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#neither really know how to tell the others the truth
girlwtdragontattoo · 12 hours
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In your debt - Part 3
Young Halsin x Reader
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Art belongs to @ozumii-fucking-wizard, I also used their Young Halsin headcanon list as a reference :) i love the idea of him being a bit hotheaded in his younger years hehe
Find Part 1 and Part 2 here.
Slow burn, sorry. But the next part will get spicy, I promise. >:D
Song in this fic:
Warning: Swearing
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You awoke on a huge matt, covered in a thick quilt. Your eyes adjusted to the dim light as you scanned your surroundings. You were staring at a large tent peak above you, which swayed sleepily in the wind. You turned your head slightly, examining the area further. Smoldering embers cracked softly in the middle of the room, with various tiny cushions placed around it. A kettle peeped, hovering above the low fire, green steam escaping its mouth. Adorning the tent were many little trinkets: dreamcatchers, windchimes, wooden toys and engraved clay pots decorated the walls and small shelves. The ground looked slightly sandy next to you, furthering the softness of your position. The matt was far too big for you, so was the quilt. You looked like a little mouse had sneaked into the cat’s bed.
You noticed a stinging sensation and remembered what happened with the goblin.
Your hands drifted under the covers to your pulsating side. A thick piece of rough fabric met your fingers and as you pawed along carefully, you realized it was bandaging. The pain was dull, but made its evil presence known.
That’s right. You were with Halsin. In his village.
You had no idea what else the dreamy druid had done while you were knocked out. You must’ve looked like a corpse.
You noticed you were wearing different clothes. This long sleeve tunic wasn’t yours and neither were the wide pants you spied while lifting the covers.
Had he…had he changed you? You blushed at the thought.
Had he seen you naked???
You attempted to sit up, quickly, which turned out to be a mistake. Deciding to prop yourself up carefully, you hovered over your unwounded side, relying on the strength of your arm. You eyed the large mug of water close to you, bringing it hastily to your dry lips.
It tasted so clean. You realized how gross the water really was back in the city.
You finished the water in a few gulps and placed the mug back where you found it.
Just then, your ears picked up a distant conversation. The voices were agitated. You weren’t able to get up and walk towards the entrance, so you strained your ears to listen carefully.
You recognized Halsin’s voice, who sounded exceedingly frustrated.
“So, your solution is just to ignore the looming threat? How on earth can you be so thick?”, he growled at an unknown male speaker.
“That is no tone to take with me, novice. You’re in no position to question my decision”, the other man answered, his tone so low it made the hairs on your arm stand up. Who was this?
You heard repetitive, thudding footsteps. It sounded like someone angrily pacing.
Halsin spoke again, his intonation louder than before: “If they tried once, they will do so again. And with more devastation. More goblins! They want our children for some sick game and you would rather do nothing!”
“The only person making that claim is lying halfdead in your tent. You do not know them. I do not know them! I will not send a group towards certain death because a stranger made a groggy statement!”, the other man met Halsin’s tone, with warning etched within.
You felt your stomach drop. The terrified faces the children had made while Izick was fighting you flashed before you. You knew you were telling the truth, but how could they know that?
“Uncle, they are the reason our children are safely returned to us!” There was a slight pause and you heard him step towards the tent, perhaps pointing. “If they hadn’t intervened, the drow-“
“Silence!”, the man Halsin addressed as uncle bellowed, the echo reverberating through the area.
“I do not care what could or would have happened. I care about the facts of the situation. It was YOUR task to watch over them. And YOU left Zacharia alone so that you could feel like a hero. Zacharia’s death and the possible fate of your brothers’ and sisters’ is on your conscien-“
A mighty roar interrupted the uncle’s chastising. A second followed with thundering thuds and tremors. Slicing through the chaos, you heard an assertive, older woman’s command:
“ENOUGH! Halsin, Dafydd. Stop this nonsense!”
The vibration in the soil ceased slowly, with one still insisting on remaining.
“Halsin…!”, she threatened.
You felt the shaking of the earth stop, finally but reluctantly. With vicious pants from both of the arguing parties, you heard the woman speak once again:
“Halsin, go check on your patient. And you, Dafydd, go do something you deem important. We do not have time for pointless squabbles like this.”
A pause and finally a few grunts of agreement. You heard footsteps leaving and two sets walking towards your tent.
Why were you panicking? It was ok for you to be awake, right?
You hastily pulled the covers over half your face as you lay down a bit too bluntly.  You didn’t want them to know you were listening.
The tent flap slid open and you saw Halsin hold it open for the other person.
An older elf woman walked in, her long grey hair tied neatly in elaborate braids. She had exceedingly kind, hazel eyes that met yours with a soft twinkle. Her dark skin glistened with tiny drops of sweat. Her attire was rather casual, it looked like she spent a lot of time outside, judging by her sun kissed, wrinkly nose.
She smiled and you returned it carefully.
“Ah, so this is the savior”, her voice matched the one who had scolded the two men before. Halsin didn’t say anything, but grumpily stomped to the other side of the tent to grab a piece of wood. He started aggressively carving at it with a knife that looked too small for his hands.
The elf lady rolled her eyes and kneeled beside your head: “How are we feeling this morning, duckling?”
You cleared your throat, blinking a bit confused at the last word, but sat up slowly, while she helped you up: “Uh… I think… ok?”
Your words sounded unrecognizably hoarse.
The older elf conjured a gentle, yellow light from her palm and lay her hand on your shoulder. Closing her eyes, you felt a wonderous thrum from her touch.
“Mmh, yes. Healing slow but nicely”, she opened her eyes, winked at you and turned her head towards the tall druid, who was still chopping viciously at the tiny block of wood.  
“Good thinking with the ginkgo leaves, son. Their organs are healing quickly”, she kept her gaze fixed on him. He met her eyes briefly, let out a rough “Hm” as a response and continued shaving.
You looked at Halsin, too. His furious aura engulfed the entire tent. His brows were frowning so intensely that you could barely see his calming eyes. This was his mother? They looked nothing alike. And she was so much older.
The woman turned back to you, deciding to ignore the brewing giant in the corner.
“I’m Anwen, elder druid of the High Forest. I assume you know who the sulking moose over there is”, she gestured vaguely at Halsin, who grunted and continued whittling more aggressively.
You nodded, trying to stop yourself from laughing. The hissy fit was a bit comical coming from such a large man, but you understood where the anger came from.
“Y/N…” you lay a hand on your chest, indicating yourself. “Thank you for … uh…” you were looking down at the clean garb you were wearing.
Halsin blushed excessively in the corner of your eye, turning to face the tent wall.
Anwen grinned: “Well, well, now I know where my sleepwear went.”
You stared at her anxiously.
“Oh, don’t worry. You need it more than I do right now”, she placated.
Your eyes wandered to the back of Halsin’s head. You could see the blushing had increased. So, he had changed you…
“Duckling, I am beyond thankful that you came to my children’s aid. They all won’t stop talking about you and your rescue. I’m sure they’d be happy to meet you properly, once your strength allows”, Anwen tugged at your cover, pulling it over you more and forcing you to lie back down.
You obliged.
“Halsin tells me you overheard something from the goblins. Something about the children…”, she patted the cover close to your chest.
You explained what you had heard before you intervened. Elder Anwen listened intently, nodding along as you described the attire the goblins were wearing to the best of your ability. She thanked you kindly and exited the tent, addressing Halsin to join her in prayer at sundown. This left you alone with the handsome druid.
He finally placed his craft on the sideboard next to his carving knife, leaning against the board and letting out a deep, irked sigh. You didn’t know what to say, so you just watched him.
The silence lingered between you for a bit, when he finally turned to you and tried to smile.
“Sorry. I’m glad you’re doing better.” He approached the side of your matt and squatted down. “I should change your bandage…”
You nodded after realizing you had been staring at him for too long and pushed the cover off your upper half. Hesitating slightly, you lifted the tunic to reveal your nursed belly.
Halsin sat down on the sand and started taking the binding off carefully. You let out small hisses, as he pulled the adhesive off your wound. You saw leaves sticking to the side of the band that lay directly on the most sensitive area. These were presumably the ginkgo leaves Anwen had mentioned before. He grabbed the teapot from the fireplace and filled a goblet with steaming, green water.
You beheld his work in silence, as he dabbed a soaking cloth on your abdomen. He conjured more healing magic with his hands, which hovered over your belly for some time. The comforting humming of his incantation joined the low purring of the fire. The dull light of the tent danced across his face, which seemed absent and deep in thought.
“Thank you for…all of this...”, you cut through the quiet, realizing you hadn’t really thanked him for saving your life.
Your words seemed to snap him out of something. He blinked hard and turned his head towards you, as his hand floated above your stomach.
His smile grew warmer and your heart skipped a secret beat: “You needn’t thank me. It’s the least I can do.”
He returned his attention back to nursing you. Watching him work, you felt a gnawing in your throat that you couldn’t ignore any longer.
“… are you alright?”, You had been wanting to ask about the conversation you overheard since he walked in.
Halsin hesitated for a moment, his eyes flitting from your face to his hands.
“It’s nothing you should concern yourself with. You’ve done more than enough,” he murmured.
You thought about the words the other man, Dafydd, had chastised the young druid with. Halsin seemed to be struggling with immense guilt and a need to correct it.
You accepted his unsatisfying answer and let your eyes wander around the tent, as you heard Halsin sigh once more. You didn’t know each other. Why would he share his woes with you? You were just a useless bard that happened to stumble into an unfortunate situation.
You spent the next few days in his tent, having Anwen and Halsin visit you every hour to bring food, drink and give you healing sessions. You were feeling better every day, the throbbing pain slowly dissipating from your lower body. It got to the point, where you even forgot you were hurt to begin with.
Anwen told you stories about Halsin, whom she adopted as a young boy. Most of the stories were quite embarrassing and you enjoyed learning about his mischievous nature. He carried himself with immense grace whenever he was around you, but you secretly knew he had a massive fear of moths and used to hide in baskets or pots to avoid druid training. He grew more relaxed each passing day, as well, showing off his collection of wood carvings you’d been eyeing in the corner of the tent, realizing you were someone easy to speak to.
You left the tent from time to time, as well, and were allowed to join in meals and share stories with the rest of the villagers. The village had been damaged by the attack, but not by too much. The druids seemed organized enough to fix things swiftly. Everyone treated you kindly.
The children were enthralled with you. They had carved a new, albeit extremely creaky and sad-looking, lute for you as a thank you, which you accepted with warmth surrounding your heart. Their eyes stared up at you, adoringly, as you haphazardly played on your gifted “instrument”, the notes plunking out strained and harsh. Gods, it was ugly. But you loved it anyway.
You learned Dafydd was the archdruid of the High Forest and Anwen’s brother. He was a lanky, older, but tall elf with the same eyes as Anwen, yet lacking her kindness. He had an intense authoritative energy and barely smiled, only nodding to greet you when you joined the circle. The only person he truly listened to was his sister and he was extremely harsh with the rest of the novice druids whom he trained, especially Halsin.
The children begged you to join them in their barn one night, where you learned Halsin slept while you occupied his tent. They dragged you to the heaps of straw, showing off their own attempts at carvings. You spied a larger wooden object hiding under a thin, massive blanket. That was most likely where Halsin slept, judging by the size of the bedroll. You decided not to pry.
The kids requested you sing them to sleep, as the orange sunrays drifted through the small cracks in the wooden walls. They were all snuggled together, glittering eyes blinking expectedly up at you, as you sat on a large bundle of hay.
How could you say no to them?
You started humming softly, watching them curl up closer to each other and stare at you with their little faces. You thought back to a gentle lullaby you had thought of, while you were wandering through a small village, which had a tradition of burning old keepsakes, in order to release them to the spirit world. You had been writing it below the Oaktree you always visited in the High Forest.
You didn’t need an instrument to keep the rhythm going, as the music flowed from your lips naturally:
I smelt smoke
On the wheezing of the wind when I awoke
A pyre of memory
Some fly-tipped treasury
Out there burning slow
Dark soaked fields
And the snuffling wet noses at my heels
Suddenly hackles raise
At the crackling of the blaze
Out there burning slow
And sometimes I catch him
With his axe in
The shadow
So secretive and private,
But I’m breathing in his life when
He’s out there burning slow
You repeated the lines a few times, until you noticed every chest of the children moving slowly up and down in a sweet cadence.
You heard someone behind you and turned to see Halsin leaning against the open door, the dark night behind him, his arms crossed:
“Beautiful tune. Been long since I’ve heard it.”
You blinked at him in stunned silence. He had heard it before?
He chuckled, noticing your confusion: “I told you Thaniel is fond of you. He likes to sing me your songs. The children do, too. Now I’ve had the pleasure of hearing it from the origin’s mouth, as intended.”
“Oh, wow… I didn’t know a forest spirit liked music…”, you pondered that thought, wondering what this Thaniel being was. If he had been listening all this time, where had he been hiding himself while you played on the riverbank?
Halsin joined you, sitting down on the hay ball. The might of his body made your side move up a bit, leaving your legs to dangle. He watched the children sleep, with a permanent smile on his face.
“Aren’t they precious?”, he cooed and you nodded with a silent chuckle, as one ork boy snored gently.
“Oh wait, one moment!”, Halsin stood up and tiptoed to the large bedroll, pulling the woodwork from under the draping.
He hid it behind his back, which worked amazingly, since he was so wide.
“Close your eyes,” he grinned.
You complied and waited with a secret shortness of breath. He had made something for you?
“Open,” he purred, sweetly.
As you opened your eyes, you were met with a beautifully crafted lute. The wood had been engraved with lovely vines and flowers.
Your mouth dropped open.
Halsin hurriedly sat beside you again, the hay ball raising you once again, as he handed you the intricately constructed instrument. The feel of the soft oak gave you goosebumps and the redness in your face was impossible to hide.
The strings were firm and carefully strung into place. You plucked a few softly. It sounded heavenly.
“This- what- how- why-…” you couldn’t string a coherent sentence together. Halsin chuckled.
“The children told me you sacrificed your lute to save them. The one they made for you is ...cute... , but I thought you needed a proper one.”
You gaped at him. You had never gotten such a thoughtful gift in your entire life.
You felt tears bite your eyes, but you blinked them away.
“Gods…thank you Halsin…I- I don’t know what to say. It’s marvelous!”
His smiled widened: “It’s the least I can do, I’m in your debt, remember?”
You smiled back, gazing at the artwork.
Moments passed as you both watched the sleeping children quietly. Your heart was still racing from the tremendous gesture.
You felt Halsin’s shoulders tense up as his face collapsed into the thoughtful one you first encountered in the tent.
You gulped inaudibly and decided maybe now he would be more open to talking to you. You had this urge to soothe him, especially after receiving the lute.
“Are you still bothered by what the Archdruid said?”, the words just spilled out of you. You realized it would indicate you had overheard the conversation and your throat closed up. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry…” your hands fidgeted around the lute as you nervously babbled on.
Halsin let out a brief gust of air between his nostrils. He nodded a bit, unbothered by your question.
“It’s just…”, he stopped himself. You saw his hands tremor slightly, “Dafydd is such a…such a…”
Your brows furrowed in concern.
Halsin took another deep breath, calming his slight shaking: “I didn’t abandon Zacharia. He told me to go and help. He told me he would take the children to the thicket and hide. I didn’t know those damned goblins were tailing us.” The words tumbled out of him with quiet agony staining his intonation.
You sat up a bit straighter, put the lute down on the ground and turned more towards him, unsure what else to contribute, but offering your ear.
Halsin balled a fist, as he watched one of the girls turn over in her sleep.
“Dafydd won’t go after that filth that tried to steal them. Says it’s pointless and risky and hotheaded. But what if they come back? Perhaps with an army of drow instead of stupid goblins. What if they get their hands on them and…” You heard his knuckles crack as he flexed his fist more.
He realized what he was doing with his hand and released his grip.
“I have to do something. I can’t just sit by and hope for the best.” His eyes scanned the barn floor, then finally met your worried gaze. The jade hue sparkled in the moonlight. You buried the thought about how handsome he was, while you focused on his problem.
You let his words swirl in your mind for a while. You never had any contact with Lolth sworn drows, just the kind ones that had escaped that fanaticism to Baldur’s Gate. At least you assumed they were Lolth sworn, you didn’t know of any other drow group that would do such a thing.
You agreed with Halsin. It was a terrible threat and a danger for the children to have the sheer possibility of another kidnapping exist.
“The thought haunts me, too. So, I understand how you feel”, your voice was almost a whisper, in fear of waking the sleeping souls, “It’s a huge risk to let them conspire in the dark.”
Halsin nodded. He leaned forward, holding his weight on his legs with his elbows. 
He seemed to be at war with himself, unsure if he should tell you something. His eyes scanned you and you felt your body shake. A thought of what his lips tasted like invaded you, which you blinked away ashamedly.
Focus.
You attempted to hide your racy thoughts with a stupidly fake cough.
Halsin sat up again and bit his lip. Then he grabbed your hands and held them within his own. A brush of heat sizzled up your spine. He was so close to you.
“I’m going after them. I need a few nights to prepare, but then I’ll track those miscreants down. Frelma and Danan have agreed to come with me. Three is better than one. I have no idea if we’ll survive such an assault, but it’s better than sitting here and waiting for the next attack. We’re still concocting a plan. The drow are too dangerous to let live.”
His eyes bore into yours, a shred of relief after finally telling someone clouding them: “Please. Do not tell anyone, especially not Dafydd.”
You stared into his forest eyes, that quivered with anticipation at your response. You tried your absolute most not to lean in and clasp your lips in his, although every sinew within you yearned for it. Why was he so Gods-damn fine?
FOCUS.
“I’m coming with you.”
The phrase escaped from you. You couldn’t believe what you just said. Neither could the druid, who still held your hands gently.
He tilted his head, pacifyingly, his eyes softening sweetly: “You are braver than anyone I’ve ever met. But that would be quite foolish. No, you will stay here until you’re fully heale-.”
“I insist.”
OH MY GODS, SHUT UP.
Your insides were screaming at you, what the fuck were you thinking? What would you contribute? Battle music? You would only be in the way.
Halsin let out a soft laugh, lowering your hands but still holding onto them. He shook his head and gazed at you:
“You’re a fascinating person, truly. But I cannot allow you to-“
You released your hand from his grasp and held up a finger. An idea sparked within you. An extremely stupid idea.
“I know I can’t fight. But I can run.”
Halsin’s brow furrowed, waiting for an explanation.
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chaosspear · 7 months
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Kudos to PMMM Tails, probably the only guy to never die on this AU
NOT THE ONLY. As far as I'm aware, unless some kind of revelation hits me, Amy gets through okay, and Sonic still lives (in a way). Admittedly Knuckles is kind of a 50/50-- just cause his arc isn't written out yet. Whatever happens, i want him to be even more tightly involved with chaos in the sa1 arc... I dunno. I know i don't want more than 3 people to kick the bucket before Sonic does his big fuck you kyuubey chaos control, but I DO know i want him to be pretty isolated from the others by that point. not like physically, but he would be less open about what he knows now, and what he's planning to do
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wonusite · 10 months
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Endless Adoration
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❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞
PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader
GENRE: best friends brother au, friends with benefits au, fluff, smut
WORD COUNT: 7.2k
WARNINGS: bestie’s brother!mingyu, virgin!reader, secret pining, suppressed feelings, discourse of how to pronounce caramel, mingyu is the textbook definition of down bad, loss of virginity, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mirror sex, riding, squirting, multiple creampies, cum eating
A/N: this fic is my contribution to the fall season and part of the fall-ing for you collab! hope you all enjoy! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
It’s no secret that Mingyu is an affectionate man.
Acts of service and giving out his affection is his love language, and everyone knows it. Which is why no one really questions his behavior toward you. If he laughs a little too hard at something you said or always comes to your defense even when you’re wrong, it’s not really suspicious because he’s just a kind and gentle guy.
His little sister, however, does not see it that way.
Minseo knows her brother, and while he may be a walking green flag and a gentleman among beasts, he’s not that nice. Vernon argues that it’s only because you two are best friends that Mingyu treats you just a bit better than anyone else. It’s a viable argument, yet the little telltale signs point to Mingyu’s actions being more than common curtesy.
Like now as you’re arguing with Seungkwan during game night about the correct pronunciation of your favorite candy.
“It’s caramel.”
You scoff, eyebrows furrowed defiantly as you glare at Seungkwan. “No. It’s caramel.”
Vernon and Seokmin watch the exchange with amused smiles while Minseo watches her brother. He wears a similar expression, except there’s a subtle emotion in his eyes as he’s looking at you. It’s been there since you slapped down your last two Uno cards in repulsed shock when Seungkwan mispronounced caramel.
Ten minutes later, neither of you are willing to concede to the other and Mingyu still looks like a lovesick puppy.
“In what world is it caramel?” Seungkwan screeches, rising up from his spot on the couch.
“Mingyu.” You call suddenly. “Is it caramel or caramel?”
Two pair of heated eyes look over to him pointedly. The room goes silent as everyone waits for the answer that will possibly get you two to stop arguing. Minseo watches her brother carefully as he puts down his nearly empty beer bottle. The move seems casual, but she knows he does it to distract himself from the fact that you’re practically saying take my side.
“It’s caramel.”
“Ha!” You yell in victory, pointing a smug finger at a sulking Seungkwan. “I told you!”
Your friend’s pout is bitter. “That’s not fair! You only asked Mingyu because you know he’s going to agree with you no matter what!”
It’s true, and the rest of your giggling friends know it. Minseo doesn’t miss her brother’s bashful smile, and it makes her realize that there might actually be something deeper than just a crush. So she waits until all the guests leave to confront her brother about his not-so-subtle behavior.
“Is there something going on with you and Y/N?”
Now, her brother is naturally clumsy and pretty terrible at hiding his feelings, but Minseo didn’t expect him to drop all the board games he was carrying. He scrambles to pick up all the scattered pieces, pointedly looking at the ground and not up at her with a pout like he would’ve usually done.
“I—” He coughs awkwardly as he haphazardly shoves random pieces into the wrong boxes. “What are you talking about?”
It’s almost insulting that he thinks he can hide the truth from her. “I mean that I already know everything. So quit playing, and tell me how long this has been going on.”
Mingyu’s broad shoulders slump in defeat. He should’ve known that Minseo would find out (she had a knack for finding out everything), but he honestly didn’t expect her to find out this soon.
“Fine.” His tone is resigned as he puts the precariously stacked board games on the coffee table. “It’s true that I took Y/N’s virginity, but I swear that I only did it because she asked—”
“You what?”
His sister’s sharp tone makes him pause. Minseo’s mouth is dropped open and her eyes are almost popping out of her head. Belatedly, Mingyu realizes that his little sister is not referring to the favor you had asked him to do weeks ago. An uncomfortable chill goes down his spine.
Fuck.
You were going to kill him.
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It’s not Mingyu’s fault.
When you came to him and asked him to teach you how to have sex, he was rendered powerless to your pretty eyes that shined with so much trust. He knows it’s wrong for him to take his little sister’s best friend’s virginity, but ever since you were kids, he’s never been able to tell you no. Years later, nothing has changed.
“Spread them wider, baby.” His voice rasps as his hands go to pry your thighs apart until he’s left with the sight of your glistening cunt.
Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight of your pretty pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your own arousal, and all he’s done is kiss you and mark up a few places on your body. And yet, there’s already a messy web of arousal covering your puffy lips. His groan is deep and almost animalistic when he sees your pretty cunt clenching with need.
Minseo be damned, he was going to absolutely ruin you.
You mewl softly when Mingyu presses his middle and index fingers against your cunt to spread your lips apart. The heat from his fingers feels different from when you touch yourself. It feels so much better, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moans and whimpers from escaping like they want.
Your best friend’s brother has always been unfairly attractive, but he’s never looked hotter to you than he does now, licking his pink lips while looking at your pussy.
Mingyu glances up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve really never done this before?”
The beefy puppy between your legs thinks he might actually come untouched when you pout at him. That exact look is what got him into this situation in the first place. Your adorable pout always brought him to his knees.
“Gyu.” You whine, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”
He loves when you call him that, and it takes everything in him to hold himself back from shoving his cock inside you and fucking you roughly like he wants. That would have to be for another time.
“I’m not, baby.” He assures you before he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “I just need to know how far I should take this.”
The frown you give him is oddly determined. “You said you’d teach me everything.”
Fuck.
Mingyu wonders if you actually know what you’re asking for, but then he has to remind himself that you’re only inexperienced, not stupid. You came to him because you trust him, and he wouldn’t ever betray that trust. If you happened to be uncomfortable with anything, he would stop right away. Though, it seems like you have no intentions of telling him to stop.
The soft moan you let out when Mingyu starts to gently toy with your dripping slit is like music to his ears. He thinks you can’t get any hotter, but then you buck your aching cunt into his hand as if to say get on with it. Ever powerless to your desires, Mingyu slips two fingers past your folds. He curls them experimentally, feeling your warm, wet cunt stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought. Virgin tight.
“Fuck.” His growl is deep and has you clenching down on his fingers. “I need to taste you.”
Arousal is clouding your mind and making you feel drunk. The way Mingyu is looking at you like you’re the thing he’s wanted the most in the world has you gushing all over his fingers. His hot mouth latches on to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. You cry out loudly as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock.
“Gyu!” You cry out as you arch you back, grinding your cunt into his face in search of release.
Your moans become broken when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The groans he lets out makes you release more juices into his awaiting mouth. It’s almost embarrassing the way his room is suddenly full of the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt, but you feel too good to actually care.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Mingyu groans into your sopping cunt. “You have the sweetest little cunt.”
All you can focus on is the way his tongue is fucking into you with a force that has you seeing stars. He runs his soft tongue along your aching folds skillfully until all you can do is cry out for him. Mingyu smirks into your folds, fingers slowly massaging deep inside you. The wanton cries you’re letting out make him scissor his fingers so you’ll be prepped enough to take his cock.
When you look down and see Mingyu’s pretty eyes looking up at you with unadulterated desire, the coil building in your stomach abruptly snaps. Mingyu moans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock twitches against the sheets when you keep rocking your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth. With a low groan, he keeps going, using his tongue to fuck you through your orgasm.
You’re a panting mess by the time he pulls away. His chin is covered in your release, and you briefly wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive. Mingyu licks his lips before he smashes them on yours. The taste of your own release makes you moan into his mouth, loving how his lips feel against yours.
You chase his lips when he suddenly pulls away. It’s almost cruel of him to laugh when you whine petulantly after he doesn’t give you what you want. But you can’t truly be mad. Not when it concerns Mingyu.
“Are you ready?”
Your attention is quickly drawn to his throbbing cock. He can’t deny the pleasure it gives him to see you gaping at it. It makes Mingyu think about the face you’ll make when he’s splitting you open.
“It’s...” Huge. You swallow nervously. “Will it fit?”
You can’t take your eyes off his monstrous dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, smearing the precum dribbling from his fat tip all over his veiny length. You can only watch in fascination like you’re in a trance, pussy clenching in desire. The only dicks you’ve ever seen are the ones from porn, but even those don’t compare to how thick and pretty Mingyu’s looks.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Mingyu licks his lips, mind clouded with a lustful haze. “I’ll make it fit.”
The face you make when he uses your arousal to get his dick wet nearly makes him come right then and there. After years of fucking his fist to the thought of you, he finally has you underneath him looking more irresistible than ever.
“Ready, baby?” The pet name continues to fall from his lips so easily, and it’s making you unreasonably more horny than you already are. “Remember you can tell me to stop anytime.”
“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation. Instead of being nervous, you’re just eager, and you know it’s because you’re doing this with Mingyu who actually cares about you.
Mingyu shudders in pleasure as he slowly sinks his leaking tip into your tight pussy. Your warm and wet and already gripping him so tightly that he wonders if he’ll come once he gets the rest of cock inside you. The choked gasp of pleasure you let out makes him throb with pride and arousal. Your pretty mouth is dropped open in a silent moan, and he has to swoop down to give you a sweet kiss.
You whimper into his mouth, starting to feel the stretch burn as he continues to slide in deeper. Mingyu pulls away to place tender kisses along your jaw, whispering into your heated skin about how good you’re taking him. A soft moan is pulled from your throat when he rubs gentle circles on your clit. It eases the sting, and soon enough pleasure cancels out the pain.
“G-Gyu.” You mewl as he finally bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. “Fuck. Your cock is so big.”
Your fucked out whine makes his dick throb. Mingyu only offers you a shy chuckle, thumb still working your sensitive clit. Your hot cunt is pulsing and gripping him so tightly that he knows the slightest movement will have him busting inside you. And while that’s one thing he’s dreamed of for a long time, this was about your pleasure not his.
“Like it?” His voice is seductive and not teasing at all which just turns you on more. “Tell me, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”
His hips shift, and it makes his cock curve into your sweet spot that makes you arch your back. The moan you let out is louder this time, hips bucking in need. Your arousal is drenching his cock and spilling down to coat his heavy sack.
“Feels so fucking good, Gyu! Please move!” You whimper desperately as you wrap your legs around his waist.
Mingyu moans into your skin, hips moving upon your command. He starts to thrust in and out of your hot cunt with precise yet slow movements. His hands trail up to your bouncing tits, gently caressing and rubbing your hardened nipples. You moan again, turned on by how tenderly he’s touching you.
“Told you we’d make it fit, pretty.” His grin is so attractive that it makes you tighten impossibly and stain his cock with more cream.
Mingyu’s hips start to snap a little more desperately now. His cock seems to swell when he looks down to see how tightly you’re gripping him. Strings of arousal cling to your skin and his as he continues to stretch out your tight little cunt. His heavy balls slap against your ass as you continue to moan in pleasure.
“You’re dripping all over me, babe.” He grunts, feeling like he’s in heaven. “Am I making you feel that good?”
Just like outside the bedroom, Mingyu likes to be praised. Your heart swells with fondness, unable to believe how cute he can be even as he’s splitting you open on his cock. It makes you want to oblige him all the more.
“So fucking good, Gyu.” You moan wantonly as his cock continues to spear into you.
You’re sensitive, mewling and whining in pleasure as he snaps his hips at the perfect speed and intensity. Mingyu lets out a deep groan when your thighs start to quiver. Your eyes are rolling back as his cock keeps slamming against your sweet spot, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
“God, you’re pretty.” Mingyu moans as you squeeze his cock tighter. “Prettiest little thing ever.”
Your entire body heats up, and you can’t help but pull him down for a passionate kiss. Mingyu moans into your mouth. His soft lips move against yours with a need that makes you ravenous. You start to meet his thrusts, eager for more of him.
The sound of wet skin slapping fills the room, and you don’t ever want it to end. Mingyu’s mouth, hands, and cock are too addicting for you to ever want anything else. With the way his throbbing dick keeps fucking into you desperately, you’re pretty sure the feeling is mutual.
When he reluctantly pulls away from your sweet lips, he trails wet kisses down to your neck. You moan out his name when you feel him start to mark you up. The ache in his cock grows when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. Your sensual moans of his name sounds like music to his ears, and he knows he’ll be fucking his hand to the memory often.
Your orgasm is close, the coil in the pit on your stomach on the verge of snapping. All it takes is for his long fingers to smooth over your wet clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud for you to come undone. Your back arches off the mattress as you gush all over his cock with a loud cry of Mingyu’s name.
The erotic and breathtaking sight of you coming on his cock is something that leaves him breathless. It’s all Mingyu needs for his own orgasm to rip through him. He stills with a low groan of your name. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your pussy. The two of you are moaning and whimpering as your walls spasm around his aching cock.
“That’s it, baby.” Mingyu moans as he rolls his hips to fuck you through both your highs.
You’re whimpering in pleasure, milking him for every last drop of cum he has. The way he fucks it back into you makes you feel delirious with pleasure, and your cunt gets tighter with need at the thought of doing it all over again.
Mingyu holds you close as you both pant—spent and satisfied. He gently coos at you, sweetly caressing your face as he keeps his cum plugged inside you with his still-throbbing cock.
“How was it, baby?” He wonders, big puppy dog eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You wrap your arms around his muscular back, bringing a hand up to gently play with his hair. The gentle hum you let out eases his worries. “You were amazing.”
The smile he gives you is bright and makes your chest jerk with affection. Mingyu gently caresses your body, telling you how good you were for him. It makes you burn for him all over again.
Before you can convince him to fuck you again, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. You watch curiously as he brings back a wet towel. It’s warm against your skin as he starts to clean you up. The act is somehow more intimate than him stuffing you full of cum, but you don’t hate it.
Once he’s done, he gets back into bed with you. It takes you by surprise when he pulls you on top of him. Mingyu caresses your naked back, basking in the feeling of your weight on him. His heart jumps when he feels you start to trace small patterns on his chest.
“Can we do that again?” Your voice is coy, and he really fucking loves it.
“Yes.” He promises. “I’ll order some takeout for us first then we can do it again. Unless you want to do it now.”
You stay silent for a moment before nuzzling your face his sculpted chest. With your eyes closed, you let out a content sigh. “Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”
Mingyu caresses your head with a love stricken smile you can’t see. “Okay.”
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In retrospect, Minseo should’ve realized it sooner.
The signs were there—have always been there, apparently. It’s almost embarrassing that it took her so long to realize something was going on. Especially when she thinks back to the annual camping trip that took place a week ago.
It started off like all the other trips, except Mingyu insisted that you drive with him since he wouldn’t subject you to being a third wheel to his sister and Vernon. This was only the start of Mingyu’s unwarranted clinginess toward you. Minseo didn’t think too much of it because no one liked being the third wheel, and her brother always has a way of guilt tripping like no one’s business.
The campground looks beautiful covered in hues of red and yellow. Mingyu has brought along his camera and is already taking pictures and candids of everyone setting up their space. He especially captures some of you taking in the beautiful autumn scenery. You always looked so pretty when you had a look of awe and wonder on your face.
“I didn’t see you taking that many pictures of me.” Seungcheol teases as he peeks at the camera screen Mingyu is smiling fondly at.
His friend’s neck burns, and before he can think to say anything back, your voice grabs his attention. Seungcheol snickers quietly. It’s this simple action that Minseo’s attention again.
“Gyu.” You whine, holding up the tent you brought in frustration. “Help me.”
Her helpful brother goes over to you immediately like a puppy being called by its owner. Minseo should’ve thought more about the way he hands over his prized possession to Seungcheol like it’s nothing. The smitten smile he directs at you doesn’t seem that way to her in the moment, but again—hindsight.
Mingyu’s tone is playful as he asks you what you need. You don’t answer him because in the next second he tells you to follow the instructions in spite of the fact that he’s already starting to put the sticks together to actually lift the tent off the ground. Mingyu goes on to say that you should’ve gotten a smaller, one-person tent instead of a large dome tent big enough to fit five people inside.
“The guy at the store told me it would be easy to set up!” You whine with a frown. “And it’s not my fault the instructions are impossible to understand.”
Mingyu’s laughter is full of affection and adoration. He shakes his head fondly as he continues to build your tent for you. “You need to learn how to do these sorts of things.”
“Why? That’s why I have you.”
Once again, she should’ve thought more about the bashful look on Mingyu’s face and the way his ears and neck turned red. Instead, she chose to make sure that Vernon was setting up their own tent correctly because she had also bought one very similar to yours.
By the time everyone has their tents set up, the sun is starting to set. Mingyu helps Seungcheol start the fire while everyone else helps prepare the snacks and drinks.
The vibe is peaceful as you all settle around the fire. Mingyu claims the spot next to you, and you’re all too happy to have him by your side. It goes unnoticed, but now the image is clear in Minseo’s memories.
“Here.”
You look over to see Mingyu handing you a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Maybe it’s the way the setting sun hits face or maybe it’s the fact that he was careful not to burn the marshmallow since you didn't like that. Either way your chest throbs with something you’re sure is not appropriate to feel for your best friend’s brother.
“Thanks, Gyu.” You smile at him before you start making your s’mores.
The night progresses like this, with Mingyu roasting your marshmallows and you happily making the s’mores. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s right to keep doing this with him. He’s so sweet and attentive that sometimes this line you’ve drawn gets blurry. The worst part is that you don’t mind if that line isn’t clear because being with Mingyu is like having a cup of hot cocoa when it’s cold—comforting and appealing.
For now, you decide to enjoy the moment. Evaluating feelings and this deep affection you feel would have to wait.
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Fall has always been a special time for Mingyu. The leaves always change to beautiful red and golden colors, the weather turns the kind of crisp that’s invigorating, and it’s a time when family gets together. And possibly the most important reason: it’s the season when he met you.
He was only nine years old when you two met. It was a random autumn day meant to uphold the lifetime tradition of his parents taking him and Minseo to the pumpkin patch. Picking out pumpkins was something he looked forward to all year because it was a time where his entire family was together.
Mingyu vividly remembers being caught by surprise when his sister brought along an unexpected guest. She was holding the hand of a girl with a solemn expression that was a great contrast to her own bright one. Minseo cheerfully introduced the unknown girl as her best friend. You had offered him a barley-there wave that had him wondering how his sunshine of a sister could possibly like someone so closed off.
It was a misconception on his part because on the car ride to the pumpkin patch, he realizes his sister couldn’t have found a better friend. Minseo talks possibly more than he does, but you listened to every word attentively, like actually listen. Also, you offered her (and Mingyu after some shy contemplation) the snacks in your bag.
Your overly cautious attitude reminded Mingyu of his cousin’s unfriendly cat. Trying to get you to open up was a challenge, but you slowly started to warm up to him as the evening went on. He truly won you over after he offered to carry the heavy pumpkin you chose. The unsure pout you directed at him was adorable, and his heart just soared when you quietly thanked him.
“Here.” You huffed out, feeling embarrassingly shy as you stuck out your small hand.
Mingyu’s grin soothed the bashfulness. He thanked you for the candy you gave him, claiming that the caramel you put in his hand is his favorite.
Looking back on it, that was the first time you tugged on his heartstrings.
Of course, it was completely innocent back then. There was no way you could’ve known that Mingyu held on to that piece of candy for as long as he could until he forgot it in a pair of pants that his mom threw in the washer. Nor could you have known that as you two got older, it killed him just a little bit every time you referred to him as Minseo’s older brother.
These feelings don’t make sense in his mind, but it all becomes clear to him the fall of his junior year.
Just like all those years ago, you found yourself at the pumpkin patch. Except this time you don’t have either of the Kim siblings by your side. Minseo was hanging out with her almost-boyfriend and of course Mingyu hadn’t joined you two at the pumpkin patch for years now. You weren’t uncomfortable being alone, but it did feel odd picking out a pumpkin without Minseo inspecting it to make sure you picked one suited for carving.
In your lonely search, you meet Lee Chan. He too had been left alone after his friends went off with their respective partners. What you don’t realize is that your resident puppy boy is watching this kindred meeting from afar. Unbeknownst to you, Minseo had texted her older brother asking him to keep you company because she still felt sorry for leaving you alone.
At the time, Mingyu can’t explain why his chest feels strangely heavy. It feels like he can’t approach you despite knowing you wouldn’t be unhappy to see him. So he doesn’t even though it’s arguably one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Later that night, his mom helps him come to the conclusion that this icky feeling is none other than petty jealousy.
As a teenage boy who loved his little sister more than anything, this realization was devastating. It was very likely that Minseo would be upset if she ever found out her brother had a crush on her best friend. The fear of what would happen if his feelings ever came to light was the reason Mingyu decided to keep it a secret.
After all, it was just a small, harmless crush.
Unfortunately for Mingyu, this teeny tiny crush soon blossomed into something more intense that he’s not ready to acknowledge. Time goes by, and yet his feelings haven’t gone away even when he starts to date. It makes him feel icky, and most likely the reason why none of his relationships ever last.
When it’s time for him to leave for college, he thinks that maybe he can move on. Only, you never give him that chance.
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“Why don’t you ever bring enough clothes?”
It might seem like Mingyu is scolding you, but he’s actually only worried that you seem to value fashion over practicality. Your heart jumps when he takes off the scarf he’s wearing to put it around you, making sure it covers your neck and looks pretty with the outfit you’ve chosen. He doesn’t seem to notice that your eyes shine with endearment as he adjusts it to cover your mouth.
“Come on.” He absentmindedly grabs your hand, not realizing his touch is making your heart pound. “The cafe is only open for another hour.”
Mingyu had insisted that this new cafe had drinks to die for. So he waited until you got off work to go with you together. You’re glad his scarf covers the lower half of your face because you’re sure every single emotion you feel for him would be very obvious as he hands you a warm cup.
Walking in silence with Mingyu isn’t ever uncomfortable, but it does leave you to contemplate how you’re going to confess to him. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, and you hope he won’t be upset at your sudden feelings since you’re the one who insisted the sex between you two would be strictly platonic.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
It kills you that Mingyu can look so pretty while he’s tilting his head at you curiously. You let out a nervous breath. It was now or never.
“You told Minseo you took my virginity.”
The air goes still, and you feel like smacking yourself because that’s not at all what you were planning to say—not like that, anyway. Mingyu’s eyes practically pop out of his head as he feels a blush crawl up his neck and suffuse throughout his face. You don’t seem angry, but he can’t really tell with his scarf covering your face.
“I’m sorry!” He rushes. “I didn’t mean to, but—”
“I’m not mad.” You assure him with a laugh.
“You’re not?”
“No.” You let out a fond laugh. “And Minseo isn’t either.”
Before Mingyu can fully process your words, you crush him with a hug. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and press himself closer to you.
“I like you, Mingyu.” You confess, feeling like your heart is on the verge of exploding. “I like you so much.”
He stills in your arms. Slowly, he pulls away to look at your face. His expression is one of pure shock, and before you can brace yourself for any kind of rejection, Mingyu is kissing you.
The movements of his soft lips are needy and full of undeniable want. You moan into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much vigor. It all feels like a wonderful dream, especially when you whisper against his lips that you want to go back to your place.
If this is a dream, Mingyu wishes it could go on forever.
Having you kneeled between his parted thighs, worshipping his cock in the exact way he’s shown you how has him coming apart quickly. You’re slobbering all over him, saliva slipping down the sides of his dick to lubricate him.
“Fuck, Gyu. You have the prettiest cock ever.” You gush, entire body hot with arousal and want.
The way he actually blushes as you praise him has your cunt dripping with more juices. You can’t wait to wreck him and have him writhing in pleasure. His cock is throbbing as you continue to lick and stroke him with your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip, licking into the slit which causes him to let out a guttural groan. The moans you let out run through the length of his dick in the most pleasurable way.
Mingyu feels completely fucked out at this point. He can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at sucking his cock. And now, he’s going to be the only man to experience what that pretty little mouth can do.
“Y/N, fuck.” He cries out as his orgasm abruptly hits.
As always, Mingyu looks absolutely breathtaking when he comes. His mouth is dropped open as a pretty blush covers his entire face. Dark eyes are unfocused and dazed as he keeps releasing thick ropes of cum into your mouth. The way you keep pumping and sucking him to squeeze more cum out of him is starting to make him tremble.
You pull off his cock with a satisfied grin. Mingyu’s chest is heaving as you go to straddle him.
“Wait!” He pants out, slowly coming out of his euphoric bliss. “It’s your turn—”
“I want you to fuck me now.”
Mingyu groans when he feels your creamy folds slide over his twitching cock. “But I really want to taste you.”
He’s so cute, you think as your cunt leaks with arousal. You hum in pleasure as you rub your aching cunt over the length of his dick. His fat tip is enveloped between your warm lips every time you grind forward while his heavy sack is slowly getting soaked with your arousal.
“Tell you what, puppy. After you fill me up with your cum I’ll let you eat it out of me, okay?”
You feel his cock throb at your words as your cream covers him entirely. Mingyu nods cutely, and that’s all you need to grab his pulsing cock. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you tease him by circling his tip against your slick entrance.
Mingyu moans loudly when you sink down. A choked whimper is forced out of him as you take him entirely, puffy lips brushing against his pelvis. His thick veins drag against your hot walls deliciously until his heavy balls are flush against your ass. It’s like all the air is being shoved out of your body to make room for his cock.
“God, Y/N. I need you to move. Please.”
You slowly grind on his cock, juices dripping down to his big balls and making a mess all over him. It’s probably really hard for him not to fuck his cock up into you, and it really turns you on that he’s trying so hard. You can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. Literally you can feel it. His cock keeps throbbing inside you like it’s on the verge of exploding.
“Show me what I’ve taught you, baby.” His voice is sultry and tempting—something you can’t say no to.
Immediately, you start to gyrate your hips. You two moan in sync as your pussy clenches tightly on his cock. Mingyu sucks on his bottom lip, completely beginning to lose his composure. His hands go to your waist, slowly guiding you as his imploring eyes gaze up at you with unmatched desire.
“Fuck, Gyu!” You cry out. “You’re so deep!”
The sound of your pleased cry, Mingyu starts to move his hips to thrust up into you. He groans lowly because it feels like his aching cock is hitting the hilt of your sopping pussy. Your soft hands smooth over his naked torso, crying out his name as you feel every inch of his muscular chest.
“Mmmh, pretty girl.” Mingyu hums in pleasure as his big hands smooth down your body to grab your ass. “Fucking my cock just right. Feels so fucking good.”
When he starts to kiss and suck on your neck as his cock spears into you, the coil in your stomach snaps. You moan his name loudly as you come all over his dick. Loud squelching fills the room as he continues to bounce you on his lap. His thickness is stretching you deliciously, the unmistakable sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass mixing in with your moans of pleasure.
Mingyu fucks into you a few more times before you feel his hot, thick cum spurt inside you. His euphoric moan is as pretty as ever, and you can’t help but move your hips to fuck him through his high.
You sag against him, and it’s silent for a moment until you bring your lips to his ear. “I want more of your cum, puppy.”
That’s how you find yourself on your side with Mingyu behind you. Your back is pressed against his beefy chest as he lifts your leg up to expose your soiled cunt to the cool air. He nuzzled his nose into your neck before he trails it up to your cheek. Your body shivers as his arm breath fans against your ear.
“Watch how your pretty pussy stretches open for me.”
You wonder what he means until his other hand lifts up your chin delicately to look at the full body mirror he bought for you a week ago after you told Minseo you wanted it. His fat cock is teasing your entrance, and the filthy sight makes your cunt flutter in need.
Without a word of warning, Mingyu thrusts his thick dick inside you, heavy sack flush against your creamy cunt. You whine out in pleasure, feeling completely full and stuffed to the brim. It’s impossible to look away from the mirror because you can see how tightly your pussy is gripping him.
Mingyu’s cock throbs inside you as his skin tingles with desire. He starts to thrust slowly. The lewd wet sound coming from your cunt is erotic as it fills your room. You moan again when the hand that isn’t spreading you open comes up to play with one of your tits. The sensations of his cock hitting your sweet spot while his fingers pinch and pull on your erect nipple have you close again.
If you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure Mingyu’s throbbing cock is providing you with, you’d tell him to let you record because the sight of him doing you like this is one you want to remember forever. His thrusts start to pick up as your moans get louder. He’s groaning into your ear as his fat tip slams against your cervix.
Mingyu pounding into you while in this positions feels like he’s tearing your pretty little pussy apart. He messily kisses your jaw as start to tremble in his hold, grunting when you tighten around him once again like you’re trying to milk him.
“You look so pretty like this, baby.” Mingyu’s moan is low, but you hear it perfectly. “Sweet little pussy was made to take my cock.”
Your eyes roll back as you whimper out a nearly incoherent agreement. So lost in pleasure, you don’t realize your second orgasm is one thrust away.
“Mingyu!” You moan as your orgasm hits.
Juices spurt out obscenely and cover his entire cock and the sheets bellow you. Mingyu groans as he holds your legs wide open. He keeps fucking your messy cunt as you squirt all over him. All you can make out in your euphoric haze is Mingyu calling you pretty while his twitching cock keeps ramming deep into you.
“Fill me up.” You manage to mewl out as you turn your head to give him a sloppy kiss.
Mingyu moans into your mouth, thrusting into you deeply before he stills. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he floods your sloppy cunt with his cum. You swallow each others moans as he stuffs you full to the point where you can feel it leak out of you. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you is one of your favorite feelings which is why you’re eager to feel it at least one more time.
It’s why Mingyu is quick to put you into a different position, your legs pressed into your chest as he rams his aching cock inside you once again. Your fucked out eyes are the prettiest, and he knows that he’ll never get tired of that stare. He loves how your gaze never loses the affection you feel for him. It makes him feel like you’ll never leave him.
“You feel so good, Gyu.” You whimper as his big cock spears into you.
Mingyu roughly pounds into your ruined cunt, not holding back since he’s determined to fill you up one last time. His cock throbs as your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your pretty mewls and whines mix in perfectly with the sound of skin slapping. It only makes him fuck you harder.
His dick forces out an obscene amount of juices from your fluttering pussy. Mingyu is so deep that it almost feels like he’s in your guts. You always feel so full when he fucks you like this, and all you can feel is bolts of euphoria dancing across your skin.
“Come for me, pretty.” Mingyu urges sweetly as he hooks your legs over his shoulders. “Come all over my cock and cover me with your sweet cream.”
Somehow he feel just as deep from this angle. He keeps railing your tight cunt, splitting you open to fully claim you as his. Your senses go into overdrive when he slips his fingers down to your puffy clit to rub gentle circles. At this point you’re trembling beneath him, all thoughts gone as he thrust harder and deeper inside you.
Mingyu’s eyes are locked on the way your tight pussy swallows his thick cock. The way your cream covers him completely make him more ravenous. He’s hitting your spongy spot with mastered precision, and it only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in your stomach to snap.
Your moan is pornographic as your walls contract and your juices squirt out everywhere. Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter as you cover him with your orgasm. He groans loudly, loving how you can only seem to chant his name.
“God, you look pretty when you come on my cock. So pretty. Every. Fucking. Time.” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls.
Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around the thickness of his cock. Mingyu slowly releases your legs and goes to give you a passionate kiss. His hips move slowly as he fucks his cum back into you. With one last peck he pulls away and slowly eases his cock out of your messy pussy.
You moan again when he suddenly starts to lap up the mess between your legs. You’re too fucked out to stop him. That, and you did say he could eat his cum out of your pussy after you were done (plus it just feels so fucking good). He licks and sucks on your clit until there’s nothing left to lap up.
When he crawls back up your body, your insides clench at the erotic sight of him licking his lips. “So fucking sweet.”
You pull him down for another kiss. The taste of you two mixed together is so filthy yet so addicting that you have to lick every inch of his mouth. Mingyu pulls you flush against him as he continues to kiss you like he never wants to breath again.
Minutes later, you two are still in your bed, cuddling and unwilling to separate from each other.
“This feels like a dream.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.
You hum, running your finger tips along his biceps. “It’s not a dream. I really do adore you, Kim Mingyu.”
He buries his face in your neck, mumbling into your heated skin that the adoration he has for you is endless.
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erwinsvow · 5 months
Text
GOT WHAT YOU WANTED
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summary: you're rafe's best friend—kelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.
now spinning: too many nights by metro & future
word count: 11.5k
warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for beta’ing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ♡ (but sorry in advance if u don’t)
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truth be told, you didn’t like making rafe angry. 
it wasn’t fun for you, like other things were—watching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafe’s lap and feet over kelce’s legs. 
those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. you’re not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings aren’t really hurt, but right now you were being mean.
to jj that is. 
you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer he’d gotten you from the keg.
jj’s funny, he’s sweet too. it’s not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you. 
“so?” jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. he’s looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except you’re starting to feel bad about toying with him like this. 
“so?” you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire. 
jj’s nice—and you’ve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadn’t ever cared. he’d hated them from the moment he’d laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jj’s invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.
“you didn’t tell your other boy about this, did’ya?” you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.
“other.. boy?”
“cameron.” now you really flush—you certainly don’t want jj to think rafe is your other anything.
“no, no. we’re not dating. we’re just friends.”
“right, okay. you tell him about tonight?”
“no. it didn’t come up.”
“ah. got it.”
“why?” you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.
“nothin’. he’s just been starin’ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-” you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl he’s been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.
you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jj’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe can’t make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.
“sorry,” you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. “he’s crazy.”
“s’okay. not news to me, princess.” jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. “you okay?”
“yes. why wouldn’t i be?”
“well, uh, it doesn’t take a genius. even though, y’know, i am one, to know somethin’s up.” “no, jj, i promise, we’re ju-” “just friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i don’t know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and i’ll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.” you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve. 
and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.
but you also hate what rafe’s doing, the girl he’s with and the way he’s with her, the fact that he brought her here and still won’t stop shooting daggers into jj’s head. in short, you hate all of it. 
you lean in, resting your head against jj’s shoulder. 
“i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s going on with him. but, he’s here with a girl.”
“and you’re here with me.” jj wraps an arm around you. 
“yes, but not because-well, i don’t know.” it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesn’t show any signs of it.
“s’okay. don’t always have to know.” you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. “by the way, he’s still watching.” you smile, though you can’t tell which boy elicited it. “i mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-” you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.
“you’re telling me you don’t want a sugar mama?” he laughs at your words and you relish in it. 
it could be picture perfect—waves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.
“hey. we’re goin’. c’mon.”
“rafe-” you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.
“hey buddy, we’re a little busy. but uh, i’ll make sure she gets home safe-”
“guys-”
“wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, pogue-”
“tuck her into bed, and everything. don’t worry your little head ‘bout it-”
“m’gonna knock your little head out if you don’t get the fuck away from-” having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.
“what the fuck was that, rafe?” you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. how’s that fair—that he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you can’t so much as spend a moment alone with jj. 
whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead you’re just angry—he wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.
“how many times do i have to fuckin’ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-”
“he has a name,” you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didn’t have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. “and you can’t order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i can’t talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?”
“stop yellin’,” he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.
“why? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? where’d she go, by the way, i bet she’s missing you right about now-”
“shut up. shut it.” you don’t realize how far rafe’s dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.
“i’m sick of this rafe.” it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. “i’m not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because you’re not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. it’s not fair.” 
“i don’t. i don’t have a girlfriend.” you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.
“yes, you do.”
“no, i don’t.”
“you don’t?” you question, unbelieving. “you just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but she’s not your girlfriend?” you’re snarky like always—you still don’t know if he likes it or not.
“no, she’s not.” 
“bullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girl’s probably half in love with you-” “m’not dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didn’t say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckin’ maybank instead?”
“i’m not pulling anything with jj.” you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. “i-i like him.”
“no you fuckin’ don’t.”
“who are you to tell me-”
“you don’t like him. what you like is makin’ me fuckin’ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.”
you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you home—to your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” you sigh, looking back up at rafe.
“that’s it? you’ll see me tomorrow?”
“what else do you want me to say, huh?”
“are you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?”
“m’not ignoring anything-”
“so, i can’t see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?”
“shut up.”
“rafe,” you sound serious, as serious as he’s ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. “i’m not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies don’t agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-”
“what? what do you want?”
“the possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.”
“don’t talk like that.”
“rafe.” 
exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafe’s reaction to it. you’re not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but you’re not happy with the one you got. you don’t know what, if anything, would have pleased you. 
that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you can’t find the heart to look at his message yet. 
you’re sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterday’s anger and wondering why rafe thinks you don’t deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with. 
the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.
rafe’s wrong—like always. you really don’t like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you don’t want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.
“c’mon kid. get dressed. top’s got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.” you turn to look at rafe but don’t budge. he takes a look at you—dressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out. 
you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when it’s just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the house—the makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when you’re pretty like this it’s just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didn’t even notice you were wearing one of his shirts—something that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, he’s not gonna tell you any of that.
“are you adding deaf to stupid?” he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.
“i’m not coming. go away.” you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.
“c’mon. lunch is at the place you like. i’ll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.”
“is that your way of apologizing?”
“it’s not an apology.”
“of course it’s not. why would you say sorry? you probably don’t think you did anything wrong.”
“i didn’t.”
“mm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?” you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. “psycho.”
rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. he’s too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish he’d stop, you know he’s not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering what’s coming next.
“i… didn’t mean to make you upset.” you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. “and i didn’t see it from your side. so, m’sorry. about that part. nothin’ else.” you can’t help the slow smile that grows on your face—rafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought you’d never see the day.
“thanks rafe.”
“alright. get ready. truck’s still runnin’.” he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window. 
“that’s bad for the environment. and i didn’t say i forgave you.” snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and it’s hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.
“kid.” 
“what? i heard your apology, and i don’t accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-” rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.
“do you ever shut up?” you shake your head from your position, though you can’t really move. “what’s it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck ‘round? sleep with some, some fuckin’ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. you’re not gettin’ it.” he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.
“but you get to do it?” 
“that’s different-”
“no it’s not! you’re just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?” you shoot back.
“i don’t fuckin’ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-”
“ha-ha funny. you’re an-” when you finally get up and look at him, he’s staring at you. “what?”
“yeah. that’s fine.” he shrugs, like he’s just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. “you can sleep with me.”
“excuse me?”
“yeah. yeah, it’s a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.”
“rafe. shut up.”
“think about it,” he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea  you’ve ever heard in your life. “you get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.”
“how is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?”
“sheesh, kid m’tryna help you right now. offerin’ you a solution-”
“rafe?” “yeah?”
“get out.” you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.
“just think ‘bout it,” rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. “alright?”
“goodbye, rafe.” 
you listen to the sounds—him walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding inside.
sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when he’d be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didn’t help, but that’s all it was—a thought, not reality. 
then you wonder if it’s really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you. 
key word: maybe.
the idea that he’s still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. he’d have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement. 
maybe rafe’s right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it can’t be the worst idea in the world—kelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.
you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you weren’t about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.
.☘︎ ݁˖
rafe’s leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think he’s got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when you’re around, and he looks up before you’re even near him. 
“i knew you wouldn’t pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.”
“yeah. sure.” you put a hand on the counter to steady yourself—this is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him it’s only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.
“what?” rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.
“i thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.”
“and?” the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what he’s thinking—proud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking he’s doing such a service.
“and.. better the devil you know and all that.” you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.
“good. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?”
“right now?” you question, eyes widening. “what about tee time?”
“you’re the only who’s so horny you’re on the verge of jumping pogues. m’just tryna help you-”
“shut up!”your face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “by the way, between the two of us you’re the only one jumping pogues.”
“yeah, yeah. so not now, then?”
“a gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalry’s not dead.” you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you don’t want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.
“at this rate m’gonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.”
“shut up.” it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.
“yeah, yeah. they’re at the table near the window.” 
“thanks.” you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.
he’s not leaning against the bar anymore—he’s facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped. 
when you’re talking without ever shutting up, it’s hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now he’s taking it in—how easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you don’t seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning. 
you turn back and keep walking towards the table—rafe can tell you’re flushed. he’s fine with it, prefers it this way. anything’s better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.
if you’re horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you. 
kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. you’re being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you haven’t said a word to rafe the whole time.
“and where’d you two go off to last night?” kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.
“you guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean i’m not saying self-absorbed but-” topper adds, but you cut him off.
“you’re really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?” you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water. 
“easy,” rafe says, and normally you’d fire away something at him too, but this time you don’t. “we had somethin’ to take care of. but you got home didn’t you?”
“yes, but-” topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.
“then shut up ‘bout it.”
“kelce’s mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.” you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafe’s staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.
when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.
“you’re getting mean. y’know that means you’re spending too much time with him.” you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you. 
the idea of what you would normally say floats through your head—something funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.
“yeah. i guess i am.”
you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distance—it must have been his turn.
“you goin’ home?” rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.
“god. you scared me.” he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at you. “yes, uh, mom wants me home for something.”
“you need a ride?”
“no, i drove here, remember?” 
“oh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?” the words make you flush—stupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldn’t. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. “kid?”
“careful, rafe. you’re starting to sound like a boyfriend.” “yeah. and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 
sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, you’re at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no hands—since it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.
“hey, hey. m’joking, it’s just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and we’ll talk about it.” you spin on your heels to face him.
“talk about it? talk about what?”
“our.. arrangement. y’know talk about it..” he tilts his head stupidly and you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. “..fuck about it.”
“okay! that’s it. bye, rafe.” storming away, you almost wish you hadn’t heard what he called out after you.
“bye, kid. i’ll see you later.”
.☘︎ ݁˖
at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafe’s shirts, you were back to where you were this morning—brushing your hair. rafe doesn’t knock on your door, just barges in.
“oh my god-”
“hello to you too.” he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.
“how the hell do you keep getting in here?”
“what? your mom let me in.”
“you didn’t even text-”
“i told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.” he looks you over again. “nice shirt.”
“oh shut up.” you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. “so?”
“so?” he repeats. he’s smiling, you can just tell.
“aren’t we gonna talk about our arrangement? that’s what you told me at the club-” you finish in a mocking voice.
“what else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i don’t wanna see you with random guys.”
“i still don’t understand what’s wrong with the guys that i-” rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.
“of course you don’t understand. you don’t have’t think about this shit, because i think about it for you. what’d you gonna do when some guy starts sleepin’ with you ‘cause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?”
“oh.”
“exactly. so m’lookin’ out for you. this is better, trust me.” the thing rafe’s saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that there’s a real reason behind it.
“but what about that girl-” you ask, though you don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. rafe sighs.
“what about that girl?”
“are-are you gonna sleep with other people too?”
“no. m’too busy anyways. works out for both of us.”
“oh. okay. promise?”
“when have i ever lied to you?” you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. “promise.” you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.
“okay. thanks.” you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.
“alright. get on the bed.”
“rafe-”
“what? i just said-”
“you’re not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?”
“who the hell d’you think paid for your lunch?”
“i don’t know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?”
“ha-ha. get on the bed.”
“ugh. you’re so crass. i don’t even know how you get any girls-”
“yeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?”
you can’t think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe. 
you’ve see him naked before. he’s seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head. 
the first sign that this idea wasn’t going to go as planned should have been now—feeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you don’t realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.
rafe’s hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.
“wait-” you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafe’s. “are you sure? you don’t think it’s gonna be weird?”
“stop bugging out, kid.” he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.
“answer the question, asshole.” rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you can’t help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think he’ll be grinning like something’s funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.
he’s not smiling, he looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.
“you wearin’ anything under this?” 
he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touch—it’s hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no. 
“good girl.” 
your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still he’s not smiling, it’s more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties. 
you think he’ll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you can’t remember what you had even asked him. he doesn’t, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.
“y’ready?” he asks, and you nod, though you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. “relax.”
before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.
“rafe-” but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, “oh my god—!” 
“hah. good.” when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds he’s thought about a hundred times before but still can’t compare to the real thing. but of course, you don’t need to know any of that. “don’t get too loud. y’folks are downstairs, remember?”
you don’t seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. they’re just for him, and normally he’d want you screaming, but he can’t arouse too much suspicious, or your parents won’t ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.
you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingers—now three, though he didn’t realize when he’d added another—into you. 
rafe’s hard, and he can’t remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while you’re wet around his fingers. 
“rafe-” you mumble, the sound all muffled. “m’gonna, ohh-” he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand. 
limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skin’s hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.
“what?” you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have. he’s thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? who’s gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?
“nothin’.” 
“oh. okay.” you sit up against your headboard, pulling your—his—shirt down to cover up a little. “well, thank you.”
“yeah. no problem.” for a second he hestiates—briefly concerned you want him to leave now. “well? come on.” you’re trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.
“what?” 
“get the condom. you’re the one who said we’re doing it today.” rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea. 
he’s seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the other’s showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that he’s seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to. 
“god, you’re such a boy.”
“shut up.” 
“you shut up. you talked such a big game and now you’re just staring at my boobs-” he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.
“lie down.” biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. “spread your legs.” you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you can’t look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.
“what?” he’s been looking at your face the whole time.
“nothing. if i had known you were this big i would’ve asked a while ago-” rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.
“stop-” and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, “-making me laugh. shut up.”
“you’ve said shut up like thirty times but you won’t stop talking eithe-oh!” he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that you’re full of rafe quickly fading away. 
you should have known he’d be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friend’s face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.
you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and there’s nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.
he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you can’t discern anything but rafe’s quiet groans and heavy breaths. you’ve just cum but it doesn’t take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafe’s looking at you is only making them get louder. 
your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.
with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafe’s mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafe’s lips not leaving yours. 
you don’t know why—but you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.
he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy. 
rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.
“you didn’t last very long.” 
“and how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?”
“oh, whatever. where’s my shirt?”
“it’s my shirt,” rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafe’s standing, pulling on his shorts.
“are you leaving?” you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay. 
you do want him to stay, but you don’t want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry. 
“no.” he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest. 
“you kissed me,” you say quietly. you’re glad your face is pressed into his side, you don’t think you could handle looking at his face right now. “and you were quiet. i didn’t expect that.”
“your parents are downstairs, remember?”
“oh. i forgot.” you realize after that you don’t want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.
“is kissing off limits?” rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.”
“no.. it was nice.” you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafe’s chest in your ear. you’re no expert—though you fear you’re about to become one—but it seems faster than normal. “you want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.”
“no, kid. it’s fine.” you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.
“you can go.. if you need to.” you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes. 
“why? got nowhere else to be.”
“oh. okay.”
“turn the tv on. we’ll watch your stupid movie”
“really?” your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find you’ve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafe’s warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s not unusual, he’s done it before, but you don’t miss the fact that he’s decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.
“don’t ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.”
.☘︎ ݁˖
your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafe’s still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldn’t wake him up, nothing ever does. you don’t remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.
and the part where you slept with your best friend.
a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.
top: rafe can’t believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere
kelce: maybe princess finally killed him
top: stop hanging out without us
kelce: top lets just pull up next time
you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.
“you ditched playing video games for me? i’m so flattered, rafey.” 
“shut up.” he grumbles. “go back to bed. s’too early for this shit.”
“it’s nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.”
rafe turns over, and you can’t deny it’s nice to have him in your bed for once—it seems like you’re always sleeping at tannyhill.
“didn’t get enough exercise last night? you need more?”
you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.
“exercise? what exercise? i don’t remember that. you mean the boring sex?”
rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.
“you wanna say that again?”
“uhh-”
“in fact, why don’t you try and get up? ten bucks says you can’t even walk to the door.”
“i can’t believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-”
“don’t see you walking. m’waiting.” you toss one of your throw pillows at him.
“get out!”
“alright. i’ll say good morning to your parents on my way-”
“okay! wait, stay.”
“s’what i thought.”
“some way to say good morning,” you mumble, scrolling through your other messages—a text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.
“you woke me up.” 
“oh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.”
“there’s not much i wouldn’t skip for you.” you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.
“that’s so nice. are you saying i’m a great lay?” he rolls his eyes.
“i’m trying to- shut up. what’d they say?” he picks up his phone. 
about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says he’ll see you later.
you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. it’s hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.
but he doesn’t seem to think that way. he seemed fine. he’s better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you don’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t think you could handle it. 
with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope it’s easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that it’s really not. 
after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelce’s house. you’re invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying you’re staying home with your parents instead. 
the second you press send, rafe’s contact photo lights up your screen.
“rafe?” you answer it without even waiting.
“what, not comin’ tonight? you always come.”
“oh, um-” you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. “mom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.” the words feel stupid, though you hope he’ll believe it.
“okay. you gonna swing ‘round after?”
“no, probably not. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”
“yeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.”
“you too. tell them i say hi.”
the rest of your day flies by and it’s not long before you’re curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.
you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summer—snacks and a spin on the boat. if you don’t go, it’s going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you. 
you call topper while you pack your boat bag—grabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.
“what’s up?” top says, and you’ve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.
“what time are we going on the boat? and i’m bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?” topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruit—kelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.
“uh, i think noon. call rafe, we’re taking the druthers today.” crap. that’s what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think it—trying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing you’ve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. “do you have any of those oranges? the little ones?”
“i’ll bring ‘em. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? i’ll just meet you there.” your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.
“noon, yeah. i’ll text it.”
“thanks top.” 
you start an internal monologue on repeat—stop being weird about it. he’s still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps you’ve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boys’ button-ups that’s ended up in your closet somehow on top. 
walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you don’t hear any of the boys, and though nothing’s stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.
it’s like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric that’s barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on. 
“hey.”
“hey.” you look around. “nice weather.”
“yeah.”
“kelce and top running late? he told me noon.”
“those two are always late.” he’s staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that he’s looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.
“i packed mangoes. you liked them last time.”
“yeah, i did.”
“i just hope they’re sweet.”
“yeah. they probably are. sweet.” rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. “listen, kid-”
“it’s a great day. good weather.” 
“you already said that.”
“oh.”
“would you stop and look at me?”
“no, um,” you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. “sorry, i’m busy.” you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. he’s not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.
“you okay?” he asks, and you feel stupid.
“i’m fine.. are you okay?”
“yeah. but you’re actin’ weird.”
“well yeah, rafe. we slept together. it’s weird.”
“you were on board-”
“i was. i am,” you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. “doesn’t make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldn’t it be weird?” rafe’s face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. “okay. bad example. sorry.”
“yeah. m’just saying, i wanna make sure you’re okay. but i don’t regret it if that’s what you’re afraid of. and nothin’ has to change.” hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.
“right. nothing’s changed. you’re still rafe. i’m still me.”
“it doesn’t have to happen again, if you don’t want it to.” you stare up at him with crossed arms.
“why are you being so nice about it?”
“jeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick ‘bout it? sounds like you’d prefer that.”
“no, just. it’s weird when you’re nice.” you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. “y’know what i mean.”
“alright. i’ll stop being nice.”
“thank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.”
“probably still sleepin’. played until-” rafe keeps talking, but you realize you’re only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize you’re no better than the girls who chase after him. “what?”
“hm?” a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.
“you’re starin’.”
“oh. you think we have enough time before they show up?”
“time for what?” rafe stares at you while you stare at him. “oh.”
turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafe’s slamming into you from behind, and though it’s only the second time with him, you think there’s no pleasure in the world comparable.
from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe it’s just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows you’ll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that you’re scared it’ll rip.
“be—oh—careful,” you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought you’d be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.
“shut up,” rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one he’s stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldn’t let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when you’re asleep in his bed. “jus’ take it-”
you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but it’s when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really can’t take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear. 
he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though there’s visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.
“you okay?” he asks, trying to catch his breath. you don’t speak, just nod. “c’mon.” rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though you’re so tired you could fall asleep where you were.
“thanks.” you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. “sorry, i don’t have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?” “shut up, kid. m’not a hooker, you fuckin’ weirdo.”
“no, of course not,” you gasp, like you’d never suggest such a thing. “the correct term is escort, rafe. it’s all very american gigolo.”
“you watch too many movies.” but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck. 
“what’s so funny?” you hear top’s voice, freezing up. you catch rafe’s eye, before looking away
“nothin’, man-” rafe starts, but you start talking over him.
“just debatin’ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?” rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.
your days are on the boat are always fun—the boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your book—another romance beach read, of course. this one’s about two best friends falling in love. you can’t find the will to keep reading.
you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.
“are we going?” you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.
“yeah. why wouldn’t we?” kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.
“fun. what time?”
.☘︎ ݁˖
finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of top’s jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-island’s mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.
“are they celebrating something?” you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.
“yeah. the fact that it’s saturday night,” kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat. 
you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you can’t make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that it’s not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.
topper’s an idiot for boosting his wheels, and you’d told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now). 
you turn to look at rafe again but he’s not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafe’s probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.
inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks. 
the four of you end up like always—divided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someone’s old frat house. some girl top’s been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. you’ve only had two cups but you’re getting tipsy already, he can tell.
“top. top!” rafe shouts over the music, but he’s too busy talking to the girl to notice.
“man, he’s clearly busy,” kelce says with a laugh.
“i agree. looks like that one’s for you, rafe.” you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldn’t—he can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.
he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesn’t want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelce’s hands. 
if you were sober, you’d roll your eyes—you’d recognize that rafe missed on purpose. he’s better at this than all of you combined.
“give me five,” rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.
he’s gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. he’s standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.
“who the fuck is this?” rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.
“i dunno, kelce ran off with that chick he’s been hooking up with-” the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesn’t look up to see something that’s gonna piss him off, but it’s dashed in seconds—you hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot. 
he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.
“get lost.” the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. “get. lost.” you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.
“c’mon. we’re done with pong.”
“but i made the last one!”
“i said we’re done. y’lucky i don’t take your ass home.”
“we just got here. why would you take me home?” you question.
for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions you’re trying to bury, you still don’t understand the simple truth known to everyone that’s ever met you and rafe—he’s never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.
“what’s wrong?” you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.
“no. just.. stop talkin’ to strangers, s’all.”
“but he was nice!” you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took top’s jeep and not rafe’s truck, so there’s no spiked seltzer here for you. 
“no he wasn’t.” he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.
“yeah he was! don’t you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?” you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer. 
“alright, you’re cut off.”
the rest of the night goes by the same as all the others—kelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafe’s back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when he’s counting the cash she’s handed him. 
you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.
“don’t worry,” kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. “he didn’t even look at her.”
“what?” but his eyes aren’t on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldn’t, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.
“wait, don’t-” kelce calls out after you, but you don’t listen.
“rafe, i think top’s ready to go. are you?” you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that you’re doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasn’t even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from top’s grip.
“yeah, kid. c’mon, this place is dead anyways.” you smile, though you shouldn’t let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch. 
you shouldn’t look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.
this is fucked—the very thought sobers you. you shouldn’t be happy that those girls think there’s something between you and rafe, but you are. 
rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. he’s drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking he’s going to make some joke about top and tequila.
“you’re just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-”
“what?” you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.
“kelce, it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t puke in the back.”
“man, why am i always on top watch-”
in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with top’s head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.
“did you sell a lot?” you ask. you’ve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didn’t expect it tonight.
kelce’s words linger in your head. if you weren’t sober before he said that, you certainly are now. 
“enough. why?”
“just wondering. i saw you before we left, that’s all.” you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song you’d put on.
“you saw me?”
“with the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth—you sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you don’t want rafe to know already.
“what, you jealous, kid?”
“why would i be jealous? you’re not my boyfriend.” it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelce’s voices in the backseat.
“no, m’not.” 
you bite your cheek and stare out the window. 
“not to interrupt, or anything, but i think top’s gonna puke-” you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.
tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so it’s three am before the four of you get back.
you want to go home—the alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but it’s three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you don’t want to ask rafe.
you decide that you don’t want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts you’d brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing it’s one of rafe’s. did you own a single t-shirt that wasn’t from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?
grumpy that you’re in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasn’t your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafe’s voice saying your name.
“where the hell are you goin’?” facing him, you stare at your feet.
“the couch.”
“when have you ever slept on the couch here?”
“i’m starting something new.”
“get in bed before i drag you there.” you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.
you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what you’ve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.
“you-” you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. “suck!” the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.
rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.
“what the hell was that?”
“this whole thing was a mistake.”
“it’s been two days.”
“well i’m an emotional fuck!”
“yeah, i can tell.” you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafe’s side with it.
“ugh! you can’t just-” your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. “-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you don’t want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?” 
���i don’t know! you’re the fuckin’ clueless one. what’d you think that means?”
“stop! just tell me! stop making me think, i’m so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-”
“well stop throwin’ my own pillows at me!”
“you suck, rafe. all of this and you can’t just tell me whether you like me or not?” 
in hindsight, you don’t know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasn’t willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emerged—rafe cameron doesn’t have girlfriends, doesn’t do relationships. the rafe that’s been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you weren’t in love with him.
or at least you thought you weren’t in love with him. and at least, he thought you weren’t in love with him.
the truth, you’re beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow you’re about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along there’s been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl that’s not you. 
you thought rafe’s a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but you’re the bitch that can’t stand seeing him with another girl.
and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that there’s no one in the world he likes more than you.
“you should have told me ‘bout the emotional fuck part.”
“you should have just confessed.”
“nah, not really my thing.” he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”
“it’s been two days,” you mock.
“yeah, well, we tried it.”
“do you regret it?” you hold your breath for the moment of truth.
“c’mon kid. yeah, i do. ‘cause i’m not letting you out of my sight after this. you’re dating me or no one at all.”
“so if we break up-”
“straight to the convent for you. don’t worry, i’ll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-”
“shut up.”
“you shut up. and get the fuck into bed. it’s late.”
“you don’t want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?” you tease, crawling under the sheets. “learn how to read a clock. it’s past midnight.”
“oh. whatever, you know what i mean.”
“i guess i can be convinced-” he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.
“guys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.”
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notthestarwar · 1 year
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are you normal or do you print out your ao3 comments and make them in to a little book so you can look at them all together when ur feeling sad
#can neither confirm nor deny if this book exists#but i will say: it sure is nice to look at when i'm having a 'what even is the point' kinda day#you know that post that talks about how you should look at ao3 interactions like you're doing a little book reading#i think about that a lot#cause yeah i write for me but if i didnt know ppl were reading stuff i probably wouldnt bother posting#and going to the effort of making it understandable to a brain other than mine if i didnt think other ppl got anything from it#but getting a comment really is like 'oh my god there really is a person out there reading this'#and when they mention they agree with a certain take. then i'm like. omg. this feels like community you know#whats that one post thats like 'people arent looking for commnents. they are looking for community'#theyre right.#its easy to get caught up in stats and be like 'oh this is barely any ppl' especially if you start comparing (thats the mind killer)#but the truth is. the comments that i do get? thats like a ginormous amount of ppl#if they were all looking at me in a coffee shop. i dont know if i'd be able to do a reading lol. i'd get stage fright#not of the stuff that ends up on ao3 anyway. it's not stuff i'd ever put somewhere non anonymously. cause its all like#showing a bit more of me than i'd show in a coffee shop you know. thats me working through stuff. but still ppl are interacting!#that feels big.#i think cause a lot of my stuff is like 'heres a irl problem made worse so its brought to the forefront and has to be addressed'#which means its all pretty depressing but in a way i find cathartic. you know. its a tragedy but their story was worth telling.#it was worth it. so when another person sees the catharisis there. it makes it seem possible.#its not just wishful thinking. working through that issue would be hard and painful. but it would be worth it all the same. that guy agrees
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just-aake · 6 months
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Detecting Love
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.
Warnings: fluff, light angst
Words: 6169
You have the power to detect lies. 
Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 
Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.
People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.
And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 
Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.
Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.
There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.
There was no cheating.
There was no fighting.
It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.
That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.
It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.
These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.
Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.
You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 
It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 
And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 
You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.
At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.
With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.
Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 
Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.
She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.
“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.
She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.
She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”
Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.
The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.
“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”
Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 
“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.
At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.
Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.
However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 
A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.
There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.
Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.
“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”
You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.
Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 
Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.
Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.
Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.
Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.
A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.
“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.
Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 
You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.
Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.
Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 
“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.
At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.
“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.
Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.
“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”
Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.
“You’re lying.”
Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 
The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.
“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 
At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.
However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 
Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 
As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 
When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.
The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 
What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.
Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.
“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”
She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.
“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”
After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 
Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.
You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.
“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.
She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.
“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”
“How did you…?”
She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 
Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.
Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 
After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.
“I told you yesterday,” she replies.
You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.
“Remind me again.”
Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 
“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”
Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”
“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”
Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.
So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 
“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”
A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.
You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.
But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.
“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 
“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”
“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.
Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 
“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 
“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”
Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.
If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.
Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.
“Fine, what do you know?” 
Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 
Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.
As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.
“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.
“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.
Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”
“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.
Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 
The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.
“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 
The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 
If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.
After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.
“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”
Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 
“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”
“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.
“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”
From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.
However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 
Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”
Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.
“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 
You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”
“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”
“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”
Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.
You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 
For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.
After a moment, you break the silence this time.
“So, what’s the job?” 
Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.
“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”
“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 
“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”
At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.
“That’s confidential.”
You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.
“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”
Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.
“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”
“People like you?” 
“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”
You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.
“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”
A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.
Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.
Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.
“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”
At her words, you pause to consider your options. 
A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 
Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.
Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 
You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.
At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 
“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”
“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.
A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.
You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.
“Liar.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”
You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 
Still, the impact has you stumbling back.
“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”
A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 
You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.
Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 
At least you used to.
This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.
With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.
You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.
You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.
“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.
Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.
“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.
“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”
Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.
“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.
“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.
It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.
Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.
Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.
Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.
You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.
Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 
After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.
However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.
Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.
But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.
With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.
Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.
“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.
Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.
Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.
“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."
Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.
“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.
“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”
Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.
Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”
“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.
Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”
You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.
She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.
“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”
You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.
But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.
“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”
You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.
“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”
You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
“What’s this?”
Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.
She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.
Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.
“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”
Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.
Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 
As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.
You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.
Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 
“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 
Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.
After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.
Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.
“No, of course not,” you tell her.
As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.
After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.
“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.
Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.
“Of course, I will.”
Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.
After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.
You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.
A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.
A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.
To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.
Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 
“I’m in love with her…”
Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.
“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.
Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.
She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”
You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.
“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”
Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.
Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.
“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”
There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.
“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”
You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”
“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.
A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.
“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.
You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”
“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”
She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”
Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 
“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”
She swats your hand away.
“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”
A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.
“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.
“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.
Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.
“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.
Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.
“I’m in love with her.”
Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.
Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 
A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 
With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.
"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"
The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.
Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.
However, now comes the final question of the interview.
“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”
Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 
Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.
“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”
After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."
Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.
"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.
As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.
With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.
“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.
Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.
You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”
Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.
“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.
“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.
Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.
“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.
Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."
"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.
Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.
"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.
Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.
“Name?” you begin.
Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.
“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.
“Natalie,” you mock.
Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.
“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.
Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.
“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.
“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.
“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”
This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."
As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.
By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.
"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.
Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.
“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.
After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.
“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.
“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”
Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.
“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.
Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.
Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.
“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.
You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.
“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.
“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.
Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.
Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.
Summoning your courage, you face her directly.
“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.
“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”
There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.
Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.
“No,” her voice responds to your question.
Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.
As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.
I’ll pick you up tonight. 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Part 2
a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.
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pucksandpower · 6 months
Text
Live Like We Want To
Charles Leclerc x Wolff!Reader x Lewis Hamilton
Summary: there’s only one thing harder than keeping a relationship between two of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden … keeping a relationship between three of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden
Warnings: 18+ content
Based on this request
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The drivers settle on the awkwardly shaped white couch, microphones clipped carefully to the collars of their shirts, waiting for the pre-race press conference to begin.
Lewis fiddles with his Mercedes cap, lost in thought. Lando and Daniel banter back and forth, Lando ribbing Daniel about his recent attempts to be artsy on Instagram and Daniel giving as good as he gets.
The moderator steps up to begin the press conference. After a few standard questions about the track and the upgrades the teams have brought, it’s time for the driver questions.
A reporter looks over at Lewis. “Lewis, you and Y/N seem very close lately. There’s been speculation you two might be dating. What do you say about that?”
Lewis opens his mouth but before he can respond, Daniel jumps in. “Oh come on, we all know Lewis is way too old for Y/N! She needs someone younger and spicier.” He winks at the camera.
Lando chuckles. “Too right, mate. Y/N deserves a fun guy who actually knows how to have a good time, not someone almost eligible for a senior discount.”
Lewis forces out a rehearsed laugh. “Hey now, I’m not that old!”
“Face it, the age gap is just too much. She needs someone closer to her own age, like me!” Lando says with a grin.
“You?” Daniel scoffs. “Please, Y/N needs a real man to show her a good time, not some baby-faced kid.”
“Who are you calling a kid?” Lando shoots back. “I’m mature for my age!”
Max, who has been quiet up until now, suddenly pipes up. “Actually, I think Y/N and I would make a great match ...”
The other drivers swivel their heads to look at him. “You?” Daniel says in disbelief.
“Why not?” Max shrugs. “We’ve got a connection.”
Lewis grits his teeth, struggling to stay quiet. He wants to tell them all to back off, that you’re taken. But he knows he can’t reveal the truth about your relationship, as much as it pains him to stay silent.
Lando laughs. “Mate, she’s way out of your league!”
“Oh yeah? I could get her if I wanted to,” Max says defensively.
Daniel grins and claps Max on the back. “Ooh, those are fighting words! You don’t stand a chance.”
Max crosses his arms. “Maybe she likes a bad boy. I’m more exciting than any of you.”
“Exciting? You?” Lando pretends to yawn. “All you ever think about off the track is sim racing! That’s not exciting, it’s dull.”
“Hey! Sim racing is very intense and takes a lot of skill,” Max says indignantly.
Lewis has finally had enough. “Alright guys, maybe we should change the subject. I’m sure Y/N can decide for herself who she wants to spend time with, without all of us bickering over her.”
Lando ignores Lewis and looks back at Max, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I bet I could get Y/N to go out with me before you can.”
“You’re so on!” Max says.
Daniel shakes his head. “Woah now, let’s leave the poor girl out of your competition. Especially since neither of you have a chance anyway.”
“Oh really? I suppose you think you’re the obvious choice?” Max says sarcastically.
“Obviously!” Daniel replies with a cocky grin.
As the three younger drivers continue with their posturing, Lewis pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. He catches the moderator’s eye and nods, signaling it’s time to move on.
The moderator clears his throat. “Alright, next question ...”
After the press conference ends, Lewis hurriedly gathers his things. As he’s walking out of the media center, Max catches up to him.
“No hard feelings about all that, mate?” Max says sheepishly.
Lewis musters up a smile. “Of course not. It was all in good fun.”
“Cool.” Max nods. “For what it’s worth, I don’t actually have a thing for Y/N. I was just messing around back there.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis says, clapping Max just a tad too hard on the shoulder before turning to go. Over his shoulder he calls out, “May the best man win!”
Max laughs and shakes his head as Lewis walks away.
Lewis enters the Mercedes garage and immediately spots you chatting with the engineers. His heart skips a beat like it always does when he sees you. A vision in a crop top and skinny jeans, your hair cascading over your shoulders as you lean over a data sheet, nodding intently.
So beautiful.
You glance up and spot Lewis. Your face lights up, a radiant smile spreading across it. Lewis grins back, the stress of the press conference fading away.
He waits until you’re done talking to the engineers, then pulls you discreetly aside. In an empty meeting room, Lewis wraps you in a tight embrace.
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling your hair.
You cling to him. “I missed you. How was the press conference?”
Lewis hesitates. “It was … interesting.”
You pull back to look at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there were some questions about us. Our relationship.”
Your eyes widen. “What did you say?”
“Nothing! Don’t worry, I didn’t reveal anything. But the other drivers jumped in with their opinions.”
You groan. “Do I even want to know?”
Lewis runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Well, apparently I’m way too old for you. Daniel, Lando, and Max all started competing over who would be your best match.”
You snort. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis says. “I wanted to tell them you’re mine, but ...”
“You did the right thing keeping quiet,” you say gently, taking his hands in yours. “We knew this wouldn’t be easy, keeping our relationship a secret.”
Lewis sighs. “I just hate not being able to claim you as my girlfriend in public. Having to pretend I don’t care when other guys flirt with you.”
You squeeze his hands supportively. “I know. But my dad would freak if he knew I was dating you. He’s so overprotective. And the press would have a field day if they found out Lewis Hamilton was seeing Toto Wolff’s daughter.”
“You’re right,” Lewis says. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
You smile softly at him. “Just think, one day we won’t have to hide anymore. We’ll be out and proud for the whole world to see.”
Lewis grins. “I look forward to that day.” He pauses, gazing at you tenderly. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper.
Lewis glances around quickly before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. All the stress and frustration of pretending melts away as your lips meet.
You come up for air a few moments later, both flushed. “We should get back before someone notices we’re gone,” you murmur.
Lewis nods reluctantly. “See you after quali?”
“Definitely.” You give him one more quick peck then slip out of the room, back to the bustle of the paddock.
Lewis watches you leave, his heart full.
One day there will be no more hiding. One day you’ll be free to share your love with the world.
He just has to be patient. You’re worth the wait.
***
You’re sitting outside of Mercedes hospitality between practice sessions, chatting with Mick Schumacher. Mick is eagerly telling you about his experience getting to take the W15 out in FP1 that morning when Charles Leclerc wanders over.
“Hello Y/N, Mick,” Charles says with an easy smile.
“Oh hey Charles, what’s up?” You say casually, hoping he makes this quick. Ever since that silly press conference, Charles has been popping up everywhere trying to get your attention.
“Not much. You’re looking beautiful as always,” Charles says, ignoring Mick and focusing his gaze on you.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Um, thanks?”
Mick glances between you two and starts to stand up. “I’ll give you guys some space.”
“No, stay!” You say quickly, grabbing Mick’s arm. You turn back to Charles. “Did you need something?”
“Just wanted to come say hi, see how you’re doing.” Charles drags over a chair and sits down close beside you. Too close.
You slide your chair away ever so slightly. “I’m fine, thanks. Just hanging with Mick.”
Charles nods, but his eyes stay fixed on you. “Have you given any more thought to grabbing dinner sometime? I know this great little restaurant in the city, very private and intimate.”
“That’s really nice of you, but I’ll have to pass,” you say politely. Mick looks back and forth between you two, a faint smirk on his face.
Charles pouts. “Come on, it would be fun! No pressure, just two friends enjoying a nice meal.”
You resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think you’re that naive? “Sorry Charles, but I’m going to be really busy this weekend. Raincheck?” You have no intention of ever taking him up on the offer, but maybe it will get him to back off for now.
“Playing hard to get? I like it,” Charles winks.
You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying what you really think. Time for a subject change. “So, you feeling good about the race this weekend?”
Charles sighs, finally moving away from the topic of dating you. “I think the car has potential, but Red Bull are still the ones to beat.”
You nod. “Very true. They have been especially dominant here the past few years.”
“We’ll see what happens. Maybe I can get pole and shock them all,” Charles says with a smile.
You chat about racing for a few more minutes before glancing at your phone. “Oh shoot, I have to get going. Meeting with my manager.” You stand up quickly. “See you later Charles. Bye Mick!”
Charles grabs your hand as you start to walk away. “Leaving already? At least let me walk you to your garage.”
You pull your hand back, perhaps a bit too forcefully. “I’m fine, thanks. Stay and chat with Mick!” You give them a little wave before briskly walking off.
As you make your way through the paddock you hear footsteps behind you. Glancing back you see Charles jogging to catch up with you. You bite back a groan.
“Y/N, wait up!” Charles calls after you. He hurries to your side, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I just thought I should properly apologize for being so forward back there. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”
You stop walking and turn to face him. “It’s okay, Charles. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
He looks relieved. “Good, I’m glad. The last thing I want is to upset you.” He shuffles his feet, looking down shyly. “I really do think you’re amazing, Y/N. Any guy would be so lucky to be with you.”
You soften a bit. As persistent as he is, you know Charles is a good guy at heart. “Thank you. I think you’ll find the right girl someday.”
“Well, I was rather hoping the right girl was standing in front of me now,” Charles says earnestly.
You shake your head. “Charles ...”
“I know, I’m being too bold again,” he says. “Please, just consider it? One dinner. If you hate it and never want to see me again, I’ll accept that.”
You hesitate. Maybe it would be easier to just go, let him down gently in person. But no … that’s too risky. If word got out it could compromise everything with Lewis. As much as you want to set Charles straight, you just have to keep playing hard to get.
“Like I said, just too busy right now,” you say firmly. “I should get to my meeting.”
Charles nods, looking slightly dejected. “Of course. Well, the offer stands. I’m not giving up that easily.” He smiles and heads off with a small wave.
Over the next two days Charles remains persistent, finding excuses to talk to you in the paddock and complimenting you endlessly on social media. You continue dodging his invitations, letting him down as gently as you can.
Sunday morning you’re doing a photoshoot for British Vogue, posing on the track. Charles happens to walk by as you’re finishing up. He saunters over and leans on the barrier, watching you intently. The photographer notices him hovering and suggests you take a quick picture together.
Charles immediately hops the barrier and throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. You plaster on a smile as the camera flashes.
“Beautiful! What an attractive couple,” the photographer gushes.
You extricate yourself from Charles’ grip. “We’re not … I mean we’re just friends,” you mutter.
“My mistake!” The photographer says. Charles just grins.
After the photoshoot ends you try to make a quick exit but Charles catches up and falls into step beside you.
“One picture together and we’re already mistaken for a couple! It must be a sign,” Charles says playfully.
You resist rolling your eyes again. “Clearly you’re not getting the message here. I’m not interested in anything beyond friendship.”
Charles just smiles wider. “Ah, but friendship is the basis for any lasting romance. I’m happy to start as friends and see where it goes.”
You stop walking and turn to him. Time for some straight talk. “Charles. Listen to me. I do not want to date you. At all. Please stop asking.”
Charles’ smile finally falters slightly. “I see. My apologies, I clearly misread the situation.”
You feel a twinge of guilt at his crestfallen face. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just forget it and move on.”
Charles nods, looking thoughtful. For a moment you think maybe he’s finally going to back off. But after a pause he says, “Well, since romance is off the table for now, friendship it is.”
You stare at him in disbelief. Is this guy for real?
Oblivious to your incredulous expression, Charles just keeps talking. “The season’s almost over, but I look forward to seeing much more of you next year when Lewis is my new teammate.” He winks.
It takes you a second to process his words. When they sink in your eyes go wide. “Wait, Lewis is joining Ferrari next season?”
“Oh, has it not been announced yet?” Charles grins mischievously. “My mistake. Forget I said anything.”
You grab his arm. “Charles, tell me!”
He mimes zipping his lips.
You groan in frustration. “Ugh, fine. Keep your secret for now.” You’ll get the truth out of Lewis later.
Charles just smiles innocently. “See you around, friend.” He strolls off with a little wave, finally leaving you in peace.
You shake your head as you watch him go. Next year is sure to be interesting with Charles around. But you take comfort knowing that no matter what, you and Lewis can get through it together.
***
The 2025 season kicks off in Melbourne. You’re wandering the paddock under the bright Australian sun, dodging TV crews and trying not to get run over by the team scooters zipping every which way.
As you pass by the Ferrari garage you peek inside, spotting Lewis talking to some engineers. He glances up and meets your eye, giving you a subtle smile before returning to his conversation.
Your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s been nonstop media obligations since arriving in Albert Park and you haven’t had a moment alone with Lewis yet. Between his big move to Ferrari and the speculation about your relationship, you’ve been the center of attention.
You linger nearby, hoping to snag a private moment with Lewis. As you hover just outside the garage you hear footsteps approaching. Glancing over you see Charles strolling up, looking effortlessly cool in his team kit.
“Well hello there,” Charles says with a grin. “Come to wish me luck before qualifying?”
You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “You caught me. I snuck over to send positive vibes your way.”
Charles chuckles. “I knew you couldn’t resist coming to see me.”
You shake your head amusedly. Same old Charles. “Actually I was looking for Lew-” you stop yourself just in time. “Um, just wandering around saying hi to everyone!”
Charles’ eyes gleam knowingly but he doesn’t call you out on your near slip-up. “Of course. We’re happy to have Lewis join the Ferrari family. Should be a fun season.”
You nod. “Definitely. I might have to frequent the Ferrari garage more often,” you add teasingly.
“You’ll always be welcome here,” Charles says. “In fact, there’s an open seat on my side of the garage. You’re more than welcome to join.” He smiles invitingly.
You hesitate, tempted despite yourself. Before you can respond you hear Lewis calling Charles from inside the garage.
“Charles! The debrief is starting soon, let’s go.”
Charles turns back to you with an exaggerated sigh. “Duty calls. But think about my offer, yeah? Plenty of races left this season for you to cheer on your favorite driver.” He winks before jogging into the garage.
You catch Lewis’ eye as Charles brushes past him. Lewis gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you’re okay. You smile reassuringly before blowing him a subtle kiss and walking away.
Over the next few races you find yourself spending more time with Ferrari than you expected. You tell yourself it’s just to support Lewis in his first season with a new team, but a small voice in your head whispers that it’s really to see Charles.
Despite your better judgment, you can’t deny enjoying Charles’ flirty banter and shameless pursuit of you. And clearly he doesn’t intend to back down now that Lewis is his teammate. If anything, Charles seems more determined than ever to win your affection.
By the time the Chinese Grand Prix rolls around, you’re dangerously close to having a full blown crush on Charles. Sitting in the Ferrari garage watching him joke around with the mechanics, you have to refrain from staring at him too obviously.
After qualifying, you wait around hoping Lewis or Charles have time to sneak away for a bit. You spot Lewis first and flag him down. He follows you to a secluded spot behind the paddock.
“Great lap today,” you say, rising on tiptoes to kiss him congratulations.
Lewis smiles against your lips but you can tell his mind is elsewhere. “Thanks love. Listen, can we talk?”
You pull back, brow furrowing in concern. “Of course, what’s up?”
Lewis runs a hand over his face. “I wanted to ask how you’re feeling about this whole situation with Charles.”
You tense up slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And if I’m being honest … I’ve noticed some looks going the other direction as well.” Lewis keeps his voice neutral and non-accusatory.
You bite your lip. No point lying to him. “I’m sorry. I tried to ignore him at first but he’s just so charming and persistent. I swear nothing has happened between us though!” You add hastily.
Lewis rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “I believe you, don’t worry. But it seems there might be some mutual attraction there, even if you haven’t acted upon it. I think we should discuss that openly.”
You nod slowly. As nerve wracking as this conversation is, you appreciate Lewis’ calm approach. No jealousy or accusations, just honest communication.
“You’re right,” you say. “I’ve been trying really hard not to, but I can’t deny feeling drawn to Charles.” You look down, ashamed to admit it out loud.
Lewis lifts your chin gently. “Hey, it’s okay. Emotions aren’t always rational. I’m not upset with you.”
You smile gratefully. “You’re the best, you know that? What did I do to deserve someone so understanding?”
“Just got lucky I guess,” Lewis says with a wink, making you laugh. His expression turns serious again. “But we should figure out what to do moving forward. Any ideas?”
You take a deep breath. Time to put all cards on the table. “Well, there is one possibility. But it’s a bit unconventional ...”
Lewis raises his eyebrows. “I’m open to anything. What were you thinking?”
You rush out your words before you lose your nerve. “What if we brought Charles into the relationship? As in, invited him to be with us?”
Lewis’ eyes widen in surprise but he doesn’t immediately shoot down the suggestion. “You mean the three of us, together? Huh.”
He looks thoughtful. You fidget nervously awaiting his verdict. This could make or break everything.
Finally Lewis meets your anxious gaze. “I admit that’s not what I was envisioning … but I’m not opposed to at least exploring it.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. “Really? You’d be open to trying?”
Lewis nods slowly. “If we all discussed it openly and set clear boundaries, I would consider it. I want you to be happy, Y/N. Even if that means expanding our relationship.”
You throw your arms around him. “Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to have your support with this.”
Lewis hugs you tight. “Of course, love. We’re in this together.”
You chat excitedly about the possibility of bringing Charles into your private world. It’s risky, but maybe just crazy enough to work.
“Why don’t we invite him up to the penthouse tonight and see how the chemistry is?” Lewis suggests.
Your pulse quickens at the thought. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Lewis kisses you softly. “Alright then, it’s a date. I think you should go talk to Charles.”
Tonight will determine if you move forward as a trio or close the door on this tantalizing new dynamic. Either way, you’re grateful to be exploring it together with the man you love.
***
You smooth down your dress for the tenth time, nerves and excitement warring within you.
Tonight’s the night.
Taking a deep breath, you glance around the penthouse one more time. Candles cast a soft glow, music plays quietly in the background, and wine chills on the counter. Time to see if this fantasy can become a reality.
Lewis emerges from the bedroom looking unfairly hot, designer shirt hugging his muscular frame. He wraps you in his arms from behind, meeting your anxious gaze in the floor-length mirror.
“You ready for this, love?” He asks, lips brushing your neck.
You shiver and lean back into him. “I think so. Are you sure you’re okay with it though? We can call it off if you’ve changed your mind.”
Lewis smiles reassuringly. “I haven’t. We’ll take it slow and see how it feels. No pressure.”
You smile back gratefully. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”
“Mm, feel free to say it more,” Lewis teases, making you giggle. He kisses you tenderly. “Let’s do this.”
Right on cue, the doorbell rings. You and Lewis exchange one more weighted look before going to answer it.
You open the door to find Charles standing there, looking ridiculously handsome as always. His eyes widen almost comically as he sees Lewis over your shoulder.
“Lewis! What are you doing here?” Charles stammers out.
You bite your lip to hide a smile. “Why don’t you come in?”
Still looking baffled, Charles steps inside. You lead him to the sleek living room, Charles glancing around in confusion.
“Have a seat,” Lewis says kindly. Charles perches on the edge of the grey suede couch, visibly wondering what the hell is going on. You and Lewis sit across from him on the loveseat.
“So … is one of you going to explain what’s happening?” Charles asks slowly.
You look to Lewis. “Maybe you should start?”
Lewis nods and turns to Charles. “Right, so I’m sure you’re very confused about all this. But there’s something Y/N and I need to tell you.”
He reaches over and takes your hand. You give it a supportive squeeze.
“Y/N and I are together. Romantically,” Lewis reveals. “We’ve been dating in secret for over two years now.”
Charles’ eyes bug out of his head. “You two are … WHAT? Since when?”
“Since midway through the 2022 season,” you explain gently.
“But … but ...” Charles splutters. He looks between you and Lewis, dumbfounded. It would be comical if you weren’t so nervous.
“I know this must be shocking to hear,” you say. “We’ve had to keep it very quiet.”
Charles drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. If you’re together, why am I here?”
You glance at Lewis. “Go on,” he says with an encouraging nod.
You turn back to Charles. “Well, the thing is … we’re very attracted to you too, Charles.”
Charles freezes, eyes zeroing in on you. “You … you are?” He whispers.
You nod, holding his gaze. “I tried to ignore it, but I have feelings for you. And Lewis and I have discussed exploring what it would be like if the three of us … were together.”
Charles just stares, mouth agape. You start to worry you’ve broken him.
“Charles?” You prompt gently. “Thoughts?”
Charles visibly shakes himself. “I just … I need a minute here,” he mutters. He puts his head in his hands, taking a few deep breaths.
You nod understandingly and fall silent, letting the information sink in. After a tense minute, Charles lifts his head.
“So you two want to try some kind of … polyamorous relationship? With me as your shared boyfriend?”
“Only if you’re interested,” Lewis clarifies. “We know it’s unconventional.”
Charles chews his lip thoughtfully. “And you would be okay sharing her?” He asks Lewis.
Lewis squeezes your hand. “It’s not about possessing her. It’s about all of us wanting to explore something together. I trust you both.”
Your heart swells with love for this incredible man. Charles looks touched as well.
“I appreciate you putting your trust in me,” Charles says earnestly. “This is a lot to process but … I’m open to trying.” He looks between you and Lewis. “I want this. If you’ll have me.”
Joy and arousal flood your body hearing those words. You glance at Lewis to confirm.
He smiles. “We want you, Charles.”
Charles’ eyes darken. He stands up from the couch and closes the distance between you. Gazing down at you, he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.
You nod, heart hammering in your chest. Charles’ hand slides into your hair and he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is electric, your body lighting up everywhere you touch.
After a dizzying minute you break apart, flushed and breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, his eyes burning.
“I want you,” he whispers. “I want this.”
Your pulse racing, you turn and pull Lewis into a passionate kiss. You pour all your need and love into it, leaving no doubt that you want him just as much.
Lewis’ eyes are dark when you separate. Without a word, he stands and holds his hand out to Charles. Charles takes it immediately. They stare at each other for a weighted moment before Lewis reels him in for a searing kiss.
You can only watch, utterly mesmerized by the sight of the two gorgeous men exploring each other. They kiss aggressively, hands roaming over backs and arms. Finally they break apart, panting.
Charles turns to you, eyes blazing. In two strides he’s kneeling before you, hands on your thighs.
“Tell me you want this,” he rasps out. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I want this. I want this so much,” you affirm breathlessly.
Charles surges up to capture your lips again. Lewis moves behind you, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders. Sandwiched between them, you’ve never felt more alive.
You have a fleeting thought that you should slow down, take things step by step. But as their hands and lips worship your body, reason melts away.
Tonight you’ll explore each other fully and forge this new bond that transcends convention. Tomorrow you can discuss logistics.
Charles kisses you hungrily while Lewis deftly unzips your dress, letting it slip to the floor. His hands glide over your newly exposed skin as Charles trails kisses down your neck to your lace-clad breasts.
Lewis reaches around to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts to Charles’ eager mouth. You gasp and arch into his touch as his tongue swirls around one nipple, then the other.
Lewis captures your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans of pleasure. His hands roam your body, caressing your hips and rear before slipping into your panties. You keen against his mouth as his fingers find your slick heat.
Charles kisses his way down your trembling body until he’s kneeling before you. Locking eyes with you, he slowly peels off your panties. Lewis moves behind you, arms wrapped around you, hands still working their magic between your legs.
Charles parts your thighs and dives in hungrily. You cry out at the feeling of his mouth on you, the dual sensations pushing you quickly to the edge. Your pleasured screams echo through the penthouse as you come undone between these two incredible men.
They lay you gently on the plush rug, hands and mouths continuing to ignite fires across your hypersensitive skin. You reach for them frantically, needing to feel them too. Together you undress them with eager hands until all three of you are bare and flushed with need.
Lewis kisses his way down your body until his head is between your legs, stubble scratching deliciously against your inner thighs. His talented tongue gets to work, licking and sucking your sensitive bud as you grasp his braids, back arching off the rug.
Charles moves up your body to take a hard nipple in his mouth, fingers tweaking and plucking the other. The near-overstimulation makes you see stars, crying out louder as Lewis’ fingers join his mouth in driving you to euphoria.
As you come down from your high, panting and trembling, Charles captures your lips in a messy kiss. You taste yourself and your favorite body oil on his tongue as he grinds his hard length against your hip. Guiding him up further, you take him in your mouth eagerly, reveling in his groans of pleasure.
Lewis slides up behind you, hardness nudging your entrance. He pushes into you slowly, filling you up exquisitely. You moan around Charles in your mouth as Lewis sets a steady rhythm. Charles’ eyes are nearly black watching Lewis take you from behind.
Charles gently pulls out of your mouth, moving down to kiss Lewis passionately. Their tongues tangle as Lewis continues rocking into you. The erotic sight makes you clench around Lewis. Sensing you’re close, he reaches around to circle your clit until you shatter again.
As you float back down, Lewis slips out from behind you and lays on his back. You straddle him eagerly, taking him back inside your slick heat. Charles moves in behind you, grasping your hips. Feeling his tip brush your back entrance, you glance back and nod consent.
Charles pushes into your other hole slowly as Lewis praises you for taking them both so well. Sandwiched between their hard bodies, filled so exquisitely, you feel worshipped and desired. They find a synchronized rhythm, driving you higher until you’re screaming out your pleasure again.
Lewis follows you over the edge, your pulsing muscles milking him dry with a growl. Charles takes over, pounding into you relentlessly until he stills, spilling deep inside with a choked cry.
You collapse together in a satisfied, breathless tangle of limbs. Trading soft kisses and caresses, you bask in the afterglow of this new bond forged in passion. Staring into your boys’ sated eyes, you know you’ve found something extraordinary.
For now, you are content to let passion consume you, losing yourself in two sets of hands, two mouths worshipping every inch of you.
Tomorrow can wait. Tonight, your world has expanded to make room for three.
***
The new season is in full swing and your blossoming relationship could not be going better. Stealing moments alone is a challenge, but the time you spend together makes it all worthwhile.
The only downside is how difficult it is for Charles to hide his feelings for you in public. While Lewis has had practice concealing your relationship for years now, Charles is still learning restraint. His affection for you shines through in lingering looks and subtle touches that don’t go unnoticed.
During one pre-race press conference, things come to a head. You’re standing just off stage, watching proudly as Charles and Lewis field questions.
A reporter looks over at Charles. “Charles, we’ve noticed Y/N hanging around the Ferrari garage a lot this season. Any insight into why the daughter of the Mercedes team principal spends so much time with your team instead?”
Charles tenses, panic flashing across his face. Before he can respond, Pierre Gasly pipes up from the end of the table.
“She’s always welcome to spend time with Alpine too!” Pierre says with a playful wink your direction. “Our garage door is open for you anytime, chérie.”
Charles’ hand clenches into a fist under the table. You can see him biting his tongue, holding back from saying that you’re taken.
Lewis discretely reaches over and lays a calming hand on Charles’ arm. Charles takes a deep breath, the brief touch grounding him.
“Y/N is friends with many drivers, not just myself,” Charles says evenly. “She offers encouragement to everyone on the grid.”
You let out the breath you’d been holding. Crisis averted, for now. But the reporters look unsatisfied with Charles’ generic response.
One speaks up again. “Come on Charles, you two seem especially close lately. Anything you want to tell us about the nature of your relationship?”
Charles’ eyes flick towards you. He opens his mouth but hesitates.
Lewis jumps in. “Like Charles said, Y/N is a supportive friend to all the drivers. We’re lucky to have her around.” He steers the conversation to less dangerous waters and the questions about you cease.
After the press conference, Charles makes a beeline for you. Taking your hands, he searches your face anxiously.
“I’m so sorry. I nearly slipped up and exposed everything. I just couldn’t stand Pierre flirting with you like that.”
You smile reassuringly, touched by his protectiveness. “It’s okay, you stopped yourself in time. I know it’s not easy.”
Lewis joins you two in your hidden corner. He squeezes Charles’ shoulder comfortingly. “You handled it well, babe. I know firsthand how hard it is to stay silent.”
Charles sighs. “I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long. Lying about the woman I lo-” He stops himself. “About someone so important is torture.”
Your heart skips a beat. Lewis meets your gaze, equally affected by Charles’ unspoken words.
Taking Charles’ face in your hands, you kiss him sweetly. “I’m so lucky to have not just one, but two incredible men willing to go through all this for my sake. I promise, it won’t be forever.”
Charles relaxes into your touch. Lewis moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head. Charles covers Lewis’ hands with his own. The three of you share a quiet, tender moment before stepping back out into the bustle of race day.
That evening after the race, the three of you finally have time alone back at the hotel. Lewis pours champagne while you massage the tension from Charles’ shoulders.
“What Pierre said today was out of line,” you murmur. “But you have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours, in every way that matters.” You press a kiss to his neck.
Charles twists to capture your lips. “I know. It just drives me crazy seeing other men try to take what’s mine.” His tone is playful yet possessive in a way that makes you shiver.
“Let them flirt all they want,” Lewis says, handing Charles a glass of champagne. “She only has eyes for us.”
You and Charles both smile at Lewis’ quiet confidence. Taking your glass, you raise it in a toast. “To the apples of my eye. Here’s to a long future together.”
You clink glasses and sip, eyes locking over the rims. Setting your glass aside, you take each of their hands in yours.
“I know keeping this secret isn’t easy. But it will be so worth it in the end, when we can stop hiding and be together openly. We just have to be patient a little longer.”
Lewis squeezes your hand, emotion shining in his eyes. “You’re worth the wait, darling.”
Charles cradles your face adoringly. “A thousand times over.”
Your heart swells being surrounded by such unwavering love and support. Despite the challenges, in this moment, everything feels exactly as it should.
The rest of the night is spent getting lost in each other, reaffirming the bonds between you. Fingers intertwined, bodies moving as one, you bask in the oasis you’ve created amidst the pressures of your public lives.
Tomorrow you’ll go back to pretending, dodging prying questions and curious stares. But here, cocooned in this hotel room, you’re simply three people entwined by love. Partners promising without words to stand united until the day your relationship can step into the light.
For now, secrecy is a small price to pay for a love unlike any other.
***
The azure waters of the Mediterranean glisten under the Sardinian sun as you lounge on the deck of the yacht. Lewis rubs sunscreen slowly over your shoulders, his touch sending tingles through your body.
Charles emerges from the water, rivulets streaming down his toned chest. He joins you on the loungers, shaking his wet hair playfully over you and Lewis. You squeal and swat him away, laughing.
These past two weeks sailing around Sardinia have been pure bliss. Finally you can be as affectionate as you want, stealing kisses and cuddling close without worrying who might see. You’ve explored every inch of this yacht and each other’s bodies. After keeping your relationship under wraps, it’s glorious being so free.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” you sigh contentedly.
“Soon, love,” Lewis says, pulling you close. “Just have to get through this season.”
Charles nods, trailing his fingers down your arm. “It will all be worth it in the end.”
You smile softly at them both, heart swelling with love. “You’re right. As long as we’re together.”
You while away the rest of the afternoon trading lazy kisses and caresses, basking in the sun and each other.
That night, fireworks burst bright over the inky sea. You tilt your head back against Charles’ chest, watching the rainbow sparks. Lewis nuzzles your neck from behind, arms wrapped around your waist.
“I love you both,” you whisper as gold and purple light up the sky. Charles kisses your temple while Lewis squeezes you gently. You’ve never felt so full of love and joy.
Then, you all fly to Lewis’ villa in Brazil for the rest of summer break. The days pass in a carefree blur — lounging by the pool, sunset walks on the beach, and passion-filled nights tangled together in bed.
Charles cooks dinner shirtless one evening, playfully feeding you and Lewis bites as you sip wine. Lewis pulls you into an impromptu dance around the kitchen, the three of you laughing breathlessly.
“If only this could never end,” you say wistfully, pulling them in for a group hug.
“One day, baby,” Lewis murmurs, kissing your hair. Charles rubs your back, gazing at you tenderly.
You etch every moment into your memory, from languid mornings waking up between them to romantic picnics at sunset on the beach.
If only you could freeze time and stay in this private paradise.
But of course, time marches on. Before you know it, the break ends and you’re headed to the Netherlands for the start of the second half of the season.
Walking through Zandvoort a friendly distance from Charles and Lewis, everything feels different now. You have to stop yourself from being too openly affectionate, hyperaware of prying eyes.
Lewis senses your tension. “Soon this will all be out in the open,” he reminds you softly. The secret aspect still weighs on you all, but the promise of a future without hiding lifts your spirits.
On Thursday, just a few days before the race, you’re leaving the motorhome when your phone explodes with notifications. With a sinking sense of dread, you open social media to see leaked paparazzi shots plastered everywhere — the three of you kissing on the yacht, Lewis’ hands blatantly grabbing your rear in Brazil, you and Charles making out poolside.
You stagger back against the wall, blood rushing in your ears. This is a nightmare. Your private oasis shattered, your relationship outed in the most public, scandalous way possible.
Charles exits behind you and his face pales seeing your expression. Lewis comes around the corner a second later and you wordlessly show him your phone screen.
“Fuck,” Lewis swears. “Where did these come from?”
“I don’t know, they’re everywhere,” you say shakily.
Charles peers over your shoulder, jaw clenched. “We’ll figure it out later. Right now we need to get you out of here.”
You’re confused only for a second before you hear the swell of voices and footsteps rapidly approaching. Security won’t hold the media mob back for long.
Charles and Lewis spring into action, flanking you protectively as you hurry back towards the entrance. Halfway there, the dam breaks as reporters and cameras flood the paddock. You freeze like a deer in headlights.
Chaos erupts, cameras flashing, mics shoved in your faces, everyone shouting questions at once. Charles and Lewis shield you from the onslaught, yelling for security. Two guards appear and help navigate you through the frenzy back into the Ferrari motorhome.
You collapse on the sofa, heart pounding. Lewis paces angrily while Charles punches the wall. “Fuck! We were so careful,” he rages.
You blink back panicked tears. “What do we do now?”
Lewis sits and pulls you into his arms. “We face it head on. No more hiding. We own this together.”
Charles kneels before you, clasping your hands. “I’m with you no matter what. We’ll get through this.”
You cling to them, anchoring yourself. As long as you have each other, you can survive the storm.
You’ve just managed to catch your breath when the door flies open. Your head whips up to see none other than your father storming in, fury etched on his face.
“What the HELL is going on here?” He thunders.
You shrink back against Lewis. This is already a disaster — but your enraged, overprotective father finding out like this? You brace yourself as his glare pins you in place, demanding an explanation.
Toto slams the door behind him, eyes blazing like you’ve never seen before.
“Would someone like to explain what the hell is going on?” He shouts. “Because I leave for a few weeks and suddenly my daughter is splashed all over the tabloids in compromising photos with her secret boyfriends!”
You shrink back against Lewis, tears pooling in your eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you.
“Toto, let’s all just take a breath and talk about this,” Lewis says calmly.
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” Toto snarls, pointing a finger at Lewis. “You are supposed to be teammates and instead you’re … you’re ...” He splutters, at a loss for words.
“We’re in a relationship,” Charles says firmly, taking your hand. “The three of us.”
“A relationship?” Toto looks apoplectic. “She is my daughter!”
“Who makes her own choices,” Charles shoots back. “She’s an adult.”
Toto ignores him, glaring at Lewis and you. “I trusted you with her. And this is how you repay that trust?”
Lewis squeezes your shoulder gently before standing up to face Toto. “I understand you’re upset. But our relationship isn’t about you.”
“The hell it isn’t!” Toto shouts. “I am her father!”
“Stop yelling at them!” You cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.
Toto falters slightly seeing your distress. Charles pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair and glaring at Toto.
“Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?” Charles snaps. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation.”
Toto looks back and forth between the three of you, anger warring with confusion. Lewis takes a cautious step toward him.
“I know this is a shock,” Lewis says evenly. “But we didn’t intend for it to come out like this.”
He gestures for Toto to have a seat. After a tense moment Toto sinks into the armchair, face still thunderous. Lewis sits back down beside you.
“Help me understand this,” Toto says tightly. “Clearly this … arrangement has been going on behind my back for some time.”
You take a shaky breath. “We’ve been together since the start of the season. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but we knew you would react badly.”
Toto drags a hand down his face. “You cannot expect me to be happy about this. My daughter dating two men at once? One of whom used to be my employee?”
“We don’t need your approval,” Charles says firmly. “All that matters is that we love each other. Right?”
He looks at you and Lewis. You both nod, Lewis taking your hand supportively.
“She’s right,” Lewis tells Toto. “We don’t need your blessing. But we want you to understand this is real, not just some fling or scandal.”
You look pleadingly at your father. “Please Vati, try to understand. I’ve never been happier than with these two.”
Toto stares back stonily. The silence stretches on. You feel Charles and Lewis tense on either side of you, bracing for Toto’s wrath.
Finally Toto sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “You’ve always been my sweet girl. My only wish is for your happiness and safety.”
He levels Charles and Lewis with a piercing look. “If either of you two hurts her, they’ll never find your bodies. Understand?”
Charles and Lewis both nod rapidly.
“We would never,” Lewis vows.
“Good. See that you don’t.” Toto turns back to you, expression softening. “This will take some adjustment. But I suppose if you’re happy ...”
“I am, I promise,” you assure him.
Toto shakes his head. “Well, try to keep the sordid details to yourself please.”
You huff out a wet laugh, wiping your eyes. “Deal.”
Toto nods stiffly and stands. Looking between the three of you, his face settles into resignation.
“I will do my best to … adjust to this,” he mutters. “But no funny business at the track!”
He points sternly at Charles and Lewis again. They both work to keep straight faces.
“Of course, totally professional at all times,” Lewis promises solemnly.
“Hmm. We’ll see.” Toto heads for the door. With his hand on the handle, he turns back.
“You’re still my little girl. I just want you safe and happy.”
You smile tearfully. “I know. Thank you.”
With a grunt and final glare at Charles and Lewis, Toto takes his leave.
The moment the door shuts, you collapse into their arms in relief. Laughing and crying all at once.
“That could have gone worse,” Charles remarks.
Lewis chuckles. “He only threatened us a little bit.”
You kiss them softly. “I can’t believe you stood up to him for me.”
Charles caresses your face. “Always.”
“We meant what we said — we’re in this together, no matter what,” Lewis affirms.
You cling to each other, coming down from the emotional rollercoaster. The worst is over. Your relationship is out in the open now. The media will have a field day, but you can weather any storm with your men by your side.
“So ...” you say with a watery laugh. “Who wants to handle the press release?”
***
The news of your relationship with Lewis and Charles has sent shockwaves through the paddock. You knew it would be a scandal, but the sheer scale of the reaction has been overwhelming.
Thankfully you’ve had each other to cling to through the firestorm. Their love and support keeps you strong in the face of snarling reporters and leering drivers.
In the Ferrari garage a few days later, Lewis has his arms wrapped around you, placing gentle kisses to your hair as you discuss weekend plans. Charles is in the engineering room, focused on prep for the upcoming race.
The two of you are in your own world together when Lando sheepishly approaches. "Hey mates, can I talk to you both for a sec?"
You tense instinctively and Lewis’ arm tightens around you protectively. But Lando’s face is regretful, not leering. “What’s up?” Lewis asks calmly.
Lando shuffles his feet. “I just wanted to apologize for all the times I hit on Y/N and crossed the line. I feel proper ashamed about it now that I know she was with you two. You deserve better from a friend.”
You and Lewis share a surprised look. Before you can respond, Pierre joins Lando, gazing at you repentantly.
“I want to also apologize,” Pierre says. “It was wrong of me to overstep boundaries and disrespect your relationship. I’m sorry.”
You bite your tongue, holding back what you really want to say. As usual, they’re ignoring you and directing apologies to Lewis instead.
Sensing your reaction, Lewis speaks up. “We appreciate you owning up to it, but I think Y/N deserves your apologies more. She’s the one you objectified and disrespected with the unwanted advances, after all.”
Lando and Pierre have the decency to look abashed. “You’re completely right, that was thoughtless of me,” Lando says. “I’m truly sorry for ever making you feel uncomfortable or pressured, Y/N. It won’t happen again.”
Pierre nods. “Please accept my sincere apologies as well. I should have been more considerate of your feelings and respected your privacy.”
You give them a stiff smile. “Thank you. Just please think about how your words and actions affect women as fellow human beings, not just as conquests or property.”
Lando and Pierre both nod earnestly before excusing themselves. As they walk away Lewis kisses your temple. “Well handled, love. How are you feeling?”
You sigh heavily. “I appreciate the apologies, but it still stings that they only considered your feelings initially, not mine.”
Lewis makes a sympathetic noise and hugs you close. “You deserve so much more respect. I’m sorry this has all been so ugly.”
You cling to him, drawing strength from his unwavering support. “As long as I have you and Charles, I can face anything.”
Lewis is about to reply when footsteps approach again. You tense, but it’s only Charles this time. His smile fades seeing your expression.
“Everything okay here?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You explain what just happened with Lando and Pierre. Charles’ eyes flash. “They are lucky I wasn’t here. I would have had a thing or two to say about them disrespecting you like that.”
You smile softly, touched by his protectiveness. “My heroes. However would I cope without you two defending my honor?”
Lewis tickles your side playfully. “We have to protect our lady’s virtue!”
You swat him away, laughing. Charles kisses the top of your head. “Joking aside, you never have to tolerate that behavior again. Not with us here.”
“I know,” you reply, snuggling into them happily. "My gallant protectors."
***
“Home sweet home,” you declare as the car pulls up the long driveway to your family’s sprawling Swiss estate.
Lewis lets out an impressed whistle from the backseat. “This is incredible!”
“Just wait until you see inside,” you grin at him in the rearview mirror.
You had kept putting off bringing Lewis and Charles here but it was finally time for them to see where you grew up.
They grab your bags as you lead them inside the grand foyer with its sweeping marble staircase. Lewis and Charles gaze around, taking in the ornate moldings and priceless artwork adorning the walls.
“I know it’s a bit ... much,” you say self-consciously.
“Are you kidding? This place is amazing!” Lewis crows, his voice echoing off the high ceilings.
You give them a brief tour of the endless sitting rooms, home theater, indoor pool, and your father’s meticulously organized garage housing his impressive car collection.
Finally you bring them upstairs to the family bedrooms. With a deep breath, you push open the door to your childhood room.
Lewis and Charles follow you in, peering around with interest at the spacious suite with its canopy bed, plush seating area, and panoramic mountain views.
You watch nervously as Lewis wanders over to your bookshelf and Charles admires the view from the French doors. Waiting for their judgment, you feel self-conscious about your privileged upbringing.
Suddenly Charles points to your wall and turns to you with a grin. “Well well, what do we have here?”
You follow his gaze to the life-size posters still occupying prime real estate on your wall, relics from your starry-eyed teen years. A young Lewis from his early Mercedes days gazes broodingly down, next to a smirking teenage Charles in his Prema race suit from back in F2.
“Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot those were there!” You groan, covering your rapidly reddening face.
Lewis chuckles, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “Aww, someone had a little crush, did they?” He teases.
“It was years ago!” You protest through your fingers.
Charles pries your hands away, smiling affectionately. “It’s cute you were our fan. Never be embarrassed for having good taste in drivers,” he winks.
Lewis kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry love, we won’t give you too hard a time about it,” he says magnanimously.
You snuggle into his embrace. “How lucky am I to have manifested my crushes into reality?”
“The lucky ones are us,” Charles murmurs, stroking your hair and kissing you tenderly.
Lewis tips your chin up to meet his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You cling to each other, the outside world fading away.
Eventually you lead them hand-in-hand to your massive bedroom balcony overlooking the mountains. The summer air is fragrant with the smell of wildflowers.
Settled together on the cushions, you snuggle between Lewis and Charles as they take in the stunning panoramic views.
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful here,” Lewis sighs contentedly. “Thank you for bringing us with you.”
You squeeze his hand. “Thank you for wanting to know every part of me.”
Charles wraps an arm around you, meeting your eyes sincerely. “Of course we do. Your soul is what we fell in love with first and foremost.”
You have to blink back tears at his words. Being with them has taught you that real love runs far deeper than surface trappings.
Overwhelmed with emotion, you pull them close, kissing each with all the love and gratitude overflowing inside you.
As the sun dips behind the mountains, setting the sky ablaze in stunning hues of orange and purple, you curl up safely between the two men who see, know, and love the real you. The only home you’ll ever need.
***
The warmly lit dining room of your family estate is filled with the clink of silverware and hum of conversation as you share an intimate dinner with your father, stepmother Susie, younger brother Jack, and your loves.
Despite your anxiety, the evening has gone smoothly so far. Toto seems impressed with Lewis and Charles’ maturity and devotion to you. Susie dotes on them like a surrogate mother. Only Jack seems bored, pushing food around his plate.
During a lull in the conversation, Toto turns to Lewis. “It’s remarkable what you are accomplishing at Ferrari this season. Good to see you on top of the podium again.”
Lewis smiles. “Thank you, Toto. It’s been incredible.”
“Still, I was surprised when you first told me you were leaving Mercedes,” Toto remarks. “I didn’t fully understand what prompted such a sudden departure.”
He levels Lewis with a probing gaze. You freeze nervously, grasping Charles and Lewis’ hands under the table. You’ve managed to avoid telling your father the real reason for Lewis’ change in teams. But it seems that reckoning has arrived.
Lewis meets Toto’s scrutinizing look evenly. “Well, as you know, Mercedes has strict rules against relationships within the team. It began impeding my personal happiness. So I sought more freedom elsewhere.”
Toto’s eyes narrow, glancing between the three of you. “And when exactly did this personal happiness begin?”
You hold your breath. Lewis says simply, “During my third to last season with the team.”
There’s a long, fraught silence. Jack glances around confused while Susie presses her napkin to her lips, no doubt hiding a small smile. She’s always been your most enthusiastic supporter.
Toto’s face slowly turns an alarming shade of eggplant purple. He points an accusatory finger at Lewis. “You! You were already involved with my daughter during your Mercedes contract?”
Lewis nods calmly. “We couldn’t be public about it then. Your rules left us no choice but secrecy.”
Toto turns his glare on you. “So while I was managing Lewis’ negotiations, you were ... were ...” He seems unable to form the words.
You lift your chin. “Yes, Vati. We’ve been together since mid-2022. I’m sorry we couldn’t be honest about it at the time.”
Toto looks back and forth between you and Lewis, jaw clenched. The whole table is frozen, awaiting the eruption.
Finally Toto thrusts his chair back and begins pacing angrily. “This whole time ... right under my nose! With my star driver, in clear violation of team rules and ethics!”
He rounds on Lewis. “I treated you like family! Supported your career, fought for your contracts. And you betrayed me by sneaking around with my daughter behind my back!”
Lewis faces Toto’s tirade calmly. “I apologize for any perceived deception. But we couldn’t deny our hearts.”
He takes your hand, gazing at you adoringly. Charles clutches your other in solidarity.
Toto drags a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. I thought I knew you, Hamilton.”
Finally you can't stay quiet any longer. “Vati, stop,” you implore. “I know you’re upset, but don’t blame Lewis. We fell in love, simple as that.”
Toto sighs, looking between your determined face and Lewis’ sincerity. His anger slowly deflates.
“Bärchen, you will always be my little girl,” he says gruffly. “I just want to protect you.”
He turns back to Lewis and Charles. “But I can see you both genuinely care for her. That’s all that matters in the end.”
You smile hopefully. “So you’re okay with this?”
Toto holds up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away. I am still adjusting to the idea.” He narrows his eyes at Lewis and Charles. “No messing about, you hear me? My girl deserves the utmost love and respect.”
“Of course,” Lewis says seriously as Charles nods in agreement.
“Good. See that it stays that way.” Toto sits back down with a huff. An awkward beat passes before conversation resumes again.
Later, as you all say goodnight, Toto pulls you into a hug. “They really make you happy, hmm?”
You nod, eyes shining. “Beyond words.”
Toto pats your cheek affectionately. “Well then, I suppose that’s what matters.”
You kiss his cheek in gratitude. No matter how overprotective your father can be, you know he just wants you safe and loved. With Lewis and Charles by your side, you always will be.
***
Seven Years Later
The Ferrari garage is buzzing with activity as race day gets underway at the Italian Grand Prix. You stand with Lewis among the controlled chaos, keeping one eye on your enthusiastic children weaving through the mechanics’ legs.
“Be careful, Lou!” You call out as your daring five-year-old Louis takes a corner a little too sharply, his Ferrari cap nearly sliding off his wild wavy hair.
Lewis shakes his head in amusement. “He’s as spirited as his Papa.”
You grin proudly at your son, the spitting image of Charles, as he zooms around mimicking pit stops. Your little three-year-old Helene clings shyly to her daddy’s leg, peering up at the action with wide brown eyes that are the mirror image of Lewis’ own.
Charles emerges from the engineering briefing and makes a beeline for you. Sweeping you into his arms, he greets you with a passionate kiss. After over seven years together, the sparks between you still ignite instantly.
Pulling back, Charles grins at your slightly disheveled state. “Hello to you too,” you laugh breathlessly.
He winks before turning to give Lewis a tender kiss. Your unconventional family drew some skepticism at first, but your extraordinary love has proven unshakeable.
The kids chorus “Papa!” and attack Charles’ legs. Laughing, he scoops them both up, kissing their heads. “Are you ready to cheer for me, my little racers?”
Their enthusiastic cheers draw amused glances from the team. You soak it all in — your little family, together forever.
Charles reluctantly sets the kids down to focus on pre-race prep. You feel a phantom flutter in your belly, though you know it’s still too early for it to be real. Grasping Lewis’ hand, you share a private smile. Baby number three is on the way.
The race begins in a blur of excitement. Charles aces the start, quickly pulling into the lead. Louis abandons all decorum and just starts screaming “Go Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you and Lewis take turns occupying your hyperactive son so as not to distract the crew. Shy little Helene contents herself hugging a Ferrari-themed teddy bear, peering intently at the screens showing her Papa as he speeds around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.
The laps tick by, Charles fending off the competition masterfully. As he crosses the finish line to claim victory on home soil, Louis and Helene are jumping and cheering loudly. The passion for racing already runs strong.
Back out in the paddock after the podium celebration, you and Lewis balance the kids on your hips as reporters head straight for the two of you. The questions are familiar after years in the spotlight.
“Lewis, what’s it like spending almost every weekend at the track despite your retirement five years ago?”
“I love it,” Lewis smiles, bouncing a giggling Helene. “Getting to support my husband and spend time with my family, it’s very fulfilling.”
“And Y/N, how do you manage the kids and your husband’s demanding career?”
You grin. “We make it work. We’re so proud of Charles and feel lucky to be by his side through it all.”
On cue, Helene pipes up “Papa is the best racer!”
The reporters chuckle. One asks, “How do you feel seeing Charles continue to build his legacy with Ferrari?”
“I couldn’t be prouder,” Lewis says, genuine emotion in his eyes. “He’s taken the team to new heights and really made his mark. Seeing him succeed means the world.”
Louis suddenly grabs the mic, yelling “Are we done yet?” You have to stifle your laugh.
“I think that’s our cue to wrap up,” you grin sheepishly, gathering the rambunctious children in your arms. Blowing kisses to the laughing media, you make your exit.
Back in the privacy of the motorhome, your unconventional but beautiful family shares celebratory hugs and kisses. Charles rests his hand gently on your belly, his face lighting up when you confirm the news.
“Baby number three on the way!” Lewis crows, sweeping you into an excited embrace.
Louis and Helene cheer, demanding another sibling immediately. You laugh giddily, leaning into Charles and gazing at the pure joy on your husbands’ faces. Your hearts swell with love.
This life you’ve built together has faced skepticism, but your extraordinary bond conquers all. Gazing into their eyes, you know without a doubt you were destined for each other. Hand in hand, side by side, forevermore.
***
18 Months Later
You finish strapping a squirming Cosette into her car seat, smoothing down her hair that is the spitting image of your own. “There we go, my little princess. Time to go see Opa Toto!”
Cosette babbles happily, waving her chubby fists. At just over a year old, she is the perfect blend of you and Charles, with your lips and nose and his vibrant green eyes.
Louis and Helene are already buckled into the backseat, their patience for the short drive to your father’s house wearing thin. “Hurry up!” Louis cries. “I want to show Opa my new race car!”
“We’re coming, hold your horses,” you laugh, sliding into the passenger seat beside Charles. Lewis is meeting you there after stopping at home to grab a few extra toys and changes of clothes for the kids’ overnight stay.
During the short drive, Charles keeps resting his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing distracting circles. You try your best to keep your breathing even. After all these years together, just the slightest touch from your husbands can still ignite that spark instantly.
You pull up the long driveway to find Lewis’ car already parked outside the stately lakefront home you grew up spending summers in. Before you can even unbuckle, the front door swings open and Toto comes striding out, arms open wide.
“My lieblinge!” He booms as Louis and Helene barrel into his embrace.
You lift Cosette from her carseat and Toto takes her gently, eyes crinkling with delight. “And there’s my littlest liebling,” he coos, nuzzling her soft curls.
Lewis joins you all outside, greeting Toto with a warm hug. “Thanks again for watching the kids tonight, Toto. We really appreciate it.”
“Of course, of course! They’re my grandbabies, it’s my honor,” Toto declares, ushering everyone inside.
Soon the kids are happily playing on the living room floor as you and Susie chat over tea. Lewis joins Toto out on the back patio, no doubt talking about the current state of the team as always. Charles wanders in from the kitchen and comes up behind you, massaging the knots from your shoulders in that way he knows you love. You have to bite back a moan, not wanting to scar your family. Susie just smiles knowingly into her tea cup.
Too soon it’s time to head out for your rare adults-only evening. You pry Louis away from showing Toto his toy car collection and scoop up a sleepy Cosette. Helene hugs you tightly around the legs.
“We’ll be back to get you tomorrow, sweetheart,” you assure her, kissing the top of her head.
Lewis takes his turn hugging the kids while Charles checks his watch. “Reservations are in 30 minutes, we should get going soon.”
You pass a sleepy Cosette to Toto and he cradles her gently. “We’ll hold down the fort, you three go and have an enjoyable evening.” He gives Lewis and Charles a stern look. “But not too enjoyable, hmm? Keep it respectable.”
Lewis just grins as Charles steps up and claps Toto on the back. “Oh don’t worry, we’ll be very respectable. Just having a nice dinner while we discuss when to start working on baby number four.” He winks cheekily at Toto while you and Lewis have to stifle your laughter at the mortified look on your father’s face.
Charles dodges Toto’s half-hearted swat and pulls you and Lewis in close. “Come on, our romantic evening awaits.”
You bid one more goodnight to the kids before letting Charles usher you out the door, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The drive to the restaurant passes enjoyably, laughter and teasing flowing freely. For one night, you have the rare opportunity to just be yourselves, simply three lovers.
At the upscale restaurant, you’re shown to a cozy corner table lit by flickering candles. Charles orders an expensive bottle of wine while you and Lewis peruse the menu. His foot trails slowly up your leg under the tablecloth and you have to resist the urge to jump him then and there. After years together the flames still burn hot, stealing passionate moments whenever you can.
Dinner passes enjoyably, full of laughter and flirty touches. Afterwards you stroll hand-in-hand along the lakefront, the starry sky reflected on the rippling water. Lewis pulls you into a dance right there on the path, the three of you swaying and giggling drunkenly together. Passersby stare but you’re oblivious, caught up in your own private world.
Eventually you make your tipsy way back home, shedding clothes on your way up to the master bedroom. They lay you down reverently in the middle of the expansive bed, hands and mouths immediately reacquainting themselves with every familiar curve and hollow of your body. Soon you’re panting and writhing between them, their dual caresses pushing you rapidly towards euphoria.
“Need you ... both ... now,” you manage to gasp out. Without hesitation Charles is kissing you hungrily while Lewis repositions himself behind you. You cry out as they join your bodies seamlessly, swiftly bringing you to the peak again and again. Their stamina and synchronicity even after all these years together never fails to leave you awestruck.
Much later, sated and pleasantly sore, you rest comfortably sandwiched between your husbands. Their hands caress you languidly as you all come down from your highs together.
“We certainly made the most of our kid-free night,” Lewis chuckles, dropping a kiss to your shoulder.
You hum contentedly. “It was heavenly. But I can’t wait to get our babies back tomorrow.”
“Me too,” Charles agrees, trailing his fingers down your arm. “Our family is everything to me.”
You smile softly at him, heart swelling. “Our lives turned out pretty perfectly, didn’t they?”
Lewis nods, his eyes drifting around the bedroom that over the years has become a shrine to your shared journey — photos of race wins, kids’ drawings, and candid shots of your unlikely love filling every surface.
“Beyond anything I could have dreamed,” he murmurs. “Being with you both, raising our babies together ... it’s more than I ever imagined was possible.”
Charles kisses you tenderly. “We’re so lucky to have this extraordinary love.”
You cling tighter to them, emotion welling in your chest. “Every day I’m grateful we followed our hearts and created this life together.”
They hum contentedly, holding you close between their warm, solid bodies. No more words need be said. After so many years, your souls are intertwined seamlessly by the incredible bonds of your love.
Come what may, you know without a doubt that you were destined for each other. And you would choose this unconventional but beautiful life with them every single time.
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Daisies and Haircuts
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Usually, Logan can get a read on everybody. Except, when it comes to you, he can't. So he makes it his mission to find out the truth, but when he does...he doesn't exactly know how to take the news.
Disclaimer: Mostly fluff with a bit of angst, some steam towards the end. Descriptions of blood, casualties and aftermath of a tornado. Not Proof Read.
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If there was one thing Logan prided himself on, it was being able to tell when people were lying or telling the truth. 
However, from the minute he met you…he didn’t have an explanation for it. 
Most of the time, he could hear people’s heartbeats or their breathing. Both would quicken when they were lying. Even the best liars couldn’t hide from him. 
But there was something about you he just couldn’t shake. Your voice didn’t change or shake, your heartbeat didn’t speed or falter - neither did your breathing. 
And yet he didn’t believe a word you said when it came to you being human. 
Professor Xavier had reached out to you to fill in one of the teaching positions when he met your cousin. And from his knowledge, your entire family was mutant. From grandmother, to grandfather, to cousins, to even siblings. 
And somehow, you were the only human. 
No mutant gene detected. 
And even if his school did have a reputation for having mutant teachers, you were the first human to attend the school in any manner. 
“Logan, if you’re gonna just stand there all day, you might as well offer to help.”
Your back was completely turned to him. You had been writing on the whiteboard for the last five minutes, not once looking anywhere near the door where he was leaning. 
“How did you know it was me?”
You chuckled a little as he walked inside, picking up a pile of books on the way in. “Please, I could smell the cigar smoke.”
Logan shrugged, placing two books at the end of each desk as he made his way to you. “You know, I can scare Storm, Jean- even Scott. But never you. I wonder why that is?”
Logan stood beside you as you turned. He was looking at you like how he always did. A knowing smile (maybe it was a smirk), but a look of wonder and curiosity in his eyes. 
You just smiled up at him. “Logan, I grew up with over twelve cousins. There wasn’t a day when you didn’t have to have eyes in the back of your head, and still at least one kid ended up hurting themselves.”
Walking around him and back to your desk, his eyes followed you. 
“That’s not the only thing.”
“What ‘thing’ exactly?” 
Sometimes it felt like this conversation between you and Logan happened every other day. You had been working at the school for a little over a year, and before that had shadowed for at least six months to understand how to truly help your kids. 
He had been like this since day one. 
Maybe a little more gruffer and scarier in the beginning…he had made you jump just a little when you closed the fridge door and found him standing there with that sceptical, over-protective look on his face. 
“You know what ‘thing’.”
You shook your head. “I really don’t, Logan.”
He walked closer to your desk and leaned his hands against it, coming face to face with you. “You’re a mutant.”
As he was so close, your eyes scanned his face and around his body. “You need a haircut.”
“It’s not something to be ashamed of.”
“I can cut it for you. Just take a little bit off the sides.” 
“Why do you keep avoiding the subject?” Logan asked with a laughing smile as he stood back up. 
“Because you seriously need a haircut, Logan.” You moved your fingers through the top of his hair. “You look like a crazed mountain man who’s just escaped from Frankenstien’s lab.”
Logan stepped away from you during your analogy. “Are you calling me a green monster?”
“Frankenstein is the Doctor.” 
“Huh.”
You shook your head. “Either way, you need a haircut.”
“Fine, but I will get it out of you sooner or later.” 
“Goodbye, Logan.”
Those were Logan’s final words before he left your classroom, but not before taking a final look at you as your head was turned. 
The next time he saw you was just before lunch when a couple of kids were playing a round of football outside. And for a while, Logan’s eyes remained on you as you read your book. It was like the world didn’t exist outside of your book. 
And yet you were tuned in to everything that was happening. 
Logan heard one of the kids shout before the ball went flying past the posts and it was heading straight for you. He could barely finish shouting your name before…
You caught it. 
Without looking up, you had caught the ball in your hands, simply looked up and then threw it back. “Be careful!”
“Sorry!”
Logan was a little in shock as he stood at the top of the stairs, his arms folded across his chest. He’d seen your reflexes a few times before. You had caught plenty of mugs that were about to fall off the side of the counter, just as you walked into the room. You’d also stopped piles of books crashing loudly to the ground, opened windows just as tennis balls came flying at them, as well as catching them and throwing them back. 
And now you had caught a football without even looking up. 
You hadn’t been at the school two years and yet Logan practically had a list tallied in his head of the things that had happened that simply couldn’t just be explained away. 
Could they?
“Oh, come on. Just admit it. You’re a mutant.”
Your lungs were tired of sighing. “Logan. I’m not a mutant.”
“Your entire family has the mutant gene.”
“So,” you shrugged, twisting some pepper into the pot before replacing the cap and setting it on the side. “It skipped me.”
“Your reflexes are barely human.”
“Logan, like I have told you a million times, I grew up around a lot of kids. A lot of mutant kids who had no control over their powers. I had to get good reflexes just to save on the amount we spend on broken windows.”
Logan moved out of your way as you walked across the kitchen, taking a couple of things from the fridge. 
“You never get scared.”
You looked back at him. “Are you calling me brave?”
“Nobody can scare you, Y/n. Last Halloween it was like you knew when someone was hiding around the corner.”
“It was Halloween. Everyone tries to scare each other on Halloween.”
Logan closed his eyes in frustration for a moment. “Not even Halloween. Nobody can scare you. Even today, you knew I was standing by your door.”
Stopping what you were doing, you looked at him. “Logan, when it comes to you, I can smell the cigar smoke a mile away. And, besides growing up in a household where it was normal to try and scare each other, nobody in this school is exactly going to be the next Prima Ballerina.”
Logan’s arm practically shot out. “That’s another thing! Your sense of smell.”
You rolled your eyes. “Is this about the cigar smoke? Are you becoming nose blind to it?”
“You smelt Scott’s burnt breakfast before the rest of us did. You knew when Rogue had changed her shampoo. You even knew Storm had planted some new flowers in the garden.”
You went to open your mouth but Logan cut you off. 
“And don’t say you saw the flowers because you were with me that whole afternoon and didn’t see Storm until after dinner.”
You sighed. “It wasn’t because I saw the flowers. I was going to say I saw the dirt on her hands when she walked inside. Plus, I knew she was looking to plant more flowers in the garden beds.”
Logan leaned forward. “Did you have a conversation about it?”
“About the flowers?”
“Because I don’t remember her telling us when she was going to plant them because she wanted them to be a surprise.”
You shrugged. “The dirt still gave it away.”
Logan shook his head. “That’s another one right there. You know…how do you know what we’re all thinking? I know you’re not reading our minds because if you were, it would be like when the Professor or Jean does it. No…it’s something else.” 
Logan was truly watching you. Studying you. Listening to your heartbeat. Listening to your breathing. 
“I was a psych major. I studied my ass off and read up extra things in my time. It’s not so hard.” You explained to Logan. “Most of the time it’s just body language. And remembering the small things. They go a long way in getting to know who a person is.”
“I don’t think it’s just that. Maybe it’s part of it.” Logan sat up straight. “But that’s not your whole story.”
“Why are you so fixed on my story?”
Except, rather than explain, Logan gave you that smile again and walked towards the door. “You’re the psych major, you figure it out.”
“You still need a haircut!”
And like clockwork, Logan was watching you and then questioning you everyday. He’d done it since day one. 
When would he finally realise you were telling him the truth?
A couple of weeks later, you found yourself inside the Professor’s office with Logan and a potential new student and their parents. 
Only, it soon became clear that as much as their child was finally happy to be somewhere where they didn’t stick out like a sore thumb because of their powers, the parents couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. 
“But what about…what about his mutant…problem?” 
You felt your back become straighter as your feet carried you forward, only to feel a small tug from the bottom of your jumper where Logan’s hand was pulling you back to stand beside him. 
“I can assure you, Harry’s mutation is not a problem.”
“Yeah? Tell that to the three teachers he had quit because of him. You know we can’t even walk down our street without parents judging us for letting their kids' favourite teachers walk out on them.”
Harry seemed to fall into himself. “I already said sorry. I didn’t mean for them to-”
“Harry, it’s quite alright. Sometimes people don’t fully understand what it means to teach a mutant like us. Luckily, we have some of the best teachers right here.”
The father looked at both you and Logan. “These are the best?”
“We have a full staff, however most are teaching right now. Harry, this is Professor Logan. He will be your new History teacher and this is Professor Y/n. She will be teaching you some English, but mostly Social Sciences. She is also our school councillor, so if you ever feel you wish to speak to someone, she is the most qualified for the job.”
Harry gave both you and Logan a small smile. 
He moved into his dorm a week later and started classes almost immediately. 
“Okay, fine. Let me ask you this then.”
Logan hadn’t left you alone all day, so you had finally put him to work. Carrying the pile of books you were pulling from the shelves as you rolled along on the ladder. 
“Why give a human a job of school counsellor in a school filled with mutants?”
“Other than the fact I’m qualified for the job.”
Logan shrugged. “Isn’t it better to put someone into the job who understands what the kid is going through? Rather than just put a diagnosis to it?”
You turned round and he looked up to you. “It doesn’t matter if your human or mutant, everyone has gone through something at some point. Maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be able to walk through walls, or have metal grow out of my knuckles. But I do know what it’s like to feel like an outcast. To feel lost. To feel alone.”
Logan just listened as you slowly turned back and started pulling the desired books from the shelves, adding them to the pile in his arms. 
“I might have gone to a normal school, but everyone knew my family was different. I was too mutant to fit in at school, but too human to fit in with my family. They love me, and I love them. But there were times when topics would come up and…I’d feel alone. Like because I wasn’t one of you, I wouldn’t get it. Eventually, everyone grew up and went on with their lives. Of course it wasn’t easy for them, but they still had each other. Even if every other ignorant asshole pushed them away, they still had each other. But some days it felt like…like I had no one.”
Logan just continued to listen. 
“So, I get your point. What would a human know about being a mutant? But sometimes that’s not the question that needs to be asked.”
A moment of silence passed between you both before finally Logan spoke up. “The kids…they’re lucky to have you.”
“Thank you, Logan.”
“And just so you know,” he added. “You’re not alone anymore.”
Looking down at him, you smiled. “I’m glad.”
Twenty minutes later, you were finished collecting books. Yet, just as Logan laid down the pile, half should have fallen onto the floor. 
Except they didn’t. 
Instead they glided off the top and landed in a semi-neat pile beside him with a soft thud. Logan turned around, shock clear on his face. But you weren’t looking at him, or at the pile. You were closing the doors to the outside balcony on the opposite end of the room. 
“One day,” Logan told himself. “One day.”
“What?”
Logan looked up. “Nothing.”
You just shrugged and walked to stand beside him. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Without looking at him, you flip over the cover of a book in your hands. “You still need a haircut by the way.”
“Don’t mention that, either.”
Two weeks later, as you and Logan were eating lunch together whilst marking some papers, there was a knock at your classroom door. 
Taking a bite of the chicken salad you had made him a bowl of, Logan flipped a paper round and handed it to you. “What does that say? I swear this kid just writes in scribbles.”
You took the page from him. “This is Rogue’s. Isn’t she your little sister or something? Shouldn’t you be fluent in this by now?”
“She’s not my sister. We just came here together. She was a runaway. Found me when I was a cage fighter and stowed away in the back of my trailer.”
Your eyes practically bugged out of your head before you tried your best to hide your smile. “You were a…cage fighter? You? Logan Howlett, as I live and breathe? You sat opposite me with your feet on my desk? You were a cage fighter?”
Logan rolled his eyes with a smile. “Okay, okay. Alright. I get it.”
You shook your head. “I mean, you’ve got the physique for it, I just…” you laughed. “I just never pictured you as a cage fighter. A cage fighter, really?”
“Are you done?”
You bit back another laugh. “I’m-” It came out. “Okay, yes.” You laughed again. “I’m done. Okay, okay,” you breathed through it. “I’m done.”
Logan just gave you a look and raised his eyebrow. 
You nodded with a wide smile. “I’m done. Finished. Promise.”
You even made a cross above your heart. Logan smiled and turned back to marking the papers as you read Rogue’s. 
“What did you picture me as?” 
You hummed a questioned response. 
“You didn’t picture me as a cage fighter.” You held in a laugh. “Stop it.” You tried. “What did you see me as?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. A lumberjack? Bodyguard? A cowboy? Your tags say ‘Army’ but your personality says ‘Macho Man with a Protective Streak’.”
Logan hid his blush well as he turned his head away, the smile on his face not going unnoticed by you. “Alright.”
You loved seeing Logan smile. It wasn’t often he did it, but when he did…you wanted to take a picture. 
Unbeknownst to you, Logan loved it, too. Maybe he wanted to keep up his reputation for how you saw him, as well as for how others saw him. But one thing he was glad of…most of the time when he did smile…it was with you. 
However, as you both shared a laugh, a knock came from your classroom door where you looked to find one of your cousin’s standing by the door. 
“I…there may have been a tiny accident.”
Pulling your own feet from your desk, you sat up and met your cousin half way across your classroom just as Logan pulled his feet from your desk and turned in his chair. 
“Show me.”
Your cousin held out their hand to you. A deep gash was in the middle. 
“Oohhhh kay.” You looked around you. “Logan, open up my top drawer in my desk. There should be some bandages.”
Logan did as you instructed and threw them to you. You caught them and turned back to your cousin. “How did this happen?”
“We were walking through the clearing. I slipped and tried to grab onto a tree branch.”
“And that caused the cut?” You asked as you wrapped their hand.
“Not exactly. I kinda…missed. And grabbed onto a rock instead.”
Logan stood beside you. “You must have found the sharpest rock in the forest.”
He said what you were thinking. 
“How long will it take to heal?”
“That’ll depend.”
“On what?”
“On if you’re thinking about trying to climb the tree again.”
Your cousin panicked. “B-but we weren’t.”
Logan detected a lie. 
“I have known you, your whole life.” You leaned in a little closer. “You need to stop climbing trees after it’s been raining.”
“Okay, fine.”
You took in a small breath. “It should be healed in a couple of hours. Just…wait until it’s dry before you do any more climbing.”
“Thanks, Y/n,”
As your cousin left, Logan remained fixed on his spot as you walked back to your desk. Pointing towards the door your cousin had just walked out from, Logan turned around to you. 
“That was a pretty deep gash. That’ll take more than a couple of hours to heal.”
You looked at Logan for a split second before looking back to the papers in front of you. “It’s part of their mutation. Small things he can heal from, just not as quickly as you. We don’t all have super-healing, Logan.”
Logan gave you a soft smile, but it was still questioning. He walked over to your desk. “But their mutation gives them the ability to control water. Nowhere on their file does it say ‘heal’.”
Your heartbeat jumped. 
Logan leaned up a little from your desk as you looked at him. 
He’d caught you in a lie. 
“Well, it’s not his primary power. My aunt mustn’t have thought it was important.”
Your heartbeat was normal. 
So was your breathing. 
Logan decided to drop it, but it was constantly on his mind. 
Your heartbeat had jumped when he got closer to your desk and mentioned the mutation. 
Either that was the very first lie you had told him, or your mask was slipping. 
For the next two days, Logan practically watched you like a hawk. It was rare his gaze was somewhere else other than you. 
He did question going to the Professor again, but considering he was adamant you weren’t a mutant, Logan considered it wasn’t worth the time. 
He wanted to know why you had lied to him. Or why it was now he’d only just detected it.
However, it was at least another month before he would come to find out the truth. 
“So why are we being called up?”
Scott turned towards the Professor, his arm across his chest. “Because last I checked, aren’t the fire departments meant to help with this kinda thing?”
“Usually, yes. However, we’ve been called personally. There are too many risks for just the average human being.”
A tornado had ripped through a small town, demolishing almost everything. From the brick buildings to houses to even schools. Some people were still trapped under rubble and others were hurt, if not worse. Except, the hospitals could only take so many patients at a time and the nearest hospital was at least two towns away. 
“You’ll be working alongside the departments already stationed there but the main priority is helping people out safely.”
Twenty minutes later, they were headed for the jet. 
And you caught Logan walking down the hall. “Where are you going?”
“There’s been a tornado-”
“In Oklahoma? I saw it on the news.”
“We’re going to help.”
You turned watching Logan walk further down the hall. “Wait, I’m coming with you.”
“What? Why?”
You threw your books into the nearest classroom, letting them softly slide against the desks and into their places. “I can help.”
Logan stopped and looked around. “They’ve already got too many casualties. We’re going because we’re less likely to get hurt.”
You sighed with a look. “Logan, I’ve seen at least half of the casualties. They’re gonna need more than just the X-Men. I can help.”
“Let her go with you, Logan.” The Professor rolled around the corner. “She knows what she’s doing.”
Logan took the Professor’s word for it. “Come on, before they leave without us.”
Passing your room on the way, you grabbed your jacket and a bag from under your bed. Logan looked at you curiously as you shut your bedroom door. 
“Medical supplies.” 
Logan just nodded and placed his hand at the bottom of your back guiding you down the hallway before you both set off running towards the jet. 
Upon landing, everyone got to work. 
Scott and Logan started helping those who were trapped under fallen buildings whilst Storm helped lift most of the rubble away as well as brush away most of the debris from larger areas. 
Jean began setting up medical areas for people to be treated and seen to, and you helped her. 
Thirty minutes later, you heard shouting. 
It was a kid. 
“Help! Please!”
Turning around, you yelled for Logan and he came running. 
“Hey, it’s okay.”
“It’s my leg. I-I’m stuck. Please.”
“Okay, just stay calm. Logan help me lift it.”
Before Logan could even touch the wooden boards holding the kid down, the last half of the house shook. 
“Okay,” you looked from the house to Logan. “We have to move. Quickly.”
From the count of three, you and Logan lifted the boards from the kid, except, as Logan helped the kid out, the rest of the house began to fall. 
“Watch out!” A could firemen shouted. 
Logan barely had time to react, covering the kid with his body, waiting for the impact of the house. Except it never came. 
Slowly opening his eyes, Logan was met with a semi bright light of blue and when he turned around, he was more than shocked at what he saw. 
Coming from you was a safety barrier. The house had fallen but it had fallen onto whatever blue dome you had created. 
Despite the fact you had stopped the house from falling on yourself, Logan and the kid, there was a sting inside of you. How Logan was looking at you…pure shock and hurt…that stung you to your core. 
“Get the kid out of here.”
Logan slowly jolted back into action, pulling the kid out as you turned around and pushed the house back and up before lifting it to a safe distance away from the rest of the people. 
And Logan just watched you. 
“Thank you, sir.”
Logan looked around for the voice after a moment, realising the kid was still beside him. “No worries, kid. How’s the leg? Think you can stand on your own?”
The kid nodded before looking down and paleing. “It’s bleeding.”
“Whoa, hey, okay. Take it easy.”
Logan helped him sit down on a cinderblock just as you got to his side. “Let me see.”
The kid slowly lifted his leg. “I don’t like blood.”
You knelt down and examined his leg. “It’s okay, buddy. Just close your eyes so you don’t have to look.”
“What are you gonna do?” 
You looked at Logan who was all manners of concern, confused and intrigued. 
Looking from him without answering, you allowed your hands to slowly ghost over the kids legs. Before his eyes, a blue light emitted from your palm and slowly healed the cuts on the kid's leg.  
“Okay, you’re all sorted buddy.”
The kid opened his eyes and looked at his leg. The blood stains were still there, but the cuts weren’t.
“Thank you.”
“Do you know if there are any other kids around here?”
The kid pointed you in the direction of where a couple other houses had been standing only the day before and you and Logan went back to work. 
Over the next couple of hours, Logan’s gaze towards you had gone from shock to confusion to anger. 
You had lied to him. 
Not only that, you had lied to all of them. 
“Did you know?” Jean asked, standing beside Logan as he watched you with a little girl who had been crying. From nothing, you conjured up some daisies and whisked it into a flower crown for her hair. Logan’s heart was warm at the sight. The girl had gone from red and puffy eyed to smiling and hugging you. 
Then he remembered. 
“No. I didn’t.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell us? Why lie?”
“I don’t know.”
The girl almost skipped away from you and towards some of her friends she had spotted. You were still crouched down and as you turned, you spotted Logan and Jean. 
One moment of eye contact with you and Logan started walking away in the opposite direction. 
Jean watched as he walked away and you lowered your head, standing and looking around to see if anyone else needed help. 
A firewoman approached you and asked you for help moving some old pieces of the school building. 
When you returned an hour later, the only person you could find was Storm. 
“Those were some pretty cool things you did earlier. My only question is, why not tell people about it?”
You looked at Storm as you helped her hand out small baskets of food for people. “Easier to keep to myself.”
“You know, the first day the Professor told me about you, he said you were something else. I thought it was just because you were the only human in your family. But clearly he saw something else.”
“I’m sorry, for not telling you all.”
Storm shook her head. “You never had an obligation to. It’s your life, Y/n. You get to decide how much you share with the world.”
You sighed, spotting Logan helping a couple of people out by the broken swings in the park. “I wish others could see it like that.”
Storm nudged your shoulder. “He’ll come around. He’s like a walking lie detector. He’ll be more mad at himself for not figuring it out.”
You gave Storm a thanking smile before going back to handing out supplies. 
By nightfall, most things had been cleared up and the hospitals were less packed with patients thanks to yourself and Jean. 
On the ride back you could practically feel the anger radiating from Logan. He would barely look at you. Jean and Storm seemed to be the only ones not pissed at you for not telling them. 
By the time you landed, Logan was the first off the jet, his feet heavy against the stairs as he made his way back into the school. 
“Is there anything else we should know, or do you have more lies stuffed up your sleeves?”
“Scott.” Jean warned. 
“What? You can’t tell me you’re not pissed that she’s lied to us.”
“Scott, she didn’t have to tell us if she didn’t want to.” Storm told him. 
“Still would have been nice to know.”
As Scott walked away, Jean touched your arm. “I’ll deal with him. He’s just hurt, he wasn't the first to find out.”
“How come you two aren’t mad at me?”
Storm and Jean looked at you with a faint smile on their faces. “The power you displayed today…we know what it’s like to want to hide that.”
“And we also know what it’s like to want to keep a secret. You didn’t have to share that part of your story with us, but you did because you wanted to help someone. No one can be mad at you for that.”
“Thanks, guys.”
Jean and Storm smiled as they hugged you. “Anytime. But this does mean you are making us all flower crowns. I wonder if we can get Logan to wear one?”
The three of you walked side by side back into the school. “He needs a haircut, first.”
The next day, you found yourself in the Professor’s office, the rest of the team already there.
And Logan didn’t seem any calmer. 
Just eerily quiet as he watched you from the window, walking inside and standing in the middle of the room. 
“I understand there is something you may need to share with the class?” 
You nodded. “I guess you saw it on the news?”
The Professor nodded, but he didn’t seem mad. “That, and Scott was the first to come and see me this morning.”
You looked at Scott but he just scoffed. “They have a right to know we’ve got Class 4 mutant-”
“Class 5,” you corrected. 
They all turned and looked at you with shock. Logan just stood, his arms still across his chest. 
But the Professor smiled. 
“It seems we have quite a lot to discuss. Everyone, please excuse myself and Y/n.”
Slowly, albeit reluctantly, they all left one by one. 
Your eyes followed Logan but he didn’t look at you. 
With your eyes still on the door he’d just closed, the Professor rounded his desk. “He’ll come to his senses. They all will. Please, have a seat.”
Logan didn’t see or hear from you or the Professor in over three hours. And by the time dinner rolled around, the only person he did see was the Professor. 
“Where is she?”
“Gone.”
Logan nearly shot out of his seat as he looked from the library window to the Professor. “Gone? Where-”
“Relax, Logan. She’ll be back soon enough. I told her it was best if she went and got a little fresh air. You could use some, too. Your brooding is practically stinking this place out.”
Logan fell back into his chair. “She still lied.”
“And she had good reason, too.”
Logan looked back to the Professor. “She comes from an entire family of mutants, Logan. Her childhood was spent being surrounded by those trying to manipulate powers to be something greater than they already were. If she had shown who she truly was, I fear she wouldn’t have become the person she is today. Her family, for as much as they care for her…half of them would have wanted her to stay and have her powers trained into something for their own gain. The other half would have shipped her off to hide out in a country, alone for the rest of her life. They would have been frightened of her, Logan.”
“But why lie to us?”
The Professor sighed. “Logan, if you had spent your entire life being one thing, how long do you think it would take before you feel comfortable and safe enough to share a whole other side of you to someone?”
Logan was silent for a minute. “She said she’s a Class 5.”
Charles picked up the hidden question behind Logan’s statement. “I’ve read her mind, Logan. She’s not like Jean. She’s in full control. Always has been.”
The Professor waited for a couple of minutes. “I know you care for her, Logan. Try and find a way to forgive her for not telling you sooner.”
He made it to the door before looking back at Logan. “Maybe take a walk. It might clear your head. I hear Ororo planted some Evening Primrose. They should be opening up soon.”
With that, the Professor left. 
And somehow, ten minutes later, Logan found himself taking the Professor’s advice. 
Zipping up his hoodie, Logan placed his hands into his pockets as he walked down the steps towards the gardens. It was still a little warm but there was still that hint of chill in the air that let him know Fall would be closing in soon. 
As time passed, Logan felt his mind working around the idea of you and the things you had told him, or rather hadn’t told him. 
And the Professor was right. 
The primroses had begun to open. 
Logan had never really understood why people would watch flowers or do anything with them other than plant them and pull out the weeds a few months later. But as he was contemplating about flowers and why these off all things the Professor told him to look at, he looked up and spotted you. 
You were sitting on an old swinging bench, watching the water softly ripple under the moonlight. 
Logan watched you for a moment. You were calm. You weren’t writing or scribbling in a classroom, you weren’t buzzing around the kitchen or the hallways. 
You were sat, alone, letting your mind concentrate on nothing but the constant movement of the water and the stars in the sky. 
After a few moments, Logan noticed the soft blue glow by the ground around the water. Within a second, he watched as daisy’s and some other wildflowers started to push up from the ground. All the while, a blue wisp, almost like glitter, circled around them and then died away. 
Then stems of grass began to lift before they stretched into what Logan figured out to be lilypads as they glided down onto the water. 
“Figured you’d kicked down a few trees by now.” 
Logan turned and looked back at you. Of course you knew he was there. 
“Trust me, I thought about it.”
Slowly, Logan started walking towards you. 
More flowers grew by the water's edge. 
“You should open your own flower shop.”
You smiled a little. “Would you believe me if I told you I was allergic?”
“I don’t know. Is it the truth?”
You looked up at him. “You tell me.”
Logan could hear your heartbeat. 
And he could hear your breath. 
Both steady. 
“I’m not hiding anything else from you, Logan,” you assured him. 
Logan just raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue as he moved to sit beside you. “Hard to tell these days.”
“I know you wanted to know but it was easier to keep it hidden.”
Logan nodded. “The Professor explained it to me. But everything you said in the library…”
“I was living a normal life, Logan. To my family I am human. To everyone else I was the only human in a mutant family. What I said to you that night…I meant it. I know what it’s like to be alone and to feel lost.”
“And now?”
You shrugged a little. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“On you.” Logan looked at you. You turned in your seat and looked back at the water, your fingers picking at your own hands. “And Scott. And the others. The Professor wants me to stay on, but I don’t know if I can-”
“You should stay.”
You looked back at Logan. 
“You should stay,” he repeated. “The kids…they love you. Besides, who else is gonna be able to read Rogue’s handwriting.”
“What about the others?”
Logan gave a slight nod. “They’ll come around. Scott will come around. Jean will see to that.”
“And what about you?”
Logan didn’t know what to say. 
“I care about you, Logan. I don’t know if I could carry on working here knowing you hate me for lying to you. Even worse…not being able to trust me. I am sorry for not telling you the truth, but I hope one day you can see why I did.”
“I think the Professor explained most of it.” Logan told you. “And I get why you didn’t tell us. It still hurts, but I get it.”
Your gaze fell on Logan’s face as he watched the forest come alive under the stars. 
“I care about you, too.” 
Finally, Logan’s gaze held onto yours. 
Part of you was held in suspense for when he would look away. Your heart braced itself for him to turn away. For him to say something your heart didn’t want to hear and for him to leave. 
As Logan looked at you, your heartbeat was like an echo of his own. Faint in the background, drowned out by his own rushing through his ears. 
“Promise me…” Logan tried to find his words as his own hand found yours on the bench. “Promise me you’ll keep talking to me. That you’ll tell me things. That you won’t have any more secrets with me? Good or bad…I want to know them.”
You nodded. “I promise. So long as you promise me something, too.”
Logan gave a slight smile. “Don’t think you’re in the right area to ask for promises jus-”
You sat up and turned your body towards him, your hands enveloping his hand. Logan remained silent the minute he saw your relaxed smile. 
“Promise me you’ll talk to me, too. And that you won’t try and hide your smile from me.”
Your hand grazed Logan’s cheek and he practically smiled into it. 
“I like seeing your smile.” 
Logan smiled. “I like seeing yours, too.”
With his elbow propped up against the back of the bench, his fingers slowly brushed your loose hair from your face to behind your ears and down your neck. Logan turned his head for a moment, his other hand coming to hold yours against him before he pressed a kiss to your palm. 
From there, he simply placed your hand over his heart. 
And you smiled. 
His heart calmed at your touch, and he could hear yours. 
With a soft smile that was very quickly turning into a smirk, Logan leaned forward, holding you steady before he finally kissed you. 
He wouldn’t notice until the next day but the wildflowers that bloomed by the waters edge, just as he kissed you, dug their roots permanently. Even when questioned why they could grow so close to the water without any other explanation than it being a fluke, Logan knew the truth. 
And it anyone was to question their origins and their symbolism: Eternal Love
It might finally provide an explanation. 
Pulling back to catch his breath, he heard you let out a small laugh. 
“What?”
“You seriously need a haircut.”
Logan groaned. “Still?”
“Just a little.”
A few weeks later, Logan found himself being pushed into a chair in his room as you wrapped a towel over his shoulders and pulled out a pair of hairdresser scissors and a comb. 
“You know, you could have just asked to cut my hair. You didn’t have to trick me into it.”
“Logan, I have been asking you for months. Be lucky I didn’t ask Hank to knock you out and drag you here.”
“Do you even know how to cut hair?”
You started the first couple of snips. “One of the first things I learned to do. Besides learning how to cook. People can only take so many bowl cuts and parsnip soup from Great-Aunt Vi.”
Logan smirked. “Sounds delicious.”
“Sure, if you love parsnip water with cabbage.”
You moved around to stand in front of Logan, his legs opening for you to step into them. It wasn’t long before his hands found your hips. 
Your heart jumped a little. 
“Stop it.”
Logan looked at you innocently enough. “I’m not doing anything.”
His hands glided a little higher before you whacked his knuckles with your comb. He tried his best to hold back his smirk. 
“Tease.”
It was your turn to hold back your reaction. “I’m trying to cut your hair. Distractions don’t help.”
“Don’t look distracted to me.”
You smirked a little, continuing to comb through and cut his hair. “Believe me, I’m plenty distracted.”
Logan chuckled and his hands moved back down to your hips before making repetitive strokes up and down your thighs and back to your hips. 
Time passed slowly, albeit calmly. 
“Okay, all done.”
You held a mirror in front of him. “What’d you think?”
Logan nodded before pushing the mirror down and pulling you closer to him before you found yourself sitting in his lap. “It’s nice, but I think I prefer this view.”
You blushed before kissing him, his hand raking through your hair, his breath pulling you closer. 
It wasn’t long before you were straddling his lap, his hands holding you steady by your ass and thighs. 
“Shouldn’t we,” Logan kissed you. “Be getting ready,” He kissed you again. “For dinner?”
“Good thing it starts at seven.”
You giggled a little as Logan smiled before his lips made their way down your jaw line and down your neck. Your own arms wrapped around his neck as you rocked forward on him a little, a groan coming from the back of his throat. 
“That’s in an hour.”
“Gives us plenty of time then.”
You smiled. “To do what?”
A small gasp came from you as Logan stood up with you, your legs wrapping around him. “To get ready.”
With a suggestive eyebrow raise and a small bite of his lip, you let out a small laugh before kissing him again, his chuckle vibrating against your lips as he walked you towards the en-suit bathroom. 
A small wisp of blue turned on the shower, letting the water heat up, all the while Logan set you down on the sink counter, the blue wisp locking the door, and him slowly removing your clothes before his lips left a trail in their wake, your own hands working to remove his clothes. 
By a stroke of luck, neither of you were late to dinner (this time) but there wasn’t much time left for drying your hair. Logan was still towel drying his before you both reached the dining room. 
“I see someone finally got a haircut.” 
Hank was dishing out mashed potatoes onto each plate. 
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh. honey.” Your hand pressed against Logan’s chest before you kissed his lips. “It was.”
“Didn’t hear you complaining afterwards.” Logan mumbled to you through a smirk.
You blushed brightly. Logan’s smirk prominent on his face,  his hand trained down your back and over your ass before coming to pull you in by your hips. 
Soon, everyone else piled into the dining room, you all finding your designated seats. With Logan’s beside yours, his hand remained on your upper thigh for most of the meal. 
However, no one seemed to notice that with each squeeze Logan gave you, a small row of daisies planted themselves outside, just below the windowsill. 
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paigestrap · 5 months
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i need you.
paige bueckers x fem!reader
warnings? smut (minors dni), light angst and fluff, swearing
summary - you and paige are friends until you aren’t 🤭🤭
enjoy!!! (please?) even if u don’t pls don’t tell me i’m sensitive.
you couldnt identify the point at which your friendship with paige grew into something more. meeting her in one of your soc classes when she showed up late and sat next to you, you two became friends almost instantly.
you knew who she was of course, had gone to many of the uconn women’s basketball game. and you would never tell her, but you were definitely a fan from the start, her game and personality being a major draw, and maybe also the fact that she was beautiful, like really really beautiful (a fact you would also never tell her).
you two started hanging out pretty much everyday, whether you were doing work, going out to eat, or hanging out with her and the rest of the team at a bar after games, the two of you had become quite comfortable in each others company.
but one day, things started to change. when your shoulders would touch watching your favorite show with her next to you, it sent electricity throughout your entire body, you felt yourself looking forward to the times when your hand would brush hers while walking side by side with her to class, your mood would lighten when she would text you to hangout or simply tell you about her day, and the time you spent together felt more and more intimate as your fondness for the blonde grew.
sometimes, it felt like paige was feeling the same thing you were. her eyes would linger for longer than you felt a friend’s eyes should, her touches felt more intentional, her compliments more frequent, and her words gentler. there were times when you both were alone where it seemed like the two of you were so close to crossing that line. like the first time she asked you to spend the night, and you woke up the next morning in her arms. or when she asked you to wear her jersey to her game the next day, and of course you obliged. she asked you afterwards if you would wear her jersey for every one, justifying her request by saying you’re her “good luck charm” and of course her good luck charm needs to rep her jersey, and of course, you obliged. when you were out with her at the bar and the two of you had been drinking she would constantly be touching you, hugging you, and telling you how much you meant to her. you couldn’t tell if this was paige being paige, or if she was truthful in her words and actions.
these moments were always left unspoken, as neither you nor her felt confident enough to ever cross that line. but your heart yearned for her. her touch, her voice, her laugh, her beautiful mind. and it was getting harder and harder everyday to hide your feelings.
now, with her returning to campus after the uconn women’s basketball team lost to iowa in the final four, you feel those inhibitions being lifted. your phone screen lit up as her contact appeared on your lock screen.
p: need u rn. can u come over?
you: of course, i’m on my way
as you walk out of your apartment to make your way to your friend you realize now the extent to which you feel for her and you want nothing more than to hold her in your arms and comfort her.
“hey,” she says, opening the door for you, her face betraying her overwhelming grief. you don’t say anything, you just pull her into a hug as she lets out her first of many tears.
“i know. i’m so sorry paige. you deserved the win, you all did” you say, comforting her while also holding back tears of your own.
“can we go to my room, just wanna be with you right now,” her tear stained eyes meet yours, and your heart swells at the urge to kiss her tears away.
“of course, i’m here for whatever you need, always” you say, grabbing her hand as the two of you make your way towards her room.
“i wish you’d been there, missed you so much it’s crazy,” she admits as you both lay down side by side in her bed. her eyes never breaking away from yours.
“i missed you too paige, im so sorry i couldn’t be there for you. i hope you know how much i wish i could’ve” you pull her into your arms and embrace her as her tears begin to fall again.
“i think,” she starts, but stops herself and pauses for a long time. you are about to ask her about it before she continues, “i think i realized something about myself this weekend”
another pause. your heart beats faster, you curse yourself knowing paige could feel it too. “what’s that,” your voice is barely audible as you struggle to get the words out.
“i need you, like i really really need you. ever since i met you i just wanna be by you all the time. when we lost i just wanted you to be there and,” she propped herself up to look at you before pulling you in to a tight embrace “i’m scared that you don’t need me too” her voice breaks at the end, shattering any hope of disguising her emotions.
“oh paige, you have no idea,” you say, feeling yourself breaking at her words. you pull away from her embrace and stare into her eyes, searching for a reason not to let your walls fall. you don’t see one, “i need you like i need oxygen to breathe. the world feels muffled when you’re not next to me, i admire everything about you and i’ve never felt this way about another person before. i’ve been so scared these past few weeks that i’ll lose you if you find out how much i want you, but i can’t go on pretending i think of you as my friend when you are so much more than that.” there it is. there’s no going back now. your eyes move away from hers as you await her response.
“baby,” she whispers, hand moving to caress your cheek as she gently pulls your face in her direction, “you’ll never lose me,”
suddenly, the space between you feels so small, and in a swift motion she closes the gap between you and kisses you. the world around you begins to spin as all of your senses become heightened. you feel yourself kiss back, not too hard, not too soft, and suddenly the emotions brimming for the past months come flooding to you all at once.
her hands meet your waist as she shifts her weight to be positioned on top of you, your legs opening as she places herself in between them, never breaking your kiss.
she eventually breaks it to look down on you, a million emotions displayed on her face. she reconnects your lips with hers and you feel yourself giving in completely, desire for the blonde blooming as her kisses grow hungrier. “i want you so bad” she says breathlessly in between kisses. her tongue grazes your bottom lip, requesting entrance, and as with all of her requests, you oblige.
“please, paige,” you let out, suppressing the moans threatening to slip out as her tongue explores your mouth. you tug on her shirt, needing to feel her body closer. she takes it off and removes your shirt as well. leaving you in only your bra on top. she smiles as she looks at your now exposed body.
“god, your tits are fucking amazing,” she remarks, staring at them lustfully. you blush, suddenly feeling so exposed. her hands reach your back as she unclasps the final layer, removing your bra and revealing your bare chest. she fondles your tits and the sudden touch elicits a moan you didn’t have the restraint to hold back. her hands feel so good, and you desperately need them somewhere else, “i wanna fuck you so bad babe”
“god paige please i need you so badly” you whine, so far gone at this point to even try to hide your burning desire.
“yeah?” she grins, biting her lip and licking her lips, “where do you need me, my sweet girl, show me”
you pull yourself up and remove your bottoms, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you grow increasingly aware of how wet you are, and embarrassed at how obvious it is. her hands roam your body and she grips both of your thighs, her gaze lowering to your heat. “you’re so wet, all because of me?” she asks like she doesn’t know the answer and lets her finger graze over your clothed pussy. you moan as she touches your clit, grinding your hips desperate for more. “so needy baby, i’m gonna take these off now alright?” you nod as she removes your panties, leaving you completely exposed and at her expense.
her hand meets your bare pussy, rubbing in between your folds and onto your clit, eliciting a loud moan from you as your body reacts to her touch. you move your head to the side and close your eyes, letting the pleasure take over. but you are quickly brought back to reality when she stops touching you and takes your face into her hand, bringing it back to face her, “i want you to look at me when i fuck you, do you understand baby?” she plants a kiss on your lips and you nod in response, unable to say a thing.
her fingers move back towards your heat and she slides one into you, “how’s that sweet girl, does that feel good?”
“yes. please. more.” you whine, your body burning at her touch, desperately needing more.
“oh yeah?” she teased as she slipped another finger in you, slowly pumping them in and out of you, curling them so she could feel them stretching against your walls.
you were done for. your body twisting and rutting against her, only causing her to quicken her pace inside you, never breaking your gaze for a second. “god you’re so fucking gorgeous like this, all mine”
your senses overloaded by her hungry words and quickening pace, you felt yourself nearing your climax “paige, please don’t stop. i’m so close” you beg, causing her to fuck you harder and faster.
“yeah? come for me baby, you’ve done so well, my pretty girl,” that was all it took to force you over the edge. you come hard, screaming out her name as the pleasure enveloped your entire body. she fucks you through your orgasm, whispering in your ear the entire time telling you how pretty you look and how good you are.
the wave of pleasure subsiding and your senses gradual coming back to you, she slides her fingers out of you, licking your wetness off of them and falling back onto your smaller figure.
“holy shit” you breathe out, panting. suddenly feeling very sleepy.
“yeah, holy shit.” she laughs, “you’re so fucking hot, you know that?” you blush at her compliment, burying your face in her chest.
“do you still think i don’t need you?” you ask, looking up at her with a shy smile. she grins, giving you a sweet kiss and looking at you with so much endearment it makes your heart swell.
“no, i’m pretty sure you made yourself clear” she laughs, pulling you closer.
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PUT ON YOUR RECORDS AND REGRET ME
katsuki bakugou x reader
should you open the door after all he’s done?
part 2/3
a/n: ty for all the love on part 1 🤍
not saying this is a major vent based off of personal experience but im not not saying that
inspired by high infidelity
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to say you didn’t always have suspicions would be a lie. you didn’t want to believe them. broken locks, shifty text messages, numbers you didn’t always recognize, and the slight feeling of him pulling away. you didn’t think he’d actually do it. and honestly, neither did he.
alcohol does crazy things to a person. and so when you, your boyfriend, and all his friends decided to go out to a bar to celebrate his birthday, you knew it wasn’t going to be a tame night. but you didn’t think you’d go home, alone and crying, the scent of whiskey lingering on your clothes.
he bent the truth too far that night. he came to you in the morning, his hangover evident by his eye bags and poor choice of clothing. he still smelled like alcohol from the night before.
and despite all that, you still listened. listened to his story about how he was whisked away in a drinking game with kaminari and kirishima, and bakugou was supposedly the only one sober enough to take the two guys home. that made a convenient explanation as to why he left you all alone with no ride home.
and pathetically so, you wanted to believe him. despite the radio silence from everyone the everyone the previous night, the smell of perfume on his shirt that smelled too strong to be yours, and the taste of someone else when he kissed your lips.
and for each day after that, you learned more and more the many different ways you can kill the one you love. the worst way is never loving them enough.
it started by your calls going straight to voicemail- each time he’d say that his phone died while he was patrolling. then constantly needing to call kirishima, the only other person who knows him like you do, desperately needing help to manage his emotions. the redhead had infinite patience for your boyfriend, and you were thankful for that- but you also wondered what haunted bakugou so much that he couldn’t go to you for.
he wanted to play the role of the good guy, even if it was just that- a role. he wanted to be who you deserved, even after he earned a big black stain on his morality after the crime he committed. he wanted things to just be normal, but it couldn’t. he was lying through his teeth and you both knew it, and yet couldn’t say anything about it.
until april 29th. exactly 9 days after his birthday. 9 days after what he did.
he breaks it off quick. he tells you that he’s not treating you right, that he’s a shitty boyfriend and a shitty person. that he needs to be a better person and that he can’t make you wait for him. and so, katsuki bakugou leave safe and stranded.
and in a way, he was right. being a shitty boyfriend, being everything you don’t deserve was only a part of it- he knew that if he stayed with you any longer, the guilt from the truth would eat him alive. so selfishly, he chose to preserve himself and to let you hurt. that might have killed him more.
you didn’t even bother to get your things from his apartment. in fact, you couldn’t get out of bed. because you kneel you were lied too yet you didn’t want to revel in the truth. the truth that katsuki bakugou wasn’t just a shitty boyfriend, he was a shitty cheating boyfriend.
you denied everything for the days to come. you hoped it was all just some twisted dream, and that what happened wasn’t really happening. that was all so until the day you got a visit from a certain redhead.
it was a normal day. you were lounging in your apartment, needing time away from all the heartache in the world. you treated your suspicions like a secret. maybe if you didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t have actually happened. as if simple denial could erase reality.
the sun is setting when your doorbell rings. when you answer, its kirishima. your heart sinks, wondering why he’d be visiting you directly. you wanted to hope for the best, but you didn’t exactly know what to expect.
the redhead grimaces when he sees the way he breaks your heart. he knows he’s doing the right thing, but he hates how the right thing is causing you so much pain. he explains to you the truth of that night, behind katsuki’s sudden break up. how it wasn’t just because he felt like he wasn’t good enough- what he did actually proved that fear. kirishima explains how bakugou got absolutely shit-faced drunk, and how he went home with who was not, in fact, you. he tries to salvage it, by saying that katsuki didn’t hesitate to cut her off, to tell her it was a mistake and that he shouldn’t have done it. he was also quick to tell his best friend how god damn unmanly it was for him to cheat on you. he says that he couldn’t take it anymore watching you being lied even during the split.
“i’m so fucking sorry, [y/n].” he concludes his confession, his red eyes looking into yours. he hates that this is happening. he loves bakugou, and by extension he loves you, and he can’t stand the idea of this happening to his two favourite people in the world.
you don’t say much as he leaves. what could you say, anyway?
katsuki bakugou had cheated on you.
✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚
after your suspicions were confirmed, you finally mustered up enough courage to get out of bed. you went over to his apartment and quietly collected your things, your heart racing out of your chest just being in his presence. and of course, he tries to stop you. he knows you’ve learned the truth and it makes his stomach churn.
“fucking some other girl is one thing, but lying to me too.” you hiss, both of you wincing at the sound of your voice cracking under all the heart. his usual smart ass mouth is silent, knowing damn well he deserves the accusations. what hurts more is seeing the tears run down your face, dragging the mascara down your cheeks. “you told me it was for my own good. t-that you needed to work on yourself. not that you cheated!”
“…i didn’t wanna hurt you even more.” he finally admits, as if pleading guilty in front a judge. and you actually scoff.
“you coward.” you hiss.
“yeah, i’m a FUCKING coward, [y/n]! i know!” he raises his voice, but you’re too numb from the hurt to care. “i couldn’t live with myself! waking up next to you knowing i fucking betrayed you. i had to let you go. you deserved more than me!”
and honestly, you don’t know what to think. you’re so angry and hurt over the fact that he cheated on you, lied, and broke up with you all in the same month.
you could see the guilt eating him up from the inside. you could see how your tear stained face right now was killing him. his anger was like an anchor dug straight through his heart. you could see in his eyes he’s been wanting to tear his own skin off after what he did to you.
you hastily wipe your eyes dry, turning away from him and moving towards the front door. his legs that were glued to the ground finally move, catching your wrist just as your about to turn the door knob.
and you actually wait. you wait to see what he’ll say. you wait to hear all his shitty excuses, or even to taste his lips and taste something that isn’t you. deep down in your heart, you hope he fights for you. that he’ll fight to keep you around, to love you again.
what hurts the most is that he doesn’t.
“…get home safe, babe.”
you nod, eyes welling up again before exiting his apartment. the walk back down is silent, even as your good friend, shouto, opens the door for you. he drives you home, playing all the breakup songs he knows you love. he’s silent, but he knows its what you need right now.
once he pulls up to your driveway, he finally musters up the courage to speak.
“…i’m sorry, [y/n].”
his voice is so velvet, a stark contrast to your ex boyfriend’s. but honestly, everyones attempts to talk to you all seem futile. you sigh, looking over at your friend with tear stained eyes.
“you know the worst part?”
“whats the worst part?”
“…i think i still love him.”
and thats the worst part.
reminder that cheating is a horrible thing to do and love does not equal forgiveness. this is simply just fiction! 🪞
part 3 soon! 🪽
tags: 💿
@katsukified @theclassiccherry @the-dumpster-fire-of-life @kitkatlover015 @mia-luvs @mikestuffffs @sleepyk0dyz @blue-chup @sleepieenaps @devils-adversary @darling-eos @dilance-rock @jxstmxlly15 @suki0 @morganalatina21 @khadeejanaur @fictional-men-dum @pretty-sparkle-bomb @naladrawssss @whenanafallsinlove
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vvampirelust · 2 months
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just thinking about ellie and shane being obsessed with actress!reader
warnings: smut, filmindustryAU, actress!reader x shane x ellie, weird crossover i know, oral (r receiving), not proof read
it all started when you moved to LA for for a part in an upcoming sci-fi role. a huge change, uprooting your life suddenly…but this could be your big break. you were diving in having no previous interaction to anyone on the movie, therefore you had expected to make connections, friends, opportunities. what you weren’t expecting, was to meet them.
first is your hairstylist, who had the socks charmed right off you minutes after sitting in her chair. Shane, she carries herself with such confidence, knowing exactly how hot she is. big on eye contact as she kneels to level with you, explaining what she’s gonna be doing with you each day. she’s just doing her job, you have to tell yourself when she mutters things like “mhm, that’s hot,” as she admires her work. or “you’ll look beautiful if we just…yeah, that’s it,” nimble fingers pinning the front of your hair back. other hand gently pulling messy strands out to fit the scene you were doing, fingertips always lingering a little longer as she skims the skin of your face.
and then there’s Ellie, assistant director, working her way into SFX, getting at much experience as she may need. when you first saw her on set you were convinced the two of you would not get along. after witnessing her grumpy attitude, scowling and sighing, snapping into the mic of her headset. yet when ellie is sent to tell you, you were needed back on set, she was wide eyed and blushing. you found her adorable, the way she stumbled over her words, attempting weakly to rephrase herself, “i mean, shit. would you mind coming back to set with me? big man’s asking for ya’ but you know, if you’re busy it’s cool. i’ll uhm-yeah i mean i can talk to him?” she’s awkward and unsure of herself but returns your grin with a shy smile of her own. since then, she loves fetching you for your scenes, always ensuring she’s not busy, jumping at the opportunity to spend even just 5 minutes a day getting to know you.
the two girls soon became aware of their mutual interest, neither exactly hiding their attraction. ellie would huff every morning she came to pick you up from hair and makeup. not so silently grumbling when shane would lean down to whisper some inside joke you shared. hating the way you would laugh, flashing that pretty smile of yours. the hairstylist would flick her gaze to ellie in the mirror, smirking as always. now ellie would never admit it, but she too was made flustered by shane’s charm.
~
one night, the three of you were together in the hotel room you were staying in. a little drunk, celebrating being halfway through filming. other friends you had made along the way had been and gone, empty glasses and beer bottles left in their absence.
thighs touching as you now sat comfortably between shane and ellie, staring intently out of the floor to ceiling windows. city lights shining in the night, tiny little dots from how high up you were. how the hell did you get here? shane cut the silence, and the bullshit, pulling you out of your thoughts with one question. “if you had to choose one of us, me or ellie?” what shane doesn’t know is you’ve been trying to figure that out since your first week on set. so you shrug, “i really don’t know.” neither of them enjoy that answer. “i like the both of you,” you say with a sigh, but it is the truth.
turning to shane first, your lips meet in a slow, tentative kiss, breaking the barrier. her hand slides around your waist, you gasp, and shane kisses you harder. heating by the second, tongue sweeping in to taste. shane’s showing off, pulling you into her lap, knowing ellie is sat frozen on the other side of you, feeling a mix of jealousy and guilt for watching but she’s never been more turned on. your hand finds shane’s throat, softly pushing her head back against the sofa. she’s smug, eyes daring as she looks up to watch what’s next. you’re beckoning ellie to come closer, practically gulping as she does. your free hand cups the back of her neck, pulling her in, lips shyly slotting against yours. ellie gains confidence in her kisses, eagerness in each swirl of her tongue. her plump, bitten lips feel so soft against your own, each satisfied hum from ellie vibrates over your mouth. it takes all your strength to break the kiss, especially as ellie stays there, panting through parted lips, cheeks flushed, eyes blinking open in confusion. she follows your gaze, your eyes innocently cheekily flicking between the two. shane straightens her posture, the three of you closer than ever. each can feel the others breath, each knowing there’s no going back now. shane leans in, capturing ellie’s mouth, who’s moaning instantly. tongues clash, eager for more.
shane breaks away to kiss along your cheek to the corner of your mouth, her hand joining yours behind ellie’s neck, urging her to follow. ellie’s tongue swipes your lips, and shane’s. your own seeks to taste them both, the three of you releasing whimpered sounds as your tongues messily dance with each other, pushing past your lips to try and get more of you.
which is why they now have you laid back on the couch, shane and ellie kneeling on the floor between your legs. stripped bare, pushed back and spread wide. ellie’s freckle splattered cheek is smushed against shane’s, sticky and wet from the mess made between your thighs. their mouths are latched onto your swollen cunt, simultaneously eating you out as if you were the last food source on earth. tongues clash, sliding up and down your pussy, curling around the other as they dip into your folds. the slurping sounds are inescapable, making you whimper and squirm, cunt pounding harder. they trap your clit between their tongue, massaging with enough pressure to make you mewl. “oh my god,” your hands land on each other their heads, trying to push them down, to ease up the overstimulation making your stomach tense up so much, it hurt. “fuck, it’s so good,” you’re moaning, hips bucking, “feels so good.” shane slides her tongue to your sloppy hole, slipping inside, she fucks you with her tongue while ellie keeps your clit trapped between her pursed lips.
your first orgasm of the night felt different than any other you had experienced before, so intense, so filthy and intimate. you couldn’t warn them, unable to find the strength to sleep as the euphoria paralysed your mind. ellie swears she can feel your heartbeat through your clit, trembling thighs giving away your release. in the back of your head, you can hear shane moaning, or maybe it’s the vibrations against your cunt you can feel. shane can feel your soft walls clamping around her tongue and she suddenly needs her fingers inside of you. “tight fucking pussy, babe,” shane grunts, two fingers thrusting into you with ease, earning a loud moan from you, back arching as she reaches so deep inside you, “fuck, you’re so pretty,” she near whimpers, a third finger squishing inside your clenching hole.
“shane, ellie, i- fuck,” you trail off into a pathetic sob, another climax approaching so soon. ellie hasn’t let up on your poor clit, her sensational tongue playing with the sensitive little bud as if it were her favourite toy. paired with shane’s long fingers knuckle deep, rutting into your pussy at such a fast pace you’re seeing stars in the back of your head, curling up just right, battering your g-spot with each thrust. it’s too much all at once. but you like that, you squirm in pleasure at the torture you endure. the heat in your belly getting hotter and hotter, tightening, threatening to explode. shane rests against the inside of your thigh, a tired smile on her wet lips, admiring the state you were in. whimpering, shaking, on the verge of cumming. “let us have it baby, come on,” shane moans softly, feeling you tightening around her fingers, “cum for us, please baby.” she begs as if you could resist how good they make you feel.
and this is just the beginning.
if it isn’t obvious, i watched challengers the other day
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teddybeartoji · 1 month
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
thinking about playing truth or dare with seijoh 4 and then getting dared to kiss mattsun right there in front of them all mmmhmmm you know he would love that shit – there's a permanent smirk glued to his lips as you climb onto his lap, his hands tugging on the material of your shirt to pull you flush to him. he's so fucking cocky and it gets so messy so fast but it's not like any of the other boys are gonna tell you to stop either. their eyes are low and their pupils grow bigger with every passing second, their throats dry as they watch you swap saliva with the dark-haired man. they can hear everything over the soft music that's playing in the background and it's so hard not to focus on the way you're starting to grind back and forth on mattsun's lap.
your fingers play with the unruly hairs on his nape while his dig into your plush skin and as you're getting more and more into it, mattsun's ego blooms. his one hand moves to the back of your head to deepen the kiss even further and as he does so, his eyes flick open and he's met with the filthy gazes of his three best friends. he hums proudly into your mouth at the sight of a blushing makki, who's hand is resting suspiciously close to his lap, a seemingly spiraling iwaizumi, who's trying his best not to look at what's happening before him but is failing so miserably that it's almost funny, and an overly keen oikawa, who's sat there with his lip caught between his teeth. they're all red in the face and mattsun thinks it's adorable really, how worked up you always get the poor guys.
they all want a taste, they all want to feel but for the time being, this little show the both of you are putting on will have to suffice. mattsun tugs on the waistband of your jeans and iwaizumi has to force down a groan as his eyes land on your ass. the lewd thoughts flood his mind and he feels awful – you're one of his closest friends and this is how he thinks of you? how you even feel if you found out.. would you be mad? would you be disgusted?
while he's fighting with the demons in his head, makki and oikawa are doing just about the same. makki's zoned in on the way your chests keep rubbing together and he can't stop imagining about how good it'd feel to have you rubbing up against him like that. and oikawa's busy listening to the sounds. not a single gasp or mewl goes unnoticed in his ears as he tries to memorize them as best as he can with the intention of going home and humping his pillow to the heavenly melody that's your needy whines until he's crying tears of pleasure.
so when he hears you whisper into mattsun's mouth, his cock twitches in his slacks.
"are they still watching?"
you don't think they're overstepping, you don't think that the men you've grown so close with over the years are disgusting perverts for getting off on the sight of you making out with one of them – you want them to watch. you're the one that's getting off on it, you're the one with all the power. oikawa realizes that no matter how much mattsun wants to act like he's the one that's making this happen, he's probably rock hard, too. he's no better than his friends, he's just glad that he's the one that gets to actually kiss you. but there's a reason for that aswell – neither makki and iwaizumi wouldn't've been able to handle it and well oikawa himself...
his and mattsun's eyes meet once more across the dark room and he knows his playing right into your hand. of course, he's going to figure out what you're doing – that's exactly what you want. he's the next person to fall, he's the next you're going to pull in.
pulling your lips from mattsun's, you grin to yourself as you watch him chase after you for another second. but then you're craning your neck to glance at oikawa over your shoulder; you let your eyes drop to his crotch before flicking back up again, reveling in the way he turns another shade darker. he refuses to look away though – he's gladly stepping into the trap you've set for all of them, and so when you curl your finger at him, beckoning him closer like some siren, he's quick to spring up on his feet and make his way over, leaving makki and iwaizumi staring at his back in bewilderment.
still sat on mattsun's lap with his hands on your body, you lean back enough just to give oikawa the room to inch closer. you reach for his face and pull his lips down onto yours with mattsun right there, just a breath away. he's sweeter than your last kiss and you can't wait to let them all know how they taste later.
you can't wait to have them all. one by one.
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angelfrombeneth · 8 months
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7 MINUTES - T . NOTT
Mature Content Ahead
Theodore Nott x F!Reader
Summary: *REQUESTED* During a late night with your friends, after a chaotic slytherin party - you all wind down in the boys dorms. After a while, a game is played with a twist, Who knows what'll happen in that small wardrobe.
Warnings: SMUT, Switch!Theo, Switch!Reader, Oral both F & M!Receiving, Breathplay, Dacryphillia
A/N: This isn't proof read, I apologise. I've been really busy with deadlines so writing may not be as good. I'm writing a good two part smut that'll come out soon!
You and Theodore are friends, and have been for years. You both harbour a small crush on one another but neither of you two know about the others crush - and neither do your friends, except Pansy.
Pansy knows every single secret that passes through Hogwarts. She knows everything about everyone and basically has hundreds of secrets at her disposal. Times like these, makes you grateful you guys are friends and not enemies.
After an infamous Slytherin party, which was chaotic as always. You all retreated up to the boys dorm and into Mattheo, Theodore and Enzo's shared dorm - much to Mattheo's dismay.
Mattheo stumbled over to his bed, crashing face first into the pillows, letting out a loud groan.
"I told you not to drink so much" Pansy scoffed, throwing a pillow harshly at him as she grabbed your hand and pulled you over to Enzo, who was sat on his bed.
You sat, giggling as you snuggled between Pansy and Enzo. The pair cuddling you from both sides.
"Why is it that the gay ones get the most action" Draco scoffed in our direction. Sitting beside Blaise on Theo's bed as Theo sat pratically ontop of Mattheo.
"Don't be upset Draco, we get more action that you" Pansy snickered.
"Fuck off" Draco scoffs.
At that moment Daphne, Luna, Astoria, Cedric and Hermione join. Hermione was particularly nervous being in the Slytherin common room, especially the fact her two best friends are Slytherin mega haters.
You and Pansy had adopted Hermione into your 'girlie' group after you heard abt issues between her and Ron, she needed some girly guidance and you guys were there.
"Mione!" You cheered, as she smiled seeing you as she walked over you both exchanging a hug.
"Nice to know your excited to see me Y/N" Astoria scoffed. You and Astoria were good friends, with her being Daphne's younger sister she was worried about bonding with people - but you two were like glue always having the best jokes together.
"Shut up Tori" You laughed.
Everyone sat down in huddles and exchanged light conversation. Mattheo pulled out his bong which got everyone looking at him. It wasn't long before everyone sat in a circle and was passing it around and basking in the 'chill vibes'.
You were sat inbetween Enzo and Astoria, giggling away at something Enzo had said. You felt eyes on you, and looked up to see Theo's dark piercing gaze looming over you. He had been looking at you all night, you noticed it and he knew you knew. But you both were too pussy to even make a move.
He turned away, putting a cigarette in his mouth, covering the end as he lit it with his lighter before taking the cigarette between his fingers, leaning back and exhaling up in the air. His arms tensed as he held his weight his muscles slightly prominent. Theo was the definition of a sleeper build, you didn't know for sure but what you had seen from his arms you had a suspicion.
"Alright!" Pansy slapped her hands together. "I think we should play a game. How about, kiss or tell~" She sang. Everyone laughing at her, a few groans sounding around the room.
"Kiss or tell?" Hermionie questioned.
Daphne giggled at her as she sat back on Blaises lap, "Its where someone asks you kiss or tell, you choose and if it's kiss- we spin the bottle and whoever it lands on you kiss OR tell, you have to answer a truth question". Hermione nodded.
"Okay... I'll start Kiss or Tell.. Enzo" Pansy smiled to Enzo.
"Tell because I know you want some secrets" Enzo smirked.
"I always do, now.. Is it true you hooked up with Pucey and Wood in the same night" Everyone's head snapped to Enzo hearing the same rumour had been circulating Hogwarts for a few weeks.
"Yes and No? I did hook up with Pucey and Wood in the same night but it was also Fred Weasley too" He smirked. Everyone laughing at his response.
"You whore!" Draco laughed.
"I always knew you were sneaky" Mattheo looked at Enzo.
"Is that why I had to sleep on the fucking common room couch?" Theo scoffed.
Everyone laughed due to Theo's confession. The game went on a few more times, Draco choosing to kiss Blaise, Blaise admiring he blocked the toilet, Cedric and Enzo kissing, Pansy and Luna kissing, Hermione and Daphnne kissing, Enzo and You kissing which then brings you back to Enzo again.
"OK OK.. Astoria, Kiss or Tell?"
"Kiss duh!" She said as she pushed her hair back from her shoulders.
"Kiss... Mattheo" Enzo span the bottme, watching as it landed on Mattheo, he smirked. Only you, Pansy and Enzo knew of Astoria's mini crush on Mattheo.
You hid your mouth behind your hand as he grinned. Her eyes shooting daggers towards you and Enzo.
"Pucker up, sugar tits" Mattheo sighed as he watched Astoria get up from her spot.
"Shut up Mattheo" She groaned as she crouched before him, placing her hand on his shoulder as she kissed him.
Whopping sounded through the room as the pair kissed, after a few moment they pulled away- surprisingly both very red.
"Mattheo are you hard" Theo teased him, earning a massive smack over the head. "Ow! Fuck!"
You giggled slightly as Theo, rubbed the back of his head, looking up at you.
"Actually, I wanna change the rules because that was cruel!" She smirked as she rubbed her chin, staring directly at you. "Y/N" She cooed.
You stared at her blankly. "7 minutes" everyone sounded intruiged. "In the wardrobe with... Theodore" Astoria didn't know about your crush on Theo. Only Pansy but you froze when she said his name.
"Interesting pairing Tori" Blaise quirked.
"Very interesting actually, I didn't expect that" Cedric looked to Enzo, him nodding along.
You stood up, darting your eyes over to Pansy who had a devilish grin.
"While your both in there we will play Spin the bottle!" Astoria clasped her hands. You turned your head away from her and was faced with a chest. Theo's chest as he stood infront of you. You froze for a moment but he took your wrist and guided you over to the slightly walk in wardrobe. The pair of you pulled the door to the side as you stepped in, closing the door.
"Seven minutes!" Astoria yelled and that's the last thing you heard before shut.
"Why would she change the game" You scoffed, leaning against the wall.
"Very Astoria, flippy-floppy as always" He laughed. The small light in the room, lighting up his face slightly but it was still quiet dark. The pair of you leaning against opposite walls as you looked at eachother. Despite being on other sides it was a small wardrobe. His leg was pratically sandwiched between yours as you both cramped in here. Theo was like 6'1 and you were like 5'6 so the height difference was a bit.
"Its so cramped in here" You moved slightly, looming up to see Theo right above you. This was a very uncomftable situation and you were getting hot. "Its quite hot in here-" You awkwardly laughed as you fanned yourself.
Theo smirked down at you, noticing your very prominent cheeks. He had an ideas, he wanted to test- it was either now or never. He lifted his leg slightly between yours rubbing his thigh against your core as yiu squeaked. "Sorry, its quite tight-"
Your face reddened, your mind was plagued with dirty thoughts as you let out a shaky laugh. "Its ok-" You croaked.
"Fuck my life, your oblivious" Theo groaned as he placed a hand on your neck, crashing his lips against yours. You froze for a moment which caused Theo to pull away. Before he could say anything you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him back as your lips hit eachothers. This is all you wanted, was to kiss Theo.
Theo's free hand slid down your waist and around to your ass as he squeezed it slightly. You gasped at the motion which he took as an invitation to shove his tonguebin your mouth. The two of you were making out for what felt like forever before you both pulled away panting.
You stared at him, his face just millimeteres from yours. You can feel eachothers breath on one another. You saw his lips curl into a smirk as he pecked your lips once more before latching his mouth to your neck. It took you off guard and you let out a soft squeak as you leaned your head back. His lips were attacking your neck, nibbling and sucking but not enough to leave a prominent hickey which you were grateful. He moved further down towards your chest before stopping and looking up at you. You smiled down at him and he took that as permission as he reached round and unzipped your strapless dress, watching as it fell from your body revealing your extremely bare breasts.
"One piece of fabric covering these.. Fuck me" He smirked, kissing towards your breast before latching his mouth onto them, sucking the skin softly as he groped the other one with his hand. You let out soft shaky moans, gripping his hair tightly as you leaned your head back.
"Fuck- Teddy" you sighed, you could feel his smirk against your skin as he pulled away, dropping to his knees as he pushed you up against the folding door. It rustled for a moment but you were too invested in Theo. He bit and sucked at your thighs, definitely leaving marks here as he moved closer and closer to your core. His fingers hooking on the sides of your panties as he looked up at you.
"May I?" You nodded as he smiled, pulling tour panties down slowly as you quickly stepped out of them and he tucked them in his pocket. "Going to keep these, a little trophy"
Before you could protest his hand pushed your stomach as you leaned back against the door, your hands tangled in his hair as you peered down at him.
"Don't worry Bella, I'm a master" He smirked as he tapped your thigh for you to spread your legs before diving in head first.
You yelped, gripping at his hair as you leaned back, nibbling at your lip to hold your moans in. You gasped as you felt his tongue move inside of you, his nose rubbing against your clit as he ate you out.
You were entranced in heaven. Theo lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder to get a deeper angle, you really were in heaven. You tugged his hair as you let out soft moans, being careful not to be too loud.
"Fuck!" Your body betraying you as you slapped a hand over your mouth quickly as you grinded down on his face. Your eyes rolling in pleasure as he tongue moved lyrically against your folds. Like he was singing a song. The way he swirled and flicked had you nearly on the floor, if it wasn't for him and the door supporting you.
You gasped loudly as you whimpered out tugging his hair before throwing your head back and cumming all over his face. You panted heavily, your hand still over your mouth as you stood out of breath.
Theo pulled away, putting your leg down as he smirked, licking his lips as he stood up to look at you. "Taste perfect"
You gulped as you looked up at him.
"I love how you're still nervous, you're cute. Now taste yourself" He smiled as he kissed you softly once again. His hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer. You could feel his clothed boner rubbing against your stomach as you gulped.
"Mhm.. Cute" He smiled as he pulled away. Theo didn't expect anything from you which was a huge change. He wanted to pleasure you and that's that- but you wanted to pleasure him.
You took his wrist looking at his watch. 4 minutes. You flicked your hair back as you settled onto your knees. Theo looking down at your questionably as you tugged at his trousers.
"Oh- Bella you don't have to-"
"Shh, I want to" You smiled, yanking off his belt, dropping it to the floor as you unbuttoned his trousers, yanking them down.
His throbbing erection directly infront of you in his boxers. You took a deep breath before yanking down his boxers, as they dropped to his ankles. Watching as his dick sprung out. You stared up at him in disbelief due to the size. You hasn't been with anyone this big before.
"You think you can take it, Principessa" He smirked as he caressed your cheek.
"I can try" You chuckled, pumping him a few times before licking the tip softly. His bottle lip instantly retracting into his mouth as he bit the flesh. You worked on getting him excited, licking up his length and swirling your tongue around the tip as you listened to his gasps and sighs above.
After a small amount of teasing you took the first few inches into your mouth. Sucking softly as you used your hands to satisfy the rest. Soft moans left his mouth as his hand collected your hair and yanked it into a ponytail.
"Fuck- your so hot" He sighed.
You take a few more inches, bobbing your head up and down at this point as you gripped his thigh. After getting used to it you took him in whole. You gagged slightly at first but continued to swirl your tongue around his whole length as you moved your head up and down against it. Theo's soft whines leaving his lips as he leaned back, panting heavily.
"Fuck yes.. More" He whimpered out as he pleaded to you. You didn't know you needed to see a submissive Theodore till now.
You continued to work your magic, popping his dick out your mouth as you licked and sucked the side before deep throwing yet again. The moans and whines from him as he hit your throat were amazing. You snaked your free hand that wasn't gripping his thigh down between your legs and you rubbed your clit. Grinding down against it as you hummed, bobbing your head. He was making you feel good all over and it was driving you insane.
"Fuck- Y/N- I can't hold back.. Fuck im sorry" He yelped as he gasped, gripping your hair tightly as he began to fuck into your mouth. It didn't take you completely off guard as you prepared for it. Your eyes rolled slightly as he continuesly hit the back of your throat, light gags coming from you as you slid your finger past your folds and inside of you as you fucked yourself.
Theo's breathless moans and whines sounded the wardrobe as he growled as he fucked into your throat harshly. Tears streaming down your face as your hand gripped harder on his thigh.
"Yes, take it like the slut you are hmm.. your a slut for me right" You hummed loudly as you sobbed with his cock full in your mouth.
"Love it, when cry for me" He smirked, watching as tears fell down your face. His pace speeding up at the sight.
You needed to tap out it was too much for you, you pushed your finger inside you once more before you came all over it, quickly pulling you as you gripped his thighs tightly aa his pace sped. You gaged quite loudly as tears poured from your eyes. Theo pulled out quickly for a moment, jerking himself off harshly as he took your head in his hand. "Yiu ok- Fuck" He moaned as he panted, his dick twitching in his fist.
You coughed slightly, before wiping your mouth and eyes looking up at him nodding.
"Good girl- Ah.. fuck- stick out your tongue" He groaned, as he watched you stick your tongue out staring up at him. His thrusts his hand roughly over his dick as he let out a deep groan as his body jerked as he came on your face, but mostly in your mouth.
You swallowed it all, before licking your lips and wiping some off your cheek and sucking your finger. You stood up looking up at him and smiling as he smiled softly at you, with a fucked out expression.
He leaned against the wall panting heavily as his hand was over his eyes. "Fuck- I can't even see straight" He laughed. You giggled, taking his wrist checking the time and seeing 1 minute.
You pulled your dress back on, zipping it up as you pulled Theo's phone from his jeans, fixing your makeup in the minimal light.
"You got me fucked up" He laughed, pulling up his boxers and jeans and buckling his belt before wiping his face over and ruffling his hair.
"Good, and I'd happily do it again" You smirked, flattening your hair out as the two of you now look widely presentatable.
Just in the moment you heard a mumble before light pours into the wardrobe as the door is ripped open. You squinted adjusting to the light, everyone looking at the pair of you.
"What! I wanted to catch them fucking or something" Mattheo scoffed.
"Boring, I would've been so down for that" Astoria groaned.
"We just spoke, there's nothing else to do" You shrugged, walking back to the group. Pansy's eyes like daggers on you and Theo as she scanned you both. You'd nearly gotten away with it until you turned towards Daphne who was sat next to her to reply and she saw the dark bite mark on your thigh just under your dress.
"Gotcha" She smirked to you and you looked at her clueless. You sat back down in your seat opposite Theo as the two of you smiled to one another.
You'd be doing this again sometime soon...
If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!
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osarina · 6 months
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ᡣ𐭩 OFFICE ESCAPADES
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: dazai decides to take advantage of everyone leaving the office for lunch to get some much needed time with you. you know it's a mistake, and that you're going to get caught, but you can't bring yourself to deny him—you never can. (wordcount: 1kish; nsfw)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: i was going to give you guys a long one shot today but i got cold feet unfortunately </3 maybe next week i'll have the balls to post it. for now, take a lil drabble i wrote
GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, public ??? not sex but it was getting heated
“They’ll all be back any minute,” you whisper, voice breathless as you feel Dazai’s lips drag down your neck, soft and wet as he sucks and nips at your skin. 
He only responds with a hum, and you know your words probably aren't even even registering through his head. You think that you should be more insistent—push him back and get off of his lap, because Kunikida will be livid if he comes back to the office to find the two of you in a compromising position, and Yosano and Ranpo will never let you hear the end of it. But it’s hard to focus with Dazai’s tongue tracing patterns on your neck, with his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds you down on his cock.
His touch is dizzying, fogging your mind of all common sense, and he’s been testing your limits all morning so really, how can you blame yourself for finally giving in to a little release?
It started with subtle brushes and lingering touches that set your skin aflame, then came the lidded stares as he watched you instead of doing his work, and finally, just before lunch break, when you went into the kitchen to grab some water, he followed you right in under the guise of grabbing a snack from one of the upper cabinets. He caged you against the counter and pressed his body against yours as he reached above you, the outline of his cock pressing into your ass for a few seconds too long before Kunikida started yelling for Dazai to hurry up. 
“It’s fine, bella,” he finally murmurs against your skin, acknowledging your words. “Relax.”
“It’s not-“ You try to say, but Dazai doesn’t even give you the chance to finish the sentence, lifting his head from your neck to capture your lips with his. 
And if his touches are dizzying, his kisses are addicting. Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his lips moving against yours, painfully slow but you feel like you can’t even breathe, tongue brushing along your lower lip to get you to part them for him. You think you could kiss him forever and never get enough of it. 
His hands slip beneath your shirt, warm palms sliding up and down your sides as if to try to calm you down.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, breath hot against your lips as his eyes trace yours, lidded and hazy. “Heaven-sent.”
“Osamu,” you protest, a bit flustered. Dazai is always poetic and flowery with his compliments but heaven-sent?
Dazai lets out a soft noise, you can’t tell if it’s a moan or a shaky breath as his hips jerk up enough to make your body shudder. God, this is so bad, you know it and you know he knows it even if he won't admit it. This needs to stop before anyone walks in but neither of you can drag yourself away from the other.
“It’s the truth,” he replies, reverence dripping from his tone as he stares up at you, dark eyes wide with an emotion so intense that it has your breath catching. “You’re divine, utterly angelic. You’re not meant to be with someone like me. I’ll ruin you.”
You can’t tell if it’s a warning, a threat or a promise—maybe a combination of all three. Your fingers trace his cheekbones as you cup his face, eyes searching his as you ask with a teasing smile, “What if I want you to?”
The reaction is instantaneous—Dazai’s eyes darken, pupils dilating as he stares up at you. His grip on your hips tightens just a bit. 
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Dazai rasps, his voice is a bit lower, a far cry from the loud dramatic tone he usually took—heat pools in your lower stomach as you let out a soft puff of air.
“I do,” you reply, leaning down to nip his jaw, relishing in the way he instinctively lets his head fall back, baring his throat for you. You kiss down to where his bandages peek out from under his shirt, before trailing back up to the spot behind his ear that makes him writhe, smiling against his skin when you hear the soft, pitched moan that spills from his lips. “I want you to ruin me, Osamu. In every possible way you can.” 
Dazai’s lips part to respond, but he doesn’t get the chance. The office doors slam open and Kunikida is shouting: “You two have no decency!”
You throw yourself off of Dazai’s lap, flustered and hot as you fix your shirt and make your way back over to your own desk, ignoring Yosano’s cat calls and Ranpo’s snickering.
Your fingers tremble as you log back into your computer, but it’s hard to concentrate when you can feel Dazai’s gaze on you even as Kunikida shouts at him. 
You peek over one last time—he’s resting his head on on his hand as he stares in your direction, gaze lidded and so intense that you can barely bring yourself to imagine the thoughts that might be running through his head. 
When he catches you looking, the corner of his lip quirks up into a smirk, and you think, balefully, that there’s no way you’re going to last another six hours of work with him looking at you like this.
And more importantly, there’s no way you’re going to survive the night with him now that he's being given six hours to come up with countless ways to ruin you. 
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cherrydbear · 2 months
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Since y'all seemed to like this I'll keep rambling on the subject, I can do this all day. Here are some of those examples where I think their friendship really shines through:
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From Sanji's perspective, this guy just showed up outside his restaurant one day, dueled the legendary swordsman who slashed Don Krieg's fleet to pieces, willingly got cut almost in two, nearly bled to death, was tied up by his own crew and then captured by the Arlong pirates, still singlehandedly escaped and came back to join the fight and defeated one of Arlong's best fighters, then nearly bled to death again and woke up just in time to drink himself silly at the afterparty. I've heard people say they "match each other's freak" and that's the truth. Sanji watches this absolute wackadoodle of a man and knows he's found someone who matches his freak. From Zoro's point of view, some cook at a floating restaurant just fed all of their enemies out of principle before kicking their butts. How could he not respect that sort of unconditional adherence to a sense of honor and justice? Especially considering he himself experienced starvation not too long ago in Shells Town. Now this cook, the newest stray in Luffy's collection, immediately proves himself to be immensely capable both in the kitchen and on the battlefield, incurs injury to himself without complaint to protect these people he barely knows, and still is the only person to come sit by Zoro and check up on him. So Zoro knows that Sanji has a heart of pure gold, and I think that's a big part of why he gets frustrated when Sanji tries to cover it up with bravado and perviness.
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This scene was really interesting to me because usually when someone demands that Zoro does something, he grouches and grumbles about it, so in this case it seems he just spontaneously started helping out himself. And if there was ever a man whose love language is acts of service, it's Roronoa Zoro. He seems to be more of a "companionable silence" kind of guy, while Sanji's a talker and will say anything to keep feeling connected. Now, I don't know if this is just a me thing, but I like to say my friends' names a lot, even just because the association with them brings me joy, but I rarely use the names of people I'm not close with except to refer to them in third person or to get their attention. In this scene, it seems to me that Sanji keeps repeating Zoro's name as a way to show he's thinking about him and appreciates him being there, though I might just be projecting.
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Now, I know shippers go crazy over this one, but I think it's honestly really solid platonic evidence and I'll tell you why (not to dissuade shipping, I think you have to be friends before you can be more than friends so all of this can be fuel for the ship too if you want it to be). Firstly, they're comfortable enough to sleep this close together. Sanji's resting his sleepy head right on Zoro's shoulder (it should have been me, not him) and Zoro just lets him. Also note real quick, only a short distance away Luffy is using Usopp as a pillow, so they're all a cuddly cozy little family. When Zoro notices Sanji mistakenly trying to kiss him, he doesn't even move away, he just makes a face and waits for Sanji to wake up so he can make fun of him. Sanji, for his part, doesn't act embarrassed or disgusted that it turned out to be Zoro there, only playfully mad about his expression. They squabble for a few moments before Luffy pushes past them and they turn their attention to the next thing, argument forgotten, proving that neither was actually angry about anything and they were merely enjoying the opportunity to bicker.
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This is from the hunting competition in Little Garden that I mentioned before. I just wanted to point out that both of them are grinning and clearly having a grand time.
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(I love how Sanji's hands are just massive sometimes.) They have the entire forest clearing, and Sanji chooses to sit his little booty down right next to Zoro and toss his food at him. They're just like those kids in elementary who had beef over who has a more impressive Pokémon collection and would always sit next to each other at lunch to compare cards and play together at recess but claim they're archnemeses. And for as much as Sanji implied to Usopp (though oblivious) that the heart shaped vegetables were just for the ladies, he did choose to make it and serve it to the whole crew. Speaking of the ladies, Sanji is always adamant about protecting them, but he was perfectly fine with leaving Nami and Robin in Zoro's care, just as Zoro trusted Sanji to take care of Luffy and Usopp.
I also loved how Sanji packed Zoro a cute little lunchbox for exploring and he was NOT going to let no stupid south bird take it from him.
Alright that's all for today folks I gotta wake up in like 5 hours for work lol
Continuation from this post
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loveinhawkins · 6 months
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”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.
The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—
Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.
He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.
But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.
I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.
Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.
“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”
“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.
If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.
Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?
“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”
Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.
Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.
“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”
Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.
He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.
“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.
The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”
His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.
I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…
Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.
“The shire, then,” Steve says.
Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”
“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”
And they do.
Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.
He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…
“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.
“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”
“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”
“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.
It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.
There’s no rush.
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