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colouredbyd · 1 month ago

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The Boy Is Mine

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

summary: you’re quiet by nature, content in the background—until someone pushes too far. When a girl flirts with Remus, something shifts. With one kiss and a quiet claim, you remind everyone exactly who he ( and Sirius) belong to.

warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, strong language, suggestive content, heated kiss, and public displays of affection.

wc: 3.4k

a/n: i need both Remus and Sirius at the same damn time.

masterlist

You’ve never been the loudest in the room.

You don’t need to be. Not when Sirius is tossing his head back laughing beside you, all glittering chaos and charm, or when Remus leans in close, voice low and deliberate, like every word he says is meant only for you.

They fill the space so effortlessly—Sirius with his magnetic presence, Remus with his quiet gravity—and you find yourself fitting between them like a breath between heartbeats. Steady, constant and soft.

You like watching more than speaking. Not out of shyness exactly, but because you enjoy observing—feeling everything. It’s the way Remus’s thumb circles over your knee under the table without him even realizing. The way Sirius always saves you the last bite, even when he swears he won’t. You don’t need to be loud to be loved here.

They know you. They’ve always known you.

Sirius, who pulls you into the middle of the common room and spins you in dizzy circles until you’re breathless with laughter. Remus, who presses his nose into your hair when the world feels too sharp and mumbles poetry against your skin.

Between the two of them, you’ve never had to shout to be heard. They listen in the silence. They love you in the quiet.

But sometimes, even the quiet hums with something fierce.

And today, it’s starting to burn.

The loud music thumps through the walls, pulsing in your veins, but all you can hear is Remus’s voice rising above the chatter of the party. He’s talking to a girl, one whose name doesn’t matter.

because you’re already irritated.

Sirius is speaking beside you—his voice low and animated, probably bantering with James about something as thrillingly idiotic as who cheated in the last round of Exploding Snap—but the words barely register. They fade into the background like the bass of the music humming through the party, the way laughter spills and drips from every corner of the Gryffindor common room like syrup.

You’re curled up beside him on the leather couch, soft and familiar, half draped across his lap like you belong there, because you do. His palm is warm against your skin, fingers lazy as they trace circles over your thigh, an unconscious kind of touch that says mine without needing the word.

But your attention isn’t on Sirius.

It’s fixed—razor sharp and unblinking—on the girl across the room.

She’s all lip gloss and bright laughter, the kind of girl who doesn’t walk into a room so much as glitter through it. Her blouse is buttoned just low enough to draw the eye, her skirt just short enough to be a statement. She leans in closer to Remus like she’s in a slow-motion daydream, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she giggles at something he said.

Except Remus isn’t laughing.

He’s smiling, but you know that smile. It’s the strained one. The tight-lipped, please-don’t-make-this-weird smile he gives when someone crosses the line and he’s too damn kind to push them away.

And she—well. She’s not backing off.

Your fingers tighten around the stem of your glass. Not enough to shatter it, but enough to feel it, to ground yourself before the rising tide inside you gets too high. The jealousy doesn’t burn. No, it doesn’t scream or sputter like some childish tantrum. It’s quiet. Sharp. Ice in your veins, snow behind your ribs. It’s precise.

You watch her touch his arm, watch her eyes flutter and her voice pitch just so. You watch Remus stand there with all that quiet discomfort in his shoulders and all that unnecessary politeness keeping him rooted in place.

And something inside you shifts.

You’re not the loud one at these parties. You’re not the girl who shouts or struts or demands. You’re the one who stays curled up in the lap of a boy with stardust in his smile, sipping your drink while the chaos unfurls around you. You’re the calm in their storm, the softness they return to.

But not tonight.

Because tonight, someone is trying to touch what’s yours.

And whether Remus knows it yet or not, whether that girl ever figures out just how royally she’s miscalculated, one thing is already certain.

You are about to stop being the quiet one.

“Moony’s got his fan club going tonight, huh?” Sirius says, his tone casual, his fingers playing with a loose thread on the hem of your sleeve. “I swear, every time he talks to a girl, she looks like she’s ready to devour him.”

You hum, an absent sound, not really acknowledging him. Your gaze stays fixed on Remus and that damn girl, the way she’s tossing her hair back and laughing too loudly.

“You okay, dove?” His voice drops a little, his fingers tracing the line of your spine with a slow, deliberate motion.

You want to lie. You want to say it’s fine, that you’re just tired or distracted, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you give a small shake of your head, the fluttering in your chest too strong to ignore.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, a little too quickly. “Just… thinking.”

Sirius’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t push. He knows you well enough to sense when you need space, but tonight, there’s something different. The energy in the room feels electric, like it’s just waiting for a spark.

Remus laughs again from across the room, and this time, the girl reaches up to touch his arm, her fingers trailing lightly along his sleeve. The sight, the sound, the way her body leans just a little too close to his, sends a pang of something sharp through you. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch her lean in, her lips too close to his ear as she whispers something.

Your fingers grip the edge of the couch, your nails digging into the fabric. You feel like you’re going to snap at any moment, and you’re so sick of it.

Sirius seems to notice the shift in the air. His hand halts on your back, and he turns his head toward Remus and the girl, then back to you. His expression softens, understanding settling in. He leans forward, his voice low as he speaks, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“Love, I think we’ve reached a new level here,” he says, voice laced with something almost teasing. “You’ve been staring at him for ages now.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep the fluttering in your chest under control. “I’m not staring,” you say, but even you can hear the edge in your voice.

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? ‘Cause I think you’ve definitely been staring. You want me to go over there and break it up?”

“No,” you snap, a little too quickly, and then you freeze, realizing just how harsh you sound. You soften your tone, but the words still feel like they’re cutting you open. “I… I don’t know.”

Sirius doesn’t push you, but he watches you carefully, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

You shift uncomfortably, your gaze returning to Remus and the girl. It’s like a magnet pulling you in, the way she laughs again, her hand resting on his shoulder now, fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone.

The thought makes you want to scream.

You watch the girl lean in closer, her breath light against his ear as she says something you can’t hear, but you can see it in the way her lashes flutter and her lips curl. It’s an obvious flirtation, the kind of thing that would make anyone else swoon, but you just feel your stomach twist in knots. Remus gives a tight, polite smile, the one he always does when he’s too kind to be rude, but you know that smile too well. It’s a mask, a shield, and you can see right through it. He’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t stop her.

The touch lingers. And Remus—sweet, gentle, infuriating Remus—doesn’t stop her.

He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t step back. He doesn’t even glance in your direction.

And maybe that’s the worst part.

Maybe he’s just being polite. Maybe he’s too soft-spoken for his own good. Maybe he thinks you don’t mind, that you’re tucked up on the couch beside Sirius, warm and safe and unbothered. Maybe he’s forgotten that while you may be quiet, you’re not blind.

But oh, you care.

You care enough that your drink is forgotten in your hand, the condensation sliding over your fingers like cold sweat. You care enough that your jaw clenches tight, the muscle ticking with a quiet fury that pulses behind your ribs. There’s a pressure building in your chest, a weight that has nothing to do with insecurity and everything to do with possession.

You’ve always known what’s yours.

And Remus?

He is yours.

The room around you begins to blur, voices fading into background noise, like someone’s turned the volume down on the rest of the party. The flickering firelight, the chatter of students, the low buzz of magical music—all of it dulls. All you can see is the way she’s looking at him, lips parted in a practiced little smile, eyes batting as if she’s never had to work hard for attention in her life.

You hear her laugh—sharp and high and entirely insincere—and it cuts through you like a blade. Remus chuckles along with her, and it’s that sound, that soft little sound of his, that makes something in your spine snap straight. His eyes catch the light just right, that familiar glint of mischief and charm you’ve seen a thousand times when he’s teasing you softly beneath the covers, and it stings more than you’d like to admit.

And suddenly, you are no longer the quiet girl curled in the corner.

You are no longer the soft one who waits patiently for your boys to come home to you.

You are standing up, not with a shout or a dramatic flourish, but with a kind of cold certainty, like the sea deciding to rise. Sirius shifts beside you instinctively, his hand brushing your back as he senses the change in the air, his voice dipping with curiosity.

“Love?” he says quietly, brows raising. “Everything alright?”

You don’t answer. Not yet.

Because your eyes are still locked on the girl in the too-tight blouse and the too-pretty smile and the entirely wrong assumption that she has any right to touch your Remus like she belongs there.

She doesn’t.

And she’s about to learn exactly why.

It never felt like you needed to compete for Remus’s attention. He had always been yours in that quiet, unspoken way—his careful gestures, the soft smiles he gave you when no one was looking, the way he always made sure you were okay, even when you didn’t ask. You had a bond, something deeper than words. But now, watching him allow her to invade that space, something inside you snaps.

She’s leaning into him like he’s already hers, one manicured hand lingering on his forearm, like she doesn’t see the slight pullback in his posture. Like she doesn’t notice the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sirius’s hand slips off your thigh, stunned. “Where’re you going?”

“To get what’s mine.” you say, and your voice is soft, sultry, but it slices through the noise like a blade.

James chokes on his drink. Lily turns, eyebrows lifting as she watches you stalk forward, hips swaying, jumper slouching off one bare shoulder. You hear someone mutter, “Bloody hell.” and you don’t even need to look to know Marlene is probably grinning like a wolf.

The girl is still touching Remus. Still laughing.

You don’t give her the chance to speak. You don’t give him a moment to explain, or to blink, or to pretend he doesn’t feel the air shift as you close the distance between you like a storm cloaked in silk.

Your fingers slip beneath the hem of his jumper, curl tightly into the soft wool, and tug. Hard. Hard enough that he stumbles forward, just one step, just enough to crash into your gravity.

His eyes find yours, startled and wide, and for a heartbeat he forgets where he is. The party, the music, the girl whose perfume is still clinging to the air around him—all of it vanishes the moment your lips catch his.

It is not a kiss built from politeness or affection. It is not the kind of thing meant for privacy or delicacy.

This kiss is war.

It’s bruising and slow and devastating, like a spell whispered in the middle of a battlefield. Your hand tangles in his curls and tugs, just enough to make him gasp into your mouth. Your other hand slides down to his belt, fingers brushing over the buckle, teasing with the lightest hint of promise. You tilt your head to deepen it, your lips parting just slightly, just enough to taste him.

He groans, low and helpless, the sound caught between your mouths, and you smile against him, smug and sinful.

When you finally pull away, his lips are pink and glistening and parted like he’s about to say something but hasn’t figured out what language he speaks anymore. His hands are still hovering at your hips, and his chest is rising with uneven breath, eyes clouded with something that’s definitely not confusion.

You turn to the girl, and she looks like she’s just witnessed something religious and blasphemous at the same time. Her mouth is hanging open. Her expression is frozen in that awkward no-man’s-land between horror and disbelief.

“Oh,” you say sweetly, voice thick with honey and venom, “were you still talking? Only he seems a bit busy now.”

She blinks. Opens her mouth. Closes it. You don’t give her time to think. You trail your fingers down the front of Remus’s chest, slowly, like you’re remembering the way his body feels under your hands and enjoying every second of it. You play with the collar of his shirt, letting your nails drag across the fabric, soft and sure.

Your eyes never leave hers.

“I mean,” you go on, voice quieter now, conversational in a way that is somehow even more intimidating, “I don’t blame you. Honestly. Look at him. He’s got that whole clever boy thing going on, right? The kind of boy who knows all the answers in class and still somehow makes you want to climb into his lap and ruin his concentration. And don’t even get me started on that body—tall and lean and unfair, and the scars…” you let your fingers trail over his chest again, nails teasing the fabric, “Body built like a sin under those clothes, too bad only me and Sirius get to see it though.”

A grin spreads across your face, wide and wicked like a cheshire cat.

Remus lets out a sound that’s definitely not family friendly and buries his face in your neck for a second, either to breathe you in or to hide the fact that he might actually combust.

James lets out a strangled sound from across the room. “What the actual hell is going on?”

Lily is watching with wide, fascinated eyes, looking between you and the girl like she’s witnessing a lioness dismantle a bunny in slow motion. Marlene, from her spot near the fireplace, raises her drink in silent toast and mutters, “Finally.”

You lean in close to Remus, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear. “But here’s the thing,” you whisper, just loud enough for the girl to still hear.

“He’s mine.”

Then you pull back and look her dead in the eye, your gaze soft but lethal.

“And I don’t share.”

The girl blinks once. Twice. Then turns with all the grace of someone trying not to run.

Remus just stares at you for a long moment, breathless, hands still planted on your waist like he’s afraid to let go in case the earth tilts and he floats away.

“What the hell just happened?” he asks, voice low, rough, and wrecked.

Sirius appears beside you like smoke, sliding his arm around your waist as he grins like you’ve hung the bloody stars for him.

The girl’s mouth parts, clearly searching for a clever retort, something sharp or self-righteous or maybe even pathetic to claw her dignity back from the floor where you left it. But the words never come. Her lips tremble like she’s buffering. You don’t give her the chance to reboot.

Instead, with calm that borders on cruelty, you turn back to Remus and brush your lips against the corner of his mouth. Not a full kiss this time, but something quieter, more dangerous. A period at the end of a sentence she was never invited to read.

You feel the way he freezes for just a moment, breath hitching as your fingers slide up to rest at the base of his throat, just enough pressure to remind him—and everyone watching—exactly who he belongs to.

The common room is stunned into silence. Even the portrait hole seems to creak softer, like the whole castle is holding its breath.

And then James, bless his nosy little soul, practically falls off the arm of the couch. He stares at you with something like religious awe, eyes as wide as Galleons, hand clutching his drink like a lifeline.

“That,” he says reverently, voice cracking with disbelief, “was the hottest thing I have ever witnessed. And I saw Sirius in a crop top once.”

Sirius doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s unaffected. He slumps back against the couch, one hand dragging through his hair like he’s trying to keep his brain from melting. His grin is crooked and wild, like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“Merlin’s tits,” he says, almost reverent. “I think I’m in love. Again.”

Lily, sitting upright with her legs crossed like she’s hosting a panel discussion, blinks slowly. Her jaw is slightly ajar, her drink forgotten on the floor.

“Did she just… flirt and threaten simultaneously?” she asks, clearly reevaluating everything she thought she knew about you.

Marlene doesn’t even bother to hide her grin. She claps once, loud and delighted, and leans forward with sparkling eyes.

“Oh, I love her,” she announces with glee. “Someone give that girl a crown and a throne and maybe a leather corset. She just out-Slytherined the entire House.”

You don’t look away from Remus. He’s still breathless, a little dazed, his lips parted like he’s forgotten how to speak. His hands are at your waist now, gripping softly like he needs to touch you just to make sure you’re real.

You lean in, voice velvet-sweet, and say, “Now Remmy, were you going to let her keep touching you or should I start hexing?”

Sirius, meanwhile, is leaning back like a man thoroughly entertained, one arm draped across Remus’ shoulder with a love-sick gaze in his eyes.

Remus just blinks for a moment, his mouth parted, completely undone. Then a sound escapes him, surprised and delighted, something between a laugh and a groan, like you’ve just knocked the wind out of him in the best way.

“I think I’m in love with you all over again,” he says, a little dazed.

And then Sirius leans over, as if conjured by the heat of the moment, slipping in behind you like gravity itself gave him no choice. His hands slide over your hips, warm and certain, like they’ve always belonged there. He leans in until his mouth brushes your neck, breath hot and voice lower than sin.

“That,” he murmurs, lips grazing your skin, “was art. You’ve officially ruined me. I’ll never recover.”

You shrug, casual as anything, but your pulse is thundering and your eyes are glowing and the adrenaline is still singing in your bones like an aria. “Good,” you say simply, and it lands like a spell.

The common room hasn’t even recovered. Conversations haven’t resumed. Heads are still tilted in your direction like they’re not quite sure what just happened, if they witnessed a declaration or a detonation. And maybe it was both. You were the quiet girl. The sweet one. The one with gentle touches and soft smiles who moved like a secret in a room full of noise.

But tonight? Tonight, they watched you stand like you were carved from something divine, watched you kiss Remus like he was yours and always had been, watched you claim your place not as an afterthought, but as a force of nature wrapped in wool and confidence.

And Remus? He’s still holding your waist like he might never let go. Sirius looks like he’d fight anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way.

Together, they look ready to tear the world apart if it means keeping you. And somehow, the quiet girl has become the storm they’d die for

#marauders era #marauders x reader #poly!wolfstar #wolfstar x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin x reader angst #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x reader angst #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x reader fluff #poly!wolfstar fluff #wolfstar x reader fluff #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff

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roturo · 11 months ago

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SUCCESSOR -`♡´-

summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.

warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.

a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!

You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.

L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:

He believes he’s going to die soon.

This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.

L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.

He needs a successor.

And soon.

Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.

You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.

Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.

The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.

You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”

Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.

“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”

The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.

“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”

A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.

“I need time to think about this,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.

L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”

Finally, you made your decision.

One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”

For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”

You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”

L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”

You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience. Should… we do it tonight?”

“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.

L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.

He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?

His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.

“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”

He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”

His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.

He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.

The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.

This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.

He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.

He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.

His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.

Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.

“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”

He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.

“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”

His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.

As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.

“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”

You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.

Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.

As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”

“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

#l lawliet smut #l lawliet #l smut #l death note #death note #death note anime #death note smut #light yagami #light yagami smut #ryuzaki #l lawliet x you #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet fanart

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lia-linny · 18 days ago

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summary: A hilarious TikTok trend changes yn's life when her crush sees the funny video titled "reasons why i would date Lee Felix" and a notification pops up in her phone the day after: "@leefelix_brownieboy posted a video"

genre: fluff, Highschool au, social media romance

words: 1.9k

"What about Wooyoung?"

The chatter in the school cafeteria was as loud as ever, but at the table where yn sat with her friends, it felt like a world of its own. Loud, chaotic, and full of giggles. Typical teenage conversations were held, from the latest fashion trends to celebrity gossip. That day, they first passionately discussed how cute Bang Chan and his new girlfriend the skater girl looked together. Then, the topic had shifted to relationships in general, and her friends had started wondering why yn was still single. Determined to change that as soon as possible, they decided to set her up with someone. All they needed now was to find someone who match all her criteria.

"Wooyoung is way too flirty for me," yn replied with a smirk to Karina’s question.

"Jungwon?" Winter chimed in.

"Nah... not really my type..." Yn was sitting between Karina and Winter, across from Ningning and Giselle, while her friends worked through their mental list of guys with the precision of a detective team. As she twirled the straw in her iced tea can, Giselle asked:

"Sunghoon? Figure skater energy?"

"I’d fall, and he’d definitely laugh at me." That sparked another round of giggles.

Giselle rested her chin in her hand. "Girl, your type doesn’t even exist. You’re picky times ten."

"That’s called having standards," yn shot back with a grin but deep down, she knew her friend was right. She had never been someone who fell in love easily. She preferred to watch, analyze, and take her time. If you were going to fall, then it should be for the right one, right? Why waste time just to find out that he is an asshole?

"Okay, wait." Ningning leaned in, her voice a little softer, almost teasing. "What about Felix?" Something tightened in yn’s stomach. Bullseye.

"Felix?"

"Yeah, you know. Bakes like a god, gamer, freckles." All eyes turned to her. Yn had tried to stay neutral, but the telltale blush on her cheeks had given her away. Plus, she was pretty sure anyone within a ten-kilometer radius could hear her pounding heartbeat.

"Oh my God, she’s blushing!" Karina exclaimed.

"He’s just..." yn sighed, playing with her fork in the food. "He’s exactly my type. Looks-wise. Personality-wise. He’s just so..."

"Sunshine?" Giselle teased with a grin. Yn nodded slowly, a quiet smile playing on her lips.

"Guys, I think our angel is in love! Omg, we have to get them together!!! Sunshine meets sunshine!"

"You two TikTok nerds would vibe perfectly," Winter said.

"You’d go viral before you’re even official!" Ningning laughed. Yn laughed along, but one thought stuck in her mind. Felix. She had never really talked to him just a few fleeting glances in the hallway, maybe some mutual TikTok likes but something about him felt... magnetic.

She pushed the thought aside. It was just a fun conversation among friends, nothing more. It wasn’t like she actually had anything to do with him...

But later that night, while scrolling through TikTok and stumbling upon the new trend “Reasons why I would date…”, a thought flickered. What if?

It was just after midnight, the light in yn’s room dimmed, only the fairy lights above her desk casting a warm, flickering glow across the walls. Her finger hovered above the record button. It was just for fun. She propped up her phone on a stack of books, fixed her hair, and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt slightly over her forehead for the vibe. Then she hit record.

“Reasons why I would date... Lee Felix.”

For social media, yn had scraped together every bit of confidence she could find. It was meant to be funny. She looked at the camera with a grin as she raised her fingers one by one, counting off the reasons.

"1. He's nicer to strangers than 90% of people will ever be.

2. He bakes. And well. I mean, come on.

3. His freckles are cuter than anything I’ve ever seen. They are like little stars on his face. It looks so friendly.

4. His laugh. I can’t even explain it, but my heart literally does a flip. I’m convinced that every time Felix smiles, he saves a life somewhere in the world.

5. His voice is fucking hot..."

At the last point, she had to giggl a bit and hid her face in her hands. She ended the video with a crooked smile and added a caption:

@ just.yn'n.bakin: just girly things ~ only my mutuals will see this anyway lol 🍪☀️"

The next morning, she had just wanted to check if her best friend had replied to one of her messages. Instead, TikTok had been blinking with 999+ new notifications. Her eyes widened with shock.

"Oh my God." The video had gone viral overnight. Not “haha a few likes”-viral. Millions of views. And tens of thousands of comments, like: “I ship you two SO HARD.” “Felix, you’ve got 24 hours, bro.” “Manifesting this relationship.” “Why am I crying over this???”

Yn stared at the screen as her fingers trembled.

Ping!

Message from Karina: “YOU’RE GOING VIRAL?!”

Then Winter: “Felix definitely saw it.” Seconds later, another one: “He’s literally liking the comments?? Girl I see your love story already!”

Her heart had started racing fast. Faster. Way too fast. She had never thought this would turn into something real when she recorded the video. She hadn’t even dreamed that Felix might actually see it. Somehow, it all felt... embarrassing. Did it make her seem hopelessly in love? Would he find it weird? Cringe? She could already imagine a response video: "Reasons why I would NOT date yn!!!!!! 🤢🤮😂"

Ping!

Notification TikTok: “@leefelix_brownieboy posted a new video.” Still trying to steady her breathing, she quickly tapped the push notification. Her video the one she had half-jokingly recorded before bed was now part of a duet.

Left side: her original. Right side: Felix.

He was sitting cross-legged on his bed in a hoodie, a blanket half-draped over his legs, his hair messy. But his grin was bright and a little shy. He let the video play in full lenght without interrupting, but it was clear he was struggling not to laugh. His cheeks growing redder with every reason she listed.

Yn, watching, had also turned increasingly red as she saw Felix listening to every single word she had said about him the night before. And just when she was about to die of embarrassment... He started his own list.

“Reasons why I would date yn.

Sunshine recognizes sunshine.

2. She bakes better than me. And I don’t say that lightly. You can literally taste the love in her baking. I almost proposed to her when she handed out those cinnamon rolls on her birthday last year.

3. She makes TikToks that are meant just for her friends and still manages to make me laugh so hard I’ve got a whole folder where I save them.

4. She always likes the same TikToks I do. It’s creepy. But cute. She’s funnier than she admits.

5. And… she stole my heart faster than my friends could even send me her video."

At the end, he looked straight into the camera, tilted his head slightly, his tone soft almost unsure but clearly meant for her.

“Yn, if you’re watching this… I wouldn’t be uninterested. Just saying.” The video had ended with a wink, and her eyes had immediately jumped to the caption:

@ leefelix_brownieboy: Someone tell her I’ll be looking for her in the hallway today.

~☆~

Yn felt like every pair of eyes in the hallway was on her. And she probably wasn’t wrong at least three students had already smiled at her like she was some kind of local celebrity. Some of the younger girls, standing in a whispering circle, looked like they were seconds away from asking for a selfie, the way they were dreamily staring at yn.

She tried her best at stucking close to Karina as they made their way to the lockers. But then yn heard a familiar voice. The same voice she had, just yesterday, publicly declared as hot. “Hey.”

She turned around. Felix stood right in front of her, hands tucked into his pockets, that same crooked grin from his TikTok but somehow more real in person. From the far end of the hallway, the group of girls squealed in delight, and yn was pretty sure one of them was about to faint.

“So… uh. Sunshine meets sunshine, huh?” His gaze turned a little cautious, like he was trying to gauge her reaction. Yn let out a soft laugh, then nodded.

“I guess TikTok shipps us.”

“Then we probably shouldn’t disappoint the internet,” he said with a smirk. A brief pause followed. Yn couldn’t quite tell if he was flirting or asking if she wanted to film a TikTok together.

“Kinda random but... coffee after school? Or cupcake baking? I’ll bring the ingredients, you bring that love-recipe of yours?” Yn’s grin grew.

“Only if you help bake.”

“Deal.”

TikTok or date? Maybe it could be both.

~☆~

The air was thick with the scent of vanilla and melted chocolate, wrapping around the two of them like a second layer of sugar. They both had a natural charm when it came to socializing. Chatting with people had never been hard for either of them but this didn’t feel like just any new aquintance. The conversation flowed easily, jumping from topic to topic, laughter echoing between them as they built inside jokes like it was second nature. Something between them just clicked.

While yn kneaded dough for the second batch with flour-dusted fingers, Felix stood beside her with a piping bag in hand, brows furrowed in concentration like cupcake decorating was a sacred art.

“If you stare at that piece of baked dough any harder, I’m gonna get jealous,” yn teased. Felix looked up, pushed his bottom lip out playfully, and grinned.

“I just want you to know I can do more than TikTok dances. I have to bring out all my baking skills to impress you.” He held up a cupcake with a tiny, hand-drawn heart on top.

“Try it.” She took a bite and immediately burst into laughter.

“You swapped salt and sugar in the frosting, sweetie.”

“What?! No-” He yanked the cupcake back, tasted it himself, and pulled a disgusted face. “Okay, plan B: I bring the romance, you save the flavor.” He wiggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated flirt, which sent them both into another round of laughter.

Once yn had finished baking the rest of the muffins and they had decorated them this time with actual sweet frosting they arranged the cupcakes neatly on the kitchen table. The phone was clipped into the tripod, TikTok already recording. Felix grinned into the camera.

“Okay, guys, you wanted an update…” He gestured to yn, who gave a shy little wave, cheeks slightly pink. “This gorgeous girl said yes mostly to cupcakes, but also kinda to me.” They both giggled and grabbed a cupcake each, holding them up in front of their faces like silly dough-eyed monsters. And just before the recording timer ran out, Felix leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

@ just.yn’n.baking: From TikTok mutuals to cupcake partners. Recipe for love?

The comments exploded: “STOP I’M CRYING THIS IS TOO WHOLESOME” “The internet really just played cupid for a softboy and a softgirl.” “Think I’ll try TikTok instead of Tinder now. This gives me hope.” “If they start dating I won’t even know which one I’m more jealous of.”

~☆~

A warm Sunday afternoon, sunlight spilling golden through the half-open window. Felix’s room was a cozy mess: a gaming setup in one corner, a plushie on the bed that yn had jokingly given him weeks ago now clearly treasured and a fruit plate his mom had brought in with a knowing look. A TikTok tripod stood in the middle of the room.

“Okay, this time you’re nailing the drop, right?” yn teased.

“Hey! I’ve gotten better.” She tossed him a hair tie with a laugh. He caught it and tried to tie back the loose strands of his long blond hair, but the ponytail failed miserably most of his hair fell right back into his face.

“Let me do it,” she said without thinking and stepped closer, gently gathering his hair in her hands. She was standing so close now that Felix had to swallow hard. When her hands dropped, they looked at each other. Their eyes met long, deep, and quiet. But just as quickly as the moment came, it passed.

They both stepped back, the music started. Three… two… one they danced. But at the crucial part, Felix missed the beat, stumbled, and nearly fell backward straight into yn. She didn’t fall, thankfully, instinctively placing her hands on his waist to steady him. His face was just inches from hers. Suddenly everything went quiet. The music was still playing, but they could barely hear it. Yn’s heart thudded in her chest. Felix’s breath brushed against her cheek. The distance between them was so small. So easy to close. But neither moved. They were too new at this. Too unsure. As far as yn knew, Felix had never had a partner. Neither had she.

Later she saved the video in her drafts. Too sweet to delete. Too intimate to post.

~☆~

A gray Tuesday. The sky above the school looked like someone had drained all the color from it. Thick, looming clouds were gathering. something was definitely brewing up there. And right on cue, as the final bell of the day echoed through the halls, a sudden downpour broke loose.

“Oh no,” yn murmured, clutching her backpack closer. Of course she hadn’t checked her weather app that morning. Now she was standing there no umbrella, no jacket just a light top already fluttering from the sharp wind.

“Here.” Before she could protest, Felix had tugged off his hoodie. warm, soft, smelling like him and pulled it over her head, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“But you’ll get soaked.”

“I’m Australian. I’ve seen worse,” he grinned. They walked through the rain together, shoulders brushing. Even though his shirt was getting soaked, he looked at her like none of it mattered like she was the only thing that did.

Cautiously, she slipped her hand into his. And it felt so right, they practically floated home.

“Keep it warm for me. Or keep yourself warm with it. Both work.” That had been Felix’s last message. He’d walked her home, hoodie and all flashing her a shy smile as he told her to keep it. The butterflies it gave her then? Gone now.

Because the rain had left her with a cold. Her nose was red, her throat scratchy. She layed curled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, some random Netflix series droning in the background as she scrolled aimlessly through social media. The day dragged on like molasses. She had canceled on her friends and was now just... existing in a pile of tissues and self-pity.

The soft chime from the doorbell snapped her out of it. Groaning, she shuffled to the door only to blink in surprise when she opened it to see familiar doe eyes and a freckled face. Felix stood there. One hand held a small paper bag, the other a thermos. His hoodie was pulled up over his damp blonde hair, misted with rain. Somehow, that made him look even more handsome.

“Heard you’re not quite yourself today.” yn blinked.

“How did you…?”

“Karina. And the TikTok silence. Very un-yn to not post something silly all day.” He offered the bag to her.

“Cough drops figured your throat’s killing you. And… ginger tea. I know, it tastes like trash, but it works.” She gave a raspy laugh.

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But cute while doing it.” She let him in. They didn’t talk much he sat on the floor while she remained bundled up on the couch. They both scrolled through TikTok, showing each other their favorites now and then. It was low-energy, simple… but somehow perfect. And somewhere between one video and the next, yn fell asleep.

~☆~

The TikTok started with light and romantic pop music. Felix stood in the foreground, Chan holding the phone, and Hyunjin commentating loudly off-camera: “Okay guys, today’s the day. Sunshine’s asking Sunshine!”

Cut.

A timelapse of the boys decorating a small garden, fairy lights twinkled overhead, handmade paper stars hung from branches, and colorful paintings swayed gently in the breeze.

Cut.

Felix, in a pastel yellow shirt, tried to mask his nerves with his signature crooked grin.

“She has no idea,” he said to the camera. “when this works, it’s gotta be the most wholesome TikTok move of the year. Holy crap, I’m nervous.”

Cut.

Yn appeared, led into the garden by Ningning, who could barely suppress her squeal. When yn saw the lights, she froze. Her eyes widened. The boys stood in a line, each holding a sign. Above them hung a banner: "REASONS WHY I WANT YOU TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND:"

Cut.

A clip played showing the signs up close:

1. Because every day with you feels like my favorite song and I never want to hit pause.

2. Because you wear my hoodie like it’s always been yours.

3. Because you’d give me the last cupcake.

4. Because you record our cringe moments and turn them into my favorites.

5. Because you’re sweet. But not just that. You’re brave, smart, funny… and most off all perfect for me.

6. Because your laugh makes me laugh even when I have no idea what’s funny.

7. Because you make me feel chosen. And you’re picky. But you picked me.

At the end, Felix stood there holding a cupcake, his eyes soft, his smile quietly excited.

Cut.

YN’s eyes glistened as the realization hit. Gently, Felix stepped closer.

“Yn… from the first video, I knew you were special. And with every laugh, every cupcake, every second together… I knew it even more.” He cleared his throat, voice shaking slightly as he looked into her eyes.

“So… will you be my girlfriend? Officially? My Sunshine?” Yn covered her mouth, eyes wide. She was laughing half overwhelmed, half head-over-heels.

“Yes. A hundred times yes.” She threw her arms around him, and as cheers erupted behind them, she kissed him. Soft. Warm. Honest.

The boys exploded behind them. Changbin shouted, “FINALLY!” Hyunjin zoomed in dramatically. Seungmin threw confetti. Jisung yelled, “THAT’S MY BOY!”

Pure chaos erupted. The video ended on a freeze frame of the kiss, calmly lit by the fairy lights.

@ leefelix_brownieboy: Sunshine x Sunshine official now! 🙀🥳💙

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literaryvein-reblogs · 4 months ago

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Some Words to Describe Eyes

Ablaze - radiant with light or emotion

Alert - watchful and prompt to meet danger or emergency

Angelic - resembling, or suggestive of, an angel (as in purity, holiness, innocence, or beauty)

Beady - small, round, and shiny with interest or greed

Beguiling - agreeably or charmingly attractive or pleasing

Bewitching - powerfully or seductively attractive or charming

Blazing - of outstanding power, speed, heat, or intensity

Bloodshot - inflamed to redness

Calm - still; free from agitation, excitement, or disturbance

Captivating - charmingly or irresistibly appealing

Cold - marked by a lack of the warmth of normal human emotion, friendliness, or compassion

Critical - exercising or involving careful judgment or judicious evaluation

Curious - marked by desire to investigate and learn

Doe-eyed - having large innocent-looking eyes

Dry eye - a condition associated with inadequate tear production and marked by redness, itching, and burning of the eye

Eagle eye - one that sees or observes keenly

Eye roll - an upward turning of the eyes especially as an expression of annoyance, exasperation, disbelief, etc.

Feline - sleekly graceful

Flecked - marked with streaks or spots

Gleaming - glinting; to give off reflection in brilliant flashes

Glistening - shining with reflected light

Good eye - a special ability to recognize a particular thing or quality

Gloomy - having a frowning or scowling appearance

Guileless - innocent, naive

Hypnotic - readily holding the attention

Inviting - attractive, tempting

Iridescent - having or exhibiting a lustrous or attractive quality or effect

Irresistible - impossible to resist (i.e., to exert force in opposition)

Keen/sharp eye - a special ability to notice or recognize a particular thing or quality

Lovestruck - powerfully affected by feelings of romantic love for someone

Magnetic - possessing an extraordinary power or ability to attract

Moon-eyed - having the eyes wide open

Mysterious - exciting wonder, curiosity, or surprise while baffling efforts to comprehend or identify; mystifying

Narrowed - to lessen in width or extent

Opalescent - reflecting an iridescent light

Penetrating - having the power of entering, piercing, or pervading

Piercing - perceptive

Puffy - swollen in size; bloated

Radiant - vividly bright and shining; marked by or expressive of love, confidence, or happiness

Rheumy - having a watery discharge from the mucous membranes

Riveting - having the power to fix the attention; engrossing, fascinating

Scrunched - to cause (something, such as one's features) to draw together—usually used with up

Sheep's eye - a shy longing usually amorous glance—usually used in plural

Soulful - full of or expressing feeling or emotion

Striking - attracting attention or notice through unusual or conspicuous qualities

Sultry - hot with passion or anger

Tantalizing - possessing a quality that arouses or stimulates desire or interest

Tearful - flowing with or accompanied by tears

Tired - drained of strength and energy

Vapid - lacking flavor, zest, interest, animation, or spirit; flat, dull

Wandering eye - a tendency to look at and have sexual thoughts about other people while already in a romantic relationship

Watchful - carefully observant or attentive

Weary - exhausted in strength, endurance, vigor, or freshness

Weather eye - constant and shrewd watchfulness and alertness

Worshipful - giving or expressing worship or veneration

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs ⚜ Describing Eyes

It's alright (I have too many sideblogs for my own good at this point)! You can find more words to describe eyes in the sources linked above. Hope this helps with your writing.

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cherrychilli · 1 month ago

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18+ Steve Harrington x Diner waitress! reader Casual 'relationship', idiots in love, mentions of a shitty ex and a shitty family, fingering, reckless driving. WC:3.2K

A/N: Okay so this was originally supposed to be a part of a potential AU that never panned out. Basically all you need to know is that a disgruntled Steve works for his dad, the crooked CEO in town and everyone is wary of the Harrington's. Except for you.

2.34AM.

You tuck your uniform into your locker, all too relieved to retire the robin's egg blue polyester and starchy white apron for the day. In its stead you pull on a dress. A midnight dark thing that hugged your hips and tended to skim up your thighs no matter how much you discreetly tugged it back down. Not at all suited for the temperature outside.

Doing your best with the little magnetic mirror that stuck to the inside of your locker, you peer into the rectangle bordered by cheap purple plastic, too small to reflect both your face and hair entirely.

Having spent almost a year working at Frank's 24/7 Dine In, you'd gotten used to doing your hair like this after work, angling your head in the tiny mirror every which way to fix your hair in sections. Retouching any makeup that had waned during your shift was a much easier task, thankfully.

You didn't wear much, just enough to help with drawing in more tips. The other waitresses had told you it would help on your first day, adding that some light flirting could serve you well too.

They were right.

From then on you carried a few new essentials with you to work, making sure to curl your lashes before you bat them sweetly at customers you knew to be harmless and applied some light lipstick to draw their eye whenever you laughed at their jokes and called them 'sugar'.

But tonight you didn't reach for your usual shade of lipstick, leaving it sitting inside your locker, untouched since the start of your shift. Instead, you swiped on some of that new lipstick you'd bought the other day, a deeper, prettier tone that suited the late hour.

You liked how it enhanced your natural lip color and the way it smelled faintly of vanilla, the same scent that clung to your hair after serving the diner's signature freshly baked vanilla bean cherry pie all day.

Plucking the tube off the display case yesterday, you could feel his breath puffing against your ear all over again as you unscrewed the stopper, the sweet aroma reminding you of his nose in your hair as he relentlessly rut into you from behind.

Fuck, y' smell nice.

It looked just as good on you now as it had when you applied it in your own mirror at home and under better lighting. The new makeup was a marginal change but a noticeable one still.

Too noticeable, you realized and your smile fell.

A few seconds of staring at your reflection and you wipe the lipstick away upon further thought, feeling a little silly that you'd bought the tube in the first place. The feeling only worsened as you stared at the smudged lipstick on the back of your hand, belly swirling when you remembered the other item you had zipped up inside your purse.

He's not your boyfriend. Get a grip.

The dress was one you had long before this all started and so was the sweet daisy perfume you spritzed onto the base of your neck. Your hair had remained the same too, afraid that if you were to change its style or color then you'd have to admit to yourself that you'd done it for him.

You go to close your locker shut, a margin of space remaining before you pause and pull it open again, looking resolute in your reflection.

Taking your place at the counter for the next couple of hours is poor, sweet Maggie, too drowsy to notice you approaching at first. Your dress is hidden under your overcoat but had she been more alert to notice the fresh layer of lipstick you'd reapplied, she would have rounded the corner with her usual chipper energy, gently nudging an elbow into your side before asking you, "so who's the guy?".

The sound of your footsteps eventually jolts her up but you've already got a hand on the front door, directing a friendly wave at her which she returns along with a yawn in your direction.

Steve's parked just beyond the bend, out of sight of the diner so that your coworkers can't see whose car you sometimes get into at the end of a shift. Although, you can rest a little easy knowing that most of them are too busy just trying to stay awake.

The engine kicks on when he sees you approach through the rear view mirror. Hips swaying, hair bouncing with every step, it was enough to make him smirk, letting out a soft, low whistle while you strutted over.

You watch the hand he has draped out the open window snake back inside, a cigarette butt flicked out into the dark a moment later followed by one last billowing exhale of smoke into the chill night air. Walking past the dying orange glint fizzing into ash on the wet grass, you find the passenger side door already unlocked for you.

Your little arrangement is going on five months now, letting him drive you home after your late shift at the diner. Often, he was the only one who came in around that time. He'd eye you discreetly over a cup of coffee when the other waitresses weren't looking, lighting up a cigarette your boss knew better than to tell him to put out. Then he'd leave and wait nearby for you to clock out.

This wasn't a relationship. Just something the two of you fell into to drive the numbness away. At least that's what it was in your case. Ever since your ex skipped town with the money you saved, you were left with no other choice but to work several shitty jobs to put yourself through the rest college. And sometimes that meant that you needed some kind of a release to work through all the stress that came with your many responsibilities. That's where Steve came in.

But when it came to him you could only guess what weighed on his mind although truthfully, you preferred not to find out. The rumors surrounding his family, particularly his father, were enough to make you keep your head down and out of the older Harrington's sight.

You know that getting involved with his son might be one of the riskier things you've done in your life but knowing how little Julian Harrington seemed to care about what his son did outside of managing his father's unscrupulous dealings was a relief. Even if it did make something deep in your chest crack to know how little affection Steve must have received in his life. How could he with a father who viewed everything and everyone in dollar signs and a mother who held more martini's in her jeweled, pristinely manicured hands than she ever held her own son.

Buckling in, it starts sooner than usual.

Your face quickly warms when his hand makes its way on to your knee. It excited you at first, considering it a precursor of sorts for what was to come but you grow to question it only five minutes later. You watch out of the window when instead of slowing down, he passes the dirt road leading to the isolated clearing he always parked at for an hour or more before taking you home.

"Can't stop today. They need me back in twenty", Steve explains before you have a chance to ask. Yet his hand still doesn't leave you. Instead, it slips higher up your thigh, dipping under your dress to rub at damp cotton, still showing no indication that he might stop after all.

"But you're driving..." you feel a little stupid pointing out the obvious, opening yourself up to the opportunity for him to tease you like he sometimes did. Only Steve doesn't resort to it, a silent desperation pumping in his veins, eyes pulling away from the road to drop between your legs.

"Need to feel you" he tells you. Begs you, it almost sounds like, pulling your panties and urging you to lift your hips so he could ease them down your thighs.

Whenever he gets like this you're never made privy to the specifics of what caused his mood, only that it had to do with his work and you knew better than to ask him more about that.

Your seatbelt pulls tight against your chest but as soon as you've managed to get your panties over your shoes and off, you leave them discarded and turned inside out on the footwell for Steve to discover later.

Consider it a present, you thought to yourself, feeling somewhat sorry and like you owed him for whatever's troubling his mind today.

One hand on the steering wheel and the other on you, he pulls your right leg over the console, grip tight on your thigh as he guides you into settling your ankle between his legs, close to his knee.

"Fuck, I can smell you...been waiting all day for this".

You don't reply, remaining silent because the sound of him enjoying you is much more exciting.

To be honest, you're not even sure if he knows that he's doing it.

Steve hums while tracing your wet slit, collecting as much slippery slick on to the pads of his fingertips. Then a soft growl winds its way up his throat while spreading you open to slot his middle finger between your folds, groaning but he doesn't slip it in. Not yet.

You can hear him even with the sound of the running car when his fingertips travel up to find your clit waiting for him just how he likes, all puffy and swollen and most of all, neglected. He rubs at it quickly and not entirely carefully with messy circles that have you sucking in a gasp, shuddering when a bolt of pleasure pulls your back into a pretty arch that has you pushing your chest out too.

The movement has him flicking his eyes to you again. Glancing at the way your seatbelt strains between your tits, looking at it so intensely like he might want to undo the restraint and press his face there instead.

It's easy to lose yourself when he touches you like this.

Almost as if you might lose your balance and slip off some unseen ledge, you clutch at Steve's arm over his jacket, a plush mahogany brown leather that probably cost more than what you made in a month. Sometimes you'd roll your eyes at all the expensive clothes, more than a little tempted to rip at them with your nails or teeth just because you could. Today it feels more like a necessity, so you dig your nails in and anchor yourself to him when you feel your hips begin to twitch.

"Y' know, I parked outside and watched you through the glass before I came in", he drawls, eyes flicking away from the wet, deserted street again and to his wet hand between your legs.

"Saw you watching the door, just waiting for me to walk in...you looked so lonely...rubbing your thighs together like you couldn't help it...poor pretty girl getting all worked up over me, huh?"

You guessed a while back that he liked to be needed.

And having felt the tacky buildup on slick himself, you can't deny having ruined your underwear over him even if you wanted to, all of that wetness just from waiting for that bell to chime and see him walk through those doors.

Steve pulls his fingers away from your cunt and you begin to whine from the loss until you see him taste you, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment before he's focusing on the road again, spit slick fingers finding their way back to your pussy.

Your head's pushed back against the headrest, hips inching forward to meet his digits.

"Put them in", you tell him, maybe a little too demanding because it earns you a slap right on your clit, quick and firm. You yelp and he scoff's playfully, hand cupping your cunt to feel you twitch from the brief impact.

"Please", you add this time, soft and sweet ."Feels so empty".

Steve wants to take it slow. He really wants to savor you but time's ticking tonight as he quickly glances at the flashy silver Rolex wrapped around his wrist. Maybe he'll get to treat you right next time so for now he begins to sink his fingers inside you, his middle and ring fingers smoothing along your walls.

Steve's eyes keep darting from the road and then to you, lips parting when he sees you bucking your hips into his fingers till they start to turn all creamy with you, riding his hand.

"That's it, keep going", he encourages you, curling his fingers enough to press them against that spot that made you gush and squirt during one of your previous hook ups.

"Wanted your cock tonight, Steve", you whined, circling your hips in a nice, fluid motion, working with the way his fingers are dragging inside you.

"Got all dressed up for you and everything..."

His eyes are on the road still as he takes a right but he can practically hear the way your lips have pushed out into a pout.

"I know", he coos. While he might not have made any mention of it, seeing you strutting towards his car in that dress had him fighting off a hard on.

"Make it up to me? please?"

Later, when you're sober and no longer drunk on lust you'll remember back on this as one of those moments where the walls you put up for your own safety crumbled down, too tangled in your building ecstasy to think straight.

He's not your boyfriend. Get a grip.

And yet something makes him set his eyes back on you.

"I promise", uttered softly in a barely there whisper.

It's the first time he's agreed to make any kind of commitment to you outside of hooking up after hours that you have to quickly bite your lip to stop a smile breaking out on your face.

Hearing him say it only makes you careen towards your orgasm much faster, too busy grinding your clit with renewed vigor into the heel of his palm to stop and analyze your own feelings and what they might mean.

"That's it. Don't stop".

You do as he says, hooking your heel in the crook of his Steve's knee when it happens, pleasure erupting deep inside you and spilling out of your pores because it's much too hard to contain.

Steve's BMW skids to a halt at the intersection by your place, no other cars in sight due to the late hour. You've got your eyes squeezed shut but you can still make out the flashing yellow traffic lights colored auburn through your eyelids, putting your whole body into grinding grinding grinding your clit against his palm.

The ache in his wrist is starting to turn hot and his bones click uncomfortably in his arm but he'd sooner let them fracture than pull his hand away while you wring out every little drop of pleasure you can out of his fingers.

You're a sight divine as he watches on. Sweat shines on your neck like a chain of the finest pearls, thighs soft and tight around Steve's hand like velvet, vanilla softly wafting in the air while your body shudders and quivers as you begin to come down from your climax.

Eventually your hips stop rolling, chest heaving while you reach between your legs to gently pull Steve's soaked fingers out from inside you when he makes no move to do it himself, your cheeks blazing at the lewd sound of a wet squelch as his fingers leave you.

That too he has no problem licking clean and all you can do is watch and gather yourself, try not to work yourself up again while he sucks you off his fingers.

He's hard. You can see it swelling under his jeans but when you make a move to place your own hand on him he gently takes hold of it and places it back on your lap.

"'s no time", he tells you and you frown. It just didn't feel fair to leave him that way even if he did insist. And it just didn't feel fair to be denied the chance to pleasure him like he did you. Especially given how much you wanted to.

It's silent during the few minutes it takes for him to pull up to your apartment building, all of Hawkins asleep and you wonder how you could possibly rest too after what's happened in Steve's car.

There wasn't usually all that much said when it came time to step out of his car. No proper goodbye. No confirmed promise of when the next time will be. All you could do was wait for your phone to chime with a message from him or wait until he turns up at the diner again.

But this time he surprises you.

Undoing your seatbelt for you, the warmth of Steve's had on your cheek feels too soothing to give up before stepping out into the cold, even if a little strange too. Neither of you are used to this side of him. Hell, neither of you thought he had such a side to him at all.

And you're too entranced to question it, when he pulls you close, his lips connecting with yours.

It isn't like you've never shared a kiss before. It's just that they only usually happened leading up to sex or during sex but tonight, he leaves you with something tender and new.

Pulling back, you see his lips tinted very lightly with your lipstick.

" 's pretty" he mumbles, thumb pulling at your bottom lip, unaware that you've left some of it on him too.

You beam, thinking back on how you almost didn't wear it. Thinking that he wouldn't acknowledge it or care.

You wipe it off his lips with your thumb before any of his business associates have a chance to see it and ask any questions.

And that's when you remember the other reason you were hoping for Steve to take your usual detour tonight. Stepping out on unsteady legs, you fit your hand into your purse, clutching the spare key in your pocket tight before pulling it out and taking a moment to prepare yourself.

"I have the night off tomorrow", you drop the key into the passenger seat through the window, watching it glint under the moonlight.

"If you want...", you trail. No amount of preparation could have readied you for this, you realize.

"I'll be up" you say instead, turning on your heel so you can rush inside before Steve can utter so much as a single word.

---

Waiting for the hours to pass the next day feels near unbearable, nervously pacing around your apartment and distracting yourself with chores when it starts to turn dark.

He's not your boyfriend. Get a grip. Once again makes a home in your head despite how unwelcome it is there. And when 11PM turns to 12AM to 1AM to 2AM again you blink back the sting of new tears, ready to unclad yourself from the lingerie you had on underneath your clothes and wash away the perfume and the make up and-

The front door handle begins to jiggle just then, the distinct sound of a key slipping into the lock follows and you're already smiling before he pulls the door open, flowers in hand.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things smut #stranger things #steve harrington x reader

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romerona · 5 months ago

Text

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

Feat Abbot Staff!!

Carmy hated Sundays.

The Bear was closed and for a man used to the relentless pace of a kitchen—orders flying in, knives slicing, pans clattering—the stillness of a day off felt more like a curse than a blessing. Without the chaos to ground him, he was left alone with his thoughts, something he avoids at all coast. He’d tried to fill the hours: cleaning his already spotless apartment, flipping through a cookbook he’d read a dozen times, even going for a run. But nothing seemed to stick. The quiet only made the knots in his chest tighten.

That’s why he was here, walking aimlessly through the park, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie. The air was crisp, the kind of late-autumn chill that bit at your nose but wasn’t cold enough to send you running for cover. Leaves crunched under his sneakers, their vivid oranges and yellows scattered across the path like nature’s version of confetti. The walk wasn’t fixing anything, but at least it gave him something to do. Something to focus on other than the gnawing sense that he should be doing more—even if he wasn’t sure what that meant anymore.

The distant sound of cheering, music, laughter, and the unmistakable squeak of sneakers against asphalt drew his attention. Rounding a corner, he spotted the commotion: the park’s basketball court was packed with people, all gathered around a lively game. A colorful banner hung crookedly above the entrance: Teachers vs. Parents Fundraiser—Help Abbott Elementary Score New Desks!

Carmy slowed his steps, curiosity tugging at him. Abbott Elementary. He’d heard you mention it in passing—how you loved your chaotic fourth graders, even when they tested your patience. You’d shared stories that had made him laugh more than he expected, like the time students were ‘desking’ and one of her coworkers splint her ankle.

On the court, two teams—one in bright shirts labeled Teacher Squad—were in the middle of a heated game. The crowd around the edges was just as lively, holding signs and hollering encouragement. Kids raced around with ice cream cones, parents juggled snacks and folding chairs, and a few teachers shouted at their teammates with varying levels of enthusiasm... And cameras?

Carmy’s gaze drifted toward the sidelines, and that’s when he saw you.

You were holding a clipboard, looking equal parts coach, cheerleader, and chaos manager, laughing as a tall man in a Teacher Squad t-shirt tried to dribble past a petite woman in braids who had the energy of someone far too invested in a friendly game.

“Janine!” you shouted, waving your clipboard. “Stick to defense, not interpretive dance!”

Janine threw her arms up. “I am playing defense! I just happen to be expressive about it!”

Another man—who Carmy guessed was not a regular athlete—tried to block someone but ended up tripping over his own feet.

A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd as a woman with an air of authority rolled her eyes. “Jacob, for heaven’s sake, plant your feet!”

“I’m working on it!” The man, Jacob, shouted back, sweating bullets.

Meanwhile, on a DJ setup at the edge of the court, a woman stood at a table with a microphone in one hand and a portable turntable in the other. She was wearing oversized sunglasses and a sparkly "Finest Principal of the Year" t-shirt.

She leaned into the mic, her voice dripping with confidence. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and everyone else lucky enough to witness this greatness, welcome to The Ava Coleman’s Show! Featuring basketball, fundraising, and these fabulous beats brought to you by yours truly.”

Carmy was unable to look away from the scene. It was chaos—absolute, unfiltered chaos—but there was something oddly magnetic about it.

You caught sight of him before he could decide whether to leave or stay. Your eyes lit up in recognition, and you broke into a grin, waving him over. “Carmy? Hey!”

He froze, realizing he’d been caught observing, he hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to you. “Uh, hey.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, jogging over to the sideline with a bright smile.

“Just walking,” he said, his tone casual, though his eyes lingered on you a little longer than he intended. “Didn’t know there was an event.”

You grinned, gesturing to the chaos behind you. “Yep! Teachers vs. Parents fundraiser. Most desks in my classroom are about two good elbows away from falling apart, so here we are.”

“That bad?” he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You have no idea." You laugh.

Carmy glanced at the court, where a small woman—Janine, if he recalled correctly—attempted a layup… and missed. Spectacularly. The ball rebounded off the rim and smacked into Jacob, who yelped and stumbled backward into an older woman, spilling her lemonade.

“Jacob!” The woman scolded, dabbing at her blouse with a napkin. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you made it this far in life.”

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” Jacob said, raising his hands defensively before being yanked back into formation by a red haired woman.

“Quit standing there like a scarecrow, Jacob,” she barked. “Play defense, for crying out loud! And somebody get Barbara another lemonade.”

“Looks... intense.” Carmy tells her.

“Oh, it is,” you said with mock seriousness. “Melissa’s out for blood, Barbara’s refusing to play, and Janine... well, she's... enthusiastic. The only one that can give us a fighting chance is Gregory." You jabbed a thumb over your shoulder toward the court.

On the court, a tall man with a serious demeanor—whom Carmy guessed was Gregory—executed a perfect jump shot, earning cheers from the teacher's side. Nearby, Janine with a bright smile, clapped enthusiastically.

"Nice shot, Gregory!" Janine called out, her admiration evident.

Carmy chuckled softly,“Sounds like you’ve got it covered.”

Before you could respond, the DJ's, Ava, voice boomed over the mic again. “Heads up! This next track is dedicated to the parents who thought they could outplay me.”

She hit a button, and Jump Around blared from the speakers.

“Is she always like this?” Carmy asked, nodding toward Ava.

“Always,” you said, grinning. “But we love her. Mostly... she's what I like to call a creative leader."

“So, this is what you do on Sundays?” He asked.

“Not every Sunday,” you said, shrugging. “But when the kids need desks, we show up. Gotta support the cause, right?”

He nodded, shifting his weight. “Seems like a good cause.”

“It is,” you said warmly, then tilted your head at him. “You can stay if you want. No pressure. But, it’s more fun than wandering around on your own, I promise.”

He hesitated, his instinct to keep moving clashing with the unexpected comfort of your presence. “I don’t know…”

“C’mon,” you teased, nudging him lightly. “I’ll even buy you a cupcake from the snack table. Chocolate, with sprinkles. The good kind.”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s your pitch? A cupcake?”

“Best ones in town,” you replied confidently. “Baked by Barbara herself. And trust me, if you’ve never had a Barbara Howard cupcake, you haven’t lived.”

For a moment, he debated it. Sundays were his least favorite day for a reason. But here, in the middle of this chaos—your chaos—it didn’t feel so bad. Finally, he let out a small sigh and nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll stay.”

“Good choice,” you replied, patting his shoulder before gesturing toward an empty spot on the sidelines. “Park it there, Chef Carmy. You’re about to witness the greatest—and messiest—game of all time.”

He watched as you jogged back, clipboard in hand, before stopping in front of Barbara, who was comfortably seated on a folding chair with her arms crossed and a bottle of water balanced neatly on her knee.

“Alright, Barbie, the game's still on track and we are five points down,” you said, tapping your clipboard against your hip with mock authority.

Barbara didn’t even flinch, raising a single unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh no, dear. I’ve done my part. My knees are not built for this level of foolishness.”

“But the kids need you!” you countered, raising your hands in a dramatic display of desperation. “Think of the desks, Barbara. The desks!”

Barbara waved a hand dismissively, though Carmy caught the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at her lips. “The children will survive, desks or no desks. But I will not survive chasing a basketball like a teenager. It’s your turn.”

You let out a dramatic, theatrical sigh, tossing your clipboard onto the bench. “Fine! Guess I’ll have to take one for the team. Again. The things I do for education.”

Barbara chuckled softly, waving you off. “Do your best, dear.”

Carmy leaned against the fence, arms crossed, as he settled in to watch. His eyes tracked your movements on the court as you threw yourself into the game with unrelenting enthusiasm. It was almost endearing—almost. You darted toward the ball, arms outstretched to block a pass—only to misjudge your angle entirely and slam directly into Jacob, who yelped as he tumbled to the ground in a heap of limbs.

The ball ricocheted off Jacob’s head, soaring through the air and narrowly missing Melissa, who jumped back with a glare.

“Watch it!” she barked.

“Sorry!” you shouted, grimacing as you crouched down to help a dazed Jacob to his feet. “That one’s on me.”

Jacob groaned, rubbing his elbow. “No worries. Just another day of being collateral damage.”

“You’re a champ,” you said, patting him on the shoulder as the ball was scooped up by one of the parents. “Shake it off!”

“Classic,” Ava’s voice boomed from the DJ table. “That’s why you don’t mix bad aim with too much confidence. Someone get this on video for the highlight reel.”

Carmy huffed a quiet laugh, leaning further into the fence as the game pressed on. Watching you, he felt the restless tension in his chest begin to ease, replaced by something lighter.

You weren’t the most graceful player on the court—far from it. Within minutes, you’d tripped over your own shoelaces, collided with Janine during an overly enthusiastic pass, and accidentally launched the ball straight into Gregory’s face. But every stumble, every misstep, was met with your laughter—a sound so warm and genuine it seemed to ripple through the air, softening everything around it.

Carmy’s smirk deepened as he watched you jog back to your spot, waving apologetically to Gregory, who gave you a long-suffering look in return.

“C’mon, Chef Carmy,” you called out suddenly, spotting him on the sidelines. “Don’t just stand there! Cheer or something! Ava promised to drop the bass for every basket we score.”

“If you score,” Ava chimed in over the mic, smirking as she adjusted her oversized sunglasses. “Let’s not set unrealistic expectations.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ava!” you shouted back, rolling your eyes.

Carmy chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure what had drawn him here or why he’d stayed, but as he leaned against the fence, watching the chaotic mix of personalities on the court, he realized something. For the first time in months, he wasn’t thinking about work. He wasn’t worrying about what needed to be done, what had gone wrong, or what could go wrong next.

Instead, he was just... here. Watching you light up the court with your unrelenting energy, the way you made even the smallest moments feel big like they mattered. Watching the Abbott crew—imperfect, loud, and utterly ridiculous—made his day feel like the best day of the week so far.

And when the game ended with a triumphant, if not entirely skilful, shot from Melissa, Carmy found himself clapping along with the rest of the crowd, the tension in his chest completely gone.

You jogged over to him, grabbed a water bottle and flopped onto the bench, tilting your head back as you took a long drink.

“You alive?” Carmy called out, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

You lowered the bottle, looking at him breathlessly but grinning, wiping sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. “Barely, but I’m thriving in spirit. Pretty impressive, right?”

He shook his head, his smirk softening into something closer to a smile. “Impressive isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Rude,” you said, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “But I’ll take it. Cupcake?”

“Sure,” he said, his voice quieter now, but warm.

And as you handed him a cupcake from the snack table, your fingers brushing his for just a second, he felt something unfamiliar—a flicker of ease, of belonging, of something good.

The sun was starting to dip lower, casting a golden hue over the park. Carmy took a bite of the cupcake, savoring the quiet moment. For the first time in a long time, the restless churn inside him had stilled.

And as he stood there, beside you, surrounded by laughter and warmth, he realized that this Sunday, chaotic as it was, might just be the best he’d had in years.

A/N: Heyyyy, thank you so much for the support. I'm on fireee lol. I hope you enjoyed it and tell me if you would like to be tagged. <3

Tags:

@hiitsmebbygrl16 @urthem00n @svzwriting29 @tyferbebe

@akornsworld @khxna @ruthyalva96 @beingalive1

Part 5

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #reader-insert #reader insert #the bear #abbott elementary #abbott elementary x reader

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ortegahaze · 8 months ago

Text

love at first fight

pairing: Cairo Sweet x gn!reader

synopsis: you meet Cairo in a dive bar, and sparks fly at first sight. Over time, the two of you share an intense connection, but her fear of getting too close leads to a fight that pushes you both to the edge. When she storms out, you chase after her, realizing just how deeply you need her.

warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, fluff, angst, fear of abandonment, family issues. i think that’s it.

a/n: i watched miller’s girl, and my spotify shuffled into LANY’s love at first fight, so that’s what you’ll get! bear with me on my first attempt at writing something!

word count: 5,1k

—

You push open the creaky door to a crowded dive bar on the Lower East Side, the warm, sticky air washing over you as you step inside. It’s one of those dim, unassuming places where the music is just a bit too loud, and the lights are almost nonexistent—perfect for people looking to get lost, even if only for a night.

Navigating through bodies and laughter, you head to the bar, scanning the room for the friends who insisted you needed a night out. You finally spot them, greet everyone, and order a drink, feeling the thump of the bass in your chest as you settle into the rhythm of the place.

After a few rounds, as conversations start to blur, you feel the need for some fresh air—and maybe a trip to the bathroom. You follow a dimly lit hallway and join a small line in front of the restroom. That’s when you see her.

She’s leaning against the wall, eyes fixed on her phone, with a slightly furrowed brow that only adds to her effortless cool. You notice her right away—her dark hair falling just below her shoulders, curtain bangs framing her striking, intense features. You watch as she raises her head, eyes flickering with curiosity before they lock onto yours.

For a moment, everything else fades, and it’s just the two of you, held in place by a magnetic pull neither of you quite understands. She studies you, her lips curving into a faint, intrigued smile. Her gaze is steady, deliberate, like she’s sizing you up, and you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement under her scrutiny.

“You waiting on the bathroom too?” you ask, nodding toward the closed door, trying to initiate some sort of conversation.

She tucks her phone into her pocket, crossing her arms as she leans in a little closer, deciding to gift you with her full attention. “I thought about cutting the line,” she replies, her voice low, with a hint of mischief. “But I’m trying to behave tonight.”

You chuckle, noting the playful gleam in her dark brown eyes. “Is that something you have to work on?” She tilts her head, considering you with a smile that makes your pulse quicken. “Depends on who’s asking. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You tell her, feeling strangely nervous, but the nerves melt away as she repeats it softly, as if testing it out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cairo.”

“Cairo,” you say, letting the name roll off your tongue. “That’s a unique name. I like it.”

She shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s grown on me. So, what brings you here?”

You laugh at her directness. “Oh, you know, just another Thursday night. Friends dragged me out of the house and into trouble.”

Her smile widens, and she leans in a little closer. “I like that. I don’t usually come to places like this, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”

The bathroom line moves, but you both stay put, caught up in your conversation. There’s a palpable energy between you, sparking with each shared glance and laugh. She’s bold, with a way of looking at you that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room, even though the bar is packed.

Cairo glances around, then turns her attention back to you, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Alright, so tell me something interesting about yourself,” she says, her gaze unwavering.

You think for a moment, trying to come up with something that might catch her attention. “I once accidentally ended up in a closed museum after hours,” you say, grinning. “Security found me taking selfies with the dinosaur exhibit.”

She lets out a laugh, her eyes lighting up. “Okay, that’s a good one. Remind me not to follow you into restricted areas.”

“Noted,” you reply, feeling warmth spread through your chest at the sound of her laughter.

The dark-haired girl steps closer, and you feel the energy between you growing, a spark that neither of you seems interested in ignoring. Talking about everything and nothing, words flow easily, punctuated by shared glances that linger just a little too long. Cairo asks you questions that dig deeper than typical small talk, and you get the sense that she’s genuinely interested in what you have to say.

Someone clears their throat impatiently behind you, reminding you of the line you’ve barely moved through, but Cairo only glances over her shoulder before looking back at you with a shrug. “Guess we’re holding things up,” she says, though she doesn’t make any move to step aside.

“Seems like it,” you say, matching her casual tone. “Not sure I’m ready to leave, though.”

“Good,” she replies, a playful gleam in her eyes. “Then let’s get out of here.”

You follow her out of the hallway and back into the main part of the bar, where the music is even louder and the lights even dimmer. She slips her hand into yours, leading you to the small dance floor near the center of the room.

The moment feels surreal, like something out of a dream, but you let yourself get lost in it, letting the music pulse around you as you move together, the crowd pressing in on all sides. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, moving in sync, bodies close and breaths mingling.

Cairo’s hands find their way to your shoulders, pulling you closer, and when she leans in, her lips brush against yours in a kiss that sends a jolt of electricity through you. It’s intense, overwhelming, and you feel yourself melting into her touch, the world around you fading until it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

After a while, you both break apart, breathless and grinning. She leads you to a quieter corner, where you spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, and stealing kisses. The hours slip by, and before you know it, the bar is starting to close up, your friends nowhere in sight.

As the night winds down, you walk with her outside to wait for her roommate, the cool air a welcome change from the heat of the bar. She turns to you, that familiar spark in her eyes, and you can’t help but smile, already wondering when you’ll see her again.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “Give me your phone.”

You chuckle, pulling out your phone and handing it to her unlocked. “Better late than never.”

She takes it, typing her number in with a quick, practiced ease, then hands it back to you. “Don’t disappear on me,” she says, a playful smirk on her lips. “I’m not done yet.”

Watching her close the distance with a quick peck on your lips, her arms resting on your neck, nails grazing the back of it. “Send me a text, and maybe we’ll continue this somewhere quieter.” She detaches herself from you, glancing back once with a smile that makes your heart race as she heads to her roommate’s car.

You look down at your phone, where her number is saved under the name “Cai.” You’re smiling as you head home, already looking forward to whatever comes next.

—

The days turn into weeks, and before you know it, you and Cairo have fallen into a rhythm that feels almost effortless. You find yourself thinking about her constantly—her quick wit, her sharp observations, and the way she makes even the most mundane moments feel alive with possibility.

It doesn’t take long for Cairo to start spending more time at your place. Her books are scattered around the apartment, and some of her clothes now occupy a corner of your dresser. One morning, you notice her toothbrush beside yours on the sink—a small, almost trivial thing, but it feels monumental, a sign that the two of you are sharing something real. Most mornings, you make coffee together, often in a rush as you both scramble to make it to class on time. You’re studying music education at NYU, and Cairo, as you quickly discover, is majoring in English Literature at Columbia.

You’re fascinated by her mind, by the way she sees the world and how she captures those feelings with words. Sometimes, she reads her writings to you, her voice soft and steady, and you find yourself captivated, hanging on every word. There’s a vulnerability in her poems, a rawness that she doesn’t always show in everyday moments, and it makes you feel like you’re glimpsing pieces of her that few others get to see.

One evening, you’re lying on your bed, a book in her hands as she rests her head on your chest, the two of you wrapped up in a comfortable silence. She’s engrossed in a collection of poems by Sylvia Plath, and you watch her as she reads, the way her brow furrows slightly whenever she comes across a line that resonates with her. After a moment, she catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Caught you staring,” she teases, nudging you gently with her elbow.

You chuckle, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “Can you blame me? You’re kind of fascinating.”

She smirks, setting the book down and propping herself up on her elbow. “You’re just saying that because you don’t understand most of these.”

“Oh, is that so?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “For the record, I appreciate literature. I just happen to be more of a music person.”

She grins, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Alright, Music Person, what’s the last good book you actually read?”

You hesitate, trying to come up with an answer, but she doesn’t wait. Instead, she grabs a notebook from her bag, flipping it open to a page covered in her neat, slanted handwriting.

“Here, let me educate you,” she says, settling back down beside you as she begins to read some of her notes. Her voice is soft, but there’s a power in her words, an energy that draws you in. She speaks with a passion that makes you feel as if you’re experiencing the books through her eyes, sharing in the emotions that each story brings to life.

When she finishes, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “You’re incredible,” you say, barely above a whisper. “I could listen to you read all day.”

A faint blush rises to her cheeks, and she ducks her head, smiling. “Yeah, well, it’s just words,” she mumbles, closing the notebook and tucking it back into her bag. But you can see the pleased expression in her eyes, and it makes you want to know her even more.

On another night, the two of you find yourselves walking along the riverfront, the cool night air wrapping around you as you talk about your lives, your dreams, the things that keep you up at night. You tell her about your goal of becoming a music teacher, how you’ve always felt that music could be a way to connect with others, to make a difference. She listens intently, her gaze never leaving yours, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest, grateful to have someone who truly cares about your passions.

“Why music education?” she asks, genuine curiosity in her voice. “You could do anything with your talent. Why teaching?”

You smile, looking out at the shimmering river as you gather your thoughts. “Because I want to give others what music gave me—a place to feel understood, to feel like they belong. I guess I just want to share that feeling with someone else.”

She nods, her expression thoughtful. “I get that. Writing’s like that for me. I can put all these thoughts and feelings down on paper and make sense of them, even when everything else feels like a mess. It’s like finding pieces of myself in the words, you know?”

“Yeah...” Feeling a rush of affection for her. She’s so open, so unguarded in moments like this, and you feel grateful to witness it. For all her confidence and sharp edges, Cairo has a tenderness about her that draws you in, a depth that makes you want to know everything about her.

There are still times, though, when you can sense her pulling back, as if she’s afraid of letting herself get too close. You see it in the way she’ll suddenly grow quiet when you talk about your childhood, her gaze turning distant. You realize that for all her brilliance, Cairo is used to keeping people at arm’s length, holding them just far enough away to keep herself safe.

Her self-sabotaging habits linger, small tells that make it clear that trust doesn’t come easily for her.

One evening, as you lie together on your bed, she turns to you, a serious expression on her face. “So, what happens when we graduate? What if this… I mean, we’re both on different paths. What if you end up teaching in another city, and I’m still here?”

You take her hand, gently tracing circles on the back of it. “We’ll figure it out when we get there. But right now, I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

She nods, but you can see the uncertainty in her eyes, a flicker of doubt she can’t quite hide. You understand; she’s had people come and go, and part of her probably believes that you will eventually, too. But you’re determined to prove her wrong, to show her that not everyone leaves. For the first time, you feel like you’ve found someone worth holding onto, and you’re not about to let her slip away.

In those moments when she lets you in, you see the side of her that’s kind, vulnerable, and deeply passionate. It’s a side that not everyone gets to see, and it only makes you fall for her harder.

The weeks pass, filled with nights spent talking, laughing, and sharing dreams and insecurities, building a connection that feels stronger with each passing day. Cairo challenges you, inspires you, and makes you feel alive in ways you hadn’t known before. And despite the little cracks, the insecurities, and the fears, you both hold onto something rare, something worth fighting for.

As you lie together, her head resting on your shoulder, you realize this is what you’ve been searching for—a connection that goes beyond words, a feeling that’s as exhilarating as it is terrifying. You’re falling for her, and deep down, you know you’re in it for the long haul, ready to face whatever comes next, as long as she’s by your side.

—

It’s been a couple of months since you and Cairo started officially dating, and things are going well. You’ve fallen into a comfortable rhythm together, and you find yourself feeling more at ease around her than you ever have with anyone else. Then, one night, you get a text from your parents—they’re in town for a couple of days and want to meet up for dinner.

Excited, you bring it up with Cairo, hoping she’ll join you. “So… my parents are in town. And they want to meet you,” you say, flashing her a warm smile as you lean over the counter where she’s flipping through one of her books.

Her reaction is almost immediate. She tenses, her fingers pausing on the page, and her gaze grows distant. “Oh,” she says, not meeting your eyes. “They want to meet me?”

“Yeah,” you reply, noting her sudden change in demeanor. “I mean, it’s just dinner. I figured it’d be nice for you to meet them. They’re great—they’d love you.”

She frowns slightly, closing her book with a sigh. “I don’t know. Meeting parents is… kind of a big deal. It just… feels a little too… serious.”

You reach over, gently taking her hand. “Hey, it’s just dinner. We don’t have to stay long, and you don’t have to do or say anything special. I just want you to meet the people who mean a lot to me.”

She hesitates, looking torn, and you can sense her reluctance. You know—or at least assume—that she has a complicated relationship with her own family, since she never shares anything about them, but you hope that she’ll agree, if only to understand a little more about your life. Finally, she lets out a breath and gives a small nod. “Alright. I’ll go.”

The dinner starts off smoothly enough. Your parents are warm and welcoming, clearly eager to get to know the special girl who’s making you happy. They ask her questions about her studies at Columbia, about her dream to become an author, and at first, she responds politely, if a bit reserved. But as the conversation shifts to family, you notice Cairo’s demeanor start to change.

“So, Cairo,” your mom says, smiling kindly. “Do you see your family often? Are they from around here?”

Cairo’s shoulders tense, and she forces a smile. “Not really,” she replies, a slight edge to her tone. “They’re pretty much always traveling. I grew up mostly on my own.”

Your parents exchange a quick glance, and your dad offers a sympathetic smile. “That must’ve been hard. You’re very independent, then.”

“Guess I had no other choice,” Cairo replies, and the words hang heavily in the air. She quickly takes a sip of her water, avoiding further eye contact.

Sensing the tension, you try to shift the conversation, hoping to steer things back into safer territory. But the rest of the dinner feels strained, and you can tell Cairo’s growing increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you wrap things up, saying your goodbyes to your parents and walking Cairo back to your apartment.

Heading back to your apartment, you can feel the tension building, a heavy silence settling between you that only seems to grow with each passing block. She has been silent since you left the restaurant, and as you step inside, she slips off her coat and heads straight to the window, arms crossed, her body tense as she stares out at the city, the light from the street lamps casting shadows across her face.

You close the door, taking a deep breath as you try to gather your thoughts.

“Cai,” you say softly, “babe, what’s going on? You’ve barely said a word since dinner.”

She doesn’t turn around. Instead, she lets out a bitter laugh, her shoulders stiffening. “Your parents were just… so perfect,” she says, her voice tight. “The way they talked about family, about you. It’s like this little fairytale that I can’t be a part of.”

Her words catch you off guard, and you step closer, trying to understand. “They weren’t trying to make you feel that way. They were just… they were just being themselves. They were trying to get to know you.”

Cairo spins around, her eyes blazing, the moonlight filtering through the window and casting shadows across her face. “But don’t you get it?” she snaps. “I didn’t have that. I didn’t grow up with parents who actually cared. Mine were never around, always off in some other part of the world, leaving me to figure things out on my own. I had empty rooms and empty promises. That’s my reality.”

You reach out, hoping to bridge the distance between you, but she steps back, her fists clenched at her sides. “Cairo, I know you’ve been through a lot. But I’m here now. I want to share my life with you—everything. I want you to feel like you’re not alone anymore.”

She shakes her head, her gaze fierce and defiant. “That’s just it, though. You’re so desperate to bring me into this perfect world of yours. But that’s not who I am, and it’s not who I’ll ever be. I’m not some puzzle piece you can just fit into your life. I don’t want to be fixed.”

“I don’t want to fix you!” you say, your voice rising in frustration. “I just want to be with you, to understand you. I want to know the real you, Cairo, all of you. But you keep pushing me away, like you’re afraid of letting me in.”

She scoffs, a flash of anger in her eyes, and you can see her jaw clench, her expression hardening as she glares at you. “Afraid? You don’t know the first thing about fear. You’ve never had to look at everyone around you and wonder how long they’re going to stick around. People leave, okay? They always do. And I’d rather end it now than wait around for you to realize I’m not worth it.”

Her words sting, and you feel a surge of desperation, a need to reach her, to break through the wall she’s built around herself. “Why are you so determined to sabotage this? To ruin something that could be good?”

She laughs, a sharp, bitter sound, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and anger. “Because that’s what I know. This is how I survive, alright? By keeping people at a distance. It’s better to feel nothing than to risk everything and end up with nothing.”

Your chest tightens, and you feel the anger bubbling up inside you, the frustration spilling over as you step closer, looking her in the eyes. “You think I’m going to leave, don’t you? You think I’m just like everyone else, ready to walk away the second things get hard. But that’s not who I am, Cairo. I’m here because I want to be, because I care about you. But you’re making it impossible when you keep shutting me out.”

The brunette clenches her jaw, her eyes blazing with an intensity that takes your breath away, and for a moment, the only sound between you is the faint hum of the city beyond the window.

The moonlight catches in her gaze, and you see the fire there, a fierce, untamed energy that both draws you in and scares you. She’s like a storm, unpredictable and powerful, and you’re caught in its path. She turns away, her shoulders heaving as she takes a shaky breath.

“This… this isn’t going to work,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m not what you need, and I can’t be what you want me to be.”

You reach out, desperation filling your voice as you try to stop her. “Cairo, don’t say that. I don’t need you to be anything other than yourself. I just need you here, with me.”

Practically interrupting you, she gives her back to you and heads for the door. She turns, looking at you one last time, and for a brief moment, you see a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. But then she shakes her head, her expression hardening once more. “I can’t do this,” she says, her voice trembling as she opens the door and storms out into the night, without even getting her coat.

The door closes behind her, leaving you standing there, alone, the silence pressing in around you like a weight. You feel the hollow ache in your chest, the pain of words left unsaid, and you sink down onto the couch, replaying the fight in your mind. You remember the way the moonlight caught in her eyes, the fire in her gaze as she looked at you, and you feel a surge of regret, a desperate need to chase after her, to tell her that you’re not giving up that easily.

You grab your coat—and hers and head out. Sprinting down the stairs, feeling each step rattle beneath you as you grip the railing, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. You’d hit the elevator button a dozen times, but it never came, leaving you with no choice but to take the stairs, every floor dragging you further into a spiral of regret and desperation.

As you descend, something inside you crystallizes—a single, undeniable truth that settles deep in your chest. Cairo has put up walls, pushed you away, tried to convince herself and you that she isn’t meant for this—but you know better. You know her and you’re not ready to let her go. Not now, not ever.

And it hits you all at once. You don’t care if the train to her dormitory isn’t running. You’ll keep running until you catch her.

It’s been two months and twenty-five days since that night at the bar, since you’d both shared a knowing smile that set off sparks. You’ve shared so many moments together since then—small, precious details that mean more than you could have imagined. And it’s in this moment, barreling down the last flight of stairs, that you realize you’ve never fought for anyone like this before. You’ve never felt so sure about anyone before.

You hit the last step and burst through the door, the cold air hitting you like a shock as you scan the street, your heart pounding. You spot her down the block, her arms wrapped tightly around her, shoulders hunched as if she’s trying to disappear into the shadows. You take off running, your voice breaking through the silence of the night as you approached.

“Cairo!”

She stops, and for a moment, you’re both suspended there, the world around you quiet and still. She doesn’t turn, but you can tell from the way she holds herself, the slight tremor in her shoulders, that she’s struggling. You catch up to her, breathless, reaching out to gently touch her arm, handing her the coat. She pulls away, just slightly, but getting the piece of clothing and wearing it, still standing close enough to let you know that she’s listening.

“Please,” you say, voice barely more than a whisper. “Don’t go. Not like this.”

She doesn’t respond right away, and you can see her clenching her jaw, the moonlight casting shadows across her face, illuminating the fierce, guarded expression in her eyes. “Why did you follow me?” she asks, her tone filled with a mix of anger and something else—something raw and wounded.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “Because I can’t just let you walk away. I can’t pretend that this fight didn’t happen, and I can’t pretend that I don’t care. Cairo, I’ve never fought with anyone like this before. And maybe that’s because I’ve never wanted anyone like this before.”

Her eyes flicker, and you can see the conflict warring within her, the tension in her shoulders as she struggles to hold herself together. “You don’t understand,” she says, her voice trembling. “I’m not… I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to be the person you want me to be.”

“I’m not asking you to be anyone but yourself,” you reply, stepping closer. “I don’t need perfection. I need you—the real you. The one who’s scared and fierce and so damn beautiful that I can’t think straight when I’m around you.”

She looks down, her fingers twisting together as she takes a shaky breath. “I’ve never let anyone this close,” she whispers. “I don’t know how to let someone stay.”

“You never really know someone until you see the other side of them,” you say softly, the realization settling deep inside you. “I didn’t know you were the one until tonight, until we almost lost this. But now I know, and I’m not letting you go.”

Her gaze finally lifts, meeting yours, and you see the tears shining in her eyes, the vulnerability she’s so carefully hidden beneath the anger and sarcasm. Slowly, she reaches out, her fingers brushing against yours as if she’s afraid that you might disappear.

“I’m afraid,” she admits, her voice breaking. “Afraid that if I let you in, you’ll see all the things I’ve tried to bury, and you’ll decide I’m not worth the effort.”

You take her hand, holding it tightly, grounding her in the moment. “Cairo, I’ve already seen them. And I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m not going anywhere.” She lets out a shaky breath, a tear slipping down her cheek as she looks up at you, her expression softening, the fire in her eyes replaced by something warmer, something hopeful.

“I don’t know if I can promise that I won’t push you away again,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “But I… I want to try. I want this. I want you.”

A surge of relief washes over you, and without thinking, you pull her into your arms, holding her close as she wraps her arms around your waist, clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping her grounded. You can feel her heart racing against yours, the warmth of her breath against your neck, and for the first time, you feel a sense of peace, a quiet certainty that you’re both exactly where you’re meant to be.

As you pull back, you look into her eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you finally let the words spill out. “I love you, Cairo Sweet. I don’t need things to be perfect. I just need you, with all your flaws and fire. Because you’re the only one I want, and I’m ready to fight for this, as long as it takes.”

She stares at you, her eyes wide, and then she lets out a breath, a small, almost incredulous smile breaking through her tears. “I love you too,” she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet, unguarded honesty that makes your heart swell. “Even if I’m still a little scared… I love you.”

You pull her close again, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and for a moment, the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other. You can feel the weight of the past slipping away, replaced by a warmth that fills every corner of your heart, a quiet promise of all the things yet to come.

Finally, you step back, still holding her hand as you start walking together, side by side. It’s been two months and twenty-five days, but you knew without a doubt that her toothbrush was there to stay, and so was she. You both share a quiet smile, knowing that while the road ahead won’t be easy, but it’s one you’re ready to face together.

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega imagine #cairo sweet #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet x y/n #millers girl #miller's girl #liwriting

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rafecameronssl4t · 9 months ago

Note

can u do dcc!reader x Rafe where they’re both at like an event, obvs reader w the other cheerleaders and Rafe with his other teammates and he sees when a man touches your waist even tho they aren’t allowed to bc of the no touching rule and the security guard doesn’t notice until you tell him to get his hands off of you. maybe the guy even goes up to Rafe to ask for a photo but he’s rude to him bc he was touching her girl

Hands off || nfl player!Rafe Cameron x dcc!reader

A/n: so creative anon! thank you :)

Warnings: unwanted touching from stranger, lil bit of angst at end if you squint

Word count: 1,973

MASTERLIST (nfl!rafe x dcc!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The "no touch" policy was quite simple: fans were not allowed to touch the cheerleaders. Footballs were brought to every stand and pose event. This gave fans something to hold during photos, making the interaction less awkward and minimising any potential for psychical contact.

Not everyone knew the rule, though, and some would instinctively try to put their arms around the cheerleaders for a photo. Thankfully, security was always on hand, watching and ready to step in, instructing fans to keep their distance.

Over the three years you've been a dcc, you’ve never had a bad experience with this policy. It’s become second nature, and you trust the system. So when you and a few of the other girls arrive at the event, where fans will be meeting you and taking photos, you think little of it.

The familiar buzz of excitement fills the room, and as you scan the crowd, your eyes land on Rafe. He’s on the other side of the room, already engaged in conversation with a fan. A small smile tugs at your lips as you take in his casual outfit: a pair of well-worn jeans, a black shirt that fits him just right, and a green baseball hat.

Before you can admire him any longer, Kelcey pulls you along to start taking photos. The first few interactions go smoothly, with fans smiling as they pose beside you, football in hand. Of course, there are always a few who try to get a little too close, but security is quick to intervene, keeping everything under control.

As you smile for the camera, you’re completely unaware of Rafe’s gaze locked on you from across the room. His eyes trail over your figure, captivated by your appearance. Your radiant smile, the way you carry yourself—everything about you seems to draw him in. He watches intently, his attention fixed solely on you, as if nothing else in the room matters.

“Watcha lookin’ at?” Chris asks, nudging Rafe’s shoulder with a playful grin. He follows Rafe’s line of sight, his curiosity piqued. It doesn’t take long for Chris to figure out what—or rather, who—has captured Rafe’s attention. A knowing smirk spreads across his face as he spots you across the room. “Coach’s daughter, huh?” he chuckles, turning back to Rafe, who still hasn’t torn his eyes away from you.

Chris can’t resist teasing him a bit more. “Heard from a few fans ‘round here that she’s their favourite,” he comments, watching Rafe’s expression carefully. Rafe scoffs, but the amusement is clear in his eyes. “Too bad. It’s not like it’s my name she’s—” “Woah there, bud. Too much info. Jesus,” Chris interrupts with a laugh, shaking his head as he holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t need to hear all that.”

As Chris walks back to the others, still chuckling to himself, Rafe remains rooted to the spot, his gaze never straying from you. The smirk on his lips only deepens as he watches you, the teasing from Chris barely registering in his mind.

His thoughts are entirely occupied by you—your smile, the way you move, the effortless way you light up the room. Even from across the room, it’s clear that you have a magnetic pull on him, one that he has no desire to resist.

Rafe’s gaze narrows as he notices a man approach you and the other cheerleaders. Even from a distance, it’s clear that this guy’s attention is solely on you. The way he barely acknowledges the others, his focus only really locking on you when it’s his turn for a photo, makes it obvious to anyone paying attention—this man has a particular interest in you.

Rafe watches intently, a sense of unease creeping in as the man lingers around you. Something about him doesn’t sit right. The usual football, meant to occupy fans' hands and prevent unwanted contact, has somehow gone missing, and security is scrambling to find a replacement. In that brief moment of chaos, the man sees his opportunity.

Rafe’s muscles tense as he watches the man discreetly slide his hand around your back. His fingers hover just above your exposed skin, as if hesitating, before finally making contact with your waist and smoothly resting on your hip. It’s a subtle move, but to Rafe, it’s glaringly inappropriate.

His jaw clenches tightly, frustration bubbling up as he realises the sea of fans between you and him would make it impossible to reach you in time. He feels a surge of protectiveness and helplessness all at once.

But then, he notices your reaction. You don’t hesitate—your hand quickly grabs his, pulling it firmly away from your body. Your expression is unreadable from where Rafe stands, but he can see that you’re saying something to the man, your words lost in the noise of the crowd. Fortunately, before the situation escalates further, the security guard steps in. His large frame moves between you and the man, effectively blocking any further contact.

Rafe exhales, tension still coiled in his muscles, but relieved that you handled the situation with the confidence and poise he’s come to admire in you. Even from across the room, he can see that you’re okay, but that doesn’t stop the protective instinct from simmering just beneath the surface.

The moment you make eye contact with the fan, a strange vibe settles over you. There’s something off about the way he looks at you, his gaze intense and fixated. Still, you smile at him, greeting him politely even as he barely acknowledges the other girls.

His focus is entirely on you, and you can feel the discomfort creeping in. A quick glance at Kelcey and Reece confirms they feel it too, their eyes mirroring your unease. "Hi, how are you?" you ask, maintaining your practiced smile as the man approaches. You guide him to the center, between you and Kelcey, trying to keep things professional.

"I'm so great," he replies, grinning at you in a way that makes your skin crawl. You nod, forcing a smile, though the unease gnaws at you. "You're even more gorgeous up close," he comments, his voice laced with something that makes you nervously chuckle.

"Thank you..." you reply, your voice trailing off as you notice the security guards in conversation. Concern flickers in your eyes, and you glance at Kelcey for confirmation. "They lost the football," she whispers, and you nod in understanding, trying to keep your composure.

"Did the other guy maybe take it with him—" Before you can finish your sentence, you feel it—a hand sliding onto your waist, then resting on your hip bone. Your body tenses, and without hesitation, you step away, firmly pulling his hand off of you.

"Please do not touch me," you say, your voice steady and commanding. The firmness of your tone catches the attention of everyone around you. The man’s bravado crumbles in an instant, replaced by nervousness as all eyes turn on him. "I didn’t mean to—sorry," he stammers, but the lie is obvious, his excuse flimsy.

You narrow your eyes slightly, your patience wearing thin. "You didn’t mean to feel up my waist and hip?" you challenge, your voice tinged with defensiveness. Before the situation can escalate further, a security guard steps in, his imposing presence effectively cutting off the interaction.

"Okay, that’s enough," the guard says firmly, positioning himself between you and the man. "Sir, were you aware that there is a strictly no-touching rule when it comes to taking pictures with the cheerleaders?" The man gulps, his earlier confidence evaporating. "No—no, I had no idea—"

The guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You’re telling me you haven’t seen the signs that are everywhere informing you about this?" His tone leaves no room for argument. "Move along, please," the guard instructs, gesturing with a dismissive wave of his hand. As the man sheepishly slinks away, the guard turns to you, his voice softening. "Miss, are you okay?"

You nod, your pulse still racing but your composure intact. "I’m fine, thank you," you reply, your voice steady. Kelcey and Reece quickly move to your side, their concern evident as they guide you away from the scene.

"Let’s get to the changing rooms," Kelcey murmurs, her arm around your shoulder as the next group of cheerleaders takes over. You allow yourself to be led away, grateful for the support, but also determined not to let the incident shake you.

Rafe watches intently as you disappear from view with the other girls, a tightness in his chest gradually loosening as you’re led safely away. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, turning back to face the next round of fans lining up for pictures. His mind is still half on you, replaying the scene over in his head, but he forces himself to focus on the task at hand.

A few more fans pass by, offering handshakes and snapping photos, but then something catches Rafe’s eye—a familiar face in the crowd. It’s him. The same guy who had touched you earlier. Rafe’s entire body stiffens, his muscles tensing as a wave of anger surges through him.

His glare sharpens, eyes narrowing on the man who seems completely oblivious to the fury directed his way. The guy casually makes his way down the line of players, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, utterly unaware of the storm brewing in Rafe’s eyes.

When the man finally reaches Rafe, he extends his hand with the same nonchalant attitude, expecting another casual greeting. But Rafe has no intention of letting this slide. He grasps the man’s hand in a firm, vice-like grip, squeezing just hard enough to send a clear message.

The man’s expression shifts from easygoing to startled as he looks up at Rafe, his brows furrowing in confusion. Rafe meets his gaze head-on, his eyes cold and unyielding. There’s no need for words; the intensity of Rafe’s stare says it all. The man fidgets slightly, trying to mask his discomfort, but it’s clear he’s rattled by the unexpected show of strength and the silent warning in Rafe’s eyes.

The handshake lingers a beat too long, the tension thick in the air, before the man awkwardly pulls his hand back, mumbling something under his breath as he moves on to the next player. Rafe watches him go, his jaw still clenched. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, but the anger simmering beneath the surface remains.

When it came time for the group photo, Rafe made sure his smile was practiced, not genuine, his eyes cold as the man stood at the center of the group. The man's audacity to remain at the event after what he had done gnawed at Rafe, his mind replaying the earlier scene with a growing sense of disbelief and anger.

As soon as the photo was taken and the man left, Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head, barely able to contain his frustration. "I need to take five. Gotta hit the bathroom," Rafe said to the event coordinator, his tone controlled but urgent. "Yeah, sure, go ahead," she replied, barely glancing up as she continued to redirect the flow of fans.

Without wasting another second, Rafe made his way to the girls' changing room, his heart pounding with concern. He knocked in a familiar rhythmic pattern, the signal you both had used before to let each other know it was safe to open up.

You opened the door, and before you could say a word, Rafe swept you off your feet, pulling you into a tight embrace. The door clicked shut behind him as he nudged it closed with his foot, his arms wrapping around you protectively. The tension you’d been holding onto melted away the moment you felt his warmth, your own arms sliding around his waist.

"I saw what happened," he murmured against your hair, his voice soft but filled with concern. "You okay?" You let out a shaky breath, your face buried in his chest as you absorbed the comfort he offered. "Not really," you admitted quietly, the vulnerability in your voice evident. "But I'll be fine."

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, his grip steady and reassuring. He didn’t say anything, just held you close, letting the silence speak for the care he felt. He knew you were strong, that you could handle yourself, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to shield you from every bad moment, every unsettling experience. He couldn’t change what had happened, but he could be there for you now, and that was enough.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, just holding onto each other as the world outside faded into the background. Rafe’s presence was a balm to your frayed nerves, grounding you in a way that made the fear and unease dissipate, if only for a little while.

Finally, Rafe leaned back just enough to look at you, his hand gently cupping your face. "If you need anything, you tell me, alright? You don’t have to go through this alone." You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you, Rafe. I’m glad you’re here."

His gaze softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. "Always," he whispered, the promise clear in his voice.

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lxclerc · 2 years ago

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𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... a reunion between old lovers after five years and charles can't keep his eyes off of you. or his thoughts for that matter. faceclaim... christina nadin pairing… charles leclerc x reader warning… none so far. petty charles.

note... this is going to be part of a series that includes both one shots and smau but can be read as a stand alone

series masterlist

main masterlist

part two → current (part three) → part four

charles is a mess. truthfully this is to be expected but after five years, he thought he would be better than this but alas, you’re still as magnetic as he remembered you to be – even more so, if he’s being completely honest with himself.

you look different – older. where they used to be rounded, baby face is all sharp bones. your hair looks different, longer and styled. and you smell different too, no longer the floral scent you’ve been using since you turned fourteen.

you’re a stranger, he thought. he no longer knows your favorite color or your favorite meal or if you still like strawberry yogurt. he doesn’t know your favorite show or what perfume you use. he doesn’t know you. you’re a stranger and yet your eyes still do that thing where it creases to the point of being close when you smile and you still run your hand over your hair in an attempt to subtly fix it and your eyes still looks like pooled honey when the sun shines on it.

you’re so different, a practical stranger and yet so familiar, like going back to a childhood home finding everything in the wrong place yet still knowing your way around with your eyes closed.

he’s staring. he knew he is and he knew the amount of trouble he’d get from his team for it. he knew that everyone on twitter was probably already freaking out about it. he had clear instructions to act like nothing had happened and that the leaked pictures didn’t exist all. he’s supposed to act like you’re just another interviewer and this is just another media obligation he’s forced to do and you’re no one to him but he can’t help it. he can’t pretend like you’re a stranger when you left such a big imprint in his soul and he doesn’t have every freckle and skin tag and every inch of your skin memorized.

and so he stares. he stares at the way you shift in your seat in an attempt to get comfortable. he stares at the way the long sleeved white dress hugged your curves. he stares at the way you smile, the way you laugh. he stares and tries to remind his heart the way you’d left, the way he’d begged you stay. with you a few feet in front of him, closer than you’ve ever been in years, charles reminds himself the things he had to do to put himself back together after you broke him.

he tells himself that he hates you the same way he has been telling himself for five years now. he hates you and the way you walked away from him so easily. he hates you and the way you moved on so quickly. he hates you now for the way you’re not even affected. he hates you for loving him only to leave him.

“and that’s all for today, everyone,” you say with that dazzling smile that makes him dizzy. he needs to get away from you. you’re clouding his judgment and messing with his emotions.

after making sure the camera has stopped rolling, charles quickly removes the mic attached to him. the smile drops from your face as you see him so desperately hurried to get away from you. though you supposed you deserved that.

“mate, you good?” carlos asked him quietly as charles practically slams the mic on the table. he seems worried and charles hadn’t even realized how angry he looks right now. he glanced at you, watching as you discussed with the producer, the wind blowing at your hair and the careless smile on your face. he hates you but you’re also the most beautiful person he’s ever met. he hates you and he’s so fucking tired of wanting you.

he forced a smile on his face for carlos’ sake. “fine.”

he’s already walking away when you called his name, not like you had in the show – filled with fake friendliness. this time, his name rolled off your tongue effortlessly. you called his name like you had a thousand times before, like nothing has ever changed. the entire set was calling to him but he didn’t seem to hear.

“charles,” you called and immediately, he stopped in his tracks. he only heard your call and somehow that made him angrier at himself than he ever could be at you.

his face is empty and void of any emotions as he turns to you and you swallow down the lump in your throat as you force a smile at him. you hoped it doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “we need to take a picture. for social media.”

he may as well have spat at you with the look in his eyes. it made you feel small. he makes you feel small and suddenly you’re eighteen again, so small and insignificant next to him.

as you and the two ferrari drivers posed for the photo, both charles and carlos respectfully wrapped an arm around you. you can feel the heat of charles’ body next to you, seeping right through your dress and spreading across your skin. his cologne is different – more rich and expensive but somehow still so him but his aftershave is the same as it has been since he was fifteen, so familiar and comforting to you and you almost can’t help but lean into him.

he’s pulling away before you can gather your thoughts, already walking away from you.

—

charles should be celebrating. he finished on the podium which is pretty much a miracle nowadays. in fact, it’s a miracle to even be finishing the race with how his season is going but he’s been pretty distracted the whole weekend, seemingly only ever able to get you out of his head whenever he’s going two hundred miles per hour. he almost wants to laugh if he doesn't feel so pathetic. it’s somehow still exactly like before - with him needing to find some ways to risk his life just to be able to get you out of his mind.

drinking the night away as he wallowed in self pity due to the thought of you is also entirely too familiar.

“mon pote, comment peux-tu encore la laisser te faire ça ?” hugo asked, watching him. “cela fait des années” mate, how are you still letting her do this to you?... it’s been years.

charles only gave a sarcastic smile. he doesn’t entirely know the answer to do that either. apparently the years between the two of you didn’t matter because you still have the exact same reaction to him. you make him lose his fucking mind, unable to to think straight. he does things he says he never will when it comes to you. he becomes desperate and weak and unable to handle his own emotions. he doesn’t understand himself when you’re around.

maybe that’s why you left in the first place. the two of you affected each other far too much. it’s entirely too easy to get lost in each other and forget about everything else.

“elle a l'air différente. elle a aussi une odeur différente,” he says before taking another shot. you’re so different and he hated it. he hates that there are things in your life he doesn’t know anymore. he hates the fact that you changed your perfume and that you can so easily pretend like he’s no one to you. if you can act like he’s no one to you so easily then perhaps he didn’t mean as much to you as he thought he did. she looks different. she smells different too.

you were his lifeline, the air in his lungs. you were everything and he would have given up anything just to keep you. he would have given up racing and his dreams – everything so he didn’t have to lose you.

joris rolls his eyes. he knows this entirely too well unfortunately, he’s seen this exact scene before. “cela fait cinq ans, charles. bien sûr qu'elle a changé.” it's been five years, charles. of course she's changed.

that only makes him laugh bitterly.

—

on the other side of the city lies you, cocooned in your fleece blanket as you stare at the wall.

throughout the years that you and charles have bumped into each other, it had mostly been just surprise in his eyes – as though he could never quite believe that you’re in front of him. usually, you’ll be gone before it can change.

today was different. there’s no surprise in his eyes nor was there any of the familiar warmth you’re so used to. today, he was filled with anger and indifference. he looked at you as though he hated you. and the worst part is that he probably does. the entire time it was as though he couldn’t get away from you fast enough, like he couldn’t stand even being in the same room as you. your entire life, charles has only ever looked at you with adoring and devoted eyes and now he can’t even stand to look at you.

“il ne vous déteste pas,” arthur says over the phone with a roll of his eyes as though you’re being ridiculous for even suggesting such things. he doesn’t hate you.

but arthur wasn’t there. arthur didn’t see how charles practically ran away from you. still, you say nothing to the matter, far too upset to even bother trying to defend yourself.

“i’m going to go to sleep, art,” you say softly instead. “it’s pretty late here.”

you and arthur say your goodnights before you shut off the call. but just as you’re about to place your phone down for the tonight, it lights up with a text message. your eyebrows knit together in confusion. who’d be texting you this late anyways?

taglist: @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @iamahallucinationn @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes @applopie @sukisheadlights @iampersonn @blueflorals @marialovesf1 @charli123456789 @127deob1

#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau #smau #social media #formula 1 smau

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 1 year ago

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Orbiting: pt.1°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [600+ idiot fwb to lovers; mutual pining, both has the libido of a teenage boy, it's so cliche it's unbelievable how clueless they are]

“Don’t stop baby,” Jungkook moans. He love-hates how you're slowly bouncing on top him. On one hand, he loves how you use him to pleasure yourself, slowly sinking inch by inch until you spear yourself on his cock. On the other, he wants nothing else than to fuck you dumb and to his pace—hard and unrelenting, he wants nothing spilling on your lips but his name and moans of pleasure.

"Come on, Y/N," he urges as he tries to thrust into you, his cock impaling you on top of him and you can't help but moan louder. "Fuck," you pant, "do that again." And so he does, planting his feet on the bed, his hips angled, he pistons his cock into you, bottoming out. Your body goes pliant above him as you submit yourself to your shared pleasure, your mouths move like magnets finding each other and momentarily locking in a heated kiss.

Jungkook reaches for your hand, brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles, and it has you fucked. It's small gestures like this that makes not only your pussy clench, but your heart, too. It just feels too intimate, as if you're more than good friends seeking each other out after his game for a good fuck to relax his adrenaline.

Needing to ground yourself, you pin his hand beside his head and pull him for another kiss. Because a kiss, you can handle. You've kissed many times before—your lips already familiar to his teasing bites, your tongues danced sloppily around each other's mouth a thousand times.

With his other hand rubbing your clit, you unravel within minutes. Jungkook erratically thrusts below you, chasing his high, until heavy grunts leave his lips as he cums.

"Fuck, that was..." you pant, mind blanking as you look for the right word, still in a bliss. Jungkook only chuckles, hand caressing your back, basking in your afterglow.

But the moment is short-lived, and Jungkook eyes you as you pull away, "Second round at my place?"

"Not today," you pout, "I have to be at the rink in about...5 minutes."

"Can I watch?"

"Nope. Coach says it's closed practice for today. Something about a new skater coming in for tryouts." You're rushing to get dressed and Jungkook helps by fixing your skirt.

"Again?"

"Yep, apparently the last guy said I was too much of a bitch to skate with," Jungkook sees you roll your eyes. "Ah. That just means he can't keep up and you bruised his ego."

"Right," you humor him, watching him pull away to pick up his clothes, "you said that about the last guy, too."

Jungkook hums, "Him, too."

"And what about you? You can keep up with me, right?"

Knowing where the conversation's going, Jungkook faces you, "Y/N, that was for fun. And we were teens then," he chuckles, "I tackle men now and hit pucks on the ice," he's walking back to you, "none of what I do fits the graceful criteria your coach is looking for."

You giggle, having already known his answer but it's worth the ask because you've seen Jungkook bust a move on ice. Granted, not as graceful as you, but even you started out stiff.

"Right," strands of your bangs fall on your face as you nod, and Jungkook's hands, like habit, reach out to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture not lost on you and your knees buckle. If only there were no consequences from missing today's practice, you would gladly suck his cock dry right here and now.

"Plus, seeing the routines you do, there would be too much tension building between us that by the middle of a routine," his eyes flicker to your lips, "I might end up taking you on ice."

Oh, you are his to ruin. If only he knew.

Pulling your mind out of the gutter, you scoff, eyes rolling once again and push him by the chest. Again, Jungkook only laughs as he takes your hand and leads you out of the lockers.

>> Page 2

#jeon jungkook #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts angst #fwb au #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you

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realcube · 6 months ago

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dilf december

day ten ⭑ kageyama tobio ⭑ caught under the mistletoe!

tw // NSFW MINORS DNI, vaginal, implied anal, heavy degradation, slight impact play & cervix bruising

winter training has been extremely intense for kageyama so far.

he'll come at around six, all sweaty and gross from the gym, and will barely even exchange pleasantries with you before he rushes into the shower. then, after he's cleaned himself up, he'll trudge to the kitchen — hair still damp and dripping with water — and expect you to have prepared him a high-protein, well-rounded meal from scratch for dinner.

meawhile, you need to find a way to tell him that you didn't feel like cooking so you ordered pizza instead.

you'll maybe converse a little with him over the meal, then watch tv or chill out for an hour before he heads to bed. overall, you're not too opposed to this arrangement, as you know he needs to work hard to keep his health and physique intact since his retirement, especially as he doesn't want to look unfit for the swedish adler holiday soiree coming up that is bound to have reports and press present. plus, it's not like you don't get to spend anytime with him at all; you have dinner together, hang out for a while afterwards, and if that isn't enough, he'll invite you get in the shower with him.

but your main gripe is that you're hardly intimate anymore. since he's doing so much excerise, he often complains that he is too sore and tired to have sex, and he'd hate to make you do all the work. which makes you worry that there isn't a spark between the two of you anymore, and maybe you don't have the same allure that you once did.

at first, you tried to reassure yourself that there was a chance he was just approaching the age were his testosterone is beginning to naturally decrease and therefore his libido was going down with it. however, you quickly deemed that to be quite unlikely, considering he is only 37.

regardless, you felt the need to prove to yourself that you were still as attractive as you once were, and that you still had the magnetic spark about you that made kageyama obsess over you and fuck you like a rabbit in heat during the prime of his volleyball career.

so, before he comes back from training one day, you have everything prepared so that when he enters the house, he is met with the sight of the lights in the foyer dimmed, and rose-scented candles lit on the accent tables. additionally, there was a single piece of greenery dangling from the doorway.

once you hear the door shut behind him, you quietly slink into the room, wearing only a silk robe. short enough that it rode up as you walked, even while you took small strides, high enough that he could tell you weren't wearing anything underneath. it also folded low enough to expose ample cleavage, which is where kageyama's eyes naturally zeroed in on.

"what's this?" he said with a flat effect, his strict stare not faltering even as you neared him. watching your tits bounce slightly with every step already had him pitching a tent.

"i've been missing you, tobio.." you whine, gazing up at him seductively as you lace your fingers in with his. "it's like you've forgotten all about me."

"i'd never forget about you.." he mutters. then, clears his throat and motioned upwards, "but what is that?"

"mistletoe." you clarify with a playful smile, "you know what that means, don't you?"

once you get close enough that he loses sight of your tits, he allows himself to get lost in your doe eyes. fixing his hand on your lower back to pull you against him, as you both lock lips for a passionate kiss.

during which, you began to teasingly grind your hips against his erection, and use your free hand to feel up his chest. this drove him crazy, as he realised just how much pent-up sexual tension he has, which was all beginning to bubble and fizz in the pit of his stomach at once.

he groaned lowly into the kiss, his lips vibrating against yours for only a moment before he pulls away and rasps, "let me show you how much i've missed you."

with that, he picks up swiftly, as though you were weightless, with one hand positioned on your waist and the other grabbed your bare ass roughly from under your silk robe. he places you down on the ground, laying on your back at first until he flips you over by your hips, also pushing your ass up in the process.

despite the fact that your whole ass and damp pussy were already on display, he tugs your robe off anyway because he wants to see absolutely everything. he admires your pretty holes presented before him, and his hot urges stir in his stomach, and he licks his lips as he realises how much he has been craving you.

and how much he needs to be buried in your tight cunt.

he starts by licking his thumb and circling your clit, smirking at the stifled moans it elicits from you. next, he ventured towards your pussy, to assess how wet you are.

"soaked already.." he grunts, shallowly thumbing your hole, "needy bitch."

he slaps your ass, causing you to whimper, but he is simply entranced by the way your ass jingles under his harsh touch. he does it again on the other cheek with his spare hand, while the other works on pulling his gym shorts down and pulling his dick free.

already rock hard, it springs out of his shorts and lightly taps your ass, he guides it between your lips, marinating in your juices and teasing your poor, aching pussy for a while. though he doesn't have the self-control to do it for much longer, as he is also desperate to get balls-deep inside you.

so, shortly after, he rams into you, allowing his thick cock to split your tight, untrained pussy right open. a sharp, lustful pain pulses through you, which translates to a prolonged moan being torn from your throat. your walls cling to him, but you're just wet enough that he is able to slip himself all the way in, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix.

kageyama doesn't waste any time before he starts laying into you repeatedly; his big hands on your waist holding you in place as his cocks slams into you, over and over, and an ungodly speed. you could tell there was quite a lot of tension he must be trying to release, as his pace was feverent and rough, and with each harsh thrust, his cock would bruise your cervix even more.

but you loved it. having him treat you like his own little fleshlight, and using your hungry cunt solely for his own pleasure. the way his dick thrashed your insides was so brutal yet so good, it sent waves of pleasure and ecstasy coursing through your body. a feeling that you've missed so dearly.

his teeth were gritted together for the most part, but whenever he'd hit that gummy spot inside you that would cause you to moan extra loud and your walls to clamp down around his throbbing cock, he'd murmur something to the effect of, "slutty hole.. driving me fucking crazy.."

it wasn't long before he came all undone inside you, pulling out just in time to shoot some of his load onto your soaking lisp and clit, the combination of juices beginning to drip onto the hardwood floor beneath.

he takes heavy, laboured breaths, and so do you. he takes off his shirt and uses it to wipe sweat off his forehead before casting it aside, silently admiring your gorgeous, glistening pussy while he tried to catch his breath.

eventually, under the assumption you were done, you attempted to sit up from the doggy-style position he had put you in, however he is quick to fix a hand on your lower back and push you back into place. "what do you think you're doing? i'm not done with you yet."

he states plain, straightening himself up and spreading your cheeks to expose your puckered asshole. he runs a damp finger over it and muses, "if you're gonna act like a desperate slut, i may as well use you like one."

#kageyama smut #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama x you #kageyama x y/n #tobio kageyama #tobio tenma #tobio x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu time skip #dilf⭑december

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seungfl0wer · 4 months ago

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*Daddy Jisung*

Daddy Series:

Contains Smut:

-💜

•He’s such a big softy.

•It doesn’t take much of anything to persuade him.

•But that goes both ways.

•He tries to act all big and tough.

•His favorite thing to do is tightening jars so you have to ask him to open them.

•He just finds it so cute when your eyes almost light up at ‘how strong he is’.

•He’s definitely not afraid of you calling him daddy in public either.

•He use to get all flustered when you did but now.

•It just melts him almost.

•He loves makings forts with you too.

•All the stuffies, blankets and snacks all under a fort to snuggle and watch movies.

•He has so many pictures and videos of you being adorable.

•Loves the candid ones where you’re focused or just doing mundane things.

•There’s so many times where he comes home.

•Lays his head on your lap and just stares up at you with all the love in his eyes.

•He’s such a big clinger too. He just wants to constantly cuddle you or hold your hand.

•It’s like trying to separate magnets.

•He’s not super good at putting his thoughts into words so he likes making you songs.

•Has a whole mixtape of songs just for you.

•He also likes pushing your buttons just so he can see that little pout of yours.

•”Awe I’m sorry baby, but you just look adorable when you’re annoyed”

•Whenever you give him attitude it can go one of two ways.

•70% of the times it’s hip telling you to stop.

•He only gives you a few warnings before he’s really scolding you.

•”Baby, you know how to act. And this isn’t it. You know better”

ੈ♡˳Smut Below

•So the other way he likes to fix your attitude is grabbing his favorite pair of handcuffs.

•Getting you restrained and edging you till you’re apologizing like a good girl.

•He’ll build you up to so many orgasms before pulling himself away from you.

•He also enjoys just having you restrained and jerking himself off.

•This might be one of the worst ones cause he’s letting out such pretty noises and you can’t do a damn thing about it.

•Head. Receiving. Or giving.

•I fully believe he comes home on bad days and wants nothing more than to have you sitting on his face.

•He’s very needy. He’s like a dog in heat half the time.

•Rounds after rounds.

•He’s a sucker for you riding him though.

•To see your beautiful body over him bouncing in his cock.

•Super vocal.

•Talks nonstop when he’s not making noises.

•”Baby daddy just needs to taste you.”

•”Fuck baby, so messy just how I like”

•”Daddy just needs you, needs you so bad”

•”You were just giving me attitude and now you want me to let you cum? Gotta beg harder”

•Oh and remember how I said he likes taking pictures of you?

•Yeah he has a whole folder of videos and pictures that he uses while he’s away.

•Aftercare is a lot of soft talking.

•You constantly have to reassure him he didn’t hurt you.

•He can get a little emotional after a strong session.

•Scared he might have done something.

•He just loves you so absolutely much that the thought of that crushes him.

•You both always end up cuddling so close together.

•And he really loves cuddling being inside you. Sometimes it’s not even sexual.

•Just being connected like that feels the best.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143

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5ueckers · 1 year ago

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but i'm a cheerleader

pairing : paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader

warnings : smut. semi–public sex.

notes : this is highkey unrealistic af so don't think too hard abt it! also i got kinda lazy while proofreading and editing, so there may be some errors/might feel a bit clunky at times, sorry in advance 🫠

words : 2148

xl center erupts with screams and applause as the final buzzer rings out— the university of connecticut’s women’s basketball team, for the tenth game in a row, has come out victorious, winning with a whopping forty–seven points over their competitors.

you jump up from where you’ve been sitting cross–legged at the baseline of the court and shake your bright red pom–poms, yelling out one of your cheers. the rest of the girls follow suit after you, their captain, perfectly in sync as the pep band begins to play the uconn husky fight song.

you’re never not tired as hell at the end of a game— the exhaustion from your halftime performance starting to set in and your head dully aching from your tight half–up–half–down hairstyle— but none of that ever deters you. you’re captain for a reason, bringing sharp precision, clean lines, and high energy to every performance, whether its on a court, field, or stage.

but of course, even the best of best have their weaknesses.

yours has actually landed you in trouble before, just once— you missed a whole count because you were distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes watching you intently from uconn’s bench, her intrigued expression being replaced by a smirk once she realized she’d caused your mishap. coach really chewed you out next practice, but you got got the blue–eyed girl’s number after that game, so it was honestly kind of worth it.

your post–game cheer earns its own round of applause from the remaining fans in the stands, and you bow, shaking your poms the whole way back to the baseline, where your coach awaits you. she offers a few nice jobs and back pats, as well as a fair share of critiques, before finally telling you all you’re free to go.

while the rest of your team head for the cheer locker room, you start toward the opposite direction. “y/n?!” one of your teammates calls out after you, confused.

“go on, i’ll meet you guys later!” you reply, before running to meet paige at the other side of the court, by the stands.

there’s still a large crowd of fans waiting to take pictures and have their jerseys signed by your girlfriend, but once she notices you approaching, she yells out, “alright, y’all, that’s it for tonight! thanks for coming!”

her voice softens when she turns to you and smiles, “hey.”

“hey, you,” you say gingerly, hyper–aware of the cameras fixed on paige, and so also you, by extension.

she nods her head in the direction of the arena’s large exit doors, silently instructing you to follow her.

you keep a safe distance while you’re still in the presence of the fans and cameras and the media, but as soon as you’re both in the tunnel, so dark that no one can see you, paige is all over you. her hands fly to your waist if they’re under the control of a magnetic pull as her lips press to yours, gasping into your mouth. you shudder as you melt into the kiss, into her, throwing your arms around her neck. you part your lips, allowing her to lick into your mouth— you want her to eat you alive.

“you were so good out there,” you tell her once you part, voice breathy.

paige grins cockily, already knowing that she played well, and you can see that your red lipstick has transferred onto her mouth, making you laugh. “what? what’s funny?” she questions, confused but chuckling a bit herself.

you shake your head. “nothing, just—” you point at your own lips, which you’re sure have also gotten smudged. “you’ve got something.”

“ah,” she rolls her eyes, genuinely sounding irked, which only makes you laugh harder. “well, you’ve got something—”

she cuts herself off by simply kissing you again, a light peck, taking your hand into hers soon after she separates your bodies.

high on the rush of the win and each other, you two walk hand–in–hand to the women’s locker room— only to be met with aubrey, crouched at her locker as she finishes packing up her things. if not your lipstick literally being smeared all over paige’s lips, then the flush on both of your faces and the way you freeze and suddenly drop each other’s hands, even though both of your teams are aware of your relationship and you have nothing to hide, certainly tells the older girl everything she needs to know.

she simply stuffs a few more of her things into her bag before heading out, lightly punching paige on the shoulder and laughing as she passes by, “see y’all!”

one you hear the door close, you and paige just look at each other before bursting into giggles at the interaction. “she’s never gonna let me live that down.” the blonde groans, wrapping her arms around your waist again.

you just laugh, falling quiet as you find yourself lost in her eyes for the nth time since you first met her. those eyes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. she gets kind of sheepish whenever you look at her for too long, avoiding your gaze and blushing— you’re not sure why, she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. “i love you.” you say, very seriously.

“i love you, too, y/n,” she responds, just as earnest, and leans in to kiss you, only to be stopped.

“wait,” you say, reaching up and finally taking that godforsaken ponytail down, feeling all the tension in your head release as soon as you do. you drop the hair tie and bow to the ground, haphazardly brushing your hair out of your face with your fingers as it falls out of the style.

“god, you’re so fucking pretty,” the blonde marvels aloud, before finally kissing you again.

your lips move together languidly as her hands move down until they’re cupping your ass, kneading the soft flesh in her palms. “paige,” you whine into her mouth, allowing your head to roll back as her lips trail wet, open–mouthed kisses from your jawline all the way down your exposed collarbones.

“yeah, baby?” she replies and then sucks harshly at a particularly sensitive spot, making you whimper.

“want you,”

“here?” she pulls back slightly to scan the locker room— everyone else’s belongings are gone, it’s just her bag and shoes left in front of her storage space. still, someone may have forgotten something and could easily walk in on you while trying to find it. “someone could see—”

you don’t care. you pull paige back in, connecting your lips again, pushing your tongue into her mouth and kissing her with the kind of fervor that makes it impossible for her to deny you. she guides you backwards until your back is pressed to the one navy blue wall that isn’t lined with lockers, her hands feeling you all over.

her fingertips find their way to the hem of your tiny skirt, pulling up until the fabric is bunched up high on your hips, revealing the even smaller red safety shorts you’re required to wear under your uniform. she steps back briefly to give you some space so you can push them and your panties down your legs, kicking them aside, before she slots her thigh between your legs. already knowing exactly what to do from experience, you grind down against her thigh, and it feels so good when you clit drags against her bare skin, you whimper and repeat the motion again and again.

paige uses one hand to hold you steady with a strong grip on your waist, while the other works at pushing up the top piece to your uniform and bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the locker room. she immediately leans down to suck and lick at one of your firm nipples while rolling over the other with her free thumb. the sounds are obscene— your moans, paige’s slurping, and the squelch of your wet pussy rubbing against her thigh all coming together to fill the room.

“fuck, p,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut. “so good.”

paige releases your nipple from her mouth with low groan, briefly licks at the other, before standing upright. she leans in, dangerously close and she whispers into your ear, “i can feel it, y’know. you really want my fingers that bad?”

you blush, flustered by her referring to the way your pussy keeps clenching against her thigh, showing how needy you are, but still nod. “need it, paige, please,” you whimper, hoping she’ll give in quicker if you beg for it.

you’re proven correct, because your girlfriend plants a quick kiss on your cheek, murmuring, “anything for my girl,” before removing her thigh from between your legs, dropping down to her knees and crouching in front of you. ever the tease, she starts by kissing at your thighs, whispering sweet nothings into your skin— beautiful, so pretty, good girl, all mine.

and then two of of her long, slender fingers are prodding at your entrance, easing in nice and slowly. your pussy clenches around the digits, welcoming her inside like an old friend, your walls slick and velvety.

you allow your head to tip back against the wall, eyes closing again, “oh my god.” paige knows your body so well, knows just how to angle her fingers and jab at that sweet spot inside you, the one that makes you cry every time. she adds her mouth to the mix, kitten–licking at your clit before sucking it into her mouth, sending shivers up your spine.

“i’m close,” you cry out, and paige hums against you encouragingly, sending vibrations all throughout your core.

what really has you tipping over the edge is the look in her eyes when you finally will yours open, staring up at you with such adoration as she gets you off. you always said those eyes would be the death of you; your kryptonite. you nearly fold over as your orgasm hits you, legs shaking as the pleasure ebbs throughout your whole body, sobbing out your girlfriend’s name.

“you good?” paige chuckles, amused by your struggling. her lips, covered in your cum and arousal, plus your lipstick from earlier, are glistening in the fluorescent lighting of the locker room— the sight is so hot, you almost feel ready to orgasm again. almost.

“y–yeah, i just—” you swallow thickly, heaving. “need a minute.”

paige’s hands grip your hips, holding you steady until she feels you’re able to stand on your own. only when she’s certain you won’t topple over does she let go of you, sweetly kissing you on your forehead when she stands up. “i’ll be right back, wait here,” she tells you, disappearing momentarily.

“dude! i look fucking insane!” you hear her yell out, making you laugh weakly. you figure she’s found a mirror.

she returns with a wet hand towel, having washed off her mouth, hands, and thigh. she’s gentle as she cleans you up, knowing you’re still sensitive. then, she grabs your panties and shorts from off the carpeted floor, bending over and holding them at your ankles to help you re–dress.

“wait, but i wanted to do you, too,” you whine, a genuine pout setting in on your face as you step back into the panties.

paige shakes her head. “when we get home,” she offers. “i don’t wanna… defile this place any more than we already have.”

you laugh, again, at her choice of words. paige helps you get back into your shorts, as well, and you pull your skirt, bra, and top back down to their regular positions, smoothing over your uniform with the palms of your hands, trying to look at least a little bit presentable for when you walk out of here. paige wanders off toward her locker, changing out of her uniform.

finally feeling stable enough to walk, you find your hair tie and bow on the ground, rolling the former onto your wrist. “wait, c’mere,” you wave paige over, just as she’s pulling a fresh t–shirt over her head.

“hm?” she hums as she approaches, but you just motion for her to lean down a bit. she complies, and you place your bright red bow in her hair, right at the top of her ponytail.

“awww,” you gush at the sight. paige just looks at you, trying her best to appear unimpressed, but you can see the smile playing at her lips. “so pretty! cheer captain!”

she spends all of thirty seconds pretending like she’s not enjoying this, before breaking out into a dance, very poorly imitating your cheer routine from earlier. you encourage her, nonetheless, clapping and cheering, “go paige! go paige!”

she finishes with a ridiculously complex move that you’re pretty sure belongs to some tiktok dance learned recently with kk, grinning, “how was that?”

“10/10, hands down!”

#fic : but i'm a cheerleader.#paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #wlw #pb.

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digiflora · 3 months ago

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SUMMER LOVIN' ◟⊹ 𖧧. ָ࣪ ◝. EPISODE⁰¹

Ꮺ prev. masterlist. next. Ꮺ

these past few hours had been... surreal, so to speak. as soon as the plane had touched down at this tropical island's airport, it had all been a blur- from the man in a hawaiian shirt at the airport who had a sign with your name on it in big bold letters, to the ride up to the villa and your grand entrance, bright bikini and all.

you had been the last girl to arrive, though it hardly seemed to matter since all of the other contestants made you feel more than welcome- hu tao in particular greeting you with a hug and chatter so friendly that it felt like you had known her for years. rosaria had made herself home at the villa's bar, fixing you an inprovised cocktail that you had to admit tasted really good. it made sense when you discovered that she was a bartender, the older woman merely laughing at the dawn of realisation on your face as it came up in conversation.

jean was friendly enough, as was ganyu, though they both seemed significantly more reserved than the other two islanders. you'd warm up to them eventually, you had reasoned to yourself, taking a moment to sip your cocktail and take a proper look around the villa.

it was very nice. that was a given, though, and you'd even consider yourself vaguely familiar with its layout from all the time that you've spent watching the earlier seasons of it. it all felt like a sense of deja vu- like you had already experienced these very events before, though you were certain that you would remember being sent to a villa as lush as this.

and you would certainly remember seeing the beloved host of the show furina in the flesh. she was shorter than you expected, though her sheer magnetism had you seeing her like she was larger-than-life, following her lead as you and the other girls are led to the firepit of the villa, and placed under the standard interview-slash-interrogation that you were so familiar with watching on previous seasons.

you stumbled your way through the questions thrown at you- no, your type was not tall dark and handsome, thank you very much. but yes, you might be careful to not put all of your eggs in one basket.

the little pit of nerves that flared up whenever you did think about the predicament that you were in a little too much- the relatively fresh breakup, the fact that there's an entire camera crew focusing on your every move right now- was dying down, bit by bit. furina was good at making you forget, at least temporarily, about the fact that you're on a fucking reality tv show that your friends and family are all probably watching right now- and that's what you had needed to get all the way up to this point.

the point that had millions of people tuning in to each new season of the show.

the point that could make or break the entire operation. that would set the tone for the rest of the season.

the first coupling.

all five of you were in a line, fidgeting side to side as you waited in suspense for the first man to arrive. furina's grinning widely, completely in her element as she glances down at her cue cards.

"and now, ladies, let's welcome the first man to the villa! say hello to tighnariiii!"

your heart hammers in your chest as the first single man makes his way into the villa, finally rounding the corner and shooting you all a cheery smile and wave. he seems sweet, easygoing, with a lithe body thinly covered with a linen shirt, and some board shorts to complete the look. he has boyish features, with bright clear eyes that briefly flit over you, before continuing his assessment of each of the other four girls stood next to you.

he seemed nice, his voice a gentle tone which matched his appearance, and he spoke briefly about his interests in nature and hiking. you spied hu tao's head nodding along enthusiastically out of the corner of your eye, and you vaguely recalled her telling furina earlier about her type in men being 'anyone interesting that actually has hobbies.'

you can't help but suppress a smile as she steps forward almost immediately when furina asks who is interested. it's rather sweet to see the way tighnari's eyes light up at her admission, and it's practically a no-brainer that he chooses to pair up with her.

and love island: teyvat officially has its first couple of the season!

the rush doesn't dissipate when furina gleefully congratulates the newly formed couple, nor when she hurriedly announces the arrival of the next hot single xiao.

he's short, you can't help but think to yourself as he strolls in, as shallow as it is. there's already a stark contrast in his impression to tighnari's, a colder gaze and more purposeful stride making itself known to the five of you. he has a deeper voice too, its monotone yet still enticing quality making you consider stepping forward if you had your eyes closed.

it's not that he was ugly, far from it, it was just that.... well, he wasn't your type exactly. he had these impressive tattoos spanning all over his arms and chest, and you could have sworn that you saw a glint of a tongue piercing as he talked. when he said that he was a tattoo artist, it felt like the most obvious answer on earth.

you had to admit, in the short amount of time that he had stood before you, he was starting to grow on you- so much so that you were deliberating stepping forward when furina prompted you to do so. rosaria and ganyu did so with little hesitation, and you ultimately decided to err on the side of caution and remain a step back.

"oh wow, we've got two singles fighting for your attention now, xiao!" you could have rolled your eyes at the camera from that line, but you decide to be a good sport and keep grinning like there isn't a single though going on in your head other than how fit these guys are.

"rosaria, what made you step forward?" the woman merely shrugged, shamelessly raking her eyes over xiao's form.

"he's hot. and i like his tattoos." the man grins widely at this admission, his chest puffing up and out as his ego undoubtedly tripled in size.

"and what about you, ganyu? you took your first step forwards this season, would you say that xiao is your type?" ganyu is a lot more bashful than rosaria, playing with her fingers and staring more at the ground than at him when she responds to furina's question.

"well... i'm not exactly sure if he is my type, but i do think that he is rather attractive." the poor girl looked like she wanted the villa to swallow her up into the earth, and you couldn't blame her either. it was humiliating enough telling a guy you were into them, let alone with a whole camera crew, and by extension the whole of teyvat watching along.

but her act of bravery seems to pay off as xiao, after some deliberation, ultimately decides to couple up with ganyu, much to rosaria's chagrin. she remains a good sport, waving her hand dismissively as furina awwwws her.

"plenty more fish in the sea, furina. i'll find myself a man, no trouble." furina laughs daintily at this, sweeping an arm back in dramatic fashion to welcome the next bachelor.

"that much is true rosaria. now, let's see if you like our next single man, kaeya!"

kaeya is certainly a sight to behold, all tanned and gleaming in the sun, washboard abs on display as his hawaiian shirt flutters in the slight breeze. he's got a charming smile on his face as he waltzes in like he owns the place, positively oozing charisma.

"y'alright, darlings?"

furina mimes swooning whilst fanning herself with her cue cards as kaeya flashes her a wink, and despite the ridiculousness of his actions, you have to admit that kaeya does, in fact, have the looks to back them up.

he just seemed like the perfect contestant for this show- all pearly whites and bright smiles and toned muscles and trips to ibiza with the lads in the summer. nice enough, sure, but definitely not the type of guy you would take a step forwards for.

he seems to tick all the boxes for rosaria, though, as the woman has seemingly forgotten all about her prior rejection and is ready to step into the world of love all over again.

there's an undeniable attraction between the two, an intense staredown between the two of them where they determine, without a single word being said, that they match each other just right. it's only the most logical outcome for kaeya to pair up with rosaria instantly, barely casting anyone else a glance. he certainly knew how to make a girl feel special.

"couples so far, how are we feeling?" furina beams at the contestants, and there's a chorus of pleased hums and other affirmative noises that seem satisfactory for furina, before she turns her attention to you and jean.

"and single ladies, i can't help but notice that neither of you have stepped forwards yet! do you not like what you've seen so far?" oh, she's messy, you can't help but think to yourself as your brain scrambles to piece together an answer which won't immediately offend the three guys stood in line with you.

"well- i'm sure that everyone here is lovely, and nothing against them personally, i just haven't really felt the connection that i want with any of them." jean managed to sum up how you felt in what you were sure was a much more eloquent manner than you ever could.

"i agree with jean, furina. when i see a guy i like, i'll know, and i'll make sure to take that step forwards." furina nodded in acknowledgement, turning to her next cue card surreptitiously before keeping the ball rolling.

"well then, single ladies, let's hope that you'll be impressed by our next hot single ayato!"

the man who swaggered in was similar in confidence to kaeya, though the smirk on his face was more indicative of a cocky persona than kaeya's easygoing nature. you really were on a losing streak, with four out of five guys so far not taking your particular fancy.

"hello, ladies." his voice is all suave and dripping in its honeyed tone, though you fight to not shudder as you feel his eyes rake your figure up and down. absolutely not.

"remember ladies, even if you are already coupled up, you can still step forwards if you like! here on love island it's all about finding that real connection with that special someone, so don't be afraid!"

and that real connection alongside furina's words must have really resonated with the crowd so far, as not only jean but ganyu too decided to step forwards. to each their own, you supposed. even kaeya jokingly moved to take a step forwards, though rosaria was quick to yank him back.

ayato looked like his head had inflated to twice its size with that ego boost, and he rubbed his hands together as her surveyed the two girls.

"oh my, another showdown! and remember ayato, the same applies to you! even though ganyu and jean have stepped forwards, you are free to choose whoever you like when coupling up!" so, so messy.

"well, furina, as tempting as that sounds, i think i'm going to go with uh, that one there." he vaguely points in ganyu's direction, and it's almost jawdropping how he can't even bother to remember her name. you decide to make his mental label of "asshole" official, watching him eagerly take xiao's place, leaving the shorter man to stand awkwardly off to the side.

"and y/n and jean, you're both still single! jean, i saw that you were brave and stepped forwards last round, but y/n, you've held out so far! are you hoping you'll meet mr. right with this final reveal?"

"at this point, i'm just hoping for mr. decent." maybe a bit too sharp of a comment, but ayato had left a bitter and lingering taste in your mouth. furina laughs, though, before turning to jean.

"and what about you? are you still holding out hope for the one?"

"i'm afraid so, furina. let's hope that the next one lives up to my standards."

"hey, never be ashamed for having standards and sticking to them! it'll save you a lot of grief in the future."

"that's very true, furina."

"alright then, without further ado, let's welcome our last, but certainly not least eligible bachelor, alhaithammmmm!"

the man rounds the corner, and as soon as you catch a glimpse of him your breath catches in your throat for the first time since stepping foot into the villa. he's tall, the shorts and open linen shirt he wears doing everything in his favour to show off how well built he is, and from the features that you can make out from this distance, devastatingly handsome. and no, not in an outgoing kaeya way or even an edgier xiao way, but in this reserved, more serious and brooding manner that just had you feeling so inexplicably drawn to him.

he comes to a stop next to furina, greeting her politely before turning his attention to the islanders, his eyes scanning each member of the crowd with not too much intensity, though you could have sworn that as your gaze connected with his, he let himself linger for the briefest of moments before continuing his assessment. that little amount of contact (if you could even call it that) with him was enough to have you feeling giddy like you had some goddamn schoolgirl crush.

pull yourself together, woman.

"hello, everyone."

even his voice was attractive, a deep resonating quality to it that you knew in your heart of hearts that you could listen to for hours and never get bored of. you wanted him to keep talking and talking, though he seemed to be a reserved man, instead opting to stand in stoic silence as furina introduced him. you just couldn't tear your eyes away from his face, your heart almost stopping as he meets your gaze again, and this time he holds it.

and then, the fateful question from furina of who will step forward. you can see movement out of the corner of your eyes, your throat feeling dry as you will your body to cooperate and take a trembling step past your tape marker on the floor, clearly putting yourself a step closer to this alhaitham, moving a muscle beyond your spot for the first time this season.

furina whoops at this revelation, clapping her hands together in glee.

"oh, alhaitham, you should consider yourself very flattered, this is the first time y/n's stepped forward for a guy!" oh god. now you know exactly how ganyu felt, being put on the spot like this.

"well... like i said before, if i see a guy i like, i'd step forward." you feel brave enough to smile softly at alhaitham as you say this, though his face remains unreadable with your confession. only the slightest nod in your direction remains as an indication that he even heard you.

it was still enough to have you feeling giddy.

"but it looks like you've got some competition, y/n!" furina nods towards both jean and ganyu, who have both stepped forwards again. you weren't really sure how to respond to that, though furina luckily picked up on this, instead directing her questions to the other women.

the admissions of stepping forward due to finding the man attractive were one and the same from jean and ganyu, and satisfied with these answers too, furina finally turns to alhaitham.

"and alhaitham, how do you feel about these three lovely ladies having stepped forward for you?" the man pauses for a moment before answering.

"i don't think there's a single suitable answer other than feeling extremely flattered."

the fixed eye contact with you the entire time he was talking definitely wasn't you being delusional. and those bated moments of breath felt like a buildup to the inevitable when your name falls from alhaitham's lips as a response to furina asking him who he will pick.

time couldn't go any slower as he makes his way over to you.

he's even more attractive up close, all bright piercing eyes and soft looking hair. he offers you a small smile, a quick hug that you enjoy a little too much, with his warm solid body against you and his height forcing you up onto your tiptoes to be able to wrap an arm around his neck. the pleasant discovery that he smells good also gets tucked away in your mental file of him. 25, sumerian, and a court stenographer. you could definitely work with that.

"and xiao, as your initial pairing got stolen, you'll be paired up with the lovely jean!"

as xiao takes his place, the newest five couples of the season are complete. the cameramen quickly switch angles, going for a wide cinematic sweep, with furina frantically motioning behind the camera for everyone to smile and act coupley.

you're glad that alhaitham takes the initiative, shifting a touch closer to you and letting his hand rest against your waist ever so gently, the heat from his palm making you shiver.

"it's nice to meet you, y/n," he murmurs into your ear, an invisible moment once the camera glides past you two, and it's a conscious effort to not sink back into him and melt against his chest.

"it's nice to meet you too, alhaitham."

oh, you could definitely work with him.

gia's notes ㌐ ₀₁ welcome to the island 😈😈 i hope that the hybrid smau format isn't too confusing or repulsive, i thought it would be quite fun :D though i'm not really sure what extent i want to use it to yet. i'll figure it out as i go lolll. also to the people who asked to be tagged in this series all those months ago, i only have a record of people who asked by commenting so if i missed you pls just ask me again and i'll add you... if you see this lol :3 taglist ㌐ ₀₁ @arraxthatsonjah @nebsisdead

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justbelievinginmagic · 4 months ago

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im(mortal) - part 3: blurred.

pairing(s): vampire!enhypen ot7 x fem!reader. series summary: Seven souls struggle with the bitter dregs of eternal life. As they hide amongst human society, they try to discover a cure for their curse, decade after decade, century into century. In their investigations, they find more than they could imagine brewing including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality? glimpse: Jake gives into temptation and pulls his blood-brothers into his fascinations with the human woman that makes his vampiric heart beat faster than ever. warnings/tags: Inspired by Enhypen's MVs lore, Vampire AU, sort of Soulmate AU, College AU, heavy science fiction inspiration, ot7 x reader but not poly ot7 (but some are really close tbh), 3rd person POV, use of YN, Ni-ki written as Riki, mature topics, vampire typical themes, vampire lore, mentions of blood, biting, death, other vampire things, canon typical violence, descriptions of blood & sounds of blood, bloodlusting, stealing blood bags, mentions of illnesses, mentions of medicine, obsessive tendencies from Jake, lowkey stalking lets be real, flirting, suggestive themes, let me know if there needs to be more tags! word count: 8.7k previous chapter <- -> next chapter series masterlist

“According to an anonymous tip, there have been 10 confirmed cases of a novel illness with unknown etiology at Desolis General Hospital. Doctors are working quick to identify its source and possible treatment. This is a developing situation, so, as always, wash your hands and when coug-” The newscaster read off the teleprompter with little gravity to his tone. It held the same old ‘newscaster tone’ inflecting at odd moments to keep the viewers’ attention.

In the hospital’s waiting room, a normal human could barely hear it over the busy hustle and bustle. The beeping of medical equipment, the shuffling of papers, and the gossiping of the front desk admins all overlapped to make the audio nearly inaudible. The few patients waiting in uncomfortable plastic chairs had to rely on the severely delayed black-boxed subtitles popping up below the newscast. But, Jungwon could hear it. Jungwon could hear a pen drop two doors down; he could hear the phlegmy cough from the old man in the waiting room; he could hear the doctors discussing private patient information behind their closed office doors. And of course, he could hear the siren call of a hospital full of hearts. Beating, thudding, pumping, and pulsing. Nonstop. Overwhelming. Constant.

He could hear everything as he continued his night-shift on the second floor of the Desolis General Hospital. Jungwon rounded a corner, raising the surgical mask up over his nose as he rolled the freshly sanitized and plastic-sealed equipment down the hall.

“What do you think?” a concerned voice chimed, half-muffled by the oak door Jungwon strolled past.

“I think they’re blowing it out of proportion frankly – especially with that news article,” an elderly-sounding man argued.

“What could it be then?”

“Anemia,” the man coughed after his reply. “Strange severe cases of anemia. Chest pains, shortness of breath, extreme fatigue, and even pica. Odd, yes. Novel, no.”

His tone held an air of finality. Like there was no other explanation except that.

“Ten concurring cases of low-iron deficiency, doctor?” the woman laughed in disbelief. There was a shuffle, the squeaking of leathered seat and another cough into a hanky.

“Give them -,” the man’s voice was strained, scratchy, “- a blood transfusion; prescribe iron-pills and a diet change. Bingo. All fixed.” He chortled lowly.

“Any links between the patients? Living situations, shared restaurants, or places of works? This is all just a coincidence?” she queried, unconvinced.

“None that we could find. I really think it’s just luck. Bad luck.”

Jungwon huffed, heat billowing out of his mask and into his eyes. More blood transfusions meant more of Sunghoon and Jay getting ‘dinner.” Sunghoon will hate this. While he was good at tracking and breaking and entering, he wasn’t the best with carefulness. There was an air of confidence and optimism that Jungwon just didn’t have in his slow-beating heart anymore. Mistakes were always around the corner. There had been times where Jay had to fix Sunghoon’s mess-ups. Some Jungwon told him; others he kept secret.

It’d be easier if Jungwon could just pocket a few IVs of blood. But it was too dangerous now. Ugh. So inconvenient.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Once, twice, three times. His brows crinkled. They know he’s working tonight. They know when his break was. (His schedule was posted on the fridge via a yellow sticky note – like always.)

So why were they texting him? And who?

It could be Sunoo. He’d been moody after dinner earlier, but Jungwon welcomed it. A sassy Sunoo was better than a despondent Sunoo after all. He’d do anything to have him be how he was before. He sighed out.

Or perhaps it was Sunghoon. He’d been practicing ice-skating lately and would send the group chat updates of his routines. He was happier now Jungwon noted. He smiled at the thought.

Pushing the cart into a darkened closet, he whipped out his phone. His face was illuminated by the blue glow.

It was neither.

It was Jay.

FYI Jake’s not home.

Well, shit.

“Stop digging through my head,” Sunghoon commented, the tone like a little sibling annoying his older sibling.

He passed by Heeseung without even a glance, walking from one room to the next. It nearly looked like he was floating. Too smooth and far too ethereal to look human. But then, the illusion was broken as Sunghoon’s hand rose to rub at his eye, blinking against the bright lights blearily. His glasses (yes, he was the only immortal with prescription glasses) were shifted up the bridge of his nose. He looked this way and that for his charger.

He had an essay to write, and his laptop died. You’d think with all the money Jungwon had they’d have chargers everywhere, but nope. Like any family, they’d borrow chargers and forget to give them back or move them while cleaning or have them fall behind cushions or couches.

Heeseung followed quickly behind the other man. His gaze firm as he stared down the back of Sunghoon’s head.

“You know something,” Heeseung bit out, less with venom and more with frustration.

Sunghoon had this strange ability that was nothing otherworldly, but ever-annoying for the vampire who could know anything and everything with a little mind-reading. Sunghoon was able to just babble in his brain. This and that, science ramble from his classes, his routines for ice skating, sometimes just ‘Heeseung, stop snooping’ on repeat. Anything and everything except the information Heeseung wanted to know.

“Yeah, I know something. Me, not you,” Sunghoon almost sing-songed, blank faced as he continued his search.

Sunghoon hated when Heeseung tried to look inside his brain. He’d gotten so good at avoiding his blood-brother’s skill out of pure hard-work and spite. He liked his privacy. It was hard enough to get any with six forever-roommates.

“Jake’s been acting weird since class, and he’s now nowhere around the house, and you talked to him last. I saw that,” Heeseung ranted.

That was the flicker of a memory Heeseung latched onto. Jake and Sunghoon talking only a short time ago (there was a hint of ‘I need to do my homework’ in the background of Sunghoon’s mind). Jake looked frazzled as he spoke quickly, eyes darting this way and that before he turned and walked out the door.

Meanwhile, in the present, Sunghoon focused on looking for his charger. Visualizing his charger, its white boxy form. The prongs. The twisted cord. The clear initials written in black ink.

“Stop thinking about the charger,” Heeseung complained, head tilting back in exasperation. “How are you so good at hiding your real thoughts?”

“Just to bug you, hyung,” Sunghoon said as he checked behind a pillow on the sofa. Nope, not there.

Jay, who sat on the opposite side of the sofa, raised a brow at the pair. Heeseung huffed.

“C’mon, where did he go? It’s for his safety!” Heeseung argued.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. Jake didn’t look unsafe when he had come to him with the bribe of silence in exchange of his portion of blood. He looked restless. Mussed dark hair, his eyes glowing in the bright lights of the mansion. He even could smell fire in his hair. He’s just worked up. Sunghoon knew where he’d go when it came to frustration – the ice rink. Surely, Jake had his own place he went. It was his business. And it’d stay his business.

“He’ll be fine. He can’t hurt a fly,” Sunghoon argued, waving a hand in nonchalance before checking behind another pillow.

Jay stood, and glanced behind the pillow he had been squishing. Nope, nothing. Sunghoon ran a tongue over his fangs, restlessly. God, where did he put his charger? Did someone move it?

“Jay, tell him that it’s for the safety of the flock for him to tell me where Jake went,” Heeseung looked towards the other for support.

Jay glanced over the vampire men; their emotions easy to read like the aroma of scented candles. Frustration, deep and nutty, filled his senses; concern that tasted like too-strong brewed tea burned in the back of his throat; doubt that was icy cool like chewing gum hit like a wave.

Sunghoon gave Jay a look; one that was half pleading, half annoyed.

“He’s not gonna do anything,” Sunghoon sighed out, trying to defend Jake.

“Jay,” Heeseung huffed again. His chin tilted as he looked over at his blood-brother despairingly.

There wasn’t any deception. Jay knew the taste of that; salty as sorrow but with the bitter bite of sulfur. Guilt. Deception. Whatever you’d call it. It was vacant.

“He’s telling the truth, Seungie,” Jay conceded, returning to his seat, and swinging his laptop over his knees. “He really doesn’t think there is any danger.”

“He’s a kid,” Heeseung cried out.

“Really can’t keep playing that card,” Sunghoon sighed out, plopping down besides Jay. “We’re over a hundred years old now, you know?”

“Niki,” Heeseung called out instead, turning towards the stairwell.

“I didn’t take his charger!” It was immediately yelled back. Almost too quick.

Jay could smell the salty, volcanic ash of a lie. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head.

“You did steal it!” Sunghoon complained. “Give it back now. What the heck, Riki?”

“No, come here,” Heeseung demanded instead. “I need you to go get Jake.”

“Is that necessary?” Jay asked tentatively.

Jay’s face was one of concern now, a grimace falling over his face as he was once again pulled from his computer science assignment. He pushed his laptop onto the coffee table.

“Sunghoon would’ve stopped him; this is a little… much,” Jay commented.

Heeseung raised a brow, questioningly. It was for their safety…right? Jungwon would agree if he was here. He would! Besides… Riki loved a good game of hide and go seek.

There was a soft lulling in Heeseung’s veins, something that said everything was fine. Everything was fine. Deep breath, lavender haze.

“Jay!” he exclaimed out; anger fizzing over Jay’s tongue at Heeseung’s rapid shift in emotions. “Don’t use your powers against me.”

“Don’t use them against them,” Jay warned, brows raised. He looked at Sunghoon as if he was example A.

There was a sag in Heeseung’s shoulders before he turned to face the youngest of them, leaning over the stairs’ banister. A sharp smile bit at Riki’s face.

“Jake is hiding?” he wiggled his brows.

Sighing at the youngest’s excitement sweet on his tongue, Jay turned back to his coding. With Riki intrigued, they’d never be able to stop him now. He loved his freedom too much.

“You think you’ll be able to find him?” Heeseung asked, but when he spoke to Riki, there was a change in tone.

A challenge. Playful. Less like an older brother and more like a friend.

“Give me a few hours and he’ll be back here,” Riki promised.

“Hours don’t mean anything to a boy who can stop time,” Sunghoon commented. He made a grabby hand towards Riki who tossed the lost-stolen-borrowed charger his way.

“You want to take up the challenge instead, tracker?” Heeseung retorted.

Sunghoon’s hands raised in defense. He hated being defined by his ‘skills’, and Heeseung knew it. “Have fun, Riki.”

The youngest laughed out, a mouth full of fangs as he grinned. He never got to do anything fun nowadays. This will be a good hunt.

“Go find him and bring him back before Jungwon gets home.”

Riki offered the three vampires a salute before, in a flash, he was gone.

As night fell, a storm crawled into the city. Rolling clouds of thunder and lightning crashed over the tall skyscrapers and stacked-upon-stacked buildings. The smell of petrichor engulfed the streets as rain poured and trickled down the pavement in rivulets. Even amongst the heavy downpour, Jake could still smell her, hear her, feel her. His hand rose to press against his chest, tugging at his hoodie to feel his heart race. It was like something he had never felt before. Amazed and bewildered, he stared at her from his spot in the woods.

Her heart pulsed in a quick beat, but the melody was becoming familiar to him. Why could he hear her so well? He had no idea. But what he did know was that there was a rush of calm seeing her safe and dry beneath the bus stop’s awning. Her heart was racing, but it wasn’t from fear. All she was doing now was scrolling through her phone, shifting to glance up and down the street every so often. Aware. But even then, she didn’t see him, hidden in the brush.

Dark overgrown bushes and thick pine-tree trunks kept him covered and hidden from her watchful gaze. The rain pitter-pattered, making the dirt beneath his feet muddy. His hoodie had been pulled up over his head (despite the umbrella in his hand that he had taken from the foyer of the mansion.) but he still felt droplets of water hit his face.

He didn’t want her to see him. He didn’t want to scare her. He just wanted to admire. To observe? He didn’t know. He just had to see her.

Jake’s head lulled to rest against a nearby tree as he felt the breath of life tumble through him. Sweat had dried on his neck earlier, and now it tingled in the cool humid air. When was the last time he got chills from the air? His mouth watered at the tempting smell of her, but the hunger always clawed in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t new. Yes, their Heartbeat was a new addition but… he could admire not obsess. He’d ignore his hunger, the Beast, the bite of his fangs. He didn’t want to bite her. He did, but… he didn’t. It didn’t make sense in his head. He felt dizzy. The streetlights flickered.

Her siren-heart calmed him into a whirl, losing his thoughts. Her heart was pretty, he decided. Was it delirium? Was he being driven mad by the thu-thump-thu-thumping that hadn’t left his eardrums since she was introduced to him that evening? Obsession? Fascination? Insanity? Jake didn’t know.

“I knew it was a crush,” a voice whispered into Jake’s ear.

Jolting out of his state, the brush around them rustled. Riki let out a laugh as he stumbled back. His fangs gleamed in the glow of the streetlights. His hair and clothes were just a smidge wet; the faint staining of raindrops on is broad shoulders as he giggled jovially at his blood-brother. He looked at him with a knowing, prideful look.

After all, Riki had won the game. He found Jake.

“Wait – what?” Jake processed Riki’s words. “No, no, it's not a crush.”

It was something different. He didn’t have a word for it. Something animalistic. Uncontrollable. A pull in his gut. His heart?

Besides, the vampire flock didn’t do crushes. How was a mortal supposed to mingle with immortals? It was a fool’s errand. Jungwon had always warned against it.

“You’re literally stalking her, bro,” Riki commented, his laughter dying down as he took a few steps forward.

“I’m not! I’m just—” Jake reached out to stop the younger from going any further, not wanting her to spot them. “- curious.”

“Uh-huh.” Riki replied, unconvinced as he sidestepped Jake’s grasp. “Relax! She can’t see us.”

It’s only then Jake processed that the world had quieted, zapping away all sound (except for her heart beat, because, of course, it defied even their strange powers). Thu-thump-thu-thump-thu-thump, it kept him company as he glanced around.

Droplets of water sparkled, frozen still in the air like a million diamonds. The approaching bus down the street was stagnant as it froze through a puddle, a snapshot of a splash erupting from its wheels. He hadn’t been sucked into one of Riki’s time freezes in a long time. They hadn’t needed them, and Riki was often exhausted by them, no matter how good he got at his trick.

“Why are you even here?” Jake asked, confused and a flash of worry curdled through him. “Are you good? Around her?”

That annoyed Riki, his lips curling up into a sneer. He felt like he will never escape the title of baby, of wild, of ‘bloodthirsty.’ Even now, Jake was looking after him – when Riki was the one on the search for him! Jake was the one that was supposedly not good right now. Yet still… they asked if he was okay. It annoyed him.

Pushing past the bushes and bramble, Riki flashed Jake a smile, too mischievous to feel comfortable. Jake was quick to follow, getting thwapped by stray ferns Riki had just pushed aside.

“Wait—Riki,” Jake called out.

Prowling closer to her, Riki glanced over her features. Frozen perfectly in place, YN had been scrolling through her phone, glassy eyes unseeing in the time freeze. The younger vampire squatted to meet her eyeline. Hooded eyes examined her. The glow of the phone lit up her face in a blue glow. Pretty eyes, he thought.

“Cute,” Riki commented to Jake. A hand reached out to fiddle with her hair, watching it bounce back into its place as soon as he stopped touching it. He pushed it aside to glance at the column of her throat. “Pretty neck.”

Riki sent a look at Jake, his tongue flicking to touch one fang. Teasingly.

“Stop it,” Jake commanded, his brows furrowing as he walked closer.

Her heart hadn’t accelerated; the thu-thump melody steady as beating drum. But his anxiety rose. He didn’t like Riki so close. The way his fangs peeked out as he smiled up at her.

Riki hadn’t taken to vampirism with kindness. He’d tried to drain one of their own after all – he had drained countless humans throughout the years. Whether it was for control or lack of thereof, his violence peaked while with Heeseung. Alone in their little shabby apartment, he had become something akin to a nightmare. Humans dropped like flies in the city they terrorized; mystery animal attacks some said. Rumors of myths and legends bloomed. Jake didn’t think Riki ever really evolved past that. (Not like himself, of course. He had been good. He had never drained another human like the night of his turning. He refused. He had control. Riki didn’t.)

That control edged and tickled at the back of his brain as he saw Riki’s fingers stroke over her neck, tauntingly. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he glanced over his shoulder at the other. A curl of a smirk on his fangs. Jake let out a low chitter, the sound animalistic in his throat. A warning to the other to stop.

Riki’s gaze fell into crescent moons. His cheeks softening as he let out a laugh, his hand fell away and he stepped back. Rising to his full height, he let out a laugh.

“I’m kidding,” he stressed.

Jake didn’t find it funny. His eyes flickered back to her. Her heart thudded in his chest. He sighed.

“She is pretty, though. What’s up with you two if it’s not a crush?” Riki’s chin rose towards Jake in acknowledgement.

It wasn’t a crush, Jake insisted.

“We’re nothing,” Jake insisted. “She’s just weird. I—”

The vampire faltered looking over her once more. It was strange to see no breath tumble from her mouth and yet the growing-familiar heart beat remained. He swallowed.

“I can hear her heart. Loudly. I heard it from class; I heard it walking home; I heard it at home. No matter how far I go, it’s there. She’s there. Even now, it’s beating fast.”

Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump.

She stared onwards at the potential danger in front of her. Jake huffed through his nose, glancing away from her innocent face.

Riki tilted his head at his blood-brother, almost puppy like. That was weird. His bloody-red eyes flashed to the human once more. She looked normal. He had seen plenty of pretty girls. Plenty of human girls that he bit into without a care in the world. They bled all the same. Their hearts teased and tempted. A constant fight in his soul. One that he oftentimes lost.

But now that he was staring at her – Riki felt something. Or really, he felt nothing. The rage that often shadowed him was absent, leaving him feeling breathless. His stomach wasn’t cramping; there wasn’t the constant itching in his veins to bite, bite, bite, drink, drink, drink. It was just… gone. Paused in the presence of this weird mortal.

His smolder, the heavied lidded look and taunting raise of his brows that often was tacked onto Riki’s face, dropped. A youthful look of surprise, of relief, and of confusion flickered over his face in a kaleidoscope. Parted pout, raised brows, and large eyes, he looked an image of the same little boy who had entered the orphanage and couldn’t say his own name without stuttering.

It felt so freeing to not be bounded by the Beast he realized. But also, dreadfully grounding because… he had committed so many beastly things. Drained so many humans without a second thought, all in the name of that hunger. A hunger gorged by the simple presence of this human girl.

Weird. Bad. Bad. Bad.

He didn’t know what was bad – the situation, the woman… or himself.

Riki took an uncertain step back. Throat tight, a horrible maelstrom of upset tumbled up his throat. Was he going to be sick? Everything felt overwhelming.

“Riki?” Jake asked, sensing the sudden combustion of something within the younger.

Was he going to pounce on the girl, his Heart? No. No. He wouldn’t let that happen. (If anyone was going to taste her blood, it’d be him – a Beast within Jake’s mind growled out).

His hand went to Riki’s shoulder, only for the younger to pull away with vigor. Stumbling back, his electrified eyes met Jake’s. Fright riddled his features as he felt himself fall away into a flurry of bats. His fingers holding their world in a pause unraveled with his composure. And the world rushed into a bloom of life.

The downpour resumed in a flood; the bus down the street honked to life as it slammed through a puddle. A wave of dirtied water splashed onto the pavement. Cars, electricity, the chitter of the light beside the bus-stop all joined the ever-present melody of their fast-beating heart.

Jake stumbled back from her, back hitting the bus stop’s support with a metal thunk.

YN’s head snapped to the side as she let out a small yelp. Wide eyes met his. Her body curled into herself as she jumped, startled.

“Woah, when did you get here?” she exclaimed.

He was like a ghost! She hadn’t heard anyone approaching; it was scary to know she could be snuck up on so suddenly. Her heart had jittered even faster. Jake fell into its warmth – his cheeks hot, his neck hot around her.

“Just now,” he lied, flashing a charming smile as his hand rose to rub that back of his neck.

He hadn’t planned on this – he wasn’t going to approach her. He just had wanted to see her, examine her. What was special about her? Something had to be if even Riki ran away from her.

Jake stepped out of the rain and under the cover of the bus stop, damp from the rain now.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he bumbled out, his tone gentle and kind. The lamp-glow made his skin golden and warm. The raindrops clinging to his skin looked like sparkling gems.

Taking in his soft features, she nodded slowly. “Its fine,” she acquiesced. “I’ve got to pay more attention,” she instead lamented, trying to ease him.

His – or was it hers – heart bloomed, fluttering at a butterfly’s wings pace.

Swallowing down his burning throat, he smiled.

“Jake, right?” she clarified.

As if she’d forget him. The pretty boy who had helped give her notes but also ran out like she was some plague.

“Yeah, yeah.”

As if he’d forget her. The bite of her name in between his jaw was so tasty.

Their hearts beat in tandem, and he couldn’t help but breath out in wonder. With a wet splash, the bus pulled up to the bus stop.

“Oh, this is my bus; is it yours?” she asked, nudging her thumb towards it.

Jake could get lost in her heartbeat- the tantalizing newness of it, the melody that was siren-like and yet soothing in his veins.

“Uh, huh,” he replied, blood-struck staring at her. He blink, blink, blinked. “Yeah.”

No, it wasn’t. But he couldn’t help but accept, couldn’t help but want to be around her. Like the seas being controlled by the moon, she was a magnetic force. It was something so new, so strange. So addictive.

YN fiddled with the strap of her bag as she stood. He didn’t move to go ahead of her and, so, she walked ahead, climbing the steps of the bus with familiarity. A cool rush of air-conditioned air kissed her skin and made him shiver. He actually shivered! When was the last time he felt cold? She swiped her bus pass; he paid the few dollars with a flash of his (read: Jungwon’s) credit card.

The bus was full - a blurred symphony of heart beats. All supporting the main melody of his Heart; her Heart. He didn’t even care for them; she was the focus. There were only two spots left, tucked into the back of the bus. YN took her spot, closest to the rain dropped window. The warmth of the engine radiated through the seat and made her feel safe and cozy.

Jake paused in the middle of the walkway as he looked side to side. There weren’t any other spots. Was it okay if he joined her? Was it creepy or stalking like Riki had said? Before he could contemplate his morals or if he was too much of this or that, she patted the seat beside her.

YN’s gaze locked with his, with blushed cheeks that he wanted to bite, kiss, soothe, feel. Jake swallowed but his feet moved on demand, tugged by the invisible string on his slow-beating heart. He settled in beside her. Hot. Cold. There was the clash, crawling over his skin and into his cells. He took a small breath in, hoping it didn’t sound too shuddering as it felt. His lungs burned, but he wanted more His hands rubbed over his jeaned knees before one hand combed through his lightly-damp locks.

The bus shivered and jolted as it began its route once more. Well, now he was stuck on a bus. All he had wanted to do was see her. He glanced her way, looking at her from the corner of his eye. Everyone else on the bus were on their phones. Should he be? Her hand still held her phone, limp in her lap as she looked out the foggy window.

He felt out-of-place. Like a fish out of water. Like a bat in daylight.

“What’s your major?” She asked after a while, glancing his way.

Her smile was sweet and dull.

“Lit,” he replied with a grin of his own. His smile was sharp and sincere. “You?”

“Still figuring it out,” she admitted, stretching her limbs and glancing away in thought. “Thinking about nursing, maybe.”

There was a soft huff in her tone as she looked his way once more. “Mom was a nurse. Dad was a doctor. His dad was a doctor. And his dad was a doctor. And her mom was nurse. Blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes lightly. “It’s been pushed on me since I could walk.” She laughed.

It mingled with her heartbeat so beautifully, he thought. He chuckled out, echoing her soft laughter.

“What do you want to do with lit? Write? Or teach?”

He didn’t know. Jake couldn’t focus. Or was it the heat in his cheeks that made his head feel lopsided? His stomach clenched, but it wasn’t from hunger. His heart raced and raced. Everything felt more, more than it already did. He used to be able to see the world in microscopic sense, but now it all seemed hazy, haloing her. He could just see her, high definition.

She was looking at him, not too worrisome thankfully. He felt like he looked crazy but, in her eyes, he was just bumbling, shy, sweet. His hands rubbed his knees gently, nervous. Long fingers fiddling over the fabric clumsily. It was cute.

“Not sure yet,” he admitted, soft voiced. “I just liked reading.”

He swallowed. She swallowed. He could see the pulse of her heart in her throat. The Beast itched under his skin. Just a taste, just a little bit. No.

He glanced away.

“I-Are you from around here?” he asked.

“No, no,” she shook her head. “I’m from Riverfield. In the country. I have an apartment in the city while I’m in school. What about you?”

Jake nodded, focusing on her words. “I share a home with some friends.” The fib has rolled off his tongue before; it was second-nature. “Over on the west end of the city.”

“That’s, uh, in the completely opposite direction,” she noted. This bus was going towards the east, deeper into the city’s depths.

Her uncertainty tinkled out; her finger fiddled with the side of her phone.

“I’m visiting a friend,” he made up.

“Oh.”

Before another silence could crash over them, Jake added. “My friend is a nursing major. He’s in the same class as us.”

“Oh, cool,” she replied with a smile. “Maybe I’ll see if he likes the program next class.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

The lull that followed felt like forever. Jake felt like a live-wire. His body buzzed. His heart raced. Her closeness only made him feel hotter and hotter. The bus lights flickered. His eyes flashed to them; the fluorescents burning brighter at his gaze. His breath shuddered. Was that because of him? He needed to control himself. Why did he feel so different? Alive? It was scary. Jake’s teeth nibbled into his cheek; the lights shuddered.

The bus braked harshly, suddenly. His arm immediately reached out across her, protecting her as they jerked forward. Her body slammed into his long arm, and he kept her steady. He swore his heart skyrocketed. Dilated eyes met hers. Her own eyes looked startled as she let go of his arm. When had she grasped onto him? Did she feel this pull too? He let out a soft breath.

“Thanks,” YN replied as she leaned back into her chair; the bus had moved normally, driving through the streets once more.

“No problem,” he breathed. He finally lowered his arm.

His ears felt burning. Jake scratched at the back of his neck. He probably seemed so strange… He had to not be so weird. How? How?

“Did you decipher my notes?” he wondered.

Blush. She blushed. Blush, blush, blush. Her cheeks hot and red and bite-able like a red apple. He felt his throat burn but he only fell more into his racing heart as she smiled. Her smile was so pretty.

“Not all of them,” she admitted with a chuckle.

“Let me help.” He offered. “We’re both here.”

She adjusted her phone, raising it, and swiping through it with ease. “I guess.”

He scooted closer, his cologne flooding her senses. There was a hint of rainwater in his hair that dripped onto her; it felt like it sizzled on her bare skin. Jake pointed at words here and there, helping breakdown his writing.

“You’d think with having doctors as parents I’d be able to decipher any sort of handwriting,” she joked.

“Nah; mine looks ancient,” he replied cooly. “I don’t blame you. It’s my fault. Here – that says ‘would be promising’.” He sounded a bit uncertain, but his gaze flickered back to her with a wide-eyed innocence. He was sweet. Helpful. Even if he felt like he was burning up inside, she felt the same thing. Her arms tingled. Her heart thudded fast.

The rest of the bus drive was spent huddled closer. Their arms brushed against one another; their breaths shared as they slide through picture after picture, analyzing their notes together. The bus rolled to a stop, and she glanced up.

“This is my stop,” she announced, gathering her bag from the ground.

Standing, she goes to slide her phone into her pocket before pausing. “Can we exchange numbers?” she asked, looking down at him.

His heart was pounding. Or was it her heart? He couldn’t tell. But he couldn’t help but feel the buzz; the hum of excitement. That’s what this was. He wanted to keep talking. Learning more about this strange woman. Why did her heart sing for him? Why did it feel like it was their heart? He wanted to know why she was so special?

“Just in case I need more deciphering expertise,” she teased, her hand outstretched her phone his way and he took it carefully.

Rain poured harder as he typed his name and number into her contacts. There was a grumble from the bus driver, impatient, but, at this point in the night, there were few passengers on board. The bus was coming to its last few stops. The rain thudded against the metal roof of the bus in a downpour, fogging the view of the apartment complex.

Jake nudged her with his umbrella, getting her attention once more. He looked up at her with such a kind smile, his cheeks sweet and soft despite the sharpness of his lips and teeth. Her phone was outstretched her way, as well as the handle to an umbrella.

“Here. And take my umbrella,” he encouraged.

“Seriously?” she exclaimed, taking her phone back. His name ‘Jake’ stared back simply… she was going to add an emoji later (maybe a beating heart since her heart seemed to act up around him.) Her heart was pounding even now. All he was doing was being sweet, and yet she felt like she was going to pass out.

“Its pouring, YN,” he glanced out the nearby window. “Please.”

He nudged the umbrella her way again. Their fingers brushed, and electricity flared between them. Skin-to-skin contact, it made his cells burn bright and vibrant. So bright that the bus’s lights went out in a pop. Startling the passengers, even Jake jumped in his spot.

“Goddammit,” the bus driver cursed out.

The pair had jumped apart. YN was a few steps back; Jake was pressed deep into his seat, hand pressed to his chest. It tingled still.

“This bus is like a danger-zone,” YN joked, glancing upward at the sizzling lights. “Thank you. For the umbrella… I’ll give it back in class?”

He let out a laugh, airy and disbelieving.

“Yeah. No worries really. Yeah.” He sounded flustered.

“Yeah,” she smiled as she continued walking backwards. “Be safe.”

She waved lightly as she exited the bus. A soft goodnight on her tongue to the befuddled bus driver before she walked through the downpour. His umbrella shielding her from the rain as she rushed towards the complex.

He watched all along. The lights of the bus flickered on again, slowly at the rhythm of their heart beat.

She was something special.

Once her apartment door closed behind her, YN screeched.

Her hands going to hide her face. He is so cute! Her heart was about to explode. Jake had been drooled over by all the girls at school. He looked like a model, acting aloof, was probably rich. But here… oh he was just a kind guy. He was sweet and helpful. He lent her his umbrella. She squealed again.

Sighing out dream-struck, she walked through her apartment, shedding her jacket and tossing it on the nearby couch. Dinner first – maybe a shower to warm her up. But, she was so warm now, her body buzzing with butterflies. She couldn’t help but dance about as she prepared a simple dinner of left overs, making sure to pour out her pills out onto a napkin, so she wouldn’t forget to take them… again.

Jake had escaped the bus finally at the next stop, wriggling past the last few passengers before walking through an unfamiliar cityscape before finding the forest’s edge. It was then he disappeared into the skies in a flurry of bats.

He whooshed into human form at the front door of their home. Riki leaned up against the doorway. He looked disheveled.

“Where did you go?” Jake exclaimed. “You totally ditched me.”

Riki’s face turned red as he glanced aside. “You were the one that wanted to see her so badly. So, you got to.” His retort was childish, defensive as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I scared her,” Jake retorted.

“You were stalking her,” Riki said blankly.

“We were,” Jake argued. That wasn’t any better. He shook his head lightly, damp hair flicking water onto the younger. Riki flinched and made a fuss. “You were the one to get so close.” Jake said simply.

Riki tried to shrug nonchalantly as he turned on his heel to unlock the front door and walk inside.

“You got to talk to her, didn’t you? Do you have her number now?” Riki teased.

Their brotherly back and forth was cut short at the sight of the flock all gathered in the nearby living room. Including Jungwon.

“Where have you two been?” Jungwon bit out. His brow furrowed; a mimicry of a father scorned.

“Hey dad,” Riki teased, raising his brows at him before plopping down on the couch besides Sunoo. The pair shared a look. Riki curled his legs into his chest, arms going to lock around them.

“I’ve been texting you, calling you; I was close to emailing you,” Jungwon continued, emphasizing each option. His own fangs were flashing in the bright lights of the mansion as he crossed his arms. “Where were you?”

“No where,” Jake said, his voice trailing off as he walked further into the room. All eyes rested on him, looking him up and down.

“Jake,” Heeseung was the one to speak up, raising a brow from his spot beside Sunghoon. His tone was warning.

“She’s fine. I’m fine. Niki is fine,” Jake gestured to their youngest who flashed a peace sign. Jay looked over Riki carefully, tilting his head at what he felt.

“Everything’s fine,” Jake finished.

Jungwon sent a disapproving look at the other. This was a definite scolding and Jake’s high from being around her dulled. He sat down on the opposite side of Sunoo who squeezed his knee reassuringly.

None of them liked being scolded – it reminded them of the nurses and doctors and orphanages.

“You know what happened last time one of us had a control problem,” Jungwon lamented.

It sent a heaviness over the flock. They all looked aside. Sunoo frowned and hid into his arms. He wished he had his teddy bear in this moment.

Jungwon didn’t understand Jake. Jake out of everyone should know this. He had sworn to never hurt someone again after his change. Why was he playing with fire? Running around, chasing, stalking a human!

Jake played with a frayed edge on his jeans.

“Yeah, look at Sunoo. He’s had more problems than any of us with humans, but you’d be happy if he was out and about.” Jake muttered out dejectedly.

His words weren’t sharp but they still stung. Both Sunoo and Jungwon. Sunoo’s grimace grew.

“No, I wouldn’t.” Jungwon argued.

Sunoo’s face screwed into a displeased scowl, curling more into Riki as they spoke of his shortcomings. He had been in a good mood, and it was quickly fizzling out. He wanted to go up to his room. He was tempted to just fly there.

“I’d be careful. We know these things are delicate.” Jungwon argued.

“Jay too.” Jake pointed out, frowning and gesturing at the vampire. “He hates humans, but you encourage him to try to take classes to get used to them! What’s so different about me going to see her?” Jake argued with upturn brows.

Why was he being targeted? He’d been good. So, what if he messed up and set some lights up in a blaze earlier? He was fine with her. He sat next to her for over thirty minutes, and he didn’t bite her. He had control. He had control. Nothing went wrong!

“You purposely went after her,” Jungwon stressed. “Without telling us.”

“He told me,” Sunghoon mumbled, raising his knee to his chest casually. Heeseung slapped his arm. The glasses-wearing vampire shrugged

“What is so interesting about her, Jake?” Jungwon sighed out, sitting down on the couch with a huff.

“She’s just… different,” Jake mumbled. Riki nodded nearby.

“I’m not going to hurt her. I swear it. I just… am intrigued by her.” Jake promised.

There was a disbelieving lull in the room, but Jungwon sighed out, head tilting back and with reluctance the argument was over. Mostly at the exhaustion of fighting with them. He didn’t want to fight. His shoulders sagged.

“Fine.” He mumbled.

Jake nodded firmly, devoutly. He wouldn’t hurt her. Not his Heart.

His phone buzzed.

‘Hey Jake! It’s YN.’

His grin was blinding, and it caught the attention of every single vampire in the room.

It was the next class, and Jake was excited. His stomach was in butterflies; his heart thumping eagerly. Maybe it was her heart too. Their Heart, he had begun to think. The week had been a long one – one full of strange observations. His heart was more active than ever. It was no longer slow and steady but a constantly changing beating thing. It lit his cells alight and he felt more alive than ever.

His heart acted up more when he texted her. They spoke of his notes at first. Then the class itself but then they had already jumped to good morning and good night texts. He knew she was watching a new drama. She knew he liked hip-hop and he had made a Spotify playlist for the pair of them to add new songs for one another. It was nice. It was more than nice. Jake loved having a new friend for the first time in literally decades.

He had texted her that he was on the way to the lecture hall and to save him a seat – something he added after his stomach roiled in nerves for over five minutes.

As he opened the doors to the lecture hall, he was shellshocked to see Jungwon and Heeseung already there. And sandwiched in between them was YN. Jake flushed red, his skin turning a pleasant tawny pink. Was it embarrassment or anger or jealousy? He couldn’t tell. He felt overwhelmed and hot at the sight of YN giggling at Jungwon’s words. The flock leader smiled at her, sweet cheeks pillowing in bashfulness.

‘Why are they here!?’ Jake whined internally.

‘Jealous much?’ Heeseung raised his brows, teasingly, as he communicated telepathically with Jake.

Jake glared at the other before his eyes softened as he glanced over at YN. Her hair was so pretty, haloed in the setting sun. Everything was a pretty orange-bright in the lecture hall; the windows in the back painting the room in a sunset glow. Licking his lips and swallowing down the dryness of hunger-thirst and anxiety (both only making the scratchiness of his throat worse).

“Hey Jake,” she beamed over as he began to climb the stairs to the trio. Her desk-table had been tugged out already and her notebook splayed open.

“Hi,” he greeted, still far from their seats. “You’ve met Jungwon and Heeseung I see.” He smiled, albeit a bit forced.

Jungwon was leaned in close to YN, his elbow on the armrest closest to her. He flashed Jake a smile full of fangs. If Jake wouldn’t tell him what was so different about the human, he was determined to find out himself. That’s what Jungwon did best – investigate. Investigate and protect. He’d do anything to know things in advance so that he and his blood-brothers would never be caught off guard again. They’d never be hurt like that again.

And so, he investigated. Looked her up on social media, searched her name in search engines. And it all came back normal. A good student, a few parties on her Instagram, photos of aesthetically pleasing country sides and forests. A small town almost country girl turned big city college student.

She was debating about a nursing major. That was something she told him as she sat down, asking who was the nurse. He liked her boldness and he told her what he thought honestly. He mentioned the long hours of interning. She was empathetic, kind at his struggles. Her hand had squeezed his as if it’d comfort him and he swore there was an electric shock.

But other than that… she was normal.

‘What are you doing?’ Jake exclaimed at Heeseung.

‘Getting to know your hyperfixation,’ Heeseung argued back.

‘But-‘ there was a pettiness and possessiveness. ‘She’s mine! My Heart.’

‘You texted her nonstop, you giggle at every message – what’s so interesting? We wanted to know.’

‘Ive only known her for a week, hyung! Don’t scare her away.’

‘We aren’t! Theyre talking about nursing and doctor stuff.’

“Heeseung?”

Heeseung blinked, sound coming back into focus as her call. He had been so focused on their conversation, a telepathic effort that he hadnt heard her call his name twice. He looked to her. Her smile was sweet as she repeated the question.

“What’s your major?” she asked. “Sorry for not asking earlier. Jake had hyped up Jungwon’s major.”

“You’re okay,” he reassured her with a charming grin. “I’m a music major.”

“Oh wow!” she exclaimed. “That’s so cool. What’s, like, your thing? Is it more traditional music or-?” she trailed off, giving him the floor to talk.

“I started off with the piano,” he said. “We all did,” he admitted, glancing at Jake and Jungwon. “I like songwriting the most compared to instrumentals.”

He preened at her reaction, hearing how she awed and flustered at the thought of a poetic man. He smiled. There was a passing thought, did they grow up together?

Her gaze flickered to Jake as he plopped his bag down and sat down next to Heeseung. His bag hit the motorcycle visor besides Heeseung’s foot.

“What motorcycle do you have?” she asked.

“You want a ride?” he teased, staring her down. Charming, flirtatiously.

Her cheeks flushed, and he grinned. He heard Jungwon’s playful disagreement, an internal roll of his eyes. Jake’s outraged ‘What?’ But Heeseung realized… he hadn’t heard her thoughts. He swallowed. Leaning closer, he stared at her with his entrancing eyes. She giggled a bit and shifted her gaze away.

Nothing… still.

“I was just curious. Jake took the bus the other day – do you all ride motorcycles?” she asked instead, looking over at Jungwon.

Heeseung chuckled, a bit distressed as he looked over at Jake. A flash of insecurity twinkled in his eyes.

‘What’s up?’ Jake asked silently.

‘I can’t hear her thoughts.’ His telepathic freak out made Jake’s brows crinkle in confusion.

“Only Heeseung is the daredevil.” Jungwon replied.

There was a polite hum from the very man mentioned before YN’s eyes widened.

“Oh, Jake, before I forget, I have your umbrella!” she exclaimed, reaching into her bag.

As she ducked her head, Jake and Jungwon mouthed words at each other quickly. Mostly in surprise, wondering what was wrong with Heeseung. He seemed so out of it. Starstruck. When her head popped back up and her hand held a transparent umbrella, they both smiled at her, close lipped.

“That’s my umbrella,” Jungwon commented, raising a brow at Jake. “I was looking for it a few days ago and you said you didn’t know where it—"

“Whoops,” Jake charmed as he took hold of the outstretched umbrella.

“Well, thank you again – and to you too, Jungwon,” she acquiesced, glancing at him with a gentle gratefulness.

He felt a whirl in his stomach, and he couldn’t help the bright almost youthful grin from tumbling to his lips.

“Its no problem,” he replied.

‘Whipped.’ Heeseung teased even in his distress.

‘Do you want to ride?’ Jungwon teased back, his gaze hardening as he looked over at Heeseung. Heeseung raised his brows, biting his lip with a fang before looking back at his phone. Trying to process the strangeness in his head. He tried hearing her thoughts now, focusing on her. But it felt like the more he focused on her, the more distant her thought became. It was something he had never experienced before.

More students were tumbling in now, making the room louder and louder. Both with their thoughts and their conversations. Their own conversation steered towards the class, their workloads, even the weather. Normal and easy things. Every now and then, Jake would ask about something they texted like if she liked this song or that song. Heeseung continued to try to hear her thoughts, staring her down when she wasn’t looking. YN could feel his gaze still, a constant light blush on her cheeks at the attention. Jungwon observed her as well.

He observed and investigated. Looking over her phone when it buzzed, showing her texts between her and her friends. She was going to a party this weekend it looked like. A reminder to go get groceries today was set. A reoccurring alarm that read ‘take medicine (don’t turn off and think you’ll remember go take them now)’ had a pop up from earlier in the day in her notifications.

While she was cute and polite, he still didn’t quite get it. She wasn’t other-earthly. Yes, his heart seemed to thud faster around her. Which hadn’t happened before. And sure, the world slowed and seemed calm and not as overwhelming. Okay, it was strange. She was strange. But still, utterly normal.

After the class and after they packed up their bags, she said goodbye to Jungwon and Heeseung easily with a little wave, standing close to Jake. The soft fluffy haired vampire adjusted his backpack as he waited patiently for her. Jungwon noticed that. He seemed calmer now – not unhinged like last week. Maybe she was okay with him, he pondered. His head tilted as he looked at Jake.

“You’re not coming with us?”

Jake shook his head, swallowing albeit a bit nervously. “We’re going to go study.” He said.

“There’s a new coffee-shop down the street,” YN told them. “Jake saw it and said we should go there.”

‘You like her.’ Heeseung stated simply, telepathically.

Jake’s cheek burned a pretty-red, and that was his answer.

“See you later then,” Heeseung leewayed for Jungwon who despite his best efforts still clung to his worry.

There was always a hint of guilt, a hint of worry for his friends. Even now, after a hundred years. He just wanted them safe. Heeseung knew that.

Heeseung also wanted all of them to be happy. And he knew Jungwon wanted that too, deep down.

With an arm thrown around Jungwon’s shoulder, the two were off, heading up the stairs of the lecture hall to the upper exits.

“Your friends are really nice,” they heard YN say to Jake softly. “They saw me sitting by myself and joined me.”

“They didn’t bug you?” Jake asked gently.

“No way. Jungwon told me all about his nursing job and the program here. He was really helpful. He offered to give me a tour if I wanted it. Heeseung was nice too. He’s funny.”

Jungwon and Heeseung preened, hearing her even as they continued to walk further and further away.

“They’re like my brothers,” Jake chuckled. “I know they can come off strong, but they mean well.”

“They were nice. Now, come on. I owe you a coffee, right? For the umbrella last week?” she teased. Her hand tugged at his sleeve, daringly.

Jake’s low chuckle sent butterflies up her spine.

“No way,” he replied walking to catch up with her. His fingers brushed over hers but he didn’t grab her hand… yet. “I’ll buy for us. My treat.”

By then, it was harder to hear the couple. Heeseung and Jungwon were walking side by side on the street, far from the university now. It was only then they spoke.

“I get it,” Jungwon said simply. Admittingly.

“Me too,” Heeseung agreed. “I couldn’t hear her thoughts, Jungwon.”

The pair shared a look.

“We’ll talk about it at home,” Jungwon promised before they flurried into a flock of bats right as a car passed the duo.

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