#the way she just says things like this and then quickly moves past them is driving me insane
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letstrip13 · 2 days ago
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୨୧ - picnic date
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summary: 🍓🧺💐
warnings: none!
word count: 750
author's note: idea from the amazing @mattscoquette she's the absolute sweetest ever and i'm so glad we became friends !! <3 sorry for the wait btw
author's note 2: click here! and click here! i have little announcements about my account
author's note 3: also i just started a thing i'm calling 'mae's sturniolo catch up' so check that out too!! :)
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matt walks next to you, your fingers interlaced together as his thumb rubs the back of your hand gently in back and forth motions. in his other hand is the picnic basket you two packed together.
“where's the spot you talked about?” you smile and swing your arms a little, feeling like a giddy teenager for this date. “we're almost there.”
after some more steps, you both approach a clearing amongst the field of wildflowers you've been walking through. the summer sun beats down on you and you fan yourself with your free hand. after what feels like an eternity, you finally get to your spot and he places the picnic basket on the ground.
𐙚 ࣪ ˖
after setting up the picnic blanket and the food you brought, you and matt sit close and start eating the little heart-shaped sandwiches he helped you make just that morning. well, ‘help’ is a strong word. he just stood there with his arms wrapped around your waist, occasionally taking a topping to eat when he thought you weren't looking, while you did all the work.
the mini sandwiches quickly disappear from the plate one by one and all that's left are crumbs as matt pulls a bottle of champagne and two glasses from the basket.
he opens the bottle with that satisfying pop and pours some out for you then himself. “happy three months, matt,” you say as you clink your glass against his. “happy three months,” he replies with a smile before kissing you.
sure it may not be a ‘normal’ couple thing to be celebrating an anniversary this early on, but the past three months with him have been some of the best of your life. and he felt the exact same way about you. some may even bring up the three month rule; after that you can be sure if you want to continue the relationship or not, and you're more than certain you want to be serious with matt.
you slowly sip on your glasses of champagne and share some strawberries as you savour the moment of just being together right now. the summer's early evening breeze floats past you as the sun casts a golden glow on everything, getting ready to start coming down.
you're both sipping on your second glass, the last of the champagne since you only got a small bottle, when matt downs the rest of his and stands up suddenly, walking away from the clearing. “where are you going?” you call out to him.
he was walking quickly so he made it far in a short amount of time. “i’m getting you flowers,” he shouts back. you can't help but smile at the sweet gesture. he's always doing stuff like this, always paying attention to the little things, part of what makes him such a wonderful boyfriend.
a few minutes later he comes back over and stands in front of you, holding a big, over-the-top bouquet of wildflowers. “for you,” he mumbles shyly. you gratefully accept and kiss him when he sits down. “they're beautiful, thank you.” you take a flower out and put it in your hair.
seeing this stirs an idea in matt and he moves to position himself so he's kneeling behind you. “can i braid your hair?” “yeah, i'd like that. are you putting flowers in it too?” he hums a yes in response as he moves all your hair back and divides it into three uneven sections.
after a little while of him figuring things out, with the occasional small tug and mumbled apology, the braid is finished. he starts plucking random flowers from the bouquet and puts them through the braid. he takes a picture on your phone and shows it to you, looking very proud of himself - like a small child showing off a finger painting.
you look at the screen and you can't deny, it's a messy braid and it's very uneven, almost lopsided. but it's the prettiest braid you've ever seen, all because matt did it. “you did amazing, i love it.”
he sits next to you again and you rest your head on his shoulder. his fingers interlace with yours once more as you look up. the sunset paints the sky beautiful pinks and oranges. there's a few small clouds that if you stare at hard enough, could almost look like hearts.
he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, a loving gesture as you sit in comfortable silence, wishing this day would go on forever.
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𐙚 ࣪ ˖ tags: @chrissturniolosbitch @christhopersturniolo @mattscurlygirly @fratbrochrisgf @d3axplr @junnniiieee07 @rubyjaneaxx @remussbitch @sturnpooks @ribread03 @mattsfavbitchhh @blahbel668 @asherrisrandom @55sturn @joeblzy @ivysturnss @certifiedstarrr @stvrnzwrld @strnlslut @edwardscoldhands @emely9274 @strangelife122 @loveparqdise @meatballlover10 @lovevxle @conspiracy-ash
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dc418writes · 2 days ago
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If You Can’t Stand the Heat…
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✨Pairing✨: Brendan “Mid-Size Sedan”xblack!reader
Summary🪄: Your first Christmas with your boyfriend’s parents. What could go wrong?
🚨: allusion to a deceased parent, language, pretty much all fluff💕 (aside from an overbearing mother👀)
A/N🎤: Happy New Year and belated holidays🥂✨! So clearly this did not come out when I originally planned, but I still hope yall enjoy! Also stating the other obvious in the room, for those who have seen Old were ignoring the end this character saw and in my mind he is in fact alive and well🥰 (for those who haven’t seen, sorry for the spoiler lol)
*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were found via Pinterest and Google*
“My baby boy!”
Brendan’s practically tackled by his own mother as she hurries into the brightly lit foyer hugging him tight while gently swaying back and forth. Her usual floral scent instantly takes him back to his childhood dancing around the living room and helping her in the kitchen - until his playful, mischievous ways would get the best of him that is.
“Hey ma,” he chuckles hugging her just as tight. Being away for most of the year, he admittedly missed her nearly crushing hugs.
“Cmon now Kat let the boy breathe.” Both arms attempting to carry all their luggage, his father, Devon, manages to close the door behind them using his foot. Not without needing to quickly rebalance himself from the shift of weight though. “So he can help with this luggage.”
“Oh, I got it!”
Both his parents seem to freeze at the new unfamiliar voice, quickly peeking past their son to the figure waving and moving closer. “Now who in the hell..?,” his mother thinks watching the black curls atop your head bounce with every step until you stop beside her son.
“Nah, it’s okay baby imma get it.”
And when he pecks your temple - making that sweet smile on your glossy lips brighten like the shimmering lights on the miniature Christmas tree in the corner - Devon can already see the flames and chaos swirling in his wife’s mind. “Oh lord, here we go.”
“Brendan,” although smiling herself, Katherine’s is clearly one mixed with confusion looking between the both of you, “w-who is your uh..little guest here?”
“This is my girl-,”
Everything muted after hearing that. Girlfriend? When did this happen? And why did she not know until now? Being his mother, she should’ve been the first to know! God knows what this little girl had planned up her sleeve for her innocent baby boy.
“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Katherine manages to snap out of her trance just in time to watch you move towards her with arm extended after shaking Devon’s hand. “Brendan’s told me so much about both of you.”
“Aw that’s so nice. Sadly I’ve heard nothing of you though sweetheart.” That hit you just as she expected, making your smile falter and dim as her son nervously rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Not that I wasn’t plannin’ to,” he quickly tries to rectify. “But from the interviews and studio sessions-,”
“The other week you sent me that beat you were working on. Sounds like a perfect time to me.”
Devon could read his boy just as well as his mother, and he might as well have ‘SOS’ tattooed on his forehead right about now. This ship was sinking faster than a boat made of Swiss cheese in the middle of summer, and he couldn’t just let him drown.
Quickly clearing his throat, he successfully gains everyone’s attention - for now at least, “B why don’t you uh show us around this place.”
-
Sat in the middle of the California king bed - white comforter and sheet just as pristine as fresh snow blanketing your newly washed and moisturized legs - you can’t stop replaying the events from dinner in your head. Overall you’d say it was nice, all of you talking and laughing while enjoying your homemade chicken pot pie. Brendan’s dad even complimented you saying it reminded him of something his own grandmother would’ve made.
Katherine, however, didn’t appear too impressed. About a few things besides the food really.
“It’s good sweetheart, a tad bit salty, but alright,” she curtly smiled. And maybe it was just you, but you wondered if that was just a teaser for things to come.
“Does your mom like me?,” you ask as soon as your boyfriend exits the bathroom with black, satin durag in hand.
“Course she does. Why? She say somethin?”
“No, I just…” you frustratedly sigh partly regretting bringing it up as you toy with the sterling silver chain around your wrist. Specifically the one that matched Brendan’s. “I dunno I get this feeling.”
Fingers securing the last knot, his hand reaches for yours pulling you closer into his side as he slides into bed himself. The mint from his lips prickling against your temple as he places two kisses there. “Bae everything’s fine, alright? If my ma had an issue, trust she’ll say it.”
“I don’t like her.”
Since closing the door to their hotel-like suite of a guest room, Katherine hadn’t stopped complaining and running her mouth about you.
“I bet she invited herself tryin to squeeze her way in.”
“I dunno where she got that recipe from but it ain’t all that. And you heard how she call herself decorating everything? Tuh, Ray Charles could do better.”
Devon just wanted to watch his Lakers in peace.
“Kat just give the girl a chance. You don’t even know her.”
“And I don’t want to,” she answers walking out the bathroom rubbing some sort of cream on her arms. “Brendan‘s soon gonna be over her like all the rest.”
“You never know,” her husband simply sighs, adjusting the pillow under his chin. To anyone else, it would just be a menial statement, however Katherine could sense there was something more her dear husband might be hiding.
Turning off the flatscreen and crossing her arms across her chest, Devon’s now equally as frustrated as his wife throwing his hands out with an “Aye!,” and silently wishing he snuck to the theater room while she was in the shower.
“You knew she was gonna be here didn’t you?”
“No!”
“But you knew about her,” she states pointing a signature red manicured finger.
He might as well forget about the game. She was gonna be at this all night. “Did he outright say something? No, but from what he asked I figured there was somebody.”
“Andd?,” she asks twisting her wrist, urging Devon to come out with the rest already. “What’d he ask?”
“Father son confidentiality,” he smirks holding his hands up in surrender.
“Bullshit, I carried that big headed boy for almost 10 months you better start talking Dee.”
He chuckles knowing she’d say that. “Stuff about our relationship: how I knew you were the one, being long distance, marriage-,”
“Marriage?! They just met!”
“We don’t know-,”
“Oh lord,” she gasps beginning to pace, “she’s pregnant!”
“Nah, I don’t think-,”
“That’s why he’s thinking of marriage, meanwhile jezebel thinking she’s gettin a free ride. And the baby might not even be his!”
His wife really needed to stop watching those made for tv movies. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, he can easily reach out and gently grip Katherine’s elbow guiding his worried wife to sit beside him.
“Relax alright? You gettin all worked up for potentially nothing,” he states pecking her temple.
“But-,”
“Get to know the girl, please. For the sake of Brendan.” Kat’s little huff is enough of an acceptable answer that he’s turning the tv back on hoping to finish the remainder of the game.
Katherine’s mind was already made up though, and this girl wasn’t about to mess with her baby and ruin everything he had. A mother’s intuition was never wrong, and she knew what needed to be done.
-
It had only been three days and you were sure you’d somehow been transported to hell at some point in your sleep. If it wasn’t her little comments about you, Katherine was either squeezing her way in your alone time with Brendan or finding a way to exclude you.
The movie night you and Brendan planned in the theater room when his parents were asleep? Crashed by her claiming she couldn’t sleep. The trip to a local tree farm to see all the Christmas lights that was supposed to be all four of you? She swears you told her you weren’t ‘feeling great’ before you went to the restroom, prompting them to leave you home.
“Maybe we can go again after Christmas?,” she suggested when they returned.
“Yea maybe,” you replied with your most saccharine smile similar to the one on her own lips.
With everyone still asleep upstairs, you took advantage of your alone time to bake your signature molasses cookies passed down to you from your mother. Like her, baking always brought you peace and filled you with fond memories of big laughs, messy hands, and flour in your hair and mysteriously on the ceiling.
“Momma I really need you right now,” you quietly speak to the open air as you mix your ingredients together finalizing your dough.
The sound of the hand mixer covers Katherine’s footsteps causing you to jump when you feel her presence over your shoulder.
“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you.” You really hated that nickname. Especially when it came from her mouth and would then usually come with some snide comment. “Thought you heard me when I said good mornin.”
“It’s okay and no, my mind’s uh somewhere else.”
“Yea these cookies,” she smiles watching you cutout various holiday themed shapes. “Looks like you got a good mess here too.”
Here we go. Luckily your back was towards her as she readied her coffee, giving you freedom to roll your eyes without getting caught. “Yea, I know,” you nervously chuckle. “I’m almost done though so I’ll get to them in a minute.”
“S’why you should really clean as you go. Less to do in the end.”
“True, but I get so wrapped up with-,”
“Brown and regular sugar?,” she asks noticing both containers on the counter. “They’ll be too sweet.”
Was she really trying to tell you how to make something you’ve done since you were able to walk? “No, they’ll be fine. I’ve made it plenty times before.”
“Doesn’t mean it can’t be tweaked though,” she innocently shrugs.
“Also true,” you forcibly smile feeling your skin begin to heat with frustration, “but this one is fine. It’s my mom’s recipe.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right sweetheart.” And at that, you snapped unable to take anymore. You left your mess, your tools, and dough just needing to get away before your mouth and anger made you do something you’d regret.
You didn’t even speak to Devon as you rushed past making his brows furrow not used to you in an unpleasant mood. Seeing his wife also in the kitchen - calmly drinking out of a mug - he can guess what might’ve been the cause though. “What did you do?”
“Nothin,” Katherine answers nonchalantly before dipping a spoon into the leftover dough for a taste. “Hm, not too sweet like she said. Girl a little Miss Betty Crocker.”
“You know who you actin like right?”
“I know you betta not say who I think.”
“And because you thinking it means it’s true,” he retorts. “Bein’ just like my momma.”
“Aht, take it back!,” she points her spoon placing her mug down. “That woman never liked me from the start and let me know it. Shoot I think she still don’t like me.”
“And you not doing the same thing? That girl’s been nothing but nice and respectful to you when anybody else would’ve been said something.
His words clearly have some affect how her once stubborn expression turns soft. Her previous actions and words now all she can think of reminding her of the woman she swore she’d never be like when she had kids.
“You know you wrong Kat.”
“Where you goin?,” Brendan asks watching you throw your clothes in your suitcase unzipped and wide open on the floor of his walk in closet.
“Home.”
“Home? Why you-,”
“Look I know you wanted all of us to be together for Christmas, but this ain’t working B,” you answer with watery eyes still focused on the task in front of you.
“What do you mean? Aye, stop and look at me.” Gently gripping your wrists, he manages to halt your frantic packing so you’ll meet his worried eyes turning a bluish hue. “Tell me what happened.”
“I can’t with your mom and her little comments anymore,” you quietly admit. “She clearly doesn’t like me and I’m not staying somewhere I’m not wanted.”
“You are wanted. This is my house and I say you stay, alright? My ma just…takes some getting used to. And once she warms up to you-,”
Such a momma’s boy answer. “You mean if she wants to warm up to me,” you retort slipping out of his grip to return to your packing.
“I get it,” Brendan sighs, “she can be a lot. It’s just how she is though.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to deal with or accept it for the sake of your comfort.”
“Hold up, you calling me weak now?,” he asks stepping closer to you.
Slamming your suitcase shut, your arms cross over your chest looking up at the 6’3 man in front of you not daring to stand down. “No, I’m saying you’re a loyal son, which I love. But that loyalty is putting me in an environment I don’t feel safe or protected in.” You hope his silence means he’s finally taking in your words. “So I think it’s best I leave.”
He tries once more to clutch your arm as you pass, softly calling out your name, but you move just out of reach. “I’ll text when I get to my place.”
-
At the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, Katherine quickly stands to see you with your suitcase and Brendan on your heels trying to get your attention.
“Bae I’ll handle it, just stay. Please,” he whispers.
“My Uber’s already on the way,” you reply sniffling.
“You can’t leave!,” she states making you pause just as the both of you finish your decent. One look at your reddened, tired eyes from crying and she can feel her heart break knowing she was the cause. “Listen I-,”
“Ma I don’t know what the problem is, but you need to relax,” Brendan interrupts standing in between the two most important women in his life.
“Brendan-,”
“Look I love you ma, but I can’t have you mistreating the other woman I love.” His head turns towards you - twists swishing back and forth - so you can see the sincerity and deep love behind those hypnotizing eyes. Their intensity making you breath catch in your throat and more tears ready to run. “My future wife and mother of my kids.
Even Katherine’s ready to sob at her son’s words. Anyone could see the love between you two, and at the end of the day she knew you were good for Brendan - bringing out the best in him and making him happier than she’s seen in a while - but her protective, mothering nature just couldn’t accept she might not be needed anymore.
“Thank you,” you mouth reaching for his hand to peck his knuckles.
“So whatever issue you got, handle it now or else don’t worry about coming back,” Brendan finishes with you under his arm.
“Excuse me?,” Katherine asks with an amused tilt to her lips and hands on her hips. He could feel everyone looking at him as if he’d lost his mind with that last statement, and while it felt good he admittedly might’ve gone too far.
“R-Respectfully I mean,” he quickly corrects.
“I’ll let it slide this time,” she says jokingly smacking his shoulder. “You’re right though. This whole trip I haven’t given your lovely girlfriend a chance and I’m sorry. I’ve had that happen to me and know how much it hurts, so I should’ve known better. That mama bear decided to rear her head and got the best of me.
She sighs wiping away the couple tears that managed to fall on her cheeks, “You two really do make a beautiful couple and I’m glad my boy met someone truly good for him. I’m so sorry again and know it’ll take some time, but hope you can eventually forgive me.”
“Thank you for apologizing,” you softly smile, “and hey, can’t have the holidays without some drama right?”
“I guess not,” she giggles along with Brendan and Devon. “But from here on out no more.”
Holding out her arms, she’s a bit surprised when you immediately accept her hug. Both of you holding each other tight as if the morning’s earlier events never happened. “To new beginnings and starting over.”
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morchilluv · 15 hours ago
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Ghosts From the Past - Cho Hyun-Ju x Kim Young-Mi
Warnings: Angst, hints of drug use, smut!!! pre full transition, blow-job, throat-fucking hehe, cunnilingus
Synopsis: Cho Hyun-Ju and Kim Young-Mi met during the games. After getting out, they both lost touch with each other. But soon found each other once again through a support group for the survivors.
A/N: This was a request that I genuinely enjoyed writing. I wasn’t sure whether to do a pre or post full transition, so I might do both;) but it’s not for sure. Let me know if you would like that!
P.S: Sorry if the beginning seems like a lot.. I got too into it. But I added a line where things start to heat up if you would like to just jump right into it! I tried to make the smut equally as long:)
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ੈ✩‧₊˚
Cho Hyun-Ju and Kim Young-Mi hadn’t known the other existed until the games. In the midst of that brutal, unforgiving world, they’d formed a bond—stronger than either of them had expected. But once the chaos was over, they lost touch. It wasn’t because they wanted to, but because they needed to, for their own sanity. In the aftermath, each had chosen to think with their heads instead of their hearts.
Hyun-Ju buried the memories of the games, and above all, she pushed Young-Mi to the back of her mind. There were too many things left unsaid between them, too many words and actions she regretted. Every time the urge to reach out flickered, the weight of their shared past held her back—the lies, the betrayals, the moments they’d never been able to confront. How could she face Young-Mi, knowing everything they had been through, without it all coming crashing down?
Young-Mi had waited. And waited. Weeks passed, but Hyun-Ju’s silence never broke. In the stillness, she began to wonder if maybe she had just been a ghost in Hyun-Ju’s life. Perhaps the other woman had found a way to move on without her, had found peace in leaving the past behind. After all, wasn’t Hyun-Ju always the stronger one? The one who had it together, the one who didn’t need anyone else to survive?
The circle of chairs was small but comforting. Hyun-Ju settled into her seat, forcing herself to focus on the facilitator. She tried to avoid looking around, though she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. The others were speaking—some sharing their feelings, others recounting their daily struggles since they’d escaped the games. But her mind was elsewhere.
The door opened softly, and the quiet shuffle of footsteps cut through her concentration. Hyun-Ju froze, instinctively turning her head. And there, standing in the doorway, was Kim Young-Mi.
Their eyes met for a split second. It was as if time stopped—an overwhelming mixture of surprise, confusion, and the faintest hint of relief washed over Hyun-Ju. Young-Mi looked just as startled, her gaze flicking briefly to the floor before she took a seat across from Hyun-Ju. Neither of them spoke. The room felt smaller.
The facilitator, a woman in her forties with soft eyes and a soothing voice, smiled warmly, her expression not unlike that of a mother. "I know it's hard, but welcome. This is a safe space. We’re all here to listen and support one another. Who would like to share first today?"
Hyun-Ju tried to focus on the group—on the faces of strangers who, like her, had lived through the hell of the games. But her mind kept drifting back to Young-Mi. Back to when she had tried—tried so hard—to help her, only to be pushed away.
After a moment, the facilitator turned to Hyun-Ju, her eyes gentle. "How about you, Cho Hyun-Ju? Would you like to share anything today?"
Hyun-Ju’s throat tightened. It had been so long since she had let herself speak about what had happened. She looked at Young-Mi for a moment, but quickly turned her gaze back down to her lap.
"I’m… I’m still trying to figure out what to say," she said, her voice low and hoarse. "Some days, I feel like I’m drowning in the past. I know I shouldn’t, but I keep thinking about what happened… What we went through. And I feel like I failed. Like I failed to help someone who needed me." She paused, swallowing back the bitterness that surged in her throat. "I tried, you know? I tried so hard to help someone I thought I could save. But they didn’t want my help. And maybe… maybe I should have seen that sooner."
Her eyes flicked briefly toward Young-Mi, who was staring down at the floor, her fingers clenched tightly around the edge of her chair. The silence that followed was deafening.
The facilitator nodded gently, recognizing the unspoken pain. “Sometimes, when we try to help someone, it feels like they don’t want us, or like they’re pushing us away. But the truth is, sometimes it’s not about us. It’s about them, and what they’re going through. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
Finally, it was Young-Mi’s turn. Her voice was calm when she spoke, but there was a tremor beneath it, like she was struggling to keep it together.
"I’m… Kim Young-Mi," she began, her gaze flickering to Hyun-Ju for just a moment, before looking down. "I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say. It’s hard for me to talk about the things I’ve done. The choices I made just to stay alive… and the people I left behind. I thought about reaching out after we got out, but I was afraid I’d just make things worse. And I guess… I guess I didn’t want to admit that I still needed help."
The vulnerability in Young-Mi’s voice made Hyun-Ju’s heart ache. She wanted to reach out, to say something—anything—to make her feel less alone. But her throat closed up again, the words stuck inside. The facilitator offered a soft nod. "Thank you, Young-Mi. That’s a powerful admission. It’s not easy to acknowledge how much we need help, even when we think we’re doing okay."
As the meeting came to a close, the facilitator asked everyone to stay if they wanted to talk more, or just to hang around for support. Hyun-Ju stayed seated for a long moment, unsure of whether she was ready to face the ghosts of the past—especially the ones standing so close.
Young-Mi was motionless near the door, her posture stiff as though she were fighting some internal battle of her own. Hyun-Ju could tell she was waiting for something—for Hyun-Ju to leave, for her to approach, or maybe for the world to give them both some space. But whatever it was, Hyun-Ju wasn’t sure she was ready for it.
Hyun-Ju looked up, finding Young-Mi’s gaze for the briefest of moments. That look, that flicker of recognition, was enough to make her blood run cold. But something in it stopped her from leaving. Neither of them were walking away this time.
For a long moment, Hyun-Ju hesitated, torn between walking out and facing what had always been left unsaid. Then, almost reluctantly, she rose to her feet, her movements stiff and careful as if she were preparing for a battle she wasn’t sure she’d win.
The air felt different now, charged and thick with old wounds.
“You wanted to talk?” Hyun-Ju’s voice was raw, quieter than she intended, her breath catching as she spoke. She couldn’t quite look her in the eye just yet, but she knew Young-Mi heard her. There was no hiding anymore.
Young-Mi didn’t answer immediately, but after a long moment of hesitation, she stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “I—" Her voice faltered, the words catching in her throat. She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes flitting nervously around the room as if she could find some escape.
Hyun-Ju's patience was wearing thin. I’m not running from this, she thought, trying to steady herself. “What’s the point of standing here if you don’t even have the words?” she asked, her tone harder now.
Young-Mi flinched at the bite in Hyun-Ju’s voice but didn’t back away. She looked up, meeting Hyun-Ju’s gaze this time, though her eyes were filled with something she couldn’t quite place—regret? Guilt? Fear? It made Young Mi’s chest ache all over again.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Young-Mi whispered, her voice small, vulnerable in a way that felt unfamiliar. “I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me.”
The words stung, and Hyun-Ju clenched her jaw. Of course she didn’t want to talk to her. She hadn’t wanted to. But she couldn’t pretend it didn’t matter. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t still hurting.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Hyun-Ju shot back, her voice trembling despite herself. “Because you couldn’t even be honest with me?” The sharpness of her words felt almost like a relief, like the anger and hurt had finally found an outlet. “You pushed me away. Every time I tried to reach out, you were gone. And I—" Her voice cracked, and for a second, she couldn’t continue. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the old pain or because of the truth she hadn’t dared to speak before.
Young-Mi stepped closer, her expression softening slightly. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she reached out, her hand trembling as if she wasn’t sure if she had the right to touch. The gap between them was barely an inch now, but the silence felt like an ocean.
“Hyun-Ju…” Her voice was broken, as though the walls she had built around herself were starting to crumble, piece by piece. “I didn’t… I didn’t know how to let you in. I was too scared of… of everything I was and everything I wasn’t. After we lost touch, I got sober. I didn't want to lose anyone how I lost you. I didn’t deserve you,” Young-Mi whispered, her words so soft it felt like a confession.
Hyun-Ju closed her eyes for a moment, the flood of emotions too much to bear. She wanted to scream, to push her away, but a deeper part of her, one that was still fighting for something she couldn’t quite name, kept her still. “And I didn’t deserve to be lied to, Young-Mi,” she whispered back, her voice cracking. “I wanted to help you. I tried to. But you wouldn’t let me.”
The words hung in the air between them, a bridge to everything unsaid. Hyun-Ju’s heart was racing. There was no going back now.
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As the room cleared out, the silence between them stretched, like they were caught in some invisible web. Hyun-Ju didn't know if it was the vulnerability in Young-Mi's eyes or the depth of the silence between them, but suddenly, she wasn't sure she could stand back anymore.
Without thinking, her hands reached for Young-Mi, pulling her into a kiss—slow at first, hesitant, as they were both afraid that the other might pull away. But it didn't last. Young-Mi's lips moved against hers, deepening the kiss, and at that exact moment, the world around them disappeared.
Hyun-Ju pulled back for a split second, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Hyun-Ju didn’t want to freak her out or make her uncomfortable. "Are you sure?"
Young-Mi's eyes were wild with desire. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sure."
The kiss grew harder, fiercer, as Hyun-Ju slid her hands up to grip the back of Young-Mi's neck, pulling her deeper.
"God..." Hyun-Ju muttered, her voice thick with desire. "I've missed you."
Young-Mi didn't reply. Instead, she kissed her with more fierceness that left no room for doubt. She needed her. Young-Mi pulled away for a split second to remove both her and Hyun-Ju's shirt. Quickly pulling back to kiss her once again.
Hyun-Ju's hand wasted no time in unclasping Young-Mi's bra. Her hands massaged Young-Mi's breasts. Pinching and playing with her nipples. Young-Mi's soft moans could be heard throughout the small room.
Young-Mi started trailing kisses down Hyun-Ju's neck. Unclasping her bra as well. Making sure to pay attention to both her breasts as she started trailing down further. Softly leaving kisses all over Hyun-Ju's stomach and stopping right above her pubic bone. Young-Mi looked up at her, silently asking for permission. Hyun-Ju—entranced by the girl kneeling before her—immediately nodded.
Young-Mi quickly unbuttoned Hyun-Ju's jeans and pulled them down along with her undergarments. Her hand flew to the base of her cock, while the other played with her balls. Young-Mi licked a long stripe of Hyun-Ju's cock. Leaving Hyun-Ju with goosebumps and even more desire. Young-Mi sucked on her tip and slowly made her way lower, taking all of Hyun-Ju's dick in her mouth. As she started bobbing her head, Hyun-Ju tangled her hands in Young-Mi's hair and started thrusting into her mouth.
She tried her hardest not to gag as she let Hyun-Ju fuck her throat.
"You look so pretty taking my dick, Yeobo." Hyun-Ju's moans bounced off the walls. She was close to her climax but swiftly pulled Young-Mi away from her and stood her up.
"What are y—," Hyun-Ju cut Young-Mi off with a kiss. Switching roles, Hyun-Ju left trails of small kisses on Young-Mi's body. The only difference was that Hyun-Ju seemed more desperate and was faster to get to the area where Young-Mi wanted her most.
"Can I?" Hyun-Ju questioned. Though she had known the answer by now, she still needed the consent. Young-Mi nodded softly. "Use your words, Young-Mi. Or did I fuck your throat too hard?" Her voice had a darker, cockier tone.
Young-Mi couldn't help but feel nervous at her sudden change in tone. "Yeah," She breathed. "I mean— yeah, you can."
Hyun-Ju smirked as she undressed Young-Mi. After getting her completely naked, Hyun-Ju lifted Young-Mi’s right leg and rested it on her left shoulder, getting a perfect view of her cunt. Young-Min looked down at her, mesmerized.
None of them ever thought they’d be in this position. They’d unquestionably daydreamed about it before, but never truly expected their fantasies to become real. Frankly, it was a dream come true.
Hyun-Ju’s hands gripped Young-Mi’s thighs tightly as she looked at her with an intense, hungry gaze. Without a word, she buried her face between her legs, her tongue delving deep into her pussy, eating her out with a fervor that leaves her gasping and trembling. She continued to devour her pussy. Hyun-Ju’s tongue swirled around her clit as she sucked and licked, driving Young-Mi wild with pleasure.
She pulled her closer to her face as she ate her out even more aggressively. She can feel Young-Mi getting close, so she stops briefly, looking up at her with her face dripping with Young-Mi’s juices.
She lifted Young-Mi up and laid her on a random table, spreading her legs wide as Hyun-Ju stands between them. Her face delved back in between Young-Mi’s legs. Her tongue thrusted deep inside Young-Mi as she sucked hard on her clit. She continued eating her out mercilessly, not stopping until she screamed in ecstasy, her whole body shaking as she came hard on Hyun-Ju’s face.
Hyun Ju stands up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked down at Young-Mi with a smug grin. Hyun-Ju takes ahold of her red throbbing cock and strokes it a few times before rubbing it up and down her pussy.
“Are you sure?” Hyun-Ju asked one last time. The question didn’t linger in the air for too long before Young-Mi consented.
“I’m sure. But… Can you be gentle at first? Please?” Young-Mi’s soft voice warmed Hyun-Ju’s heart.
Hyun-Ju slowly lowered herself onto Young-Mi, filling her up inch by inch as she looked into her eyes. She started to move gently, her hips rolling into Young-Mi’s as she kissed her softly. "Like this?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Am I being gentle enough?"
Young-Mi only being able to hum and softly moan Hyun-Ju’s name.
Hyun-Ju continued to kiss her softly as she started to pick up pace, her gentle thrusts turning into a slow and sensual rhythm. She pulled out almost completely before pushing back in, stretching Young-Mi and filling her up in the most delicious way.
"Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock.”
Young-Mi was never exactly good at dirty talk. Though she always loved it, she was never able to say the right things. So at this moment, all she was able to do was whimper, moan and squirm beneath Hyun-Ju.
Hyun-Ju’s hands moved to Young-Mi’s breasts, squeezing them gently as she continued her slow pace.
"Your tits feel amazing in my hands...” She kissed her neck softly. "Can you feel how deep I am inside you?” Hyun-Ju whispered against her ear "Your pussy is gripping me so perfectly..."
She started to play with her nipples, rolling them between her fingers as she thrusts into her. "I love how responsive your body is...” She kissed Young-Mi’s collarbone. "The way your tits bounce with each gentle thrust, the way your pussy squeezes my cock... it's all so fucking perfect.” Hyun Ju couldn’t help but let out quiet moans. A sound that was like music to Young-Mi’s ear.
“Your dick feels so good, Hyun-Ju.” Young-Mi said lowly. “Harder. Please, Hyun-Ju. Harder.”
“Goddamn...” Hyun-Ju began moving in controlled, powerful strokes, the desk creaking slightly underneath them.
“Oh fuck.” Young-Mi moaned. “Oh my God.” She gasped. Hyun-Ju’s cock felt so good inside her. Is this what they’ve been missing the whole time?
Hyun-Ju’s eyes rolled back in her head as she fucked her mercilessly, her balls slapping against Young-Mi’s ass with each powerful thrust. She reached between Young-Mi’s legs, her fingers finding her clit once more, rubbing it in fast, rough circles.
Young-Mi’s body arched as the pleasure was starting to become too much for her. Her head was spinning and she was suddenly very desperate for her release.
Feeling her walls tighten around her cock, Hyun-Ju knows Young-Mi’s close. She bites down on her shoulder, sucking hard to leave a mark as she fucked her even harder, her movements becoming erratic and desperate. “Come on, baby. Squeeze my fucking cock.”
Both of them were now a hot moaning mess, desperately chasing the high that had become a long, distant friend.
With one final, brutal thrust, Hyun-Ju buries herself inside Young-Mi, her cock pulsing as she unloads a massive load deep within her pussy.
As soon as Hyun-Ju cums, Young-Mi does as well. Whimpering loudly, she sat up to lean her body against Hyun Ju’s. Hyun-Ju held her in place, her arms wrapped around Young-Mi’s waist as she rode out her orgasm, filling Young-Mi to the brim with her hot seed.
Young-Mi breathed loudly. Her body solemnly rested on Hyun-Ju’s body, as if it completely relied on her for support.
Hyun-Ju stayed buried inside her, her cock twitching with the last few spurts of cum. She peppers soft kisses along Young-Mi’s neck and shoulder, a stark contrast to the rough fucking mere moments ago. Pulling back slightly, she meets Young-Mi’s gaze, her eyes still dark with lingering desire.
Hyun-Ju pulls out slowly, her cum dripping out of Young-Mi’s well-fucked pussy.
“You’re so beautiful. You’re everything to me. I don’t want to lose you again, Hyun-Ju. Please promise me you’ll never leave,” Young-Mi rested her hands on Hyun-Ju’s cheeks, tears starting to form in her eyes.
“I promise, Young-Mi. I’ll never leave you. I wouldn’t want to lose you all over again,” Hyun-Ju’s voice was soft and delicate. It comforted Young-Mi. It made her feel safe. “Let’s get cleaned up,” She smiled.
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cautotelic · 22 hours ago
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Chapter 4: The Fall
Ambessa Medarda x Reader
Synopsis: When you get taken away from your home land and thrown into the palace of the infamous warlord, will things be as bad as they first seemed?
first tag-list!!: @trexsuit @lez-zuha @pearldaisy
A/N: don't mind me just pulling at your heart strings... again :))
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I walk down the corridor, my steps echoing off the walls as I enter the training arena. All the warriors are rushing around getting weapons and putting on their battle armor. I see Ambessa donning hers. She momentarily glances up at me, expressionless before turning to one of her soldiers. Someone steps in front of me.
“What’s going on? Where is everyone going?” I ask as I try to get around her.
Wherever I move, the girl moves to get in my way. She looks at me. “I can’t tell you anything, ma’am. I’ve been ordered not to.”
“Like hell you aren’t, what's going on?” My voice raises on its own accord grabbing the attention of a few of the warriors surrounding us. 
In just a few seconds Ambessa pushes her way through the crowd, grabbing my arm and pulling me from the crowd. We stand outside in the corridor. 
I cross my arms over my chest. “What is going on?”
“We're going to battle,” she says like it’s nothing.
“With who?”
She huffs annoyed and irritated. “With your father.”
My heart sinks. Although I don’t particularly care for my father, I know a lot of bloodshed will come from this battle, innocent lives lost. “Is this because of what happened in the library last week? If you're upset with me, be upset with me. But don’t send your soldiers out to get slaughtered,” I plead.
She narrows her eyes at me. “You doubt my army?”
I sigh. “You don’t understand, they,” I say motioning to the warriors. “Are not ready for the sheer magnitude of magic that you are throwing them into. They can train with me all day and night and never know the full extent of it.”
It’s clear that my words go in one ear and out the other. She scoffs and goes to walk past me and I get in her way. “Ambessa, please.”
“I have to defend Noxus. Get out of my way,” she says harshly.
She tries to push past me again but I hold her at arm's length. “You’re going to get yourself killed and you can’t defend Noxus if you’re dead. So I urge you to reconsider,” I assert. Something in me bubbles up, something I’ve repressed for so long it aches.
She lifts her head. “I have to go,” she murmurs.
Her hand comes up and wipes a tear that I didn’t know I had shed as she cups my chin in her hand. I pull away from her touch. She opens her mouth to say something.
“General, we’re ready to depart,” one of the soldiers announces from behind me. Just as quickly as it was there, the soft, tenderness is gone from Ambessa as she steps back into her General role.
She looks down at me one last time. “Good, the faster we get there the faster we get to come home,” she says as she passes me. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was keeping. My back hits the wall behind me, I slide down as I stare at the wall across from me. Lost.
•••
“When you attack your opponent, you need to be quick and quiet. So absolutely-”
“No giggling,” the children say in unison as they sit on the training mats. 
I nod, pleased. “Exactly. Man you guys are quick learners,” I praise, my hands resting on my staff. 
One of the younger children of the group comes to me and tugs at my pant leg. I pick her up and rest her on my hip. “What do you need, miss ma’am?” I ask with a warm smile.
The little girl giggles and points at my hands. “Do the thing,” she whispers. Her whispering isn’t that good and the rest of the children hear what she says and join in, urging me to use my magic.
With the little girl still in my arms I kneel down on the mats. “Fine, fine,” I chuckle. I flick my hand and a newt appears on the mats in front of the children. A series of ‘awe’s’ comes from them as the newt rolls over and jumps around, even at times jumping into the children's laps. Seeing the children enjoy the power I was gifted and not be afraid of me, heals something in me, an old wound not forgotten. 
Someone clears their throat by the door of the small training area, Mana. “Ma’am, it’s time to go,” she informs with a sorry smile.
I get up from the floor and the children look at me sadly. “Now you guys don’t get into too much trouble, alright? I’ll see you all on Wednesday next week.” They all get up and give me a big hug before Mana and I walk out of the small building.
Stepping outside I shiver before donning my coat as Mana and I walk back to the palace. “Ma’am that is the 3rd time this week that I’ve found you at the children's training center,” she notes worriedly.
It’s been nearly a month since Ambessa and her forces left for battle and I’m worried to say the least. For the first week or so nobody would tell me anything other than ‘they’re alive’ and now I don’t even get that. 
I turn to Mana. “It helps distract me. I feel… useful.”
She only smiles. On our way back to the palace we stop and buy some fresh fruit and a light snack. 
I help Mana prepare dinner and we eat together in the kitchen. Once I’m done eating I head off to bed.
•••
A loud bell startles me from my sleep. Getting up I make my way out of my room and into the hallway. I follow the noise of rushing footsteps and loud voices to the training arena. The doors leading outside are wide open as soldiers rush in from the cold. They settle down on the mats and await medical treatment from the physicians on standby. 
My eyes flutter across the room going from one person to the next unknowingly looking for someone. My heart starts to pound as my search comes up empty. I see Rictus being helped in by another soldier and that’s confirmation enough.
If he's alive, she's alive. He wouldn’t let her die.
I’m pushed out of the area by the physicians telling me that I can’t be in there right now. Right before the doors of the arena close I look one more time.
The walk back to my room is filled with dread.
Did she really go out there and get herself killed? I hope she is alive so I can kill her myself.
I slip into my room and close the door before turning around and freezing. 
Ambessa stands in my room silent as she quietly takes me in from head to toe. “Hi,” she says softly as if talking to a wild dog, waiting for me to bite.
I look at her, really look at her. Her eyes are soft but her body is battered. A small cut is seen on her cheekbone and by the way she’s holding her side, she has a big injury.
“Why didn’t you go to the physicians to get patched up?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly.
She looks down at herself. “It’s nothing. I wanted to come see you.” She makes a move to come near me and I step back. “You're angry.”
I don’t reply to her comment. “And you're filthy, take a shower,” I say as I go to my bedside table, not sparing her a glance.
I hear her sigh before hearing heavy footsteps and the bathroom door close shut. Exiting the room I walk the short distance to her bedroom and get her some clothes to dress into before heading back. When I walk in she’s still in the shower so I open the door to the bathroom and place the clothes on the counter.
I rummaged under the sink for the first aid kit I’d taken from the medical wing, back from when I didn’t trust anyone here. As I place it on the counter the water to the shower shuts off. Without looking I hand Ambessa something to cover her chest, underwear, and cover shorts. Without complaint she gets dressed.
“When you’re done sit down on the edge of the tub,” I say as I finish gathering all the supplies I need.
With a deep breath I stand up and turn to walk towards her, her eyes follow me. When I come to stand in front of her I sigh and look her over. There’s not many injuries but it’s enough to be concerned. I shake my head and get started.
Slowly and attentively I work on patching her stomach up, removing any dirt and scrap metal. Ambessa doesn’t make a sound, the only way I know she’s in some kind of pain is her stomach tensing and relaxing. I’m focused as I work.
Once her stomach is bandaged I begin working on the smaller cuts that litter her arms and legs before moving to the one on her face. I inspect the cut, turning her head from side to side, my thumb absentmindedly rubbing over her other cheek. I pull away and get the iodine to clean it up.
“Say something,” she mutters. I ignore her and move to put the solution on her wound and she grabs my hand. I shut my eyes and take a breath before looking down at her.
“What exactly do you want me to say, General?” I spit out bitterly.
My tone clearly surprises her and she looks at me sternly. “Watch your tone.”
I scoff out a laugh. “Watch my tone? No, how about you watch yours, you…” I stop myself from continuing, not wanting to say anything I’ll regret. Ripping my hand from her grip I finish patching up her cheek before turning to put my stuff away. 
I feel her eyes burning into my back but I don’t spare her a glance. I wash my hands scrubbing more than I should and I don’t notice my hands going raw, beginning to burn until much larger hands come from behind me and pull my hands away from each other.
I huff, hanging my head as I feel Ambessa’s sturdy frame behind me. “You could have died,” I mutter as I remove myself from her, walking into my room. She follows behind going to sit on my bed.
“But I’m here now, alive and well,” she admits nonchalantly.
I look at her in disbelief and shake my head. “You call that big gash on your side ‘alive and well’?”
Her eyes trace my face, taking in every detail. “Come here,” she says.
“No, you can’t just brush that kind of thing off like that you could have-“
“Stop being stubborn and come over here. Now,” she orders, her voice growing stern.
I stare at her for a second, challenging her. She clicks her tongue and tilts her head towards me, her eyebrow quirked up. “Don’t make me come over there and get you, child.”
I roll my tongue on the inside of my cheek, huffing before walking over to her. I stop a little bit away from her and she grumbles something under her breath before hooking her finger into the waistband of my pants and pulling me to stand between her legs. I cross my arms as she looks up at me, her hand moves to my waist, her thumb rubbing small circles into the exposed skin.
I don’t look at her as she speaks but she moves to try to find my gaze. She takes my hand, grasping it in hers as she guides my hand to her body. Placing my hand on her chest she holds it there with her own. I feel her heart beating, strong and unmoving, undoubtedly her. 
She gently turns my face to look at her. “See? I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere…”
My facade drops for a split second as I let myself feel what I’ve been bottling up for months before I come to my senses. I pull my hand away from her. “You should get some rest,” I say quietly as I walk into the bathroom to retrieve her clothes. 
When I come back I hand the clothes to Ambessa and she takes them before setting them on the bed beside her. I huff and run my hand down my face. “Put the clothes on.”
She sighs. “I won’t apologize for leaving, it needed to be done and has been a long time coming.”
I huff a laugh and look down at the floor. “And you say I’m the stubborn one…” I mutter under my breath. I walk towards the door opening it. “Get some rest,” I finalize quietly before slipping out of my room, leaving Ambessa.
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todd-queen · 2 years ago
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"Mizzen walked with a limp, but he would still outmatch most of the remaining tributes if it came to a fight. Coriolanus wondered if, in the end, it would all come down to Coral and Mizzen deciding which District 4 tribute took home the crown."
(pg. 295)
you guys I am losing it over Suzanne and the way she just flawlessly parallels EVERYTHING in TBoSaS to the original Hunger Games. i just.. all the little nuances and foreshadowing that Snow is so oblivious to. he's just thinking things guys, he has no clue of the bigger picture. but we do!!! ahhhh!!!!!!
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nezuscribe · 2 months ago
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it's that same summer when you're at the gojo summer estate, the one near the sea. you're still teens, long before gojo became arranged!gojo.
your last encounter with gojo was something you brushed off. but gojo couldn't stop thinking about you. you were this puzzle he didn't know how to figure out. this war map that no matter how long he looked at it, none of his past strategies were making sense.
but the two of you go about your usual routine. he's with his friends, and you stick to yourself.
or at least you tried to.
gojo's mother, the lady of the gojo family, was an earnest and strict woman. everybody knew that she wasn't one for games or jokes. she rarely smiled and rarely, rarely, laughed. you, along with all the other kids, knew to bow extra low whenever greeting her. she seemed to carry more power than her husband, but she didn't seem to find an issue with that.
but for a woman who was so keen on tradition, she seemed to care about you a lot more than the other children.
when she spoke to you, her eyes softened. her voice was gentler, more caring. your sisters especially grew annoyed at this, trying to butter up to her even more, but she seemed to harbor this sort of kindness only towards you.
you didn't question this either. it must be some form of pity, but you appreciated it nonetheless. sometimes you pretended like she was your actual mom, but then you quickly shook that thought away, chiding yourself for thinking something so childish.
this sort of gentleness she had with you turned into her trying to include you in things. some days it would be having tea with you when the other adults were having tea somewhere else, or sometimes she'd plan a little dinner with you where you could get dressed up and act like a lady.
tonight, however, she seemed to think that the best way she could include you was to include you in the group of the other kids, a gentle and guiding hand on your protesting back.
"really, i like the library," you insist, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. you had been inside the library for so many hours that you could blink and those high walls filled with books would be seared into your vision.
"nonsense," she tells you, her blue eyes and white hair looking down at your form as she waves it off, "the kids are outside near the fire. they'd be delighted to have you."
you cringe a little bit, wondering if she was just as daft as her son.
but she had found you near the fireplace, trying to stick its warmth as you hunched over yet another book. she decided that enough was enough, you should be out with the other kids.
so you couldn't say much to the woman who was hosting your family to argue, letting her lead you outside the grand patio and into the overbearing fields that led out to the sea, you soon saw the fire crackling away, the sound of laughter filling your ears.
some of the kids who were facing the two of you nudged the other ones to turn around, looks of confusion on their faces as the noblest lady of the land led a quivering you closer to them.
the usual look of caring she had whenever she was with you melted away, turning to something icy as the two of you neared the group. her hand on your back was still present, but you wished that it could somehow push you deep into the ground where you could hide forever.
her eyes looked over the group until they fell on her son, gojo, and narrowed.
everybody's eyes bounced from you over to her.
"there should be room for one more, yes?" she asks, and all the kids quickly nod, moving over on the logs that they had created into makeshift seats as they scrambled to make space for you.
you wondered what it was like to command such respect from people, what it must be like to have people actually listen to you.
she nudges you forward a little bit and you glance up at her one more time, a sort of useless plea as she encourages you to sit down.
you take a deep breath, offering them all an apologetic smile as you slowly sit on a log, your legs cramming together to make yourself seem as small as possible.
you watched as she walked back through the patio, talking to a maid as she motioned over to your group, saying something you couldn't make out, and you looked back to the other kids, the ones you had barely spoken a couple words to, and wince.
"sorry," you say slowly, your hands fidgeting non-stop in your lap as you laugh awkwardly, wishing you could just drop dead.
you can see your sisters seething in the corner, rolling their eyes as they sneer. the other kids nod at you just as tensely, and you wonder how disrespectful it would be if you just went back inside.
you feel a pair of eyes searing in the side of your face, and you look slightly to your right to see gojo staring at you, his eyes slightly squinting, just as his mother did.
you swallow thickly, picking at your nails as you send him a small smile before looking back down at your lap.
you could still feel him looking at you, but you chose to ignore it.
gojo doesn't really know why his mother liked you so much, but he never truly questioned her. she treated you with a tenderness he never saw her treat anybody (aside from him) with. he sometimes saw the two of you sharing tea with each other, other times hearing her laugh whenever you cracked a joke. something unusual for both of you.
his eyes look at your face, taking in the way you duck your head to seem smaller than you are. your eyes avert any contact, teeth gnawing on your already chewed-up lips. gojo looks at your hands, at the way you pick at your nails. he looks at your dress and sees the way the seams are fraying, the initial shape of the dress looking a little bit unfitting on you. almost as if it wasn't made for you specifically. his eyes narrow in more as he pieces it together. the dress is a hand-me-down from your older sister. not because your family couldn't afford a new dress, of course not, but to remind you of your place.
he feels a sting in his chest.
slowly the conversation with the group goes back to usual, the other kids pretending that you weren't there. gojo could feel the arms of one of the girls latched around his, her body pressing into his side as she tried to get closer to him. he wanted to shove her away, but didn't want to make a scene right now.
one of the girl shifted the talk to the topic of couples, talking about how she saw this husband and wife in town the other day who seemed to actually like each other.
one of your sisters, mei, snorts, shaking her head at the idea.
"us girls either marry an old man or a slightly older one," her eyes look over to you, "there's no in-between."
everybody grimaces at that, her other sister, yume, shoving her shoulder roughly at the crude statement.
"what?" mei scoffs, sitting back up as she nudges her chin to you, "she is."
yume gives her a warning look, one that's clearly saying she's saying too much, but mei doesn't seem to care much. everybody stirs, their heads craning with the thrill of gossip.
gojo looks at you and wants to see what you think about all this, but you're so far in your own world that you don't notice the commotion that seems to be directed at you.
mei calls your name, trying to grab your attention, and your head shoots up, brows furrowed to see who needs you.
"right?" she asks, knowing you don't know the answer.
you look around again, wondering if she was just trying to be funny.
"what?" you ask finally.
"you have to marry someone older, yeah?" mei presses, her eyes gleaming as your confusion melts away into one of embarrassment, looking at yume to see if mei was really serious.
of your two sisters, mei was always the mischievous one, if you could even call her cruelty that.
gojo sits up slightly, his brows scrunching up together a little bit at the mention of this. nobody had heard of any marriage offers, especially this early. you were still underage. who...?
you scratch at your neck, heat rising to your cheeks at the sudden attention on you.
"it was just an offer," you say through clenched teeth, shooting mei a look as she just smiles smugly. she knew she'd never have to deal with this.
"who?" one of the guys asks.
"nobody," you say quickly, waving it off as you rub a hand over your face, wondering if you threw yourself on the fire if that would help.
"naoya!" mei says instantly, your eyes widening as she reveals this very secret thing that even your father was trying to keep hushed away. you feel your stomach drop, eyes stinging in embarrassment as gasps echo around the group.
"isn't he...?" one of the girls tries to do the math, seeing how much older he already is.
"i heard he wants children," another girl adds, giving you a look of attempted sympathy but it just looks like a wince, "like, a lot of children."
you shut your eyes, rubbing at your aching forehead. you look briefly at gojo, only to see him looking incredulously at you. he's the only one who doesn't seem to be talking in a shocked or excited tone.
everybody gets excited about a terrible marriage offer when it's not them who have to offer themselves up.
he's studying you, seeming to be the only one who sees the way your chest is heaving, as if you're struggling to breathe. or the glossy look in your eyes, the way you dart them away so nobody can see. gojo looks over at mei, at the way she looks satisfied for delivering her piece of gossip for the night,
at your expense.
he doesn't know why he feels the way he does, or why he drags the girls arm away from him as he stands up, shrugging his coat over his frame as everybody suddenly looks at him.
but he's only looking at you.
"i forgot to give you your blanket from last week." he says simply, his voice heavy and coarse, as if he hadn't used it in a while, "come with me,"
well, he never said he was good at lying.
but he puts a steady arm on your shoulder, helping you stand up as you shoot him a confused look, letting him lead you away as the silence behind you becomes defeating.
you wipe at your nose, sniffling silently as he leads you through the grassy field.
he glances down at you. this is the second time the two of you have been alone, and the first time he's ever seen you on the verge of tears.
"thank you," you murmur thickly, rubbing at your eyes with your palms as you laugh wetly, "she wasn't supposed to say..." you trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment.
gojo guides you up the porch, behind a long marble pillar where the two of you are away from the other's curious stares.
he's never been good at comforting people, but he's never wanted to more than now.
"she's right, though," you say through a stutter, arms crossing at your chest as if that's what gojo was thinking about, "naoya, he-" you can't finish the sentence, the reality of it too heavy for you.
naoya proposed a month ago. a marriage offer for when you turn of age. he was desperate to find a wife, but not too many women were desperate to make him their husband. but your father needed the alliance, and your father's wife needed you away, so they swiftly agreed to it.
gojo's hand still hasn't left your shoulder, and he gives it a small squeeze.
"i'm sorry about this," you motion to yourself, laughing humorleslsy, "i didn't mean to...gods, i just...i don't want to be his w-wife," you admit quietly, shaking your head as you hide your face in your hands, "i-i don't want to have his children."
gojo feels bile rise to his throat at the thought of that.
he's only seen you twice. why does he care so much about what happens to you?
"somebody else will come along," he says in a whisper, and you look at him through your fingers, dropping them to your side as you blink slowly, rubbing at your cheeks.
"no good man wants to marry me," you tell him quietly, without any trace of pity for yourself, something that was simply the truth, "if not naoya, then another variant of him."
gojo leans down slightly to level with you, his lips pressed into a thin line.
you don't know why he's so close, or why he looks more worried for you than anybody else has. you shrug him off of you, trying to collect yourself as you peer through one of the large windows that look inside the estate.
"you can get rid of that blanket," you mutter, eyes darting from the window to his stunning blue ones, ones that make your knees slightly weak, "i was going to knit a new one anyways."
you bid your farewells, nodding lowly at him as you find your way inside.
gojo watches your back, looking back at the group as he runs a hand through his hair, gripping at his white locks in frustration.
he doesn't know what he's feeling. he doesn't know why he wants naoya suddenly dead. he doesn't know why he's not going to listen to what you just asked him to do, or why he wants to hold onto that blanket.
gojo doesn't know why you suddenly infiltrate his every waking moment, or why he needs to see naoya buried alive just so that you wouldn't have to marry him.
he doesn't know the answer to any of these things. but he doesn't know if he wants to.
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obxsummer · 2 months ago
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leave me again ii // rafe cameron
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pairing: rafe cameron x routledge!reader (she/her), ex!jj maybank x reader
summary: you left the cut with nowhere to go. it’s rafe cameron that finds you and shows you the life you deserved to live
warnings: sorry jj lovers, that man does not get our girl back so sad jj and probably ooc rafe but i love it when that man is soft
navigation || part one
--
Six months.
It had been six months since any of the Pogues had seen you. No social media, no sight of you around town, no letters. Nothing.
The past six months left you to do a lot of reevaluations. You’d walked aimlessly after the group had left for the dive with nothing but your backpack and phone, no destination in mind. Until you found one.
“Lost or something?”
“Fuck off, Rafe,” Your response was instant as you continued to walk without sparing him a look. The car shifted into a different gear, you guessed by the noise, before Rafe was hopping out to approach you.
“Are you okay?” When you didn’t answer, he moved in closer and grabbed your shoulder before turning you to face him. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”
You stared at him with the knowledge that you probably looked like a mess with the tear streaks across your cheeks. While Rafe had a lot of issues with your friends and brother, he usually stayed clear of you. Whether that was because you were close with Sarah, or what, you didn't know.
Twisting your fingers together, you dropped your gaze as tears started to build again. “You ever watch someone you love choose someone else over you, every single time?”
The question felt like a punch in the gut to Rafe. He had. His whole life he watched his dad choose Sarah. Watched his mom choose another family over him. Watched Wheezie choose another sibling over him.
“Get in, I’ve got somewhere to take you.”
Six months ago, you hopped in Rafe Cameron’s Range Rover and left The Cut behind. You didn’t question the decision, knowing you’d worry about everyone else before taking care of yourself, and that clearly didn’t work in the past. You felt horribly guilty about leaving John B with no indication whether you were okay or not, but you knew if one of them found out, JJ would be busting down the door to Rafe’s bedroom before you had a chance to say no. 
While you weren’t sure what the original intentions had been, Rafe was so different with you after bringing you back to his new house. One he’d bought after selling Tannyhill, free from the haunting of his father and the screams that echoed off the walls, he had turned it into a safe space for himself and anyone he invited in.
Things blossomed quickly and you realized the Rafe in front of you was not the bully, coke-head addict you’d once known. He was such a gentle person, and so much more attentive to you than JJ had ever been. Whether it was making you breakfast in bed before you left for the day, or prepping a warm (actually warm, like hot water you’d hadn’t had in forever) candle lit bath, or popping an expensive bottle of wine just for you to taste, he was there in ways nobody had been. You were his girl, his only girl, and you never once had to question that.
Rafe had even invited you to sit in on his investment meetings and he was slowly pulling your name into his business so you’d have a professional background to grow into. You were steadily becoming an educated little couple in his home, something he was so proud and grateful for. He had someone to lean on for advice and give him fresh eyes on new projects with no judgment or fear of anger. The two of you soaked up your bubble of peace for as long as you could before shit hit the fan. 
Little did you know, on the other side of the island with your brother, there had been absolutely no peace. John B and JJ barely spoke, everything ending in an argument when they did. Pope was sick of playing mediator, and Kie had more of less shut down out of guilt. Sarah was still searching for you, but you’d gone ghost. Cleo was treading lightly with the knowledge that everything would explode eventually. 
So, they did what they could, and dove into treasure hunting. When JJ pulled the amulet out of his pocket in the back of the Twinkie, John B’s emotions were mixed. Sure, he was stoked that he’d found the object the group was looking for, but he wished you were here. It was your birthday, and John B was inches away from losing his shit without you.
“Dude, are you okay?” Pope asked as the group stood in the office area of the house, trying to find more information on the amulet’s inscription.
John B tossed the heavy object on the desk in frustration. “No, I’m not okay! We can find decades old treasure like it’s the easiest thing ever, but we can’t find jack shit about my sister? That’s bullshit, Pope. And you know it.”
Pope knew things would be sensitive today. Even JJ woke up grouchy, which John B told him was deserved since he caused your absence in the first place. The lack of your presence weighed heavy on the group, so Pope suggested going to visit one of your favorite beach spots. 
Little did he know what he was getting himself into.
--
“Rafe!” The house was filled with your laughter as Rafe twirled you in the kitchen lighting, your favorite song playing from the interactive speaker on the counter. The two of you had spent the day together, visiting the country club for lunch before Rafe took you shopping for something to wear tonight.
“C’mon, sweetheart. Lemme love on you, it’s your birthday” He mumbled as he pressed soft kisses into your neck, hands squeezing your hips teasingly. The soft fabric of the dress he’d picked out covered your frame, the color matching your skin perfectly. 
You hummed in content, fingers holding his biceps tightly as if your knees would give out any second. “You loved on me a lot this morning.”
“Can’t help it.” Rafe’s thumb traced your bottom lip before he kissed you softly. “You make it so easy.”
The two of you got lost in each other for a few more moments, soaking up the quiet as the orange sunset started casting through the windows. Today had been the best day you’d had in so long and you were so grateful of Rafe for giving you so much patience and love.
It had taken time for you to adjust to this kind of life. You walked in here with three outfits to your name, a busted cell phone, and a stuffed animal John B won you at the town festival as kids. And Rafe embraced every bit of it, let you keep your Pogue pieces while building you a life around it that was filled with items you needed but would never ask for, all while loving you so gently.
You climbed out of his car (technically the one he’d bought you but you refused to acknowledge that), and stepped down into the soft sand below. This was your spot, the spot you came to whenever you needed to clear your head or take a moment alone. You’d shared it with Rafe shortly after everything changed, and now, it was a shared spot that you both considered special.
Rafe moved around the car to grab your hand and guide you toward the area he had organized for the two of you. A small white table had been set up with your favorite snacks and two glasses of wine, surrounded by the fluffiest blanket and pillows you’d seen. 
“Did you do this?” You squeezed his hand tighter, tears in your eyes at how sweet and thoughtful the gesture was. Your jaw dropped as the two of you walked closer; everything was thought out down to the tiny forks you loved so much being there to pick up the appetizers. 
“Course I did, baby.” Rafe kissed your temple softly and grabbed one of the glasses to hand to you before taking hold of his own. You clinked your glass against his, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply in appreciation.
And then everything went to shit.
“What the fuck?”
Rafe’s hand tightened against your lower back, both of you looking over to see the handful of figures standing a few feet away. Your heart went to your throat went you made eye contact with your brother, whose hand was wrapped in Sarah’s. JJ stood behind him along with Kiara, Pope, and Cleo, all of them looking at you expectantly.
“Shit,” You whispered and took a step back from Rafe, eyes meeting his in dread. His expression had hardened at the sight of JJ, all the anger rushing back when he thought about how you’d been treated in the relationship, how unfair everything had been. You clocked the frustration in his gaze and placed your fingers on his cheek to redirect his focus back to you. “Don’t. I’ll handle it.”
Rafe’s jaw ticked but he didn’t argue as you slipped your wine glass back into his hand and left his side to approach the group standing in front of you. You weren’t even worried about JJ or Kie, you were worried about John B more than anything.
“Hi,” The greeting was so quiet you almost didn’t hear yourself. How do you talk to people you disappeared on six months ago?
John B’s only response was to pull you into the tightest hug he had ever given. You stumbled with the force of his body colliding with you before regaining your balance and returning the embrace. 
“You’re okay,” He repeated the words to himself as if convincing his mind that they were true before stepping back and holding your cheeks in his hands. The smile on his face was huge, and you were so so confused. “Holy shit.”
“Hi,” You laughed quietly, placing your hands on top of his. “I’m so sorry.”
John B shook his head, his thumb brushing the random tear from your cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I told you to take a break, yeah? And you did.”
You glanced back to where Rafe was surprisingly conversing with Sarah with no anger in sight. The pit in your stomach slowly disappeared as you took them in and turned your attention back to John B. “I um… there’s a lot to catch you up on, and I want to tell you. I wanna tell you all of it, JB, but-”
“And I wanna hear it,” He reassured softly. “But someone put a lot of effort into your night and I don’t wanna steal any of it.”
You were so goddamn grateful for your brother. Pulling John B into another hug, you spared the look over his shoulder to see Kiara stomping away from the beach. You tried to keep a smirk off your face but it definitely made its way through. 
Stepping back from John B, you shared hugs with Cleo and Pope, promising that you would see them soon before you were face to face with the reason you made it here in the first place. JJ looked rough. His hair was chaotic, arms thinner than you remembered, and he just looked tired.
“I don’t want your apology,” You spoke as he opened his mouth. “And it looks like you have a girlfriend to go find anyway.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” JJ replied quickly as he stared at you. “Not anymore.”
You pulled your lips in and shrugged. “Okay. I’ll see you around, JJ.”
He reached a hand out toward you when you moved to walk away. You paused just out of his reach and looked back. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
You nodded. “I know. I should be thanking you actually, because if you had said it back to me that day, I wouldn’t have found something so much better.”
And with that, you walked away from JJ and the empty promises he had always given, walked away straight into the arms of someone who would give you the world and more, if you just so much as asked.
--
navigation 
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gojoest · 4 months ago
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FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru
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girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!
satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well
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“come on, my life — say it”
satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—
“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.
this has been going on for the past few weeks.
your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.
“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”
lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”
okay, you shrugged and backed off.
and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.
after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)
but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.
it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...
all of a sudden,
the doorbell rings.
“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.
it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.
“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.
“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…
…at nanami.
a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…
she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.
she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—
“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.
silence in the kitchen befalls.
you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.
“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”
p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.
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smutoperator · 2 months ago
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Her Sister's Boyfriend
Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader (special participation: Jang Daah)
Kinkvember Chapter 5
Main kinks: cheating, foot fetish, handcuffing, worshipping
Word count: 4473.
After a long time being very busy, Wonyoung finally would be able to spend a weekend with her sister, which she missed so much. Although she and Daah would occasionally find each other at Starship's halls, they would go on for many days without being able to see each other.
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"Sister, I came a little earlier than expected. I tried to text you a few times, but I guess you're still busy at work. Either way, I'll be at your guesthouse soon, bye." Wonyoung texted as she arived at Daah's guesthouse but couldn't find her. That was until she was surprised by a shocking scene going on.
"Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhhh," Daah's moans echoed through the house as her boyfriend pinned her against the glass while having sex with her. Wonyoung was definitely surprised; that was the way she found out her sister had gotten a boyfriend. But instead she just gave you a wink and walked unnoticed past Daah, who was with her eyes closed and enjoying a mind-blowing orgasm from you.
But on the next day, as Daah went to shop for some groceries, Wonyoung made her move. She went to the kitchen with her body naked from the waist down, her long legs completely exposed, as you heard some noises at the kitchen and decided to check things out.
"Honey, are you already ba... what the fuck?" You were shocked when you saw Wonyoung's lower body fully exposed. Wonyoung giggled. "Why do all you guys panick in front of a bare pussy?" she asked. "I'm pretty sure you were inside my sister's own pussy when I arrived here yesterday," she said.
"I'm sorry, it's a little different when it's not my girlfriend," you say to Wonyoung. "Different?" she asks. "Why exactly? Pussies are very similar. They are wet and warm; they squirt and get stretched out by some cock that wants to cum insde them; isn't that how it works?" she says. "Although, to be honest, my pussy is a little different; my partners have said I have Korea's diamond pussy," Wonyoung brags about it.
"Diamond pussy, what do you mean?" you ask her. "Well, they say my pussy is so tempting it's much better than the others. They say it's worth more than a diamond. Why don't you have a taste and check it by yourself?" Wonyoung asks as she shoves your face against her pussy. You try to resist out of loyalty to your girlfriend, but her words were true. As soon as the amazing scent of Wonyoung's pussy invades your nostrils, any thoughts you had about Daah go out of the window.
You quickly start licking Wonyoung's folds, unable to resist the temptations of her diamond pussy. She's very vocal, telling where you need to attack, and by the wetness you can feel inside it, she's not faking it. "Yes, lick it like that, ohhhh fuck," she moans, pushing your head further against it. You lick it like crazy, amazed at how good her pussy smells.
"Oh, your tongue feels so good in my pussy," Wonyoung says. She moves her body left and right, meaning you get to enjoy every inch of her vagina. "Ahhh, ahhhh, yes," she moans. When she pushes her pussy a bit apart, reacting to the stimulation, you quickly go back and lick it. Soon, you replace your tongue with your fingers, making Wonyoung cream herself over the kitchen's floor. "I guess my sister will have to do some cleaning when she returns," she says.
"OH MY GOD, YESSSS," Wonyoung gleefully screams as she grinds her pussy in your face. Right now, it's no longer you that has control; it's her, as she just uses your face as a pleasure playground for her vagina until she gets what she craves for: her orgasm.
"Ahhh, that felt so good," Wonyoung says as her juices cover your face. "I think you deserve a gift for making me cum," she says, taking your shirt off. "Wow, you're so strong; no wonder my sister was so in love with you yesterday," she continues, paying close attention to your muscular frame.
Wonyoung reaches under your pants and confirms what she already knew: a muscular guy like you had a massive cock that was already throbbing for her. "My sister is shorter than me; I bet that big cock was hitting her cervix all the time," Wonyoung says as she reminds herself of yesterday's sex moment between you and Daah. She kisses you and touches your balls. "Hope you saved some cum for me and didn't drain it all yesterday," she says.
"That's so big and hard, oh my god, so fucking huge," Wonyoung says as she gets impressed by your cock. If there is something Wonyoung has seen countless times, it's big cocks. But it's more than just size; it's shape—the huge throbbing tip popping out of your foreskin, the erection pointing to the sky, the big balls. She caresses it and keeps praising your cock, even lying about never seeing a cock that big before to pretend she's more innocent than she is.
Wonyoung spits on your cock and jerks it off before getting on her knees to suck it. You just groan as her dick-sucking lips tightenly envelope your dick, with her moaning hard as she gets very sloppy, saliva coming out of her chin. "Fuck my face; I want to feel every inch of it in my throat," Wonyoung says, and you do it just as she asks. Well, except it's Wonyoung's face fucking your cock, because she pushes it hard against your shaft every single time.
"Shit, shit, stop; you're going to fast; I'm gonna," you say. "Cum?" Wonyoung says. "That's exactly what I want," Wonyoung says, kissing your tip and then licking your shaft from top to bottom before landing on your balls as she keeps jerking it off. "God, it feels so good, shittt,' you say as she savors your cock like an ice cream and licks your tip before shoving it in her face. She then jerks your foreskin off with your tip in her mouth. "Ohhhh shit, yeah," is all you can say.
But they say there are actions to speak louder than words, and you ejaculating all over Wonyoung's throat after her blowjob session certainly qualifies. She tastes it and swallows it all. "So salty," she says. "Good boy, I want you to fuck me now; let's go to bed," she continues.
Wonyoung carries you to the same bed you and Daah had sex. She gets herself dressed in enticing waist-high stockings, wearing all black lingerie alongside red high heels; her appearance with this outfit gets you hard shortly after, which she notices. "Good to see this cock going up all for me," she says. She cuffs your hands to the bed and sits on top of your already naked body, shoving her feet in your face for you to sniff and lick. "Doesn't it smell good, baby?" she asks. "Yes," you answer without hesitation, being true to yourself as her feet seem to have on you the same effect her pussycat did. Your imagination runs wild as you try to lick her feet, but she pulls out at the last second. "Patience, baby," she says.
Wonyoung keeps running her feet over your face, teasing you endlessly. She then crosses her legs, giving you a quick opening of her pussy before shutting it down. "How much do you want to fuck it, enough to give your girlfriend up for me?" she asks. "Yes," you answer, completely hypinotized by this goddess. You always felt Daah had been a great girlfriend, but her younger sister just seems to be on another level. A one in a thousand years level, to be more precise.
"You did great work when you were in that kitchen," Wonyoung says. "And behavior like this deserves to be rewarded, don't you think?" She continues, walking around the bed before she pushes her feet against your torse and prepares herself for her next move.
Wonyoung rips off her recently bought stockings right at her bottom area. No big deal; she has lots of money to buy plenty of them. She quickly sits on your face. It's incredible that she doesn't have the biggest ass, but she knows exactly where to sit to suffocate you to the fullest. "That's right, just like that," she says as you grab her waist and quickly eat her pussy while she grinds on your face. 
"That's your reward for doing such a good job," Wonyoung says as she moans hard. You try to touch every inch of her body. "You know how special you are? Eating that diamond pussy the whole country craves for," she continues, showing her through-the-roof self-confidence.
Your face turns into Wonyoung's personal playground. You don't know how that's even possible, but her pussy rides your face as if it were actually riding your cock. "That's right, show me how excited you are for your special treat," Wonyoung says as she keeps shoving her folds in your face. She then turns around and takes her attention to your cock. As she starts jerking it off, you get an amazing view of her cute ass twerking on your face. "Ahhhh, that's so good," Wonyoung says as your tongue keeps licking her pussy.
"Good boy deserves some special treat," Wonyoung says, deepthroating your cock as if your big shaft were nothing. She takes it all the way in from the get go, drooling all over it like the needy slut she is. She rubs her hand all over it and gets quite sloppy, engulfing it like those sword eaters from a circus. You spank her ass trying to cope with the heat, making her moan as you do so. "Such a good boy, such a good boy," she keeps repeating as her cunt suffocates you to the maximum.
You move into Wonyoung's feet, tasting it and licking her toes. "Love the way you appreciate my tasy feet, especially my perfect toes," she says, keeping the work on your cock. "Oh fuck," you say. "Come on, baby, don't cum again," she orders as you kiss her feet like a gentleman while she sucks your cock like a slut.
Your mouth is now full of Wonyoung's fingers, while your fingers are all over her pussy. "You know how much I love that?" she asks, giving your cock some crazy deepthroat to show her appreciation. "Tell me how much you want me to sit on this big cock?" Wonyoung asks as she wraps your face between her feet and her ass, moaning when you tongue her pussy. You answer positively, but she can't hear it; your words are getting lost inside her cunt like everything that gets inside it; hopefully soon your cock.
"I know you're eager to get inside my diamond pussy, but first I want to tease you a little more," Wonyoung says as she runs her soles over your shaft. "Seem like you loved my toes a lot, so I think you'll love them wrapped around that big cock too," Wonyoung says as she triple teams your cock: her feet and hand jerking it off, her mouth licking your tip. "That's really good, isn't it? Aren't you very spoliled?" Wounyoung asks as her feet now massage your shaft all by themselves.
"You want it to slide in my pussy don't you? Tell me how much you want it; I want you to beg for it," Wonyoung says as she keeps jerking your shaft off with her feet. "Yes," you say, pushing your face closer to hers despite being cuffed. "Well, here's your little treat for being so patient," Wonyoung replies.
Wonyoung rubs your cock against her entrance and then squats on it. "Just feeling that tight grip of that big cock in my pussy," she says. "Ahhh, yeah, nice and slow, spread it open for me," she begs as she starts bouncing on your dick, her ride being very straightforward and powerful.
"That's right, it feels good, doesn't it?" Wonyoung asks you as she pushes your cock deeper in her pussy and increases the pace. But it's the moment where she rubs her toes on your balls that drives you crazy. "That's right, give it to me; show me that good boy is putting in some extra work, yeah, yeah," she says as you push your cock upwards to pound her diamond pussy despite your limited mobility cuffed to the bed, as your willingness to fuck Wonyoung tops everything.
But Wonyoung quickly regains control and just moves on with her insane ride, going fast and deep almost as if bouncing on your big cock was like a regular job to her. She grinds her pussy on your cock and laughs like a maniac, then presses her hands on your chest and pushes hard. You try to counter. "Give it to me nice and fucking deep, oh fuck, yes, harder, harder, ahhhh," she moans when you finally grab her waist and give her the pounding that she needs so much.
"Oh, fuck," you say as your fast pace almost makes you cum. Wonyoung kisses you and enjoys the pounding you give her. "Keep taking it deep," she demands. But it's her who takes matters into her hands, spreading her legs and just demolishing your cock with fast and loud bounces.
"Shit," you groan as Wonyoung starts doing what she's known the best for—her signature spinning ride where she hits your cock from all sides while rotating on it. "Show me what a good fucking boy you are," she demands. "AHHHHHH," you scream as the walls of her tight cunt smash your cock into pieces, squeezing it as hard as they can.
"Oh yeah, that's right; keep stretching it. Shape my walls with your cock," Wonyoung demands as she continues to bounce on it like a maniac. She puts her feet in your mouth and teases you, then switches to a sideways ride while fingering her pussy and then starts spinning again. You grab her waist, trying to control her, but she clearly shows who is in command. Well, that is until Wonyoung makes the next move.
Wonyoung takes your handcuffs off, and you immediately grab her, carry fucking her all over the bedroom. "I want you to show me what you can do; unleash the beast inside you," she demands as you give her ass a couple taps. You get on top of her and start worshipping her body with plenty of kisses in all her parts: her pussy, her boobs, her belly, her mouth—nothing escapes from you.
"Good boy, that's right, I want you to worship every inch of my body," Wonyoung demands as you keep kissing her all the way to her feet, to which you pay special attention, putting her fingers up your mouth and kissing her soles. "Show me what you want; show me what you've been begging for," she continues. You lick her pussy next as Wonyoung puts herself in a fetal position to watch you worship her diamond hole. "Doesn't I have the best pussy in the whole world?" she asks. "Yes," you promptly answer with your mouth still full of her folds.
"Get deeper in that pussy," Wonyoung demands as she pushes your face in its direction. "That's so fucking good," she moans as you keep working your mouth in it, sending her to the heavens. But what she wants the most is your cock, as you put Wonyoung in a mating press position and fuck her while massaging her toes behind her head, making her moan really loud.
"YOU'RE SO FUCKING DEEP IN ME, YESSS," Wonyoung screams as your hard thrusts make her body get pushed back and forth. "That cock is so wide, it stretches out my tiny little pussy so good," Wonyoung moans. "Harder, harder, fucking use it," she keeps begging as you groan with her pussy squeezing your shaft further. Your thrusts get more and more aggressive; her moans get louder and louder. "YES, YES, YES, YES, AH, AH, AH, AH," Wonyoung moans as she kisses you.
"AHHHHHH," it's your turn to scream as you pound her really hard. It's really difficult for you to hold still and not pump her pussy full of your seeds, but you stay put in spite of the extreme pressure Wonyoung's tight cunt exerts on your big cock. "Oh yeah, keep going, just like that, FUCK, YOU HIT ME SO DEEP, AHHHH," Wonyoung demands and then screams.
"Show me you're a good boy; keep holding that cum until I tell you to," Wonyoung says. "You're putting in a lot of hard work; you truly deserve the honor to cum inside the best pussy in the world," she says. You give her ass some little taps, and she giggles as you hit her deep. "That cock is doing such a good job," she says.
You take a break just to follow her instructions and avoid cumming earlier. But Wonyoung isn't a girl of taking breaks, kneeling to suck your cock as soon as you pull out of her. "Oh fuck, your mouth is so perfect, yes," you groan as Wonyoung pushes you to the edge, sucking your cock very sloppily and jerking it off with her big hands. "Oh shit," you say as she deepthroats your massive length with ease once again and increases the pace, sucking it hard until you have to give her butt a little tapping to not cum.
"Hmm, you want to see that ass bouncing while I ride your cock?" Wonyoung asks. "Well, there it is," she says, mounting on top of it in reverse cowgirl. "Oh fuck, ahhhh yeah, right there," Wonyoung moans as she is as happy as ever. "Slow down," you try to tell her. "No baby, I'm not slowing down; you're gonna take me at my best, that's right, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHH," Wonyoung says as her cute butt keeps hitting your crotch. You decide not to slow down and push upwards. 
"Oh yeah, fuck, that's right, that's right, put in some fucking work," Wonyoung says as you hit her hard and deep before you tap her ass once again to survive to fight another round. "You deserve a reward, baby," she says, pulling out and sucking your cock a little more while you eat her pussy for a sexy 69.
"You're gonna follow my orders, right?" Wonyoung says. "Get up here and fuck me from behind next," she orders. You start massage her pussy in preparation as she puts her face down and ass up, moaning as you keep worshipping her fuckhole. "You're doing so well," she praises you.
"Come here, you say as you grab her waist and insert your cock in her pussy from behind. "Oh fuck, that's right, nice and deep," Wonyoung moans. "Wow, you're so tight, oh shit" you say as you grab her waist. Wonyoung counters and bounces on your cock even on all fours. "YEAH, YEAH," she repeats as she keeps moaning. "OHHHH, OHHHH, OHHH," you groan, trying not to cum and playing with her toes to distract yourself.
"Keep that ass up," you tell Wonyoung as her feet jerk your cock off while you thrust inside her pussy, which starts queefing as she manages to squeeze your shaft both from the inside and outside. You have to stop, punishing her for being so naughty as you masturbate her pussy, but she stays focused and reaches with her long hands to keep stroking your shaft.
"AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH," Wonyoung moans hard as you make her cum, but not without a price, as her jerking off makes you cover the bedsheets with your semen as well. "You're not gonna make me cum unpunished; where is my good boy? You're behaving very badly now," Wonyoung says. "Now get this cock hard again and please give it back to me," she continues.
You do just as she demands, getting hard as soon as the walls of her pussy tighten around your cock once again. "Perfect, just like that, fuck, yes, yes, yes," Wonyoung moans as you pound her from behind, tying her arms behind her back. "Spread it open, fucking spread that pussy open," she demands as she moves back into shaking her hips and moves them up and down your big cock. You answer by grabbing her shoulders and then spreading her mouth. "That's right, take it, take it," she says, never stopping to bounce as both her cheeks and your crotch clash and make loud noises clapping against each other.
"That's it, such a good boy," Wonyoung says as you pound her hard and fast. You try to match her horniness, but she's just on another level, wearing you out after a couple minutes to save yourself from an orgasm while her sweaty body keeps moving up and down your shaft regardless. "Show me you're not done, that's right," she keeps commanding as soon as you regain strength to fuck her hard again. But Wonyoung is just a different demon and keeps moving her hips in a way that the walls of her pussy now hit your cock sideways. "OHHHHH," you groan hard, gettung caught by surprise.
Even on all fours, it's Wonyoung who controls the pace, with you avoiding yet another close call by tapping her ass and giving yourself a break, begging for a blowjob. "Come suck it, oh fuck," you say to her as Wonyoung grabs your shaft and takes it in her throat like a demon. You shove your monster cock all the way in her, going balls deep and spanking her ass yet she barely moves, coating it full of her saliva and performing the loudest blowjob ever as you grab her hair and fuck her face.
You use the lubrication from her saliva to fuck Wonyoung in a spooning position and get a great look at her pretty and horny face. "That's right, that's right," she says. You kiss Wonyoung and finger her pussy as you fuck it, lifting one of her legs and attacking her cunt hard. "Fuck me until you cum, ahhhh, yeah, yeah," Wonyoung says as you seem keen on not stopping. You choke her in between kisses and then spread her legs. "So good, so good," she says as she moves to kiss you and watch your cock bulge under her. "AHHHHH, THAT'S SO DEEP," she screams as she looks at you with naugthy eyes, giggling as you push hard against her pussy and she fingers it.
"I'm gonna cum for you if you cum inside me," Wonyoung says as you get more animalesque, groaning hard at each thrust. "You're hitting me so deep; time to finish deep inside my pussy," Wonyoung begs. You kiss her feet and worship it as your love for her only increases, even forgetting about your girlfriend. "Please, give me your cum," she begs as you two share kisses, and she's now in a featal position, her long legs over her head.
You feed Wonyoung your cock as she licks her chops afterwards, using her saliva for another session of deep pounding as you two have some very passionate sex. "You know how deep that is? Your cock is so big, I feel so jealous of my sister for finding you; I need to share you with her or make you mine altogether, fuckkkk," Wonyoung says.
"Let it out, let it out; your reward for being such a good boy will be breeding the best pussy in the world. Have you ever cum inside my sister?" Wonyoung asks. "Well, yesterday it was the first time," you answer. "After how many encounters?" Wonyoung asks again. "Fifteen," you answer. "Yet here you are, ready to cum inside me after just meeting me 30 minutes ago, bad boy," Wonyoung says. "Well, I can't blame you; my pussy is just that good," she continues.
"Fuck that feels so good," you say to Wonyoung. "I know," she says. "Now fuck me hard, because that's what I want; show me how much you love this perfect pussy; get ready to give me the best fucking load you can. Put that cum deep inside my pussy," she continues.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Eleven shots. You finally unload your cum gun inside Wonyoung's pussy. Her walls squeeze you so hard your cock pops out of it as your white sperm runs down into the bedheets. You even manage to leave a couple drops on her beautiful right foot as your cocks come out and the remaining cum lands perfectly in there for her to put it in her mouth and lick it. You groan like crazy as you're completely drained. 
"Let me milk every last drop," Wonyoung says, massaging her feet on it and letting a few sparkles of semen come out and fall on her belly. "Greay work, you're such a good boy," Wonyoung says as she praises you, who can't even think straight after she showed how much of a ball drainer she was.
And just like that, Daah opens the door.
"What the fuck is that?" Wonyoung's older sister asks. "Daah, I can explain," you say, using the default statement. "Not sure you can explain fucking my sister for 30 minutes; I saw everything," Daah replies.
"You were there the whole time?" you say, confused. "Yes, behind the door, you're so stupid, but I get it; she's young and hot," Daah says.
"Sister I think I can compensate for being a cheating slut," Wonyoung says. "Not sure how," Daah replies. 
"Well, your boyfriend said yesterday was the first time she came in your pussy," Wonyoung says. "That's right," Daah said. "Well, has he ever fucked you in the ass?" Wonyoung asks.
"No, I'm scared of even trying," Daah says. "Well, I can teach you, sister, let's go to the shower," Wonyoung says.
Wonyoung and Daah line up their tall, naked bodies for another round of sex. You put your cock in your girlfriend's ass for the first time. And she struggles.
"AHHHHHHH," Daah screams, not ready for your massive cock in her ass.
"Well, sister, it looks like you'll have to follow my lead," Wonyoung says.
"You're such a naughty girl, Wonyoung," Daah says, handing your cock to her younger sister for a 2nd round.
"Watch me, learn from the best; look how easy it is." Wonyoung brags as your full length goes in her ass without even a peep.
"How does she even do that? I guess she's indeed a one in a thousand years girl," Daah thinks to herself. And she's right.
"Come taste it," Wonyoung tells her sister, as you quickly bust inside her asshole.
"Wow, that's delicious," Daah says, tasting your cum.
"I think you're finally ready; I can go now."
1K notes · View notes
mcrdvcks · 3 months ago
Text
Dumb & Poetic
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Summary: You like Logan, but he likes Jean. Right?
Word Count: 6k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: honestly, this isn't one of my favorites, but i just needed to write it to get it out of my head.
also, this is after the sabrina carpenter song, but this story has no relation to the lyrics whatsoever, i just thought the title was fitting
reader's powers are manipulating atoms (it'll make sense when you read)
warnings/tags: some uses of y/n, pet name (princess, sweetheart), miscommunication, light violence, blood, implied age gap
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Even after going on ten missions and counting, you always found yourself nervous. Especially when you were getting onto the Blackbird, clad in your matching suits. The hum of the jet’s engines filled the air, but your mind was on Logan. He sat across from you, legs spread out, arms crossed over his chest, that usual scowl on his face. It was the way he always looked before a mission, but you couldn’t help but glance over a little too often.
Ororo slid into the seat next to you, her sharp eyes catching your lingering stare. “You know,” she said softly, leaning over slightly, “if you keep looking at him like that, you might as well say something.”
You blinked, face heating up. “What? I wasn’t—”
“Oh, please, Y/N,” Ororo chuckled under her breath. “I’m not blind.”
You sighed and slouched back into your seat, fiddling with the straps. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s Logan,” Ororo shrugged. “Everything about him is complicated. But that doesn’t mean you should hold back.”
You cast another glance across the cabin at him. Logan was still quiet, staring out the window now, completely unaware of the butterflies flipping around in your stomach. You didn’t want to admit it, but Ororo was right. There was something about Logan that made you pause. Maybe it was the way he always seemed to be in his own world, like he was still holding onto things from his past. Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at Jean sometimes, like there was still something unresolved there.
“I don’t think he’s over her,” you murmured, feeling the familiar weight of doubt settle in.
“Jean?” Ororo raised an eyebrow. “Please, Jean and Scott are practically married. Logan isn’t hung up on her anymore. If anything, he’s just... Logan.”
You nodded, but the doubt still lingered. It was hard to let yourself hope for something that seemed impossible. Besides, Logan saw you as the kid, didn’t he? He always called you ‘princess’ or ‘sweetheart’- terms of endearment, sure, but you figured he used them with everyone.
Before you could dwell on it any longer, Hank’s voice came over the intercom, snapping everyone to attention. “We’re approaching the target. This should be a routine recon and hopefully data extraction but keep your guard up.”
Logan stood, moving to the front of the cabin. “You heard him. We get in, get the intel, and get out. No heroics.”
You stood with Ororo, adjusting your gloves and trying to ignore the fact that your heart rate had picked up. It wasn’t the mission that had you on edge, but Logan’s presence, the way he effortlessly took command of the room. You hated how easily he affected you.
The Blackbird landed with a soft jolt, and the team moved into action. Logan gave you a nod as you passed, and you swore you saw something in his eyes—concern? Or maybe you were just seeing what you wanted to see.
As the team fanned out, you stayed close to Jean and Scott, your senses heightened. You were supposed to keep it simple, in and out. But things rarely went that smoothly.
A flicker of movement caught your eye just as Jean’s telepathy brushed against your mind. Y/N, we’re not alone. Be ready.
And then all hell broke loose.
Explosions rocked the compound as enemies swarmed in from every direction. You threw up your hands, quickly manipulating the air around you, converting oxygen molecules to corrosive acids to fend off the attackers. Beside you, Scott fired his optic blasts, and Jean’s telekinesis sent debris flying.
You ducked behind a large pole of concrete, peeking out at the attackers behind you. “Alchemy, think you can get to the data room and get what we came for?” Hank asked over comms, as he and Logan fought a group of attackers.
You took a deep breath and peeked out at the attackers. "I’ll do my best, Hank," you responded, scanning for a clear path to the data room. The explosions and gunfire made it difficult to focus, but you knew you had to move.
“Cover her!” Logan’s voice barked out, and you felt a small surge of determination. He was counting on you. The team was counting on you. It was almost too much pressure to bear.
Ororo and Jean moved to provide cover as you darted toward the entrance of the data room. You manipulated the chemicals in the air around you, creating a thick fog to obscure the attackers' vision, but it wouldn’t last long.
You slipped into the room and immediately went to work on the computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. The download started, but it was slow, and you could hear the chaos outside intensifying.
“Hurry it up, Alchemy!” Scott’s voice came over the comms, tension clear in his tone.
“Almost there,” you muttered, eyes glued to the screen. The progress bar crept forward, painfully slow. You glanced over your shoulder, half expecting an attacker to burst through the door at any moment.
A loud crash echoed through the room as part of the hallway imploded, sending dust and debris flying. You ducked, covering your head with your arms as the force of the blast knocked you off balance. The data was still downloading—just a few more seconds. But the chaos outside was getting worse.
"Y/N!" Logan's voice crackled through the comms, barely audible over the noise. "Get out of there, now!"
"Almost done!" you yelled back, heart pounding. The progress bar was at 95%. You just needed a little more time.
Another explosion rocked the compound, and you heard Logan shout something to the others. You could hear gunfire and the clash of metal against metal as the team fought off the attackers. Every second felt like an eternity.
"Got it!" you exclaimed as the download completed. You yanked the USB drive from the computer and turned to make your escape. You entered the open area where the rest of the team was fighting, just as part of the ceiling fell. Instinctively, you raised your hands and quickly converted the falling cement into water, which drenched you from head to toe.
You grimaced, pushing your wet hair from your face, but there was no time to focus on the discomfort. The fight was still raging, and Logan’s voice crackled over the comms again, "Princess, get out of there. Now."
“On my way!” you shouted, breaking into a sprint to rejoin the team. You dodged debris, your heartbeat in your ears, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
As you rounded the corner, Scott called out through comms, “everyone get dow- ”
Before you could react or shield yourself, a blast came from all around you, an explosion of some kind. You watched as Logan tackled Jean to the ground, shielding her. It was instinctual, he was only protecting a teammate, and Jean was the closest one to him. At least, that’s what you told yourself to feel better.
You hit the ground hard, your body skidding across the concrete before colliding with a pile of debris. Pain exploded in your side as you groaned, gasping for breath. Dazed, you tried to push yourself up, but your vision swam.
Your hand came down to your side, fingers grazing the sticky warmth on your glove. It wasn’t the water from earlier—you knew that now. The sharp pain spreading through your body confirmed it. You blinked, vision blurring for a second, but your focus quickly snapped back as your instincts kicked in.
"Princess, come in! Y/N!" Logan’s voice crackled over the comms, but it sounded distant, like he was yelling from the other side of a tunnel.
“I’m fine,” you groaned, struggling to push yourself to your feet. Your side screamed in protest, but you forced yourself to ignore it. You couldn’t afford to be down for long. Not when everything around you was falling apart.
You looked up to see Logan pulling Jean to her feet, his eyes scanning the battlefield before locking onto you. For a split second, his eyes widened, and then his expression darkened.
“Stay where you are,” Logan barked, already moving toward you, cutting through the debris and chaos like a force of nature. His claws were out, gleaming even in the dim light, but it wasn’t the enemies he was focused on. It was you.
“I’m fine,” you repeated, though the words felt weaker this time. The pain was growing worse, and you stumbled as you tried to take a step forward.
Logan was in front of you in an instant, his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall. “You’re not fine,” he growled, his voice low and rough. He looked down at your side, and his lips pressed into a tight line. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch,” you lied, even as the pain in your side flared again, making it harder to breathe. You tried to step back, to shake off his hands, but Logan wouldn’t let you move.
“You are not fine,” Logan repeated, his eyes dark as they focused on the piece of metal lodged in your side. His hand hovered over it, the blood seeping from the wound making his jaw clench.
“Logan, seriously,” you breathed out, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
You tried to brush him off, to act like the sharp, burning pain radiating from your side wasn’t there, but Logan’s hands didn’t move from your shoulders. His grip was firm, almost like he was grounding you.
“Stop lying to me, Princess,” he growled softly, his eyes flicking from your face to the metal in your side. “It’s not nothing. I can smell the blood.”
The way he said it made your face flush, and for a second, you didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t just annoyed; he was worried. It was written all over his face, in the tension of his body, in the way his claws were still out, ready to strike at anything that came near.
“Logan- ” you started, but he cut you off.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice low but commanding. “I’m getting this out.”
He knelt down in front of you, his large hands gently holding your waist. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine despite the situation. You bit your lip, trying to focus on something- anything- other than the way his hands felt on you.
“This is gonna hurt,” he warned, glancing up at you. His eyes softened just a bit, as if he was trying to reassure you.
“I’ll be fine,” you muttered, though the knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. It wasn’t the pain you were worried about.
Logan gave you a quick nod, then, with a sharp tug, he pulled the metal shard from your side. You bit down on a groan, your vision blurring for a moment as the pain shot through you. The wound was deeper than you’d realized, and the blood quickly soaked through your suit.
“Damn it,” Logan muttered under his breath, pressing his hand against your side to try and stop the bleeding. “We need to get you back to the jet. You’re losing too much blood.”
“I can handle it,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to stand up straighter. “We still have enemies out there. I’m not leaving the fight.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “The hell you aren’t.”
You tried to argue, but the pain flared again, and your vision swam. You stumbled, and Logan caught you easily, pulling you against him.
“Stubborn,” he muttered, his voice close to your ear now. “You’re as bad as me.”
“I learned from the best,” you said, trying to force a smile through the pain. But it was hard to keep the act up when your body was screaming at you to lie down, to rest.
Logan’s grip tightened on you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him. His body was solid and warm, and despite the chaos around you, there was something comforting about his presence.
“We’re getting you back to the jet, sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not staying out here like this.”
“But- ” you started to protest, but Logan cut you off again.
“No ‘buts,’ princess. You’re hurt. Let the rest of us handle it.”
Before you could argue again, he gently but firmly hoisted you up into his arms. The movement made your side burn, but you were too stunned by the fact that Logan was carrying you to care.
“Logan, put me down,” you said, your face heating up in embarrassment. “I can walk.”
“Not happening,” he grunted, his arms strong and steady around you. “You can yell at me later if you want. Right now, we’re getting you patched up.”
You looked up at him, your heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. His face was set in that familiar scowl, but there was something else in his eyes. Concern? Maybe even fear?
“Logan, I’m fine,” you tried again, but your voice was weaker this time. The truth was, you were exhausted. The adrenaline was fading, and the pain was becoming harder to ignore.
Logan didn’t respond, his jaw tight as he carried you through the debris and chaos. You caught sight of Ororo and Scott still fighting off the last of the enemies, and Jean was using her telekinesis to hold back another explosion.
“Y/N, are you alright?” Jean’s voice cut through the noise, her eyes widening as she saw you in Logan’s arms.
“She’s hurt,” Logan said, not stopping as he headed for the jet. “I’m getting her out of here.”
Jean looked like she wanted to protest, but she gave a quick nod, her focus shifting back to the battle. “Go. We’ll finish up here.”
As Logan carried you back to the Blackbird, you couldn’t help but glance up at him again. His face was still set in that determined, protective expression, and your heart did another flip.
This wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something else between you two, something you had been too scared to admit to yourself. But now, with Logan holding you close, the weight of his concern for you pressing down on your heart, it was impossible to ignore.
So, for now, you let yourself enjoy the warmth of him around you, lingering in it for as long as you could. Because you knew this is the closest you were ever going to get to him holding you like he cared.
---
You blinked, hearing muffled arguing coming from outside the medbay, Jean coming over to your side. “Hey, there. You’ve been out for a day.”
“A day?” You asked, your voice hoarse.
“You sustained significant blood loss, but luckily the metal didn’t hit any organs, or it would be a much different story,” Jean said gently, her eyes watching you with concern.
You blinked a few times, your head still foggy from the whole ordeal. “A day? I’ve been out for a day?”
Jean nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. “You’re tougher than you think, Y/N. You just need to rest.”
You sighed, glancing around the medbay. The arguing from outside caught your attention again. Jean seemed to notice it too, her expression turning slightly more serious.
“Logan’s been a little... on edge since you were brought back,” she said carefully.
Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Logan. You tried not to let it show, but you’d always been bad at hiding your feelings. Jean gave you a small, knowing smile.
“Don’t worry about him. He just- well, you know Logan.”
You chuckled softly, though it hurt to do so. “Yeah, I know Logan.”
Jean gave you a sympathetic look, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “He’s been worried. More than usual.”
You raised an eyebrow. “More than usual?”
Jean nodded. “You know how he gets. All gruff and ‘I don’t care,’ but it’s just a front. He was pacing outside the medbay the entire time we were patching you up.”
The idea of Logan pacing, stressed about you, felt both strange and oddly comforting. It was hard to imagine him being that concerned over anyone—let alone you.
The door to the medbay creaked open, and Logan’s familiar, rugged form stepped inside. His eyes immediately locked on you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the set of his jaw that told you he was angry. And worried.
Jean gave you a quick smile and a soft pat on your arm before standing. “I’ll give you two some space.”
As Jean left, the room fell into an awkward silence. Logan stood by the door for a moment, arms crossed, not moving. His eyes scanned you, probably taking in the bandages, the way you were still propped up on the medbay bed, looking a little worse for wear.
“Hey,” you said quietly, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m fine.”
“Like hell you are,” Logan muttered, walking over to your bed with heavy steps. He didn’t sit, just loomed at the foot of the bed, arms still crossed, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.
You blinked up at him, trying to push past the discomfort. “I’m fine, really. Jean said I’m tougher than I think.”
“Yeah, and you’re also reckless,” Logan shot back, his voice rough. “You almost got yourself killed out there, Princess.”
Your stomach twisted at his words, and you looked away, fiddling with the blanket. You liked it when he called you that, but at the same time it almost felt like he still saw you as a kid. “I didn’t mean to. I was just doing my job.”
Logan let out a sharp breath, and for a second, you thought he was going to start yelling at you. Instead, he sighed and finally sat down on the chair next to your bed. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking tired.
“I know you were doing your job,” Logan said, his voice quieter now. “But you gotta be more careful. I thought—” He cut himself off, his jaw clenching as he stared at the floor. “I thought I lost you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said it, like the very idea of you being gone was unbearable to him. You swallowed, unsure of what to say. You’d never seen Logan like this—so raw, so vulnerable.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
Logan glanced up at you, his eyes softening just a bit. “You scared the hell outta me, sweetheart.”
The nickname sent a familiar warmth through your chest, but this time it wasn’t just the usual flustered feeling. There was something more behind it, something deeper that you’d never allowed yourself to believe was possible.
“I didn’t mean to,” you repeated, feeling small under his gaze. “I just... I wanted to do my part.”
Logan’s expression softened even more, and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath. “I get that. You’re tough, Princess. But you’re also important. To the team... and to me.”
You blinked, your heart pounding. Did he just say that? Did Logan—Logan, of all people—just admit you were important to him? Your mind was racing, trying to process what he meant, but before you could say anything, Logan stood up abruptly, like he regretted letting those words slip.
“You need rest,” he said, his voice gruff again as he turned toward the door. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
Logan left the medbay, leaving you alone with the beeping machines.
---
A few days later you were released from the medbay and told to take it easy by Jean. Which you took to heart, perhaps a little too much.
You stayed in your room, only leaving at abnormal times to get food and water since you didn’t want to run into Logan. After all, you were young, practically a child to him, and all you wanted was for your crush on him to fade away like so many others did before.
That’s what you kept telling yourself. It didn’t make the ache in your chest any easier to handle. Your crush on Logan had always been this quiet thing, something you never intended to act on. But now, after everything, it felt like it had grown louder, more noticeable. And that scared you.
You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed, idly fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Maybe you just needed to... talk to him. Be normal again. You’d been friends before, hadn’t you? It wasn’t like he knew how you felt, anyway.
Just as you were considering going for a walk to clear your head, there was a knock at your door. You froze.
“Y/N?” Ororo’s voice came from the other side, soft but steady. “You in there?”
You quickly got up, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Ororo stood there, arms crossed, giving you that look—like she knew exactly what was going on with you. It was unnerving, how she always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone emotionally.
“Hey,” you greeted, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”
Ororo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your attempt at nonchalance. “You’ve been hiding.”
You blinked. “I haven’t been hiding.”
Ororo gave you a look. “Please. I haven’t seen you at meal times, and Logan’s been extra grumpy. It’s not hard to put two and two together.”
You felt your face heat up. “Logan’s grumpy all the time.”
“He’s more grumpy than usual,” Ororo said, stepping into your room and closing the door behind her. “He’s been asking around. Wants to know why you’re avoiding him.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “He said that?”
Ororo nodded, leaning against your desk. “He won’t admit it’s bothering him, but it is. What’s going on?”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you sat back down on the bed. “I just... I don’t know, okay? Things got weird after the mission, and I needed space.”
“Logan didn’t do anything wrong,” Ororo pointed out gently.
“I know,” you mumbled. “It’s not him. It’s me.”
Ororo tilted her head, studying you for a moment before sitting beside you on the bed. “You’re worried about how he sees you, aren’t you?”
You swallowed, nodding slowly. “I mean, kinda of. He doesn’t see me in the way I see him, y’know?”
Ororo gave you a knowing look, her lips quirking up slightly. "And how do you see him?"
You hesitated, feeling your face heat up again. "I... I don’t know. It's just... he’s Logan. He’s been through so much, seen so much, and I’m just… me. The kid who got lucky with mutant powers and likes chemistry too much."
Ororo smiled gently, shaking her head. "You’re selling yourself short, Y/N. You're a lot more than that. And Logan sees it."
You opened your mouth to protest, but Ororo held up a hand. "I’m not saying he knows exactly what he's feeling, but he's not as oblivious as you think. And trust me, the way he’s been acting lately, it’s clear you’re important to him."
You sighed, flopping back on the bed. "Maybe, but it’s not like that. It can’t be. He’s Logan—he doesn’t do the whole feelings thing."
Ororo chuckled softly. "You’d be surprised. He’s more in tune with his feelings than he lets on. He’s just… not used to showing them."
You frowned up at the ceiling. "Then why does it feel like I’m the only one getting all messed up over this?"
Ororo stood up, crossing her arms as she looked down at you. "Because you’re thinking too much, Alchemy. Maybe you should try talking to him instead of hiding."
"I’m not hiding!" you protested weakly.
"Uh-huh," Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, hiding or not, he’s not going to let this go. Logan’s stubborn like that."
You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. "Great. That’s exactly what I need."
Ororo chuckled again. "Just… talk to him. It might help. You can’t avoid him forever."
You sighed, peeking out from under the pillow. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about it."
Ororo smiled softly before heading toward the door. "Good. And Y/N?"
You looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Give yourself a little more credit," Ororo said gently. "You’re not just some kid to him. He cares about you. Maybe more than either of you realizes."
Before you could respond, she slipped out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the knot of nervousness growing in your stomach.
---
The next day, you were wandering through the mansion’s empty halls after lunch. You weren’t hiding per se, but you were definitely avoiding a certain someone. Ororo’s words kept echoing in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she was right. Talking to Logan was probably the only way to clear this weird tension between you, but the thought of actually doing it made you want to curl up and disappear.
As you turned a corner, lost in thought, you almost walked straight into him.
"Whoa, easy there, Princess," Logan’s gruff voice startled you as he steadied you with a hand on your arm. "Where you off to in such a hurry?"
You froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I-I wasn’t—uh, just wandering."
Logan raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but amused. "You’ve been ‘just wandering’ a lot lately."
You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. This was it. The moment you’d been dreading. He was right here, and there was no avoiding him now.
Logan sighed, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. "You’ve been avoiding me, sweetheart."
There it was. The thing you’d been trying to dodge. Your heart raced, and you shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. "I haven’t been avoiding you."
Logan huffed, his expression softening a little. "I ain’t stupid, Y/N. You haven’t been around much since the mission. What’s goin’ on?"
You swallowed hard, feeling your palms start to sweat. "It’s nothing. I just... needed some space. That’s all."
Logan narrowed his eyes slightly, studying you. "Space from me?"
You looked down at your shoes, suddenly finding them very interesting. "Not exactly. I just... things got a little weird, okay?"
"Weird how?" Logan’s voice was still rough, but there was a hint of something gentler beneath it. Concern, maybe?
You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. How were you supposed to explain that the reason you’d been avoiding him was because your stupid crush had spiraled into something much more confusing and intense? You couldn’t just blurt that out. Could you?
Logan’s grip on your arm tightened slightly, and he took a step closer, his voice low. "Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you glanced up at him. He was so close now, and the familiar warmth in his eyes was making it hard to think straight.
"I just... I didn’t want to make things awkward between us," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan frowned, his brow furrowing. "Why would things be awkward?"
You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Because I... I care about you, Logan. A lot. And I know you don’t feel the same way because you still like Jean- ”
Logan's frown deepened, and he shook his head almost immediately. "Jean? What’re you talkin’ about?"
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you bit your lip, feeling suddenly embarrassed. "I mean, I just assumed... everyone knows you used to have feelings for her, and it’s fine, really. I get it. I just didn’t want to make things weird by—"
"Y/N," Logan cut you off, his voice firm but not unkind. He stepped closer, his gaze locking with yours. "I ain’t thinkin’ about Jean like that anymore."
You blinked, caught off guard. "You’re not?"
Logan shook his head again, a hint of frustration slipping through. "No, sweetheart. That’s done with. It’s been done with for a while."
Your mind raced, trying to process what he was saying. If he wasn’t still hung up on Jean, then... What did that mean? Why had he been acting so tense around you?
"Then why have you been so... distant?" you asked softly, your voice wavering. "You’ve been acting weird too, Logan. It’s not just me."
Logan looked down for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck—a rare sign of discomfort from him. When he spoke again, his voice was a little gruffer. "I’ve been... tryin’ to figure some stuff out, alright?"
"Figure what out?" you pressed gently, taking a step closer to him now. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest, but you didn’t back down. "Logan, just talk to me."
He sighed, his eyes meeting yours again, and for a second, you saw something vulnerable flash through his expression—something raw. He was quiet for a beat before he finally spoke.
"After that mission," he said slowly, his voice low, "when I saw you get hurt... somethin’ in me snapped. I couldn’t... I couldn’t handle it, Y/N. The thought of losin’ you like that—" He broke off, his jaw tightening, and you could see the tension in his shoulders. "I’ve been through a lotta shit in my life. Seen people come and go. But you? The idea of you bein’ gone—it messed me up more than I thought it would."
You stood there, staring at him, trying to absorb what he was saying. He wasn’t just talking about the mission anymore. This was more than that.
"Logan..." you whispered, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I didn’t know you—"
"I didn’t know it either," he interrupted, his voice rough but sincere. "I didn’t know I felt like this ‘til it hit me. I care about you, Princess. More than I care to admit, sometimes. And I ain’t exactly good at this... feelings thing, y’know that."
Your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, and for a moment, you were convinced you’d misheard him. Logan cared about you? Like that? It felt surreal.
"You... you care about me?" you asked cautiously, your voice small.
Logan huffed, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but there was a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. "Hell yeah, I do. I’ve been tryin’ to push it down for a while now, but it ain’t workin’. Not anymore."
You stared at him in disbelief, your pulse racing. "But... I’m just—"
"Don’t even start with that ‘I’m just me’ bullshit," Logan cut you off again, his tone more serious. "You ain’t ‘just’ anything, Y/N. You’re smart, tough as nails, and you’ve got a good heart. You matter to me. And not in some ‘kid sister’ kinda way either, if that’s what you’re thinkin’."
Your cheeks flushed, and your heart skipped a beat. He was being so direct, so honest, and it left you completely speechless.
Logan shifted a little closer, his gaze softening even more as he looked down at you. "I don’t know when it happened, but it did. You got under my skin, sweetheart. And as much as I tried to ignore it... I can’t."
You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. This was really happening. Logan—gruff, stoic Logan—was telling you that he had feelings for you. And for the first time, you didn’t feel like a kid around him. You felt like someone who mattered, someone he saw.
"I..." you started, your voice shaking a little. "I didn’t think you’d ever... I mean, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now, but I just figured—"
Logan chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to brush your cheek gently. The touch was gentle, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "You figured wrong, Princess."
You blinked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he was looking at you—it wasn’t just teasing or friendly banter. It was something deeper, something real. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper. “I thought I was just… I don’t know, bothering you or something.”
Logan’s hand lingered near your face, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the sincerity in them, the raw emotion he wasn’t hiding anymore. “You ain’t a bother, sweetheart. Far from it. And if I’ve been actin’ like I don’t care, that’s on me. But I do care. A lot.”
Your breath caught in your throat. His touch, his words—it was all too much, too overwhelming. You’d been crushing on Logan for what felt like forever, and now he was standing here, telling you he felt the same way. It didn’t feel real.
“Logan, I…” You started, but your words trailed off as his hand slid down to your neck, his rough palm warm against your skin. The way he was looking at you, the intensity in his gaze, made it impossible to think straight.
“Stop thinkin’ so hard,” Logan murmured, his voice low and rough. “Just… be here. With me.”
Your heart pounded as you met his eyes, your stomach doing flips. You didn’t even realize you’d been holding your breath until you let it out in a shaky exhale. “Okay.”
For a moment, everything felt like it slowed down—the air between you humming with tension. Logan leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, and you could feel his breath warm against your lips. It felt like time had stopped, like nothing else in the world mattered but this moment.
Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the small distance between you and pressed your lips to his.
Logan responded instantly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he kissed you with a kind of intensity that made your knees weak. It wasn’t slow or hesitant—it was rough, urgent, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.
You kissed him back, your hands finding their way to his chest, gripping his shirt as you melted into him. His lips were warm and slightly chapped, and the way he kissed you sent a shock of electricity through your entire body. It was everything you’d imagined and more.
Logan’s free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him until there was no space left between your bodies. You could feel the strength in him, the raw power that he usually kept under tight control, but there was also a tenderness in the way he touched you, like he was afraid of hurting you.
The kiss deepened, and for a moment, you lost yourself in him—in the way he tasted, the way he smelled like leather and pine, the way his hands moved over your body like he couldn’t get enough of you.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Logan’s hands were still on you, one tangled in your hair, the other gripping your waist like he didn’t want to let go.
“Damn,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “You really are somethin’, Princess.”
You laughed softly, feeling a little dizzy from the kiss, from everything. “You’re not so bad yourself, Wolverine.”
Logan smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek again. “Could’ve told me sooner, y’know. Saved me a lotta trouble.”
You rolled your eyes, still grinning. “Yeah, well, you could’ve said something too. You had me thinking I was crazy this whole time.”
He huffed a laugh, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Guess we’re both idiots then.”
You bit your lip, still trying to process everything. You’d kissed Logan. Actually kissed him. And he’d kissed you back. It felt like a dream, like any second now you were going to wake up and realize none of this had happened.
But it had. He was still here, his arms around you, his eyes on you, his lips still tingling from the kiss. And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel nervous or uncertain around him. You felt… right.
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pucksandpower · 3 months ago
Text
Perfect Fit
Day 5 → Size Difference ��� Oscar Piastri
Warnings: 18+ content
Kinktober Masterlist
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“You sure she doesn’t snap in half when you’re together?” Lando’s voice rings out over the steady hum of the paddock, casual, like he’s asking about the weather.
Oscar’s head jerks up, his eyebrows knitting together. “What?”
“You know …” Lando gestures vaguely with his hand, as if the meaning will somehow fill the air between them. “You and her. She’s, like, tiny. Can’t imagine it’s easy for you.”
Oscar frowns, confused for a second before the meaning of Lando’s words sinks in. Lando is grinning like he’s delivered the world’s best punchline, but something twists in Oscar’s chest. The words linger. Too long.
“Mate, seriously?” Oscar scoffs, trying to laugh it off, but there’s an odd tension in his voice. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”
Lando shrugs, all casual, like he hasn’t just dropped a grenade between them. “Just making conversation. Didn’t mean anything by it.”
Oscar doesn’t respond, choosing instead to shove Lando lightly in the shoulder, pushing past him. His heart beats a little too fast, and he finds himself suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of Lando’s comment.
He tries to shake it off, but the thought is like an itch at the back of his mind, one he can’t quite reach to scratch. Size. How could he have never noticed it before? Of course, he knew you were smaller — he had to lean down to kiss you, had to watch his step to not bowl you over in tight spaces. But he’d never really thought about it. Not like that.
Now, though … now he can’t seem to stop thinking about it.
Later that evening, he’s at your apartment. You’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, flipping through some magazine, while he stands in the kitchen, mindlessly sipping from a water bottle. His eyes keep drifting over to you, studying the way you’re curled up. Small, Lando’s words repeat in his head. So much smaller.
You glance up and catch him staring. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says quickly, too quickly. You squint, unconvinced.
“Oscar,” you say, drawing out his name like you’re prying for a confession. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he repeats, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him.
You set the magazine down, leaning back against the cushions. “You’re staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.”
Oscar clears his throat, still not moving from his spot by the counter. “It’s not — I mean, Lando said something stupid earlier.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Lando always says stupid things.”
He chuckles, but the sound is half-hearted. “Yeah, but this was, like, extra stupid.”
“What’d he say?”
Oscar hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s dumb, really.”
“Now you have to tell me,” you say, tilting your head, that teasing smile starting to curl at your lips. You always get that look when you know he’s holding something back, and he knows you won’t let it go until he spills.
He sighs, finally pushing away from the counter and walking over to sit beside you on the couch. “It’s just … he made some joke about, uh … about our size difference.”
Your brows furrow. “What about it?”
Oscar pauses, trying to find the right words. “He basically said … I don’t know. That it must be … hard. You know, because you’re, uh, smaller than me.”
Your lips press together, a faint blush creeping up your neck as the meaning hits. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Oscar lets out a breath, rubbing his palms over his jeans. “I didn’t think much of it at first, but now I can’t stop … noticing it.”
There’s a beat of silence between you, the kind that feels heavier than usual.
You swallow, shifting a little on the couch to face him. “Is it weird for you?” You ask quietly. “Our size difference?”
Oscar’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “No — no, it’s not weird. It’s not like that. I’ve just … I never really thought about it before. And now it’s in my head.”
“So it’s in your head that I’m small?” You ask, a teasing edge to your voice, though there’s a hint of nervousness underneath it.
He laughs softly. “It’s not just that you’re small. It’s … everything. Like, I never thought about how I have to be careful with you. When I hold you, or when we’re … close.”
You tilt your head, curious. “You don’t think about it when we’re close?”
“I mean, I think about it,” he admits, his voice dropping. “But not in a bad way. I just-” He falters, searching for the right words. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Your heart skips a beat at his honesty, the vulnerability that’s starting to seep through the cracks. You reach out, placing a hand on his knee. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Oscar.”
“I know that,” he says, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “But I guess … sometimes I just worry that I might. Without meaning to.”
The air feels thick between you, charged with something unsaid. You chew on your bottom lip, considering his words, the way he’s looking at you now — like he’s seeing you in a new light, or maybe just realizing something that’s been there all along.
“I don’t mind that we’re different sizes,” you say quietly, and your voice is sincere, even if there’s an underlying nervousness. “I actually … I like it.”
Oscar’s eyes flicker with surprise. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You nod, your hand still resting on his knee. “I like that you’re taller, and that you can hold me, and that I feel … safe with you.”
Something shifts in Oscar’s expression. It’s subtle, but you see the way his shoulders relax, the tension that’s been building all evening starting to fade away. He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You feel safe with me?”
“Of course I do,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper now. “You’re … I don’t know. You’re so careful with me. I can feel it when we’re together.”
Oscar’s hand lingers by your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “I just … I don’t want to screw this up,” he admits, his voice raw. “I care about you too much to mess this up.”
You feel your breath hitch in your throat. “You’re not messing anything up, Oscar. You’re being … you.”
He leans in closer, his forehead almost resting against yours. “I don’t want to be weird about this,” he says softly. “But after Lando’s stupid comment, it’s like … it’s stuck in my head. And now I’m overthinking everything.”
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re overthinking it because Lando’s an idiot.”
Oscar laughs too, the sound breaking the tension a little. “Yeah, he really is.”
You shift a little closer to him, your knees brushing against his. “You don’t need to worry about our size difference,” you say gently. “I don’t.”
He nods, though there’s still a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “It’s just … I’ve never been with someone who’s, like … so much smaller than me. I don’t want to … I don’t know, hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “I trust you, Oscar. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.”
Oscar’s eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to find some reassurance in your words, something to silence the doubts that Lando’s careless joke planted in his mind. Slowly, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away — the worries, the overthinking, the stupid comments.
It’s just the two of you, and in that kiss, there’s no size difference, no hesitation. Just you and him, connected in a way that feels effortless.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his breath, warm and steady. “You’re sure?” He whispers, his voice laced with vulnerability.
You smile, your hand finding his. “I’ve never been more sure.”
Oscar lets out a breath, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”
The tension between you melts away, replaced by a quiet understanding, a mutual trust that wasn’t spoken but was felt in every word, every touch. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer, as if to prove to himself that he can hold you without worry.
And for the first time since Lando’s stupid joke, Oscar doesn’t think about the size difference. He just thinks about you, and how perfectly you fit in his arms.
***
As you and Oscar walk through the doors of your hotel suite, the adrenaline from the day still buzzes between you both. The aftermath of the Hungarian Grand Prix win feels almost surreal, hanging in the air between his excited glances and your proud smiles.
Oscar drops his race gear bag on the floor, exhaling loudly as he runs a hand through his messy hair. “God, I still can’t believe it. I actually won.”
You grin, closing the door behind you. “I told you, didn’t I? You’ve been ready for this. You’ve always been ready.”
He turns toward you, his face lighting up in a way that makes your heart skip. He looks different tonight — his usual quiet confidence magnified by the thrill of victory. There’s a hunger in his gaze, something deeper than just excitement for the race.
“It feels … different now,” he admits, stepping closer. “Like, I knew I could win, but doing it? Crossing that line first? Hearing the crowd?” He trails off, his eyes locking on yours, and for a moment, everything else in the world disappears.
You step closer, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “You were incredible out there.”
Oscar’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. His voice drops lower, more intimate. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. After the race, I just wanted to get back here. With you.”
You bite your lip, the tension between you sparking to life. There’s something in the air tonight, something that feels inevitable. The closeness, the energy — it’s all leading somewhere.
Oscar’s lips hover just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I need you,” he whispers, the rawness of his voice sending shivers down your spine.
Your response is immediate, instinctual. “Then take me.”
His mouth crashes against yours, urgent and heated, and suddenly, all the restraint he’s ever shown around you evaporates. His hands are everywhere — on your waist, in your hair, pulling you closer as if he can’t stand the space between you. You’re breathless as he backs you up toward the bed, his kisses growing more fervent, more desperate.
When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Oscar pulls away just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something deeper than you’ve seen before. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice thick with both desire and hesitation. “I don’t want to rush this.”
You’re already reaching for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
The sight of his bare chest, muscles taut and glistening under the dim hotel lights, makes your stomach flip. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but tonight it feels different. He’s yours tonight.
Oscar stares at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your body as if trying to memorize every inch of you. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing over your hips, lifting your shirt just enough to slide his hands underneath.
You shiver at the contact, leaning into him as he slowly works your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. His hands linger on your skin, tracing patterns that leave your skin tingling.
As his fingers move to unbutton your jeans, Oscar hesitates for a second. “I don’t want to … hurt you,” he says softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.
You shake your head, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. “You won’t. I trust you.”
That seems to be all the encouragement he needs. Oscar quickly strips you of your jeans, his hands trailing up and down your thighs, his gaze fixed on you like you’re the most important thing in the world. And then, for a moment, he pauses.
His eyes drop lower, and when he sees you in nothing but your underwear, something primal flashes across his face. You can see the shift in him — the boyish uncertainty replaced by something darker, more insistent.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself. His hands tremble slightly as he runs them over your hips, then slowly slides your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare, exposed for him, seems to steal his breath.
You reach out, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his jeans. “Your turn,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
Oscar quickly complies, undoing his belt and pushing his jeans down. But when he finally kicks them off, and his boxers follow, you feel your breath catch in your throat. He’s … big. Much bigger than you expected. The sight of him has your heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement flooding through you.
His size suddenly makes Lando’s stupid joke replay in your head, but instead of fear, you feel a strange sense of anticipation building inside you. The sight of him, hard and ready, only makes you want him more.
But Oscar hesitates, his eyes darting between you and himself, concern flickering in his expression. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again, his voice more serious now. “You’re so … small.”
Your lips part, a flush creeping up your neck. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure, but the truth slips out before you can stop it. “I can take it,” you whisper, your voice shaking with need. “I want it.”
Oscar’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he seems at a loss for words. His hands shake slightly as they slide up your thighs, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin between your legs. He takes his time, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours as he eases a finger inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing for a moment before you relax into his touch. “Are you okay?”
You nod quickly, your breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. “I’m okay,” you manage to say, your voice breathless. “Please, Oscar. Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He adds another finger, his movements slow and steady as he works you open, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to make you writhe beneath him. Your body arches off the bed, your hands gripping the sheets as you try to hold on to the edge of your sanity.
“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his brows furrowing in concentration. “I need to make sure you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” you breathe, though your voice is shaky with both nerves and desire.
Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he continues to stretch you with his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats, his voice a mix of concern and restraint.
You bite your lip, your body trembling with anticipation. “I know. But I want you, Oscar. I want all of you.”
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, he pauses, as if weighing the gravity of what’s about to happen. But then he nods, his eyes locking on yours as he finally positions himself between your legs. His hands grip your hips, his touch firm but gentle.
“Are you sure?” He asks one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes,” you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”
Oscar takes a deep breath, and then, slowly — agonizingly slowly — he begins to push inside you. The stretch is immediate, and your body tenses as you feel the overwhelming pressure of him filling you. It’s more than you expected — more than you’ve ever felt before. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, and for a moment, you wonder if it’s too much.
Oscar freezes, his eyes wide with concern. “Am I hurting you?”
You shake your head quickly, though your breath is shaky. “It’s just … a lot. But I’m okay. Don’t stop.”
He bites his lip, clearly unsure, but he keeps going, inch by inch, until he’s fully inside you. The sensation is intense — painful at first, but as your body adjusts, the pain quickly morphs into something else. Something deeper. Something euphoric.
Oscar is still, hovering above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself in check. “God, you’re … you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice strained. “I can feel … I can see it …”
You look down, and your breath catches in your throat. You can see the outline of him, pressing against your lower stomach, and the sight is enough to send a shiver down your spine.
Oscar’s eyes are glued to the sight as well, his hands gripping your hips tighter. “Holy … I can see myself inside you,” he breathes, his voice thick with awe. “I’m not hurting you?”
You shake your head, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and disbelief. “No. It feels … it feels incredible.”
He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes darkening as he slowly pulls back, only to push into you again, the movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and controlled at first, but growing more urgent as the pleasure builds between you.
Oscar’s breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes never leaving the sight of himself inside you. “You’re so … perfect,” he groans, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re real.”
Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His movements grow more desperate, the tension between you building to an almost unbearable intensity. Your body is on fire, every nerve alight as he fills you completely. You can feel him so deep, every inch of him stretching you in ways you’ve never experienced before.
And then, just as the pressure becomes too much, you tip over the edge.
Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing around him, muscles tightening and pulsing in rhythmic waves. The pleasure is blinding, sharp, your breath hitching as you cry out his name. You’ve never felt anything like it, the intensity of the release leaving you shaking beneath him, your legs trembling as you clutch at his shoulders.
The sudden tightening of your body around him pulls a deep groan from Oscar’s throat, and you feel him lose control. His thrusts falter, becoming erratic as he buries himself inside you one last time. His jaw clenches, his eyes squeezed shut as his own orgasm rips through him. His release is overwhelming — hot and thick, spilling into you with an intensity that leaves you both breathless.
Oscar collapses against you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he gasps for air. You can feel him still twitching inside you, the last remnants of his orgasm making him shudder against your body. He’s still buried deep, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you so completely it almost feels unreal.
You’re both silent for a moment, just breathing together, the weight of what just happened settling between you. Then, slowly, Oscar lifts his head, his eyes hazy and dazed as he looks down at you.
“Are you okay?” He whispers, his voice rough, concern flickering in his eyes even as he struggles to catch his breath.
You nod, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “I’m more than okay.”
His gaze softens, and his hand moves down to your stomach, where you can feel an odd fullness, a strange weight that wasn’t there before. His palm rests over your belly, and when you both look down, you see it — the way your stomach has a slight bulge, rounded out from how much he’s filled you.
Oscar’s eyes widen, his hand pressing down gently as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “I … did I do that?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
You bite your lip, heat flooding your cheeks as you nod. “I think so.”
A low groan escapes him, his eyes glued to the sight of your swollen belly. “Jesus … that’s … fuck, that’s so hot,” he mutters, almost to himself, his hand rubbing slow, gentle circles over the small bump.
His obsession with it sends a new wave of heat through you. The feeling of being so full, so utterly claimed by him, is intoxicating. You reach down, covering his hand with yours, pressing it harder against your belly. “You like it?” You ask, teasingly, though you already know the answer.
Oscar’s eyes flash up to yours, dark and filled with something primal. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anything like this. I can’t … I can’t stop looking at it.”
He keeps rubbing your belly, his fingers tracing over the slight rise, his gaze fixed on the way your body holds all of him. You shiver beneath his touch, the sensation of his hand against your skin sending jolts of pleasure through you. You can feel him starting to soften inside you, but there’s still a delicious fullness that leaves you squirming, your body craving more despite how completely wrecked you feel.
Oscar seems to notice, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand trails lower, his fingers brushing against your sensitive clit. You gasp, your body jerking in response, and he smiles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.
“You’re still sensitive,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your bundle of nerves with gentle pressure. “I can feel it.”
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he continues to tease you, his movements slow and deliberate. “Oscar …” you breathe, your voice trembling. “I don’t think I can …”
But you can. The tension in your body builds again so quickly, it’s almost dizzying. His touch is relentless, his thumb rubbing slow, firm circles that drive you insane. The combination of the fullness in your belly and the stimulation at your core is overwhelming, your body teetering on the edge of another orgasm before you can even process it.
“I can feel how tight you still are,” Oscar whispers, his voice husky as he watches you squirm beneath him. “God, you’re so perfect.”
His words, his touch, the sight of him above you — it’s all too much. Your body arches off the bed, a sharp cry escaping your lips as you fall over the edge again, your second orgasm hitting you harder than the first. The pleasure is intense, bordering on painful as your muscles contract around him, your body shaking with the force of it.
Oscar groans, his hand still rubbing slow circles over your belly as he watches you come undone beneath him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
You gasp for air, your body trembling as the waves of pleasure slowly subside, leaving you feeling utterly spent. Oscar finally stops his teasing, his hand still resting on your belly as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Are you okay?” He asks again, his voice gentle, almost tender.
You nod, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “Yeah … more than okay.”
He chuckles softly, shifting his weight to lie beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. His hand remains on your belly, though, still fascinated by the slight swell he’s caused.
“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.
You turn to face him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “I’m the lucky one,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection for him.
For a while, you both just lie there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of what just happened settling in. There’s no rush, no urgency — just the quiet intimacy of being together after something so intense.
Oscar’s hand continues to rub slow, soothing circles over your belly, and you feel yourself slowly drifting toward sleep, your body completely relaxed and satisfied. Just before you drift off, you hear Oscar’s soft voice in your ear, filled with quiet wonder.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how perfectly you fit me.”
And in that moment, you know that nothing has ever felt more right.
***
The morning light filters through the curtains, casting soft rays of sunlight across the hotel room. You stir in the bed, blinking your eyes open, the haze of sleep still thick in your mind. As you stretch, your entire body reminds you of the events from the night before. Every muscle feels heavy, a delicious soreness radiating from deep within you. You smile to yourself, the memory of Oscar’s hands on your body, his whispers in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.
Your bladder protests, urging you out of bed, but as soon as you shift to swing your legs over the side of the bed, a sharp jolt of soreness runs up your thighs. You pause, blinking in confusion, then try again — more gingerly this time. Your legs are stiff, the muscles weak and uncooperative as you push yourself to stand.
You barely make it two steps before your legs give out beneath you.
The floor rushes up to meet you, and with a soft thud, you crumple into a heap on the carpet. A surprised gasp escapes your lips, and before you can process what’s happened, Oscar is jolting awake beside you.
“Shit — what was that?” He mumbles groggily, but the second he sees you on the floor, his eyes go wide, panic flashing across his face. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
He’s out of bed in an instant, rushing to your side, his hands gripping your shoulders as he kneels next to you. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
You can’t help but laugh softly, though your body feels like it’s been through a marathon. “I’m fine, I just …” You bite your lip, wincing as you try to shift. “I guess my legs don’t really work right now.”
Oscar’s brows furrow in concern, and he gently lifts you, pulling you into his arms and carrying you back to the bed like you weigh nothing. “What do you mean your legs don’t work?” His voice is tight, laced with worry, and he lays you down carefully, as if he’s afraid you’ll break.
You groan softly as you sink back into the mattress, your legs still trembling from the effort. “I’m just … really sore. Like, everywhere.”
Oscar’s face pales, and you can see the guilt washing over him in an instant. “Oh my God, I hurt you, didn’t I?” His voice is barely a whisper, his hands hovering over you as if he’s afraid to touch you again. “I knew I was too rough. I knew I was too big. I’m so sorry, I-”
“Hey, no,” you interrupt, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “It’s not like that. I’m just sore from … you know.” You feel a flush creeping up your neck, but you manage a small smile. “It’s a good kind of sore.”
Oscar shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “No, no, this isn’t okay. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I should’ve been more careful.”
You let out a soft laugh, though it’s strained as you shift slightly in bed. “Oscar, I’m fine. Really. I feel amazing, actually. This is just … the aftermath.” You wiggle your toes experimentally, and while the soreness is still there, it’s more of a reminder of the pleasure you felt last night than actual pain.
Oscar isn’t convinced. He sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “You couldn’t even walk this morning because of me,” he mutters, his voice low and filled with guilt. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
The tenderness in his voice makes your heart ache, and you sit up slowly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Oscar, you didn’t hurt me,” you say softly. “You made me feel incredible. Yes, I’m sore, but it’s because of how good it was. Not because you did anything wrong.”
He looks up at you, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I mean, you literally fell out of bed.”
You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “Yeah, well … maybe that’s just proof of how well you did.”
A flicker of amusement crosses his face, but the worry still lingers. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
You shake your head, your hand moving to rest on his thigh. “No. I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve never felt like that before, Oscar. You didn’t hurt me — you made me feel alive.”
His expression softens at your words, but you can still see the guilt etched in the lines of his face. He exhales slowly, his hand covering yours on his thigh. “I just … I don’t want to ever do something that makes you feel like you can’t even move the next day.”
“Well,” you say, biting your lip playfully, “if it’s the kind of thing that leaves me this sore, I think I could get used to it.” You wink at him, trying to lighten the mood, but Oscar’s eyes widen, and he groans.
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
You laugh softly, wincing at the tightness in your hips as you shift again. “I mean, there are worse ways to be sore. Besides, this is kind of your fault. You can make it up to me.”
Oscar’s brows furrow in confusion. “How?”
You give him a mischievous look. “By doing it all over again and making sure I can never walk properly again.”
He blinks at you, momentarily stunned. “You’re joking, right?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
Oscar stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I — but … you’re already sore.”
You lean back against the pillows, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. “Exactly. So you might as well make it count.”
For a second, he’s speechless. Then, his lips twitch, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re serious?”
You nod, biting your lip to hide your grin. “Very.”
He laughs, the sound low and warm, and you can see the tension start to melt away from his shoulders. “You’re unbelievable.”
You shrug, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a high pain tolerance. Besides, I think I deserve a little reward after surviving last night, don’t you?”
Oscar’s smile fades slightly, and he looks at you with a mix of affection and disbelief. “You’re really okay?”
You nod, your hand squeezing his thigh again. “More than okay, Oscar. I’m serious — I want you again. Even if it leaves me sore for a week.”
His expression softens, and he leans down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “You’re something else, you know that?”
You grin up at him. “I try.”
Oscar’s hand trails down your side, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as if testing how much you can handle. “I don’t want to push you too hard,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your temple.
“You’re not pushing me,” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want this.”
He hesitates for a moment, then nods, his hand moving lower, tracing over your stomach and down between your legs. The touch is featherlight, testing, but even that small contact sends a shiver through your body.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Oscar says, his voice low and serious, but you can already feel the heat building between you again, and the soreness fades into the background of your mind, overwhelmed by the need rising in you.
“I will,” you breathe, already arching into his touch.
Oscar’s lips find yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more urgent as the tension between you sparks back to life. His hand slides lower, teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes, and you can feel yourself growing wet again, your body responding to him despite the lingering ache.
He pulls back, his eyes searching yours. “You really want to do this again?”
You nod, breathless. “I need you.”
That’s all it takes for Oscar to give in. He shifts above you, his body pressing against yours as he positions himself between your legs. The weight of him is comforting, familiar, and despite the soreness, you crave the feeling of him filling you again.
Oscar moves slowly, carefully, but the stretch is just as intense as last night. You gasp as he pushes inside, your body still adjusting to the sheer size of him, but it’s not painful this time — just overwhelming in the best way.
“Oh my God,” Oscar groans, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he pushes deeper. “You’re still so tight.”
You can only moan in response, your body trembling as he moves inside you, the pleasure building quickly despite the soreness in your muscles. The mix of discomfort and ecstasy is intoxicating, and soon, you’re lost in the rhythm of his thrusts, your mind blank except for the sensation of him filling you completely.
Oscar’s hands grip your hips, his movements growing more urgent as he finds his rhythm. You can tell he’s holding back, trying not to hurt you, but even with the restraint, the intensity of it all has you teetering on the edge again.
“You’re so perfect,” Oscar murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”
You shudder beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel yourself nearing the edge once again. “Don’t stop,” you gasp, your body arching into his as the pleasure coils tight inside you, threatening to snap.
Oscar groans in response, his pace picking up, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, until you're barely holding on. You can feel the intensity building between you, the friction, the connection driving you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tighter, his breath hot against your neck as he murmurs, “God, you feel so good. I could do this forever.”
The words send a thrill through you, and you grip him harder, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Oscar,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure inside you mounts, overwhelming, unstoppable.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he drives into you again, deeper than before. “Come for me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire. “I want to feel you.”
That’s all it takes. His words send you spiraling, your body clenching around him as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. You cry out, your legs trembling, your hands gripping him as tight as you can, pulling him closer as your entire body shakes with the force of your release.
Oscar groans as your body tightens around him, his control slipping as he watches you fall apart beneath him. His rhythm falters, then he pushes deep one last time, his release hitting with a shudder as he spills inside you. His breath is ragged, his body trembling as he holds himself over you, the weight of his body grounding you as the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse through you.
For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath. Oscar collapses against you, his head resting on your chest as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, a soft, satisfied smile on your lips as the warmth of his body soothes your soreness.
After a long silence, he finally speaks, his voice soft and a little shaky. “You … okay?”
You laugh softly, your body feeling like it’s been thoroughly worked over, but in the best way possible. “Yeah,” you whisper, brushing his hair back. “More than okay.”
He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes filled with affection but also a hint of lingering concern. “I didn’t hurt you?”
You shake your head, smiling up at him. “No, you didn’t hurt me. You were perfect.”
He relaxes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
You hum in contentment, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all. “Just make sure I can walk by tomorrow, okay?”
Oscar chuckles, his hand trailing down to your hip as he pulls you close. “No promises.”
***
Oscar steps out of the car first, scanning the airstrip where McLaren’s private jet waits. His brow furrows slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. The morning sun is harsh, casting long shadows on the tarmac, but his focus is entirely on you. He turns back, opening the car door carefully, like he’s preparing for something delicate.
You wince as you try to swing your legs out of the car. The soreness from last night has reached a whole new level, and every movement feels like your muscles are made of lead. You’d tried standing when you first woke up, but it was a no-go. Now, as you attempt to shift out of the car, it’s confirmed: you really can’t walk.
Oscar leans down, his hands gently coming to rest on your hips. “Ready?” His voice is soft, a little sheepish, like he’s still not over the guilt from earlier.
“Do I have a choice?” You joke, though your body aches in a way that’s both painful and satisfying, a reminder of last night’s passion.
He gives you a small smile, his eyes soft as he reaches under your knees and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest as he straightens up.
“Okay, this is officially ridiculous,” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder, half-embarrassed, half-amused.
Oscar chuckles, holding you close. “You’re the one who said you wanted to make sure you couldn’t walk properly again.”
You lift your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d take it so literally.”
He grins, but you can see the hint of worry still lingering in his eyes. “Too late now. Besides, I think I might enjoy this.”
“You enjoy having to carry me across an airstrip in front of your entire team?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light, though you know it’s about to get a lot more embarrassing once people start noticing.
Oscar shrugs, shifting you slightly in his arms as he starts walking toward the jet. “I enjoy taking care of you.”
You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your earlier embarrassment fading. He’s so earnest, so gentle, even now, and it’s hard to feel anything but safe in his arms.
As you near the jet, you can already see the crew milling around, loading luggage and prepping for departure. And, of course, Lando is leaning casually against the stairs leading up to the plane, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as soon as he spots the two of you.
“Well, well, well,” Lando calls out, his voice full of teasing glee. “What do we have here? Oscar playing the hero?”
You groan softly, burying your face in Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please no,” you mutter under your breath.
Oscar doesn’t slow down as he approaches, though you can feel his body tense slightly. He’s protective, even if he’s trying to laugh it off. “Don’t start, Lando,” he warns, though there’s a playful edge to his voice.
But Lando’s never been one to back off, especially when there’s an opportunity to tease his teammate. He pushes off the stairs and stands directly in front of you two, hands on his hips. “What, did she trip or something? Or is this …” He pauses dramatically, raising an eyebrow. “Is this because of Sunday night?”
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks immediately. You’ve had your fair share of teasing from Lando before, but this — this is next-level mortifying. Oscar adjusts his hold on you slightly, and you can feel the subtle tightening of his grip, like he’s shielding you from whatever’s coming.
“Lando,” Oscar says, his tone warning, but not harsh. “Seriously.”
But Lando’s not done. His eyes dart between you and Oscar, and his grin widens. “Wait — wait. Hold on. Is she not able to walk?”
You don’t say anything, but your silence must be enough because Lando’s grin fades, replaced by a look of genuine shock. “Oh my God. You’re actually serious.”
Oscar’s jaw tightens, and he shifts you in his arms again, turning slightly like he’s ready to move past Lando and end this conversation. But Lando steps closer, his playful demeanor slipping into something more serious as he realizes the situation is … real.
“Mate,” Lando says, his voice lower now, almost incredulous. “Did you … I mean, you didn’t-”
“No,” Oscar cuts him off quickly, his voice firm but not defensive. “I didn’t hurt her.”
You peek out from Oscar’s shoulder, meeting Lando’s wide-eyed gaze. “I’m fine,” you add, trying to inject some normalcy back into the situation. “It’s just … you know.”
Lando’s brows shoot up. “I really don’t know.”
You laugh softly despite yourself. “Well, I’m not hurt. Just … sore.”
Lando’s mouth opens and closes as if he’s trying to find the right words, but for once, he’s speechless. He glances between you and Oscar, and then shakes his head, half in disbelief, half in amusement.
“I mean, I’ve heard of being ‘swept off your feet,’ but this …” Lando trails off, his eyes flicking down to your legs, which you’re certain look completely useless at this point. “This is next level.”
Oscar rolls his eyes, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You done?”
Lando lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just saying — next time, maybe leave her able to walk? Just a suggestion.”
You groan, leaning your forehead against Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please make him stop.”
Oscar chuckles, squeezing you gently. “Lando, I swear, if you don’t move, I’m going to drop her on you.”
Lando steps aside, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. But seriously,” he adds, glancing at you with a smirk. “You two should probably invest in some crutches.”
You shoot him a withering look, but there’s no malice behind it. “You’re not funny.”
“I disagree,” Lando grins. “I’m hilarious.”
Oscar shakes his head, moving past Lando and toward the stairs. As he climbs up, still carrying you effortlessly, you whisper, “I’m never living this down, am I?”
Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Probably not.”
By the time he settles you down in one of the plush seats on the jet, the soreness in your legs has turned into a dull throb. You sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh, stretching out as much as you can without wincing. Oscar sits beside you, his hand immediately resting on your thigh, a silent check-in.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again, his brow still slightly furrowed.
“I promise,” you say, reaching for his hand. “I mean, yes, I probably won’t be running any marathons anytime soon, but it’s worth it.”
Oscar gives you a lopsided smile, but the concern doesn’t fully leave his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d actually-”
You cut him off, squeezing his hand. “Oscar, stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I’m the one who asked for it.”
His cheeks flush slightly, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Still.”
You lean closer, brushing your lips against his. “It was perfect,” you murmur softly. “You’re perfect.”
He exhales, some of the tension finally leaving his body as he leans into your kiss. “If you say so.”
“I do,” you whisper against his lips, then lean back with a grin. “Now, how are you going to carry me once we land?”
Oscar laughs, a sound that’s light and warm. “I’ll figure it out.”
From across the aisle, Lando chimes in, “Just get a wheelchair. Might be worth the investment if this is going to be a common occurrence.”
You throw a pillow at him. “Shut up, Lando.”
But deep down, despite the teasing and the soreness, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.
2K notes · View notes
adieutristana · 7 days ago
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Hii
Can you make Arcane women X Reader who became blind or deaf in an accident trying to protect them?
I love your writing and sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language
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of course! thank you for the request, and your kind words <3
disclaimer that i am neither blind nor deaf but chose deaf because i know it better (family members). i tried my best but the last thing i want to do is be disrespectful, please let me know if you have any feedback.
summary; headcanons of arcane women with fem! reader who went deaf protecting them.
characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.
warnings/tags; mentions of war/combat, injury, medical talk (mel), hurt/comfort, fluff
men dni.
jinx;
✧.* your first time being caught in crossfire was nothing short of terrifying. jinx's ego is inflated beyond belief, even going as far as to say she just can't seem to die. but it doesn't make you any less fearful for her safety, or more importantly, her life.
✧.* she's got another enforcer on her back, chasing her through the lanes as she repeatedly tries to fire her gun to fend them off. it's not seeming to work, though. she's panting, her legs threatening to give out underneath her, but she can't stop moving. not now.
✧.* you happen to be walking by after running an errand, and seeing jinx zip past you is concerning, to say the least. you decide to shift gears to follow after her, clutching a bag of produce to your chest as you run. but god, jinx is fast.
✧.* you finally manage to catch up to jinx, long, blue braids trailing behind her as a sort of unintentional tracker.
✧.* "jinx- jinx, what's going on?"
✧.* "damn enforcer... won't leave me alone... it'll be fine, i've got this taken care of." she says through gritted teeth, weaving in and out of different alleyways with expert speed.
✧.* the enforcer is approaching behind the two of you, closer and closer. you forcefully take jinx's elbow and shove her behind you, fully blocking her body. and then, the impact.
✧.* you're not even sure what happened- just the next thing you know, there's an enforcer with several holes in their body, and jinx is knelt in front of you. trying to speak to you, but it's like the world's gone silent.
✧.* "what? i don't understand... what's going on," you mutter, half to yourself, and half to jinx. but you quickly realize that you can't hear yourself speaking, and you can't hear her voice, despite the fact that she looks distraught over you. you're bleeding, the shock of it all stopping most of the pain, yet it just doesn't feel real.
✧.* jinx quickly grabs your shoulders and guides you back to her hideout. it's obvious that you're shaken up and in a haze, the last thing your girlfriend would want is you trying to find your way there by yourself in this state.
✧.* she sits you on a tattered couch, getting her (your) first aid kit out to hastily patch you up. you're looking at her hands working quickly on your wounds, but don't notice the fact that she's trying to ask if you're okay, if you're hurting, if you can forgive her for not being able to stop you from getting hurt. she looks up at you, dark lips pressed into a thin line. her brows are furrowed, searching your expression.
✧.* "i... can't hear anything." you say, although again, you can't hear the sound of your own voice.
✧.* jinx's eyebrows raise this time, but she quickly finishes wrapping your injuries without another word.
✧.* jinx is used to communicating non-verbally since taking in isha, but she wants to be sure of how you'd prefer to do it. first she'll make sure you don't have any lasting injuries, apologize profusely to you for everything despite going unheard. then, she'll start writing things down for you to tell you.
✧.* before long, you and jinx are making your own system of signs. you'd had to take up sign language classes, but jinx wanted to be able to communicate with you more intimately. whether you wanted to speak to her or no longer speak at all, she wants you to have that option.
✧.* 100% blasts her music even louder when you're around. she'd read something about deaf people being able to enjoy music via vibrations of the floor, so she keeps that in mind. most of the time she just plays 'get jinxed,' but the thought is there.
✧.* jinx ultimately just wants to help you get back on your feet and adjust after the accident. she thanks you profusely for protecting her like that, apologizing in the same breaths. naturally, some things in your lives will have to change, but she just wants you to be able to get back to living your life.
vi;
✧.* being with vi means being okay with her coming home with various bruises, cuts, scrapes, even sprains and broken bones from time to time. she can't always explain every injury, memory fuzzy from the series of events the day held. but regardless, she'll let you wrap her up, massage her, take care of her. it's nice to be doted on for a change.
✧.* vi's one and only strict rule is that you are not allowed to get involved in any of the fighting she does. even if it's something as seemingly harmless as standing before the council, you can never truly know what'll happen. you stay home, or at work, anywhere but where vi is getting into a fight. the last thing she wants is to see you hurt the way she gets hurt.
✧.* but this time, you decided not to listen. go behind your girlfriend's back. she's got a particularly dangerous job in the lanes, something about negotiation...? but it's the person she's negotiating with that worries you. so you decide to trail behind vi, staying a few feet behind her so that she doesn't notice you. it's harmless just this once, right? it's not like you're actually fighting, you're just making sure she's okay.
✧.* at first, things seem to be going well. a famous dealer of shimmer, someone she's decided to try and take on in an effort to slow the supply in zaun. you can't make out anything they're saying, but no punches are being thrown. that's always a good thing.
✧.* until they are.
✧.* vi has her gauntlets, striking and dodging with expert speed. you've seen vi before in pit fights that she allowed you to attend, but it always surprises you just how strong the girl is. she's like the human equivalent of a tank.
✧.* you inch closer, until you're peeking out from behind a corner at vi and the man. she seems to be holding her own so far, but you can't help the overwhelming dread enveloping you.
✧.* a punch is thrown by the man that makes your heart drop, and you immediately rush to jump in front of vi, guarding her with your body.
✧.* "babe, what are you doing-" she gasps, before you're hit several times, over and over. her eyes blown wide, vi leaves your side for just a moment to take the man down. she understands now that it's pointless, someone like this can't be reasoned with. she's not sure why she even tried, especially seeing you hurt like this.
✧.* vi kneels down beside you, wrapping both arms around you before quickly helping you up. she takes one of your arms around her shoulder, supporting your weight as she brings you home. she doesn't try to pry, try to talk to you, her mind focused on just getting you to safety.
✧.* the second she gets you through the door, vi sits you down on your bed, grabbing a kit to patch you up. still silent, still focused, her eyes unmoving. she seems strangely stoic, but you chalk it up to her just being absorbed in what she's doing.
✧.* finally, she looks up at you, and asks, "do you feel alright, baby?"
✧.* you furrow your brows, trying to make out what she's asking you, but you simply can't. everything is silent, and you don't know why, and you wish so badly to hear her voice. your lips are parted, but no words come out.
✧.* "baby?"
✧.* "i... everything is quiet." you mutter. vi’s eyes go wide, but she immediately catches onto what you’re saying- and scrambles for any way that she can talk to you. writing at first, but she listens intently as you speak and tell her exactly what you need. her first priority is helping you heal from your external injuries, her second is to help you adjust.
✧.* vi wasn’t really given a formal education, but she will seek out a local class or group so that she can learn sign language for you. the last thing she wants is to not be able to properly communicate with you. given, she doesn’t know much about deafness or hearing loss, but she’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re able to get back on your feet.
✧.* generally, though, she tries not to mention the accident too much. she knows it’s a sore spot for you, and she also doesn’t want to reduce you to the fact that you lost your hearing. you’re still the same girl that she fell in love with.
✧.* however, vi is eternally grateful for the way you protected her that day. she doesn’t know what could’ve happened to her if you didn’t.
mel;
✧.* it happened during the attack on the council.
✧.* you were overseeing the meeting regarding the independence of zaun, a peace treaty of sorts. your girlfriend frequently invited you to sit in on meetings, saying that it was important for you to be aware of what’s going on in the city. part of you thinks she just wants an excuse to spend more time with you, though.
✧.* one second you're watching spotlights flicker as council members make their decisions, the next second you hear glass shattering and screams. you're throwing yourself over mel's form to soften the blow to her. and then- nothing.
✧.* you wake up in a stiff bed, your back feeling as if it's on fire, various tubes and wires sticking out of you. you look around, vision clouded, taking in your surroundings. a bland-looking room with white curtains, the air dry, a vase of flowers on a table, and a chair beside your bed. with mel sitting in it.
✧.* "darling, you're awake," she breathes out, reaching for your hand. she wants more than anything to bring you close, to hold you to her and never let go, but she can't do that right now. not while you're in this condition.
✧.* you squeeze her hand, but you don't register what she's said. you can't hear anything, in fact, and it's... strange.
✧.* you just look at mel, your expression still. she's searching for something, anything.
✧.* "...please, darling, say something."
✧.* "i can't hear you, mel." you state.
✧.* it doesn't take long for mel to catch onto what's happened, likely due to how many tragedies she's seen in her life. she's seen people lose their vision, movement in their bodies, limbs, and their hearing.
✧.* mel squeezes your hand back, a pained look in her eyes, but she's just grateful that this is the worst thing that came of the explosion. her first priority is getting all of your external wounds healed, getting you back to a state where she can finally take you home and hold you the way she aches to.
✧.* in the meantime, mel hires one of the best sign tutors in piltover (she can't be bothered to take a group class) to teach both you and her. the last thing she wants is for you two to not be able to communicate, even if you insist that you can (sometimes) read her lips.
✧.* the second the doctor says you're in good enough health to go home, mel is gathering your things and rushing you home. she's fussing over you, making sure you're okay to walk after being in bed for so long, peppering your face with gentle kisses and no doubt leaving some of her lip gloss behind.
✧.* mel does still want you to sit in on council meetings, despite everything. internally, she feels horrible for your sacrifice and selflessness. but she doesn't bring it up- she doesn't want for you to feel guilty or bring up any bad memories. she does hire an interpreter to sit in as well, so that you can still follow along.
✧.* mel also is careful to let you know that she's in the room before touching you. one of her favorite things used to be wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, nestling her face into the crook of your neck and pressing gentle kisses to sensitive skin. but she realizes that may startle you now, so she'll make sure that you can see her before doing anything.
✧.* your girlfriend overall is just very caring, very doting, as always. she's always been an attentive and devoted lover, wanting to make sure that you're comfortable and most importantly happy.
sevika;
✧.* it was during the rally in zaun, near vander's statue. all was well, you were stood next to your girlfriend as she spoke to a crowd of various groups- jinxers, traders, silco's former allies... your hand on the small of her back to reassure her as she spoke.
✧.* until enforcers raided the rally, full tactical gear and brute force. the crowd immediately disperses, some being thrown to the ground, others shoved against fences and handcuffed- and the second a spear was thrown at sevika, you knew you had to do something.
✧.* sevika was always insistent that you allow her to do the hard work. she's used to defending others, throwing herself in the face of danger and taking the worst of everything. she did it for silco, she did it for jinx, hell, she does it for you.
✧.* before she could protest or push you out of the way, you were throwing yourself in front of sevika, taking all of the blows directed at her. the instant she realized what you were doing, she was gripping your shoulders, trying to shove you away from her, saying "i've got this, move," and asking what the hell you think you're doing. but you won't budge.
✧.* you just keep taking it, hit after hit, wincing and screaming out in pain, but you can't bear to see sevika hurt. not anymore than she already has been.
✧.* the next moment you remember is waking up in your girlfriend's lap, her cradling your head, brows knitted together in painful concern. it hurts her to see you like this. the second you begin to blink your eyes open, she's holding you close to her chest.
✧.* she pulls back slightly to look at you, just taking in your features. god, sevika is just so grateful that you're alive, that you aren't hurt too badly. you're bruised, you were beaten, you have a few cuts and gashes, but it seems like she's gotten those cleaned up while you were unconscious.
✧.* "dove? are you okay? please, talk to me."
✧.* you wince slightly, your lips parted. sevika is trying to say... something, but you're not able to understand any of it.
✧.* "i don't- i don't understand..." you breathe out, and then you realize that you can't hear your own voice either.
✧.* "what don't you understand?" she asks, but you still can't quite make out what she's asking you. what you can see is that her expression is growing more and more frantic.
✧.* "i can't hear you, sev. i can't... hear anything." you say, hoping to god she understands what you're getting at.
✧.* her eyes widen, but sevika's expression quickly softens. she knows more than most people do what it's like to lose something in battle, having lost an arm protecting silco from one of powder's bombs nearly a decade ago. she sighs, pressing her lips into a thin line, and nods. she doesn't say anything further, but helps you onto your feet so that she can make sure you're fully there after being out for so long.
✧.* first thing she does the next morning is seek out some kind of resources for sign language. she's not the type of woman to take formal classes normally, so she'll stop by the only (run down) public library in zaun and begin to teach herself. it does take some time, but she gets there, and eventually she's at your level (although you went to an actual class).
✧.* similar to mel, she'll let you know that she's in the room before touching you in any way. one of sevika's favorite things to do is brush the small of your back from behind, give you lingering touches in the morning after she's woken up and you're already cooking breakfast. but she knows you'd probably jump out of your skin now that you can't hear her behind you, so she'll do whatever she can to avoid that.
✧.* as i've said many times, i do imagine that sevika is a pretty soft and gentle lover the majority of the time. this transcends into this, but above all, she wants you to just adjust. life goes on, you learn how to live with what you've lost and work around it. she knows that very well from experience.
caitlyn;
✧.* you were caught in crossfire of one of the many shootouts between noxian forces and piltover's soldiers. you had never been a violent or confrontational person, preferring to watch from the sidelines and let your girlfriend take care of the dirty work. that didn't mean that you didn't have opinions, but you opted to stay behind the scenes.
✧.* lately, though, caitlyn has been coming home with worse and worse injuries. at first it was a few cuts, a few gashes, but then it's stab wounds, bullet holes in her arms and sides. it's a miracle how she hasn't been vitally wounded, but you don't want to wait until that actually does happen.
✧.* so one day, you insist on letting you come with her. caitlyn tries to protest, tries to persuade you to just stay home, or go out to local shops, or take yourself out to eat, anything but putting yourself in the face of violence with her. but you're relentless, you won't have any of it- so finally, she gives in.
✧.* "stay at a distance, okay? the last thing that i want is for you to get beaten up like i do."
✧.* you try to listen, you really do. but with ambessa, noxian forces, soldiers coming at caitlyn and topside's soldiers from all directions, it's hard to not want to do something. the battle is getting more heated, caitlyn moves with frightening speed and accuracy. but it's not enough, not this time.
✧.* your eyes don't know where to look, don't know what to focus on. you can hardly keep up with everything, especially from where you're standing, but you finally decide to step in. you can't bear to see caitlyn get hurt anymore, and you can't even begin to comprehend the idea of losing her because of this.
✧.* it all goes by in a flash. you in front of caitlyn, the woman screaming your name, being shoved to the ground, sharp pains, then nothing.
✧.* you wake up in caitlyn's bed, surrounded by bouquets she got you and with her sitting on the edge of the bed. the second that she registers you're regaining consciousness, she can only smile down at you with tears pricking at her eyes.
✧.* "oh, thank gods you're awake," she breathes out, immediately reaching to take your hand and intertwine your fingers with hers, calloused thumb running across the back of your hand.
✧.* what's strange is that you can feel caitlyn's hand against yours, you can see her lips moving, but you can't hear anything, and it's driving you crazy. clearly she's trying to say something to you, but it's inaudible. everything is.
✧.* she furrows her brows, waiting for your response. normally, you don't take this long, but you're just... staring at her, your expression unmoving.
✧.* "dear?" she asks, her face growing visibly worried.
✧.* "i don't know what you're trying to say, cait, i- i'm sorry." you whisper. "i can't hear a thing."
✧.* caitlyn is a smart girl. she takes a moment to process what you've said, but it does click in her mind pretty quickly. you've lost your hearing. a million thoughts swirl through her head, about learning how to effectively communicate with you, how to adjust around this, but she can't get ahead of herself. she just sighs, gently brushing her lips against your forehead and letting you continue to rest.
✧.* however, similar to mel, caitlyn hires a sign teacher to teach both of you. cait is very immersed, practicing with you whenever possible. it's not only a good bonding experience, but it helps her be able to accommodate you better.
✧.* absolutely doesn't let you go on any more missions with her, though. not that you'd ask- but if you did, the answer would be an immediate no. neither of you really speak about what you did that day.
✧.* caitlyn is grateful that you jumped in to defend her, knowing she likely would've suffered worse in her own wounded state. but it's a sore spot for both of you.
✧.* caitlyn is also very well-researched, so she does go to some archives to read about hearing loss and how to build something around it. that's all she wants for you, really, to be able to make something out of this. she doesn't want to coddle you, doesn't want to give you sympathy that she knows you don't need. she's grateful that you came out the other end with your life intact.
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flwrstqr · 10 months ago
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CALL ME YOURS !! (LHS - 이희승)
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SYNOPSIS: ever since you broke up with your ex, choi jiho, who cheated on you with another girl, you have always wanted to get revenge. when you meet jiho again at school, to prove you were over him and had met a better man, you told him you were meeting someone. you lied and told him you were meeting a random guy who you pointed at on your school's bulletin board for being the top student in the whole school. coincidentally, that guy was lee heeseung, known for his quiet and smart personality. then jiho demands to meet him in real life, hand-in-hand with you, which now you have a huge problem. first, you have to find heeseung, and next, you have to date him.
pairing: topstudent!heeseung x popularstudentfem!reader
genre: fake dating, s2l, romance, high school au, sunshine x cold
warning(s): reader + heeseung being in denial, your ex cheated, kissing, inspired by a k-drama (i forgot which one), two of them being awfully awkward at first, swearing, grammar errors, party, lots of love confusions, does say that winter is dating beomgyu, punching, fighting
word count: 7k
AN: guys im back with a long au, i never really write long aus, so this is slightly new to me. i did proofread it but not super thoroughly so if i made any mistakes, my bad for that .
taglist: @yenqa @mylstserenade @jlheon @naespas @jooniesbears-blog @erehkinnie30 @wonifullove @miumiuisme @shawnyle @dimplewonie @beomluvrr @jiaant11 @teddywonss
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ALL YOU WANTED WAS REVENGE. Sweet revenge against your idiotic ex, Choi Jiho.You remember the moment you walked into the girls locker room to go deliver something to your PE coach, only to find the room “empty”. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you stumbled upon Jiho, locking lips with your “supposed” best friend, Kim Haeun, in the girl’s locker room Lip on lip, eyes closed, moving in sync. Heart shattered, tears streaming, you bolted, tripping over a basket of equipment and scraping your knees quickly catching attention of Jiho. His voice trailed after you, calling your name as you fled into the distance.
Losing both your best friend and your boyfriend cut deep. Being single was one thing, but being unable to find anyone who measured up to Jiho was another.
"YN, your standards for men are too high!" Karina remarked from the bleachers during PE.
You shrugged. "They've always been high." For the past 4 months, no one was your type compared to Jiho, the perfect boyfriend in your eyes: tall, handsome, a football player, rich, and occasionally nice.
"It's because of that disgusting asshole," Ningning scoffed.
"He isn't disgusting!" you retorted.
"YN, you need to get over him. This is just becoming toxic, plus you dumped him in front of the whole school ," Giselle chimed in. She was right. You vividly recalled the moment, twenty minutes before the bell, eyes swollen from crying all night but disguised behind makeup, replaying yesterday's scene you witnessed in your mind.
"YN!" Jiho's voice snapped you back to reality, his figure rushing towards you.
"Can we talk?" he asked, breathless.
"Talk about how you fucking cheated on me? Fine, I'll hear you out," you yelled, drawing everyone's attention.
"Can you keep it down, YN?" Jiho snapped.
"Sure I’ll quiet it down when I want to. Go to your girlfriend, Haeun. Why does she have to be my best friend, out of all people?" you glared.
"YN, let's talk inside," Jiho groaned, irritated.
"No, we're done. I never wanted you anyway, you asshole. Just fuck off," you spat, the words stinging even as they left your mouth The next thing you knew the scene spreaded like wildfire at school.
"Are you okay?" Minjeong asked as you sobbed at the lunch table.
"Listen, YN, Jiho wasn't worth it. You saw what you saw," Karina tried to console.
"I don't know... it's just over now," you murmured, head in your hands.
"Maybe it's a sign to find someone better," Ningning suggested.
"I don't know..." you whispered, feeling lost, unable to move on.
“I’m for sure there’s someone way better than him.” Giselle added (biggest lie you ever heard).
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MONTHS PASSED AND YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE LIBRARY, lending a hand to the librarian in organizing books before school started. As you went about your duties, dropping off books and preparing to fetch more, the one and only, Jiho, stood by the school bulletin board waiting for you. It had been months since the breakup, and yet, the wound was still fresh, a constant reminder of the pain (really yn..)
"I wanted to say a word," Jiho awkwardly mumbled, eyeing you for a reaction, his hands in his pockets.
You reluctantly agreed, "Fine, make it quick. I'm busy."
"I broke up with Haeun," he stated, the words hanging in the air.
"What?" Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. 
"I ended things with Kim Haeun," he said more firmly. His words sank in, but confusion lingered. But why was he telling you this now? Then it hit you—he wanted you back. Yet, on a day when you missed him, you suddenly felt nothing. He had left you for another girl (well, technically, you dumped him), betrayed you, and now he came back because you were his second choice?
"Why are you telling me this?" You managed to maintain calm.
"I still like you, YN LN," he confessed, causing your eyes to widen. You bit your lip, before you could accept his confession like your 5 minute ago self would. Your heart didn’t thump like it did when you were around him. Your hands weren’t sweaty like they were when he looked at you before. Your mind wasn’t racing like it was when Jiho confessed to you for the first time, months ago. It was nothing like any of that–you just felt empty and cold.
"I'm seeing someone," you blurted out, realizing the lie you had just said. Crossing your fingers, you hoped he wouldn't ask about the identity of your "so-said boyfriend"
"Who?" he inquired, raising his eyebrow. Desperately searching for an excuse, your eyes landed on the bulletin board, displaying a list of top students and their ID photos.
Rushing over, you pointed at the first photo and name you saw, "That guy," you said, reading his name, "...Lee Heeseung! I'm dating him."
"Oh, really?" Jiho cast a skeptical glance between you and the photo, a smirk playing on his lips. "Then," he leaned in closer, "how about you introduce me to him, hand-in-hand, next week? I want to see if he's worthy of you." Panic rushed in you, and your throat went dry. You forced a smile and nodded in reluctant agreement.
"Sure," you replied.
"Great, see you next week," Jiho said, turning and walking away. You were officially doomed. Now, you have to find this Lee Heeseung and give him a deal.
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YOU WANDERED DURING LUNCH, TRYING TO FIND HEESEUNG. You only heard about him because he got a perfect score on the hardest SAT exams, but you didn't really pay attention.
"Heeseung? Sorry, I don’t know who he is," a girl replied when you asked her about Heeseung.
"It's okay," you smiled politely and left, feeling frustrated.
"I'll never find him," you groaned to Karina, who was with you while you asked everyone about Heeseung.
"Why did you lie to Jiho then? I thought you weren’t over him. Last night, you were giggling at how cute Jiho is and how much you want him back," Karina asked, taking a bite of her apple.
"I don’t know. He was just using me. I knew it because he and Haeun broke up," you explained, letting out a soft sigh. "He saw me as a second option, and I got into this mess because I lied to him about having a boyfriend who's probably some ugly nerd."
"I told you he was using you the entire time! But you didn’t trust me!" Karina scolded you.
"Sorry, I was just blind back then," you mumbled.
Before your last attempt, you walked up to a boy and asked the same question you’d been asking everyone.
"Do you know Lee Heeseung by any chance?" you asked. The boy's eyes widened, and a big grin spread across his face.
"Yes, I do! For what reason?" the boy quickly replied. For the first time, someone knew who he was.
"Do you know where he is then?" you inquired, hoping he could help.
"I do. I’m close friends with him. Come, I’ll show you where he is," the boy replied as you followed him, waving to Karina goodbye.
As the two of you awkwardly made up the long staircase, you arrived at the rooftop of the school. When the boy opened the door, a lonely figure sat by the table, reading a book.
"Heeseung!" the boy called out, causing the figure, supposedly Heeseung, to turn around.
"What, Jungwon?" Heeseung raised his eyebrow, quickly glancing at you and then back at Jungwon.
"YN was looking for you," Jungwon quickly said, nudging you to speak. Heeseung obviously knew who you were, known for dating Jiho and your soft-delicate visuals.
You walked towards him awkwardly, “Uhm…can we talk privately?” Slightly glancing at Jungwon, signaling him to leave quietly. As Jungwon left quietly, you cleared your throat.
“So…” you started off a bit nervous, “I need some help?”
"What help?" Heeseung answered a bit coldly, “If it’s anything studying related, I’m not interested-”
"I need help dating," you blurted, realizing what you had just said.
"What?" Heeseung gave you a puzzled look, "Dating what?"
"I lied to Jiho. Okay, I don’t have interest in you or even Jiho. I lied to him saying that I’m meeting you," you spilled the news. Heeseung had an empty look on his face as you tried to read his expression.
“Why me?” Heeseung arched his eyebrow.
“You were the first name I saw,” you explained, “So can you fake date me? I need it, please,” you pleaded, hoping he would accept your request.
"No, I’m not interested," he turned around, quickly getting his book to start reading again. Your jaw dropped, no one had ever rejected you like that.
"What?" you spat, feeling terrible that you got rejected for the first time.
"I’m not interested in you or in dating. So, I strongly believe that I shouldn’t do it," he said, quickly focusing his attention on his book.
“I’ll do anything!” you begged, feeling desperate.
"Anything?" Heeseung quickly averted his attention to you, dropping his book slightly to make eye contact with you.
"Yes, anything. I’ll do anything," you replied, hoping he would accept it.
"Then introduce me to her," Heeseung answered. You looked confused.
"Who's her?" you raised your eyebrow.
Heeseung’s cheek slightly blushed, it was the first time you saw him so embarrassed. “Karina,” he mumbled under his breath. Suddenly it clicked—he was interested in Karina, your best friend.
You gave an eager look, “Deal! I’ll introduce you to her after all of the fake dating.” You pulled out your hand.
"Deal," Heeseung replied, shaking your hand.
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A  FEW DAYS LATER, YOU FIND YOURSELF in the convenience store, an unexpected place for someone like you—a popular girl to be at. Your outfit was simpler than usual, baggy gray sweats and a white tank top, with your hair thrown up in a messy high ponytail and an oversized jacket completing the look.
You scan the snack aisle, contemplating your choices, when the doorbell chimes, signaling a customer had entered. Your heart thumps as you recognize the last person you expected to encounter—Heeseung. He's dressed in simple gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, his messy hair somehow adding to his charm.
Your eyes lock momentarily before you both awkwardly shuffle towards each other. "What brings you here?" you ask, surprised to find him in a convenience store at 2 am.
"Why are you up so late?" he counters, swiftly turning the interrogation on you.
"I couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" you reply.
"Studying," he responds matter-of-factly, grabbing an energy drink before swiftly checking out and leaving. You hurry after him, catching up as he strides down the street.
"Studying late? That's a first," you mutter to yourself, gazing up at the night sky.
"I don’t want to flunk my classes, unlike you," he retorts, avoiding your gaze.
"I'm not that hopeless," you roll your eyes.
"Yeah, you are," he quips, taking a sip of his drink.
"Hey!" you playfully threaten, pulling back your arm as if to hit him. But then something unexpected happens—you catch sight of Heeseung's smile, genuine and endearing. You quickly shake off any wayward thoughts; after all, you're just his so-called “girlfriend”.
"Where do you live?" you inquire, trying to change the subject.
"Stalker much?" Heeseung teases.
"Shut up," you retort, rolling your eyes.
"I live in the house near the college," he answers, disposing of his empty can.
"Do you walk to school?" you ask, trying to prolong the conversation.
"Yeah," he replies.
"Then... do you want to walk together tomorrow?" you suggest, stopping in the quiet and empty streets.
"Walk together?" he repeats, surprised.
You nod and quickly add, "Yeah, you know, for you know..."
Heeseung considers for a moment before agreeing, "Sure."
"Great! I'll come by your place at 7 am since school starts at 7:30!" you smile, remembering to ask for his number. He inserts it into your phone, adding, "Don't blow up my phone."
"I'm not that obsessed with you," you retort.
"I think you are," he jokes.
"In your dreams," you shoot back.
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YOU FOUND YOURSELF STANDING OUTSIDE Heeseung's door, feeling an awkward knot tighten in your stomach as you waited, fingers fidgeting nervously. After what seemed like hours, the door swung open to reveal a woman, likely Heeseung's mother.
"Hi, who are you?" she inquired, her eyes curious but welcoming.
"I'm YN LN," you replied, managing a warm smile despite your nerves. "A friend of Heeseung's."
"Heeseung's friend?" Her expression softened into a delighted grin. "I didn't realize Heeseung had such a pretty friend. I'm Heeseung's mother. Just call me Mrs. Lee."
"Mom..." Heeseung's voice interrupted, his presence suddenly beside you as he quickly shuffled to put on his shoes.
"Heeseung, she seems like a sweet and pretty girl," Mrs. Lee remarked before Heeseung darted, closing the door behind him before his mother could say anything else.
"Your mother seems really nice," you commented, attempting to ease the tension.
"Mhm," Heeseung mumbled, his attention already diverted to his book that he quickly pulled out from his backpack. 
With a pointed look, you reached out your hand, silently urging him to remember.
Heeseung sighed, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation, but he relented, tucking the book away and clasping your hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through you, a feeling you couldn't quite grasp.
"So..." you began, eager to break the silence. "Where's your class?"
"Class 3-B," he replied shortly, his gaze fixed ahead as if unwilling to meet your eyes.
"Mine's right next door." you exclaimed, hoping to inject some enthusiasm into the conversation. "Perfect! Do you know what this means?"
"What?" Heeseung's response was clipped, his tone guarded.
"That I can come over to your class during lunch!" you declared with a wide grin, trying to lighten the mood.
"I eat on the rooftop, alone." he added, emphasizing the word alone.
"Ah, I forget you’re a loner," you teased gently.
"At least I'm productive with my free time," he retorted.
"Well, today we're together!" you suggested brightly and then with a smirk you whispered, "And I can introduce you to... Karina." The mention of your best friend's name made Heeseung blush slightly.
"Shut up," he groaned, moving to cover your mouth with his free hand just in case you would say anything else.
"Like I want to-" feeling a sudden hard squeeze in your hand "Ow..."
"Now shut up before I squeeze harder," Heeseung warned, though there was a hint of genuine threat in his tone.
"You're no fun," you muttered. Eventually, you arrived at the school, fingers still intertwined as you drew curious whispers from the hallway.
"YN and Heeseung, dating? No way..." you heard a girl whisper by the lockers, causing a flush of embarrassment to color your cheeks. When you reached Heeseung's classroom, you reluctantly released his hand, noticing the tension in his posture as he leaned against the doorframe.
"See you later?" you asked, "I'll be on the rooftop during break."
"Alright..." Heeseung's response was hesitant, but then came an unexpected word that caught you off guard. "...baby." The pet name hung in the air.
"R-right... anyway, bye..." you stammered, feeling a rush of different emotions. You'd been in relationships before, but you were never so flustered for such small things like that. Could it be... you weren't falling for him, right?
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HEESEUNG SETTLED AT THE EMPTY TABLE on the rooftop, his gaze drifting across the school grounds. The rooftop held a special meaning for him, offering a quiet place to read, barely visited by others.
“Heeseung!” Your voice sliced through the silence, drawing his attention. He glanced up to see you approaching, two lunches in hand.
With a bright grin, you placed the meals in front of him. “I brought lunch!”
"Thanks," Heeseung replied , his tone cool as he examined the homemade kimbap. As you both sat down, awkwardness settled between you, by the avoidance of eye contact.
Summoning his courage, Heeseung brought a question that had lingered in his mind for months. "Why did you like Choi Jiho?"
Your eyes widened at the unexpected, catching you off guard. You paused, hesitating with how to respond.Memories of Jiho flooded your mind. You had forgotten about him for the past 4 days due to Heeseung being on your mind 24/7.
You cleared your throat, summoning a bitter lie to your lips. "I... uh, he was nice, I guess."
"Did Jiho even like you back?" Heeseung's question cut through the air. That’s when you realized something. You remembered the way Jiho would never defend you in any moment or barely spend time with you. And the time when he did? He would always be on his phone. You realized how stupid you were as you thought the moments where he just wanted attention from the public by kissing you or flirting with you meant that he loved you. 
"I... I don't know," you admitted. Deep down, you knew the painful reality—that Jiho had used you.
"Oh, okay..." Heeseung responded, sensing the weight of your words. "So, let's change the top—"
"I know he didn't like me," you interjected, your gaze drifting to the sky before meeting Heeseung's gaze. "I know he was the worst boyfriend I could ask for."
Confusion flickered across Heeseung's features at your sudden confession.
"I was blind. I regret it," you murmured, your gaze falling to your lap. "But it's in the past."
Heeseung regarded you with his usual stern and cold look. "Then why did you tell Jiho you were meeting someone else?"
"Because... I wanted to prove I was happier now," you muttered, grappling with your tumultuous emotions.
"Are you?" Heeseung's gaze bore into yours.
"I... I think I am," you replied
"You 'think'?" Heeseung pressed, his tone firm.
"I'm happier than before," you insisted, though the vagueness of your answer hung in the air.
"That's not specific," Heeseung challenged.
"I can't be specific," you confessed, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Because I don't know, at all."
"Are you sure?" Heeseung persisted.
"Heeseung, it's my feelings, yes I'm sure," you asserted.
"I'm just physically and mentally curious, so it allured me to—" Heeseung began, but you cut him off.
"Okay, I think that's enough. The bell's going to ring soon. Text me later!" With that, you rose abruptly, snatching your lunch bag and offering a quick wave before descending the stairs back to class.
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HEESEUNG LAY ON  HIS BED,  staring up at the ceiling. He knew he should be studying, but your words about Jiho lingered in his mind. "I'm happier than before." Why was he even pondering such things? Lost in thought, he was jolted back to reality by a faint buzz from his phone. Retrieving it, he found a message from you.
YN LN: heeseung!! all my friends rejected me to go to the mall TT, so wanna go together?? ><
Heeseung paused, a moment of surprise flashing across his features. You were asking him to go to the mall with you? It felt almost like you were asking him out. He composed himself and replied:
Heeseung: Sure. Send location and time, I’ll be there.
Putting down his phone, he realized the weight of his agreement. He had just agreed to go on a date with you. And now, he needed to get ready. Hastily, he rummaged through his closet, seeking out a suitable outfit. Opting for his lone stylish varsity jacket paired with jeans, he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tidy it up.
Rushing to the mall, he found you leaning against a store wall, your attention fixed on your phone. As he approached, a cupid seemed to strike him with an arrow as his cheeks flushed. The simplicity of your outfit and the gentle cascade of your hair rendered you utterly captivating.
You looked up, catching sight of Heeseung's slightly stunned expression, and greeted him with a warm smile, gesturing for him to join you.
"Hi," Heeseung muttered, still awestruck by your beauty.
"Hi!" you returned the greeting with equal warmth. "I just need to buy some makeup for my friends, or maybe myself, and possibly shop around! Anything you need?"
"Not necessarily," Heeseung replied, scanning the mall.
"Okay then, follow me," you said, seizing his arm and leading him to the nearest makeup store. Arriving at the lip product section, you perused the selection of lipsticks, lip glosses, and lip tints. Grabbing a random lip tint, you turned to Heeseung.
"Can I try it on you? I need to see if it looks good on a person," you suggested.
"What? When did I sign up for this?" Heeseung sighed.
"Please," you pleaded, giving him your best pout. "I can erase it right after."
"Fine."
With careful precision, you applied the tint to his lips. The warmth of his breath brushed against your cheeks and neck, sending a flurry of sensations through you. Your heart raced as you admired his perfectly shaped lips, now tinted with color. After smoothing out any unevenness, you stepped back to admire the look.
"Hmm... I think this works," you concluded, grabbing the new tint to go check out and pay for it.
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YOU SAVORED THE SWEET TASTE OF vanilla ice cream as you took a bite, sitting side by side with Heeseung on the bench outside the convenient store where you first met. He listened attentively as you shared stories about your friends and family.
"And then Giselle told me—" Your sentence was cut short as Heeseung's fingers delicately wiped a smudge of ice cream from the corner of your lips.
"Mhm?" He hummed softly, encouraging you to continue. Your heart fluttered at his touch, beating rapidly in your chest.
"...y-yeah," you stammered, trying to regain your composure, your gaze drifting to the hues of the sunset painting the sky in shades of blue and orange.
"Are you done with your story?" Heeseung inquired, to which you nodded hastily. You weren't finished, but another word might turn you into a flustered mess.
After a brief silence, you suggested, "How about we go for a walk by the Han River?" Heeseung agreed with a nod, and soon you found yourselves strolling side by side along the riverbank, the gentle sound of water trickling in the background adding to the peaceful atmosphere.
Unexpectedly, Heeseung asked, "Are you going to the dance?" It was a question he wouldn't normally ask.
"The dance?" you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his inquiry.
"Yeah, the school dance?" Heeseung clarified, his expression tinged with skepticism.
"Oh, well, yeah," you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment as you remembered his feelings for Karina. He didn't like you, so why did you allow yourself to hope for something more?
"Is Karina going?" Heeseung continued, and you struggled to find your voice, your throat suddenly dry.
"O-oh, uhm, I think she's going..." you managed to say, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a wave. Foolish fantasies had consumed you for the past five days, but now you bit your lip to stave off the embarrassment and tears threatening to surface.
"I think I'm tired. I'm gonna go home now. Bye, Heeseung," you forced a small smile before turning away, walking in the opposite direction. Heeseung watched you go, a confused expression clouding his features as you moved farther and farther away.
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LEANING AGAINST THE WALL, you found yourself lost in thoughts of Heeseung, the person who was on your mind day in and day out. Why did it bother you so much if he had feelings for your best friend, Karina? Why did his presence hold such sway over you?
"YN?" Winter's voice broke through your trail of thoughts,snapping you back to reality.
"Oh, sorry, I was zoning out," you replied, trying to shake off the distraction.
"You've been distant all day. Is everything okay?" Ningning's concern was evident in her voice.
"Just tired, didn't get much sleep last night," you reassured them with a forced smile, hoping they wouldn't press further.
"Are you sure?" Giselle's skepticism lingered, her gaze searching yours.
"It's nothing, just life being complicated," you offered, trying to reassure their worries.
"If you need to talk, we're here for you," Karina chimed in, her comforting touch on your hands a familiar gesture she usually did. How you longed to confess and tell them about Heeseung and the jumble of emotions you felt and fought with, but the fear of ruining your relationships with both him and Karina kept you quiet.
At that moment, it came to you: you were in love with Heeseung. It had to be a mistake right? You could never like someone like Heeseung.  The way your heart thumped when Heeseung did small actions like hold your hand or even wipe off anything from your mouth.
 Yet, you couldn't shake the fear, the fear of history repeating itself with someone like Jiho, selfish and foolish. What was the point of falling for someone who didn't accept your feelings and liked someone else
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HEESEUNG HAD REHEARSED EVERY WORD, every breath, for the moment he would finally summon the courage to ask you out for dinner. With trembling fingers, he reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. The weight of his nerves pressed down on him as he prepared to take the risk.
As the phone rang, his heart raced, the sound of your voice on the other end sending a jumble of emotions through him "Hello?" you answered, your voice like music and beauty to his ears.
"Hi..." Heeseung replied, his voice betraying his unease.
"Why did you call me?" you asked, curiosity tinged but yet your voice sounded heavy and drained. Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in your tone for the past days, wondering if he had somehow caused it. Had he done something wrong? 
"I was just wondering if... uhm... you wanted to go get dinner tonight together?" Heeseung's voice faltered slightly, the weight of his question hanging in the air.
"Dinner tonight?" Your voice held a hint of confusion, but there was also a spark of interest. "When and where?" you inquired.
"At the Japanese place down the block, at 6?" Heeseung suggested, hoping you would agree.
"Sure, I'll see you at 6 then," you replied, your voice brightening slightly.
"Right, anyways, bye!" Heeseung quickly ended the call, a rush of happiness coursing through him. He had done it. He asked you out for dinner.
With a sense of pride, Heeseung flopped onto his bed, his phone resting on his chest as. a wide grin spread across his face. He replayed the conversation in his mind, excited for the evening of day. 
Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, you couldn't contain your excitement. Heeseung. Lee Heeseung. had. Asked. you. out. to. dinner. You, YN LN.  You couldn't help but squeal with delight into your pillow.
Eager to make a good impression, you jumped out of bed and rushed to your closet, rummaging through your clothes in search of the perfect outfit for the occasion. 
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HEESEUNG SAT NERVOUSLY, tapping the table as he waited for you to arrive. Within minutes, you rushed in and quickly spotted him.
"Hi!" you greeted with a smile, settling down at the table.
"Hi," he smiled back (inside you felt a flutter at how cute his smile was). You both looked at the menu and ordered as the waiter approached. After eating, you quietly walked outside, enjoying the cool evening air.
The dark, cloudless sky revealed a glimmering array of stars. You admired the view, unaware that Heeseung was watching you, captivated by your beauty.
"The stars are so pretty," you remarked in awe.
"Mhm," he replied, still focused on you. Suddenly, you felt his fingers gently tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Your face flushed as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.
"I have a question, YN..." Heeseung began, and you turned to him, curious.
"Do you... want to go to the dance?" he asked. Your heart raced, your stomach churned, and your head spun. He had just asked you to the dance.
"T-the dance?" you stuttered.
"Yeah... I mean, just as... you know, for visual purposes," he tried to clarify.
"Right..." you nodded, agreeing. "I'll go with you." Heeseung's face lit up with a big grin as you accepted his invitation.
"That's great! I'll, um... see you at the dance then," Heeseung said with a small smile and a wave as you both went your separate ways, heading home with a light heart.
As you walked home, your mind buzzed with excitement. The thought of going to the dance with Heeseung made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but replay the moment he asked you, feeling a rush of happiness each time. It was like a dream come true, and you couldn't wait for the night of the dance to arrive.
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WEEKS FLEW BY, each one filled with anticipation, excitement, and a series of dates. Finally, the much-anticipated day of the dance had arrived. It had been six weeks since you eagerly marked this date on your calendar. Reflecting on the past four months since you met Heeseung, you knew deep down that you were head over heels in love with him. The moment he asked you to the dance, those feelings intensified.
"Do you think this dress is pretty enough?" you asked, twirling in your knee-length black dress adorned with delicate lace details, a sweetheart neckline, and spaghetti straps.  The dress hugged your figure perfectly.
"It's gorgeous," Ningning complimented, deftly assisting with your hair.
"It's perfect, just like you," Winter reassured, adjusting your dress with care.
"Easy for you to say, with Beomgyu as your date," you teased, prompting laughter from your friends.
"And you have Heeseung," Winter smiled, smoothing out the fabric of your dress.
"You two are so cute together," Giselle teased, earning a blush from you.
"I love you guys," you said, feeling grateful for their support as you shared a group hug.
"Even if I'm dating a man, you'll always be my number one," Winter jokes, lightening the mood as you head to Karina's car.
Upon arriving at the dance, the lively atmosphere was perfect. Laughter, music, and chatter filled the room as people talked, danced, and enjoyed themselves. Spotting Heeseung entering the room, you felt a rush of excitement.
He looked perfect in his suit, his hair perfectly styled. Rushing over to him, you greeted him with a beaming smile.
"Heeseung!" you exclaimed. Heeseung looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. I
"You look amazing, YN," Heeseung complimented, his smile genuine.
"Thanks, but you're the one who looks stunning," you replied, feeling your heart flutter as you took in his appearance. "Come on, let's grab some snacks and go have fun!"
The next two hours were filled with laughter, dancing, and cherished moments spent with Heeseung and your friends. However, it was until you excused yourself to the bathroom, to then meet Jiho.
"YN," Jiho's voice cut through the noise, sending a chill down your spine.
"What do you want, Jiho?" you asked, your tone laced with irritation.
"Are you here with your 'so-called' boyfriend, Heeseung?" Jiho taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Yes, and what's it to you?" you retorted, your patience wearing thin.
“Yeah there is.” his smirk widened, “Don’t act stupid, I knew everything.” 
“God I hate you Jiho.”  you spat, feeling your anger rise.
"Come on, YN. Admit you still love me, and everything will go back to normal," Jiho sneered.
“I don’t even like you anymore, Jiho.”  you said firmly, trying to keep your composure.
"Oh, really? Maybe this will change your mind," Jiho said, leaning in closer. You felt his fingers slip into your waist, his grip firm and tight. You felt his face leaning closer to yours. You quickly stepped back and pushed him aside. 
“Are you fucking crazy?” you yelled. 
“YN, why are you so pissed? Not like you like anyone.”  Jiho's eyes bore into yours, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I don’t want to fucking kiss you,” you glared, “Now fuck off please.” 
“Why is it because of Heeseung? Your fake boyfriend? God, he probably doesn’t even like you YN. He only likes you because you're popular.” he laughed. Your heart sank at his cruel words. The words stung as you heard each word. Heeseung was just a stupid fake boyfriend you had. The two of you had never had a real relationship. A real love. Was Heeseung just playing with your feelings? Did Heeseung even love you like how much you loved him? 
"I hate you, Jiho," you whispered before leaving the party alone, your heart felt heavy. 
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YOU SPENT HOURS lying in bed, staring out the rain-splattered window, your cheeks damp from the relentless stream of tears. Days had passed since the dance, and you hadn't mustered the strength to leave the confines of your home. 
"YN, you've been here for hours," Karina's voice broke through the silence, her concern evident as she entered your room. 
"Why didn't you text me?" 
"Phone died," you muttered, burying your face deeper into the sheets.
"Tell me what's wrong," Karina urged gently, taking a seat beside you. 
"I don't know," you confessed, your voice barely audible. 
"Come on," Karina coaxed, her comforting presence offering a glimmer of solace. 
"Okay, fine," you relented, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Jiho said some awful things to me at the dance. Now I'm a wreck, and I can't face Heeseung. I'm in love with him, and it's tearing me apart." 
Karina's eyes widened at the torrent of emotions pouring out. "And you kept this from me all this time?" 
"Karina, I didn't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. "I thought Heeseung felt the same way, but then Jiho made me doubt everything."
"How does Jiho know anything? He's not Heeseung," Karina retorted, frustration evident in her tone. "He's just trying to mess with your head." 
"But what if he's right? What if Heeseung was just pretending all along?" you sighed, a heavy weight settling in your chest. 
"YN," Karina's voice softened, her touch gentle as she sought to comfort you. "How do you know Heeseung doesn't like you? Have you talked to him?" 
"I haven't," you admitted, uncertainty clouding your thoughts.
"Then how can you be so sure?" Karina questioned, her eyes searching yours. "Heeseung cares about you, YN. He was worried sick after the dance. He searched everywhere for you and even left the party early out of concern."
"Are you serious?" you asked, a glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes. 
"Dead serious," Karina affirmed, her sincerity unwavering. "Talk to him, YN. You'll see." 
"But what if I'm wrong?" you hesitated, your fear holding you back. "Just trust me on this," Karina reassured, squeezing your hand gently. "Talk to Heeseung. You'll thank me later." Karina offered you a reassuring smile before enveloping you in an embrace.
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HEESEUNG WAS SERIOUSLY DEAD WORRIED about you. He thought you were possibly hit by some car or even worse kidnapped. His thoughts wandered as he tried to think of all the possibilities you were. You stopped even coming to school for weeks.
The memory of the dance replayed in his mind like a broken record, haunting him with unanswered questions. Your sudden disappearance after excusing yourself to the bathroom left him questionable and restless. Desperately, he asked your friends as your friends only left him shrugs and quietness making him uneasy of the situation.
When you finally returned after a week-long absence, Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in you. You awfully looked tired and you had eyebags. And the most important change, you were avoiding Heeseung. Was it something he had done to mess things up?
Heeseung sat at his usual spot on the rooftop, gazing out at the view, trying to get his thoughts out.
"Look who it is, Lee Heeseung," a voice pierced through the silence, pulling Heeseung from his reverie. Turning, he found Jiho leaning casually against the stairway exit, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Heeseung's girlfriend, huh?" Jiho taunted, his words hitting Heeseung like a sudden blow.
"What did you do to YN?" Heeseung's voice was edged with a mixture of anger and concern, his gaze sharp.
"Nothing much, just a little truth-telling," Jiho chuckled, his demeanor full of arrogance. 
"What truth?" Heeseung's tone was laced with urgency, his fists clenched in frustration.
“Just a few things that need to be said. Like how you guys are just dating, nothing more than that.”
Heeseung's jaw tightened as the weight of Jiho's words settled in, his mind reeling with disbelief and anger.
"Do you even know why YN hates you?" Heeseung spat, his voice seething with contempt.
"Why don't you tell me?" Jiho's smirk widened.
"Cause you’re truly an awful person” Heeseung retorted, his patience wearing thin.
“Oh really?” Jiho teased, “I didn’t know.”
Jiho's mocking laughter only fueled Heeseung's rage, his frustration exploding into action as he delivered a swift punch to Jiho's jaw.
"You're really undeserving of her," Heeseung's words echoed in the empty space.
“You could punch me as many times, I don’t care.” Jiho smiled. 
“I would but actually I don’t want to see your ugly face, so fuck off.” Heeseung stormed out of the rooftop leaving Jiho alone on the ground.
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IT WAS 1 AM WHEN YOU FOUND YOURSELF at the convenience store, clad in your most comfortable clothes, not even caring if people saw you. The rush of cold air from the conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, scanning the assortment of snacks. The scent of sweet delights filled your senses, tempting you to buy more. You reached for a snack when the chime of the door signaled someone's arrival.
Looking up, you were met with the sight of Heeseung standing across the store, his gaze fixed on you. It felt like deja vu, reminiscent of the first time you laid eyes on him. Your throat went dry, memories of Jiho's words echoing in your mind: "He probably doesn’t even like you." Anxious, you bit your lip as Heeseung approached.
"Can we talk outside?" Heeseung's voice broke through the tension. With a quiet nod, you followed him out of the store.
"YN, what's going on?" Heeseung's concern was evident as he confronted you, hoping you would answer honestly.
"Heeseung, it's nothing," you lied
"It's not nothing," Heeseung persisted, his tone firm.
"Okay, fine, I'll tell you. I fell in love with you, but then Jiho made me doubt everything. I thought you probably didn’t even like me, maybe you liked Karina instead. What was the point of being with you if I'm only going to hurt myself?" The words spilled out in a rush, leaving you empty.. Heeseung froze at your confession, disbelief in his expression.
"You like me?" Heeseung's eyebrow arched in surprise.
"I know you don't like me—" Before you could finish, Heeseung silenced you with a soft kiss. His lips were soft and perfect.You felt his fingers sliding into your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Your lips were moving in sync, in the same passion, kissing each other back. You felt his fingers intertwined with yours, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand.
Pulling away, breathless, you attempted to speak, but Heeseung beat you to it. "I like you a lot, YN. I was in denial of my feelings for months, but I realized I was actually in love with you." You widen your eyes at his confession
"Heeseung, you're not lying, right?" suspicion tinged your words.
"Do you think I would ever lie to you?" Heeseung chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, a gesture that he would always done 
"No, but it all seems non-real," you confessed.
Heeseung's laughter, the sound you cherished the most, filled the air. "Then, will you be my real girlfriend, YN LN?"
"Of course, any day I'll choose you," you smiled, leaning in for another kiss. 
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MONTHS HAD PASSED and you found yourself in a state of bliss you never imagined possible. Seated on the rooftop with Heeseung, your fingers intertwined, you gazed out into the view before you, the cool breeze enveloping you in a sense of serenity.
"Look how far we've come," you remarked, a smile gracing your lips as you watched Heeseung absentmindedly draw small patterns on your palm.
"Yeah," Heeseung nodded, his touch gentle and comforting.
"I love you, Heeseung," you whispered softly, your words carrying the weight of your affection.
"I love you more," Heeseung replied in a tender whisper, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he leaned in to press a series of delicate kisses along its curve.
"Heeseung, that tickles!" you laughed, squirming slightly at the sensation.
"This is your punishment for getting a 60% on the exam," Heeseung teased, his tone playful yet teasing.
"Hey, I'm not some nerd like you!" you retorted, playfully poking his side.
"Nerd?" Heeseung chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"A cute nerd," you amended with a grin, your heart swelling with affection.
"And you're my cute princess," Heeseung declared, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to your lips, his love for you shining brightly in his eyes. You truly were in love with Heeseung, and you weren’t going to deny it.
3K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 3 months ago
Note
Heyyy! So I'm obsessed with your writing! Your EMT series might be my favourite thing I've ever read.
I was wondering if I could request an EMT Marauders x reader story where she gets really sick but thinks it's nothing and downplays it to them, only for it to end up being Pneumonia or something. And maybe they feel guilty for not realising it sooner?
I know you've probably already written something similar to this so no worries if you don't feel like writing it but I'd love to see your take it if you decide. Hurt/comfort is my favourite trope in the world. I just can't get enough of it!
I hope you're doing well!
Thanks gorgeous, hope you're doing well too <3
cw: pneumonia
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You make sure there’s plenty of honey in your tea when the boys get home. 
“Hi,” you greet them, pleased when your voice comes out semi-normal. 
“Hey, gorgeous.” Sirius flops onto the sofa, nearly on top of your curled-up legs. “How was your day?” 
You try to keep your answer brief, your cough plied into submission with honey and warm tea but not for long. “Good. Got some things done.” 
You don’t mention that after every one of those things you’d had to have a thirty-minute lie down, or that many of them involved disinfecting surfaces you’d accidentally coughed near. 
“Being sick isn’t an opportunity to get things done.” Remus sinks into his chair, leveling you with a reprimanding look. “You’re supposed to be resting.” 
You shrug. “The only reason I haven’t been at work is because—” A couple of coughs fight their way out of you. James’ expression pinches as he sits on the arm of Remus’ chair, but thankfully the fit passes quickly. You take another sip of your tea. “Because I don’t want to pass it to anyone. I think I have to go back tomorrow, though.” 
Sirius makes a soft tsking sound. The boys are all still in uniform, his tattoos peeking out from the short sleeves as he traces looping circles on the side of your knee. “But you’re not better yet.” 
“Yeah, but I’m running out of sick days.” 
James frowns. “How long has it been?” 
You bring your tea to your lips, avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes. “I’ve been out for a week.” 
“But you were sick for a while before that,” he says. “What is that, ten days? Eleven?”
You shrug. 
Sirius is looking up at you with a puckered brow. “Do you feel like you’re getting better?” 
“I think so,” you say optimistically. It’s quickly undermined, however, when you’re caught up in another coughing fit. You have to set your tea down to keep from spilling it, holding a tissue over your mouth. 
James’ eyes widen, and Sirius sits up to rub your back. 
“That doesn’t sound very good,” James says. 
“No,” Sirius agrees. He reaches to feel your face, but you brush him away. 
“Don’t-—ack—don’t get too close. I don’t want to get you sick.” 
“I’m not gonna get sick, you baby.” He pushes past your hands. “Let me do my job.” 
“You just got off work.” 
“Yeah, well,” his voice softens, taking on a sympathetic hum as he lays his palm flat to your hairline, “maybe I maybe I was talking about my boyfriend job.” A pause. “I think your fever’s gotten worse, my love.” 
You whine. “Really?” 
“‘Fraid so. Have you noticed your symptoms getting worse at all?”
“I don’t” —you cough and reach for your tea again— “think so.” 
“Dove,” Remus says warningly. 
“It’s hard to tell,” you admit. “It’s moved around.” 
“Like where, honey?” James asks. 
“Like, in my…” You feel your throat contract, another fit brewing. You touch a hand to your sternum to avoid speaking. 
“In your chest?” Remus infers. 
You nod. 
He hums and moves to sit on the coffee table, his knees touching yours. You try to warn him away, but Remus shushes you gently. “Let me look at you.” 
He brings one hand to your face, feeling the way Sirius had, and touches the other to the pulse point on your neck. His touch is gentle and cool against your warm skin. You don’t know what exactly he’s looking for, but you find yourself fighting the urge to fall asleep in the basin of his palm when it slips down to hold your cheek. 
“You don’t need to talk,” says James, “but just nod yes or no, okay? Have you noticed yourself feeling more tired lately?” 
You nod tentatively. 
“Yeah? Less appetite?” 
You frown. “I don’t think—” You’re cut off by your own hacking. 
“One week off work, and she completely forgets how to follow instructions,” Sirius teases, rubbing your leg. 
“Terrible patient,” James agrees. 
“Alright,” Remus says once your fit ebbs. “I don’t have a stethoscope, but can you turn sideways for me?” 
You do, confused. Remus puts his ear to your back. You must make an odd face, because Sirius grins at you, reaching over to pinch your chin affectionately. 
“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 
You try, but it doesn’t get far. Your lungs expand maybe halfway before you’re coughing again, horrible, wracking coughs punctuated by stabbing pains in your chest. Remus sits up after a few moments, rubbing your back. 
“Sorry,” you manage. 
“Why are you sorry?” Sirius pulls you into him, cradling your head to his chest. “That sounded like it hurt, huh?” 
“Yeah,” Remus answers for you, brows bent with sympathy. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. At least now we can get you some medicine, though.” 
You cough weakly. “You can?” 
“Sounds like pneumonia?” James asks Remus. Your boyfriend nods. 
Sirius coos, petting your head. “I’m sorry, baby. I was thinking it was just a cold.” 
“It’s not your fault,” you croak. “I was, too.” 
“Feels like we ought to have known the difference, though,” James admits. When Sirius gets up, he’s quick to take his spot, tucking you underneath an arm. 
“Where are you going?” you ask Sirius. 
He’s putting his shoes back on. “To get someone to write you a prescription. The sooner we get you on antibiotics, the better. It’ll give you something to show your boss, too.” 
“I don’t need to come with you?” you ask hopefully. 
He winks, grabbing his keys. “Perks of knowing people at the hospital.” 
“Perks of flirting with the doctors, he means,” Remus mutters after he’s gone. 
“Hey,” James laughs, giving his boyfriend’s knee a playful squeeze, “it works out for us, doesn’t it?” 
“Sometimes,” Remus allows. He fixes his gaze on you. “Anything we can do to help you feel better, sweetheart? Do you want to try a hot bath? Steam would be good for you.” 
You look down into your now cool mug. “Could I have some more tea?” 
He takes it from you with a kiss to your head. “What a silly question.”
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corkinavoid · 6 months ago
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DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt. 2)
"You said you're going to ask questions, then can we ask questions?" Superman really tries to be polite here because, first, he was raised by Kents and, second, Jazz and the whole interdimensional police thing looks non-hostile. At least now.
The redhead nods, "Sure, ask away, I'll answer everything I can." Then, she notices Batman reaching to touch the green shield and makes a soft, warning noise, "Ah, sorry, please don't touch it. I can show how it works later, but it's not meant to keep you out. It's to keep everything else in."
Batman reluctantly puts his head down and turns to her.
"Elaborate."
The sci-fi ship in the air makes a loud hissing sound, like compressed air being released, and the bottom part of it slides open. Jazz nods in the direction of the now open ship.
"You know what they say, it's better to see it once than to hear it ten times."
There are three humanoid figures standing in there. All of them are mostly monochrome, black and white clothes, starkling white hair. They look like one adult and two children, but it's one of the kids who raises his hands to his mouth and yells so loud everyone in three miles radius is able to hear him:
"Step away from the shield, please, shit's about to get real!"
None of the heroes move, but Jazz does take a few steps away. Wonder Woman, after a moment of hesitation, follows her example.
A mechanical voice comes from the ship itself, "Countdown to the breach. Five... Four..."
On 'three,' all three of the monochrome figures step out from the ship. But, before any of the heroes have time to worry, they all float in the air, undeterred by gravity, and the ship door closes behind them.
The countdown reaches 'one'. And in the next moment, it looks like the hell breaks loose.
Countless giant vines shoot out from the portal up, reaching for the ship. True to what the red hoverboarder said, they are very much toothy, every vine splitting in two and attempting to bite the ship like some twisted idea of scissors.
None of them reach it.
The oldest of three kids claps his hands, and a wall of raging fire descends on the vines, throwing them off. In the next moment, the trio falls apart, flying through the lovecraftian mess of carnivorous plants with practiced ease, the younger ones using what looks like icicles and little storms.
"Who are they?" Batman asks Jazz, following the youngest one's - the only girl among the three - movements as she creates a strong gust of wind with a wave of her hand. None of the vines or attacks get past the shield, though.
"My siblings," the girl answers, pointing her hand at the oldest one, "That's Dan. He's the most violent. One time, he destroyed our original world, but that timeline doesn't exist anymore." She then points to the girl, "That's Dani, the youngest. She rarely joins the crew lately. And she is actually a clone, but at this point, most of us have been cloned once or twice, so it's not a big deal anymore." She then points her finger to the last one, a boy that flies past them quicker than a lightning, freezing everything he touches, "And this is Danny. He is the most powerful one. Technically, he could have just ended the fight with one Wail, but kids like to have fun. Also, they don't get to show off their elemental powers a lot, so they are mostly being dramatic for you."
She says all this so easily, just like a matter of fact, and it is at this moment that the members of JL realize the sheer power of whoever these people are. When she casually told them she bested Superman, it could have been written as a coincidence, a joke. But this?
Dan growls as one of the vines scratches his shoulder. He bleeds green, but it's only for a second before both the wound and the suit knit themselves back together. This is not just a simple accelerated healing, it almost looks like a miracle.
"Oi, brats, I'm done with show off, get out of the way!" He yells at the other two, and Danny and Dani quickly follow the order, flying closer to him and behind his back.
"Cover your ears," Jazz tells the heroes around her, and puts her helmet back on, as Dan takes a deep breath and screams.
It hurts even those who follow Jazz's advice. Batman feels like his eardrums are about to be shattered for the lack of better word. But the vines like the sonic attack even less - most of them subdue and pull back inside the portal, and the rest is dissipating like they are being burned from the inside out.
And then, just like it began, the scream - the wail - stops. The silence feels deafening after the end of it, but slowly, the sounds return, and the JL watches Danny flying down to the center of the portal. He puts his hands on the surface of it, and for a long moment, nothing happens.
And then the Pit starts closing up.
Or, no, it is Danny who absorbs it, the green flowing up through his hands, his veins that start glowing the same green. His eyes become the same toxic color, with no whites and no irises, just glowing green all over, and his hair shimmers like stars.
A few minutes later, the portal is gone, like it never even existed, and Danny plants his feet on the ground and stretches, like one would do after a good rest.
"Oof, that was nice!" He turns to the other two, who are still up in the air, "Do you want some?"
Dan flips him off before going back to the ship, but Dani floats down to him and extends her hands out.
"Sure. I like getting it from you better than from the portal itself anyway. Gives it a sparkling taste, like Sprite," she chuckles. Danny takes her hands in his, and the green glow slowly makes its way through their joined palms, now flowing through the girl’s body.
"What are they?" Flash whispers, horrified, but Jazz hears it nonetheless and turns her head to him, taking her helmet off once again.
"That is not a very appropriate question," she chastises and smiles at their faces, "But it's okay, I get it. They are ghosts. Or ectoplasmic entities, or halfas, or highly liminal beings. Or, if you want a very simplified version, they are dead kids who are enjoying their afterlife a little too much."
"Dead?" Batman zeros on the word, snapping his eyes at the girl. She smiles, and for the first time, it doesn't look human. Her teeth are too sharp, her grin too wide, and her eyes are suddenly not just teal, but neon bright and glowing, with vertical irises.
"Most of us are dead in one way or another. And I do not mean it in a metaphorical sense."
-------------------
What I'm thinking is they have a whole system going on. Amity Park generally resides in the Realms, but from time to time, they decide they want to go on a vacation, as a whole town, and they pop into existence on one of the Earths. They don't really care for the universe or dimension they end up in, as long as it is more or less peaceful (as in, no active wars going on right where they pop up), has sunlight and nice weather.
The GIW is taking care of legal things - imagine US government reaction when a whole ass town just boom, starts existing in a place where nothing existed before? So GIW does all the paperwork and discussions. Also, they are doing their basic research on the dimension they end up in, for science purposes.
I'm thinking Vlad is still a mayor of Amity. And sometimes, when a particular dimension is rather annoying, he straight up possesses the authorities because he hates official talks and couldn't care less for morals if he tried for a week. The GIW scolds him, but don't really say no. It's not a good solution to the problem, but hey, it works.
Meanwhile, Fentons are doing ectoplasmic research. They scan the dimension for troubles, basically, looking for natural portals and ghosts causing ruckus. Jazz is almost always the one who does the talking to the heroes native to the dimension - she is the one who has the most patience and social skills. Jack is in charge of transportation and Maddie is the head of biological, ecto-biological and other species research. Tucker is the tech specialist, of course - he is the sole reason why Amity has wi-fi wherever they go. Val and her father are, kind of, protectors? Security? But for the whole town, yeah. They do have GIW agents as subordinates.
Dani is not always living in Amity, she travels the Realms most of the time, but she joins when something interesting happens. Dan is, like, on an eternal probation period, GIW and Fentons keep an eye on him, but he is one of the heavy hitters for when shit goes down.
Danny is living his best life, he is mainly the protector spirit of Amity, but he also gets to protect all the dimensions from ghosts! He helps anyone and everyone - one day he is working with Val on defenses for their main ship they use to travel inside dimensions, and the next day he is joining Maddie in her studies of new species found.
Oh, I forgot Sam. She is probably the one responsible for the magic stuff - mostly everyone else focuses on scientific aspects, but she is the one to research on occult things.
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cognitiveoverload · 7 days ago
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Bambi (Spencer Reid x reader)
summary: You joined the BAU to prepare for an upcoming role, but your time with the team gives you a new career path and a new lover.
note: It's short, but that's how far I wanted to take this now. Takes place before 11x01.
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“Special Agent Bambi stole my coffee 😩”
This is a message meant for your best friend, but Derek sadly leans over your shoulder just in time to catch it. You only notice when you hear his laughter in your ear, and soon you see him sitting on the edge of the desk in front of you. “I saw Spencer with a cup of coffee that had your name on it. Oh, if only someone told him you called him Bambi,” he says with a teasing grin.
Mortified, you open your mouth to protest, or rather to beg him to keep this to himself, but no word leaves your throat. Maybe a deal could work, maybe you could offer something he wants, and considering he mentioned his girlfriend loves your work, that could be the key to your secret’s safety. So, with a sweet smile, you put your phone on the desk and fold your arms as you look at him.
Derek instinctively mirrors your movement, watching you with a slightly raised eyebrow. “I’ll take you and Savannah to a fancy restaurant on an evening that’s good for the both of you, and she can join me on the first days of shooting when we finally get there,” you offer. 
“All of this to stop me from telling the kid?” When you nod, he lets out a thoughtful hum. “Damn it, you know that’s an offer I can’t turn down. I’ll keep your secret.”
“What secret?” 
You see as the agent in front of you whistles quietly, then walks past you as if there was nothing to see. The question came from Penelope, who stands right next to the very man you’ve exchanged a few words about. At first, you open your mouth to respond, but then you realize there’s no way you could improvise without being busted by them. Telling part of the truth could be useful, though.
So, without much hesitation, you put an award-winning smile on your face and point in the direction where Derek went. “I invited Savannah to the set of the movie,” you explain. You quickly realize there has to be a continuation for this sentence, otherwise you would have to start explaining yourself. “I was thinking about a girls’ weekend if you’re in too.”
Penelope claps her hands in excitement as she looks at Spencer. “I might not even return to you,” she jokes with a wide smile. “It’s so exciting, of course I’m in!” 
When she hugs you, you immediately become enveloped in that warm aura of hers, the one everyone on the team mentioned after you arrived. You’ve only been with the team for three weeks in preparation for a new role, but surprisingly, they all welcomed you kindly despite being short of a few people, and even among them, Penelope was the one who grew the closest to you in a matter of days.
While each and every one of them became important to you for a different reason, it’s Spencer you can’t quite place anywhere. He’s so different from the guys you are used to, and you can’t decide if this oddity is the reason why you don’t know what to think about him. A part of you thinks he’s an adorable dork, which brings out your protective side, while another believes he’s charming and handsome, the kind of guy you want to do certain things with behind closed doors. 
You’re like a Victorian man when he sees a woman’s ankle, you can’t help yourself when he’s around. It’s hard to recall the last time you were so desperate for someone’s attention, maybe it was back in high school, but you’re not sure. 
Behind her, Spencer takes a sip of coffee from the paper cup, and your eyes meet as you let go of Penelope and take a step back. He doesn’t say anything, and the silence is deafening, but you wait, secretly hoping he would change his mind and tell you something, even if it’s nothing more than some random fact about movies. But he remains silent, and eventually he moves to sit behind his desk without sparing you a second look.
Penelope also leaves, and since you don’t have paperwork to do like the others, you pull out the book that’s part of your curriculum and continue reading it, highlighting the pages where you find interesting details with a narrow post-it. It was Spencer and Dave who wrote you a list of books you could learn a lot from, and they both promised to talk with you about them once you finished reading them.
You have no idea how much time passed exactly, but your quiet reading session is interrupted by the announcement that there’s a new case and briefing starts now in the conference room. You pick up your phone and head after the rest of the team, sitting in the back as usual to be out of the way, but to your surprise, Spencer decides to sit next to you this time. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he flashes a smile at you, then takes another sip of the coffee cup with your name visible to you.
As most cases they work on, these were also gruesome murders, and the more details you hear, the harder you grip your thighs to bear it. But then you feel a hand cover yours, slowly but confidently lacing your fingers. You know whose hand it is, yet you don’t dare to look his way, you don’t feel like taking his attention away from the case that’s being presented. He joins the conversation every now and then, but whenever there’s a break, you can feel his eyes on you.
The team’s dismissed, and you’re heading to the plane that takes off half an hour later. The plane where Spencer once again opts to sit next to you, although this time he finally talks to you. “It gets better with time,” he notes quietly, flashing a small smile at you. You return it, but before you can say anything, he goes on. “I know that you were asking about joining the academy to become one of us.”
The surprised look you give him is followed by a groan. “Penelope?” you wonder, and he nods in response. “It’s just… I love acting, don’t get me wrong, but this would actually mean something, you know?” 
“But are you ready to work on such cases every day?”
You lean your head back as you consider what to say to that. The idea of joining the FBI came to you a week ago, after you entered the rented apartment you stayed in following an emotionally tough case. At first, you briefly considered quitting this little crash-course before it could leave a permanent scar on you, but then you realized that at the end of the day, it was all about saving lives. And this made you wonder if there was anything acting helped you achieve aside from promoting good causes. 
Preaching about the importance of fighting for the environment, or children’s rights didn’t mean people would actually do something too. But a job at the FBI? That would have results. You could put bad guys behind bars, even if it wouldn’t be so cheerful all the time. Considering you were in your late twenties, maybe you still had enough time to make such a big career change. 
With a sigh, you turn your head to look at him. “You said it yourself, it gets better with time,” you reply, but a doubtful look crosses his face. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I want to see if I would be good enough,” you tell him. 
Spencer turns in his seat, watching you with a barely visible smile at first. “You’ll need an intensive course,” he points out as he reaches out, once again lacing your fingers. “How about this? We meet outside of work and go through some old cases. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about profiling.”
“Are you sure? I’m sure you need your free time, I wouldn’t want you to–” But he doesn’t let you finish, instead he ignores the curious eyes watching the two of you and leans in to give you a soft kiss. “Oh,” you say when he pulls back. 
“You don’t even notice how many times you stare at me, do you?” he asks with a teasing smile, his hand moving to your cheek. “And please, don’t call me Bambi behind my back.”
With wide eyes, you stand up and turn around to find a certain member of the team that’s gonna be kicked in the ass for sure. “Derek, god dammit!” you yell, but before you could go there to confront him, Spencer takes your hand and gently pulls you back into the seat. You flash an apologetic smile at him, then rest your head on his shoulder as you think about how things would be for the two of you now.
Maybe with him on your side, it will be easier to handle these cases. 
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