knew you'd have to explain everything eventually, that was the third headline this week that had come out about you and Joost. Another showed the two of you sharing a hug that looked a little too close for it to be friendly, in another you had a hand planted on his chest, and your head tilted back mid-laugh.

It all seemed a little ridiculous. You knew Eurovision was one of the largest events in all of Europe- but still, you couldn't have imagined how interested people would be in your personal life off the stage.

It was nothing too scandalous anyway, you and Joost had known each other prior to Eurovision. And sure, you were more casual friends, despite being from different countries, the two of you had run in similar circles with music and all. You had spent the last few years admiring each other's music, usually from afar, the times the two of you had genuinely hung out before all this were few and far between. Your conversations were usually reserved for more chaotic moments, either backstage at the end of a show or in the crowd for a musician friend the two of you had in common.

You couldn't exactly explain away all of the touchy-touchy stuff, but you never expected that you would have to, it had just always been like that, ever since you first met. Truthfully, the two of you were closer than the tabloid photos led on. But they didn't have to know that.

Hasty fingers tap at your phone screen

apparently it's so secret that i didn't know it either!

You send your response to Joost before closing your phone and tossing it somewhere on the bed. You lay back, landing on the firm mattress with a small bounce.

Your eyelids are lowered, trying your best to keep focus on the woman in front of you through heavy lids- though it seems impossible with the crisp white LEDs shining in your face.

"So, have you made any connections with any other contestants since you've been here in Malmö?" The woman asks, a curious eyebrow-raising as she guides the microphone in her hands in front of your face.

You know exactly what she wants to hear from you, the hunger is evident in her eyes, she licks her lips in desperation for a scoop, before her mouth pulls into a sly smile, it all feels so predatory. You swallow thickly, shifting a quick gaze toward the cameraman before flicking your eyes back to the reporter, who has an equally as hungry look on his face, and you realize, you are their prey.

"Yeah, absolutely," You nod, your face lights up, "I've honestly really connected with Bambi Thug, they're really bringing such a new and innovative sound to Eurovision, I really admire them for that, and don't let the makeup and costumes fool you they are an absolute sweetheart!" It wasn't a lie, Joost was not the only person you had talked to since the competition started. You did make friends while you'd been here.

The journalist loses her grin, her face now twisted with dissatisfaction.

"Anyone else?" She asks, nearly cutting you off, her microphone still stuck in your face.

"Marina has been an absolute joy too," Your smile lingers on your lips, "And Nemo- they're great too!"

"Well," The journalist starts, facing the microphone back to her, "I think we've all been hearing the rumors about some sparks flying between you and the Dutch representative, Joost Klein, is there any truth to them?"

You're a little taken back by her forwardness to just outright ask the question,

"I wasn't aware of any rumors," You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head in vehement denial, "But Joost is great too, we've known each other for a few years now, and I've been a big fan of his music, and he's a great friend." You breathe out, silently hoping the answer is satisfactory for the journalist to cease probing any further.

"No potential for anything more than a friendship?"

"Oh no," You shake your head, nearly scoffing as the words choke out of your mouth, and you hope you're as good of an actress as you are a singer, "Again, Joost is great, but he's just my friend."

"Alright," She nods her head slowly, unsatisfied. The way the journalist's eyes linger on you makes it clear she doesn't quite believe you- but it would be inappropriate of her to ask you any more questions on the matter.

"Would you like to talk about my music now?"

"I just don't know why they're acting like we had a sex tape leak- do these people not hug their friends?" You throw your hands up, frustrated. The last two days had been nothing but interviews, but it seemed none of the interviewers were as interested in your actual Eurovision performance as they were in potentially getting the first scoop on what was "going on" between you and Joost.

"I mean that would give them something to talk about," Joost chuckles, standing at the foot of your hotel bed, he's clad in nothing but a white tank top and his underwear. The tight fabric of what little he's wearing clings to his body, leaving just about nothing to the imagination. He ruffles a hand through his already messy hair. You'd wondered what the tabloids would say if they got a whiff of this, "All press is good press"

"Are you suggesting something, Mr. Klein?" You flash a look at him, your eyes piercing his. Your words come out much harsher than you had intended them to, you couldn't help it, your frustration was evident.

Joost placed a hand behind his neck, rubbing anxiously, throwing a sheepish look in your direction as to insinuate he had been suggesting something. You knew he was only joking, but the thought of actually doing such a thing made your face hot. A light pink blush burned on your face as you stared up at him.

"You're filthy," You giggle, and your hands latch on to a pillow that sits next to you, and you fling it in Joost's direction.

He takes a step back as the pillow hits him square in the stomach, a loud thump can be heard in the room as contact between his body and the stuffed object is made. He choked out a breath of surprise, and his face winced as he grabbed his stomach in feigned agony,

"How could you," He shakes his head, "I think you broke every single one of my ribs."

"Shush," You scoff, "C'mon, get over here." You pat the bed next to you, shifting yourself over to one side.

In typical Joost fashion, he practically jumps onto the bed. He adjusts himself in such a way that his shoulder is brushing up against yours. He's warm, and you want nothing more than to crawl into his arms. It was almost pitiful the way you wanted him, completely desperate. And yet, you don't dare to act- not right now.

The room falls silent as the both of you hesitate to say anything. The room is thick with a humid tension, and words left unsaid. Your reccolection of the last few days seemed non-existent yet ever-present at the same time. Everything had left you wondering the same exact questions as every journalist who had talked to you today, what was going on between you and Joost?

"I can feel the stress radiating off of you," Joost finally speaks, "Are you okay?"

You furrow your eyebrows, looking down into your lap where your fingers are not fidgeting and intertwined. Your face twitches.

"Are you really so upset about those interviews? Do you want to stop this, I can lea-"

"No," you cut him off all too quickly, "No stay. Please." Your voice had shriveled down to nothing but a pathetic whisper. As confusing as your feelings had been, the confusion seemed to be better than not having them at all. It was hard being away from home and feeling like you were bracing the weight of the world or at least of Europe against your shoulders. Joost, at least, was a source of comfort, something to come back to.

"Okay," He nods, his head moving up and down slowly.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't felt some sort of way about Joost before all of this. His affectionate nature with you seemed to cross all of the wires in your brain. He had always been affectionate with his close friends, not afraid to spare a hug or an arm around the shoulder when he felt like it, but with you it seemed different, especially taking into account neither of you would exactly consider the other as a "best friend."

Besides, even if you were, best friends don't usually stay up all night, lying on top of each other in some state of undress, lips hungrily pressed against one another. This whole situation had left you feeling like you were a teen again, the prickling feeling in your chest of excitement and anxiety of sneaking around to see a boy you liked. It was addicting, the adrenaline that flooded each and every inch of your body, as the two of you snuck off from the afterparties where your appearances were all but mandatory. You'd be lying if you said it didn't at least help a little to take the edge off of all the stress of the competition.

An arm snakes around your shoulder, and immediately Joost is clicking his tongue disapprovingly

"So tense," He mumbles, "Lay down, will you?" His voice is quiet, nearly pleading, and much more timid than you're used to. You feel compelled to oblige, spellbound, his soft words are like hypnosis.

Joost's arm slips from where it sits around your shoulder as you sink into the pillows below. You allow your body to relax into the support of the mattress.

A hand grazes your thigh, trailing down to your knee, Joost gives you a couple gentle taps, "Put your legs up, I'll pull down the blanket for you."

You oblige, bending your knees to pull them inward, and Joost hops off the bed for a moment, grabbing the thick white comforter in his hands from its neatly made position. You shift as he pulls it from under your body, allowing the blanket to slip down to your feet.

The bed dips as Joost crawls back to his position next to you. He reaches out to the foot of the bed, pulling the comforter up to cover the two of you.

"So," You start, rolling on your side, facing away from Joost, "Did they ask you about me?"

The blanket above you shifts as Joost adjusts himself to lie down next to you. He places a gentle hand against your hip, rubbing careful circles against the fabric that separates your skin from his. His chin rests upon your shoulder, and almost instinctively you nuzzle your cheek against his.

"Mhmm," His gentle hum vibrates against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"What did you say?" You ask and your teeth clench, your eyes shut tight, waiting with anticipation for his response, hoping for it to line up with yours. You could only imagine the suspicion that would arise if the two of you were to have given entirely different answers to the same question.

"I told them we're friends, just friends."

Your jaw slacks at the relief, and you let out a sigh, eyes fluttering open. But something about those words coming from his mouth, just friends, as his words graze your ears your relief is coupled with a stinging feeling in your chest, a sharp reminder of the peculiar position you had found yourself in.

"And are we," You pause, "Just friends?"

Joost picks his head up from where it rests on your shoulder, ghosting the exposed flesh of your arm with a kiss.

"Not if you don't want us to be."

a/n: i added a pt. II to this, read it here!

[witchywithwhiskey]

just want you for my own

pairing: husband!bucky barnes x curvy!female reader

summary: you convince your husband to stay home from work and pretend you've been snowed in so that you can spend the day decorating for christmas.

warnings: fluff, kissing, a married couple making out a lot, some under the shirt groping, some dry humping if you squint, talk of bucky's prosthetic arm/bucky doesn't wear his prosthetic arm to bed. that's pretty much it!

word count: 2.2k

a/n: here's my third fic for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, using the prompt: "It's too cold, stay in bed." one of these days, i'll get back on track of my original posting schedule for this challenge, but today is not that day 😅 anyway, have some festive fluff, i'm off to bake cookies!! ♡

december daze challenge masterlist

You weren’t sure what woke you, the world around you beginning to creep in as you started to rouse. But then, despite the fact that you were buried under a veritable mound of blankets, a shiver raced down your spine. Your body felt a little chillier than it had before you’d woken—you were certain of it.

Opening your eyes, you were met with the sight of snowflakes falling from the sky, gently swirling and dancing down the Brooklyn street you called home. They were pretty to look at, but you were glad they were outside, while you were tucked in bed, as snug as a bug. Or, almost, at least.

The mattress dipped on the other side of the bed, so gently, you might not have felt it if you hadn’t already been awake, and you realized what had woken you. Your husband, Bucky Barnes, was trying to sneak out of bed without disturbing you.

Rolling over with a disgruntled harrumph, you reached out and managed to curl your fingers around his side, making him pause and catch your eye. You were still buried in blankets, but Bucky never had a problem finding your eyes, or any other part of you. 

“It’s too cold, stay in bed.”

Your voice was soft around the edges, sleep still clinging on, and despite your best efforts to hold your husband’s gaze, you could feel your eyelids beginning to droop. 

Bucky rolled back to you with a smile, his hand burrowing beneath the blankets until it found your plush curves. With one arm—since he never slept with his prosthetic anymore, and it was probably in the dishwasher—he dragged you to him.

Your legs tangled in the blankets, but the rest of your body went willingly into his embrace. Your arms pulled him even closer, until you were snuggling into his chest. 

Bucky was so warm, you made a soft, contented little sound as you buried your face into the soft hair covering his broad chest, nuzzling into him while his arm tightened around you.

For a few moments, Bucky held you in silence. But before long, you couldn’t ignore the tension in his body. He wasn’t relaxing the same way you were and you pulled back so you could look at your handsome husband, a quizzical frown pulling the corners of your mouth down.

“Val wants me to come in,” he explained, answering your unasked question while his mouth flattened into a grim line. 

Val was Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, the closest thing Bucky had to a boss. She had a sharp tongue and a quick wit, and you might’ve liked her, if she wasn’t always dragging your husband away on some mission or another. 

You also didn’t like Val because your gut told you not to trust her, which was something you’d confided in Bucky not long after you’d met her at gala in Manhattan. Bucky shared your sentiment, but he still had to report to her, at least until he knew what she really wanted.

“Screw Val,” you huffed, leaning in to your husband and brushing a kiss to his deliciously stubbly jaw. It was getting long again, just the way you liked it, and you nuzzled deeper into Bucky’s cheek, nibbling playfully at the skin beneath the coarse scruff. “Besides, you said we’d decorate today—I cleared my schedule and everything.”

A rumbling contented sound came from Bucky’s chest and you could feel him softening, even as he said, “I don’t think Val cares about our plans.”

You snorted and bit a little harder at Bucky’s skin, drawing a growl from him. Muffling a laugh against his skin, you pressed a palm to Bucky’s stomach. Your fingertips dug lightly into the beefy layer of softness that cushioned the hard-packed muscle beneath, before you smoothed your hand up your husband’s bare chest in a soothing caress.

Your touch turned even more gentle as you neared the socket where his prosthetic arm attached to his body. It had taken a long time for Bucky to allow you to touch him there, and you knew how important it was that he trusted you enough to let you. Your fingertips grazed tenderly over the skin at the edge of the socket, before trailing down to his ribs. 

You’d never take it for granted that your husband trusted you to touch him anywhere on his body, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t use his body to get what you wanted. He was a trained, super-soldier assassin, after all, and he’d been the one to teach you to use any advantage you might have in a game of persuasion.

Curving your fingers around Bucky’s ribs, you pushed him onto his back, draping your much softer body over his as you hovered above him. A bulge in his boxer briefs pressed into your thigh, and you felt it twitch eagerly against your softness, making you smirk. 

“It’s snowing,” you pointed out, shifting again so that Bucky could look out the window. 

The movement pressed your tits to his chest, only the thin barrier of your sleep shirt in the way from him feeling your hardened nipples against his bare skin. You heard your husband swallow and watched the Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

Hiding your deepening smirk against Bucky’s stubbled jaw, you licked him shamelessly before you murmured in his ear, “Tell Val you’re snowed in.” 

Bucky cut his eyes to the window, taking in the flurries that were dancing on the December wind. 

It wasn’t a snowstorm by any means, and the weather reports had said New York City might get a light dusting, if anything stuck at all. You knew all this, but you still held your breath as Bucky seemed to consider what you’d said.

“I don’t think Val will buy that I’ve been snowed in in Brooklyn, baby,” he rumbled, regret in his voice. 

You were so distracted by the way your heart was sinking with disappointment that you didn’t notice the way your husband’s body tensed. A split second later, Bucky flipped you over onto your back, pinning you to the bed with his considerable weight. 

His hand pushed beneath the hem of your sleep shirt, groping your chubby waist and plush hips. Then his mouth found your jaw and he gave you taste of your own medicine, nipping at your skin playfully while you laughed and squirmed beneath him.

“I’ll make it work,” he murmured into your soft cheek, his mouth working closer to your lips while you panted beneath him, your heart racing in your chest. “Val owes me a day off—and I’d much rather spend today with my girl.”

“You better,” you muttered moments before Bucky’s mouth captured yours in a kiss. 

No matter how many times your husband kissed you, you’d never be get over the sheer perfection of it. His mouth molded to yours, kissing you hard even as there was still an edge of playfulness to it. And when Bucky licked at the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, you parted for him as you always did, accepting him into your body like you were welcoming him home. 

For a long time, you and Bucky kissed in your bed, taking enjoyment in each other’s bodies while the snow continued to fall outside the Brooklyn townhouse you called home. It was cozy and warm and perfect beneath the blankets, especially since the two of you were together.

Eventually, though, your stomach rumbled and Bucky had to call Val to let her know he wasn’t coming in. Together, you and Bucky dragged yourselves from bed and put on some more clothes before you made your way to the kitchen. Bucky pulled his metal arm from the dishwasher and attached it while you made coffee, then he put together some breakfast for the two of you.

You sat together at the island in your kitchen, your legs tangling with Bucky’s while you ate your breakfast and drank your coffee and caught up on each other’s weeks. The whole time, Bucky couldn’t stop touching you, his hand resting on your thigh or his arm wrapped around the back of your chair, holding you close.

After breakfast, both of you pulled on some snow boots and winter coats, and headed out into the snowy day to pick up a Christmas tree from the bodega around the corner. You argued over what made the perfect Christmas tree—whether it was height and robustness or character—before picking one out. Bucky hauled it back to your apartment easily, and you ran ahead, opening the doors for him. 

You sat on the couch and sipped a second cup of coffee while he got the tree situated in the stand and hung the lights. At one point, you offered to help, but Bucky waved you off, telling you he liked seeing you relaxing in the home you shared. When it was time to put up ornaments, though, you insisted on helping, since that was your favorite part.

All day, you and Bucky worked together, decorating your Brooklyn townhouse with as much Christmas cheer as you could manage while festive music played in the background. When you were finally done, you collapsed on the couch together and admired your work. 

The apartment looked great, but, in your opinion, there was still something missing—presents.

“Now comes the hard part,” you said solemnly, turning to Bucky, the corners of your mouth flickering as you struggled to keep the smile off your face. “What do you want for Christmas, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky’s eyes were molten blue when they met yours. A slow, predatory smile curving his mouth as his gaze raked down your body. You could feel his look scorching through your clothes, and your body responded, warming and coming alive as your husband ogled you shamelessly.

“All I want is you, Mrs. Barnes,” he said, laying an arm along the back of the couch behind your head and leaning into your personal space. You swatted at his chest, but it didn’t stop him from moving even closer.

“Bucky, I’m serious!” you scolded him, but you couldn’t help the laughter from bubbling up behind your lips, taking all the frustration from your tone. “I need to wrap something and put it under the tree.”

Bucky’s eyes dipped to your full tits, which were heaving gently in your sweater as your breathing picked up. He licked his lips, and you just knew he was picturing something filthy. Unfortunately for the conversation, your body warmed further, your nipples hardening in your bra.

“You won’t see me complainin’ if ya wanna wrap yourself up in pretty ribbons and wait for me under the tree,” your husband rumbled, pushing in close enough that he could brush a kiss to your cheek before murmuring in your ear. “I’d love to see your gorgeous body decorated all pretty for me, for your husband.”

“Bucky,” you chided softly, but the rest of your protests died on your tongue when your husband took your mouth in a searing kiss. He lay you down beneath him on the couch, covering you with his body as he kissed you breathless. 

You couldn’t have stopped yourself from opening for him even if you’d wanted to, but you certainly wanted to—you wanted Bucky to take you and have his way with you under the light of the Christmas tree you’d decorated together. So you kissed him harder, your fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck, until your lungs protested.

“OK,” you said, breaking away to gasp for air while Bucky kissed down your neck. “We can certainly circle back to trying that on Christmas day,” you said, moaning softly as Bucky’s hands groped your squeezable hips, his hips pushing between your soft thighs and rocking into you. “But I want to get you some actual presents, Bucky.”

The whine that had seeped into your tone finally dragged Bucky’s attention away from kissing your neck and he pushed himself up so he could look at you. Your lower lip was pushed out in a pout and your eyes were wide and pleading, and you knew you had him when he squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.

“Alright, baby,” Bucky conceded on a long sigh before opening his eyes. His expression softened as he took in the glee on your face, then ducked down to drop a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’ll give you a list.”

“Thank you, husband,” you murmured against Bucky’s mouth, pulling him back down until his weight was half-crushing your body into the couch, which was exactly how you liked it. “For always giving me what I want, even when I just want you for my own.” 

“You’re very welcome, wife,” Bucky rumbled, capturing your lips for a too-brief kiss. “I’m glad you talked me into getting snowed in today.” 

Laughter bubbled up in your chest and you had to break away from Bucky’s mouth as you cackled loudly. Bucky dropped his head, his chuckle muffled in your heaving chest as he laughed right along with you. 

For the rest of the evening, you snuggled on the couch with your husband, kissing him and talking about your wishlists and making plans for how you’d spend Christmas together. Because more than anything else, what mattered was that you would be together for Christmas—that year and for the rest of your lives.

december daze challenge masterlist