#[ thank u for enjoying my little stories. thank u for stopping by. <3 ]
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is this something i should've included in my 2024 wrapped? probably. but i'm still doing it to close off the year! (´◡`)
incredibly grateful to have gotten so much love in the past three months. i'm not able to respond to everything, but trust that i see every comment— whether in the replies, reblogs, or in my inbox.
if anything, let this be a reminder to support your favorite writers/creators. in an algorithm that thrives on likes, reblogs with comments in the tags/replies/asks make a world of difference. if you liked someone's work, let them know.
here are some of your words that have stuck with me. 🫶
"#i heart tumblr user xinganhao #no one is doing it like them #the amount of depth in their work #THE EFFORT IS ALMOST TANGIBLE #not to participate in idol worship but …. #a role model for the fic writing community #hashtag proud to be born in the same timeline as tumblr user xinganhao" — g4minelvr re: fake dating!seungkwan
"i always look forward to vernon's slides because I CAN HEAR HIM!!!! its wild like all the replies???? his voice is in my head. but i also realized i can imagine/hear hoshi's so easily too!!! and a lot of his are so funny and witty. anyway ive been so entertained the past few days cos of kae's writing" — maplegyu re: svt reacts to 'i used to have a little bit of a crush on you'
"#so cute !! #“to love is to be burdened; but to not think of it that way.” #HELLOOO #thats such a fire line to drop ???? #sigh these alignments are all accurate but i really need hao to take caee of me :((" — planetkiimchi-rbs re: svt reacts to your drunk texts
"I bet your uni entry essay kicked ass. Youre so creative its mind blowing😭" — bambispostsblog re: sociology major!junhui x reader
"#welcome back dramateen😭😭😭" — dcrlingyou re: svt when idol!reader releases a breakup song
"#i think someone's already said this but #the writing under the texts is like a little treat that i somehow always forget about #its so fun #i read the texts and im like “aww thats so cute i love this blog so muchhhh” #and then i scroll #AND THERES MORE #its like the best thing ever" — forever-atiny re: svt reacts to your drunk texts
"This is DEVASTATING 😭😭😭😭😭 your writing is beautiful but DAMN did it rip my heart and throw it into the ocean" — sasalalista re: svt (taylor's version), heartbreak edition
"#okay maybe I'll allow myself to be this delusional only for this smau bc it's adorable 🥹" — stay-in-district9 re: chan x fansite!reader
"#kae did u know i have a whole maladaptive dream world abt this pairing #it’s like u looked directly into my brain #but like it’s just so perfect for wonwoo #and i just love how pathetic u made him" — pochaccoups re: wonwoo x streamer!reader
"#did i ever mention i am literally your biggest fan #ALL your works i am eating them up 🙏 #and this one was just oh my god #the way you narrate is always too good #with your little details abt the screenplay and all #i aspire to write like you- it's like mixed media but in writing #i loved loved loved this exes to lovers suits gyu so muchhhh" — simpxxstan re: film major!mingyu x reader
"#user xinganhao the way you EAT EVERY SINGLE TIME #COOKED WITH GAS AND FIRE AND DEVOURED #permanently sat for ur posts i fear #can’t get up won’t get up" — ahuiahoe re: seungcheol x fanbase!reader
"the fact that you do complete research into each and every one of the topics and write them well is just pure dedication and hats off to you!!" — choco-scoups re: biology major!vernon x reader
"i'm so in love with the way you design your extra content/headcanons under the photos!! the soccer team and notes app got me down bad, but i really adore the text visually fitting the concept in all of your works!! always excited to get a notification from you. thank you for sharing your creativity with the world!!" — purple-eustoma
"I hope you know your works always hit the spot just right. not even kidding I was in class for two hours and then I see this in my notifications the way i INSTANTLY SMILED?! how do you manage to make my day better😔🫶" — cxffecoupx re: operation dispatch (chan x idol!reader)
"Honestly I know most of your svt burner account fics are meant to be open end, and I really love that. It is just that your writing makes me keep wanting to know more of the story, it is soo well written. I want to dive into the world a little more every time🌸" — anon
"#THIS IS SO CREATIVE WTF #the genius interview and the whole song… kae ur BRAINNNNNN #this is so good omfg im rooting for them so hard #living vicariously thru simp cheol tweets pretending i am the fanbase 😔 he wants me guys trust #i love love love all the little bonus stuff you do for these literally most creative and fun smau writer ur changing the game" — junhui-recs re: seungcheol x fanbase!reader
"these keep coming up on my dash and i will never skip an smau made by the greatest smau creator on this silly little tumby app" — hachireads re: dead poets society!hhu x reader
"im so srs rn. pls never stop writing" — wonuloves re: vernon dates rockstar!reader (4)
"woozi loves silently, consistently, and sincerely. these are not the adjectives anyone would typically match with the concept of love. and yet, it fits. i first felt the depth of his love with vocal unit songs. and i never looked back. thank you for writing this. thank you for understanding seventeen so well. you deserve everything good in life." — chugging-antiseptic-dye re: jihoon x poetry account!reader
how lucky am i to get to say that this is a mere fraction of all the kindness i've been afforded. again: i see all the nice words directed my way, and it motivates me to stay on this godforsaken site (lol) for at least one more day. thank you, thank you, thank you.
if i can love well, it's because i've been loved well. please let me repay all your kindness in 2025 and for however much longer that i can (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ if you got this far: happy new year! i wish you clarity, courage, and compassion at every turn. xo
— kae
#── ᵎᵎ ✦ yapping#── ᵎᵎ ✦ saves#[ is this my way of finding smth to look back on a rainy day? perhaps lol ]#[ like i say: this is a mere FRACTION. i have so much kindness from all around :( ]#[ and i am so very grateful!! i wish i could express it better!! ]#[ thank u for enjoying my little stories. thank u for stopping by. <3 ]#[ stay for as long as you'd like! take your time!! we have nothing but time here ]#[ i always borrow fr. cheol re: 'i hope you're a little happier than me today' ]#[ but Hashtag trust. i am happy today:) The happiest. <3 ]#[ may you find what you need this new year. and like i always always say -- ]#[ don't be a stranger <333 ]#[ see u guys on the flipside! xo ]
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ᢉ𐭩GOOD BOY(‘S) [1]

Pairing: mark grayson x sinister mark x Mohawk mark x viltrumite mark x F!reader (god damn)
Synopsis: been awhile since the invincible war ended. A few of them ended up being captured in your world and kept in the prisons. Cecil allows you to visit them and (clearly) has not a damn clue as to what you’re saying or doing with them. Usually, it’d be complete chaos and nothing would change or happen in the room. However, you finally try something new with them…all of them…(should be good to mention here that you have powers…if u didn’t you’d honestly be stupid going into that room with confidence 🧍🏾♀️)
Warnings: story will lead to smut, slightly suggestive, harsh words (like bitch, pussy, or slut), not proofread, some corny dialogue (bear with me pls)
W.c: 2,086 (rlly doing my big one)
A/N: (there’s alot I have to say so pls bear with me 😭) first off, thank all of u for all the constant support on my other fics and even my shitty little doodles I posted. Means a lot to me. This is my first series/series writing and it’s also the first fic I’ve made with multiple ppl speaking let alone mark variants. So I’m begging you, please bear with me. If anything is overly fucking terrible or bad feel free to dm me advice. Also I’ll be making a master list soon for all my writings. Or wtv. This is part one to the series and it’ll get super smutty in the next one so I hope u js enjoy this one for now. It’ll be meh…(I highkey think it’s bad but wtv)
Long after the Invincible War, you were still intrigued by all the versions of your boyfriend that had come into your world to reek havoc and chaos. Most were dead, some were in prison, and some were thrown into whatever place they went to. Being a superpowered scientist under Cecil had its perks–you got to not only examine and see these variants, but you also got to speak to them (only with the supervision of your world's Mark of course). Your visits grew more and more frequent to them, it went from once a month, to once a week, to 3 times a week. They had memorized the times you visited, the clack of your heels, and your pen clicking before you entered their cell each time.
Your Mark always complained–sometimes it was genuine concern for your safety and reasoning, other times, it was clear and blatant jealousy.
“Why do you always want to go see those bastards, they almost destroyed the entire world. Not only that one of them almost crushed you to fucking death! If this gets too bad we're not seeing them again…” he was annoyed–making good and fair points. Sadly, you were too stubborn to attempt to listen to them.
“You've almost crushed me to death before,” you said with a shrug as you kept walking down the long hall getting ready to get to the cell that held the marks.
“WHAT!? When was this?” Mark had stopped for a second now having genuine concern as he hadn't remembered ever doing that. He tried his best to make sure you were protected from anything and everything.
“You crushed me plenty of times in bed–it's ok though because I've crushed you back just as much so we're even.” you had one smug ass smirk on your face seeing Mark's annoyed one before you two finally made it to the room. Before you could swipe your keycard to enter the room, Mark grabbed your arm having you stop and listen to what he had to say. “I'm serious babe…let them get out of line and we aren't seeing them again, they'll just rot in here till Cecil finds something to do with them.”
You used your free hand, swiping the keycard as the door opened. You turned to your mark lifting his chin with your pen as he looked prepared to hear whatever you had to say.
“I will decide when this research is over. However, you know if you want it to truly end and for me to stay out of this cell, you would only need to tell Cecil you won't accompany me anymore. Until you do that…we're continuing.”
You were stern and stubborn, meaning every single word you said. You finally pulled the pen down—giving his cheek a soft kiss before walking into the cell.
“Well, we see who wears the pants in your little relationship.” The mark with the mohawk said before he just started laughing trying to bother and mock your mark as best as he could.
“Hey well at least I get to leave here, I'm not locked in a fucking cell with my arms hanging up!” your mark snarled back–getting closer to Mohawk Mark as they glared each other down.
Sinister Mark cut into the conversation, having a lot worse to say about your mark and his “submission” to you.
“Hey, does she fuck you too? I just wanna get a full scope on how pussy you are! God, you're pathetic…weak…”
They were being little assholes ganging up against your mark, all besides the viltrumite one. He was just silent, observing your behaviors. As those 3 bickered, you walked up to him with crossed arms.
“Nothing to say?” You asked leaning in closer to his face. He backed up as best as he could, struggling to even move a bit because of his restraints but he found small ways.
“No…bitch…” he said before scrunching up his lips. You just leaned into him closer and closer knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. “Don’t your people have a thing for respecting higher-ups? Am I not higher up right now?” You were absolutely smug watching as his expression kind of dropped. He knew you were right and he hated every bit about it.
The cell was silent now…the other marks wondered why he stopped fighting back, falling silent.
“Don’t tell me you're all pussy now too!?” Mohawk Mark had said in a snarky tone. Your mark was walking up to you to pull you back from him. You raised your hand stopping him from coming closer as you used your other hand, softly rubbing viltrumite Mark'sk'sace.
He jolted from your touch for a second—not being used to anything like it at all. However, he had been in that cold cell for days, weeks even, with no warmth whatsoever. He melted into your hand as you kept rubbing it softly—he felt odd…like he had never felt before. He released soft huffs the whole time until you finally stepped back.
“W..wait-“ he exclaimed trying to get your attention again. Before he could even say what he wanted, sinister Mark butted in.
“What the hell did you just do to him!? He’s never been like that ever!”
Your mark wanted to be filled in as well, waiting for your response.
“I just touched 'em relax.” You were honestly shocked yourself.
“C'monn…let’s go, your mark said wanting to get the hell out of there. The other marks were getting angry and you were touching another mark…one that wasn’t yours—it made him a bit jealous.
“Wait wait…I wanna something…” you said with a grin as you rushed to Mohawk Mark. He looked a bit annoyed but intrigued. You drew closer and closer as the other marks watched once again—it’s all they could do…
“Listen whore, I’m not your mark…so hands off.” He said in a snarky tone. You just kept moving your hands towards his face not giving a damn, you were testing every ounce of patience he had.
“I will fucking bite you! I promise it…” Mohawk Mark tried to move his head back as quickly as he could to get away from your hand. Eventually, it landed right on his forehead before moving upward, softly stroking his hair. He tried to bite you for a second so you used your powers. With a hard glare from your eyes, his body was paralyzed in mere seconds as you rubbed it softly. You released your hold on his body just as fast as you used it.
You kept stroking his head, you saw him moving his head forward as best as he could so you could keep going. Your other hand reached up to his face, squishing it softly before you began to stroke it. He let out a noise of pure satisfaction…a soft moan. As soon as he realized, you backed up satisfied with your work on his behavior. He went from snarling and snapping to melting in your hand.
Your mark grabbed your shoulder, making a notation to get the hell out of there. You just gave him a soft kiss trying to keep him satisfied as you had one more mark to deal with. You knew your mark was getting jealous quickly so you had to hurry it up.
As soon as you walked over to sinister mark in his restraints he spat on your face. The other marks watched waiting to see what happened your mark dashed over to you as he began a screaming match with sinister mark.
Ignoring them and all their noise, you just spat right back on his face as the room fell silent. You were even now—the only difference was you could wipe the spit off of your face but he couldn’t get it off of his. Your hand reached up to his face as he prepared to bite you but you flicked his nose before continuing. You rubbed his hair—making it messy in mere seconds before you looked him dead in the eyes, smiling warmly.
“I promise you, if you ever spit on my face again I will break your face in.”
Your mark was just frozen in the spot waiting for this interaction to finish. Sinister Mark's eyes widened a bit before going back to normal—he was surprised at how you could look so gentle while threatening him.
“Yes bitch…” he said in a snarky tone trying to get some power back in the situation. You smiled before pinching and twisting at his nose. He couldn’t do a single damn thing about it.
“Huh? What’d you say?” You waited for him to change his manner of speaking. Your mark reached to pull your arm down as you 2 shared a look. He was trying to figure out what you were even doing but you gave him a glance that said you could handle it.
“Yes…ma’am” sinister Mark said in an annoyed tone this was basically his version of surrendering defeat. Your hand went to his face stroking it just like you did to the others. At first he acted like he didn’t give a single fuck about you or your touch—seconds later he was melted into your cheek moving his own face to have it happen faster. You stroked his face slower and began scratching his hair as Mohawk Mark began complaining how that wasn’t fair. Sinister mark was losing himself—lifting his chin to have that touch and rubbed to. He bit his lip trying to keep in any sounds he would’ve made but eventually one slipped out.
“F…fuck…” he moaned out roughly before you moved your hand away from him
“Good boy.” You said back with bliss in your voice. You honestly felt aroused by the fact you had 4 Marks folding for you just at the simple touch of your hand and sternness in your voice.
“God…what did she do to us…” Viltrumite Mark said sounding embarrassed or even frustrated that that even happened. The other Marks (sinister and Mohawk) just told him to “fuck off” as they kept their heads down in a bit of shame. They were absolutely in shock at how they folded that fast but knew they wanted more. They were pissed that they clearly weren’t getting more.
You had them fold enough for the day. Plus, your Mark looked like he wanted to snap sinister Mark's neck for spitting on you. He was tired of being in that damn room for the day. Your mark grabbed you by the waist giving you a look that said “You needed to leave” You just nodded and let him lead you out of the cell. You and your mark left the cell making your way out of the building. Mark was flying you 2 home as he wanted to talk about what the hell happened.
“So…what was that..” he asked in a genuine and jealous tone. He wanted to know what was up with all of it. Why did you guys keep going back, why were you touching them, how did you make them fold that easily? He wanted answers…
“Honestly…I don’t know. I didn't even think it’d work on the viltrumite one but as soon as it did I just had to try it on the rest of them and it worked. Guess you’re just weak for me in every universe?” You gave the best answer you could to your mark waiting for his response.
“Not gonna lie…I was a bit jealous. They practically killed everyone and now they wanted to fold just cause you touched them!” Mark exclaimed before you kissed his face softly. He had calmed down quickly just from your lips.
“Relax... you're the one who gets to take me home. You win either way. However...I do need you to take me back there tomorrow. It’s something I wanna do with you there. All of you…” you had something a little sinister and against the rules on your mind.
“Again!? What is it…I’m so sick of that place…” your mark wanted to know what you’d do if you went back. He was tired of going there and honestly was ready to never go back again. However, he was trying his best to trust your judgment and see where it’d go.
“Don’t worry about it…just know that you’ll have fun. All of you, trust me. You said with a smile before Mark finally landed, bringing you two to your house. You had plans…foul plans…and you couldn’t wait to put them into action tomorrow.
#invincible mark grayson#invincible x reader#mark grayson#mark grayson smut#mark grayson x reader#shroomyvfics#invincible#mohawk mark#sinister mark#viltrum mark#sorry for this bad ass fic#I’m begging you bear with me#Gimmie a shottttt
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Can't find anywhere that says if your request are open or not, or if you even take them. So if you don't then like totally ignore this.
But like ur Clark Kent fics? Chefs kiss girl, been my favorites from this new wave of clark fics and I had an idea that I would love if u could write. So like basically reader and clark are making out and she tries to take off his glasses and he is like freaked out cause he hasn't told her he is superman but before he can make up any excuse not to take them off she's like "i know", cause she's known he's superman for a while just hasn't told him she knows. (Plus also could be in the same story idk I also had the thought of like the same scenario but clark stopping himself from going any further and reader getting kinda insecure about it for a second but it's actually because he need to take reader out on a proper date first, since they raised him like that)
Anyways sorry for the wall of text, again if you don't take request just ignore this, i love ur fics and yeah that's all bye.
thank you for this sweet message and thanks for your patience while I cooked this up for you my love!! I hope you enjoy!!
hair falling into place like dominos
pairing: Clark Kent x reader
word count: 2.2k
author’s note: for anyone else wondering I do take requests!! please enjoy this fluffy little fic <3
This thing between you and Clark is new, and entirely undefined. It makes you feel all sorts of giddy, makes your head spin and knees weak. You know that at some point, you have to have a real conversation, a real definition of what exists between the two of you, but for now you’re happy with secret smiles in the middle of the office and cheek kisses by your front door.
You haven’t told anyone, mostly because there’s not much to say, but you’re certain everyone already knows, if the way you often feel Jimmy’s eyes on the back of your head when you stop by Clark’s desk for more than a second. You don’t mind, though, even when you find yourself the brunt of your friends’ playful teasing.
“Get a room,” Lois teases, in that deadpan delivery that is so classically her. All you’ve done is smile at Clark from across the way, though being the center of attention had sent him ducking his head, hiding a smile of his own. You just stick your tongue out at your friend before returning back to your work.
Tuned into your work, to the cursor blinking as you try and come up with the right words, you don’t hear Clark when he crosses over to your desk, your heart jumping slightly when he clears his throat. You turn in your chair, delighted to see him standing at your desk.
“Hey, Clark,” you smile at him in greeting, heart fluttering when he smiles back. You might be slightly biased, but you think he might have the nicest smile you’ve ever seen, dimples peeking out and eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I finished that book last night,” he starts, his heart rioting when you beam up at him. You’ve got never-ending recommendations for him, and he dutifully reads them all. As the Daily Planet’s resident book reviewer, you read more than anyone he’s met before, and many of your copies end up in his hands.
Even if he hated them, he’d still find something about them to like, just because you’d given them to him. That hasn’t been a problem, though, because you know him so well that every book you recommend becomes his new favorite, until you pass along the next one.
“Yeah? What’d you think?” You’re so eager to hear his thoughts, you’re practically vibrating.
“It was great, I loved it,” his smile turns down at the corners, morphing into a frown that breaks your heart a little, “I forgot it at my place, though.”
“Oh, no worries,” you say, and when his smile returns it’s like the sun is shining, “just give it back whenever, there’s no rush.”
He grins, and starts to turn back towards his own desk, when an idea takes root. Before you can overthink it, you speak.
“You can always stop by my place and drop it off, if you wanted?” Despite the thing that existed between you, you rarely see Clark outside of work. You’ll meet for coffee or lunch sometimes, but it’s always far too casual, far too friendly to be anything like a date. He walks you home sometimes, leaving a kiss on your cheek when you’re safely at the door.
Seeing the chance for something more, you take it, and the silent seconds when Clark thinks it over are the most stressful moments of your life.
“Yeah, sure,” he turns to face you, even as he walks back toward his desk, “sounds great.” You’re grinning at each other when he bumps into the corner of his desk, sending everything rattling. You can’t help but laugh as his smile turns sheepish, and you can barely focus on your work for the rest of the day, your mind racing.
The rest of your day is spent spiraling. You write a sentence, and then delete it. You open an email, and stare at the blank response, unable to formulate words. You’re unable to do anything but ruminate on the brashness, the forwardness of your offer.
It’s really not that big of a deal, at least not as big as you’re making it out to be. Even if there wasn’t this sweet, delicate thing growing between you and Clark, friends still see each other outside of work all the time. Friends spend the evenings at each other’s apartment, just the two of them.
But friends probably don’t spend half of the working day turning sentences and responses over and over in their brain, unable to accomplish anything. For the last hour of your day, you just watch the minutes tick by in the corner of your computer screen, jumping up the second it’s time to head home.
You wave to Jimmy and Lois, sending Clark a quick smile as he packs his things. Typically, you’d wait for him, and he’d walk you to your apartment like the gentleman he is, but all you’re able to think about is the pile of laundry you haven’t folded sitting by your couch and the dishes that need to be put away in the sink.
Scrambling, you manage to make it home and complete all the tasks gnawing at the back of your mind before there’s a knock on the door, just loud enough to be heard but not so loud that it would disturb your neighbors.
Clark always manages to maintain the balance. He seems to straddle the space between friends and something more with ease, while you spend every free second wondering if you smile at him too much, if you give too much away when you press a kiss to his cheek.
Opening the door, the sight before you almost makes your jaw drop. Clark’s still in the clothes he wore to work, suit jacket thrown over his shoulder and the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up at the elbows. He’s got his briefcases, your book tucked safely inside, in one hand, while the other holds a bouquet of colorful flowers.
“I couldn’t show up empty handed,” he says, bashful, when he sees you staring at the flowers.
“But you brought the book,” you retort, a smile on your face. You’re over the moon about the flowers, unable to remember the last time someone had bought them for you.
He just shrugs, handing the bouquet to you.
“Maybe I just wanted to bring you flowers,” he says, and you bury your face in the blooms, inhaling deeply so he can’t see the way your grin threatens to overtake your entire face.
It’s not until he’s stepping inside your apartment when you realize how windswept he looks. His hair is all sorts of tousled, his cheeks pink like he’d ran the distance from his place to yours. It makes your heart flutter, and when you have to shift around him, a hand on his shoulder, to shut your door, you think you may pass out.
The paperback, which he’d dug out of his bag while you’d closed the door, looks tiny in his hand. Your head is already spinning, and that sight doesn’t help.
“You want another recommendation?” You ask, still clutching the flowers he’d brought you, afraid that if you let them go or set them down they’d disappear, a figment of your imagination.
“Course I do,” he smiles, always so earnest, always listening without complaining or rolling his eyes when you head off on tangents about books the way your other coworkers do.
Unwillingly, you set the flowers down gently on your counter on your way to one of your many overflowing bookshelves. Between the books you read for work, the ones you read for fun, and the well-loved copies of books you’d owned for years, they take up most of your apartment. They spill from your shelves, covering your cover table and your nightstand, peaking out of bags and stacked on the floor.
You crouch, running your fingers along the spines of your most worn copies, your favorite books that you’ve read over and over throughout the years.
“Oh, Frankenstein!” You pull the book from its place, turning towards Clark. As you’d searched, he’d leaned against the doorway to your living room, arms crossed over his chest and straining against the fabric of his white shirt.
The sight makes your mouth go dry.
“Have you read it?” You ask, already crossing the space with the book in your hand.
“Not since high school,” he takes the book from you, practically cradling it in his large hands as he softly leafs through it. The pages are soft with age, with love, and there are notes left in the margins from when you’d read it for a school assignment.
“Just ignore how pretentious those notes are, I was sixteen and thought I was a genius,” you’re a little preemptively embarrassed at the thought of him reading the little notes you’d left for yourself in the margins, but at the same time, you want him to read them. You want him to understand you deeper, your thought process and internal monologue as you read.
“You are a genius,” he counters, sincere even though he speaks around a smile, “every piece you’ve ever written has been perfect. I can’t imagine this would be any different.”
He’s looking down at you, head tilted just so with his eyes all wide and open, daring you to open your heart to him. As always, you think about what it would be like to kiss him, to finally really kiss him. And so, riding that wave of fearlessness you’d felt earlier when you invited him over, you place your hands softly on his jaw, starting to lessen the space between you.
Moving slowly, you give him plenty of time to stop, plenty of opportunities to pull away and let you down gently. Instead, he meets you in the middle, the book falling to the floor as he moves to hold you around the waist. When you finally kiss, it’s like the world finally makes sense, like everything falls into place.
Just like he does everything, Clark kisses with care, with a gentleness that’s unexpected in a man of his size, his stature. You’re impossibly close, but the way he holds you isn’t bruising, just firm, just enough to let you know that he’s got you, that your knees could buckle and he’d keep you upright.
It’s perfect, everything you’d been dreaming of after those cheek kisses by your front door. Your hands are searching, moving from his jaw to the side of his face, fingertips in his hair. His glasses, which you always adore, keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, bumping against your own.
You slot your pointer finger into the space between the lenses and the arms, ready to slip them off when Clark stills, pulls back.
“What?” You ask, heart stilling and on the verge of shattering completely, “are you okay?” You let your hands fall, hanging limp by your side as you take a step back, just far enough for his arms around you to go slack.
“I’m so sorry, Clark, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Shame runs through you hot and deep, and you’re wishing that the floor would miraculously open up and swallow you whole.
“No, that’s not-“ he struggles for words, and you watch his hands clench and unclench by his sides, “that was great.” He laughs softly, the picture of awkwardness, before he continues, “I just… need to keep the glasses on.”
“Ok,” you nod, still more embarrassed than you’ve been in your entire life, “ok. But if this is about the whole you being Superman thing, you don’t have to worry about that.”
He stills completely then, eyes going wide before he clears his throat.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he’s trying and failing completely at looking casual, the panic still written clear as day across his face.
“Seriously?” You grin, and he turns sheepish again, realizing that there’s no way out.
“How’d you know?” He changes tack, and the both of you relax. Your hands come up to rest on his shoulders while his find their home on your waist.
“Well, you’ve both got that cute little curl that falls onto your forehead,” you start, grinning up at him, “and you’re both over six feet tall, there aren’t that many tall guys in Metropolis. And…”
You trail off, letting the tension build for Clark as you attempt to hold off your laughter.
“Once when we were stuck late at work I saw you take your glasses off,” you finish, and Clark hangs his head as he laughs. You just can’t help yourself, stretching upward to kiss him, both of you grinning against each other. It’s awkward, but it’s perfect.
“How about,” he starts, even as you keep pressing kisses against him, “I take you out to dinner tomorrow, and we can finish this then?”
“You wanna take me out?” You can’t help as your smile fades into something softer, feeling giddier than you’ve ever been before.
“Course I do,” he presses a kiss to the center of your forehead, “I’ve been wanting to ask for a while. Just didn’t have the nerve yet.”
Despite the urge to kiss him forever, to tug him towards your bedroom and keep him there for the rest of the night, you simply kiss him on the cheek, right near his dimple, the same spot you’d kissed a thousand times before.
#clark kent#clark kent x reader#clark kent x you#clark kent fanfiction#clark kent fanfic#clark kent fic#clark kent fluff#superman x reader#superman x you#superman fanfiction#superman fanfic#superman fic#superman 2025#david corenswet superman
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skz x reader who has biting as their love language and make it written:D
GIVE ME YOUR LOVE&AFFECTION!
this is just some short little stories as i’m trying to get back into writing slowly!! i hope u enjoy :3 i was meant to post this a couple hours ago but i guy invited me over so…
CHAN
Catches on quickly. The first time it happens its a quick nip to his upper arm, mid hug. He pauses. Blinks once and looks down at you, eyebrows raised.
And thats that.
Chan, being Chan, doesn't make a big deal out of it. Over time, he even adjusts to it, anticipates it. Now, when you nuzzle into his neck and your teeth gently press into the curve of his shoulder, he simply lets out a quiet hum and wraps his arm around you tighter.
"You've been good today," he murmurs once, tugging his sleeve down up and holding out his wrist. "You want a snack?"
You bite, of course. And then kiss the same spot, just to be extra annoying. He never complains.
In fact, he starts kissing your forehead every time you bite him. A ritual of sorts. One action met with another, a silent conversation of shared love.
LEE KNOW
The first time you bite him, he stops moving entirely. Not in a stunned way, not in a casual way either.
Calculated. Judging.
You watch the slow turn of his head as he stares down at the bite mark on his bicep. "Did you just bite me?" He breathes out. He's not actually sure why he asked when he already knows the answer.
"Yes." You answer simply, leaning into his touch.
He pauses. Then, flatly, "Seek help."
But he doesn't pull away.
Not the second time, or the third. In fact, he starts tilting his head slightly when you approach, offering easier access to his shoulder, his arm, his neck.
He pretends to hate it. Rolls his eyes everytime. But one day, when you don't bite him, too tired, too distracted, he nudges you with his foot.
And just like that, you know he's completely surrendered to it.
CHANGBIN
Your teeth leave little crescents on his bicep after a back hug. You don't mean to bite too hard, just enough to feel him. Remind yourself he's there.
He looks down, then up, then chuckles like he's not even surprised.
"Cute," He says, flexing under your hold. "I didn't even feel that."
You narrow your eyes. "Oh?"
He grins. "C'mon, baby. You can do better than that."
After that, it becomes a game. He flexes, you bite harder. You sneak bites in when he's not paying attention. He acts like he's made of steel and refuses to acknowledge it.
But when you're quiet, when you press your forehead to his shoulder and bite down, not for fun but to ground yourself, he stills. No teasing, no jokes.
Just a hand cradling the back of your head, his voice like soft honey in your ear. "You okay?"
And when you nod, he kisses your temple, long and slow.
HYUNJIN
You bite his shoulder during a cuddle. Not hard, just a small nip. Warm. Familiar.
Hyunjin stills, and then turns to you slowly, eyes narrowed like you've personally betrayed him. "You bit me," He says, dramatically clutching the spot.
"I love you," you reply simply. He exhales like you've just confessed to a crime.
"You know, most people kiss."
After that, he wears sleeveless tees suspiciously often. Offers out his wrist mid hug. Hums when your teeth brush his skin.
And when you kiss him one morning without biting, he frowns. "That's it? Are we fighting?"
You laugh, bite his neck, and he grins.
"Thank you," He sighs. "Now my day can begin.
HAN
You bite him during a movie. Lightly. Right on the forearm. He screams.
Then he pauses, and turns towards you. "Was that an affectionate thing?"
You nod, unbothered.
From that point on, it becomes canon in his brain. You = biter. Bite = love.
He starts showing the bite marks off with pride. To Felix, he rants, "They did this one when I brought them dumplings. Oh, and this ones from-"
But its the quiet ones that affect him. The ones that happen when you're overwhelmed and bite just to stay present. When you sink your teeth into his hoodie sleeve during a panic attack. When you hold his arm too tightly and leave faint imprints.
He doesn't make a sound then. Just holds you, brushes his thumb over the mark like its a secret language only he can read.
FELIX
You bite his collarbone once, without thinking, during a sleepy cuddle. He giggles.
"Was that a kiss or a bite?"
"Bite."
"Oh. I liked it." And he means it. Fully. Enthusiastically.
From then on, he keeps pointing out new spots. "Try here- Oh, what about this spot on my shoulder?" He treats it like a love stamp. Something unique to your relationship. Something warm.
His shoulder, his arm, even once his cheek. "Go ahead, I don't mind. Just be gentle."
And when you get shy about it, like maybe its too weird, he cradles your face and goes, "You don't have to explain, love. I know its how you care."
You bite his wrist gently, and he exhales like he's been holding his breath.
"There you are," he whispers, kissing your forehead. "I missed that."
SEUNGMIN
"You bit me." He says flatly.
"Yes?"
He stares. "Like.. with your teeth."
"Yes."
"Don't." He answers. You roll your eyes.
Seungmin doesn't stop complaining, but he also doesn't stop you. If you bite him during hugs, he'll just sigh and mutter something sarcastic, but his hand always comes up to cradle the back of your head.
And when you haven't bitten him in days, stressed, exhausted, distant, he pokes your arm and says, "Everything okay?"
You bite him right then, and he smiles. "Thought so."
JEONGIN
He panics.
The first time you bite him, he yelps and turns to you like a scared puppy. You have to convince him after that you're not mad at him, and he didn't do anything wrong.
It takes some explaining.
But once he gets it, once he really, truly understands it, he adapts so fast.
Starts leaning into it, holding out his arm to you, He starts to expect it. Waits for it. Gets quiet when it doesn't happen.
You notice his quiet demeanour, and walk over. You bite him and then immediately kiss it after, and he blushes so red he has to walk away.
He never recovers.
#stray kids#skz imagines#skz#skz scenarios#skz x reader#bang chan#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#lee know#minho#minho x reader#changbin x reader#seo changbin#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin#han x reader#han jisung#skz han#lee felix#felix x reader#seungmin#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#jeongin#skz stay#1 800 writes#written#fluff#love language#stray kids x reader
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Hello! 🧚🏼
I'm not sure if you have any specific rules or guidelines when it comes to requesting, however I absolutely adore all of your poly fics and I've reread them so often! I'm just wondering if you'd ever consider doing a Yuki x Pierre x Reader? I'm open to anything with them honeslty. Your writing is so so good!! <3
If you aren't okay with it, that's absolutely no worries at all! ⭐️✨
(anything for you baby doll) (u made me blush and i hope you enjoy the fic)
haute and bothered — pg10 + yt22
smau + blurbs
pierre gasly x !hadjar fashion editor reader x yuki tsunoda
isack hadjar x !older sister fashion editor reader
YN Hadjar is Vogue France’s sharpest editor and the undisputed definition of elegance. A force in the fashion world, she’s used to front rows, flashing cameras, and never being the one caught off guard. But when she crosses paths with her younger brother’s teammate and his best friend at a fashion event, a playful request for style advice quickly unravels into something far more complicated—and far more intoxicating.
fc : aylin elma + various pinterest gals
before you read! : isack + yuki are still teammates for plot purposes— thank u, love u, bye
—
yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, voguefrance, olliebearman and 1,205,777 others.
yn_hadjar : where to next? ✈️💐
—
view 127,045 other comments.
isackhadjar : how about to come see your little brother and go to one of his races? 🙄
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : we are literally going to the same event tonight and i’ve cleared my weekend for you. can we please keep the dramatics to a minimum?
liked by isackhadjar
username0 : yn! will you be dressing isack for the event?
↳ yn_hadjar : obv. i cannot be seen with him in something that he came up with.
↳ isackhadjar : she literally used to set out my clothes for school the next day and she still does it for me now.
liked by yn_hadjar and username0
username15 : everyone shut up. these two r so important to me.
voguefrance : our girllll 😻🔥
liked by yn_hadjar
visacashapprb : we can’t wait for our fave sibling duo to be reunited 💙
liked by yn_hadjar and isackhadjar
jacquemus : we 💛 you!
liked by yn_hadjar
olliebearman : my favorite fashion icon
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : my favorite f1 rookie
liked by olliebearman
↳ isack_hadjar : excusez-moi???
liked by yn_hadjar and olliebearman
yn_hadjar : he goes out of his way to read my editorials. do you???
liked by olliebearman
↳ isack_hadjar : no comment.
lewishamilton : 🔥🔥
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ isack_hadjar : can you two date so he can be part of the family?
liked by lewishamilton and yn_hadjar
yn_hadjar : menace
alexandrasaintmleux : si belle ma chérie <3
liked by yn_hadjar
—
yn_hadjar added posts to her story!

seen by isackhadjar, olliebearman, yukitsunoda0511 & 1,809,253 others.
{caption 1 : @/hugo_official event tonight} {caption 2 : someone tell him to take this off and put on what i pick out before i disown him.}
olliebearman : just disown him and adopt me as your brother
liked by yn_hadjar
yn_hadjar : deal
isackhadjar : i kinda got ts on tho
liked by yn_hadjar
yn_hadjar : you look like a gym teacher not like you’re about to be on a red carpet representing your team.
isackhadjar : fine then what event would you approve this outfit for
yn_hadjar : save it for your mid life crisis era
visacashapprb : thank you for making him change, yn.
liked by yn_hadjar
yukitsunoda0511 : can’t wait for my styling class you promised :)
liked by yn_hadjar
yn_hadjar : can’t wait for that meal you promised to make me after
pierregasly : si jolie mon amour
liked by yn_hadjar
yn_hadjar : merci mon angeeeee
—
I didn’t knock. I stormed into Isack’s hotel room like a woman on a mission—because I was. We had exactly ninety minutes until the Hugo event, and if my beloved younger brother showed up looking like a clown, it would somehow reflect badly on me. And sure enough, the universe really said, “Let’s test her.” I stopped cold. He turned around slowly, like he’d been waiting for this moment. Like he knew exactly what he’d done.
“Isack.”
He was wearing a shiny, deep red satin shirt, only half-buttoned, tucked into chaotically patterned pants that clashed so hard I actually squinted. And to top it all off? White Oakleys. Inside.
“What. The hell. Are you wearing.”
He gave me the most infuriating smile known to man. “It’s giving ‘fashion-forward driver off-duty,’ no?”
“It’s giving ’man lost in the sale bin at a Las Vegas souvenir shop.’” I walked in and tossed my bag on the bed. “Take. It. Off.”
"YN. Come on. It's kind of iconic."
“It’s kind of traumatic.”
He laughed, clearly proud of himself. “I wanted to see how mad I could make you before you threatened violence.”
“You’re so lucky we share DNA.”
I yanked open the garment bag hanging on the back of the door and pulled out the actual look he was supposed to wear— tailored black trousers, the clean charcoal turtleneck, and that sharp Hugo jacket that made him look like he belonged in a campaign. My campaign.
“You’re wearing this. Non-negotiable.”
“Jeez. Do you treat all your models like this?”
“No. Just the ones who try to show up to a luxury fashion event dressed like Pitbull’s stylist during a midlife crisis.”
He muttered something under his breath as he started unbuttoning the shirt, but I was too busy hiding a smile to care. Honestly, I didn’t know what was waiting for us downstairs or who else would be there. I just knew that if Isack made his red carpet debut in that outfit, I’d have to resign from fashion entirely. And that was simply not an option.
—
The Hugo event was in full swing by the time we arrived—cameras flashing, music pulsing, champagne being passed around like water. Isack, thankfully, looked decent in the outfit I’d forced him into. Better than decent, actually. Smug little bastard knew it too. We stepped inside the venue and he immediately peeled off to talk to someone from the team. I stayed behind near the bar, doing a lazy scan of the room. Models, stylists, influencers, the usual mix. I was half-distracted answering an email when I heard Isack’s voice again—closer this time.
“YN,” he said, a little too casually. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
I looked up. Next to him stood Yuki Tsunoda, who I recognized from the grid but had never actually met. He was dressed immaculately—double-breasted navy suit, crisp collar, Hugo brooch pinned just so. And standing beside him, just slightly behind, was Pierre Gasly. All charm and smirk, wearing that kind of black turtleneck that only worked when you were French and stupidly handsome.
Yuki gave me a polite smile. “Hi. Teammate-slash-regretful Oakley enabler.”
I blinked, caught off guard by how quick he was. “So you’re the one who told him the sunglasses were a good idea.”
Yuki nodded solemnly. “I can’t be trusted before 6 p.m.”
I laughed—genuinely. “Well. At least you’re self-aware.”
Isack, annoyingly pleased with himself, gestured between us. “YN, Yuki. Yuki, YN. This is my very controlling older sister. She works at Vogue. Bosses people around. Yells at me a lot.”
“I keep him alive,” I corrected.
Yuki’s eyes twinkled. “She yells fashionably.”
Pierre stepped forward then, offering his hand. “And I’m just the plus-one. Pierre.”
“Vogue France,” I replied, shaking it with a tilt of my head. “YN Hadjar. And no one is just the plus-one if they wear a turtleneck that well.”
He grinned, teeth flashing. “Merci. I dressed to impress.”
“You succeeded.”
Isack groaned like we were already too much. “I shouldn’t have introduced any of you. I can feel the ego growing in the room.”
“Relax,” I said, taking a flute of champagne from a passing tray. “If anything, this might be the most normal group here.”
Yuki raised his glass. “Cheers to that.”
—
The party had started to blur. Most of the photographers had cleared out, the music had slowed to something low and hypnotic, and people were either drunk, half-asleep on velvet couches, or deep in conversation with whoever they were hoping to leave with. I’d lost Isack about an hour ago—probably cornered by a PR rep or sneaking off to find sliders. I was tucked into a quieter corner of the venue, perched on a velvet bench with a glass of wine in hand, shoes dangling from my fingers. And somehow—like gravity knew exactly what it was doing—Yuki and Pierre ended up there with me. They’d brought more drinks. I wasn’t even sure when they left to get them.
“This is your version of relaxing?” Pierre asked, settling in beside me with one arm stretched along the back of the booth. His thigh brushed mine casually—but it stayed there. “Watching the fashion crowd fall apart after midnight?”
“It’s better than the Met Gala,” I teased, swirling the wine in my glass. “No one’s pretending to be sober.”
Yuki laughed, sitting on my other side, close enough for our shoulders to touch. “You really know everyone in this world, don’t you?”
“I’m paid to,” I said, shrugging. “It’s part of the job. Know the faces, the designers, the drama. And make sure the magazine doesn’t implode.”
Pierre leaned in slightly, eyes warm. “So what happens when we ask you for your professional opinion?”
I arched a brow. “You mean you’re not just here for the free champagne and Isack’s tragic outfit reveal?”
Yuki smirked. “That was worth the invite alone.”
Pierre tilted his head. “But seriously. If someone… let’s say two very handsome drivers, wanted to evolve their wardrobes. Less teamwear, more… effortless Parisian heartthrob—could you help?”
I looked between the two of them—Pierre’s charming grin, Yuki’s quiet curiosity. The idea was ridiculous. And kind of… adorable.
“You want me to style you?” I asked, pretending to sound skeptical, even as something fluttered in my chest.
Pierre gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Why not? You have the eye. And we trust your taste.”
Yuki added, voice a little softer now, “We trust you.”
That—that—was what did it. The way he said it. Like it wasn’t a throwaway line. I let the silence sit for a second, the energy shifting in that charged, unspoken way you don’t quite want to look at too directly.
“Fine,” I said, lifting my glass. “But if I style you, you have to give me full control. No last-minute Oakleys. No sneakers with suits. No team caps unless we’re on a track.”
Pierre lifted his glass to mine. “Deal.”
Yuki smiled, slow and sure. “As long as you’re the one undressing us.”
I choked on my wine.
Pierre smacked him lightly on the shoulder, laughing while very pointedly not denying anything. And me? I just sat there between them, flushed and flustered, fully aware I might be in so much trouble. And maybe… maybe I didn’t mind one bit.
—
The fitting studio I booked was quiet—no interns, no stylists, no chaos. Just warm lighting, racks of carefully curated looks, a stack of espresso cups on the side table, and two very smug drivers sprawled across the velvet couch like they were born for it.
“Okay,” I said, clapping once for drama. “Fashion boot camp begins now.”
Pierre stretched his arms behind his head. “I’m ready to be transformed.”
Yuki leaned back with that deceptively innocent look on his face. “Are you going to watch us change, or…?”
“Don’t tempt me,” I muttered under my breath, already pulling hangers from the rack.
I handed Yuki a dark forest green suit with a satin lapel and shoved Pierre a moody charcoal turtleneck and tailored check trousers. They disappeared behind the curtain with too many smirks and zero urgency, clearly enjoying how flustered I already was. Pierre stepped out first, tugging the sleeves into place, and honestly? He looked unfairly good. Like something from a magazine I’d kill to shoot for.
He turned in front of the mirror, then looked at me over his shoulder. “Well?”
I crossed my arms. “Could use a belt.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You gonna help me with that too?”
Before I could answer, Yuki appeared—and my mouth actually fell open.
The suit fit like it was tailored to his existence. Clean lines, sharp collar, a single undone button at the top. He noticed my stare immediately.
“Too much?” he asked, feigning bashfulness.
I blinked. “It’s… dangerous, actually.”
Yuki smirked, stepping closer. “Dangerous how?”
“Dangerous like I might start taking back my professionalism clause.”
Pierre came to stand on my other side. “Remind me—did that clause include hands-on adjustments?”
He was teasing, but there was something in the air now. He was close. They both were. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of them, smell their cologne. It was suddenly hard to focus on fashion.
“You’re both ridiculous,” I muttered, reaching to adjust the lapel on Yuki’s jacket, fingers brushing his chest. He didn’t move. Then I turned to Pierre, smoothing the shoulder seam, just barely grazing his collarbone. He didn’t move either.
“You’re blushing,” Yuki said softly, and I hated that he was right.
“You’re both standing way too close,” I whispered.
“Maybe we like it here,” Pierre replied, voice low, steady.
It hit me then—how easy this had become. The three of us in a quiet studio, skin brushing, laughter on our lips, heat simmering just below the surface. I had invited them here to play stylist, to stay in control. But somewhere in the middle of the zippers and buttons and side glances, I’d lost my upper hand. And for once… I didn’t really care.
—
I was trying to play it cool. Trying to pretend I didn’t just spend the last hour dressing two of the most dangerously attractive men alive and getting thoroughly wrecked by the way they looked in my clothes. Professionally speaking, of course. But then Pierre ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the mirror like he belonged in a Saint Laurent campaign, and Yuki looked at me with that quiet, unreadable expression of his—the one that always made me feel like he already knew what I was thinking.
“You didn’t give us a grade,” Pierre said. “On our final looks.”
I exhaled, tucking my phone back into my pocket. “You passed. Barely.”
Yuki grinned. “That sounds like a dinner-worthy score.”
I looked between them. “You want to go to dinner like this? Fully styled?”
Pierre tilted his head. “You did say no team caps. We’re trying to be on our best behavior.”
Yuki stepped closer, casual but intentional. “Come on. We’ll feed you. You’ve been working hard. You’ve earned a glass of wine that doesn’t taste like it came from the Hugo party’s gift bag.”
I raised a brow. “Are you bribing me with carbs and alcohol?”
Pierre smiled slowly. “Is it working?”
It was. God, it so was. And maybe it was the lighting or the way they were both looking at me—equal parts challenge and invitation—but suddenly dinner didn’t feel like just dinner. It felt like… the next page of something we weren’t ready to name yet. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, fighting a smile. “Fine. But if we’re going out, you’re both paying. For emotional labor. And trauma. From Isack’s outfit this morning.”
Yuki laughed. “Fair.”
Pierre offered his arm like a damn movie character. “Lead the way, Hadjar.”
I took it—of course I did—and let Yuki fall into step beside me. And as the three of us stepped out into the night, our reflections in the shop window caught my eye. We looked good together.
—
Dinner was supposed to be normal. A low-key place tucked into a side street in the 7th arrondissement. Candlelight flickering against the windows, soft jazz humming in the background, and a little corner table that Pierre insisted on—for privacy, he said with a wink. I’d let them order for me. I was too busy trying to process what exactly this was. A friendly dinner? A thank-you? A tease? I didn’t know. But I was wearing heels again. And lip gloss. So it wasn’t nothing.
Pierre had undone the top two buttons of his shirt, gold chain peeking through. Yuki looked effortless in a crisp white tee under a jacket I hadn’t even realized I picked for him earlier. They looked like trouble. Like my trouble. Conversation was easy—almost too easy. Laughter flowing, legs brushing occasionally beneath the table. We talked about the grid, my job, fashion week disasters, and how Yuki once fell asleep mid-photoshoot.
“I was jet-lagged,” he said, totally unapologetic.
Pierre chuckled. “The stylist threatened to cry. He still follows Yuki on Instagram.”
Yuki smirked, taking a sip of wine, and then leaned toward me just a little. “Would you cry if we fell asleep during a fitting?”
“I’d make sure you didn’t wake up in anything flattering,” I shot back.
That earned a soft laugh—and then, casually, effortlessly, Yuki let his hand fall under the table. And found my knee. My brain short-circuited. It wasn’t a graze. It wasn’t an accident. His fingers curled lightly just above the hem of my skirt, warm and unhurried. Just… there. Not possessive. Not demanding. Just… interested. I swallowed. Pierre didn’t notice at first. He was halfway through a story about a party and a very confused DJ. But then his gaze drifted down. He saw the way I shifted in my seat, just slightly. The way Yuki’s hand stayed. And his expression changed. Slowly. He smirked. Looked back up at me.
“You okay?” he asked, innocently.
I cleared my throat. “Mhm. Wine’s strong.”
Pierre leaned closer, voice low. “Is it the wine… or the company?”
I didn’t answer. Because Yuki was tracing slow, gentle circles against my thigh now, his face unreadable, like we weren’t in a room full of people. Pierre’s foot tapped mine under the table. Light. Intentional. Okay. So I wasn’t imagining this. I set down my fork, took a long sip of wine, and smiled—sweet, measured, practiced.
“Both,” I said. “Obviously.”
They didn’t push. Not yet. Just sat back, smug and satisfied, the tension between us like a stretched silk ribbon, ready to snap. And I realized then—this dinner wasn’t just dinner.
—
The air outside had that warm, early summer weight to it—the kind that clung to your skin like a secret. We left the restaurant slowly, like no one wanted to break whatever fragile thing had formed between the wine and the way Yuki’s hand lingered on my thigh. Pierre walked on my right, close enough that our arms brushed every few steps. Yuki was on my left, quiet but there, his hand grazing the small of my back as we waited for the crosswalk light to change. Paris looked soft at night. Golden. But the silence between us buzzed with anything but calm.
“You live around here?” Pierre asked casually, like he didn’t already know from the reservation name and the way I’d reflexively glanced down the street.
“Mhm,” I replied, lips curled just slightly. “About five minutes.”
Yuki looked over. “We could walk you.”
“You are walking me.”
“Then maybe we finish the job.”
I bit back a smile. When we reached my building, I stopped on the steps, keys dangling between my fingers. They both turned toward me, waiting. Expectant, but never pushing.
“You could come up,” I said carefully, not looking at either of them yet. “Just for a bit. If you want.”
Pierre tilted his head, slow grin spreading. “Are you inviting us up because you want help reorganizing your closet?”
I looked at him. “I’m inviting you up because I had dinner with two men who managed to flirt, emotionally destabilize me, and look criminally good in every outfit I styled. So. No. Not for the closet.”
Yuki’s smile was softer. But his eyes held something heavier. “We don’t have to come in.”
I finally met his gaze. “I know.”
And I did. That was the thing. There was no pressure here—just possibility. The kind of quiet, magnetic maybe that I’d spent years writing off. But tonight? With them? It didn’t feel like a risk. It felt inevitable. I pushed the door open. And when I looked back over my shoulder, they were already following me in—Pierre with that devil-may-care confidence, Yuki with that quiet steadiness that somehow made me feel safer than I expected.
I closed the door behind us, letting the soft click of the lock settle between us. Pierre wandered further in, glancing around with casual curiosity—his fingertips dragging across the back of my sofa like he was trying to read the room through touch. Yuki stayed near the door. Watching me. Always watching.
“You really live like a Vogue editor,” Pierre murmured, picking up a coffee table book and flipping it open. “Minimalist. Expensive.”
“I try,” I said, leaning against the entry wall, pulse fluttering under my skin. “Want the tour?”
Yuki raised an eyebrow. “You offering… the apartment? Or something else?”
I blinked at him, and something must’ve shifted in my face, because he smiled like he already knew my answer.
“I don’t play games,” I said, quieter this time.
Pierre had crossed the room by then. He was in front of me before I realized how fast he’d moved, his hand ghosting along my hip. “Good. Because I’m not here to waste time.”
Yuki came closer too—slow and measured. His fingertips grazed mine as he passed me, just a brush, but I felt it in my spine.
“I just want to make sure you want this,” he said, voice low. “That this isn’t about wine or adrenaline or proving a point.”
I looked at him. Then Pierre. Two different energies. One storm. One fire. And somehow, I wanted to get lost in both.
“I invited you up, didn’t I?” I asked.
Pierre smiled like I’d handed him something precious. He leaned in first—his lips brushing mine, warm and teasing. Not claiming. Just tasting. Yuki’s hand slid up the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair. His kiss came next. Slower. Like he had all night. Like I could take as long as I needed to decide. But I didn’t need long. I reached for both of them—tugging Pierre closer by his shirt, letting Yuki pull me against his chest, our bodies finding a rhythm I hadn’t even realized we’d been building all night. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was intentional. Lips on my neck. Fingers on my waist. The kind of warmth that blooms low in your belly and makes you forget your own name. Somehow we made it to the bedroom without breaking apart too long. Jackets hit the floor. Pierre’s chain dangled against my skin. Yuki’s voice whispered things in Japanese that I didn’t understand but felt in my bones. They treated me like something rare. Reverent. Like I was the thing they’d both been waiting for. And when everything finally faded into soft moans and tangled limbs, when my skin was flushed and my breath shaky, I realized—This wasn’t just about pleasure. It was about belonging.
—
yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly & 2,090,555 others.
yn_hadjar : jet lagged as fuck so have a photo dump
—
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chanelofficial : always timeless 🩷🤍
liked by yn_hadjar
username0 : am i delusional or does that look like yuki in the bed??
↳ username15 : i thought the same thing but then the other pic looks like pierre
username0 : oh to be in a yukierre sandwich
isackhadjar : why is there an unknown man in your bed?
↳ yn_hadjar : who said he is unknown?
isackhadjar : i am ending it all
yukitsunoda0511 : don’t remember you taking that
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : u were 😴
username0 : not delusional.
pierregasly : white looks good on me, no?
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : you look good in anything
lilymhe : you are so beautiful it is insane
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : you are so kind 🥺
—
yukitsunoda0511

liked by yn_hadjar, pierregasly, isackhadjar & 1,220,005 others.
yukitsunoda0511 : dubyeeeeee
—
view 52,045 other comments.
pierregasly : still have frosting up my nose
liked by yukitsunoda0511 and yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : my bad
username0 : unexpected trio on a vacay together??
yn_hadjar : was not prepared for a thirst trap on my feed
liked by yukitsunoda0511
↳ yukitsunoda0511 : don't act like you don't like it
liked by yn_hadjar
isackhadjar : are you just a professional third wheel now?
liked by yukitsunoda0511
↳ yukitsunoda0511 : mmm if third wheeling involves being apart of it then sure
username0 : YUKI
—
pierregasly added a post to his story!

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—
yn_hadjar added posts to her story!

seen by alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly, isackhadjar & 3,407,001 others.
{caption 1 : never let me drive in the sand} {caption 2 : i don't want to leave}
pierregasly : you are so beautiful
liked by yn_hadjar
isackhadjar : wait- why are you in dubai too??
↳ yn_hadjar : happened to be over here for something with work
↳ isackhadjar : oh ok
↳ isackhadjar : you look beautiful though ma sœur
liked by yn_hadjar
yn_hadjar : first nice thing you've said in years. love you
liked by isackhadjar
alexandrasaintmleux : i think i am finally catching on here;)
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : glad someone is because isack sure isn't
yukitsunoda0511 : 美少女
liked by yn_hadjar
—
The desert stretched out endlessly beneath a blazing sky, waves of sand rolling like golden ocean tides. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows and painting everything with a soft, honeyed glow. Yuki, Pierre, and I had escaped the noise of the city for a few hours, trading skyscrapers for silence and luxury for raw nature. We stopped the jeep on the crest of a dune, and the world felt impossibly vast and quiet. The wind whispered through the sand, carrying a scent of earth and something wild. I kicked off my shoes, letting the warm grains sift between my toes. Pierre pulled a blanket from the back of the jeep and spread it out. We settled down close, the three of us a small island of warmth in the wide, empty desert. Yuki reached out and took my hand, fingers threading together naturally, as if this had always been meant to be.
“I could stay here forever,” he murmured, eyes soft in the fading light.
I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder. Pierre draped an arm around both of us, and suddenly the desert didn’t feel so big anymore. It felt like home. As the sun sank lower, the sky exploded into color—pinks, oranges, and purples bleeding into one another. We sat in comfortable silence, watching the horizon burn and cool at once. Yuki whispered something funny, and Pierre laughed, the sound low and warm. The first stars began to blink awake above us, shy at first, then confident, until the entire sky was a glittering dome. I felt their hands tighten around mine, grounding me in that perfect moment. The desert was endless and timeless, but right there, wrapped in their arms, I knew exactly where I belonged.
—
The soft chime of the boutique’s doorbell barely registered as I stepped inside, still savoring the warmth of the Dubai sun on my skin. Yuki and Pierre followed close behind, both grinning like they were up to something—which, knowing them, they definitely were.
I was halfway through scanning the latest collection when Pierre’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Hey, have you seen that new limited edition bag from [your favorite designer]? The one with the gold clasp and the little pearls?”
I laughed, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I’ve seen it. It’s beautiful, but honestly, a little impractical.”
Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Says the Vogue editor who probably writes about impractical all the time.”
Pierre winked. “We know you’ve been drooling over it for months.”
I tried to brush it off, but my heart sped up. I hadn’t said much—it was just a tiny detail I’d mentioned once, months ago, during a dinner with Yuki and Pierre. I never expected them to remember. Yuki tugged me toward a quiet corner of the boutique, where a sleek black box rested on a velvet cushion. My breath caught. Pierre opened the box slowly, revealing the bag—exactly the one I’d admired in magazines, the one I’d secretly dreamed of owning.
“Surprise,” Pierre said softly, watching my face light up.
I stared, speechless, the words caught somewhere between shock and joy.
“You actually remembered,” I finally whispered.
Yuki chuckled, sliding an arm around my waist. “Of course we did. You’re kind of hard to forget.”
I reached out, touching the bag like it was something fragile, something magical. “This is… you guys didn’t have to.”
Pierre grinned. “We wanted to.”
I laughed, eyes glossy, heart full. “You two are seriously impossible. But I love you for it.”
—
The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the table, casting warm shadows on crystal glasses and polished silverware. The restaurant was quiet, tucked away in a secluded corner of the hotel, and for once, the world outside felt miles away. Yuki reached across the table, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was tender, deliberate, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Pierre caught my hand next, his fingers curling around mine with a quiet strength that grounded me. The way they both looked at me—like I was the only person in the room—made my heart swell.
“So,” Pierre said softly, voice low and steady, “how does it feel? Being spoiled by us?”
I laughed, eyes shimmering. “Like I’m living in a dream I never want to wake up from.”
Yuki’s grin was slow, mischievous. “Good. Because we’re just getting started.”
We talked through the courses, sharing stories and stolen glances. Every laugh, every brush of skin, pulled us closer. There was something electric in the way their hands found mine under the table—light touches that spoke of promises and possibilities.
Later, as the waiter cleared the plates, Yuki leaned in, whispering, “You make even the quietest moments feel unforgettable.”
Pierre’s eyes softened as he added, “We want to be part of your every moment, YN.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling overwhelmed with everything and nothing all at once. This wasn’t just a dinner. It was a beginning.
“I want that, too,” I whispered back. “With both of you.”
Yuki’s smile was pure warmth. Pierre’s fingers tightened around mine.
—
f1gossipgirls

89,003 likes.
f1gossipgirls : Things looked a little extra on the fashion front this morning—coincidence? We think not. @/yn_hadjar, Vogue France’s top editor (and big sister to Isack Hadjar), is in the paddock today… and suddenly the boys remembered what a steamer is. We spotted more linen, more color, and more intentional fits than we’ve seen all season. Let’s just say—if this is the YN Hadjar effect, we are absolutely here for it. Fashion queens, please stand up.
—
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username0 : ISACK-omg. @/yn_hadjar...do you want a sister in law??
↳ yn_hadjar : if you take over the duty of steaming his clothes...welcome to the fam
username15 : aw yn and ollie!! he rlly is her favorite rookie
↳ yn_hadjar : that's my boy. i don't play about him.
liked by olliebearman
username10 : it isn't the YN effect for Yuki and Pierre- it's the girlfriend effect.
liked by yn_hadjar, yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly
username10 : OH MY GHDFNDKJ
isackhadjar : she held me down and threatened me to put on what she picked out.
↳ yn_hadjar : and clearly i did you a favor bc there is a comment section full of women waiting for you
isackhadjar : fair
oscarpiastri : yn i did not get the memo that you were here today. pls don't hurt me
↳ yn_hadjar : i forgive you
yukitsunoda0511 : she literally dressed me this morning so yes it is because of yn. everyone say thank you, yn!!
liked by yn_hadjar, pierregasly and f1gossipgirls
pierregasly : it is common courtesy to look good for someone as beautiful as yn
liked by yn_hadjar and yukitsunoda0511
↳ isackhadjar : barf. she is just my sister. not god.
↳ yukitsunoda0511 : ive seen god and god is a woman.
liked by yn_hadjar and pierregasly
username8 : YUKIIIIBD :fj
—
yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, olliebearman, pierregasly & 3,030,053 others.
yn_hadjar : so cutesy
—
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isackhadjar : ollie and i carried this post
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ isackhadjar : also why are you letting random men hold our dog??
↳ pierregasly : you talk about me like im some common whore
liked by yn_hadjar
alexandrasaintmleux : you are ethereal. i am in love
liked by yn_hadjar
olliebearman : you are right. the gucci wrap was necessary for the outfit
↳ olliebearman : you ATE
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : add to the folder of reasons why ollie is my fave
yukitsunoda0511 : i do not remember anything from karaoke and i am glad i do not
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : i have videos if you need reminded
↳ maxverstappen1 : give them to me.
↳ lando : need
↳ olliebearman : pls share with the class
—
I was curled up on the couch with Yuki, his arm around my waist and his stupidly warm hands resting under the hem of my t-shirt, tracing lazy circles against my skin like he had no plans of moving for the next decade. We were watching the most unhinged documentary, but I’d let him pick because I liked hearing his dramatic commentary. It was peaceful. Dreamy. Domestic. Then the front door slammed open like we were in a horror movie.
“I BROUGHT DONUTS!” I heard Isack yell from the hallway.
I blinked. Yuki didn’t even flinch. He just muttered, “You gave him a key?”
“No,” I hissed back, still fully horizontal. “He stole it after fashion week. I just… forgot to take it back.”
And then Isack appeared in the doorway. Bag of donuts. Sunglasses on his head. Immediately offended.
“WHAT the actual hell is going on here?” he asked, eyebrows halfway into orbit.
“Breakfast,” Yuki answered flatly, as if he belonged here. As if my little brother hadn’t just caught him spooning me. I didn’t even bother sitting up. What was the point? It was already spiraling.
Isack’s jaw dropped. “Are you—YUKI?! You?! My teammate?! What the fuck?!”
“You know,” I said, grabbing a donut from the bag like this was brunch and not a betrayal, “you could’ve knocked.”
“You could’ve warned me before I walked into my literal teammate dry humping my sister on the couch!”
“We’re literally just cuddling,” I deadpanned. “Calm down.”
Yuki, to his credit, gave the most Yuki shrug of all time, like: yeah, this is happening, keep up.
“I’m gonna throw up,” Isack muttered. “I’m gonna throw up on your designer rug. You’re both—this is illegal. Against the sibling code. Against F1 regulations. This is—”
And then, like God decided this couldn’t get worse fast enough— Pierre walked out of the bedroom. Shirtless. Hair tousled. Stretching like he’d just woken from a coma.
“Oh no,” I muttered.
“Oh WHAT THE FUCK,” Isack shrieked.
Pierre froze mid-stretch, looked around, blinked. “Didn’t know we had guests.”
“WE DON’T,” Isack yelled. “WHO EVEN ARE YOU TO THIS STORY?!”
Pierre grinned. “Depends. What genre is it?”
I slapped a hand over my face. Yuki, still annoyingly calm, yawned. “Rom-com. Heavy on the com.”
Isack stared at the three of us, twitching like a sim about to catch fire. “This is a nightmare. I’m calling our mother. I’m calling the FIA. I’m calling God.”
“You want a donut before you have your little meltdown?” I asked sweetly, tossing one at his chest.
He didn’t catch it. It hit the floor.
“Unbelievable,” he said, turning and storming out. “I’m changing my last name. Don’t talk to me at the paddock. I’m disowning everyone in this room!”
“Love you!” Pierre called after him, totally unbothered.
“I hate it here!” Isack screamed from the hallway.
The door slammed shut again. Yuki looked down at me. “He took that well.”
I bit into my donut. “Honestly? Better than I expected.”
Pierre flopped back onto the couch, grabbing Yuki’s abandoned half-donut. “So… are we doing the pigeon documentary or something sexier?”
I groaned. “You two are never allowed to be shirtless in front of my brother again.”
Yuki just smiled. “Noted. We’ll wear robes next time.”
—
yn_hadjar

liked by pierregasly, olliebearman, yukitsunoda0511 & 5,090,777 others.
yn_hadjar : comments will be turned back on once isack stops having a meltdown (so never). however, i have two sexy men in my bed every night so idc.
tagged : pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511
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—
pierregasly

liked by yn_hadjar, charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511 and 4,008,013 others.
pierregasly : my brother in law isack is not very happy with me rn so why not add fuel to the flame. love you bothhhhhh
tagged : yn_hadjar and yukitsunoda0511
—
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yn_hadjar : so cuteeee. love my boys
liked by yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly
charles_leclerc : how did he not know?
↳ yn_hadjar : he was born naturally oblivious
liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511
username0 : isack's recent google search is how to make yn - no yuki no pierre
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : i fucking love you lmao
isackhadjar : you are NOT my brother in law
↳ isackhadjar : i refuse
↳ isackhadjar : my eyes are still burning.
↳ isackhadjar : had to walk in on yuki practically having sex with my sister
↳ yn_hadjar : we were literally watching a pigeon documentary
↳ username20 : always thought isacks 2025 crashout would be racing related not due to pierre and yuki dating his sister.
—
yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, yn_hadjar, olliebearman & 2,097,008 others.
yukitsunoda0511 : love you both even if it means putting up with her brother and the fact that pierre is a blanket hog.
—
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pierregasly : love you more- even when you talk in your sleep
liked by yukitsunoda0511 and yn_hadjar
visacashapprb : we both ask that you both behave in a manner that is professional as you are teammates.
↳ yukitsunoda0511 : @/isackhadjar ^^^^
liked by yn_hadjar
lando : i need a diagram of who sleeps where
liked by yn_hadjar
↳ yn_hadjar : i sleep in the middle and those two switch sides like every 3-5 business days
liked by lando, pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511
yn_hadjar : my cutie pies
liked by yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly
isackhadjar : i am the victim in this story and no one is talking about it
↳ pierregasly : isack erasure :(
↳ yn_hadjar : the only thing you are victim to is a horrendous fashion sense
↳ yukitsunoda0511 : yes you def are the victim after walking into an apartment that is not yours unannounced.
—
#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 x reader#f1 poly fic#f1 polyamory#f1 poly#pierre gasly x reader#pg10 x reader#pg10#pg10 imagine#pierre gasly x reader x yuki tsunoda#yuki tsunoda#x reader#smau#x !hadjar reader#isack hadjar x !sister reader#yuki tsunoda x reader#yuki tsunoda x you#yuki tsunoda x y/n#yt22#yt22 x reader#yt22 imagine#yt22 fic#yt22 fluff
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Hiiiii I hope you’re doing well‼️ I was wondering if you’d be open to doing a bakugo x story with like a bratty or high maintenance reader? I just think it would be cute for him to like adore his partner even though she or they are high maintenance and can cop an attitude! I don’t know if any of this is making sense, but I hope you have a good day💞🫶
𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑡. 𝐼’𝑚 𝑜𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑.
heyo! bakugo being lowkey obsessed with his high maintenance partner?? yeah. had to do it hope u enjoy it as much as i did writing it <3 thank u for the sweet message btw, hope ur day’s been kind to u too!!
1. He always answers the phone. Always.
Doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night, if he’s training, cooking, or in the middle of a meeting. If you call, he picks up.
"Now what?"
"Why does something have to be wrong? Can’t I just miss you without being questioned, Katsuki?"
"... "
"Also, were you really gonna go to bed without saying goodnight?"
"Tch. No. I was waiting for you to annoy me first."
And the worst (or best) part: the call sometimes turns into hours of lost sleep.
2. He knows exactly what you want. Even before you ask.
When a limited-edition pair of those ridiculous shoes comes out—only available in Paris and sold out in thirty minutes—you don’t say a word. He shows up at home with the box.
"How did you get them?"
"Don’t need to tell you everything, woman."
"Katsuki!"
"You gonna keep whining or try them on already?"
Spoiler: you cry and try them on.
3. When you’re sick… he doesn’t take risks.
Because you with a fever is a full-blown drama show.
"I think I’m dying. Don’t ignore me, Katsuki."
"You’ve got a 99.3, princess."
"That’s still above normal!"
"No virus could survive this much drama."
"Are you calling me dramatic?!"
"Yeah. And I’m still here with your soup, meds, and six velvet blankets. Happy now?"
Spoiler 2: yes, you are happy.
4. "I’m tired. Carry me."
One look. A pout. Arms extended. Bakugo sighs. You smile.
"You’ve got no shame."
"I’ve got no energy. That’s different."
"...Get on. But don’t ask for a massage later."
Spoiler 3: you do ask for a massage.
5. "I want ramen. But not just any ramen… yours."
You could’ve ordered delivery. You could’ve gone to your favorite place. But no, you want his ramen, because “it tastes better when you make it with love.”
"I’m not making it with love. I’m making it ’cause you won’t shut up."
6. "Don’t kiss me, I’ve got gloss on. You’ll smudge me."
You got all dolled up, lips glossy with vanilla shine. He leans in. You stop him with a hand on his chest.
"No. Don’t even think about it. You’ll ruin everything."
"Right. I live to look ridiculous with greasy lips."
"Exactly. You’ll look ridiculous."
He growls… and kisses your cheek. Then your forehead. Then lowers his voice:
"You better kiss me triple when that gloss’s gone."
7. "Take pictures of me. Good ones. Not like last time."
You hand him your phone, fix your hair, pose like you’re on the cover of a magazine.
"Not head-on. Use an angle. And don’t cut my feet off, Katsuki."
"I’m not a damn pro photographer."
"If you suck, I’ll hire a replacement."
8. "Why don’t you say sweet things to me? Call me baby or something."
It’s a constant thing. You love teasing him.
"Baby. Babe. Sexy. Something."
"How about ‘my spoiled dumbass’?"
"That’s not cute."
"It’s accurate."
"Katsuki."
"Love you, you whiny little princess. That better?"
Yes. That’s better.
You ask him this one night. You’re lying across his chest, skin still warm from a bath and your feet tucked under the blankets like always.
"Don’t you ever get tired of spoiling me?"
He doesn’t answer right away. He has you in his arms, your lips still shiny—gloss he already stole mid-makeout—and your body draped over his like you belong there.
The truth is: he knows. And so do you.
Because every time you call at 3 a.m., it’s not out of boredom… it’s because you miss his voice.
Because while he’s losing his mind trying to get you that crap that’s not even available in the country… you’re out buying matching pieces, so you always walk out looking ridiculously couple-coded.
Because when he’s sick, you turn into a dramatic, controlling nurse… but only because it scares you when he’s not 100%.
Because when you ask him to carry you, it’s not because you’re lazy. It’s because you want to wrap your arms around him and feel his heartbeat.
Because you ask for his food even when you could order the same thing, just because “his tastes better when it’s made with love.”
Because you say, “Don’t kiss me, I’ve got gloss on…” but you love it when he ignores you, grabs your face, and kisses you anyway.
Because you ask him to take pictures of you, but you always end up posting the one where he’s in the frame with you.
Because you ask him to call you sweet names, and even though he grumbles… you love how it sounds coming from him.
Because yeah, you’re dramatic. Demanding. Gloss-obsessed. A total headache with long lashes.
But you’re also the one who loves him back with the same fire. And he knows it.
"I like you just like this," he mutters, voice low and rough against your neck. "All of it."
Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.
#ghostlyreqs4bakugo#ghostlysugar4bakugo#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo x y/n#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha x y/n#bnha x you#bakugou x reader#katsuki x you#bakugo fluff#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bnha x y/n#bnha x fem!reader#bnha bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x female reader#mha x you#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you
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hi! i love how in character you write for l&ds, it's so nice whenever i see a new post from u☺️ i'd like to request how the l&ds men would react if they came too early and u reassuring them since that's the hottest thing ever; to imagine how they need u sm that they can't even hold back
thank u and have a wonderful day cutie <3
When They Finish First- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: 18+, suggestive content, MDNI, filthy filthy smut, smut with no plot a/n: hihi anonnie! it makes me so happy to hear you guys like seeing me post ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ in my opinion i think they’re all the type to prefer finishing after you when he knows you’re completely satisfied so i just added the build up story to it and i hope that’s okay ! i hope you enjoy and i hope you have a wonder day too luv (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆

Xavier:
The plush of your ass was pressed tightly against his hardened shaft. His cock rested between your cheeks before looking for your hole again. A cuddle session that you two normally have developed into something so filthy. “so….so good….” He pants in your ear as his hands are planted on your hips to position his cock back into your core.
As you clench down on him, his pace begins to move faster, stronger, and needier. The twitch of his cock felt so good that it had your messy hole sob uncontrollably around him. Xavier who usually has remarkable endurance, still has his weaknesses—one of which is you. It wasn’t long for him to spill his orgasm inside of you. He gradually slows his pace before coming to a stop. “’m sorry…” He murmurs softly, his head resting against the nape of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. "I didn't mean to be so greedy...." He says softly, pressing his head deeper into the nape of your neck to hide the flush of embarrassment on his face.
You smile softly, reaching out to find his hand resting on your waist before giving it a gentle squeeze. "t's okay Xavier, as long as you feel good." You say, turning your head slightly to give him a reassuring gentle kiss on the cheek.
His tip sensitive and red when he pulls out, covered in a beautiful shine. You feel the weight of the bed shift as he climbs on top of you, settling himself in between your legs. “I want you to feel good too.” He says with a gaze of a mix of determination and arousal.
Zayne:
You spread your legs over him and straddled his lap. You felt his hardened cock against your belly and he looked at you in adoration before attacking your hardened nipples with his mouth. You throw your head back, moaning as you wrap your arm around him for support. The way he’d move his lips against them and soak them with his spit and the way he’d bite them gently, leaving small marks on you. The way he suctions his lips around your nipples and wraps his tongue around them like a man starved. He moans into your breasts while massaging the other one.
He grabs you by the waist and flipped you over so you were the one on your back. With no hesitation, he opens your legs wide and open to expose your soaking wet entrance.
He grabs his cock and begins tracing it up and down your slit to gather some of your natural lubricant. You close your eyes and let your body absorb every inch of him that was slowly moving in and out of you.
He buries himself into you, balls deep as your legs wrap around his waist. His girth expands in every part of your walls voluntarily. He moves to nestle more comfortably on top of you, resting his face in the crook of your neck before speeding up his pace. You were so hot and squishy inside, digging his hips deeper and slightly wiggling them to ravish the reactions of your body. He inserts himself deeper and deeper into you and pulls out just a little every time. He groaned into your ear as he felt you clench around him and he didn’t know if it was the excitement or how deep he was in you to feel this good. You moan and scratch his back and he completely loses himself as his thrusts become more slower and fills you up with his load. He avoids meeting your gaze, hiding in the crook of your neck as his ears flush red with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me.” He mumbles in your ear. He relaxes once he feels your hand gently thread through his hair in reassurance. "You're okay Zayne, 'm promise. Plus you losing control like that was really hot."
Once he sits back up, you notice the faint blush on his ears and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh. He pulls out of you, his length glistening from your soaked cunt before he settles himself between your legs to go down on you.
"Please, allow me to make it right."
Rafayel:
His eyes clenched shut as hot pants escaped from his pretty mouth. His hands rest on your hips to keep you steady as you slowly sink further down on his cock. His mind fogging up with you as he feels your warm and dripping cunt wrapped around his cock so perfectly. The way you're on top of him, your pretty little cunt squeezing his cock and rolling your hips that feels like heaven. The way you're just getting off from just him alone.
A broken gasp leaves his lungs, taking everything you give him as you begin to bounce yourself up and down on his lap. The perfect pretty picture he has in front of him and the sounds of your pretty pussy surrounding his cock in your juices as you ride him only fuels his pleasure.
“f-fuck-hah- s’good,” He babbles, eyes rolling back as you tremble on top of him. Your walls clenching around his cock as you grind down, the thick head of his cock rubbing your sweet spot so perfectly and making you shiver in response. You whine when you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he cums in hot spurts. A faint pink blush spreads across his face as he watches you slow your pace on him before completely halting your movements. “Raf…” You gently cup his cheeks but he refuses to meet your gaze. “Raf….did you like it that much….?”
He huffs, pouting as he wraps his arms around you. “Obviously,”
He presses closer into your touch, gradually meeting your gaze. "It's okay Raf," you say softly. "Losing yourself like that for me? It was actually really attractive." You offer a warm, reassuring smile before leaning in to gently kiss his lips.
With no warning whatsoever, he flips you over so you’re now on your back and he was on top of you. “Now let me see you lose yourself for me.” He says, pressing wet kisses lower and lower on your body.

Sylus:
He snatches your wrists into his palm and drags them above your head as he thrusts himself back into your soaking cunt. He pants hard, enjoying your soft and hot folds tightening around him. The thought of filling you up and coating your insides with his white juices, fueling his need for you more. The way he stretched your cunt was overwhelming, making you feel so full as he pressed in further deeper. You mewled as the large veins on his length rubbed against your walls so perfectly.
His hips rutted into you faster as praises spilled from his lips. “You look so good, baby” He praises again, each hard thrust leaving you breathless. "Feel so good too-hah...."
It didn’t take long and with a few more rough thrusts, he painted your walls white with his cum. You whimper as you feel the warm juices fill you up. "Sy...did you....?"
He loosens his grip on your wrists and pulls himself out of you with a groan, your body whining from the loss of his connection. “I’m sorry sweetie, I couldn’t resist.” He leans back and looks over your body, a smirk curving on his lips as he takes in the sight of you. “You just felt too good.” You playfully roll your eyes as he gently rubs your thigh. "It's okay Sy, it was attractive to see you not hold back."
A mischievous smirk appears on his face as his other hand was unable to resist rubbing teasing circles around your puffy clit. Amused from your reaction, he pumps his cock that was already hardening again.
“We’re not done here yet princess. And don't hold back on me.”
#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier x y/n#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne x y/n#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x y/n#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#xavier lads#zayne lads#rafayel lads#sylus lads#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace scenarios#lads x reader#lads x you#lads x y/n#lads smut#love and deep space
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YOU'D THINK THEY'D KNOW BY NOW (OP81)
oscar piastri x fewtrell!golfer!reader (she/her) summary. you and oscar have both started your professional careers, so it's the perfect time to share your relationship with the world. pr makes you wait a bit and chaos ensues. (mainly smau, a little bit of writing) (2.7k) warnings. for sexual implications (but no actual sex) and nosy fans. andi's note!! so this is kind of a condensed version of a series i might write (though i'm not sure). anyway i hope you all enjoy bc i had a lot of fun making this!
nav+masterlist

september, 2022 ->
Lando Norris why does my new teammate follow u
and why do u follow him
whats goin on there 🤨🤨
You lan please tell me ur joking
Lando Norris wait.
HES UR BF?? Ur Bf OScAR?
You …yes???
Lando Norris HES THE GUY WITH THE BITING THING??? 😨😨
You i am blocking you
never bring that up again oh my god
Lando Norris …is it the teeth? he looks like a bunny 🐰
YOU HAVE BLOCKED LANDO NORRIS.
january 2023 ->
yourusername



[caption 1: some fun b4 i go pro...] [caption 2: 📍orlando, florida] [caption 3: @.maxfewtrell @.landonorris]
story replies:
oscarpiastri i think i might have to stick with mini golf 😅
yourusername but i like teaching you golf ☹️☹️ oscarpiastri you just like holding my hands yourusername well duh
maxfewtrell i don't think we can play golf with oscar again
yourusername DONT BE MEAN yourusername he's my bf who cares if he can't swing maxfewtrell i do! i've got a golf ball-sized bruise on my thigh if you want proof yourusername stop crying, there's an ice machine in the hallway 😒
landonorris i am banning you from races idk if i can deal with you and oscar together
yourusername well ur not the fia...so i will now be attending every race i possibly can. just to terrorize you landonorris at least stay in his garage pls. yourusername ...did i tell you what pr said landonorris NO PLS I CANT yourusername it's just till belgium! landonorris brb planning my retirement



yourusername first pro tournament 😁 very happy to have this opportunity (and to be in florida again!)!! thank you @.hiltongrandvacations!
liked by oscarpiastri and others
gatorswgolf We miss you!
yourusername miss you all more!!! 🐊
logansargeant florida golf is always good 😌 (liked by yourusername)
user LOGAN??? user he's shooting his shot ↳ user let him live 😭😭
user that's my golfer 🥹
user like wydm she's pro now??? 😭☹️
user i think we need another quadrant video of her destroying lando and max in golf 😁 (liked by yourusername)
maxfewtrell swoosh!
landonorris swoosh!! yourusername alright why are you making fun of me... ↳ maxfewtrell we're reminding you of your humble origins ↳ yourusername 😒😒
landonorris your cat looks like he's crying...
yourusername leave him alone 💀 user her cat...?
february 2023 ->
"It's only a four hour difference." Oscar murmurs and you groan into his neck. "Don't remind me." Oscar's hands, warm and comforting, hold you against him. Your suitcase packed for Thailand and Oscar's packed for Bahrain sit near the couch you're lying on.
"We've had worse." He continues, his hand on your lower back squeezing your side in reassurance. You shift your head so you can see Oscar, his recently cut hair and soft smile. "I don't wanna share you, can you just be my trophy boyfriend?" His nose scrunches up when he tilts his head back as he laughs.
"I'd have to work on my golf knowledge before I can do that."
"I don't mind you being a little clueless. ‘Cause then I get to play teacher." You position your knees on either side of Oscar's hips, grinning down at him as you speak. A bright red flush builds on his neck and face. "I think everyone knows that's just your excuse to touch me on a public golf course."
"Obviously," You roll your eyes, face a little warm. Oscar grins, teeth and all. "It's not the worst way to learn when it's from you."
"Yeah?" Oscar sits up more so he's level with you. "Makes it more fun. Since...it's golf."
"Oscar!"
yourusername close friends story
[caption: i want my bf back. but thailand here i come 😭✈️🇹🇭]
story replies:
oscarpiastri we'll see eachother soon ❤️
yourusername ITS NOT SOON ENOUGH oscarpiastri miss you too! yourusername i love u and i miss you already 😭 (oscarpiastri reacted with ❤️)
maxfewtrell it's been like one day.
yourusername ur one strike from being kicked off my close friends maxfewtrell i actually might enjoy that. no more photos of you and oscar kissing yourusername ...ykw just for that i'm keeping you on it forever
logansargeant i'll treat him right while you're gone👍
yourusername YOU BETTER
march 2023 ->
sentosa golf club, singapore



yourusername a very good weekend! 🏆 thanks for having me, @.hsbcwomensgolf! see you soon @.f1 😁🇸🇦
liked by oscarpiastri and others
maxfewtrell alright we're never playing golf again
yourusername this is you admitting you're bad btw. 😁😁 maxfewtrell i was gonna congratulate you but i think i've changed my mind
landonorris share some champagne please? 😌🥂
yourusername it's gonna be flat by the time i see you again landonorris it's okay you can just buy another bottle yourusername nuh uh. you've got the money to buy it yourself! user my otp...i need them together now ↳ user i don't think max would ever let that happen ↳ user LET ME DREAM
user oscar in the likes? i see you op 👀
user he's BEEN here. he is never not here tbh...
user OMG YOU'RE GONNA BE AT JEDDAH???? (liked by yourusername)
Mclaren • MclarenF1
Lando & Oscar take a quiz on golf terms with @.yourusername! [Video attached]
Lando Norris Get destroyed @.OscarPiastri ↳ Oscar Piastri You've got the upperhand. I wasn't going to win anyway 🤷♂️
Y/N Fewtrell @.OscarPiastri you'll win next time 😉 ↳ Lando Norris I'm gonna put in all my effort so you don't rig it



yourusername jeddah things 🌺 (tagged landonorris)
liked by oscarpiastri and others
landonorris is there any trophy for golf quiz winner?
yourusername nope :) landonorris damn. all that and i get nothing yourusername cry about it
user soft launch and lando on the same post...hmmmm
user 🤔🤔 user building up an essay on why they're dating user you guys are insane 🙄 they're not even that close ↳ user she's literally only been seen with lando this week. who else would she be dating?? ↳ user i think you're forgetting the fact she was also seen with oscar... ↳ user they just met. don't be ridiculous
oscarpiastri it was nice seeing you!
yourusername you too!! 😊😊😊😊 maxfewtrell are you going insane user MAX??? user crazy behavior from the fewtrell siblings... ↳ user LITERALLY!! the emojis?? max's deleted comment?? what's going on 👀👀
april 2023 ->
yourusername close friends story
[caption: BIRTHDAY BOYYYYYY 🎂🎉!!!!! my amazing bf has turned 22 everyone go tell him happy birthday 😠]
story replies:
oscarpiastri i love you so much ❤️
yourusername if you actually loved me you'd come back to the flat early oscarpiastri On My Way! (you reacted with 😭)
maxfewtrell tell oscar i said happy birthday 🎊
yourusername 👍 maxfewtrell why did it take you 2 days to respond to this
may 2023 ->
yourusername public story
[caption: wasn't my best performance, but either way, thank you @.jmeaglelachamp for having me! time to go coast to coast ✈️ (📍 los angeles, california)]
story replies:
oscarpiastri can't wait to see you ❤️ you look great in orange 😍
yourusername i miss you!!!! yourusername the orange was for you i hate that color so much (oscarpiastri has reacted with ❤️)
oscarpiastri btw you did so well, don't beat yourself down
yourusername i love you so much yourusername now go do your pr lando is messaging me (oscarpiastri has reacted with 👎)
user the orange??? 👀👀👀
user • user
max f's sister wearing papaya at her tournament in la...interesting
user put some respect on her name 😭 she's literally a professional golfer not just max's sister ↳ user lmao literally. also the constant dating rumors in HER insta comments is crazy. keep that to yourself, you don't need to go telling her
user the 'time to go coast to coast' on her story...is she gonna be in miami?? ↳ user there's a tournament in new jersey next week, which is also on the east coast. she might just be flying there. ↳ user idk the papaya outfit seems like a hint. i have a feeling she's gonna be in miami ↳ user the delusions are crazy
Formula 1 • F1
@.yourusername is in the paddock, with Mclaren of course 😉 #F1 @.MclarenF1
user F1 ADMIN WHAT DO YOU KNOW
user where's the person who called me delusional. are you seeing this
user LANDO IN THE BACK you're kidding me like this can't be real
messages with logan sargeant 🦅
logan sargeant 🦅 oscar's snap says you're in a mcdonald's parking lot
can you get me an oreo mcflurry (00:19)
logan sargeant 🦅 how are you still in the parking lot WHAT ARE YOU DOING
logan sargeant 🦅 actually don't answer that (1:47)
you srry my phone died we got you the mcflurry
logan (3:28)
logan sargeant it's been 3 hours...
p sure oscar has my extra keycard btw
you alright he's dropping it off
sleep well 🤗
june 2023 ->
springfield, new jersey


yourusername OHHHH YEAHHH!!! a great weekend in new jersey, thank you @.kpmgwomenspga for having me!!!!!! 🏆🏆🏆🏆
liked by oscarpiastri and others
yourusername also smth coming soon...stay tuned 🤭
user can you just tell me now, my dms are open i swear i won't tell anyone user please. im not patient. please 😭🙏
oscarpiastri congrats! 👏🏆
yourusername thanks!!!! 😆
user alright...where is lando
user you cannot be serious. she's celebrating a win and you're speculating on her relationship?? ↳ user it's not that serious 🙄
maxfewtrell legend in the making 👑
yourusername why are you being nice... yourusername THANK YOU!!
user WHY HASNT LANDO COMMENTED
user lando hasn't even liked...WHERE ARE YOU LANDO
comments have been limited
sportsmag @.yourusername, a rookie in the LPGA discusses golf, relationships, f1, and her new found fame in our June edition. the full interview can found at our website sportsmag.com!
liked by yourusername and others
comments have been turned off
Y/N FEWTRELL TALKS GOLF, F1, FAME, AND ROMANCE WITH SPORTSMAG
June 30th, 2023 • Lola Lyon
In May earlier this year, I had the pleasure to meet with Y/n Fewtrell at a golf course (a personal favorite of hers) in Florida. She acts the same way she does on social media; energetic, snarky, yet kind. However, I noticed a shyer part of her personality when discussing the people and things she holds dear.
I seemed to be the first person to ask her about her relationship status — as an interviewer. The young golfer's comments have been full of relationship spec....
SUBSCRIBE TO READ THE REST OF THE ARTICLE
user • user
alright i paid for the y/n fewtrell article, will be posting some very important quotes below 🧵
user "Before she told me about her boyfriend, she told me about her feelings on the speculation. 'I never expected my relationship to be a big deal to so many people...it's a lot sometimes to see people assuming I'm dating a close friend or just a stranger. It can be funny though to see how many jumps people have to make to associate me with someone else. So far, not many people have been right."
user "I then asked her what her favorite rumor was. Her reply is something I'm sure not a lot of people could guess. "My favorite?...I mean— the ones including Lando are always so weird. He's my brother's best friend, and he's a close friend of mine. But I'm not dating him. I don't know if I could live an entire week with him as my boyfriend [laughter]. He's a great guy but, yeah. Not dating him."
user "Golf, according to her, has always been a staple in her life. 'I first played golf in Singapore, and I didn't love it at first. But, Max had played before so he was better than me, naturally. [laughter] It made me so mad. So I just kept playing, I started practicing and watching tournaments on TV. The first time I ever beat Max, I thought: What am I supposed to do now? I kept playing after that, obviously [laughter] and I still beat him, so."
user on her mindset going into a tournament: "I mean, I try to stay positive. I've— I know how sports, especially those in the public eye, can damage your self-esteem. I dealt with it myself a couple times when I was still at the collegiate level. Hearing people be so rude about you and your skills, it hurts. So, sophomore year I think it was, I started logging out of all my social media accounts a couple days before a game or a tournament. The only criticism I needed was my coach's, and now I feel like I'm at a point in my career where I can judge my own skills."
user "For my final question, I asked her about her opinion of the current F1 season. '[laughter] Well, I'm supporting Mclaren obviously. I know Red Bull's been doing really well. I've heard— seen people's complaints on Twitter, it's something. But honestly, good job on Red Bull for making a rocket ship [laughter]."
view 702 replies
july 2023 ->
Mclaren • MclarenF1
A message from Lando and Oscar before summer break!
[Lando and Oscar are standing in front of a barren wall, both wearing their team polo's. "Hi everyone, Oscar —and Lando— here." Oscar glances at Lando who starts speaking. "It's been a decent start to the season, but we're gonna go rest and come back better than ever." He gives a tired smile to the camera, and then Oscar starts speaking. "I, personally, will be vacationing with my girlfriend. So, I'm excited. What about you, Lando?" Lando's smile has changed, he's clearly trying to stop himself from laughing. Oscar raises a brow. "Um— I've got a nice vacation planned, gonna visit family too." Oscar nods along. "We'll see you all in Zandvoort." Lando waves to the camera, and a second before the video ends he can be seen falling forward, laughing hysterically. Oscar has his head tipped back, laughing as well.]
user mclaren admin i think you uploaded the wrong cut...
Mclaren Nothing wrong here 😉 ↳ user OMG ↳ user they posted this...on purpose...hmm... ↳ user i swear this means oscar's gonna hard launch his gf i know itttt
august 2023 ->






yourusername and oscarpiastri how did no one assume this. where were you all at. Hi, everyone 👋💗 (edited 3hrs ago.)
logansargeant FINALLY i no longer have to cover for you guys omg
logansargeant congrats tho! ↳ oscarpiastri thanks mate! ↳ yourusername you were our strongest soldier. we will get you a reward dw ↳ oscarpiastri we did not agree abt that ↳ yourusername do i have to remind you about the mcdonalds situation from miami ↳ oscarpiastri logansargeant i'll send some money your way as a reward user alright. whats going on here guys ↳ user i'm getting the feeling they somehow traumatized logan in a mcdonalds
user I'VE BEEN HERE (liked by yourusername)
user i knew it. oscar had been in her likes for so long user i think i manifested this tbh
maxfewtrell i feel that i'm owed a thank you
yourusername thank you for driving in the formula renault eurocup in 2018, max. i would've found him anyway but i'll let you take credit ↳ maxfewtrell i knew something was wrong from your formality. but i'll take it. ↳ user it's giving "i'd find you in every universe" ↳ user user WHAT IF I DIED oscarpiastri thank you both for being obnoxiously loud talkers ↳ yourusername OSCAR 😢
user THE CAPTION CHANGE 😭😭
landonorris oh thank god. yourusername please stay in oscar's garage, and oscar's garage only from here on out.
yourusername that won't stop me. i will make you increasingly annoyed every single race i attend until you explode oscarpiastri should i remind you that this is a public comment section and you're also talking to my teammate? ↳ landonorris yourusername LISTEN TO YOUR BF ↳ yourusername check your text messages ↳ landonorris why are you like this ↳ oscarpiastri landonorris i think you deserved that mate user oscary/n casually traumatizing every member of the grid. love this
mclaren 🧡🧡 our favorite couple
yourusername admin you are my favorite mclaren employee ↳ oscarpiastri what about me? ↳ yourusername favorite person on earth. obviously. (liked by oscarpiastri)
user • user
so it seems that i am actually delusional. anyway #oscary/n

THIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY
#russellbee; writing#russellbee; op81#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri x fewtrell!reader#f1 fic#f1 x reader#oscar piastri social media au#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri imagine#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri fanfic
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Hiiiiiiiiiii hi hi!! I gotta say I really really like REALLY love your stories. I come here every night and re-read shit for HOURS and HOURSS like isw im not even joking, anywaysssss, I would like (obviously if ur down for it) if you could write one where Thanos and Y/N are roommates. I don't really have a whole concept idea for this but I just would like one where they're living tg and ofc it's NSFW 😝 but yeahhhh. The rest can be wtv u want, I hope I make sense lol, idk how to do ts🥲
Thanks tho!!
It Was Never Just Roommates
Choi Su-bong x F!Reader
Masterlist
summary: you thought you were moving in with a girl. instead, you got thanos: cocky, chaotic, and nothing like you expected. he was supposed to be just a roommate. but late nights, shared spaces, and one unexpected kiss change everything.
warnings: alcohol, smoking, implied drugging attempt, sexual content, swearing
comments: minors do not interact
a/n: hiiii! thank you so so so much, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear this and how glad i am that you’re enjoying my stories, i’m so grateful for this request because i love so much how it turned out and i hope you like it as much, have so much fun reading<3

You had finally been accepted into the university of your dreams. With that acceptance came a big change: moving out. For the first time, you’d be living on your own. Well, not entirely alone, but still, it was your own place. A small apartment just a short walk from campus, shared with a roommate you hadn’t met yet. The ad said female roommate preferred, so you assumed your new roommate would be a girl. You were curious, a little nervous maybe, but mostly excited to meet her.
You arrived early in the day, arms full of boxes and bags, your heart beating with that mix of anticipation and unfamiliar freedom. The apartment was modest but cozy, with pale walls and sun streaming in through the living room window. You didn’t claim a room just yet. It felt more respectful to wait, to make that decision together. For now, you dropped your stuff in the corner and wandered through the space, unpacking here and there, getting used to the feeling of calling it home.
Eventually, you ended up in the bathroom, rinsing your face, freshening up after the move. That’s when you heard it. A door. The front door. It creaked open, followed by the soft thud of footsteps. Your heart skipped. She’s here. You turned off the tap, quickly dried your hands, and stepped into the hallway with a smile forming only to stop short. Standing there, looking just as surprised as you, was not a she at all. It was a he. Tall, suitcase still in hand, hair tousled like he’d just gotten out of a cab. He blinked at you. You blinked back.
He was tall, muscular but not overly so. His build was the kind that said he worked out but didn’t live for it. His hair was purple, surprisingly natural-looking despite the color and slightly messy, like he’d just run his fingers through it moments before stepping inside. His eyes were a deep brown, nearly black, and the way they looked at you made you feel like he already knew something you didn’t. They lingered on you as you stood frozen in the hallway, towel still clutched in your hand from freshening up. He didn’t say anything at first, just observed you with a relaxed air before finally setting his suitcase down with a loud thud that broke the silence. “Well shit, they really did put a girl in here with me huh?” His voice was deep and slightly amused, like this wasn’t at all what he expected, but it wasn’t exactly a bad surprise either.
You blinked and cleared your throat. “Are you my new roommate?” The words came out softer than you meant them to. He took a step closer, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. “Fuck, yeah I am. Although I’ll admit, I was expecting someone… else.” His gaze flicked down and up again, brief but intentional. “No offense, but you don’t look like the kinda girl who’d live with a guy.” You crossed your arms, caught somewhere between defensive and confused. “Because I was expecting a girl… the ad said it would be a girl.” He chuckled, fingers running through his hair again, messing it up even more. “Yeah, well, life’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” He brushed past you like the conversation was already over, casually dropping his suitcase in the hallway as he walked toward the living room. “I’m Thanos, by the way. You got a name?”
You ignored his question entirely, still hung up on what he’d just said. “Thanos? That’s your name? Isn’t that from Marvel or something?” He laughed as he leaned against the kitchen counter, clearly not taking any of this too seriously. “Yeah, yeah it is. Just a nickname tho.” He looked you up and down again, slower this time, and his smirk widened. “So, you got a name or are we just gonna stand here staring at each other all day?” You hesitated, unsure if you even wanted to play into whatever this was. “What’s your real name?” He pushed off the counter and walked toward you, slowly and deliberately. “Does it matter? I mean, I’ll answer if you really want me to, but I kinda like the mystery of it all.” He stopped right in front of you, so close you could feel his breath on your skin. You stepped back before you even realized it, and he laughed softly, clearly entertained. “Damn, you’re shy.” His eyes flicked down your body, lingering for half a second before returning to your face. “You still haven’t told me your name.” You gave it, quietly. His grin stretched wider as he repeated it under his breath. “Well, fuck me… I like it.”
You changed the subject quickly. “Well Thanos… what room do you want?” He glanced over at the two bedroom doors. “Hm? You serious?” When you nodded, he looked genuinely curious. “You gonna let me choose first?” You shrugged. “It’s nice to ask.” He huffed a laugh, running a hand through his hair again. “Shit, a girl with manners. I’m not used to this…” He moved toward the rooms and opened the first door. It was a decent size, basic, nothing impressive. He checked the second. Bigger. More light. Larger bed. He turned to you with a playful look. “I’ll take this one.” “Okay…” you said, already starting to carry your things into the smaller bedroom. As you unpacked, you noticed him leaning against the doorway, watching you with a glint in his eyes. “You know, I feel kinda bad taking the bigger room…” He paused, stepping inside. “Maybe we should share.”
“What?” you asked, blinking at him, clearly not getting the joke. He laughed, full and unfiltered this time. “Fuck, I’m just messing with you…” He backed up to the doorway again, leaning against the frame. “The bigger room’s all mine, princess. Though, if you get cold at night…” He let the words trail off, clearly enjoying the thought. He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he turned, walked into his room, and shut the door behind him. A moment later he flopped onto the bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a stupid grin on his face. This was going to be fun.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
You had been unpacking for hours, sorting through everything you’d brought for university. Textbooks were stacked on your desk, your closet was half-organized, and random little things still lay scattered across your bed. You walked into the living room to grab another box, but stopped when you saw him. Thanos stood near the mirror, adjusting his tie with a level of comfort and confidence that made you pause. He looked nothing like the messy, teasing guy you’d met earlier. He looked sharp, clean, and like he belonged somewhere much louder and more exciting than the apartment you were standing in. You blinked at him, confused for a second, and he caught your expression. His lips curved into a small smirk as he chuckled. “You alright there, roomie?” he asked as he turned to face you fully. “I’ve got a party to get to. You wanna come?”
“Uh, no thanks,” you said quickly, instinctively folding your arms. He raised a brow, clearly amused, and gave you a once-over that made your cheeks warm. “No? You sure?” he asked, stepping closer. His eyes lingered for a moment before snapping back to yours. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” You hesitated, shifting your weight. “What kind of a party?” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Just a little get-together with some friends. Drinks, music, dancing…” His smirk deepened. “Maybe a few games too.” He watched your face for a reaction, clearly enjoying how unsure you looked. “You really wanna stay home unpacking boxes?” You gave a small smile, shaking your head. “I’m just getting ready for university Monday. Parties aren’t really my thing.” He nodded with something like understanding, though it didn’t erase the hint of disappointment in his eyes. “Fair enough. You need to focus on school.” Then he stepped in even closer, his voice dropping slightly. “But if you change your mind… or if things get boring here alone…” He grabbed a scrap of paper from the counter and scribbled something down. “It’s at my friend’s place.” He handed it to you with a grin before heading out the door and disappearing into the night.
You stood in the quiet for a while after he left. You went back to unpacking, tried to stay focused, but your thoughts wouldn’t settle. He looked so confident, so at ease in that mirror. You didn’t want him to think you were just some quiet, nerdy girl who never left the apartment. After a few more minutes of pacing and overthinking, you gave in. You changed clothes, nothing flashy, just something a little cuter than before. You touched up your hair, grabbed the paper, and headed out. The house was loud before you even reached the door. Music pulsed through the walls, and laughter spilled out onto the porch. When you stepped inside, it was like walking into another world. People were everywhere, dancing, drinking, making out in corners. You barely had time to take it all in before your eyes found him. Thanos was in the corner, lips locked with a pretty blonde, hands gripping her waist. A group nearby was cheering them on like it was a show. He didn’t notice you at all.
“Hey beautiful,” came a voice from beside you. You turned and were met with a smile and a red plastic cup. The guy holding it was tall, muscled, wearing a fitted shirt that clung to his chest. His eyes dragged slowly over your body. “You new here?” You nodded, already regretting coming. “I’m uh-yeah.” He smiled wider. “I’m Ji-ho,” he said, stepping closer. “You here with someone?” His gaze flicked to Thanos and back to you. “Or you looking for someone to keep you company?” The question hung in the air. “I’m alone-” you started to say, but he cut you off smoothly. “Well, alone is boring.” His hand slid onto your hip as he leaned in. “How about we fix that? What’s your name, gorgeous?” You told him, unsure what else to do. “Nice to meet you,” he said, his hand gliding up to your waist. “I think I’ll keep you close tonight.” He took a sip from his drink and then held another cup out to you. “Want some? Vodka and cranberry. Strong stuff.”
You accepted, unsure why. Maybe to ease the tension. Maybe to distract yourself. You took a sip, the alcohol stinging at first, then settling into warmth. Ji-ho kept talking, laughing at his own jokes, brushing against you more than necessary. His lips grazed your neck once, then again. The buzz from the drink blurred your edges a little, loosening your nerves just enough to stop thinking. Then, suddenly, his posture shifted. His eyes darted past you. “Well look who decided to join the fun,” he muttered. You turned to see Thanos making his way toward you. The blonde girl was nowhere in sight. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes a surprise, maybe, or something closer to concern. “You actually came,” he said, stopping in front of you.
Ji-ho looked between the two of you, clearly surprised. “You two know each other?” he asked, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “Thanos, when did you meet this girl? She’s fucking gorgeous.” Thanos smirked faintly, but his eyes never left yours. “Yeah, we know each other,” he said, not offering any more explanation. “Mind if I borrow her for a sec?” He looked directly at Ji-ho but still didn’t acknowledge you. “Got something to talk about.” “Yeah?” you asked, brows drawing together. Thanos didn’t answer. He just reached for your arm and gently pulled you away. His grip was firm but careful as he led you through the crowd and into a hallway away from the music and noise. Only when the sound faded did he stop and turn to face you.
You were about to ask again when he spoke first, his tone more serious than you’d ever heard it. “Listen,” he said, voice low. “I’m serious. Don’t take drinks from him. Don’t get alone with him.” Your stomach dropped. “What? Why? I just took a sip from his drink…” Thanos stepped closer, and suddenly the teasing look was gone. “Because that drink is probably spiked. Ji-ho has a reputation, okay? He slips roofies into girls’ drinks.” Your eyes widened. “What?” “Exactly. That’s why I came after you. You already drank some…” His voice softened, his presence shifting from warning to protection. “How do you feel? Dizzy? Uncoordinated? Those are early signs.” His hand gently steadied your arm, searching your face with real concern. “I feel okay… just scared now. Can you take me back, please?” He nodded right away. “Yeah. I’ll take you back. Just lean on me.” He slipped an arm around your waist, guiding you carefully through the party. As you passed Ji-ho, Thanos made sure to lock eyes with him. Ji-ho was already laughing with another girl, grinning like nothing had happened.
The car ride back was quiet. Thanos didn’t push you to talk, and you were grateful. When you reached the apartment, he helped you out gently, lifting you effortlessly when your balance wavered. He carried you inside, straight to your room, and sat you on the edge of your bed. He removed your shoes without saying a word, then pulled the blanket over you. The room was still and dim. He sat beside you, brushing your hair back slowly, checking your expression like he wasn’t sure if you were really okay yet. His thumb brushed lightly across your cheek. “Sleep,” he whispered. And for the first time that night, you let yourself breathe.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The sun filtered through the curtains, warm and soft, casting pale gold across the floorboards. You blinked your eyes open slowly, the blanket still pulled high around your body. It took a moment to remember where you were, what had happened, and how you’d gotten back. The haze of last night clung to your thoughts, but the feeling of his arms supporting you down the hallway remained clear. You shifted upright, your head only slightly foggy, and glanced toward the doorway. The apartment was quiet, the distant sound of movement in the kitchen the only sign that someone else was awake.
You padded out carefully, your feet bare against the cool floor, and paused in the hallway. Thanos stood in the kitchen, shirtless, wearing only a loose pair of dark sweatpants. His purple hair was a tangled mess from sleep, pushed back lazily with one hand while the other gripped a mug. Steam rose gently from the coffee in his grasp. The window beside him was cracked open just enough to let in the morning breeze, which stirred the edge of the curtain. He didn’t look at you right away. He just sipped his drink, the light catching on the curve of his shoulder and the edge of a tattoo that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
You cleared your throat softly. “Morning.” He turned then, slow and casual, one brow slightly raised, like he wasn’t surprised you were awake but hadn’t really expected a conversation either. “You’re up,” he said simply, his voice low and a little rough from sleep. He gestured vaguely toward the coffee pot. “There’s more if you want some.” You walked in quietly, your fingers brushing the countertop as you moved, as if to make sure you were really awake and this wasn’t all still a dream. “Thanks,” you said, then paused, turning to look at him. “For last night. For bringing me home. For… looking out for me.”
Thanos leaned against the counter, the corner of his mouth pulling up in something like a smirk, but softer. “You make it sound like I did something heroic,” he said, exhaling slowly as he picked at the edge of the cigarette carton near the window. “You were about to get in trouble. I couldn’t just watch that happen.” He didn’t say it like it was a big deal, but the way he glanced at you when he thought you weren’t looking made you feel otherwise. “Still,” you said, cradling the warm mug between your hands, “You didn’t have to. I mean, we barely know each other.”
His eyes lingered on you then, slower, more thoughtful. “Maybe,” he murmured, “But I know enough.” You opened your mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, there was a silence, not uncomfortable, just full. Full of something neither of you could name yet. He looked away first, tipping the mug to his lips again. “Anyway,” he said after a moment, “You’re not that hard to carry. I’ve had worse.” You let out a breath that was half a laugh, half something more vulnerable. He gave you a sideways glance. “You feeling okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Just… still a little shaken.” He didn’t tease you for it. He just nodded slowly and handed you the creamer without you even asking. The way he moved around the kitchen was relaxed, like this had always been your routine. Like mornings like this had happened before, and maybe they would again. You didn’t say anything more. You just drank your coffee and let the silence hold the weight of your thank you, knowing he’d already heard it.
The rest of that morning passed quietly. After thanking Thanos, you finished your coffee in near silence. He lounged on the couch with his phone, headphones in, half-listening to some low beat that leaked softly into the still air. You didn’t say much to each other after that. Maybe it was the awkwardness from the night before, or maybe it was just who he was distant, closed off once the moment had passed. Either way, you spent most of the day finishing your room, organizing your things, preparing your outfit for the next morning, and checking your class schedule a dozen times. The apartment stayed quiet, save for Thanos walking around once in a while, his voice briefly rising when he answered a call or cursed under his breath in the kitchen.
You didn’t see much of him for the rest of the day. He disappeared sometime in the evening, came back late, and by then you were already tucked in bed with the lights out, pretending not to notice the soft click of the front door or the way his keys dropped too loudly on the counter.
⋆𐙚���˚⊹♡
The next morning, you woke with a buzz of nerves under your skin. It was your first official day at university. You dressed carefully, keeping it simple but clean. You wore your favorite perfume, tied your hair back neatly, and checked your backpack twice. Thanos was nowhere in sight. His door was shut, no light coming from underneath, and you figured he was either asleep or not home at all. You didn’t knock.
Campus was warm and alive when you got there. Students poured into the courtyards, laughing, calling out to one another. It was loud and bright and full of motion. Your nerves faded with each step. Your first class went better than you expected. The professor, a woman named Professor Seo, was warm and witty, and the lecture passed quickly. After class, a girl with dyed blue tips and a septum ring struck up a conversation with you while walking out of the building. Her name was Min-ji, and she was in your media studies class.
You liked her almost immediately. She talked fast, made jokes easily, and walked like she had somewhere better to be, but stayed anyway. The two of you ended up at a café near campus, tucked in the back by a window, sipping iced matcha lattes and swapping stories about your weird high school classmates and strict parents. Min-ji told you she grew up in Busan and had only moved to Seoul a year ago. She’d dyed her hair just to irritate her mother before starting college and claimed it was her most successful act of rebellion so far.
The sun had already begun to dip by the time you got home. The apartment was quiet again when you stepped in. You slipped your shoes off and dropped your bag by the door, stretching your arms overhead. The hallway was dim, the lights off, but as you passed his door, you froze. A soft thump echoed behind it, followed by a giggle. A girl’s voice, high and breathy. Then the sound of the bedsprings shifting, the unmistakable rhythm of movement. Another noise, a moan, low and masculine. His voice.
Your stomach turned sharply before your brain caught up. You didn’t know why it bothered you. It wasn’t like you were dating him. It wasn’t like he owed you anything. Still, you stood there a little too long, caught between the hallway and the sound behind the door. You couldn’t move until the next moan reached you, louder this time, followed by a burst of laughter from the girl.
You stepped quickly into your room and shut the door behind you. You didn’t turn on the light. You just sat on your bed, staring at your backpack like it had the answers you didn’t. You reminded yourself again, like a chant. He’s just your roommate. He can do whatever he wants. It doesn’t mean anything. But no matter how many times you whispered it in your head, it didn’t stop the way your chest ached or the heat that crept into your face when the moans continued through the wall.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The first few days of university swept over you quickly. Between early lectures, navigating new buildings, and keeping up with readings, your routine started to form whether you were ready for it or not. You ran into Min-ji again on Tuesday, and by Thursday you were already sharing snacks between classes and complaining about the same professor. University life was busy, but it was also exciting in a way that kept your thoughts mostly occupied during the day. Mostly.
Evenings were different. Evenings were slower, quieter, except for the occasional laughter or muffled thuds coming from the other side of your bedroom wall. You tried not to pay attention to it, tried not to guess what was happening or who was there, but sometimes it was unavoidable. Some nights were quiet. Others… less so. You’d hear the soft creak of his bed or a girl’s laugh trailing down the hallway. You’d roll over in bed, shove your earphones in, and remind yourself again that it didn’t matter. He could do what he wanted. You were just his roommate.
You and Thanos still spoke, but not much. Just small exchanges in the morning when you crossed paths in the kitchen or short conversations when you passed each other in the hall. He was always cool, casual, the same way he was when you first met him. He’d ask if you needed the stove or if he could borrow a lighter. You’d respond with quick, simple answers and slip back into whatever you were doing. He never seemed bothered by the silence. He didn’t push. And for a while, neither did you.
One evening, after a long day of back-to-back classes and a headache that had refused to fade, you decided to cook something warm. The apartment was dim, quiet again, the window above the sink cracked just slightly open to let the breeze in. You hadn’t eaten properly in hours, and the familiar rhythm of chopping vegetables and stirring a pot was oddly calming. The sound of your playlist playing softly from your phone filled the space, and for once, it felt peaceful in the kitchen.
You were setting two bowls on the counter habit, maybe when you noticed him. Thanos was sitting on the couch, legs stretched out, phone in one hand, a joint in the other. His head turned when he caught the scent of garlic and spice wafting through the air. You hesitated, standing there with a spoon in your hand, and finally spoke.
“Hey… I made enough for two. Do you want some?” Your voice came out more uncertain than you wanted it to, too soft maybe, and you immediately regretted asking. He looked up at you for a moment, brows lifting slightly like he hadn’t expected that. Then he grinned and leaned forward, crushing out the joint in the ashtray on the coffee table. “Shit, yeah. Smells good as hell in here,” he said, getting up with an easy stretch. He moved toward the kitchen and glanced at the pot. “What is it?”
“Just something simple. Spicy tofu stew. It’s not fancy or anything,” you said quickly, already reaching for the ladle to serve him. He watched you for a second, then leaned against the counter beside you. “Simple’s good. Better than ramen three nights in a row.” You handed him a bowl, your fingers brushing his for a second. He didn’t say anything about it, just took the food and moved to the table. You followed, bowl in hand, and sat across from him. For a while, you both just ate in silence. You weren’t sure what to say or how to break the quiet without sounding awkward. You focused on your food, kept your eyes on the bowl, only sneaking glances up at him every now and then. “This is good,” he said after a few bites, nodding as he chewed. “Like, really good.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled, keeping your gaze down. He glanced up at you, catching your discomfort almost instantly. “You always this quiet or am I just intimidating?”
You blinked, caught off guard, and fumbled your chopsticks a little. “No, I just… I guess I’m not used to this.” He tilted his head slightly. “Used to what? Eating dinner with someone or having a super-hot roommate?” Your eyes widened slightly, and he let out a soft laugh, clearly teasing, clearly enjoying himself. You shook your head, trying not to smile, even though part of you wanted to. “Both, maybe.”
“Well,” he said, settling back in his chair, “I think we should do this more often. You feed me, I keep being charming. It’s a good deal.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you just kept eating, cheeks warm. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t bad either. It was the first time the apartment felt a little more like a shared space and a little less like two strangers living side by side.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
It was late, the kind of late where the silence in the apartment felt thick and lazy, and even the traffic outside seemed to have dulled into a hum. You were curled up on the couch in one of Thanos’s oversized hoodies you had borrowed without asking, the sleeves falling way past your hands. A quiet show was playing on the television, something light and forgettable, more for background than anything else. A half-empty mug sat beside you on the coffee table, the tea gone cold an hour ago, and your feet were tucked under a blanket that had slipped halfway off. You weren’t sure if you were really watching anymore or just staring in the direction of the screen, letting the flickering light lull your thoughts.
The front door clicked open and you heard it swing shut with a soft thud. You didn’t have to look up to know it was him. His footsteps were familiar now, heavy but unhurried, and you could hear the faint rustle of a jacket being tossed somewhere. Thanos stepped into view a moment later, and when you did glance at him, you noticed his eyes immediately red-rimmed, sleepy-looking, a little glassy. He had that dazed expression you were starting to recognize, lips slightly parted, his hair pushed back lazily like he’d run his hands through it too many times. There was a slight sway in the way he stood, not sloppy, just loose, like gravity didn’t weigh the same on him anymore.
You blinked at him, then shifted slightly, making room on the couch. “Wanna join me?” you asked softly, hoping your voice didn’t sound as awkward as it felt coming out. He tilted his head a little, eyebrows raised as if surprised you’d offered. Then, slowly, he smirked. He didn’t say anything right away, just sauntered over and dropped himself down beside you, a little too close, his thigh brushing against yours as the couch sank beneath his weight. He leaned back and let out a slow breath, eyes on the TV screen even though he clearly wasn’t paying attention.
“What’re we watching?” he murmured after a moment, his voice low and rough, tinged with the kind of sleepy drawl that made you forget what you were watching in the first place. You glanced at the screen, then back at him. “Nothing important. I just didn’t feel like going to bed yet.” He turned his head to look at you then, and there was something in his gaze that made your breath pause, half amusement, half challenge. “You feeling lonely, princess?” he asked, his voice a little too casual to be innocent. “Or just hoping I’d come home and entertain you?”
Your face heated instantly, and you looked away, flustered. “I was just watching TV,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as if it could shield you from his teasing. He chuckled, slow and thick like smoke curling in the air. “You’re cute when you get all shy like that,” he said, his eyes still on you. “All curled up in my hoodie, inviting me over like you’re not low-key dying for my attention.” You swallowed hard, unsure whether to laugh it off or tell him to stop. But you didn’t do either. Instead, you turned back toward the screen, heart thudding quietly as his arm brushed yours again, deliberate or not. He leaned in just slightly, enough that you could smell the weed still clinging to his clothes and the faint trace of whatever cologne he’d worn earlier. His fingers reached out, grabbed the remote without asking, and began flipping through the channels with an air of authority, as if the night now belonged to him.
You didn’t say anything. You just let him, your hands tucked under the blanket, your heart trying to decide if this was what tension felt like or if it was something far more dangerous.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The days stretched on, sliding one into the next with a quiet rhythm you didn’t entirely hate. University kept you busy enough. Classes were long, assignments already piling up, and the campus buzzed with energy that made it easy to get lost in. You were starting to form your own little corner of life conversations with classmates after lectures, casual invites to cafés and study groups, and a growing sense that this new chapter could belong to you if you let it. But every day, no matter how packed it was with notes and names and new faces, ended in the same place. Back in the apartment. Back to him.
Thanos had a way of being everywhere and nowhere at once. He was unpredictable but constant, a flicker of purple hair vanishing into his room just as you came out of yours, or suddenly showing up in the kitchen shirtless and sleepy-eyed in the middle of the afternoon. And then there were the nights. They started out quiet, and then the laughter came, sometimes low murmurs or soft giggles behind his closed door, other times louder, unmistakable sounds of bodies and breath and skin. You told yourself you didn’t care. You were roommates, nothing more. You barely knew him. But it chipped at you slowly, like water dripping in the same spot until it carved something permanent. You started comparing yourself to the voices you didn’t recognize. Wondering what he saw in them. Wondering what he thought when he looked at you. You hated the thoughts, but they came anyway.
That morning was like any other. You’d gotten up early, groggy and dragging your feet to the bathroom with a towel in hand and your clothes slung over your arm. The apartment was quiet. You assumed he was still asleep as he’d had someone over again the night before. You turned on the water and stepped under the stream, letting it run over your skin, trying to shake off the weight of your thoughts. Your eyes were closed, your fingers in your hair, when you heard it. The door creaked, followed by a sharp pause. You opened your eyes, confused, and through the steamed glass you saw the silhouette of someone frozen in the doorway. “Shit-“ his voice was rushed, startled, “Didn’t know you were in here.”
You gasped and yanked the curtain closer to yourself, water splashing everywhere. “Thanos!” He cursed under his breath again, immediately turning his back but not moving fast enough. “Fuck, I thought you were still sleeping, I- Sorry,” he muttered, already halfway out the door. “Didn’t see anything. Well, not really. Just- forget it.” The door clicked shut and you stood there, heart hammering, skin burning hotter than the water. You finished your shower quickly, hands trembling slightly as you wrapped the towel around yourself, trying not to replay the moment. But it stuck to you all day like static cling. At university, you tried to shake it off. You laughed with friends, Jisoo from your literature class, Minji who always brought iced coffee for everyone, but it was like he’d carved a little space in your brain and stayed there. You went to a café after class, the four of you squeezed around a table too small, trading stories and gossip and pretending like nothing in your world was shifting beneath the surface. But the moment you walked through the apartment door that evening, it was like all the noise faded and the silence closed in.
Thanos was on the couch when you came in, shirtless again, hair damp from a recent shower. His eyes flicked to you, briefly, and then back to the screen. You hesitated for a moment, your bag slipping from your shoulder, and when he spoke it caught you off guard. “You’re quiet tonight,” he said, voice softer than usual. You shrugged, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water you didn’t even really want. “Just tired,” you mumbled, not sure if you wanted to talk. But you lingered in the kitchen, unsure why your feet wouldn’t carry you to your room.
He turned off the TV and leaned back on the couch, arms stretched out along the cushions, watching you. “Come sit,” he said simply. Not a question. Not a suggestion. Just a statement like he already knew you would. You did. Slowly. You sat on the far end of the couch, putting the water bottle on the table in front of you. Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence charged with something you didn’t know how to name. Then he looked over at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Still mad I walked in on you?”
Your face flushed, your eyes darting away. “I’m not mad,” you said too quickly. “It was just- awkward.” He nodded slowly, his voice dipping lower. “Yeah. It was awkward.” Then he paused. “You looked good though.” You turned to him, wide-eyed. “Thanos.”
“What?” he said with a lazy smile. “I said you looked good. I mean it. You’re cute when you’re flustered. Always hiding in your sweaters like you don’t know how pretty you are.” Your heart jumped, your breath caught somewhere in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. His words weren’t loud or dramatic, but they felt louder than anything else in the room. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees now, watching you like he was trying to decide something. You didn’t move. You couldn’t. Then he reached up, fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, slow and deliberate. “You know I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the night I carried you to bed.”
You blinked, but before you could speak, his hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face gently toward his. His thumb brushed your cheek, the same way it had that night, and then, without another word, he kissed you. Soft at first, slow and unhurried, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. You didn’t. You leaned into it, your hands curling into the front of his shirt. His lips pressed firmer, more sure now, like he’d been holding back for days. Your thoughts disappeared, melted into warmth and the feel of his mouth on yours. The kiss deepened, and with it came a rush of everything you’d been trying not to feel. When you finally pulled back, breathless, your eyes met his. There was something different in his expression now. Softer. Unspoken. Like maybe you weren’t the only one who had been feeling it all along.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
You went to bed that night with your heart still racing. His kiss had stayed with you long after the moment ended, echoing in the quiet of your room, in the weight of the sheets pulled over your body, in the memory of the way his thumb had brushed your cheek like he didn’t want to let go. You stared at the ceiling for hours, replaying it, overthinking it. What did it mean? Was it just one of his impulsive moments, something careless he’d forget by the morning? Or had it meant something real, something deeper than he was ready to say? You didn’t know. But it made sleep impossible. And when you did finally drift off, it was with your lips still tingling and your thoughts still tangled with his.
The next morning, he was different. Quiet. Not cold exactly, but distant in a way that curled under your skin like a splinter. He didn’t make eye contact when he passed you in the hallway. He didn’t say anything when you both stood in the kitchen at the same time, reaching for mugs and cereal. You offered a small, uncertain smile, but he didn’t return it. Just poured his coffee and left the room like nothing had happened. Like the night before hadn’t even existed. It stung more than you expected. You tried not to let it show. You distracted yourself with your morning routine, heading off to campus early and telling yourself it was fine. Maybe he was just hungover from something. Maybe he was tired. Maybe you’d imagined it all to be more than it really was.
But the ache didn’t go away. That evening, you heard him on the phone in the hallway, laughing with someone. He left not long after, dressed in that careless, sexy way he always did when he was going out. A hoodie slung over his shoulder, cologne lingering faintly in the air even after the door clicked shut behind him. You stayed in. Studied. Watched something forgettable on TV with the volume low. Tried not to wonder where he was or who he was with. You didn’t hear him come back that night. You fell asleep to silence, or maybe you just couldn’t hear the noise over your thoughts.
The next morning, you waited. You heard him in the kitchen, heard the fridge open, the sound of a spoon clinking against ceramic. You stood in the hallway with your hand lightly resting against your bedroom door, trying to decide if you should walk out. What you would say. Whether you even had the right to ask anything of him. It was just a kiss. It wasn’t a confession. But something about the way he had disappeared afterward, the way he avoided you, made it feel heavier than that. You didn’t want to be dramatic. You didn’t want to be the girl who couldn’t handle something simple. But you also didn’t want to pretend nothing had shifted inside you. You inhaled slowly and stepped out of your room, your heart a thudding pulse in your ears as you walked into the kitchen.
He was sitting at the table, one hand cradling a bowl of cereal, the other scrolling absently through his phone. His purple hair was messy like he hadn’t even bothered to run his fingers through it, and there were shadows under his eyes like maybe he hadn’t slept at all. You stood there for a second too long before you said anything. “Hey,” you finally murmured, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. He looked up. His eyes met yours, unreadable. “Hey,” he echoed, flatly. Then he went back to his cereal. You shifted your weight. “Can we talk?” You weren’t sure if it was the right question, or the wrong one, or too much all at once. But you asked it anyway, because pretending was already hurting more than the truth ever could.
He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the spoon in his bowl for a second too long before finally pushing it aside with a soft clink. The cereal was half-eaten, the milk untouched. He leaned back in the chair, stretching out his legs, then looked up at you again, this time more fully, more clearly, like he was trying to decide what you were really asking. The silence sat between you like a question neither of you knew how to word properly. His eyes scanned your face, slowly, and for a moment he looked tired. Not the usual tired that came from weed or late-night partying. This was different. Softer. He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, then exhaled like the weight of the moment was finally settling on him. “Yeah,” he said. His voice was low, quieter than usual, but not dismissive. “We can talk.”
You took a few steps closer, your heart jumping with every inch of space you closed. You sat across from him at the table, feeling painfully aware of how small your voice might sound. “About the other night…” you began, unsure how to keep going, unsure how much to say without pushing too far. “You kissed me,” you said softly, almost like it wasn’t obvious, like he might have somehow forgotten. But the way his eyes flicked away at that exact moment told you he hadn’t. He nodded once, slow. “I did.” It wasn’t defensive. It wasn’t cocky. Just a fact, resting on the table between you like another dish neither of you knew what to do with. “Did it mean anything to you?” The question came out of you before you could stop it, before you could even think about how vulnerable it sounded. His brows pulled together slightly, like the simplicity of it made it harder to answer.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. And somehow, that hurt more than a yes or no ever could. “I mean, yeah. It meant something.” His fingers tapped against the side of the bowl, restless. “I just… I’m not good at this shit. At being serious. At whatever that was. You’re not like the other girls I’m with. That kiss didn’t feel like something I could just laugh off the next morning.” He paused. “So I didn’t know what to do with that. I figured if I kept my distance, maybe it’d go away.” You didn’t speak. You didn’t know if you could. His honesty hit something soft inside you, something that had already been bending toward him without you realizing. “But it didn’t,” he added, quieter. “It didn’t go away.”
You looked down at your hands resting on the table. You wanted to say something, anything, but the knot in your throat made it hard. Eventually, you managed a quiet, “Okay.” You glanced back up at him, met his gaze. “So what now?” He looked at you, really looked at you, like he was peeling back every wall you still had left. Then he leaned forward, elbows on the table, his voice lower than before. “I don’t want to screw this up. You get that, right? You’re different. I know I mess around. I know you’ve seen it. But I’m not gonna do that with you. I don’t want to.” You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the relief, the tension, the overwhelming swirl of feelings that had been coiled in you finally starting to stretch out. “So don’t,” you said softly. “Don’t screw it up.”
A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, small and real. He leaned back in the chair again, his head tilted as he looked at you like he was seeing you in a new way. “You’re kinda scary when you’re honest, you know that?” he said with a small laugh. “But I like it.” His words made your chest ache in the best way. You sat there for a little while longer, not saying anything else, just letting the air between you settle. It wasn’t fixed. It wasn’t figured out. But it was something. And for the first time in days, you didn’t feel like you were alone in it.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The following days passed like soft ripples over the surface of something deeper, something neither of you had dared to name out loud. You didn’t talk about the conversation again, not directly, but things shifted to subtle things. He didn’t bring girls home anymore. At least not in those days. He still partied, still left the apartment late and came back smelling like cigarettes and cheap beer, but he lingered more often now. His presence in the apartment stopped feeling accidental. He’d pass you in the hallway and let his hand brush yours without pulling back. You’d be sitting on the couch with your notes spread out across your lap and feel his eyes on you longer than necessary, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to tease you or tell you something he hadn’t figured out yet. The tension between you built in quiet moments. Shared silences in the kitchen, brushing shoulders in the doorway, the warmth of his arm close to yours when you both sat on the couch watching something neither of you was paying attention to.
It happened again one evening when you were making tea, the apartment already dim with the sunset bleeding in through the windows. You stood at the counter, fingers tracing the ceramic of your mug, when he came up behind you, not close enough to touch, just close enough to feel the heat of him. “You always drink this mint stuff,” he murmured, his voice soft and low behind you. “You know it’s supposed to be calming?” You smiled faintly without turning. “Maybe I need calming,” you said. “You live with me. That checks out.” You finally looked over your shoulder at him, and that was it. Something about the way his eyes held yours, the way his mouth softened, like he was thinking too many things at once. He reached out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and kissed you, gently this time, without the drunken urgency of the first one. This one was careful, coaxing, like he was waiting for you to pull away but hoping you wouldn’t. And you didn’t. You leaned into it, your hand catching the fabric of his shirt, your lips parting when he deepened it. It was slow and warm, like a question with an obvious answer.
The second kiss came the next day. No reason. No tea. Just you reading on the couch and him walking in like he hadn’t spent the past hour pacing his room trying to find the nerve. He sat down beside you and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours before you could ask why. You kissed him back anyway. This one was heavier, longer. When he pulled back, he didn’t explain, and you didn’t ask. That night, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had held your face like it mattered. Like you mattered.
It happened for the third time a few nights later. You were curled up on the couch, watching some late-night movie you weren’t really following, legs tucked beneath you in one of his oversized hoodies. He came in smelling faintly of weed, his hair tousled and his eyes slightly red. But he didn’t say anything. He just sat next to you, pulled a blanket over both your legs, and watched in silence. Somewhere during the second act of the movie, your hand found his, resting between you. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move away. Just let it happen. Let it stay. When you finally looked at him, his eyes were already on you, unreadable and intense. He leaned in again, this time slower, his mouth brushing against yours like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you closer into his lap without a word. The kiss turned heavier, your breathing changing, your skin suddenly too warm. His hands explored carefully, deliberately, like he was asking permission with every inch he touched. And when you pulled back, slightly breathless, he looked at you with something raw and real in his eyes.
“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice shaking even though you didn’t mean it to. He stared at you for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. He cupped your cheek gently, thumb brushing just under your eye. “You don’t have to do anything,” he said, and you believed him. But you wanted to. Not because you felt pressured, not because it was expected, but because you trusted him. Because the feelings you’d tried to ignore had grown too loud to pretend anymore.
He looks at you with something tender in his eyes, something that makes your heart flutter despite the nervousness bubbling inside you. He leans forward slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you want to. His hand remains on your cheek as he presses another soft kiss against your lips. He takes his time, his lips trailing gentle kisses down your neck, each one sending shivers down your spine. His hands move slowly, carefully unbuttoning your shirt and sliding it off your shoulders. He pauses every few seconds to check in with you, making sure you're still comfortable and willing. Seeing that you're still with him, he continues to undress you, his movements deliberate and gentle. He slides your shirt off completely and lets it fall to the floor before moving on to your bra. His fingers trace the edge of it softly before unhooking it and letting it slip away. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you, his eyes soft and admiring. He leans down to kiss your collarbone, then your chest, each kiss tender and reverent. His hands move to your waistband, slowly unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs. He helps you step out of your pants before he starts removing his own clothes. He watches your face the whole time, making sure you're still okay with everything. He pulls off his shirt first, then his pants.
He watches you closely for any sign of discomfort or change of mind. He finds you incredibly beautiful. Your long legs, your small waist, your full breasts. He swallows hard, trying to keep his touch soft and unrushed. He slides your panties down slowly, leaving you completely bare before him. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers start to tease your entrance. He moves slowly, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. His touch is gentle and careful, his fingers slipping inside you one at a time. He can feel you getting wetter, more responsive to his touch. He curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that makes your legs tremble. He kisses you harder, swallowing your moans as he starts to move his fingers in and out of you faster. “You like that?" You nod desperately at him. He smiles against your lips, pleased with your reaction. He adds another finger, stretching you wider, preparing you for something bigger. His thumb finds your clit and starts to circle it, applying pressure that makes your entire body shudder. "So fucking pretty when you're wet like this."
You’ve never felt the sensation of this before. It felt incredibly good and the best of this all is that it’s with him. He can feel you getting closer, your body tensing as he continues to pleasure you. He leans down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently as he continues to finger you. He wants to make this the best first time for you, wants to show you how much he cares for you. He feels you climax, your walls tightening around his fingers as you come undone. He swallows your cries of pleasure, his own body aching with need. He slowly removes his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking your juices off them with a satisfied groan. "Delicious." He kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, checking if you're still okay with everything. He wants this to be perfect for you. His voice is low and husky. "Are you ready for more?"
“Yeah, I think so.” You answer while nodding. He smiles softly, his hands moving to his own boxers. He’s pushing it down as his cock springs free, hard and ready. He takes it in his hand and strokes it gently, giving you a moment to look at him. You stared at him curiously. He notices your curious gaze and gives you a small smile, knowing this is your first time seeing a man fully aroused. He strokes himself slowly, showing you how he likes it. “You can touch it if you want," he says softly, guiding your hand toward him if needed. You then carefully touch his cock. He makes a small, satisfied groan as your fingers wrap around him, and he guides your hand to show you how to move. His cock jerks in your hand, leaking precum at the tip. “Fuck..." He breathes out, watching your face to make sure you're comfortable. He kisses you deeply again, his hand covering yours to speed up the movements on his cock. He breaks the kiss to whisper, "Lie back..." He wants to be inside you now, wants to make love to you slowly and gently. He kisses you one last time before stepping away briefly to grab a condom from his wallet. He tears the packet open with his teeth and rolls it onto himself slowly, watching you lay there on the couch waiting for him. He positions himself between your legs, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance. "I need you to tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop," he whispers gently, his voice shaking slightly with restraint. He presses the tip inside you carefully, watching your expression closely. He's trying his best to be gentle for your first time. "Breathe for me." You did as he said and breathed slowly. He pushes in a little further, feeling your tightness wrap around him. He pauses, allowing you to adjust to the sensation. He kisses you softly, continuing to push inside you inch by inch until he's fully seated. He stays still, letting you get used to the feeling of being filled.
"Are you okay?" *He asks softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His self-control is hanging by a thread. He's aware this might hurt, but seeing your trusting eyes looking up at him makes him want to be gentle. "Do you want me to move?" You nod at him. “I’m okay, you can move but slowly please.” You said in a bit of a nervous tone. He nods gently, understanding your nervousness. He starts to move slowly, pulling out just an inch before pushing back in gently. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, making sure you're okay with every movement. His voice is soft and reassuring. “Just tell me if it hurts too much." You hold eye contact with him as he moves inside of you. His pace remains slow and steady, careful not to go too deep too fast. The way you trustingly maintain eye contact with him is almost too much. He can feel the urge to go faster building inside him, but he's determined to make this good for you. “You're doing so well,"
“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation. He smiles softly at you, nodding. “Yes, you're taking me really well," He praises, his voice gentle. He leans down to kiss you softly, his hips continuing to move in slow circles. Suddenly, he hits a spot inside you that makes you gasp, breaking the kiss. His smile widens slightly as he sees your reaction. He knows he found your sweet spot. He starts to move a little faster now, hitting that spot repeatedly. Your gasps and soft moans are music to his ears. “Does that feel good?" He asks, his voice husky with desire. “Feels good, yeah.” You answer as you whimper softly. He kisses you again, his tongue sliding against yours as he continues to hit that sensitive spot inside you. He can feel his own pleasure building, but he's focused on making sure you're enjoying this too. He breaks the kiss to whisper, “Can I pick up the pace a bit?" You nod at him as you wanted to feel as much as you could of him. He starts moving faster and deeper, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your growing moans. He leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently as he thrusts. He maintains a steady rhythm, his hips moving with controlled force now. The way your body responds to his is driving him wild. He alternates between sucking on your breasts and kissing you deeply, wanting to cover every inch of you with his mouth. "You're being so good..." You just give him desperate puppy eyes. His self-control snaps a little at your puppy eyes. He knows those eyes can make him do anything. He grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders, going deeper and hitting that spot harder. Your desperate little moans and whimpers are almost too much.
"Fuck, look at you," He groans, his eyes roaming over your flushed face and bouncing chest. He leans down to kiss you messily, his tongue tangling with yours. Suddenly, he hits your sweet spot particularly hard, and you let out a loud, high-pitched whimper. A dark, seductive chuckle escapes him at that whimper, and he hits that spot again, just as forcefully. “So fucking beautiful when you make those noises," He whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Are you close, sweet thing? Hmm?"
“Almost, yeah.” You cry out. He increases his pace dramatically, pounding into you with urgent thrusts. One hand reaches between your bodies to rub firm circles over your clit. “Come for me then. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock." His dirty words combined with the intense stimulation push you over the edge. Your body convulses around him, your inner walls clenching tightly as you come undone. He groans deeply, feeling your orgasm milking him. He continues to thrust through your climax, drawing out every last wave of pleasure from your body. Your moans are loud and uninhibited now. Seeing you lose control like this is his breaking point. With a final deep thrust, he buries himself inside you as deep as he can go and holds still, his own release hitting him like a wave crashing onto rocks. He groans loudly against your neck as he fills up the condom with his hot release.
He stays inside you for a long moment, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he kisses your neck and shoulders. When he finally pulls out, a bit of of your release spills out, dripping onto the couch. “Fucking hell," He mutters, wiping sweat from his forehead. You lay there on the couch while he goes to the bathroom to clean himself up and throw away the condom. He grabs a few towels for you and then comes to the couch as he helps to clean you up. He carefully cleans between your legs with a wet towel, his touch gentle now. He spreads your thighs to make sure he's getting all the evidence of your mind-blowing sex. He throws the dirty towels away and pulls you onto his lap, your back against his chest.
He held you there, warm and quiet, your bare skin pressed to his chest as his arms folded loosely around your waist. His fingers rested just beneath your ribs, unmoving, as if the rise and fall of your breath was all he needed to feel in that moment. The air in the room was still, thick with the scent of skin and sweat and something more tender that neither of you dared to speak aloud just yet. You let your head lean back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his chin gently rested on the crown of your head. The silence wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t filled with questions or worry or doubt. It was just full. Full of what had passed between you, of the way his hands had learned your body, slow and reverent, of the way your name had spilled from his lips like he had been holding it back all this time. And now, with your legs curled over his and your breath steadying in the hush of your room, you whispered it. “I liked it.” The words barely left your lips, soft and warm in the space between you, but you knew he heard them by the way his arms tightened slightly around your frame. His mouth brushed against the side of your head in a half-smile, half-kiss that lingered longer than it needed to.
“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice deeper now, softer, stripped of its usual bravado. “Me too. A lot.” He sounded almost surprised to admit it out loud, like saying it gave it weight he had not prepared for. You turned a little in his arms, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, the slight curve of his lips, the way his eyes traced yours with something bordering on fondness. Your hand found his, fingers brushing over the back of it slowly. “Choi Su-bong,” you said quietly, and his eyes snapped to yours with a flicker of something that looked almost like panic before it faded into confusion. “Wait, what?” You smiled, small and knowing. “That’s your real name. I found your student ID in the laundry basket last week. You left it in your hoodie pocket.” His brows rose, caught somewhere between surprise and mild embarrassment. “Shit,” he said under his breath, chuckling softly. “You really just kept that to yourself?” You nodded, your smile widening just a little. “I kind of liked the mystery. But I like knowing too. Su-bong suits you. Even if you try to pretend it doesn’t.” He laughed again, but it was quieter now, a little bashful, a little caught off guard by how gently you said it. “God, no one calls me that,” he muttered, pressing his forehead lightly to your shoulder. “It’s so formal. Sounds like a name you’d hear on the evening news.” You tilted your head toward him, your lips brushing the edge of his jaw. “Maybe. Or maybe it just sounds like you when you’re not pretending to be someone you’re not.”
He didn’t respond to that right away. You felt him breathe in, then out, slow and steady. His fingers slipped beneath the curve of your knee as he held you closer, his touch no longer urgent or demanding, just present. Steady. “You make me feel like I don’t have to pretend,” he admitted after a long moment, his voice so low it almost disappeared into your skin. “That scares the shit out of me.” You turned fully in his lap then, your legs straddling his waist, your arms resting around his shoulders as you looked him in the eyes. He didn’t look away this time. “It scares me too,” you said, and the honesty in your voice settled something between you. “But I don’t regret it. Any of it. Not the kiss. Not the mess. Not this.” His hands moved to your hips, grounding you, anchoring both of you in the quiet swirl of feelings that neither of you had fully named. “So what now?” he asked, his forehead resting against yours, eyes closed like he was afraid of what your answer might be. You kissed the corner of his mouth softly, your thumb brushing the side of his face. “Now we stop pretending it didn’t happen. And maybe we see what it looks like when we stop running from it.” He opened his eyes then, and whatever he was about to say got caught in the softness between your lips as he kissed you again. Not like before. This one wasn’t rushed or hungry. It was slow and sinking. Like he was letting himself fall. And this time, he didn’t pull away.
#squid game#choi su bong#choi su bong x reader#thanos#thanos x reader#player 230#squid game 2#squid game fanfic#squid game smut#squid game x reader#park min su#nam gyu squid game#nam gyu smut#thanos x nam gyu#gihun x inho#thanos x y/n#dae ho squid game#seong gi hun#thanos squid game#park gyeong seok#thanos smut#squid game 3
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ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ♛ ʟɴ⁴ - one
➣ family friend!reader x ln⁴
➣ and just like that you're growing closer each day and falling in love has never felt this good.
➣ being told you feel like home might just be the best compliment you've received in a while.
➣ tired of all the negativity in this fandom so gonna treat myself with nothing but teeth rotting fluff ♡ big ass family so lots of OC's and just a heads up but really not a surprise coming from me but reader is like 4-5 years older so if that's not your thing, don't read. Fun fact, I don't proof read my stuff so enjoy the spelling mistakes <3
➣ reblogs and comments are welcome, alright love u 😘
➣ next chapter
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y/nusername

liked by landonorris and others
y/nusername kidless.
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iamzarah "what the hell am I then?" - Milo and Stella reading that caption
↳ jamiejamezz can't call Milo a kid, that rat is the devil himself
y/nusername stop calling him a rat and he might start to like you back
iamivy bro you are the devil himself
norrizz love me a lazy sunday ❤️
julieeeexo is it a lazy sunday though, are you sure you're not deep cleaning the entire house? 🤣
↳ y/nusername 😅
freyafrey that's that mum life 😔
quinking posting on insta but ignoring my texts, I see how it is..i am your least favourite sibling
↳ landonorris stop bullying her then
quinking mate you're the biggest bully here!
landonorris i'd never bully y/n
hannahh hope you enjoy your free time before the storm hits again 😂
ethanlowe must be nice..
↳ y/nusername it's your turn next week
ethanlowe 🙌
maxfewtrell what one one-night stand gets you 9 months later am I right?
iamzarah fewtrell, violation much? 😭
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y/nusername

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y/nusername two besties hitting the big 05 ❤️
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quinking yooo happy birthday to my best friends ❤
adam_norris_pure_electric happy birthday to the twins
freyafrey eating them up 😍
↳ iamivy pretty sure i had dibs on them but okay..
freyafrey there's two, we each get one ☺
y/nusername cannibalism is not it guys..
norry4 happiest of birthdays to these cuties! <3
iamzarah happy birthday to the funkiest guy and cutest girl! 🥰🥰
iamivy happy birthday to my favorites in this family, lotsa love and kisses 💜
hannahh for they grow up too fast!!
jamiejamezz happy bday you crazies 💥❤🎉
riabish happy birthday to the cutest set of twins! 🎊
landonorris happy birthday muppets ❤️
↳ norrizz nawwwh his two besties turning 5 !!
y/nusername been told to thank you and call you gremlin, so there's that
landonorris tell them I'll return the gifts
norry4 😭
y/nusername you're not welcome anymore :(
landonorris oh 😔
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y/nusername posted to their story

landonorris replied to your story
landonorris
that's me 😁
did noah watch the race?
y/nusername
yeah, he wanted to watch with his dad though, he send me a video of a very happy Noah 😂
I'll send it to you
landonorris
Can't wait to see it!
landonorris
What world are we living in?
Quin taking you out for dinner?
what does he need now? 😂
y/nusername
I know, I was as suprised as you are!
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y/nusername

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y/nusername bunch of animals 🐘
tagged: iamzarah, maxfewtrell, landonorris, jamiejamezz, iamivy
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quinking oh so everyone got an invite but me?
↳ freyafrey do you see me in these pictures? No invite for me either boy
quinking yeah but you're too old for fun
freyafrey I'm literally a year older than your sister, don't make me come for you little boy
landonorris life would be so much easier if you stop bullying everyone mate
quinking real rich coming from you mate 🤣
land0n0rriss so who's this then? 👀
imivy meet dads side of the family today ❤️🦥
norrizz hope you had fun with all your kids!!
norrisbob new wag alert????
jamiejamezz Bob still mad the whole gang joined? 🤪
↳ maxfewtrell watch it mate you might hit a nerve there
iamzarah bit weird to take your maid on a date no?
landonorris you're all so funny!
iamivy uncalled for, we all take our maid on dates
y/nusername if y'all stop living like actual pigs, you wouldn't need this maid
landonorris bit dramatic but we still love you ❤️
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comments and reblogs are welcome ♡ taglist is open.
#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris#lando norris au#lando norris smau#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader
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𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐓 ꩜ juju watkins ¹² (part 4/4)



free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!
MASTERLIST | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE
ᝰ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7.6k
ᝰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | she was born to be great—legacy inked in her blood, she was a taurasi. committing to usc was supposed to be her moment, her name, her story. but this is juju watkins' court. and kingdoms don’t like to be threatened.
ᝰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fluffy softness, a lot of slow touches and yearning, injuries (srry...), mentions of panic attacks, post-game emotion, recovery/healing, HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!
ᝰ 𝒆𝒗'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 | whew, one month, twenty redbulls and five times of complete rewriting and editing later, its here!!! part four!!! the finale, with the perfect mix of angst and sapphiuc yearning, featuring my favs - taurasi and watkins<3 sorry for the long wait, but we're here and i hope u enjoy it!!
NOTE: i didn’t follow the real timeline of this years womens march madness (2025) cause it didn’t quite fit the story pacing-wise BUT i hope you can let that slide bc this was all about the girls and their journey :,) thank you sm for reading all the way through, i love these two with my whole chest
The Crumbl Cookie parking lot is nearly empty, the kind of quiet that only settles in L.A. when the sun’s starting to slide behind the hills and the evening haze curls around streetlights like smoke. You’re perched on the hood of Juju’s car, one sneaker tucked under your thigh, the other swinging lazily off the bumper. Juju’s beside you, legs spread, shoulders relaxed, her phone in one hand and a warm pink sugar cookie in the other.
“You got frosting on your cheek,” she says, not looking up from her phone.
You swipe at the wrong side.
She glances up, smirks, then leans in, thumb swiping the smudge gently from your skin. Her touch is soft. Unthinking, easy, like it belongs there, like this is normal now.
And it is, that’s the strangest part.
You’re not sure when it stopped being new, this comfort you feel with her. When it stopped being strange to walk out of the gym and immediately check where she is. When it stopped being conscious, the way your shoulder always angles toward hers. The way she always reaches for your bag before you can.
Maybe it was right after the Utah game. That moment in the hallway where you broke open and she caught every falling piece of you like she was meant to.
Maybe it was the days that followed — the quiet check-ins, the small touches, the way she started really seeing you and not just what the rest of the world expected from you.
Either way, this is just what it is now.
You and Juju, tied at the hip.
“So,” she says after a beat, still scrolling, “when are you gonna admit that I was right about the confetti cookie?”
You lift an eyebrow. “Never. It’s a mediocre sugar cookie in a fun little outfit.”
She gasps, dramatic. “Take that back!”
“Not a chance.”
Juju puts her phone down, fake-offended. “You’re lucky you’re the best shooter in college hoops right now or I’d bench you myself.”
You snort. “You and what authority?”
“I got pull.”
“I am the pull.”
She laughs and it’s real, and it sinks into your ribs like sunlight.
You tear off another piece of your chocolate chip cookie — classic, unbeatable and nudge her knee with yours.
“You know Coach said the same thing today?” you say after a moment, quieter now. “About being the best shooter.”
Juju tilts her head. “Yeah? How’d it feel to hear it?”
You shrug, licking sugar off your thumb. “Weird. Good, maybe a little scary.”
“Why scary?”
You hesitate. Then glance over at her, honest now.
“Cause it means I’m not just Diana’s kid anymore.”
She watches you for a second, then leans in, shoulder bumping yours.
“You haven’t been just Diana’s kid in a long time.”
You know that. You do. But hearing it from Juju makes it settle deeper.
The truth is, everything’s changed since that night in December. That one game — Utah, was supposed to break you. It nearly did. But it also cracked something open that needed air.
And since then, you’ve been on fire.
Not in the “playing angry” kind of way. Not in the “trying to prove something” kind of way either. More like, finally letting yourself be.
Letting yourself shoot without second-guessing. Lead without pretending you know all the answers. Letting yourself feel — fear, joy, pressure and not fold under the weight of it.
January was your cleanest month yet. 22.7 points per game, 54% from three, no turnovers in the last four games. No one's talking about your last name anymore.
They’re talking about your footwork, your passing vision, your ability to find separation even in double coverage. They’re talking about you.
USC hasn’t dropped a game since that night.
You’ve beaten Stanford on the road. Beat UCLA twice. Took Oregon in overtime and you sealed it with a step-back three that made ESPN run the highlight five times in a row.
And through it all, Juju’s been right there.
The two of you have become USC’s heartbeat. Different rhythms, her power and drive, your finesse and precision but in sync. She calls you her “shooting guard/emotional support sniper.” You roll your eyes every time.
But the truth is, this works. This thing between you. On the court, off of it.
She’s the first one to wrap an arm around your shoulders after a win. The first one to notice when your hands start to shake before tip-off. The only one who never treats your silence like a warning sign, but like a weather pattern she already knows how to read.
She sees you. And for the first time in your life, you’re letting yourself be seen.
You pop the last bite of your cookie into your mouth and sigh, content.
“This was a good idea,” you say.
Juju grins. “I always have good ideas.”
You hum. “Except for the time you tried to put hot Cheetos in your mac and cheese.”
“Okay, that was innovative.”
“That was vile.”
“You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”
You’re laughing again, and it feels easy. Light. The way it used to before the weight of the season got heavy.
You stretch your legs out in front of you, leaning back on your palms, head tilted toward the stars that are just starting to peek out.
“Do you think it’s gonna last?” you ask, and you don’t have to say what it means.
Juju takes a beat.
Then: “I think we’re gonna make it last.”
You turn your head, look at her. She’s already looking at you.
There’s something steady in her gaze. Something that doesn’t flinch under pressure. Something you’ve started to lean on more than you probably should, but she’s never once let you fall.
Not since that night.
You nod, exhale slowly. “Okay.”
Juju stands, stretches her arms over her head, and then offers her hand.
“Come on, superstar. We got film in the morning.”
You take it, let her pull you up.
You don’t let go right away.
It’s mid-February, and the air inside the Galen Center feels electric.
Not the kind of electricity that zaps or surprises. It’s warmer than that — dense and humming like a storm still gathering in the distance. There’s a current running under the floorboards, through the sneakers squeaking across the hardwood, through every breath in practice. Every drill, every rep, every timeout.
March is close. You can feel it in your bones.
There’s a different kind of tension now. Not panic, not the spiraling weight that nearly cracked you months ago. This is sharper, focused, purposeful. The kind of pressure you want because you know who you are now.
And you’re not just chasing some win. You’re chasing everything.
The banners. The legacy. The story they’ll write about you when it’s all said and done.
You’re chasing the right to say: “We did that.”
You finish your last rep of shell defense and slap the floor, yelling out the rotation before the scout team can even make the extra pass. You see it all now, three steps ahead. There’s no more second-guessing. No more hesitation.
Coach blows the whistle and everyone resets. Sweat drips down your back, your hands on your knees, chest heaving but you’re grinning. Because you feel it.
This team can win the whole damn thing.
They’ve been doubting you all year. Not directly, not to your face; no one’s dumb enough to say it like that. But the whispers are always there. Every headline. Every pregame panel. Every bracket prediction.
UConn’s backcourt is deeper. South Carolina’s size is unmatched. LSU’s got more firepower.
You hear it all. You register it.
But you don’t let it get in.
Because this team — your team, doesn’t need to be anyone else’s favorite.
You just need forty minutes.
And that’s all you’re going to give, every damn time.
Coach huddles everyone at center court as practice winds down. She runs through the last few logistics for the week, reminds everyone that the committee’s watching every game from here on out. That nothing’s promised. That USC hasn't been to a Final Four in over three decades.
But you believe it now. Not in the story that’s already been told but the one you’re writing.
The one you’ve bled into. The one you’ve built, brick by brick since the day you stepped on campus. Since that night in your backyard in Phoenix with your moms, telling Di that you can do it. Prove it.
You lean into the circle, sweat-damp hair pulled back, towel around your neck, and glance to your right.
Juju’s already looking at you.
She offers a fist, and you bump it. Quick, solid. No words needed.
That night, you stay in the gym later than usual.
The lights overhead hum, the court echoing under your footsteps as you run solo sets with one of the assistants. Juju stayed for the first half-hour, stretching on the sideline while you worked on spot-up threes but she didn’t press when you told her you needed a few more.
She knows you well enough now to understand this is your rhythm.
That the game lives in your lungs and your legs and your bloodstream, that it doesn’t quiet down just because the sun sets.
You’ve been sharper than ever in February, your numbers show it but what drives you lately isn’t just stats or scouting reports.
It’s her. Diana.
You don’t say it out loud. Not to Juju. Not to Coach. Not even to yourself most days. But deep down, you know.
You’re trying to prove something.
Not that you’re her. You’re long past that lie.
But that you could lead something as big, as unshakable, as the dynasty she once captained. That you could do it differently, on your terms, in your own voice and still win.
That this team you’ve helped build, piece by piece, doesn’t have to stand in anyone else’s shadow.
That legacy doesn’t have to be inherited.
It can be earned.
You take your final shot from the left wing. It sinks clean through. You hold your follow-through.
You picture the net cutting, the confetti, the final horn.
You believe it.
“Still going?”
Juju’s voice floats in from the entrance tunnel. You turn, smile.
She’s already changed into sweats, holding a Gatorade and a pack of orange slices like she’s your personal trainer. Which, let’s be honest, she kind of is.
“Wrapped up,” you say, walking over to grab your bottle.
She hands you the snacks wordlessly, and you peel them open without hesitation.
“You ever think about it?” you ask between bites, voice softer now.
She raises an eyebrow. “Think about what?”
“Winning it. The whole thing.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Every day.”
You nod. “Same.”
There’s a quiet beat between you. Comfortable. Charged.
“You think we can really do it?” you ask, but it’s not insecurity that drives the question. It’s hope. Raw and real and hungry.
Juju steps closer, tilts her head.
“No,” she says.
You blink, thrown for half a second.
Then she smirks. “I know we can.”
Your laugh escapes before you can stop it, full and genuine.
She bumps your shoulder with hers, eyes softening.
“And you — you're the heart of it. The reason we're here.”
You shake your head. “You’re just saying that.”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”
And you know she’s right.
Because Juju’s the one person who’s never sugarcoated anything with you. Never treated you like some shiny thing, or a name she had to tiptoe around. From the start, she’s seen the cracks. The temper. The spiral under pressure. The obsession with doing everything right.
She’s seen it all.
And she still shows up. Every time.
That’s the part that gets you. That makes something warm flicker deep in your chest. Not the belief. Not the praise. The constancy.
The fact that someone like her — strong, grounded, golden, sees all your mess and still chooses to be here.
Still believes.
You don’t say any of that. But you nod.
And you whisper, “Thanks.”
Juju shrugs like it’s nothing, but her eyes say everything.
“You’re my teammate,” she says. “We all carry this together.”
And you do.
Because this year, it’s not just about you anymore.
It’s about every late night, every double-practice, every film session that made your eyes blur. Every teammate who picked you up when you were seconds from folding. Every assistant who believed in the team before the rankings did. Every fan who started chanting your name instead of your mom’s.
It’s about USC.
And you’re not just ready. You’re hungry.
Let them doubt you. Let them ride for UConn or South Carolina or whoever else they want.
You know what’s coming.
You’re sitting on Juju’s couch, half-curled up, hoodie sleeves bunched around your wrists and your hair still damp from the shower you took in her bathroom. She’s not even sure when it started; when you started just being here all the time. Leaving your slides by her door, borrowing her socks, knowing where she keeps the mugs without asking.
It used to feel like an intrusion. Back when she didn’t know what this feeling was, back when she swore it was just tension; competitive, inconvenient, complicated. Back when she used to call you “Taurasi” with a bite in her tone just to keep space between you.
But now? Now it feels wrong when you’re not around.
You’re just... in her world. Without ever asking for permission. And Juju hasn’t pushed you out. Not once. That should’ve told her everything.
You're sitting there now, sipping some mint tea like it’s your ritual, curled into her throw blanket that you say "smells like her," and you look at peace. Comfortable. Maybe even happy. And Juju’s chest feels too tight with it. The quiet, the ease. The fact that she wants to memorize every little detail of this.
The way your pinky curls around the mug. The way you hum when you read something funny on your phone, not even realizing you’re doing it. The way you don’t bother filling silence with chatter when you’re around her; just breathing, just being and somehow that’s louder than anything.
She’s sitting on the other end of the couch, pretending to scroll through film breakdowns on her iPad but really, she’s just watching you in the reflection of the black screen.
And thinking. Thinking too much.
You’re not just her teammate. That lie’s long dead.
You’re not just a shooter she depends on, or someone she has to look out for because you might take her spot at USC. You’re you.
And Juju — God, she likes you. Like, really likes you.
Not in a dramatic, movie-scene way. But in a real way. A quiet, persistent thing that tugs at her every time you do something soft. Something sincere, something vulnerable that no one else gets to see.
She used to resent that. Used to tense up anytime she caught herself staring too long or letting her mind go places it shouldn't. Back when she was still trying to keep her world rigid and clean and sharp, like the game. Like the plan.
But now? She’s stopped fighting it.
There was something about holding you that night — your body shaking in her arms, your breathing sharp and jagged, the taste of salt in her throat from your tears and realizing you trusted her enough to break apart in front of her.
That was it.
That was the moment it stopped being something she could rationalize away. Because in that moment, she didn’t feel like your teammate or her rival.
She felt like something else. Like something closer.
And she wanted to be that person. The one you came to when things cracked. The one who held the pieces, even when you didn’t know how to ask.
She still does. Always will.
You let out a sigh, soft and tired and let your head fall against the back of the couch, your profile glowing in the dim yellow light of the floor lamp. Juju watches your throat bob as you swallow the last sip of tea and she’s hit with the urge to tuck your hair behind your ear. To touch you.
She doesn't.
But she thinks about it. She thinks about it a lot these days.
Instead, she shifts a little closer, resting her arm along the top of the couch behind you. Not touching. Just there.
You glance over, lazy-eyed, voice soft.
“You good?”
Juju nods once. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
You blink slow, the way you do when you're half-asleep but trying not to miss a moment. “About what?”
She could say film. Or practice. Or the Pac-12 standings. Something easy.
But she doesn’t want easy. Not with you.
So instead, she says, “You.”
And your whole body stills.
Not in a scared way. Just... like you heard something real and you're trying to decide what to do with it.
Juju exhales, slow and careful, and for once she doesn’t try to dance around it.
“I think I’ve been thinking about you for a while now,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “Longer than I wanted to admit.”
You blink again. But your voice stays steady. “Yeah?”
She nods. “Yeah.”
You shift a little, turning toward her on the couch, knees bumping hers now. Close, closer than ever.
There’s a pause. Full and warm and so quiet.
And then you ask: simple, honest and impossible not to love. “What do you think about me?”
Juju breathes in, her heart hammering so hard she’s shocked you can’t hear it.
“I think you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. I think you love this game so much it scares you. I think... I think you try to carry everything, all the time and you don’t let anyone carry you.”
You’re watching her now with wide, unblinking eyes.
She continues, voice low and full.
“And I think I’d carry it for you, if you let me.”
Your bottom lip trembles just once before you bite it back. But you don’t say anything. You just reach forward, careful and slow, and place your hand over hers where it’s resting on her thigh.
Your skin is warm. Familiar. Unshaking. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Juju doesn’t overthink it.
She just laces your fingers with hers.
And lets herself have it. The truth. The feeling.
You.
Not as a teammate. Not as Diana’s daughter. Not as the best shooter in college basketball.
Just as you.
You, in her hoodie. In her space, in her heart.
The gym’s quieter than usual. That sweet spot after practice when the sweat’s dried and nobody’s in a rush to leave. Just the echo of someone shooting free throws at the far end, sneakers squeaking lazily, a water bottle rolling somewhere out of sight. The air still hums with leftover energy, but it’s the good kind. Loose, easy.
You’re on the floor, back pressed against the bench, legs outstretched and one knee drawn up. Juju’s right beside you — close like she always is lately. Thighs pressed together, shoulders brushing now and then, like neither of you even notice, like it’s just default. Natural.
You sip your water and watch Kiki peel the tape off her fingers with surgical focus, while Avery stretches her calves like she’s got somewhere to be, which she absolutely does not.
Kiki groans. “I swear Coach is making us run suicides just to feed some dark urge.”
“She said it’s for mental toughness, whatever the hell that means,” Avery says, her voice mockingly high-pitched, doing her best Coach impression. “‘Close games are won on legs and lungs!’”
Kiki snorts. “Close games are won when people pass the damn ball but okay.”
That gets a few laughs, even from Juju. You nudge her playfully with your elbow, and she nudges you right back, a little smirk tugging at her mouth. It’s stupid, the way your heart does a flip over nothing. But this is what it’s been lately. Quiet touches, subtle glances, inside jokes no one else catches. It’s been easy to pretend no one’s really noticed.
Until—
Kiki pauses in mid-rip, eyes narrowing like something just clicked.
“Y’all always like this now?” she says, nodding between you and Juju with a raised brow.
You blink. “Like... what?”
“Like that,” she says, motioning with her whole hand at the nonexistent space between you two. “Sittin’ on top of each other like you’re fused at the hip.”
Juju leans her head back against the bench, letting out a groan. “God.”
Avery’s already grinning, stretching abandoned. “Ooooh, we saying it out loud now?”
“Don’t start,” you mumble, trying to hide the smile tugging at your face. But it’s there, clear as day and now you’re warm all over for some reason that’s got very little to do with the gym’s busted A/C.
“No, like,” Kiki says, grinning wide, “I’m just trying to understand. Wasn’t it, like, three months ago that Juju couldn’t even look at you without making that face?”
Juju throws a piece of athletic tape at her. “What face?”
“That face you do when you’re trying not to say something rude but it’s right there.”
Avery cackles. “She’d be like, ‘Yo, pass the ball’ but in a way that said ‘I hope you trip and fall after practice.’”
You’re laughing now, trying to cover it with your hand, but failing miserably. “Okay, that’s not true.”
“Oh it’s true,” Avery says, pointing. “You were no better either. Acting like Juju stole your scholarship or something.”
You glance at Juju, who’s got her lips pressed together, obviously fighting a smile.
“Y’all beefed like it was personal,” Kiki adds. “Now? Can’t get through water breaks without you two sharing a bottle and making goo-goo eyes.”
“We do not make goo-goo eyes,” you say, scandalized.
Kiki gives you a look. “Babe.”
Juju chokes on her water. “Did you just call her ‘babe’?” sorry... sir (love island brain rot, ifykyk)
Kiki shrugs. “Figured I’d say it before you did.”
The whole group breaks into laughter again, the kind that makes your stomach ache, that kind that feels like it could live forever if no one acknowledged how good it is.
But under the jokes, under the teasing, something lingers. A beat of awareness. You can feel it on your skin, in the space between you and Juju, suddenly not so invisible, like a bubble just popped.
You shift slightly, just enough to put an inch of space between your thighs. Not because you want to. Just instinct. A reaction to being seen.
Juju notices. Of course she does. Her knee finds yours again, casually. Intentionally. Like she’s saying, Nah. Don’t do that. We’re good.
And just like that, you breathe again.
“Wait, wait,” Avery cuts in, still smiling but with that sharpness in her eyes that always means she’s poking deeper than she lets on. “So what did change? Like, seriously. You went from ‘I might kill you in your sleep’ to ‘I’ll die if you don’t sit next to me on the bus.’”
You glance at Juju. She glances back.
And then she shrugs.
“We figured some shit out,” she says simply.
And no one pushes it. No one pries.
There’s a silence that settles over the group then — not awkward, not uncomfortable. Just... understanding.
Kiki leans back onto her elbows. “Well whatever it is, keep it up. You been playing outta your minds since the new year.”
“Facts,” Avery adds. “The way you two read each other on the court? Like some telepathic freak shit.”
You grin. “Appreciate it.”
“You should,” Kiki says, smirking. “I don’t compliment often. Not without strings attached.”
“What strings?”
“Buy me Crumbl later.”
Juju groans. “You just made fun of us. Now you want cookies?”
“That’s the price of love, Ju.”
You roll your eyes but you’re still smiling. That whole big, quiet kind of smile you didn’t used to have so often. Not before this. Not before her.
You let your head fall lightly against Juju’s shoulder. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move. Just lets it happen.
And in the corner of your vision, you can see Kiki and Avery sharing a look but it’s not mocking. It’s not even teasing, really.
It’s warm. Affectionate. Like they see something soft here, something real.
You let it sit for a while, not saying anything.
And for the first time since this whole thing began since Utah, since your panic, since you started unraveling and Juju caught every thread, you realize something:
This isn’t just your little bubble anymore.
You’re being seen. You’re being known.
And somehow, that doesn’t terrify you like it used to. It just feels... right.
By March, the country knew your name.
They said it like a prophecy. Diana Taurasi's daughter, sharp-eyed sniper with the fastest release in college basketball. The girl who'd clawed her way out of the shadows, who could drill threes off the dribble, off a curl, off balance, off nothing at all. Who had started the season unraveling, brittle and breaking under the weight of expectation only to rise from it.
And they said Juju's name, too. Not like prophecy. Like fact, like foundation. USC's heartbeat. The court general. If you were the spark, JuJu was the oxygen that kept it burning, always in step with you, always knowing exactly where you'd be.
It hadn't always been like that. But since Utah, since the blood and the panic and the towel clenched in your hands like a lifeline, something had shifted between you. Not just in how you moved together on the floor, though that was part of it. You ran the court like you shared a brain now. She'd drive and kick without looking, because she knew you'd be there. You'd call off a screen because she'd already set the angle. Telepathic, like Kiki and the broadcasters kept calling it. Magic.
The media loved it.
They clipped every moment: the shared glances, the low fives, the way Juju tugged your jersey back into place when it got twisted up. They tweeted it with heart eyes and fire emojis, called you the best backcourt in women's college hoops. USC, undefeated in 2025, marched through the bracket with poise and grit, and always, always, with you and Juju leading the charge.
By the time you reached the Elite Eight, the noise was deafening.
UCLA again. A Pac-12 showdown on the national stage. You knew the stakes. Winner goes to the Final Four. And UCLA came out swinging, physical and mouthy and playing like they had something to prove, like they always did.
You felt it from tip-off.
Number 14, one of their wings, started in on you early. Cheap bumps, elbow nudges, grabbing your jersey when the refs weren’t looking. You didn’t react at first. Just did what you always did: moved, cut, got open. Juju found you three times in the first quarter for clean shots. Swish. Swish. Swish.
The crowd roared.
But 14 didn’t back off. In the third quarter, she caught you on a screen, shoulder clipping your nose hard enough to snap your head back.
You stumbled, hands up, blinking tears, and then there was shouting.
Juju.
She was in 14’s face before the whistle even blew. Chest out, jaw clenched, yelling. "You think that’s basketball? That’s what you wanna do?"
The ref stepped in but not before JuJu shoved 14 back, just enough to get called. Tech.
The bench stood. The crowd booed. You stood there dazed, blood in your mouth and heartbeat in your ears, watching Juju get pulled away by Coach. Watching 14 smirk.
But Juju never took her eyes off you.
You stayed in. Played through it. Didn’t say a word until the buzzer sounded and you won by six.
After the game, the press room lights were harsh. Cameras flashing. Questions flying.
They came for Juju first.
"Juju, that technical in the third, was that frustration or... something else?"
She didn’t blink. Just leaned forward, calm. "I protect my teammates. That’s who I am."
The reporters murmured, scribbled. Then another.
"There was no clear provocation on the replay. Can you explain why you escalated it to that level?"
You rolled your eyes, a low "jesus christ" leaving your lips before leaning into the mic.
"She escalated nothing." Your voice sliced through the noise.
Juju turned to you, startled.
"There was context," you sighed, steady. "I took an elbow to the face. Same player had been grabbing and hitting all night. Juju reacted because she saw what the refs didn’t. I was bleeding. You can check the tape. She was protecting me, that’s not a flaw. That’s leadership."
The room went still for a second too long. Then a few reporters nodded, typed.
Juju looked at you with something unspoken in her eyes. Not surprise. Not gratitude. Something warmer. Like trust, wrapped in awe.
You didn’t flinch under the lights. Not this time. After, back in the tunnel, Juju caught your arm. Pulled you just out of view of the cameras. Her hand was warm against your elbow.
"You didn’t have to do that," she said softly.
You looked at her. "Yeah, I did."
She searched your face like she was trying to memorize it.
"I meant what I said," you added. "You're not reckless. You're just real."
Her mouth curved up, barely. "You saying I'm your hero now?"
You smirked. "Maybe, just a little bit."
And then, quieter, after a beat:
"You were mine first."
The words hung there, fragile and glowing, somewhere between a confession and a promise.
Juju didn’t speak. She just stepped closer. Close enough to bump shoulders. Close enough for her knuckles to brush yours.
"Final Four, huh?" she said after a pause.
"Final Four."
"Guess we’ve got more to prove."
You nodded. And in the silence, in the closeness, in the echoes of cameras still flashing somewhere down the hall, there was peace.
The building hums like it’s alive.
Over nineteen thousand people packed into Rocket Mortgage FieldHouse, and it feels like every single one of them is watching you breathe. Final Four. USC vs. South Carolina. The matchup everybody’s been talking about for weeks. Powerhouse against powerhouse. Dawn Staley on the other sideline. Cameras following every twitch of your face, every flick of your wrist, every stumble.
You tell yourself you’re ready. But tonight, it’s not clicking.
The game is ugly; gritty in a way that makes your chest burn. Not the good burn. It’s missed reads, loose rebounds, forced shots, bad rotations. South Carolina plays like a brick wall with fast hands. And you — you're forcing threes too early in the shot clock. You're second-guessing your curls off the screen, you’re watching your passes instead of snapping them.
Still, you stay in it. Mostly because Juju’s in it.
She’s loud on defense, aggressive on the boards, calling switches like she’s been doing this since birth. Her voice cuts through the chaos: “ICE IT! I GOT HIGH!” Every time you trip on your own feet, she’s there, low five, tug at your jersey, a look that steadies you.
It’s only the third quarter when it happens.
A scramble for a loose ball — one of those pinball sequences that makes everything feel like slow motion. You and JuJu both dive. She gets to it first, palms it clean and the moment she starts to rise, a South Carolina forward crashes into her from the blind side. It’s not dirty. Just hard.
You see the whole thing unfold from a few feet away.
Juju’s legs tangle awkwardly beneath her. Her head snaps back. The ball skitters away but you don’t even look to see who recovers it because Juju doesn’t get up.
Not right away.
Your body moves before you even think. You’re sliding across the court on your knees, grabbing her wrist, calling her name. “Ju—hey, hey, Ju, you good?”
She blinks hard, face twisted. One hand gripping her knee. Her mouth’s open but no sounds coming out and that’s how you know it’s bad. Juju doesn’t do silence, not on the court.
The trainers are running toward you, but your body blocks her like instinct. You press a hand to her shoulder, trying not to shake. “Hey, look at me. You’re okay, yeah? You’re good.”
But she’s not good, you can see it all over her.
Her face is pale. Her jaw’s clenched like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. She tries to sit up and winces so sharply it makes you flinch.
The ref’s whistled the play dead. Coach is calling your name from the sideline but you don’t look.
The trainers get there. You don’t move until one of them gently pulls you aside. Juju tries to wave them off, of course she does but even that looks like it takes all the energy she has.
You’re standing now, hovering, your hands twitching at your sides, heart thudding like a drumline in your chest.
She looks up at you when they start examining her knee. “I’m fine,” she lies, and you almost believe her, because you want to.
“Ju…” Your voice breaks without permission.
And that’s what undoes her.
Because her face softens in a way that has nothing to do with pain. “Don’t,” she whispers.
But it’s too late. You feel it in your throat, hot and scraping, that crushing weight behind your ribs. You turn slightly, trying not to show it, pressing your forearm to your face like it might stop everything from leaking out.
She gets helped up. Can’t put weight on the leg. Walks off with the trainers, arms around their shoulders, jaw clenched to hell. You’re still standing there at midcourt like your feet are cemented to the floor. The arena’s loud again, but it’s like someone stuffed cotton in your ears.
They sub you out two minutes later.
You don’t fight it.
You sit on the bench and press the towel against your face like it might hold you together. Coach comes by. So does your manager. Diana’s yelling something from the tunnel. None of it registers. You’re stuck on the image of Juju walking off. The wince. The way she didn’t even pretend to smile at you like she always does.
You feel hollow.
South Carolina keeps scoring. You stop looking at the scoreboard. Doesn’t matter. The last buzzer sounds and they’re storming the court, arms in the air, screaming into the rafters. You stay in your seat. Someone tries to pull you up for the handshake line but you shake your head and stand on your own.
It’s a blur after that.
People moving around you. Cameras shoved in your direction. Your name called a dozen times. Diana’s there, trying to get to you through the press wave but you don't hear her the way you normally would. It's like your brain is underwater. You're not listening. You’re looking for Juju.
You push past security. Your manager grabs your wrist. “You gotta do media.”
“No,” you say, already walking. “I can’t, not now.”
“You’re required for the podium—”
“Then fine me.”
You don’t stop. Don’t even glance at the cameras filming you now. You just want to find her. You need to find her. The panic’s rising again and it’s not like last time, not sharp and loud but slow, creeping, like you’re sinking inch by inch in a lake with no bottom.
You turn a corner in the tunnel, and there she is.
Except this time, she’s not just sore. Not limping with ice and a joke on her lips. She’s lying flat on the trainer’s table, both hands pressed hard against her face like she’s trying to hold it all in — everything. The pain, the fear, the devastation.
The room’s cold, too cold. You swear you feel it in your teeth.
The moment you see her like that, something inside you ruptures.
The world dulls. Your feet are moving, but the hallway stretches longer than it should. The sounds blur, trainers murmuring in low, clinical voices, someone scribbling notes, a bag of ice crinkling loudly in the silence and it doesn’t feel real.
You knew. Somewhere deep, you already knew. But you didn’t want to believe it.
Not her. Not Juju.
You stop just inside the door. She doesn’t see you at first. Or maybe she does but she doesn’t move. Her forearms cover her eyes. Her chest rises, then stutters. Like she’s trying not to cry, trying to keep it together like she always does.
But she’s shaking. And when a sharp breath cracks from her like glass, it slices through you.
You step forward — quiet, slow. “Ju.”
She drops her arms fast like you caught her naked. Her eyes are red, but she’s trying to wipe them with the sleeves of her hoodie, trying to sit up like it’s no big deal.
“I’m fine,” she says, voice scratchy and wrecked. “It’s not... It’s just a sprain. Or hyperextended. I don’t know. They don’t know yet.”
You don’t believe her.
Not just because of the limp you saw. Or how fast she went down on the court. But because JuJu doesn’t lie, except when she’s scared.
And she’s scared.
You shake your head slowly. “Don’t do that.”
She flinches like the words hit too close to bone. Like she knows exactly what you mean. “I can’t—” Her throat closes. She pushes the words out anyway. “I can’t hear it yet. I just... I need a second before I hear it out loud.”
You nod, because you remember. You remember exactly how it feels to know before you know. That waiting room space where everything hurts but you still cling to some broken piece of hope like it’ll save you from the truth.
You step closer. She’s still trying to keep it together, barely. Her jaw’s locked. One hand grips the edge of the table like she might fall off. The trainers start to say something, maybe about swelling or scans or timeline but you shoot them a look and they step back, giving you the space.
You sit beside her on the edge of the table, your thigh against hers. Her knee is already wrapped, elevated. Her sock’s still half-pulled off, her shoe lying on the floor like evidence of the war she just lost.
When you don’t say anything, she finally whispers, “It tore. They didn’t say it yet but I know. I felt it go.”
And just like that, her voice breaks completely.
You can see it happening to her, the panic rising fast, brutal, like a wave swallowing her whole. Her breathing turns shallow. She grabs the edge of the table again, her other hand trembling. “I—I can’t breathe, dude. I can’t—fuck, I can’t—”
“Ju,” you say softly, cupping her face, forcing her to look at you. “Hey. I got you, okay? Just look at me.”
Her eyes find yours and lock. Wide and glassy and raw.
“Breathe with me,” you whisper. “Just like this. In. Out.”
You do it with her. Hold her gaze. Anchor her.
And slowly, god, painfully slow — she starts to follow. Her shoulders shake. She curls toward you like her whole body is folding it but she’s breathing.
You wrap your arms around her, both of them, tight. You pull her head to your shoulder and she doesn’t resist. She just crashes into you.
You hold her while she falls apart.
She cries like she hasn’t cried in years. Quiet but uncontrollable. Her fingers clench in the fabric of your hoodie like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go and all you can do is rock her gently, your own eyes stinging, your chest aching in the same spot it did that night in Utah when everything cracked inside you.
You whisper everything you she had said to you back then.
“It’s not your fault.”
“You didn’t let anyone down.”
“You’re not broken.”
“We’re gonna get through this.”
You don’t say she’ll be back soon. You don’t lie. Because she’d see through it. Juju’s never been the type to need lies. She just needs you.
So you stay.
Long after the trainers leave, long after the hallway quiets, you stay.
And when her breathing finally steadies, when her hands finally unclench, you feel her exhale into your neck and whisper something so small you almost miss it: “I don’t want to do this without you.”
Your chest caves in but not from pain. From how deeply you understand.
You tighten your arms around her. “You’re not going to.”
You stay there on that table with her until the lights flicker low and the noise dies outside the room. When she finally lifts her head, eyes still red but calm now, you see it.
The same thing she saw in you two months ago.
Not the player, not the tough girl with a highlight reel. Just you.
And now it’s your turn to see her.
Not the starter, not the anchor, not the legend-in-the-making.
Just Juju.
And somehow, even in this, especially in this, you’ve never loved her more.
It starts slow.
Not in the dramatic kind of way that feels like fate crashing down on you but in the quiet, steady way that feels like healing.
It’s weeks of alarms going off early and you making Juju smoothies she’ll fake-complain about. It’s her leg in that massive brace and your hand always there to steady her when she moves, even when she says she doesn’t need help.
You take her to PT every morning, even on the days when she wakes up grumpy and doesn’t want to talk. Especially on those days.
And she never says it, not out loud, but you can feel it in the way her hand lingers longer on yours now. In the way her eyes stay soft when you sit across from her during iced coffee runs after rehab. In the way she lets herself lean into you when her painkillers make her sleepy.
You don’t leave her side, not once.
You stayed when the team flew home, you stayed through her surgery, you stayed during the nights when she couldn’t sleep because the dull ache in her knee turned sharp with every shift in her sheets.
“You’ll come back stronger,” you whispered to her once, forehead pressed to her temple, while she blinked away frustrated tears after her first full bend. “Next season, you’ll make all of them regret ever thinking you’d stay down.”
She didn’t answer you right away. Just grabbed your hand and held it like a lifeline.
And now, it’s mid-June.
The sun in L.A. is hot but soft. Late afternoon light spills gold across Juju’s backyard. You’re both sitting in the shade, under the striped umbrella she made her brother wrestle out of storage.
Her brace is off now, replaced by the black wrap she hates but tolerates. She’s sitting back in the chair with her leg stretched out across yours, iced tea sweating in the cupholder beside her.
You’re leaned sideways, head resting on her shoulder, fingers tracing lazy lines across the scar on her knee like it’s part of her story now. Like you’re learning it by touch.
Because you are. The last few months haven’t been easy, but you made a home in the in-between.
You stopped being USC’s firecracker shooting guard. She stopped being the anchor. Somewhere along the way, it became just you. And her. And this.
The light shifts again, and she nudges you gently. You look up.
Juju’s eyes are already on you. Her lips curve into the kind of smile that feels like it’s just for you now.
“Hey,” she says quietly like anything louder might break the moment.
“Hey,” you echo, equally soft.
For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of summer — wind brushing through lemon trees, a neighbor’s distant music playing through cracked windows, the slow creak of wood beneath your feet.
Then:
“I used to hate you,” she says suddenly, almost laughing but not really.
You smirk. “I know.”
“I really did. You were cocky as hell, thought you knew everything, shot like you had something to prove every single second.”
You tilt your chin toward her. “Didn’t I?”
She pauses. Her voice drops just enough to feel like something new. “You didn’t have to.”
The silence this time stretches longer. There’s something behind her eyes, something you’ve seen growing there for months but never dared to name.
Until now.
“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” you say. Your voice doesn’t even shake. “I’m here next season. And after that, wherever you are.”
Her breath catches, just a little.
And then she nods. Almost like she’s been waiting for you to say it. Almost like she believed it already, but needed to hear it out loud to let it settle.
You shift, sitting up a little straighter. Her leg stays draped over yours, but your hands find hers again.
She looks at you like you hung the moon. Like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again and when she leans in, slow and careful and heart-forward, you meet her there.
The kiss is gentle. Not rushed, not burning. It’s the kind of kiss that says: I see you. I know you. I’m not going anywhere.
You stay there like that, lips pressed against hers, until the warmth on your skin fades from sun to something deeper. Something more permanent.
When you pull back, her forehead rests against yours, and she lets out a shaky laugh. “Took us long enough.”
You smile. “We were so dumb.”
“Speak for yourself,” she mutters but she’s grinning now, full and easy.
And you don’t say it out loud, but this? This means more than a trophy ever could.
Because you didn’t win the natty, but you found each other.
And after everything, after Utah, after the blood and the pressure and the fight to survive—you know now:
That’s the win that matters.
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1st sunrise together
(not your last)
Remmick x female reader (one shot)



A/N: alr people…I haven’t written in months…finally tryna start writing again and stop trying to make story perfects and put out what I enjoy writing and not what I think evb else needs or wants from me. On that note thanks for 300+ followers wtf. Also uh this is my first sinners fanfic (def won’t be my last) so bear with me pls. Just a lil short thing for you guys. Once again, sorry if this was mid, took a small ass prompt and extended it sorry. Comments and reblogs are appreciated (I love talking to u guys sm)
Summary: you and Remmick have been around each other for a bit. Getting comfortable in ways you live, love and do things. Your guard is always up but his has begun to go down. What happens if one day you aren’t on a hunt with him cause he makes you stay home and does something different. “You’re just paranoid—that won’t happen.” Is what he tells you all the time. 9 times out of 10, you’re right.
WC: 2.6k
Warning: death, angst, lil cringe, fic moves rlly fast, little terrible world building moments, mentions of blood, mentions of religion (holy water, is that a mention?), mentions death, mentions of gunshots and guns.
It'd already been 3 years since his teeth seeped into your neck.
They drained your body of blood and brought you back to life—just with a few changes and tweaks to the way you were able to live out life now.
The man who bit you, your husband, Remmick. He stayed by your side just as he promised before you allowed him to bite you.
He cared for you just as you asked and needed, and you tried to return the favor whenever possible.
He made sure all your needs and wants were met as soon as he could make it happen.
If you were hungry, he’d make sure you’d get full. If you wanted to be held, he’d carry you. If you wanted to hear music or dance, he’d crack out that banjo and get to playing.
He made sure to keep you as happy and protected as he possibly could.
You two typically had a nightly ritual of going to get bodies to feast on to cure your hunger if you weren’t tending to each other's wounds from the night prior or relaxing after a passionate night.
Whenever you two went out hunting, you had a sort of ritual of burning down the houses once you were done with the bodies. You were a no-evidence kind of girl, he didn’t understand why, and thought he wasted time waiting for the sun to come up—you just couldn’t care and continued to burn whatever house you two raided.
You two had different ways about how you dealt with business. Whatever way you dealt with it, you knew it was always better when it was two of you dealing with it instead of one suffering with the issue alone.
Out of the two of you, one of you almost always got roughed up by the end of the night if a human was fighting back from you trying to bite them.
This night, it was you.
Remmick was pissed, livid actually. You don’t think you’d ever seen him take greater pleasure in killing someone, ever, once he finished killing whoever put a few bullets in you.
“You need to relax…” You said “yer getting worked up over nunin'’ you know I’m gon heal so just breathe and relax.”
You tried your best to calm him down—you hated when he was constantly worked up, especially over things you considered small. He didn’t consider you getting hurt a “small thing” to him; it was a big issue.
You grabbed onto his suspenders, pulling him back into the bed with you.
“It ain’t no small thing…sure you’ll be fine in a week but y’know how much I hate seeing you hurt.” He said, voice sounding all pissed but trying to relax it to not worry you.
he was still on the issue and you didn’t mind it as long as he stopped working himself up over it.
Your forehead pressed against his—you two sharing any warmth you possibly could to each other. His arms began wrapping around your back like a snake, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go.
You winced for a second as he got ready to let go, but you wrapped your arm around him so he wouldn’t try and move away.
“Remmick…stop worryin’.” You gave him a reassuring smile as he kissed your face softly.
“You can’t tell me to stop worryin’.” He said
“And why is that?”
“‘Cause ya do the exact same thing.”
“Hm…well, it’s ok when I do it.”
He just rolled his eyes at you—finding what you had to say was unfair but knew he could argue against it because he’d lose anyway.
You two were always worried back and forth, taking turns on who would be the one panicking for the night. It was mostly you so you had gotten used to it but whenever it was him you wanted him to relax and not press the issue.
Your head still pressed against his as you two took in each other and every feature. Your arms still wrapped around his body, and his still wrapped around yours…
A few moments of silence filled the air before Remmick finally spoke again.
“You gon eat tonight…you ain't touched nothin’ since we last went huntin’.”
He squeezed your hand—getting your full attention as this was his way of telling you he had to go out.
“Well, let me get on up.” You said.
Before you could get off the bed—he leaped up and stood in front of you.
“No darlin’.” He said, “you gon stay here and rest.”
“We don’t really need sleep….besides, I’ll be patched up in a day or two at most.” you said
You began to look him up and down—what he said was silly to you, and you didn’t agree to it at all. You tried to stand again, but this time he put his hands on your shoulder, keeping you down for a second.
“Remmick…”
“Please, jus’ stay here…I’ll be back, promise.” He said softly.
Your eyes and his met as he was giving that same little pleading stare that a puppy would give you when it did something wrong.
You just huffed—you were annoyed you couldn’t go with him, but if he wanted you to rest that badly and promised that he’d come back, you’d just stay put for the night.
“Fine, Remmy.” You said
You pulled him in by his suspenders, giving him a kiss. He quickly returned it as you let go of his suspenders and he leaned in closer pushing you down on the matress a bit more.
You broke the kiss to speak.
“Uh, Remmy, don’t you have food to be getting? You're on a time limit with that sun.” You said teasingly.
He just cleared his throat before pulling himself up.
“Right, yes.” He said, “When I get back though, I want more of whatever that was gon’ be.”
You just chuckled as you watched him leave out of the door into the night.
A few minutes had passed before you stood up to do some house chores—thought you might as well pass the boredom with some work.
You walked around the house as it felt a little lifeless without Remmick there—you knew he’d be back soon as promised, but you were just as impatient as he was.
While you were walking around, your eyes were jumping onto every object, seeing if anything needed cleaning or if it was out of order.
Your eyes finally came to the nightstand, and you saw nothing wrong at first glance till you looked back.
A box of matches, your box of matches was still there…
That same box of matches you used to get rid of any evidence whenever you two went out.
“Shit.” You murmured.
Your mind racing with worry as per usual about him. You told him you’d stay put, but you had a certain way of doing things, and you didn’t want to stray away from the usual.
You just swallowed down whatever worry you had in your throat. He could handle himself, he lived this long without you, he’d be fine.
hours had begun passing—you knew the sun was gonna be up sooner than later.
That worry you swallowed down began climbing right back up your throat. Pacing back and forth around the room like a madman, you had not a clue where he was.
You were ready to leave and try and find him yourself until a loud, frantic bang caused you to get up and dash to the door.
As soon as you opened it, you saw him.
Remmick—beaten up and bruised. A few gunshot wounds, blood all over his face and body, rips to his clothes, and nasty gashes and cuts on his face.
You knelt to where he sat, trying to pull him back up to his feet. You had nothing to say in the moment—your top priority was getting him to safety and patched up.
Remmick stood up with your help as you examined his face. He grabbed your hand tight, stopping you as he needed your full attention.
“We gotta go.” He said, “We gotta go right now, darlin’.”
You just nodded—you got ready to turn back into the house to grab a few things before you heard screaming and gunshots. People were out hunting and searching for you.
“Ain’t no time,” Remmick said as he grabbed you by the back of your dress.
You were dragged out by your back until he released it—you two dashed through the woods.
It was pretty rare for you two to be haunted when you were usually the ones doing the hunting. Sadly for you two, it was more of them and not enough time to fight back. You just needed to run and find shelter.
“Remmick, why ain’t you bring them damn matches.” You murmured but he heard every word.
“Thought I wasn’t gon need em, clearly it was a full house. I’m sorry, let’s just get out of this then you can yell at me later.” He said
His hand grabbed onto yours tightly, running through the woods with you, trying to find any safety. If you two weren’t on the brink of getting murdered—you’d consider it romantic.
Gunshots flying into trees as bullets miss you two. Water splashing as whoever was chasing you tried to fling holy water on you. You two just gave each other that soft-eyed look before you kept running.
He wanted to keep you safe—he promised to keep you safe.
Now he was falling short on his promises.
You didn’t care—as long as you were with him,, you considered yourself safe. You just kept running until you bumped into him and realized he came to a stop.
“What’s wrong?” You shouted.
You just looked up and saw the moon was going down. Sun was just coming up quicker and quicker.
“Remmick, we can find some place to go, cmon.” You said, “We just gotta go, cmon.”
He quickly pulled you to the side—you two now under a tree, trying to think of anything to get yourself out of the situation. You could deny it all you wanted, but there was nothing more that could be done in that moment.
“I didn’t take them matches—didn't do things the at we usually do it. Now I messed it up.” Remmick spoke in a wimpy sort of tone.
“Remmick, I’m not about to scold you for this.” You said, “atleast not right now. So relax we gotta get out of this ok?”
He was used to you scolding him for the small things, and any other time you would’ve, but now it was life or death. If it just so happened to be death, you weren’t about to spend your final moments scolding him. You just pressed your head against his hoping that time would freeze for you just for a second and it felt like it did.
You started to cry—he wanted to cry. He had broken his promise, he said he’d always keep you safe, always make sure you were protected.
The sun wasn’t slowing down for anyone, it was gonna come up eventually. The hunters drew closer, and little tears became flowing pools of water.
“I broke my promise—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He murmured.
He tried his best to calm you down while he was panicking himself. He began holding you tighter, but the sun began to shine through the leaves on the tree. You two didn’t have much longer. You were either gonna die by the sunlight burning you to ash, or die by the hands of hunters that weren’t finished off.
“Remmick.” You said in a stuffy tone
You swallowed down your tears as best as you could for a second to talk.
“I know you said you keep me safe, and you think you broke the promise.” You said, “If you wanna make it up to me, just keep one promise you made.”
You two began curling into each other tightly as he held onto you as best as he could. His skin took the majority of the burns from the sunlight as he tried his absolute best to protect you from the heat that was coming.
“And which one is that?” He asked
“Staying with me.” You said, “and I want you to stay with me…and watch the sun rise.”
His head lifted up,, and so did yours. His eyes were weak and questioning what you just said. He couldn’t believe this is what you were saying but he knew you two didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“Cmon.” He said
He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the woods into the open sunlight. You two were met by a river—memories filling your mind of all the times you two went there at night. Your life with him was flashing before your eyes.
The hunters were here, and so was the sun. You drowned out their screams to catch you guys—you were so focused on him and the burning pain that flowed through your body that you couldn’t give two shits.
His hand stayed clasped onto yours—you two burning up quicker than you were before. Smoke coming from your body as if you were food being cooked and prepared.
You two finally reached the lake. Feet soaking in there as if the water was gonna save you but you knew it was over—your forehead just pressed his as you began to cry weakly, and he just held onto you tighter and tighter.
Memories flowing through your mind of the life you had with him.
That first time you met, the time he turned you every promise he made, every kiss you shared, every passionate night you two enjoyed, every meal shared, every life taken.
It all rushed through you faster than ever before.
You never expected it to be so short, you wanted it to be longer. Remmick spoiled you rotten—because you’d forgotten you can’t just get everything you wanted.
Tears and screams of agony still left your face as he held onto you tight—he held you tightly in that same warm embrace he always did. He tried to calm you down as best as he could, giving you comfort in whatever way he could in the moment. It only helped so much.
Both of you sizzling and burning alive by the second, smelling like rotting meat and flesh, getting ready to be thrown out. Your flesh melting to his at this point, you two were becoming one, except this time, it was physically.
Remmick kissed you softly on the forehead before speaking.
“I’ll meet you again—next life, we’ll try again. I’ll keep you as safe as I can, and I'll love you jus’ like I did in this life. Promise.”
You just looked at him, and the ash began to surround both of you. You were silent—taking in your final breaths as you knew your time on earth was over.
Hunters could’ve came in that water at any time and put a stake in your backs—they just stayed in the woods, watching what they caused all go down and finish.
You ignored them, eyes just stuck on Remmick and how his body was melting away right before you. Memories of how you would patch him up whenever he was like this flowing through your mind as you were silent.
You just felt weak, you couldn’t save him, and this time he couldn’t save you.
“You gotta respond, give me something,” he said, “Don’t let these last few seconds be silent. Speak to me, say whatever’s on your mind..”
He gave those same pleading eyes that he would always give to you when you were mad or he wanted you to reason with him.
His crumbling hand reaching towards you face to wipe off the tears as best as he could before you spoke again.
“I’m scared.” You said
“Me too.” He replied
For one second it was dead silent before you picked back up the conversation speaking again.
“Promise I’ll be patient, but you keep your word, Remmick.”
“I will,” he said, “I promise I will, darlin’.”
Foreheads pressed together one final time. He gave you a smile and you returned one until your lips met–whatever was left of them, at least. He began humming a soft tune painfully. He tried to hide any sadness he had in the moment from you, and you respected it.
He just hummed soft melodies that he would play or sing for you whenever you were home with him to comfort both of you as you were ready to leave this body.
You got to see a sunrise with him–and what made it even better was the fact you’d get to see more with him in the future.
The ash of both your bodies wisped away in the wind, but not a single spec of dust separated.
You’d be reunited soon.
You'd just have to be patient, like he asked.
Just like you promised.
#shroomyvfics#remmick x reader#remmick sinners#remmick#sinners fanfiction#sinners x reader#shroomyvpost#uh one tiny prompt became this#hope yall like it I haven’t written in months#crappy first divider is made by me#I rlly hope yall like this sorry#sorry if this is bad#one last sorry#little rusty on my writing
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──★ ˙ ̟ 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - jjk (m)



𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rockstar-vocalist!jk x groupie!reader (afab/she/her) 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: rockstar au 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 18+, smut, porn-with-little-plot 𝐰𝐜: 4.1k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: omg here we go... bigdick!jk, bigsize!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, she isnt bratty but she pushes the right buttons, strong language ie swearing, use of nicknames (princess, babydoll, baby, slut, good girl), now for the gewwwd stuffs ;; kissing, making out, nipple sucking, spit kink, size kink, light petting, reader goes into sub space, choking/asphyxiation, jk has not 1 .... nOT TEW not T H R E E ;; but ✨ fOuR ✨ dick piercings jahsgdfjshdh!!! (1 prince albert n 3 foreskin piercings) — n for the sake of this story he isnt circumcised since plenty of ppl on this app like to make things like that a big deal… if u do; theres the block button ok thank u bye. —the use of piercings for sexual pleasure, multiple orgasms, jk comes inside, unprotected sex, standing sex, dirty talk, fingering (oc receiving), oral (oc receiving), face ridddding, she uses his nose to stimulate.
Backstage of the venue is cold, a juxtaposition to the warmth of the crowd you had been swarmed in moments ago. Now, your body ignites in flames as Jeongguk drags you through the commotion of people; his palm wrapped around your wrist tight. From sound engineers, lighting operators, bodyguards and technicians of all kinds, Jeongguk manages to skillfully weave you both successfully to the end of what felt like a never ending corridor before opening the last door on the left and pulling you inside.
You’re not given enough time to make aware of your surroundings before Jeongguk shakes off his leather jacket and pulls his vintage 1991 Skid Row band shirt over his head in that sexy manner men do — arms crossed, gripping the hem and effortlessly off his body. Removing the shirt messes around with his already sweat soaked mid length bob that he has been growing out. But yet, as the strands fall in disarray over his face, it still manages to make him effortlessly fuckable.
You can’t ignore either his body and the way it bulges in the correct places and curves and dips in the rest. It might have been only six months since you had seen Jeongguk last, but in those six months, he has filled in his body finely — both physically and visually.
Tattoos litter his right arm in pretty shapes, swirls, designs and lettering. Beautiful colours striking against emboldened blacks and whites. He sports two barbells on either side of his chest and you bite your lip as images from the last hook up fills your mind from when you had the opportunity to enjoy them in person.
Jeongguk isn’t oblivious to you taking him in; top to bottom, head to toe, and finally he does something about it. Your back is pushed up against the door and the sound of the lock latching behind you. Jeongguk’s mouth is on yours in an instant, his pillowy lips slightly chapped from the singer being on stage for the last hour and a half but that doesn’t stop you from melting into him.
Your arms wrap around his neck, giving you ample opportunity to deepen the kiss. The metal of the metal hugging is lip is cool against your warm skin. Your tongue runs along the seam of his bottom lip and he grants you access to tangle your tongue with his. The after taste of cheap beer and spearmint gum is welcomed as the pair of you turn the kiss from passionately soft to fierce, a sense of urgency creeping into the mix as you’re both aware that you both need to get off before someone comes searching for Jungkook for his encore set.
“Couldn’t help but notice you starin’ at me through the set,” Jeongguk smirks sexily, knowing he has you exactly where he wants you. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
His hands roam all over your body as he kisses you hard. He starts at your shoulders, swiftly pulling down the thin straps of your tank top past the cups of your white lace bra before tugging the cups and feels as your tits release from the lace.
“M’sure plenty of girls were,” you’re quick to reply, voice airy with lust.
Jeongguk breaks the kiss, saliva keeping your mouth connected before he snaps it with his deft fingers and then using them to run light, teasing circles over your hardened nipples.
“Maybe, but none that I actually want. Thought you were so fucking pretty…”
You shiver and you know it’s not from the temperature of the chilly room you’re both currently occupying.
Before you’re about to remind Jeongguk about the lack of time you both have, the dull hum of intermission music vibrates the tiny closet and his lips are on your throat and all words die on your tongue as you hiss out in pleasure.
“Sensitive, yeah?” He asks, his breath warm against your skin as he decorates your skin in tiny nips and sucks.
“Oh…yes,” you confirm, your lids fluttering shut as he continues his assault on your neck.
With shaking hands, your arms trail down to the belt loops of his leather pants and you hook your fingers through and use it to your advantage to tug him closer to you. The feeling of Jeongguk grinning against your skin at your obvious desperation for him urges him on. With ease, he slots his thigh in between your legs and uses his stance as an advantage to pry your legs further apart.
Working your own fingers on the heavy buckle of his belt as Jeongguk continues his teasing on your cunt, you manage to pull the leather in between your fingers to open him up. Jeongguk tilts your chin with his palm to continue his assault on your neck and you retaliate by slipping your hand underneath his pants. Your fingers come in contact with his hardened cock and Jeongguk bucks his hips further into your touch.
Your heart thrums against your ribs when you feel his fingers inch their way below the hem of your pleated skirt to press into the warm of your cunt.
“Warm and wet,” he whispers against the shell of your ear; his voice is enough to cause the small hairs on your arms to rise. You don’t stop the whine that falls from your tongue as he presses two digits harder against your pulsing clit. “And so fucking sensitive, just for me, pretty girl.”
You get lost in the sensation of him starting to rub you over the flimsy cloth at your cunt.
All your inhibitions are lost as your want for the vocalist grows. “Jeongguk, please,” you beg for more…beg for him.
“Fuck, yes, plead for me,” Jeongguk almost starts begging with you. “Plead for me just like you did in your videos you dirty girl. You’re so bad, huh? Sending videos of your creamy pussy whilst I’m rehearsing. Tell me, did you satisfy yourself? Or am I just too good at pleasing you?”
“No, Jeongguk, I-nothing c-could ever compare to you at all. I was only mmm-missing you, ahhh,” your voice trails off when you feel his thumb and pointer finger pinch at your clit, lightly twists.” Your body grows hot and electrified, sweat building a glistening sheen on your body at the tirade your body is going through.
It only lasts for the briefest of moments before Jeongguk stops playing with you and instead pulls your thong to the side and tucks it in between the juncture of your groin and thigh before running his fingers between your now exposed folds, feeling how soaked you are and slides a thick finger into your soft core.
“Fuuuuck, you’re treatin’ me fucking good tonight, doll,” his voice rasps and you watch as he sinks to his knees in front of you. With ease, Jeongguk props your leg over his shoulder and buries his head in between your legs and his tongue is quick to drag through your pussy.
“Jeongguk, fuck, ohmygod,” the cry is muffled as he brings a big hand up to your lips and covers your mouth. Your eyes can’t help but roll back as your cunt flutters over the thick, long fingers that help place stars behind your closed eyes.
“M’gonna need you to be quiet, babydoll. I’ve still got more to give you... going to push a couple more fingers in ‘till I’m satisfied, okay?
Jeongguk makes quick work of his tongue on your cunt. A litany of fast strokes, skilled pumps of his tongue in your messy leaky hole and now with the added addition of two more fingers, now counting three. You feel full of him as he preps you for what you hope is yet to come. It’s almost second nature for him to know when to curl his digits inside of you, a skill you’re more than aware has come from the copious amount of women he’s had in his bed. But for tonight, he’s here with you and that’s what’s important. You moan when he gets knuckle deep and causes your breathing to become erratic as both your hands tangle into the messy roots of his shaggy locks.
It’s frightening how fast your orgasm approaches you. It’s almost like he's known your body for years, and in some way, he does. Whenever his band finds their way to your town, the tirade of sexting continues from where it left off from his last visit.
“Yes babydoll, just like that, use me.”
He fucks his fingers into you and his tongue flicks your clit, drinking down your honeyed slickness. You don’t stop your hips from chasing your high, letting your pussy grind further into his face, nudging at his nose and then stopping to fuck yourself on his pretty button feature.
Out of the corner of your eye, you find a mirror tucked away in the corner. With the closest bathed in darkness, you’re unable to see clearly in the mirror, but it’s clear enough that you can make out the both of you — your hips fucking Jeongguk, using your hands to guide him into delicious positions for your tongue.
Lost in your thoughts, you don’t realise Jeongguk has removed a hand from your ass, his black chipped nail polished fingernails rakes down the skin of your thigh, hard enough to leave a sting of pleasurable pain as he continues down to the knee over his shoulder.
With shaking legs, your climax reaches its tipping point and you feel yourself come at an impressive force. Your body curls over in euphoria, fingers tightening its hold in his hair as a litter of curses fill the space between you both. Your head rolls back and your eyes tighten as nothing but black and speckles of white fuzzy stars to appear behind your eyes.
Jeongguk stands up, face wet from your cum coating his pretty features and he can’t help but swipe his tongue over his chin, making a scene of tasting the remnants of your arousal that he gave you.
“Aw, did my fingers fuck you dumb, hmm babydoll? Tell me how good it makes you feel,” Jeongguk demands from you as he practically laughs at your disorientation.
It isn’t fair, you’re still trying to come down from such a powerful climax that the best you can offer him is a string of useless babbled broken words.
His laughter continues and embarrassment settles in your chest. Nobody has ever made you come like that with their fingers alone and you’re both well aware of that fact.
“You look so fucking pathetic and pretty for me, pussy stretched over my bare fingers, making the sweetest sounds. Fuck, I should record you and put you on my next record and release it for the world to hear; you’d be my next breaking hit.” Jeongguk admits and lands a slap against your asscheek, the bite of his skin against yours causing you to hiss.
Eventually, you’re able to prop yourself up on your elbows on top of a stack of black equipment boxes that are kept behind the stages and cock your eyebrow up at him.
“Jeongguk, is that the best you’ve got?” You smirk, knowing you’re pouring gasoline all over an already raging fire.
Jeongguk walks towards you and traps you in between his body and the boxes you're using as a support beam. He lifts his hand in the air and the next thing you know, a dim light flicks to life and lights the closest in a warm yellow glow.
You’re able to take in the sight of the man in front of you for the first time since entering together. His once precise eyeliner and eyeshadow is smudged down his cheeks but in a way that makes him look fucking delicious. His chest is heaving with every shallow breath he takes and you’re awestruck at the beauty of him.
“Tell me what you want.” His eyes are darkened with unbridled lust as he wraps his tattooed hand around your throat and squeezes at the sides, watching your eyes roll back. Jeongguk truly does know your body like a well versed chorus and it makes your body thrum with want. “Good girls use their words.”
“I want you to fuck me.”
He towers over you easily as he stares down at you. His thumb glides over your lower lip and you open your mouth at his silent request. A train of spit is released from his mouth as he watches it slowly pool at the back of your mouth. Jeongguk follows his fluid and presses his lips to yours in a languid kiss, his tongue instantly twisting with yours nastily. You’re still able to taste your cum on his tongue and your pussy throbs for more of him.
It’s effortless how he breaks your lewd kiss and is able to manhandle your body, twisting you around so your back is facing him and he kicks apart your feet like he had done earlier.
“How badly do you want me to fuck you?"
You back your ass into the crotch of his leather pants as you feel him rustling behind you to remove his clothing just enough to release his cock. You move your hips against him, feeling his cock in between your asscheeks as you move to sensual rhythm. “So fucking badly. Remind me what your cock feels like.”
He grabs at your arm and pulls it towards his covered cock. You take the hint and wrap your hand around his twitching length, giving him a teasing squeeze when you feel it. You’re back at standing straight and you turn back around to face Jeongguk, peeking down towards cock.
“What is that?”
“This?” he pulls his boxers down by the hem just enough to reveal the blue jewel piercing. “I’m so glad you asked. I did this for you.”
“You got your dick pierced for me?”
He laughs. “No baby,” this time he pulls his black Calvin Kleins to his mid thighs and reveals one by one a new piercing decorated with a different colour gemstone until he reaches his tip, decorated with a prince Albert with pink gemstones on either side of the bar. “I got my dick pierced four times for you. Each one a favourite colour of yours so when I fuck you, you can watch as the colours disappear inside of you.”
Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the thought of how they’re going to feel as he fucks into you and you moan pathetically. You can’t look away from them. The pink prince Albert sits prettily at the top of his cock as a puddle of pearlescent precum allows the pink to look vibrant. Following that are three foreskin piercings, again all different coloured stones locking the metal bars in place. There is a purple set first, a green set in the middle and then your favourite colour at the end, nearing the base of his cock — blue.
He is so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear. “Now, let me use these how they were intended to be fucking used — to feel you wrapping yourself around my cock like an obident slut.” He presses a kiss against your shoulder and manhandles you back in place. “Bend over and spread yourself open,” he growls.
Doing as you’re told, your tits press into the cold metal boxes as you bend yourself to his liking before reaching behind you and spreading your ass open for Jeongguk, displaying your pussy, showing how wet and ready you are for him.
He uses this as an opportunity to bend down to your cunt and spits directly at your hole, watching as you clench around nothing in anticipation for his cock. You looked behind you to see him grab at his cock, lining himself up to your quivering cunt.
“Before I fuck you, there’s one rule you follow,” he groans.
“W-what?” You ask, your breathing all over the place as you wait somehow impatiently for the one thing you have waited six months for.
Jeongguk prods his tip at your entrance and watches as his cum coats your entrance, but never quite pushes himself in yet. “Every inch I fill you with, I want you to count every piercing you feel on my cock—”
“Fuck, Jeongguk!”
“There’s four in total, princess. Once you’ve counted the forth one, then you’ll know you’ve taken all eight inches of me. If you fail to count, I’ll pull out and he can start again until you get it right. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.
Jeongguk places a hand at your hip and lines his cock up to you one more time. Slowly, he eases into you and your head falls forward against the boxes. The feeling of his prince albert piercing intruding your small hole causes goosebumps to rise and your breath to falter.
“Count. I’m not going to tell you again.”
With a shaky voice, you obey. “One.”
He stops for a moment, catching his own breath as the reality of the situation catches up with him as he takes in the fact he is back burying himself in his favourite pussy. Definitely one of the greatest parts of him touring the world is your cunt.
Jeongguk manages to compose himself and ease himself further into you, watching as he’s coming up to the first piercing on his foreskin. Just like the first one, he nuzzles the piercing over your clit and moves his hips in a way where it rubs over your clit. Your fist clenches as you feel him tease you and just as you’re about to urge him to go faster, he finally sinks the second bar into your snug core.
“T-two.”
This time, Jeongguk doesn’t waste any time and continues to sheath himself, feeling you wrapping around him. He can’t see you but he knows by how boneless your body has gone that you’re experiencing a whole new high. Better than any drug could give. He reaches piercing three, the green gem glinting from the small lightbulb above before disappearing fully.
He’s only three piercings in and you feel full already, unsure of how there can be any more of him for you to take. His cockhead already feels as if it’s touching your cervix. You know already that by the time the last cock piercing is in you that your tummy will be bulging from his size.
“Shit, there’s just one more. You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk purrs his affirmation and you perk up at his approval. “Wan’ you to touch yourself.”
You’re too blissfully fucked out already to be bratty, your mind too far in subspace. Your hand wanders in between your legs, towards your cunt. Pressing two fingers to your clit, you begin to rub in a near perfect circular motion.
“Please, Jeongguk, wanna be your g-good girl,” you hiccup.
Jeongguk uses your distraction as his opportunity to sink the last remaining piercing into your poor pussy, feeling you release more of your honey onto him, helping ease him into you just the way he likes.
Not even your favourite dildo can replicate the feeling that this is giving you right now. You have never felt pleasure like this nor do you think you ever will again until the next time you see him.
“F-four…”
He bends down over you to give you a moment to recuperate. His chest is against your back and he presses a kiss to the back of your head.
“Gukkie, move.”
With both of his hands now situated at either side of your hips, Jeongguk pulls out of you and you're forced to feel the jewellery leaving your cunt before he drills back into you, the metal piercings acting as ridges against your soft walls.
Wails and whimpers fall from your lips like a sinful prayer and right now Jeongguk truly did wish this was something he could record. Not for a record as he previously mentioned but for himself.
“More,” Jeongguk moans at your pleas and thrusts forward roughly.
Your heart beats in overtime to keep up with the excretion that your body is going through, sweat clinging to your skin and eyes rolling backwards as he begins a pace that has you seeing stars. His cock rubs so deliciously at your g-spot, every inch he pulls out of you is covered in a bubbly white consistency of your mixed cum.
“Wish you could see what I see, babydoll. Your cunt is such a perfect fit for my big cock.” He punctuates his words with a slap to your ass as he continues to fuck himself in and out of you at a ruthless pace.
You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Jeongguk, and you don’t regret the image. His head is thrown back as he uses one hand to run through the strands of sweat slicked strands from his forehead as they merge together with the hair at the crown of his head. His face has darkened and his eyes are screwed tight in pleasure. You clench your cunt around him, enticing a sinful beautiful moan from him.
“I can take it, Jeongguk! Have always been able to look after you!” Your words aren’t lost on Jeongguk as he chases his high, taking you along for the ride too.
“Jeongguk, please, ohmy—, I’m gonna cum for you,” the words spill from your lips in a high pitched cry as your fingers work once more to rub yourself further to your hight. That’s all Jeongguk needs to hear. He places a hand on the centre of your stomach and the next thing he knows, he’s spilling his own seed into your spent cunt. Ropes of white fill you up and he feels as your stomach bloats just ever so slightly at the load he’s disposed of inside of you.
It doesn’t take you long to feel the frantic burning sensation inside of you snap at the feeling of Jeongguk’s cum filling you up completely before you’re now coming around his cock that is still snuggly stuffed inside of you to the hilt. Your body shakes and your legs are on the verge of giving out at the power of your orgasm that you quickly throw a hand around Jeongguk’s neck to pull at the strands to keep yourself upright.
Time passes as you stand there together, basking in the afterglow of rough sex that has definitely now made him late to the stage for his encore set. It doesn't look like Jeongguk is in any rush to go anywhere though as he whispers quiet little ‘shushes’ in your ear, knowing that you enjoy the little sounds of endearments he feeds you as you come out of your sub space.
Pressed against his soft, warm chest, you're able to hear the beating of his heart under his skin and your mind silently counts in time with every beat. He still has his arm around your waist as both of you still pant from your recent orgasms.
“You should go, Jeongguk, you have a show to finish,” you whisper, knowing he should leave you to finish what he started but you still don’t untangle yourself from his arms.
“I know. But I don’t want this to be the end. Once I get on that stage and finish my set, I’ll be dragged back into a van and taken to the next place when all I want is to be here with you.”
Warmth blossoms over your body at the admission and you can’t help but want more of him too. However, when you both started this, you knew of the implications and the risks.
Jeongguk eventually sits you down and reaches for his discarded band tee and dresses you in it, knowing you’ll keep it until the next time you see each other again. He dresses himself back up, pulling his pants up and redoing the buttons. He picks up the leather jacket and hands it to you with a kiss on top of your forehead.
His lips linger longer than any previous kiss like this he’s given you.
“Jeongguk, please go and finish your set.”
“I’ll see you next time, yeah?” And you nod your confirmation. You’ll always see him again.
He eventually pulls away from you and clicks open the door, slipping out and leaving you in the closest on your own.
“Jeongguk, where the fuck have you been? You’ve kept us waiting!” The voices dissipate the further they walk away. In your hazy, lust clouded mind you decipher that the voices to be his managerial staff or his fellow band members.
You sit by yourself in the small space which now feels too big with just yourself inside. The dull sound of drums and an electric guitar vibrates through the backstage area and you sit in your own company and listen to what you can of the music.
“Until next time.”
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hii love! i just read your clingy so u distance yourself fic for the bazillion time and i cried again no surprise🥹 I just wanted to say i love your works so much and would live to request for an angst oneshot with brother bsf chan? basically reader has been pining for chan for a few years but she never got the courage to tell chan cause she thinks she isn’t good enough for chan. Then afterwards basically chan got a girlfriend who hated her and basically influenced chan to stop hanging out with her which he listened to and told the reader which the reader told him that his girlfriend wasn’t loyal but he thought she was sabotaging his relationship and so they ended off on bad terms but turns out a few weeks later he caught his girlfriend cheating and went back to the reader? sorry if it is kinda long but i rlly need a oneshot like this to read when i just need some angst i really live and admire your works so id be elated if you did my request. thank you and lots of love❤️
my first piece since I went on a mini little baby hiatus. and i had a lot of joy writing this. so i hope you enjoy <3!!!
Brothers Bsf Chan x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)
6.8k words
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You didn’t know when it started. Was it a simple touch? A brush of a hand or an accidental graze of fingers? Or was it one of those lazy Friday nights where Chan would crack jokes to you and his best friend- your older brother Jisung- while you three were watching movies in the house you grew up in. Or did it stem back all the way to those days where you would chase after Chan and Jisung on the playground, down your neighborhood streets- crying out for them to wait for you. Those cries stopped when Chan would reach his hand out to bring you along.
Maybe it was a combination of all of those things, those things you had tried so hard to forget because it could only lead to heartbreak. Falling in love with your brother’s best friend was no easy feat for anyone. Let alone when you were falling for someone like Chan, who was so hard to fall out of love with. Maybe even more so for you since he would always be in your life. Him and Jisung were nearly joined at the hip, which made it even harder to hide your pining for him. You wouldn’t dare love out loud, but it was starting to whisper through the cracks of your resolve.
You were unconditionally in love with everything about Chan.
That's how it was for years, and how you intended it to be for as long as allowed. You spent countless nights staring at your ceiling, wondering if he could ever see you the way that you saw him. You were sure things were only platonic between the two of you, but you couldn’t help but linger on the memories of certain looks, certain gestures that you couldn’t delude yourself into believing happened between friends.
Things started to change when Chan began dating someone new.
Duri. Her name was Duri, and the first time you met her, you knew she was the type to turn heads. She had a smile that could light up a room and a confidence you could only dream of. Standing next to her, you felt small, like a background character in Chan’s life story. A girl who captured Chan’s attention so easily. A girl who wrapped him up in her life so easily that you knew you were to be forgotten. He was smitten and her words flowed like the river of the smoothest molasses. She could easily convince Chan, he didn’t need you. Because she didn’t like you.
You weren’t sure why, but it was obvious. And because she didn’t like you, her feelings towards Jisung weren’t all that different, it seemed. And slowly you felt like Chan was making his way out of your life.
“Ji, why isn’t Chris here?” You loved the way his name sounded when you said it. Not many people around you called him Chris, so it felt special to call him that. He seemed to enjoy it as well, not ever asking you to conform to societal norms.
“He’s probably just busy, Y/N-ie…I’m sure he’ll come back around.” Jisung said one day as you guys sat on the couch, scrolling through movies. It was the first Friday movie Chan had missed. And even if it was the first time he had missed it, you knew it would be a regular occurrence.
In all honesty, at first, you tried to like Duri. She was with Chan, after all, and you thought that maybe you could be friends. That maybe if you could convince yourself to like her then the pain of not being the one that Chan loved would ease.. But the more you saw her, the more you felt her sharp, indirect glances, the way she dismissed you with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She made you feel invisible, as if you were only tolerated because you were Jisung’s sister. Even if she just barely tolerated the latter.
Over time, you saw the changes in Chan too. He became distant, no longer the easygoing guy who’d spend hours with you and your brother. He was still polite, still kind, but he was pulling away, bit by bit. You told yourself it was just a phase, that he’d come around once things settled down with Duri.
But then, one night, things came to a head.
You, Jisung, and Chan had made plans to meet at your favorite café—just a casual hangout, like old times. But when Chan showed up with his girlfriend by his side, something was off. His smile was forced, his laughs hollow. He barely met your eyes, and when you spoke, and even then it was like he wasn’t really listening. To the point that Jisung even pointed it out. Every time you spoke, Duri happened to speak at the same time. Every time a question was directed at you, Duri somehow changed the conversation. You felt small and insignificant and made your way home early. You couldn’t stand to sit there and see the man you were so down bad for with his significant other. Duri had sat close to him, her hand always somewhere on his arm or shoulder, marking her territory in the subtlest way, in a way that caused an anger that wasn’t so subtle.
But even then after leaving you couldn’t shake the ache in your chest. You sat down on a bench outside of a convenience store by your home, trying to sort out your feelings.
You okay? I’ll be heading home soon. We went out to drink.
You quickly type out a reply to Jisung, your fingers shaking as you realized just how cold it was. Just as you were about to get up to leave a pale hand reached out to you with a warm drink.
You looked up to see a guy with dark and prominent eyebrows, and a little birthmark on his nose.
“You seemed cold. Its…” He looked at the can. “Mocha flavored.” He handed it back out to you and smiled softly.
“Thank you.” You said with a small bow of your head, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture.
“You live in the neighborhood right? Your brother…looks like a squirrel?” The man’s voice was soft and shy, like he thought he was talking too much.
“Oh! You’re our new neighbor? I’m Han Y/N.” You said with a flourished bow.
“Park Sunghoon. Nice to meet you…” He shuffled awkwardly. “Would you like me to wait before I walk home…I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”
“No! No! It’s fine, I'm not uncomfortable. You can walk home with me.” You say quietly. “Maybe it’ll be nice to not feel lonely.”
As you made your way back home with Sunghoon you had a weird feeling in your chest. You thought maybe you were just trying to sort your feelings, but it was more of an intuitive sense.
Then you got a text from your brother.
I’m coming home. Duri tried to make a move on me and I’m not trying to get into it with Chan while she is here.
You blinked at the text, nodding when your voice registered Sunghoon asking if you were okay.
That was that odd feeling…
You didn’t know if it was selfish to feel happy that Duri was a tool, but you did. You didn’t want Chan to get hurt so you decided to go talk to him. Giving a message on behalf of Jisung, who thought maybe Chan would listen better if it was coming from a girl
“Hey, can I talk to you?” you asked, your voice soft but determined, as you walked up to him outside of his job a few days later.
“Yeah, of course,” he replied, looking a bit surprised. He followed you to a quieter part of the park, away from prying eyes. “Is everything okay? Jisung hasn’t texted me in a couple of days…"
You took a breath, feeling the words tangle on the tip of your tongue. “Chris…I just…I feel like you’re not around as much anymore. I get that you’re with Duri, but…it’s like you’re pulling away from me and Jisung. My brother is too scared to say anything, but he feels just as bad, if not worse than I do.”
He frowned, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry if it feels that way,” he said finally, but not much emotion in his voice. “But…I need to be there for Duri. She’s… she doesn’t feel comfortable with me hanging out so much with, you know…” He trailed off, not meeting your eyes.
Your heart sank, a cold dread washing over you. “With me, you mean?”
He hesitated, but the silence was all the confirmation you needed. “She…doesn’t get why I’m so close with you. And I don’t want her to feel insecure, so I…I think it’s best if we… keep some distance. Just for now.”
You stared at him, feeling a surge of hurt and anger. “Chris, she’s manipulating you!” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “She’s making you feel guilty for caring about people who were here long before she was. Because she knows those people will pinpoint, that she’s a manipulative cheater!”
He looked at you, a flash of anger in his eyes at the words. “You don’t know her like I do,” he snapped.
You flinched at the venom in his voice. He had never snapped at you and you could feel tears spring to your eyes.
“She tried to make a move on Ji…” You said quietly. “And don’t try and say my brother is a liar, Chris, because you know he’s not.”
Chan gave a sarcastic chuckle. “She already told me that Y/N. She was drunk. It was nothing more than that.”
“Drunk actions are sober thought Chris!” You shot back.
“Oh, so the first time you ever got drunk and confessed your feelings for me was a sober thought?”
You felt your body freeze and you blinked at Chan with wide eyes. You blacked out the first time you had ever drank and didn’t touch anything since. You never knew you had admitted to liking Chan.
“So it’s true then? You actually love me?” Chan let out a large sigh. “Frankly, it’s not fair for you to accuse her of things that aren’t true just because you put me on a pedestal. Your feelings for me aren’t my responsibility Y/N. This…this just feels like you’re trying to come between us because of some childish jealousy. She’s my girlfriend, and I trust her more than I trust someone who hasn’t been honest to me for years.”
You felt like you’d been slapped. The words cut deeper than anything you’d expected, leaving you struggling for air. “That’s not…that’s not what I’m doing, Chan. I just…I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You tried to say back. “My feelings have nothing to do with this I’m coming to you as a friend-”
“Friends don’t feel that way about each other Y/N! Once you cross that line friendship can’t be used as a label. Do you ever think that Duri might be acting this way because you absolutely suck at hiding your feelings?!” His voice was sharper than ever and you could feel a sad squeeze in your heart. “So deal with the fact that I’m going to put my girlfriend first- regardless of what I feel for you.” There was the slightest hesitation and falter in his face at his last words, but you were too upset to decipher what exactly that meant. “ I’m done with this conversation. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He said in a soft yet defeated voice, leaving you standing there, heartbroken and speechless.
The next few weeks were met with silence. Jisung asked what had happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. You kept your pain buried, letting it fester in the corners of your mind. Chan had felt terrible for yelling at you, and had come over to apologize with extra snacks for your guys Friday night movie, but to his surprise, it was only Jisung who was there.
“Where is Y/N?” Chan asked, setting down your favorite candy and chips on the reclining chair you always claimed. He looked around the corner to see if you were in your room. Your door was open and he walked in, looking at the little polaroids littered across your room on various walls and flat surfaces. He looked at your books and plushies with a soft smile.
“She’s working overtime tonight. Do you want to watch a Marvel or DC movie?” Jisung called from the living room. Chan’s brow furrowed. He knew the company you worked for closed early on Fridays, all employees getting off early. Something he had realized after observing you for so long.
“Marvel…” Chan called out, closing the door behind himself.
As suspected you weren’t working overtime.
Rather as time passed, you found comfort in unexpected places. One of those places was the attractive man that one night, your neighbor Sunghoon. Who, much to your surprise, shared your interests and understood your silence without question. He became your confidant, your quiet escape from the heartache Chan had left behind.
“He’s probably over at my house right now with Jisung.” You had mumbled as you cuddled up on his side. Also, much to your surprise, Sunghoon was a great cuddle buddy. What was even better is that he wanted nothing in return, nor were there any ill intentions letting you grow close to him in an emotional and physical way. He had confided in you that a deeper intimacy was something he couldn’t ever see himself liking, which was why he was set on settling down alone, and that he wasn’t much of a physical person to begin with, but with you he found himself not minding the soft physicality much at all.
“Like we’re twin flames right.” You had joked, that day, holding out your pinky. He had nodded, locking pinkies with yours.
“You’re right, but I am more than sure he won’t think to come over her-”
The doorbell rang and you sprung up from your position on the couch as Sunghoon made his way to the door.
“Well speak of the devil…” He mumbled.
Chan stood at the doorway of Jisung’s new neighbor, delivery food in his hand. He looked at the bag and considered the weight of the bag.
Maybe a couple having date night?
“Hello?” A tall and undeniably attractive man stood at the door.
Damn…wow uh-
“Oh, hey! I think your delivery was sent to my friend’s house. I just wanted to make sure you knew it was here...” The man looked at Chan with a blank look.
Are kids these days given supplements or something…why is he so majestic looking…
“Oh, thank you.” He said , bowing and grabbing the food.
Before the door was shut, Chan could’ve sworn he noticed a pair of familiar shoes, but disregarded it, making his way back to Jisung’s.
As more time passed, you found yourself missing Chan rather than getting over him.
“Is it strange, Sungie?” you asked while you were building a puzzle with him one evening- another Friday. “That I’m absolutely pissed, and heartbroken, but I want nothing more than to see him? And I can’t think of anything other than I miss him?”
Sunghoon thought for a moment and then spoke softly. “No, it’s not strange at all. Rather, it’d be strange if you didn’t. Sometimes, love clings to us hardest when we’re hurting the most. It's like every part of you is aching for the one person who can make it better—even if they’re the one who hurt you. Missing him doesn’t make you weak; it just means he’s still a part of your heart. Sometimes, loving someone means feeling everything all at once—the anger, the heartbreak, and that unstoppable longing. It’s okay to feel it all."
You were at your house, and Sunghoon was over since he had become a regular visitor, after Jisung befriended him and then finally pieced together where you were going every Friday and other odd days of the week when you first heard the news. At first he had assumed you and Sunghoon were a thing until you both quickly shot down that notion by informing Jisung that relationships and love were not Sunghoon’s cup of tea.
But since he now knew that wasn’t the case, and had long since known the truth since your first and last drunk outing he thought you might want to know.
“They broke up. Strange enough, Chan didn’t seem all that upset—I mean, he did seem upset, but you think you’d be more upset when you break up, you know?” Jisung rambled, barely pausing for breath. “Instead, he was, like, really calm, which made no sense to me. I feel like I’d be freaking out, or, like, super sad, or anxious, or angry. How can you just be indifferent to a breakup with someone you thought was going to be the love of your life? It’s like those characters in anime—”
You tuned out Jisung’s voice, the news sinking in like stones in your stomach as you laid your head against Sunghoon’s side as he read the ingredients on an air freshener bottle while he waited for Jisung to finish warming up food.
Chan and Duri had broken up. Your heart was a tangled mess of relief and pain, of memories you hadn’t let yourself fully process. After all those months, he was free—but what did it mean now? What did any of it mean when he’d already chosen her once?
As Jisung continued his rapid-fire monologue, you watched to the two people who had been a distraction these past few weeks: him and Sunghoon. Sunghoon, in a more practical way since he knew the depths of your doubts and worries, and easily fit into the spot of your platonic soulmate and best friend. It seemed he was more versed on the Chan-sized hole in your heart than even you were, and you were glad you now had him to walk these roads with you.
Eventually Jisung came back to the living room with dinner, and you were soon enough immersed into the activities of the evening.
You were unaware what was about to go down when the knock at the door came, Jisung springing up to answer it, his laughter echoing down the hall as he let someone in. The air around you shifted, growing thicker, familiar, and before you even turned around, you knew who was standing there.
You had known him long enough to sense when the man you loved was in the room. His presence filled it quickly enough, his gaze sweeping over the space, lingering a little too long on you and Sunghoon, who seemed to be molded together perfectly, Sunghoon’s arm lazily resting on your leg.
Jisung shot you an awkward glance before mumbling something about getting snacks from the store. He and Sunghoon exchanged a glance, and, with a silent nod Sunghoon got up, and they left, closing the door behind them. You were left alone with Chan in the thick silence that followed, the quiet pressing down around you.
Chan’s expression was tense, guarded, and yet, behind his eyes, you saw a trace of vulnerability. He took a hesitant step toward you, his voice soft. “Y/N…”
You met his gaze, pain simmering just beneath the surface. “What are you doing here?”
He took a deep breath, guilt etched into the lines of his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. “I should have listened to you. I didn’t… I couldn’t see it. I was so focused on Duri that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. She wasn’t loyal. I caught her cheating, and I realized just how wrong I was and how right you and Jisung were.”
His words landed between you, each one a mix of relief and ache that clawed at your heart. But you couldn’t ignore the questions tumbling through your mind—the doubts that held you back from even entertaining the hope you’d once felt. You folded your arms, steadying yourself as you looked away.
“Chan, I don’t even know what to say to you. It’s not just about her or your breakup,” you said, voice low.
The older boy flinched at your words.
“Chan…” He mumbled. You had rarely ever spoken his name aloud like that before. So rarely he couldn’t even remember the last time you did, and he didn’t even recognize your voice when you said it. “I messed up horribly…didn’t I?”
“You didn’t just choose her.” You started. “You looked me in the eyes and didn’t believe me. You accused me of saying things because of personal feelings. Then went on to accuse me of lying to you because I never confessed my feelings- even though apparently I did and you just omitted the truth of what I said when I blacked out as if that's not also a form of dishonesty. You thought I was trying to ruin your happiness, like I’d sabotage your relationship out of jealousy. Are you serious, Chan?”
He winced again, his hand reaching toward you as if he wanted to touch you but was too afraid. “I know, Y/N, and I hate that I did that to you. I was wrong. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I just… I needed you to know that I truly am am sorry. I didn’t think I had hurt you that badly and it was foolish.”
The hurt that had sat quietly in your heart surged to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you murmured, “So what? You’re here now because you need a rebound? You want someone to feel close to because she’s gone?”
Chan’s face fell, confusion and hurt flickering across his features. “What? No, Y/N, it’s not like that at all. You’re not some replacement or… or backup. You’ve never been that to me, ever.”
“Then what am I, Chan?” You shook your head, frustration and sorrow mingling together. “Because if I was the first one you come to- not even your best friend-” You said referring to your brother. “Than there has to be reason behind that. Let me guess, you feel something for me?”
Chan swallowed and you knew his answer when you saw the look in his brown eyes. You let out and exasperated sigh and tried to hold back your tears, but couldn’t so you looked at the ground instead.
“If you really felt this way—if you really cared about me or dare I even say loved me…then why did you pick her? Why now, after you’ve been with her all this time? Am I supposed to believe that just because she’s out of the picture, you’ve suddenly realized what you want?” Your voice was sad and defeated and you let your tears fall. “If so that's really really mean.” You whined sadly.
His eyes widened, and he shook his head emphatically. “No, it’s not because of that. Y/N, I was so stupid. I’ve spent these past few weeks… I didn’t even realize how much I missed you until I lost you. I can’t just go back to how things were, but I know I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”
He paused until you looked up at him, his heart shattering even more at the glossiness behind your sad eyes. “It’s not that Y/N-ie not at all. Sometimes you really just don’t know what you’ve had until you lost it.
But something about his gaze shifted as he glanced back toward the door where Jisung and Sunghoon had left. His mouth pressed into a thin line, his brows drawn together in a dark, unreadable expression. “Guess I’ve already been replaced though, huh?” He said quietly.
You felt your stomach twist at his words, your tears drying almost immediately with the thought of where this was heading. “Replaced? What are you even talking about?”
“Your neighbor,” he said bitterly, albeit soft; the label sharp on his tongue. “You and him. I came here to tell you how much I’ve messed things up, only to see you with him. I guess it didn’t take long for you to move on.”
The accusation in his voice stung, leaving you feeling exposed. You bit back the urge to yell, to let out the anger that had simmered for so long. You knew it brought some validity to his earlier statement, him being jealous of Sunghoon, but God did you sometimes want to smack sense into him.
“You don’t get to come in here and make assumptions about me, Chan. Sunghoon is my friend. He’s been here because you weren’t. Because you pushed me away. I didn’t have a choice.”
“But you looked happy cuddled with him,” he said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “It didn’t seem like you missed me at all.”
You swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in your chest intensify. “Of course, I missed you. But you don’t get to accuse me of moving on. I waited. I wanted… I thought maybe one day you’d see me. But you chose her. You chose someone who didn’t even care about you, and I was the one left behind. So of course I needed comfort.”
He took a shaky breath, eyes softening as he stepped closer. “I chose wrong. I see that now, Y/N. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to just forget that. But I can’t pretend now that I don’t feel something for you.”
You stared at him, searching his face for any hint of sincerity, but doubt gnawed at you. “We just went over this. How am I supposed to know it’s real? How am I supposed to believe that you actually want me, and not just because it’s convenient? If you loved me before than why not say something.”
“Why didn’t you say something!”
“Because unlike you I don’t go around dating people while I have a crush on someone Chan! If it was ‘oh so obvious’ than you should have said something. Or I don’t know, maybe when I blacked out and confessed you could have done something then-”
“I was petrified!” Chan shouted, causing you to take a step back. “How…how am I supposed to respond when my best friend’s little sister tells me she’s been in love with me since we were kids. And that’s its only growing?” He swallowed. “Am I supposed to take that risk and tell her its mutual, but that I don’t want to do anything in case things get messy? Because I don’t want to ruin things? Relationships are complicated Y/N! People fight and argue but romantic ones are so much heartier. Those arguments and fights hold more weight than friendships. I wasn’t…happy…only being your friend but I was content. Even if it meant I wouldn’t get to hold you or kiss you, or see your face in my children’s faces I was okay with that as long as it meant there was no risk in ruining things between us. And that saved me from the risk of getting on uneasy territory with Jisung. So I left it alone. I didn’t tell you. I asked Jisung to forget about it even if that meant he was upset at me for quote ‘rejecting my wonderful and perfect little sister’ unquote.”
You stood there, lips trembling, not knowing what to say as he lay his heart in front of you.
He reached out, brushing a thumb over your cheek in a tender, hesitant motion. “But now that I know what it’s like to live without you, Y/N, I can’t go back to that. I can’t. I don’t want anyone else. I just want a chance to make this right.”
The vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much, the raw honesty in his touch searing against your skin. But your heart still trembled with uncertainty, with a fear that ran deep.
“I’m petrified now.”
A tear slipped down his cheek as he nodded, a small chuckle leaving his lips, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had fallen from your own eyes. “I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I love you, Y/N, so you won’t have a reason to be scared. I don’t want to lose you, not again. I was blind, but I see it now. And if you’ll let me, I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To get you to a point where you won’t be able to deny the fact I only want you.”
You held his gaze, your heart wavering between the hope you’d never fully let go of and the fear that he’d break it all over again. And in that quiet moment, with the ache of the past between you, a fragile, cautious feeling began to bloom once more.
You took a steadying breath, bracing yourself as you met Chan’s eyes. “Chan, I don’t know what assumptions you’ve made about Sunghoon, but he’s just my friend. He’s been there because…” You hesitated, the words delicate on your tongue. “Because I needed someone. Not someone to date, or to replace you, but just…someone who understands. He’s helped me pick up the pieces after everything fell apart. And he’s not even interested in relationships like that. We’re just close in a different way.”
Chan blinked, his gaze softening as he listened, brows knitting in a mixture of relief and confusion. “So… you and Sunghoon… you’re really just friends?”
“Yes,” you replied, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your voice. “And he’s not going to change his mind about that. He doesn’t want anything more with anyone. It’s not in him. But he’s been a good friend—my best friend…my soulmate really.” Your voice trailed off quietly. “He’s someone I could talk to when I felt like I’d lost you.”
Chan let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he looked away, processing. “I…I feel so stupid. I was so ready to believe you’d moved on, that you’d replaced me. It was like this nightmare I’d imagined every night, that you’d found someone else who actually deserved you. And when I walked in and saw you both…”
His words faltered, and he rubbed a hand over his face, frustration and regret etched deep. “But I know I can’t blame you for being close to him. You had every right to find support after what I put you through. I just…”
“You just didn’t believe me,” you finished for him, the words raw but necessary. “And then you left, and I didn’t know how to fill that space you’d left behind but Sunghoon found a way. But that doesn’t mean he warrants any jealousy from you, Chris. I’m hoping you can learn to love him like you love Jisung. For me?”
He nodded, his eyes filled with regret.A part of you softened at the earnestness in his expression, the vulnerability that showed he understood, at least on some level, of what all of this meant. You sighed, feeling the weight of everything settling over you, but also immensely light.
But Chan seemed like he was struggling for a moment.
“Whats wrong?”
He bit his lip, his gaze darting away for a second before he finally asked, “Was there ever a point when…when you thought you could move on? That maybe you’d fall for someone else?”
The question struck deeper than you’d expected, and for a moment, you just looked at him, letting yourself process the vulnerability etched into his features. Did he truly think he could simply be replaced? That you’d spent years loving him, only to let him go?
“I thought about it,” you admitted, your voice soft but steady. “I thought maybe it would be easier if I could just let go. Even before all of this I thought about it. But no matter how much I tried, it was always you. It’s always been you.”
You felt the familiar sting of tears, and you blinked them away, not wanting him to see just how deeply his words affected you. “For the record, I don’t want to lose you either. But if we’re going to do this, we have to be honest. No more letting other people’s opinions get in the way. No more letting doubts fester between us.”
He nodded, a fierce determination filling his gaze. “No more doubts. I want us to be real, Y/N. Nothing standing in the way, just you and me.”
The weight of his words, the sincerity in his gaze, was almost overwhelming. You felt the warmth of his hand as he reached for yours, his fingers tentative, as if he wasn’t sure you’d accept him.
You took his hand, squeezing it gently, grounding yourself in the quiet assurance of his touch. It wasn’t the grand gesture you’d once dreamed of, but it was real. And somehow, that made it mean even more.
He looked down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “Thank you for giving me this chance, Y/N. I’ll spend every day showing you that I mean it.”
You offered him a small, tentative smile, one that held a flicker of hope. “And I’ll do my best to believe it. But you have to understand—this is going to take time.”
He nodded, his own smile softening his face. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
For a moment, you both stood there, hands entwined, caught in the delicate balance between past hurt and the fragile possibility of something new. The wounds might still be raw, but you could feel them beginning to heal, slowly, with each beat of your hearts in sync.
As you looked into his eyes, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time—a cautious, budding belief that maybe, just maybe, this time, things would be different.
A few weeks later, things had settled into a comfortable, tentative new rhythm. The past wasn’t forgotten, but it had softened around the edges, allowing something new to bloom between you and Chan—no, Chris. You’d started calling him that again recently, just between the two of you, and every time he heard it, his eyes lit up, as though it was his own quiet assurance that he had your forgiveness, that he wasn’t just “Chan,” your brother’s best friend, but Chris, the man you were falling for all over again.
You weren’t rushing anything, taking each moment as it came. There were stolen glances, shared laughter, and late-night conversations that stretched until dawn, weaving a new kind of trust between you. He was patient and gentle, letting you set the pace, and every step you took forward felt right. It was healing, a slow rekindling that felt like rediscovering a part of yourself that had been missing.
One Saturday afternoon, you and Chris were sitting on the couch, a movie playing in the background as he leaned closer, his arm resting around your shoulders. Sunghoon and Jisung had left to get snacks- Chris listening to your request and giving Sunghoon a chance, finding out that he genuinely enjoyed the company of your best friend.
“Its like eternal best friend double dates.” Jisung had joked.
But since your brother and best friend had left, Chan had been looking at you with that soft, adoring expression you’d only dreamed of before, and it made you feel like you were the only person in his world.
“You’re staring,” you whispered, smiling as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks.
“Can you blame me?” he murmured back, his voice warm and low. “I’ve missed so much time, I don’t want to miss a single moment now.”
You felt your heart stutter, a nervous excitement bubbling up as you glanced down at his hand, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on the back of it. The space between you felt electric, and when he gently cupped your face, tilting it towards him, your breath caught. Slowly, as if asking permission, he leaned in.
Your eyes fluttered shut, and then his lips brushed softly against yours, a delicate kiss that felt like everything you’d waited for. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing gently as if he were afraid you might disappear. You kissed him back, your hand moving to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips, strong and steady.
“Chris,” you whispered softly as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his name slipping out naturally, comfortably. The warmth in his eyes told you he’d heard everything you couldn’t put into words—how he was forgiven, how he was here, truly here, and that was all you’d ever wanted.
The tender moment, though, was cut short by a loud gasp and a stumbling sound near the doorway. You whipped around to see Jisung and Sunghoon standing there, both looking wide-eyed and more than a little surprised.
“Oh… I did not mean to see that,” Jisung said, covering his eyes dramatically, though you could see the smirk threatening to break through. “My best friend and my little sister? Wow, I was not prepared!”
Sunghoon, by contrast, grinned openly, the kind of grin that said he’d known this would happen all along. “Took you both long enough,” he teased, making his way over towards you to whack your head affectionately. “I was starting to think I’d have to do something drastic to get you two together.”
You laughed, face warm with embarrassment, but Chris only chuckled, unfazed even by Sunghoon’s physical touch with you, as he slid his arm around your shoulders again. “You two need to learn how to knock,” he said lightly, squeezing you a little closer.
Sunghoon just shrugged, shooting you a mischievous look. “I’m sure Jisung didn’t feel a need to consider having to knock on the door of his own home.”
Jisung laughed, giving Sunghoon a playful nudge. But then turning to Chan with a serious look. “I might still need to have ‘the talk’ with you, Hyung. I know we’ve known each other forever, but this is new territory.”
You rolled your eyes, pretending to scowl at your brother. “Oh, please, Ji. You never said anything before.”
“It’s because you weren’t actually together at the time! But now you are.”
Chris leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, a look of peace and contentment in his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said, looking up at Jisung and Sunghoon, his tone serious yet gentle. “Not ever.”
Jisung nodded, his expression softening as he took in the scene. “Good. Just make sure you’re good to her, alright? Or else I’ll have to do the brotherly duty of fighting you or whatever older brothers are supposed to do…” He mumbled, turning towards Sunghoon for backup.
“Yeah…and I’ll do whatever a best friend does…” He said confused, shrugging as you laughed.
Chris’s grip tightened just slightly around your shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, his voice low and steady. “She’s the most important person in my life.”
Jisung scrunched up his nose, pretending to gag. “Ugh, okay, I was prepared for the brother talk, but I did not sign up for the mushy romance stuff. Can you two not be gross for five seconds?”
Chris laughed, glancing down at you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Fine, I’ll spare you… for now,” he said, giving you a playful nudge and a kiss to your nose
Sunghoon, ever the instigator, leaned back with a grin. “Hey, give them a break, Jisung. They’ve got years of this to catch up on. And honestly, I’m enjoying the show.”
Jisung threw a pillow in Sunghoon’s direction. “Well then maybe you should go find yourself someone if you think it’s cute seeing how my best friend and sister act.” He teased, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe they’ll have a sister and then you can join our family.”
Sunghoon shuddered and shook his head. “No thank you. But Y/N’s kids will have an Uncle who spoils them.” He said, grabbing the bottle of Soju from the coffee table.
“Hey! I get the title of favorite Uncle automatically.” Jisung whined. “No fair.”
Sunghoon shrugged. “The favorite Uncle has to be from the maternal side.”
“The hypothetical-” He shot a look at you. “Mom in question is my sister!”
“Logic, doesn’t always logic my dear friend.”
As Sunghoon and Jisung went back and forth you laughed, settling into Chris’s embrace, feeling the warmth of home around you. You felt his smile without even looking and it made your heart leap. This, right here, was everything you’d hoped for and more. And as the teasing and laughter filled the room, you knew that no matter what, you were exactly where you were meant to be. With who you were meant to be with.
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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader
summary you and Eddie have just become a couple, you meet hellfire club, Wayne finally meets you, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (6.8k)
warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!
a/n: thank you guys for the support, and thanks to the lovely @criesinlies for her help and motivation, this one is for u babe <3 part1 part2 part 3 (they can be read seperatly)
“As you feel the air collapse in your lungs, I’m gonna need a constitution saving throw from you, Tayr.” Eddie explains, as his voice changes into that dramatic tone he always uses when he’s in the middle of a session, pointing at Mike who is stunned and on the verge of having a meltdown.
“Wha-Whaddumean the air collapses in my lungs?” He asks frantically, as he shuffles through papers, trying to find something that will get him out of this, his die on his hand, rattling anxiously.
“Counterspell!” Will screams, his hand on reaching for Eddie, he just scoffs.
“It’s not a spell.” His voice remains calm, not stopping the visual contact he had going on, enjoying the menacing aura he had going on, something he didn’t get to do as often now that most of the stories and voices he could do were the ones for bedtime so Lua would fall asleep.
He enjoyed looking at the chaos that ensued at the table, how they all were chatting amongst themselves, trying to find a solution, something useful so Mike’s character wouldn't die.
Eddie hears the soft knocks on the door, his eyebrows raise a bit as he looks over at the trailer. The kids were around the table, buried deep with character sheets and spell cards, Max and El were on the living room floor drawing and colouring with Lua, Steve and Robin weren’t supposed to come pick them up for another forty minutes and uncle Wayne had yet to come back from work.
He made his way to the front door, excusing himself from his usual DM spot, Dustin nodding in understanding, a curious look on his face as he looked over at him, and who could be behind the door.
You had left work a bit earlier, for once they actually respected your work hours, and understood that if you started your shift at ten in the morning, you shouldn’t stay past six in the afternoon. So for once, you were back in the trailer park beforehalf past, and lucky for you, you caught some pastries they wanted to throw out, they said they were too old to sell, but you had baked them yesterday night, so you knew for a fact the blueberry muffins that where Lua’s favourite and the Cinnamon rolls that Eddie liked were good to take.
So, there you were, your work clothes still on, and a little cardboard box in your hands.
You looked up at him, as soon as he opened the door and his head tilted ever so slightly to the right, your lips were already curving upwards as you made eye contact with him. His eyes melting a bit at the sight of you, he made a step back, letting you in.
You didn’t really have any reason to be alert, you were just happy to see him, and excited to do so, even if the nerves of the dinner you had in a couple hours were starting to manifest in your body, you paid them no mind. Instead, you pointed your feet up, the distance between both of your bodies closing, a small peck left on his lips from yours. He smiled as he always does when you kiss him.
You realised right there that something strange was going on, when the usual noise that rummaged through his trailer was gone. Even worse, the noise you had heard from the other side of the door had ceased, you pulled away, not too far for that matter, your body still a breath away from his, his hand resting on your waist.
“Got out of work earlier, they gave me some sweets… I thought maybe Lua..” That’s when you realised that he wasn’t exactly alone.
There was a group of kids sitting around a table, their eyes about to pop out of their heads, mouths opened in shock, whilst Lua was in the company of two girls. You recognized the red head, Max lived a couple trailers down from you, she always had some kind words to say about your outfit, and you had helped her a couple of times when her mom was away and her washing machine was making the same funny sound as yours did.
She was the one that seemed more shocked out of them all, standing up in one swift movement as Lua clocked that you were there. Her usual gigle as a greeting as she started walking clumsily to your feet, her arms opened for you to hug her. Eddie gave you the same nod he always did, as he took a step further from you and took the little box with sweets out of your hands. It always happened when Lua wanted attention from you, you looked over at Eddie a ‘is this okay? can i hold her?’ look he had become used to, and that he absolutely adored.
“Princess!” Lua cheered as she wrapped her arms lazily on the back of your neck, Eddie had told you about the whole princess accident, and you had become somehow warmed up about the nickname that she had gifted you. You pulled her in a warm hug.
“Hi dude, you doing okay?” You asked, your voice higher in pitch as it always did when you talked to her.
“Yeah. Friends over!” She pointed out to the two girls that remained silent on the floor, her mouth still slightly opened.
“Eddie you rat!” Max broke the silence, the cascade of comments starting to flow as the kids were coming out of shock. “I live right next to you, how did I not know!” She continued, you looked at her, a bit afraid of her if you were being honest. Her hard tone contradicts with her wide smile.
“Is she your girlfriend?” One of the boys asked from the table, his tan skin made his blue shirt pop, just as much as his question did. Making you both blush in a similar way, looking at each other, Lua looking between the both of you, still on your arms.
“She’s dada’s princess.” She explains, as best as she could, her sweet words making you chuckle, as Eddie took her from your arms, pulling her in a soft embrace.
“Yes, and she got you a snack, d’you want some?” Eddie rattled the box, and Lua’s eyes widened as she cheered.
The chattering continued as you sort of stood in the middle of the room, not sure where to go to, or what to do now.
“How did he get you to agree to go out with him?” A boy with curly hair half covered with a cap that had some writing you couldn’t quite read spoke, an incredulous tone evident by the way his face looked, a raised eyebrow following his question.
“It wasn’t that hard, really… he just… asked?” You could hear Eddie laughing from the kitchen, the sound of it making your shoulders relax, you weren’t used to that much attention.
“Unbelievable, I should have been asking Eddie the Freak Munson for girl advice, not King Steve… who would have known.” The same boy replayed, you caught the same dramatic voice and flare you had caught on Eddie a few times, it made you chuckle.
“Eddie the Freak?” You questioned, more to yourself than to anyone else, as you took a step closer to the table.
“Oh, yeah. He’s a big nerd, even bigger when he was in High School.” Max was the one talking now, teasing him as Eddie walked out the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest.
Lua was walking with a plastic plate on her hand, half of the muffin on it. She was trying really carefully to not drop it, concentrating on finding her way to the couch.
“Hey, enough teasing the one that’s housing you, ‘kay?” That was an expression you still haven’t seen or heard in Eddie. His head tilted to the left, his hair falling a bit in front of his face, his eyes wider before he closed them a bit, his lips pressing against each other. Eddie was embarrassed, and didn’t really know how to manage it.
“Yeah, we’re literally in the middle of a campaign.” The boy with the black hair and arched nose points out frantically gesturing at the board on top of the table. “I might be dying!” Urgency comes back into his voice, and you can see the way Eddie tries to mask a laugh, his hand hiding his smile, only growing when he makes eye contact with you.
“Well, at least someone kisses her girlfriend.” The girl that was beside Max and had been quiet spoke out, a spec of hurt in her voice. Her words made the boy that was somehow about to die shake his head in disbelief at her, while Max and the two other boys that had spoken chuckle. The boy that hadn’t spoken yet looked at the dying boy longley.
Eddie enjoyed the teasing when it wasn’t focused on him, so he let out a chuckle as soon as she heard how El teased Mike back for not being as affectionate as he was. Then again, Eddie was aware that he was highly affectionate, and even now, not being next to you, or holding your hand was a weird feeling now that he could call you his girlfriend.
Maybe that’s why he uses the small moment where they were chuckling and quietly teasing Mike to walk over you, his hand finally resting on the small of your back, where it fits in a perfect way, the small touch reassuring you in a way you didn’t think possible. Your head spins to look at him, his eyes half closed when they meet yours, he can’t help but leave a small kiss on your forehead. And you can’t help but rest your head on his chest as soon as he breaks the tiny kiss.
“Okay, roll call or they won’t stop looking at us weird.” Eddie half jokes as he speaks up, you just enjoy the way his chest vibrates when he talks, for a moment you let yourself daydreaming of the day you get to sleep with him as close as you were now. “You know Max.” You nod as the red haired girl looks up at you again, before sitting down back on the floor. “That’s El” The one that had teased the other boy about kissing mouthed a silent hi, her eyebrows slightly raised “She also goes by Jane.” Eddie turns to your ear, whispering it to you.
“Dustin, Henderson. Though right now I’m Nog.” The boy with the curled covered hair spoke next, he seemed excited to meet you, his smile was contagious.
“Uh… Okay?” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant with right now, and you had a habit of not masking your emotions, so your face could be read like a poem, your eyebrows raised in misunderstanding and confusion.
“She doesn’t know about D&D?” The boy that was supposedly dying erupted again, and you heard Eddie audibly roll his eyes.
“It doesn’t matter.”The guy next to him talked, though he almost cut him off, frustration on his voice, the rest of the party scoffed and tried to hide a chuckle “I’m Will, or Will the Wise. He’s Mike, or Tayr in this case.” He pointed to them both, you nodded, trying hard to remember everyone’s names.
“I’m Lucas or Sundar the Bold, also Max’s sometimes boyfriend.” He tries to charm the girl who just rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. Even if you clock a soft curving of her lips.
You smile to yourself, trying to hold as much information as you can.
“Do you also have a second name?”
Eddie laughs, as he pushes a little hair away from his face, tucking it away nicely under his ear.
“No, I uh… I’m the, uh… Dungeon Master.”
“What’s-”
Luckily for Eddie, Steve walked in at that moment. Robin followed him closely. Giving him another moment of quietness and self reflection as they walked inside, observing the scene as they did.
He had never been embarrassed about playing, or anything of that matter, but for some stupid reason that he wasn’t sure of, he felt just that seeing you in his space when he was not expecting it. He wasn’t prepared, for you to see him actively nerding out, even worse, when the stakes at the table were as high.
“I think we got here a bit early, Steve.” Robin pointed out, her voice doing that sing along tone that you found charming. Lua waved at them from the couch where she was still enjoying her little treat. The reason you were here after all.
“Oh, shi-” Eddie glared down at him before he could finish the sentence, a quick nod to the little girl listening in. “You’re one to talk.”
“You are!” Dustin halved screamed from his chair, an accusatory finger pointing at him. “You’re the one giving out girl advice, while Eddie somehow managed to find a respectfully hot girl to go out with him.” You can’t help but giggle at the way he said respectfully, his mouth enunciating every syllable of the word while he looked at you in an apologetic way.
Eddie blushed harder, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. The vein on his neck grows larger every second. Unlucky for him, and due to the fact that he was far too distracted, he missed the look on your face when you caught that, the half second where the image of Eddie biting his lower lip trying to hide a cocky smile as his vein pulsed had made your thighs clench, and your eyes darken.
“Henderson’s right, Steve” Robin added in her teasing tone, her words felt like they had an extra space written in between them. “That’s another point on the you suck table.” For some reason that you didn’t understand, that snarky comment made them all laugh, an inside joke you hope to understand someday.
“I uh… should go back to my trailer.” You point to the opened door with your head, your hand now was somehow tangled with Eddie’s.
“You can stay.” He pleas with a sweet soft voice, like honey to your ears. His eyes looking down at you, somehow becoming doe-like.
“I would, but I need to make dinner for four.” You remind him as you wink. A lovesick smile appears on his lips once again, forgetting that he was surrounded by people that will tease him as soon as you’re gone. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, come whenever.”
He stands there for a moment, knowing full well that their friends are talking to him, teasing him relentlessly, but he doesn’t really care, he’s too focused on seeing the way your body moves, and how even your steps reflect how happy you feel.
-
“I thought she was coming over here.” Wayne pointed out, standing against the bathroom door, looking over Eddie's shoulder, as he brushed out Lua’s recently clean hair.
“She was, but she wanted to host, said she’d feel more comfortable.” Eddie explained, not really focusing on what he was saying, more centered in the job he was doing. He had an experience with curly hair, and knew just how much care it needed, and how much he hated detangling it when he himself was a kid. “I’ll be done in a second, bug.” He tried to reassure her, her hands pushing him away.
“Right.” Eddie wasn’t expecting much words out of his uncle, but he was still a bit anxious, and he wasn’t really sure he knew why. “You should shower, I’ll change Lua.” He told him, as he grabbed Lua in a soft embrace.
That’s when Eddie realised he had been anxiously brushing his daughter’s hair for the last fifteen minutes.
And that he probably just needed a second, a moment or a minute just for himself.
Turns out, silence can also be an overwhelming sound.
For Eddie, silence was the time his thoughts gained free raign on his brain.
Even if he tried to quiet them down, hot water hitting the back of his head as he takes his time washing his hair, he wasn’t sure he could do it.
He was used to judgment. First it was him being a nerd, which evolved into freak, which ended with reckless. First he had been an outcast, then he had been the dangerous teen, now he was the young dad who barely finished high school.
His problem -he realised as the water pressure hitted the knot that he had on his left shoulder- was that that had all happened before you met him.
And he hadn’t told you a lot about that. Or about Hellfire and just how important and life saving it had been for him, despite it’s nerdy side, which was what you had only seen.
He had a river of what if’s as he brushed his damp hair, putting leave in conditioner and drying it.
He kept thinking.
What if you seeing him with (ironically) even more kids had somehow pushed you away.
What if you knowing that he had been on the verge of expulsion made you reject him.
What if you getting to actually know him made you wish you never had in the first place.
Wayne knew what was going on, but he had realised through experience that the best he could do is just give him space, facilitate the tasks he had to do. So he left him his comfort black button up shirt he always wore when he wanted to feel better, his usual blue jeans under it.
He had dressed Lua, with the hand-me-down clothes Jameson from three trailers up had given them a few months ago, a pastel baby blue dress she had a fuss about, until she realised it was actually comfortable. Wayne smiled to himself, remembering how Eddie used to do the same.
Across the street, you were setting up the table.
The meat cannelloni your grandma used to make for you -or your best attempt at them- where being covered in bechamel that you had just finished, the bottom of the pot that you had used was barely brown for once, a good sign, you thought. Maybe a bit too nutmeg, maybe not enough salt, but it drowns the cannelloni in a warm blanket, before you put some shredded cheese on top.
Once they were in the oven, the whole trailer smelt like warmth.
And you started fidgeting with the hem of your long sleeve.
You checked again that the white wine was chilled, and that you had plenty of water and orange juice for Lua.
You repainted your lips red, and checked that you didn’t have any mascara stains in your eyelids for the third time.
You decided to set the table, soft music playing in the background. A tape you had had for a while, with Bowie, the Smiths and some songs you just knew the name of. As you placed the last fork, the familiar soft knock came from the door. A smile appearing in your lips as a response.
Eddie’s breathing slowed down as soon as he locked eyes with you. His shoulders dropped a bit, his eyes softened, just by seeing you, the river of thoughts stopped.
Wayne’s eyebrows raised -as soon as he saw the effect you had on his anxious nephew- but neither of you noticed.
“You look nice.” You let out, your voice softer, kinder.
“So do you.” He said back, his voice no longer shaking. Lua in his arms, reaching for you.
“Hi dude!” Your pitch became higher, as you grabbed her for a quick hug, letting her on the floor so she could investigate as she loved to do.
Eddie stepped a bit closer to you, leaving a kiss on the spot he liked so much, right where your right temple met your hairline, before introducing you to Wayne.
“It’s a pleasure.” You tell him, a firm shake of hands proceeds your words, a kind smile in his lips as his eyes are framed by smile lines.
“I’m sure it’s all mine.” He replays, you like how he drags every word, his accent being so different form the one Eddie has. “It smells heavenly.”
“Grandma’s recipe.” You tell him, as you move to the table.
Eddie sees that you had fixed a chair with a couple of your hard pillows, so Lua could actually be seated on her own chair, with you. For some stupid reason, it warmed his heart. He hadn’t asked you to, assuming that she’d just be in his lap once again, but seeing that you had taken the effort, made him see -even if he thought it before- just how much you do care.
Wayne caught it, the way Eddie’s smirk appeared as he looked at the chair, the small plastic plate and utensils you had set up for her. Water and orange juice. Wayne was starting to like you already, and he had barely talked to you.
Everyone seemed to like the food, a soft wow escaped Wayne’s lips when non one was looking, as his eyebrows raised in amusement. Lua had wanted to try them as soon as they were set up on the table, Eddie telling her as he cut them up in a soft voice that they were too hot, she didn’t care. She grabbed the end of the fork Eddie had, trying to take a bite.
“Do you really wanna burn your mouth?” He asked, even if he was a bit overwhelmed, his tone stayed sweet, calm. She nodded, only looking at the food. He let her take a small bite, which she did eat, chewing with her mouth opened. “I told you.” Eddie gave her a look that you found endearing. His head tilted ever so slightly to the right, his eyes opened a bit too much nodding as he did so, a soft giggle escaped your lips. He couldn’t help his from curling as soon as he heard you.
“Yummy” Is all she said, and it made your eyes squint a bit, your smile growing bigger. Eddie’s voice stopped for a second as he saw you, and how proud you looked.
“You like it?” Eddie could swear your eyes shined when you asked, even a bit brighter when you saw Lua nodding.
Wayne realised something in that moment, the small bubble that you seemed to be in.
From where he was, it already looked like you belonged. Like you always had. You seemed to understand Eddie just as good as he was, maybe even better.
Wayne did try to get to know you, asking you things every time he felt like he had an opportunity. He was always kind, and gave you a smile when you answered.
The thing that you found out that Wayne and Eddie shared was how much they listened, and remembered.
“How come you ended up in Hawkins?”
“They lied to her.” Eddie replayed before you could, food still in your mouth.
“Whaddumean?” Wayne responded in shock, his eyes staring at you, wanting you to answer.
“I uh… I got a call about a teaching spot that was supposedly open, in the High School, but uh… they forgot to add that it wouldn’t actually be available for another six months so… I’m in the cafe, saving up… you know” You felt like you were overexplaining yourself, or that you were coming across as pitiful, but as soon as you felt Eddie's hand on your thigh, a small squeeze on it, you knew you were going to be okay. That you were doing okay.
Wayne looked over at Eddie, a smirk appearing on his lips, that Eddie knew the meaning of, and for once he was welcome you didn’t. It said, you also want to get out of here. Eddie couldn’t unpack that, not now.
“Well, I’ve heard you’ve already met some of your future students.” He said instead, taking a sip of the white wine you had poured for him.
“Have I?”
“Didn’t your little fan club come?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie, who had gone quieter. Not only was he not talking, but he had that shyness that he had grown to hide coming out, right there in the open.
“Fan club?” You asked back, giving him a little look. He seemed lost, present, but still not entirely there.
“Hellfire, we uh… play a game together.”
“I didn’t know you had more kids beside Lua.” Even if you were smiling sincerely, even if he knew you were teasing him, he still gave you an apologetic smile, not really looking at you but at Wayne, begging him to stop.
Wayne understands, so he waits a few seconds for the music that had been softly playing to stop, he wipes his mouth with the napkin as he nods at his nephew.
“I should get Lua to bed.” He excuses himself, as he walks over to her. Lua looked up at him with a puzzled look in her eyes, her head swinging between his dad and his uncle. “Let’s go to bed, Lu.” It’s the first time that you hear him being sweet, almost like honey.
Lua stands up on her own, her arms up in the air, waiting to be lift up by him. He waves you goodbye in sync with Wayne as he walks out the door.
You stand up.
You don’t really know what you have done to make Eddie quiet, but you give him space, as you clear the table, and you catch him playing with his index finger, a repetitive movement that lets you know he’s got something bugging him in his mind.
You let him stay in the chair while water runs down your hands. Calming yourself whilst you come out with the right words.
“Are you okay?” You end up asking the most basic question, but the only one you can actually think of. He finally looks up at you, and in doing so he realises due to the iron taste in his mouth that he had been biting his lower lip a bit too hard.
“Yeah, just… Sorry.” He tried to brush it off, finally standing up, walking to the kitchen. His hands hidden deep in the back pockets of his jeans.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He knows that took courage out of you to ask, you start cleaning the plates, the sponge bubbling up as you squeezed it.
“Do you want me to dry?” He asks back, stepping closer to you, nodding to your previous question, looking for a way to be close to you.
“Sure.” You step to the left, letting him a bit of space for him to fit, his waits hitting his, a comforting touch that makes his brain slow down once more. “Did I do something? While we were eating?” You try to ask, not sure why he went quiet all of a sudden. Not sure why Wayne had vanished and let you two alone, or why he nodded at Eddie before doing so.
“No, you were amazing. I can tell Wayne already likes you.” He admits, drying the first plate, his voice was shaking a bit in anticipation about the conversation he knew you were about to have. “It’s just… I haven’t been embarrassed about Hellfire in like, ever. And suddenly the fear that you might I dunno, think it’s dumb, or that you wouldn’t like me being like, this huge nerd, that hangs out with Highschoolers while you are supposed to be a teacher and I…” He was talking faster and faster, his words were starting to fuse together, catching up to the speed in which his brain was thinking about it all.
You turn the faucet off, paying him full attention. He catches that in the midst of his rumbling. His eyes lock with yours, as nervous tears make his eyes crystallize.
“Shit I barely graduated. I hated school, I was a freak who liked to play or still likes rather, who tried to defend anyone even if I got beat up or called shitty things and then I got a kid and shit… You have been nothing but nice and you literally are like a I dunno, a princess. Kind and all that shit I don’t… I don’t really deserve it.”
You shake your head as he talks, wanting to interrupt but not really being able to. You just take his hand, a soft touch that lets him know he’s being heard.
“Moon.” He can’t help but look at the way your lips move when you call him by the sweetest nickname he had ever been called, only made better by your voice. Your thumb tracing drabbles on the back of his hand. “I like that you’re a nerd.” He can feel the sincerity of your voice, only made more evident by the smile that painted your lips. “I like it because I like you.” You tell him, your eyes looking at the way his lips part, his head shaking in embarrassment. “I don’t care if you play whatever game, or hang out with whoever, because that makes you who you are. And that’s who I like.”
“Idiot.” It’s the only thing he can manage to say back, with the stupidest widest smile you had seen from him.
“Hopefully yours.” You tease back, turning back to keep cleaning more dishes.
He just stands there, mesmerized by you, and the way that you treat him, how you make him feel. He just gives in the urge, his arms wrapping to your waist, his chest hitting your back. You gave in a bit, pushing into him, melting in his arms.
He took the opportunity to kiss your neck, right where it made your skin tingle, goosebumps being sent through your body. He kisses the same spot again after he hears a giggle turning into a soft moan.
You turn to him, finally giving him a decent kiss.
His lips intertwined with yours, the softness contradicted with the underlining neediness of his touch, both of you smiling through the kiss, his hands in the small of your waist, pulling you in closer, your hands lost in his hair, tugging it in a way he thought was heavenly.
“Yeah, hopefully mine.” He finally responded, once he broke off the kiss, his forehead still touching yours, his hands tracing circles on your skin, under your shirt. You couldn’t stop playing with the ends of his hair.
You stayed a bit longer like that, soft caress left on your body, as you just held each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another.
-
He had come over, right when you were ending your shift, panic in his eyes. He was stressed, you could tell that much, switching his order from regular to decaf. He told you, that he had just been called to cover a late shift, and that he didn’t know if he could take Lua with him, because it would be too late, that Wayne had the night shift and wouldn’t be home until 6 in the morning, how much he just needed some reassurance, maybe a little kiss -he couldn’t stop teasing, not even if he tried, not even when he was panicking- but he wasn’t expecting your response to all of this.
“I could go over and watch her.”
You saw how his thoughts stopped for a moment, and how the warmth he felt in his heart after he heard your words spread through his cheeks. He asked if you were sure, if you actually didn’t mind. He reminded you that you didn’t have to do it, that it wasn’t your responsibility nor did he want to impose you with something you weren’t ready for.
“I’d love to spend some time with her. Maybe she’ll even like me more than you in the end.”
He chuckled, added a no way and thanked you a bit too much, finalizing it all with a quick kiss before he headed out, already late for his shift.
A to go cup in his hand.
Wayne had also thanked you profusely, even if he was a man of no words, he gave you a smile and a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. Lua was sitting down on the couch, mumbling along to the words to her favourite princess movie, while she swanged her hand around, holding on tightly to her chocolate chip cookie.
You sat down next to her, she squeezed in closer to you.
“You really like Aurora, don’t you?” Your voice was always higher in pitch when you talked to her, slower, softer. You thought that maybe you did that, in a way, because if someone had been kinder to you when you were little, maybe things would have been easier.
“She’s the best.” She answered, as if it was painfully obvious. “She lives in the woods, like me!” She pointed out, as soon as the little cottage came on the screen.
“She does.”
“And Dada says I’m special like her.” You noticed how her eyes shined when she talked about Eddie, the care and love he had for her reciprocating in the way she talked.
“You are.” You reassured her, brushing her hair with your fingers, she cuddled with you, a smile on her face.
-
Three fast knocks on the door made you startled. Lua had just gone to bed, and you were a bit busy cleaning the mess you ended up doing. Thankfully, you were used to cleaning after yourself, white papers filled with doodles, and teddies laid on the floor next to the couch. You looked at the clock, and you saw that Eddie still had a while to come home, and he wouldn’t knock, he would just barge in. So with an unsure pace, you made your way to the trailer door, opening it as the little boy was screaming Eddie’s name.
“Oh, hi.” He mumbled, as soon as he saw you.
“Hi. You’re… Dustin?” He took a quick look at you, scanning the scene before he dared to say anything else, not really understanding why you opened the door and not his friend who actually lived there.
“Uh, yeah. We met.” He was measuring his words, still a bit unsure as to what he was supposed to do now. “Where’s Eddie?”
“D’you wanna come in?” You both had asked the questions at the same time, so when he nodded, you just stepped to the side so he could come in. You noticed the backpack he had glued to his back, his straps tighter so the weight wouldn’t bother him. “What do you got there?” You pointed at the heavy back with your finger, a curious tone in your voice that made him grab it, before putting it on the table.
“Oh, I was supposed to meet Eddie.” He said, before seeing you nod, wanting to know more, as you sat down. He followed your movements, as he opened the bag. “He left me some of his D&D stuff, and he was supposed to help me with some things I wanted to add to my first campaign.” He started yapping, you saw that just as Eddie, he talked faster when he was excited about a topic.
“That’s the game you were playing the other day?” You ask sincerely, he nods, as he starts to fill the table with books, little figurines, papers that had scribbling with two different handwriting, sketches… You got lost into all of it for a second, Dustin watching at the way you seemed to analyze it all. “Could you… like, teach me stuff about it?”
“Why?” Dustin scrunched his nose, not really following you, his eyebrows almost meeting on the bridge of his nose.
“Eddie really likes this game, and he talks about it, and I don’t always follow, but I don’t wanna bother him with too many questions so…”
Dustin's wide smile was all the confirmation you needed.
You were starting to get it, you had races, and classes and the little numbers on the paper sheets where abilities, that you decided rolling weird sided dice.
You were in to deep, trying to understand and following him closely, as he flipped through the pages of the big dense book he had between the both of you.
Maybe that’s why neither of you heard him when he walked in.
He was about to talk, his mouth remained open, but as soon as he saw you both, he stayed there. His body against the door frame, his arms crossed above his chest as he just looked, with the fondest stupidest smile on his lips as he saw just how much interest you had in whatever Dustin was talking to you about.
“So you can mix and match any classes and races?” You ask, Eddie's heart stops for a moment, he hadn’t realised you were talking about his game.
“Yeah, I mean if you were to play a bard which was…?” Dustin was questioning you, seeing if you remembered what he had just spent some time trying to explain to you.
“An unhinged rockstar that likes to tell stories.”
“So basically Eddie.” Dustin made the same joke again, making you giggle, whilst Eddie tried to hide his chuckle, wanting to know what you’d say without you knowing he was there.
“That’s my man.” You teased back, in a singing tone that made Dustin laugh as he looked back down at the book.
“Yeah, so, if you made your Bard a Half-Elf, it would automatically get a +2 to charisma, which is extremely useful to them.” He cheered, you nodded. You knew that Dustin was feeling a bit proud, as he was explaining these things to you.
“And they also get a +1 stat boost to other abilities.” Eddie finally chirped in, making his presence known.
He smiled widely, as he walked over to you. His arms falling to his side, his heart beating faster as if it were eager to finally be near yours.
“Hi.” You said, voice barely above a whisper as he got closer.
“Hi.” He answered, closing the distance between your lips with a quick peck.
Dustin was happy, seeing the way Eddie melted when you were close, he liked seeing his friend act like that. All soft, as opposed to the thought persona he had to give out when he was still in school, back when they met each other.
“Dustin was helping me understand your game.” You told him, eyes shining up at him. “But you’re the one he wants to ask stuff to, so… I’ll head home. See you soon Henderson.” You told the cap wearing boy, with a soft squeeze to his shoulder, he waved bye to you, looking as Eddie walked you to the door. “Lua’s been asleep for a while, so don’t worry about that.” You told him, getting a bit lost into him, which you were starting to realise you had no control over, when his eyes looked like chocolate pools under the moonlight.
“Have I told you how amazing you are?” He told you, pushing a small flock of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek with his thumb a bit longer than he really needed to.
You shook your head in disbelief, your eyes not letting go from his stare. You bite your lower lip, a bit from shame, a bit from childish excitement over kind words. He lowered his thumb, pulling your lip down so you wouldn’t bite it.
The delicate move, the roughness of his callused finger contradicting with the softness of it all, sends your body into overdrive.
Goosebumps not only filled your body, but his too. He felt it just as much as you need, the spark, the electricity, the fire. It screamed i need you, though sometimes, it seemed like it was screaming i love you, or rather i could love you if you let me.
“Why?” Is the only thing you could gather to ask, your voice shaking a bit from want, or need. Eddie felt like your voice was a velvety hug on his skin.
“Just, you really are.”
He kissed you. His thumb tilted your jaw upwards so he could reach your lips, even if it was a simple movement, it still made your head a bit dizzy. You took a step closer to him, amidst the kiss, so your waist would touch his, so you could get your hands on the back of his neck, burying them in his hair. Your tongues touch, and you feel out of breath. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling, he was too happy, and it was all thanks to you.
“Goodnight Moon.” You whispered into his ear, finally pulling away.
“Goodnight Princess.”
He could have stayed there, watching you leave forever, if it weren’t for Dustin’s soft teasing. A stream of oh lover boy! that came from inside the trailer, it couldn’t even bother him, not even a little bit.
Because deep down he knew, he was falling deep in love with you.
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if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3
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requests! are open
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part 4 is up, thank for the support dudes <3
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hey!! i loved ur handwritten fic with the notes it was absolutely amazing, do u think u could make a pt 2 of that or just another fic with that format? thank u!! <3
handwritten pt 2 - theo nott x reader
yours and theo's story as told through notes passed in class
Part 1 | Part 2
a/n - thank you so much for this lovely!! it gave me the motivation I needed to clean up the dribs and drabs I had drafted out so here it is <3 I have plans/ideas for future chapters too (similar format but might not be restricted to just notes 👀) but I'm not sure how long of a series it'll actually end up being. enjoy!
tropes/warnings - fluff, a little more angst than the last chapter, newstudent!theo, estranged friends to lovers
word count - 1.9k
Saturday, 9.48 pm, The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade
You okay?
Yeah, why?
You’re awfully quiet. And you’ve been staring into your empty butterbeer for the past ten minutes, so either it was terrible or you’re plotting something.
Ha-ha.
You hate this, don’t you?
They’re just not the kind of people I hang out with.
Let’s get out of here.
Are you kidding? This party is for you, Theo.
Look at them. They’re drunk off their tits. No one’s going to mind.
No, stay. I might call it a night soon, though.
Are you sure?
Yeah. Don't worry about me, I’m just not used to hanging out with these kinds of people.
What kind?
I don’t know. Quidditch players. Hooligans. It’s not really my scene.
I didn’t know you felt that way.
I didn’t want to spoil your night.
Listen, it’s getting late. I should probably head back.
Okay. Get your coat, I'll settle the bill.
No, it’s fine, I can pay for my drink. Besides, you should stay.
At least let me walk you back.
Stay. I mean it.
Fine, but I’m paying for your drink. And before you say anything, it’s one lousy butterbeer. Consider it compensation for ruining your evening.
You didn’t ruin my evening. I liked the part when we walked here together. I don’t mind this too much either - scribbling on napkins.
Let me walk you back. Please.
Saturday, 10.19 pm, Ravenclaw Dormitories, Hogwarts
What's with the notebook?
Sorry, Ivan's finally passed out and I don't want to wake him. He hasn't been able to sleep all week, can you imagine? It's that stupid Herbology project - y'know, the one that Katie's been simmering those mandrakes for - I swear, he's so tense in the shoulders. I finally got him to nod off after dinner and it just seems cruel to wake him up and make him go allll the way down to his dorm :(
Fine, but Merlin help you when Katie wakes up and finds him still here. I still can't wrap my head around how much he lets you baby him. He's a Slytherin, for God's sake.
Please, he knew what he was getting himself into. If anything, I think the babying might have been a motivating factor. Anyway, how was the party?
Okay, I think. I kissed him. On the cheek.
YOU'RE going to wake Ivan. Have some goddamn self-control.
OH I KNEW ITTT I knew it the moment he walked into Charms class and you looked up and your eyes met and you lost your tongue and when you looked back he had that shy sort of smile I just KNEW he was going to be so good for you. Because he is, Y/N. He might be the best thing that's happened to you.
Gosh, relax. It's not like it meant anything. What's a little friendly peck between friends here and there? I just did it so he wouldn't follow me back to the castle like a lost puppy. Besides, he's not that perfect.
A real human being with real human flaws? You don't say.
It's hard to explain. He's only being this nice because he knows what he's done.
What has he done?
Some pretty hard-to-forgive stuff. I don't want to get into it right now.
Have you?
Have I what?
Forgiven him.
I don't know. I mean, I see him trying to reach out, but every time, even now, with the party - something stops me from...fully connecting. Something holds me back.
I don't think I have.
Monday, 9.13 am, Charms
Did you get back alright?
Yup.
I wanted to come check, but the guys...
I told you they weren't going to let their guest of honour run off. So how was the rest of the night?
Middling. They started up a game of strip poker when we got back.
Oh.
Allegedly, normal poker was too ordinary for a night as special as that.
You're kidding, right?
Oh my fucking god, you gamble??
Who said the poker had anything to do with gambling?
So you don’t gamble?
I didn’t say that.
Theo.
OUCH enough with the pinching! I've already had ten years too many of it.
I can't help that it's the only way to get you to behave.
I don’t see what the problem is. It’s my money to use as I see fit. Plus, I'm very careful about the people I play with. Merlin knows we have too much anyway.
Unbelievable. Gambling, really? Why not just drop out of Hogwarts and live slot machine to slot machine, huh? Why don't you just set up shop at some casino in Las Vegas?
I'm very confused. Do you want to go to Vegas?
You have the attention span of a fruit fly.
Because that's not a half-bad idea. We could make a whole trip out of it over the summer.
Your friends need to introduce you to more legal forms of recreation. What are you doing Wednesday night?
Nothing yet.
Good. I'm teaching you Exploding Snap.
Isn't that a kid's game?
FUCK I'm SORRY but DO NOT pinch me in the same place twice.
Oh, quit whining. You'll live.
Barely. If you keep this up, I'm going to start sitting far far away from you and those PINCERS you call fingers.
Wednesday, 1.02 pm, Potions
I ran into Katie on the way here and Merlin, she was in hysterics. I'm out of the room for one night and I miss you making out with Loverboy in our dorm??? Geez, at least put a sock on the door.
We were not making out!!! Katie just walked in at an unfortunate time.
Uh-huh.
Look, he was the one who showed up at the window on his broom, drunk out of his mind.
Drunk??
I know! What was he thinking, risking his neck all the way up there at the Ravenclaw dorms?? It was like he didn't even notice too. I thought I was hallucinating at first, but then I opened the window and nope, that was him, and then I screamed and he nearly fell off his broom so I hauled him inside. He practically faceplanted on the floor. I was terrified - I thought he was poisoned or something, but then I tried to prop him up and he had this dopey look on his face and he reeked of firewhiskey. Ugh, it was so annoying. I don’t want to talk about it.
You know what he said to me? After all that?
I thought you didn’t want to talk about this?
Uh-oh.
Uh-oh?
Uh-oh. Like a goddamn Looney Tunes character.
Looney Tunes?
Never mind. He was all ‘uh-oh, you’re mad at me’ while I was trying to get him to drink some coffee and I was like yeah, no shit, you look like you’re seconds away from puking all over my dorm. And then he started…he started talking about the party, and me leaving, and how sorry he was he brought me in the first place.
Aww.
I know, right? I felt like crap. I didn’t think it would be such a big deal to him.
Of course it was a big deal. That was him introducing you to his new friends.
Exactly, new friends. What does he want with me?
Y/N, are you daft? Do you not see the way he looks at you? He so clearly cares what you think about his friends.
What on earth are you talking about?
Ivan's on the team so they hang out together sometimes and he says Theo's a lot different around you. He doesn't swear as much, he drops his voice a little and he's extra attentive. Hell, he nearly got into a fight with some dunce in our year over the way that guy was talking about you. Y/N, he obviously cares about you so, so much. Please tell me you didn’t say anything too harsh.
I called the whole lot of them hooligans.
NOOOOO
But t's true!! Have you seen their matches? How they don't rip each other to shreds is beyond me. But I didn't mean that he was like that. Theo could never be like them. He'd play a good, fair, clean game.
Yeah. Sure.
What's that supposed to mean?
You haven't watched a single one of his practices, have you?
No. Should I?
Never mind. What happened next?
That's when things started going downhill. He started trying to remove his shirt because it was so hot from Katie’s blasted simmering pot of mandrakes. I was trying to stop him, only he wasn’t listening, and apparently he gets rather clingy and touchy when he’s, y’know, tipsy, and then…Katie walked in.
Damn.
Of course that's when he decides to sober up, so I look like an idiot while everyone in the room - yes! even him!!! - wants to know what I’m doing in his lap. He was sooooo polite too, as if he hadn’t just rudely breaking-and-entering’d his way into my room. ‘Oh, hello, Y/N. What a tastefully decorated room you have, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re sitting so close, Y/N?’ As if I want to be sitting in his lap!
Right.
Because I don’t.
Okay.
‘Cause that would be so weird.
Mhm.
Like…ew.
Okay, okay. I get it. I believe you.
He wouldn’t even let me get up or anything. Just kept talking to Katie about the weather with his hand on my thigh, casual as ever. I swear, if that teammate of his - what's his name, Mattheo? - hadn't come looking for him, I don't know how I would have gotten him down to his dorm.
What a thriller of a story, from start to finish.
Yeah, well, I could do it with a little less thrill in my life.
Aw, I think it was sweet. That disaster of a party was clearly eating at him.
Yeah. I mean, we're friends. It should bother him if I've had a shitty night, right? But also...we're just friends.
For the record, you're a different person around him too.
Psh. Yeah right.
Different how?
Ivyyyy
Thursday, 3.07 pm, Defence Against the Dark Arts
How’s your hand?
Doing very badly, thank you very much.
I have to say, I didn’t take you to be this sore of a loser.
My fingertips have been singed off. Forgive me if I seem a little sulky.
Aww. Was the kid's game a little too hard for the big, manly, Quidditch player?
You tricked me. You didn't even tell me all of the rules before we started playing.
Oh, come on. You knew enough to play.
But not to win!
Yes, well, I wasn't about to hand you a victory on a silver platter. I thought Slytherins were supposed to be clever, or something. Maybe you're the 'something.'
Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We'll see who's laughing after next week's chess match.
Does it hurt a lot? Your fingers?
For a lesser man? Perhaps. I think I'm dealing with the pain quite well, actually.
So if we didn't have class, you'd be -?
Writhing on the floor of my dorm.
Ah, I see. Poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?
Promises, promises.
But you still had fun, didn’t you?
It is quite the adrenaline rush.
I knew it.
Alas, my fingertips…
Oh, sod off. You always were the biggest drama queen.
#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott angst#requests
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