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sinofwriting · 1 year

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Private Professor - Max Verstappen

Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.

It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.

At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.

Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.

It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.

Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.

“No girlfriend?” Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?” “Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing. “I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.

He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.

It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.

The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.

His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.

They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.

She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.” “Four?” “We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”

It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.

His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.

“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”

Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?

Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.

Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.

It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.

Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.

It also leads to their biggest fight in years.

“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!” “And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.” She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.” “Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.” “Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?” “You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”

“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?” He nods. “For our future kids?” “Yes.” “So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds. He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.” “Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.” “I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.” “No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses. “Unless,” he encourages. “If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.” “No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.” “Their first degree.” He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?” Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.” His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.” “First degree only.” She agrees.

It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?” She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.” “Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.” “Not anytime soon at least.” “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”

Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.

The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.

So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.

She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.

The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.

It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.

Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.

“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.

“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone. “No.” Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,” “No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.” “I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears. “You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.” “Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs. “I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.” “Thank you.” “Of course.”

When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.

Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.

“You’re drunk.” “You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him. “You’ve been crying.” “Yeah.” He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.” “Yeah.” He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?” “That bad.” She nods.

At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.

“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly. “You’re going to marry me.” She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”

It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.

“I know I proposed early.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.” “Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours. “Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.” “Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.” “Actually,” “Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?” She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it. “Well, what did it say? The email.” “Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.” He kisses her before she can say anything else.

“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide. “You know what that means right?” He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her. “I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.” Blue eyes widen. “And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”

Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.

It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.

“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.” His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread. “That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.” “How I want to?” “Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.” “I’m not going to be cruel.” “No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.” His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?” She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”

She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.

He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.

It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.

He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.

“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera. “Charles. Safe flight?” “Always. What do you have there?” “Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?” He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.

“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously. He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.” Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.

“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page. “The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says. “Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?” Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.

“Your engagement?” “Your what?” “Engaged?” “Impossible.” “Lies.”

The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.

“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it. He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.

When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.

“Is this real?” Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.” “You’re really engaged.” “Yes, Christian. I am.” The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?” “What?” “The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.” “No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption. The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.

“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice. “Yes.” “And I never believed you.” He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.” Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.” “Thank you.” “But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?” Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”

They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.

Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“You alright?” She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.” Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.” “A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.

Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.

“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?” Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.” “It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max. “Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side. Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?” “Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him. Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.” “Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.” “Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles. “It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything. “Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “It’s not.” She assures.

Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.

“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.” She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.” Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down. “Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it. She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.” A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.” Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.

It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.

“You told them you're a teacher.” “I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.” “I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look. But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.” “So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?” Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @benstormy @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @boiohboii @topguncultleader

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #sins fics

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clandestineloki · 1 year

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strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy!

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way.

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?"

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?"

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~"

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost��begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #clndstnlki's strawberry sweet saga

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pitchsidestories · 3 months

Text

Pizza girl II Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2180

summary: You were raised through La Masia, but you still feel anxious, before your first game for the Barcelona Femeni A team. Luckily a team bonding evening with your teammates help to ease your anxiety.

a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here. We really enjoyed writing this. Let us know if you'd read more platonic fanfics from us.

Sometimes you still felt the urge to pinch you. Training with the Barcelona Femeni A Team on a regular basis was like a dream come true for you.

Growing up in the Catalonian hills, Barcelona and the famous team seemed very far away until after a game someone reached out to your parents, telling them that you were a raw diamond which could be polished in La Masia.

It wasn’t easy for them to let you go, but they knew that all you ever wanted to do was to play football and it was a place where great players have started their career.

A few years have passed since the decision was made. You almost didn’t recognize the shy, little girl from her hometown village you were once. A piece of her was still in your sixteen-year-old heart. The anxiousness in your body came from her.

“Y/n.”, Alexia looked at you concerned, putting a hand on your shoulder.

For a second you were confused where you were until you remembered you were sitting on the bench in the changing room.

“Yes?”, you replied, there was a tiredness in your voice which didn’t get unnoticed by your captain.

“Are you okay?”, the midfielder asked worriedly.

“I’m just a little nervous before our match tomorrow.”, you admitted.

“We could tell. So, we have something for you.”, she replied, a warm smile dancing on her lips.

“You did? Wait, for me?”, you nervously ran a hand through your open, damp hair.

“Yes, we’ll meet tonight at my place.”, Alexia told you.

“Uhm, I thought I might do some extra training.”, you tried to brush of her kind offer. Desperate to prove that despite your anxiety you deserved to play the upcoming game.

“Oh, no.”, Salma shook her head.

“No chance, you’ll come with us.”, Vicky who was closest to your age decided grinning devilishly.

“Yes, this will be good for you.”, Esmee smiled encouragingly at you.

“We’ll make pizzas and I know you love them, so you can’t say no.”, Alexia explained the plan for the evening.

“Okay, I’ll come.”, you answered, wondering deep inside if relaxing was a better idea than exercising. On the other hand, maybe seeing your teammates would stop your thoughts from running wild. You knew it was especially bad when you were all alone in your room.

“Great.”, the blonde nodded, visibly satisfied.

“See you tonight, then?”, you looked up to her.

“Yes, we’ll see you later, it’s going to be good.”, she chirmed.

On your way home you realized that the midfielder has send you the time and place for the team bonding night. Your fear to arrive to late made you stand in front of Alexias appartement door five minutes to early, you knocked at the door nervously.

“Hi Ale.”, you greeted her, licking your lips anxiously.

The older player seemed genuinely happy to see you and immediately pulled you into a quick hug: “Hi y/n. Come on in.“

Politely smiling, she took a step back to let you in.

You held your breath as you took in her modern stylish apartment. “Thanks for the invite.“, you mumbled.

Alexia led you towards the kitchen: “Oh, you’re welcome. It’s always great to see our young talents come through the ranks so we got to make sure to welcome them with open arms.“

“Thats very sweet of you. It’s a dream that I’m able to play in a team with the Alexia Putellas.“, you replied. You wanted to keep your cool but somehow you failed to keep the awe out of your voice.

“Oh please. I once was as young as you are now… Remember, we all start somewhere.“, she said with a dismissive hand gesture.

You could feel the blood rush into your cheeks: “I know but…“

“But?“

“It’s still big.“

“Of course.“

You almost sighed in relief when the door bell rang

“Oh, that’s probably the others.“, Alexia nodded to herself and disappeared to let her guests in.

You bit your lip. Why were you being so awkward?

“Hi, girls!“, you hear her greet them from across the room.

Onas voice replied: “Hi, Ale.“

Lucy was the first one in the kitchen, winking at you to say hello while still talking to the captain: “We brought some toppings for the pizza.“

She put a bag down on the table.

Alexia looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and disgust: “Do you really think I wasn’t prepared for my own pizza night?“

“Yeah, Lucy didn’t trust you with that.“, Ona shrugged, smiling innocently at the midfielder.

Alexia rolled her eyes: “Typical.“

You followed the interaction with amusement until Lucy turned to you: “So we obviously had to make a little stop at the market. Try the tomatoes, y/n. They’re delicious.“

Lucy moved around in Alexias kitchen like it was her own, cutting you a sliece of a juicy red tomato.

You popped it in your mouth. It was sweet and flavourful. “Delicious!“

“Right?“

“Yes, I love them.“, you beamed.

More football player flooded the kitchen. You had not realized that Alexia had left again to let them in.

“Hey, everyone!“, Vicky called excitedly. For a second you felt the slight sting of jealousy. You were almost the same age, but she moved around the team like they have been friends forever. You hoped that it would be like this for you too soon.

She came over to hug you, her curls tickling on your skin and the jealousy was gone: “Vicky, hi.“

“And? Kind of cozy here, right?“, she grinned at you.

You took the scene of Alexias kitchen in. Drinks were on the table while a few players started to prepare the ingredients for the pizza and others were working on the dough.

It was a mess but somehow you felt very at peace. “It’s.“, you smiled.

“I hope you think so.“, Alexia raised an eyebrow at you as she walked past you, always the busy hostess.

While you all were in the process of creating cute and aesthetically pleasing pizzas you took all your courage to ask a question which has been burning on your tongue during the whole evening.

“Girls, how do you handle anxiety before big matches?”

Every player stopped moving around for a moment, thinking about the ask you just dropped. It was clear to them that it came from your heart and was something weighing heavily on your young shoulders.

“I don’t even know what that is.” Lucy joked, she immediately got elbowed by her smaller girlfriend.

“Lucy be honest.”, Ona demanded.

“Yeah, okay. Even us oldies get nervous at times. Right Ale?”, the older defender shrugged before turning around to face the blonde.

“Of course, I was very nervous when I came back from my ACL.”, she admitted earnestly.

“Understandable.”, Ona nodded empathetically.

“Oh yes.”, you whispered.

“Everyone is nervous before their first game for the biggest club in the world.”, Salma agreed solemnly.

“You all make it look so easy.”, you remarked. Memories from Vicky’s and her breakthrough were playing behind your eyes.

“It’s not.”, Alexia assured you calmly.

“But we’re here for you.”, Aitana promised in an encouragingly tone.

“Exactly, we’re all supporting you.”, Ona added, giving you a side hug.

“Everyone is so cute here.”, you teared up, their unwavering support made you emotional.

“Oh, we know.”, Salma waved it off nonchalantly.

“Please don’t cry, that floor was expensive.”, Alexia threw in teasingly.

“Oh, sorry.”, you quickly apologized.

“Alexia.”, Olga who came to the kitchen from work scolded her girlfriend.

“Sorry, y/n. But you know that I was only joking, right?”, the captain sheepishly smiled at you. It was always a miracle for you to watch the midfielder’s stern and serious face which she showed in matches and training change in the presence of the woman she loved.

“Typical, Ale.”, Lucy rolled her eyes playfully at her.

“I was suspecting it.”, you muttered.

“I promise you’ll used to her jokes.”, Vicky hugged you from behind, resting her head on your left shoulder.

“I hope so.”, you laughed insecurely.

“Pizzas are ready, we can go to the balcony now.”, Alexia announced. She and Olga took charge of getting everything which was needed at its rightful place. The delicious scent of freshly baked goods filled the room and was still noticeably outside.

For a moment you took everything in, the golden hour had begun and the view of the city from the appartement building was gorgeous.

“Wow, what a great sight.”, you mumbled deeply impressed.

Alexia smiled, clearly enjoying the sight of her beloved city once again: “It’s nice, right?“

“It’s beautiful.“, you agreed, finally tearing your gaze away from the view and looking down at your heart shaped pizza.

“Stop bragging, Putellas!“, Lucy called from the other side of the balcony, rolling her eyes.

“Excuse me? I’m just showing the little one that her future looks golden!“, Alexia played offended as gestured towards the view from her balcony.

Lucy grimaced with a laugh: “If she’ll become La Reina 2.0. The rest of us can’t afford this.“

For a second you wondered how much of this was true but you had no time to think about it as Ona smirked: “Besides, she’s a defender. Just like us.“

“Another Bronze would be a nightmare for this team.“, Alexia grinned directly at the English defender.

Lucy jokingly frowned: “What’s that supposed to mean?“

“You know exactly what I mean.“

“No, I don’t.“

Ona interrupted their bickering with a proud smile: “Y/n is going to be her own version.“

Again, you could feel the heat rush back into your cheeks while Mapi ruffled your hair: “Exactly, no pressure on the little one.“

“She’s already puts enough pressure on herself.“, Esmee agreed.

Alexias eyes softened as she looked at you: “We’re just joking with her.“

“I slowly start to get your humour.“, you smiled back at her.

“That’s good.“

“This could be a wonderful start for you in the team.“, Ingrid said, ignoring Mapi trying to steal a slice of pizza from her plate.

Chewing, her girlfriend nodded: “We’ll make sure of that.“

The next day, you were actually subbed in for the first time. It was five more minutes plus stoppage time to play.

Still, your anxiety was gnawing at you. Your heartbeat was too fast and you felt that sinking feeling in your stomach.

That was until you looked up at your teammates who applauded you. Ona who was subbed off for you, pulled you into a quick hug.

You were still nervous but you were okay with it. Whatever happened, this team had your back.

In the last minute of stoppage time, you made a run towards the goal. Carolines cross from the left came perfectly. You cleanly headed it in.

What had just happened?

Wide-eyed, you turned to your teammates: “Have you seen that?“

“That was insane!“, Alexia cheered.

Ona shouted from the sideline: “Incredible, y/n!“

Lucy patted your head with a little more force than necessary: “We told you!“

“She did it her way though.“, Mapi said, looking like a proud parent.

“Guys…“, you protested. The attention was a bit too much now.

“What?“, Vickys voice asked while she jumped onto your back in celebration.

“Stop.“, you laughed, trying to shake her off.

Once you got rid of her, Esmee scooped you up into her arms and lifted you up: “No, we got to celebrate.“

“What are you doing?“, you giggled. You felt like a trophy being passed around.

“Not impressed by that lift? Oh wow.“, Esmee pouted as she set you back down.

“Thanks.”, you sung relieved before you locked eyes with Alexia who beamed at you.

“I’m proud of you, kid.”, the captain congratulated to, as she put you into a rough hug.

“Thank you, Ale.”, you mouthed forever gratefully to play along side such talented and legendary players, afterwards Alexia released you from her grip with a happy sigh.

“But remember you’re a defender first, y/n.”, Lucy threw in teasingly.

“Coming from you?”, you raised an eyebrow at her.

“Hey, don’t get sassy!”, the English defender yelled. She looked amused by your behaviour, because it reminded her of herself.

“Sorry.”, you apologized only half-serious.

“Come here!”, Lucy commanded while ruffling your hair.

“Stop that!”, you demanded giggling.

“Lucy, stop.”, Ona intervened chuckling.

“Thanks, Oni. Can I go and celebrate with my family now?”, you asked your teammates impatiently.

“Yes, go and celebrate.”, the Spanish defender nodded smiling warmly.

“Thank you, girls. For everything.”, you muttered deeply moved. You loved being a part of this team with every fibre of your being.

“Yeah, yeah, leave, before we all get too emotional.”, Lucy waved it off. But you were able to see through her coolness and pulled her into a big hug too.

“Alright, bye!”, you told them and when you started running to your parents who have made everything possible.

Although deep down you knew know you had a family away from home now in form of your teammates who even made the anxious times pass easier and the glorious moments so much richer.

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buggybambi · 8 months

Text

gallagher next door | lip gallagher

lip learns an interesting fact about you and has to change it. ─ 1.43k ─ nsfw content, minors dni! (fem/afab!reader, 'angel', 'honey', other pet names used, oral - f recieving, unwrapped p in v, fingering, friends to lovers, no use of y/n)

Lip Gallagher’s throwing pebbles at your window, and it doesn't surprise you.

Lip had been your best friend for a few years now. He was the boy you went to for dating advice, you were the one he went to for his crazy family dramas and advice on what to do most of the time. You two were each other’s soulmate, as people joked.

Ever since you moved to Chicago nearly sixteen years ago and met Lip as the boy next door, you knew there was something unique about him. Something that drew you to him naturally.

He’d made a habit most recently of climbing into your window to talk. Late night thoughts, troubes. Anything and everything, all he had to do was throw small enough sized pebbles to get your attention and you’d sneak him in through the front door up to your bedroom.

Sure enough, it was happening again tonight. An oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts, you stuck your head out into the cold summer air. Finding Lip down below as you hum. “Whatcha doing, Gallagher?” You ask.

“Hey, there’s the prettiest girl. Do you look prettier then the last time I saw you?” He asks, head tilted up at you as your roll your eyes. “You saw me this morning, Lip.” You comment.

"Point stands, sweetness. You gonna make me stand here all night or do I get to come in?" He asks. You pause like you're contemplating it before you giggle, rushing downstairs and opening the front door. "Your parents home?" He questions as he hangs his coat up.

You shake your head. "Business conference." You answer as you walk upstairs with him. He plops himself down on your bed, grabbing one of your stuffed rabbits and playing with its ears. You sit beside him. "Have you eaten today?" It's always the first thing you ask him, knowing he can either get so busy and forget, or just forget to eat in general.

"Nah. Had oatmeal Fi made this morning, though. Wasn't very good." He answers as you frown. "Lip, that was like eight in the morning. It's almost.." you give a glance to the clock. ".. nine pm. Let me make you something. Mac and cheese?" You offer, remembering it's one of the boys favorites.

He lets out a soft groan. "That sounds better then head right now. You know me so well." He says as he sits up. You laugh nervously. "I wouldn't know but.. whatever you say." You comment.

He stares at you. "No one's ever gone down on you?" He asks, all seriousness in his voice. You roll your eyes. "Don't call it that, Lip. But to answer, no." You say with a shrug.

You frown as he continues to stare. "It's not a big deal." You mumble. He shakes his head. "No, no I just- I guess I assumed an ex would have offered or something at least."

"I don't know. One guy.. tried I guess.. but he wasn't very good and he stopped just like, a minute in cause I took too long." You answer.

"Okay.. angel, can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can."

"You trust me, right?" He takes a step. "Of course I do, Lip, more than anyone." He nods. "Next question.." He says.

"Would you let me taste you?" He's suddenly standing closer to you, just within arms reach.

Your eyes meet his instantly as you stare at him. "Lip-" You begin to speak but cut yourself off, shaking your head. "I don't want you to feel like you have to or anything, and I don't want this to change things between us."

"It won't. You trust me, don't you? I wanna do this." He says, pressing his forehead against yours. You stare at him before you exhale. "Okay." You agree, your voice soft.

It doesn't take long after that for his lips to be on yours, kissing you slowly. Your hands sit at your side before you think to move them, wrapping them around his neck. His find your waist, slowly beginning to move you toward the bed, letting you fall back first as you smile against his lips.

His hands explore new areas, as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You let him do as he pleases, your hands gripping at fabric as he pulls away, beginning to kiss down your jaw.

“Lip.” You moan as he begins sucking on your neck. He only pulls away to remove your shirt, so he can have easier access to your chest. Kissing down your chest, hands on your thighs as you let out soft moans that he thinks are heavenly.

He then removes your shorts, removing his own shirt. Hands kneeding at the skin at your thighs, as he begins kissing down your stomach. You let out impatient whines as he smirks against the skin. “Patience, angel. Gotta take my time with you, y’know?” He whispers to himself as he finally reaches your wet cunt.

“So wet f’me, aren’t you?” He asks softly, the only sound filling the room was the fan blowing in the corner. You can't answer, anticipation stopping you as you just nod, staring at the ceiling. Staring at Lip as his nose bumps against your clit seems impossible.

He gently slides his tongue past your wet folds, your body wanting to arch at the sudden intrusion of his tongue in you. He holds your hips down, only moving away from placing kisses on your clit to gently insert a finger in you. "Taste so sweet, angel." He whispers.

Your mind is fogged, the only thought being one thing: Lip. Needing to feel him, you reach a hand down to run a hand on his hair. He grins, placing kisses on the inside of your thigh as he adds a second finger. He begins leaving a hickey on the inside of your thigh, as he arches his fingers.

He removes them, replacing them instead with his tongue. Eating you like a man starved. He can't stop, he tells himself that he cannot stop. Grinding into the mattress, the only thought plaguing his mind is you. How sweet you taste, how tight you feel. The way his jaw is soaked with you.

"Lip, I'm close." You moan softly, as he kneeds the skin on your thigh.

"Come for me, sweetheart." He requests, and you do so. Letting yourself fall apart for him, as you throw your head back.

He grins, as he pulls away. "I need to feel you, Lip, please." You beg, and he's already removing his pants and freeing himself from his boxers. "Okay, okay.. now, honey, I can grab a condom but-"

"No, please. I'm on the pill, we're safe." You confirm with a nod, as you stare at him. He laughs, as he kisses you again as he slides himself past your folds, giving a quiet warning before he inserts himself into you.

You let out a mix of a gasp and a moan, wrapping your legs around him in an attempt to push him deeper. "Shit, angel." He mumbles as he does go a bit deeper in you, thrusting ever so slowly.

“Squeezing around me so tight, yeah? This - fuck - pussy was just made for me, wasn’t it?” He asks, knowing you’re too fucked out to respond with anything more then nods and moans.

“Good girl. Taking me so well, yeah?” He asks, a hand snaking through between your bodies, finding your clit and his fingers rubbing small circles on it. “Could stay here forever, y’know? Just live right here with you..”

You don't hear most of his incoherent rambles except for one more thing: a very soft "I love you."

"Lip, 'm close." You signal as you run a hand through his hair. He continues rubbing circles on your clit, as he buries his face in your neck. "Let go f'me, sweetness." He pleads softly.

You give in, your climax succeeding as you sigh into the mattress. He doesn't last long after that, spilling into you before pulling out swiftly.

Neither of you say anything until you remember what he mumbled. An I love you. "Did you mean it? When you.. you said you loved me?" You question. You're really asking if he meant as a friend or as more.

He looks over at you. "I've been in love with you since I met you, sweetness, of course I meant it.” He answers. You stare at him for a moment before you kiss him again.

Things definetly couldn’t be the same between you two.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

shine on, shine on, my loves!

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my lip gallagher masterlist here for more fanfics!

- mae

#maeberzatto #mae writes!#mae writes: shameless #lip gallagher thoughts #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x you #shameless #shameless fanfiction #shameless fanfic #shameless thoughts #lip gallagher x fem reader

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spurbleu · 2 months

Text

rendezvous

ch.1 mother’s advice

[ johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x f!stripper!reader ]

▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎

S. mother left you with very little aside from her cat, calloused advice, and a legacy at your local brothel.

warnings. shameless men, customers service industry, mentions of abuse

a/n: lore drop and y'alls first meeting :) again, slowburn so be patient

word count: ~3.2k

‧︎༚︎☉°︎༚︎‧︎༚︎✳︎☉︎︎°︎‧︎༚︎‧︎

“Only eva’ let the good lookin’ ones get dirty wich ya, darlin,”

your mama had said rather plainly one night as you fixed her tea, voice coarse under cigarette,

“no use ina ugly fuck.”

Strange, how the only good advice she had given you (alive, at least. plenty of lessons from her dead), was about sex. She’d never been gentle enough with your hair to elicit the idea she might be with her words (but being a daughter meant you hoped). So, when you buried her, outdated ramblings and boorish tongue, most of what you took with you was boneless.

You packed the vulgar with the rest of the house, strapping it to the back of your truck and hoping it would nestle in the tobacco-less walls of your new apartment (a different shade of yellow- little kinder- absent of bile). Or maybe the newer wooden floors, eroded under boot heel, sturdy still.

On arrival you discovered it had found a less subtle home. Must have been some twisted fate (a mother’s memory- hardly sweet), that your new apartment was neighbors with your town’s brothel.

Funny, how a broke, orphaned woman like yourself, sun bleached elbows and sore neck, was given an opportunity to finally test the merit of a mother’s advice.

The withering building paralleled one of her last gifts to you, a lingerie set. Old brick red, lace trim gauze between blocks. Thick straps bridging bralette to panties like the iron beams holding up a raunchy sign- Rendezvous.

Stench of sex fogged up greasy windows, drunk mumblings of wifeless (or, a more depressing thought, married) men on its porch, wearing crucifixes in bogus devotion. The oak beneath their leather was rusting by their print of dust and the grooves beneath a bottle of beer- sorrel glass broken at the foot of creaky stairs.

Recently, your old church pews found their way back to your mind. You pushed the last of your boxes through the door, knees blushing purple with guilt. No, you had decided upon arrival- you wouldn’t even look at the place.

Pig stye, you’d convinced yourself, whore house. You turned your nose to it all, prissy and ornery even as they whistled from the railings, red knuckles itching for your attention. Hasty for the day they’d see you in dusk light, starting your shift. Only for you to leave them, day after day, cockdumb and unsatisfied.

And you had been doing so well, too.

That was until you opened the envelope- your mother’s allowance. The one useful thing that the drunken, deceased mess of a women could’ve given your hopeless soul. Magnum Opus of her faulty motherhood, forgiven with just some fucking money.

But she was always more complicated than that, wasn’t she. Peaking from the back of the white fold was, indeed, that wonderful, faded green of cash- but in front of it was a depressing beige- capitalized by black ink.

Girl,

Leave this apartment to you, take care of the old thing. That brothel knows me likes me; they’ll give you a job. Make yourself some real money, use my looks, darling. Be good. without me

Much love,

Mother.

You tossed the note aside before your hungry fingers tore the dip of the paper apart- revealing, and you counted a dozen times to be sure, sixteen dollars.

Sixteen dollars is what you’re worth. Cheap cattle at a fair, squalid men drooling as your mother snickers. Your scrawny legs buckled under the weight of the gold bell- which, you’ve now discovered, costs more than you do.

You’d be angrier if you were surprised. But you weren’t. Hell, sixteen wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been- with the way her money was spent on dozens of those cancer packs a day, cig smoke stealing your wages one stick at a time.

You plucked up her note, reading between the pen’s blood to find anything else. Searching, like you had in her for decades, for a little more. A secret message between your fiber taught liaison, written in the tone she had used with you (old spice on dry meat) up until she couldn’t anymore. You could hear it now, reading the note to you, and suddenly you were five again, tugging at her shawl as sleep nipped the last pages of your Goodnight Tales.

You didn’t fail to notice the way she signed it, either. Mother. You had always opted for the simpler, casual name, ‘mama’. It felt truer to what she was, an apparition of a parent spared by a younger nostalgia- lacking the reliance, the respect, of an actual mother.

Yet another opinion where the both of you seemed to diverge.

No, of course you weren’t surprised.

But you were now extremely aware she had limited your options to the worst one. No southern shop, built on dirt and sweat, was going to take a labor virgin without a foot in the door. Which meant the only place desperate enough to take soft, vestal hands and good hair was that ratty brothel.

So, stubborn oxen halting actual progress, you watched the bar for a week.

Perched on a chair by the sill, the last bags of honey tea in your cup as you observed the lulls in its busy. That way, when you eventually forced your ass from the dips it made in the old seat, you’d walk to the door with as little shame as possible.

As you scurried across the street at dawn, sunrise made the old cobble appear prettier than it was. Light finding the gaps between stone, serenity’s veil cast over the Dutch Gables in early morning. The birth of day scared off the grimier patrons, leaving you in the barren womb to watch it’s first breath. You paused there, relishing the one time the small market looked…worth it.

Seconds after you slide through the saloon doors, barely given enough time to drink up the sandy lighting and timber walls, a voice calls from behind the bar.

“We’re closed.”

She’s a natural blonde, you can tell by her lighter roots. Freckles contour a round face under eye bags- and you even catch the subtle crease of crows’ feet next to her grey eyes- blemished and old. Her lips screwed into what you think might be a permanent frown- that is until you speak,

“I’m here to apply.”

and it turns into a snarl, skin pitching at the bridge of her nostril, “We ain’t hirin’.”

Your mother’s note comes back to you, and you loosen the resentment in your voice as you say her name. “I’m her daughter. ‘Said I- you’d let me work here.”

The wrinkle laxed, and her snarl came down to a thin neutral line. “Did she finally kick the bucket?”

You nodded, unsure how to feel when her lips curled. “Damn. Y’had a firecracker of a mother. Worked alongside ‘er iner prime. Solid woman,” her eyes ran up your shoulders, “terrible mother, I reckon.”

You swallowed- she grinned. Her hand beckoned you to the stools, and you took a seat, shaking her outstretched hand. “You got ‘er looks. You’ll do fine ‘ere. Names Francesca.” Her eye narrowed to slits, “Nobody calls me Franny. Its Francesca, or Miss- got it?”

You nodded, and she flashed you another glimpse of her yellow teeth.

“I’ll start ya at the bar. See ‘ow long ya last.”

Turns out, you lasted a lot longer than she thought you would.

Swatting advances away as you gave patrons bottles, but smart enough to never get mouthy. You caught more flies with honey anyhow- so as your boots became comfortable in the mop-clean lumber floors, you’d occasionally entertain some of them.

“You single, sweetheart?” Slurred from a regular as you filled his tab. Grisly looking fellow, got years on you. Too many to be talking.

“Enough to work here.” You slid him a drink with a smile. Syrup on a glass rather than salt. The spread of his lips was telling- he tasted it.

Boisterous laughter- too loud to want just liquor- “’nough to sit on an old man’s lap?”

No. Not enough that they thought they’d get lucky- but that was the trick, wasn’t it? Just barely easy enough to send them wily looks over your shoulder, cover the spite in your voice with flirts- onion layered by a blushing red skin- weak enough that it kept them hoping. But never truly easy, moving to the next customer before the last could lean for a fat kiss.

You rolled your eyes with your back turned to him, jaw clicking in thin patience.

“Not over here. That’s for the other rooms.”

His eyes followed your pointer finger, attention sinking its dull teeth into the cardinal doors.

You pretended not to mind your position as the face of the brothel rather than the body of it. Why would you anyway? You’re sure the girls back there would kill for an easy job like yours- given the chance to politely navigate around advances rather than being forced to feed them. You only had to serve the dry slacks- and watch them as they left soiled. You didn’t have to see- no, make- that filthy in-between.

Church taught you enough. Nothing but festering confessionals behind that door.

But goodness, could you be childish. Curious mind, insecure heart- all of you greedy. You were positive they made bushels more than you- and all for some more skin, done up hair and lidded eyes?

You could do that.

Bitter, confusing envy. Makes you mad when Francesca gave you a hard no after asking for a promotion- but sorry as you curl in thin sheets before dreamless slumber.

(Did your greed weigh more than morals? Did church and your father’s absence teach you that little? Nothing should be this existential- but maybe that’s why it’s uprooting. Forked road- giving up a part of you either way.

You hate to admit you buried something of your own with your mother’s body, but what you hate more is that it’ll take this decision to figure out just what it was. Your innocence- daughterhood and a sweet virtue, or your hearth- the fight to survive and earn. Living for a little vice.

You’d dream in saturation on these nights, colors crisper than they’ve ever been- even young. You were never sure why the colors were so bright.)

So here you are, another night drawn as a sloppy line under a bar, marking…3 months? Sunrise and sunset look so similar nowadays, and it made the silhouette of an hourglass harder to etch in the tan pages of your moleskin.

However, it did give you more time to sketch out the pub.

The booths pulled the same wood of the wall forward in a curved seat, split by a table and cushioned by yellow pillows- filled with rice, those damn things must have been harder than the booths themselves.

Around them, dark oak tables and creaky chairs- makes any working man feel ten pounds heavier with the way they whine when sat on. A candle and 3 coasters in the center of every round table, beckoning more drinks as the day died. In fact- those wax sticks were everywhere along the tavern- even in a chandelier that dangled above the liquor shelf, occasionally dripping hot tears on the bar.

Just the kind of place you’d expect to see the men you do.

Seedy- dusting in the corner of your bar are built scrawny- diet of yeast and grass evident in the hollow of their back. Mouths they hide from their mothers, hands that hit harder than their fathers. But in the redness of their cheeks- bloated by the sun and the contents you served them- was a weakness.

Masculine insecurity that had them calling you a ‘pretty bitch’. A compliment, but derogatory enough their clam tongue wasn’t revealed under the folds of their shell. No pearl, no wealth- just a common, beached, animal.

“’nother round, for mah fellows, baby.”

You glanced up. Sullen face, grey beard- twisted lips that cracked under ale. He flashed crooked teeth, and you strained a smile, forcing the tired plump of your cheeks to spread. You slipped your journal beneath the bar, taking his cups and filling them until the clouds of foam kissed the rim.

He flipped a couple coins on the counter, and you slid them into your palm.

You sighed, running your tongue along the cast of your teeth. Late hours were so boring- never new- repetitive that even the loud, sudden laughter from that back corner didn’t phase you anymore.

There were no more surprises- because everyone was here.

Ned and his calloused farmer men. Not too much of a hassle, sat in the back and called you names- but let you work. Callum and his wallowing ass in the center tables, nursing his umpteenth glass of the evening ever since his wife left.

And Silas- sweet boy- young and excited to drink. He’s more often than not by himself, drunk silly as he draws. You liked him more than the rest- brother feeling about him. Kinder.

So, it surprises you when the bell rings, well into the night, and he walks in.

Brutish arms- hung by shoulders that nearly reach the door frame. The rest of him was just as big- military fed, you had to assume. Strong jaw, buzzed skull except for a well-trimmed bush down the center. He stood out like a sore thumb, the slender builds of farmer boys a third of the bull that stood in front of you.

You weren’t the only one who noticed, as you heard the laughter behind you hush and Callum’s wallowing come to a lull. He didn’t seem to mind- especially as he made his way to the bar- eyes and smile beguiling- and directed at you.

Now you weren’t easily charmed- but you knew a handsome man when you saw one. It’s the particular weight on their shoulders- making their feet come down heavier and gate smooth.

Nothing wrong with looking at them- just as long as you don’t get too comfortable. Just because they’re clams with nicer shells, maybe even a pearl between clean teeth, doesn’t mean they’re any less washed up.

“Welcome. What can I get’cha tonight.” You offered him the same smile you gave everyone.

“Aye. A pint ‘il do.”

The thick arches of gaelic in his voice caught you off guard. Deep timbers, pine rooted in his throat, leaves lime with humor. It pooled in the back of your mouth- an aftertaste you found yourself liking.

You filled his glass, rolling the shock off your shoulders. “We don’t get many scots ‘n here.”

He chuckled as you handed him a glass, blue eyes unwavering as he took a sip. “Nae? Though’ it’da be fool of ‘em.”

He pulled a genuine laugh out of you- the sound of sarcasm familiar- comforting. “What brings you here.”

“Work.” He said plainly- but the twitch on his knuckle told you he wanted you to ask more.

“Military?”

“What gave ye tha’ idea?”

You hummed, eyes running up his shoulders. You didn’t miss how they squared, conscious under your gaze. “You don’t look like a farmer. Too much of you.”

“Aye, ere’s neva too much of me, darl.”

You sucked in your bottom lip. Charmer.

“So, you are military, then?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You idled your hands with one of the many dirty glasses that blistered under old soap studs and dried foam. The rags bumpy fabric prickled your fingers- enough to keep them from trembling when he spoke.

“What branch of the military brings you out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Most of em.”

Your lips thin to an embarrassed line. Right, of course. “I…guess I’m really asking what branch you are.”

He took another swing of his beer, and you watched as he tipped his jaw back- revealing the catch of his throat as he swallowed. Must have been on purpose- show off. “SAS. On leave, yer place looked tidy,” his eyes gave you a once over, “good tae see ’m right.”

Turning to set the glass down gave you an excuse to avoid his eyes. Demin blue but not casual, deep-set and sharp. Military grade, you could tell by the way they really saw. Accessing you, ran up the hunch of your spine and the click of your wrist- aiming to find spare bullets and threats.

He’d come up empty, though. No, not in you. All he’d find was the jump of your heart against your cervical.

“Mmm,” you offered, “Its cute, I’ll give it that much. Good for the drinks.”

He nodded, “’N maybe somethin more…”

These are the moments when your mother’s voice comes back to you. Thick spit, coarse hair- tangled and suffocating- your lungs sting almost as much as the red print on your cheek.

“Foolish child.”

Your back was turned, so you thought maybe you’d finally been tempting enough to something pretty. That the lilt in his voice, the gravel as it went an octave deeper, accent blooming under light o’s and rolled r’s- meant for your company.

That maybe, the looks you had been told were your only asset, had finally done some good.

You were left disappointed when you turned back around, cheeks a hopeful rose, when his eyes had left you. Instead, past your shoulder, to the red doors.

You’d never seen what was actually behind them, Francesca made sure of that. You could only assume it was the collection of every mans desire painted pretty- shelves of toys, women in bright, expensive lingerie, red lips on rum ones. A childish image, really, but what else were you to do?

In a way, you were just as desperate to get behind those doors as every man here. Not necessarily in the same way- not to satisfy some sick desire, dig up a buried, old arousal that their poor wives didn’t anymore.

No, for you it was to satisfy your own insecurity. Hungry creature, eager to prove and ready to sweat. To be something- pretty, ugly, didn’t matter. As long as you had a place there, you’d be rich.

“Oh, yes,” you let your customer smile come back, editing the script you were given in your head, “pretty gals over there. If you wanted a-“

“Ye work tere?”

You choked on nothing. “What?”

“Do ye work ‘n ta brothel?”

Genuine curiosity. Maybe he was hiding something else behind thin lips, but the question came out too casual for its boldness that you wouldn’t’ve caught it. You found yourself unsure in your own body, standing stiff as your bones questioned whether to lean, sit, or run.

You chose none of the three, and instead you spoke.

“No.” Not yet. You wanted to add. He hummed, taking a last swig of his pint before placing the cup on the table with a…hefty tip. You opened your mouth to say something, but when your eyes met his you were quickly hushed.

Ripped denim, now razor blue. The yellow of the lights seemed to bring it out, and if you weren’t confident he had killed a man, you were now.

“Shame,” he said, standing, “Such a bloody waste.”

#john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap x reader #soap cod #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #cod x reader

186 notes · View notes

hanasnx · 8 months

Note

bruce trying to explain to dick and jason that the young woman they saw in the manor is his 19 yo situationship !!

PART ONE ✩ PART TWO MINORS DNI 18+

BRUCE WAYNE cuffs his last link, and straightens out the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"I'm not sneaking around." JASON TODD insists, as if it should be obvious and he's disgusted Bruce would imply such a thing. A resentful smile replaces it as he claps a harsh hand on the back of DICK GRAYSON. "Birdie here was just helping me out, he told me you'd be gone by now. Didn't know you kept my copy." He raises the book into view and wiggles it.

"Of course, I would. It has all your annotations." Bruce replies calmly, and Jason's expression drops subtly. Bruce approaches you and adjusts the blanket you held so you'd be more covered up. "Why don't you go freshen up? The car's waiting." Your cheeks heat even more than before, you're sure he can see the color bloom on them and spread to your forehead. He's not the least bit interested in your nightgown that the boys commented on, instead keeping warm and rough hands on your shoulders protectively.

"Hold on a sec', who is this?" Jason has the need to be combative, especially after the flash of vulnerability he displayed. He gestures to you with the book. "Getting younger every year, aren't they, Bruce?" A wolfish grin spreads onto his lips, his canines glinting in the firelight and you frown at his rude implications, talking about you like you're not even there.

"She's my date for tonight." Bruce replies coolly, and you glance between them, puzzled over how he keeps such a level head around someone intent to get under his skin. You were alone five minutes with Jason and he'd managed to annoy you. Bruce somehow senses your unease, and meets your gaze, a soft glow in his eyes.

"Yeah, Bruce, I'm with Jason here. She looks younger than us." Dick has joined in on the conversation that apparently does not include you. "Are you sure that's the kind of statement you wanna make?"

"This conversation is over." A harder tone takes root within Bruce's voice as he commands, and you've had enough.

"Hello? Why are you all talking like I'm not here?" you demand, looking between their expressions of varying shock. "I'm the Ice Princess of Gotham, goddamnit, I won't be ignored!"

A snicker breaks out from Jason, who pats Dick's arm with the back of his hand. "Damn, the kindergartner's got a mouth on her." Dick does not engage in the banter, batting Jason's hand away with a scolding, "Jason."

"I'm tired of this!" you declare, and bunch up the blanket, rolling it up and tearing at it with your claws before throwing it to the ground. "I hope you have fun going to whatever-it-is by your-self, Bruce. I'm going to spend my time with people more civilized." you hiss, proudly sticking your nose in the air as you go to the exit.

"Tell 'em, baby! You go, girl!" Jason jeers after you, "A little more ass next time, that nightgown's too long."

Dick has the urge to shove Jason into the fire, but now that they're adults it's not as feasible as when they grew up around each other. "You're a piece of shit, you know that?" he tells him, but it's more or less tired.

Jason side-eyes him with a shrug. "I knew she couldn't handle it. I'm a tough pill to swallow, and a little princess like that needed some humbling."

"Who says? Jesus, Jason, you think everyone needs to be taken down a peg."

"So, Bruce, what were you celebrating tonight? Her sweet sixteen?" That grin stretches back onto Jason's countenance as he interrogates his former mentor. "Finally sick of pussy your age?"

"She was a distraction." Bruce answers, passing through the two boys. All of the polite inhibition from before is lowered, the playboy veil gone now that you've left the room. All that's left now is Batman, and he opens the window. Dick and Jason's eye follow his back as the cold night air hits them. "Penguin and Batman are at odds, and if Bruce Wayne is the center of controversy, the tabloids don't even notice the dealings of a vigilante." He watches you enter a cab in a huff, your longcoat thrown over your nightgown and heels, and drive off. He turns to Jason, and tips his head toward the open window. "I'm assuming this is how you got in, so out you go."

"This is the fourth story, Bruce."

"So you'll have no trouble."

927 notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 1 year

Text

Day sixteen 🎃 curroption

Pantalone x Barbara's brother male reader

Warnings: male reader, nsfw, smut, slight dubious consent, tough sex, blowjobs, facials, bottom male reader

Masterlist

(Name) hummed as he wandered the path, currently on a pilgrimage throughout the countries to give prayer to the gods and learn about the other lands beyond his own, dressed in winter clothes he was thankful he brought //imagine Barbara's outfit but fur lined and more masculine// as be looked through the endless winter before him.

Snezhnaya was not far off from what he was told but he found the cold almost delightful as the snow crunched beneath his shoes.

The young Deacon looked for a church or Cathedral of anything throughout the city when he noticed up high on a hill was a grand cathedral "thank goodness..."

"Excuse me?" A young girl dressed in fur lined clothes asked "who are you?" She asked curiously and (name) smiled warmly "I'm a Deacon of Mondstadt, I'm currently on a pilgrimage" he said with a kindness like no other, an emotional warmth radiating off him and giving a sense of safety.

"Really? That's so cool?" The girl said wide eyed and the two were unaware of Fatui guards taking notice of this and bringing the information of a Mondstadt Deacon in their city to Pantalone.

(Name) was in awe at the country and despite its unforgiving weather the people were kind to him, regarding him warmly as he made his way to the cathedral.

"Pardon me, are you the Deacon I heard of?" A deep elegant voice rang out, catching (name)s attention to the tall man with a false smile "hello! Yes, my (name) is (name)! A pleasure to meet you!" Pantalone noted be couldn't be older than 19, a bright and cheerful nature and radiating innocence and purity.

Pantalone wanted to own this adorable bunny.

"What brings you to our fair country little Deacon?" The spectacled man asked with false curiousity, trying to get information from the pretty boy who beamed and told him so honestly what he was doing "very noble of you, you must make those at home proud" Pantalone comments and (name) shook his head "I don't do this for the praise of others, I do it for the gods... They all deserve prayer and kindness..." He said genuinely and Pantalone was a greedy greedy man.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?"

Pantalone was selfish and greedy as he took in the others form as he watched (name) take off his coat to reveal how wonderful he was on the eyes.

"Thank you very much for inviting me! You have a beautiful home" (name) said genuinely and Pantalone imagined how wonderful he would look perched on his lap or spread in his bed dressed in barely anything or better yet nothing at all.

(Name) stared at him with his full attention, as if he were the the gods the Deacon prayed to.

"I must confess... I didn't ask you to join me to dinner for innocent reasons..." A false remorse making (name) look confused but let him continue "you see I was entranced by your beauty..."

He was entranced by his beauty, his innocence and would make an excellent lover to him.

"I must say... I find you quite handsome" (name) was flushed as he looked away, embarrassed at his confession only for the man to pull him closer "that's very sweet of you to say" Pantalone gently took his chin with his index and thumb "you're so beautiful..." He whispered before taking (name)s lips, pulling him into his lap fully and hands wasting no time touching "w-wait..." (Name) gasps, clinging and already debauched from a kiss "t-tgat was my first..."

"Kiss? Tell me... Have you ever bedded a man before?"

"I... I never..."

Pantalone grinned as he moved so (name) was under him and wasted no time recapturing his lips, determined to break his brain till he could only remember the feeling of his cock in him.

(Name) felt dizzy as be tried to keep up, covering himself when the other removed his shirt "don't cover yourself" Pantalone said pinning his arms above his head with one hand and continued his exploration, biting and sucking anywhere to get those sweet inexperienced moans from the others lips as his hand moved to rub the Deacons clothes cock, groping and playing with it before slipping under to fondle with the hardened cock, hot and leaking with pre-cum.

"Already close to cumming?" Pantalone teased "is my slutty little Deacon close?"

"I-I..."

"I-I" Pantalone mocked as he licked one of his nipples "come on bunny speak up"

"I don't... I-I don't know... Knot..."

"A knot? Where?"

"My stomach.."

"That means your slutty little cock is going to cum..." Pantalone said gripping his cock and jerking it off and watching the Deacon come undone "you ruined your pants..." Pantalone tisked as he stripped the beautiful man fully "such a wonderful body..." He breathed out as he took in the other.

mondstadt didn't deserve him.

"Wanna be a good boy?" Pantalone asked with a condicendingly sweet tone and (name) hazily nodded, unsure what he want but he wanted more...

"Then get on your knees infront of me"

(Name) moved so he was on his knees before the other, looking up at him so innocently "be a good boy and suck my cock nicely, get it ready"

(Name) wasn't fully sure what he was getting it ready for as the banker fished it from his expensive pants and gently smacked (name)s face with it "hop to little bunny" and watched (name) nervously take the cock in his hands, almost in awe at it's size as he pumped it a few times before tentatively putting it in his mouth.

"Good boy..." Pantalone said with a sigh as (name) sucked his cock like he was made to do so, he knew there was an eager slut underneath that Innocence...

(Name) didn't understand why he wanted to be such a good boy to the man whom he just met, never being touched like this before and found it additive.

(Name)s mouth was like a vacuum, the sweetheart giving it his all and Pantalone decided that he was going to put a ring on his pretty little finger, make him stay here forever.

Dress him in pretty clothes and break his pretty brain and form it into a dumb cum slut.

That sounded wonderful.

Pantalone gripped the back of his head as he slowly fucked his mouth with a low groan, feeling the others hands grip his thighs, loving the fact he was fully dressed compared to the Deacon being nude as it should be from now on.

(Name) looked so hazy and almost adoring as he bobbed his head, the taste and feeling addictive and the weight of it on his tongue was wonderful.

(Name) gasped as Pantalone forced his mouth off his cock, mouth open with a gasp as he came on his face, white ropes like a wedding veil and Pantalone felt himself harden again as (name) licked the cum almost hypontized as he did so "god you're such a little slut"

Pantalone could see (name) was almost in a headspace, the eager bunny just wanting to please his owner.

"Come here" Pantalone pat his lap and (name) crawled in it, their cocks touching "if you wish to continue I must tell you something" Pantalone said seriously and (name) nodded slowly "if you wish to have sex with me, you cannot leave my side again, I am a selfish greedy man and I refuse to let such a precious thing like you go"

"Was this not... You know... That?"

Even after sucking cock and getting jerked off the sweetheart still couldn't bring himself to say sex, god he was precious.

"Oh darling we barely begun~" Pantalone said groping his ass cheeks "would... I be able to visit my family...?" (Name) said holding back a moan "I could arrange it..." Pantalone said and (name) bit his lip "would we be... Lovers?"

"That's my intention" Pantalone took one of (name)s hands and kissed his knuckles, watching the Deacon swoon "please... Have uh... sex with me" he whispered the last bit as Pantalone grinned, watching as (name) sealed his fate forever.

(Name) yelped as Pantalone lifted him, cock hanging heavy as he walked through the halls of the grand mansion till they reached the master bedroom and the man placed (name) on the expensive sheets, mentally noting how perfect he was in the pattern.

Pantalone grinned as he grabbed an expensive bottle of oil, pouring it on his hands "this may be uncomfortable" Pantalone said leaning to kiss his thigh before spreading the others legs "oh my, aren't you flexible" Pantalone grinned before his oil covered fingers moved lower to prod at his entrance and gently pushed in, not wanting to hurt his bunny...well at least not like that.

(Name) whined at the foreign intrusion "shhh" Pantalone silenced the other as he began moving his finger and pumping in slowly, (name) head lulled as he let out soft moans and pants, mouth opening wide when the other added another finger and doing a combination of a skissor motion and a hithering motion, stretching and pleasuring his sweet lover.

His lover.

God Pantalone would spoil him to hell.

(Name)s hips spasmed a bit as Pantalone hit his prostate dead on "w-what...?"

"Seems I found your prostate, that's a spot inside you that's going to make you go insane" he smiled before adding a third finger and without warning began aggressively finger fucking the poor man and fingers beating against his prostate.

"Ohh~ I-I can't... To much~" (name) was shaking and crying as his toes curled and looked like a mess but god was he beautiful Pantalone noted silently, already fucked out and he hadn't even put his cock in yet.

God he loved how honest he was with his reactions.

(Name) was so close, he could feel the knot tighten again.

Then Pantalone retracted his fingers, grinning sadistically as (name) looked annoyed and confused "don't worry, the best part his coming"

Pantalone lubed his own cock before rubbing it at (name)s entrance before pushing his cock in "hn!" (Name) cried out as he clung to Pantalone "t-to much... Can't fit..." (Name) cried out and the black haired man kissed him "shhh it will fit don't worry" Pantalone soothed and (name) cried softly as the other bottomed out fully "you're doing so well, do you like my cock?"

"Big..."

Pantalone felt his ego rocket as he began slowly thrusting back and forth, caging (name) in his arms as the poor man clung to anything he could "ah ah!" (Name)s moans bounced with each thrust, the stretch and sensation of the head rubbing against his prostate to much as his eyes crossed a little, moans increasing in volume as Pantalone increased his movements and slowly began pistoning his hips, the sound of skin slapping and beautiful moans filling the room "I-I" (name) tried speaking but got cut off by his own moan as the two shared a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing as he fucked into (name), the Deacon cross eyed and swore he was going to become addicted to this newfound pleasure.

"I-its.. cumming!" (Name) let out a loud slutty moan as he came between them, cum staining both their chests but Pantalone kept going, chasing his own orgasm as (name) felt himself go crazy, overstimulated and body hot as the man pounded relentlessly, hands gripping his hips and no doubt leaving bruises.

"Mine..mine" he mumbled as he reached orgasm, poor (name) cumming again and passing out, completely fucked out.

"All mine..." Pantalone mumbled as he pulled out, watching cum leak from his pretty ass "and you're never leaving..."

#male reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #pantalone x male reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader

1K notes · View notes

unholyhelbig · 9 months

Note

the oversight part 5? i love that series!

Title: The Oversight [Part 5/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 7589

Warnings: Blood, guns, general violence, empty threats, angst, and horrible grammar.

[A/n: Listen, I straight up just finished watching 'The Iron Claw' and if you value your ability to hold it together, I suggest not seeing it. But also... go see it because it's phenomenal. Oh, and Happy Holidays!, like with most things, I regret my direction on this.]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Softly, you denied the small wooden bowl that was passed person to person, filled with numbers scribbled haplessly on strips of paper. There was a pit of guilt in your stomach for not bringing a white elephant gift- but as the honorary plus one of Darcy Lewis you succumbed to your fate. She’d drawn a middle grade number and sidled up next to you with her third vodka tonic.

You took a swallow of your own cranberry flavored drink, something that masked the sharp taste of alcohol. You were feeling fuzzy, but in the light way that would assure you’d get through the rest of party and the competitive game of gift swapping.

“Thanks for doing this,” Darcy said to you, nudging your shoulder “it was a little too fancy for my liking.”

She had stressed that she needed your presence to get through all the small talk about science. Darcy was an expert engineer but she could only go so far when it came to awkward co-workers murmuring amongst the twinkling Christmas lights and pre-paid meals. She got along well with most, but you could sense her anxiety well.

“Of course, you know I’d never turn down smoked salmon.”

Truthfully, it sounded a lot better than what your own work was planning. It took some quiet background checks and calling babysitting references, but you eventually conceded to a teenage girl that was certified in CPR and didn’t charge interest.

Your own holiday celebration at the Diner had been lackluster and consisted of much more alcohol. This was quiet and subdued, and a welcome break from the usual chaos that surrounded your life. You were more than happy to watch people tear paper from candles and blankets and ornaments.

“How much money do you want to put on Jimmy bringing some sort of magic kit?”

You hadn’t noticed the girl that hugged the side of the bar, waving down the bartender wordlessly. She was drinking something sweet and garnished with orange. She had a beautiful smile and the clearest eyes you had ever seen. Darcy smiled at her with familiarity and it eased you.

“I don’t bet on things I’m going to lose.” Darcy said with finality. “Y/n, this is Monica Rambeau.”

“It’s nice to meet you,”

Her grip was firm, and you squeezed her hand back with the same amount of pressure. Her smile widened at that before the bartender returned with a fresh drink garnished with another twirled orange peel. The two of you separated.

“So, Monica, what do you do?”

Something in science, the answer was obvious if she was at this holiday party. But she humored you all the same, turning her back to the counter and leaning close to you. There was pride in her answer, and it bloomed in her chest.

“I’m a mechanical engineer, specializing in astrophysics and astrobiology.”

“Don’t’ sell yourself short.” Darcy interjected with a watery laugh “She’s the head of our S.W.O.R.D division.”

Darcy had spoken about this before and the name rang familiar. Her company was looking at alternative fuel sources that could supply space exploration. All the while, they focused on vertical growing and bettering the community. From what you understood, this was a big deal. She was a big deal.

“Wow, that’s very impressive Ms. Rambeau”

Your voice was filled with genuine awe, but your conversation was cut short when the number sixteen was called out. Monica sheepishly pulled herself away from the bar and held her strip of paper up before approaching the table filled with wrapped gifts. She went for a medium-sized one adorned in reindeer.

“Oh wow!” She forced a smile, voice sweet like honey “A magic kit!”

The air in your room was stale and fought you as you pulled it into your lungs. You’d, at some point, kicked off your comforter and were splayed out on your sheets in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and an oversized shirt. Sweat hat soaked through both and the fabric clung to your skin.

On a blind instinct you grabbed at the gun under your nightstand, fastened by nothing more than duct tape. You could feel your heart in your throat and struggled to swallow it down again. You weren’t sure when this became second nature for you, something within the last two months of accompanying Natasha to the gun range for hours a time.

All the same, you held the tip of the weapon to the ground and rounded the corner of your bedroom into the dark hallway. You were unsettled from the dream you’d just had. The memory. Your subconscious had finally connected the woman who stood at Carol’s side. Her familiarity.

Monica Rambeau.

It was true, there was a stark coldness to her when you’d met at a Christmas party just the year before. It was only in passing and there were moments, like at the fair, when Darcy would mention her co-worker.

This changed things. Anxiety spiked haplessly, even as you diligently searched and cleared each room the way you had been taught. Keep your gun down, keep your eyes on the darkest corners of the room, ready to fire your weapon at any point. Especially if it was aimed at Natasha.

There was the slight movement of a shadow to your left and you quickly raised the gun, aiming it directly at the disturbance. Veronica stood on a chair in the kitchen, struggling to fill a glass with warm water, the only temperature that the faucet would allow.

You let out a quiet, mortified sigh before tucking the weapon into the waistband of your shorts. Your daughter blinked with wide eyes and that same guilty feeling flooded you at once, overtaking the anxiety.

“Baby,” You breathed, closing the distance between you and flicking on the overhead lights. You both flinched at their harshness but eventually blinked the shock away. “What are you doing up?”

You didn’t expect an answer, nor did you get one. Instead, you scooped her up under her arms and set her gently on the linoleum. There was water in the fridge, but she always had issues pouring it from the large jug. Ronnie was stubborn and shot you a frown at your intrusion.

“Don’t give me that look, kid.”

Her expression eased and you dumped the water down the drain before refilling the glass with something colder and more refreshing. Ronnie gulped it down eagerly, soaking the collar of her shirt with the liquid. She let out an appeased noise and wiped the rest of the water away from her mouth. She stood on her tip-toes and placed the glass in the sink.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh? Me either.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She blinked tiredly at you, your heart melting at the sight. It was easy to remember the words Natasha had trusted you with on the Ferris Wheel. Veronica would talk when she wanted to, but you had become quite good at reading her expressions and movements. Within the last month, you had stopped the long drives and the specialists. It eased you both.

“How about a sleepover?”

The exhaustion turned into joy and then combined within her look. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you scooped her up. She was getting too big for this, but you didn’t much care. You’d gotten stronger in the last few months and even if you hadn’t, you’d do the same.

With a show of dramatics you tossed her onto the bed and replaced the duvet that you’d flung off. Carefully, as Ronnie’s stare averted, you placed the gun in the drawer next to your bed. The last thing you did was prop the window open, letting out the flat air and letting in the sound of the city.

Ronnie was pulled flush against your chest in a matter of moments, though you had suddenly lost all exhaustion. You listened to the sirens, to the calls of people just ending their nights. If you listened hard enough, you could hear the horns of the boats that settled into the harbor.

“I love you so much.” You whispered into the small of her neck, “One day I’m going to get us out of here.”

Veronica didn’t respond, but the squeeze her little hand gave yours was all the reassurance that you needed.

Clint swallowed down steaming black coffee without blowing on it to cool it down. The nutty scent filled the cab of the car and warmed your nerves. He drank like your daughter did, but with the purpose of waking himself up before the sun. You never did get back to sleep and were wired enough to refuse the cup he offered you this morning.

He’d knocked on your door as the orange sun moved over the horizon. You were to accompany him to the docks to check on business. This somehow seemed less intimidating than the dinner you’d attended with Natasha.

“It’ll be easy. We have a chokehold on the harbor, we just have to check with a few of the vendors to collect their dock rent and call it a day. Everything else is done under the table. People aren’t too happy because at the end of the day, we’re the ones that take money from them. But it’s a necessary evil.”

You nodded and watched as the city went by. It was peaceful, quiet. There had been a single foster home that you stayed in that had a view of the entire skyline. You were too far away to see the bustling people and the everyday chaos that accompanied it.

There were, of course, moments of calm when you would work the early morning shift at the diner. But that would always shatter by the time you made the two minute walk from your apartment to the back door that was choked with the scent of garbage and cheap cigarettes.

“We have some invitations to hand out too. In the glovebox.”

You furrowed your brow and popped it open. His weapon (or his second, or third) sat upon a stack of manilla cards with elegant writing on them that had to be done by hand. You inspected them but didn’t’ dare separate the paper.

“What are these for?”

“Nat throws a party for her benefactors every single year. It’s real fancy, a suit and tie thing. Her renters are invited too and if they have the balls to show up, they always have a good time. She makes sure of it.”

“We’re expected to attend?”

He nodded, “It’s a requirement, really. As Natasha’s right hand. You go where she goes and once your probationary period is over, you’ll be on her like glue. Though, I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”

You frowned at his statement, his insinuation. Sure, you had gotten close to Natasha, had even grown to like her. She had a way of getting under your skin until it felt like she lived in it. Otherwise, you would have cut your losses long ago and let her slit your throat the first moment she met you.

There was a feeling of devotion that you felt the need to uphold. She had spared your life, after all. You’d spent the last two and a half months with her guiding you, teaching you how to obey her every word. Without fault, you would. Clint knew it, Kate and Yelena knew it. You knew it.

Instead of admitting it, you frowned and slumped further in your seat, struggling to ignore Clint’s own shit-eating expression. By the time he pulled to a stop, it had started to drizzle enough for him to flick his wipers on. The sound of them scraping against the window filled the silence.

You took careful attention to stay quiet and observe. Your gun was strapped carefully to your side and the invitations rested in your side pocket. You didn’t dare get them wet and let the ink run in a soupy mess. It had been years since you’d been out here and part of you was unsteady on the aged and slick wood.

“Sam is a cool guy. His family has hold on a good portion of the harbor. He likes to joke, so don’t pay him any mind.” Clint jabbed you with his elbow. “And loosen up a little bit, would you?”

You glowered at him and rubbed the stiff spot on your ribs but felt your shoulders lower a bit. There was a lot of weight behind this, that had been made clear to you the second you were inducted into this system.

Instead of heading directly down the long stretches of worn dock, Clint took a turn just before the asphalt ended. A small structure that looked less weathered than the rest of your surroundings rested at the lots end. The windows were thick enough to withstand the watery winds.

Clint stilled his large hand shooting out across your chest. It took you a few seconds to clock the shattered glass on the front door. Small smears of crimson pocked the shards that remained. Much like the evening before, you drew your gun on instinct, and Clint did the same.

He didn’t take care to hide your presence. Instead, he took the brunt of his large boot and cracked through the doorframe with the force of one kick. Wood splintered, raining down on linoleum and a desk that was easily from the 70’s.

You could smell the blood before you saw it, nearly sliding on the flooring. You caught yourself before that happened, heart pounding in your ears. “Fuck!”

“Jesus Christ,” Clint mirrored your sentiments.

Whoever had been here was long gone, but they’d left quite the mess. They’d torn through the filing cabinets, leaving legal papers and folders scattered against the desk and the expanse of cabin space.

You tracked the source of the pooling blood with little difficulty. A man- one that you had rightly never seen before- was laying on his back, facing the ceiling. From edge to edge of his throat was a long cut leaking an ugly red color. His stare was frosty, soaked into his sweatshirt.

It was like a car crash, something that you struggled to avert your eyes from until Clint physically grasped your chin and turned your attention to him. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, yes. Good.” You answered cooly, swallowing whatever dryness was in your throat. “Who would do something like this?”

“Carol… one of her lackeys. This is an eye for an eye thing.”

Even if it was an act of revenge, this was extensive. It sent a clear message even if you didn’t’ exactly know all the specifics of the feud. Of course, you’d seen Yelena at work and even that was mild compared to the brutality of this.

The thought of Monica, if it even had been her, completing a task as unfeeling as this filled your veins with ice. You felt your nails dig into your palms, soft and stinging. There was a surge of anger, and sadness that mixed into resolution. Natasha was right to despise the Danver’s family. Any family that treated the world with this much cruelty.

Natasha was in the gym on the second floor. Large windows overlooked the backyard, and a prolonged view of the harbor. There were blue mats adorning the floor, and a few wracks meant for weightlifting.

You had never seen this part of the house before. Usually the weather permitted sparring outside, but the late summer rain had made that impossible. Sheets of water obscured your usual view, though, it wasn’t exactly trained on the windows.

Natasha had her back facing you, her breathing timed evenly with each punch she threw at an 80-pound bag filled with sand. She wore tight-fitting shorts and a sports bra that left little to the imagination. Not that you had imagined her in that situation before.

Her muscles tightened and relaxed with each movement. They were scarred in a deep orchid pink, long ago healed. At one point, she was lashed. You recognized the damage done by a leather belt and shivered at the memory of it.

Natasha was fit, she was coated in a layer of sweat that dripped across her strength. You had to be clear minded for this and the state of her wasn’t making it easy on you. Her knuckles were wrapped, and she would grunt with each thrust of her fist. For just a moment, you wished you were under her mercy instead of the punching bag.

That broke when she panted against the bag, stopping its swinging with a firm grasp on either side. “Are you just going to stand there and watch?”

Natasha had focused her green eyes on you through the reflection of the window. Of course, you hadn’t intended to gawk as long as you had. But you were leaning against the doorframe of the gym, practically drooling. You had forgotten yourself and you wouldn’t’ put it past Natasha to notice.

She turned to you, a wolfish smile on her face. “Take your jacket off. Holster too.”

You struggled to ignore the haughty expression on her face when you did exactly what she said without question, almost too eagerly, depositing them on the edge of the mat. You pushed your shoes off too, knowing not to track mud on any of Natasha’s carpets.

Her eyebrow lifted at the action. She’d moved closer during your actions, and you’d nearly run into her before noticing. Her presence was intoxicating. All-consuming.

“You’re here to tell me something,” She proclaimed “you’ve got that adorable look on your face. It’s good to know someone in this house still fears me.”

She was joking and it tugged at your heart to send that mood down to the ground before lighting it on fire. You’d expected her to be in poorer spirits after Clint had called her and let her know what had happened at the harbor. Instead, she responded in her same calculated coolness that she regarded you with now.

There was nothing about her demeanor that eased you, and suddenly, it felt like you were being scolded for a decision you had made. Even more so when she grasped your chin and forced you to look at her.

“That woman with Carol from the other night. I know her. Briefly.”

“Briefly?”

“As in, I met her at a Christmas party a few years back and… left with her.”

Natasha’s grip tightened against your chin, her thumb digging into your jaw. There was too much alcohol flowing that night and after making stinted conversation about how to disconnect two metal rings smoothly, the two of you went back to her apartment.

Before the sun came up, you left. There was shame in it, and the walk back to your own apartment punctuated with Darcy’s scolding was enough to make you forget the encounter altogether. It was one night- a fun night, but singular all the same.

Natasha let out a small noise of disapproval that sunk straight to your core. “Is that so?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Does she remember you?”

“It… didn’t seem like it.”

Her eyes narrowed, nose a short distance from your own. You could feel the hotness of her breath against your throat. How you had disappointed her. That much was clear from the lack of tenderness in her grasp. She eventually released you, trailing her fingers down the expanse of your neck.

She played with the small charm of your necklace, nothing more than a dainty gold chain with the tiniest whisper of a diamond in the center. Your skin prickled at the sensation, breath audibly catching as she worked her fingers over the length of chain.

“Well, I suppose this could be a problem. Especially with Carols violent behavior lately.”

Natasha sighed dramatically, and within an instant her nimble hand had tightened around your throat. She walked you the three steps backwards to the nearest wall. The small of your back landed with a heady thud and you used the last of your available breath to grunt out in protest.

Of course, you had seen her angry before, but it was never directed at you. Not like this. She wasn’t squeezing tight enough to injure you, not really. But the shock of the movement had made you think she would end you all the same.

“You should have come to me right away, pet.” Her grasp tightened; words growled. “And here I thought you were such a good, obedient, girl.”

Her words filled you with an immense shame for letting her down. Over the past few months, it had become impossible to be anything but perfect for Natasha Romanoff. The fact that you hadn’t connected the dots sooner was disillusioning.

The grip against your throat loosened ever so slightly as she leaned closer, her lips nearly ghosting your own. You could barely taste her, a strangled whimper escaping you. She pressed her body close. It was warm and overwhelming.

“I expect you to handle this on your own if it becomes a problem, darling.”

Before you could close the distance, Natasha pulled away from you entirely. It left you panting against the wall, wanting for something more. She knew exactly what she was doing. You craved her more than anything, and she had brought you so close to something you both wanted before denying it altogether.

Natasha sauntered, actually sauntered, across the gym and grabbed a towel from a nearby bench. She regarded you with flushed cheeks, her eyebrow raised as if nothing had just happened and you supposed that nothing did.

“Clint has told you about the party?” It took a few seconds before you found your voice, after her gentle urgings “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes ma’am. He did.”

She reached for a water bottle, exchanging it’s spot on the bench for the towel. She takes three hungry swallows, and you watched the way her throat moved in response to the water. Each of her movements seemed deliberate, nearly calculated to get a reaction out of you.

“Perfect. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours about what to wear. I’ll lay a dress out in your room.”

“My room?” Your words were squeaked.

There was a short hum in response as she gulped down another helping of water before setting it down entirely. That anger had ebbed away from her almost entirely. The fire that had been within her eyes excited you, and despite yourself, so did her demands.

“You’re so skittish. Come here. We need to work on your lead hook.”

Natasha didn’t offer to wrap your knuckles, nor did you ask. Instead, you leaned into the bag, letting the course material cut into your knuckles with a welcoming sting.

There was great thought put into any Romanoff party that was thrown. Lights were wrapped around the banister, and caterers walked through the teems of people with unwavering silver trays of finger food that cost more than your old salary for a number of months.

Back storm doors were opened to the pool, lit up and buzzing with an equal amount of people. Natasha had hired a piano player who haplessly pressed down on keys and drew a small crowd with each song that would crescendo into the dining room.

The overlapping theme was a dark forest green that reminded you much of the paint color slathered on Natasha’s bedroom walls. Something you hadn’t seen in months, but remembered so fondly. It was clear that she wanted to present a united force, something strong and unwavering in their power.

Clint was dawned with a finely pressed suit and a deep green tie that matched the shade of Kate’s dress to the very hue. She wore something silk and modest, reaching down to her heeled feet but leaving her muscular arms entirely bare.

Yelena stunned in a dress of her own, a crushed sage velvet that had a dipping neckline and sleeves that met at her wrist. By the confidence of her stride, you had no trouble believing she had chosen the outfit with the thought of how many weapons she could conceal. Her devilish smile only confirmed your thoughts.

As of you, Natasha had picked out something a little more revealing. Much like the maroon number she wore to dinner the other night, the dress she chose for you hugged every inch of your body. Its fern color complimented your complexion, bringing out the redness of your cheeks.

A slit moved from the base of your dress to the middle of your thigh. A halter neckline clung to your breasts, nearly pushing them up and out. It had been years, high school prom, since you’d worn something even close to this. You felt your shoulders flush red when you descended the stairs and struggled to blend in.

Natasha was sidled up by the mantel in deep conversation with someone who was a stranger to you. Most of the people here were. Though, their hands gave way to their high-ranking positions in the city. Few had callouses or oil stains.

She was in a three-piece suit that was color matched to your own outfit down to the shade. There were gold accents on her jewelry and the neckline of her waistcoat dipped down the tanned expanse of her skin.

Kate let out a low whistle in response to your entrance as she offered you a hand at the base of the stairs. You’d almost missed the last one due to your shameless gawking at the woman of the party. “Quite the looker, y/n. Natasha chose this?”

“Naturally,”

She chuckled softly, a small sound “Nothing if not calculating. Do you know how to socialize at one of these things?”

“Mm, as the caterer, yes.”

This seemed to amuse her more than you’d like. Katherine Elizabeth Bishop was a name that you had reluctantly googled early on in your employment. She had grown up wealthy and well acquainted with gatherings such as these. Of course, that was before her mother wound up incarcerated for white-collar crimes. The skills seemed to benefit her here, however.

Kate did everything with practiced fluidity that you envied. She plucked two champagne glasses from a nearby tray. “Only one of these, nurse it like your life depends on it. That way they won’t keep trying to shove alcohol into your hands. This is work, after all.”

You followed her lead and took a small sip of the bubbling, sour liquid. It was more expensive than anything you had ever had before and far-from-palatable. It wouldn’t be had to keep the drinking at bay.

“The man that Yelena is schmoozing over there is Billy Russo. Jigsaw. He’s in charge of the lower quarter. The Romanoff’s and the Russo’s have a cordial relationship and Yelena is much more feared than him.”

“Why do they call him jigsaw?” You whispered.

“He tends to chop people into pieces until they’re impossible to put back together. And that’s if you find all the missing parts. He has a very nice summer home up in the Poconos, so don’t get on his bad side.”

Suddenly the drink in your hand didn’t look too bad, but you held it right where it was. Clint was laughing by the window, obviously pushing his charm on a woman that you had never clocked before. She was running her fingers up his tie, tightening it before letting her hands drop.

“Barton is with Ophelia Sarkissian, the Viper. She is known for her cunning leadership. She’s got a huge organization in Hell’s Kitchen. Something called Hydra. I wouldn’t worry too much about it though because Natasha is keeping a tight eye on it.”

“Mm, cut one head off, two more grow back.”

“What?”

“Greek mythology. Hydra is a big water snake that has nine heads. Each time one was cut off two more would grow back in its place. It was practically unkillable until Hercules came through the marshes with his nephew. Hercules would slice each head off while Iolaus cauterized the wounds so the heads couldn’t grow back.”

Kate blinked at you with shock in her eyes. You simply gave her a shrug in return. People constantly underestimated you and your intelligence. Besides, when you were a child, you had a morbid fascination with Greek mythology as a whole.

She stared beyond your shoulder, lilting her head to the side.

“I didn’t realize that Natasha’s new plaything was so knowledgeable.”

Ice ran thorough your veins. Your eyes darted to the window where Clint and Mrs. Sarkissian had once been. It was vacant now, and an expertly painted hand drummed past your arm. They were sharp and sent chills down your spine as she rounded you, sidling up next to Kate.

“Trust fund kid, leave us.”

Kate drew in a sharp breath, straightening her shoulders. She nearly opened her mouth to stay something but thought better of it before shooting you a look of apology and vanishing into the crowd in the dining room.

Ophelia was intoxicating in her presence. She towered over you and wore snakeskin heels to widen the distance. She wore a tight-fitted black dress that had cuts on either side, exposing her toned stomach to the world. What she wanted with you wasn’t clear, but her hand toyed coyly with the neckline of your own dress, adjusting it.

“Word travels fast in this city. I just couldn’t wait to see it myself. Hearing that Natasha Romanoff of all people expelled her Winter soldier for a… Summer Sentient. All seasons are temporary, I suppose.”

“Expelled?”

The word had slipped from your tongue, and you quickly thought better of it when she settled her splayed hand against your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. It was cold, unfeeling. Unlike the fire that Natasha had instilled in you earlier.

There was a demonic smile that spread across her face, both of her eyebrows lifting as she let out an exaggerated grasp. It was clear that this woman, this leader, couldn’t keep her hands to herself in any manner, including the internal affairs that she dangled in front of you like a prize.

“Oh, did Natty not tell you? She had Bucky under her thumb for years, nearly a decade. A few months back, he was just gone. There’s a lot of gossip in these streets and not much of it is plausible, but I’d put money on this one.”

Again, her fingers danced over your collarbone. “Miss Romanoff is not known for her mercy, but after beating the Winter Soldier within an inch of his life, she let him go. He ran like any sensible man would, of course. But he left a trail of blood behind him. I’m quite sure he’s somewhere out west struggling to move in an upper body brace.”

She laughed cruelly at the look on your face. There was no use in masking it. You knew that Bucky had been absent, but through your own turmoil you had forgotten all about it. Your stomach twisted in unease. What if Natasha grew tired of you? It was inevitable, really. You’ only prolonged your fate by bending to her whim.

“Ophelia,” Natasha’s voice drew your attention first, and then the heat of her touch on the small of your back. “Have you tried the lamb?”

The woman faltered, gritting her teeth “I was about to.”

“Oh, you must.” Yelena seemed to materialize out of nowhere, looping her arm around Madame Hydra herself. She pulled with intent. “I haven’t seen you since Moscow. We need to catch up!”

“I was never in Moscow.”

“That’s a shame. I can paint you a brilliant picture.”

Their voices faded away into the rest of the party. It was then that you noticed Clint by the door, his stance stiffened. Kate glowered next to him, not following her own rule and downing the rest of her drink before plucking another off the passing tray.

You stepped out of Natasha’s grasp, not wanting to be anywhere near her at the moment. Her perfume was intoxicating. Its floral scent made you dizzy and took away your ability to think straight. It was part of the reason you had been lulled this far into complicity. It scared you that you were willing to do anything for her.

“y/n,” she urged.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Natasha’s stare hardened. She gripped the back of your neck in a movement that would otherwise be familiar, sweet, even. However, the way she led you down the hallway made your stomach drop in a feeling of doom. “Not here, Malen'kiy krolik.”

Natasha’s office was strictly off limits, but you found yourself in the warmth of it in a matter of moments. There was no wall that wasn’t adorned with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and a large cherrywood desk was at its head. It was kept neat like the rest of the house.

There was a PHD on the wall, and an associates under that. Each bore Natasha’s name. She closed the doors behind her. Without regarding you, she went to a shelf in the back of the room, pouring herself a glass of bourbon, much like the one she was drinking when you stirred in her bed.

She swallowed it back, before pouring another. This time she sipped it. Your own back was against the far wall, heart pounding mercilessly through you. Yelling at Natasha had a lot more weight behind it than you anticipated.

“You’re going to do the same to me.” You eventually whispered.

Her body stiffened, muscles tightening and then releasing before she turned to you, her eyes reddened. “What?”

“I’ve been entirely blind to my purpose here. I’ve never… I’ve never understood why you chose me. Why not go for someone who knows what they were doing? Who knew how to protect you and care for you? You had that with Bucky.”

Her eyes hardened. “Don’t you ever mention that name in this house.”

“It’s the truth, Natasha! You could have let me die, just like that, and you didn’t. Instead, you took me in and trained me, and for what? Just to throw me into the harbor with cement blocks chained to my ankles.”

“That is an entirely outdated practice and frankly, it’s insulting.” Her words were soul deep, but they barely broke your skin. “I would never do that.”

“A bullet through the head, then?”

“No.”

You were gaining traction enough to pull yourself from the wall and take heady steps towards her. If you didn’t do it now, you would never. Part of you was certain that you’d never see the outside of this room again. That she’d snap and do exactly what you were imploring her to.

“He served you for years and within a singular night you nearly kill him.” Your breath shook, you were so close to her now. “What is stopping you from doing the exact same to me?”

“No, no” She reached up and grasped both sides of your face. There were tears against your cheeks, something you hadn’t realized dripped from your chin. “Malyshka, no don’t cry.”

Everything had come to a head; the months of non-stop training, the pressure of keeping this side of your life away from your daughter, away from Darcy. A true friend that you had been lying to. And now, knowing that it could be all for nothing. It was easy to dispose of someone like you.

There was no reason to show weakness in front of the woman who was training you not to feel anything at all. Above everything, you found yourself ashamed. She still held your face within her grasp.

“He hurt you.” Her jaw clenched and unclenched, there was a fuzzy vulnerability in her green stare. “I can show mercy, y/n. But I’ve learned, not when it comes to you. Even before all of… this, there was something that I saw within you. Something that made what I did to Bucky all the more worth it.”

You breathed in a watery sniffing sound that was replaced by nothing but a whimper. Natasha softened even more, letting her shoulders fall. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“He was pulling back for months, and you were the final straw. I had never seen someone so resilient, someone who didn’t beg for their life but recounted it. In a moment of weakness, I let you go. I thought that training you, that making you mine, would absolve my sins but it’s only deepened them. My feelings for you have only deepened.”

Her forehead was pressed against yours, her ministrations, and God help you, her apologies were startling. Her lips were so close to yours; you could nearly taste the liquor on her breath “Natasha,”

Suddenly, she was all you could feel. Her hand was against you back, pulling you into her body to fit directly on hers. There was such a strong guiding power to her. Your shock was muffled by her mouth on yours, your whine swallowed in moments.

You melted into her, kissing back with enough fever to leave you both breathless. There were stars dancing in your vision, you lungs burning eventually pulling you both apart. She panted twice before pecking your lips once more, you nearly chased after her.

“Fuck,” she growled “you… are absolutely delicious.”

Your cheeks suddenly heated up and you hid your face in the small of her neck, letting out a small groan in embarrassment. You felt Natasha’s laugh rumble through her.

“No need to be timid, pet. There will be plenty of time for that later.” She raked her nails up your back, “Right now, I have a snake to behead.”

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#Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff #Natasha romanov #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Marvel #Marvel Au #Mafia au #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Clint Barton #bucky barnes

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sugurouge · 2 months

Text

— s t i n g : alpha!miya atsumu x omega!f!reader

summary: in a society divided by secondary genders, a young girl is adopted into the prestigious miya family, defying conventions due to her undeniable charm & precious nature. as you grow up, your bond with atsumu shifts, leading to a complex mix of emotions & forbidden desires

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, taboo topics, non-canon obv, (pseudo-)incest, stepcest, omegaverse, heavy topics of jealousy, possessiveness, dubcon marking, begging, very submissive reader, cheating, breeding kink, dubcon knotting, obsession, some blood.

wordcount: 4.6k

fyi: atsumu & reader were pretty much attracted to another since her secondary gender was revealed. reader is one year younger than the twins

a/n: for @goxjo's omegaverse collab! make sure to check out the other works if you've enjoyed my lil story. pspsps thank you for letting me join, aki my luv (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.

In a society where the hierarchies of alphas, betas, and omegas define social standing and family legacy, adoption is a rarity. Families fiercely guard their bloodlines, refusing to weaken their position with the introduction of an outsider. Yet, in the case of the Miya family, exceptions were made when they saw you. Abandoning a helpless young girl you was never an for your future mother. You were too precious to be left behind.

From the moment your adoptive parents met you, it felt like a blessing. Your sparkling eyes and adorable smile captivated them in an instant. You, in all your little glory, were a true delight.

Neither you nor your new family can recall a time before you became part of their lives. The notion of your adoption was never mentioned, for it didn't matter. To you, they were simply your family, your pack. The protective embrace of the Miya family, renowned alphas, became your sanctuary. Under their care, the eventual reveal of your secondary gender was irrelevant. What mattered was the bond, the love, and the undeniable connection that tied you all together.

To your older brothers, you were their cherished little sister—sweet, gentle, and always eager to bridge the gap between them. You strived to ease their conflicts and show your love for each one of them, appreciating their unique qualities and talents equally.

Yes, you had no favourite. You loved them equally, and they both loved you in return, as their family. Until one didn't. Until something changed.

Suddenly, one of them seemed bothered by your mere presence. Always leaving the second you entered the same room, averting his gaze if your eyes were to ever meet, and ignoring your entire being at school.

This intoxicating, honey-like vapour with hints of candied oranges radiates out for metres around, drenching the halls of Inarizaki High and leaving Atsumu drunk on you.

He can't think straight, can’t focus on sports or academics. You’re the unofficial reason girls are now banned from volleyball practice. Even worse, you’re practically banned from his life. The shift from affectionate brother to distanced meanie was too sudden for you to not feel hurt. So much for your sweet sixteen…

You practically ruined him overnight, your secondary gender holding effects unexpected to it. Now, instead of grabbing ice cream as a group of three, it's you alone. Unless Osamu can join, but even that seems to annoy the faux-blond. He seems irritated by everything you do or do not do. You’re lucky if he walks off without saying a word, as every time Atsumu loses control over his emotions you end up crying in your mother’s embrace. He locks himself in his room and tries to rid himself of the nasty thoughts and feelings he holds inside.

But then there are moments...

Moments when he turns soft, when you meet at night by accident in the kitchen and he’s too drowsy to control his instincts. Suddenly, gentle eyes can't seem to look at anything but you. Suddenly, the smallest space between you seems unbearable to Atsumu.

And you let him. You’re no better.

You embrace him, gently running your fingers through his hair, and hum softly—your tender care is utterly captivating. How could his hands not grasp the fabric of your shirt, his arms tightening around you to hold you close, as the warmth between you rises and your hearts beat in unison?

Yet, it all fades at the break of dawn. Only a faint blend of your scents lingers—reminiscent of breakfast, with comforting notes of cinnamon and sugar.

It’s as if the scene abruptly shifts, like a sudden cut in a film. The atmosphere returns to its former state, and you find yourself once again only conversing with Osamu.

◈

Until you turn 18.

Until your first heat starts. Your nest made of anything you could grab in time, stealing blankets, pillows, an accidental hoodie of Atsumu.Something about it seemed so awfully comforting, you couldn’t refuse.

At night, you weep with your face buried in the fabrics, trying to muffle the sounds of your distress while immersing yourself in the rich aroma of cinnamon and spice. You’re burning from the inside, the need to rip your skin from your bones is almost unbearable. Your feverish state leaves you crying under the moonlight's embrace, a trembling plea of desperate longing echoes throughout the night. You crave, you need, more.

But what about your brothers? While they were both forced to wear earbuds and use scent blockers, one suffered just as much as you. Instincts, after all, cannot be completely suppressed.

Atsumu groans, his head sinking into the pillows of his bed as his eyes flutter shut.. God, he loathes this. Loathes having to run his own hands over his physique to remove his shirt. He would much rather feel your soft fingertips dip beneath the fabric and explore his heated torso. Every passing second more agonising than the one before. His only refuge is the enveloping darkness as he presses his eyes shut, desperate to escape the burning torment he's sinking into. He can hear you through the walls, your whines and moans of pain piercing through his solitude.

He really needs to move out.

◈

Your parents welcome you into adulthood, finally granting you the freedom to seek out your life partner, your mate. Yet, your brother won’t even give you the chance to explore this new chapter.

No, after that night, everything changes. He’s unnervingly close, pressing himself against your back, shamelessly inhaling your scent, burying his face in the nape of your neck. He decks you in compliments and constant touches.

Suddenly, he's everywhere around you, determined to keep anyone else at a distance instead. He insists you wear his jackets to school, wrapping you in his scent and effectively isolating you from the world. His overprotective behaviour is so extreme that even your parents are baffled by Atsumu’s mood swings. His intentions unclear as they all believe in the family bond you all have built over the years.

And you never voice a word of complaint. You would never even dream of challenging Atsumu’s behaviour. In fact, you seem to revel in it.

Despite Osamu’s growing suspicions and the concern it stirs in your parents, their advice falls on deaf ears. Both of you refuse their suggestion: after all, he’s your brother! You feel secure with him close by and aren’t ready to meet your alpha yet. So, your parents can only observe from the sidelines, hoping and praying it’s smooth sailing until the twins move out.

Until the nest is empty.

◈

What they don’t know is how your older brother projects the echoes of your cries and whimpers during your nights in heat onto his fleeting encounters. At 26, he remains resolutely single, every blind date a disappointment, every hookup unsatisfying and hollow. The desire he feels for you overshadows every attempt at connection, leaving him unfulfilled and unwilling to commit.

Everything seems colourless, flavourless-until family calls.

◈

You’ve moved abroad for your studies, seeking to put distance between you and Atsumu, desperate to suppress the sick thoughts and desires that have plagued your mind. You hoped that a change of scenery, far from Japan, would help you start fresh, to find your alpha and live a life untainted by these unsettling feelings.

Yet, returning home for Osamu’s engagement presents an unexpected challenge. The stage is set: the occasion is beautiful, with halls adorned in flowers and sweets to celebrate the festivities. But amidst the elegant decorations, nothing captivates quite like you. Your presence is intoxicating to Atsumu, who can hardly contain himself. Forgive him for losing his composure. Don’t mind the intense stares from across the room, the desire pooling in his dark eyes that burns into your back. Promises made to his brother were forgotten the second he got a glimpse of you.

Suddenly, the suit feels too tight, the necktie suffocating, and his palms dry. Here you are. You, in a stunning dress that accentuates every curve. You radiate a glowing allure that confirms—you're at your prime, ripe for the taking.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, the heat of his body searing through the fabric of your dress. Without needing to turn, you already know who it is; his name escapes your glossed lips. “Atsumu.”

He pulls you close, his presence enveloping you, his voice soft and sheepish against your ear. “I’ve missed ya,” he confesses, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You’ve missed him too, of course. Yet you tried to replace him with someone morally acceptable—a volleyball player from New York, who bore a slight resemblance to your brother. But could he ever truly fill the void left by Atsumu?

The sweet mixture of scents turns sour before you can even reply to Atsumu, before you can admit how much you’ve missed him as well. His fingertips explore your neck, lingering on your scent gland, fainted dents still feasible for his touch. The pressure borders on painful, as he demands an answer with a dangerous edge: “Who?”

If looks could kill, you’d be a dead woman. Your anxious scent mingles with his anger, creating an intense atmosphere that seems to draw everyone’s attention. The events unfold faster than your family can react. You feel the sting of his nails digging into your skin, jealousy manifesting as sharp pain as blood threatens to stain your dress.

Osamu, ever the protector, shields you from Atsumu’s anger, ensuring to guide you out of the halls in a rush. “I apologise for what he did,” the dark-haired twin mumbles, as he patches you up. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this, I promise.” He meets your eyes with a searching look. “He swore to keep his distance. And I thought you’d bring your boyfriend.”

You finally admit in defeat, “He couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to pressure him either—it’s too soon for him to fly over ten hours just to meet my…” You hesitate, casting a glance around the room as a deep sigh escapes you, “…family.”

Osamu nods, understanding. He returns to kneeling in front you, his expression filled with concern. “I hoped that after all these years, Atsumu would have cooled off.”

You cut him off, feeling an odd need to defend the blond. “He never did anything wrong,” you insist, trying to convince both Osamu and yourself as your gaze falters. “I’m just as much to blame as he is.” With this declaration, you rise and offer Osamu your hand, helping him back to his soon-to-be wife and the rest of the guests.

Nothing could have prepared you for the smell—the overpowering stench that no flowers could mask. Atsumu sits at the table, his eyes unfocused as your father speaks to him, the words a blur as his lips move too fast for you to catch. You only learn the outcome of the conversation when your mother asks you to approach your oldest brother.

Standing beside him now feels different, a new layer of fear creeping into your emotions—something you never anticipated feeling from him. “I’m sorry,” Atsumu finally breaks the heavy silence, straightening up to face you while avoiding your eyes. “I guess my protective instincts went a bit overboard after… all these years.” He clears his throat, cringing slightly at his own words.

With all eyes on you, you can only hum in agreement before you’re guided to sit beside Atsumu. The effort to mask the sour scent of his anger and soothe him only possible with you being closeby. You have to forget about your own feelings for the day; after all, the event is meant for enjoyment and celebration. Every smile you force, every laugh you share feels tainted with an aftertaste of discomfort, yet you try to maintain a semblance of normalcy, for Osamu.

But the close proximity—shoulders brushing, hands fleetingly touching, eyes meeting—heightens the tension between you. Your heart races uncontrollably, and shivers travel down your spine, each sensation a reminder of the internal struggle between your morals and instincts.

Atsumu, everso selfless, extended an offer for you to stay at his apartment. It was a gesture of goodwill, though it now feels like an unexpected complication. No one anticipated his behaviour would spiral this much, especially after the plans had been made. Your parents, trusting their children, hoped that Atsumu would have matured enough and that staying at his place would be more comfortable for you. They assumed you were busy enough with your studies and the hassle of flying back home to Japan that they simply decided for you weeks ago.

But as the door to Atsumu’s apartment clicks shut, the reality of the situation settles in. The safety of this space, the sanctuary you hoped for, now feels like a fighting ring where the unresolved tension might only grow.

Atsumu carefully guides you to your room, setting down your luggage, while repeating the same sentence over and over in his head: “Let her in and leave, lock your door, go to sleep.” Yet, as he turns to face you, his presence looms over you like a storm, his hands grazing your neck with a possessive, almost reverent touch, as his eyes lock onto yours.

“Who?” he asks again, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that sends shivers down your spine.

The blockers you’ve relied on falter under the overwhelming force of his scent, a potent mix of spice and raw desire that fills the room and stirs something deep and primal within you. You try to form a coherent response, try to remember the name of your partner, but your mind is consumed by the intoxicating presence of Atsumu. Each breath you take is thick with his scent, and you find yourself struggling to maintain a shred of rational thought.

Your attempt to explain dissolves into a stuttering mess, and all you can manage is a pathetic, “Not you.” The words escape your lips as a weak, desperate whimper, and Atsumu’s reaction is immediate and intense. A guttural groan of frustration erupts from him as he seizes your hips, pulling you roughly against his chest. His powerful arms encircle you, creating a cocoon of warmth that feels both incredibly comforting and alarmingly suffocating.

You can’t deny the wave of relief that washes over you as his scent engulfs you, blending with your own and heightening the undeniable ache between your legs. The slickness pooling in your panties is a blatant testament to your arousal, and Atsumu’s keen senses pick up on it immediately. His fingers dig into your body with a possessive urgency that makes your head spin.

A mental war rages within you: the clear, rational part of your mind screams that this is wrong, that your relationship with Atsumu is taboo and fraught with complications. But it’s overpowered by a darker, primal greed that drives you to clutch at him with a fervent need. You can’t ignore the way your body responds to his touch, the way every fibre of your being craves him despite the guilt and confusion clouding your thoughts.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips brush against his neck. A desperate plea slips from your lips, echoing a longing you can no longer suppress. “Alpha…”

Atsumu’s groan vibrates through your body as his lips trail down your jawline, a possessive hunger that makes your knees weak. His tongue flicks over your scent gland, marking his claim with a rasping, “Mine, always been mine.” And it all gets too much for little you. Tears stream down your cheeks as you plead, “Tsumu… please…” Each cry is a mix of desperation and guilt, torn between what you know is wrong and the overpowering need within you.

“You’re telling me you belong to someone else? Yet you beg for me,” he speak lowly into your ear. As his sounds and murmurs fill your ear, the boundaries of right and wrong blur, leaving you surrendering to Atsumu’s fierce desire. His hands grip your waist with a primal hunger, the scent of desire thick in the air as he towers over you.

You shake your head, incoherent cries escaping your lips. “Just you… Ever always… Tsumu… Yours…” Atsumu’s breath hitches as he nips at your neck, his canines grazing your skin with a tantalising edge that sends shivers down your spine. The primal need within you breaks free, overwhelming your morals.

His erection presses against your tummy, the scandalous sensation causing a moan to escape you. You arch your body, craving the heat and pressure only he can provide. Atsumu’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he revels in your response.

“Good omega,” he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. His hands explore your body, tracing your curves before sliding under your dress to caress your bare skin. Every touch is electric, fueling the fire between you.

When his fingers brush against your damp panties, Atsumu’s leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You’re mine, every part of you.” You moan in reply as his touch makes your body tremble, his weight pressing against you with a throbbing intensity.

“Please…” you beg, grinding against him, seeking more friction. “Tsumu… I need…” The energy almost driving you to come undone already, each touch overwhelming your self-control.

Atsumu’s movements are motivated by an insatiable need, his rough hands unrelenting as he pushes you onto the bed. “I need you,” he utters, his voice thick with desire. Your heart pounds, anticipation and desperation spiralling out of control as he undresses, his clothes hitting the floor in a blur. The raw need coursing through you is almost unbearable, each second that passes intensifying your craving. His every movement is a tease, a promise of the release you’re aching for, and your body trembles with a desperate hunger that feels as though you need him to survive.

He tears away your dress with frantic urgency, his lips scattering kisses across your exposed skin. “So perfect,” he murmurs into your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His touch ignites a fresh wave of need as his lips trail down your collarbone, his fingers finding the hem of your panties and stripping them away with fervent determination. “Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice a low rasp.

When he finally tastes you, his tongue exploring your core with hungry abandon, each lick fuels the fire within. “More,” you plead, “Please, Tsumu, more!”

He hums in approval, swearing to himself to give you everything you crave. As he positions himself between your thighs, his body presses against yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Atsumu’s breath comes in ragged bursts as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with an almost feverish desire. “Maybe I should just fuck you senseless,” he muses, his voice thick with hunger. You whine in need, your body trembling as you practically drool over the sight of him. His slightly too-big cock rubs teasingly against your folds, each friction sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

“Gonna fill that sweet little cunt with my cum…” he groans, his words a sultry promise as he coats himself with your juices. Without any further preparation, he pushes into you. The stretch is overwhelming—too much, too good, too painful, yet just right. It’s as if he belongs inside you.

Your body arches instinctively to meet him, a desperate cry escaping your lips as you revel in the sensation. The connection between you both is undeniable, and with each inch that he sinks deeper, you’re consumed by the desperate need that has built up between you over the years.

Atsumu moans in response to your cries, his voice a low growl. “Breed you all day long, fuck…” he continues, his words a promise of unrelenting passion. He pauses for a moment, his hand gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place. The tip of his cock presses deeply into your fluttering walls, each thrust reaching parts of you that make your body shiver.

“Not already coming from just this, are you, baby?” Atsumu growls, his breath hot against your skin. His voice is laced with a mix of teasing and hunger, the edge of possessiveness clear in his tone. When you nod, your soft mewls send shivers through him.

Your arms tighten around his neck, pressing your face against his warm, soft skin as you beg, “Please, plea—ah, take care of me.” Your desperation is punctuated by those pathetic little whimpers, a level of need that drives your Alpha absolutely insane.

Atsumu pulls out of you momentarily, his gaze locked on yours. He groans, “‘Course I will,” before his hips snap forward again, plunging into you with a relentless force. Each thrust is driven by years of pent-up frustration and need, every motion filled with unfiltered desire.

You writhe beneath him, consumed by an overwhelming urge for his bite, his cock, his knot. You crave to be filled to the brim, your body yearning to be stretched and stuffed until you're perfectly round and swollen. “Tsumu” Your voice is desperate, barely recognizable as your own, laced with need. “I'm breeding your sweet little cunt and you’re going to take every. single. drop.” With the last words he already thrusts harshly into you. Big hands claw into your waist, forcing your body to arch helplessly as he dominates you. His thrusts are deep and relentless, each powerful movement making the fat of your ass jiggle. “Such a good bunny…” Atsumu groans, his voice dripping with possessive satisfaction.

“Now, come for me,” Atsumu commands, his gaze fixed on your quivering form. “Come all over me.” Desperation claws at you as you seek your release, your weak hands scratching at Atsumu’s back, leaving red streaks that burn on his skin. Legs spread wide for your alpha, your breasts bounce with every forceful thrust of Atsumu’s hips, connecting with yours in a delightful rhythm. Pleasure clouds your mind, reducing you to a chant of his name, each utterance a desperate plea.

Atsumu's mind roars with need as he looks down at you. He wants to mark you, claim you completely, and breed you. Now that he has you beneath him, he is determined to savour every moment, to ensure you are utterly his. He wants to see you drunk on his cock, to take care of you, his darling omega, until all but him is forgotten.

Atsumu feels you clenching around him, your tightness pushing him to the brink. “Just like that, good girl,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “You’re gonna make me cum.” The desire in his eyes is fierce as he thrusts deeper, the remnants of his control fraying with every movement.

With each powerful thrust, Atsumu's need to possess you grows. He envisions you marked, claimed, and filled by him, an unbreakable bond forged in this moment of passion. The rhythm of your bodies is a dance of primal desire, your cries of ecstasy blending with his guttural groans. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of pleasure and need.

As you feel the peak of your release approaching, your body tightens around him, every nerve ending aflame with sensation. Atsumu's words, his touch, his presence, all coalesce into a symphony of desire that drives you over the edge. You tremble beneath him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in time with the rhythm of his thrusts.

You ache for him to release inside you, to fill you to the brim with the warmth you craved. The slap of his thighs against yours, the wet, frantic noises, and the erratic breaths all that fills the space between you. His strong scent envelops you, mingling with your own, as his fingers find your clit, rubbing with a relentless rhythm. The pleasure is overwhelming, stars exploding behind your closed eyes, your mind unable to grasp anything but the ecstasy he is giving you.

Atsumu’s chest presses heavily against you, a constant reminder of his dominance. “Don’t ever forget—” he rasps, his grip tightening on your hips. “That pretty cunt… these perfect tits… every damn inch of you belongs to me.” His words were a possessive threat, a vow of ownership.

He has you, his delicate omega, completely at his mercy. He's never going to give you away again. He feels high thanks to the way you unravel beneath him, turning you into a trembling, sobbing mess, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch and the sheer force of his desire.

In that moment, you both reach the pinnacle of your desires, your high-pitched moans intertwining with Atsumu's deep, guttural ones. And he fills you so deliciously. Atsumu’s knot swells, pressing tightly inside you as he fills you with his cum. Each pulse of his release sends waves of ecstasy through you, making you feel as if you’re on the brink of losing yourself. His teeth bite down on your neck, and the stinging sensation sends lightning to course through your weakened frame, chiselling your bond in stone. It feels as though the world has narrowed to just the two of you, your bodies entangled in a state of perfect, overwhelming bliss. “Mine, all mine...” the hushed promised whispered into your nape.

As the sensations finally begin to recede, you drift into unconsciousness, the warmth of sleep enveloping you and providing a hazy escape from mistakes made in the dark.

#cw dark content #cw omegaverse #cw stepcest #cw breeding #cw knotting #cw blood #cw obsession #cw incest #cw cheating #aki will always be my waif as well <3 #cw dubcon #haikyuu omegaverse #alpha atsumu

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earlysunshines · 4 hours

Text

we'll be alright, please try again

kim minji x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: you and minji break it off, both emotionally and physically, each pushing the other away. but the universe has other plans, bringing you two back to square one as if you were always meant to find your way back to one another.

warnings: sixth member!reader ; arguing ; pining ; reader is canadian for the plot but it's not even that important it's just for a silly tims joke and smth more ; ugh they're so in love get away ; angsty but super fluffy + heavy pining ; a lot in one ; iffy pacing imo ; have fun with this one i rly liked writing this ; wtv else i didnt mention

a/n: guys PLEAAASSSE don’t be scared of the hook and angst tag PLSGIYS i swear it’s sweet… i swear. i was smiling throughout don’t be scared… it’s not THAT bad ANYWAYS i want timmy's so bad rn... un cafe infuse froid a la vanille si vous PLAAAIIT someone send me timbits asap

“i think we should break up.”

minji’s head snaps toward you, eyes wide, an exasperated “what?” escaping her lips.

confusion flashes across her face, and for good reason. everything has been good between you two, really good—no fighting, no tension, just the usual hustle of practice and training. you’ve both always found a way to make it work, to balance everything. so why now? why are you saying this?

you can’t bring yourself to meet her gaze, your eyes focused on some spot on the floor instead, teeth worrying your bottom lip.

“we’re both training so hard,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think we should focus on that for now.”

“but… everything is fine,” she says, a pleading note in her voice. “i don’t get it…”

truth is, you don’t want this—not at all. the idea of breaking up with her makes your chest tighten painfully. but things have gotten tougher lately, the rules stricter, your company’s expectations weighing heavily on you. being with minji would only make things harder down the line, for her and for you. you’d never want to hold her back—not her, not the person you love more than anything.

“i think it’s best for us,” you repeat, though your voice lacks conviction.

minji’s brows knit together, her eyes searching your face. “why do you get to decide this?” she argues, her voice rising slightly. “let’s just… talk it out. we can work through this, can’t we? we always work it out.”

you’ve only been together a few months, but they’ve been some of the best months of your life—of her life too, you know that. both of you are still figuring things out, still finding yourselves in the midst of all this chaos. hell, neither of you are legal adults yet, both being sixteen and clueless. but it’s minji who made you realize you’d never feel this way for anyone else, certainly not a man. she was the first girl who gave you butterflies just by smiling at you, the first whose hand you held with a racing heart, the first whose cheek you kissed, feeling your face flush with warmth.

and there’s that one memory, a core memory that replays in your mind like a favorite song—you can still feel her hands gently holding your face, the way her eyes sparkled with something pure, something deep, right before she leaned in and kissed you. your first kiss, your first everything. she’s your first love, and the thought of letting that go feels like tearing out a piece of yourself.

tearing yourself away from her would be better for her anyway, that’s what your company insisted anyway.

“please,” minji whispers, and there’s a crack in her voice that breaks you all over again. “don’t do this.”

you swallow hard, your resolve wavering. your chest feels heavy, like you’re carrying a weight you can’t bear. but you press your lips together, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her into your arms, where she belongs.

“it’s… it’s better this way,” you say, even as everything inside you screams the opposite.

minji shakes her head slowly, a tear slipping down her cheek. “it’s not,” she insists, voice breaking. “it’s not better… not for me.”

and you know, deep down, it’s not better for you either.

“minji,” you begin, voice faltering.

“don’t minji me,” she snaps, eyes fierce and determined. “we’re not breaking up.”

“we have to, don’t you get it?” your voice breaks, tears welling up as you stand in front of the entrance to her dorm, the one she always complained about, the one you’ve come to know so well. “how will we ever debut if we have these worries and burdens in the back of our minds?”

minji pauses, her features softening, but her gaze remains fixed on you. “you think i’m a burden?”

“n-no! no, minji, no.” you shake your head quickly, regretting your words the second they leave your mouth. “it’s not like that… my company’s been on my back, pushing me harder, and they might move me to another one. god, i feel like a pawn in chess or something. look, it’s just… it’s best we focus on our own paths right now.”

minji’s eyes search yours, hurt etched across her face. “we’ve always made time for each other before. what’s different this time? y/n, i love you.”

“we’re sixteen, minji,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “we’re young and… and stupid, and nothing in the future is promised.”

“well, i want you in mine. i would do anything to make sure you’re there in mine, anything.” she insists, her voice trembling, “even if you debut and i don’t, or the other way around—i want you there. i want you there always.” she steps closer, her hands coming up to rest on your shoulders, her touch warm and steady, even as your own resolve begins to crumble.

her words make your neck tense, your lip quiver. you feel the tears spill over, hot against your skin. minji moves one hand to your cheek, her thumb brushing away the tears, her gaze softening as she whispers, “i love you. i love you when i’m exhausted from practice, i love you when i’m stressed over exams, i love you when we only have a few minutes together… i love you every moment of every day. i can’t… i can’t let you go.”

you shake your head, your breath coming out in short, uneven gasps as you pull away from her touch. minji’s brows knit together, her eyes filled with concern as she watches you crumble, sees you bury your face in your hands. you take a shaky breath, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

“i’m sorry, minji,” you choke out, your voice heavy with emotion. “i love you, but we can’t… we can’t do this. i don’t want to talk about it anymore. you don’t need me in your life. i—” your breath hitches, your heart clenching painfully in your chest. you wonder if it’s worth it, if sacrificing what you have with her is really the way to achieve your dreams. “i don’t need you in mine right now,” you finish, your voice cracking, every word cutting through you. “we should focus on our own things.”

minji stares at you, her eyes searching yours, her heart breaking, the words slowly sinking in. a tear slips down her cheek, and she doesn’t bother to wipe it away.

you take a step back, your vision blurred with tears. “i’m sorry, minji… i’m doing this for us—for you.”

you turn away, your chest tight, and as you walk away, the sound of minji’s quiet sobs echoes in your ears, each one tearing at your heart a little more. but you don’t look back. you can’t. not now, not when every step away from her feels like losing a part of yourself.

—

it’s been a year. one long, agonizing year since you last spoke to minji. a year spent fighting the urge to look through the hidden folder on your phone filled with photos of the two of you, each image a reminder of what you lost. you’ve stopped crying every night—first every week, then every month. but the guilt, the sorrow of losing her, the love of your life, still clings to you like a shadow.

you’ve thrown yourself into training, harder than ever. it stopped being about debuting a long time ago; now it’s just a distraction, a way to drown out the ache that never seems to fade. but was it worth it, listening to the company, if the will to keep going feels like it’s slipping through your fingers?

then, one day, they pull you aside. your company tells you you’re being relocated, moved to another company that’s shown interest in you, in your potential. they say you might debut sooner. it sounds like everything you should want, so you agree, packing your bags and letting them shuttle you off to the new dorms, even if a part of you feels numb, disconnected.

when you arrive at the new building, something about it feels familiar. the hallway, the scent in the air, the way the light filters through the windows—it all makes your heart thud in your chest, unease curling in your stomach. memories you tried so hard to bury start to bubble up.

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts, and push open the door to your new room. it’s… not much. the walls look a little worn, there’s a fine layer of dust on the shelves, and it’s small—cramped, really. not surprising. you’re still a trainee, after all. you didn’t expect luxury.

inside, two girls turn to look at you, surprised by your sudden entrance. one is shorter, with wavy hair and a bright, warm smile, the other taller and younger-looking, with a curious expression. you manage a small, polite smile in return.

“hi, they sent me to source–”

“you must be y/n?” the girl with wavy hair interrupts, tilting her head slightly, studying you with interest as you shut the door behind you. “i’m danielle, nice to meet you.” her voice is friendly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“hi, nice to meet you too.” you reply, noticing the slight arch of her brows. your korean is decent, but the accent still lingers, evident enough to catch attention.

“i’m hyein,” the younger girl chimes in, a grin spreading across her face. “are you from here?”

“n-no, i’m not,” you stammer, a little caught off guard. “you could tell from my accent, huh? i’m still working on my korean. i’m fluent in english though.”

hyein glances at danielle, then back to you. she points at danielle and adds, “danielle speaks english too.”

“you do?” you ask, turning to danielle. she nods.

“yeah,” danielle says, switching to english with an easy smile. “it’s nice to have another english speaker around. two of the other trainees speak it pretty well too.” her accent is thick, australian, and it’s like a tiny piece of familiarity amidst all the change.

a small relief floods through you, just enough to calm the nerves that have been knotting your stomach all day. “oh, that’s… that’s good to know,” you say, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“yeah,” danielle agrees, and for the first time since you arrived, you feel like maybe, just maybe, this new start won’t be as hard as you thought.

they both help you settle in, and soon you find yourself sharing a bed with hyein. it’s cramped, barely enough space for two, but it’s better than nothing. you’re grateful for their kindness. both of them seem so genuinely sweet, and you quickly learn that danielle is only a year younger than you, while hyein is much younger. she’s practically a child, literally a child, you feel a protective instinct kick in immediately. there’s a sincerity in her wide-eyed curiosity, an innocence that makes you want to look out for her, to make sure nothing ever limits her spirit.

danielle, on the other hand, is a ball of sunshine—radiating warmth and energy that makes the room feel brighter. she’s constantly smiling, her laughter infectious, and even though there’s a hint of tiredness in the way she moves, a slight slump to her shoulders, she’s still so full of life. she talks a lot, her voice light and cheerful as she shoots question after question while getting to know you. it’s hard not to be eased by her easygoing charm.

as the night wears on, they do their best to lift your spirits, sensing the nerves that still linger just beneath the surface. danielle makes a few silly jokes that make you smile despite yourself, and hyein tries to comfort you with small gestures—a reassuring pat on the arm, a soft-spoken “it’s okay, you’ll get used to it. they must’ve relocated you for a reason!” they can tell you’ve been thrown into this new situation without much warning, and they’re doing their best to make you feel welcome.

you feel a strange mixture of fear and hope—this whole thing is still so new, so uncertain. it’s unsettling to be here, to have been displaced so suddenly, but at least your new roommates are wonderful. they’re different from the people at your old company, where the atmosphere had been tense, filled with a kind of hostility that always made you feel on edge. here, there’s warmth, a sense of camaraderie you haven’t felt in a long time.

you wonder if this company will be any different. you hope it doesn’t end up ripping you apart like the last one, but for now, you find comfort in the gentle smiles and kind words of danielle and hyein. they make this unfamiliar place feel a little less lonely, a little less scary, and for tonight, that’s enough.

—

danielle shakes you and hyein awake at the crack of dawn, urging you both to get ready for training. it’s a normal routine for them, but for you, it’s the start of something new. you rush through your morning routine—skincare, a light layer of makeup, and clothes you hope are suitable for dancing. you quickly follow the two out, trailing behind as they lead you down a path toward another building, one that you assume is where all the training happens.

inside, they guide you through the hallways until you reach a room. danielle opens the door, and you’re greeted by an empty dance studio. hyein lights up at the sight, a wide grin spreading across her face. “we have some time to warm up before the other three get here,” she says, already jogging inside.

danielle steps in next, and you follow, trying to push down the nerves fluttering in your stomach. you all sit on the floor, stretching your legs, trying to loosen up and prepare for what you know will be hours of hard work. you focus on improving your flexibility, feeling the slight burn in your muscles as you push yourself further. ten minutes pass, and just as you start to feel a little more at ease, there’s a knock at the door.

the three of you turn your heads in unison, watching as the door creaks open and a girl shuffles in, rubbing her eyes like she just woke up. behind her, two more girls enter—the first is a shorter girl who yawns deeply with each step she takes, but the second girl… your heart stops dead in your chest.

kim minji.

kim fucking minji.

she catches your gaze, and both of you freeze. time seems to halt, your eyes locking onto each other in shock. minji looks just as stunned as you feel, her expression mirroring the disbelief you know is written all over your face. you can’t breathe, can’t think—your mind is spinning, and your heart feels like it’s dropped to your stomach.

before you can fully process what’s happening, a voice from the other side of the room snaps you back to reality. “you’re the new girl? nice to meet you! i’m hanni,” the shorter girl says, approaching with a friendly smile.

you force yourself to tear your eyes away from minji, swallowing hard before managing a polite smile in return. “nice to meet you, i’m y/n.”

minji, on the other hand, feels like she’s caught in a dream—or maybe a nightmare. you’re standing right there, in front of her, looking just as beautiful as you did the last time she saw you, minus the tears streaming down your face. she thought she had done pretty well moving on, pushing you aside so far in her mind so that she only thinks of you when she’s not bombarded with coursework or training—so rarely. she can’t move, can’t speak, not until danielle calls her over, breaking her from her trance. she takes a shaky breath and forces herself to join the group, her mind still reeling.

the room feels charged with tension, both of you stealing glances when you think the other isn’t looking, neither daring to say a word. it’s a strange, painful coincidence, running into each other like this. it’s almost as if cupid is playing a cruel joke, aiming to tear your heart to pieces rather than make it flutter.

and the worst part is, you just have to push on with practice like there’s no history between you two. like you don’t have memories stored up in your mind of her laugh, the way her hand fit in yours, or the way she looked at you like you were the only person in the world. both of you are still so young, but you know better than to let your feelings get in the way—not when debuting is on the line.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you introduce yourself to everyone again, making sure to keep your eyes anywhere but on minji. your voice is calm, your smile practiced, and you do your best to pretend that she isn’t standing just a few feet away, close enough for you to hear her breath hitch, close enough that you can almost feel the weight of her stare.

the room is filled with conversation as the girls introduce themselves back, one by one. you nod, exchange pleasantries, but every word feels heavy, like you’re walking on a tightrope above a pit of old memories and unspoken feelings. you focus on the faces in front of you, the ones you haven’t seen before, trying to absorb their names and voices — hanni, haerin, danielle, hyein, and… — anything to distract from the familiar face you know too well.

then, practice begins, and you force yourself to concentrate on learning the choreography, to commit every move to memory. the beats of the music fill the room, and you step in time, trying to mirror danielle and hanni’s movements. you stretch your arms, pivot your feet, focus on your control, and move across the floor, pretending that your ex-love-of-your-life isn’t right there, just a few steps away.

you try not to notice minji’s presence, the way her hair falls across her face when she turns, or the way she bites her lip when she’s trying to focus. you do everything you can to ignore the quickening of your heart whenever you hear her voice, sharp and clear, giving feedback to the others. you push down the memories that threaten to surface, the images of stolen kisses and whispered secrets, forcing yourself to focus on the rhythm, the steps, and the music.

but it’s hard to pretend when every glance feels loaded, every second that passes feels like an eternity. you know you’re here for a reason, to work hard, to debut, to make something of yourself, and you can’t let old feelings get in the way of that—not now, not ever. still, as you dance, you feel a pang of something deep in your chest, a longing that no amount of practice can seem to shake. not this time.

—

another year goes by, a year of slowly building bonds with the other girls and learning how to navigate around minji’s presence. the two of you have grown, mature enough to look each other in the eye, exchange a few words when necessary, but never more than that. neither of you dare to willingly interact beyond what's required.

an unspoken agreement hangs between you both: act alright in front of the others, get along enough to avoid raising questions, and move on. it’s all you can do. three hundred and sixty-five days pass, and in that time, you begin to notice more about minji, the side of her that never wavered, the side that’s still so caring towards everyone around her.

you see her helping hanni with her korean, keeping hyein motivated with endless praises, complimenting danielle on her improvements, and reassuring haerin when worries weigh on her. minji’s always been the caring type, that never changed. neither did her pretty, gummy smile, her soft eyes, the way her eyebrows furrow in concentration—everything about her that once made your heart skip a beat still lingers, still draws your attention.

it stings, realizing your feelings haven’t faded. they’re still there, buried beneath the surface, and you know they’ll remain, how could they not? it’s kim minji you’re dealing with. if you debut together, those feelings will continue to simmer, but you push them down, suppress them, because you’re the one who created the distance between you two. the tension is your fault, and you have to deal with your mistakes.

minji tries not to break, not when she sees you laughing and being carefree with the others, yet stiff and distant around her. she knows she should be angry, and she is, but not enough to hate you. you’re both just young, chasing your dreams, and if that means leaving her behind, minji will accept it. as long as you’re happy, she can let go, because no matter what, she’ll always care about you, always love you in her own quiet way.

her feelings haven’t faded either, and sometimes it shows—when you’re with the others, bringing laughter and light into the room, she remembers the way you once brought that same warmth into her life. but staying stuck in the past won’t help her, and minji knows that. she allows herself a few glances, lets her gaze linger on you when she thinks no one’s looking, before pulling herself back to reality.

there’s always that unspoken tension in the air, the weight of words never said, the feelings both of you try so hard to bury. but somehow, you manage to keep going. you get by, coexisting in the same space, neither of you willing to confront the past, but not quite able to forget it either.

—

two days until debut, and the excitement is electric.

all six of you are buzzing, nerves mixed with joy. after years of grinding, sleepless nights, and moments where the dream seemed too far, you're almost there—right on the cusp of what you've always wanted. the final practice for "attention" wraps up, and you gather in a circle, sharing words of encouragement. the rehearsal went better than any of you could have hoped for, and the anticipation of seeing the music video reactions and stepping on stage for the first time is almost too much to handle.

the energy in the room shifts once practice is over, everyone easing into a more relaxed state. danielle is sprawled out on the floor, leaning against hanni, who's leaning on hyein. haerin sits by the mirror, legs crossed, lost in her thoughts. minji, meanwhile, stands near the mirror on the other side of the room, hands on her hips, staring at her reflection. you're in the center of the room, watching her without even realizing it, your eyes tracing the curve of her back before you finally gather the nerve to approach her.

you tap her shoulder twice, and she turns around, surprise flickering across her face. "y/n?" she says softly.

"hey..." you respond, suddenly shy, your eyes flickering from her chin to her collarbone, avoiding direct eye contact. "can we talk?"

minji hesitates, glancing around the room before nodding. "alright."

you lead her out of the practice room, both of you offering quick excuses as you slip away. the walk down the hallway is quiet, the silence heavy between you. minji waits for you to say something, but you can't seem to find the words until you reach a small window in front of a couch and potted plant. the light streaming in casts a soft glow over the space, and you take a deep breath.

“we’re debuting soon,” you say, the words awkward as they leave your mouth.

“yeah,” she breathes, her gaze following yours out the window.

“it’s been my— our dream for so long,” you continue, voice quiet. “i know things have been... rough between us. and that’s on me. i wanted to apologize.”

you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet her eyes, even if just for a moment. “from here on out, i want to mend things between us.”

minji’s eyes widen, and you can see the surprise written all over her face. you can tell she’s about to say something, but you press on before she can interrupt.

“i’m not asking for us to go back to how things were, i know that’s wrong of me to ask, considering i… yeah.” you clarify, gulping and trying to supress a faint blush. “but i want us to be members, to get along. eventually, maybe even friends again. i just want to fix things—at least a little. i know our past was complicated, but if we’re going to debut together, i want there to be less tension. more of... a broken bridge than no bridge at all, you know?”

your words hang in the air, and minji is silent for a few moments, processing. she looks at you with an expression you can’t quite place, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve said too much. then she speaks, her voice quiet, almost fragile.

“okay,” she says, the word barely escaping her throat. “i want that too.”

relief washes over you, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. a small smile tugs at your lips. “i’m glad. i hope we can talk more, catch up... maybe do something normal again.”

“something normal,” minji echoes, a hint of uncertainty in her voice, but she smiles. it’s a soft, genuine smile, one that makes your heart clench a little.

the two of you stand there, the silence between you now comfortable, not heavy like before. for the first time in what feels like forever, you’re seeing her—really seeing her. minji’s changed. she’s more mature, more thoughtful in her actions, her words. there’s a quiet authority about her now, especially as the eldest. the others look up to her, and honestly, so do you. hell, you’ve always looked up to her. she’s become even more beautiful, the soft evening light highlighting her features, giving her this glow that makes it hard to look at her for too long without feeling something stir inside you.

minji, on the other hand, is taking you in as well, a quiet smile on her lips as she does. there’s something almost poetic about this moment—you two, standing here together, about to debut in the same group. just years ago you two had met by the river, built a friendship and more, then less. regardless of what would have happened to the two of you, you’d end up together again.

to think that there was a whole time where you were both in different buildings, different spaces, hoping the other would make it. now, you’re side by side, part of the same dream, somehow together again. both of you made it.

—

after your first debut stage, adrenaline courses through your veins as the six of you rush backstage, breathless and buzzing. the girls are squealing, jumping around, and you can’t help but grin at them. then, your eyes meet minji’s across the room. her smile is genuine, proud, and it softens something inside you. you mirror her expression, holding her gaze longer than you should, until danielle tackles you with a hug so tight you feel like your ribs might cave in.

“that was amazing!” danielle beams, pulling back just enough to see your face, her eyes sparkling. “i can’t believe we just did that.”

“i know, right?” you respond in english, your body finally beginning to relax. “i’m so... overwhelmed, but in the best way.”

“so many people were cheering for you.” danielle pokes your cheek playfully, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. “bet it was that wink you pulled off during your ending fairy.”

your face flushes instantly, and you push her away with a groan. “stop! i was nervous! i didn’t know what else to do…”

danielle’s laughter is contagious, and soon hanni joins in, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “smooth wink, miss l/n,” she teases. “you might end up with a lot of fangirls, more than guys i bet.”

you whine, trying to push them both away, before finding refuge by haerin, who’s spaced out in her own world. she blinks at you, a bit startled as you point over to danielle, hanni, and now hyein, who’s joined in, the trio replaying your ending fairy. they giggle like kids, mocking the way you winked and bit the inside of your lip. haerin just sighs in understanding, standing beside you like a silent bodyguard.

minji watches the whole scene unfold from a distance, a small smile tugging at her lips. there’s a warmth in her chest, seeing everyone so carefree and happy after all the hard work. she’s beyond glad that you all made it, that the dream finally came true.

(even if you’re not hers anymore, you’re happy, and that’s more than enough for her. minji is grateful just to know that.)

–

the next month flies by in a blur. your ep is out, there’s promotions, interviews, a few meetings, and just so much. despite the whirlwind, every feeling from every moment sticks with you, vivid and sharp.

each track from your ep gains massive popularity, spreading across the globe with people praising the group left and right. your debut isn’t just a debut—it’s the debut of the year, and suddenly, everyone’s talking about you. you’ve become the new “it” group, with people especially stunned by hyein’s talent at such a young age. the attention is surreal, but what shocks you the most is the way people are talking about you. everywhere you look, there are comments about your visuals, your voice, and the shy praise makes your cheeks burn.

(of course, hanni and danielle never miss the chance to tease you about your ending fairies blowing up online. each one garners thousands of views, and despite the attention, you cringe at every single one.)

but while you’re in the spotlight, so is minji. social media can’t get enough of her, with countless posts gushing over her visuals. people are stunned by how effortlessly beautiful she is, how her voice carries a certain warmth and depth. all the things you’ve always admired about her are now being praised by the world. her popularity is skyrocketing, and it’s no surprise to you. minji has always been stunning, both inside and out, and now everyone else is finally seeing what you’ve known all along.

it’s bittersweet; all the gushing over minji had been your little thing before you messed it all up.

—

minji sits with the rest of the girls in the dorm complex, a new one near hybe. it’s nicer, not as cramped as the old place, and even though she still shares a bed with haerin, she loves it.

(it’s a queen sized bed instead of a full size, she’s not complaining at all.)

she’s grateful for everything, especially the upgrade from where they used to live. they’re all gathered for dinner, a celebratory meal after their debut, but as the minutes tick by, minji notices something off: you’re not there.

the rest of the girls don’t seem fazed, but minji is. she’s the oldest, the most observant, and it feels strange that a whole member is missing. she waits a few more minutes, but you still haven’t shown up.

“have any of you seen y/n?” minji asks, her voice calm but curious. “i don’t want us to eat without her. we’re a team—it doesn’t feel right.”

hanni tilts her head, looking a bit confused. “she didn’t tell you?”

“tell me what?” minji’s brows furrow slightly.

haerin chimes in. “she went out.”

“what?” minji stands up from the table, the unease settling in her stomach.

“i told her to stay,” haerin continues, “but she kept saying ‘it’s okay’ and that she’d be back in an hour or something. she seemed pretty eager to get out.”

danielle shrugs, adding casually, “yeah, she told all of us. she didn’t mention it to you?”

minji shakes her head, feeling a small twist in her chest. “no, she didn’t.” the thought of you being out alone, especially during a meal this important, doesn’t sit right with her. you’d left your wallet in haerin’s bag—minji remembers seeing it out of the corner of her eye, a little gray wallet you always carried. she hadn’t thought much of it, assuming you’d all eat together like usual.

“she said she’s not hungry,” hyein chimes in. “she said she snacked too much earlier. don’t worry, she’ll be back.”

minji hesitates, still standing while the others pick up their bowls and begin eating. she knows you too well—you’re the type to lie if it meant sparing someone from worrying about you. and if you were really hungry but said otherwise, it just made her feel worse.

she sits back down but can’t shake the unease gnawing at her. she’s never eaten this fast before, practically gulping down the side dishes and wrapping lettuce around the grilled meat without much thought. she finishes her meal quickly, but it feels empty, and the food doesn’t settle well in her stomach.

after a few bites, she stands again, slipping on a light sweater. “i don’t want y/n to miss out on this food. it’s really good,” she says, her voice light, but her eyes are serious. “i’m going to go look for her, i’ll be back soon.”

before anyone can respond, she’s out the door. she walks quickly, her steps filled with purpose. she knows where you’ll be, and it’s not long before she’s headed to the place she’s almost certain you’ve gone to.

it’s a five-minute walk to the nearest bus stop, a three-minute wait, and a ten-minute bus ride to the area she’s thinking of. the city blurs by as she stares out the window, her thoughts racing. another few minutes pass as she speedwalks from the bus stop, her legs carrying her to the familiar bench by the river, the one with the view of the bridge that glows softly in the evening light.

she remembers the first time she met you here, how you both talked for hours, the breeze gently blowing through the trees. it’s quiet now, the water rippling softly under the dimming sky, and there you are, sitting alone on the bench, looking out at the water.

(“hi, is anyone sitting here?” minji asks, her voice lighter than it is now.

she’s fifteen, fresh from a rare break in her training. she holds a small bag of honey chips in one hand and convenience store gimbap in the other—nowhere near as good as her mom’s, but enough to fill her up. her usual bench is taken, though, and she spots you sitting there. no big deal, she thinks, she’ll just sit on the other side.

you glance up, still chewing, and your eyes widen at the sight of her. “o-oh, no! here, sitting, um, no one. you can—uh—” you fumble for the words, trying to string them together. “alone, i am. with me, no one.”

minji smiles at you, easily picking up on your accent, the way you stumble through the grammar. a foreigner, she thinks. she gives you a thumbs up and takes a seat next to you, setting her bag of chips between the two of you.

you blink at her, caught off guard by how effortlessly she seems to glow. before you can say anything, she catches you staring, and offers you a chip. “want one?” she asks, holding the bag out.

“it’s okay, food, i have.” you respond, shaking your head, but she giggles softly.

“i have food,” minji gently corrects you, repeating the sentence with a small smile.

you mumble an embarrassed, “oh,” before adding shyly, “yeah, i have food.”

“your korean is really good,” minji compliments you, her tone warm. “it’s just your grammar and formality. but it’s not a big deal if we’re the same age. how old are you?”

you pause, taking a second to process her words, then respond, “fifteen. i’m fifteen.”

minji’s face lights up, her eyes crinkling with her bright smile, and you find yourself mirroring her expression. “me too!”

“really?” you say in english, then quickly switch back, clearing your throat. “really?”

minji nods, understanding your little slip, and switches to english herself. “you speak english?”

your eyes widen slightly in relief. “you speak english too?”

“i learned some here in korea,” she explains, her voice soothing and calm. “i also studied in canada for a while.”

“no way! i’m from canada.”

“really?” minji’s eyes sparkle with interest.

“yeah,” you grin, glancing out at the bridge in front of you, the soft glow of the evening lights reflecting off the water. “i’d kill for some timbits right now… i wish korea had them.”

“i get that, they were my favorites when i studied there. cheap and good.” minji chuckles softly before asking, “why are you in korea? are you studying abroad?”

your smile falters for a second, and you hesitate before answering. “well, i want to be an idol. it’s… kind of stupid. i came here alone after making it through the audition and getting scouted, but i barely know the language. i just really want to be an idol—it’s my dream.”

“it’s not stupid at all.” minji leans in a little closer, her eyes locking on yours, the sincerity in her gaze catching you off guard. “i want to be one too. i’m a trainee.”

“really?” your surprise is evident in your voice. “that makes two of us.”

“i guess it does,” minji agrees, holding the bag of chips out to you again. “i’m minji, kim minji.”

“that’s a nice name,” you say, accepting the chip this time, plopping it into your mouth. “i’m y/n, l/n y/n.”

minji grins, her eyes soft as she says, “even nicer name.” the compliment catches you off guard, and you can’t help but giggle at her words.)

you notice someone sit down next to you, catching minji’s presence in your peripheral. her voice, now deeper and more grounded than that first time you met her, cuts through the silence.

“i hope this seat isn’t taken.”

your muscles relax as you scoot over to make room for her. “it’s not.” you keep your eyes on her as she settles in beside you, looking out at the familiar view. the glasses perched on her nose somehow make her even more striking, drawing out the natural allure she’s always had. you can’t help but let your gaze linger on her profile, tracing the soft lines of her face.

before you lose yourself entirely, she breaks the silence. “you weren’t at dinner.”

“i wasn’t hungry.” you lie easily, turning back to the bridge.

minji gives you a side glance, clearly unconvinced. “right.”

“i just needed some space.” the truth slips out this time, your voice quieter. you can feel her gaze shift, now fixed on you. “how did you know i’d be here?” you ask, still staring ahead, avoiding her eyes.

“some things don’t change, y/n.” she says simply, leaning back into the bench. “i had a hunch.”

you stay quiet, the wind brushing past you both. the bench holds too much history for either of you to ignore. the same spot, years later.

(“you’re here again.” it had only been a week since your first meeting. minji had found you on the bench at nine at night, munching on fruit snacks. “thinking of timbits?”

you laughed, patting the seat next to you. “maybe.”

minji smiled as she sat down, and you handed her a piece of dried fruit without a second thought. “was it a coincidence that we ran into each other again?” she asked, sounding curious.

“maybe i’m just lucky,” you said playfully, “lucky to have run into you again.”

“lucky to run into me?” she raised an eyebrow.

“you’re the only person i can talk to like this,” you admitted. “i was hoping i’d see you again, kim minji.”

“i was kind of hoping the same, l/n y/n.”

“is that so?” you grinned, scooting closer.

“maybe.”

the two of you spent the next hour talking, shoulders nearly touching, laughter filling the space between you. the fruit snacks were long gone, but you stayed, sharing stories about trainee life and the little struggles of the week. it felt easy, natural, like you’d known each other for years.

when your phone buzzed with a notification, your face fell, and minji’s mirrored yours.

“you have to go?” her voice held a tinge of disappointment.

“yeah,” you sighed, “but let’s meet again, okay? can i get your kakao?”

“of course!” minji had jumped at the chance, quickly giving you her contact. “can we meet again next week? i’m happy i’ve made a friend like you.”

“me too,” you had said softly, “you’re like a savior. my korean is so bad…”

“i’ll help you with that,” she’d laughed, “but our time is limited.”

you hugged her then, surprising her with the closeness. she caught the faint scent of lavender on you and hesitated for only a moment before hugging you back tightly. you mumbled a quiet “thanks,” your lips brushing against her hair near her ear, making her shiver slightly.

“for what?” she had asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“doesn’t matter.”)

you feel minji looking at you now, and in the corner of your eye, you see her scoot a little closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. it’s subtle, but the warmth from years ago flickers to life again in your chest.

“your korean is really good now,” she says after a pause, her voice soft. “especially since the first time we met.”

“i’d hope so, after three years.” you smile to yourself, trying to lighten the moment.

minji doesn’t laugh, though. instead, she turns to face you, her expression unreadable. “i was worried, you know?” she says quietly. “why did you tell everyone but me that you were leaving?”

you turn to meet her gaze, lips parting as you exhale softly. her eyes are as warm and familiar as ever. “i knew you’d make me go back inside.”

“i wouldn’t.”

“yes, you would.”

“i’d just go outside with you, y/n.”

her words settle between you, and you feel the weight of them in your chest. she’s always been too kind, too caring, even more now than when you first met. she’s still minji, but somehow better, different in ways that make you feel like you’re stuck in place, the same selfish version of yourself.

“oh.”

there’s no warning when your eyes start to sting, a subtle burn building until you feel the tears pooling. you turn away quickly, hoping to hide it before it gets worse.

“do you hate me?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper, but shaky enough to betray you. “i wouldn’t blame you.”

minji’s brows furrow. “do i what?”

“hate me.”

she pauses, studying you closely. her eyes trace the way your hands fidget restlessly in your lap—something she’s seen you do countless times before. you’ve always done it when you were anxious, whether it was before a monthly evaluation, or when you had something on your mind that you wouldn’t share with her. she notices how your teeth press into your lower lip, your foot bouncing slightly, a nervous habit she’s memorized over the years.

“y/n,” she says softly, scooting even closer until her side presses into yours. her arm wraps around your shoulders, gently pulling you into her. she holds you like she always has, her thumb brushing lightly over your arm in slow, comforting strokes. “i could never hate you.”

“i dumped you without a word,” you mutter bitterly, the words heavy on your tongue. “and then i got moved to your company, and you had to act like you were fine with me being there.”

minji stays quiet, letting you continue.

“you don’t have to pretend. i know i made it hard for you.”

“i’m not pretending,” she says, turning to look at you again. “you debuted, y/n, and that’s all i ever wanted for you. it’s your dream. you gave up so much to make it happen.” her voice softens even more, her gaze steady on you. “all i have is admiration for you. even if we’re… not together anymore, all i’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

her words only make the tears spill faster, flowing freely down your cheeks as you tremble beside her. the warmth of her touch is familiar, and it brings back memories of when you were sixteen, when she’d comfort you in moments just like this, when everything felt overwhelming.

“minji, i’m sorry,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking with the weight of it all.

“it’s okay,” she whispers, her hand still rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder.

you hate how vulnerable you feel, especially in front of her. you’ve held it together for so long, keeping your emotions locked down since the breakup, since the whirlwind of your debut. but now, sitting here next to her, it feels impossible to keep pretending. the tears keep coming, and you sniffle quietly, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand.

even though her arm is still around you, and part of you craves that comfort, you can’t help but feel like you don’t deserve it. the guilt presses down on you, and you gently take her hand, holding it for a brief moment to savor the warmth before carefully removing her arm from around your shoulders. you don’t meet her gaze as you do it, but minji seems to understand, not saying a word.

“you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” she asks after a beat, her voice still soft but with a hint of concern.

“i’m not that hungry,” you reply, forcing yourself to focus on anything but the heaviness in your chest.

“not even for gummy snacks?” she teases, tilting her head slightly as she watches you.

her playful tone pulls a small smile from your lips. “maybe for those…”

—

the next few months go quite normally, though it took you a bit to fully open up to minji.

you're timid and reserved, but there’s a new warmth in the way you interact with minji. the tension that kept you two apart starts to fade during the activities that come with your debut. livestreams, music video shoots, and photoshoots become regular parts of your routine, each one pulling you and minji closer.

during livestreams, you and minji share laughter, trading playful jabs as you engage with the fans. the cameras capture genuine smiles that hint at the friendship creeping up to the surface. music video filming offers another chance for you two to joke around, using humor to ease the nerves that come with performing in front of the crew.

you find comfort in those moments, the way your shoulders brush together as you wait. a cozy blanket drapes over the two of you, forcing you into close proximity. in those quiet moments, laughter spills from your lips, light and infectious, often unnoticed by the cameras. the bond between you deepens as you exchange jokes, the sound of your shared amusement weaving a thread of connection that feels both familiar and new.

photoshoots also lead to accidental closeness. whether it’s posing back-to-back or sharing a prop—or something much more heart-racing like minji putting her arm around you or your head ending up on her shoulder—you two frequently end up right next to each other, considering the fact that you two are the oldest of the bunch, and a popular duo. the laughter comes easily, her smile draws you in without fail, and soon you’re both cracking a bunch more jokes to distract from the awkwardness of the camera lenses. there was a stiffness in the curtain that separated you both, and as soon as it begins to fall the lingering chemistry starts to peek through again.

as time passes, the bond you share with minji deepens as well as with the other members. the lingering feelings you both carry remain tucked away, hidden in the trenches of your hearts and overshadowed by the growing friendship. you find some type of comfort in this new ‘normal.’ to be completely true to yourself, you’re just grateful for the connection that remind you both of the comfort you once shared.

(for the most part, it stings sometimes, mostly late at night.)

dinner and practice felt natural again too, as easy as brushing your teeth or opening the blinds in the morning. being around minji no longer held that awkward tension; instead, it was a comfort, familiar and warm. the only thing that lingered was your admiration for her, something small that colored your interactions.

(there were more nights that stung.)

at practice you’d see her greeting everyone with your favorite smile of hers, eyes crinkly and gums showing. she’d smile at you sweetly, maybe even sweeter than how she smiles at the others (but you could be delusional) then head on over to one corner to stretch.

even the others would notice this, catching you while you’re stretching, hand on one foot reaching for it as you stare at minji through the mirror.

minji is sweaty, lifting her shirt a bit to wipe remnants of the rigorous choreo and giving you a peek of her abdomen. when she brings her shirt back down, your eyes go back to her face. she’s stunning, even after all that exercise and tiring movement. her hair sticks to her a bit, and she just looks so—

hanni pushes you over subtly, making you fall over and let out a weird noise that only she catches. you give her a glare and get up.

“you’re so annoying.”

“someone’s daydreaming a lot these days.” hanni’s right, you’ve been doing that far too often.

“just got a lot on my mind.”

“you’re always staring at minji.” hanni snickers, looking over at the oldest member. “bunnies have even caught you in the youtube videos.”

“they have?”

hanni laughs, helping you up on your feet. “people are calling you guys ‘parentz’ online.”

“w-what?”

“it’s kind of cute,” she grins, “it’s actually hilarious. dani and i were laughing at some clips last night.”

you scoff in response, nudging her with your shoulder and snickering after. minji catches the interaction from afar, eyes narrowing just barely when hanni pushes you again with a little more force, and eyes narrowing just a bit more when you push her back again and laugh.

—

minji hasn’t felt like herself lately, it’s been more than a week. there’s something about you that keeps her attention, especially now that you look stunning for the comeback. in the photoshoots and music video recordings for “super shy” and “new jeans,” you radiated beauty, and minji often tried to look away, but your adorable hairstyle was impossible to resist. she found herself playing with your hair whenever hyein, danielle, or haerin joined in, but only when they distracted you. she wouldn’t dare being the first to do so.

as you began shooting for the full album—not even music video shooting or for the photobooks, just in the booth recording the actual songs—minji was pulled in like sand drawn back into the ocean. she caught sight of you just before her turn to record, attempting to sneak up and surprise you, but you surprised her instead. walking out of the studio, you wore no makeup, your hair was clipped up messily, and a snug t-shirt and sweatpants hugged your form perfectly.

(her eyes stayed on the curve of your torso for a little longer than she’d like to admit.)

minji froze for a moment, taking in how unraveled you looked; she was mesmerized.

“i didn’t think you’d be here early,” you said, your smile breaking her trance.

minji felt her stomach twist.

“wanted to surprise you,” she replied, earning a bigger smile in return. “you sound good.” she added, biting back the urge to tell you how good you looked.

“did i? ugh, i don’t know; i think i can do better. i’ll work on adjustments tomorrow.” you sighed, a familiar hint of perfectionism creeping into your voice. minji had always found it strange how you saw flaws in everything you did, despite your talents. you’ve always been like that even when you were fifteen, sixteen, and during the time you two were trainees together. “i bet you’ll do lovely, though.” you add, shaking the topic of you off.

“you think too highly of me,” minji chuckled, shaking her head. “my range is kind of iffy.”

“your voice suits anything, minji. i like how deep it is. it’s nice to the ears, really soothing.” you shrugged, glancing at the cap she wore—a dark gray with pink lettering. a small smirk tugged at your lips, almost imperceptible, but minji noticed. you pinched the brim, lifting it slightly to reveal more of her face before turning it backward and letting it sit like that on her head, a few strands of hair poking out from under to cover her eyes.

“is this new?” you ask, your surprise evident. you move the hair away from her eyes and minji swears she feels her legs wobble.

“um,” minji stammered, caught off guard and blushing slightly. “yeah.”

“it’s cute,” you mumble softly. “fits you well. i’ll see you later? what do you want for dinner? i’m cooking for us tonight.”

“uh, i, um. anything the members want—ask hyein.”

“okay.” you smiled again, walking past her but pausing to give her shoulder a gentle pat.

minji felt a rush of warmth from the brief contact, and as she stepped into the recording booth, she struggled to shake off the memory of your interaction. her mind lingered on your words and the way you looked at her, causing her to falter. the producer raised an eyebrow at her distraction, but once she shook it off, she found her rhythm, pouring her heart into the song.

—

if seeing you just after recording made her lose her balance, then just seeing you in every concept for the new album had completely swept her off her feet.

for “cool with you,” the stylists had dressed the members similarly, all with flowy white outfits. however, each members look was different. everyone looked amazing, but the stylist seemed to pay a lot of attention to you—at least in minji’s eyes— because they did you great.

your makeup wasn’t all that strong, just simple eyeshadow, light blush, and faint lip product. still, you looked ethereal. it seemed like you had jumped out of a fairytale movie, even the cameras for the “behind-the-scenes” recording had caught her staring.

minji laughs awkwardly after catching the camera in her peripheral, smiling to hide how flustered she is.

“y/n looks very pretty, doesn’t she?” minji says, “everyone does. i think the concept suits everyone well.”

the camera is still on her, she starts talking about how she feels about the shoot and the album. then minji feels someone creep up from behind, putting both hands on her shoulders and making her jump up. she turns her head slightly to meet some of your features, your gaze on the camera in front of you gives minji a good look at the side of your face.

“hi everyone!” you wave to the camera, then turn to your left, meeting minji. “hi minji.” you say softly, almost adoringly—minji might be a little insane for thinking there’s even a hint of adoration in your tone.

“hi y/n.”

“i like how they styled you,” you admit, “doesn’t she look wonderful?” you run your fingers through the hair falling down her shoulders. “your hair is so soft… ah, i love the accessories in your hair.”

minji tries her best to keep her cool, especially with the camera focused on both of you. you’re reaching out, playing with her clothes or gently tugging on strands of her hair. your fingers trace the edges of her accessories, and then, almost absentmindedly, you start to toy with her hands, admiring her nails like they’re the most fascinating thing in the world and boasting about it to your fans. at one point, your gaze locks with hers, and minji feels herself freeze for a second. your eyes are intense, filled with a warmth she can’t quite describe, something familiar and it makes her heart race. embarrassed, she laughs it off, looking away as though your compliments are nothing.

minji tries to return the favor, hoping to give you even a fraction of the feeling you’ve stirred in her. her knuckles brush lightly against your jaw, sending a soft tingle up your spine as she points out your earrings to the camera. her touch is brief, but intimate enough to make you hold your breath. then, without warning, you feel her fingers gently poking into your scalp, carefully lifting a section of your hair to admire its style. you don’t expect the sudden closeness, and your lips part slightly as heat rises to your cheeks.

she catches the change in your expression and feels a little proud, her own heart fluttering at the sight of your blush.

“i was just telling ‘bunnies’ about your look for today. i think it’s really beautiful.”

“do you?”

“mhm,” she nods, “i bet you’ll look wonderful during the choreography too. i’m excited to see the monitoring.”

“haha,” you chuckle awkwardly, “thanks.”

the staff stops recording and shoots a thumbs up to you two, which lifts a weight of your shoulders.

you two don’t share a word for a moment. you can’t really look at her for some reason, and neither can she, but thankfully hyein joins in and starts admiring the both of you.

—

day two of shooting is simply hours of posing for the photobooth. you’re set up for group shots, then some solos.

as you’re doing your solo’s, danielle pops up from behind the camera and starts throwing compliments at you.

“pretty girl~” she teases, “ooh la la~”

your stone-faced expression is replaced with amusement after the shoot ends. you let out the laughs you’ve been holding, getting up to teasingly hold onto danielle and then push her back.

“you’re so annoying,” you joke, walking away from her. “you’re so lucky i was close to finishing the shoot, i wouldn’t have been able to go on after.”

“sorry y/n-ie.” she apologizes, “i couldn’t help it.”

you roll your eyes, catching the camera that’s recording the interaction and giving it a dumbfounded look. you pout playfully before danielle jumps to your side and smiles as she hangs onto your arm, both of you giggling like idiots.

minji, who’s watching from afar, accidentally frowns. hanni notices this, considering minji is supposed to be taking a picture of her so she can update on ‘phoning.’

“what’s with the sad face?”

“what?” minji focuses on hanni again instead of the scene going on behind the younger member, readjusting her hand. “it’s just my resting face.”

“you’re not even taking the pictures properly.”

“i– i was thinking of something.” minji shrugs, “look here, let me snap a picture.”

but hanni doesn’t look back at the camera, instead turning around to catch you and danielle giggling about something. then she looks back at minji, who’s also looking in the same direction again, frown present.

“did something happen with either of them?”

“no, it’s nothing.” minji sighs, “you turned your head while i was taking the picture, let’s redo–”

“you weren’t paying attention when you took it.”

“hanni–”

“what’s going on?” hanni asks, brows creasing slightly. “is it y/n?”

“it’s nothing.” minji says firmly, putting the phone down now and giving up. “i think i’m going to go use the restroom.”

“nuh uh, no you’re not.” hanni grabs her wrist, squaring up with minji. “c’mon, what’s up?”

minji pauses, words failing her as she tries to piece together how to explain what’s been gnawing at her for weeks. how does she tell hanni that she’s jealous, jealous of the easy way you and danielle flirt without thinking twice about it? how does she admit that you’ve never really left her mind, that she still wakes up some days with her heart aching for you, despite all her efforts to push the feelings down? minji wonders how she could possibly confess that she hasn’t fallen out of love with you—not even close. in fact, she’s only fallen deeper, drawn to this new version of you that she wasn’t around to witness grow.

it hurts, more than she lets on, that she’s missed out on so much of your life. the pain of being cut off so suddenly still lingers, but at the same time, she’s proud of the sacrifices you made to debut. and it stings even more that you debuted alongside her, the constant proximity stirring up emotions she thought she had buried. she’s spent so many nights alone, thinking about you, about the two of you, wondering what went wrong and what could have been different.

hanni watches her, waiting for an answer, and minji shrugs, trying to mask the storm of emotions with something easier to swallow.

“i just feel like y/n and i have this… rift, i guess. as friends, i mean.”

“i don’t see anything wrong between you two,” hanni replies, clearly unconvinced.

“i don’t know… she’s just so relaxed with everyone else, like with danielle. they act like they’ve known each other forever, but with me, it’s different. it feels like something’s changed.”

“are you jealous?”

“no! no,” minji says quickly, shaking her head, though her voice betrays a hint of uncertainty. “it’s not that. i just don’t want anything rocky between us. everything’s fine with the others, but with her… it’s complicated.”

hanni gives her a knowing look. “if it helps, i think she looks up to you a lot. you’re both the oldest, and i feel like there’s a different kind of pressure on you two. maybe she’s just intimidated by how amazing you are. she talks about you all the time when we hang out, and i’ve seen her look at you from across the room more than once. i think you two need to talk or something.”

“she looks at me?”

hanni rolls her eyes. “is that seriously the only thing you took from that? you’re impossible.”

minji blushes, a quiet laugh escaping her, but hanni’s words stick with her. “no, but seriously,” hanni continues, “we’ve had some deep talks, a lot actually. she’s mentioned being scared that she’s not as good as you. she thinks you’re way out of her league, like you set this standard that’s hard to meet.”

minji’s quiet, the weight of hanni’s words sinking in. she glances over and catches your eye from across the room, both of you pausing for a split second before you smile. it’s a small, soft smile, the kind that leaves minji’s heart racing. she quickly looks away, flustered.

“i guess i’ll talk to her,” minji says, her voice softer now.

“you should. i mean, i’m not her, but that’s just my two cents—or won or whatever. you get what i mean.”

minji bites the inside of her lip, nodding slightly as she mulls over the thought of actually talking to you. it’s long overdue. too many things were left unsaid when you ended things, even the apology you gave her before debut didn’t cover it all. but the idea of confronting it all, of putting herself in that vulnerable position again, is terrifying.

maybe after the shoots, after the performances, after the album drops, she tells herself. more time to stall, more time to watch you from a distance, more time to get lost in her own confusion.

—

promotions aren’t done yet, but you’re close. you’ve just gotten back to korea after performing at lollapalooza, a memory that’ll surely be engraved in your mind.

as fun as it was, you’re exhausted, exhausted from everything and how often you were being put near minji.

as soon as you get back to the dorms, exhaustion pulls you straight to your bed. you barely make it onto the mattress before you collapse, landing flat on your back. your eyes are heavy from the long day of shooting for the ‘newjeans’ youtube channel, and within seconds, you drift off into sleep, your body giving in completely.

but when you wake up, you’re not in your bed anymore.

the air feels different, the scenery unfamiliar yet somehow recognizable. you blink, disoriented, as you take in the street around you. it feels like a memory—one deeply embedded in your mind. you look down and see your pinky linked with someone else’s, the warmth of their hand anchoring you. confused, you follow the connection, eyes tracing up their arm to their face. at first, the features are blurry, making you squint. and then it hits you, as clear as day.

it’s minji, but not the minji you know now. it’s sixteen-year-old minji.

your heart stutters in your chest. she looks exactly as she did back then, her bright smile lighting up her face. her eyes are wide and full of life, just like you remember from the night market where everything between you had changed. the place where you’d confessed to each other, turning a casual hangout into an unplanned first date.

“what’s wrong? you look a little pale,” minji says, tilting her head in concern, but there’s a playful lilt to her voice.

“minji?” you manage to say, your voice wavering. “what’s going on? you—this—”

“y/n, why are you acting weird?” she laughs softly, her hand sliding into yours, fingers intertwining easily. her thumb brushes lightly against your skin, a touch so familiar it makes your heart ache. “did you skip a meal again? i told you to eat before we came out here.”

her words are like a time capsule, pulling you back to when she’d always remind you to eat. even when she was drowning in her own trainee schedule, she’d send texts making sure you were taking care of yourself. back then, you were just friends. or maybe more, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“i—i have to go,” you stammer, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.

“again?” her smile fades into a frown, brows knitting in confusion as you pull your hand away from hers. “you’re leaving again? without explaining?”

“what?” your voice cracks.

“you’re always leaving me,” she says, her tone dropping. “are you ever going to stop?”

“minji,” you whisper, shutting your eyes against the guilt that washes over you. the regret is palpable, twisting in your stomach. “i didn’t want to, but i had to.”

when you open your eyes again, you’re somewhere else. the market is gone, and you’re left disoriented once more, thrown into another unfamiliar scene.

you’re on a couch now, rubbing your eyes as you sit up. the air smells sweet, like pancakes. your favorite—sundays at home, topped with fresh maple syrup. the scent guides you into the kitchen, where a girl is standing at the stove, her back turned to you. long, dark hair, pajama pants, a loose t-shirt.

she turns, and your heart nearly stops again. it’s minji.

but this time, she’s not sixteen. she’s the age she should be. the present minji. your minji.

“you alright, love?” she asks, concern in her voice as she turns the stove down and sets the spatula aside. she walks over, fingers gently fixing your messy bedhead. “bad nap?”

her touch is soft, her presence warm. she cups your cheek with one hand, her thumb brushing against your skin. “you looked a little shaken up.”

“i’m… no, i’m okay,” you lie, leaning into her touch for just a second. your eyes drift past her, trying to ground yourself. “are you making pancakes?”

“yeah,” she says shyly, her lips curling into a soft smile. “you mentioned missing home, so i thought i’d surprise you.” she presses a light kiss to the tip of your nose. “there’s a batch ready for you.”

“thank you,” you murmur, the words barely leaving your lips as a lump forms in your throat.

“anything for you, baby.” she takes your hand, leading you toward the stove where a plate sits—two pancakes perfectly stacked with raspberries and syrup. it’s thoughtful. so minji.

you love this, you love her. you never stopped loving her, you couldn’t ever do that. but instead of feeling warmth, you feel a pit growing in your stomach. something’s not right.

“this isn’t right,” you say, voice trembling as you put the plate down.

minji blinks, tilting her head in confusion. “what’s wrong? is it the pancakes?”

“not the pancakes,” you say, stepping back, your hands shaking. “this. none of this.”

she moves closer, concern deepening in her eyes, but you instinctively back away.

“y/n, what are you talking about?”

“this isn’t real,” you choke out, your voice breaking. “i don’t deserve this. minji, i broke up with you. this never happened.”

a tear slides down your cheek, your lip quivering uncontrollably as the weight of your words sinks in. “i’m sorry, minji. i’m so, so sorry. i keep doing this to you. i’m so sorry… i love you so much.”

minji’s expression mirrors the heartbreak from that day—the day you stood at her door, delivering the news that shattered everything between you. the pain you inflicted on her then, it’s all here now, reflected in her eyes.

before she can say anything, you turn, running toward the door, heart pounding in your chest.

…

you shoot up in bed, gasping for air. it takes a few moments before you realize where you are. blinking rapidly, you rub your eyes, trying to ground yourself in reality. you grab your phone, checking the notifications—something from your mom, and a random emoji from haerin in the group chat.

this is real. you're awake. it was just a dream.

it's one in the morning, and you're sitting on the edge of your bed, face buried in your hands. your eyes are shut tightly, trying to suppress the emotions that are threatening to surface. after a deep breath, you force yourself to stand, legs feeling unsteady but somehow keeping your balance. you make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, squinting as the brightness stings your eyes. you splash cold water onto your face, hoping to snap yourself out of the lingering shock. you stare into the mirror and the reflection looking back is someone you barely recognize—someone you can’t stand. your breath shakes, your brows furrow, and you hastily wipe the water from your face before switching off the light and heading toward the living room.

you stop in the kitchen first. grabbing a glass from the cabinet, your fingers hesitate when you realize it's the one minji gifted you for your first birthday together in the group. the memory flashes in your mind—you remember the shock on your face being caught on live stream, eyes wide when she handed you a clear glass with your favorite cartoon character on it. you can almost hear the laughter from that moment, but now it just feels heavy in your hands.

you fill the glass with water and take a sip, catching your distorted reflection in the stainless steel of the fridge. your hair’s a mess, faint lines under your eyes telling you that sleep hasn’t been kind. you lean your forehead against the cool surface of the fridge, closing your eyes and sighing deeply as exhaustion sets in even deeper.

"are you okay?" a voice comes from behind, making you jump and spill a bit of water onto the floor.

it’s minji—of course it’s minji.

"woah, hey, let me help you clean that—" she steps forward, concerned.

"i’m fine," you lie, shaking your head, waving her away as you kneel down to clean the small spill. "it’s just a few drops, don’t worry." you place the glass on the counter and grab the nearest paper towel, crouching down to wipe the floor quickly, feeling her eyes on you the entire time.

minji watches you closely, her expression soft yet concerned, taking in your restless, frantic movements.

"are you sure you’re alright?" she asks again, voice low, gentle.

"yeah," you breathe out quietly, still not meeting her gaze.

"why are you up this late?" she presses, stepping a little closer, her presence warm but heavy with concern.

you straighten up, tossing the paper towel in the trash. "i just had a… a strange dream."

"nightmare?" she asks softly, tilting her head.

"something like that." you try to brush it off, but you’re too tired to put much effort into sounding convincing. minji watches as you trudge over to the couch, your body language saying more than your words. you sit heavily, sipping your water before setting the glass down on the coffee table. leaning back against the cushions, you close your eyes, trying to sink into the silence, but it doesn’t bring comfort.

minji follows, sitting a few feet away, watching you, clearly wanting to understand. she can tell something’s off. "y/n," she says softly, her voice coaxing your eyes open, "is everything okay?"

you don’t respond right away, instead turning your head slightly to look at her. there’s something vulnerable in your eyes, a longing, a quiet ache. but you sigh, closing your eyes again, trying to swallow it all down.

"i’m sorry," you whisper after a beat.

"for what?" minji asks gently, scooting closer to you, her hand hovering over yours as if she’s not sure whether to reach for you or not.

"everything," you mutter, voice thick with regret. "minji, i’m sorry for everything."

she shifts even closer now, her hand softly covering yours, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "is this about…" she trails off, already knowing what you’re referring to.

"yeah," you say quietly, eyes still closed, voice tight. "i’m sorry. i’m so sorry." your voice breaks, and you finally open your eyes, but you can’t look at her. "you didn’t deserve what i did. i’m sorry i debuted with you, i’m sorry for all of it. god, minji, i’m so sorry."

"y/n," she breathes out softly, her hand gripping yours a little tighter now. "we were young. we didn’t know—"

"i didn’t want to break up with you," you blurt out, cutting her off. "my company… they saw my lockscreen. i’m so stupid. they made me break your heart." the words spill out, your voice raw and trembling. "you were never a burden. i never stopped loving you. seeing you now, after all this time, you’ve grown into this incredible person, and i… i can’t stop loving you. it’s killing me. i don’t deserve to love you after what i did. i tried to push it down, but i can’t. i hate myself for it." your breath catches in your throat, tears welling up as you force yourself to keep talking. "you’re so perfect. you’re everything i could never be."

"y/n, stop," minji pleads, her voice thick with emotion, but you pull your hand away, retreating from her touch.

"no, you don’t get it," you say, shaking your head. "you’re perfect, minji. i’m being compared to you every day, and i’m nothing like you. you’re the role model, you’re everything the group needs. and i’m just… i’m an asshole. i tried so hard to keep things casual, to pretend i was fine, but i’m not. i’m not fine. i’m still so in love with you that it hurts." you pause, voice faltering, barely holding it together. "i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry."

minji’s eyes fill with tears as she listens, her heart clearly breaking for you, for everything you’ve carried alone. she tries to pull you in again, to comfort you, but you push her away one last time, unable to accept the closeness.

and she doesn’t push further. she just watches, her heart breaking alongside yours.

a tear slips from her eyes, she’s looking at your trembling body and unstoppable flow of tears. minji shakes her head, opting for holding your hands instead, her fingers brushing against your knuckles.

“y/n, do you remember what i told you before?”

“what?”

“y/n i hated you for a good amount of time. but time made me realize that we were both just trying to reach our dreams, and if that meant you sacrificing us, then… i support you. i did support you. that never stopped me from loving you either.”

you stay silent and look at her through tear lined eyes.

“i tried to push down a lot, and it hurts to see that you’re hurting from doing the same thing as me. as your member, as your friend, and… as someone who loves you beyond measure: i don’t want you to hurt anymore. it’s okay, y/n, it’s okay.”

you let her pull you in this time, her tears stain your hair and her arms wrap around you so warmly that all you can do is succumb to the tenderness. you sob into her shoulder, muttering at least three more “i’m sorry’s” into her.

“y/n, what i said before still goes. ‘i love you. i love you when i’m exhausted from practice, i love you when i’m stressed over exams, i love you when we only have a few minutes together… i love you every moment of every day.’ i never stopped loving you ever.”

the memory echoes in your head, replaying the two times minji said it—both sincere, both heart-wrenching. you feel a little less terrible when her hands begin rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. you can hear the slight crack in her voice, the way she tries to stay strong for you because that’s who she is—someone who always holds it together for everyone else.

(“are you okay?” you’d asked her once, catching that brief shift in her expression, the kind she tried to hide.

you took a better look at her that day, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, the slight lag in her movements, like she was carrying something heavy. it took her a few seconds to force a smile, nodding as if everything was fine.

“yeah, sorry,” she said casually, quickly turning her attention back to her food. “just thinking.”

“minji,” you said her name softly, reaching out to place your hand over hers. she looked up at you, a little surprised, her cheeks flushing slightly. “tell me what’s going on.”

“it’s fine, i—” she started, but you cut her off with a raised brow, your expression making her shrink a little under your gaze. the warm glow of the restaurant’s evening lights illuminated her features, the soft orange hue catching the tiredness in her eyes. she pursed her lips, letting out a small sigh before admitting, “everything’s been really difficult lately. i’m losing energy. i feel like i’m not doing well. it’s just… i wish you could be there with me more. thinking about you is what gets me through practice. knowing i’ll see you, even just once or twice a week, pushes me to keep going.”

you didn’t say anything at first, just pushed your bowl of noodles across the table towards her before standing up and sitting beside her instead of across. she looked at you, confused, but you reached for her hand again, holding it in both of yours as you gazed at her with all the love and understanding you felt.

“you’re always doing great, minji. no one’s doing it like you,” you said, voice soft but certain.

“really?” her voice was small, like she wasn’t sure if she should believe you.

“of course,” you reassured her, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the side of her head before pulling back. “i’ve been feeling the same way. just the thought of you keeps me going. let’s be each other’s push, okay?”

minji’s face softened, her lips curving into a small smile. she nodded before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

“okay,” she whispered.)

as you sit here now, her hands still rubbing comforting circles on your back, the memory feels bittersweet. she’s always been there for you, even when you couldn’t be there for her.

minji holds you close, her arms tight around you like she’s afraid you’ll slip away if she lets go. you bury your face deeper into the crook of her neck, your own arms wrapped around her, clinging like she’s your anchor.

“you’ve always been my push,” minji says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “that’s never changed.”

she pulls back gently, lifting your head and brushing away the strands of hair that have stuck to your tear-streaked face. her own eyes are glassy, but she smiles through the tears, looking at you in a way that makes her feel exposed, vulnerable—like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“can we try again?” you ask, voice trembling with hope and hesitation.

she blinks, heart racing. the weight of your question settles in the air, heavy and fragile.

“of course,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “that’s all i’ve wanted.”

time seems to freeze, the air still around you as your eyes lock. it feels like you’re both sixteen again, standing in that alleyway after a long night at the street market, except this time it’s different. now you’re on the couch, in the dorm you both share because you made it—you both made it. you two achieved your dreams. but there’s always been something missing: each other.

minji cups your cheek, just like she did back then, but her touch is softer now, more tender, more vulnerable. her thumb strokes your skin as she leans in slowly, her eyes fluttering shut before her lips meet yours. it’s gentle, delicate, like she’s afraid you’ll crumble under the weight of her affection. your hand instinctively moves to rest atop hers, feeling the warmth of her knuckles against your cold skin. the kiss is soft, laced with the remnants of tears, but somehow it tastes sweet. everything you’ve been holding onto—all the fear, all the doubt—seems to melt away in that moment.

you pull back first, though only just. your lips hover near hers, close enough to feel her breath.

“i love you, minji,” you say, voice low but firm. “i’m never going to make you doubt that again.”

her eyes soften, and she brings her hand to the nape of your neck, pulling you in again. “i love you too, y/n,” she whispers, before pressing her lips to yours once more, this time with a little more certainty, a little more sweetness. like you’ve both finally found what you’ve been missing.

—

hyein stumbles into the living room, rubbing her eyes, not fully awake yet. she groans, dragging her feet toward the kitchen, but stops mid-step when she spots two familiar heads peeking out from the couch. her sleepy eyes narrow as she tries to make sense of what she’s seeing. the sight takes a moment to register, and when it finally does, a sleepy smile creeps onto her face.

you and minji are tangled together on the couch in what looks like an awkward but oddly comfortable position. your head is resting on her shoulder, one arm lazily draped over her, your hand clasped loosely with hers. minji’s other arm is wrapped around you protectively, her head tilted at an angle that looks uncomfortable, but somehow it balances out with the way yours is twisted. the corner of the couch has you two nestled in tight, looking cozy in your pajamas, mouths parted slightly, both of your eyes a little puffy from sleep—a little too puffy to be from sleep. hyein stares, completely baffled at how you both ended up like this.

haerin is the next to wake up, and she spots hyein standing by the couch, phone in hand, snapping a picture. haerin yawns as she saunters over, her head tilting like a curious cat when she catches sight of you two. her brows furrow, and before she can even ask, your head slips, falling from minji’s shoulder and landing in her lap. your torso twists in an awkward, almost painful-looking angle, but minji instinctively shifts, scooting over to make room and pulling you closer, making sure you’re both comfortable without even waking up.

"what’s with them?" haerin asks, her voice low and groggy, her eyes narrowing at her oldest members.

"dunno," hyein shrugs, amused. "i’ve never seen them this close."

"me neither."

before they can figure out what’s going on, hanni and danielle stroll in, spotting the younger girls gathered by the couch. curiosity piqued, they walk over to see what’s going on, and as soon as they do, their eyes widen in surprise. a grin spreads across hanni’s face, and she wastes no time whipping out her phone to capture the moment. she quickly airdrops the photo to danielle, who giggles as she looks down at her phone, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"what’s up with the parents?" hanni teases, barely able to hold back a laugh.

"parents?" haerin repeats, raising an eyebrow.

"just look at them."

you and minji remain tangled together, still sound asleep despite the odd position, yet somehow, you both look peaceful, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. your head rests in minji’s lap now, her hand still protectively holding yours, the two of you fitting together as if you’ve always been like this.

hyein and haerin exchange glances, amused but confused, while hanni and danielle quietly snicker like children who’ve stumbled onto something they weren’t supposed to see.

—

the next few weeks with promotions still going on postpones the time you get to explain everything to your members. but eventually you and minji sit down with them in the living room, going over the whole timeline of events and earning a variety of reactions.

your members gather around, all seated in the living room, eyes trained on you and minji. there’s a tense sort of anticipation in the air, the kind that comes with heavy conversations. you and minji exchange a glance before diving into the timeline of everything— how it started, how it fell apart, and now, how you’ve found your way back to each other. each word feels like you’re lifting a piece of the weight that’s been suffocating you both for so long.

the reactions from your members are immediate. there are lots of “ohhhh”s and “ahhhhs” as they start piecing things together, understanding slowly dawning on their faces. you see nods of realization, and even though some of the details are painful, they listen intently, faces softened with sympathy. they admit they’d sensed something was off but had never wanted to pry, giving you both the space they thought you needed. now, knowing the full story, their expressions shift to one of collective empathy, eyes filled with a kind of pity and concern.

you and minji sit close, your hands intertwined, a subtle reassurance to each other that it’s okay to finally share this. as you speak, minji’s thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, grounding you when the memories become too much. the frowns deepen as you recount the harder parts—the breakup, the misunderstandings, and the silent pain you both carried alone. but there’s also relief. it’s evident in the way your members nod along, like everything makes sense now. they’ve always had your backs, and now it feels like they’re rooting for you even harder.

"we never wanted to push," hanni finally says, her voice soft, almost apologetic. "we figured you two just needed time."

danielle nods along, her eyes a little glossy, while haerin sits quietly, processing it all. hyein, surprisingly, offers a small smile, "i’m glad you guys worked it out."

you and minji exchange another look, this time a lighter one. something close to peace settles over you both, like a burden’s been lifted now that the truth is out there. it feels good to be understood, to no longer have to hide the past or the pain from the people closest to you.

this isn’t like before—and that’s a good thing. there’s no going back to what was, because now you’re both different, stronger, and this version of “normal” is something you’d choose over and over again. you’ll grow alongside minji, hand in hand, side by side, and she’ll be growing with you too.

you wouldn’t trade anything in the world for this.

—-

"you called?"

“texted, but close enough,” you respond with a smirk. minji rolls her eyes playfully before plopping onto your bed, looking at you curiously.

“did you need something?” she asks, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

“i just remembered something,” you say, moving toward the bed. “i wanted to show you it—give it to you before your shoot. you said you had to leave in twenty, right? well, i found this while i was organizing things."

“what is it?” she asks, her curiosity piqued. her eyes follow your movements as you crouch down, pulling a slightly worn shoe box from under the bed.

you smile as you open the lid, revealing a collection of small mementos—photos, letters, and trinkets that instantly stir up memories for both of you. minji leans closer, her eyes widening slightly when she recognizes some of the items.

“i never threw anything out,” you explain, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “i couldn’t. i remember you gave me two copies of this because you couldn’t keep one at your place while we were both trainees. i’ve always kept it… never really looked at it after everything, though… after i…”

your voice trails off, the weight of that unfinished sentence hanging in the air. minji, understanding without needing an explanation, moves from the bed and sits beside you on the floor. her shoulder presses against yours, a silent comfort.

you reach into the box, pulling out a photo strip. it’s from one of your dates, back when things were simpler, when everything felt new. you flip it over, revealing four small photos in sequence. the first has your cheeks pressed together, wide smiles on both your faces. in the second, you’re both forming a heart with your hands. the third shows minji kissing your cheek, and the last one has you kissing hers. your smile deepens as you hand it to her.

minji stares at the strip, her fingers lightly tracing the edges of the photos. her expression softens, caught between disbelief and tenderness. you two were so young back then, but the love captured in the pictures is unmistakable—just like the love that still exists between you now. she glances at you, her gaze full of warmth.

“now you can keep it,” you say, voice gentle, “without worrying about anyone taking it from you.”

“y/n…” minji whispers, her voice so quiet, so filled with awe. she hugs you tightly, and before you know it, she's covering your face with kisses, one after the other, until finally, she presses her lips to yours in a long, tender kiss that feels like everything you've been holding back for so long.

“i seriously love you so much,” she breathes out when she pulls away, her forehead resting against yours.

“i love you more,” you reply, grinning.

“more than timbits?” she teases, raising a brow.

you giggle, poking her cheek. “don’t get ahead of yourself now.”

#kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #newjeans minji #kim minji #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #newjeans imagines #minji imagines

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ibetonlosinghuskies · 3 months

Text

patience and pleasure pt 2

summary: paige and azzi struggle with their unspoken feelings towards each other leading up to their last game.

warnings: slight angst, suggestive language.

disclaimer: everything i write is a work of fiction, any and all similarities to real life is not intentional!

word count: 1.6k +

author’s note: thank you for all the love on pt 1, i love y’all sm!! 💕

paige's pov:

of course i had my makeup bag. it never leaves my backpack actually.

azzi had only done my makeup a few times before, and it really does look better when she does it. but that's not the reason i asked her.

i've known azzi's signature lip gloss since we were sixteen. i've lost count of how many tubes i've gone through myself, telling myself it was just because i liked the flavor. but deep down, i knew.

the shade, the shine, the scent, it all belonged to her.

i guess i just wanted her on my lips.

something about the way she put it on me made my stomach flip.

azzi always gets this really serious look on her face when she was focused. it's especially apparent when she's on the court. once i see her put that face on, god bless anyone who comes in her way.

her consistency followed her off the court also. her fixed gaze on my lips when she applied my makeup. immersed in her own concentration, i took the time to study her.

i knew pretending to "forget" my makeup bag would give me time to admire her. as this being our last game, i don't know how many of these moments we have left.

and just when i had my opportunity...i froze. being with azzi sometimes made it feel like time was standing still. but this, this was different.

i'm still not over it. her lips meeting my skin, her soft breath against my face, the smell of her perfume.

i could melt in her arms if she let me.

following her out of tunnel, i licked a bit of her lip gloss off the side of my mouth.

that's one way to taste her.

lazily, i let my eyes outline her body as she walked with a swift confidence.

i can't believe i left her clueless. my sweet, shy girl finally made a move and i gave her nothing??

i need to say something to her, but my mind is blank, tongue-tied by the weight of her kiss.

azzi's pov:

i sped out of the tunnel trying not to think about how awkward i was. paige trails behind me, walking a bit faster to try to keep my pace.

i can't believe myself. i've gone years without acting on these types of thoughts. and now, on our last game and i went and made it awkward. what if i made her uncomfortable? and here i was calling her the softie...

just then, i get that familiar feeling—the same one i get when paige is about to pass to me on the court. even when she's not looking, i can feel her burn for me. i know she’s about to say something, i can almost feel the words form on her lips.

i reach the end of the tunnel, where fans scream and whistle. finally catching up, paige walks shoulder to shoulder with me.

the sound of shoe soles on the court, chirping like morning birds. booming chants and whistles blend together in an overwhelming mass. herds of fans reach for her, arms outstretched in longing. the amount of times they chant her name, it starts to feel like it's not even a real word anymore. their rhythmic chorus engulfing everything around us.

my gaze shifts to her face. and just like that—everything stops.

the same noise that was pulsing through me just moments ago quiets to a soft hum. but with the look on paige's face, you'd think she couldn’t even hear them at all. a slight smile across her lips, the kind of smile you’d miss if you blinked. her eyes flicker across my face as if searching for something.

paige's pov:

every time i look at azzi it's like seeing her for the first time.

my ribs cave in like a dying star, heartbeat pounding. my body sings for her.

her beauty is devastating. it wrecks me every time.

she parts her lips slightly when she catches me staring. all i can hear is the stillness in her breath. soothing like a lullaby, she inhales sharply pulling me in with just a breath.

i quickly shift my gaze the crowd before she can meet my eyes.

“PAIGE, OVER HERE. I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN,” a college aged girl shouts.

i look up to see a girl decked out in head-to-toe uconn merch. my jersey across her chest as she leans down to me.

i absolutely adore my fans, it gets exhausting at times but i’d never let them see it.

i reach up to sign the girl's jersey. she’s rambling about something but i’m only thinking about how azzi is standing right behind us. i feel bad for being inattentive but i don’t want to waste a minute tonight not looking at her.

especially not when she looks this good.

as an apology, i shoot the girl a wink as i hand the marker back. “thanks for coming, ‘preciate it,” i say to her.

eagerly, i turn to find azzi, but she’s already at the bench.

god, i hope she isn’t still worried about what happened in the locker room. why didn't i say anything to her?

once i reach the bench, i quickly scan her face. i’ve studied her for years, i could recall every dimple, every scar, every freckle. our teammates think azzi is hard to read, but i think she pretty transparent if you know her well enough.

her discipline shows in her demeanor, with a stoic expression.

this time, though, it’s different. this isn’t her normal look, something’s bothering her. she's blinking faster than normal, her eyes darting from viewpoint to viewpoint, unsure where to land. i'm desperate to soothe her, to fix this.

i take a seat next to her on the bench as geno goes over plays. luckily, he’s facing one of my teammates to explain something so i take the opportunity to inch my hand closer to hers. hyperfocused on the small space between us, i finally meet her skin. the muscles in my hand go slack when i feel her.

i give in so easily to her, my god.

my pinky traces the familiar ridges of her knuckles. i can draw the lines on her hands from memory. a heat builds in my fingertips, i need more.

i brush my pinky finger against hers to attempt to soothe whatever she’s thinking about.

c'mon azzi, look at me. get out of your head.

her finger twitches slightly underneath mine.

was that intentional?

i search her expression like it will give me the answer. i look closely for a small smile, a furrowing of her eyebrows, a slower blink.

something, azzi, give me something.

i feel inebriated by my own desperation, but i swear i see her eyes soften for a moment. but still, she’s not here. whatever she’s thinking about, she’s in it deep.

i feel the muscles in her hand relax, and she lets me sink further, slightly interlacing our fingers. finally giving me an inch of surrender. before i can get a grip on her hand, geno turns around. with a swiftness that stings, azzi snaps her hand back into her lap.

i have to take a moment to adjust from her absence. her warmth slowly leaves my hand and i swear i feel my bones ache for her.

azzi’s pov:

paige reaches up to sign her jersey, resting a hand respectfully atop the girls chest.

a jealousy submerges my mind as i watch, flooding my veins. it's instinctive and all-consuming. i hate the way i want to pull them apart. knees locked, i'm paralyzed by my own envy, choking on words i have no right to say.

you’d think i’d be accustomed to this by now but i’m not. paige is so deserving of all the love she gets from her fans. they see a small part of what i’ve seen in her since we were fifteen. but that’s the part of her i don’t want to share.

sometimes i just wish i could have her all to myself. i know she’s not even mine to keep.

i take a deep breath and try to control my expressions but i break when i see her wink at the girl. my brow creases slightly and i feel my breath stop. my face must have reflected my anger because the girl looks at me confused.

i snap my eyes to the floor and speed walk towards the bench.

i was so stupid for thinking that i could have her. i’ll always have to share her with the world. there’s so much of her to love, i was foolish to think i could handle the weight of fully knowing her.

when she meets me at the bench, i feel her eyes draw patterns around my face.

i need to get these silly thoughts out of my mind. i’ve been able to control myself for years when i thought about her like this. i know better…i just need to-

my thoughts cease when i feel her pinky finger brush over my knuckles. her delicate touch. she's cautious with me like she's approaching a wild animal.

my first instinct is to grab her hand entirely, to plead for more. i freeze caught between wanting to pull away or never let go. my body betrays me and my finger twitches underneath hers.

i can’t let myself get attached to her. i’ll be playing this game forever. i can’t handle the pressure of sharing her with everyone.

i feel her fingers sway across my knuckles like tree branches in the wind. i fight the urge to let her kind touch sedate me. but despite my best efforts, muscles start to relax.

is this girl trying to kill me? she’s playing with me. really, i know how she is. i can’t let myself get my hopes up.

when i see geno turn back to face us, i snap my hand back into my lap.

no attachments, i need to keep it casual.

#Spotify #pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #chappell roan #i bet on losing huskies

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

The Sun - Epilogue

Sassy series

Simon Riley/female reader 1.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI explicit sex, brief breeding kink. PTSD. dad!Simon Riley. Fluff. Pregnancy/babies. Hospitals. Little epilogue for Sass and Simon.

“Alright lad, ready?”

Theo nods, hopping from one foot to another before gazing up at Simon, little hand clasped firm in the much bigger one. He’s brimming with energy, overflowing with happiness and giggles, besides himself, thrilled at finally being here.

The elevator dings, doors sliding open to reveal a cream colored hallway, and Simon crouches in front of his son, knees popping on the descent, body groaning beneath the pressure added to his hips.

“Now, mum is really tired, alright? So, we can’t be yelling and carrying on.”

“Inside voice.” Theo’s brow smooths into a serious expression, and he can’t help the smile that quirks his lips to the side inside the mask.

“That’s right.”

“And my sister?” His eyes widen with excitement, and Simon nods.

“She’s probably sleepin’ but we’ll see.”

“Mr. Riley, it’s good to see you again.” Your doctor nods politely, and he does the same, more focused on the little black screen opposite you, where he’s going to see an image of the baby, your baby, his, in a matter of moments.

It flickers alive as the tech places the wand against your belly, and the harmonic, hypnotizing sound of the heartbeat fills the room.

His shoulders immediately ease, the grip he has your hand relaxing too, and he can’t help leaning forward to press his mask covered lips against yours.

“See?” He gestures to the screen. “Heartbeat.” You huff out a half-relieved laugh and wipe your cheeks. You don’t have to say anything, he knows. Knows why you’ve been up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. Knows why you’ve been anxiously smoothing your hands over your skin, feeling for kicks and movement. Knows that you’re terrified, tormented. Knows that you’re clinging to the good things. Theo. Him. This baby. That you’re trying, and it’s hard.

“Baby is measuring perfectly, and everything looks normal.” Your doctor says, before pausing. “Would you like to know the sex?”

“Yes.” You both answer at once, and she smiles, taking the wand from the tech’s hand and positioning it on a different side of your body, pausing for a moment to type something into a keyboard before looking back at you.

"Looks like baby Riley is a girl.”

“Mum!” Theo half whispers, half yells when Simon opens the door, and he reaches for the back of his jumper in a hurry, trying to prevent him from taking off into a run and launching himself at where you lay in the hospital bed.

“Hey bug.” You smile, waving him over, trying to shuffle to the side to make room for him. “Come here, baby. I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Is it my sister?” He can hardly contain the whisper, and Simon lifts him to the foot of the bed before coming around the other side.

“Let me take her so you can get him comfortable.” You nod, trading one child for the other, motioning to the side of your hip for Theo to scoot over to.

“Can I hold her?”

“Of course, but can I have a hug first?” Theo pats you like he’s consoling you, which Simon finds somewhat amusing, before latching on.

“Daddy said I have to be gentle with you and baby sister.”

“That’s very sweet.” You look up at Simon as Theo wraps his arms around your neck, and he smiles down at you. You’re glowing, even though you’re exhausted, having just finished a sixteen-hour labor and a tumultuous birth experience.

“Sit right here, that’s good.” You position your grip under his. “Alright, now dad is going to put her right here, and we have to support her head, okay? She’s so small, remember.” He nods very seriously, and then Simon lowers the little girl into his arms, carefully.

When he pulls back, and stares down at the picture of you, his wife, and his son, holding his daughter, it’s almost too much. His thumb swipes under his eyes quickly, trying to erase the evidence of his emotions, but he can’t control them when you kiss Theo’s head and then whisper:

“Theo, this is your sister. Josephine.”

“Ready?” His face hovers above yours, watching your expression, waiting for anything, anything at all, that would tell him that this isn’t a good idea. Or that’s he’s dreaming.

“Yes.” You nod with no hesitation, fingers skating down his abdomen to encircle his cock, notching it against the heat of your cunt. “Please, Si. I’m ready. I want to have your baby again.” He picks his pace back up, body pressing against yours over and over as you cry out.

“Bloody hell.” He groans into your neck, tongue lashing against your salt slick skin when he pushes deep, kissing the depths of your body, burrowing himself against your cervix. Your hips jolt, raising to meet his movements, desperate whines falling from your lips, small pleas for ‘more, faster, more-‘ being gasped to the ceiling as your back arches.

“Sweet girl.” His thumb presses against your clit, playing it like second nature. “Come for me, let me feel it.” You nod feverishly, eyes tight and brows high, mouth half open with slack while your pussy clenches around him. It’s heaven, perfection, the only place he ever wants to be, and he nearly comes when he thinks about this attempt taking, your body swollen with him in a few months, breasts heavy, his girl, his wife, having his baby, again.

“Fuck.” You moan, and he thrusts harder, deeper.

“Gonna give you another baby, Sass. Gonna-“ he grunts when you react, tightening around him “fill you up, over and over until it takes.”

“Please, fuck. Please.” You whine, and then you explode into an orgasm, body shivering beneath his, knees pressed up and out while he plunges deeper and deeper, slamming himself to the hilt and coming against the curve of your womb, locking his hips against yours to keep it all in.

Simon doesn’t sleep that night.

He stays up, watching you and the baby, memorizing her face over and over and until he’s sure it’s burned into the back of his eyelids. He sits as close as he can, keeping a palm on your thigh, your hand, comforting you with soft words and gentle touch every time you jerk awake in a panic.

It’s not been an easy thing for either of them, being back in a hospital.

In this hospital.

But you’re strong, stronger than him, resilient, and smart. You’ve handled it, like you didn’t have a choice, and he’s so, so proud, he's been incredibly enchanted by you every moment of this entire process.

You’re everything. His entire world. His entire reason. Without you, he's rudderless. He's lost.

This hospital likes to remind him of that. Likes to dredge up the things he's tried to blot from his mind, the memories of your cries, your screams. The aftermath.

He strokes the metal of his wedding band.

“I will love and honor you all the days of my life.”

He can still hear it, your voice, saying the words. His own, saying them back. His vow, for eternity. His promise.

Those are the words he focuses on, when the others get too loud.

"I got you."

You’re the sun.

Josephine, or JJ, as you’ve been calling her, cries out, and he reaches into the bassinet, pulling her into his arms without hesitation.

“Hey little girl, you’re alright. I’m here.” He coos, rocking her against himself, walking away from the bed towards the window. She fusses in his arms for a while until he gets the bottle right, and then quiets immediately, drinking half of it until her eyes are slipping closed again.

His lips graze the top of her head, carefully, before placing her back on her little mattress, and your hand reaches for his in the low light.

He leans forward, kisses you in the same spot, lips against your forehead, easy and sweet.

“Si?” You whisper, not really with it, but awake enough to realize he had been up, and he lowers his head onto the bed bedside you, staring over to where your own eyelids are drooping back asleep.

He presses your pulse point to his mouth, dragging a kiss along your wrist languidly, soaking in every second.

“I’m here, Sass. I got you.”

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #sassy series #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley

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aliceismypixie · 1 year

Note

Please can you so a jasper x reader where the cullens and Bella all think that the reader or oc isn't good enough for jasper so jasper and the oc or reader elope and the cullens meet them again you can make the rest up.....

Can you please tag me if possible if you end up writing this weird story idea thats keeping me up at night

Thank you

Let's run away together

Pairing - Jasper x human!reader

Pronoun - She/her

Warning - No proof read, meantion of blood bag (vampire stuff yk yk), light swearing, Jasper gets mad but no Major

Words count - Too lazy to count y'all will have to do with it

Set - After Eclipse to after Breaking Dawn

Main Masterlist - Characters Masterlist

"Let's run away together."

These were the words Jasper told you a few years ago. You met each other at school, you were sixteen, almost seventeen, and he was supposed to be eighteen. You arrived in the middle of the semester of senior year. Due to you amazing intellect, you were a year advanced and you found yourself in the same english literature class as him.

"Alright class, we have a new student joining us for the rest of the year." Mrs. Danvers told and you entered the class.

The sound of your heels click-clacked on the ground as you entered in the class, a low waisted blue jean along with a black off shoulder with pale pink furr at the top. Your hand bag in your right hand was made of pale pink furr to match your top and your school hand bag was around your left shoulder. You had a golden necklace with a heart locket, a bunch of golden bracelet around both wrists and very rosy cheek. Overall you guessed ut, you looked like the perfect mean, fake and plastic girl.

"Hi, I'm Y/n L/n/n I moved here from New York and I'm sixteen, almost seventeen." Your voice was sweet like honey and suddenly every boys of the class were drooling.

"Thank you miss. Y/n/n you can sit beside Longbottom." The teacher told and a red head boy quickly rose his hand to the annoyance of the rest of the class. The girls because you were competition, and the boys they were jealous.

As you reached your sit, you saw your new sitmate move the chair for you and you widened your eyes a little before letting out a soft giggle. At this sound every boys of the class awwed while the girls huffed as you sat down.

From the back of the class, Jasper heard his brother, Edward, scoff before rolling his eyes and the blond empath looked at you once again. He didn't knew why but he couldn't feel anything from you. He was curious, because he couldn't feel anything from you but you weren't numb either. It was as if you were feeling something but you weren't. Then Jasper realize that in fact you were feeling something, he was the one not feeling anything anymore. From the moment you stepped inside of the classroom, everyone else's emotions disappeared and only your calm state stayed. At the end of the class, Jasper wanted to greet you, only to be blocked by a bunch of boy running to carry your bag or propose you a bunch of snack and you disappeared between the hue of students.

The next time Jasper saw you it was at lunch. At first he didn't notice you, but when Bella's akwardness toward Mike and Carter's love sick feeling for Alice suddenly disappear, Jasper couldn't help but look up. And there you were, surrounded by a bunch of guys as they were holding your bag, trail of food or handing you some homeworks to copy.

"Please not the new girl." Jessica groaned and everyone at the table looked toward you.

"I had a class with her this morning. I heard that her father was the CEO of a car company that was moving here. She is so spoiled, in class she almost crying because Jane took her notebook and wouldn't give it back when she asked." Jessica started her daily gossip and Edward rolled his eyes.

"She can't fool just anyone with that smile." The mind reader huffed as you passed beside their table.

"Hey Y/n !" Mike grinned like a lost puppy and you looked up from your pink cell phone toward the sound.

"Oh hey, Micheal right ? In spanish ?" You tilted your head and Jasper suddenly felt like his dead heart skipped a bit.

"It's Mike actually... but it's fine ! Wanna sit with us ?" The boy grinned and you looked around the table.

Then there was a silence as you glanced at everyone, noticing their rather annoyed or uneasy expression on their face before that your e/c eyes met his golden eyes. It was as if the world stopped, you held your breath in aww as you looked at his golden lock and his sharp jawline. He had a pale skin, very pale, like three other people at the table but his looked the best of them all. His golden orbs were shining due to the light of the cantine and you couldn't help but want to press your pink glossed lips over his.

"Y/n ?" Mike called and you snapped out of your trance, looking back at him with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry. But I don't think I'll sit here." You walked away and the group could here the boys bombarding you with invitation to lunch as you went to the back of the cantine.

"Shoot ! Man ! It's your weird hair that scared her !" Eric teased and the two boys started to bicker.

"She doesn't seem that bad...?" Angela hesitated and Carter passed his arm around Alice's shoulders who looked tense.

"I don't think we should be friend her." The petite vampire expressed and Jasper frowned.

"Why ?" He asked and Alice shared a glance at Edward before looking back at her untouched trail of food.

"Just because."

After this day Jasper would see you everywhere, in the corridor, the parking lot, in class, he even saw you in the forest a few time, by a lake that flowed close to the town. Yet even with Alice and Edward's warning he couldn't help but want to see you. Whenever you were around, he would feel at peace. So he started to chance his path at school, passing by your locker so you would be near by, waiting until you start to head inside to head in english, parking his car near yours every morning. He wanted to be beside you as much as possible but still respect your boundaries.

"Alright class ! Today we'll start a few group project about the book rode in class. You will be paired up by two and work on a presentation of one of the book we studied in class." Mrs. Danvers announced and you looked up from your pink fluffy notebook.

"Before anyone ask. I am making the group and I want no complaining." The teacher told and everyone groaned in annoyance.

"I said no complaining ! Alright now let's form the group." The brunette teacher announced and started to name a few people of the class.

You weren't expecting anything. You would go along with anyone. You just hoped that you wouldn't be paired with Edward Cullen or Jasper Hale, even if he was handsome, because strangely enough, their entire family and himself hated you for some reasons.

"Tonny and Mark." Mrs. Danvers told and Tonny, your sitmate, groaned.

"Sad we could have been together !" He told you and you sent him a half sad smile.

"That's unfortunate." You replied and he slouched on his chair.

"Y/n and Jasper." The teacher announced and you felt your blood run cold.

Turning around toward the said blond, you ignored the whine of the boys and your eyes locked with his for the second time since you moved here. You couldn't read him. You didn't knew if he felt happy or horrified that he was paired up with you. Yet you knew that it was definitly not going to well between the two of you. He hated you for whatever reason and your father hated boys in general.

At the end of the class, you went to your locker, followed by your usual among of boys and put your english stuff in your locker before seeing Jasper approching you from afar. You quickly told the four boys around you to go and fixed your high poney tail before that the godlike blond stops before you.

"Hey." Jasper greeted you and you sent him a shy smile with a tiny wave.

"Hey, Jasper right ?" You asked. It was a habit of yours, always checking if you had their name correctluy first.

"Right, and you're Y/n right ?" He asked back even if he knew it.

"Right, that's me." You let out a shy, uneasy laugh and the boy smiled softly.

"So for the english project, are we doing it at your house or mine ?" Jasper asked and you frowned slightly.

"Cloud we do it at yours ? My father isn't really happy when I bring someone home, especially when it's a boy you know." You looked and away and Jasper nodded.

"Right okay. So this afternoon at mine ?" He clarified and you nodded quickly.

"Yes ! This afternoon, at yours !" You confirmed with an excited shime in your eyes and Jasper chuckled.

You were cute. He could feel how excited you were. He didn't knew if it was because you wanted to work of if it was because you would get to see his house, or even if it was because you wanted to spend some time with him, but he hoped it was the later, because he couldn't wait to spend some time with you.

So for the rest of the afternoon he waited patiebtly for the end of class to arrive and once he finished his biology class, he quickly made his way to the parking lot, seeing you already waiting by your car.

"Hey !" You greeted and he smiled a little.

"Hey, ready to go ?" Jasper asked and you nodded closing your cell phone before putting it in your hand bag.

Luckily, today your father was the one to drop you off at school which mean you didn't need ton follow Jasper in your car but could simply ride with him to his house. On the way there, the two of you had a short discussion. You discovered that he had two more sibling as a plus of Edward, Carter and Alice and that they liked to go hiking on sun days. You learned that the loved to have game nights when everyone was at home and you couldn't help but smile at the way he was talking about his family with such a big smile on his face.

"What about you ? Anything to share ?" Jasper offered and you thought, your eyes drifting to the scenery around you.

"Well, my mother dies when I was seven, since then I live with my father. In contrary of what people could think, he's a very present father even if he's busy with work. Sometimes, when he comes home, we have a few dinner together and we always share a few joke. He loves to bake so whenever we can' we're baking together ! We also paint a lot together, whivh you saw me a bunch of time by the river painting the scenery." You grinned and Jasper's eyes widened.

"How do you know that I see you ?" The golden eyes boy questioned and you giggled.

"You're not very well hidden by the trees you know ?" You teased and if he could, Jasper would have blush in embarrassement.

"It's okay, you can join me next time Jaz." You giggled before realizing how you called him.

"I mean-"

"It's alright. You can call me that." Jasper cut your apologize and you mirrored his smile.

"Alright." You looked back at the road as a soft music was playing from the radio.

You couldn't wait to know him more.

Then you and Jasper got closer. At first it was only a few shy 'hi' or tiny waves but after two weeks on working on your project together, Jasper would pick you up everyday, and bring you home everyday. At first your father didn't like it, but he came around eventually. After three weeks of hanging out together, Jasper told you that he was a vampire. He knew it was dangerous but when you squealed and told him how cool this was, the empath couldn't help but love you even more.

"You can't be serious ?" Edward glared and Jasper huffed.

"Yes I am, I don't see why Bella could have dinner with us but Y/n can't." The empath replied angrily.

"Come on, you should have told us sooner, Esme didn't cook enough for two ! And Alice already told you to not hang out with that girl ! She is dangerous !" The golden brunette scolded.

"We all know that Bella never eat everything Esme made and no Y/n is not ! No one of you even tried to befriend her ! And what did you even see to be so reculant into meeting her ?" Jasper glared toward his sister.

"Jasper don't talk to your sister like that !" Esme stepped in and the blond rolled his eyes.

He had enough. Everytime you would come to his house for the english project, his family would say rude comment regarding you. From the way you dress for Alice to your weak looking body from Emmett to your parfum from Rosalie, they were always criticizing you somehow and each time Jasper could feel how it upset you or made you sad. He had enough of it.

"What did Alice see for you all to be so rude with Y/n !? Even you are Esme when we know that you are the sweetest woman on walking on Earth !" Jasper pointed out and the rest of the family stayed silent. Even Bella was there and she looked incredibly uncomfortable.

Then Emmett moved to open the door, revealing your figure about to knock at the door. He boy shoot you a tiny glare and you sent him an uneasy smile with a hint of fear.

"How long have you been standing there ?" The bearlike vampire asked and you shifted nervously under his gaze.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to overheard anything but then I heard shouting and I didn't want to knock in the middle of an argument. I can leave if you-"

"Yes."

"No." Jasper glared at Rosalie, who rolled her eyes, before sitting and joining you at the entrance.

Looking at you, Jasper frowned a little as he notived how you weren't wearing your usual tight shirt with dentel and a vest but you had a fletter sleeve white t-shirt instead, your usual low waisted jean was replaced by a high waisted jean with large leg, your heels were replaced by a pair of sneakers and your usual high pony tail was down, letting your hair cover your neck as much as possible, blocking the slight ordor of the different fragrance you used tonight. Jasper noticed how you tried your best to hide the freckles on your face with some make as one time Bella made abad comment about them. He noticed how you changed your entire look just to please his family's taste and he hated it. He loved how you would always ask him to tie your hair for you, or how he would count your freckles when he was bored.

"You look different." He acknowledged and you smiled brightly, but he could see it was fake.

"Yeah ! I didn't want to wear my usual style today ! Trying something new you know. Do you like it ?" You asked hopefully and Jasper frowned slightly as he heard Edward's snicker in the living room.

"It's... unusual for sure ?" The blond vampire replied as he moved out of the way, inviting you in.

"I must say, this smells really good Mrs. Cullen." You tried to compliment as everyone sat around the dinning table.

"Surely it smells better than you." Rosalie muttered, but made it loud enough as you could hear it from your sit and your smile fell a little while Jasper glared.

During the dinner the mood was tense. You knew it was because of you and Jasper could feel your guilty from across the room as you slowly ate your food.

"So Y/n ?" You immediately rose your head and looked toward Carter curiously.

"Jasper told us your mother was dead when you were younger. It must have hurt." The bruney male pointed out and you let out an uneasy laugh while looking away.

"Yeah it was." You muttered.

"How did she die ?" Bella asked blantly and you held your breath a little, image of your mother's death replaying in your head.

"She hum... she died in a car accident." You tried your best to not stutter and Jasper looked at you with worry, all he wanted was to comfort you.

"How old were you again ?" Edward smirked slightly, keeping the topic on.

"I was seven." You lowered your head and they hummed.

"That's young, how can you be so okay with it ?" Alice asked and Jasper glared at his siblings.

"Guys, stop." He growled lowly.

"No no, we want to know how did she cope with it all." Rosalie gave you a sickening sweet smile and you felt your stomach fell inside of you.

"I... Well I guess it was with time. And I was young, I didn't knew my mom very well-"

"So you didn't felt a tiny bit sad ?"

"What ? Oh no I felt devastated-"

"Were you in the car accident too ?"

"Yeah I was-"

"But you're fine ? Don't you think it's a little unfair for your mother ?"

"Guys. Stop. That."

"I think-"

"Don't you wish it was you ?"

"You don't even have a scar."

"I fould feel guilty if I were you."

"That's kind of unsensitive if you don't."

"I'm sorry. My father want me home." You stood up quickly without even looking up, afraid to show them you tears stained face.

Quickly walking out of the three story mansion, you didn't see the grins on the Cullen kids' faces and Jasper's worried and alarmed expression as you stepped in your car;

"Y/n/n I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"It's okay Jaz. I don't even know why I showed up when I knew that your family hated me." You wiped away a tear as Jasper stood by the window of your car.

"No no, none of this is your fault don't feel guilty please I should have known they were going to be like that. None of this is your fault they were just a bunch of asshole please don't cry darling." Jasper put one of his cold hand against your cheek and you grabbed his hand in yours leaning in his familiar touch.

"I'm sorry Jaz... For not being good enough for you or your family... I'm sorry I couldn't reach their expectation." You started your car and Jasper moved away with sad eyes.

"Please don't leave me darling." He whispered and you looked down at your lap before sending him a sad look.

"I'll see you later Jaz." You drove away and Jasper watched your car disappear between the trees of the forest, his hand slowly clenching into fist.

He was mad. He didn't understand why was his family so rude with you. They all accepted Bella when she forced herself on the family why could they not accept you even after how hard you tried to reach their standart, how hard you tried to understand their life style and always covering for them whenever a teacher would ask here they are when they hunt. Jasper hated how his family blantly hated you for no reasons at all when all you did was making him happier than he ever was.

"Why would you do that ?" Jasper whispered not even turning around to face his family.

"Jasper you have to understand-"

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT !?" It was the first time Jasper rose his voice and his eyes were dark, almost black.

"Jasper don't-"

"Please don't. You two did nothing while they are harassing Y/n questiong that clearly made her uncomfotable what is wrong with you all !? I was finally at peace !! I was finally truly happy, not because someone else felt happy but because I felt genuinly happy for once in my immortal life and you had to ruin it !? You had to be rude, you have to make her feel worthless !?" Jasper growled and his siblings and Bella frowned slightly.

"Why do you care so much anyways ?" Emmett crossed his arms on his chest.

"BECAUSE I LOVE HER !!" The empath reveale and everyone stood there in disbelief.

"I love her so much it fucking hurt to see her and feel her so demaged by the one who are supposed to support me forever. I don't understand why you would accept Bella when she pratically forced herself on our famil but can't accept the strongest and kindest girl walking on Earth. Why do you all hate Y/n so much ?" Jasper asked deseperatly but only got the silence as an answer causing him to scoff at his family before starting walk away.

"You all are unbelievable."

That night, Jasper showed up at your window to see you curved into a ball, soft whimper and sniffs audible from under your cover.

"Oh darling..." The words slipped from his lips and you looked out of your cover with glossy eyes, only killing his dead heart even more.

"I'm so sorry darling... I love you so much I'm so sorry..." Jasper whispered as he slided beside you and you immediately vurled inside of his arms, seeking for the warmth only he could give you even with a cold skin.

The both of you stayed in that position, for a while, him slowly caressing your hair and you sniffing from time to time as you listened to the silence inside his chest, calming your nerves. After a while, Jasper looked down at your figure debating if he should do his next move or not. But you needed to get away from them. Both of you.

"Let's run away together" His voice was calm and you looked up at him with red eyes from crying.

"But your family-"

"Won't do anything. I don't think I can trust them for a while after tonight." Jasper cut you and you frowned.

"Is it because of m-"

"Darling, nothing is your fault. We're going to pack your bag and tell you're dad what happened. He will understand." The vampire told you and you hesitated before nodding.

"But what about your family ?" You questioned silently.

"This is their fault. They will have to assume the result of their actions."

So here you were six years later, barely twenty-three years old, cooking in the kitchen waiting for your husband to come back from his day at work. Yeah Jasper was working. He was actually working in the library near the town you decided to settle in. You worked too, you were a teacher for pre-schooler. Then you heard the bell ring at the door and your dog, Fanny, barked loudly causing you to frown.

"Fanny ! Don't growl !" You scolded as youi wiped your hand on your appron before opening the door.

There stood a girl, she looked like she was eleven or something, and she held a box of cookies in her hands with a smile. To be honest she kind you reminded you of someone but you didn't knew who.

"Hey, can I help you dearie ?" Your soft adult side came out and Fanny ran at your feet.

"Hello ! My name is Renesmee and I'm here on behalf of my family ! My four siblings, our two parents and I moved a couple of miles away and we wanted to invite you and your family for dinner. These are for you." The girl grinned while handind you the box of cookie and you sent her an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, I'm already making dinner. Come on in thought." You invited and the golden brunette smile while stepping inside of the house after you.

The little looked around in aww as the vintage style was all around the house. On the wall there was a few painting, along with some pictures of your dog, yourself and Jasper all around and the smell of fresh bread greeted Renesmee as she sat down.

"It's very pretty here." She complimented and you smiled.

"Thank you, my husband and I settled here a few years back ourselves. You could invite your family for dinner thought. I always love to meet new people." You replied and Renesmee nodded gently.

"Come by in thirty minutes, everything should be ready by then." You added and the girl nodded before walking out of your house, escorted by Fanny who got a few scratches behind the ears as a reward before that the little waved see you later.

So now, thirty minutes later, you were placing seven more plates around your dinner table that you extanded. You texted Jasper to tell him about the unexpected guests so he could prepare and you smiled as the bell rang and Fanny ran to the door.

"Ay you big girl, out of the way." You shooed her away before opening the door, a bright smile plastered on your face as you saw seven people by your door. They all looked oddly familiar but you and your amazing memory couldn't remember from where you knew them.

"Hi, hello ! You must be our new neighbor. I'm Y/n L/n/n-Hale, please come on in." You moved out of the way, missing the glance the family shared between themselves before stepping walked in the dinning room and they all sat around the dinning table while you grabbed some hot plat with a kitchen glove.

"You're house is lovely." A wavy brunette woman complimented and you grinned, she looked around twenty-six to twenty-eight years old.

"Thank you, my husband and I designed it a few years back, he should probably be home soo-" Your reply was cut short when Jasper bargged inside of the house with a serious yet worried expression.

"Darling are you alright !? I've smell a couples of vampires around the house and-" Jasper cut himself when he noticed who was sitting around your dinner table while you froze in confusion.

"Jasper ?" The father of the family asked and you forwned slightly before that it cklicked inside of your head.

"Shit !" You swore under your breath as you finally recognized the people in your dinning room.

"What are you all doing here ?" Jasper growled slowly making his way to you.

"Jasper we weren't-"

"Why are you here ?" Jasper glared and you moved around the table to join his side.

"Jaz, honey, calm down alright ? They were not going to do anything." You bit the inside of your cheek as your husband leaned into your touch.

"If he is my uncle Jasper then are you the problematic mean girl ?" Renesmee asked and you turned to her in confusion.

"I'm sorry ?" You replied.

"Y/n was anything but problematic." The ex-soldier stepped in and Edward glared at him.

"She made you run away from us ! We're literally your family !" The golden brunet replied and you looked down, it was the same thing all over again.

"If you all weren't that awful with her I would have never proposed her to run away with me. You all were blantly rude and totally ignored her discomfort, you made her question her whole being from her personality to her way of dressing, I had to spent years, YEARS, to help her regain her confidence again do you know how helpless I felt ? Listening to the love of my life criyng herself to sleep without being able to make her feel better because it would have just creat her some fake happiness ? Do you know how I felt when no one of you even tried to befriend her while alml of you sacrified your life plenty of times for Bella while she was just human ?! You disregarded my feelings and thought only because you were selfish enough to think that I only belonged with you. You made me run away from you." Jasper revealed with venom as his eyes darkened and the room fell silent.

"Jasper we're so sorry..." Alice's voice was small as she took a step foward and you felt Jasper hold tighten around your waist.

"The day Y/n arrived at school I- I saw you both together. And you were happy. But the rest of us weren't. And then I saw you both running away and I thought- I thought that Y/n somehow turned you against us. I saw us fighting over her I thought- I thought that she would break us apart somehow and..." Alice trailed off and you frowned slightly at the realization.

"You didn't want to lose your best friend and brother..." You finished silently and everyone turned to you.

"I know how that feels." You chuckled bitterly before moving away from Jasper's hold.

"Jasper was the first person you ever considerated family, you both spent years together before finding the rest of your family. Even I could see the close bond between you two. Between you all." You smiled softly, disappearing in the kitchen before coming back with a letter.

"I understand why you did what you did. You could have probably be less harsh sure, but I understand. And I forgive you. Not because I know that Jasper would never forgive you if I don't but because I genuinly forgive you all." You put the letter on the table and everyone awwed at your kindness.

"We got your letter Rosalie. At first I didn't believe that you would be the first one apologizing, after all you were probably the scariest, but your words really had an effect on me." You told and the blond godess smiled.

She sent you this letter over four years ago, you didn't knew how the letter actually got delivered at your house but when you received this letter, you and Jasper just had marry and it was probably one of the best wedding gift ever.

After that everyone was now in the living room, catching up with each other. Jasper was still a little bit tense, his family understood why, but you didn't pay attention to it and continued to smile, offering them a cup of blood you had in your fridge in case Jasper had an emergency. You learned about Bella's pregnancy and the whole half-human, half-vampire baby war while the Cullens learned how Jasper made a lot of improvement being around humans.

"We're very sorry for the way we treated you before Y/n." Esme apologized one last time and you shrugged it off.

"Please forget it, the past is the past and we have plenty of years ahead of us." You joked and they all smiled.

"Are you planning on being turned by the way ?" Bella asked you and shook your head causing a few of them to rose their eyes.

"I'm waiting until I'm atleast 25 years old. I want to enjoy my youth as much as possible without passing like a weird girl being married to a twenty year old librarian. But until then I'm just fine while being human." You announced and the rest of the Cullen nodded in understanding while you poured Renesmee some apple juice in a tea cup.

"I still can't believe we thought you were bad..." Emmett muttered and they all shared an awkward laugh while you brusted in a fit of giggle.

"It's okay really. And it got me some times alone with Jaz for a while." You replied and your lover passed his arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder.

Then a loud gasp was heard.

"ENGAGED OR MARRIED ALREADY ?" Alice rushed to your side, grabbing yours and Jasper's hand quickly and the rest of the family widened their eyes.

"Engaged. Y/n forced me to wait until all of us will get along again. She wanted my family to attend the wedding as much as hers." Jasper kissed you cheek and you chuckled leaning into his touch.

"Bless that girl, I hope you didn't expected to have you wedding without me." Alice playfully glared and everyone laughed.

If someone would have told you five years ago that you were getting along with Jasper's family you would have give them a big sad smile with an 'I wish' for answer. Now you couldn't wait for the awaiting future with your new family.

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