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Devil’s spawn (2)
Summary: Your husband takes one step too far.
Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife!Reader, Possible Biker!Steve Rogers x Reader
Characters: Bucky Barnes
Warnings: biker au, heavy angst, unrequited love, bad parenting/absent father/awful father, favoring a child (that’s not his), angry reader, mentions of divorce/cheating, Lydia being the devil’s spawn, a hint of fluff
Catch up here: Devil’s spawn (1)
“I should’ve killed him,“ Bucky grunts on your way back to Steve’s home. “How can he abandon his wife and Bug over that vile child? I could see it in her eyes; she’s evil.”
“I never thought I’d ever say this about a kid, but you’re right, Buck,” Steve slams his hands onto the steering wheel. “I cried looking at Bug for the first time, and he just abandoned this sweet, little girl.”
“Can I,” you sniffle and wipe a few tears off your cheeks, “meet my lawyer at your place? I don’t want to be seen at his office. One of his associates is a friend of Tony.”
“Any ally of yours is welcome at my house, Y/N. Don’t you worry about a thing.” Steve would have loved to punch Tony’s face. “You and Bug can stay at my house as long as you want to. There’s no rush. I know you need to sort out a lot of things first.”
“Matt will come tomorrow,” you say, but your mind is miles away. If not for your daughter, you’d regret ever meeting Tony.
Y/D/N is the only good thing coming out of your marriage with Tony. She’s the first thing he ever gifted to you that mattered. Not flowers or jewelry—only your daughter.
After a night of passionate lovemaking and no protection, you found yourself pregnant with Bug.
“I wish we didn’t have that fight back then,” Steve says more to himself than you. “You ran off and bumped into that asshole.”
“Steve,” Bucky hisses, giving his friend an angry look. “If she never met Stark, Bug wouldn’t be here.”
“Shit…fuck,” Steve curses himself for hurting you. “I didn’t mean it that way, doll. You know I love Bug. She’s our ray of sunshine.”
“She loves you too,” you reply with a smile. “Sometimes I feel she’s more like you than Tony.” You laugh, but Steve’s heart flutters for a moment. He often wished he had given you Bug, not your husband.
“We all love our Bug and will bring despair over Stark,” Bucky states without hesitation. “Remember my words. I’ll punch the stupidity out of him.”
“I think he showed his true colors since Lydia moved in with us. If he loved me and Bug as much as he pretended in the past, he would have never done anything like that to us. That kid is a stranger to him. He hasn’t heard of Brooke in over twelve years; still, he threw away our marriage and our beloved child for her.”
“I should do something.” Steve angrily replies. He heard the hurt in your voice and felt helpless because he couldn’t do a thing about it. If he attacks Tony, it will lower your chances of getting sole custody of Bug. Surrounding yourself with violent people would make you look like a bad mom.
“You already did so much within only a few hours.” You place your hand on his thigh and squeeze it. “You let me move in, helped me get all of my things, and called our friends for help.”
Steve isn’t convinced that he did all in his power to help you. Maybe he’ll find more ways to help you tomorrow. For now, he needs to help you and Bug settle in.
“…and then, the mysterious and handsome hero walked into the bookshop and found them!” Bucky ends his story, making your daughter squeal and cry happy tears.
He called a friend on your way back to Steve’s house, the owner of an antiquarian bookshop, and asked him to find every book your daughter lost through Lydia’s hands.
Bucky also asked if there was a chance to restore the irreplaceable ones. Especially the books your mother gifted to Y/D/N.
“I will bring the books he couldn’t find to him tomorrow. Hopefully, he can restore them. He will do his very best.” Your daughter looks at Bucky like he told her magic is real.
After playtime with Chester and helping Steve prepare dessert for everyone, she’s now seated next to Bucky to listen to him tell her about her books.
“You are the best, Uncle Bucky!” She grins from ear to ear. “And Uncle Stevie because he said Chester can sleep in my room! He gave me a new book too.”
“She only loves my dog,” Steve whispers, but hopes Bug likes him a little more than Bucky. Even if he loves his friend like a brother.
“I like you a lot, Uncle Stevie!” Y/D/N gasps. She grabs his right hand and squeezes it. “You are my favorite uncle. You give the best hugs, and you have Chester and your bike, and I like your hair!”
“Whoa, slow down, young lady.” You tickle her sides. “No flirting with men until you are thirty!”
While your daughter giggles at your comment, you feel your heart saddened. If only Tony could see what he lost. Though, you’re not sure if he cares about his daughter at all after everything happening lately.
“I’m one call away,” Bucky says as Steve tries to shove him out of the door. You already said your goodbyes and carried your daughter into her, for now, new bedroom—one of Steve’s guestrooms. “If he turns up here for trouble, we will rip him a new one.”
“Buck, I don’t think this will be necessary. I think he gives a shit on Y/N and Bug. I know this is crazy, but he didn’t look like himself around that girl.”
Bucky frowns at Steve’s words, “Maybe this is a case of body snatchers. You know, Stark fell asleep and woke as a different person one day.”
Natasha snorts, Clint grins, and Thor chuckles. Steve doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t find it funny. Nothing about the situation is funny.
“Sorry, that was…stupid of me to say,” Bucky back paddles, seeing Steve’s expression. “I tried to find a way to explain his change of heart.”
“I know. We all try to fathom how he could so easily abandon his child and wife.” Steve’s features soften, remembering how Bug clung to him before bedtime. “We will support Y/N. Nothing else matters.”
“Mommy!” Bug screams in her sleep. Steve is quick to run into the room, watching you wrap your daughter in a hug. “Why does Daddy hate me?” She cries as you slowly rock her in your arms.
“No, baby,” you coo to calm her. There’s not much you can do. You cannot tell a six-year-old that her father lost his mind. “He’s just… I don’t know, Bug.”
“No one could ever hate our Bug.” Steve can’t stop himself from walking into the room to kneel next to the bed. “Okay. Your dad is being an idiot at the moment, but he doesn’t hate you.”
You give Steve a cracked smile, wishing it was true… but you know it isn’t…
#Devil’s spawn (2)#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#biker au#Steve rogers x you#Steve rogers x y/N#x reader#tw: mentions of divorce
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quick update: I finally have a few free days starting from tomorrow (out of work but not totally free if you know what I mean) but I’m hoping I’ll be able to work on my stories and give you updates soon!! Can’t promise anything but I’ll try my best because I know y’all have been starving 🥹 I also wrote a mini scenario and wanted to post it like 2 days ago, but I need to make sure it makes at least a little sense and it’s not completely random (lol) + I’ll be posting the last final teaser for mh58 on my kofi account
you can still request mini scenarios under my latest post about it (mini scenario please 🥲 a bunch of you have suggested ideas worth a oneshot or my kind of drabble hehehe)
thank you for being patient 💝
#update#wasn’t really about to make a post but I miss talking to y’all 🥹#I’ll have to get through my asks to sort them out and reply to you#will open them soon (hopefully)#I really do miss you ❤️🩹
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Jealous Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Prompt: Bucky gets jealous when Torres flirts with Y/N
--
The hum of fluorescent lights cast a pale glow over the East Side briefing room of the Helicarrier hangar. Equipment cases lined the walls, gear sorted and labeled with precision, and the scent of metal, oil, and sterilized fabric filled the air. Sam stood at the table in the center, hands braced on either side of a glowing tactical map.
Y/N leaned against the edge, tying her hair back into a messy braid, a black combat vest snug over her base layer. Her movements were quick but unhurried—second nature. Bucky watched her from across the room as he adjusted the shoulder harness of his stealth suit. His fingers moved slowly, distracted. He'd already checked his gear twice.
She caught him looking and gave him a soft, secret smile. The kind of smile that said I'm okay. The corner of his mouth lifted in return, subtle but real.
“You two gonna kiss or kill something?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the map.
Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “You know which one I’d prefer.”
Y/N rolled her eyes with a half-laugh, walking over to Sam’s side as Joaquín Torres pulled up a holographic overlay from the nearby terminal.
“Guard rotations are clockwork,” Torres said, pointing. “Three-man teams sweep the corridors every twenty minutes. Entry point’s here, west stairwell. You’ll have a five-minute window to get past the security grid.”
“And once we’re inside?” Y/N asked, leaning in, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the table. Bucky’s gaze followed the motion.
“Split and sweep,” Sam said, already sliding into briefing mode. “Y/N and I take the server room. Bucky clears the vault corridor. We regroup at extraction in twenty.”
“Sounds clean,” Torres said. Then his eyes flicked to Y/N. “Wish I was going with you guys. Could use someone with your instincts on my team.”
Y/N raised a brow. “You calling me predictable or reckless?”
“Neither,” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “Just saying, if I had someone like you watching my six, I might not get shot at so much.”
Bucky’s jaw tensed.
Y/N laughed it off, casually stepping closer to Bucky without seeming to realize she’d done it. But he noticed. He always noticed. The subtle way her body leaned toward him when someone else was around. The way her hand rested on his forearm briefly, grounding both of them.
Torres was still grinning, oblivious. “You ever think about switching teams, Y/N, let me know. I could use a partner who looks that good and knows how to break a guy’s arm in two seconds.”
Bucky’s voice cut through the air. “She’s not switching anything.”
The room stilled for a second too long. Sam looked up, eyebrows raised. Torres blinked and took half a step back, holding his hands up in defense.
Y/N let out a slow breath and gave Bucky a look—half amused, half warning.
“Just saying, man. No offense,” Torres said.
Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and walked toward the lockers, snapping his gloves tighter than necessary.
Y/N followed.
When they were out of earshot, she leaned against the locker beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” she said softly.
Bucky looked down, then back at her. “Yeah. I know. Doesn’t mean it’s easy watching someone else talk to you like that.”
Y/N tilted her head. “You think I care what Torres thinks? I let you zip my vest this morning.”
His eyes flicked to her chest, then to her face, his voice lower now. “Yeah. That was the highlight of my day.”
A smile played on her lips. “I can give you another highlight, but we’ve got a mission in ten.”
“Damn timing,” Bucky murmured.
She stepped closer, hand brushing lightly against his side—right where his arm met flesh. “I’ll be careful.”
“I know.”
“I mean it,” she whispered. “I don’t want you losing your mind if someone so much as looks at me funny again.”
“Too late for that,” he muttered, then softened. “But I’ll keep it together. Just… stay close. And come back to me.”
She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, unseen from the others. “Always.”
Sam called from across the room, “Time to move out, kids. Jet’s hot and ready. Let’s go look cool and kick ass.”
Y/N turned with a wink. “Let’s go make some noise.”
Bucky watched her walk away—confident, calm, dangerous as hell. And his.
He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and followed.
No one would ever get close enough to take her from him.
Not on his watch.
--
The mission had ended hours ago.
Madripoor had been chaotic—twisting alleys, cold steel corridors, fire flashing off concrete and bad choices. But they’d made it out. Banged up, bruised, a little breathless, but alive.
The quinjet hummed softly as it cut through clouds somewhere over the Atlantic. Sam had passed out three seats back, his arm thrown over his face, muttering occasionally in his sleep. Bucky sat near the front, freshly bandaged, bruised, quiet.
Y/N sat curled up across from him wearing one of his hoodies and her tactical pants, legs tucked beneath her. She’d changed out of her suit, hair loose now, damp from a quick shower at the airbase. Her eyes had been on Bucky since takeoff—not in worry, but something else. Something quieter. Deeper.
He looked tired.
Not physically—though the gash on his shoulder was proof enough the mission hadn’t gone easy—but emotionally tired. Like he’d been holding onto something all day that still hadn’t been said.
She crossed the aisle and slid into the seat beside him, saying nothing at first. Just letting the silence speak.
He glanced at her, then looked away. “You should sleep.”
“You should talk to me.”
A beat passed.
He exhaled. “You could’ve been killed today.”
“You say that like it’s not part of the job.”
His voice dropped. “It’s different when it’s you.”
Y/N turned in the seat, facing him fully. Her hand reached over, fingers brushing his knuckles—just barely. But he felt it like a jolt.
“You saved me. Again.”
“I shouldn’t have had to.” His jaw flexed. “I should’ve cleared the corner faster. Should’ve—should’ve gotten between you and that guy.”
“Bucky.”
“I saw the way he raised the gun. He wasn’t aiming at me. He wanted you. And all I could think was—”
He stopped himself. Chest rising, falling. The words stuck somewhere between his lungs and his heart.
“All I could think was, what if this is the last time I see you?” he finished, softer now. “What if I lose you before I ever get to tell you…”
Her hand moved to his jaw, thumb tracing the stubble just below his cheekbone.
“Tell me what?” she asked.
He met her eyes, blue and stormy and full of something that cracked her open inside.
“That I love you,” he said. No hesitation now. No fear. Just the truth.
Y/N’s breath hitched. She was already smiling, already blinking away tears she hadn’t realized were there. “Took you long enough.”
He huffed a soft laugh. “Guess I’m still learning how to say things before I almost lose them.”
She cupped his face, pulling him in gently, and kissed him—slow and deep. When they parted, her forehead rested against his.
“I love you too,” she whispered. “Even when you’re brooding and jealous and act like you invented angst.”
His lips curved against hers. “I did invent angst, actually. 1943. Patent pending.”
She laughed, and he held her close, letting the sound soak into his skin.
They stayed curled together for the rest of the flight, her head on his shoulder, his fingers tangled in hers. No words needed.
Outside, the storm had passed.
But inside the quinjet, something far more powerful had settled.
Peace. And love.
#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fandom#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#bucky x y/n#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan fluff#the winter soldier imagine#the winter solider x reader#the winter solider fanfiction#the winter soldier#the winter solider imagine#mcu x you#marvel mcu#mcu x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#thunderbolts
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♡ TW: ghostface, yandere, prank calls, threats, implied kidnapping, implied noncon
♡ FEM reader
It was already past midnight. And you, despite your half-mast eyes, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch, too lazy to get up.
Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you, not much to your interest, or at least not enough to keep you awake, but enough to act as white noise you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.
You were beginning to drool on your pillow, struggling with the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting, pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.
Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped some time ago, along with your phone, that suddenly, just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off, started to ring.
Startled awake, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loudly beneath you, like an alarm clock was going off. However, by the looks of the pitch-black darkness outside the window, it was visibly still the middle of the night.
You groaned then, both out of ire and a bit of relief—happy you could fall asleep again without needing to worry, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason.
Deliberating it for a small moment, you thought it might be a friend with some silly emergency and were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way—where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it. Stating under your breath that whoever it was owed you big time.
Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”
You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it—all in all, at least a whiney drunken voice belonging to a friend—but none of the sort was at the other end of the line.
“Hello,” a dark voice replied—audibly altered by a scrambler.
It startled you—enough to make your eyes open at least—still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think too much of it just yet.
“Who’s this?” you asked.
“Who’s this?” he echoed back, making your brows further scrunch.
“You’re the one calling?” you said in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID, which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.
“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine,” he offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.
And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit too late for you to be in the mood.
“I’m a little too sleepy for pranks right now—sorry. Try again tomorrow, bye,” you managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.
Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.
“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” the same voice asked through the phone, now a little whiney, though obviously playing it up.
The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking for a bit. You were awake now anyway, and you couldn't exactly deny being a little intrigued. After all, given that he was using a voice scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.
And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before getting up and brushing your teeth. And so, you ask, “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”
And it answered, “No~” still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.
“Well, my mother taught me better,” you joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up.
Not knowing exactly who was on the other end made you feel all giddy, head spinning over who it might be, whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night—to you, of all people.
“Oh, come on, aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” he flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor, now keeping it close to your chest as if you were a teenager whispering naughty things to your boyfriend in the dead of night so that your parents wouldn't hear.
“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” you say slowly and coyly, rolling over onto your back before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?”
A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again, “What are you wearing?”
You paused at that, cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. Looking down at your drab pajamas, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Hm…”
Pondering for a moment, you smile.
“Sexy lingerie~” you lie through your teeth, trying hard to keep from laughing as you put on your best mock-sultry voice.
“I don’t like liars,” the man answered. “I know you’re in your jammies.”
You pouted then. “Okay, fine—you caught me.”
“Still sexy, though,” he added, making you giggle again.
“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger. You aren't stalking me, are you?” you ask in a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone, eager for his reply.
Only his answer isn't very nice. “You’re the one begging for it, whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”
Your eyes widened, skin taken by a cold rush. In the same way you'd react when spotting a mosquito on your arm, you abruptly slapped the phone and hung up.
His voice had changed, turned darker, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly sour, it left a foul taste in your mouth that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even having amused it in the first place.
But once again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time.
“Don’t hang up on me,” the same voice demanded.
And while both fed up and put off, you sighed with a huff, voice sharp, asking him, “What do you want?”
“Don't be like that. I told you already, I only want to know your name~” he said, his playful tone of voice back again—only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.
“Why do you want to know my name?” you bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone, and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.
“Well… ‘cause…” he began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed-off until he uttered the next line, only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”
You went cold, and colder than cold with a chill running sharply down your spine.
Sitting up slowly, eyes alert, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows, viewing the darkness outside.
“Oh, you look cute when you’re scared~” he continued, making you jump to your feet and stomp over to the first window, frantically drawing the curtains one after the other until none remained.
“Quit calling,” you finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.
However, seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. But this time, you let it ring, deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped.
You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.
You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up, not out of fear, but anger.
“I told you not to hang up on me!” he yelled, and you snarled in turn.
“Listen, asshole-”
“No, you listen, you stupid bitch—” he interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop out of your skull!”
You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”
“Tch—” he scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Crackling harshly through the scrambler, louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance, “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”
There was a crash of glass somewhere upstairs, and you flinched while withholding a scream.
Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door.
Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tightly in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police—while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.
You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before and the eerie staircase leading up to the earlier crash—ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart.
As you turn around again, you hear shoes coming thundering down the stairs as you take a rushed step without yet facing forward. You had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only, instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent backwards into the house again, stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince.
Your phone slipped from your hand, not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well—now utterly useless.
A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame. At the same time, there's a tall presence behind you clad in the exact same way. Screaming white mask and all.
“Silly bitch,” the one in front said nonchalantly, stepping inside—shoulders broad and boots heavy.
The one behind laughed, bringing forth a large knife that made your life flash vividly before your very eyes.
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”
♡ BNHA – Kiri-Baku, Shiga-Dabi, Dabi-Hawks, Kiri-Denki, Shin-Baku ♡ JJK – Suku-Jaku, Suku-Go, Sato-Sugu, Ken-Hito ♡ HQ – KuroTsuki, KuroLev, IwaKyo, Miya twins, ♡ BLLK – NagiReo, RinSae, RyuSae
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#yandere male#reader x character#reader x various#reader x yandere
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the story we won’t tell is my greatest fantasy ⟢ LN4
PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader
SUMMARY: seven years. you and lando had been together for seven years, but it all went down the drain the moment he decided to come clean about the mistake that he did.
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WARNINGS: no use of y/n, breakup, cheating, cheater lando, pregnancy, secret child, mentions of nausea and vomiting, fainting, angst, open ending, math is not mathing (but i tried), some inaccuracies, named side characters (except for the reader), single!mom reader, and minor typographical errors
WORD COUNT: 7.2k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic is inspired by niki’s song ‘apartment we won’t share,’ ik that we have diff interpretations for the songs, but i interpret it as the way how i wrote this fic. i’m not planning on doing a second part of this, and just leave it an open ending. but if someday i get inspired, i’ll try and make a part 2 for this, though for now, there will be no part 2 for this fic. i will be leaving the ending all up to you. you comments/reblogs is highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this one.
main masterlist | fic playlist
It had been a long and exhausting week. The lingering ache from your family emergency still tugged at your heart, so to keep off your mind from things, you had spent most of the day sorting through Lando’s things, folding clothes and making sure his suitcase was ready for his flight to another race weekend. It was the kind of task you had done so many times in the last seven years, but this time, it felt heavier, like there was something wrong that you couldn’t quite place.
When Lando returned to Monaco a few days later, you expected him to be his usual vibrant self, but something was off with him. Lando’s eyes seemed heavier, his posture slouched, and smile lacked the spark that you were used to.
“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asked, voice unusually subdued.
You set down the shirt you had been folding, brows furrowing. “Sure, of course,” you replied, taking a seat on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”
Lando hesitated, hands fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie. He sat across from you, knees bouncing slightly as he stared at the floor. “You know I love you, right? More than anything.”
A faint smile crossed your lips. “I know, Lan, and you made sure to let me know everyday for seven years.”
He looked up briefly, gaze fleeting before dropping back to the floor. “I need to tell you something, I wanted to be completely honest with you…and it’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Lando’s tone, demeanor—it was all wrong, and you were getting really nervous by now. “What is it?” you asked, voice quiet, wary.
Lando took a deep breath, his hands now gripping his knees as if to ground himself. “When I was out for a night with the guys a month ago…I messed up.”
Your stomach churned. You didn’t want to interrupt him, waiting for Lando to continue, though every fiber of your being wanted to scream at him, to demand some answers.
“There was…someone at the club that night,” he said, words slow and measured, like he was forcing them out of him. “It was stupid, an honest mistake. I was so drunk, caught up in everything, and I wasn’t thinking.”
You felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “W-What are you saying?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.
Lando finally looked at you, eyes glistening. “I accidentally slept with her. It was a one-time thing, I swear, then she called me last week—I don’t even know how she got my number, but she told me that she’s pregnant.
Pregnant.
The words hit you like a freight train. You stared at him, mind completely blank, unable to process what he had just said. Tears began to blur your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away.
“Lando…” you tried to speak up, but your voice cracked.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, voice shaking. “I didn’t know what to do. All I could think about was how much I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let my kid grow up without a family. I know how much family means to you, to me. I have to be there for them.”
Your heart shattered into pieces. You could see how much Lando was struggling, the guilt etched into every line of his face. But the pain of his betrayal was unbearable.
“I don’t…I don’t have anything to say anymore, honestly,” you said finally, voice trembling. “Because you had already made your decision—you’re choosing them.”
Lando shook his head vehemently. “No! No, I’m not choosing anyone over you. You’re the love of my life. That hasn’t changed and never will.”
“Lando, you can’t have both,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t stay here knowing all of these. I can’t be a part of this.”
He reached out as if to touch you, but you recoiled. You couldn’t bear his touch right now. “Please love,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”
“You already have,” you said softly, standing up and wiping your tears. “I won’t hold you back, Lando. You need to do what’s right for your child. They deserve a family, and I will not be the reason why they don’t have one.”
You walked to your shared bedroom, your movements mechanical as you began packing your things. Every item you placed in your suitcase felt like a dagger to your chest. This apartment had been your home, your safe haven, and now it was just a place you needed to escape from. Lando just stood in the doorway, watching you pack all of your things, his face pale and tear-streaked. He didn’t try to stop you—he knew that he couldn’t.
When you zipped up your suitcase and grabbed your bag, you turned to him one last time. “Take care of both of them,” you said, voice barely audible. “Be the father they need.
With that, you walked out of the apartment, out of the life you and Lando had built together. You had loved him for seven years, trusted him with every piece of your heart. But now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been.
The crisp night air bit at your skin as you stood by the entrance of the apartment building, clutching the handle of your suitcase. Your ride to the airport was just a few minutes away, but the wait felt eternal. You stared blankly at the sidewalk, mind is a chaotic mess, the weight of everything that had happened tonight pressing heavily on your chest.
You heard familiar voices approaching before you saw them, their cheerful tones instantly recognizable. Quickly, you wiped at your cheeks, hoping your red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t give you away. Plastering on a smile, you turned towards Max and Kelly as they walked towards the entrance, hand in hand, their expressions bright despite the late hour.
“Hey! What are you doing out here so late?” Kelly asked, brows knitting in concern as she noticed the two large suitcases beside you.
You hesitated, forcing your smile to stay in place. “I, uh, have a family emergency,” you lied smoothly, voice steady even though your heart was pounding. “I need to head back home for a bit.”
Max tilted his head slightly, sharp blue eyes scanning you with the protective gaze you had come to know so well over the years. “Two large suitcases for just a quick trip? That seems a bit much,” he remarked lightly, though his tone carried a hint of suspicion.
You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s just…really complicated right now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, so I packed extra, just in case.”
Kelly’s hand tightened on Max’s arm as she stepped closer to you, her concern evident. “Is Lando not home right now? Why didn’t you tell us earlier? We could’ve helped you pack, we can drive you to the airport.”
You shook your head quickly. “Lan’s already sleeping and I hate to wake him up, he just recently got back from his trip. I also didn’t want to bother you, I’ve already called a car, and it should be here any minute.”
They exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced but respectful enough not to press you further. “Well, we’re not leaving you out here alone,” Max said firmly. “We’ll wait with you until your ride gets here.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the determined set of his jaw told you it would all be just pointless. Instead, you nodded, grateful for their presence even as it made it harder to hold yourself together.
Kelly gave you a warm smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s late, but P was asking about you earlier,” she said softly. “She’s been begging to have another day with her favorite Auntie.”
Your heart clenched at the mention of Penelope, and you forced your smile to widen. “I’ll miss her so much,” you said, voice thick despite your best efforts. “Tell her I’ll see her soon.”
Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, but before she could say anything, your ride had pulled up to the curb. Relief and dread washed over you in equal measure. Max then stepped forward immediately, grabbing your suitcases with ease.
“I’ll load these up for you,” he said, tone gruff but kind.
“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as he placed your suitcases in the trunk of the car.
When Max turned back, Kelly pulled you into a tight hug, her familiar perfume bringing a rush of bittersweet comfort. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered. “Whatever’s going on, we’re here for you.”
You nodded against her shoulder, your throat too tight to respond. When she pulled away, Max had stepped forward, wrapping you in a hug that was strong and protective, just like he always was.
“Be back soon, okay? P will be missing her favorite Aunt.” he said, chuckling. “If you need anything, you call me or Kelly. No excuses.”
“I will,” you promised, though you knew that you wouldn’t.
As you stepped back, Kelly offered you a gentle smile. “When you get back, P will be so excited to see you again. You know how much she loves spending time with you.”
The lump in your throat grew, and you could only nod in response. You managed a faint smile as you climbed into the car, giving them one final wave.
“Safe travels,” Kelly called out as Max closed the door for you.
You watched them through the window, standing together on the curb, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. They waved as the car pulled away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wave back again. Instead, you turned your gaze forward, the city lights blurring through the tears that silently slid down your cheeks.
You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.
When you finally arrived back home, the weight of the long hour of flight clung to you like a heavy fog. You dragged your suitcases through the familiar front door, exhaustion etched into every inch of your body. The warm, welcoming scent of your childhood home did little to comfort you, instead, it only amplified the ache in your chest. All you wanted was to collapse into your bed and wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened—a world where your heart wasn’t shattered into pieces. But this was your reality, as cruel as it was.
You definitely hadn’t anticipated seeing your older sister, Noelle, and her husband, Mike, in the living room, seated across from your mother, their laughter filling the space. The sound abruptly stopped when they noticed you standing in the doorway, your pale face and tired eyes a huge giveaway of the turmoil you tried so desperately to hide.
“What are you doing here?” Noelle asked, rising from her seatc brows knitting together in concern. “You didn’t tell us that you were coming home.”
Noelle’s brows knit together as she took in your disheveled appearance, her sharp eyes catching every detail—dark circles under your eyes, stiffness in your movements, and the forced smile you mustered.
“Yeah,” you replied quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I, uh, needed to come home for a bit.”
Your mother rose from her seat as well, concern etched into her features. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, gaze darting between you and the suitcases you had left by the door.
You hesitated, throat tightening. You had been dreading this moment, knowing full well how much your family adored Lando so much. They had welcomed him with open arms from the start, treating him as one of their own. Now, you were about to break their hearts almost as much as he had broken yours.
“It’s nothing,” you said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I just needed a change of scenery, that’s all.”
Noelle stood, arms crossed as she gave you a pointed look. “Don’t give me that kind of excuse. You don’t just show up unannounced looking like this for no reason. What really happened?”
You swallowed hard, avoiding Noelle’s gaze. “Lando and I broke up,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
The whole room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Your mother’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Oh, my darling sweetheart,” she breathed.
Noelle, however, was not so subdued. “What?” she exclaimed, voice rising. “What do you mean you broke up? What happened? Did he do something stupid?”
“No!” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?” she pressed, tone sharp.
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “We just…fell out of love. The both of us,” you said, hating the words even as you said then. “We’ve been together for so long, and I guess we just realized that we weren’t the same people years ago anymore. It didn’t make sense to keep on pretending, we’ll just end up hurting ourselves in the long run.”
Noelle’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. “That doesn’t sound like Lando at all. The man adores you so much, even worships the ground you walk on.”
“He did,” you said softly, chest tightening. “And I adored him too. But people change, feelings change.”
Your mother stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” she asked gently.
You nodded, the lump in your throat growing. “It’s for the best,” you lied, voice cracking slightly.
Mike, who had been silent until now, placed a hand on Noelle’s shoulder. “If this is what she’s decided, we should respect it,” he said quietly, giving you a small, understanding nod.
Noelle just sighed, clearly torn between pressing you for further information and letting it go. Finally, she relented, though her expression was still skeptical.
“I just don’t want you to regret this,” she said, voice more softer now. “You two were so good together.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from breaking down. “I’ll be okay, eventually,” you said, words hollow.
Your mother pulled you into a tight embrace, her warmth briefly soothing the ache in your chest. “Whatever happens, we’re always here for you,” she murmured.
“Thanks, mommy,” you whispered, blinking back tears.
As you pulled away, your sister gave you a long look, her expression unreadable. “If he hurt you—” she started, but you cut her off.
“He didn’t,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the storm inside you. “It just didn’t work out. That’s all.”
Noelle still didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, clearly sensing that there’s more to it, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay? We’re all here.”
You gave her a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes like it used to. “Thank you,” you said, words barely audible.
Excusing yourself, you retreated to your old bedroom, closing the door behind you gently and sinking onto the comfort of your bed. The familiar surroundings brought no comfort, only a stark reminder of the life you had left behind. While you lay down, staring at the ceiling, the tears finally came, silent and unrelenting.
You had still protected Lando from your family’s anger, even though he did not deserve any of it, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone.
The Nausea hits you like clockwork every morning. You found yourself rushing to the bathroom, stomach twisting in protest against seemingly nothing. It had started a few weeks ago, and though you had initially dismissed it as a lingering flu or perhaps the stress with work finally catching up to you, it was becoming harder to ignore. Rest didn’t seem to help you, but you assured yourself that it wasn’t that serious. Besides, you have work to focus on, and that was enough to keep your mind occupied, most of the time.
Two months had already passed since you had left Monaco for good, and life had begun to settle into a new rhythm. Yes, the ache in your chest was still there, but it had been dulled into something manageable. You were slowly rebuilding yourself, piece by piece, though the nausea was an unwelcome distraction.
It was a normal afternoon, while you were curled up on the beanbag chair in your bedroom after a long and tiring day, your phone buzzed. The caller ID that was displayed on the screen made your breath catch for a moment—Kelly. You hesitated before answering, already bracing yourself for the conversation. Her face appeared on the screen, bright and concerned.
“Finally, I caught you!” she said with a smile, though her tone was tinged with worry. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
You shook your head, chuckling and offered her a small smile. “I’m so sorry, Kelly. Things have been so busy with me lately.”
Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly as she studied your face. “You look tired. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, it’s just a silly flu,” you said quickly, but the faint edge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.
“Don’t lie to me,” she said gently. “Max and I found out about it already, about you and Lando.”
Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “Oh.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, expression softening. “We would’ve been there for you. You’ve been through this all alone.”
You sighed, your shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want to drag anyone else into the mess, and I didn’t even know what to say.”
Kelly’s voice grew firmer. “You didn’t have to say anything, we would’ve understood. Max is furious with Lando, you know. So is Carlos. I even have to break the two of them away from Lando.”
Your heart sank at the thought. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s not worth it.”
Kelly shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. “It is worth it. What Lando did to you was unforgivable. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
“It’s okay,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow. “I’ll move on, eventually.”
Kelly’s expression softened again, and she leaned closer to the camera. “I just wish you’d let us help you. You know we love you, right? You’ve always been family to us.”
“I know,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes.
Her face brightened slightly. “But speaking of family, someone’s been dying to talk to you!”
Before you could respond, the screen shifted, and Penelope’s little face appeared, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “AUNTIE!” she exclaimed, voice high with excitement.
”Hi, P!” You said, heart aching at the sight of her.
“I miss you so much!” she said, pouting slightly. “When are you coming back? Mommy says you’re not in Monaco anymore.”
You hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “I miss you too, darling. I just…I had to be somewhere else for a while.”
“But you’ll come back, right?” she asked, her big eyes staring at you expectantly.
You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “We’ll see, P. For now, you have to be good for your mommy and Maxie, okay?”
“I’m always good!” she declared, puffing out her chest.
Kelly’s voice chimed in from the background. “That’s debatable,” she teased, earning a giggle from Penelope.
You couldn’t help but smile, even as your chest tightened. “You’re the best, P. Don’t ever forget that.”
“Okay!” she said brightly before turning to Kelly. “Mommy, can we call Auntie again tomorrow?”
Kelly returned to the screen, giving you a knowing look. “We’ll let her rest for now, P. But yes, we’ll call Auntie again soon.”
“Promise?” Penelope asked, her eyes wide.
“Promise,” Kelly said, smiling before turning back to you. “Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything, anything, just call me.”
You nodded. “Thank you so much, Kelly. I will.”
After ending your facetime call with Kelly, you stumbled into the bathroom, your stomach churning violently. The moment you stepped inside, you collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving uncontrollably. It felt as though your insides were twisting, every muscle tensing in protest. When it finally subsided, you shakily wiped your mouth, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked pale—paler than usual, and eyes were bloodshot from the strain.
It took you a couple of minutes to compose yourself before heading to the kitchen, hoping the water would help settle your spinning head. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, you poured the water, but as you lifted it to your lips, another wave of dizziness hit you. This time, it was stronger. Your grip faltered, and the glass slipped from your hand, shattering loudly as it hit the floor.
The sharp noise brought Noelle and Mike running into the kitchen. They froze when they saw you swaying on your feet, barely managing to stay upright. You blinked, trying to focus, but everything around you was growing hazier. Before you could say anything, your legs gave way beneath you, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision blackening as you began to lose consciousness. Noelle was by your side in an instant, her hands gentle but urgent as she checked your pulse.
“Don’t worry, she’s alive,” Noelle muttered, voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Mike, call an ambulance now!”
Mike didn’t hesitate, rushing to grab his phone and calling for help. You could hear Mike’s voice in the background, muffled and frantic as he spoke to the operator.
“Yes, we need an ambulance,” Mike said, tone clipped, almost too calm for the situation. “My sister-in-law collapsed, and we need help immediately.”
Noelle’s voice cut through your haze, trying to keep you steady. “Come on, stay with me, okay? Just hold on.”
You couldn’t respond, couldn’t even make a sound, but you could hear them both, voices blending with the rush of adrenaline in the air. Mike’s footsteps moved swiftly, his voice growing more distant as he spoke with the ambulance on the phone.
The minutes that followed felt like hours. The sound of the ambulance siren grew louder, and relief flooded Noelle’s face as the paramedics rushed into the house. They quickly assessed the situation, asking Noelle questions about your symptoms and recent health conditions.
“She’s been experiencing dizziness for weeks now,” Noelle explained. “She’s stubborn, didn’t want to see a doctor. This morning she was nauseous, and now she’s fainted.”
The paramedics nodded, lifting you onto the stretcher carefully. Noelle and Mike followed closely as they carried you out to the ambulance. “I’m coming with her to the hospital,” Noelle said firmly, climbing into the back of the ambulance without hesitation.
Mike stayed behind, watching the ambulance doors close with a worried expression. “Alright, I’ll be informing your mother when she arrives, but call me as soon as you know something,” he said to Noelle before they drove off.
Inside the ambulance, Noelle held your hand tightly, her fingers trembling against your own. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, though her voice was thick with concern. “Just breathe, okay? We’re almost there.”
You couldn’t focus on what Noelle was saying. The world had gone dark around you, only the pulse of your own heartbeat reminding you that you were still there, still fighting to stay conscious.
The steady beeping of the machines was the first thing you registered as you slowly opened your eyes, the sterile smell of the hospital room making everything feel surreal. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent light, your gaze landed on your sister, Noelle, sitting in one of the chairs beside your bed, her expression a mixture of worry and relief when she noticed you stirring.
“Noelle,” you croaked, voice hoarse from sleep and dryness.
She shot up almost instantly, coming to your side and helping you adjust into a sitting position in the hospital bed. Her hands were gentle but firm as she propped a pillow behind your back.
“Hey, take it easy, okay?” she said softly. She reached for a bottle of water on the bedside table, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “Here, drink up. Small sips.”
You followed her instructions, taking slow, careful sips, the cool water soothing your parched throat. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” you asked weakly, mind still foggy.
“You fainted in the kitchen,” Noelle explained, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You scared the hell out of us. Mike called the ambulance, and I came with you here. Mom and Mike are both on their way. They’ll be here soon.”
Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door, a doctor entered, her expression professional but kind. Noelle immediately stepped aside, letting her approach you.
“I’m glad that you’re awake now, my dear,” she began, smiling at you. “We’ve run some tests to determine the cause of your fainting and other symptoms.”
You nodded slowly, stomach churning with apprehension. Noelle moved closer to your side, her presence grounding you.
“We’ve reviewed your results,” she continued, glancing at her clipboard before meeting your eyes. “The dizziness, nausea, and vomiting you’ve been experiencing for the past weeks are all consistent with early pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations, you’re seven weeks pregnant!”
Pregnant. Pregnant.
For a moment, the words did not register. The hospital room seemed to grow impossibly still, the doctor’s voice fading into the background as you processed the news. Seven weeks. The timeline clicked into place, and your heart sank as realization hit. Seven weeks pregnant. You could hear the faint ringing in your ears, a sharp contrast to the quiet gasp from Noelle beside you.
“I…I’m sorry, what?” you managed to stammer, voice shaking.
“You’re pregnant, dear,” the doctor repeated gently. “Seven weeks along. Your vitals look good, but it’s important to start prenatal care as soon as possible. We’ve referred you to an OB-GYN who will guide you through the process and answer any questions you might have.”
You nodded numbly, unable to form any coherent response. The doctor continued to explain what you should expect in the coming weeks—dietary recommendations, plenty of rest, and the importance of regular check-ups. But her words felt very distant, as if you were hearing them through a fog.
When the doctor finally left, you were left staring blankly at the sterile white wall, the weight of the revelation crushing you. Seven weeks. You did the math in your head, mind racing. By now, you know that the woman Lando had gotten pregnant would be around three months into pregnancy.
Tears began to well up in your eyes, the enormity of the situation was starting to overwhelm you. You were carrying Lando’s child. That man had broken and shattered your heart into pieces, and who had chosen someone else, was now bound to you in a way that you could not escape.
“Noelle,” you whispered, voice breaking.
She knelt beside the bed, taking your trembling hands in hers. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here, okay?” she said softly, her tone steady and reassuring.
“I don’t know what to do,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. How am I supposed to handle this?”
Noelle’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, eyes full of concern. “I don’t have all the answers,” she admitted, “but you don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be here for you—Mom and Mike, too. We’ll all figure this out together, okay?”
Two years had already passed, and your life was a world away from where it had been. Astrid, your little ray of sunshine, was turning two today. She was the center of your universe, your whole life, her giggles filling every corner of the house you had worked so hard to call your own. It was a beautiful home, just three doors away from your mother’s home, ensuring that Astrid was always surrounded by the love and warmth of your family.
Noelle and Mike, ever the doting aunt and uncle, spoiled her endlessly. They brought over toys, books, and clothes—sometimes more than you thought Astrid needed, but you couldn’t deny the happiness on Astrid’s face when they arrived with surprise in hand.
It’s true that your pregnancy and the early days of motherhood had not been easy, but you were able to survive. More than that, you thrived. With a promotion to a top position at work and a comfortable life for you and Astrid, you finally felt at peace. The past—Lando, was no longer a wound, but now a distant memory you had learned to accept. Your family also had long stopped asking questions about the details of your breakup, and while they knew Lando was Astrid’s father, they never dwelled on it. Astrid had all the love she needed, and that was what mattered most.
But there was one part of your life you had not reconciled yet—Max and Kelly. Despite keeping in touch with Kelly through regular facetime calls, you had managed to keep Astrid a secret. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, it was just too complicated to explain everything. It was already enough that they found out what Lando had done that caused your breakup.
However, when Kelly had mentioned that they would be spending their vacation in your home country and would be arriving the day before Astrid’s second birthday, you had a window of opportunity. It was time to take a step forward. So you had invited them to what you described as a simple gathering at your home. You didn’t explicitly tell them that it would be Astrid’s birthday party—just that it would be a chance to catch up and spend time together.
As the day drew closer, you found yourself torn between excitement and anxiety. What would they say when they realized the gathering that you had talked about was actually a celebration for your daughter? Would they feel hurt that you had kept Astrid a secret for so long?
These thoughts lingered as you finalized the decorations, baked Astrid’s favorite cake, and prepared the house for your guests. But when you looked at Astrid, happily playing with her toys in the living room, the doubt began to fade. This was your life now—a life filled with love and laughter, even if it was different from what you had once imagined.
The backyard was a colorful dream, adorned with streamers, balloons, and a banner that read, Happy 2nd Birthday! and Astrid’s favorite colors painted every corner of the space, and the laughter of children filled the air as they played games and ran around laughing. Astrid herself was the picture of happiness, twirling in her pretty dress, a bright smile on her face as she clung to her grandmother’s hand.
You excused yourself from the backyard, your hands brushing against your dress nervously as you stepped back into the kitchen to double-check the desserts. Rows of cupcakes sat neatly on the counter, each one topped with swirls of frosting and sprinkles. You picked one up, turning it slightly to make sure everything was perfect. Then the doorbell rang.
Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of nerves rushing through you. It had to be Max, Kelly, and Penelope. You wiped your hands on a towel, took a deep breath, and walked to the front door, steadying yourself before opening it. The moment you opened the door, cheerful shouts of ‘surprise!’ had greeted you. Kelly was the first to throw her arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug.
“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, stepping back as Max swooped in for a hug.
“You’ve been hiding!” Max teased lightly, squeezing your shoulder before stepping aside to let Penelope in.
“Hi Auntie!” Penelope chirped, small arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she hugged you with all her might.
You bent down to her level, pulling her into a proper hug. “Hi, darling. I missed you so much!”
Penelope pulled back, her face beaming. “I missed you too, Auntie! Can I see your house?”
Before you could respond, the sound of children’s laughter drifted in from the backyard, catching their attention. Kelly tilted her head curiously.
“What’s going on back there?” she asked, brows furrowed. “That sounds like a lot of kids.”
Max glanced at you, an eyebrow raised. “Is this the simple gathering you mentioned?”
A nervous smile tugged at your lips as you stepped back, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on, follow me.”
You led them through the hallway and out through the glass doors that lead to the backyard, where the yard was buzzing with activity. Children were playing games, some of them are having the time of their life on the bouncy castle, parents chatted near the tables of food, and Astrid was in the middle of it all, her laughter carrying above the noise.
Penelope gasped in delight. “Can I please go play?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she looked up at Max and Kelly.
Kelly nodded with a smile. “Of course, go ahead.”
Penelope dashed off, her excitement blending seamlessly with the other children. Kelly and Max, however, stood frozen, their eyes scanning the scene. It wasn’t long before they realized that this was not just any gathering.
“Is this…” Kelly began, voice trailing off.
“A birthday party?” Max finished for her, tone laced with confusion.
You nodded slowly, your smile nervous. “Yes. Actually,” you glanced at Astrid, who was now in your mother’s arms, laughing as your mother tickled her sides. “It’s her birthday party.”
Their confusion deepened as they followed your gaze. Max opened his mouth to speak, but Kelly beat him to it. “Her?” she asked, voice soft, almost uncertain.
Taking a deep breath, you walked over to your mother and gently took Astrid from her arms. Astrid immediately snuggled into your shoulder, her tiny hands clutching at your dress as she peeked at the newcomers. Turning back to Max and Kelly, you smiled, though your heart was racing.
“Guys, this is Astrid,” you said softly. “My daughter.”
For a moment, there was only silence as Max and Kelly processed your words. Kelly’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, while Max stared at you, his expression a mix of shock and something deeper.
“You have a daughter?” Kelly finally asked, voice trembling slightly.
You nodded, holding Astrid a little tighter. “I do.”
Max’s voice was careful, almost cautious. “Where’s her father?”
The question hung heavy in the air, heavy and unspoken truths lingering just beneath the surface. You looked down at Astrid, avoiding Max’s gaze as you shifted your weight uncomfortably.
“He’s…not in the picture anymore,” you said quietly.
Max’s eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening. It was clear he had pieced everything together, but decided not to press further. Instead, his gaze softened as he looked at Astrid, who was now peering curiously at him. Kelly stepped forward, her initial shock melting into warmth.
“Can I hold her?” she asked gently.
You nodded, carefully handing Astrid over. Kelly cradled her as if she had been waiting for this moment forever, her face lighting up as Astrid stared at her with wide, curious eyes.
“She’s so beautiful,” Kelly murmured, voice thick with emotion.
Max crouched down slightly to Astrid’s level, his serious expression softening. “Hey there, little one,” he said, playfully covering his eyes with his hands and then revealing them. “Peekaboo!”
Astrid blinked at him, tiny lips began curling into a smile as Max covered his face with his hand again and revealed it with a loud ‘boo!’ Astrid’s laughter was immediate and infectious, filling the air and making Max grin wider.
“She likes you,” Kelly said with a laugh, glancing at Max as she bounced Astrid gently.
Max looked up, his expression a mix of amusement and something more tender. “What can I say? Kids love me.”
Penelope had run up to you with little Astrid in tow, face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, can Astrid play with me? I promise that I’ll take care of her,” she said, her little hands clasped together as she gave you the most earnest look.
You smiled, crouching down to their level. “Alright,” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair out of Astrid’s face. “But remember, she’s still very small, so be careful with her, okay?”
“I promise!” Penelope chirped. “Come on Astrid, let’s play!” she took Astrid’s hand and led her back towards the group of children.
Once they were settled, you turned to Max and Kelly, who were waiting nearby, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. You gestured towards the patio table, and the three of you moved to sit down. For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence, only broken by the distant sound of children laughing.
It was Max who spoke first. “So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “are you going to tell Lando about Astrid?”
“No.” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.
Kelly’s brows furrowed. “No?” she repeated, voice a mix of confusion and concern. “You don’t plan on telling him that he has a daughter?”
“Telling him that he has a daughter is not included in my plans,” you said quietly, glancing briefly at Astrid, who was now sitting on the grass with Penelope, giggling as they played.
Max exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “But why?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with disbelief. “Don’t you think he has the right to know?”
You looked at Max, expression calm but resolute. “He had already made his choice and I made mine,” you said softly. “By the time I found out that I was pregnant, he was already committed to building a life with someone else—for their child. I’m not that ignorant, I’ve seen the articles, Max. It’s clear as daylight that he’s happy with them, he’s being the father that the child needs.”
Max sighed. “This isn’t about the articles or public perception. It’s about Astrid. She has the right to know who her father is, and Lando has a right to know about her.”
Kelly nodded in agreement with what had Max just said. “And what happens when she grows up and starts asking questions?”
“I’ll tell Astrid,” you said. “I’ll tell her when the time is right, I’ll explain everything to her. But for now, I’m protecting her. I don’t want her to feel like she was a second thought or an obligation. I don’t want to make her feel unwanted.”
Max shook his head slightly. “It’s not fair to Astrid, or to Lando,” he said, voice low. “He deserves to know. He deserves the chance to be a part of her life.”
“And what if Lando doesn’t want to be a part of her life, Max?” you said, voice cracking slightly and gripping the edge of the table. “What if yes, I ended up telling him, and he rejected her? What if I ruin the good thing he has now, for nothing? I’m not going to be the person who will bring chaos to my daughter’s life by trying to force something that might not even work, and I most definitely won't be the one who will tear Lando’s life apart just to ease my conscience.”
Kelly reached out, placing a hand gently on yours. “I understand that you’re scared,” she said softly. “And I understand why you’ve made your choice. But you don’t have to do this alone. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you. But please, just think about it, okay?”
You nodded, though you knew that your decision was firm and wouldn’t change. “Thank you,” you said quietly, looking between Max and Kelly. “I just need you both to trust me on this one. Trust that I’m doing what’s best for Astrid.”
Max hesitated, then finally nodded. “We’ll be keeping this just between the three of us,” he said, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us.”
Kelly smiled faintly, her grip on your hand tightening briefly before she let go. “Astrid is lucky to have you as her mother,” she said, voice warm. “She’s amazing and gorgeous, you know. She’s already so full of life.”
You smiled softly at Kelly’s words. “She is,” you said. “She really is.”
Glancing back towards the yard, you watched Astrid and Penelope play together, the sound of Astrid’s uncontrollable laughter filled the air, warming your heart in a way that words could never even describe. Her happiness was infectious, an important reminder of everything good in your life despite the path it had taken to get where you are now. But as your eyes lingered on her, there was a familiar ache that settled deep in your chest.
You couldn’t deny it—Astrid’s features were very unmistakable. Her eyes, so full of wonder and innocence, were a mirror image of Lando’s. Every now and then, when she turned her head a certain way or smiled just so, it was like seeing a glimpse of Lando again. The resemblance was undeniable, and it only grew stronger as Astrid got older. It was a bittersweet reality you carried with you every day.
Yet, despite the pain that came with those reminders, you were happy. Truly, deeply happy. Astrid was surrounded by love—a love so abundant that it filled every corner of her little world. She didn’t need anything else, not when you, your whole family, and everyone who cherished her. That love was enough, it had to be enough.
Letting Lando go was not easy. It had taken every ounce of strength you had to accept that the life you once imagined with him was not meant to be. But you had done it, you had learned to let him go. You had made peace with the fact that you were not the one he chose, and the woman you would never be was the one who was not his.
Someday, you knew, the time might come when you were ready to tell Lando about Astrid, ready to introduce him to the child you both brought into this world. But that day was not today. For now, you would let him continue living the life he had chosen, with the person he had chosen. You wished him nothing but happiness, even if it wasn’t with you.
You also hoped that Lando would one day find everything he was searching for, that he would feel fulfilled and content in the life he was building. Even if it hurts, you wanted that for him, and while he was busy living that life, the daughter you both would not raise together would still be here—waiting for him, even if he didn’t know it yet.
The breakup, heartache, and the choices you made were not what you had wanted, but they were what you needed. Sometimes, it’s hard to accept the fact that love is not enough to keep two people together, and that’s okay. It didn’t make the love you once shared with Lando any less real.
But for now, everything else could wait.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris 4#ln4#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris oneshot#lando norris angst#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x female!reader#ln4 one shot#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 angst
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“Wait,” Steve propped himself on his elbow, getting into a half-lying, half-sitting up position, “you’d do that for me?”
“Yeah man,” Eddie replied. He shimmied a little bit closer to the middle of the mattress and snuggled to his pillow. His eyebrows furrowed as he yawned. “I mean, I kind of did that already, didn’t I?”
Steve just kept on looking at him, stunned. It felt so strange to be cared for; to be remembered, known. He’d never had been, not like that—with Robin, sure, but that was different. He’d never felt like that with Nancy. With anyone. He hadn’t had to try and make out someone’s silhouette in the darkness, just to read their face and decide whether they were just selfless and nice or doing something for him. Truly for him, for the sake of doing it for him. It had never been an issue, because there had never been anyone about whom he’d had to wonder things like that. It had always been an exchange of sorts in this context.
But not with Eddie.
Steve’s head started to spin.
“Honestly I can’t wait for you to see it. You know she’s not really my type, but even I can see how fucking cool this car is. It felt a little like tuning my guitar or—”
Steve didn’t even register it when he reached for Eddie’s face, his consciousness wasn’t in the room when he lowered himself down and sank even closer to the boy who’d put his heart in a wrench. He just kissed him, and when he did – momentarily, it was a complete bliss. As long as his lips were gently pressed to Eddie’s, no matter how hard his heart was beating, it felt like he would be okay after all. Nothing else was important; he was kissing Eddie. He felt warm and cared for; he was kissing Eddie.
Eddie.
Steve felt a finger hook at the rim of his shirt, he felt himself being pulled closer.
The panic came approximately three seconds later.
Their lips parted with the softest tsk, but Steve heard it several times louder. His senses were screaming at him, all alarms set off; the smell of Eddie’s shampoo lingered around his face, the sensation of chapped lips lingered against his, his fingers were tingling where they came in contact with Eddie’s slightest stubble.
It was curious how much Eddie reminded him of a cat at that moment. He was rigid, but ready to spring into action whenever, and his eyes were ridiculously big, almost fluorescent in the dim moonlight that was seeping through the trailer’s curtains. The longer Steve looked into those eyes, the more he felt like he might have fucked up. Bad.
“Should I—I should, I mean I…” He trailed off, getting a little further away from Eddie with every word. “I should, yeah, probably. Go.”
He practically jumped out of the bed, and it pained him how cold it was without Eddie close to him. He’d gotten so used to sleeping here, just sleeping, whenever Wayne was out and no uncomfortable questions would be asked, so that they both could feel a little less alone.
“I’ll take the van, we’ll exchange cars later today, alright?” Steve looked for his change of clothes in the darkness. They were, as usual, neatly stacked in his designated space at Eddie’s desk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I mean, I did, but I’m, uh. I’m…” He trailed off, his cheeks getting embarrassingly hot and pink, he supposed, even though he couldn’t see himself in the mirror.
It felt wrong to say he was sorry. He was, obviously, he just kissed Eddie out of nowhere, but it didn’t feel like a mistake. His lips were still warm. He wanted to purse them tightly to keep the memory of Eddie’s lips on his firmly in place.
“We should do it again.”
Steve froze.
“What?”
He turned back towards the bed. It was much easier to make out Eddie’s form now. He was sitting up, chewing his thumbnail, his eyes barely flickering to Steve. His hair stood out against the white-ish wall and Eddie’s gray T-shirt. The waves were quite disheveled, but still cascaded beautifully over his shoulders.
Damn, Steven.
“We should do it again. If you’re not sure, we should do it again.”
Not sure about what? Steve did not dare ask. Eddie looked so nervous, maybe even more nervous than Steve felt. Both of their breaths were coming short now, as if they’d just run a marathon.
Apprehensively, Steve sat back down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped underneath him and he swayed a bit forward.
“We should kiss. Again?” That really was what it was, right?
Eddie nodded his head quickly. Steve’s breath hitched when the smell of Eddie’s shampoo reached his nose once again.
There were very few thoughts in Steve’s head. There was just Eddie, right in front of him, chewing his nail, nodding away. Wanting to kiss him, again, having been kissed once already. Steve was confused and more than a little queasy, but his willpower wasn’t quite strong enough to get him questioning things.
“Okay,” he mumbled. Eddie finally looked at him, lowered his hand to his lap and nodded.
Some sort of nervous sound rumbled in the back of Steve’s throat. Okay. It was okay. He leaned in—and Eddie leaned in at the same time. Warm breath tickled Steve’s lips, and he stopped just before meeting Eddie half-way.
“Are you su—”
Eddie was kissing him before the sentence got out of his mouth in its entirety. Really kissing him, not just pressing their lips together, kissing him, still incredibly stiff and distanced, but kissing him. Oh, with something more than just curiosity, Steve could tell. He let out one heavy breath through his nose and felt Eddie relax right away with him. Their lips were in perfect harmony; Steve’s chest tightened. His stomach felt heavy and full and squirmy and for some reason Steve had never felt better than in this moment, even though his eyes stung and he could barely breathe.
His hands acted on their own accord, one settling on Eddie’s shoulder, the other on his cheek, keeping him close, closer, closer still.
Their lips parted. Steve felt the loss immediately.
“I’m gonna…” Eddie whispered huskily, untangling his legs from the cover and shifting his position. It was funny how one of his knees kind of hovered over Steve’s lap in silent question – it was even funnier how long it took Steve to process that.
“Yeah, feel free, please.”
What the fuck, Steven.
Eddie straddled his lap and leaned right back for another kiss, pressing their chests together. Their hearts kept thump thump thumping loudly against their chests, and Steve was kind of actively losing his mind over that. Eddie, in his gray T-shirt and stupid plaid shorts, was straddling his lap, kissing him, making him believe that he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. Was it even real? Could Steve touch him? Would it really be alright? He laid his hand on Eddie’s thigh, feeling hair and goosebumps underneath his fingers. Another conclusion from that night: Eddie was hot. Steve kissed him harder, and he reciprocated, grabbing Steve’s neck.
Steve had no idea for how long they had been kissing, until Eddie swayed dangerously close to the edge of the bed and Steve’s neck started to hurt. It wasn’t nearly enough, but that was it.
For now, hopefully.
“It’s getting late,” he mumbled against Eddie’s lips, “and you’ve got to be at the shop at 8 sharp tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said and stole one more peck. “You wanna sleep?”
Fuck me if I can, Steve thought, but nodded yes.
“But let’s talk tomorrow? Okay?”
Eddie’s hands were still cupping his cheeks. His lips seemed sleek and shiny, shinier than his eyes, even.
“We must,” he replied. They both nodded. For some reason Steve’s heart started beating even faster now.
Eddie scrambled from his lap, cleared his throat and rearranged the covers, getting back into his favourite position. Steve followed suit. The gap between them seemed enormous and immediately got filled with anxious energy.
Steve reached between them hesitantly. For a few seconds his hand just lay there, empty and suddenly very cold. Eddie’s open palm touched his. He let out a big breath.
They would figure it out. For sure. Tomorrow.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#st4#posting steddie in 2025 feels like a crime#i just wanted to make them kiss lol. there's no story for that#and write something after what felt like literal ages#if anyone reads it: i salute you
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I’ve had a thought. You believe Viktor to be Experienced, right? What would his first time have looked like? This could be a request if you wanna write a one shot. Or just like share your thoughts. I’d be intrigued to see what you come up with if you wrote it out tho 🤔
You do like to throw me curveballs (I love that, thank you). Here is some virgin!Viktor take, he's not exactly super freaky but take it as the origin of Freaktor :')
Humble as I Go
viktorxfem!reader explicit! first time, a bit awkward, a bit sweet. Both Viktor and Reader are virgins! There is no specified age for the sake of legalities, but you can imagine them both young.
word count: 3,8K
author’s note: ok, so I've seen some angry post about condemnation of virgins through HC-ing Viktor as a non-virgin, and what I'm saying here is that I disagree with his infantilization in most virgin!Viktor fics. I was a late bloomer so I am literally nobody to tell people when it's cool to start having sex, it's absolutely irrelevant to your maturity. But having him unable to add 2+2 or being completely oblivious to sex in his 30s IS ableist. For the most part, disabled people know their bodies pretty well because they have to, and I can imagine Viktor being pretty well-read as well, him being curious about life. So no, it's not a punch toward people who didn't have sex yet, it's a punch toward those who see a disabled guy and think 'let's make him pathetic.' @rennethen beta read, thank you as usual! Happy (sort of) Freakday :')
—
Viktor stares at his thighs intently, grateful for a moment to regroup. The fabric around the knees is bulging and thinned out, threads threatening to pull—if not today, then tomorrow, or the day after. It’s also slightly damp, soft beneath his fingers where he’s wiped his sweaty palms while waiting for you to come back from the bathroom.
He’s afraid to get up from where you sat him on the bed—he’d slipped in the puddle that gathered on the pavement in The Fissures on your way home, after you’d muttered that your parents were away. And your house is nice. It’s warm and cozy. It’s full of love, with plenty of things that don’t match finding a place beside one another. A wet stain from his ass on your bedsheets wouldn’t bode well for what you’re both so excited for—and frightened of—all the same.
The door creaks, and then your head peeks out. A ghost of a smile lingers on your mouth, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear—and Viktor, oh, he can’t help but smile too. He actually laughs, breathy, nervous and quiet, but welcomes the weight of you settling beside him on the edge of the bed, as if your presence alone repels every doubt.
You don’t say anything at first. Just lean into his side, shoulder brushing his, your palm resting between you. His fingers twitch beneath it. “You okay?” you ask eventually, soft.
Viktor nods once. Then again, slower. “I think so.” A beat. “My hands are sweaty.”
You smile into your knees, arms looping around them. “Mine too.”
That gets a laugh out of both of you, hushed and crackling with nerves. You untangle your limbs first and stretch one leg over the edge of the bed, your knee knocking gently into his. His trousers shift as he moves to look at you more fully, and the suspenders tug awkwardly with the motion.
“I like these,” you say, your finger sliding under one of the straps and letting it snap back lightly against his chest.
“They’re necessary,” he replies. “My trousers are too big. They used to be my father’s.”
You hum like that makes perfect sense, which it does. His whole frame still has the look of someone who hasn’t quite finished growing into himself—elbows and knees a bit too sharp, shoulders a little unsure of their breadth. You reach out and brush his hair back from his forehead, and this time he doesn’t flinch, just watches you with wide, liquid eyes.
“I keep thinking I’ll mess this up somehow,” you admit, quiet.
“You won’t,” he says quickly. “Even if we do it all wrong, it’s still with you.”
That makes your throat ache. You kiss him—small and soft, mouths barely moving, just the warmth of it. When you pull back, Viktor’s eyes are closed, but he’s smiling. Your hands drift to the buttons of his shirt, but hesitate, hovering. “May I?”
He nods. “Yes. Please.”
You undo them slowly. One, then another. His skin is pale where it’s usually hidden, collarbones delicate, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. When you glance up, his eyes are open again, fixed on your face like you’re the most intricate, important thing he’s ever seen.
His hands fumble next, trying to return the favour, but they shake a little and get caught in the hem of your sweater. You both laugh again, leaning forehead to forehead, nerves zinging in the air between you like lightning trapped in glass.
“Wait,” he says, reaching down awkwardly, and peels off his socks like they’ve betrayed him. “I don’t want to wear these for this.”
“They’re not that bad,” you say, but you’re already tugging off your own to match. “There. Even.”
The grin he gives you is crooked and overwhelmed, but he’s glowing with it. There’s no hurry, not really. Just a shared understanding that you’re moving toward something neither of you has ever done, and yet it feels inevitable in the best way.
Your hands find his suspenders and slide them down the slope of his shoulders. The tension in the elastic gives a soft snap, and he flinches, then laughs under his breath. He looks smaller without them, somehow—softer. Less held together.
His trousers sit loose on his hips now, waistband gaping far away from skin and it looks like a second Viktor could fit in them easily. When your fingers find the button, he nods, barely a breath. You undo it, and the fabric slides down, pooling around his ankles with a sigh. You both blink at the sound, then laugh again, quietly—he shrugs, self-conscious.
“See?” he mutters.
“Thank gods for those, huh?” you say, pulling at one of the suspender straps, and Viktor chuckles, air leaving his nose loudly as if he was holding it until now.
You guide him out of the trousers, then pause, eyeing the brace along his leg. “Would you like to—?”
He follows your gaze, then nods, sitting back to unbuckle the straps. “It’s easier like this,” he murmurs, focused on the clasps. “I don’t usually take it off unless I have to.”
“You don’t have to,” you say gently.
“I want to.” His voice is soft, but certain.
You watch as he undoes the last strap and lifts the brace carefully aside. Without it, his leg looks thinner, a little tense—but you only touch his knee, light and reassuring, and his shoulders drop. You lean in to kiss his cheek, and he smiles, just barely.
Then you reach for the hem of his shirt, and he lifts his arms to let you pull it off. It takes a moment to work it over his head—his hair sticks up after, and you smooth it back without thinking. He’s left in his undershirt, but the skin you can see is pale in the light, slender and unevenly freckled. When you run your palms down his arms, he inhales sharply, but doesn’t stop you.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, and he ducks his head like he doesn’t believe it, but his smile flickers small and bright.
“You’re not supposed to say that first,” he says. “I was going to say it.”
“You still can.”
He does. Quietly, but steady. “You’re beautiful.”
Then he touches your wrist, tentative, and waits. You nod.
He starts with your sweater, careful with the buttons even though his hands are shaking. You help him with the last one, and then the shirt beneath. His knuckles brush your ribs as he works the fabric off your shoulders. His gaze lingers—not just on your chest, but on all of you, awed.
His fingers trace the waistband of your trousers next, and he looks up again. “Alright?” he asks.
You hum an answer, too full to speak. The zip comes down smoothly. He tugs, slow and a little awkward, and you lift your hips so the fabric can slide off easier. When he gets them halfway down your legs, he stills for a second. Watching your thighs, your knees, your bare skin, as if it’s something rare and precious.
When he finally gets them off, you’re both just… there. Sitting in your underwear, knees bumping, hearts thudding so hard it’s almost funny. You reach for the duvet, tugging it over both of you. Not to hide—just to be close. Wrapped together in the warmth of this.
And then, when you’re ready, you reach again. Gentle. Curious.
“Hi,” you say, and smile.
“Hi,” he echoes, and his gaze never leaves yours.
The covers rest around your hips, pooling softly between you. Viktor’s knees knock against yours again, faint and accidental. Or maybe not. Your fingers graze his, and he turns his palm up, opening it for you.
“I’ve never done this before,” you admit, voice hushed. “Obviously.”
“Me neither.” He huffs a laugh, awkward and fond. “You can probably tell.”
You nudge your shoulder into his. “It’s okay. I think… I’d be scared with anyone else.”
His eyes flicker down, then back up, bright and unblinking. “You’re not scared now?”
You shake your head. “Not with you.”
He exhales like that means the world. Slowly, carefully, he brings a hand to your cheek, thumb barely brushing the skin. “Can I kiss you again?”
You nod, may times, and this kiss is different—shy at first, but it lingers, warmer, his mouth parting when yours does. His hand slides behind your neck. Yours settle over his ribs, thin beneath your palms. The duvet shifts with your closeness, and you both feel it: your bodies pressed together, clothed in breath and nerves.
It changes then—from careful lips to Viktor’s mouth opening a little more, and yours following. The world narrows to the slick, tentative press of tongues. It’s warm, unfamiliar, and clumsy in a way that makes you both stifle little laughs between kisses. His breath tastes like mint and you’re curious when he’s managed to refresh. Yours is all heat. A soft sound slips out of him when you suck gently on his lower lip, and he mirrors it, hesitant but eager.
The sounds are quiet, wet, a shared secret. A rhythm begins to build—just earnest, as if you're both learning at the same pace. His hand slides from the back of your neck to your waist, pulling you in, every touch like a plea for permission. You tip, gently, and both of you laugh as you fall sideways, mouths still pressed together.
Viktor braces himself on one elbow, looking down at you. His curls are a mess. His chest rises and falls in quick little stutters, and your fingers find the hem of his undershirt, then slip beneath. His skin is warm, smooth, and he twitches when you drag your hand along his ribs.
Your legs shift, one sliding against his. The covers slip lower. His free hand trails up your side. Hesitant, at first, but when he finds the curve of your breast and cups it, you gasp—soft and startled and entirely involuntary.
He freezes, then breathes, and you watch his throat move as he murmurs, “I like that sound.”
“Well,” you blush and swallow loudly. “I liked… that.”
His thumb brushes over your nipple through the thin fabric, and the breath that leaves you this time is closer to a moan. His eyes flick to your mouth and linger. Then, shyly, he bends to kiss you again.
You let your fingers drift lower, and wrap them around the hem of his undershirt. He breaks the kiss with a gasp, and lifts his arms in wordless permission. The fabric peels away easily, and when it's off, you pause to look—Viktor’s chest is narrow, ribs visible under pale skin. One of your hands grazes his sternum, and he makes a small, helpless sound in response.
“You’re…” you begin, but it gets lost in a breath. “Beautiful.” His ears go red, and he lowers his head, but he’s smiling.
He mirrors your movement, fingertips brushing the strap of your bra, a question in his eyes. You nod, and reach back to unhook it yourself. When it slips off, Viktor stares like he’s been handed something sacred. His hands hover before he rests one gently against your side, the other cupping you carefully. The sensation makes you shiver, and when his thumb brushes your nipple again—skin to skin this time—you bite your lip.
You tug him back in for a kiss, and while your mouths meet, you shift your hips just enough for your knickers to slide down. You shimmy them off beneath the covers, kicking them away with your toes. He notices. His eyes widen.
“You too,” you whisper, smiling, and he lets out a quiet, nervous laugh.
He pushes his briefs down with both hands, wriggling a little to get them past his hips. They’re snug, but they come off, down to his toes where they tangle, and he has to kick them off. Again, you both let out breathy laughs, pressed forehead to forehead. Now there’s nothing between you. Only skin and heat and everything unknown.
Your palm traces the curve of his shoulder, gliding down his chest, where his heart beats like a second one between you. He mirrors the path, fingers grazing your hip, then your waist, learning you in slow lines and soft breaths. And then, lower.
You hold each other’s gaze when his fingers slip down, brushing through the heat between your legs. The first touch is feather-light, but it makes you tense around the sound it nearly draws from you. His jaw clenches; he swallows, focusing, adjusting, trying again—gentler, more measured.
Your hand finds him in the same moment, wrapping around him with instinct more than knowledge. The sharp breath he lets out doesn’t sound like anything you’ve heard from him before. His hand pauses. He blinks fast, lips parted, stunned by the way your touch makes him falter.
“I—I didn’t know it would feel like that,” he says quietly, wonder bleeding into each word. Your thumb brushes over him and his hips jump. His forehead touches yours, and he whispers, "I might not last that long."
“I don’t mind,” you confess, breath caught.
You’re both still breathing each other in when Viktor shifts, propped on one elbow, looking down at you with flushed cheeks and hesitant eyes. “I… I’ve been reading,” he says, and his voice is so small you almost miss it.
You blink at him, trying not to smile. “Reading?”
He nods. “About this. About how—it might hurt. For you.”
The smile breaks through anyway, teasing, gentle. “Were there diagrams or something?”
The tips of his ears go crimson. “Maybe.”
You laugh under your breath, and it seems to give him courage. His gaze flickers across your face. “Will you let me try something?”
You nod, already breathless at the tenderness in his voice. “Yes.”
His hand glides down your belly, careful and warm, until he’s cupping you again. You’re already soft and slick, the trust between you easing the way, and when the tip of his finger begins to press inside, your body welcomes him with a gasp.
“You’re…” he murmurs, eyes wide in awe. “You’re so soft.”
His voice makes your toes curl. He moves slowly, watching your face the entire time, his brows drawing together in concentration as he slips in deeper, then adds another finger, and you arch at the stretch.
Your hand tightens instinctively around his cock—still warm and heavy in your palm—and the reaction is immediate. Viktor gasps, hips twitching toward you, and then he whimpers, “I beg you, don’t distract me.”
You giggle, trying to find your composure. “Forgive my manners,” you manage, mock-polite, but your voice cracks as his fingers curl just so. “Oh—”
His expression softens into something closer to wonder. “Is that alright?”
You nod, panting. “Yeah. Better than alright.”
“Good,” he says, with so much focus it almost makes you laugh again—if you weren’t so full of feeling. “You’re doing so well.”
“You too,” you whisper, and you mean it. Every moment is something you didn’t know you’d treasure. Every breath from him, every careful touch, feels like something precious.
Viktor’s fingers move again, slowly, curling as if he’s trying to memorise you by feel alone. Your hips twitch, and your head falls back against the pillow, lips parted. It isn’t overwhelming, not yet—but it’s building. Warming. Like a fire catching at the edges.
“I like how you feel,” he says suddenly, shyly, as though he’s admitting something shameful. “Inside. Around me.” Your throat tightens. There’s something about his voice—equal parts reverent and surprised, like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this.
“You can—keep going,” you breathe. “It feels really good.”
His lips brush the ball of your shoulder. “Tell me if it stops feeling good. Please.”
“I will.” You smile, lifting your hand to brush his fringe aside, fingers sweeping through soft hair. “You’re already being perfect.”
That makes him fluster, his fingers faltering for just a moment before resuming. He adds a tiny twist to the motion, and the sound that leaves you is unguarded. “Viktor—”
“I like that sound too,” he says, grinning, and then ducks his head to hide it against your shoulder.
You both giggle quietly, your bodies trembling with nerves and affection and something deeper that you’re only beginning to name. Then, he kisses your neck. “Can I try something else?”
You hum and nod, nearly absent and his thumb shifts to stroke you in slow, tentative circles while his fingers stay deep, coaxing the pleasure higher. You cling to his shoulders, skin hot under your palms. It feels good—careful, considered. It’s not polished or practised, but it’s full of kindness, full of him.
And when your hips roll up without thinking, chasing the rhythm, Viktor breathes a shaky “Yes,” into the hollow beneath your ear, like your response gives him permission to keep going. You feel yourself starting to tighten around him, fluttering.
“Gods,” you whisper. “You’re so good.”
“You too,” he says, kissing your cheek, breath ragged now. “You feel… you feel amazing.” His hand has you, fingers deep, careful, as his thumb circles around you slowly. You can feel yourself tipping—your legs tense, your thighs pressing closer around his palm. It's all so much: the warmth of his body against yours, the way he keeps watching your face like he’s afraid to miss even a flicker of feeling.
Your breath catches. “Viktor—”
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “Let go if you want to.”
One permission is enough for you, and with a soft gasp, you do let go. It rolls through you slowly at first—warmth blooming outward, your muscles clenching around his fingers as your hips jerk. Your breath forms a sound that might be a moan, might be his name. He holds still inside you, except for the slow strokes of his thumb, drawing it out, waiting until your body begins to tremble and soften again. Only then does he carefully slip his hand free.
You’re blinking up at him through the haze, breathless, glowing from within. “You—”
“Did I hurt you?” His brow is furrowed. “Was that alright?”
“It was—” You laugh, dazed. “It was incredible. I think I forgot my name.”
He blushes, his chest rising and falling with shallow breath. You pull him closer, pressing your mouth to his, lazy and grateful. When your hand finds him again, he shudders violently. “You’re so hard,” you murmur against his lips.
He nods, almost sheepish. “Since the beginning.”
Your fingers close around him, and he gasps, hips twitching forward despite himself. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, panting.
“Do you want—?” you begin, but he interrupts with a desperate little sound.
“Gods, yes.” He lifts his head, eyes wide and earnest, “I really, really want to.”
You kiss him again. “Then come here.”
You watch as Viktor reaches behind him, fumbling for where his trousers lay crumpled near the edge of the bed. His hand disappears into the pocket and comes back holding a small, square packet. He blushes when he sees you looking, sheepish. “I, um… thought maybe.”
You smile. “I’m glad you did.” You help him tear it open, hands brushing. There’s a stutter in his breath as he rolls it on, careful and methodical, brows drawn in focus like he’s solving a delicate matter. His fingers tremble.
When he’s done, he looks at you—truly looks. His hair is messy from your hands, lips swollen from your kisses, his whole expression open and tender. “Are you ready?”
You nod, guiding him forward with your hands on his hips, your legs parting to welcome him in. He steadies himself on his forearms, nose brushing yours. “Tell me if I do anything wrong,” he whispers. “I’ve never—”
“You’re perfect,” you whisper back. “I want you.”
He lines himself up, the tip brushing where you're soft and slick. The sensation draws a sharp breath from both of you. And then, slowly, he begins to press inside.
It’s careful, hesitant, and overwhelming—tight and unfamiliar and so incredibly intimate. He gasps, pausing halfway with his eyes fluttering shut. “Oh—God.”
Your hands are on his back, one tracing the line of his spine. “You’re okay,” you whisper. “You’re doing so well.”
He presses the rest of the way in, shallow and shaking, his body curled over yours like he’s trying to disappear into the moment, or maybe into you. For a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just breathes, and you are grateful for this time to adjust. You feel the warmth of his chest against yours, his heart racing in time with your own.
“It’s—” he starts, then breaks off with a soft, overwhelmed laugh. “You are so good.” You cup his face, unable to say anything. When he finally starts to move, it’s slow and stuttering. He’s trying so hard to hold on, eyes glazed, mouth parted. You kiss his cheek, his jaw, his temple—anchoring him.
“I certainly won’t last,” he confesses, voice breaking. “You feel so—”
“It’s okay.” Your hand slides to the nape of his neck, thumb brushing his hair. “I don’t mind.”
His hips rock a little faster, the rhythm unsteady but full of feeling. Each thrust draws a soft whimper from him, a breathy moan from you. He buries his face against your shoulder, breath heavy. When he comes, it’s with a quiet gasp, his whole body tensing and then melting against you. He clings, arms tight around you like he’s afraid to let go.
You lie there, tangled together in the hush that follows. Eventually, he lifts his head, eyes searching yours. “Did I…?”
You smile and kiss him. “You were wonderful.”
He exhales, dazed and a little teary. “You make me feel like I could do anything.”
“You can,” you say suddenly all serious and Viktor blushes differently this time. His face blushes and his ears, but you are certain his heart does too. He rolls of you, limbs lose and boneless, and pulls you close, arms wrapping snugly around your shoulders until there is space big enough only for you to breathe each other in. Legs tangled and fingers twisted in another’s hair you lay sunken in the sheets. The room quiets around you, and neither of you knows if this was so big only because you don’t know any bigger—but you choose to take it as it is: humbling.
#my writing#viktor arcane#viktor fanfic#viktor x reader#viktor x reader smut#viktor smut#viktor x gn!reader#viktor x oc#arcane#arcane fanfic#ao3#ao3 fanfic#viktor nation#requests
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Can I request the Twst first years with an S/O who wears glasses? And one day while they're out her glasses fall and break so she asks the guy to be her "seeing-eye boyfriend" until she can get her replacement pair?
FIRST YEARS X READER
Where your glasses break
How would first years react if your glasses broke and you asked them to be your "seeing-eye boyfriend"?
The fall was almost cinematic—one second you're both walking through the courtyard with milkshakes in hand, and the next, your glasses clatter to the stone path with a crisp snap that silences your breath.
Ace blinks down at the broken frames.
“...Well. That sucks.”
Very helpful commentary.
You groan, squinting at the blurry world around you. Everything’s turned into a watercolor painting, pretty, but useless. You reach for your bag, already fumbling for a cleaning cloth or something that might do the impossible and fix them.
Ace crouches down beside you, holding up the broken arm of your glasses like a forensic detective.
“Yeah, no saving these. They're totally toast,” he says and grins.
“Guess you’re stuck with me now.”
You blink. “Huh?”
“Your seeing-eye boyfriend. Come on,” he says, puffing his chest.
“I volunteer as tribute.”
“You? You’d lead me into Crowley's office just for fun.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d wait for an excuse,” he shoots back, clearly enjoying this way too much. Still, he steps in beside you, grabbing your hand with more confidence than usual.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be your noble guide through the treacherous lands of blurry hallways and evil staircases.”
Honestly? It’s kind of adorable.
Except…
“Ace,” you hiss as you walk face-first into a hedge, “that was definitely a bush.”
“Oh, oops.” He stifles a laugh. “My bad. I was looking at a crow that looked kinda like Riddle.”
You smack his arm, and he catches your hand before you can escape.
“Okay, okay, for real this time. I swear I’ll guide you”
And he does. Sort of.
Ace’s version of “guiding” includes narrating everything in dramatic tones (“A wild vending machine appears!”), making traffic beeping noises at crosswalks, and waving off student with
“Move aside! VIP coming through.”
But in between the jokes, he’s surprisingly attentive. He warns you about uneven pavement. He helps you down stairs. He gently turns you in the right direction when you start to wander. And when someone asks why he’s being so clingy, he just says:
“Can’t help it. Gotta take care of my favorite person, right?”
When your new glasses finally arrive a few days later, Ace squints at you dramatically.
“Huh. You were even cuter when you were blurry. Guess I’ll just have to date you all over again in HD.”
The moment your glasses fall, Deuce gasps like he just witnessed a crime. You tripped over a rock and fell to the ground. He scrambles to pick them up before you can even get up.
“Are you okay?! Did you hit your head? Oh no—your glasses…”
One look at the snapped arm, and he looks genuinely distressed.
“I can’t believe I didn’t catch you! If only I’d moved faster—”
“Deuce, it’s okay,” you laugh softly, reaching out to pat his shoulder.
“They’re just glasses. I’ve got a backup pair somewhere, I just need to find them later.”
“But you can’t see without them, right?” He holds the broken pair like he’s holding a wounded bird.
“Then—I’ll help. I mean, I’ll… um. Be your… your seeing-eye… boyfriend?”
The way he says it makes you smile.
“…Yeah,” you reply, slipping your hand into his. “That’d help a lot, actually.”
Deuce turns red immediately. His grip on your hand tightens just a little.
Walking with Deuce as your guide is like navigating with an overenthusiastic, overprotective golden retriever. He’s very serious about the job. He announces every step, every turn, every uneven stone like he's defusing a bomb.
“There’s a crack in the pavement coming up. And uh—three steps down. Careful. Okay, good. We’re clear.”
Sometimes you have to stop and remind him not to overthink it.
“You don’t need to call out every single pebble,” you tease.
“I just don’t want you to trip!” he insists, puffing up. “What if you fall and break something? What if I let go and you bump into a wall? What if—”
You gently squeeze his hand. “Deuce. I trust you.”
That short-circuits him for a few seconds.
“…I won’t let you down,” he says, a little softer. “I’ve got you.”
And he does.
He slows his pace to match yours. Offers his arm like a perfect gentleman. Even tries to describe the world around you so you don’t miss out.
“There’s this really pretty bird in the tree ahead—it’s blue and has this weird feather that sticks up—kinda looks like it has a cowlick…”
When you finally get your backup pair of glasses a few days later and slide them on, Deuce stares at you with wide eyes.
“You’re amazing no matter what, but seeing your eyes properly again is…” He stops himself, going bright red.
“I-I mean—you look beautiful. Always. I’m just glad I could help.”
You smile, reaching for his hand again.
“You were the best seeing-eye boyfriend I could’ve asked for.”
He beams. “Anytime.”
The second your glasses hit the ground, Jack’s ears twitch. He doesn’t even hesitate—just crouches and scoops them up, holding the broken frames in his hand like they might somehow fix themselves if he stares hard enough.
“You okay?” he asks, already checking you over for injuries like a concerned older brother. “Did they cut you or anything?”
You shake your head, though your squint makes Jack frown.
“Can’t see much now, though,” you admit, trying to hold the glasses up to judge if they’re wearable.
They’re not. One arm’s completely snapped off and the lens is scratched.
Jack stands straight, folding his arms.
“Alright. Then I’ll walk you back to Ramshackle. Or wherever else you need to go.”
You tilt your head. “You sure?”
"Of course. I can’t just leave you wandering around blind. That’d be irresponsible.”
“Then… can you be my seeing-eye boyfriend for a few days?”
His tail stops wagging. You can almost hear the reboot noise in his brain.
“I—uh. That’s… yeah. I can do that.”
True to form, Jack is efficient, steady, and very aware of his job. He walks at your pace, always slightly in front or to the side so you have an anchor. He doesn’t talk too much—just enough to say things like “step here,” “slippery patch coming up,” or “handrail’s on your left.”
At one point, you trip slightly on a slope and instinctively reach for him—and Jack immediately grabs your hand, pulling you against his side.
“You good?”
“…Yeah,” you mumble, flushed from the sudden proximity.
Jack doesn’t let go. In fact, he holds your hand the rest of the way. Quietly. Warmly. His fingers are a little calloused, but they’re gentle.
When you get your replacement glasses, Jack glances at you with this subtle but very "Jack" kind of softness.
“Glad you got them back. But… if they break again, I wouldn’t mind helping you. Just so you know.”
He turns his head to the side quickly.
“…It’s not a big deal or anything.”
But his tail is wagging again.
The crack of your glasses hitting the ground is followed by Epel’s immediate gasp of, “Whoa—shoot! You okay?!”
He’s already dropped his bag to inspect the damage like a concerned old farmhand looking over a busted tractor.
“Ahh, the frame’s toast,” he mutters. “This sucks, sugar…”
You blink through the blur. “Everything’s fuzzy.”
“You want me to… walk you back or something?”
“Actually, you’re my seeing-eye boyfriend now,” you say, holding out your hand like you expect it.
He stares at you, face going pink so fast it looks like he was just slapped by the wind.
“Y-you can’t just say stuff like that without warning!!” he sputters, but then his hand grabs yours with no hesitation.
“I mean—fine! I can do that. No big deal.”
Epel is really trying to act cool about it, but his grip is just a little tight, and his ears are red for the first ten minutes of walking.
Unlike the others, he talks a lot. But it’s cute.
“Okay, sidewalk dips here. Careful. And—hold on, lemme go first and check if this puddle’s too deep. You ever step in one’a those and get water all in your boots? It’s the worst.”
He occasionally grumbles at people for walking too close to you.
“Watch it, pal. She can’t see, alright?”
At one point, you misstep and bump your shoulder into a wall, and Epel whips around like he’s about to punch the brick.
“I should’ve warned you! Dangit—sorry, sugarplum. Here, lean on me more, I’ll walk closer.”
He does, too. He even lets you rest your hand on his arm like some kind of prince.
When your new glasses arrive and you slide them on, Epel tilts his head.
“…Yeah. Still just as pretty.”
He pretends he didn’t say that.
You don’t let him pretend.
Your glasses hit the ground. The arm snaps. The lens pops out. You sigh.
Sebek screams.
“DISASTER! UTTERLY UNACCEPTABLE! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN—?!”
You cover his mouth.
“Sebek. Please. Breathe.”
When he finally calms down enough to form words that aren’t shouting, he immediately drops to one knee to inspect the glasses like they’re some ancient relic from Briar Valley.
“This is a serious matter,” he huffs, standing tall again.
“You cannot possibly navigate this campus with impaired vision. What if you trip? What if you run into an obstacle? What if—heaven forbid—you encounter a DISGRACEFUL STUDENF who knocks into you?!”
You blink at him. “So… wanna be my seeing-eye boyfriend?”
He short-circuits for a full five seconds. You could hear the error tone.
“SEEING—BOY—WHAT? I—!” His face is rapidly changing colors, caught between panic, pride...
“W-well! If you insist! Of course it would be my DUTY to assist you!”
And assist he does.
Sebek walks exactly half a step in front of you at all times, loudly narrating your surroundings like a royal town crier.
“WE ARE APPROACHING A SET OF STAIRS. I REPEAT—A STAIRCASE. DESCENT REQUIRED.”
You try not to laugh. “Sebek, I’m right here.”
“I AM MERELY ENSURING MAXIMUM AWARENESS!”
Honestly? For all his dramatics, he’s weirdly good at this.
He even swats someone’s backpack out of your way at one point and scolds them for “failing to consider the visually disadvantaged.”
You almost feel bad when your new glasses arrive and you don them again.
Sebek blinks. “…Ah. You can see again.”
“Yep! Thanks for helping me so much.”
He nods stiffly, trying to hide how flustered he is.
“It was nothing. Merely what any exceptional man would do in such a situation!”
You step closer and kiss his cheek.
He explodes.
#twisted x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#ace trappola x reader#ace x reader#ace trappola#deuce spade x reader#deuce x reader#deuce spade#epel x reader#epel felmier x reader#epel felmier#jack x reader#jack howl x reader#jack howl#sebek x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#sebek zigvolt
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I’m begging for emt marauders where r dislocated her shoulder a stupid way and so r goes to another hospital to avoid them but then they show up bc their hospital is was on a bypass and see r
Thanks for requesting!
cw: shoulder injury no description
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 814 words
It’s dark, and despite the cloak of poor lighting and the distance between you, you lock eyes with James from across the parking lot. His brows furrow and he nearly drops the gurney he’s lowering out of his ambulance, Sirius hopping down to help. You see his lips form your name.
Sirius’ head snaps up.
There’s nowhere to hide. You shoot them a sheepish smile, your footsteps stalling before you remember to get out of the crosswalk. Remus’ head appears a moment later, peering out of the back of the ambulance. He helps James lower their patient onto the pavement, the both of them shooting worried glances at you as they wheel him inside and Sirius takes off towards you.
“What the fuck?” he calls as he jogs over. Your boyfriend’s dark hair is tied back in a short ponytail, and it gleams under the fluorescent lights outside the hospital. He looks from your face, to where you’re holding your arm tight to your side, and back again. “What are you doing here?”
“I, um, didn’t think I’d see you.” It’s out before you can think it through, but in all fairness you’re having a bit of a strenuous evening.
Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “That’s not what I asked. Sweetheart, what did you do to yourself?”
You rub your lips together, feeling suddenly very sorry for yourself. Your shoulder really does hurt a lot. “I think I might’ve dislocated my shoulder?”
“How’d you manage that?”
You hesitate. “Don’t laugh.”
“Don’t laugh about what?” James asks as he joins you. Remus isn’t far behind. James peers at your arm, looking about as sorry for you as you are. “Are you hurt?”
“She thinks she’d dislocated it,” Sirius informs him.
“What were you doing?” Remus moves to your side, setting a comforting hand on your back as he touches near it gingerly. You hiss through your teeth and he stops.
“You guys can’t laugh at me,” you insist.
“Well, now I think I might not be able to help myself.” Sirius is smiling at you slightly, though his brows are still bunched with sympathy. “Come on, out with it.”
You chew your bottom lip. Remus’ eyebrow lifts expectantly. “Okay,” you breathe out, “um, you know how I’ve been going out to rollerskate lately?”
Remus’ expression clouds over. “I told you that was dangerous,” he says. “Were you wearing your pads?”
“Angel, this late?” James appears scandalized. “It’s been dark for hours!”
You feel your face heat, growing more sheepish by the second. Sirius gives you a stern look. “Go on,” he says.
“There was decent lighting and everything, but I accidentally started going down this hill, and I was going, um, really quite fast.” All three of your boyfriends tense in anticipation. “So I threw myself into the grass and I think I landed on my shoulder wrong.”
Sirius gives a little chuckle, ignoring your glare. “You think?”
“Okay, I’ll admit,” says Remus, “that is a slightly funny image. But it’s less funny that you actually got hurt, dove. Did you come all the way out here just to avoid running into us?”
You’re too surprised to hide your wince. Trust Remus to have you completely pegged without so much as a conversation.
James’ lips part at your reaction. “Did you really?”
“What are you even doing here?” you ask, shamefaced.
Sirius crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at you. “Our hospital’s on bypass,” he answers.
You shrink further under the intensity of his gaze.
“Angel,” James sighs. He steps closer and cups the back of your head, resting his lips heavily on your hairline. “Well, there’s no avoiding us now,” he says, straightening. “We haven’t taken our breaks yet, want us to sit with you while they get you sorted?”
“Yes, please,” you reply in a small voice.
Remus makes a compassionate sound in his throat, encouraging you towards the entrance with his hand on your back. “We’d better get you in, then. Hopefully we’ll be able to expedite things with the three of us here.”
You start to relax, two of your boyfriends seemingly haven forgiven your secrecy. You chance a look at the third, still watching you with a stern expression as you walk towards the hospital doors. He catches your look and flicks up a brow.
“You’d better still tell me I’m handsome when my hair is all gray,” he says, in the kind of severe tone that makes you doubt whether he’s teasing. “It’s already starting at the roots, and you’re entirely to blame.”
You quell the urge to smile. “You’ll always be handsome,” you tell him sincerely.
“That’s the attitude.” Sirius walks backwards in front of you, pecking you firmly on the lips before falling back into step beside you. “Keep rehearsing those lines, sweetheart. I’ll be needing to hear them more often if you keep up with this rollerskating bullshit.”
#emt!marauders#emt!marauders x reader#marauders au#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders hurt/comfort#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#james potter x reader#siruis black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders
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i would love it if you wrote anything with a shy reader and bob, but no pressure!
Two shy characters? I love it.
Shy Reader x B. Floyd
Summary: At the Navy bar your friends drag you to, you come across an aviator who isn’t like the rest of them.
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, fluff!, Bob is so cute I wanna put him in my pocket even though I know he’s a grown man.
A/n: I did something a little different than my Jake story, hope you don’t hate it <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I really wish we could have just stayed at the restaurant.” You awkwardly laugh as your friends, Ashley and Steff, pull you along with them.
“Oh come on, it’s my birthday so we’re going to get drunk and find a soldier to take home. One for each of us.” Steff says, already slightly tipsy from dinner.
You hide your frown, adjusting your curled hair and fiddle with your top.
You’ve never been into the Hard Deck, that’s what starts off your unsureness. You weren’t one for public outings, you enjoyed the company of your friends but they were always more adventurous than you.
There’s music playing and lots of people mingling, you’re practically hiding behind Ashley, following the two through the bar.
“You need a drink, you’re too stiff.” Ash says as the three of you sit at the bar.
“I’m always this stiff.” You reply, sitting on your stool. “Well, let’s fix that.” Steff giggles before ordering three drinks.
You chat and your anxious feelings subside, as soon as you get to thinking that bar scene really isn’t that bad, you hit a curve.
“God, they’re all so gorgeous.” Ash practically moans and you follow her line of sight to the group of uniforms behind you. They’re all playing pool and talking, all clad in tan and name badges.
“I like…that one- no! Him, yes, the tall one.” Steff bites her straw, motioning to a dirty blond with broad shoulders and great biceps.
Ash hums in agreement. “I like him too.”
“Well it’s my birthday so pick again.”
They have the argument for another minute or so, then as you finally dissociate from them, they’re telling you they’re going to go say hi.
“What? No just stay here…please?” You beg, not wanting to be left alone.
“We’ll be right back, I swear.” Steff says, kissing your cheek. “Have another drink and you’ll be fine.”
You groan and rub her lipstick off your face, then turn to the woman behind the bar. “I’ll have another Long Island, put it on the party girl’s tab.”
She smiles. “Coming right up.”
You blow out a puff of air, then look around. You must look awkward, sitting by yourself, not chatting like everyone else. When your drink comes, you look sip on your straw and look over your shoulder to see if your friends have gotten any farther with the guys they’re talking to. You smile at the way Steff is feeling her guy up, as you go to glance away, something catches your eye.
Someone.
He’s sitting on a stool, not fully engaged with the rest of the squad. As your eyes catch his stare, he looks away for a moment, then looks back.
A genuine smile he gives you, and then it’s your turn to slightly smile and look away.
Bob’s eyes keep shifting to your seated position across from him, and by the third time of his drifting off, Phoenix is onto his game.
“Are you gonna sit here like an idiot all night or are you going to talk to her?” She asks.
“What? I don’t know what-”
She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been staring at her like a puppy for twenty minutes. Go talk to her.”
The thought of approaching you seemed like a death wish. You were gorgeous, and any other previous times he’s approached a gorgeous girl, it ended with some sort of question about what Hangman was up to.
“No, she looks busy.” He says, looking back to the sunflower seeds in his cup.
“Busy doing what? Stirring the ice in her drink? That girl is bored out of her mind, Bob, go put her out of her misery.” She has a demanding tone that makes him stand, still unsure.
“What’s he doing?” Fanboy asks, noticing the way Bob slowly inches forward. “He’s gonna go talk to the girl he’s been ogling for too long.” Phoenix says.
“You go Bob!” Payback encourages, really just joking.
“Get me a beer while you’re at it!” Fanboy calls.
“Me too!” Phoenix and Payback add.
He walks with hesitation instead of determination, the entire time he thinks it’s a ridiculous idea.
He stops at the spot beside you. “Penny, can I get three beers?”
By his sudden presence, you startle, slightly jumping in your seat.
“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare yuh.” He apologizes. You’re more beautiful up close, timid as you tell him it was okay.
“Why’re you sitting alone? If you don’t mind me asking?” He asks and you bite your lower lip, fighting a smile. “My friends are busy groping your friends over there.” You joke.
“Makes sense. You’re not a fan of their antics?”
You shake your head, nose scrunching. Bob takes in a small breath. “Well, I think it’s a real shame that you’re sitting alone. Why don’t you go back to your friends?”
You like his accent, it feels southern but you aren’t sure.
“Really, I’m fine. I’m not exactly a fan of the attention being on me.” You admit.
As Penny places three beer bottles in front of him, he grabs them up. “I think you should join me.” He rushes out, his tone just as surprised as you are.
“Join you?” You ask, looking to the group. Two guys are shoving each other back and forth, seeing who will fall over first. You’re not satisfied with the idea of involving yourself with that. “I think I’ll just wait for my friends to come back.”
He takes a seat beside you. “Can I join you then?”
No guy has ever been so persistent with you before, you’re not sure what to do. You look at his name tag.
“Okay, Floyd, you can stay but I’m kind of boring.”
He shakes his head. “I find that hard to believe and uh, you can call me Bob, everyone else does.”
Having him up close, you recognize how handsome he really is. Not the obnoxiously attractive that the rest of his crew is, he’s more reserved. You like that. His glasses are quirky and different, making him look all the better.
“I’d hate to keep you from your friends, Bobby.”
No one’s ever called him Bobby before, the way it sounds coming off your lips is addicting.
“Trust me, you’re doing me a favor.” He jokes. “You got a name?”
You look at your shoes and tell him. When he tries it out, you blush.
“I like that name.” He compliments.
“I think it’s kind of boring:”
“It’s not boring.”
You like the way he’s being so kind, most guys would have tried a pick up line by now, but Bob sits with utter curiosity in his eyes.
“So, you from here?” You ask, sucking on your straw.
“No, I’ve lived in Lemoore for a while but I’m stationed here until further notice. I grew up in Kentucky actually, then I joined the Navy and haven’t really been back.” He explains, watching the way you rest an elbow in the bar, then lean your head on your hand. “What about you? Are you from here?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m from up North actually. But I went to school down here and fell in love with it so here I am.”
The two of you are quickly immersed in conversation about childhood and travel and Bob watches you come out of your shell.
“You don’t want anything?” You asked, motioning to the bar.
“I don’t drink.” He explains, though he’s distracted by Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin who suddenly is crowding your space.
“Excuse me, is this guy bothering you?” He asks, joking around with Bob.
“Don’t you have a blonde to attend to, Bagman?” Bob questions, making the man drop his smile.
“I’m getting her a drink, her friend too.” He says before ordering two vodka sodas. He looks back at you. “Your party girlfriends are wanting you to join them.”
As you open your mouth to respond, a shout comes from the group. “Bob! What happened to the beers?”
Bob groans, then stands to gather the beers that have been sitting for twenty minutes. “I should get back to it.” He tells you with a smile, walking away.
You look around, confused. Maybe you put him off, maybe you gave the wrong signals. You grab your drink, finishing it quickly, and before you can second guess yourself, you follow after him.
As your presence is recognized, the crew halts in conversation.
This was a bad idea. You could turn back, it wasn’t too late.
As you go to do just that, Bob speaks. “Hi again.”
He’s motioning to the stool he was going to sit on, offering it to you instead.
You slowly sit, deciding on being brave.
You’re introduced to the rest of the group, and as you remember why you didn’t want to be around the guys your friends wanted to, Bob is there, talking to you so the others couldn’t. There’s plenty of jokes made that you force yourself to laugh at, just so you wouldn’t seem awkward, but the tale tell sign of you constantly checking the little leather watch on your wrist showed you were ready for some peace and quiet.
“You wanna go for a walk?” Bob’s voice is low next to your ear, it makes a shiver run through you.
As you look up, his face is surprisingly close to you. You slowly nod. “Okay.”
In the moment that everyone else is distracted by the two girls who adore the attention, the two of you head for the door. You don’t pull away as Bob clutches your hand, keeping you close as he leads you past people.
The music is immediately quieted as you make it to the fresh air, the gentle sound of the waves coming in is relaxing.
“I don’t love the crowds either.” He says as you make your way across the sidewalk. You’re busy looking out to the sand and waves. “Ash and Steff are really more the fun ones, they can have a good time with a group of people watching…I cannot.”
He likes the sound of your laugh, the way the white moonlight is hitting your features makes you seem radiant.
“I always thought the Navy would make me a more sociable person, I guess it has but I think it creeps people out, how quiet I am.” He chuckles.
Completely content with strolling beside you, he gives off an energy you feel utterly comfortable in.
“I like that you’re quiet, most Navy guys aren’t.”
He playfully squints at you. “You talk to a lot of Navy guys?”
Reevaluating your words, your cheeks flush. “No that’s not what I meant, I just meant that- they’re all a certain way- not that I would know! I have never slept with any man of uniform!”
Bob stands in surprise at your ramble, finding it humorous. As he laughs, you cover your face, embarrassed.
“Hey, I was just teasing. I swear, I was teasin’.” He grabs your wrists gently, prying your hands from you so he can look at your red face. “Come on, pretty girl, look at me.”
As soon as he says it, he feels embarrassed himself. The name just slipped out, he should’ve halted the words, he needs to apologize-
You look up at him, doe eyes and a small smile.
Your hearts pounding, your close proximity to him has you feeling hot. As the low crash of waves mixes with the ringing in your ears, you wonder what it would be like to live on the wild side, to do what people do in bars. If you were brave and stepped out of your shy personality, would he let you kiss him?
Bob’s gazing down at you, he’s trying to figure out what’s turning in your mind. One hand lets go of your wrist, it gently cups your cheek.
“I’m going to be bold.” You state with a determination that makes him nod.
“Okay.” Is all he says.
The hand he has a hold on, goes to rest on his chest. You’re surprised at the hardness of it, sure you knew he had to be physically fit to be in the line of work he’s in, but his body is so unsuspecting, it honestly makes him utterly attractive.
He watches you hyper fixate on your touch on his chest, and the warmth of you is enough to make him feel buzzed.
He doesn’t want to rush you, but every second where you don’t pursue whatever thought you have, is killing him.
You start thinking against it, you don’t want him to think you kiss strangers, it’s not who you are at all. You swallow hard, about to call the whole thing off and tell him goodnight. When you raise your head though, he’s lifting your face to his. You’re captivated, he’s embracing you so tenderly, kissing you with an unsure and unfamiliar passion.
You sigh deeply, he holds your hand to his chest, your free one slides over his shoulder. Slowly, shyly, your lips move against his, falling into a gentle rhythm.
Your heavy eyes are shut, the utter feeling of him is making an electricity flicker through you.
After a moment, he pulls away, both hands cradling your face now.
“Please tell me that’s what you were going to do.”
You nod with a fever. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was going to do.”
He kisses you quickly once more, just to get it out of his system. “What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks.
“Probably nursing Steff’s hang over, but if you call me I’ll do whatever you’re doing.”
He grins, liking the idea.
You continue your late night walk, and inside the bar, Coyote looks to the vacant stool with confusion. “Where’s Bob?”
The crew stops, then looks to the empty space.
“Stealth pilot, I’m telling you.” Hangman says. “This guy is always disappearing and popping back up again.”
#top gun fandom#top gun maverick#bob floyd#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd x reader#jake seresin#natasha trace#lewis pullman#fluff#x reader
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Part 4 is here!!!
I’m glad so many people are enjoying this :) I’ll probably have to come up with a real name for it now, huh
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
~
Thoroughly chastised, Eddie laid off on his investigation into the mystery behind Harrington and his unlikely friends for a few days. That’s not to say he wasn’t thinking about it. He had simply paused any needling of all involved parties until he had more information about how to continue without pissing everyone off. Something he wouldn’t really be worried about, if it didn’t mean he would never get to the bottom of things, which would eat at him until the end of time if never resolved.
The next time he found himself directly involved in Harrington affairs was in a place he never would have expected: his own driveway. Well, the driveway directly across from his, which in the trailer park, may as well have been his own driveway. Eddie had been minding his business, working on the lyrics for a new song, when the voices he could hear growing steadily louder outside finally caught his attention; shifting his focus from his notebook to the ongoing.. argument?
“Why do you even care?” A girl’s voice rang out.
Yeah, definitely an argument, though it wasn’t a voice he recognized as one of the frequent offenders of loud trailer park discussions. Using his incredible deduction skills from years of puzzle-based games, he guessed it was the red headed girl from the family that had just moved in across the driveway. Before he had time to think too much about that, a voice he did recognize answered her.
“Why do I-“ Harrington cut himself off with a scoff. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re not my goddamn brother!” The girl, Eddie thought her name started with an M, Marie… Mandy..? shouted in response.
“Thank god for that.” Harrington shot back.
That must have had some sort of effect on the girl because it was silent for a beat. Eddie took the opportunity to move so he could peek out the window to watch them. Harrington and the girl stood next to his car, which was parked in front of the trailer Eddie knew to be where she lived. Harrington had his hands on his hips while the girl had her arms crossed and was glaring daggers at him.
“Max, I-” Right! That was her name.
Harrington sighed, a tired, defeated thing. “Things have been rough since… since Starcourt. For everyone. I want to make sure you’re ok. You shouldn’t… y’know, feel alone in this.”
“How could you possibly know how I fucking feel?” She spat back at him.
Harrington remained unintimidated, an impressive feat, if you asked Eddie, since Max was looking at him like she was trying to blow him up with her mind.
In response, he threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “I guess I wouldn’t! Because you won’t talk to me! You won’t talk to Sinclair! You won’t talk to anyone!”
“None of you would understand! None of you-“
“What?” Harrington pushed, crossing his own arms. “You think you’re the only one who’s lost people? The only one who feels guilty about things that were out of our control?”
“I don’t feel guilty.” She nearly growled.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
This whole scene was really reminding Eddie of the bitchy figure of Steve Harrington that he remembered from school. Never knowing when to back off. Poking the sore spots. Eddie would almost be worried about Max, if Harrington wasn’t planted firmly in the same spot through the whole thing, and if she wasn’t giving as good as she took, looking more exasperated than anything.
When Max failed to reply, Harrington continued. “Look. I know how tempting it is to try to shut it all out and move on. That’s what Nancy and I tried to do the first time, and look where that got us.”
Eddie couldn’t really make out Harrington’s expression from this distance, but he almost sounded pleading. “I don’t wanna see you make the same mistakes I did. I don’t want you to ruin your friendships, or what you have with Lucas, because you’re too afraid to talk about it. I’ve been there, and it sucks. Hard.”
That seemed to be the final straw for Max. Eddie watched her turn abruptly around and storm into the trailer, whose lights were suspiciously dark for the time of evening it was.
“Hey!” Harrington called after her, making an aborted movement to follow her. “Mayfield!”
Harrington opened the door to the backseat of his car and pulled out what looked like a pizza box. He jogged up to the front door of the trailer and knocked. After a few moments of silence, he called into the house, “At least take the pizza!”
Eddie couldn’t hear what Max said in response but he watched Harrington shake his head and put the pizza down on the doorstep. Then, watched him all the way back to his car where he got in, looked back once more at Max’s trailer, then drove off.
A few minutes later Eddie saw one of the lights in the trailer turn on. He waited a few minutes to see if she would take the pizza now that Harrington was gone, but she never did.
Now, Eddie knew this was none of his business. He knew this was something he absolutely should not poke his sticky little fingers in. But there was something about the anger in Max’s eyes, her determination to be misunderstood, that struck Eddie. Reminded him of how he had been when he’d first been dropped off in this trailer park with his uncle after his whole life had been upended.
And maybe a part of him was also hungry for more crumbs of the Harrington conundrum, but maybe, he thought, if Max was going through something none of her friends could understand, maybe he might offer a different perspective.
He slipped out of his own trailer and made his way across the driveway to Max’s. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Almost immediately, Max’s voice returned.
“I thought I told you to fuck off, Steve!”
“Then, it has never been more convenient for me to not be Steve Harrington.” Eddie quipped.
He heard footsteps behind the door before it swung open harshly. Max eyed him up and down like she was trying ro figure out the best way to destroy him.
“You’re that guy that runs Lucas’ stupid club.” She eventually said.
Guess he had been right about her goal being to destroy him. He instinctively recoiled, gasping. “Hellfire is not stupid-“
“You sit in a dark room with a bunch of freshmen and pretend to kill monsters and save the world.” She interrupted before he could start his spiel.
Eddie narrowed his eyes at her, questioning why he even came over here in the first place. He decided to shelve this particular argument for a later date, and forged ahead.
“Whatever, I’m not here to discuss the merits of role playing games.” He waved a dismissive hand.
“Good. Because if you were, I would be telling you to fuck off.”
“Such harsh language.” Eddie mock-chastised.
Max rolled her eyes. “Why are you here, weirdo?”
Eddie shrugged. “Just overheard your little spat with Harrington, was wondering if I should be concerned about the safety of my new neighbor.”
Max scoffed. “Steve? Hurt me? He’d sonner wander into traffic.”
Of course Eddie didn’t really think Harrington would be the type to terrorize girls barely out of middle school. At least not now that he was a high school graduate.
Eddie put his hands up in surrender. “Just checking, you never know what bad actors might be lurking around this town.”
Max didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, you mean like the creepy super senior who waited until I was home alone to come talk to me.”
Eddie was really getting sick of her attitude, but also, had to respect her commitment to it. “You know you shouldn’t tell random people that you’re home alone. Stranger danger and all that.”
Max rolled her eyes yet again. “Did you actually want something other than to rag on Steve and piss me off?”
“I was actually wondering if you were gonna eat that?” He pointed to the pizza box.
For a split second Max looked like she wanted to say no and let him take it. Throw it in his face even. But then something else flashed behind her eyes. Something all too familiar to Eddie: Spite.
“I am, actually.” Quicker than Eddie could process her words, she flung a foot out and kicked the pizza box into the trailer and slammed the door.
“Do I need to say it, or do you get the idea?” She yelled through the door.
Eddie hummed theatrically, not willing to show he could be dissuaded so easily.
“Mmmm, I think I need to hear it one more time.”
He imagined her slightly shocked expression behind the door for the beat she took before yelling, “FUCK. OFF.”
Eddie saluted lazily, despite Max’s inability to see him. “Message received, Red.”
And with that, he hopped the steps down the porch of the Mayfield trailer and made his way back to his own, somehow with even more questions regarding his most recent fixation than before.
Part 5
#wow you guys really blew this up :)#welcome to the max interlude i hope you enjoy#steve harrington#eddie munson#max mayfield#stranger things
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✧.* how to lose the girl; xmh
synopsis: minghao was feeling tired of shallow relationships. his friends, noticing his frustration, challenge him to pursue a girl and then push her away within ten days. intrigued by the idea, he reluctantly accepts the bet as a fun challenge.
part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎
paring/s: afab reader x non-idol hao.
genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), low-key fuckboy hao
warning/s: alcohol consumption, some bad jokes, nothing too bad or seggsy
word count: 10.3k
content: all the vibes of how to lose a guy in ten days but nawt. enjoy xo!
Day 1 - The Bet
In the lively heart of the city, Minghao, was out flaunting his charming looks and a playful grin, typically on his much too expensive and lavish work lunches which gave him and the rest of his colleges an excuse to pick up a bunch of beautiful women to take home every night, a lot of them falling hard for him no matter how poorly he left them hanging the morning after. But lately, he noticed how he always found himself drowning in a sea of shallow connections, and it was starting to wear on him.
Sensing his distress, his friends hatched an interesting plan to inject some excitement into his love life: they dared him to make a girl fall for him and then push her away in just ten days! “No way in fucking hell could he pull this off, he’ll get bored by day four.” jeered one friend, gleefully rubbing his hands together. With a mix of reluctance and curiosity bubbling inside him, Minghao accepted, eager to see how fast he could make a girl sprint for the exit.
Across town, y/n was navigating her own challenges. She was as her friends described a fierce, independent powerhouse who was on a mission to conquer the advertising world and prove to her office overrun by male colleagues that she meant business. Relationships? She just viewed them for what they were distractions in her quest for success—something she simply couldn’t afford. With her sights set on her career, she was about to discover just how unpredictable life and love could be when the most unexpected challenges came knocking.
Day 2 - The Meeting
Minghao first spotted Y/n at a coffee shop, her eyes glued to her laptop as she furiously typed, rather loudly should he add. He decided she would be the perfect target. Something about her tight lipped focused face, her hair perfectly slicked into a ponytail, not a hair out of place, something about her felt more like a challenge than a perfect sweep for his bet.
He approached her with his trademark smile, confident and carefree. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing toward the empty chair across from her. y/n looked up, a mix of annoyance and intrigue in her gaze.
“Actually, yes,I don’t care to do my work around a fuck boy flirting with me, my office has enough of those. Have a good day.” she replied bluntly, not ready to be derailed from her work.
Minghao, undeterred by her obvious dismissal, sat down anyway. “I’m Minghao,” he introduced himself. “And I think you owe me a chance to change your mind.”
She raised an eyebrow, still looking down at her computer, typing a bit less loud now, almost as if she was intrigued and didn’t want him to know but the scowl on her face said she was still skeptical. “Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?”
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in closer. “Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he replied playfully. “But first, you’ll have to let me take you on a perfect first date.”
Y/n almost chuckled at his audacity, but there was an undeniable spark of intrigue in her gaze. Little did she know, mingling with Minghao was about to shake up her life.
“Fine. If that will get you to leave me alone while I work, I’ll agree.”
“I’m not leaving here until I get your contact information,” Minghao laughed.
Rolling her eyes, Y/n dug through her wallet, searching for a business card. “Here,” she said, finally pulling one out and extending it towards him.
But Minghao just held his hand up in a stop-motion gesture, shaking his head. “No, not a business card. I need to know you’ll actually show up, so let me have your personal phone number instead.”
Y/n stared at him, incredulity mixing with a lingering smile. “Oh, so bold. And what makes you think I will?”
“Because,” he leaned closer, his expression earnest now, “I have a feeling that once you get to know me, you won’t want to miss out. Plus, if I leave with a business card, how will I ever convince you to let me take you on that perfect date?”
Her skepticism flickered for a second under the brightness of his confidence, but she still hesitated. “You really think you can convince me?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone teasing yet sincere. “And if I fail, I promise I’ll leave you alone forever. Deal?”
For a moment, Y/n pondered the spontaneity of his request, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, a grin broke free on her lips as she typed her number into his phone, the anticipation of the unknown sparking excitement within her. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, handing back the phone with a hint of warning in her tone.
Minghao's eyes lit up with genuine delight as he saved her contact. “You won’t regret this,” he promised, his voice softening a touch.
As he returned the phone to her, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter of uncertainty mixed with exhilaration. Perhaps there was something to this spontaneous gamble after all. Little did they know, that simple decision would pave the way for an unforgettable connection and adventures neither had anticipated.
Day 3 - The Chase
Over the days that followed, Minghao played his part, showering her with attention that ranged from over-the-top romantic gestures to quirky surprises. He brought her favorite pastries to the office, sent her memes that made her laugh, and even bombarded her with cheesy pick-up lines. Each time, Y/n found herself torn between annoyance and amusement.
At first, she had tried to brush him off, responding to his texts with one-word replies or simply ignoring his more audacious attempts to brighten her day. However, Minghao persisted, his cheerful determination almost unwavering. One afternoon, she returned from a long meeting to find her desk decorated with colorful sticky notes adorned with doodles and handwritten compliments. “You’re the best part of my day,” one note claimed, and despite her initial irritation, a small smile tugged at her lips.
Minghao was relentless, his charm starting to break down her walls. She had to admit there was something about him—he was refreshingly carefree, unlike the uptight guys she usually dated. While others might have tried to impress her with their accomplishments or flashy gifts, Minghao found ways to make her laugh, embracing a lightheartedness that was both refreshing and frightening. But Y/n was determined to keep him at arm's length; she had a career to focus on.
Still, the more time they spent chatting, the more she found herself looking forward to his texts. Each meme and quirky voice note felt less like an intrusion and more like a highlight of her day. One evening, after a particularly grueling week, she found herself daydreaming about a potential picnic under the stars, something Minghao had suggested a few days prior.
“No, no,” she chastised herself, shaking her head as she turned her attention to her laptop. “Stay focused.”
Yet, every time she tried to immerse herself in her work, her mind would inevitably wander back to him. The way he laughed, the warmth in his gaze, even the way he playfully challenged her every now and then—there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.
On a particularly busy Friday, while sipping her coffee and reviewing a presentation, she felt her phone vibrate on the desk. A message appeared: “Hey, just thought you might want to know that your favorite pastry is waiting at the corner café. No obligations. Just a little pick-me-up to start your weekend. 😊”
Y/n's heart softened, a flutter of appreciation sweeping through her. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, trying to suppress the smile creeping onto her face. Maybe she could allow herself a moment of distraction.
She quickly glanced at the time and the empty office around her, nobody here really worked on the weekends aside from herself so she decided to take a break just this once. With a random jolt of excitement, she stood up, brushed aside her work-related thoughts, and headed to the café. She spotted him sitting comfortably at a small table, a bright smile illuminating his face. Before she could even say a word, he raised a pastry in greeting, “I didn’t know if you liked it warm or cold, so I got one of each, just to be safe!”
Her laughter bubbled out despite herself. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
“But I did, you mentioned to me the other day you never have fun on the weekends anymore because you're busy working, ” Minghao countered, setting the pastries down and leaning back in his chair. “Life's too short not to indulge in the little things. Besides, you're worth it.”
His words stirred something in her, something she had kept buried under layers of practicality. A mix of anxiety and excitement danced in her chest as they shared bits of pastry and stories, laughter weaving between them effortlessly. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/n considered that perhaps life wasn’t just about hard work and career goals—it could also be about spontaneous moments and unexpected connections.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the café, Y/n let herself enjoy the moment, her defenses slowly crumbling, piece by piece. “Want to go for a drink? Unless you have plans or something?”
“You’re asking me out? Wow, Y/n, I’m pleasantly surprised. I’d actually enjoy that. Big boss lady is paying, right?” Minghao pressed, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.
Y/n rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her lips. “Very funny. I should have known you’d want to make this about money,” she teased, her heart racing slightly at the thought of stepping into the realm of casual dating.
“I’m kidding. But you know I’d never let you cover the whole tab, right?” he replied, his voice playful yet sincere. “How about we split it? One thing I’ve learned is that relationships, friendships or otherwise, are all about balance.”
“That sounds fair but please let me get it actually I feel a little bad about you always paying anyway. Plus, I asked you. That's how it works right?,” she agreed, her spirit lifted by his lightheartedness. “Where do you want to go?”
“I know this cozy little bar just around the corner. They have some cool drinks and the vibes are good,” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Plus, I’ve heard they serve a mean nacho platter.”
“Nachos and drinks sound perfect. Wow- I hate that I actually got excited by a fucking macho platter, but okay.” she replied, feeling a surge of excitement and momentary embarrassment over some fucking chips with cheese. She was surprised at how nervous yet invigorated she felt.
As they walked to the bar, the warm evening air enveloped them like a casual embrace. With every step beside him, Y/n felt the weight of her daily grind lift. “So, what’s your go-to cocktail?” she asked, surprisingly eager to keep the chatter flowing.
“I’d say I’m a classic and simple beer or wine dude, but I’m always game for something a bit off the beaten path. You?”
“Dirty martini,” she answered, a proud smile crossing her face. “Simple but sophisticated.”
“Ah, the big boss lady indeed. But the real question is gin or vodka?” He winked, and for a moment, she felt herself blush, something she hadn’t experienced in ages.
“Vodka, but shut you fucking mouth and don’t tell any martini enthusiasts. Extra dry, extra dirty.”
“Not extra wet and extra dirty?”
Y/n nearly choked on her own spit, watching his face crinkle into a big smile before they erupted into laughter.
They snagged a small table tucked away in a corner, perfect for engaging in their own little world.
After placing their orders, conversations flowed as smoothly as the drinks. Minghao effortlessly switched between sharing amusing anecdotes about his life and asking Y/n about hers, genuinely interested in her career aspirations and what fueled her passions. With every laugh they exchanged and each shared story, Y/n found herself relaxing more, drawn into his effortless charm.
“Alright, I need the truth,” Minghao said, leaning in as if about to share a juicy secret. “What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?”
Y/n took a moment, contemplating her answer before finally admitting, “Reality TV. It’s a little bit shameful, I know, but there’s something about the drama that I can’t resist.”
Minghao laughed heartily, the sound filling her with warmth. “No shame in that. I actually can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy watching Love Island. I’m more of a cooking show fan, to be honest. Nothing quite like watching people fail spectacularly while I sit there eating takeout as if I can cook this shit myself.”
“Okay, we’re definitely going to have a night where I introduce you to some of the best reality stars of all time, where you will sit and not fucking complain. And since I can cook, I will go hell's kitchen style on the stove. ” she declared, a playful challenge glimmering in her eyes.
“Hey, look I’m game, but only if you let me judge your cooking like I’m the god himself Ramsay.” he exclaimed, his excitement unmistakable. “Just let me know when. I’ll bring the snacks and the commentary.”
As the evening progressed, they shared stories about childhood memories, dreams, and the quirks that made them who they were. With each revelation, Y/n felt a deeper connection forming, an understanding that perhaps taking a little time away from work wouldn’t derail her ambitions after all.
Maybe it was time to let a little chaos in, she thought, as their conversation twisted and turned down unexpected paths, igniting sparks of joy she hadn’t anticipated, making her question everything she thought she knew about herself and about love.
Minghao got the vibe that his little plan for making Y/n fall for him could potentially end up with him feeling the same way, but not yet. He pushed that feeling deep down inside his gut, almost like he could hide it from everyone, including himself. His heart raced with excitement, but mingled with a twinge of anxiety. He didn’t want to rush things or scare her off with his burgeoning feelings. Just because she was opening up didn’t mean she was ready for more, and he wanted to tread carefully even if it was just to fuck around for a bet with his friends.
“So, Y/n, since you’re not working tomorrow, want to come hang out at my place for a bit? Have a nightcap? Maybe watch a movie or something?” Minghao questioned, his voice casual, but the flicker of anticipation in his eyes betrayed him.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, the prospect of going to his place stirring a mix of excitement and nerves within her. She knew this was a step beyond their playful banter, a leap into a territory where she would need to confront what she was feeling. But the words “why not?” danced on the tip of her tongue.
“Sure, I’d love that,” she replied, a hint of eagerness surprising even herself. “But fair warning, if we’re watching a movie, it has to be a good one. Nothing corny please.”
“Oh come on, you seem like you’d love a good rom-com, I can tell.” Minghao laughed, and she found herself laughing along, the playful banter feeling natural and comforting.
As they bickered back and forth about their movie preferences, Y/n felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him. Maybe this was the chaos she needed in her life—this lighthearted connection that sparked something new and exhilarating.
“I know just the film to break your resistance,” Minghao declared, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “Prepare yourself for a classic, then. I think you’ll love it, it’s one of my favorites.”
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But if it’s as terrible as I imagine, you owe me.” Y/n countered playfully, feeling a warmth spread through her chest.
“Deal.” he shot back with a cheeky grin, and the two clinked their glasses together in agreement, the camaraderie between them solidifying.
As they finished their drinks and shared a few more laughs, Y/n couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was just the beginning—like an entrance into a world she had pushed away for too long, forever maybe.. And Minghao, with his undeniable charm and knack for fun, was animating a side of her she had almost forgotten existed.
After wrapping up the evening at the bar, they stepped back into the cool night air. The streets were softly illuminated, the stars twinkling overhead, creating an atmosphere that was very special. As they walked side by side toward Minghao's apartment, the distance felt comfortable, but somehow charged with an undercurrent of anticipation.
“Y/n,” Minghao said, breaking the gentle silence, “I know we’ve only just started hanging out, but I just want to make sure you feel okay about this. I mean, about coming over.” He glanced at her, his expression earnest. “No pressure at all—I just genuinely enjoy your company.I’m not trying to be a player or whatever you assumed I was when we first met.”
His sincerity made her heart flutter. “I’m glad you said that, but it was fuck boy and you maybe have proved yourself beyond that title. I enjoy this too, and I think it’ll be fun to hang out more and get to know you. Just…uh, promise you wont judge me too harshly if I end up hogging the blanket during the movie or talking with popcorn in my mouth or something.”
“Fair warning accepted,” he replied, a teasing gleam in his eye. “I might have to initiate a blanket-sharing strategy, I think we can make it work.”
They both laughed, the playful energy crackling between them as they approached his building. Maybe she could allow herself to embrace this unexpected chaos, to explore a connection without overthinking it for once. And who knows? Perhaps Minghao wouldn’t just be a passing ship but a delightful step into a new chapter of her life.
As they stepped into his cozy apartment, Y/n tucked that thought away for later, intent on simply enjoying the moment—and the thrill of where it might lead them.
Minghao took her coat off her shoulders, hanging it on the small black hooks by his front door. Sliding his own off gently placing them side by side. Instructing her where to place her shoes and bag on the marble entry table donning photos of his friends and family.
“Your apartment is really cute, I can tell you like living here. It has a warm feel to it.”
“Yeah, I do,” Minghao smiled taking in a whiff of his tobacco scented room spray, and grabbing y/n’s hand to lead her into his living room, taking a brief stop at his bar cart and grabbing a bottle of wine, while handing her two glasses to carry in her empty hand.
The aroma of the wine filled the space as he poured their glasses, the deep crimson liquid swirling beautifully.
Minghao grinned, taking a sip of his own before handing one of the glasses over to her. Their fingers brushed for a moment, sending a spark of electricity that made her smile shyly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab the remote.”
Y/n settled onto the couch, sinking into the overly plush cushions. She took a moment to look around, noting the way the soft lighting cast a warm glow over the walls adorned with art—pieces that seemed to reflect Minghao’s adventurous spirit, each one telling a story.
When he returned, remote in hand, he plopped down beside her, his warmth radiating through her as he casually leaned back, scrolling through his streaming options. “Alright, let’s see what we have here. Brace yourself for my fucking unmatched taste in cinema,” he teased, glancing at her with a twinkle in his eye.
“Give me all that you got, I’m ready,” she replied with playful confidence, leaning into the moment.
With a few flicks of the remote, they settled on a classic action-comedy. The opening credits rolled as they adjusted their seats, finding a naturally comfortable closeness. The shared space between them began to feel charged with anticipation.
As the film began, they laughed together at the antics on screen, occasionally glancing at each other, enjoying the laughter as a bridge between their hearts. Every shared chuckle seemed to layer on the connection that was forming, an unspoken understanding lacing the air around them.
“Minghao, I, uh have got to admit, this isn’t what I expected tonight,” Y/n said during a quiet moment, her eyes sparkling. “But I’m really glad it worked out and that I met you.”
“Yeah? Really? Me too,” he replied, his gaze softening as he turned to her. “I’ve wanted to hang out like this for a while. I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same, but I’m glad we did. I’m glad I forced you to give me your phone number that day.”
Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his honesty. She had been guarded for so long, and here was Minghao, effortlessly peeling away at her layers with every shared moment.
As the movie progressed, he reached for the popcorn bowl perched on the coffee table, offering it to her. Their fingers brushed again, igniting an electric thrill that danced between them. The film faded into the background as Y/n found herself getting lost in the depths of his gaze.
“Okay, I’ll admit,” she began, leaning in slightly, “your blanket-sharing strategy may be your ultimate plan to seduce me. I see you.”
Minghao chuckled, taking her playful jab in stride. “Guilty as charged. What can I say? Who could resist a cozy blanket and beautiful company?” He pulled the soft throw from behind the couch, draping it over their laps.
As he settled back beside her, their shoulders nudged together under the blanket, his hand wrapped around her thigh and Y/n felt her heart race. There was an undeniable chemistry in the air, palpable like the fragrance of the wine swirling around them.
Without thinking too much about it, she rested her head on his shoulder, throwing her hair back to reveal her neck—not as a move, just a way to make herself more comfortable. As she leaned in, she caught the subtle scent of Minghao’s cologne, warm and inviting, and felt the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder beneath her cheek. It was a small gesture, yet it felt so natural, almost like an instinctive draw to his warmth.
Minghao looked down at her with a side eye, surprised at how effortlessly they had crossed this invisible line. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin looked under the low light and the way her eyes widened with joy as she laughed at the antics on the screen. Her laughter was contagious, reverberating through him and making his heart race a little faster, a little louder in the calm of the room.
Suddenly, Minghao felt an unfamiliar pang of anxiety creep into his chest. The bet had seemed innocent—a way to explore the chemistry simmering between them—but now it felt like a threaded line tugging at him in different directions. Maybe the bet was a bad idea after all, because now he felt himself falling for someone without knowing what could come next, just like that. It was as if he had opened a door to an inevitable chaos while still trying to remain in control.
Yet every time she shifted slightly against him, every laugh that slipped from her lips, deepened the connection he felt. He had initially thought he’d be the one charming her, the one doing the chasing, but here they were, and Y/n’s mere presence had knocked him off his feet. It startled him, this flicker of vulnerability—that maybe he wasn’t just playing a game; he was investing real emotions.
“You okay?” Y/n murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, her brow slightly furrowed as she noticed the contemplative look on his face.
He quickly masked his thoughts with an easygoing smile. “Yeah, just caught up in the movie,” he replied, trying to divert her attention. “The action scenes are really intense, right?”
Though she seemed to accept his diversion with a playful nod, he could see the hint of curiosity lingering in her eyes, a flash that told him she sensed something in the air between them. A moment of silence stretched between them like a tightly pulled string, neither of them willing to break it. Instead, they allowed the movie to fill the space, as he leaned down and planted a soft kiss against her lips. Something subtle and quick that was just perfect for the moment and wouldn’t derail the nice night they were sharing, he wasn’t ready for that yet.
As the film progressed, Y/n shifted again, curling her body towards him slightly as a particularly funny scene played out, her laughter bubbling forth. It was that unfiltered joy he found intoxicating—a refreshing reminder that life could be this light, this fun, and maybe even a little crazy.
Day 4 - The Competition
During a group outing with friends, Minghao decided to reveal the second phase of his plan: he started being annoyingly competitive. “Let’s have a game night.” he declared, his voice ringing with enthusiasm as he rallied everyone around him. "I challenge you all to a series of ridiculous contests, from karaoke battles to board games. Losers buy the drinks." There was a mixture of excitement and groans from the group, but Minghao was unfazed. He thrived in this atmosphere, eager to galvanize Y/n into joining him in the chaos.
Y/n, who he knew hated losing, found herself reluctantly swept up in the energy of the night. A glimmer of excitement sparked in her eyes, even as she partnered with Minghao, who pretended to be completely uninterested in the competition. She could see the mischievous glint behind his facade, his playfulness luring her in.
As they tackled their first karaoke challenge, Minghao grabbed the microphone. He belted out an off-key rendition of her favorite song, doing little to hide his comedic flair. “You're fucking terrible at this.” Y/n teased him, trying to contain the laughter that bubbled up at the sight of his unfiltered enthusiasm.
“Maybe I’m just trying to get you to help me improve,” Minghao shot back, his smile never wavering. He pointed the microphone at her cheekily, inviting her to join in. The playful energy between them was palpable, the laughter of their friends helped her gain confidence.
Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t quell the smile creeping onto her lips. “You know I fucking suck at singing, right?” she joked, hopping up on stage beside him. In a moment of spontaneity, she grabbed the microphone and took the lead, pouring her heart into the next part of the song, using her off-key notes as a comedic backdrop. Her confidence radiated, and soon the others joined in, clapping and singing along.
The laughter and energy of the room felt electric, and for a moment, the competition melted away, leaving only joy. The night continued with a series of board games and ridiculous challenges, each one causing Minghao to lean in closer to Y/n as they plotted ways to win.
“What’s your game plan?” he whispered to her, though the intensity of his smile hinted he was thoroughly enjoying the game itself more than he let on. The way his eyes sparkled made her heart race a little, stirring a thrill she hadn’t anticipated and in that moment all she wanted to do was wipe the smirk off his face with her lips.
“Honestly? I think our only plan is to distract the other teams with our charm,” Y/n replied, gesturing theatrically. “We’re clearly the most entertaining, so I kind of like it. It's a sweep.”
Minghao laughed, and the sound resonated in her chest. “Perfect strategy.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers as they whispered strategies into the fray of friendly competition raging around them.
As the night wore on, the playful banter and friendly sabotage culminated in a final showdown—an impromptu trivia contest that had everyone shouting questions at one another. “This one’s a gimme. Come on.” Minghao said, grinning ear to ear as he looked at Y/n. “I’ll let you take this one.”
She raised an eyebrow, half-surprised by his sudden willingness to let her answer. “Uh-huh, so this is your secret strategy—make me do all the work?” she said, nudging him playfully.
“Only the smart person's work,” Minghao shot back, laughter dancing in his voice as he leaned into her side. “And besides, I can’t afford another karaoke performance like that—I’m salvaging my reputation here.”
She smirked, appreciating the electric vibe still lingering in the air. “Fine, but you better promise to make up for it after this.”
Their competitive banter continued as the final questions rolled in. Y/n felt surprisingly exhilarated, and she realized that within the madness of the game night—amidst the silly antics and the thrill of competition—something deeper was taking root in her heart. Minghao, in all his competitive glory, was not just a friend; he was somebody who brought out a side in her she hadn’t even known existed.
Day 5 - The Realization
As time progressed, y/n found herself letting her guard down, enjoying Minghao’s company more than she intended. They shared late-night conversations, honest stories of their pasts, and hilarious anecdotes that made her laugh until she cried. But just as quickly as those feelings bloomed, fear crept in. Could she afford to get attached?
Both of them shied away from being honest with their feelings as a matter of protection from their pain in the past.
Minghao especially realized how complicated the situation was. Could he really move forward with her without telling her the truth of why he asked her out in the first place? However, if he tells her the truth, he could lose her altogether. Each day that he hesitated felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, an unspoken tension hanging between them like the heavy clouds before a storm.
He recalled the tender moments they shared—the laughter, the stolen glances, the way her smile lit him up even when he felt like the weight of the world was on him. But lurking beneath those cherished memories was a foundation built on secrets and half-truths. He grappled with the fear that if he revealed the underlying reason for his affection, she might see him as just another guy in her life trying to throw her off her path, rather than someone who genuinely cared.
The truth was like a double-edged sword; it could liberate him or shatter the fragile bond they had formed. In those quiet moments, he could feel his heart wrestling with his mind—one part needing authenticity, while another begged for the safety of keeping his own secret. Was there a path that could lead them both to what they wanted rather than hurting them both?
He knew that eventually, he would have to choose a direction, but every path was filled with uncertainty. Perhaps, for now, he would focus on the little things—the warmth of her hand in his, the gentle way they navigated tough conversations. Yet, deep inside, he wondered how long they could remain strangers to their own truths. The clock was ticking, and each moment felt like an opportunity slipping away.
Day 6 - The Plan Backfires
In an effort to push Y/n away to avoid hurting her, Minghao started purposely sending mixed signals. He ignored her texts, acted uninterested in their plans, and even pretended to be busy whenever she attempted to schedule time together. But to his surprise, Y/n didn’t waver. She matched his energy with playful banter and unwavering support, showing up outside his office with his favorite coffee just when he needed it—the same way he had done for her.
Each time she appeared, a smile lighting up her face, it reminded him of how deeply she understood him, and he knew his plan was backfiring. She took his teasing in stride, firing back with witty comebacks that reminded him of the vibrant connection they shared. He felt the walls he was trying to build between them start to crumble, intrigued and frustrated by the strength of her positive attitude.
Why was he pushing her away when all she seemed to want was him? He could see the concern behind her laughter, the way her brow furrowed slightly when she caught him lost in thought, and it tore at his heart. Was this really the right way to protect her, or was he simply running from something that could be good for both of them?
On one particularly tough day, as he stared out the window, he caught a glimpse of her leaning against the wall, coffee in hand, waiting for him to take a moment to breathe. The sunlight caught her hair, giving her a glow that made her look like an angel in real life, and his chest tightened. She wasn't the kind of person to give up easily, and maybe that’s something he was drawn to.
Instead of the irritation he anticipated feeling, Minghao began to appreciate her staying power. In that moment, he felt both grateful and terrified—grateful that she cared enough to stick around, and terrified that the longer he held back, the more he risked losing a part of himself he had forgotten even existed.
With each passing day, the facade he’d constructed started to feel less like protection and more like a prison. He saw how much she believed in him, not just as a friend, but as someone capable of finding happiness again. But as the walls crumbled beneath her unwavering kindness, he grappled with the realization that if he didn’t confront the truth soon, he might not just push her away, he might just lose her. Minghao knew he would have to decide soon to continue the charade or to find the courage to let her in.
Day 7 - The Confession
One night, while they were taking a walk, the air was heavy with tension, and Minghao couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you keep coming back? I’m clearly trying to push you away,” he blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush, tinged with frustration and desperation.
Y/n stopped, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious for once. “Because, Minghao, I see something in you. I didn’t set out to fall for you, but I can’t help it. You starting to pull away is confusing me. What changed overnight that you can barely even look at me anymore?” Her tone was both challenging and vulnerable, a blend that cut through the discomfort hanging between them.
“It’s because—” Minghao swallowed hard, his heart racing as he looked into her eyes, feeling the weight of the truth pressing against his chest. He focused on her furrowed expression, “This was a bet, and I—”
“A bet?” Y/n’s voice rose, sharp almost like a knife diving into his chest. The surprised look on her face shifted rapidly from confusion to hurt, and it churned something deep within him. He was struck again by the disbelief in her eyes.
The silence between them was thick and suffocating. Minghao took a breath, searching for the right words, but they were lost on him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” he pressed on, his voice softer now. “We started out as a joke—something to distract myself. It was my friend's idea that I foolishly agreed to. And then… then you became real to me.” He paused, trying to convey the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.
Y/n crossed her arms, visibly hurt, but her gaze didn't waver. “You mean to tell me that all this time, all those moments we had—that they were just part of some fucking game with your buddies?” Her voice trembled slightly.
“No. It may have started that way, but it turned into something much deeper,” he pleaded, desperate to convey his truth. “I didn’t plan to fall for you. I didn’t plan on feeling this way at all. But once I did, I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought pushing you away would protect you from the truth.”
Y/n shook her head, her expression a blend of frustration and heartbreak. “You think pushing me away protects me? Minghao, it only pushes me into uncertainty. If you had just told me from the start, I could have chosen to stay or walk away. But now, you’ve just made everything ten times fucking worse.”
Feeling increasingly guilty he stepped closer, trying to bridge the distance he had created. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should have been honest with you. I never wanted to hurt you. The fear of losing you, it…” he trailed off, unsure how to articulate his feelings.
Y/n took a deep breath, her demeanor softening just a fraction. “You need to make a choice, Minghao. Either let me in, all the way, or please let me go. I.. uh, can’t handle this right now. I’ll try to give you a call in a few days or maybe see you around.”
The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, and Minghao realized that it was time to confront not only the truth of their beginning but also the reality of what was blossoming between them. He had been running from the idea of vulnerability for so long, but now faced with Y/n’s determination, he found just enough strength within himself to start breaking down the walls he had built. As he watched her walk away from him not turning back around like he wished she would have, for once, Minghao felt the stirrings of hope amidst his fear.
Day 8 - A Challenge
With Minghao’s words hanging in the air, Y/n found herself re-evaluating her feelings. She had initially wanted to leave him there on the street as a part of her past, but the connection they shared was stronger than she had anticipated. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want it to end after all, but she wasn’t willing to let him get away with tricking her so easily.
She decided on her own plan—something to throw him off his game truly in her own style just to get back at him, but only all in good fun. It was time to show Minghao that she wasn’t someone to be underestimated.
Y/n had gotten in contact with one of Minghao's friends, a guy named Jisoo whom she had met during their karaoke competition. After a quick chat filled with enthusiasm and laughter, she proposed the idea of entering a “Battle of the Bands”-style karaoke show hosted by her workplace for charity. Jisoo was immediately on board and even rallied a few more of their friends to join in. But Y/n made one thing clear: they absolutely couldn’t let Minghao in on the secret. This was her chance to catch him off guard.
In the following weeks, his friends practiced relentlessly. Y/n wasn't just aiming to win at work; she wanted to create an unforgettable evening, one that would leave Minghao in pure shock. They practiced their songs, and even designed matching outfits for the event—a whimsically themed performance that would be impossible to forget.
Finally, the night of the charity show arrived. The venue was filled with colorful lights and the buzz of excitement as coworkers and friends gathered, taking their seats for what promised to be a lively night. Y/n donned a not necessarily work appropriate dress that reflected the playful spirit of her prank and maybe to catch someone's eyes. She could already see Minghao mingling with some of his friends, his laughter filling the air, and she felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation flutter in her stomach.
As the show kicked off, the energy in the room was contagious. The first few acts were entertaining, but Y/n could barely focus. She was waiting for her moment to take the stage and introduce Minghao and the others who were waiting to humiliate their friend gathered backstage, the excitement was palpable. They could hear Minghao in the crowd, cheering loudly for the groups, and Y/n smiled to herself, knowing what was coming next.
When it was their turn to perform, Y/n’s heart raced. She walked onto the stage, focusing on the bright lights and the sea of faces staring back at her. She could spot Minghao in the crowd before she introduced him, watching his slightly puzzled but amused look on his face as he recognized members of his circle.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Y/n shouted into the microphone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, clinking their glasses and waving them in the air as the spotlight warmed her skin.
“I have a special surprise for you all this evening!” The anticipation in the room built up in waves as she paused for effect. “You won’t believe what I’ve been up to. If you haven’t already heard, I recently met someone!”
The crowd roared in excitement, whoops and claps echoing around the venue.
“Shocking, right? You might have seen him around the office. Can we get a spotlight on him?”
The beam of light swept through the crowd until it landed on Minghao, who looked around, momentarily startled.
“Everyone, meet Minghao!” Y/n continued, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We actually met at the coffee shop below the office. I was drowning in my mid-week project when he approached my table and asked me out on a date. I’ll admit, I was pretty hesitant at first. But he worked his charm on me.”
She smiled warmly, letting reminiscence wash over her. “We ended up going out a few times after that, but just a few nights ago, he let me in on a little secret—it was all a bet set up by these guys right here!”
Y/n dramatically pointed behind her at a group of men clad in glittery outfits, their faces a mix of embarrassment and amusement as they realized they’d been called out. Laughter erupted once again, and Minghao could only shake his head, a smirk on his lips as the crowd carried on, fully entertained by the unfolding story.
The laughter from the crowd soared, and Y/n could see Minghao’s face shifting from amusement to slight embarrassment when a man behind him yelled up to the stage. “A bet? Seriously?” he called out.
“Yes. You heard that right.” Y/n responded, leaning into the microphone as she theatrically rolled her eyes, embracing the absurdity of it all. “Turns out, my romantic escapades were all part of some grand scheme these guys made up.”
The men behind her chuckled sheepishly, with one of them, a tall guy with a dazzling smile, shouting playfully, “In our defense, we thought it was a great idea. Including Minghao.”
“Oh, it definitely was,” Y/n replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the great dates,you guys. I had no idea I was part of a reality show, I watch them enough you’d think I’d catch on.” She paused for comedic effect, letting the laughter settle before leaning closer to the audience, her tone more serious. “You know, honestly, Minghao surprised me in ways I never expected.”
She glanced over at Minghao, whose cheeks were slightly flushed under the spotlight but wore a sincere smile. “I was a bit hesitant at first, sure. But then we really connected. And who would have guessed that the guy who interrupted my focused day with a charming smile would become someone so special?”
Cheers erupted from the crowd again, and Y/n took a deep breath, enticing them with what was coming next.
“And, since we’re being honest here,” she continued, teasingly leaning into her role as the narrator of this unfolding tale, “I feel like we need to make Minghao work just a little for his redemption. No?” The audience murmured in excitement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve arranged a little surprise for him tonight,” Y/n said, gesturing to the side of the stage. “Minghao, my friend, you've got just one more challenge ahead of you.”
Out of nowhere, a karaoke microphone was handed to Minghao from his left side and the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter again. Minghao held it awkwardly, glancing at Y/n with a mix of uncertainty and delight.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, genuinely confused but slightly intrigued.
“You’re going to sing! Duh. Don’t be dumb,” Y/n declared, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “The audience deserves to see what they’re in for. Plus, it’s only fair after that little trick you pulled. You’re going to serenade us all.”
Minghao let out a laugh, his initial shock transforming into acceptance. The crowd erupted once again, chanting, “Minghao! Minghao!”
Feeling the energy in the room, Minghao stepped forward, climbing up the stairs with a new light in his eyes. “Alright then, I guess I have no choice but to give the audience what they want!” He took a deep breath and gazed at Y/n one last time before launching into a fun, upbeat song that brought everyone to their feet.
As he sang, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection. Despite the insane circumstances that brought them together, there was something genuine unfolding between them, amplified by the shared laughter and excitement of the evening.
With each note, Minghao seemed to shed any lingering nerves, pouring his heart out into the music. The audience was enthralled, dancing and singing along, swept up in the joy of the moment. Y/n found herself cheering louder than anyone else, her laughter mingling with his infectious energy.
And maybe, just maybe, she thought as she watched him shine on stage, this night was the perfect reminder that sometimes the best stories come from the unexpected. It wasn’t just about the twists and turns of their initial meeting; it was about the connections forged when they embraced things together. As Minghao finished with a flourish, the crowd erupted into applause, and Y/n couldn't help but wonder how many more surprises awaited them on this journey.
Day 9 - A Change of Heart
Determined to make a last-ditch effort to win her back, Minghao doubled down on his resolve. He sent her a series of texts brimming with encouragement, recounting the fun they’d had the night before. “I never imagined I’d be up on stage like that, but it was totally worth it,” he wrote, his fingers flying across the screen. “You have this incredible way of bringing out the best and most ridiculous in people. I genuinely had a good time, especially seeing those fuckers in glitter pants.”
He poured his heart into his messages, sharing how her laughter had ignited a spark within him, and how getting to know her was quickly becoming the highlight of his life. “You made me feel brave, even while I was totally making a fool of myself,” he typed with a grin, imagining her laughter echoing in his ears. “And honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing about it. You’re amazing, Y/n.”
As the hours passed without a response, doubts started to creep into his mind. Had he gone too far with the whole bet thing? Would she take his lighthearted texts as desperation? But he couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing there was something real between them.. So, he gathered his courage and decided to call.
When Y/n picked up the phone, her voice sounded bright but cautious. “Hey, Minghao. What’s up?”
“Y/n, Hi I don’t know if you saw my texts, you’re probably busy, but I just wanted to check in after last night,” he replied, his heart racing. “I hope you’re still not too mad at me for the bet thing. I promise I didn’t mean for it to be a setup. I actually really enjoyed being with you."
There was a momentary silence, and he held his breath, waiting for her response. “I’m not mad,” she finally said, her tone softening. “I thought it was an interesting twist, honestly. You had me laughing for hours after I got over it a little bit and after talking to your friends. But I just… didn’t want to feel like I was part of some game.”
“I totally understand,” he said quickly, wanting to assure her. “I’m really sorry for how it started. But I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. I liked who I was with you last night and every night really , and I want to get to know you better—like, for real, not as a bet.”
Y/n paused again, and he could almost hear her contemplating his words. “You mean that?”
“Absolutely,” Minghao responded, feeling more confident. “I know we started under unusual circumstances, but every moment I’ve spent with you has felt real. You bring out a side of me I didn’t really know I had, and I really love who I am when I’m with you. So, what do you say? Can we start over?”
He could hear her take a deep breath from the other end, and his heart raced in anticipation. “Okay, let’s do that,” she finally said, her voice brightening. “But let’s be clear the only bets this time will be on actual games, not people's feelings”
Minghao laughed, relief washing over him. “Deal. Just me trying to impress you from now on.”
“You already have, that was your promise from the start and you followed through.”
As they chatted and made plans for their next outing—a casual coffee date, just like they first met no strings attached—Minghao felt a renewed sense of hope. He was determined to show her that he was sincere, that the bet was just a silly beginning to what he hoped would be a beautiful journey together.
After they hung up, Minghao couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t just about winning her back; it was about starting anew, embracing the possibility of a real thing. And as excitement bubbled in his chest, he began to plan how he could make their next date unforgettable. After all, if Y/n could turn a wild bet into a night filled with laughter, he was ready to dive in and see where this newfound adventure would take them both.
Day 10 - The Second First Date.
As the days crept closer to their date, Minghao found himself overrun with excitement and nerves. He wanted everything to be perfect. Standing in front of his closet, he debated over his wardrobe, tossing shirts onto the bed haphazardly. He could feel the pressure mounting the stakes felt higher this time—not just because he was going to see Y/n again, but because he wanted her to see him as more than just that guy than a guy who bet on her feelings.
Eventually, he settled on a casual but stylish outfit, one that he felt confident in. Being genuine was the goal, after all, and he didn’t want to put on a facade. Just before he headed out the door, he glanced in the mirror, giving himself a final pep talk. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”
At the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the chatter of customers. Minghao arrived early, pacing a bit with anticipation. He chose the same cozy corner table her first noticed her at, where they’d have some privacy but still be part of the lively atmosphere.
When Y/n walked in, his heart skipped a beat. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair cascading over her shoulders and a warm smile lighting up her face. She spotted him, her eyes sparkling with familiarity, and his nervousness began to fade away as she approached.
“Hi, nice to meet you, you’re Minghao right?” she greeted, her voice filled with warmth.
“Hey, yeah. I’m glad you made it,” Minghao replied, standing to greet her. They exchanged a brief hug, and it felt surprisingly comfortable.
As they settled into their seats with steaming cups of coffee in hand, the conversation flowed naturally, as if they’d never left off. They chatted about everything their favorite shows, upcoming plans, and the ridiculous things they’d seen online lately. Laughter punctuated their discussion, the kind that made the world around them feel distant.
At one point, Y/n playfully leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, tell me—what’s your strategy for impressing me today? More dance moves? Karaoke?”
Minghao laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Let’s save the dancing for another time. I’m still trying to recover from the last performance,” he said with a smirk. “But I promise I have a few tricks up my sleeve—nothing too embarrassing.”
“Just promise me no more betting, I’m out of chips for now.” she said, stern but unable to hide her smile.
“Cross my heart,” he promised dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “From here on out, it’s just me and you having honest and genuine fun.”
Their coffees had transformed into connection, a beautiful blend of camaraderie and flirtation. As they moved towards dessert, Minghao felt a spark growing between them.
With a playful glint in his eye, he decided to take a leap. “So, if we’re doing this—like, seeing where it goes, how about I take you on a mini-adventure next time? Something a little less…traditional?”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, “And what exactly does that entail? You are not talking about hiking, or something like that right? I would kill you.”
“A little scavenger hunt around the city?” he suggested, warming to the idea. “We could visit all the spots we love, and maybe even some new places. Get ice cream, take pictures, and just enjoy the day.”
Her face lit up with enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing. I love it.”
Seeing her excitement filled him with joy; this felt right. With their coffee date unfolding so smoothly, he was beginning to understand that this was not just about rekindling a spark but about building something new.
As they wrapped up, Minghao walked her to her car, and the atmosphere felt electric. Before saying goodbye, he couldn’t resist leaning in slightly. “If I promise to make each outing better than the last, will you promise to keep coming back?”
Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I think I can manage that, if you also kiss me” she replied, her smile brightening the evening.
With a renewed sense of hope, Minghao pulled her in from her waist kissing her multiple times before backing up slightly and letting her get into the driver's seat, she rolled down the window and wagged her finger at him for one more kiss, and then he watched her drive away, heart brimming with anticipation. He was ready to dive into this adventure, ready to explore whatever lay ahead with Y/n by his side. Their story was only just beginning, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like everything was falling into place.
Epilogue
The days that followed were an exciting blur of planning and anticipation. Minghao found himself digging into his old notebooks, jotting down ideas for the scavenger hunt, trying to think of all the little things that made their city special. He wanted to weave in personal touches that would make the day unforgettable for Y/n—places that could bring back memories of their first date or spots he knew would make her full of joy when he revealed them.
With each idea, he found he was not just planning an outing but also crafting an experience centered around her, and this realization filled him with a sense of purpose. He’d always believed that little moments could mean everything, and now he was eager to show Y/n just how much he cherished their new relationship.
When the day of the scavenger hunt arrived, Minghao woke up with a mix of nerves and excitement. He’d set everything in motion, and now all he needed to do was let the day unfold naturally. He picked a comfortable outfit—something relaxed but still appealing—and made his way to the meeting spot they had agreed on: a park that was alive with the sounds of laughter, children playing, and the distant strumming of a guitarist.
As he waited, he felt a buzz of anticipation in the air around him. The moment he spotted Y/n walking towards him, his heart soared. She looked radiant, her hair dancing in the breeze, and her smile lit up the entire park.
“Hey, you.” she greeted, a lilt in her voice that made him grin wider.
“Ready for a little adventure?” he asked, trying to mask the excitement bubbling beneath his calm exterior.
“Absolutely. Just tell me what we’re doing,” she replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“First off, we have to get our scavenger hunt gear,” he said, pulling out a small tote bag he had packed. Inside were colored pencils,a camera for taking photos at each stop, a notebook for jotting down clues, and a list of locations they'd be visiting.
“What’s all this?” she laughed, peering inside with delight.
“Just some supplies to help us document our adventure” Minghao said cheerily. “The first stop is that little coffee stand we found last week, where they have the pastries.”
With a shared laugh and playful banter, they made their way through the park, stopping for pictures at every significant spot—an old oak tree where they took selfies, a fountain that they threw pennies in while making a wish, and a mural that had caught Minghao’s eye during their last outing. The connection between them deepened as they shared stories, memories, and more feelings than ever. As they reached the coffee stand, Minghao took a moment to watch her as she chose her pastry. She had a way of illuminating the boring everyday things, and he felt grateful every time she shot him a smile. After they got their treats, he pulled out the next clue.
“Okay, next up,” he said with excitement, glancing down at the list he had created. “We have to find the spot where they sell the best ice cream in town. But there’s a catch—you have to lead the way.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Me? Alright.. This should be interesting.”
With her leading the way, they began to navigate the streets, stopping to chat with street performers and peeking into quirky shops. As they reached the ice cream parlor, the enticing scent of waffle cones met them, and they quickly placed their orders.
“That is definitely a win,” Minghao said, savoring the first bite of his matcha chocolate chip. He looked over to see Y/n’s eyes light up with delight as she tasted her basic but cute vanilla with sprinkles.
As they sat outside, sharing stories about their favorite childhood flavors, Minghao felt a warmth spreading in his chest. Each moment they shared layered on a sense of intimacy, deepening their bond.
The rest of the day continued in this delightful fashion, each stop on the scavenger hunt bringing them closer together, transforming their connection into something rooted in genuine affection. The final clue led them to an overlook, a perfect sunset view of the city sprawled out before them.
As they stood side by side, overlooking the vibrant hues of orange and pink washed across the sky, Minghao turned to her, feeling the weight of the moment.
“I’m really glad I took this leap,” he said, his voice sincere. “Today has been incredible. You make everything better, including me.”
Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I feel the same way. This day has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time. Really, thank you.”
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, he could feel the pull toward her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle yet tender kiss. It was a clear promise of what was to come—not just in this moment, but in all the moments yet to unfold.
Standing there, as the last light of day faded into twilight, Minghao felt a newfound certainty settle within him. This was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure with Y/n, and he was ready to explore every twist and turn that life had to offer together.
Minghao had set out to lose a girl in ten days but instead found something he never expected: a genuine connection. As he and y/n embarked on their new adventure as one and they both realized that sometimes love sneaks up on you when you least expect it, and sometimes, the risks of opening your heart are worth every moment.
#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#svt reactions#seventeen imagines#svt fic#svt texts#seventeen thoughts#seventeen series#seventeen fic#seventeen x oc#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x carat#svt x y/n#svt x reader#svt x you#svt x oc#svt fluff#svt fanfic#svt ff#svt fake texts#svt drabbles#svt imagines#svt smut#svt aesthetic#minghao x reader#minghao x you#minghao x y/n
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lonely
Azriel x fem!Archeron!reader
SUMMARY: Reader, the second Archeron sister, finds herself overwhelmed by the sight of her sisters in their respective happinesses one day. Luckily Azriel stops by her room in time to comfort her.
WARNINGS: feelings of loneliness (real), fluff, Azriel being hot (that’s a given), slight suggestiveness at the end, first time writing
NOTE: hey, i’m diri! been sort of a silent spectator on this tag for a while but then i wrote this and thought hell why not!!
WORDS: 2.5k
main masterlist PART 2
•••
The emptiness of loneliness burned hollowly in my chest, blooming when I entered my room at last, stumbled onto my bed.
Pathetically, I just wanted what my sisters had. I didn't dare show it, but I ached to be held, loved, to love fiercely and be happily, healthily devoted to someone.
I wanted to be touched and adored. I wanted to build a life with someone. To not have to look, wish, hope, or dream about it anymore.
My knees curled up under my chin as I sat there in the nest of my bedding, looking blankly at the wall as the tears came.
I hadn't realized that I had been softly weeping until the knock came to my door. Fuck. I heard his soft, beautiful voice announcing himself, asking to come in.
When I don't reply, frozen in terror that he'll come in and see me in this state, Azriel calls my name again in question. I know he can sense me behind the door, and when I sniff, he calls lowly, "I'm coming in."
Panic sweeps through me as he pushes open the door, eyes falling on me in concern as I wipe at my face. The book he borrowed from me goes from his hand to a side table as he comes to me, forgotten. "Hey. Hey, what's going on?" he asks with the softest tenderness I've ever heard him speak. To know that it was reserved for me makes my chest ache for it even more, and another little sob slips from me. He sits on my bed and reaches for me, hands going to my arms and rubbing up and down.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, shaking my head and trying to draw back and wipe my face. He doesn’t release me.
“No,” he says firmly, squeezing my arms. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong. Let me help you.”
I shake my head again, can’t seem to stop, trying to wave him off. “It’s not something you can help with,” I rasp. “It’s my own shit, I’ll deal with it—“
“Tell me what’s going on.” His tone brooks no argument.
I can’t speak for a long moment, for several long moments. The words are embarrassing, stuck like molasses on my tongue. To say them would be to humiliate myself. But he isn’t relenting. I realize that five hundred years of extracting information from people as spymaster had made him patient in a way I could never outpace.
“It’s just hard,” I finally settle on, not quite processing my own words. “It’s hard seeing them—my sisters, I mean. Sorry, I think I’m just tired, out of it—“ He shakes his head with a squeeze of my arms.
“Stop trying to excuse your feelings. It’s merely how you feel,” he murmurs, watching me carefully. A breath puffs uncomfortably in my chest, but I go on.
“I’ve always made myself content in the fact that something like that didn’t really happen to people like me. I’ve never known why,” I rasp, the color finally rising in my cheeks as I gear up to admit, “But I’m—“ I choke. “I just see them and I feel so lonely.”
His expression shutters and his eyes soften. “Sweetheart,” he whispers, stroking my arms. To hear that word from his lips is already a shock, but knowing it’s directed at me makes me fall apart more.
“I’m not one for self pity, ever,” I get out as another cry raises the pitch of my voice. “I just feel so alone.”
A huff of a sigh leaves Azriel’s lips and he draws me forward. “Come here.”
My breath shudders in my chest as I try not to lose it, try to calm myself as the tears stream hotly down my face. “I’m sorry,” I whisper again. “I feel ridiculous. It just hurts sometimes. Right here.” I rub my chest where the hollow ache is.
He hums and soon I’m in his arms. He gently scoops me onto his lap and tucks my head into the crook of his neck. He’s so warm, so strong, and smells so good that I shudder again and let myself break in his embrace.
His hushing and stroking over my hair lulls me as every bad feeling seeps out of my body. He holds me quietly until my crying ceases, until my shaking stills. Until I am merely breathing tiredly against him.
I could fall asleep like this, could die peacefully here. His hand strokes my hair again. “Feel better?” he asks, his voice a quiet rumble that rumbles in his chest, therefore mine.
I blush profusely at how ridiculous I’m being, but make no move. I nod. I can’t move, can’t look at him. I must be the silliest, most ridiculous woman—female, I correct mentally—at my age that he’s ever seen. He’s centuries old and has a better grip on things than I do. I know he feels bad for me, but any respect he had before must have loosened considerably in the minutes he’s seen me in this state.
As I’m trying to overcome my embarrassment, he strokes my hair softly and begins on a murmur, “I get this way too. I feel it right in my chest, like you said. I have for a long time.” I don’t dare breathe or move. He’s revealing very vulnerable feelings and I fear one move will scare him off. He sighs. “It is difficult—seeing everyone pair off and be happy. Just as difficult to see my brothers as it is for you to see your sisters that way. But you aren’t alone. You’re never alone.”
I sigh, whispering haltingly, “I know. But—it isn’t the same, is it?”
He shakes his head. “It isn’t,” he concedes, “But you shouldn’t doubt that you’ll find that. You’re more than deserving of it.”
A little flutter in my chest, and of all things, a smile blooms on my face. “You are too, Azriel.”
I feel his smile against my hair.
I sigh and draw away even as my body screams in argument, not looking him completely in the eye. “I really am sorry. For—this.” I gesture nonsensically between us, eyeing the wet stain at the collar of his shirt with a small wince. “I really am not usually like this,” I grumble.
His soft chuckle draws my eyes to his face, and I find him looking down at me softly, amusedly. “I know. You’re usually very formidable, self-assured. It was a surprise to see you so…” I raise my brows as he searches for the word, something he usually never has to. “Weighed down,” he settles on.
I don’t know what to say. I settle on a small shrug of my shoulder as I take my sleeve and wipe my face again, sighing as a calm settles over me again.
When I glance back over at him, he’s still observing me quietly. “What?” I croak.
“Nothing,” he says softly with a shrewd yet not unkind look in his eye. “It’s just funny.” I frown, but he continues on before I can interrupt. “You give yourself a private moment to let it out, then you reset. Like nothing happened.”
I feel a heat in my face at the accuracy.
“It’s funny because, well,” he shrugs, “It reminds me of myself.”
I glance warily over him with questioning tilt of my head. “You don’t seem like the type to deal in self-pity. Or crying at all for that matter,” I reply wryly.
His lip curls in amusement, and something hot curls in my stomach at the sight of it. My expression remains carefully composed, as it always is. “I have my moments,” is all he says.
I roll my eyes, shifting on the bed and sniffing. “Cryptic as always too.”
His laugh is quiet yet rumbling, and even though we don’t touch anymore, I feel the sound tumble deliciously through my muscles and bones, all over my body. “There she is,” he practically drawls, mirth lighting his hazel eyes. Cauldron bloody boil me.
Then he softens again. “But know that anytime you feel like this, you don’t need to wait for a private moment to yourself. Come talk to me,” he offers. Tingling warmth blooms in my chest. In my handful of years since turning fae and finding my place in Velaris, he’s been a kind but somewhat infrequent friend due to his busy nature. “What you feel isn’t anything to be ashamed of, and I’d rather you not bottle it all up.”
I eye the impenetrable Spymaster again, brow raised. “Bit of the pot calling the kettle black, aren’t you?”
He laughs in earnest now, and I watch in wonder as it lightens his features. And again that sound—
I’d been careful not to let my foolish mind not delve too deep in daydreaming about the silent, beautiful specter I had met in my house in the human lands those years ago. Everything about the fae then and even now had just seemed so elevated above my little life. And as hard as I worked, as skilled as I had become with my new body and abilities, I still felt like a complete novice, like a schoolgirl amongst grown men and women most days.
So no. I would not be the fool that fell for the male way above her very modest level, not when I knew he’d be too nice about it, and make me feel even more like the fool.
“What are you thinking about?” his voice breaks through my reverie. He’s eyeing me with amusement now, and a hint of fondness.
I force the heat creeping to my cheeks way down within the depths of myself, determined not to make more of a fool of myself than I already have. “Just wondering why you came in here. I wasn’t—“ A blush rises to my cheeks in earnest now. “You couldn’t hear me crying from the hall, could you?”
He shakes his head, hands creeping forward over my bedspread as though to placate me. “No, no. I just came to return the book you let me borrow,” he replies gently, and again my eyes fall to the book he had dropped on the table near my door as he came in to comfort me. Oh. Right. “You were right. I did like it.”
A small smile creeps up on my lips. “Of course I was right.” He chuckles again, and I relish that I can make him do so.
“Will it inflate your ego terribly if I tell you that you have surprisingly good taste?” he drawls. I let out a playfully indignant noise and gently shove his shoulder.
“Says you. You may be quiet, Shadowsinger, but don’t think I haven’t noticed you peacocking more than once,” I toss back. He draws closer with a little grin. Holy fuck.
“Well when I’m as talented as I am, why shouldn’t I?” he purrs, the most Rhys-like I’d ever seen him. I hold onto my composure for dear life.
“Yeah, well, you can take your peacocking and incredible talent off my bed and out of my room,” I retort with a scowl, shooing him as I fight blushing like a schoolgirl. He laughs, but slides smoothly off my bed and stands, hands raised in mock surrender.
I realize then that he had taken me from my depressive state, comforted me until I calmed, then goaded me until I smiled and bantered with him again.
His eyes go from mirthful to soft, and a beat passes where he’s looking down at me still sitting on my bed, and me at him. His lips quirk. “I’m glad you’re alright. Come to me with anything. I mean it,” he reiterates with gentle firmness. I nod my head.
He begins to leave, but I blurt his name and he halts. As soon as he looks at me again, I murmur, “Thank you.” He nods his head once, eyes kind.
I expect him to turn, to leave. But he steps toward me. I still as his hands gently hold the sides of my head, and he drops a single kiss to my hairline. I don’t move or breathe until he leaves the room with one last look at me over his shoulder.
My door snicks shut and a rush of breath leaves my mouth as my hands fly up to my face. My back finds the duvet.
I was fucked.
—
Azriel walks leisurely down the hall from her room back to his once more, musing on the hour that had just passed in her room.
He’d always found the second Archeron sister to be the most interesting female he’d ever met.
Clever, strong, funny. Beautiful, absolutely, in her own way. She was interesting to look at—that counted far more than conventionally beautiful.
The kind of person you don’t let get away.
He’d have to play this carefully. Had he had thoughts these past two-three years about the fact that they were both the remaining unmated ones of their respective sibling units? Yes. But he knew that even as it drew the two of them together in a careful dance around the line, it could also end very poorly if that was the only assumed reason that he wanted her.
Which it wasn’t.
Sometimes he curses that of his brothers, he hadn’t met her first. He could have, should have wooed her. Then, at least he could be enjoying the same felicity his damned brothers were currently enjoying with two of her sisters.
But she’s proving to be a tough one to crack.
It was no matter, he decides. He hadn’t failed to notice at least some attraction on her part. But she brushes off most things with a clever joke, much to his frustration.
Tonight had been a step forward. Even as it had killed him to see her in such a state, he thanked every bit of fate that led him to her room as she had been breaking.
So he could be the one to hold her, put her pieces back together.
He could have held her in his arms, in his lap until the day he died.
But he knew getting her to come back out, to grin and tease him again was more important than his selfish desires. And gods, what a sight she was when she did.
It was no matter, he thinks to himself again. He’d be patient. He’d be the person she’d lean on until he could make her want him. Maybe she’d allow him to touch her in the way he envisioned in his most needy moments in the dark of night. He enters his bedroom and sighs.
Fuck. It might be another one of those nights after all.
•••
NOTE: hey so uhhh if literally anyone cares i’ll make a part 2
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Haymitch Abernathy & The Dead Donner Girl
Summary: Haymitch is forced to mentor the niece of his former ally, aka the prequel to all things Moves & Countermoves. (Warning: Sunrise on the Reaping spoilers.)
Ghosts are real, Haymitch knows this to be true the first time he catches a glimpse of the Mayor’s youngest daughter. Madge Undersee is a spitting image of her Aunt, Maysilee Donner. It ruins the rest of his day. His month really, or year, maybe even his life, but who’s counting.
The image of Y/N Undersee peeling off that same little girl’s desperate hands, after her name is called at the reaping, will haunt him now too.
“Madge pie, I have to go now.” Y/N tries to reason with her, but Madge only wails louder.
Eventually Mayor Undersee comes to collect her, giving his eldest daughter a pat on the cheek. “We’ll sort this out, don’t you worry.”
Y/N does not worry. Making her way to the stage with her head held high.
Just like Maysilee.
The male tribute Tyson, joins her there shortly after.
“This year’s tributes from District Twelve, Y/N Undersee and Tyson Carell.”
Fifteen and Seventeen, the mayor’s kid and a boy from the seam. What a pair they make.
————————————————————————
Haymitch is allowed half an hour of solace before those damn kids are pounding down his door. The gentle rocking of the train temps him with the promise of sleep. But they just keep knocking until he has no choice but to answer. “Are your hands bleeding yet?”
“You’re supposed to be our mentor,” Tyson reminds him.
“That I am.” Haymitch cocks his head to the side.
“Yeah, generally speaking that means you’re supposed to be with us.” The girl’s voice is grading, harsh against his ears.
“If you need to be mentored on how to sit on a train, you’re never going to last in the games.” Haymitch retorts, “come back and bother me tomorrow once we’re in the Capitol. Maybe I’ll have something useful for you then.”
The door slams in their faces as quickly as it opened.
“Alright,” Tyson laughs, “he’s an ass.”
“Mhm,” Y/N hums her agreement.
————————————————————————
They don’t bother with their would be mentor again, electing to band together instead. Between the two of them, Y/N and Tyson decide that he should ask most of the questions.
“Don’t take it personally.” Tyson says, chowing down on his plate of hastily arranged treats. “Not everyone is gonna like you.”
“You should try the purple pastries.” She tells her partner, “they’re the best.”
“I almost forgot,” he grumbles, around a mouthful of food. “You get to eat like this all the time.”
“Not all the time.” Y/N lifts a shoulder. “Only on special occasions.”
“If I win, I’m eating these every day.” Tyson decides after his first bite.
Y/N huffs a laugh.
“I’m taking you with me to the end, of course.”
“Because I recommend the pastry?”
Tyson nods, “proves you have good taste. Plus, you’re the Mayor’s kid, gives you some pull in the Capitol. Could get us sponsors.”
“It could.” Being the Mayor’s kid didn’t spare her from the reaping.
“We should make a list of our strengths and weaknesses.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Anything off the top of your head? Any secret talents? Things you’re afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything,” Y/N replies. “But I can juggle. How about you?”
“I’m afraid of being eaten alive.” Tyson ticks a finger against his lips, “as for talents, I can do cartwheels.”
“Cool.”
“So if you die and I win this thing, who am I looking after back home for you?” He does not beat around the bush; never has. Even if it cost him a friend or two.
Y/N sinks further into her chair, “my sister. Her name’s Madge.”
“What about your folks?” Tyson arches a dark brow.
“My dad will be alright, it’s my mom I worry about.” She’s been through alot. ‘Family business’ which Y/N is forbidden to speak of. Not that it matters now.
“Why?”
“My mom had twin sisters. One died in the games, the other-” Aunt Merrilee couldn’t stand her own reflection after that. The grief got her. “She died of a broken heart.” That’s the polite way of saying it. “My mom started taking morphling after. The doctors said it would help, most days she can’t get out of bed.” If I die, the last of the Donner sisters may follow.
“Well if you win, I’ve got a long list of requests.” Tyson has twelve younger siblings.
Haymitch joins them sometime later, making for the toast and jam.
“Saved some for you.” Tyson jerks his chin toward the breakfast spread.
“How kind,” Haymitch grumbles.
————————————————————————
Y/N’s stylist takes a real liking to dressing her in one of a kind pieces.
“You’re my muse.” Unlike most, Vanity, with her skin painted gold and a pastel green wig, fusses over her tribute.
She welcomes the girl’s suggestions, putting a new spin on tired Capitol fashion.
Haymitch drinks, occasionally chiming in to correct Y/N and Tyson in their planning, but for the most part they are left largely alone. Scoring seven and eight respectively, admirable numbers for twelve.
It’s not until the night before their interviews that the girl finally snaps at him.
“Relax, Y/N.” Tyson rolls his eyes, “he’s just being an ass again.”
Haymitch, as usual, does not spare a glance in her direction.
“Stop acting like a child and look at me!” Her words echo through their floor of the tribute center.
“I don’t want to look at you!” Haymitch scoffs, “I look at you and all I see is another dead Donner girl. I don’t want any more of your blood on my hands.” From Maysilee in the arena, to Merrilee who took her own life a few years later. Maybe if he hadn’t called her Maysilee that day while he was losing his mind… Now Y/N will join them, in a sea of crimson he will never be free of.
“I-” the girl’s cheeks heat up, from anguish or rage, she herself is not sure. “I’m not a Donner girl. I’m an Undersee.”
Haymitch grunts, still averting his eyes.
“And if I really am gonna be dead in a few days, that was a shitty thing to say.”
“What do you want from me, girl?”
“I want you to help us!”
“Help you?” Haymitch downs his glass, “I can’t help you.” He already is, as much as he can. Not for the girl standing before him, but for the girl who isn’t. The girl he’s reminded of each time he sees the locket around her niece’s neck. He’s pulling sponsors as best he can for Maysilee. In her honor. That’s all he can do.
“You’re the only one outside the arena who can.” Y/N challenges, “it’d do you well to remember that.”
Haymitch doesn’t want to remember, he drinks to forget.
————————————————————————
As the lights of the hovercraft transporting his tributes to the arena disappear from view, Haymitch is finally able to breathe again. To think and compose himself now that he is no longer face to face with the dead Donner girl.
She exists only on the giant screen of the viewing room, somehow she is easier to stomach this way. No chance she might reach out and drag him back to his own personal hell.
But time proves him wrong, this is hell. Waiting to watch the Donner girl die. There is no way she’ll live, even with sponsors lining up, money in hand. If money could buy her freedom, she’d never have set foot in the arena.
The bloodbath is over. Tyson takes Y/N and runs, in search of water and high ground. Maybe if they’re lucky, some shelter from the boiling sun.
The landscape is full of sandy dunes and rock, no visible water source and absolutely no shade. The arena’s ceiling is visible to the naked eye, which hasn’t happened in years. Meaning the border must be significant, though Haymitch can’t yet say why.
That is until the next day, when the arena flips on its head, funneling the remaining tributes through a narrow opening to the other side. It’s an hourglass, one that is slowly filling with sand.
————————————————————————
Like clockwork, the hourglass flips. Several tributes are lost in the transition, suffocating beneath the sand. As they regain their bearings, Y/N and Tyson find themselves beside a pile of sand towering high enough to block most of the artificial sun.
“What’d you think? Should we climb it?” Tyson asks his district partner, teasingly.
She is two years his junior, still not an idiot. This is no hiking expedition. “No, we should save our strength, like Haymitch said.”
“Did you know the tallest mountain in the world was called Mount Everest? Before the founding of our great nation?” He presses on, largely ignoring Y/N’s sage advice.
“What do they call it now?” She wonders.
“Trick question; tallest mountain in the world was actually Mauna Kea.”
“Now’s a bad time for trivia.” Y/N decides, a hand at her brow.
“It’s the only time we’ve got.”
————————————————————————
Parachutes provide most food and water. With only a small desert lake resembling a mirage to drink from, and passing seagulls for sustenance.
Seven tributes remain when the mutts are released. Long, fat worms with horrible teeth, designed to blend in with the sand. Burrowing beneath the skin and leaching blood from their hosts.
The cannon sounds four times in quick succession, only three tributes left as the hourglass turns. Dumping them onto a thin layer of sand, it continues raining down over them. They’ve run out of time.
The shift twists Tyson’s leg at an unnatural angle, snapping the bones.
“Ahhh!”
Y/N carefully assess the damage.
“It’s bad,” Tyson says, through gritted teeth. “I can’t walk.”
“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “I’ll find something and make a splint. You’re fine.”
“Y/N, there’s nothing here.” He pants out, fighting the urge to faint.
In some sick way it is for the best, fate has decided for them. He would never be able to kill this girl, anymore than she could kill him. Not after days spent halving their food to keep two bellies half full. No, he could not harm a hair on her head.
“Then I’ll-”
Rex must be out there, searching for them. They need to act fast.
“You have to keep going.”
“No,” Y/N argues. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can, you’re not afraid of anything, remember?” The boy smiles, despite his agony.
“I lied,” Y/N confesses. “I’m scared of being alone.”
“You won’t be alone, I’m right here and everyone back home is with you, Everyone is here, chanting your name. You won’t be alone.”
“Ok,” Y/N whispers, starting up the dune on shaky legs.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” It is silly, but somehow it helps.
The worms are closing in but the compact sand pile seems to derail them. Y/N is thankfully spared the higher she climbs.
Tyson is chopping at the creatures with his axe, keeping them from latching onto his leg despite their best efforts. Perhaps they smell all the blood.
Rex uses the distraction to make a run for the top. He doesn’t bother with the boy from twelve, he won’t last long in this condition. At present, the girl is his biggest threat, and Rex will damned if he spent the better part of his life training only to be bested by a girl from the poorest district in Panem.
“Y/N, look out!” Tyson calls.
She hears the sickening squelch of his axe land in Rex’s back before she has a chance to look at all. “Tyson!” She knows full well it was his last line of defense against the mutts.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Her partner remarks, hauling his mangled leg up the grainy hill.
The boy from one is not willing to wait, he’s out for blood. His chest rattles with each breath, and droplets of red begin to leak from the corners of his mouth. Still he draws his dagger, pointed at Y/N. “Ladies first.”
Her first instinct is to run, but with the arena nearly full and the worms below, she is out of good options. She draws her weapon.
Rex lunges for Y/N, knocking her backwards and landing on top. A cloud of dust blooms out, blinding them both, his dagger lost in the tussle.
She continues swinging at him with her knife until it finally connects with his right hand; slicing off his index, middle and ring fingers, in one clean stroke.
The severed digits land against her chest, weighing her down as the boy looks to his mangled hand in horror.
Y/N’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry.”
Tyson yells. “Don’t stop!” Despite his injuries, he’s clawing his way up to avoid the mutts below.
“Please, I’m sorry.” Y/N sobs. For whatever she’s done to deserve this. Sorry to Rex, and the other tributes, to her family and her district. Sorry to Tyson most of all. “I’m sorry.”
Rex wraps his good hand around her throat.
“Y/N, fight! Do it now.”
Her broken body screams in protest. Sheer adrenaline drives the knife into the side of his neck. His blood burns her sun blistered skin. “I’m sorry.”
Rex grabs for his injury, tumbling down the pile of sand. His cannon sounds before he hits the ground.
Any way you spin it, District Twelve just won the games.
Tyson has finally made his way up to collapse beside her. He’s bleeding a lot more than she is. “We showed him, huh?” The boys chokes out. “Haymitch will have to eat his words.”
Y/N is not a Donner girl, said so herself.
“Tributes, please reclaim your weapons.” A disembodied voice, from the sky, demands.
“That’s alright. Can’t feel my hands.” He can’t feel the mutt latched onto him anymore either. He can’t feel anything at all. “But check out the view from up here.”
Y/N is in no position to heed either command. The too bright sun is going dark, her vision tunneling.
Tyson murmurs, “just like being at the top of Mount-”
Boom.
Everest.
The viewing room erupts into chaos as the winner of the sixtieth Hunger Games is announced. And the dead Donner girl lives to haunt him another day.
For you, sis. I saved her for you.
Part 2
#moves & countermoves#haymitch abernathy fanfic#haymitch abernathy x reader#haymitch abernathy#haymitch x reader#haymitch fanfic#hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games fanfiction#haymitch abernathy fanfiction#Haymitch Abernathy and the dead Donner girl
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Just a friend.

Summary: You both had agreed to see each other as just friends, but your feelings developed into something deeper.
Pairing: college!fwb!abby Anderson x reader
A/N: hello thank you for taking time to read ! , this is my first post I’m really excited so please give me feedback, also like and comment! They is just a test run sort of thing to see how it goes it’ll be maybe 3 parts to this !
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“I’ll be fine here, go!” You assumed Dina and Nora as you stood at the bar, they had dragged you out of your dorm for a night out but you wasn’t quite feeling it tonight.
You watched as your friends made their way through the pool of people, smiling at them as they danced with each other. You sipped on your drink as you watch not bothering to join them.
A voice from beside you caught your attention, prompting you to look over. And There stood Abby Anderson, the university's star soccer player. "You don’t dance?" she asked.
“No, I’m a horrible dancer.” When you turned to her, you noticed she was leaning in closer, allowing you to take in every detail of her face. She was captivating.
"I'm Abby," she said as she introduced herself. You chuckled softly and nodded, replying, "I know.”
"You know me, but I don't think I know you," she remarked, leaving you wishing you hadn't mentioned that you were familiar with her. "Just joking," she added.
“ I hope I didn’t come off as a stalker I think we share friends.” You added “im y/n.”
"I'm not opposed to having a stalker, especially if they look you," she said, her tone playful and soft. You could feel your cheeks burning as you went quiet, letting the loud music fill the space around you.
Abby sensed the sudden quietness and quickly found a way to redirect the conversation. “So these mutual friends with share, who are they?”
You mentioned the names of several people, and she instantly recognized the group when you said the first name, Ellie Williams.
“Why don't you ever come us when we hang out?" she asked, sipping her drink while keeping her gaze fixed on you.
"I'm usually tied up with work or school," you replied.
"That's too bad; I'd love to see you more often," she teased. "How about we study together sometime?"
"What do you think?" she asked, her voice dipping into a flirtatious tone as your eyes locked. You nodded in response.
"That sounds great," you murmured, just loud enough for her to catch over the booming music, your gaze drifting to her lips.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Abby pushed you against the icy metal of the car door, and as your lips moved perfectly in sync with hers, you realized you had left Dina and Nora behind without a word. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess; one moment you were exchanging flirtatious glances with Abby, and the next, she was pulling you out of the club, almost dragging you along.
The drive to Abby's, which should have taken just ten minutes, seemed to stretch on endlessly as you exchanged messy kisses at every red light. When you finally reached her apartment complex, you both rushed to get inside. You pressed kisses along her neck while she clumsily fumbled with her keys, eager to let you into her home.
You moaned, "Where's your room?" as she finally opened the door, nudging you inside and pressing her hips against your back.
"no room, I wanna fuck you right here on this counter." She murmured in your ear while her hands moved around you, quickly unbuttoning your jeans pulling them down from behind as she moved towards the counter lifting you up placing you on top.
Abby whispered, "pretty," as she slid your panties aside. You gasped loudly when she traced her tongue over your clit, then gently pulled it into her mouth. Your back arched off the counter, and you found yourself gripping a handful of her hair.
The sound of your moans echoed throughout the room as you sensed your hips starting to tense, signaling that your climax was near. “Not yet,” Abby said, rising up and pressing her lips against yours in a messy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.
You spread your legs wider, feeling her fingers at your entrance as you lock eyes with her. Abby thrusts into you, her two fingers stretching you, and you can't help but cry out, your nails digging into her shoulders.
Abby urged you, her breath warm against your lips, "look at me while I fuck you." As she quickened her rhythm, you matched her movements with your own. "Please, don’t stop," you pleaded, your voice filled with urgency and longing.
The moans grew louder as you reached your peak, your back lifted off the counter. Grasping Abby’s arm feeling your walls tighten around her fingers. Not holding back Abby thruster fasted into you as your body shook, your hand flying to cover your mouth as your chest moved up and down heavily.
Abby smirked as she brought her fingers, coated in your juices , up to your lips, gently tapping your jaw to signal you to open your mouth. As you complied, she slid her fingers inside, slowly pulling them while you savored your own taste.
Abby let out a soft moan as you pulled her into a kiss, and you swiftly hopped down from the counter, shifting your attention to the other woman above you, tugging at her pants. "it's your turn," you whispered, biting your lip in anticipation.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#wlw smut#the last of us#wlw#lesbian#abby anderson x you#abby anderson fanfic#tlou2#abby anderson smut#dina tlou#ellie williams
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Undeniable
(college friends, friends to lovers, dream dorms, sexual tension, creampie, oral sex, unprotected sex, pet names)
summary; The tension built up between y/n and Jaemin finally breaks when a hopeless y/n shows up at the Dreamies college dorm only to be welcomed by a shirtless irresistible Jaemin.
warnings; mature content MINORS DNI!
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The chemistry and sexual tension between you and Jaemin was undeniable. Your friends had started to catch up with the little looks exchanged between the both. Despite the evident sexual tension, you and Jaemin had never dared to make any sort of move. It was risky, you had been friends for over 7 years, it was risky to ruin the friendship and make things awkward for the rest of your friends.
“Y/n have you packed?” Haechan asked as you maintained silence lost in your own world. Questioning how you’d get through this getaway knowing that you’d hear Jaemin morning voice for a whole week! Full of pure temptation.
“Yeah I packed last night, I wanted to come in and check in with you guys about timing” being at the dorms was normal for you, you spent a lot of time at their dorms, yes a apartment full of men might seem outrageous but it was better then staying in your dorm and listening to your roommate argue with her boyfriend 24/7.
“This getaway is needed, midterms are finally over and we get a whole week off school” renjun whispered.
“Drinks, girls, parties, and good music sounds like a vibe to me… can’t remember the last time I hooked up with someone” Haechan’s horny ass was known to be passed around on campus, the man has the looks, charisma and confidence. It wasn’t a surprised to the to everyone when a random girl snuck out of the dorms mid night.
“Who knows maybe Y/N will finally hook up with someone” Haechan laughed.
“Unlike you i’m not a whore who sleeps with anyone” and its true the last time you hooked up with someone was a year ago right after your break up with Jaehyun. It didn’t feel right to have sex with just anyone. But one of the main reasons was your time spent at their dorms, men assumed that you were part of some orgy or that you were in a relationship with one of them.
“Starting sound like a bitch to me” Haechan giggled
“Alright you fucken whore sincen you want to talk all that shit I’ll prove it to you that im fuckable” you claimed, noticing Jaemin’s gaze from the corner of your eyes.
……………………………………………………………………………
Sleeping at your dorm seemed impossible considering the fact that your roommate continued to argue with her boyfriend through the phone. Not that it was the first time you had failed to fall asleep due to the noise, although most days you didn’t mind today was different, tomorrow would be long date of traveling to Busan and you didn’t want to be tired.
Grabbing your belongings and making your way to the guys dorm in hopes that the fuckers weren’t already in the gaming mode or asleep. The walk was short so carrying your bags wasn’t such a hassle.
Despite the 10 failed calls to Haechan, mark, Renjun, Chenle, jeno and Jisung you still made your way to their dorms in hopes of one of them opening the door. Calling Jaemin would have to be your last resort, you hated asking him for help despite his constant pleading and nagging of always calling him first.
Finding yourself at their door, not a single call back nor reply to you knocking their door, there was no other choice but to call Jaemin.
“Hi beautiful, why are you calling so late? We have a long trip tomorrow” Jaemin’s voice sounding tired, it was evident that he was ready to sleep.
“I wasn’t able to sleep, my roommate is arguing with her boyfriend again, was hoping I can crash here can you open the door for me nana” you said sounding tired and upset.
Jaemin loved it when ever you called him nana. He found it adorable how it sounded coming from you he didn’t know if it was because the nickname was only known by those close to him or if because it was you saying it.
“Of course beautiful”
One thing about Jaemin is that he never failed to call you sweet names like beautiful, gorgeous, princess, sunshine and pretty. He never failed to praise you and call you sweet names. Sometimes it gave you hopes that maybe he liked you a little but you knew Jaemin was just so soft spoken.
Seconds later a shirtless messy hair Jaemin opens the door welcoming you with a smile, he looked sleepy. It was moments like this were you wished you could jump his bones and give him the best head.
“Sunshine you walked here in those shorts ? Its late, it isn’t safe for a beautiful girl like you to be walking alone in the dark” despite his concerned words, deep down he wished this sight of you in those small shorts, messy hair and oversized hoodie was a sight only for him. He wished the hoodie you were wearing was his and not marks. He wished you had called him so he could’ve walked with you and make sure you were safe.
“The walk isn’t long, and most people already left campus jaem, im pretty sure I was the only one walking at this time on campus” you said taking your shoes off and walking in with your bags. Jaemin didn’t notice them at first, taking your bags he placed them in the couch.
“You can sleep in my bed sunshine, I don’t mind sleeping out here” jaemin didn’t like the fact that you’d have to sleep out in the living room while everyone else slept in their comfy warm beds.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind sharing a bed, we’ve done it before”
it was true, you and Jaemin had shared beds before, when there was limited rooms at Chenle’s family beach house, you had no choice but to share a bed with one of them based on a game of rock paper scissors.
Making you way to Jaemin’s room you felt butterflies, you’ve shared a bed before but this times it felt different. Maybe it was because the shirtless man kept walking extremely close tp you. Not that you mind but his body heat was intense and you loved the fact that he smelled like fresh soap and cologne.
Hearing haechans and marks screams, only made you feel more hot considering the fact that both of the fuckers were up yet none answered made your blood boil.
Jaemin’s room smelled just as intoxicating as him, you could spend hours in here.
“You lay down first princess, Im going to edit some photos for a while, I really want to have these done before our trip” Jaemin sat in this chair man spreading its like he wants to purposely drive you insane. He has such broad shoulders and amazing tits, it drove you insane how he was just sitting there focused on his computer and had you rubbing your thighs together.
Feeling hot, the hoodie not longer felt comfortable
“Nana can I borrow a shirt? I want to change into something more comfortable”
Jaemin felt his heart skip, you had never worn his clothes before and it was a sight he was hoping to see. Giving you as smile while walking to his drawers and grabbing a pain white t shirt he wore on a daily.
Walking out of the bathroom now in jaemin’s shirt turned you on even more.
“Hi y/n I just saw your message, but it looks like jaemin already helped you, see you tomorrow” Haechan said from this room still wearing his head set.
“Whore, I called you like 10 times not a single call back, hope you choke in your sleep” you said rushing to Jaemin’s room pushing the door closed.
Jaemin turning around to a new sight that only made feel hot and bothered. He could bend you right over his desk and make you scream his name.
Not 10 minutes go by when you feel someone a second body lay in the bed. Making you feel nervous at the presence, feeling a pair of hands wrap around your waist pulling you in for a cuddle. He was so intoxicating that you didn’t even feel yourself rubbing against his crotch.
“Princess don’t tease, I will not have any self control” Jaemin’s voice was so deep and sodding.
Feeling his tent made you whimper, it was like music to Jaemin’s ears.
“jae.. jaemin please”
“Please what baby.. I need you to use your words”
“Please touch me nana”
Jaemin didn’t need any further instructions, moving his hands up to cup your breast and play with your nipple making you moan.
“So soft and perfect for me princess, how I’ve been wishing to make you mine”
Removing his hands off you and hovering over you, taking the white shirt off exposing your chest to him.
“Look how perfect, such perfect tits bet you’d like it if I put them in my mouth”
Jaemin was always so soft spoken and hearing these words made your mind cloud. He was so sexy. Chain hanging from his neck, abs so evident it was impossible to keep your hands off him.
He leaned down for kiss that turned into a deep passionate make out session inviting his tongue in your mouth pushing up against his bulge, a groan escaped his mouth.
“Why don’t we remove these lovely shorts off you, want to help my princess feel better”
He moved down, removing your shorts and panties, he wish he could take a picture of you with his camera, you looked so beautiful, it was driving him insane. Spreading your legs open he licked his lips.
“You’re soaking baby all for me, look at that pussy perfect just for me, bet you taste lovely”
Feeling a wet kiss at your cunt, it was like heaven, jaemin was gentle and slow. Your pussy was so addicting to him, he could eat you out for hours and never get tired of your taste and smell. Pushing a finger in you made you gasp, having his fingers and mouth was making you dizzy. Seeing stars, jaemin began to rub circles against your clit senting you over the edge.
“Fuck Jaemin im cumin” you screamed as your orgasm hit.
He watched you as you rode your orgasm salivating. You looked so hot messy hair and chest rising due to your overpowering orgasm. Jaemin brought his fingers to his mouth licking your juices .
“Are you going to continue looking at me or will you finally fuck me” the sudden confidence only made his dick twitch.
Pulling him in for a wet kiss tasting yourself. Shoving one of your hands down his pants to release his members from his sweats.
“Stop teasing me princess” jaemin groaned against your mouth.
Rolling both of you over, you’re now on top of him wet pussy right on top of his dick that was partially sticking out of his sweats. You begin to grind against him making a moaning messy out of jaemin. You wanted him so bad, moving down to remove his sweats and boxers releasing his pink, pulsing dick. Licking your lips you take his tip in your mouth and begin to suck.
“Fuck princess, you feel so good”
Taking all of him gasping for air, Jaemin was big. You knew he’d be big but never imagined you’d be gasping, tears rolling down your face. Pulling out leaving a mess on his dick. Jaemin’s eyes were now dark full of lust.
“On top of me Now”
Obeying his orders your get on top Jaemin naked parts meeting, you being to aline his dick against your enters. Pushing down to only take the tip both a moaning mess.
“So big” you moan as you slowly push down taking him whole. The stretch wasn’t painful, it felt good. You began to grind in circles clenching against him causing to groan to escape.
“Fuck baby if you keep doing that ill cum fast”
You continued to move faster, jaemin thrusting up made you scream as he hit your cervix.
“Fuck im gonna cum” he moaned.
“Please Jaemin cum inside me” you pleaded, wanting to feel him paint your walls.
He began to rubbing your clit as you continued to ride him, sending shivers down your spine, making you see stars and jaemin spilled his seeds in you triggering your second orgasm screaming his name.
“Jaemin… fuck… so good”
As you laid on top him dick still inside of you, jaemin rolled you over now laying naked on his bed seeds spilling out of you.
“let me get a towel and clean you up princess”
As he stood up putting on his boxers, the realization hit you. You just had amazing sex with jaemin, the man you had been edging yourself too for months. Part of you felt embarrassed, he had now seen you naked, what he regretted having sex with you. What if he saw this a fling.
“Angel, you’re all cleaned up how about you put on this t shirt and we cuddle, we have 5 hour before we have to be up” Jaemin looked sleepy and drained out.
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Feeling the sun kiss your skin your stretch, a body cuddling you.
‘“Good morning beautiful, how did you sleep?”
Jaemin looked so beautiful, puffy face, messy hair and raspy voice.
“I slept good, ready for todays trip” sitting up looking around seeing your shorts on the ground.
“How about we take a shower together and replay last nights activities” jaemin was bold for assuming you’d have shower sex with him knowing the guys were right next door. Not that stopped you last night.
Hearing a knock at the door a tired Haechan spoke “are you guys up or fucking again, geez jaemin let the poor girl breath”
Oh that was so embarrassing, they heard you last night, Jaemin smirked proud of himself.
“Now princess there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, they need to get used to hearing you, after all im going to be making my girl feel good all the time” Jaemin’s words make you blush. Suddenly being hit with the realization that he came inside of you.
“Omg Jaemin you came inside of me we need to go buy a plan b and some condoms”
“Whatever my princess wants, now how about round two in the shower”
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-nashyuck
NOW TAKING REQUESTS!
#nct smut#jaemin#jaemin smut#nct dream smut#nct dream#jaemin x reader#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct imagines#nct angst#nct dream angst#jaemin angst#jaemin hard hours#nct hard hours#nct dream hard hours#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#kpop imagines
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