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mcu-binge · 1 day ago

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Unspoken || Clark Kent x Reader ||

Pairing : Clark Kent x Reader Word count : ~2835

Summary : secret situationship clark kent x reader. you flirt back with someone new, clark short-circuits. cue petty office games

Tags/warnings : jealous!Clark, fluff, light smut (?)

A/N : Hellloooo I rewatched Twisters last night and I may or may not have written something inspired by David’s character Scott. Let me know if you would like to read it! Requests are still open feel free to send me one Clark Kent related or not!

=====================================

Daily Planet, 11:44 a.m.

You feel her before you hear her.

The intern. Madison. Or Madeline. Something with lip gloss and a fake laugh.

She floats past your desk again, third time this morning, armed with a stack of files she definitely doesn’t need help carrying.

You keep your eyes on your monitor. You’ve gotten good at pretending. Good at pretending a lot of things.

But you don’t miss the way her heels click to a stop at Clark’s desk.

“Oh my gosh, you’re seriously working through lunch again?” she coos, like it’s an original observation.

You can practically hear Clark smile. “I like to get ahead on edits. Makes Perry slightly less terrifying.”

She laughs way too loudly.

You tap your pen against your notepad. One, two, three. Breathe.

“You know,” she says, “I read that piece you did on the fires last month? The way you described the scene… it was like I was there.”

“Thanks,” Clark replies, gracious as ever. “It was a tough one to write.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. You’re so good with words.”

You look up then. Clark is smiling. Polite. Friendly. Maybe not flirting, but… not shutting it down either.

Your stomach knots not necessarily from insecurity, but from the quiet ache of knowing you don’t get to say anything. Not here. Not where people would ask questions.

Not where you’d have to admit that you snuck into his apartment last weekend and fell asleep wearing his flannel shirt. So you turn back to your screen. Focus. Breathe.

Until you hear her say “I don’t know how anyone expects me to get anything done with you sitting over there being all—” She lowers her voice. “Clark-y.”

You blink. Clark-y? What the hell does that even mean?

And that’s when you hear him laugh. Really laugh.

That’s it. That’s the crack. A fine, hairline fracture in whatever unspoken arrangement the two of you have been delicately well stupidly balancing.

You stand, a little too fast.

“I’m going to grab coffee,” you say, mostly to the air.

Clark looks up. “Want me to come with?”

“Nope.” You’re already walking away.

Behind you, the intern giggles again.

You’re back from the coffee run, to-go cup in hand and pride barely intact, when a voice stops you cold.

“Sorry—hold it right there. Light’s hitting you just right.”

You blink, turning toward the source.

He’s standing by the east-facing window, DSLR slung across his chest, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. Tousled hair, scruff like it’s grown in defiance, and the posture of someone who doesn’t know how not to be confident.

“I’m the new photographer,” he says, as if reading your mind. “Caleb.” He adds extending a polite hand to you

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously before shaking it. “And you just take candids of coworkers without asking?”

“Only when they look that good holding caffeine.”

It should make you roll your eyes. It should. But something inside you, the same something that had to endure Miss Clark-y 20 minutes ago nudges you to tilt your head, just a little and let him snap some photos.

You smirk just a little. It’s harmless. It’s fun. And most importantly, you know exactly who’s watching from the corner of the bullpen, hand halfway to his glasses like he’s pretending to clean them.

Clark.

He’s facing his screen, but his ears are pink. You know that pink.

“Anyway,” Caleb says, stepping back, “if I’m ever assigned to your stories, we should, uh, coordinate. Lunch maybe. Talk shop.”

You nod. “I’ll think about it.”

And just like that, he walks away. No lingering, no pushiness. Just a lingering impression and a very obvious audience.

You don’t even have to look to feel Clark’s gaze. Not just watching. Tracking.

You take one slow sip from your coffee and return to your desk like nothing happened. The rest of the work day drags on with you avoiding Clark's glances and heading straight home after.

Your phone buzzes just as you’re about to put it on Do Not Disturb.

Clark Kent

You hesitate. One beat. Two. Three. Then answer.

“Didn’t peg you as a night owl Mr. Kent,” you say, voice soft in the dark.

Clark chuckles. You can hear the faint rustle of his sheets. He’s in bed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says. “Thought I’d call my favorite insomniac.”

“Oh? And here I thought I was just your coworker.”

“You know better than that.”

There’s a pause a thick and warm and familiar one.

You let it hang a moment longer. “Hmmm… what’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know,” he says casually. “Just wondering how your day went. You were… smiley.”

You blink at the ceiling. “Am I not allowed to smile?”

“You are. It’s just…” He trails off. “New guy got you grinning like that on day one?”

You smirk, biting your bottom lip. “You mean Caleb?”

“Is that his name? I didn’t know; he didn’t come by and take my picture.”

You laugh. “You’re not even pretending to be subtle.”

“I’m just curious,” he says, too quickly. “Didn’t realize you liked… confident guys with man buns and vintage cameras.”

“He doesn’t wear a man bun, Clark. Is that jealousy I hear?”

“Nope.” He’s quiet for a second too long. “Just trying to figure out what your type is.”

You let that hang in the air.

“I don’t think I have a type,” you murmur. “But I do like when a guy makes an effort.”

He exhales. “I make an effort.”

“Do you?”

“Hey, I brought you soup when you were sick.”

“And I never said thank you properly.” Your voice softens, slow and warm. “You’re sweet, Clark.”

Another silence. Then “I don’t want to just be sweet.”

That does something to you.

You shift under your blankets, suddenly too aware of the sound of his voice through the line.

“So you’re calling me for a bedtime confession?”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Maybe. Or maybe I just… didn’t like seeing someone else flirt with you.”

“Why?”

“Because…” His voice dips lower. “I prefer being the reason you blush.”

You’re quiet.

Clark clears his throat like he said too much. “Anyway. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make this weird.”

“It’s not weird.”

Another pause.

“You make me act weird, you know that?” he says.

You smile into your pillow. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Clark laughs, soft and wrecked. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

“Sweet dreams.” He adds.

“Dream sweet and of me,” You add with a smile before hanging up.

—

You don’t expect anything when you walk in.

No follow-up to the flirt-heavy, “I don’t want to just be sweet” phone call. Just normal Clark behavior: polished, polite, maybe a little sheepish for opening up the way he did.

You definitely don’t expect your exact coffee order, oat milk, half pump vanilla, cinnamon on top sitting on your desk like it manifested from a dream.

You stop. Stare.

There’s a sticky note stuck to the lid:

Figured I owed you caffeine after that late call. – C

Your stomach flutters.

You barely have time to recover before Kat waltzes past, side-eyeing your cup.

“Oof. Is that from who I think it’s from?”

You shrug, playing dumb. “No idea.”

“Sure,” she snorts.

9:05 a.m.

You’ve just settled back at your desk when Clark appears. Not his usual notebook-in-hand work mode. He strolls in like he owns the place. His sleeves rolled to the elbows. Glasses on dangerously close to heartthrob-who-reads-poetry territory.

And he’s beaming. Like nothing in the world is wrong.

He leans against your desk, tilts his head. “Morning.”

You glance up. “Little late, aren’t you?”

He taps your empty coffee cup. “Thought I’d give you time to enjoy that first.”

You deadpan. “That’s suspiciously thoughtful.”

He lowers his voice. “Just making sure I stay your favorite.”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks betray you.

“Anyway,” he adds, dropping a paper bag in front of you, “they were out of your favorite muffin, so I brought you the second favorite. Blueberry and don’t pretend it’s not.”

That makes you smile. “You remembered that?”

“I remember a lot of things,” he says, voice dipping.

Before you can form a snappy comeback, he’s already walked off.

Kat peers around the divider again, mouthing: WHAT IS HAPPENING

You don’t answer. Mostly because you don’t know anymore.

1:12 p.m.

Caleb returns from an assignment and spots you in the copy room.

“Hey, smiley,” he says, stopping just short of the door. “You free for lunch?”

You open your mouth to respond friendly, casual, not flirty when a shadow moves behind you.

Clark appears out of nowhere, holding a takeout bag in one hand and a smug smile in the other.

“Ooof she’s booked. I grabbed lunch for us,” he says, breezy and bold. “Hope you’re still on your wings kick.”

You turn, confused. “You… ordered lunch?”

Clark nods. “Figured I’d beat the rush.”

He sets the bag down and for the first time in office history brushes his hand against the small of your back. Not obviously. Not possessively. Just enough.

“Sorry,” he says to Caleb. “Didn’t mean to step on your plans.”

Caleb blinks. “Oh. No worries. You guys enjoy.”

Clark just smiles and hands you a box of fries like a man very pleased with himself.

At 3:27 p.m. Flowers arrive.

It’s a small bouquet of wildflowers and peonies soft and subtle. There’s no note. Just a tiny card in the bottom of the vase with your initials. But the handwriting? You’d know it anywhere.

Kat is losing her mind.

“Girl. What is going on. Is this your boyfriend or a PR stunt?”

You laugh, half-exasperated, half-flushed. “It’s complicated.”

Clark walks past your desk with a mug of tea, glances at the flowers.

Then, audible enough to be overheard, he mutters, “Wonder who the lucky guy is.”

Kat actually squeals.

End of the day. The office is mostly empty. You go into the copy room to grab some print outs when Clark appears in the doorway. It’s quiet maybe a little too quiet. Like the building is holding its breath.

“I need to talk to you,” he says, low, almost careful.

You don’t look up. “Now’s not great.”

“Tough.” His voice drops. “I’ve been patient. That’s done.”

You freeze.

He walks in, not fast, but with purpose. Like every step is a choice. He doesn’t stop until he’s close.

“You smiled at him like he made your whole damn day.”

You scoff. “You mean the same way I’ve smiled at you for weeks?”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“I’m the one who knows how you take your coffee. I’m the one you call when you can’t sleep. I’m the one you wear flannel shirts from like we’re already—” He cuts himself off, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling.

You turn slowly, heart pounding, voice quieter. “Like we’re already what Clark?”

He stares at you. And it hurts. Because his eyes aren’t soft right now they’re hungry. Sharp. Bruised.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I do know I wanted to tear that camera out of his hands.”

You take a shaky breath. “You didn’t say anything.”

He exhales through his nose. “Because if I said anything, I was gonna say everything.”

You blink. “Then say it.”

He moves. One step. Then another. Until you’re backed up against the copy machine, the hum of it echoing your pulse.

“I want you,” he murmurs. “Not just late at night. Not just when no one’s looking.”

His hand grazes your wrist barely, but it sets your whole body on fire.

“I want to touch you whenever I want,” he says. “I want to sit in meetings and watch you try not to look at me. I want to take you to lunch and not pretend it’s platonic.”

You exhale shakily. “Then why haven’t you?”

His jaw ticks. His eyes flicker down to your mouth, then back up like it physically hurts him to look at you.

“Because…” he starts, voice low, tight, “I won’t be pretending. And if people know—if they connect us—then you’re not just some coworker anymore. You’re a target.”

You blink, a little thrown. “What?”

He swallows hard. “I interview Superman. People already watch me too closely. There’ve been threats before anonymous calls, notes, people trying to leverage my contacts. And if anyone figures out what you are to me—” His voice catches. “I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt because of me.”

The air between you thickens. Not with fear, but with feeling. Sharp and aching and all-consuming.

“Clark,” you whisper, stepping into him, hand curling around his forearm. “I don’t care.”

“You should.”

“But I don’t.” You shake your head. “I care about you. I’ve been waiting for you to say something—anything—but all I’ve ever wanted was for you to want me out loud.”

He looks down at your lips then your eyes and suddenly he starts leaning into your like gravity, hands finding your waist, your hips, hauling you into him like he needs to feel every word he can’t say. It’s clumsy, frantic, desperate.

You stumble backwards hitting the copy machine. He palms blindly resting his hands on it, never breaking the kiss, never loosening his grip.

“You drive me crazy,” he breathes against your mouth.

“Ditto” you gasp, already tugging at his tie, his shirt, anything to get closer.

He lifts you with a groan, setting you down on the copy machine like you belong there, like he’s dreamed of this a thousand times. His kisses trail down your neck, hot and open-mouthed, like he’s memorizing you with lips and tongue.

“This is reckless,” he mutters, voice hoarse.

You curl your fingers into his hair. “You started it.”

He huffs a shaky laugh, then bites back a moan when you tug him in tighter. “I want you.”

“Then take me.”

His lips press against yours tongue begging to be let in, and there’s no more talking. Just moaning. Gasping. Your skirt is hiked up bunched at your thighs. You hastily unbutton his pants desperate to feel him. Desperate friction. You stroke his cock hungrily. His hand comes down moving your panties to the side. His name gasped against his shoulder as he moves inside you, forehead pressed to yours like prayer, like apology, like finally.

There’s nothing gentle about it just months of buried tension erupting into something real and raw and undeniable. His hands move your hips holding you tightly as he relentlessly thrusts into you. You lean back against the copy machine unable to keep yourself up anymore. He takes the chance and lets his hands explore every part of you.

And when it’s over when you’re clinging to him, lips swollen, heartbeat skittering against his chest. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“No more pretending” he whispers against your forehead

You smile, “No more.” You whisper back breathlessly

—

The next morning the morning air is crisp. City traffic hums in the background. You round the corner, distractedly tugging your scarf tighter, and nearly walk past him.

Clark. Leaning casually against the brick column like he’s in a cologne ad. Two coffees in hand. Hair a little windswept. Tie crooked in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

You stop short. He lifts your coffee and gives you that smile. The private one. The I didn’t sleep much thinking about you one.

“Good Morning,” he says, voice soft. “Brought reinforcements.”

You take the cup and stare at him for a beat. “You waited for me?”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Didn’t want to walk in alone.”

You glance at the Planet’s doors, then back at him. “You okay?”

“I’m great.” He bumps your shoulder. “Last night was… clarifying.”

You laugh under your breath, cheeks warm. “You mean wildly overdue?”

He grins. “That too.”

You sip your coffee, then glance sideways at him. “You sure about this?”

Clark’s eyes drop to your mouth, then back to your eyes. “More sure than I’ve been about anything in a long time.”

He opens the door for you, lets you step inside first, hand gently pressed to your lower back like it’s second nature. It sends a chill up your spine, but not in a bad way.

You walk toward your desk side by side, your steps synced, conversation light. And then, right there, in full view of Kat, Perry, Jimmy, and every nosy intern with a crush, Clark does something unthinkable. He leans in.

Not dramatic. Not flashy. Just casual, confident, and real. He presses a soft, slow kiss to your lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” he murmurs, like it’s been your routine for years.

Then he walks off. Calm. Collected. Definitely smirking.

You’re frozen.

The bullpen? Silent.

Kat’s jaw is on the floor. The intern drops her pen. Perry mutters something about “finally.”

You sit down slowly, heart hammering in your chest, still holding your coffee like it’s the only solid thing in the world.

Kat leans in, eyes wide. “What the actual hell just happened.”

You take a breath. Smile.

“Clark Kent just hard-launched me to the entire newsroom.”

484 notes · View notes

tbaluver · 2 days ago

Note

omg hi! first and foremost, I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS LIKE THEY LITERALLY HAVE ME KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR, since i especially loved your lads dad genre, i was wondering if you would like to write about a situation that i came across tiktok just now, BUT YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO IT IF YOU WANT TO! idk why but my baby fever is really taking a toll on me, and i would love to read more fluff that would instantly melt my heart hehe <333 hope you are doing well!

this is the link of the tiktok hehe: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSSY4VH8f/

Sending Them A Mama + Baby Pic- The Love And DeepSpace Men

featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi luv ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ THANK YEW SM MWAH perhaps im doing my job right ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ im doing well and i hope you are too ! and are you kidding me I LOVEEE writing them as papas whenever i can ! they would be perfect dads I JUST KNOW IT however i hope i did this justice (•̀ᴗ•́ )و anyways enjoy reading my luvs (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The mission he was on felt like an eternity. His mind often drifted to how he could have you and his baby boy in his arms right now. And as if you read his mind, the notification ping grabbed his attention. His expression softens the moment he opens the photo of you and your baby boy. It looks like your son had just woken up, with messy hair and a sleepy smile on his face. A quiet laugh slips from his lips and he didn’t realize how much he missed you both until now. All he can think about is how adorable the two of you look together and how much longer he has in this mission to be there with you both.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: Did U guys have a good nap?

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: He must be really happy to wake up and see U

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: Can I join U guys too

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: I’ll bring snacks

Zayne:

He might just be the happiest man on break in the whole hospital right now. It's as if the weight on his shoulders were lifted the moment he sees you two curled up together and greeting him with a smile. He’s already saving the photo(s), depending on how many you sent. There’s a good chance one is becoming his lockscreen, homescreen, or even your contact photo. That way, every time you call or message him, he’s reminded of his beautiful wife and daughter.

☃︎: She seems to be in a good mood.

☃︎: That would only make sense because you’re there with her. I would react the same as well.

☃︎: She must’ve gotten that from me.

Rafayel:

There’s a big pout and watery eyes on this fishie’s face from the cuteness of the pictures you sent, all while he’s stuck in public at this stupid art exhibition Thomas dragged him to. Eventually, Thomas scolds him for not mingling with the guest since that could potentially mean fewer sales, but Rafayel couldn’t care less. His beloved wife and his lil glubs are always his first priority. He manages to slip away from everyone to text you back, but most likely will facetime you right after.

𓆟: cutie why do you all have to extraa cute when i'm not there .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.

𓆟: *sends a pouting papa rafayel pic*

𓆟: here make sure to show them this so they don’t forget me too

𓆟: and tell my lil glubs i miss them so so much ( ᵒ ૩ᵕ )♡*

Sylus:

Sylus sits bored and uninterested, watching the other members he’s negotiating with huddle together, whispering as they scramble to come up with a way to convince him to take the deal. He waits patiently, tapping the side of his whiskey glass until a ping pulls his attention to his phone. A soft chuckle escapes past his lips as he opens it and finds a photo of you and his baby girl lying together. He thinks it's adorable, from the way his baby girl shows off her gummy smile at you instead of facing the camera. He smiles to himself that the negotiators might mistake it as if he's ready to seal the deal. He looks at the photo in awe, zooming in as close as he can, his eyes and heart softening at the sight of the two of you.

𓅪: Our little dove seems to be interested in shiny things lately.

𓅪: And look at that. She’s more interested in you than the camera.

𓅪: You must be glowing more than usual sweetie.

Caleb:

This man LOVES being a father and a husband so much. The moment he catches a glimpse of the notification and sees two familiar figures he cherishes more than anything in the world, he puts the ship on autopilot. Without hesitation, he swipes up to open the photo to be greeted by his two babies, you and your son, smiling back at him. He looks at the picture in absolute awe, his heart throbbing like it might explode. He thinks this one might top every single baby photo ever ( he says this every time a new photo comes out )

✈︎: i’ve been staring at this pic for a while and it’s making me sad ):

✈︎: i might land at the next stop and fly myself back

✈︎: and join you guys :D

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯:

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

ʚɞ Others places you can find me:

Wattpad

Twitter ( but idk how to use it or interact with people )

570 notes · View notes

grrrdino · 2 days ago

Note

your writing style is sooo beautiful <33 would you be able to do a one shot of ellie and reader trying something in sex for the first time so it has vulnerability & comfort? e.g, tribbing, strapping etc. (whatever you choose) i love your work💗💗

ellie strapping you for the first time.

mdni! nsfw!

the light from ellie's old lamp illuminates the left side of her face, and you can see how focused she is. her hands are on your full thighs, even the marks of her fingers pressed into your skin for longer than necessary. she was holding you for dear life.

you never thought this would happen. but ellie seemed pretty into the idea, and once you agreed too, you both ordered the first strap-on. even talked with her about who should wear it first. but it was a weak attempt at trying to turn things around. ellie just told you it would be her.

so now you were resting against the pillows on her bed, the sheet crumpled beneath you, your gasps and moans filling the entire garage like a need. ellie kept her fingers inside you, making the 'come here' motion with them, stimulating.

"almost there, babe."

ellie whispered against your ear, trailing kisses down your neck, near your jaw. she was working on turning you into a needy mess, preparing you. "fuckk, you're dripping." she added.

you were close to cum a second time thanks to her fingers, but ellie pulled away just seconds before; your lips let out a sound of disappointment, of need. you could watch as ellie smiled at that. silent, enjoying it.

you recovered your breath, knees up to your chest, your head against the headboard. you felt inexperienced like the first times with ellie. you saw the moment when she bent down to reach a box under the bed, doing the whole ritual of putting on the strap even over her gray boxers.

"you look..." you whispered, a light blush rising on your cheeks, watching as ellie adjusted the straps and crawled back onto the bed with you.

ellie noticed—you were nervous—more than you thought you would be. she kissed your right knee, spreading your legs again softly as she looked into your eyes. "tell me if it's too much. we don't have to do this if you don't want to." ...

"i'll take it out and have you sit on my face until you're wasted, u know." she whispered.

you smiled, your heart was racing, and shit, yeah, you were nervous, but her eyes dulled any angst in your chest, and you wanted it—wanted to try this.

your hands went to her hair, held in that signature bun, and you stroked it.

"no, no—i'm okay. i... want you inside me." you whispered. relentlessly sly, and ellie let out a low murmur, her eyes darkening, she looked worked up.

in a few seconds, you were settled back into the pillows, your hair spreading like a river over them as you opened your legs for ellie. her fingers returned to your pussy, slow and gentle, smiling halfway down at you, and that was enough to make your legs go numb.

ellie used all the wetness in your pussy and brought the dildo towards your slit, she looked into your eyes for a few seconds before—and with that she began to rub the tip of it up and down, slow and controlled.

"listen to that— you can't imagine how hot you look from here." ellie snorted, her cheeks completely red.

you gasped, your hand on the blanket underneath, spreading your legs wider as you looked into ellie's eyes. she flicked your clit with the tip, running the entire length through your folds to lub everything.

her eyes connected with yours when you finally felt that pressure between your legs, ellie slowly entering you. she didn't take her gaze off you, focused, taking care of you in the process.

"wait..." you moaned as you kept your legs spread, the dildo only halfway inside you. you were trying to get used to the feeling.

ellie leaned into you, supporting her entire weight with her arms on either side of your head. her hips didn't move; instead, her lips moved down to your breasts, beginning to place kisses there...

"easy... you're doing so well, i can feel this pussy squeezing me."

of course she couldn't feel you, but could you blame her? ellie was addicted to the knowledge that she was fucking you like this, her boxers were just as damp as you were, and she was excellent at words when the pleasure messed her head.

ellie's lips swirled around one of your nipples, sucking fervently, her tongue darting out to circle it, her puppy dog eyes never leaving yours.

"look at me, babe. i'm going to lick these tits and fuck you so good, i promise..."

that was all it took to bring your hands to her lower back, pushing against her—letting her know to keep going. your moans were low, trying to control yourself. but it was overwhelming when ellie was fully inside you, stretching you out for the first time. your gasps were in her ear, your arms on her back, holding you up.

"m—move please...ellie." you gasped. and so she did.

she didn't even hide it, reaching up to take your left leg and lift it over her shoulder, starting a deep, slow rhythm.

"taking me so deep, fuck—look at that..." ellie said in an airy tone, panting with her gaze glued to where the deep blue dildo entered you, it looked tight.

both of you couldn't stop looking at each other, not even when ellie started going faster, her hips moving in seconds, taking your other leg to lift it onto her hip, the angle allowing her to go so deep.

and you felt full, as if you couldn't breathe, your insides churned and you had lost your modesty a long time ago, your back arched, your breasts bouncing rapidly with ellie's thrusts.

and don't even mention your moans, high-pitched chants that reached ellie's ears, making her go even faster. "i wanna fill you up, you're so damn beautiful..."

again, the impossible things came out of her mouth, but they only turned you even more, squeezing around the dildo, tilting your head slightly to the side. completely screwed.

"holy— those tits have never looked better," ellie blurted out, and by this point she was loose-mouthed, saying the first thing that came to mind. her hand on your ass, and since it was the first time, she wasn't willing to give you a light spank—even if she wanted to—but you knew her intentions when her hand flexed against one of your cheeks, holding it reverently.

the rhythm was so much that the headboard of ellie's bed began to hit the wall of her room, your face slightly buried in her pillow and you couldn't even warn when you felt your legs weaken, your abdomen contract and your vision completely blurry, a moan with her name decorated the four walls. "ellie! jesus—" you almost screamed.

ellie stopped her pace, a layer of sweat on her forehead, her gaze dropping to your pussy, and with one last thrust she could do nothing but gently collapse on top of you.

her face was buried in the middle of your breasts, eyes closed, still buried in you.

"i swear i love you so fucking much," ellie whispered, as if a switch had been turned off and another on. her lips brushed the curve of your left breast, inhaling.

"next time it's your turn." you whispered against her forehead.

"no way, not when i already know how it feels to fuck you like this." she said murmured.

eventually you knew she would say yes, at the end of the day— this wasn't gonna be the last time.

(okay so i tried to be likeee vulnerable but this turned out to be a little more freaky that i intended, i apologize heh. anyways thank u sm for your req!!!! appreciate it<3 sending u a virtual hug. 🫂)

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sushirrrry · 2 days ago

Text

READ PART ONE: CASA AMOR READ PART TWO: CRASH OUT READ PART THREE: TRUTH OR DARE

TONIGHT ON LOVE ISLAND...

PART FOUR | RECOUPLING || a harry styles x you love island series. word count: 9,892 content warning: tension & arguments & love island antics

summary: y/n and william take their first date; harry tries to pull everything back together, but he seemingly gets tangled when someone else gets involved. a love square, if you will.

author’s note: this has been so fun to write, and I'm so glad that you guys still care - I receive messages about this daily, so I thank you for waiting for the next update <3

A REMINDER OF THE COUPLINGS…

Catie and William are single bombshells.

{BEACH DATE – Y/N AND WILLIAM}

It was the kind of day you’d dream about in winter with a large blue sky above you, no clouds, warm breeze, the waves rolling in like they had nowhere else to be except greeting you.

The jeep pulled to a stop at the top of a rocky path that curved down toward a tucked-away patch of sand. Below, a perfect little picnic had been set up under a swaying canopy of white linen. There were pillows, a low table with a basket, a chilled bottle of rosé, and two glasses catching the light.

You laughed as you climbed out of the jeep, shielding your eyes. “Think this may be one of the prettiest dates I’ve ever been on.”

William grinned, turning to look over at you. “Right? Really going out with this one.”

You followed him down the path barefoot, your sandals in hand. The sand was already hot, soft beneath your feet. The whole scene felt easy, like something you could fall into if you weren’t careful—you were always careful now, you supposed.

He held out a hand gallantly as you stepped onto the picnic blanket. “M’lady.”

You rolled your eyes but took it anyway, settling onto the pillows with a small smile, maybe even a little pity of a laugh leaving your lips. “So, this is what getting chosen feels like.”

“’Couse someone would pick you,” he said, settling opposite you and uncorking the wine with a steady pop trailing after. “Now we just pretend the cameras aren’t here and talk like we’re on our second date and already secretly obsessed with each other.”

“Great,” you said, accepting the glass he handed you as you tuck a bit of hair that’s flying in your face from the breeze. “Love me a bit of delusion.”

He laughed, leaning back on one elbow. “Alright, then. Let’s start easy—what are you actually looking for in here?”

You took in a breath, licking over your lips as you took a small sip from your glass, “Big questions, Willy.”

“We’re in paradise surrounded by these snacks,” He gestured, “We can handle it, I think.”

You thought for a second, sipping your wine. “I think I’m looking for someone who feels… peaceful. Not boring—just calm. Like I don’t have to audition every time I open my mouth.”

William nodded, serious for a moment. “Someone you can exhale around, then.”

“Exactly.” You tell him, pursing your lips as you move to get more comfortable.

He smiled at that, his nose scrunching a bit under his sunglasses. “Well said.”

“What about you?” you asked, curiosity ringing off of your tone.

He shrugged, reaching for a piece of fruit from the platter between you. “Someone I can be stupid with, have a laugh with,” He pauses, poking his tongue in his cheek, “But also someone I’d actually miss if they were gone. I don’t think I’ve had that in a while.”

You watched him for a beat, thoughtful, you nod in acknowledgement. “So, you’re open to finding something real here?”

He looked at you like the question didn’t scare him. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Might as well try, right?”

You nodded slowly, trying to not think about what may have been going on at the villa without you. “Yeah. Same.”

He popped a grape into his mouth and grinned. “Okay, now that we’ve gotten all deep and meaningful—tell me the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“Oh no,” you groaned, already laughing as you covered your mouth. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on,” he teased; his tone was light and flirty and had your stomach in butterflies that you just couldn’t understand. “You owe me for that heartfelt moment.”

You shook your head, biting back a grin as you pushed your sunglasses up on your face. “Fine. But if I tell you, you gotta’ tell me yours. And yours better be worse.”

“No promises.”

{IN A CONFESSIONAL – Y/N}

The camera cuts to you later that day, sitting in the beachside confessional hut, wind-tangled hair and pink cheeks from too much sun and smiling.

“William is honestly… such a breath of fresh air. He’s easy to talk to, so funny, and just gets it. Like, we’re on the same page—he’s open, but not pushy, and I feel like I can actually relax around him. It’s weird—like the whole villa faded for a second, and it was just us. It was really nice.”

You pause, cheeks warming again as you remembered it so fondly.

“I wasn’t expecting to like him this much. But now… I don’t know. I’m kind of hoping he wants to get to know me more.”

You glance to the side, then back at the camera with a small, knowing smile.

“I definitely wouldn’t be mad if he pulled me for a few chats.”

{NARRATOR}

“While Y/N’s off having her romantic picnic fantasy with William and drinking rosé by the sea… back at the villa, someone’s having a slightly less relaxing afternoon.”

Harry sits on the edge of the pool, legs dangling off the side and into the water, sunglasses in his hand, running his thumb over the frame like it’ll help him think but he just can’t help the annoying feeling that sits on his chest.

He huffs out, like it’ll somehow help him and make him feel better.

Ella settles next to him with a sigh, water bottle in her hand as she adjusts the straps of her bikini before she looks over at Harry. “You alright?”

“No,” Harry admits, eyes still on the horizon. “I fucked it.”

Tiana joins them, behind Ella, kneeling to tie her sandal before looking up. “Don’t we all.”

“Always is.”

Ella crosses her arms as she moves to sit next to Harry. “Then what are you doing with Tash still? You should just focus on Y/N if you’re going to sit here and pout.”

Harry exhales like he’s been holding it in all day, but he’s really just having a bit of moment where he knows that’s losing what he really wants. “I panicked. I didn’t think Y/N would want me after all the games, after how I acted. I tried to… I don’t know, distract myself, I guess.”

“She’s not a distraction kind of girl,” Tiana says gently, scrunching her nose.

“I know,” Harry says quickly, thinking. “And I didn’t mean it like that. I just—she doesn’t trust me. Not anymore. And I don’t blame her.”

Ella rests her hand on his shoulder. “Then fix it. Don’t mope around the villa staring at her like a kicked puppy, ‘t’s not a good look. Be honest.”

“She’s on a date with William right now.”

Tiana gives him a look, shaking her head. “Exactly. You don’t have time to sit around hoping the universe sorts it for you.”

Harry nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to tell her I messed up and that I still care. But if I say that and she doesn’t feel the same…”

Ella cuts in, firm: “Then you take it, because she deserves to also make a choice that could potentially benefit her. But at least she’ll know you meant it. Then, you’ll have to have a conversation with Tash about it all too.”

{LATER – THE RETURN TO THE VILLA}

The four of you – Luca, Catie, you and William—find yourselves walking back through the garden gate, laughter from the ride still buzzing in your chest. Luca’s arm is around Catie’s shoulders, and William opens the gate for you with a boyish, “After you.”

Everything looks the same around but feels different.

And then you see him. Harry. Sitting on the daybed near the firepit, head tilted back, fingers twisting a bracelet you recognize as one of Ella’s many that she carried around and made for everyone. When he hears the gate creak, his gaze snaps toward the entrance.

He clocks you instantly, his eyes and attention focus on the fact that the four of you had returned. His posture shifts, jaw tight, like the sight of you next to William scraped something raw.

You ignore it—for now, because it’s much easier than processing that you see an immediate person focusing on you. William gives you a light nudge as you pause near the pool. “Thanks for today.”

You smile back at him. “It was… really nice, thank you. Relaxing, surely.”

He doesn’t kiss you—just smiles, squeezes your hand, and walks toward the kitchen with Luca, going to talk to all the other boys. You feel lighter, seeing Ella and Tiana in your vision like they want to get to you. But it’s Harry walking toward you that grabs your attention almost before you can take another breath.

You have barely made it back in one piece before you watch him take his opportunity.

“Can I—can I pull you for a chat?”

His curls are messier than usual, like he’s been running his hands through them all day. He’s not smirking, there’s no teasing. Just him standing there with a hopefulness that starts to ooze from him, an itching like he can’t stand not being around. Like he can’t stand that he doesn’t know what happened on the date.

“How was your date?” He asks after a moment, walking next to you. You don’t want to give any details that would feel disrespectful to William, so you shrug and clear your throat.

“I—I mean, it was good. We went to the beach, had a little picnic,” You raise your brows at him, noticing that he’s staring at you with a fixation that makes you squirm under his gaze, “A Manchester boy, you know. Cheeky, a bit of a laugh.”

Harry’s lips quiver into a small smile, “You like ‘em like that, huh?”

You push your sunglasses up your nose with a small smirk, “Guess that’s what the universe is trying to tell me.” You nod, unsure why your heart’s already sprinting at the way that he’s not saying everything he wants to.

He leads you around the corner of the garden to the small bench by the lemon trees—away from everyone, but not hidden, especially from the kitchen where many people are gathered. He doesn’t sit right away. You can see that he lets you pick where you want to sit before he just stands there, shifting on his feet.

He finally looks at you. Really looks at you.

“I know I’ve been acting weird,” he starts. “And I know I don’t really deserve your time right now, but I need to say something before it gets worse.”

Your arms cross over your chest, not out of anger—just to keep your heart from spilling.

“Okay.”

He swallows hard. “You don’t trust me anymore. And that’s my fault. I—” He huffs a breath. “I picked the safe option. I thought if I went for someone easier, it wouldn’t hurt as much if it didn’t work out. But I haven’t stopped thinking about our connection. Not for a second.”

You blink, heart hammering in your chest as you shake your head. It’s almost too much—you’re trying to process going on the date, then seeing Harry immediately when you enter back.

“Harry—”

“No, let me finish, please.” He goes to sit, voice quieter now. “I didn’t know how to handle how real it felt with you. I still don’t. But today, seeing you come back from that date… smiling with someone else…”

You tilt your head, giving him a quiet headshake as you feel incredulous, “Jealousy isn’t the same as having a connection.”

“I know that,” he says quickly, shaking his head to remind you that’s not what he meant. “It’s not just that. It’s—when I’m not with you, I’m still looking for you, and I just—I know you have other options to explore now, but I just don’t want you to take this off the table, for now. I never wanted it off the table in the first place.”

You stay silent, mostly because you don’t know what to say to that.

He sighs again, a little breathless almost like he’s fighting to just sit there with you. “I’m not asking you to forgive me or fall back into anything right away. I just needed you to know that I never stopped choosing you. Even when I looked like I did.”

You study him as if the more you read, the more you’ll learn about him. He looks… wrecked, hopeful. Boyish in a way that makes something soft ache in your chest.

“You broke my trust, Harry,” you whisper, pulling your lips into your mouth as you shake your head, “I—I just need to think for a bit about it, you know. Don’t really know where this is coming from.”

“I’ll just have to earn it,” he says immediately. “Day by day. I’ll prove it, if you let me.”

You hesitate, then nod once. You aren’t giving everything—but giving him a chance, it’s the least you can do.

He smiles, barely, like it hurts to leave under these conditions.

“Uh, can I – I’d just like a minute, it’s that’s okay.” You swallow, heat rising in your chest as you lay against the day bed and pick your hair off your neck, twisting it into a knot.

There are a few moments where Harry stares at you, but then nods, respecting it. “Sure.”

There’s a finality with that before he lingers a moment, almost like he wants you to change your mind. But, instead, he moves to start the walk back toward the kitchen—slowly, glancing back only once.

You watch the sun sink lower in the sky. And for the first time in days, your chest doesn’t feel so heavy.

{IN A CONFESSIONAL – Y/N}

The camera cuts to you, sitting in the private confessional hut, knees tucked up on the seat, your arms loosely wrapped around them. Your hair’s still slightly wind-mussed from the breeze earlier, and there’s a flushed glow on your cheeks—not from sunburn, but from too many thoughts colliding all at once.

You let out a quiet laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“I don’t really know what just happened.”

You pause, looking off to the side, chewing the inside of your cheek for a beat.

“I mean, I do. Harry said all the right things. He said things I thought I wanted to hear. And if he’d said them the day he came back from Casa—maybe I would’ve run to him. Maybe I would’ve believed it straight away.”

Your eyes flick back to the camera, shaking your head.

“But now? It’s hard. He broke my trust. And trust isn’t just… something you hand back like a forgotten hoodie. It’s something you have to rebuild piece by piece. I’m not sure he understands that yet, especially because he was so quick to move on with Tash.”

You shift slightly, pulling your ponytail tighter.

“And then there’s William.”

Your face softens a little, and you feel your tone shift.

“I wasn’t expecting that date to feel like that. He made it easy—he made me laugh. He asked real questions but didn’t press too hard, and for the first time since I got here, I didn’t feel like I had to brace for something underneath the flirting. It was just… really nice.”

A quiet smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

“I want to keep seeing where that could go. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I do know I’m not closing the door on someone who’s already showing up for me.”

You pause again, shoulders rising as you take a slow breath.

“Harry says he wants to earn my trust back—day by day. Fine. But I’m not waiting around this time. If he wants to prove it, he’s going to have to do that with more than just words.”

You glance away again, nodding to yourself once.

“I’m open. But I’m not naïve.”

{IN THE VILLA – EVENING}

The sun had slipped behind the hills hours ago, but the air still clung warm to your skin. The villa prepared for the evening cocktail hour; the girls sprayed their perfume; their mascara flicked flawlessly through their lashes before everyone started to come down to the main garden.

Harry and Luca entered together, Mitch following behind him.

You sat on the daybeds with Ella and Tiana, dressed in one of your favorite evening fits—butter yellow satin tied at the shoulders, heels already kicked off. Candles glowed in low glass holders across the garden, and soft music played from the outdoor speaker, but none of it matched the storm sitting in your chest.

You curled your legs beneath you, fingers absently picking at the hem of your skirt that laid against your thighs.

“I meant to tell him I was done…” your voice was quiet, slightly frayed as you try and keep the conversation contained to you three. “I really did.”

Ella nudged your knee with hers. “But he got to you. That’s allowed—I mean, you guys had a connection day one and have been inseparable.”

Tiana, perched beside her with a glass of Prosecco, added without missing a beat, “Doesn’t mean he gets you. Not unless he proves he’s worth it.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together. The words stuck with you—sharp and true.

Across the villa, the kitchen lights cast a soft yellow glow. William stood there with Luca, both nursing water bottles like they were trying to drown whatever feelings they weren’t saying out loud. William’s eyes were on you, and you could feel the guilt that had started to form in your chest.

“She’s not mine,” he said, voice low, quiet enough to keep between them. “Not really. But I’d still choose her—I’m definitely looking to move with that connection, but I feel that she’s still reserved.”

Luca leaned against the counter, tossing the cap of his bottle back and forth between his hands. “Then, you better mean it. Harry screwed it up—I think you have a chance if you really move in.”

William didn’t answer. Just nodded once, jaw tightening.

“You know the status of him and Tash?” William asks quietly, before he looks around.

Luca takes in a breath before he looks at the way that Tash moves through the garden with the white against her bronzed skin, hair down past her shoulders.

“Haven’t talked with him—I know he was keeping his options open, which is why he brought her back. But I don’t know if he’s made a choice yet, but I think that may fuck him over, ya’know what I mean?”

Back in the garden, Harry sat alone on the edge of the firepit, staring into the flames like they might offer answers if he continued to stare at it blankly. He hadn’t spoken to you since earlier—since that half-confession, since the moment he asked for a chance, and you didn’t give him a clean no. He hadn’t followed up, and hadn’t tried to chase it.

But now, as Tash passed by with a drink in hand and a silky dress that caught the breeze just right, his eyes met hers as he gave her a solemn smile.

“Oi,” he called out casually, smirking at her as she was looking as if she was going to pass him by, “Company?”

Tash glanced back, raising an eyebrow, then smiled. She knew what she was doing, and getting his attention was what she had wanted. “Always.”

His eyes followed the way that she walked from one of the side sofas and sank beside him, suddenly relaxed—too relaxed. For a moment, they just sat there, both staring out at the firepit as if they weren’t trying to be noticed.

Then Tash broke the silence, lifting her drink. “So, cheers to second chances, huh?”

Harry let out a low chuckle as he turned to look at her—that was his first mistake. The way that her eyes caught him was enough for him to force himself to look away. “Think I’m on my third at this point.”

“Third this week,” she teased him with a bite of her lip. “Maybe with me, maybe with others. You’re so naughty I lose count.”

He laughed again—shoulders actually shaking this time, head falling back with the kind of grin that used to make girls lean in closer. It was all so easy for him—too easy. And the wrong kind of loud.

“I should be banned from emotional chats,” he told her softly. “I always sound like I’m trying to win an Oscar.”

Tash smirked, taking a sip of her prosecco as she leaned closer to him. “You do get a bit dramatic. Not gonna lie.”

“Me?” he blinked back at her with a dramatic spin, “I’m chill.”

“You’re chaos,” she replied smoothly, clinking her glass against his. “But entertaining.”

He grinned, dimples on display as he rolled his eyes playfully. “Entertaining’s all I’ve got going for me right now.”

Tash tilted her head, eyes narrow with something sly. “Hm, don’t know about that—think you could probably be more than just entertaining.”

That line hung in the air for a second longer than necessary. Then—his hand moved with a barely there flick of a movement. A subtle brush of fingers along her knee, like he was grounding himself, or performing. Or both.

Tash didn’t flinch. Just glanced down and then back up at him with a slow, practiced smile.

It didn’t go unnoticed—it certainly didn’t go unnoticed.

Ella scoffed beside you on the daybed as you all stared at the conversation by the firepit. “He’s joking, right?”

You didn’t answer, but your expression must’ve said enough. Tiana just stared at the scene across the garden; lips pressed into a hard line.

Harry hadn’t looked your way in a while, not since the chat earlier. Not really since you’d told him you needed time, that you didn’t know where all of this was suddenly coming from; that he’d broken your trust, and you needed a moment.

Now he sat on the edge of the sofa beside Tash, all easy laughter and relaxed body language, like he hadn’t poured his heart out to you in the garden. It was like he wasn’t pacing himself through damage control with two girls on either side of the story.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye from the daybeds, trying not to care. But the way his hand casually brushed Tash’s knee was hard to ignore.

Ella let out a slow exhale beside you. “This boy… watch him, watch him.”

Tiana didn’t say anything, but her stare could’ve sliced glass. Then came movement—someone else moving to the firepit, almost like there was a bounty on who could pull Harry the most times.

Megan had been hovering all night, but now she started to cross the lawn with the confidence of someone who’d been waiting for an opening. A drink in hand, gloss perfect, eyes locked on the firepit. Ella saw it happening before, gasping slightly at watching the interaction.

“Oh no.”

She moved from where she’d been sitting with the girls near the kitchen, crossing the lawn slowly, her hips swaying with the kind of confidence that made the entire villa track her progress. Her hair caught the glow of the garden lights, her drink still in hand as she maneuvered her way, with her heels.

You felt it before you saw it—the shift.

Tiana turned toward you with wide eyes. “Wait. No way.”

Megan reached the sofas where Harry and Tash sat, leaned forward slightly, and rested her hand on the back of the seat behind Harry.

“Can I pull you for a chat?” she asked, voice smooth, low, like it was already a secret. Harry blinked, almost like he couldn’t believe it as he turned his head to see Megan standing there. But he gave her a smile, a polite gesture as he turned to look at Tash really quick, before seeing her polite face, too.

“Yeah—yeah, sure.”

He stood, glass in hand, straightening his shirt, glancing between Tash and Megan like he wasn’t sure what expression to land on. In the end, he followed Megan to where she was leading, letting her lead him toward the terrace with the easy charm of someone who didn’t realize how obvious it all looked.

The two of them disappeared up the steps, her hand grazing his arm as they turned the corner.

Ella sat back on the cushions with a dramatic sigh. “So much for earning trust.”

You didn’t say anything. You just watched the boy who said he still wanted you get pulled away by the girl who had kissed him in a game days ago—and who clearly hadn’t stopped thinking about it.

But, at the same time, you sat with the idea that he made claims that he was still fighting for you—this wasn’t all his doing. He could fall into their traps; it was still a game at the end of the day. It was still a place to find love, and Harry was still charming. That’s what worried you.

Megan was single and trying her hand at being chosen, finding her own connections. It was just the way of going about it that you couldn’t see past.

{IN THE VILLA – TERRACE}

The terrace was quieter than the rest of the villa, which is supposedly why Megan would have led Harry up there—high enough to catch the breeze, tucked enough to feel hidden. Fairy lights strung overhead flickered warm and low, casting soft gold across the little cushioned bench tucked in the corner.

Megan led the way, walking like she already knew Harry would follow. When she turned and sat, she crossed her legs slowly, placing her drink on the low table beside her. Harry followed a few paces behind, his jaw tight, one hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was already bracing for whatever this was.

“Bit of fresher air up here, yeah?” Megan said lightly, patting the space beside her. “Maybe a bit clearer.”

Harry gave a short laugh and sat, leaving just enough space between them to be polite—but not cold. “Yeah. Didn’t realize I needed it ‘til now maybe.”

Megan smiled, leaning back on the cushions behind her back, her dress riding up ever so slightly on her thigh. “You’ve had a busy day. And a busier night, I see.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, half-smirking. “That obvious, is it?”

“Babe, the whole villa can feel it,” she said, laughing—she tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re the man of the hour seems like.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Not sure that’s a good thing.”

Megan tilted her head, her voice dipping a little lower. “Depends on what you do with all that attention.”

There was a pause—quiet, heavy. Megan broke it, casual but calculated as she reached to grab her drink, taking a small sip. “I’m just wondering where your head’s at.”

Harry exhaled, eyebrows knitting together as he recalled the Truth or Dare game. “Yeah,” he said, watching him carefully. “We had that moment the other day, didn’t we? During the game. That kiss.”

“It was a good kiss, to be fair,” Megan replied, her tone matter-of-fact, but there was a flicker of challenge behind her eyes as she gave a soft giggle. “Wasn’t nothing, was it?”

Harry paused, shifting in his seat. “Look, I’m not gonna lie, Meg—it was a good kiss. Surprised me, actually—I mean, more surprised that you chose me.”

Megan’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “See?”

“But…” he added, rubbing his palm over his knees, “my head’s a bit messy.”

“With Y/N,” Megan said softly.

Harry nodded once. “And Tash, kind of. But mostly Y/N. It’s just… not straightforward, and I think I’m starting to realize that I… do have a stronger connection with her at the moment.”

Megan didn’t press him for an explanation; it wasn’t needed. Instead, she leaned in slightly, her voice turning lighter. “I’m not trying to mess up whatever you’ve got going on. Just thought if you were open to getting to know people… I’d throw my name in, and I know you two aren’t exclusive, so.”

He gave her a look—something between appreciation and regret. “I rate that. I do. You’re sound, Megan. Gorgeous, obviously. Just—”

“You’re not there,” she finished for him, shrugging. “Fair enough.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he blinked a few times, trying to put together what he wants to say that wouldn’t hurt her feelings, but that wouldn’t be used against him later with all the honesty that he held. “I don’t want to lead anyone on. I’ve already done enough of that.”

They sat in silence for a moment. The wind picked up slightly, fluttering the hem of Megan’s dress.

“Well,” she said, standing and brushing her hands down her thighs to adjust her dress, “least I know where I stand now.”

Harry stood too, smiling softly as he stood next to her “Respect for being honest and putting yourself out there.”

Megan glanced back at him before standing up, brushing her dress down. “Maybe next time, try being honest a little earlier.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Harry stood there for a beat longer, staring out over the villa—the garden lights below had a sparkle to them that made him roll his eyes at the possible happiness and overarching optimism, the people he was trying not to lose already slipping further away.

From the daybeds, the view of the terrace steps was unobstructed. It was one of those architectural choices that made it nearly impossible to do anything in private—and tonight, that felt intentional as the names on everyone’s breath were starting to make their way down the steps.

You were still sitting with Ella and Tiana, leaning back against the bench with your neck slightly out to try and catch a glimpse, trying to keep your face neutral all at the same time. But your chest had been tight for the last ten minutes.

Ella stopped mid-sentence when she noticed there was movement, Tiana nudged you.

“Oh, here we go,” Ella murmured to you as the three of you stared at the two individuals coming down from the terrace.

You looked up just in time to see them—Harry and Megan—walking side by side down the stairs from the terrace. Their heads were bowed slightly, not talking, but not exactly keeping distance either. Megan’s arms were folded across her chest; her lips curved into the faintest smile. Harry’s hands were jammed in his pockets.

They didn’t look guilty of any wrongdoings; they didn’t look triumphant either. They seemed quiet, neither of them talking or having a conversation which made your eyes knit with a bit of confusion on why their chatted in the first place.

Your eyes shifted along the rest of the garden; the villa was watching.

Tash glanced over from her place at the edge of the pool, her eyes narrowing the second she clocked them. William, standing near the outdoor bar in the kitchen space, turned just slightly in their direction, then looked quickly away.

Even Luca raised an eyebrow from where he was lounging with Catie. Nobody said a word, but the tension was thick enough to cut.

You watched Harry’s eyes flick instinctively toward you. He looked… unreadable, at most. Like he hadn’t made up his mind about how he wanted to play this next part. You didn’t look away, you didn’t smile. You didn’t even flinch at the way that he leaned in to say something to Megan under his breath—just a quick nod, and then she peeled off toward the girls by the kitchen like it was nothing.

Your heart raced when you watched Harry turn and walked directly toward you. Ella shifted next to you, visibly bristling.

“Oh, no way,” she muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

Tiana stayed silent, but she didn’t make room for him. Harry stopped at the edge of the daybed, hands still in his pockets.

“Can we chat?” he asked, his voice softer than you expected.

You stared at him, Ella scoffed. You glanced at her—she didn’t even try to hide her glare. Harry’s jaw tightened slightly, like he was biting back a reaction at that. You exhaled slowly and stood, brushing your hands down the side of your dress.

“Yeah, sure.”

Ella didn’t move as you stepped past. Tiana gave Harry a single, cutting look before turning her head.

“Don’t think I deserve to be fucking written off,” Harry bit at their reactions; his reaction caught them off guard for a moment before you took in a breath; he stood with a sour expression that was ultimately laced in a bit of hurt, “It’s fucking Love Island for Christ sake, I’m not a fucking villain here.”

“No, but you’re still a prick,” Tiana said quickly, her reaction and tone matching his. “You knew how Y/N felt, and you still walk around with that smug smirk.”

You started to walk away from the conversation to not get involved in either part of it; in your surprise, he didn’t respond to Tiana, you felt him on her tracks. You walked ahead of him toward the quieter side of the garden, not waiting to see if he followed. But you knew he would, and behind you, the villa was still watching.

You led him to the part of the garden, where the lanterns dimmed and the sounds of the villa softened into distant murmurs. There was a bench—half in shadow, half in glow under a bit of dim glow. You took a seat, crossing your legs as you took in a deep breath and prepared yourself for what he could say.

Harry hesitated before stepping closer but kept a small distance between you. He could feel the wall you’d built since the last time you spoke—and it wasn’t subtle.

“Before you say anything,” he started, voice low because he didn’t want the entire villa to hear their conversation, “I just want to be honest. About what that was.”

You turned your head, giving him a glance but not giving in. “Go on, then.”

He ran a hand through his curls, exhaling. “Megan pulled me because she wanted to see where my head was at. And I told her—straight up—that it’s messy,” He paused for a moment, poking his tongue in his cheek, “And that I’m not interested in her like that—I just don’t see us forming a connection now, and that I’m focused on someone else.”

You looked at him fully now, eyebrows raised. “Right. And you needed to tell her that on the terrace? Alone?”

“She took me up there.” Harry didn’t flinch responding, looking at you—keeping eye contact the whole time. “She kissed me during the game, remember? I think she’s been waiting for a moment since then. I just… didn’t want to be rude. I didn’t want it to turn into something bigger than it was.”

You let out a short breath—half laugh, half disbelief as you looked down. “It’s already bigger than it was, Harry. Everything is because every time someone sees you laughing with Tash, or disappearing with Megan, or looking at me like I’m the one confusing you—it’s already a whole thing.”

He looked down for a moment, he picked at his thumb nail to focus in on something. “I get it. I do. I just… I didn’t think saying yes to that chat would matter that much—"

You shook your head, lips tight as you felt yourself interrupt his thoughts. “It’s not about the chat. It’s about what it looks like, what it feels like. You’re saying you want to earn my trust, but you’re everywhere with everyone, Harry. I don’t want to be one of three girls orbiting around whatever version of you shows up that day.”

His eyes flashed with something—it looks like hurt mixed with a guilt that almost made his put a permanent sadness on his face.

“I’m not trying to play games,” his voice has an earnest nature to it, like he just couldn’t keep this up anymore. “I didn’t plan for any of this. You know that, right?”

You gave a small nod, but your arms stayed crossed as you tried your best to hear him out. “I know. But you’re still in it, whether you meant to be or not,” you swallow as you shake your head, “And I’m not going to fight anyone for you, Harry. I won’t do that—I’m not wired like that, that’s not why I’m here.”

There was silence between you. It was a silence that didn’t warrant either of you to speak; you took in a breath; he let one out. Then, Harry nodded slowly.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” he said finally, shrugging like he didn’t have anything else to give. “And I’m sorry I made it feel like that. Truly—the only regret I have this far is making you feel like that.”

You let your arms drop slightly, your posture softening but your eyes still guarded. “You’re saying a lot of the right things lately, but your timing sucks.”

He gave a faint smile; you weren’t sure if there were tears in his eyes or if it may have just been the glowing lights hitting them differently, but you instantly looked away because it hurt to see him distraught.

“Yeah. That’s fair.” He responded, nodding again.

There was another short pause before you took in a breath, you looked at him properly now. “What do you want?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He looked at you like he was still trying to figure it out himself. Eventually, he said, “I want something real with you. But only if it’s not hurting you to try.”

You nodded once, not a finality in it, but more of an eeriness that you couldn’t pinpoint. “Okay.”

It wasn’t a yes or a no—it was an okay. That word itself became a boundary; it was a space for him to prove it or walk away. Harry didn’t push any further on it, to try and get an answer out of you. He just sat there, shoulders a little heavier, watching you like he knew he’d already used up his last second chance.

Harry leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his eyes diverted up to you. “You still thinking about William?”

You didn’t answer right away because there wasn’t a reason to give any details to him; you wanted to be honest, wanted to tell him that you and William had a great date. You found that he had been very respectful, had a lot of character that made you feel wanted and seen.

You wanted to tell Harry that because you wanted him to feel the jealousy.

But then—

Ping, ping.

A sharp, echoing chime ripped through the quiet from across the garden. You both snapped at the familiar sound towards the garden, heads lifting to see that Mitch held the phone up in his hands. Voices rose from the pool area. The rest of the villa had started to gather.

Harry stood first, brows furrowed. “Fucking hell.”

You followed, legs slightly stiff as you walked side-by-side toward the group, the ease of your chat instantly gone. Like it had been placed in a glass case and sealed.

Mitch already had the phone in hand. You arrived just as he cleared his throat to read aloud, the others circling in with widened eyes and held breath.

“Islanders. Tonight, there will be a recoupling. The boys will choose which girl they want to couple up with. The girl not chosen will be dumped from the island—immediately. Please make your ways to the firepit.”

You stood frozen in place, eyes flicking toward Harry, whose body was already rigid beside you. His jaw locked tight, his eyes on you like there wasn’t anyone else in the world—you felt the heat of his stare, the need in his body language as he stood practically as close to you as possible without physical touch.

Across the circle, William turned slowly, his stare landing on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He didn’t speak—but the message was there, clear as day.

Tash sat a few feet away, her spine straightening sharply as she took in the information. Her lips parted like she was about to say something—but no sound came. She just looked from Harry to you and then quickly down, composing herself with a sharp exhale.

And beside you, Ella reached for your arm, grounding you from your feeling of floating. You turned slightly, meeting her wide, serious eyes as you both started to make your ways over to the firepit.

{IN A CONFESSIONAL – HARRY}

He’s sitting forward in the seat, fingers laced together tightly as he thinks for a moment before speaking. There’s an unwritten tension that stays on his face longer than a single moment because he’s completely unsure of what he wants to say.

“If I’m honest, I thought I’d already ruined it, and maybe I have. But if there’s even half a chance, she feels the same… I have to take it.”

He exhales slowly, nodding to himself like he’s trying to believe it.

“I know who I want to be choosing, and I hope it’s the right decision for me.”

{IN THE VILLA – AT THE FIREPIT}

You stand with your hands on the front of your dress that hugs your thighs; the butter yellow is complimentary to your poolside warm skin in a way that invites wandering eyes. The girls stood side by side in a line that felt more like a firing squad than a ceremony with their heads held high, hopes sitting on their shoulders and lifted like shields.

Everyone is pretending they aren’t holding their breath, waiting for their final demise. You stood next to Tash so close your arms could brush if you just leaned a bit to the left, but the distance between you felt like miles. That was the issue—you never wished her any ill-will, you wanted her to find love, too.

You stared forward, lips parted just slightly, trying to look calm, composed, untouched by it all as the villa stood around you like it was going to fall at any moment. But your chest rose a little too fast, and your eyes flicked to Harry before you could stop them.

Johnny had chosen Ella; Liam had chosen Tiana; Luca had chosen Catie. They had made their small speeches, little affectionate tidbits that made each of the girls feel special and wanted for the moment.

Harry was sitting on the bench with the boys, elbows on knees, gaze fixed low as he tried to keep his thoughts unread and composed. That was, until the text tone chimed again; Luca picked up the phone, read the message aloud with a sharp edge to his voice.

“Harry, please stand up.”

Everything else fell away when you realized that your fate was now in his palms. Harry stood slowly almost like he was learning how to, like the air had gone heavy around him. His jaw flexed, his eyes finally lifting—first to the girls next to you, then directly towards your eyes to almost make contact but that would have hurt more than it was worth.

He stood at his spot in front of the firepit, there was a small sweep of a breeze through his curls. He wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t trying to be charming—it had finally caught up to his emotions to a point now. He couldn’t charm his way around it now.

Tash stood tall beside you, chin tilted upward like she already knew how this was going to go, but her arms sat behind her back, and you wondered what had been going on behind her eyes. You wondered if she really knew, or if she thought she could overcome this.

From being a girl’s girl, you wished that it didn’t have to be this way—in all honesty, there was nothing to hate about any of the girls standing there with you. You were all there for the same reasons, but the connections were getting crossed, messages were getting mixed.

Instead, you reached for her hand softly; not knowing if she would reciprocate the small gesture. Your fingers moved to hold onto hers, letting them settle against hers, and she pulled onto you softly. She took your hand and held it without another look.

When your eyes lifted up, you saw Harry as he stood just in front of the firepit. The flames flicked at the air, like they were dancing. His hands were clenched together in front of him—thumb dragging a nervous line across the ridge of his knuckles.

He took a slow breath in as his fingers fidgeted in front of him when he moved to flex them.

“I’d like to couple up with this girl,” he began with a shaky voice that made his eyes shut just at the idea that he had to choose, “because…”

He looked down for a moment, but when he looked up again, his gaze landed squarely on you, and you wondered if that was what was written in the card or the apology you never received. Either way, your lips parted at the green eyes that laid on you and you already forgave him for something that he hadn’t done yet—regardless. Regardless of if he chose someone else because he truly felt they had a deeper connection.

It’s okay, your eyes pleaded, You’re forgiven.

“…because she sees every side of me—the good, the reckless, the parts I try to hide. And instead of turning away when I make irrational decisions… she makes me want to be someone worth choosing, on her end too.”

Your lips parted as you let a sharp breath in. No one moved from their seats as they looked between Harry and you. A single heartbeat passed, then another. You could feel Tash go still next to you with severe uncertainty—rigid, unreadable.

Harry hadn’t said your name. And still, everything in you already knew this was about to change everything. The night hung in the air, heavy with what was coming next.

The fire crackled softly beside Harry, throwing a warm orange light across his face, but he looked pale beneath it. Not afraid—just ready and braced for whatever came next.

“She challenges me, calls me out when I’m being an absolute nightmare. Makes me feel like I don’t have to pretend even when I’ve given her every reason not to trust me—she still looks at me like there’s something good left. And I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to deserve someone so badly than this girl.”

Your heart stopped because you aren’t sure how to react; the silence in the villa was complete. Then, without any further anxiety, you watch him let out a heavy deep breath that looked like it had been holding inside of him for ages.

“Y/N.”

It was your name. It was simply your name with a sureness, it was said like it meant everything.

Gasps echoed instantly with a few shocked murmurs rippled through the group, a whispered “No way…” from somewhere near the boys’ bench. Someone dropped their hand to their mouth. Even Luca looked wide-eyed. You felt the sting of a thousand eyes land on you at once.

Your feet stayed glued to the gravel for half a second too long. The world spun a little, and when you moved, it was like pushing through water. Tash didn’t look at you.

She didn’t look at anyone, instead opting to just stare ahead, expression fixed with a stoicism that you respected. It immediately felt like the entire scene was playing on a screen far away and she wasn’t bothered by any of it. Her arms remained held behind her back as she swayed on her feet for a moment, her jaw locked tight.

You stepped forward towards Harry as he watched every move you made like he couldn’t believe you were actually coming toward him—almost like he had forgotten he had chosen you. When you reached him, he didn’t touch you at first—just let out a shaky breath, eyes flicking over your face.

You stood in front of him, spine straight. Still unsure if you were angry or overwhelmed or something else entirely. He leaned in, quiet, just for you.

“Thank you,” he murmured with a disbelief as he went to wrap his arms around you. You let yourself fall into his touch, almost like you hadn’t let your breath out yet. You didn’t respond, you didn’t have to.

Shutting your eyes, you took in the smell of the suntan lotion mixed with his cologne that almost overwhelmed you right then and there. When you let go of him, you turned to stand next to him, facing outwards as you both went to take a seat on the bench.

Ella shot you a look from across the firepit—wide-eyed, questioning, ready for details the second she got you alone. Tiana’s lips were parted in surprise, like she couldn’t understand what had happened. William, still seated on the bench, blinked slowly like he hadn’t decided whether to be disappointed or impressed.

And then there was Tash—Tash didn’t even blink. Now, you sat beside Harry, your heart still racing, the fire between you and the rest of the villa burning hot.

In a second, you feel the phone next to you chime with the ringtone. You reach down to pick it up to read the message across the screen:

“William, please stand up.”

There was a pause after you said his name; your eyes glancing over to where he sat next to Luca. Then, William stood.

His movement was measured, shoulders rolled back, jaw tight. There wasn’t an angriness about him—but there was an unreadable reaction in that calm, quietly serious way of his. He didn’t look at you, but you could feel it anyway—that faint hum of what he’d almost said. What he almost did say if Harry hadn’t gotten to you first.

“I want to couple up with this girl,” he said finally, his voice low, steady, with something just a little heavy behind it, “because I think she deserves another shot.”

There was a shift then, a subtle one. Even all of the other girls on the bench started to stand straighter.

William didn’t pause for any type of drama. He didn’t look around the villa searching for effect. His words were quiet like he wasn’t trying to sell a love story—just speak something kind into the space between two people.

“She’s been through it in here. And I think sometimes when you get bruised like that, it’s easy to forget who you were before it all started, but she hasn’t. She’s still holding her head up,” He held his hands in front of him, “She’s still cool, still honest. I think we haven’t explored all of our own connection yet, and I’m looking forward to diving a bit deeper.”

You felt Harry shift beside you again, and this time, you knew it wasn’t for your benefit. William’s gaze finally rose—steady and clear directly at her.

“So, the girl I’d like to couple up with… is Tash.”

You turned your head slightly to glance at her. Tash didn’t react immediately—there wasn’t any widened eyes or dramatic exhale like she was saved. She just blinked once, as if letting the words settle inside her, and then stepped forward towards William.

She stopped in front of William, who gave her a small, private smile. There was nothing smug or performative, or unrealistic about it. It was just… kind.

She returned it—just a flicker of a smile in the corner of her mouth—and then took her seat beside him. Just two people aligned for the first time that night. The firepit seemed quieter after that, like everyone had become exhausted just in the past ten minutes of this conversation.

No one said anything, but the mood shifted, ever so slightly. The chaos had dimmed with a soft hush settling over the space. Tiana looked across the firepit at you with raised brows and a tiny shake of her head. Ella leaned forward just slightly, mouthing something you didn’t quite catch.

William’s voice still echoed faintly in your mind: “She deserves another shot.”

You weren’t sure who he’d meant that for—Tash, or maybe you too. But either way, you were grateful for the way he said it.

Tash and William now sat together on the bench, not quite touching with his arm around the back of the seat, but aligned in something that felt stable—newly formed. The rest of the villa seemed to collectively exhale; there were no dramatic gasps, no applause. There was just silence and the soft crackle of the firepit, as if the air had decided everyone needed a moment to recover.

You felt the weight of eyes on you again—Tiana giving you a look that said, This is far from over, and Ella mouthing something with a tight-lipped expression, probably Are you okay? But you couldn’t catch it.

Your heart was still drumming from everything that came before—Harry’s voice choosing your name, William’s eyes not flinching when he didn’t get to. Tash’s composure as she accepted being a couple with William. It was all still settling like silt in water.

Ping, ping.

That sound again. Sharp, and final. Everyone’s heads turned toward the bench where the phone sat. Tiana picked it up without hesitation, her brows drawing together as she read aloud:

“Megan. As the only girl not chosen in tonight’s recoupling… you have been dumped from the island. Please pack your bags and say your goodbyes.”

There it was: the final cut. Megan didn’t move at first as she stood alone. The whole villa held still, as if even the firepit had dimmed its glow in respect. She just smoothed the front of her dress, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and gave a single nod.

“Guess that’s me, then,” she said quietly, with a wry half-smile. “It’s been real—I do love all of you, and I really loved being here the past few weeks with everyone. We’ve made some great memories, and I do wish you all the best.”

A few people moved quicker than others—Catie came over to hug her, Ella followed, offering soft words. Even Luca stood to say something respectful. You stayed seated for a moment, unsure what your role was anymore. You and Harry stood after a few moments; you gave her a soft hug, Harry following suit.

“Wish you the best, Meg,” He told her softly, before pulling away and rubbing her back.

She didn’t say anything to him; you could tell that there was something that hadn’t been resolved. He looked like he had something to do with the fact that she was going home, which made you feel guilty because she deserved loved just like everyone had.

Megan turned and began walking toward the dressing rooms to collect her items, her heels clicking softly on the stone as the girls started to follow. Not a strut, not a storm-off—she knew that it was her time, and the connections timing just wasn’t there. The moment didn’t end with fanfare; dumps from the villa were always bittersweet. It was just a strange, silent pause—like the villa was exhaling in unison.

Tash tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked at William, who was looking down at his hands. Harry glanced toward you—but didn’t move. You blinked once, let your breath go slowly, and stared into the fire. The night wasn’t over yet, but something inside it had caused enough stirring for you to feel the uneasiness to settle.

AFTER THE RECOUPLING...

NEXT TIME ON LOVE ISLAND…

{NARRATOR}

“The sun is shining, the villa’s vibing… but today, it’s not just bikinis and banter and the girls chasing after Harry. Oh no. The Islanders are about to serve face—and not in the fun way.”

Harry’s phone rings, reading out the text loudly: “Islanders! Today, you’ll be playing Who Said It? Each round, you’ll hear a quote said by someone in the villa. Your job is to guess who said it, and try not to ruin your friendships in the process. #PokerFace”

The Islanders start walking into the challenge space that held color signs, large billboards with quotes, and a podium for a lucky contestant to guess.

Mitch stepped up to the podium, card in hand, grinning like he didn’t already know he was about to light a match.

“Alright,” he said, clearing his throat. “This one says…”

He paused—just enough to let the suspense build.

“He’s telling three different girls what they want to hear. And somehow, they’re all still buying it. Who said it?”

The words hit like a slap across everyone; a slow ripple of stunned silence washed through the lineup. You didn’t move as your eyes fixed on the quote like it might change if you stared hard enough. Your stomach tightened with recognition.

Harry’s expression hardened, almost like he hadn’t a clue who could have said that. His arms were crossed, but his jaw had clenched tight as he tried to keep his tongue pressed. He didn’t blink and didn’t play it off like a joke. The silence around him said enough.

Across the group, Tiana leaned into Ella, her voice barely audible but a bit of a laugh on her tongue: “Who said that?”

Ella didn’t respond, but her expression did. On the far end of the line, Tash sat perfectly still, her smile tight and strained, like she was daring someone to look her in the eye and say it outright. Her arms were relaxed, but her knuckles were white where she held the edge of the podium.

Then, Harry let out a low, clipped laugh as he turned his head to look at everyone else who was sitting around on the bench. He spoke up to challenge the area, voice rising just enough to carry.

“Okay, who said it?” he asked, gesturing out to the group, palms open; no one answered, not to his surprise. “We know who it’s about.”

There was a break of silence, then. He scoffed, rolling his eyes before he licked over his lips.

“I’m serious,” he added, sharper now. “Because if you’ve got something to say, say it to my fucking face, huh?”

Ronan shrugged his shoulders, “Mate, if you were honest—”

He turned slowly, eyes scanning each face. His voice cracked slightly on the next line. “Is that how you all see me? Just some dickhead running game on three girls at once?”

Voices start to raise as Luca cut in, “I mean, you weren’t leading the girls on to think anything, so it’s fucked that someone said it like that. Obviously, you’re testing connection, and that’s not wrong.”

Ella chimed in, “Taking the girls up the hideaway, sharing a bed with her in Casa—”

“It’s not your fucking place to say how I test my connections, Ella!” Harry exclaimed leaning out to look at her down the line on the bench. “I’m not fucking playing anyone—the deceit and lies that are being made because you’re fucking bitter about something is weird—my fucking character isn’t up for grabs.”

Ella bit back, “I’m not bitter about anything, I just think your behavior is fucking garbage—you’re making a mug of Y/N when she’s been loyal to your connection.”

Tiana rolled her eyes, “You want to have cake and eat it too, Harry—get your fucking ten minutes of screen time, won’t you.”

“That was a bit out of pocket,” You say quietly, shaking your head, “He’s not—that’s not what’s happening, and you guys are coming on strong.”

Taking in a breath, Tash shrugged her shoulders as she looked down the line at the girls with an annoyed eye, “He’s not playing anyone—this is a game, don’t know why you girls care so much about situation you’re not even a part of, so fuck off with it, will you?”

You could see it then—just the flicker of it. It was an immense level of hurt, masked in frustration as Harry held it together for another moment; he turned his hat around on his head in an annoyed huff. The way he squared his shoulders but couldn’t quite keep his mouth from trembling at the edge.

He was at a breaking point, and you could feel the heat.

#hs #harry styles #harry fanfic #harry wattpad #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x original character #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #love island #welcome to the villa #harry styles stories #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fic rec

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unintentionalseductress · 20 hours ago

Note

hii!! was wondering if i could ask for you to please write on the LADS guys helping you after having to leave a friend after they became super mean? i'm not feeling awesome :( thank you!

Warnings: none needed, some angst, swearing in Sylus's A/N: Hello there anon! I have a lot of experience with this, unfortunately. 😞😞😞 It always surprises me how people can change on a whim, and I hope you feel better.

.ೃ࿔*:･LaDS men helping you after leaving a mean friend...

.ೃ࿔*:･Zayne Zayne notices how withdrawn you were after coming home from meeting your friend. He makes you a warm cup of cocoa, complete with marshmallows and whipped cream, and serves it in one of the cute ceramic mugs you'd made together some time ago. Your eyes well up with tears as you accept the mug, and Zayne sits next to you, drawing you to his side.

"What's the matter?" He asks softly, and after you take a sip of the sweet concoction, you tell him.

"She's not my friend anymore. She says I spend too much time with you, and I don't have a personality anymore. Something about flaunting my happiness." You angrily dash away a tear rolling down your cheek and take another sip, inadvertently getting whipped cream on the tip of your nose. Zayne fights down the urge to smile at the sight when you're obviously hurting, and thumbs away the whipped cream, and you glance away in embarrassment.

"I'm not flaunting my happiness am I?" you ask uncertainly and Zayne shakes his head no.

"You haven't exactly been handing out fliers with our picture on them. To be honest, she sounds jealous," he murmurs as he licks his thumb clean. "And not the type of person you want as a friend. Friends don't tear you down just because you're in a relationship."

Realizing the truth in his words, you feel your heavy heart unclench and sigh.

"How much sugar did you put in this?"

"Enough to wash away the bitterness of today I hope."

.ೃ࿔*:･Sylus Sylus immediately suspects something is wrong when you're practicing your shooting at the private range in his base. Your body is tense and your teeth are gritted, yet all your shots keep missing. He puts a hand on the gun, forcing you to lower it and look at him.

"What?" you ask sharply, and Sylus quirks an eyebrow.

"Something has you all worked up, kitten. You never miss this badly."

"Like I need to be good all the time?" You hurl back, anger seeping into your voice, then all at once, you burst out with your problem.

"She's such a bitch!"

Sylus's eyebrows raised in surprise for a moment before relaxing. "I'm assuming you're talking about your friend?" He makes air quotes around the last word.

"Hah, with a friend like that who needs enemies? She turned my entire group against me! I knew the energy was off when I met them, but it was humiliating, sitting there, wondering what was wrong when she fed them all those lies! And she pretended like she didn't know!"

"I told you she was never your friend to begin with sweetie. I didn't like her the moment I saw her."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised. As the leader of Onychinus, I know when someone is being insincere. Let them all go, sweetie. They're dead weight."

He takes his hand off the gun and points to the target. "Imagine her face right on the bullseye."

You follow his advice and shoot it dead center, and Sylus puffs up like a proud mama bird.

.ೃ࿔*:･Caleb "Pipsqueak?" Caleb knocks on the bedroom door after hearing your quiet crying. When you don't respond, he enters anyway, his heart breaking as he sees your tear-streaked face.

"What happened?" He doesn't need an invitation and lies down on the bed, gathering you against his chest. "Did your reunion not go well?"

"This one girl ruined everything." You sob, tears staining Caleb's shirt. "I was telling the group about how you and I finally got together, and while everyone else was happy for me, she asked me how I pulled that off."

Caleb soothingly rubs your back, pretending to be nonchalant, but an arrow of rage has wedged itself into his chest. "What did she mean by that?"

"She said you were too good for me. She remembers all your games and said you were too popular, too handsome to date me. She said you only did it out of pity because we grew up together!" Your voice is so sad and pathetic and you can't help but feel like an ugly monster.

Caleb's heart squeezes painfully at your admission, and at the same time, he feels bubbling anger for the girl who said all those awful things to you.

"Now you listen to me, pipsqueak. Don't listen to a word she says. Sounds like she had a crush that she never got over. And isn't that a litte sad considering how long ago high school was?"

You sniff and try to dry your tears. "She did sound jealous."

"Of course she is! Because she doesn't get why I didn't pay attention to anyone else." He hugs you tightly until you're gasping for breath.

"You're beautiful pip." Caleb says fiercely. "Strong. Determined. And loyal. To find all that in person? It's so hard. No one holds a candle to you, princess." He kisses your forehead.

"She's an ex-friend now yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

.ೃ࿔*:･Xavier You look miserable when you walk into Xavier's apartment. His blue eyes watch you silently as you flop down on the sofa, looking pensive.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his soothing voice only pushing you closer to cracking. You sniff and shake your head.

"Did you not have fun with your friend?"

"She stood me up."

Xavier's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "That's an awful thing to do. And she didn't even tell you she wasn't coming?"

"No. But I suppose I should have taken the hint. She's been cancelling on me for months now. I'm the one that kept pushing to meet up. But it still hurts."

A tear escapes your eye and you wipe it away. "I sat there at the restaurant like a fool. I waited for nearly 2 hours, Xav! Then when I finally texted her, she said she had forgotten! How do you forget you've made plans with someone?" You look at him, distraught, and Xavier draws you into his arms.

"People can be mean sometimes, angel. I'm sorry this happened to you." He rocks you gently in his arms, and you feel some of your sadness lessen.

"This person doesn't sound very nice. They're not worth your energy. Maybe reconsider if they're worth keeping in your life."

"I already told her I'm not meeting her again."

"That takes courage." Xavier starts scrolling his phone and you look at him curiously.

"What are you doing?"

"Ordering hot pot. The food for heroes. Do you want chicken or seafood?"

.ೃ࿔*:･Rafayel He catches you aggressively deleting pictures from your phone.

"Hey cutie, what's gotten you so pissed?" he asks as he steps into the studio. In reponse, you show him a group photo and point to one girl in particular.

"I am not friends with her anymore. I'm deleting all my photos with her."

"Hold on now." Rafayel smoothly steps forward and locks your phone screen.

"What'd you do that for?" you ask furiously.

"Don't delete all your pictures with her. Some of them are with other people you still like, yeah?" he plops down next to you, and you realize he's right. You wondered how many photos you had deleted in your rage just to get rid of any trace of her.

"Then what do I do, Raf?" you ask, lying back on the couch cushions dramatically. "I can't stand her. She's the sort of person who always wants help, but never shows up when I need her. And then she has the nerve to say I'm not supportive of her."

"She sounds like a barnacle. Attached and only sustaining herself. You can do better than that."

You give him an exasperated look. "A barnacle might be a bit of stretch."

"How? You're the one that said she takes and never gives anything back. That's a barnacle. I suppose we could call her a parasite, but that sounds meaner than a barnacle."

"Raf!" you chortle, his pettiness elevating your mood. "You're wrose than I am!"

"Well duh. That's why I'm the brains, and you're the brawn."

"I'm the brawn?" You asked amusedly.

"Yes, that's why you're my bodyguard. Now regarding that friend-"

"Ex-friend" you interrupt and Rafayel shrugs.

"Can I use her photo as a reference? I've been commissioned to make an art mural at a school. I was thinking I could make her into a sea monster chasing some fish."

A fit of giggles overcomes you and Rafayel laughs along.

"I'm serious though. Send me the picture."

@sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @brekkersgf @shddyboo @venussakura @ravenclaw-jojo @thesoftuglywrites @belt0-0 @snatched-bubblegum-bitch @ibreathesmut @williamafton26 @aenishas @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @ladyparamount @tokyorevengersrin @xinnn6 @xiaoderrrr @evansdmitri @decileste @wynter-lily @delphiakira @thedeepspacecadet @mcdepressed290 @plzdonutpercieveme

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wwinterwitch · 3 days ago

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all over you – johnny storm x fem!reader

summary: there's this particular thought that's been on your mind lately, but there's just no way that you can say it out loud (read part one and part two first!!) pairing: johnny storm x fem!reader word count: 4.7k tags: tons of fluff of course, what a cute couple this is, meeting the fam!! (as vague as writing a fake family can get so it'd be more reader insert but i did include mom, dad and two younger siblings), one mention of reader being lifted off the ground, love confession omg it's finally happening folks, some minor angst ig?, tried to add some plot to all the fluff basically note: i'm highly considering making another part if i find enough inspo so please let me know if you'd be interested in that...also might be time to add a little smut to the mix??? i feel like i want to go there but then i stop myself lmao idk we'll see how it goes! thank you sooo much for all the love on this series, it really makes me so so happy you have no idea <3

a comment and/or reblog is always appreciated!

main masterlist | marvel masterlist

Diploma in hand, you scan the crowd in search of any familiar face. The atmosphere is surrounded with joy, excitement and a sense of accomplishment as fellow graduates get congratulated by their family and friends.

This day officially marks the start of a new chapter in your life.

Your mom spots you first, immediately pointing at you as all your family walk towards you. “Congratulations, honey!” she says excitedly, pulling you in for a tight hug, barely able to hold back her tears. “We’re so proud of you!”

Your dad is the next one to hug you, followed by your two younger siblings. The youngest is only four, getting immediately distracted by your mortarboard, stretching her tiny hands up as if there was any possible way she could reach it by herself. Noticing her efforts, you immediately take it off your head before placing it on top of hers, the cap being a little too big for her head.

It doesn’t take long before your mom demands for everyone to pose for a photo. Your dad picks your younger sister from the ground as she quickly puts the mortarboard on and grins wide at the camera. Next to you stands your sixteen year-old brother, awkwardly smiling because he doesn’t enjoy being in photos that much.

“Holy shit,” you hear him mutter to himself as soon as he realizes who’s approaching all of you.

“Hey, language,” your dad calls him out, but then he realizes too and he immediately understands why his son would blurt that out so suddenly.

Holy shit indeed.

Many other people start acknowledging the presence of The Fantastic Four at the graduation. Sure, everyone in attendance was expecting to perhaps spot Dr. Reed Richards in the crowd since he’s a faculty member, but having all four of them here certainly makes everyone that much excited.

Johnny doesn’t care about the looks or the fact that your family is still frozen just observing all four of them. He only cares about making his way towards you to give you the biggest hug, making you giggle when he’s lifting you up from the ground and spinning you around.

“Here’s my favorite physicist!” he says with a massive smile on his face, finally putting you down before reaching out to fix a strand of your hair. “Now you can’t hold any technicalities against me.”

Your parents are very much aware of your connection to the group of superheroes. They were over the moon when you told them none other than Reed Richards will be helping you on your final project, but they were a bit confused when you finally told them about your relationship with Johnny.

Of course you had to say something because they’d have to meet him at your graduation anyway, so they might as well be aware of the situation beforehand. And it’s not like they didn’t like the fact that you were with him, but of course the timing was a bit off. To be working with your professor and then immediately starting to date his brother-in-law…perhaps in their position you’d also be wondering how that whole thing developed.

You get it. They’re just worried about how that dynamic might look like. You immediately tried to reassure them that everything’s fine and they completely trusted your judgement, so they dropped their concerns…slightly. You were fully aware that they’d still want to get to meet all of them and see that dynamic for themselves before making a definite decision on where they stand.

They not only want to see said dynamic, but they also want to make sure they approve of your new boyfriend. Yes, they love The Fantastic Four as any other regular civilian, but they have to put that aside and see if Johnny Storm is a good candidate for their daughter or not.

“Dr. Richards, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” you hear your dad say politely, immediately distracting you from Johnny as you watch your dad shaking hands with him.

“Please, the pleasure’s all mine.”

And so the introductions begin. Internally, you’re freaking out about the idea of your family meeting Johnny’s family, but you see all of them interact and so far you see nothing alarming. Your brother is fanboying over Ben just as you had predicted (he has always been his favorite of the group) and your little sister is giggling at something Sue and Reed just told her.

Then it’s time for the worst interaction. Or best. Depends on how you see it.

Johnny is shaking your dad’s hand and accepting the brief hug your mom gives him before placing a hand on your back. You can tell he’s nervous, almost seeking out your touch for silent comfort. It’s the cutest thing ever.

“It’s really nice to finally meet you,” he starts, offering them a polite smile. You’ve never seen him this…reserved.

“We were pretty excited too,” your mom replies, leaning closer almost conspiratorially. “She told us a lot about you.”

“Mom!”

“You know, you're the first boyfriend she has ever introduced to the family,” she continues. Like she didn't hear your warning at all. It’s like she enjoys embarrassing you.

Johnny grins as he looks back at you briefly. “Really?”

“Mom,” you insist.

“Yes, really. You know how she is…doesn't like talking about her feelings and all that. But she talks about you, so you might be very special.”

“Alright, that's enough. Too much information,” you interrupt, earning a soft chuckle from her and Johnny. Your mom has always been too good at oversharing. That's definitely something you didn't get from her.

You're a lot more like your dad. He's been quiet the entire interaction, simply being there. It's usually like this with them. Your mom likes being the center of attention and your dad prefers to remain as unseen as possible. It's still a mystery to you how they fell in love. Perhaps there's some truth behind all that ‘opposites attract’ logic.

Thankfully, your sister comes to your rescue when she starts yanking your mom's hand. “Mommy, mommy! The superhero lady said she likes my dress!”

“That's very nice of her to say! Did you say thank you?”

Your sister nods, her eyes immediately focusing on Johnny. “You're the one who turns into fire!”

“That’s right,” he replies to her, kneeling to be closer to her height. The gentle tone of his voice when he interacts with her brings a smile to your face. Is it really necessary to be so goddamn cute all the time? “Can I get a high-five?”

He puts his hand up, your sister immediately accepting the high-five with obvious excitement. “Does it hurt when you’re in flames?” she asks almost immediately, genuinely curious to find out the answer.

“Thankfully it doesn't! Could you imagine if it did?”

“You'd probably be in pain all day,” she offers, slightly tilting her head to the side. “If it doesn't hurt, then I think you're the coolest superhero because you can burn things and you can also fly. I would like to do that.”

Johnny can't help but let out a little laugh, mesmerized by how cute she is. “You really think I’m the coolest? That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, thank you so much.”

She walks closer to him, giving Johnny a hug he wasn't necessarily expecting, but immediately returned. You feel like your heart might explode any second now. It’s really not necessary to be so goddamn cute all the time.

“Mommy, can I get a picture with him?”

Your mom gives Johnny a look, as if silently checking if he wouldn't mind taking a photo. He doesn't hesitate one bit, carrying your sister in his arms before the two of them smile for the camera.

Meanwhile, you feel the need to check on your dad. “So?” you ask simply, eyeing him curiously. If Johnny thinks you like to be all cryptic all the time, then he’ll have quite the journey trying to figure out your dad.

There's a brief silence as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, almost like he wants to create some suspense before replying. “I really like him.”

“Oh, you really like him,” you repeat with a playful smile. “Because he can burn things and fly?”

He laughs briefly at your joke. “The eyes,” he says, incredibly casual. You’re almost about to ask what the hell is that supposed to mean before he continues. “I noticed his eyes.”

You don’t dare to say anything else after that, knowing exactly what he’s hinting at. You don’t even want to look back at your dad anymore because he might’ve managed to make you feel even more embarrassed than your mom.

All you can do is stand there, wondering how you’re going to forget the fact that your dad just told you that he instantly liked Johnny because of the way he looks at you.

“You should take a picture together too,” you hear your mom say, making you snap back to reality as she motions for you to join Johnny for a photo.

He puts your little sister back on the ground before affectionately pinching the girl’s cheek, making her giggle. Your dad steps in, grabbing her hand to guide her out of frame.

“How am I doing?” Johnny asks when you're by his side, immediately putting a hand around your waist.

“I think you know the answer.”

Neither of you say anything else, posing for the camera together. You can't help but feel a little self-conscious with both of your families there watching you take photos together– not to mention there’s also a bunch of other people that can't seem to look away from The Fantastic Four.

“You guys look so cute together,” your mom smiles, taking a look at the photos she just took.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As much as you would've liked them to stay, your family had to get back on the road to head back home. Your sister is almost passed out in your dad’s arms and your mom gets extremely nervous driving on highways at night.

“We’d love to have you over next time you're in New York,” Sue says to both of your parents. The idea of them planning visits brings you an indescribable feeling of joy. It’s only further proof that everyone got along just fine today.

“That’d be so cool!” your brother exclaims from the car, excitement evident in his face at the mere thought of stepping foot inside the Baxter Building.

“That’s too kind of you, thank you,” your dad replies as he shakes Reed’s hand. “Hopefully we can come back soon enough.”

“Or you can always visit us,” your mom adds with obvious excitement.

“Heard that?” you ask, walking closer to the car where your brother is sitting. “You can show them all the Fantastic Four posters you have.”

Your brother gets immediately embarrassed by that. “I took those down years ago!”

“We both know you still have them stored in your closet!”

Your brother doesn't say anything else after that, which immediately makes you laugh. “Hey, don’t mind her, kid. I bet those posters are very cool,” Ben chimes in shortly after.

That comment cheers him up almost instantly. “Would you sign them?” he asks, your mom immediately giving him a warning look.

But Ben doesn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, he seems to genuinely like your brother’s enthusiasm. “I’d be honored!"

They all finish saying their goodbye's before your parents finally get in their car and drive off. It's always sad when you have to wave them goodbye, but at least this time you have a second family here in New York City that makes you feel less alone when they're gone.

After officially moving out of your college dorm, you were able to rent your very first apartment. It's nothing fancy by any means, but you were able to achieve it with your savings and a little help from your parents.

Your plan has always been moving permanently to New York City, and even when you don't exactly have a solid plan, at least you’re in the place you want to be– a small apartment, a job in retail that has nothing to do with particle physics, but in New York City. It’s a start. Soon enough you'll figure it out.

“They were lovely,” Sue comments, linking her arm with yours as all of you begin walking to their car. “I was so excited to meet them.”

“I’m glad you all got along.”

“Was Johnny approved?”

“Here we go,” Johnny mutters right after Ben’s question, lightly shaking his head.

“What? I can’t ask questions now?”

“I was actually wondering that myself,” Reed chimes in, which makes Johnny instantly roll his eyes.

“Yeah, of course you are.”

“Someone’s a little defensive today!” Ben jokes, exchanging a complicit look with Reed while Sue just quietly observes their exchange, visibly amused.

“He was very much approved,” you decide to intervene, finally answering the question.

“Ah, that’s good! You should've seen him before we got here today,” Ben starts, giving his friend a light pat on his back. “He was a mess. I thought he was going to have a heart attack at any moment.”

“I think you're overreacting,” Johnny argues..

“Am I overreacting?” he immediately asks Sue and Reed. They don't say anything out loud, but their faces say enough. “Thank you.”

“It's nice to see which side you are on.”

Sue laughs after her brother’s comment. “I didn't say anything!”

“You don't have to if you make that face.”

“Nonesense! I didn't say anything. I’m on no one's side.”

“I am on Ben's side,” Reed immediately clarifies.

“Yes, I know. You’re always on his side,” Johnny replies, unamused. “I don't want you in my team anyway, so I actually don't mind.”

“Really? Because it kinda sounds like you're hurt that he's not in your team.” It seems like there's nothing Ben enjoys more than pissing Johnny off.

“I’m hurt my sister is not on my team.”

“We're all on the same team here,” Sue corrects him as you all reach the car.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be on your team, babe,” you chime in, walking closer to him with a smile on your face that he immediately returns.

“And that's all I need.”

He gives you a quick kiss right after, both of you immediately turning to look at Ben after he makes a sound of disgust. “Keep it PG. This is a family event.”

“It’s not like I pushed her against the car to make out with her,” Johnny replies sarcastically. “I thought about it, but I didn't do it.”

“And sometimes you can keep your thoughts to yourself.”

“And perhaps you can start following your own advice.”

“How about you two get in the car already?” Reed suggests, interrupting their chat before they continue bickering

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Johnny has been staying in your apartment a lot. Like, he practically lives here already. Not like you’re complaining though, because you really enjoy his company.

It’s been a little over a month since you two started officially dating, and that need of being every single second of the day together hasn’t died down one bit. You're pretty sure it'll take you a long time to get over the “honeymoon” phase, as you call it.

“Still no updates?” he asks, watching as you check your email for the hundredth time today. Just then you look away from the screen, eyes focusing on Johnny as he lays down on the couch.

“No,” you reply with a sigh, obviously disappointed. You applied to a few internships here and there, hopeful that one of them will accept you. Any little amount of experience could be useful to find a more stable job in the future. “Not yet.”

He smiles when he hears your last statement. “That's the spirit! Someone will reach out to you. They can't be stupid enough not to.”

You appreciate his words, but there's that pessimistic part of yourself that wants to take over to remind you that it's very much possible that you won’t get an internship. “I’ll just hope for the best.”

He stands up from the couch, walking towards the kitchen counter where you're sitting. “You'll get an internship,” he insists, wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind, resting his chin at the top of your head. “Say it.”

“I don't–”

“No, you have to say it. You need to stay positive, come on!”

“Oh, so you want me to manifest now?” you giggle.

“Is that what it's called?” he asks shortly after. “Whatever it is, it helps. Especially when that little pessimistic head of yours starts acting up.”

You playfully roll your eyes, but you know he's trying to make you feel more confident and positive. “I will get an internship.”

“Yes, you will!”

He gives you enough space to stand up from the stool you were previously seated at, but his hands are soon on your body again as he pulls you close to him.

“Thank you,” you mutter, meaning it tremendously. “I feel like you're always trying to get me to be less negative about…well, everything. I really like that.”

“Hey, I’ll always be here to be insufferably positive for you,” he comments with a small grin. “And to help you manifest.”

His last comment makes you laugh, pulling him in for a hug because fuck is it impossible not be all over him. It's like nothing else matters when he's around. You’re unable to keep your hands to yourself for too long when he’s around.

You've always been good with calculations and analysis, but this right here is something you might never be able to understand or explain in a way that makes sense. It just does not make sense. How could you ever apply any sort of logic to what Johnny makes you feel? It doesn't even feel possible to be this…well, that's as far as you'd allow that thought to go.

But it's very difficult not to let that thought get into your head, to a point where you feel like you might've actually lost your mind because sometimes is all you can think about. And you feel even more crazy when you catch yourself almost saying that thought out loud.

You think about it when he wakes you up with little kisses all over your face. When he constantly checks on you whenever you two are in public because he knows you don't do well with big crowds. When he's excitedly talking to you about a new collectible car he finished building. When he waits for you in bed with one of your makeup headbands on so you could do his skincare before going to sleep. When he thinks he got away with eating almost an entire box of cereal behind your back before dinner. Even when you hear his little snores at night when he's sleeping next to you.

It's impossible not to think about how incredibly in love you are with Johnny, or how terrifying that feeling is because you never imagined that you'd ever feel this way towards anyone. Ever.

How does a feeling like this even exist?!

“Can I manifest that we go to bed earlier tonight?”

Johnny laughs this time, the sound of his laughter somehow makes you feel a trillion times more happy. He moves back from the hug, giving you a quick kiss before letting you go entirely. “I think it's about to come true.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There's nothing like laying in bed with Johnny, the room only illuminated by the moonlight that shines through the window. And there's definitely nothing like having him on top of you, his warm hands underneath your shirt and his lips kissing your neck.

“You know, we could definitely go to bed early more often.”

“I completely agree,” he whispers against your skin, making you almost shiver as his hands move higher up your sides. “You're so pretty…”

He leaves a trace of kisses from your neck to your jaw and then finally he meets your mouth. As silly as it might sound given who Johnny is, everything he does feels addictively fiery. He shows affection to your body with such passionate dedication, it always leaves you begging for more.

From the way his fingers dig onto your skin just enough to the way his mouth devours yours, it's like he's been starving his entire life for you. Like he couldn't possibly get enough, eager to discover more of you and find all the ways he can prove to you just how much he enjoys the privilege that it is to touch you.

Breaking the kiss, he moves a hand up to your face, tracing your skin with his thumb as he just holds you. His eyes scan over your features, silently admiring you.

There's something way too intimate about the way he looks at you, immediately making you feel nervous. “Don't look at me like that,” you whisper sheepishly.

“Like what?” he whispers back, failing to hold back a smirk.

“Like that,” you insist, attempting to roll your head to the side so you could look away, but he immediately grabs your chin to stop it.

“You're so beautiful,” he says not so long after.

You giggle, that dangerous thought from earlier creeping right into your head. You almost have to warn yourself not to say it out loud. “Stop.”

“Am I making you nervous?” he asks, voice low and teasing.

Attempting to look away for a second time, he tightens the grip on your chin just enough. His eyes say it all. A silent authority in them that tells you to stay still.

“Maybe.”

“I’m just admiring how gorgeous my girlfriend is.”

“Well, then stop.”

“Why? It's not a crime.”

“It should be. You're dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” he acts like your comment offends him. “C’mon, I’m a good boy, you have nothing to fear.”

You try to ignore the effect those words have on you as you shake your head. “No, you're not. You’re a public menace.”

He laughs at your last comment, which inevitably makes you laugh too. Your moment of peace doesn't last too long though, because he’s once again contemplating you in silence with that same intensity in his eyes that almost wants to make you hide under a pillow.

And you're about to comment on it again when you hear him speak. It's a faint whisper, but of course you hear it, even if it's quiet– almost like he didn't register that he was saying it out loud.

“I love you.”

It takes you completely by surprise. Never in a million years would you have expected him to say that right here and right now. It's like Earth stopped spinning from the second those words slip past his lips, echoing inside your head as you try to process them.

The realization that he loves you fills you with an incommensurable amount of joy because you couldn't possibly be more lucky to be loved by someone like Johnny. You also feel an insane amount of peace knowing the feeling is very much mutual.

“It's…you don't have to say anything back, by the way,” he eventually speaks, perhaps becoming a bit scared of the fact that you just went completely silent after that confession. “I just–”

You don't let him finish. “I love you.”

He looks a little taken aback at first, but just seconds later he's smiling with obvious excitement. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” you reply immediately, almost upset that he would even dare to question it, but then your expression softens as you look up at him. “I love you so much, Johnny, it's almost scary.”

It's like he can't believe you're saying it again, almost in awe by hearing it coming from your lips. “I love you,” he repeats, in the most sincere and soft tone you've ever heard.

He kisses you again, with that characteristic passion that makes your head spin. But there's something even better about this kiss now. Everything you experience with and because of Johnny might start feeling just that much better now that you know he's in love with you.

Unfortunately, you have to break the kiss when you abruptly feel the entire ground beneath you shaking. At first you thought it might've been an earthquake, but when the floor is shaking again and Johnny's bracelet starts beeping, you know there's something else going on.

He immediately stands up, dressing as quickly as possible. All you can do is sit in bed and watch, the floor once again shaking. Things around your room have fallen to the ground and you hear the commotion outside.

Johnny briefly sits down on the bed with you, hurriedly grabbing your hand. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” he says, trying to bring you some sort of peace in the midst of this uncertain situation.

“Please, be safe.”

He offers you a smile before giving you a quick kiss. “Always,” he says, as casual and playful as usual, right before rushing out of your apartment.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You practically sat in front of the television all night, watching everything unfold. The Mole had apparently had enough of the surface world, assembling an army of his people to invade New York City. It seemed fitting to attack at night, given many of them can’t stand the sunlight for that long.

Luckily, Johnny and the rest were quick to stop his plans before he got the chance to reach the surface so, although the earthquakes created by his underground devices caused some damage to several buildings, the worst was definitely avoided.

Reed held a small press conference after the villain was officially detained, explaining the overall situation and calming the public before leaving all the diplomatic chatter to Sue, who’s a lot more qualified when it comes to negotiating peace with the people of Subterranea. Ben and Johnny just stood behind them in silence.

It was about two in the morning when Johnny finally made it back to your apartment. You immediately pull him in for a tight hug. “Are you okay?” you ask him, evidently worried, which he can’t help but find incredibly adorable.

“I’m much better now that I’m with you,” he replies to lighten the mood, but he can tell you’re still worried. “Seriously, I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

You take a step back to look at him, almost as if just by looking into his eyes you could immediately tell if he’s lying and there’s an injury he’s not telling you about. He offers you a smile, gently rubbing a hand up and down your arm in an attempt to calm you down.

“And the rest?”

“We’re all good. Sue will have lots of fun tomorrow trying to get some sense into Elder’s head, though.”

“You think he’ll attack the surface again?”

Johnny really doesn’t want you to keep worrying about it, especially if your concerns come from simple speculation. “I mean…he can certainly try. That’s about all he’ll be able to do.”

His comment does help to bring a smile to your face. “Right. Because we just have such great heroes.”

“Yup,” he immediately agrees, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you towards him. You don’t reject his advances one bit, leaning in to kiss him. He makes a sound of contentment against your lips, immediately tightening his grip around you. “I was already missing this,” he mutters.

“Don’t get too clingy on me, Johnny.” It’s only half a warning, because you couldn’t care any less if he decides to keep his arms around you all day.

“Too late,” he grins, pausing briefly before continuing. “I love you.” It’s like he can’t stop saying it now.

And, of course, you can’t get enough either. “I love you too.”

Johnny gives you one last kiss before stepping away from you, slightly stretching his arms with obvious signs of tiredness. “I think I’ll take a shower before bed,” he announces with a sigh. “You’re welcome to join me if you like.”

“Very tempting, but I’ll pass for now.”

He inevitably pouts at your reply. “You won’t even join me as a little ‘thank you’ for saving the city again?”

His words make you roll your eyes, walking past him to your bedroom. “Maybe if you don’t take too long in the shower, I might give you a thank you or two before sleep.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

previous part

taglist: @00rangeshoney @dearwalker

#johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x you #johnny storm fic #johnny storm fanfic #johnny storm fanfiction #johnny storm fluff

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0deathpainting0 · 2 days ago

Text

suburban heaven

sukuna // geto // nanami // toji

sum: like 1950s pliant tradwife who’s brain is fuzzy from her happy pills but just wants to make her hard working husband happy ♡ idk maybe some don’t worry darling vibes but you’re like so okay with it ♡

warnings: 18+ f!reader, swearing, one glass of whiskey, pill use(non specified but kinda quaalude/xanax vibe), they feed you your pills bc they’re so so sweet, praise kink, control kink, pretty much free use, fingering, oral(m+f), somno, spit, cockwarming, p in v, raw, creampies, talk of pregnancy, breeding kink, pet names(baby, darling, sweetheart, good girl, wife)

a/n: um yeah i need this desperately ! ps first time writing for nanami ! idk this idea felt nanami coded cuz he just adores his perfect wife !!

w/c: 5509

♡ ♡ ♡

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

sukuna - 1302

Sukuna always has long, hard days at work but knows he gets to come home to you. His little airhead wife who takes your ‘obedience pills’ straight from his fingers like the good girl you are every morning. You wait for him on the couch without a thought in your mind and the sweetest little smile on your lips.

“Look at my wife.” his hand grabs your cheeks as you blink up at him. “You been good today?” he looks around the house. “Looks good. Keeping my house clean and my cock wet are the only things you need to worry this pretty little head about.” his other hand starts to creep up your thigh.

“I missed you.” you spread your thighs for him.

“I bet you did.” his hands cup your warm pussy. “You start dinner?” he lets a finger trail up your slit.

“Yes, Sukuna.” voice breathy as you blink up at him.

“Show me what you’re making.” he removes his hands and pulls you up off the couch. “Look at you, wobbly from a couple touches.” he chuckles, guiding you into the kitchen.

“‘s in the oven.” you turn and smile up at him. “Your favorite.”

“Smells good.” he steps closer to you until you’re pressed back against the counter. “Think I’m gonna have my other favorite before dinner.” his hands are on your waist and lifting you up to the counter.

“Anything you want.” you nod, spreading your thighs for him once more.

“Lemme get your afternoon pill.” he turns and reaches up in the cabinet pulling down a sealed jar with a label in his handwriting that says ‘good girls obedience pills’. “Open up f’me.” he grabs your chin and your jaw opens. “That’s good.” he hums and pushes the pill to the back of your throat “Keep it open.” you look up at him with round eyes as he spits into your mouth and watches you swallow.

“Thank you.” you push your tongue out and show him that you took it.

“My perfect wife.” he grins.

His tongue is shoved into your mouth and you lean against him, head still floating in the clouds and about to get a little more hazy. His hands push your dress up again and fumble with his pants. Sukuna is already dragging his cock head up and down your folds, grinning at how fast you get wet. He pushes against your core watching as your eyes flutter shut.

“Nahh, keep those empty eyes open f’me, doll.” he keeps slowly pushing in. “There you are.” he scoots you closer to the edge of the counter and starts properly fucking you.

His thrusts are mean and demanding. They send shockwaves throughout your body as he pounds you on the kitchen counter. Your arms are clinging onto his shoulders and he kisses you roughly. His teeth sink into your lip, chuckling at your small cry. He brings a hand down and lets his thumb circle your clit just to feel you start flutter around him.

“Yeah, gonna milk my fuckin cock?” he grunts, fucking into you faster. “Want me to stuff you nice and full before dinner, sweetheart?”

“Yes Kuna, please!” you shutter against him as your orgasm slams through you.

“Pussy’s begging to be filled too. She’s such a good girl asking for what she wants.” he starts to fill you with his cum, fucking it into you until the creaminess sticks and smacks between the both of you.

Sukuna pulls out and watches as his cum leaks out of you before he pulls your dress back down and helps you off the counter. He gives you a smack on the ass as you start to check on dinner and get everything ready. You smile at him so sweetly as he reclines at the dinner table watching you fret around the kitchen without a clue that he can see his cum sliding down your thighs.

♡ ♡ ♡

Sukuna wakes you up in the morning by sliding his cock into your still cum stuffed pussy from the round before bed. He starts off slow, listening to your soft whimpers as he works your body open. His cock is already coming out creamy and the sight makes him snap his hips into you. Your eyes flutter open as high pitched moans spill from your lips.

“Shhhh my pretty little wife.” his fingers dig into your hips. “I got you. Just focus on the feeling.” his thrusts are almost punishing at how deeply he’s stroking your sensitive walls.

Sukuna brings a hand to your throat when he leans down to capture your lips with his. His tongue is quick to push past your lips and claim your mouth the same way he does with the rest of your body. Your legs are trembling on either side, still so sensitive from the night before.

“Gonna milk me again, sweetheart?” he chuckles. “It’s like you wanna get knocked up.” your pussy spasms around him. “Ohh is that it? Wanna carry my kids? Gimme a family n’ everything?” he’s full out panting now.

“Please yes!” you cum hard at the thought and he follows suit.

“Then lemme keep fucking it into you.” he rocks his hips into you, fucking his cum deeper inside you.

He stays buried in you for what you feel like is hours and when he finally pulls out, you whine at the loss. His fingers brush your cheeks surprisingly tenderly before he lifts himself out of bed. You blink up at the ceiling, limbs still feeling so heavy, eyelids starting to droop.

“Open up, sweetheart. Got your morning dose.” he places the pill in your mouth, hovering just above you as he spits into the back of your throat and you swallow. “That’s good.” he brushes your hair back. “‘m staying home today.” he hums. “Gonna keep filling you til I’m sure it sticks.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Sukuna watches you slowly wake up after your morning rounds. Your lashes flutter as you sit up and jump at the sight of him, must’ve forgotten he stayed home. He chuckles and presses his lips to yours and you melt back into him.

“You forget I was home, sweetheart?” he mumbles against your lips, hands falling to your waist to pull you closer.

“Mhm.” you cling onto his arms. “I should make you lunch.” he kisses you harder.

He lifts you from the bed, never breaking the kiss and brings you to the kitchen. Once he sets you down, you begin cooking as he takes a seat, watching you work with a satisfied grin on his face. You set two plates down and go to take your seat but his hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to him.

“Got a seat for you right here.” he pushes back in his chair and you see his cock hard and waiting.

He helps you stand between his legs and sits you back right on his cock. He slides in easy with the help of his cum from earlier. You let out an airy sigh when your back meets his chest when he’s fully sheathed inside you. You lean with him when he starts to eat but you can’t focus on anything besides the feel of him filling you.

“Doin good f’me.” he whispers in your ear and reaches over to slide your plate closer.

Sukuna feeds you and hums after every bite you take. Getting to take care of you when you’re so soft and pilant is something he rarely gets to do. Today you’ve just let him fill you over and over, slowly watching your head fill with clouds. So for being such a good girl, a perfect wife for him he decides you deserve to be fed as you sit on his cock.

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geto - 1446

Suguru wakes you with the softest caresses on your face and a warm cup of tea waiting for you on the night stand. He watches you blink your eyes open and stretch out like a sunbathed cat, yawning and making the cutest sounds. He leans down and presses his lips to yours. Warm, coaxing, lolling.

“How did my pretty baby sleep?” he mumbles against your lips before placing one last kiss on your forehead.

“Good.” you blink up at him with a soft smile.

“Ready for your morning tea?” he brushes your hair back. “I already put your special vitamins in there and added honey.” he hums as you lean into his hand, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Suguru brings the tea cup to your lips and you take a generous sip, feeling the warmth spread down your body. He keeps bringing the cup up to your mouth until its contents are empty and your eyes are a little more spacey. He helps you out of bed and wraps you in your silk robe before helping you take your seat at your vanity.

He helps tame your hair and makes sure it’s prim and neat before he helps you up again and brings you to your closet. He pulls down his favorite dress of yours and turns to find you already taking your robe off for him. “Always such a good girl for me.” his fingers brush your chin as he places his lips on yours again.

Suguru helps you into the dress and stalks around you until his hands are softly grazing your spine before he starts with the buttons. Each button warrants a kiss on your neck that makes your mind melt a little more. When he’s done he finds you breathless and leaning back on him.

“I’m going to get dressed.” you nod knowing that it’s time for you to head down stairs and prepare his lunch.

Suguru thinks about how absolutely perfect you are every morning. Throughout his workday. Every night he comes home. Before bed. You’re his perfect little doll. The most perfect wife. Who does anything and everything he asks. Who never questions, always nods your head with a smile. Who takes him so perfectly, so pliantly.

Suguru finds you down stairs waiting for him with his lunch and your sweet smile and glossy doe eyes looking up at him. This is his routine with you every morning. His fingers rest on your throat as he presses his lips to yours again before he leaves for the day. Your little whimpers are his goodbye as he pulls you closer.

“I’ll see you after work.” another kiss. “Be good.” one last kiss to your cheek before he walks out the front door.

“Always, Suguru.” you wave at him from the door as he walks to his car.

♡ ♡ ♡

Suguru opens the front door after work, smile turning a little more feral when he finds you kneeling on your lace ruffled pillow. He clicks the door shut and saunters over to you as you wait for him with your hands in your lap. His fingers brush your jaw and you tilt your head up to him. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip before slowly pushing into your warm mouth.

“I missed you.” his words cause your eyes to flutter. “Did you miss me?” he slowly pulls his thumb out.

“I always do.” you blink up at him.

“Yeah?” his hands go to his belt to loosen it. “You wanna show me how much?” his pops the button on his pants and the zipper is next.

“Yes, Suguru.” you open your mouth for him, letting your tongue slide out at the same time he pulls his cock out.

“My perfect wife.” he traces his tip across your lips.

He slowly pushes his cock into your mouth, groaning lowly as your lips wrap around him, cheeks suctioning just how he likes. You keep your eyes on his as he sets the pace, happy to just be there and have him in your mouth. Every brush against your throat, every stolen breath has your mind feeling a bit more dizzy.

“So good for me, so perfect.” he coos as his fingers caress your jaw.

Suguru wipes the tears that spill over the edge. You keep looking up at him, through tears and moans as he continues to drag his cock in and out of your mouth. He never lasts too long when he first gets home. The sight of you, how perfect you are, how willing always makes his balls tighten. He looks at you with pure adoration and love that he gets to come home to this everyday. His cock twitches and you feel him start to fill your throat with his warmth.

“So good.” he brushes your hair back, hips stilling. “Taking everything I give you.” he slowly pulls out.

He pulls his pants back up and watches you still wait on your knees for him. His fingers swipe up the remaining cum and he pushes them into your mouth so you can clean them off. You accept the hands he offers you as he pulls you up and presses his lips to yours. He brings you to the kitchen and prepares another cup of tea for you.

“Thank you, Suguru.” you hum as he brings the tea cup to your lips.

“Anything for my perfect baby.” he preens, bringing the cup to your lips once more and smoothing your hair. “Now let's go get you your afternoon tea.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Suguru loves his evening showers with you. Lights dim, candles lit, bathroom steamy, you naked and leaning against him. He washes your hair with his shampoo and smiles when you wrap your arms around his waist as he cleans you. Your eyes are heavy as you try to keep looking at him but they’re slowly drooping more with every scratch of his nails on your scalp.

“My baby’s so sleepy.” he cups your face once you’re both fully washed. “So warm, so soft.” his hands start sliding all over your wet body as steam continues to build. “Wanna sit with me for a little bit?” you nod your head.

He leads you over to the sitting ledge in the shower and helps you onto his lap. He lifts your hips and sets you right down onto his cock, watching your face relax in sweet pleasure. “Ohh that feel good, baby? Like when I fill you like this?” he slowly starts to rock you against him. “Yeah, that’s right.” he nods, feeling you start to tremble. “Just lemme take care of you.” he nods as he lifts you up and down on his cock.

“Thank you, Sugu.” your head rests against his shoulder as he uses you. “Thank you.” you pant and whine into his neck.

“Of course, baby.” he coos.

Suguru loves the way you fall apart for him so quickly. One of his favorite parts of your special tea. Always makes you so warm, so wet, so sensitive. You cry out his name so sweetly as you cum around him, shaking softly. He knows you’ll cum at least two more times before he fills you and he talks you through them so calmly.

“That’s it, pretty.” he nods, hands bringing you closer. “S’okay to cum. Show me how much you love me.” he coaxes as you pulse around him again, brain fully fuzzy. “Stay with me, baby. Gonna cum with me next.” his voice is wrecked.

The feel of you and the warmth surrounding him send him closer to the edge. He’s moving you so leisurely, fucking you slowly agaisnt him, dragging out the pleasure for the both of you. Cock dragging against your sensitive walls so agonizingly slow you’re both shaking.

“Gonna fill you up and then tuck you into bed.” he whispers and you nod quickly. “Make sure you’re full all night. Get you pregnant so you can raise our kids.” you nod your head so quickly you get dizzy. “Yeah?” he chuckles lowly. “Won’t be long til it takes.” he mumbles, his pleasure coiling at the thought.

With a couple more thrusts you’re coming undone and he’s filling you until it’s leaking out the sides where his cock is still buried in you. Your eyes are shut as he turns the water off and carries you out of the shower. He dries you both off and scoops you up once more to bring you to bed. The lights are off and he slips in beside you, humming softly as you curl against him, thinking about how he gets to do this all again tomorrow.

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nanami - 1603

Kento has a routine for everything. He wakes before you and makes breakfast. He doesn’t care that wives are ‘supposed’ to cook for their husbands. He likes you exactly the way you are. Sleepy and pliant. You look at him with your big eyes and soft smile like he’s created this perfect world for you. And he has.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” he mumbles against your forehead after he presses his lips to your soft skin.

“‘m so sleepy.” you slowly blink your eyes open.

“I know, I know.” he presses a soft kiss to your lips and helps you sit up. “You can go back to bed when I go to work, yeah? Stay all warm for me under the covers?” he offers you his open palm with your pill and a cup of juice in the other.

“Thank you, Kento.” you pop the pill in your mouth and wash it down with some juice.

“Finish your juice. You know you’ll get a tummy ache if you don’t.” he raises his brow at you.

“I know, ‘m sorry.” you say sheepishly, before finishing your cup.

“Don’t apologize.” he shakes his head and takes your empty cup. “Want a bath before I go to work?” he cups your face and strokes his thumb across your flush.

“Please?” you lean into his touch.

He scoops you out of the bed and carries you into the bathroom. He sets you on the counter and starts to fill the tub before he turns to you. He peels your night dress off your body and watches your skin pebble. He lets his fingers roam all over you as he sees your eyes become more glossed over.

“Ready?” he scoops you up again.

“Mhm.” you nod and he gently places you in the bathtub.

Your mind is warmer than the water you’re soaking in as he softly rubs sweet smelling soap against your skin. He hums as he dotes on you, watching your eyes fight to stay open as he takes care of you, his precious little wife. Kento shushes you when his fingers slip between your thighs.

“Just be good for me, sweetheart.” he pushes two long fingers into you and watches you sink lower into the tub. “Shh shh, it’s okay.” he presses small kisses along your hairline as he works his fingers into you.

“Ken!” you breathlessly whine, grabbing onto his arm as his thumb circles your clit lazily. “Please.”

“You can cum.” he nods. “Then I’ll tuck you in for a nap.” your thighs are squeezing around his hand as he curls his fingers. “Sounds good?” he purrs.

You cum with soft cries of his name while he works you through it. Offering you soft praise as you eyes shut. He lifts you out of the tub, drying you off before putting you into a new sleep dress. He brings you back to bed and kisses you goodbye with whispers that he’ll see you when he’s done with work.

♡ ♡ ♡

When Kento walks through the front door he’s greeted with the smell of something sugary sweet. He hears you humming in the kitchen and follows the soft sound. You’re just finishing up the dishes as a fresh pie cools on the counter. His heart swells at the sight, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It smells divine, darling.” he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Want me to cut you a slice? It should be ready.” you turn in his grasp.

“I would love that.” he leans down and presses his lips to yours.

He takes a seat at the table and you begin preparing a slice for him. You bring it over on a plate and he watches you with a soft smile. You lean back against the table and watch him take the first bite and he beams up at you.

“You’ve out done yourself.” he takes another bite before bringing some up to your mouth. “See how good you did.” you wrap your lips around the fork.

“Thank you, Ken.” you smile at him.

“Though, I think you might be sweeter.” he watches you flush. “I should have a taste just to compare.” he pushes the pie away and lifts you onto the table in front of him.

He slowly scrunches your dress up and you plant your hands behind you for support. He scoots his chair back and pulls your hips closer to the edge of the table before glancing up at you. Your pupils are blown and you’re chewing on your lip as he starts to lower his head. He places one kiss on your covered pussy and you whine.

“Kento!” your hips jerk a little when he repeats the action.

He pulls your panties to the side and groans at the sight of you. He licks a long stripe up your pussy and looks up at your pleasure scrunched face. His arms wrap around your legs as he attaches his mouth to your clit. Your little sounds fill the kitchen along with your juices sliding down his chin.

“So much better.” he whispers between your thighs.

He licks back down to your core and pushes his tongue into you, moaning at the taste. Your legs tremble on either side of his head as you softly grind against his face. Kento gets lost in you like this. You’re always so sensitive, so docile. You’d let him eat you for hours on this kitchen table.

He flattens his tongue and licks back up to your clit before sucking the slick bud into his mouth. Your legs squeeze his head as his tongue flicks against it quickly in between soft sucks. You're whining his name, babbling as your pleasure pools quickly in your lower tummy. He glances up at you just in time to see your orgasm wash through you with a broken cry. His tongue licks you through it, lapping up everything you have to offer him.

“You’re pie was amazing sweetheart, but I can never get enough of you.” he hums, pulling your dress back down.

♡ ♡ ♡

Kento's night time routine might be his favorite of the day. Your after dinner pill makes you especially clingy and gives him ample time to take care of you exactly how you need. He helps you change into your night dress with scattered kisses throughout. Next is face washing, followed by hair brushing. Praise of how perfect you are for him. More kisses, lingering touches.

“My perfect little wife.” he coos as he carries you back into the room.

“Need you.” you whine when he lays you back on the bed.

“I’m right here.” he nods, climbing into bed with you.

You keep pleading and pulling on him and he can’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly what you need. He hovers over you and presses his lips to yours. Your legs wrap around his waist, trying to pull him closer. His cock slides up your folds and you sigh dreamily into his mouth.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.” he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth before littering them across your cheek, down your jaw, slowly making his way to your neck, all while softly rubbing his tip through your wetness.

He slowly pushes at your core and your pussy sucks his tip in, already fluttering. He props himself up to watch your face relax in pleasure after every inch. You take him so well, giving him soft little whimpers when he circles your clit as he keeps pushing in. You’re always so sensitive by bed time that he knows when he bottoms out as he plays with your clit you’ll..

“Kento!” you hold onto his shoulders as you cum around him softly shaking.

“You’re so very good for me.” he presses his lips to your forehead. “Just lay here and let me make you feel so good, yeah?” he slowly starts to rock into you.

You just nod your head and tremble beneath him. He presses soft kisses all over your face as he starts to pump into you. Your legs wrap around his waist, trying to get impossibly closer to him. Each thrust is reverent and filled with passion that your body is already on the cusp again.

“So perfect.” he whispers when you arch into him, falling apart again with his name on your tongue. “So beautiful.” he presses his lips to yours.

“Please..” he knows what you're asking for and his stomach tightens.

“I’ll fill you. Don’t worry.” he whispers against your mouth. “You’re going to a perfect mother.” he watches your lip wobble as you nod desperately. “Raise our children so gently.” the more he talks the closer he gets.

“Kento please.” you whine.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” he nods, hips faltering as you feel the first burst of warmth. “There we go.” his words slightly strained as he slowly pumps his cum into you. “Did so good.” he finally stills, lips pressing to yours once more. “You just go to bed. I’m going to stay in for a little bit. Make sure it really sticks.” he nods watching you melt back into your pillow.

When he finally pulls out, you let out a little sigh at the loss but remain asleep. Kento moves a pillow under your hip to ensure nothing leaks out of you while you sleep. He cleans up the stickiness between your thighs before finally laying back in bed next to you. He places a soft kiss on your forehead, laying back with a smile on his face.

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toji - 1158

Toji is a complicated man who loves his ditzy little wife. You were always a little bit of an airhead but once he started giving you your ‘perfect wife pills’ you’ve become every man’s dream. Head a little spacey, eyes glossed over, with a saccharine smile painted on your face. He loves you like this, docile and pilant.

Every morning he grabs your pill and a cup of water, setting them both of the night stand before sliding back into bed with you. He props up against the headboard and slowly pulls you onto his lap.

“Toji..” you whine, curling against him as he shifts your hips to rock you against his cock. “Mmph !” you gasp and softly moan into his neck as he continues to move you against him, getting you wet and ready.

“You know I gotta go to work soon.” he lines his cock up with your entrance. “Be good f’me baby.” he slowly starts to push you down on his cock.

Once he’s got you flush with his thighs he pulls you out from his neck so he can see your blissed out face. You slowly blink at him, eyes slightly blurring as he rolls his hips up. He sifts to grab your pill and water and you clench around him at the feeling. When he’s upright again he grins, finding your mouth open to take your pill. He places it on your tongue and helps to take a sip of water.

“That’s my good girl.” he pulls your lips to his.

This was the best part about his mornings. Your pussy squeezing his cock so sweetly as you whimper into his mouth. He ruins you so softly, so thoroughly in the mornings that he is always amazed at the state he finds you in when he gets home from work everyday.

♡ ♡ ♡

No matter how long his work day was, Toji knows that you’ll be waiting at home for him in a pretty dress with eyes glossier than your lips. He walks through the front door and you practically float out of the kitchen with a glass of whiskey to greet him. He pulls you in for a chaste kiss before taking the glass from your hand and walking to the couch.

He knows you’re following him, can practically feel the warmth radiating off of you. He sits back and you take small steps closer so you’re standing between his thighs that he spreads open for you. He brings the glass to his lips as you slowly sink to the floor. You rub your hands up his thighs, blinking up at him as you reach for his button.

“Go on, doll.” he nods.

You smile up at him and work on pulling his cock out. He takes another sip as your fingers wrap around him and you scoot closer to press small kisses across his tip and shaft. His breathing deepens when you suck his tip into your mouth, tongue lapping against his leaking slit. You’re slow with your movements, savoring every drop, every inch.

“That’s good.” he lets his head rest on the back of the couch.

Sometimes he’ll guide you but today is one of the days he’s content to let you suck at him in your hazy state. You hum and slop around him, one hand softly resting at his base and the other cupping his balls, gently massaging. He lifts up to watch you work him sweetly and his cock twitches when his eyes land on you. He finishes his whiskey and discards the glass to give you his full attention.

“You wantin my cum down this perfect little throat?” he brushes your hair back and you nod, bobbing your head faster. “Yeah? Swallow it all baby and we’ll go get your afternoon pill.” his balls tighten in your hand.

Your cheeks suction harder, spit down your chin as you blink up at him with eyes filled with adoration. Tongue softly coaxing him to spill down your throat, fingers still gently massaging. You take him to the back of your throat and he twitches, sending his cum down your throat.

“My perfect little wife.” he hums, pulling out of your mouth.

You help him back into his pants as he softly strokes your cheek. He helps you up and you walk to the kitchen leaning against his arm. He grabs your pills down and places one on your tongue before grabbing you some water. You lean against him with love in your eyes as he places his lips to yours once more.

“Gonna start dinner?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Mhm!” you nod and shoo him out of the kitchen.

♡ ♡ ♡

“You always look so fuckin perfect like this.” Toji stands at the edge of the bed as you're laid out in a skimpy sheer and lace night dress. “Gonna look even better when you finally start growin with my kid.” he crawls into bed over you.

He splays a hand over your tummy and keeps whispering about knocking you up. Toji slowly pulls your night dress up and starts teasing you, watching the way you squirm under him. He nips and sucks at your neck as he works you beneath him, listening to your soft cries.

“Yeah, baby? Feelin so so good?” he chuckles when your thighs start to tremble. “Lemme push in there and feel.” your mind melts for the rest of the night as he starts to split you open on his cock. “Ohhh there you go, don’t gotta think about nothin but me.” he coos so sweetly as he bottoms out.

He slowly rocks into you, relishing in the way your walls flutter around him and suck him in. He grabs your leg and wraps it around his waist and you follow by doing the same with the other. The new angle sends you into a frenzy, feeling the pleasure rise.

“So sensitive, huh?” his breath fans across your face.

“Mmyeah.. Toj..” you can’t even keep your eyes open.

“Shh baby.” he kisses the side of your mouth.

Your body jolts when he brings two fingers to circle your clit. It’s almost instantaneous that your orgasm washes through you. He rocks you through the whole thing, working your body just for him. Your pussy doesn’t let up, spasming around him, just begging for him to fill you.

“I know, I know. Gonna fill you up just how you like.” he nods, sweat beading on his forehead.

With a few more thrusts that you feel all the way in your tummy he fills you with his warmth. Continues rocking it in you and keeping his cock buried deep inside. When he pulls out, you’re already fast asleep, leaking with his cum. He pulls your night dress down and helps you under the covers with soft praise and two fingers in your sensitive pussy making sure none of his cum goes to waste.

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masterlist

i want my brain to be on the level where im like yeah lemme put a fkn ham in a jello ! and then lay down and spread my legs for my hard working husband ♡

262 notes · View notes

woniedarlin · 2 days ago

Note

HI HI HII ! I GENUINELY LOVED YOUR RECENT WORK SM?? You did amazing by the way, it actually gave me whiplash when you said you haven’t been feeling your write like what, there's no way??

I ALSO WANTED TO REQUEST A JUNGWON X READER STORY !!! it’s like.. a marriage of convenience / arranged marriage typa thing, but like reader wants divorce from Jungwon on the same day because she’s in love with someone else?? But then gradually stuff happens idk what but then they become best friends and you can take care of the rest, I'm not really that creative 😭

Oops, I Caught Feelings

Pairing: Husband! Jungwon x fem! reader ft. Sunghoon

Genre: Marriage of Convenience / Arranged Marriage

Synopsis: You love your parents. You do, but when they hand you a marriage contract and a husband you barely know, things get complicated, especially since you’re in love with someone else. So, what’s the first thing you do after the ceremony? Ask for a divorce. Jungwon somewhat agrees, and you strike a deal: three months, then it’s over. But as the weeks go by, you start to wonder…What happens when your temporary husband begins to feel permanent?

Author's Note: Oh myyy!! Thank you so much for your sweet words, anonie! This request was so fun to write. I had such a good time putting it together, and I also apologize because this request was sent 2 months ago. I tried my best with this, took a longg time to write. Happy reading, my darlings. Mwah mwah 💋

Caution: This story includes themes of arranged marriage, emotional conflict, and occasional cursing. Expect tension, stubborn hearts, and arguments. Let me know if there is more!

Permanent taglist: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy @firstclassjaylee @ijustwannareadstuff20

“Let’s get a divorce soon.”

You say it as if you’re asking for salt. You were calm and unapologetic. Across the table, Jungwon pauses mid-sip of water. He didn’t choke or flinch at your words but only set the glass down and looked at you with a mild expression, trying to decide if he had misheard. “Well,” he says after a moment, “that was fast.”

You shrug, feeling the zipper of your wedding gown dig into your spine as you moved a little. “I might as well be honest. There’s no point in dragging this out.” It’s late, and the reception ended an hour ago. Your heels are off, and your lipstick has faded into a soft bruise. Jungwon’s tie is loosened and slanted, and his jacket has been discarded behind him. His elbow rests on the armrest and studies you. His eyes weren’t unfriendly but observant, more than anything. You wonder if he’s trying to read you or if he’s just tired like you are. “Did I do something wrong?” he asks, with an almost disarming softness.

“No,” you reply, “You’ve been decent.” The words sound bland, but they’re honest. What more could you even say? It’s not like you knew each other well before this arrangement. “That’s oddly formal,” he mutters, raising an eyebrow. You let out a quiet laugh and said. “That’s me being generous.”

He lets a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth for a second. You vaguely remember him from when you were kids. It was only a few scattered memories from family events or shared acquaintances. He was polite and always slipped away before the adults could rope him into small talk. It’s strange to be married to someone who once existed at the edge of your childhood vision. “I’m in love with someone else,” you say, suddenly. It was silent for a moment after that.

“Ah,” he says at last.

You wet your lips, unsure of what else to add. “That’s not why I said yes to this. I didn’t know we’d go through with it, but I think we should… call it.”

“Do they love you back?” he asks.

Your eyes look to the window before answering. “I don’t know. ”

“Huh.” He taps his fingers against the table, then gives a soft sigh. “That sucks.”

You were caught off guard. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say? Fight for your honor? Burn the marriage certificate?” There’s no heat in his words but dry sarcasm. It’s so casual that you don’t even know how to respond for a moment. “You’re surprisingly chill about all this,” you mutter.

“I just got into a marriage with someone I barely know, who’s already in love with someone else,” he says, standing and stretching a little. “I think I’ve earned the right to be chill.” He looks at you with a half-smile, as if to say, Welcome to the club. You glance at him, this time with curiosity. “I didn’t think you’d be this reasonable.”

Jungwon lets out a soft scoff. “Don’t let it fool you.” You walk beside each other in silence, footsteps against the soft carpet, and for a second, it almost feels like a dream where nothing makes sense but everything feels strangely okay. It’s bizarre: this night, this marriage, this shared nonchalance. You don’t hate him. You don’t like him either, but for some reason, there’s an ease to this you didn’t expect. At the elevator, Jungwon presses the button. “So how long do you want to pretend we’re not planning a divorce?”

“Three months?” you say. “It’s enough to let everyone settle down.” Your voice feels lighter now as the tension begins to thin.

He nods. “Room rules?”

“Don’t touch my coffee.”

“Don’t leave hair in the drain.”

“Don’t talk to me before ten.”

“Deal.”

The elevator doors open, and you both step inside. Two strangers , acquaintances, or perhaps two accidental allies. It’s strange how easily it all clicks and how little effort it takes to reach an understanding. The hotel suite is massive. You step in first, followed by the soft thud of Jungwon dragging both of your bags. For a second, you only stare. You’re unsure if it’s the room or the fact that it’s your honeymoon and no one is smiling. He walks over to the couch, drops the bags with a grunt, and rolls his shoulders back. “Pick your side,” he says, nodding toward the king-sized bed. “Or the couch is mine if you snore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I don’t snore.”

“That’s what they all say,” he shrugs. You toss your bag onto the left side of the bed and start peeling off your earrings. Jungwon watches you before heading to the minibar. He opens it, reviews the contents, and pulls out a juice bottle. “So,” he says, unscrewing the cap, “what does someone in love do on their fake honeymoon?”

You glance at him. “To answer your question, I think about not being in love.”

He chuckles. “Deep.”

You flop onto the bed and ask. “Do you think they’ll notice?”

“The lack of Instagram posts? PDA? Matching robes?” He raises a brow. “Perhaps, or they won’t care. This isn’t really about us anyway.”

“No,” you murmur, “it never was.” You feel the bed dip as Jungwon sits down, keeping the right amount of space between you two. Not too close and not too far. Enough to remind each other you’re still strangers. Then Jungwon speaks, “You didn’t plan to marry me, hm?”

“No.” You turn your head slightly. “I didn’t plan to marry anyone.”

He nods. “I get that.”

The night moves on like that. Silent but not awkward. You take turns in the bathroom, fold away your clothes into designated drawers without speaking much. He doesn’t try to make conversation, nor do you, but you have a strange, unspoken understanding. Either respect or simple exhaustion. You’re both too tired to pretend to be in love, but not cold enough to be enemies. Later, you lie on opposite sides of the bed with backs turned. Jungwon speaks again. “I’m not gonna ask about him, but don’t break your own heart on my account, alright?”

And with those words, you appreciated what he said.

💍

The next morning is too bright for your mood. Jungwon’s in the living room now, watching some muted news report on the TV. You sit on the bed and think of him.

Sunghoon.

It still stings to say his name even in your head. You’d been in love with him for years. It wasn’t all-consuming, but a love built itself through shared playlists, and all the things left unsaid from you. You didn’t need to confess immediately because there was time, or so you thought. There were plans. You were going to tell him soon. You’d even picked the day at the cafe he always liked, with messy walls and big cakes. You were finally ready but the marriage happened. You never got to tell him.

Now you’re with Jungwon. You’re married and while your heart is somewhere else, your respect is here, in this man who didn’t choose you either, but still meets you halfway. You will choose to do things right, even if they’re not what you wanted.

💍

“You’re not gonna stay cooped up in the room the whole trip, are you?” Jungwon asks, slipping his sunglasses on as the sun peeks from behind the clouds. Your brow raised, and you replied. “You say that as if we’re here for vacation.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. You seem the type who’d hate being stuck inside.”

You sighed. “Fine, but if this becomes a cheesy bonding experience, I’m leaving you at a bus stop.”

Jungwon smirks. “You think I’d wait for you?”

You end up wandering around the area. There weren’t quite tourists and strangers. A while later, you both settle on a beach mat watching the ocean waves. Out of nowhere, you said, “His name is Sunghoon.” Jungwon turns his head but says nothing right away. You add, “I just thought you should know.” He finally speaks. “You don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you cut in gently. “I want to.”

You take a breath. “I’ve known him for years. We weren’t a couple or anything, but we are close friends. I always thought that maybe… one day, I’d tell him how I felt. I even had this dumb plan. There’s this little cafe in town that we always went to. I thought that would be the place.” You paused. “But the moment never came because this marriage happened and now… It’s something I keep in the back of my head.” You glance at him, offering a tired smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve never entertained him, and I've never tried to reach out that way. I’m married now. I take that seriously.” You turned to look at the people passing by. “Anyway, that’s that.” Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a long time. Then he speaks, “I meant it, you know… what I said before. Don’t break your own heart on my account.”

“I’m not,” you say softly. “It’s already been agreed, hasn’t it? Three months. We go home, thank our parents for the opportunity, and then part ways. No drama at all.” He nods. You can feel him watching you, even if you’re both facing the sea. “But still,” you continue, “I take this seriously. You are my husband, Jungwon. I won’t pretend it means nothing just because there’s an end date. That’s not who I am.”

“I never told Sunghoon,” you murmur. “I never even hinted. It wasn’t his fault, and I didn’t want him to carry the weight of something that was never his to hold. I buried it the moment our parents showed us the marriage contract.” Jungwon is finally taking off his sunglasses. He sets them down beside him. His eyes meet yours, and they’re impossibly kind. “You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

“I know,” you answer. “But I did because you were standing beside me that day, because our parents were so proud and because… if I had screamed, begged, or run away, I wouldn’t have been me anymore.” Then Jungwon’s voice breaks it, “I think that’s what makes you strong, you know. Not how you hold everything together, but how you do it without making anyone else feel small.”

“I don’t want to make you feel like a placeholder, Jungwon,” you admit. “Even if we both know how this ends. These months, they’re not pretending to me.”

“I know,” he says, and there’s no mockery, no distance. “They’re not pretending to me either. Almost as if it needs to be said,”

you add, “I want us to leave this with respect. With good memories. So when we tell them it’s over… it won’t be because we hated it.”

Jungwon smiles faintly. “Then let’s make these three months count.”

You nodded at his response.

💍

The marriage, of course, was never about love. It was about two powerful families, two last names inked on contracts. Your parents, who are ambitious and strategic, saw opportunity. The wedding was just a ceremony, but the alliance? That was the real deal. Your parents told you it can be temporary if you want to, but they wanted you to try it and be with him for a while. A show of unity. A merging of two empires that could dissolve just as easily as it came together, once the timing was right.

If the divorce goes through on time, nothing collapses. No one loses face. Both families can say they tried. It will all be written off as a necessary step in building a stronger future, whatever that means.

But what no one accounted for was what might happen in between. What it means to live beside someone you barely know. To sleep next to someone. To hear their thoughts unfiltered. To witness their habits. Three months sounded easy. But living them? That’s something else entirely.

One Week Later

The honeymoon was alright. Jungwon, to his credit, made it easy. He was thoughtful, not pushy. He was laid-back, which balanced out your guarded nature. He didn’t try to force anything. No tension, no fake affection just for appearances, and in a strange way, that made you respect him more. But after a week, it has now come. A black car waited for you both outside the villa. The engine purring as you stepped out with your luggage, the staff politely bowing one last time. You went into the backseat beside Jungwon to look again at the familiar hotel.

The ride to the new house took hours.

The driver pulled up to the estate gates. It wasn’t just big. It was designed. It was too perfect to feel like home yet. Everything was pristine. You stood in the foyer, your luggage by your side, Jungwon beside you. “Well,” he murmured, looking at you, “we made it. Home sweet… investment.” You smiled and appreciated the dry humor. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Let’s mess it up a little.” He walked ahead, wheeling his luggage toward the upstairs hallway. “You get first pick. Main bedroom or the one with the balcony?”

“You’re not taking the master?” you said, confused.

He shrugged. “I don’t need the biggest room to prove anything. Go where you’ll feel more comfortable.” You ended up choosing the one with the pretty view, not the master. He took the other without comment.

💍

You were still technically married, but you had separate rooms and routines.

For days, mornings became alright. He cooked surprisingly well. You helped him clean. He asked you things, not out of obligation, but curiosity. Your favorite music. Whether you like rainy days, nights are more at peace. Sometimes, he came home from a work dinner or family obligation, and the two of you would sit on the floor in the living room, with leftovers in between.

It was… nice

You saw him brushing his teeth. His hair is a little messy. You saw him tired. You saw him annoyed. You saw him with his tie undone, complaining about a phone call. And you realized…This is what it means to live with someone, not just in the same space but in the same life.

Besides that, you never knew if Sunghoon loved you back. That was the part that stung the most. You had loved him for so long, and now, married, the timing was gone. You weren’t sure what you would be waiting for if the three-month agreement expired. Some invisible green light? A chance to pick up where you left off? But even that thought made you feel sick. Was it still respectful? Would it be too soon? Would it be cruel? You didn’t know what Sunghoon felt. Perhaps he had someone else by now. Maybe the version of him you were in love with was just a perfect memory built from the safety of what never was. You had no right to be angry, but you were hurting anyway.

So you made a promise to yourself: You wouldn’t confess. Not unless it still felt right. Not unless your heart didn’t feel like it was cheating on someone who had only ever been kind to you. Jungwon.

But while married, you didn’t let yourself spiral into daydreams anymore. Not about Paris with Sunghoon. Not about mornings, surprise confessions, or the slow realization that he had been in love with you all along. That story belonged to another version of you. One who didn’t get arranged into someone else’s life.

💍

You didn’t plan on getting this comfortable with Jungwon. It started with the afternoons when he knocked twice on your door before walking in as if he lived there. “Your room gets the better light,” he said one day, already settling on your carpet with his laptop and a bowl of cereal. You gave him a look of judgment. “There’s a whole house, Jungwon.”

“But your room smells of human life,” he grinned while gesturing to your candle. “Mine smells like wet paint and depression.” You should’ve kicked him out. You didn’t, sigh. Eventually, your schedules tangled. He worked where you worked. He started leaving socks under your coffee table. You started stealing his oversized hoodies on rainy mornings. One Wednesday, you both called in sick, though neither was ill. You both didn’t feel like facing the world. Instead, you lie in the living room, side by side with snacks between you, watching bad movies and trading horror stories about your high school years. “I had a bad perm in ninth grade,” Jungwon confessed and winced. You turned your head slowly, already grinning. “No way.”

“It’s true,” he groaned. “It was a nightmare.”

You nearly choked on your popcorn. “Please. I need photos for blackmail.”

“That’s classified information,” he said, snatching the bowl away but laughing too.

It wasn’t love, it was nice, whatever this was. This warm, lazy comfort. He started learning your habits. You hated how the faucet dripped at night, so he twisted it tight, and you couldn’t stand shoes on the carpet. You never talked about the divorce again. One night, the power cut out while you were halfway through a shower. You screamed. From outside, Jungwon yelled, “Are you dead?”

“No, but you better light candles before I leave here in the dark.” You found him in the kitchen later with a flashlight under his chin. “I’m the ghost of arranged marriages,” he said spookily. You nearly slipped again from laughing so hard. Later, the two of you sat on the counter eating leftover rice, candlelight between you. “Do you ever think about after?” you asked, picking at your food. “Like… what happens when we divorce?”

He looked at you for a long moment, then looked down. “Sometimes,” he said quietly. “But I try not to. It feels like ruining something that’s not broken yet.”

You agreed.

By week four, Jungwon insisted on making the other room into a “cringe cinema room.” You let him. “You’re annoying, you know,” you said one evening, watching him struggle to mount a projector on the ceiling. “And you’re bossy, but I put up with you anyway,” he said, dangling from a step ladder. He jumped down with a grin, brushing his hands on his pants. “I’m your husband, after all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Temporary.”

“It still counts,” he smirked, lightly bumping your shoulder. You bumped him back harder. This feels more like friends hanging out with each other than a marriage.

💍

It was around 11 p.m. You were drying the plates. Jungwon was wiping the table. “You didn’t show up to lunch.”

You kept your eyes on the dish in your hand. “I told you I might not make it.”

“You said you’d try.”

“I did try,” you said. “My meeting ran late.”

He muttered. “It felt like I was waiting for nothing.”

You finally looked at him. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to leave you hanging.”

His arms crossed. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one putting effort into this.”

You set the plate down. “What?”

“Isn’t it?” he asked. “I make time, I show up. You’re always somewhere else.”

“That’s not true.”

“It feels true.”

You stared at him. “You think I want that? You think I always choose between what matters and what also matters?”

He didn’t answer right away. “I wish I didn’t always come second.”

You scoffed. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have married someone like me.”

“Well, I didn’t have a choice, did I?” He didn’t meet your eyes. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” So this is what it feels like to argue as a married couple? You swear it was much worse whenever your parents fight. It was terrifying lol.

💍

You weren’t exactly mad at Jungwon. Not anymore, at least, and you were pretty sure he wasn’t angry at you either, but something about the air between you both felt compressed. It was the day after your first proper argument, and it left a weird taste in your mouth. Neither of you had yelled, but you’d both walked away a little bruised.

Now, at the grocery store, he pushed the cart ahead of you. He was focused and was scanning the list with his brows furrowed, checking items off as he placed them neatly into the cart. You, on the other hand, were walking behind while munching on a tiny food sample. You weren’t helping at all, and you knew it.

You even ducked into the seafood aisle to grab another round of free crackers and cheese. Yes, you were being passive-aggressive and maybe a little mean, but when Jungwon glanced behind and didn’t find you, he sighed slightly but loud enough for you to hear from two shelves away. You didn’t say anything when you rejoined him, though you did place a pack of overpriced chocolate cereal into the cart without asking. He glanced at it, then at you. You met his eyes, chewing. “What?” you asked with your mouth full. He shook. “Nothing.”

You strolled on. The whole trip went like that with minimal words, plenty of sighs, and a few eye rolls (from you). It was a sort of stubbornness between two people still figuring out what their closeness was supposed to look like. At checkout, you stood beside him silently as he paid.

The drive back was more of the same. You sat with your legs crossed and head leaned against the window, but then he pulled the car over to a spot by the curb. You looked over, confused. He put the car in park and turned to you. “Look at me.” You hesitated, but then you did. “I’m not good at this,” he admitted softly. “And I’m sorry,” he continued. “I didn’t want to make you feel unheard last night. I didn’t mean to be cold.”

Your heart is pinching a little. “You weren’t cold. I think I took it that way because I was scared of where the conversation might go.” His expression softened. “Yeah?” You nodded. “Yeah.” He leaned back in his seat. “Marriage is weird.” Which made you laugh a little. “Tell me about it.”

He reached into one of the grocery bags in the back seat and pulled something out. He handed you the chocolate cereal. Oh, you thought he put it back on the shelf because it was overpriced. You stared at it. “Really?”

“You’re annoying when you don’t help,” he said. “But you looked like you needed it.” You smiled, holding the box close to your chest. “Thanks,” you muttered. “Also… sorry for disappearing and going on the samples instead.”

He smiled. “You didn’t even get the good ones.”

“I panicked,” you replied. “It’s a very high-pressure situation.”

He shook his head while chuckling, then he looked at you again. “So… are we okay?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah”

“That’s good.”

With that, he pulled the car back onto the road.

💍

It was past midnight when you knocked on Jungwon’s door. You stood outside his room awkwardly, hugging your arms, your phone clutched tightly in one hand. Jungwon opened the door a second later, obviously having just woken up. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice husky.

You hesitated. “Um. Yeah. I accidentally watched a video.”

“A video,” he repeated, and a smirk appeared on his lips. “Was it a ghost video? Did you get scared?” You were embarrassed to answer, shifting on your feet.

“haha…’’

He raised a brow. You groaned softly, whispering, “Yes.” He chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”

“I didn’t mean to watch it! It popped up, and the thumbnail was like a little cartoon, so I clicked it and then boom! Screaming, a floating girl, creepy stairs! Now I think I’m cursed or something, and every time I close my eyes, I feel like she’s there…..”

He said. “It’s not that big of a deal. You’re overreacting.”

“She was floating, Jungwon.”

He sighed, stepping aside. “Come in, you big baby.” You hurried inside, brushing past him and making a beeline for his bed. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered, closing the door. “You can’t sleep unless you’re two inches from me, big baby?”

You were already crawling under his blanket. “Two inches is generous.”

He rolled his eyes as he walked over. “I don’t know why I keep letting you in here.”

You looked up at him from under the blanket, eyes wide. “Because you secretly care.” He snorted but didn’t deny it. Instead, he turned off the light and went under the covers, settling beside you. You flopped right next to him, practically burrowed into his side. “Seriously?” he said, voice muffled by the pillow. “This close?” You didn’t respond. “You’re pressing into my ribs.” Still nothing. He looked down. “Hey. Are you… scared?” You nodded once, not meeting his eyes.

He stared at you for a second, without another word, lifted his arm, and opened the blanket wider. You didn’t hesitate. You snuggled even closer, your head resting near his chest. “…You’re so warm,” you murmured.

“You’re trembling,” he muttered, a little worried now. He let his arm rest around you, hesitantly at first, then fully wrapping you up. “Geez. How bad was that video?”

“Bad,” you whispered. “I hate mirrors now.”

He couldn’t help it, so he laughed. “Hey,” you said, voice muffled against his shirt. “Stop laughing. You’re supposed to protect me.”

“Right, right,” he said, still smiling. “I forgot that’s in my marriage vows.”

“You didn’t say vows.”

“Okay, then I’m freelancing them.”

You pulled the blanket tighter, eyes fluttering shut. He said softly. “You can sleep here whenever, you know that, right?”

You replied. “Yeah. Thanks.” Then you added, “Don’t float above me when I sleep, okay?”

“Not unless I’m cursed too.”

You cracked a smile. “Deal.” And soon enough, the scary images faded, replaced by warmth and comfort.

💍

You didn’t mean to fall asleep like that. In fact, last night, you had planned to stay on your side of Jungwon’s bed quietly, but sometime between murmured jokes and your hundredth check of the bedroom mirror, you must’ve fully passed out, and now, well…

The sunlight was starting to peek in when Jungwon woke up slowly. He squinted at the light, yawned, then frowned, realizing his arm had gone numb. That was because your entire body was sprawled across him. One leg was tossed over his. Your arm was flung across his chest, your face smushed unflatteringly near his collarbone, and you snored. He stared down at you. “…Seriously?” You didn’t move.

He moved a little to relieve the weight on his arm, but you grunted and pressed your face into his shoulder. He looked at the ceiling in disbelief. “I let you stay one night,” he muttered, deadpan. “One night.” You snored louder. He sighed, but there was no real irritation behind it. In fact, after a few seconds, his lips turned into a tired little smile. Carefully, he reached up with his free hand and lightly poked your cheek. Nothing. He poked again. “Wake up, big baby.”

“Mmmgh,” you groaned into his shirt.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re snoring directly into my soul.”

“Stop…” you were still half-asleep. “You’re so loud…”

“I’m not the one drooling on someone else’s chest right now.”

At that, your eyes finally fluttered open, mortified. You slowly looked up, realizing just how close you were. He looked back at you, face neutral. You smiled sheepishly. “…Good morning?” A tiny, amused smile returned from him. “Morning. You want to get off of me, or are you planning to rent this space monthly?” You made a face, immediately rolling away with a groan, face burning. “I swear I didn’t mean to-”

He sat up, rubbing his arm. “I can’t feel my bicep anymore.”

“I get it! I’m sorry, okay?!” You buried yourself in the blanket, completely humiliated. He chuckled as he stood and stretched. “You’re lucky I like sleepovers,” he added over his shoulder as he walked to the bathroom. You peeked out from under the covers, watching him go. “I still hate mirrors, though,” you muttered. You heard him call back from the bathroom, “Then stop snoring at them.”

After a while,

You were still on Jungwon’s bed while you were on your phone. The embarrassment from waking up on top of him had faded, replaced by your usual comfort. It was one of those unbothered days where nothing was urgent. You giggled softly at your phone. Jungwon, sitting by the desk, checking emails, turned his gaze to you. “What’s got you smiling?”

You didn’t look up. “I’m texting my friend group.” He hummed, going back to tapping his keyboard. Then, you got another message. Your phone buzzed with a new image. You opened it, and your eyes lit up. “Aww!”

Jungwon peeked again. “Wifey?” he called you casually. “Who’s making you giggle now?” You turned your screen toward him without thinking. “Sunghoon sent me a picture of him and his dog. Look, isn’t his dog so- wait…”You stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing something.

Jungwon asked. “Sunghoon?”

You sat up. “I just realized, I never showed you what he looks like, right?” He raised an eyebrow, slowly walking over. You handed him your phone and watched his face. His face was neutral, though something was a little unreadable in his eyes as he studied the photo: Sunghoon smiling beside a fluffy, seemingly French poodle.

Jungwon nodded once. “So that’s Sunghoon.”

“Mhm,” you said, still not noticing the weird subtle behavior. “He always sends random dog pictures. Honestly, he’s so in love with his dog, it’s insane.” Jungwon handed your phone back with face unchanged. “Cute dog.”

You smiled. “Right?” He nodded and returned to his desk, sliding into his chair smoothly. You were still smiling at the picture, busy typing a reply, when he glanced over again.

💍

You didn’t expect much from the dinner. It was only a formal family gathering with you and Jungwon’s parents. The marriage had always been meant to be temporary, something your parents knew. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement that allowed both families to settle business matters and give you “a companion” in the meantime. Your parents had reassured you: “If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t have to last.” You were never pushed to fall in love.

After a long while in the marriage, their perspective seemed to change after closeness was shown. “You’re glowing these days,” his mom said to you with a knowing smile. I remember how hesitant you were initially, but look at you now.”

You tried not to stiffen. “Oh- really?”

“She’s right,” your mom joined in, nodding. “We were saying how natural you two seem. It’s so lovely to see.”

Natural? Your dad chuckled. “We always believed that with time, you’d both give this marriage a fair chance, and now look! It looks like it’s going to last forever.” Jungwon gave a polite smile. “We’re… figuring things out.” You nodded, matching his energy. “It’s still early, but we’re doing okay.”

“More than okay,” your mom said cheerily. “You’re so in sync! Honestly, I think you’ve found the one.”You took a sip of your drink, to avoid answering and partly to recover from the statement. You saw Jungwon do the same. Then came the kicker. “Well,” his dad said, pouring himself another drink, “If you’re not planning to end things anytime soon… maybe we’ll meet a grandchild sooner than we thought?”

You choked. Jungwon choked. Everyone else laughed. You leaned toward him, whispering behind your glass, “Tell me you heard that too.”

“I wish I didn’t,” he muttered.

His mom waved her hand. “Don’t look so startled! We’re just happy. The two of you seem so in love these days. It’s not like how it started.”

Your mom nodded in agreement. “It’s like fate, honestly.” You and Jungwon exchanged a glance. You weren’t sure if it was panic or confusion. You plastered on a smile. “That’s very sweet, mom.”Jungwon added, “We’re grateful for everything.” They seemed satisfied with that. The conversation continued, but you could feel Jungwon’s foot bump lightly against yours under the table, like a “what just happened?”. Later, in the kitchen, you were washing dishes beside him, still stunned. “Did they just rewrite our whole backstory?” you asked, handing him a plate.

“Apparently, we’re in love,” he said, drying it. “Didn’t you get the memo?”

“I missed it. It must’ve been in the fine print.”

He chuckled. “Well… we didn’t exactly deny it.”

You smirked. “Yeah. You sold it with your half-nod and existential panic.”

He bumped your shoulder with his. “Hey- you’re the one who turned pink.”

You groaned. “I can’t believe we almost got baby-trapped.”

“We survived,” he said.

“Barely.”

💍

It had been a long day because of an accidental detour into a sketchy back alley thanks to Jungwon’s “shortcut,” and a tragically wrong drive-thru order. You were both tired, delirious, and running on caffeine and sarcasm. You were crouched near the car while Jungwon struggled to fit the last bag into the trunk. “Do you think if I die here, the coroner will be like, ‘Cause of death: rice bag to the face’?” he said.

You looked up at him. “I think they’d say natural causes because you’ve always been naturally stupid.”

He turned slowly. “Oh?”

You grinned. He pointed at you. “This from the same person who waved at a mannequin today.”

“IT WAS WEARING A HAT AND HAD POSTURE.”

Jungwon crouched beside you now. “You were like, ‘Hi- oh.’ And then you bowed to it. You bowed.”You smacked his arm. “I was being polite!” That set you both off. You were clutching your stomach, while he wheezed beside you. “I can’t breathe-” you gasped. He wiped his eye. “I heard you say ‘excuse me’ to the clothing rack after bumping into it.”

“I have MANNERS!” You both dissolved into uncontrollable laughter again, collapsing against the car. People passed by, giving you strange looks, but you were too far gone to care.

“HIHAHAHA snortt BWAHA’’

‘’NYAHAHAHAHIHIHI’’

“It’s been a long day,” he said solemnly.

You nodded, then whispered between laughs, “I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Okay, but did you hear how ugly your laugh is?”

“BITCH, YOU SOUND LIKE A COUGHING BROOM.”

That was it again. Jungwon collapsed forward, wheezing, as you completely gave up and rolled back onto the pavement. A passing old couple stared at the two of you and walked away scared. Neither of you noticed. You were gripping each other’s arms with bodies shaking with laughter, faces red and aching. “I’m gonna throw up,” you managed.

“Same,” Jungwon said, wiping a tear. “This is how we die.”

ya’ll are weird as fuck.

💍

It had been a week. Nothing big had happened, but it hit you. You hadn’t thought about Sunghoon in a while. Not that you were trying not to. He used to cross your mind so naturally. It was a familiar habit of yours before the marriage began. Before, you would wonder what he’d think of your new shoes, or remember an old joke and smile alone, but this past week? You were laughing too hard with Jungwon, arguing over who left the fridge slightly open and other silly things. You were in this strange, growing space you two had built. And when your phone lit up with a message from Sunghoon that night, which he sent a funny joke, you smiled, but not the one before. Not the smile that stayed. Not the one that used to warm you all over.

You only tapped the screen and locked it again. Jungwon came out of the bathroom, hair damp and in his comfy clothes. “You good?” You nodded. “Yeah.” He sat next to you on the couch, reaching for the chips between you. “What’s with that face?” You tilted your head. “What face?”

“That one,” he pointed, smirking. “You seem like you just had a life crisis.” You snorted. “Maybe I did.”

“Want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“Okay.” He popped a chip in his mouth and stared at the screen. “Wanna watch something stupid?”

“Absolutely.”

💍

It was one of those usual afternoons when everything felt alright as always. You and Jungwon were walking side by side and sipping iced drinks. You two were bumping shoulders every few steps. You had just come out of the bookstore; instead, he dragged you out before you bought another copy of a book you already owned. “You’re insane,” he said, pointing at the bag in your hand. “You already have that book.”

“This one has a different cover,” you argued, “and you wouldn’t get it. It’s for the vibe.” Jungwon groaned mockingly. “You know what? Next time I see that book in your room, I’m stealing it.” You laughed. “Joke’s on you. I’ll buy another.” He rolled his eyes but smiled. It was easy with him: the teasing and the walking. You were halfway through telling him that your teacher mistakenly called you a different name when someone behind you suddenly shouted your name.

“(Name)? OH MY GO-,” came a familiar voice. You barely had time to react before arms wrapped around you and your feet lifted off the ground. “Sunghoon?” you gasped, still mid-air. He twirled you once, laughing, before setting you down. “I knew that was you! You haven’t changed one bit!”

You looked at him, surprised. “It’s not that long-”

“No, it’s too long,” he said, holding onto your shoulders. “Goodness, it’s so good to see you.” His eyes scanned your face. “You look good…suspiciously good. Your happily ever after been smooth so far?” You laughed awkwardly and respond. “I guess so.” He smirked. “I’m still mad I never got to see you in a white dress, by the way. I had tissues ready to cry in the front row and everything.”

You playfully pushed his arm. “Shut up.” Then he glanced to the side, finally noticing the figure standing a few steps back. “Oh,” Sunghoon said. “You’re- Jungwon, right?” Jungwon gave a slight nod, stepping forward. “Yeah. You’re Sunghoon, right?” They hadn’t met before, but they knew of each other well, because of you.

Sunghoon stuck his hand out with a bright smile. “It’s good to meet you finally, man. I’ve heard a lot.” Jungwon shook it. “Same here.” There was something calm and nice with how Jungwon said it, but if you were paying attention, it was kinda odd.

Sunghoon looked between the two of you again. “You two look good together,” he said happily. “Better than I imagined.” You smiled and couldn’t tell if your heart was beating from the compliment or the pressure. Jungwon nodded once, his face unreadable. “Thanks, man.”

“Anyway,” Sunghoon said, stepping back, “it’s crazy bumping into you like this. Are you two heading somewhere?”

“We were just walking,” you said.

“Right, well- guess I’ll let you go,” Sunghoon said, slowly. “It was nice seeing you again, seriously.” He didn’t hug you again this time, but only gave you that soft, warm smile he always had. “Take care, alright? Both of you.”

“You too,” you said.

Then you and Jungwon turned and walked away. You didn’t speak for the first few seconds. Something felt weird with Jungwon. Then Jungwon reached over, grabbed your drink, and took a sip. “Hey!” you said, laughing.

“I needed sugar,” he muttered. “Besides, yours tastes better.” You scoffed at him. “That’s your excuse for everything.”

Though, back at the car, it felt kinda awkward. You glanced at Jungwon. You could see his jaw was tight. He hadn’t said much since you both returned from running into Sunghoon. You turned the music down even more. “What’s up with you?” you asked. Jungwon muttered, “Nothing.” You raised a brow. “Really? You’ve been acting weird since we left.”

“I’m just tired.”

You scoffed. “Tired?” Your entire body turned to him. “Seriously? What is your deal?”

“I don’t have a deal,” he said quickly.

“Okay, then why are you being so quiet?”

“I’m always quiet.”

you shot back. “This isn’t quiet, this is- I don’t know, sulking.” That got a reaction. Jungwon let out a humorless laugh. “So now I’m sulking?”

“I’m saying- if something’s wrong, you can say it. I’m not gonna bite.”

He turned down a side street. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know! Did seeing someone from my past make you uncomfortable? Or did you not like how close we used to be? Or that you hated how he hugged me or talked about the marriage?-anything.”

“It’s not my place to hate anything,” Jungwon said.

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glanced at you. “It means I don’t have the right to say anything. We’re not- this isn’t like that.”

You stared at him. “Wow. Okay.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like-”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “No, it’s fine. We’re not anything. Got it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said again, but there was more frustration. “I meant that whatever I’m feeling shouldn’t even matter.”

“It does matter! You’ve been acting off since that run-in. Don’t act like you’re fine.”

Jungwon pulled over near the side of the road and parked the car. “Look,” he started, “it’s not about Sunghoon. When he showed up, it felt as if I was watching someone walk into a memory I wasn’t part of, and it hit me how little time I’ve had to get to know you, even though we’ve been stuck together for a while now.”

you said, “You think I know everything about you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“You don’t know a thing about me either,” you snapped. “And you’re the one who barely talks about yourself.”

“Well, I’m trying not to cross a line!”

“What line is that, Jungwon?” your voice rising. “I feel like we’ve already crossed a few, haven’t we?”

“This whole thing is confusing,” he said finally. “I didn’t ask for any of it, and neither did you, and I’m trying, but today, it messed with my head.”

“Well, don’t take that out on me.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are,” you said. “I’m tired of tiptoeing around you. Every time something important comes up, you shut down.”

“Every time I try to say something honest, you twist it!”

You stared at him. “You know what? Just drive.”

He clenched his jaw. “Fine.”

The rest of the ride was quiet again.

When you got home, you didn’t even take off your shoes. Jungwon was already behind you, just as silent as he’d been in the car. You tossed your bag onto the couch, then turned on your heel. “Are you gonna tell me what that was back there?” you snapped. “Or are we just gonna sit silently until it eats us alive?”

Jungwon replied. “What what was?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said sarcastically. “You're going quiet the second Sunghoon showed up. You’re acting like I committed a crime by talking to an old friend.”

His eyes narrowed. “You think I was mad about him?”

“Weren’t you?”

“No,” he snapped. “I was mad because you acted as if I wasn’t even there.” to which, you scoffed. Jungwon said. “You laughed, you twirled, you hugged.”

“You’re not my real husband, Jungwon!” you blurted. “We both know this is fake!”

And everything stopped. You regretted them the second they left your mouth, but it was too late. Jungwon’s face became more unreadable. “Right,” he said slowly. “I forgot. Three months, right?”

You stuttered. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said bitterly. “You’re just saying what we both agreed on.”

You hated the way your chest ached. “It didn’t have to be like this.”

He looked away. “Perhaps it shouldn’t have been anything at all,” he added, “Sometimes I wonder why I even said yes.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“I mean it,” he said. “I should’ve just said no. I should’ve told my mom I wasn’t interested in playing house with a stranger.”

“Wow,” you whispered, holding back the tears. “You know what’s funny? I thought we were starting to get along.”

He shook his head. “That’s the problem. We let it be genuine for a second, and now we’re here.”

You were stunned, hurt, furious, all at once. “Well, maybe you should start packing,” you said coldly. “There’s no point waiting three months if you regret it.” You walked away after. This time, you shut your bedroom door gently, because slamming it would’ve made it too final, where you meant every word you said. Deep down, you didn’t, but none of that mattered tonight.

💍

He was gone. There was no goodbye. His closet emptied. You were in the doorway for longer than you should’ve, waiting for something to tell you this wasn’t real. Perhaps a leftover jacket, a single shoe, or his scent, but nothing. You walked into the living room, feeling as if it were a foreign ground. The couch sat untouched. The blanket you always fought over is still folded neatly where you left it. You sat down, staring at the wall, wishing it might give you an answer. You didn’t realize you were crying until the first tear fell onto your shirt.

He wasn’t supposed to mean anything. That was the deal. Three months. After that, a handshake, a thank you, and you both go back to the lives you were meant to live. This marriage was never real, but somehow, he’d slipped into the cracks of your routine. You loved it when he left his mug near the sink instead of inside it. You loved it when he dried your umbrella, even when you forgot to. You loved it when he waited for you to unlock the door first, even when he had the spare key.

You’d picked up things about him without meaning to, and now you kept walking into rooms, expecting to find him there. You told yourself over and over that this wasn’t love. It was only comfort, but you felt the truth crawling to you in the emptiness.

He was never just a guest in your life. He became part of it. You missed hearing his footsteps. You missed his voice through the bathroom door. You missed the stupid way he argued about where the cereal belonged. You didn’t love him from the start. You weren’t even sure when it began, but he started making your world feel softer one day. He made silence feel safe. He made loneliness feel full. He made you feel seen, even on the days you didn’t want to be.

But he was gone. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, not with him leaving before you figured out how much he meant. Not before you could say, “Don’t go,” because you would’ve said it if only he had stayed long enough to hear.

💍

You weren’t expecting her, but she came. It was always what mothers did when everything was already broken beyond repair. You heard the knock on the door, and it felt like she was a stranger asking to be let into your ruin. You should’ve kept it locked, but you opened it anyway. She stepped in without waiting for an invitation. Her eyes scanned the place, and she knew. Jungwon wasn’t there. “I’ve been calling,” she said gently.

You didn’t look at her. “I know.”

“I thought I’d come by to check on you.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Check if the house you married me into is still standing?”

She winced. “Honey, please.”

“No,” you said, turning to her now, voice rising, “You never meant anything, right? You didn’t mean to marry me off as if I were a pawn. You didn’t mean for it to feel like I was auctioned off to someone you thought could keep me in line. You didn’t mean for me to end up in a house where he’s gone and I’m here swallowing the silence.” She flinched, but you were already spiraling. “You made me believe this would be fine, that I’d grow into it. That I’d learn to like him. That love could come after.” Then you said it with full force,

“But I did love him.”

You kept speaking, “I loved how he brushed his teeth with the door open, how he’d mumble when he was tired. I even loved how he took up too much space in his bed. We agreed to have separate rooms, but despite that, I would end up sleeping beside him. I loved it when it made the house feel less lonely.”

Your voice cracked. “I waited for him to come home every night, even when we were fighting. I kept counting the days to the end of the three months as if it were a joke.” You looked up now, at your mother. “But I wasn’t laughing.” You swallowed hard. “I hate you for putting me in this, but more than that… I hate myself because I walked into this marriage ready to leave, but somewhere along the way, I fell. Slowly and pathetically. I fell.”

Her face had crumpled, but you didn’t stop. “Now he’s gone, just like we had agreed on, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to tell him that I didn’t want it to end.” Tears blurred your eyes. “I didn’t want to be free. Please, not from him.” You collapsed into the heartbreak and loving someone too late. Your mother, who started it all, couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch her daughter mourn a man who was never supposed to matter but did.

Then, her shoulders started to shake. You’d never seen your mother cry before, but now, she was trembling in your living room, hands covering her face, lips quivering around the words she couldn’t seem to find fast enough. “I’m so sorry…” she whispered. “I’m so- so sorry.” She moved closer, unsure, until she gently wrapped her arms around you. She was holding her daughter for the first time in years.

You let yourself lean into her, into the familiarity of her perfume. Letting into the embrace you didn’t realize you still needed. “I didn’t know,” she whispered into your hair. “I thought I was doing what was best. I thought- I didn’t know it would hurt you. I thought you’d walk away untouched.”

You pulled back slightly to look at her tear-stained face. Your voice was hollow. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” She brushed your hair back gently. “Then don’t decide today,” she murmured. “You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t have to be okay right now.”

You said. “I miss him and I don’t even know if he wants to return.”

Your mother held your face with both hands. “Then you wait.”

You bit your lip while the tears threatened to spill again. “I don’t want it to be over.”

She nodded. “Don’t let it be.” You let yourself cry into someone’s arms for the first time in days, not because it fixed anything, but because it meant you weren’t alone in it anymore. If only there were still time to rewrite the ending.

💍

You hadn’t meant to go out with hair messy and sweater sleeves stretched from pulling at them. The cafe bell jingled above your head, and you barely looked up as you stepped inside, hoping for something warm. When suddenly- “Hey!” You turned your head slowly. Sunghoon stood a few steps away and was holding his drink. His smile faded the moment his eyes saw you. “Whoa- hey…” he stepped forward instantly. “What’s wrong?” Before you could respond, before you could even lie, he pulled you into a hug. He felt you tremble, but he said nothing. He only held you tighter and murmured, “Let’s go somewhere quiet, yeah?”

You ended up at a place no one looked twice at. It was a lonely time between day and night.

“I don’t know where to start,” you said.

“Anywhere,” Sunghoon replied. “I’ll listen.”

“It was an arranged marriage.”

He widened his eyes. “Wait… what?”

“Me and Jungwon,” you said. “It was never ours. Well, not in the beginning. Our families put it together for status and legacy.” You swallowed. “We agreed to divorce. I was the one who wanted to divorce immediately after we got married. He agreed. Three months of marriage and then divorce.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“I didn’t know how to,” you continued. “Before the marriage even happened… I was going to confess something else.”

His brows furrowed. “Confess?”

“I was in love with you.” The words came out before you could stop them. You felt Sunghoon freeze beside you. “What?” he said softly.

“I was in love with you,” you repeated. “It was back then before everything got so… twisted.” You laughed, but it wasn’t happy. “I wanted to tell you. I planned to, but before I could… the marriage happened.” You hugged yourself tighter, your tears threatening to return. “I didn’t know how to act around you after that. I didn’t want to disrespect him or you. So, I backed away. I started texting you less and more casually than before. I thought it was the right thing.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly. “I noticed.”

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled. “Something else happened, too,” you whispered. “Somewhere in all of this, I fell for him.” You closed your eyes. “He has this way of making everything feel like it matters…Like I matter. I don’t even know when it happened. I woke up one day and realized I was different. I’d been slowly filled up with someone else’s presence, and suddenly, it hurt to imagine being without him.”Tears stung again, but you didn’t fight them this time. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. We agreed to divorce after three months. That was the deal. That’s all it ever was supposed to be, but now… I don’t know what to do.”

You looked up at Sunghoon then, finally. “I’m sorry. For dragging you into this, being silent, and not telling you sooner.”

Sunghoon slowly reached out and pulled you into his arms. It wasn’t romantic, but it was full of warmth from him. “I’m sorry too for not knowing,” he murmured. You pressed your face into his shoulder. He pulled back to look at you. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still here,” he said.

You gave a broken laugh. “It doesn’t feel like I’m here.”

“You are.” His eyes were kind. “Even if this isn’t how you imagined things… you’re stronger than you think.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He gave a smile. “Always here for you, as your friend.”

💍

You told yourself you were ready. You had rehearsed what you would say if he ever walked through that door again a hundred times, how you’d stay composed. How you’d look him in the eye and not flinch, but when he came back, you didn't know what to do when Jungwon appeared past the front door threshold. You had just placed the divorce papers on the console table. Your hand was still resting on top of them. “I didn’t think I’d still be able to open the door,” he said.

Seeing him again, your heart stuttered. For a second, everything you had planned to say disappeared. You were left staring at him, scared that this was it and this would be the last time. What if everything you told them now wouldn’t fix it? What if no matter how much you poured out, he had already closed the door, without slamming it, and you never noticed?

Finally, you took the courage to say what you needed to say. “I’m sorry,” you blurted. “I know that’s too late, but I’m still saying it. I’m sorry for what I said that night and what I didn’t say after. I’m sorry I acted like you didn’t matter to me when all I ever did was care. You’ve been my person for so long that I didn’t know how to be mad at you without breaking my heart.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel alone,” you continued. “I’m sorry for shutting you out when I should’ve let you in, and I’m sorry I ever made you doubt how much I love you.” But you are confused… He was smiling. Your brow furrowed. “Why are you smiling? Are you taking this seriously? Are you… happy that we’re done?” Because you weren’t. You were still in the middle of loving him. Was this too late?

“I’m not smiling because I’m happy,” he replied. “I’m smiling because you’re still here and I still have a chance to see you speak to me instead of walking away.”

You couldn’t speak. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “I saw them,” he finally said, eyes toward the papers. “You left them in the mail pile with your signature already there.” You didn’t respond. “I know what that means,” he said. “You were ready to let me go.”

“I read it three times,” he murmured. “I was supposed to sign and send it back.” You turned away. You weren’t ready to hear his voice again, not when you had just begun to believe that maybe you could live without it, until- I couldn’t,” he said, a little more broken this time. “I couldn’t pick up a pen and say goodbye to you. I couldn’t erase you from my life.”

“I thought staying away would help and hurt less for both of us, but it didn’t,” he said. “It made everything worse. It made me realize that I wasn’t waking up missing you. I was waking up and forgetting how to function without you. My mind still expected your voice from the next room. My hands still reached for yours in the dark.”

“I didn’t come here to convince you of anything,” he said softly. “I came here because there’s not a day that’s passed where I haven’t thought about you, about the sound of your voice when you’re talking about something you love, your laugh when you’re half-asleep, how you look at me when you’re proud, or angry, or hurt. I remember all of it.”

The tears welled up again. You turned your head, embarrassed, but he was already there. He crossed the last steps between you and gently touched your face. His thumb wiped at the tear before it fell entirely. “No, don’t,” he whispered. “Please don’t cry.” You couldn’t help it because he still remembered how to be gentle with you even after everything. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, but you shouldn’t have to be strong with me. Not anymore,” he whispered.

He cradled your face in both hands now. “I want everything,” he said. “I want your silence, shouting, worst days, and best. I want your sleepy mornings and your furious nights. I want the parts of you that love without asking, and the parts that get scared and push away. I want to return to every room we left cold and make it warm again.”

Then his eyes looked downward. He reached for something sitting on the table. The ring…your ring. The one you had taken off and left behind without a second thought, thinking it meant something final. He picked it up delicately. “I don’t just love you,” he said. “I need you every day.” And without asking, without waiting, he slid the ring back onto your finger. Then-

He kissed you for the first time since the wedding. This time, it was genuine. This kiss that didn’t chase your lips but waited. It stayed. His hands cupped your jaw. His lips were sure. Everything he had wanted to say, swallowed down, and couldn’t survive without.

You kissed him back. Your hands found his shoulders, his neck, then tangled in his hair. You held him because he was yours, and you’re his, as you always had been. He leaned in again, again, again, not letting go. Letting the silence speak for him and the closeness say everything words couldn’t. His kisses moved down to your cheek and jaw and back to your lips. When you finally broke apart, both of you out of breath and still holding each other, and then he said it,

“You are everything I didn’t know I needed and everything I never stopped wanting.” You let yourself cry into his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around you. He never wanted to let go again, and he wouldn’t.

💍

A New Chapter Began. After that night, after the tears, the confessions, and the kiss. You and Jungwon began again. The marriage had become something else entirely. Something you both chose now, willingly and earnestly. You didn’t tear everything down to start over. You kept going, together, but this time with your hearts in it.

Out of guilt, your parents began doing everything they could to make amends after everything that had happened: lavish dinners and many more apologies. Strangely, you were thankful. Not for the way it had all happened but for the fact that fate, circumstance, or even your parents’ meddling, had brought him into your life because now, you couldn’t imagine it without him.

You and Jungwon eventually moved into the same room. One day, you both stopped closing your doors to each other. His things naturally began appearing beside yours. Everything had changed, and yet… everything was the same. He became your comfort and home.

💍

It was 9 p.m. and Jungwon had just finished a meeting. You finished binge-watching an entire show in one sitting. The living room was a mess of snacks and one sock (his, obviously). When he walked in, you were wrapped in a giant fuzzy blanket, dragging it behind you like a royal cape. He said, surprised. “Your Majesty.”

You looked at him. “You dare speak without kneeling?”

He dropped to one knee without hesitation, bowing deeply with a juice bottle in hand. “Forgive me, my queen. I have brought peace offerings from the sacred land of the refrigerator.”

You snatched the bottle. “You may rise.”

He stood. “Do I get a reward?”

You turned on your heel. “You get my presence.”

He followed you around the apartment as you continued parading. “What kingdom even is this?” he asked, amused.

You stopped by the dining table and pointed at the dishes he hadn’t washed earlier. “A kingdom of betrayal.”

He gasped. “That was not in my royal contract.”

“You swore vows!”

“I thought we skipped that part!”

Then both of you burst out laughing. He walked up to you, grabbed your blanket, and wrapped both of you in it. “Fine. I’ll wash them.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What changed your mind?”

He kissed your forehead. “The queen is scary.”

“And never forget it.”

You high-fived him, both still tangled in the same blanket, heads pressed together, swaying slightly because you two are weirdos who somehow made it through an arranged marriage.

💍

When someone called your name, you and Jungwon walked back to the car, arms full of pastries. You turned- “Sunghoon,” you said, surprised but not startled.

He seems a little more at ease. “Hey. I didn’t expect to run into you two.”

Jungwon nodded, then grinned a little. “What’s up, man?” Sunghoon stepped forward, and they did a quick fist bump without hesitation or awkwardness.

You smiled. “You look like you’re doing good.”

“I am,” he said easily. “My girlfriend’s waiting at the cafe somewhere near, so I’m trying not to get in trouble.”

Jungwon chuckled. “Smart move.”

“She doesn’t like it when I ‘accidentally’ start small talk for thirty minutes,” Sunghoon said, air-quoting with a grin. “Though, it’s nice seeing you both.”

“You too,” you said, smiling.

Sunghoon looked between you and Jungwon. “You guys look solid.”

You glanced at Jungwon. “Yeah,” you said. “We’re good.”

You could see it. Jungwon was ok with all this. He’d moved on from whatever uneasiness he once had about Sunghoon because he trusted you and himself now. Sunghoon nodded, satisfied. “Cool. Well, I’ll head back before she leaves me here.”

“Tell her we said hi,” Jungwon joked.

Sunghoon laughed as he turned. “She’d love that.” Then walked off.

Jungwon opened the car door for you like always. “You’re okay?” he asked.

You looked down the street once more, then back at him. “I’m happy.” Back in the car, Jungwon tossed the pastry bag into the backseat. He buckled in, glanced your way, and smirked. “You know I kinda had a crush on you when we were kids, right?”

You turned to him, brows raised. “What?”

“Don’t act surprised,” he said, starting the engine. “You were the popular one. You always showed up at those family events with that shiny hair and your nose in the air.”

You laughed. “Okay, first of all, what family events? I barely even remember you back then.”

He gave you a playful, offended look. “Tragic. I remember you. You were the girl everyone talked about. I was the only kid in the corner, avoiding the adults’ small talk.”

That part was genuine. You vaguely remembered him from those days. Scattered memories at weddings or someone’s birthday, when kids were shoved into the same room and expected to get along. He was polite and always slipping away before the adults could rope him into conversations. Kinda a blur in the background. It was strange, now that you thought about it. “I had no clue,” you said, glancing at him.

He smirked. “Exactly. Nine years old and hopeless.”

You snorted. “I was ten.”

“Which made you older and cooler.”

You rolled your eyes. “Stop being so silly.”

“Look at where that got me,” he said. “Married and bag secured.”

You tried to play it off, but were smiling the whole way home.

Funny how things turn out

💍

Years Later…

You were rushing again. A bag slung over your shoulder and a sandal clutched in one hand as you tried to get out the door. “Yah,” came Jungwon’s voice from behind you. “Slow down.”

You turned, still walking backward toward the front. “We’re gonna be late!”

He was already walking over with a frown. “Be late then. I’d rather that than see you slip and fall.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s only a quick check-up.”

“You’re pregnant,” he reminded gently, reaching for your free hand. “You can’t dash out the door as if you’re not carrying half our future.”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile was already spreading. “I know, Jungwon.”

“Then act like it,” he said, his voice too tender for a simple warning. He bent slightly to press a kiss to your lips. “I want both of you safe.”

“Is it possible you’re even more extra now than when we first got married?” you asked, grinning up at him.

“It’s possible,” he replied, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles. “My love for you grows daily, so I’ve earned it.”

Before you could answer, a small voice was heard.

“Mummy!”

You turned your head just in time to see your little boy sprinting toward you, barefoot in pajamas, hair sticking up. His voice was full of urgency. “Can I have waffles instead of cereal? Please? Daddy burned them last time.”

You bit back a laugh as Jungwon scoffed in defense behind you.

“You burned waffles?” you asked, teasing.

“It was slightly golden.”

“It was black!”

The little boy tugged on your hand. “Mummy, please make them. You don’t burn things.”

You crouched down slowly and pressed a kiss to your son’s forehead. “Waffles it is.”

Jungwon bent beside you, wrapping his arms around you, his palm resting protectively over your stomach again.

💍

You sat back on the crinkly paper of the exam bed, your fingers holding Jungwon’s. The gel on your belly was cold. The doctor was staring at the screen, angling the probe. Jungwon leaned in. “Why is she not saying anything?” he whispered.

You gave him a flat look. “She’s literally right there.”

The doctor suddenly let out an amused breath through her nose. “Well,” she said, looking between you both. “You two are in for a surprise.”

Jungwon straightened. “Surprise?”

You tilt your head. “Surprise what?”

The doctor tilted the monitor toward you and gently pointed. “There’s not just one baby in there. There are two.”

Your mouth gaped.

Jungwon froze.

“…Two?” you repeated.

The doctor nodded, almost laughing. “Twins.”

For a moment, it was silent. You looked at Jungwon. He looked at you. His mouth opened a little. Then closed. Then opened again. “…Like two actual babies?” he said slowly.

You covered your mouth, half-laughing, half-shocked. “No, Jungwon, she meant like metaphorical twins.”

“I’m serious!” he said, grabbing the side of the bed. “That’s double the diapers. Double the- do we even have double the space?”

“Our home is large enough,” you deadpanned.

“Oh my-,” he stared at the monitor again. “They’re going to gang up on us.”

“They’re not even born yet!”

“They’re already plotting,” he whispered, eyes wide.

You let out a helpless laugh. “You’re overreacting.”

He turned to you, softening all over again. “I… I already love them so much. Both of them. All three of you.”

You rolled your eyes, tears welling up as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, nose, and lips. And just like that, once arranged, once full of confusion, your story had turned into something brighter and far messier than you ever expected, but that was the beauty of it. This wasn’t just the end.

It was a beginning again.

354 notes · View notes

littlegrapejuice · 22 hours ago

Text

Grid Mum 9 | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: You had one goal during the break between Silverstone and Spa - relax and recharge - but it seemed like the universe always had a knack to never let you catch your breath.

Author's Note: this one was so fun to write hehe and yes it's absolutely bc i could include h*rner getting fired🤭 this didn't feature the rookies at first but then i was like "fuck this is my grid mum fic, i need to try and include them somehow" so i went and added a bit of chaos at the end of this chap!

F1 MASTERLIST🏎 | Previous Part | Next Part

Three days.

That’s all it took following the British Grand Prix for drama to happen.

You were just waking up, taking advantage of being home to sleep in a bit – sleeping until noon wasn’t just a bit, but you deserved it so who cared. You turned to the side, noticing that the space next to you was empty. This meant that Max was already up, and your first guess was that he was in the simulator. You hoped that you could convince him to take a break now that you were awake as well, so you left the comfort of your bed to make your way towards the living room.

Bingo, you thought when you saw the back of Max’s head while he was racing in Spa. You wished that you could admire his dedication to prepare for the next race, but right now you just wanted your boyfriend to spend a bit of time with you.

Because Max wasn’t currently streaming, his camera was off and he didn’t notice you when you went to stand behind him. He was solely focused on his race, and you could only imagine the serious expression on his face as he was taking the last corners of the circuit. He seemed satisfied with his performance as he nodded to himself before stretching his arms a bit. Finally sensing your presence, Max leaned back against his seat, as he looked up at you.

“Hi”, you said with a smile.

Max’s expression softened at the sight of you, and he couldn’t help the matching smile that appeared on his face.

“Hey, have you been standing here long?”

“Just enough to know that you’re winning the next grand prix.”

“That’s a bold prediction”, Max teased as he was back to looking at the screen to turn everything off.

“Excuse me for believing that my boyfriend who won the race three times in a row can win again.”

“Well, I didn't win last year so my streak ended. But thank you for the vote of confidence.”

Max was finally out of the simulator, which you really appreciated as you were now able to get your morning kisses. Max’s hands went to hold your waist before he leaned down to kiss you, and you could feel his smile on your lips as you brought your arms up to put them around his shoulders.

“I have faith you can make your tractor work even if the team puts you on the worst tyres again,” you said before leaning in for another kiss.

You thought that you would be getting several more, but Max froze after hearing your words. You were talking as if the next race would go as usual, like nothing had changed, and he realised that you didn’t know yet.

You were about to complain when Max pulled back a bit, but you noticed his confused look.

“What?” You asked.

“Have you looked at your phone?”

“Well, no? Sorry for going straight to see you after I wake up”, you said with a chuckle. “God forbid I wanna look at my boyfriend before a screen.”

Max debated just telling you right now, or going to grab his phone to show you directly, but he thought that you would enjoy the full experience and that you deserved to have it.

“Just go get your phone.”

“Okay…?”

You thought that he was being a bit cryptic right now, but you trusted that it was for a good reason. So you went back to the bedroom, and grabbed your phone that was on the nightstand before turning it on. By the time you were back to the living room, Max had disappeared into the kitchen. He came back quickly enough with your water bottle – the one bearing the effigy of Red Bull Racing that you always left in the fridge to constantly have cold water – which he was ready to give to you.

“Wait, no. What if you’re distracting me with the phone thing, and then I drink this without noticing that you’ve poisoned it?” Your crazy theory made Max laugh, while you suspiciously looked at him. “I’m not going to multitask until I know what you’re planning.”

“You act like this is some elaborate trap to trick you; as if you weren’t the one who filled it yesterday.” Although amused at your reaction for now, Max decided to put your bottle down on the table while he sat on the couch. He just had to wait for you to finally see the news.

“What am I supposed to be looking at? Or, looking for?” You wondered. Your phone was now showing your home screen – a picture of Max on the podium, from his first win after you started dating – and you waited for further instructions from Max.

“Just open Instagram. If you’re lucky, your feed will show you everything in the right order.”

Again, very cryptic. Still, you obliged and opened the application.

Nothing had prepared you for the first post that appeared before your eyes: Christian Horner leaves Red Bull with immediate effect.

You couldn’t even speak, as your only reaction was to look at Max for confirmation. Even if it was the F1 official account that had posted it, you couldn’t believe it to be real.

“Keep scrolling”, Max told you. “It’s not the only thing.”

The post below was enough to make your eyes go even wider if it was possible: Laurent Mekies to take over Red Bull CEO duties. Thinking that good things always came in threes, you scrolled again to see if there was a third part to this. And there was one indeed: Alan Permane promoted to Team Principal.

“You should’ve led with that! Just tell me directly next time!”

“You mean next time my team principal gets sacked?”

“Well, no! Now I don’t want this to ever happen again”, you clarified. “I like Laurent, way more than Horner.”

“You like everyone way more than Horner.”

“Can you blame me?”

Max shook his head with a laugh, already getting ready for your next words.

“Is Helmut Marko next?” You innocently asked.

There it is, Max thought. He should’ve bet on this question, certain that you would mention the other man whom you hated severely disliked.

“Guess you’ll have to wait to find out,” Max replied.

“So it’s a yes? Do you know something I don’t?”

“I always know things you don’t.”

“Well, I don’t like that.” You pretended to be offended. “Sharing is caring, especially when the info would make me happy.”

“I shared this one, didn’t I?”

“Barely”, you argued. “But now that I know, the celebrations can happen.”

“Should I be scared?”

“What? No!” Although your mouth denied it, the mischief in your eyes said otherwise. “Just thinking of opening the champagne, I don’t know.”

“It’s not even one in the afternoon.”

“We’re already late, then. Should’ve started drinking to that the second the news dropped.”

“You’re impossible”, Max said with a sigh.

“And still not drinking”, you added while making your way to the kitchen in the least subtle way.

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Max followed behind you. The bottle he had brought you was now abandoned in the living-room, and would definitely not be drunk by you anytime soon. Thankfully, you did not actually open a bottle of champagne as you decided to settle on some Champomy instead – Max didn’t even know that you had this in the kitchen, but he didn’t complain if it meant that you weren’t getting drunk before lunch.

After pouring two drinks, you gave one of the glasses to Max and raised yours.

“To the best breaking news in F1 this year!”

“Cheers to that”, Max said before tipping his glass in your direction and drinking its content.

As you quickly refilled your glass once it was empty, you thought about something.

“You know what’s everyone gonna say: did they fire him to make you stay, or because they already lost you?” You had seen the comments online, as people had been making theories for weeks before today's events had happened.

“They can speculate all they want, I'm not saying anything more than I’ve been saying during the past few races.”

“Well, I’m still going to wish you luck. They definitely won’t leave you alone during the next grand prix.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve been used to it for years. As long as I know, I don’t really care about people’s theories. Rumours are rumours for a reason,” he added with a shrug.

“Cheers to that, then.”

“I feel like you’ll cheer to anything now that you’ve started drinking.”

“Gotta finish the bottle now that it’s opened,” you told Max before winking at him. “I’m not letting it go bad.”

“Sure, that’s the only reason.” Even though Max rolled his eyes at your words, there was still a ghost of a smirk on his face. He could express his fake annoyance all he wanted, but he still hadn’t put his glass away nonetheless.

Even though Max’s first reaction when learning about the news had been far from celebrating it – Christian Horner was still the one who had helped him become a four-times world champion, he would still indulge you and not comment on it when you eventually told him that you were ordering a cake for the occasion.

He almost thought that you were going to throw a party, but you didn’t and just settled on texting Liam as well as Yuki to express your joy. Thankfully, it seemed to satisfy you and you were now ready to go on with your day as it was originally planned: packing for your well-deserved holiday with Max.

…..

You and Max had only been in Italy for a day and a half when you got the confirmation: Jannik Sinner and Carlos Alcaraz would once again play against each other in a Grand Slam final. You were currently on Max’s yacht, somewhere in Sardinia, as you had just witnessed Jannik Sinner win his semi-final against Novak Djokovic – a quick match in straight sets.

“Max!” You called as soon as the match had ended. You had stayed inside all afternoon to watch tennis – having first started with Carlos Alcaraz winning against Taylor Fritz – while Max had been resting outside and occasionally popping in either for a drink or just to check on you. “Max! Max!” Being too impatient, you left the comfort of the couch and went outside to find your boyfriend.

“What?” He eventually replied when he heard your footsteps approaching on the deck.

“He won!” You exclaimed, a bright smile on your face.

“Who?”

“Is the smile on my face not enough to guess?”

“Yeah, probably. I guess it’s Jannik, then?” Seeing you nod in excitement, Max couldn’t help but feel glad for you. Your joy was contagious, and he couldn’t not appreciate seeing you so happy. “He’s gonna play against the Spanish one, right?”

“Yeah, Carlos. Roland-Garros rematch”, you explained.

Max nodded to show you that he was listening as you then started rambling about the stakes of the match – something about a winning streak and haunted narrative – and how you wouldn’t survive if Jannik lost once again only a month after his previous match against Carlos. Now truly noticing how invested you were, Max had to interrupt you to ask the million-dollar question:

“Do you wanna go?”

“What?”

“The match,” he clarified. “Do you wanna go? I know you didn’t get to see their previous one, but I can try and get us tickets for this one – well, more like invitations.”

“It’s literally in two days.”

“So?” Max just wanted to hear you say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Because if you really wanted to go, he would have the jet ready to take you both to London in a heartbeat if it meant that it would make you happy – Max would do anything for your smile.

“We’ve only been here for a day, though. It feels like a waste to leave so early.”

“We’re not that far,” he stated. “Quick Sunday trip; we’ll be back here before you know it.”

“I don’t know…” You wanted to say yes, you really did. But this was supposed to be a peaceful holiday spent with Max. A way to take a break from everything that was happening outside, while you two would be in your own little bubble for a bit.

As you were internally debating with yourself, Max was simply watching you and waiting for your reply. He knew you. He knew you wanted to go, but would say no for his sake. And even if it would make you happier than ever to go see the match, he knew you also cared about being here with him.

“I’ll be fine,” you eventually said.

“Sure”? Max asked, giving you one more chance to change your mind – he would honestly accept you doing so on Sunday morning as he would definitely still be ready to take you to England until the very last minute.

“Yeah”, you confirmed with a nod. “We’ll watch it here, together. Just the two of us, away at sea. That way, no one will hear me screaming every time Jannik scores.”

“Okay, we’ll do that.”

“Now, move over. I need to catch up on my tan while there’s still sunlight.” A smile was back on your face as you nudged Max’s leg with your foot. Despite all the space there was on the deck, you still wanted to lie down right beside him and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Yes, ma’am.” Max rolled his eyes at your attitude, but he still shifted a bit to the side so that you could lay right beside him.

This is it, you thought as you felt Max put his arm behind you on the back of the sunbed. This was the peace and quiet you had both seeked out by coming here. The break you deserved. The rest that you had desperately needed.

Feeling more relaxed than ever, you closed your eyes. Basking in the sun’s warmth with the man you loved right next to you? Yeah, nothing could beat that right now.

…..

You thought that this – sleeping, eating, tanning, forcing Max to watch tennis, swimming, then doing it all over again – would be your plan for the next week and a half. But it seemed that Max had other ideas for the two of you.

On Sunday afternoon, Max told you to switch your bikini for an actual outfit. He didn’t explain why, and just said that there was a place near the coast that he had wanted to visit. Well, that was news to you. Max hadn’t expressed a wish to go to a specific location – especially one that wasn’t at sea – when you had planned your yacht trip, and you really wondered what it was about.

“You remember the final is soon, right? We can’t miss it, Max.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you. “We’ll be in front of a screen to watch it, I promise you.”

A screen, he had said. Max had never specified which screen, so you couldn’t be mad at him when it just so happened to be a massive one that had been set up in the middle of a random village's square.

“Max, why are we here?” You asked him as you noticed the hundreds of chairs laid out in front of the screen.

Looking around, you started to notice more details – a kid with the Italian flag painted on his cheeks, a group of friends loudly chatting about aces and match points, an old lady showing off her parasol bearing the effigy of Wimbledon that she definitely had bought ages ago.

But the realisation came a couple minutes later, when the screen lit up and people gasped in excitement when a grass court appeared on it. If you had a ring to do so, you would get down on one knee here and now to beg Max to marry you – that’s how much you felt in love with him at that moment. Immediately turning to Max, who was harbouring a proud grin, you had to make sure you weren’t mistaking the situation:

“Is this for real?”

“Depends on what this is.”

“Maaax,” you whined as you dragged out the syllable. “Are we really watching the final here?”

“Yeah, we are.” Taking your hand, Max led you between the chairs before he found ones that were still free. “Figured it could be nice to take advantage of the fact that we’re in Italy while the country’s champion is probably playing the match of his career.”

“Well, he is.”

Turning around to look for the origin of the unknown voice, your eyes met the ones of the woman who was sitting behind you. She looked around your age and, noticing the same thing about you, she gave you a warm smile.

“Sorry to interrupt”, she said before standing up and dragging her chair on the ground to now sit on your right. “I guess you guys aren’t from around here?”

“You’re right”, you replied. “Just here for a holiday.”

“Makes sense. It’s not a race weekend, so…” When she saw Max tense at her words behind you, she chuckled. “Relax, it’s such a tiny village here that either no one realises who you are or they just don’t care. Today is all about tennis anyway.”

And just like that, you now had a best friend for the next three hours. After introducing yourselves to each other – even Max had done so, you then spent the entire match talking. Max would throw in a comment or two from time to time as he was loosely following your conversation with your fellow tennis fan, but he mostly just listened. He could hear the smile on your face every time you would highlight a good point, and was more than happy whenever he did see it as he sometimes turned to look at you.

He couldn’t help the way his expression softened every time he glanced your way, as he noticed how your eyes lit up and how your grin never faltered. Max had never been a huge tennis guy himself, but for you? He would sit through a ten-hour long match if needed – yes, even if George Russell’s face would keep appearing on the screen every now and then.

And when the match eventually ended with the Italian coming out on top, that’s when Max knew bringing you here had been one of the best ideas of his life. Because the way you stood up, screaming so loud that you almost could lose your voice over it, was probably one of the happiest Max had ever seen you – maybe even happier than when he would win a race, but he didn’t mind.

The square erupted in cheers. Everyone hugged, no matter if they knew each other or not. There were no strangers today; just fans of the same sport, united by a shared joy. Even Max ended up in random group embraces from all around, which you laughed at when you noticed him patting a couple guys on the back.

People danced, drank, sang, and celebrated all evening the win of their national treasure. The atmosphere was easily rivaling one of a Ferrari podium at Monza - Italians knew how to party, there was no denying that.

And amongst the noise, you had eventually found solace in a quiet corner. Max was sitting next to you, a pizza on his lap from which you took a slice. You watched the celebrations getting calmer from afar, although there was still that feeling of euphoria floating around the square. You were still on cloud nine after Jannik’s victory, and you didn’t think that you would be able to forget that match – nor that day as a whole – anytime soon.

Later that night when you were back on the yacht with Max, you could only express your gratitude. Laying next to him on the bed, you turned on your side to face him.

“Thank you”, you quietly said as your voice was barely above a murmur. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed today.”

“I think I do”, Max argued as the memory of your grin flashed in his mind. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“It was definitely more than just a good time. That was like– the best day of my life.”

“Better than Horner leaving Red Bull?” Max asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, for sure. That’s top five at least, but today was definitely top three.”

“What’s first on the list?” He wondered.

“Well, today was my favourite tennis player winning. But I think my favourite day is any day on which my favourite driver wins a race.”

“Sounds like a nice thing to experience. Any chance I know this guy who’s at the top?”

“Maybe”, you teased. “He’s the guy whom I’ll get to kiss within the next thirty seconds to thank him for that wonderful day.”

“Seems like a very lucky man.”

“He is. And he has a girlfriend who also feels very lucky to have him”, was the last thing you said before closing the gap between you and Max.

The kiss wasn’t a heated one, nor was it one that would be leading to anything more tonight. But it was one in which you were pouring all the love you felt for Max, one to express how much you were grateful and thankful for him. Despite not going all the way to England to witness the match with your own eyes, Max had wanted to find an alternative that was as good – if not better if someone were to ask you – and that would still enable you to experience the joy of sharing this spectacular moment with others. And the fact that you had also been able to spend that moment with him? Well, that was definitely the cherry on top.

You had known for a while that Max was the love of your life. But today more than ever, you had felt so seen and so cherished that you knew. You knew you never wanted to ever let him go, and you could only hope that it was the same for him.

…..

By the time you got back to Monaco, you felt so disconnected to everything that you were almost forgetting about coming back to the real world. You knew you only had a couple days to enjoy at home before it would be time to fly to the Belgian Grand Prix. So as you were nearing your building, your only wish when entering the flat was to keep relaxing.

However, it seemed that it would probably be impossible. Because when you and Max made it inside, you realised that you weren’t alone. And you got confirmation of it when you reached the living room. While Gabriel was setting the table, Ollie was standing behind the couch as he hopped channels. Without a care in the world, Jack walked past you with a pot. As if everything was completely normal, the Aussie just smiled at you.

“Welcome back!” He said with excitement before putting the pot down on the table.

“You guys are early”, Liam complained as he had just arrived from the hallway with the vacuum cleaner in his hands. “I thought we had more time.”

“It’s fine, though.” Isack was following behind Liam while looking down at his watch. “We did most of what we wanted to do in record time.”

Now starting a group conversation together, the rookies were still acting as if it was normal for them to be here. Meanwhile, you and Max were speechless. Eventually, you broke out of your trance and interrupted them.

“Guys, what the hell are you doing here?” You could’ve asked more nicely, but there wasn’t time for that right now. “I want an answer, quick, as to why you thought you could break in and enter our flat.” You weren’t mad, but more like dumbfounded at their presence.

“Well, you gave us a key.”

“Correction, you gave Kimi a key.” Gabriel’s tone was sharp, as he looked at the youngest driver with daggers in his eyes. “Which I’m still not understanding why him and not me.”

“The key is for emergencies only”, you reminded them. “And we gave it to Kimi because we figured that him living in Italy would prevent any of those living in Monaco from getting in whenever they wanted.”

“But apparently, it seemed like Kimi wasn’t the best choice.” Max’s eyes were fixated on the Italian, as the meaning behind his words were obvious.

“Wait, no! I’m sorry”, Kimi apologised. “They forced me!” He then claimed while pointing at the other rookies in accusation.

“You little shit…” Ollie’s eyes were wide at the realisation that Kimi would betray his friends so easily. “As if you weren’t immediately on board with the idea of surprising them!”

“Everyone just stop talking now”, you ordered. With a sigh, you ran your fingers through your hair as you thought about your next move. “We came back here with the idea of relaxing, and I don’t want to waste all the other relaxing we did while on break. I’m giving you one chance to explain how long you’ve been there, exactly what you did in the flat, and why you believed that it was worth using the emergency key for it.”

Opening their mouths all at the same time, the rookies were ready to explain themselves and individually plead their case. Already sensing the chaos that it would lead to, Max prevented them from talking as he raised his hand.

“Not all at once,” he clarified. Scanning the rookies, his gaze then settled on one of them. “Jack, I trust you to be quick and concise.”

“Y–yeah”, he said before gulping from the pressure Max was putting on him. “Okay, so we knew you guys were coming back today because that’s something you told us after Silverstone. Meaning well, we thought it would make you guys happy to come back to a clean flat and a dinner ready because we imagined that you weren’t going to be motivated to take care of that after just being back from a holiday. So we all arrived around noon to dust everything” – Jack pointed to the vacuum in Liam’s hands – “do your laundry, buy groceries, prepare food” – he then pointed to the pot he had brought from the kitchen earlier on. “And yeah, that’s it.”

All nodding in agreement, the others were backing up Jack’s words. They really hadn’t thought that it would lead to that situation, but they were now realising that maybe it hadn’t been their brightest idea. While silently waiting for you and Max to come to a conclusion – you two were currently having a telepathic conversation to decide the next step, the rookies were sweating from stress.

Eventually, you finally broke your eye contact with Max and faced the rookies.

“We can’t argue that this isn’t super sweet of you to do all that for us.”

“But we weren’t joking around when we gave one purpose to the key,” Max added. “We’re willing to let you keep it, as long as we can be sure to trust you.”

Not knowing if they were actually allowed to speak up yet, the rookies chose to just nod in confirmation.

“We understand that this was supposed to be a surprise, and we do appreciate the effort.” Deep down, you were actually really happy to come back to a clean home and a dinner that honestly smelled delicious. “But next time, just tell us beforehand.”

“Even if it’s supposed to be a surprise?” Isack asked, his nervousness still obvious.

“Yes, even if that defeats the sole purpose of it. I love them – and you, but I’d feel more comfortable knowing ahead of time that people will enter the sanctity that is our flat.”

“The flat is sanctity, okay.” Making a mental note, Ollie nodded at the new knowledge that you really valued your home.

Thinking that the rookies had now all understood what you and Max had been unhappy with, you decided that it would still be nice to enjoy what they had taken time preparing for you.

“So, what’s for dinner? I hope you didn’t trash our kitchen to make a Michelin-star course”, you teased.

“Oh no, don’t worry. We kept it pretty simple”, Gabriel reassured. “You guys can enjoy what is definitely the best pasta of your life.”

“And I would know”, Kimi bragged.

“We also made a chocolate cake”, Ollie said. “And we bought fruits to keep it healthy – there’s some fresh juice in the fridge, by the way. What did we put in it, again?”

“Banana and strawberry in the first one”, Gabriel reminded. “And then, it’s peach with apricots in the second one.”

“You guys made a feast, okay. Well, what are we waiting for to eat?”

“Wait, the sauce! Oh my God…” Suddenly remembering about the last ingredient that hadn’t been ready yet when you and Max arrived, Jack panicked at the thought of it having burnt while you had all been talking. Soon coming back with a smaller pot, Jack sighed in relief when he looked at its content. “False alarm, sorry.”

“Now, you two are ready to eat. And we can finally leave you alone in peace,” Kimi announced.

“What do you mean alone?” Max wondered. “You did all that to not even spend the evening with us?”

“We didn’t want to impose”, Liam explained. “You two can have a nice couple’s night in.”

“I think you already did impose, though. Also, we spent the last week and a half just the two of us so we might enjoy some company.”

“Really?” The rookies marvelled at your invitation, excited at the prospect of spending some time with you and Max.

“Yeah, go sit before we change our mind.” Max motioned to the table, before he decided to get more plates and cutlery from the kitchen as he had just noticed that Gabriel had only set the table for two.

Now over the moon, the rookies all thanked you and Max for being so comprehensive and generous. They couldn’t believe that they were somehow getting away with it, and they now knew to never abuse your kindness ever again – the emergency key would definitely never be used again outside of its original purpose.

So much for relaxing at home, you thought before taking a seat between Isack and Liam. Playing grid mum hadn’t been part of this break at all – you had only planned to take back this function in Spa, and not earlier. But as you looked around the table, you realised that the situation simply felt comfortable and familiar. It was just easy to be there, at home, with Max and the rookies. It was the first time that they were actually all here together, and you didn’t think that you would now be able to have it any other way. The flat wasn’t made for a whole family – especially one as big as the one you had ended up with – but the way the space was filled with chatter and laughter as you were all cramped around the table, just felt natural.

Maybe your family was slightly chaotic – and a bit dysfunctional as Max had said a couple weeks ago – but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world, because it was your weird not so little anymore family.

..........

Taglist: @umm-i-love-u @callsign-mirage @freyathehuntress @elieanana @suns3treading @fastandcurious16 @l3thal-l0lita @urmomsgirlfriend1 @guacala @delululeclerc @st4r-girl-official

Thank you for reading, hope y'all enjoyed this one🫶🏻

I really like this chap bc i felt like i hadn't written enough ab the relationship w max compared to the dynamic w the rookies, and I'm glad ab how it turned out bc i just wanted to highlight how much of a green flag max is in this fic

Draft for the next chap (spa & budapest) is slowly but surely being written + i have 2 fics almost finished that i hope to post soon - one is like 90% done and the other is halfway done I'd say (idk if I'm being too confident mais osef😭) so stay tuned for those!!

See you soon, take care of yourselves, love y'all xx

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x you #max verstappen x you #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #grid mum series<3

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devskindawritingblog · 3 days ago

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Could do polytrix x fem!reader

R is at a huntrix concert with her little sibling *big age gap between them and has gaurdianship over them and basically raising them. Whatever the reason on how she got custody is up to you and as well as the gender of the little sibling. Both are big fans of huntrix*

During the concert, they get separated and luckily the girls the one who found the young sibling and help reunite them and fell for r after seeing how she was interacting with her sibling

It was so cute how they interacted with the fans during the movie especially at the at the end.

Idk why but imo and hc’s despite her tough appearances, I kind of see Mira acting like a total softie when it comes to the fans, but also the other members of huntrix, and Bobby too. There were fan hc’s when she accidently called Bobby dad

Meanwhile despite Zoey being the unhinged loveable one, I can see her being the type who squishes your cheeks at seeing smth cute thing as she loves turtles and let borrow her stuffed turtles for comfort. rumi i see as a leader that joins in their shenanigans but also someone who keeps an eye to make sure the demon don’t claim this little one as well as the other people and yk since they’re protective of their fans

Concert

Polytrix x fem reader

An: My first request yay!! I thought this was so so cute I had to do it. I decided to give the reader a little sister and I named her Maya because reddit told me it was a very like internationally friendly name. Like lots of different countries, I don’t know, I was trying to find a name that could be ambiguous as to where the person is from. Reader and Maya don’t have set ages but my idea is that reader is around like 20-24 but it really doesn’t matter and Maya is probably like 5-7 ish, again doesn't really matter. There isn't much lore but reader has sole custody of her sister and they have been living on their own for 2 years now. What happened to their parents is not mentioned so you can get creative if you want. I also didn’t mention where they live, it’s just not where huntrix lives. This is a different type of fic than I normally write. I feel it would have been better as multiple chapters but I like how i fit it all as well.

Also I’m going away for the weekend so the other request will be started when I come back 😘

Word count rounded: 2.6k

“C’mon! We gotta get a good spot!” Your sister squeals, dragging you by your hand through the crowd.

It's you and Maya's first time at a Huntrix concert. You have been saving up for months now to finally give you and her the best night ever. You wanted to pull out all the stops for her tonight. That included a stop at the merch stand, and with both of you dressed in Huntrix merch, you made your way through all the people. You finally reached a pretty good spot, close enough to the stage. Your sister tugged on your sleeve, her other hand clutching her light stick. “Can I go on your shoulders?” Maya pleads, pouting. “Fine,” you smile, kneeling down. “Come on, climb on,” you say, helping her steady herself. “Thank you!! This is so cool!!” She squeals, clutching the lightstick with both hands now, her feet swinging; clearly excited.

–

You have been the sole caretaker of your sister for a few years now. It's been hard trying to balance work and taking care of her. You both have been fans of Huntrix for years. Their music has gotten both of you through the worst days and the best. You play their music while cooking dinner and driving her to school. Maya even had a Huntrix-themed birthday party last year, which her friends loved. You really have tried your hardest to give your sister a comfortable life. When you heard that Huntrix was touring in your city, you couldn't help but start saving up money. And now the day has finally come. It was worth it just to see the ecstatic look in her eyes. That look continued when the show finally started. Maya is singing and dancing. She practically memorized them all, and being on your shoulders didn’t stop her from dancing.

Song after song the two of you sang and screamed and danced. Your feet hurt, but it was so worth it to see her smiling face. It was unlike anything you have ever experienced, and when it finally ended, your sister was somehow full of energy and exhausted at the same time. You kept her on your shoulders as you both made your way to the exit.

“That was so cool! Did you see Mira's hair? I want my hair to be pink too! And when I'm grown-up, I'm going to be a singer just like Rumi!! Can I be Zoey for Halloween? You can put my hair in the buns!” Maya gushes. “Maybe you can dye your hair when you're older; you can definitely be a singer, but if you do… I have to get VIP tickets to your concerts. You could for sure be Zoey, though. I think that's a great idea.” You smile, giving your sister a little glance as she rambles on and on.

Both of you finally made your way toward the exit, but the more time passed, the more you realized that you needed to make a stop at the bathroom. “Maya? I need to go to the bathroom. Do you need to go?” you ask, stopping near the bathroom and placing her on the ground. “Nope… I can stand outside… I’m a big girl,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head away. “Are you sure?” you sigh. “Fine. I'll be really quick. Just stand here and don’t move, okay? Then on the way home we can grab a treat.” You promise, giving Maya a pat on the head before turning and walking into the bathroom.

–

“Okay, Maya, let’s go get ice cream,” you say, turning to look at where you left your sister and are surprised to find no one. Your heart sinks a little as you pace around the venue searching. Why are concerts so crowded? She could be anywhere. What if someone took her? Your fear bubbles up as you start moving through the halls faster. “Maya!? Where are you?” You feel tears brimming up in your eyes before you hear a distant.

“Maya? That's a very pretty name.”

“Well, you could tell us what your sister looks like; we could help you find her.”

You turn the corner, and about a thousand feelings rush through your mind. You see Maya surrounded by the members of Huntrix. Mira is kneeling down beside her, holding her hand, while Zoey is sitting criss-crossed on the ground. Rumi is standing bent over a little to speak to her easier. Your sister is wiping her face as if she's been crying. That finally snaps you out of your trance, and you rush toward her, relief flooding you.

“Maya!” you yell, and all four of them turn their heads. Maya's eyes light up, and she runs right into your embrace. You bend over, pulling her into your arms as you scoop her up, holding her tight. You place her on your hip, arm wrapped protectively around her. “Maya, you scared me so much… Where did you go?” You ask, pressing a little kiss to her temple, still not letting her go.

“I'm sorry… I thought I could find my way back. I got lost, and scared. But I found Mira and Rumi and Zoey.” She smiles, her eyes still a little puffy. You turn your attention to the pop stars in front of you, almost forgetting they were standing not even five feet away. They are all standing up now, smiling fondly at the scene in front of them. You almost have a heart attack seeing them close up. “Uh—thank you! Thank you so much for… Helping my sister “It's just really big fans, and I—well, I'm so grateful.” You stumble through your thank yous, torn between fangirling and being appreciative.

“Oh, it's no problem really. We love meeting fans,” Rumi says.

“Really, your sister is very cute; after she calmed down, she told us all about her amazing big sister and how great she is,” Zoey adds.

“You said that?” You ask, turning to Maya, and she beams, hugging you around the neck. “You are awesome… This is the best night of my life,” she smiles, resting her head on your shoulder, her exhaustion catching up to her. Her eyes flutter closed as she falls asleep, going limp in your arms.

You hear a collective “Awwwww” from Huntrix as they coo. “That’s adorable,” Mira sighs. “She’s so tired; she knows all your songs, and we learned the dances. I've been saving up to see you guys with Maya. She will be talking about this for weeks now.” You say, rubbing a soothing hand down her back while she sleeps.

“It's been hard; for the last 2 years it's just been me and Maya. Your guys' music is like the one thing that always keeps us together.” You explain. “It's just you two?” Zoey asks. “Yeah, I have custody of her now… So this means a lot for us. She idolizes you guys so much.” You add.

“That’s so inspiring. She is right; you really are an amazing sister.” Rumi says, fondly. You almost have a heart attack hearing one of your favourite idols complimenting you. “Thank you… I would do anything to make her happy.” You smile, looking down at your now snoring sister.

“That's very admirable,” Mira says. “Ooh! I have an idea!” Zoey pipes up, pulling something out of her pocket. She pulls out a few photocards and a Huntrix poster. “I think you and Maya should have these… I think you two would appreciate it the most.” Zoe explains, handing them to you.

“Really? Thank you so much. She's going to love these.” You smile, tucking them in your bag. “And this is for you,” Zoey adds, extending her hand again. This time it's a sticky note with a phone number on it. You blink, a little confused. “What’s this?” You ask, turning it over in your fingers.

“My number” Zoey smiles, like it's obvious. Your jaw drops a little, and she giggles. “If you two are ever in South Korea, we should do something. Or if we have another show here. We could go out for boba or something… Whatever Maya wants.”

“I… I don't even know what to say… This isn’t normal, right?” You ask, finally picking your jaw off the floor. They all laugh, and Mira is the one to speak up. “It's not… But you’re really inspiring, and well... you’re kinda cute.”

“What Mira is trying to say is… we would love to hang out someday.” Rumi adds, And you stay silent, your brain almost unable to process such a sentence. You finally sputter out a “Yeah! I’d, I mean we would love that. This is crazy.” You say your voice is a little shaky.

“Perfect!” Zoey exclaims. “See you later then; tell Maya she would be an amazing singer,” Rumi adds, melting at the sight of her drooling on your shoulder.

After that night, your life changed in a way you would have never imagined. You drove home in silence, playing over the insane interaction until your brain hurt. You tucked Maya into bed, turning over the sticky note in your fingers. Before you went to sleep, you anxiously added the number into your messenger. You sent a simple message, thanking them again for the stuff.

Over the next few months you kept up communication with all three of the members. Maya has been demanding updates about your “girlfriends,” and every time you tell her they are not your girlfriends, she does not listen. Every time she has her friends over, she tries to tell them about her sister's very famous girlfriends.

July rolled around, and you woke up to a text explaining that they had a tour date in your city again. You lit up at the text, telling Maya about your upcoming boba date. Just like you, she was bouncing off the walls, excited to hang out with her idols. The boba date went as well as you could think. You met up outside the boba shop near your apartment. They offered to pay for your orders, and when you all got a delicious drink, you walked around the city, enjoying the weather.

The girls were dressed way more low-key than usual so as to not draw attention. Mira let Maya ride on her shoulders for a while. She was beaming from ear to ear as she got a personal ride around town. When she finally got off, she held hands with you and Zoey and convinced you two to swing her while you all walked. And when you made your way past a little street vendor, Rumi bought her a cute frog keychain. You walked back to your apartment, Maya asleep on you as you piggybacked her home. The four of you talked all the way back, and in a desperate attempt to keep it going, you invited them in.

You spent most of the night talking on your couch and eating snacks. You joked and laughed like you've known them for years. As midnight rolled around, the girls had a surprise that they had been waiting for a while to ask.

“So ... We know this whole thing has been new for you and us, but… Our final show of the tour is back in South Korea. And we were thinking. We would love to have you and Maya come to it. I know what you're thinking… But we will pay for your flights. You two have meant so much to us, and we have fallen for you. Maya is such a great kid, and seeing you two together is so sweet,” Rumi explains.

You can hardly contain your excitement. After those months, you have grown as close to them as you were with your sister. They were more than just idols to you. They were just Mira, Rumi, and Zoey, and you might not be able to say it out loud, but you loved them. Knowing they wanted you just as much was the final switch for you.

The show was as good as it could possibly be. Paying for your flights and getting you two VIP tickets and a backstage tour. Maya couldn’t be happier; it was practically a dream come true for her and you, of course. After the show, you all went back to their penthouse to hang out again. Maya showed them a dance she made, much to their excitement. After a fun-filled night, she fell asleep, head on Mira’s shoulder. The three of you cooed as your sister curled up in Mira's lap.

Mira smiles fondly. “I think I’m her favourite.” The three of you giggle. “That's a hard title… She does love all of you guys so much.” You say, your heart melting at the adorable sight. “I should take her to bed,” you say, scooping Maya out of Mira’s lap and carrying her into the spare room you both are sleeping in. When you return, the girls are all sitting on the ground, and you take your spot next to them.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for all of this. You guys have changed our lives. I really care about you three. In more than just a fan way.” You explain, fiddling with your fingers. “We understand what you mean. We feel the same about you. Maya is like our little sister. And you well… We really like you. I know it's a little crazy to think about… But we want you to be with us.” Rumi says, reaching out to take your hand. Of course you agreed, and after lots of convincing and overthinking, you and Maya moved in with them. It was something new for the both of you, but it truly changed both of your lives.

It's been a few months since you and Maya packed up your life and moved in with Huntrix. You couldn’t ask for better girlfriends. They took care of Mata so well and are so good with her. The girls gave you and Maya your own rooms. She was absolutely thrilled. She did end up being Zoey for Halloween, much to her excitement.

Mira came home one day with a pack of little pink hair strands so Maya could have pink hair as well.You found both of them kneeling in the living room. Maya’s hair was littered with little pink strands. “Look at my hair! Thank you!” she exclaims, giving Mira a surprisingly crushing hug for a little kid. Zoey enters the room, eyes lighting up at the sight. “Wow, Maya, look at your hair… Just like Mira’s… I can't even tell the difference.” She giggles while pulling out her phone to take a picture. Rumi is the last to enter, also laughing at the adorable sight. “Look, Rumi! I'm Mira!” Your sister exclaims, running to climb onto the couch, striking a pose. You all laugh.

Maya runs across the couch over to Rumi on the other side. And like the clumsy little kid she is, she trips, heading straight for the floor. You, Mira, and Zoey gasp, a little too far away to help her. Rumi quickly dives forward, catching Maya in her arms and landing on her back on the ground. You catch your breath, and Maya sits up in Rumi's arms, still a little in shock. “Are you good?” Rumi asks, brushing her hair out of her face. “You gotta be careful; we can’t have you getting hurt.” Rumi says, giving her a hug before Maya climbs out of her lap.

Maya rushes over to sit herself in your lap before she smiles. “Best day ever.” She giggles, hugging you one final time.

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #huntrix x reader #mira x reader #polytrix x reader #rumi x reader #zoey x reader #polytrix x fem reader #fem reader

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m3mento-m0rii · 15 hours ago

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HIYA!!! First of all I am absolutely INLOVE with your writing!!! LIKE HOW IS IT SO GOOD?????? ❤️❤️❤️❤️ IVE SORTA JUST BEEN GOING THROUGH AND READING ALL OF YOUR HEADCANONS, WHAT IFS,ETC.

This is my first time asking for a request, so apologies if it sounds kind of awkward? Basically what if the saja boys S/O had a plushie of them but they gave the plushie more attention then them, how would they act??? (I have a very big bias to mystery and baby ❤️)

THANK YOU FOR LISTENING ❤️ LOVE YOUR WRITING AGAINN ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Plush Problems—

2.6k words; Saja Boys x Reader Masterlist | Requests paused!

You can't just replace them with the doll. That's simply incorrect.

A/N: Hi anon!! Thank you so much for your kind words, and I'm sorry it took me so long. It's been a busy week for me, but . . . yeah I'm back. Anyways I love to hear that you've been reading everything!! And your request isn't awkward, it's fine. Also, I interpreted your request initially as them gifting the doll to reader as well, but . . . I think it's still okay? I hope you enjoy!!

Jinu—

You had asked him to go to the store before he came over to get snacks! It was time for another one of your movie nights with him—a tradition that started when you tried to teach Jinu about pop culture. And as any good boyfriend would do, he ended up walking between aisles, hunting down all the snacks you had listed in your last text.

It had taken him a little longer, though, because in wandering around, he managed to get a little lost in the process.

Well, ‘lost' is a strong word. Perhaps better is ‘side-tracked’.

In his defense, stores are a lot different than how he remembered them!

Eventually, though, he was walking back to checkout, trying to remember how you said it worked. Passing displays meant to tempt you into last minute buys that you didn’t need—food, toys, plushes.

That’s when his eyes settled on a particularly special display. Small,stuffed, familiar faces that he’d come to see every day, outfits that meant costumes for most and average wear for him. Among them, the only one with dark hair—a plush. Of him.

And who likes plushes?

Jinu easily plucked it off the shelf, placing it carefully in the basket next to the other snacks. He offered a playful grin to the cashier, who looked between the mimicry and him almost gobsmacked.

» ⊱◈⊰

Your apartment was almost more familiar to him than his own. More homey, too—how could it not be, when you had filled it with things that proved a life lived.

Cute, too, with all the stuffies lying around, and whatnot. His favorite was the lopsided bear one on the couch.

“Did you find everything alright?” You asked, and Jinu rustled through the bags he carried—he flashed you something proud and knowing, pulling the little doll out from its plastic confines.

“Better.”

Gasp. Sparkles. The world lit up, and you pulled the little plush from his hands. “What? I didn’t know they were making this kind of merch for you guys already!”

“I just didn’t think they’d be in the stores so soon,” Jinu tried to say casually, secretly preening as you cooed over him. Just tiny. You beamed, taking him by the hand and pulling him quickly towards the couch. “It reminded me of you when I saw it, silly-!”

“Sit!” You laughed, sitting in the middle of the couch as you reached for the remote. Some classic slasher was on the TV, as it had been for the rest of the month, too. Jinu didn’t really mind—really, there was something fun in complaining about the dumb decisions characters made.

Except, there was one problem, starting easily about fifteen minutes in.

Why are you cuddling with the plush instead of him? It’s YOUR movie night, not the stuffy.

When someone’s being brutally murdered on screen, you pretended to cover the DOLL’s eyes instead of his. It can’t see. It lacks anything to perceive everything with! And you hold it close to your chest at the tense parts—even if you’ve seen this a hundred times—instead of nestling into his side for the experience.

He’s right there?

Hello??

Jinu doesn’t think anything of it. You know what? It’s okay. Little him can have you today, because he gets you every other day AND twice on Tuesdays.

Until you start intentionally messing with him about it taking his place.

“Your hand is free?”

“He’s already holding it!”

You couldn’t be serious.

Finally, though, Jinu had enough. A few days of enduring this blasphemous treatment resulted in him taking your hands, a grim expression on his face. He could feel your pulse jump under his fingertips. “We need to talk.”

Talk? What was there to even talk about?? Jinu watched you practically freeze under his gaze. Instant fear.

“About the doll.”

Instant laughter.

“Why are you laughing?? It can’t take my place, (Y/N)!”

“HE, Jinu, HE!”

He glared at you, gently shaking your shoulders. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, holding on to his arms. “What about your very real Jinu . . .”

“Are you jealous of—”

“No.” He quickly cut off. But your smile softened into something more affectionate, and his own expression shifted, too.

“I only love him because it’s you . . . but I guess the real thing is much better.”

Now? The stuffed copy of him lies waiting patiently on your bed, and Jinu did, too; but only one of them got to be in your arms. This time, it wasn’t the doll.

Take that . . .

Abby—

You were having a rough week.

It was just . . . one of those periods that everything seemed to test you. People stressing you out, too many dumb, little things that went wrong, swarming and spiraling into problems that felt impossible.

Lucky for you, you had . . . Abby!

. . .

Is what you would say, if he wasn’t finishing up a tour. Being an idol made him busy. Not because he wanted to be; he was always only a call away, but sometimes that also meant another city. Another country.

Nothing made Abby feel worse than not being there for you physically. What was possibly the point of his size if he couldn’t give you the best hug after the worst day? How could he fix this? What could he do?

Lightbulb.

You crashed into him the moment he stepped into your place, arms tying around his torso as you pressed your face into his chest. Abby laughed at you, pulling you tight, enough to remind you that yes, he was there, and you had him again. “Missed me, huh?”

Even though it was a tease, even though he smirked, he still felt a little guilty. Hopefully, this would solve that. You only hummed, sighing. Your body melted more into his, and Abby’s arms loosened. Just to reach for something.

“Okay, I know you had a rough week. I think I have a solution,” he lifted your head, presenting you with . . .

Little Abby!!

IMMEDIATE game changer.

Abby fell for the way your expression changed into something sweeter, the tired look on your face thawing into something more tender. “When did—where did you get him?”

He carefully dropped the plush into your hands, noting the way you handled it carefully, observing the floral print of his shirt, the small details meant to mimic him.

“A fan was selling them at our last show! Spitting image of me, right?”

You smiled, genuinely, the kind that you can see in your eyes, and he knew that he had done his job properly. “How was your trip, Abby?” And everything was fine again.

At least, up till the point you stopped talking about your day when he couldn’t see you??

He’d wait. Maybe you just forgot. Then, on the next call, you wouldn’t mention it again. You sounded okay . . . but, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to hear from you.

When he got back and you didn’t say anything about it in person, continuing past his slight pout without a thought, Abby gave in.

“Aren’t you gonna tell me about your day?” He raised a brow, watching expectantly.

“Oh, I already told lil’ Abby.”

“Okay, but what about me?” He felt like he shouldn’t even have to ask that question! Right?

But you seemed hesitant. Unsure. Your eyes flitted away from him, and he knew that it was more than just ‘forgetting’ to tell him. “. . . Did you still want me to tell you?”

What?

“Of course I do. It’s not to stop you from talking to me,” he gently pushed your head back towards his, but he couldn’t force you to meet his eyes.

“I don’t know . . . sometimes I feel like I complain too much. Or I’m too sensitive.”

How could you be? Abby didn’t think about those things at all. All he really thought was that you’d need some extra love the next time he saw you (which he was always happy to give, even if he teased you about it). Because life could be tough. Gently, he tapped your cheek, your eyes slowly meeting his brown ones.

“Look at me . . . I’m your boyfriend. You’re supposed to complain to me and I’m supposed to make you feel better. Just like you do for me.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

Abby huffed quietly, shaking his head. “It bothers me that you don’t think I wanna be there for you.” And he meant it. You were never a burden. He liked hearing about everything, even your problems, because it made him feel like he could be there. And if he helped you solve them, well, that was one weight of your shoulders and his. “You can talk to me about anything, alright? Even when I’m gone. Especially when I’m gone.”

Just like always, you found yourself in his arms again. And at the same point, the weight of them settled carefully around you. Real hugs were better than plush hugs, anyway (but don’t let lil’ Abby hear you say that).

Mystery—

Honestly, you didn’t know when the little copy of your boyfriend had become a part of your collection. You were just admiring all the plushes and . . . Oh, look. It’s there.

It felt kind of alive sometimes. You swore you didn’t move it around, but . . .

Though, it quickly became your favorite thing. And Mystery enjoyed seeing you with it, in those subtle ways of his. It might have been a slight source of pride, it made him smile, because . . . it made you happy. Seeing him made you happy.

The only problem? It was with you. ALWAYS.

Oh, Mystery’s come to flop into your lap? Little Mystery. Trying to wrap his arms around you? Little Mystery. He’s lying on your bed, trying to get comfortable against you amongst your sea of stuffies? Take one wild guess who sits atop them, king of them all.

Did you guess? Well, if you said, ‘Little Mystery,�� you’d be correct!

One day, Mystery is just watching you. Staring. His lips quirked into the tiniest frown, but it seemed more sulky than anything.

“. . . It’s in the way?”

“Huh?”

Mystery pushed the plush out of your reach, pulling you closer to him instead. “That.”

Your gaze flicked to the plush, once sitting harmlessly at your side. Now hunched over in a way actual Mystery could never be. “He’s just vibing.”

“He wants your attention. It’s my attention.”

“It’s still YOU.”

“Not if I can’t feel it,” Mystery insisted. “Put him up. Please.”

You nearly protested. Mystery had long since found a way to bypass that, though. All he had to do was shove those bangs of his out of the way, let you see his eyes, and look at that, little Mystery wasn’t a thought in your head.

Because little Mystery couldn’t compete with his soft, golden puppy eyes. And he couldn’t help but feel triumphant at that.

Romance—

It was a nice day. Just . . . the kind where the sky felt more blue than it usually did, and the sun more present, and the people more happy.

Romance noticed these things. He lived for these types of days. The world didn’t feel so terrible when people smiled and kids laughed, when the air was warm and the wind gentle. A good day!

For you, though . . . he hadn’t talked to you today, honestly. Not yet, he was supposed to see you anyway. But how could he guarantee you would have just as good of a day without having seen you yet?

Something caught his eye. He had to get it. All it took was a little pose, a picture, a simple, cute caption and you were blowing up his phone.

“DIBK YOU BIY IT??”

“WHAT STORE IS THQT?” “IT’S MY BOYFRIEND AOINGSOIN”

He grinned, taking the plush to the checkout.

Romance saw you about an hour later, holding the little (boy)friend up for you to see. And then you were running to him!

Oh, it was like a scene out of a romance movie. Somehow, the lighting seemed to enhance just at the sight of you, had he ever told you that? He playfully opened his arms, prepared to catch you . . . “Hi, love!”

Nothing. And an empty hand. A squeal, but not next to his ear, no gentle weight around his waist, nada.

You were cooing at the PLUSH instead.

Maybe it was more of a comedy.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR VERY REAL BOYFRIEND??”

“What do you mean, he’s right here?”

Romance glared at you, walking away. Scorned. “. . . I’ll remember this.”

“WAIT it was just a joke. Romance, come back—!”

Baby—

Baby didn’t keep too many things fans gave him. He just . . . didn’t. There wasn’t that much value in some things, and he was gifted too much to keep it all.

There was an art piece, dusty and untouched in the corner by his desk. He kept a few necklaces and bracelets just so no one could say he didn’t wear their stuff. A little clay figure someone had made that Romance and Abby insisted he kept because everyone had got one.

This time, someone had gifted him a plush of himself. Perfect shade of candy blue locks. His little hat, puffy and perfect, overly sweet expression on his features. It was well made. It didn’t look like him, in his opinion (he wasn’t that soft looking, was he?), but it was well done. It would be a shame to just . . . throw it away.

But he didn’t want more things cluttering his shelves . . .

Who WOULD appreciate it?

“A fan gave it to me,” Baby offered up. “I thought maybe you’d want it instead. I mean, I don’t really . . .”

“I’ll take it!!”

You and baby Baby? BEST FRIENDS. He came everywhere with you! He was amazing! But most of all . . .

You could use him to get on Baby’s nerves.

Baby would reach for a brand new, open chip bag. You smacked his hand away. “That’s Baby’s??”

Baby gave you an incredulous look. “I’m Baby.”

“Baby Baby needs to eat, too!” You huffed, trying to hide the way your lips quirked up.

“HIS MOUTH IS SEWN SHUT.”

That wasn’t even the end of it. He tries to sit next to you on the couch? “That’s Baby’s spot.”

You couldn’t be serious. He stared, you stared back. His eyes flickered to the doll, then back to you.

“He can sit in the cracks.”

“RUDE.” So you put the plush in your lap. And you refused to let him touch you. Okay. Okay, fine.

The final straw, though?

How were you going to avoid one of his kisses!

You pushed his face away, ignoring the indignant twitch of his eyes as you stopped him from chasing. “What now?” He already knew you were going to say something dumb.

“Not in front of the baby.”

He only watched. You laughed, keeling over. He had something for you.

The next day, Baby was strangely pleased with himself. Not an annoyance (doll) in sight, nothing to get in the way of him and you; and you seemed to have realized that from the way you had stormed in.

Arms crossed. Expectant brow raised. No Baby in hand. “Why, pray tell, is Baby locked in a glass case screwed to my shelf??”

Baby only shrugged, continuing to scroll through some social app on his phone. “He got tired, but he still wanted to see.”

“You made him a little cellphone and a sign that said ‘positively do not open!’”

He only masked a mischievous grin, staring at you from over his screen. “What? He needed to be able to talk to Annabelle, duh.”

“BABY—!” » ⊱◈⊰

A/N: Okay, trying to get back into the requests! I hope you enjoyed, and see you soon!

—Captain Morii 🌤️

Morii's Business Class: @kpopmultistans @momentomoribitch @queensnowlake-wof

#saja boys x reader #kpdh fanfic #abby saja #baby saja #baby saja x reader #mystery saja #mystery saja x reader #abby saja x reader #romance saja x reader #romance saja #kdh jinu #jinu x reader #kpop demon hunters x reader

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satoruzip · 2 days ago

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“just like that, sweet girl.” nanami says as you sink your sopping cunt onto his cock.

he watches you with half lidded eyes taking in every inch of your body. he traces his finger over the soft curve of your ass and helps you move up and down. it’s slow, but it’s so good.

“does it..” you bite your lip. “does it feel good.?”

your expression makes the man shiver. he’s had you on top of him before, but this almost agonizing speed made it feel different.

“feels so good sweetheart.” he smiles slightly and begins to close his eyes.

soft noises spill from the both of you and eventually you lay on the blonds chest. the new position pushes nanami even deeper.

“ken..” you look up at him “it’s so deep.” your voice cracks and eyes begin to roll back.

this pushes the man straight over the edge. that tantalizing slow pace was now replaced with deep fast strokes. your cunt squelches.

“so wet for me baby..” nanami rubs your back as he speaks, directly contrasting him ruining your insides.

the sweet soft moans were now something deep and guttural. you drool as he fucks into you. drops of precum mix with your fluids.

“so close..” you barely squeeze out. “gonna cum ken.”

as if on cue, the two of you cum at the same time. nanami continues moving for a bit, but eventually it becomes too much and he stills. the two of you lay in silence, breathing starting to even out. you look up at the blond and smile before placing your head on his chest again.

a/n- sorry it’s short i had trouble writing this :p thanks for all the love and thank you for reading ! as always asks are always open and i’ll write for any character if i know enough abt them :)

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aajxs · 3 days ago

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✷ and i promise, i'll be yours ft. lewis hamilton !

👑 જ⁀➴ you weren’t meant to matter this much to lewis. but somehow, between long calls, quiet coffees, and the way you never flinch under his gaze, something unspoken takes shape. he tells himself it’s harmless. that the line between you isn’t blurred, it’s just not there anymore. and maybe, that’s the problem. ( 6k / proofread and edited )

pairings ✷ lewis hamilton x fem!photographer!reader

contents ✷ age gap (40 and 24) / 18+ mdni / porn with plot / indirect workplace-adjacent power dynamics (freelancer x public figure) / oral (f receiving) / very lowkey praise kink / softdom!lewis / internal moral conflict is mentioned a few times (lewis) / couch sex / p in v / unprotected sex (wrap it up everybody)

authors note ✷ unfort this was completely self indulgent and was made solely because i was horny the other night and there is a lack of sir lewis hamilton smut, so i have taken matters into my own hands. enjoy and please thank casey for indirectly convincing me to write this

i recommend listening to. . . stay down by brent faiyaz . . .whilst reading for the best experience

masterlist / navigation

LEWIS ISN'T sure when the line, the one that separated you and him into two different worlds and deliberately warned him to keep away from you with an obvious ‘do not cross’ illuminated in bright red, became completely invisible.

At some point, he had to have stopped caring.

It could've been a long time ago, before he had the courage to just do something about it. Or maybe it was only recently, when fleeting touches that he's sure you never meant to let linger, started becoming the highlight of his days.

You make him feel like a teenager, and there's a sort of embarrassment that surrounds him in that sense. Because Lewis is a little more than fifteen years your senior, head full to the brim with knowledge about the world you've only barely gotten to experience yet, and he's stuck thinking about how you'd feel warming his bed at night like a boy.

Lewis has never been a particularly nervous man. He's well known for being calm and collected and sure, rarely letting the frustration show. And you? You are a mess in motion.

He knew it from the first time he saw you that you were a walking hurricane, too many months ago to count when you first stomped into that Mercedes hospitality room with twitching fingers that itch to be of use and scuffed sneakers you probably don't care to replace, demanding answers from a PR intern who clearly didn’t know how to handle you in the heat of the moment.

A photographer. Freelancing your way through his world with a confident mouth and a camera he's can tell you saved for years to afford, and too many opinions that he agrees with in the silence of his head because, unlike you, he has an image to uphold. Lewis has never known anyone who says no as often as you do, and it's not even out of rebellion. It's out of principle.

You mean every word, and you never think twice before speaking your mind. You wear what you want, out-dressing half the grid and nearly stealing the show without realizing it. You laugh too loudly, and Lewis sometimes hates that he lets it simmer. You make friendly jabs and poke at his defenses, crawling under his skin without trying too hard.

And Lord help him, he loves it.

There’s an edge to you that’s magnetic, and he's begun to let himself be alright with being the opposite pole that you tug in. You don’t defer to him like most people do; you treat him like he's achingly normal.

You tease him for little things like meditating and correcting people gently, but that doesn't stop you from listening. From watching him like you're memorizing him, noticing the things others don't, and painstakingly reassuring him when it becomes a little too much.

And it takes a while, but you let him in. You tell him you do other things, like paint and write and all the different creative stuff he imagines you're amazing at. You let him learn about you, and in turn, he tells you about the him he tries to keep far from racing.

You become something unspoken over decaf between busy meetings and tired conversations on the phone when you're both tucked into your beds and fighting sleep. The bond between you and him isn't exactly romantic, much to his dismay, but it's a little more intimate than simply friends.

Sometimes, when he's a little more aware and a lot less desperate, he finds himself deeming that as enough.

And Lewis really tries to stay respectful, he does.

He tells himself that you’re younger. That you’re still in college and figuring it all out. That you're at the age where everything burns fast and bright before it fizzles out, and while he's not particularly old, he’s lived long enough to know that chasing fire like that always ends in smoke.

But you're you.

Dropping voice notes at two in the morning when inspiration hits and you're on the way over. Showing up in his life in scattered, brilliant bursts that remind him of the fireworks that crackle when he wins. Talking about fucking light and contrast like it’s the most interesting thing in the universe, then telling him that the lens feels different depending on what you’re shooting that day.

There’s a kind of certainty in you that makes him ache because he's deemed you as something he can't have. You don't have everything figured out, and you don’t pretend to like most people your age. You move through the world unpolished and unfiltered because being raw means surviving, and something about how real you are makes him want you more.

And somewhere along the line, Lewis starts craving you like he craves wins in Silverstone. Letting the thought of you eat at him like every loss or mistake he nearly brushed over.

He tells himself you don’t see him like that. That you never really will. But it comes to a point where he can't ignore it anymore, and the deference he's so carefully tried to maintain starts unpeeling at the seams.

It’s not nothing. He thinks maybe it should be.

A fleeting moment in a quiet room. He’s at your flat for the millionth time this week, courtesy of the winter off-season. He likes your place more, a little less performative and much cozier than his. Lewis is somewhere across from you pretending to read, but instead of basking in the pages of his book he secretly basks in you through the curtain his curls cast over his eyes.

You're in the middle of editing a shoot that's likely due tomorrow, bare legs folded on the couch he's slept on too many times to count with your laptop propped against your knees and Roscoe, who you insisted he bring along every time he comes over, snoring at your side. You’re wearing one of his old sweatshirts, a throwaway one that's too faded for him to miss very much, and you’ve got your hair pulled out of your face to show off that focused look you get when you're in your element. It's maddening.

Everything about him being here, so comfortably in your presence, feels right. And that thought, quiet, natural, and a little dangerous, is what undoes him more than anything else.

You glance up briefly, brows drawn in concentration, then look back down at your screen. “Does this color grade look off to you?”

The question beckons him over, and he crosses the room slowly. His socked feet pad against the carpet softly, uncuffed sweats sweeping the floor as he treks over.

Lewis leans into the arm of the couch to get a good look at your screen, absentmindedly reaching past you to scratch Roscoe's head before drawing his inked hand back and clasping both of his hands together, like he's afraid of what might happen if they're free.

You're close enough to feel the heat radiating off of each other, but not quite touching. He pretends not to notice the proximity.

The image on your screen is sharp. Golden hues with shadows pulled in tight, your subject mid-laugh. He gives you a low hum of approval.

You nod once, distracted eyes flicking between layers.

He should get up. Give you space and find his spot across the room again. But he lingers, his own gaze flicking between your bare thighs and his sweatshirt pooling around your torso and the way the winter sun peeks through your broken blinds and catches the curve of your nose perfectly. You're tearing him apart, and you don't even know it.

Or maybe you do.

Because you glance over at him again, a little slower this time. Your head tilts like you're seeing something new, or maybe you’ve finally decided to acknowledge what’s been there the whole time.

“You alright?” you ask, lips twitching into a half-smile.

He huffs a quiet breath through his nose, his own little grin threatening the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, jus’ tired. Hit arms this morning before my run.”

You hum, like maybe you accept that answer, and let your gaze sit on him for a few more moments.

Then, softly, without taking your eyes off him, you ask, “When are you gonna stop looking at me like that?” It’s not accusatory. It’s not teasing, either. Just knowing.

Lewis blinks because there's no denying he's been caught. But he can play. “Like what?”

Jesus, he really is turning into a teenager again.

You, on the other hand, are not playing. Your brows cinch together softly, “You know what.” You reply, tone all too serious.

Silence pulls at the edges of your small living room, like it's listening in.

Lewis doesn't say anything, at least not right away. He studies you for a few moments too long, eyes scanning your face and memorizing it because, for some reason, he feels like if this conversation goes wrong, that maybe he won't see this side of you again. The domestic side that doesn't deflect or tease through a lens and instead watches him with the kind of steadiness he's alright with letting disarm him. The side that makes him breakfast and absentmindedly rubs out the tension in his shoulder blades after back day hits a little too hard.

Then, suddenly, his voice still soft regardless of how thick the knot in his throat has become, he mutters a low, “It's hard not to.”

His eyes don't leave yours, big and brown and bright enough that they remind you a bit of a doe.

That draws something nearly unnoticeable across your face. It's not quite a smile, not surprise, either. Just a quiet acknowledgment of what you already knew. You shift in your spot, and Roscoe stirs in his sleep with a sigh before hopping off the couch, scurrying to find somewhere a little quieter to continue his nap.

“It's not just you,” You admit, almost apologetically, “If that helps.” You add with a shrug. You avert your gaze when his becomes too much, eyes finding your computer screen again.

It helps for a split second, and then it doesn't. Because now, the thread of morality he's been white-knuckling for months tugs even harder.

Lewis doesn’t shift. He stays perched over the armrest, still leaning in close, still pretending like this proximity hasn’t rewired his nervous system. His fingers are locked tightly together, elbows pressed into the cushion where you sit a little too close. His knees are threatening to buckle under him for no reason at all, maybe just because you smell of cashmere and pine like the rest of your apartment.

You’re just beneath him, sunk into the couch with your legs curled under you and the stretched neckline of his sweatshirt slipping down your collarbone, entirely unbothered while he feels like he’s clinging to the edge of a cliff with his fucking pinky finger.

And now you’ve said it, that it’s not just him feeling this way, the admission already having settled somewhere deep in his bones. And you already seem ready to move on from the words you just uttered so simply to him.

He doesn’t respond right away. Lets the quiet ring around you both long enough for you to start getting comfortable in it again.

His voice, when it finally cuts through the silence, is rough around the edges. “I’ve been trying to keep it clean.”

You look up at him, watching as he rises from where he once leaned into your dainty couch. “You think this is messy?” You ask gently.

“No,” he says immediately, but then breathes out a laugh that isn’t really a laugh. “Maybe. Not in a bad way.”

Lewis makes his way into the spot next to you, slow and calculated like he's afraid to move too fast, and you absentmindedly lean into him the moment he sits. He leans into his knees, hands still linked and elbows on his legs. The distance narrows on its own. Your knee presses into his strong thigh, shoulders touching like they always do when you sit closer than you should.

“I didn’t want to make you think I only come around for one thing,” he says as you finally discard your computer. His eyes flicker over to the laptop as you let it clatter softly onto the glass coffee table, then back to you. “Didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You haven’t,” you say, surely. “You won’t.”

You’re not fidgeting, not trying to make the moment easier. You’re just letting it be.

“I don’t want to cross a line,” Lewis adds, still hovering over the precipice.

You scoff out a laugh, “We are well past that.”

You say it so casually, with that unmistakable hint of dry humor you wear like second skin, but Lewis hears the truth in it. You’re right. You are well past that. You were probably past it the first time he woke up on this very couch, Roscoe curled up next to him, and your half-empty cups from the night before still on the coffee table.

His lips twitch upward, like he’s weighing the consequences of grinning. “Suppose we are.”

You don’t say anything to that. You just tilt your head, eyes on him again. Really on him. You’re sitting so close he can feel the breath you pull in, and maybe you’re the one who’s suddenly nervous now, but you don’t move away. Not an inch.

And Lewis, finally, lets go of the pretense.

He unlaces his fingers slowly, shifts his weight just enough to face you without fully turning, testing the waters between you both. His eyes drop once, to your lips, then flick back up, then back down a few times.

You watch all of it happen in real time. And then, with a slight pull at the corner of your mouth, you amusedly say just above a whisper, “You can kiss me, you know.”

He lets out a breath, short and sharp, that sounds like relief and disbelief tangled together. “Yeah?” Lewis asks.

You nod, already leaning in like you don’t want to give him the chance to overthink it like he does with everything else. “Yeah.”

So he does.

Your lips meet halfway tentatively. Soft and careful like he's afraid you might run away if he's too eager. Your hands bury themselves in his T-shirt, but Lewis doesn't let his hands wander, not yet. Just lets a big hand hover over your bare thigh, enough to feel the heat radiating off your body, but not ready to let it land.

Where Lewis is hesitant, you're confident, and suddenly you're climbing into his lap and straddling his thighs like you belong on top of him. You lean in a little further, lips parting with a small, eager noise that barely leaves the back of your throat before he swallows it.

It's then that the thread he was trying so hard to protect snaps completely, and suddenly where his touch was once afraid to land, it now wanders.

A hand trails up to cup your face, and he lets his thumb stroke your cheek softly, like he's trying to sculpt you. His thumb brushes your jaw, tracing where it meets your neck, and that alone earns him the quietest gasp against his mouth. His other, the one that hovered just over your thigh, smooths over you slowly before finally bracing against your skin, like maybe he needs the grounding it gives. His fingers dig in just slightly, the way they might wrap around the wheel before a hard turn, firm and steady.

Lewis kisses you like he's been dying to, no more hesitation or lingering fear of rules and the heavy weight of expectations. You kiss him back like it's second nature, like maybe this was building in you for a while, too.

Your work is long forgotten, the laptop shut on the table behind you. The room hums with undeniable urgency, but neither of you is willing to go too fast. You pull away just barely, trying to find your breath. His mouth chases yours for a split second, and he breathes only because he has to.

Lewis murmurs your name, just under his breath as his eyes search yours. It's both a question and a warning. And you, still a little breathless and barely thinking about how this is a walking HR violation, nod like the answer has always been yes.

You pull him even closer by his shirt, not clumsy or rushed, just sure. Always sure. You tug him until his fingers are sliding up the hem of the sweatshirt you stole from him, fingertips grazing the soft skin of your waist.

He tries not to seem pathetic, but a little grunt leaves his plump lips when he feels just how warm you are underneath the fabric. The realness of the moment finally hits him as he lets his hands glide across your ribs.

And when you say his name, this time lower, a little shakier, it’s the last permission Lewis needs.

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for centuries.

The way you whisper his name, it’s not demanding. It’s not even really asking. It’s soft. It’s real. It’s you, right here, on top of him, letting him have what he’s spent too long aching for.

Lewis tilts his head, kissing you again with more weight now, but with purpose in his movements. You’ve officially given him the green light, and he regrets waiting this long for you. Your fingers curl at the nape of his neck, and when your fingers pull softly at his coils of hair, he groans low in his throat, the sound pulled from somewhere deep and starved.

You shift in his lap, and his hands fly to your hips to still you, shaky and firm. He’s holding you there, grounding himself with the weight of your body under his palms.

“Careful,” he murmurs, voice dipped in warning and all the things he’s been dreaming of doing to you for months now, “You’re not making this easy.”

You smile against his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip enough to make his pretty fingers flex. “Wasn’t trying to.”

Lewis lets out a soft curse, the kind he only mutters when patience finally wears thin. He moves his hands, lets them roam a little more freely now. Up the curve of your thighs, under the oversized sweatshirt adorning your torso, across the bare stretch of your back. You lean into his touch because it’s something you’ve been craving just as long as he has.

Your legs tighten around his hips. His lips move to your jaw, then just under your ear, then to the edge of your neck, where he lets his mouth linger. You shiver, pressing closer. His stubble scrapes soft against your skin, and you feel him smile, wicked and pleased.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” he asks against your throat.

You laugh under your breath. Not mockingly or amusedly, “Not really,” you murmur honestly, your voice threading soft against his skin as your fingers brush along the nape of his neck, “but I know I want it anyway.”

Lewis pulls back enough to get a good look at you. Not far enough to create any distance, especially not when he is this close to something that he thinks is dangerous enough to be his undoing but addicting enough to bring him some relief after the time he’s spent imagining this situation. His eyes search yours, and as much as he wants to ask again, to make sure that you’re in this, the words can’t seem to leave his mouth.

Your hands cup his jaw, fingers cradling him full of certainty, like you’ve already made your mind up and he’s the one with catching up to do. Your thumbs sweep softly along the edge of his stubble, and Lewis swears you could kill him and he would say thank you.

“Unless you don’t-”

“I do,” he cuts in quickly, quiet and firm. “God, I do.”

You smile, soft and bright and wholeheartedly pleased. You look like the one thing in this world he wants to be his.

You kiss again, like maybe your lips still haven’t gotten used to it, and Lewis sinks into you. Your hands slip under his shirt now, fingers skating across warm skin and toned muscle, and Lewis swears under his breath again. His hips roll without meaning to, pulling you closer into the cradle of his lap, like gravity is conspiring on his behalf.

He kisses down your jaw, across the hollow of your throat, leaving heat and promise in his wake.

Your breath stutters again, throat vibrating with a satisfied hum before you quickly stammer, “If we do this...” You trail off when Lewis looks up at you.

His thumbs brush against the waistband of your shorts. “It won’t be just once.”

You blink at him. “I’m not gonna be able to let this go after,” he clarifies. “Not interested in pretending it didn’t happen.”

Something about the way he says it, so completely confident, makes your heart do a dangerous stutter in your chest. You nod. “Good,” you say quietly. “Because I don’t want to pretend, either.”

Lewis lets his forehead rest against yours for a solid second, centering himself before crossing the threshold. Then he shifts, and suddenly you're beneath him with your head tilted back into the couch cushions and his strong arms braced on either side of your body, like he’s shielding you from the entire world and cocooning you into this moment.

The couch creaks under both of you, definitely not built for this, but neither of you can find it in you to care. You’re still in his hoodie and nothing underneath except a pair of dangerously cut shorts that he’s been thinking about ripping off you for the past hour.

Your fingers, once carefully wrapped around his nap, trail over his broad shoulders and curl into the back of his shirt. Your thighs bracket his hips, and whatever part of him was still holding out gives in completely.

Lewis finally lowers himself properly onto the couch, knees digging into the cushion that dips under the added weight of both of you and hips rolling into yours absentmindedly as his lips trail down your neck. Your body moves under him like you’ve both done this a thousand times already, like this is where it was always supposed to be.

He eyes you from where his lips are on your collarbone, chestnut gaze dragging over your flushed face and your kiss-bitten mouth, the sweatshirt that’s slipped enough off one shoulder to reveal the slope of your collarbone and nothing beneath, and Lewis feels his stomach tighten.

“You look…” He trails off, shaking his head, like even now, after feeling your skin and tasting you on his lips, he still can’t believe this is real. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

You exhale a breathy laugh, “Bit dramatic, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious,” he murmurs, leaning in again, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then another to your neck. “You don’t even know.”

You tilt your head a little further back into the armrest and stare down your nose at Lewis, fingers tangling themselves in his hair again before pulling him back into you with a gentle tug. His lips are warm and wet on your throat, nipping softly and leaving marks you won’t have the decency to cover up tomorrow.

You arch into his touch, his hoodie riding up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of bare skin above your low-rise shorts. His breath catches, and as if to anchor himself, his fingers dig into your waist where the skin is exposed.

“Lewis,” you moan, barely above a whisper, but it's enough. The sound of his name from your lips, ready and wanting, nearly undoes him on the spot.

He slides one hand along your side, under the fabric this time, slow and reverent. His fingers map the curve of your waist and the pattern of your ribcage, and for a moment, he’s learning you by feel alone. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says into your skin, voice hoarse.

You shake your head, “Don’t,” You reply quickly, “Please, don’t.”

He hums, deep and satisfied, and shifts to sit back just enough to pull the sweatshirt over your head. His eyes drag over you like he’s seeing you for the first time, every inch of newly exposed skin greeted with awe. Your chest rising and falling, goosebumps breaking out under the coldness of the room and the steely weight of his gaze. Before he can lean back down, you tug his shirt over his head, evening the field with a little grin.

His palms slide up your thighs, parting them gently as he settles back between them. His mouth finds your sternum, then lower, kissing a line down the center of you deliberately. It’s not hurried. None of this is. There’s a patience in him you wouldn’t expect, but maybe you should have. Lewis has never been the type to rush anything he cares about, regardless of the fast life he lives.

And right now, in this moment, he’s never been more patient.

“You’re driving me mad,” he mutters into your sternum, thumbs brushing over the hard perk of your nipples, “lounging around for weeks in my clothes, looking at me like I’m the goddamn problem.”

You gasp when his teeth graze just below your breast. “I noticed,” Lewis groans. “Every fucking time.”

Your fingers card through his hair again, and he leans into the touch because it’s something he’s been craving longer than he’ll admit, and you’re finally in reach. Then his hands are at your waistband, and he pauses, lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes.

A part of him thinks that this is a really bad idea. There is a slightly twisted part of him that feels a little bit like he’s taking advantage of you, that he’s absentmindedly pressuring you into this. The sane part of him knows he’s not, and by the way you just muttered, “Please,” you want this just as much as he does.

But the thought lingers, so he asks anyway, “Are you-”

You cut him off, “Lewis, if you don’t do something, I’m going to fucking blue-ball you.” You blurt sternly, your grip tightening in his hair like a promise. His lips upturn into a spit-slick grin, and he gets right to work.

“As you wish, my love.” The words leave his mouth so naturally that you nearly come undone then and there at just how easy they slip out.

His fingers loop softly over your shorts, then dig into your hip at the seam of your underwear. Lewis looks up at you briefly, catches a glint of frustration in your eyes, and he smiles as he hooks his finger over the band and slowly begins to tug both your undergarments and your shorts down your legs. He treats it like opening a present, similar to unwrapping something precious.

When they hit the floor, he takes a second. Just one, but it feels like everything. Lewis breathes out hard, like the sight of you like this may have knocked something loose in his chest.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he says, not even meaning to say it out loud but not caring that he does.

Then his hands, the tatted ones you’ve dreamt of too many times to count, are padding against your inner thigh. They leave a trail of heat and long-forgotten reverence in their wake, the light touch of his fingertips keeping you steady even as you tremble almost unnoticeably under him. Your hips lift involuntarily when they ghost over the one place you want him, and Lewis chuckles softly, deep in his throat.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs, voice low. “I’ve got you.”

The words fumble out the second he lets his thumb rub softly on your clit, eliciting the sweetest moan from you. He lowers himself slowly, like he’s savoring the moment, like if he moves too fast he might miss something important. His mouth replaces his fingers, kissing the inside of your thigh, bordering on devotion, teeth grazing lightly just to feel you jolt beneath him.

And then, finally, his tongue flicks over you. It’s gentle at first, testing. Teasing, maybe. A low, broken sound escapes your throat, legs tightening instinctively around his upper body. Lewis hums like that’s exactly the reaction he wanted from you.

His tongue moves with practiced control, slow strokes that build and build until you’re arching off the couch cushions and panting his name through clenched teeth. Your hands find his curls again, anchoring yourself, tugging him closer as if there’s any part of him that would ever consider pulling away.

“Lewis, fuck- don’t stop,” you gasp, voice unraveling thread by thread.

He groans against you, deep and satisfied. The vibration punches straight through you.

“Not goin’ anywhere,” he murmurs, mouth still working you open. “Told you, didn’t I? I’ve got you.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the words, your head tipping back and your chest rising and falling unevenly. You’ve been with people before, but nothing has ever made you feel so completely bare. Lewis knows exactly what to give and where to hold back, and your pleasure is the one thing driving him right now.

When his fingers join his mouth, thick and gentle, scissoring into you and curling just right, you know it’s game over. You fall apart around him with a loud, stuttering cry, your thighs tightening and hips lifting and your body begging him right there. He doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, sensitive, and breathless, gasping his name like it’s the only thing you can seem to remember.

He finally pulls back, lips wet and swollen, beard a little damp against his chin. You blink down at him, dazed and flushed and utterly ruined. Lewis stares at you like he’s just witnessed a miracle.

Then, in practiced motion, he shifts back up to kiss you, deep and achingly slow, letting you taste yourself on his tongue like a selfish claim. You wrap your arms around his neck and instinctively pull him closer, like you’re afraid the moment might end if he drifts too far.

“I told you,” he whispers between kisses. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

And the way you’re looking at him now, soft and certain and so completely his, he thinks already halfway there.

You’re still trembling when he moves back down your body, kissing along your collarbone and pausing between your breasts, just to plant a chaste kiss on your sternum. He nips and bites and teases, the heat of his mouth warming you in the winter cold.

Your breath catches when he pauses just below your chest, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Can I?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s something weighted in it. He wants all of you, but only if you’ll let him.

You tilt your head a little, a lazy smile playing at your lips, “Lewis, you just ate me out, and you’re asking if you can suck my tits?”

He shakes his head, smiling to himself before leaning back. He stares at you like you’re art, taking you in like he didn’t do a good enough job the first time. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re unreal.” He mutters, running his thumb just beneath the swell of your breast.

Then he bends down and takes one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling warm and slow, and your body jerks in response. You gasp sharply, fingers digging into his shoulders, steadying yourself as he litters your breasts with attention. His other hand kneads your opposite breast, rough palm dragging over soft skin, and the contrast has your thighs squeezing tight around his hips.

“Fuck, Lewis,” you breathe, the heat returning full-force, need curling low in your stomach once again.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “Just let me take care of you.”

And he does. He kisses his way down your torso again, pausing at your hipbone and kissing the sensitive spot there before slowly, fucking finally, sliding his sweats down low enough to free himself. You suck in a breath at the sight of him. Thick and heavy, a little flushed at the tip where pre-cum leaks.

“Still good?” he checks in, voice strained and held together by sheer will.

You reach up and cup his jaw again, dragging him into a kiss that’s sloppy and deep and full of promise. “Better than good,” you whisper against his lips, his forehead against yours, eyes closed in ecstasy. That’s all it takes.

He lines up with your entrance, gaze flicking between your impatient face and where you’re sopping wet and ready under him, and he pushes in slowly. Inch by inch, he watches you like a man obsessed. Like he's afraid to miss even a second of how you fall apart beneath him.

You gasp, legs wrapping around him tighter because even though you’ve made it this far, there's no saying he won’t run away. Lewis just swears filthily against your mouth.

He curses as he slides his cock into you, “You feel so good, baby.” Lewis grits.

He stills when he’s fully inside of you, and you stay like that for a beat. Hearts pounding in synchrony as your chests rise and fall in tandem. “Better than I ever imagined,” Lewis shudders, kissing your jaw. His first movement catches you by surprise, him sitting back into the couch and pulling you atop of him, taking a moment to get comfortable in what was your original position. Your legs straddle his hips tightly, and his head drops into the crook of your neck where he leaves soft kisses and lets ragged breaths warm your skin.

You move first, thighs burning as you lift yourself up and then sink back down onto him with the softest noise leaving your throat. Lewis’s hands fly to your hips, eyes searching yours as he asks, “What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”

Your lips upturn into a lazy smile, “How courteous.” You joke in response.

Lewis rolls his hips, lifting you in the process before thrusting back into you softly. It catches you off-guard enough that you wrap your arms around his strong body, using his shoulders as leverage. His arms find their way around you, too. One hand sits firm on your hip, and the other pushes you closer to him from where it sits on your back.

The rhythm of his thrusts is slow and calculated, but they hit deep enough to bruise. Lewis presses the softest kiss to the corner of your mouth, breathing in the moans leaving your lips when he pounds into you in the right place. Then another to your jaw, right on the corner where it's curved and slack in bliss. And another just beneath your ear, letting his lips linger there as he whispers sweet nothings while his skin hits yours.

“You’re doing so well, my love, such a good girl for me,” He groans once. Or maybe twice, he’s too lost in you to be sure.

You tell him, “Right there, Lewis,” in between cries, and then see stars as one just moments later.

His advances slow into occasional drives as you come undone for a second time, whimpers sliding off your tongue like chirps from a songbird. Music to his ears.

Somewhere in the moment when you’re too lost in coming down from the pleasure to notice, Roscoe pads back into the room with a low huff, circling once before collapsing into his usual spot by the couch. The dog regards you with a judgmental look, and you and Lewis share a fucked-out laugh.

You glance down at Lewis, taking him in like this could be the last time. He smells like something familiar, arms wrapped around you. You’re in his lap, still stuffed full and dripping a mix of your liquids and his onto his halfway pulled-down sweatpants. Your bodies are bare, but there’s no rush to cover up or pull away. No guilt or lingering doubts.

Just you, just him, and the warmth of your bodies pressed into each other.

“Stay?” you ask, almost hesitantly.

Lewis doesn’t even hesitate before muttering a soft, “Always,” into the supple skin of your neck.

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