#so i guess this is how today's going to be

[mythicalmaven]

19 Lando fluff and smut please

Secret Desires - Lando Norris

Loved writing this! <3 If you guys want a part 2 where the whole ordeal continues (including Lando’s awkward encouter with Max) let me know!😂❤️

Masterlist ↳pairing: Lando Norris x female!verstappen!reader ↳word count: 4,6K ↳Summary: In which the reader is Max Verstappen's twin is Lando's friend & he accidentally confesses some things to her while he's drunk. The day after when he apologizes, it leads to something more. ↳content warnings: friends to lovers, reader is Max Verstappen's twin, lando is drunk and accidentally confesses something to the reader, suggestive content, flirting, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation (both f! & m!), praise kink, fluff, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), confessing feelings ↳prompts used: 19 - "Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you.. with my hand down my pants"

You sighed deeply, sinking back into the comfort of the guest bed in your older sister's house, the covers wrapping around you like a warm embrace. The room felt different compared to your Monaco apartment, but it was cozy, filled with the nostalgia of growing up with your family as you saw the pictures hanging on the wall. Pictures of your parents, of you and your twin brother Max, of you and Victoria & so on.

You traded your own bed for the guest bedroom at Victoria's house back home in the Netherlands for the week, to spend some time with your sister again to catch up. After a long night of chatting with Vic, you finally decided to call it a day, though sleep was far from your mind.

Just as you were about to close your eyes to at least give sleeping a try, your phone lit up on the nightstand, a soft buzz drawing your attention. You reached over lazily, expecting a random notification, but your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flashing on the screen: Lando

Your best friend, your partner in crime, and the guy you’d been secretly in love with for longer than you’d care to admit. The guy who made your heart race with a single smile and had you questioning your sanity every time you felt his touch linger just a little too long. Even though you refused to admit it to anyone with a passion. Stating that the way you felt about Lando was nothing more than two flirtatious friends. You knew you were lying to yourself and your facade was starting to crumble. And now he was texting you, at this hour?

Unlocking your phone, you were met with not one, but several messages from him. You squinted at the screen, reading the texts slowly as they loaded, your eyes widening more with each one.

Lando: Y/n… Lando: Fuhk.. why are you sooooo hotttt? 🥵 Lando: Do yhu have any idea howw many tiems I thout about you… with my hnd down my pantss Lando: *1 image attached* You felt your face heat up instantly, a wave of flustered shock washing over you. He send a photo that you had posted on your story on Instagram today, a photo of you in a cute bikini set at the pool at Vic's house.

What the hell? Lando was… Was he really saying what you thought he was saying? Your mind spun, trying to process the drunk, typo-riddled texts. You knew he must have had a few too many drinks tonight; he mentioned going out to a party with the grid earlier. But this?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as you tried to think of a response. A thousand emotions crashed through you at once—embarrassment, confusion, a thrill of excitement. You could barely breathe.

You: Lan, you're drunk as fuck. Go to sleep 😂

you typed back quickly, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself. You barely had time to process your own message before another one from Lando popped up.

Lando: Drunk on love 🤭

Your heart did a somersault in your chest, and you felt your cheeks burning even hotter. What was he doing? Your pulse thudded loudly in your ears as you stared at the screen, fingers frozen above the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a call.

Max’s name flashed on the screen.

You answered, bringing the phone to your ear. “Max, what the hell—”

“Sorry dat ik zo laat bel,” (sorry for calling at this time) Max's voice was low and slightly slurred with a laugh. “Maar ik zag dat je online was, dus dacht, jij bent nog wakker. Wilde je alleen even een seintje geven dat de kans vrij aannemelijk is dat je vannacht nog dronken appjes krijgt van Lando.” (But I saw that you were online, so I figured you were still awake. Just wanted to give you a heads up that it's very likely that you'll receive some drunk texts from Lando tonight)

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh of your own. Of course, your twin brother knew exactly what was happening. “De kerel is echt gewoon laveloos en hield zijn mond maar niet dicht over je. De hele rit terug naar zijn apartment bleef hij maar zeuren over hoe hij je moest appen over iets geheimzinnigs. Dacht ik waarschuw je even.” (The guy is absolutely hammered and he wouldn't shut up about you. Kept yapping about how he had to text you about something secretive. Thought it would be nice to warn you)

“Te laat, is al gebeurd” (too late, he already did) you replied with a chuckle, glancing back at Lando's messages. “Had al zo’n vermoeden dat hij dronken was haha.” (I already figured he was drunk)

“Dacht ik al,” (I thought so) Max chuckled. “Hou het een beetje netjes, ja? Ik wil hier niet meer van weten dan ik al doe.” (Please keep it decent, yeah? I don't want to know any more about this than I already do)

You could almost hear the grin in his voice. “Maar ik moest hem echt thuisbrengen, de jongen was niet meer te houden.” (But I just had to bring him home, couldn't keep him at bay anymore)

“Dank je, Max,” (Thanks, Max) you said softly, biting your lip. “Je bent een goede broer.” (You're a good brother)

“Altijd,” (Always) Max replied. “Ik moet wel weer ophangen nu, voordat ik Kelly en P wakker maak. Succes met je dronken vriendje.” (Gotta hang now tho, before I wake up Kelly and P. Good luck with your boyfriend)

“Max, hoe vaak moet ik nog zeggen dat Lando en ik gewoon vrienden zijn” (Max, how often do I have to tell you that Lando and I are just friends) you said, rolling your eyes.

"Als jij jezelf niet zo voor de gek hield, waren jullie al lang samen" (If you didn't keep lying to yourself, you two would have dated a long time already) and with a last chuckle, he hung up.

You flopped back onto your bed, your mind racing, Lando’s texts still staring at you from the screen. Your fingers shook as you picked up your phone again, reading his words over and over, your stomach flipping with nerves and something else, something hotter, more dangerous.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake it off. Lando was just drunk, you told yourself. He didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything… Right? But the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him thinking about you like that, the way your skin prickled with excitement at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way…

You forced yourself to put the phone down, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the wild thoughts racing through your mind. It was late, and you needed to sleep. But as you drifted off, your dreams were anything but peaceful. Lando's words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself imagining all the things he might have done while thinking about you, the way he might have said your name, the way his hands might have—

You woke up, flustered and breathless, your body tingling in a way that was all too familiar. The morning sun was peeking through the curtains, but all you could think about was Lando, and the way his words made you feel things you’d tried so hard to ignore.

Around the same time, somewhere in Monaco, Lando jolts awake.

"Fuck" the single word comes out as a hiss, his head pounding from the hangover. His phone screen glares back at him, a series of messages and a notification from Max catching his blurry gaze. He squints, his heart starting to race as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back.

He fumbles to unlock his phone, praying he didn’t do what he thinks he did. But the evidence is right there, the bold lettering of your name above the most mortifying message he could ever have sent, full of typos, but easily desiphered as 'Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you… with my hand down my pants?'

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his messy curls, anxiety flooding his system. What the fuck had he done? His fingers move of their own accord, tapping out a frantic apology.

Lando: Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.

You: Good morning to you too. How is your headache? 😉

He cringes at the situation, a mix of playful and mocking. His mind races, grasping at straws to somehow make this situation less embarrassing.

Lando: I don’t even remember sending that. I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I didn’t mean it.

A lie. He did mean it. But he’s not ready to admit that just yet.

You: Oh, you definitely weren’t thinking, lol. But hey, maybe you should apologize to Max too, since you apparently spilled some beans about me to him. 😆

Lando’s eyes widen, horror painting his features. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. He types back, heart racing.

Lando: What did I say? Please tell me I didn’t—

You: Relax, nothing too scandalous. Just enough for Max to find it disgusting.

Despite himself, a small laugh escapes his lips. He can picture Max’s reaction, the exaggerated gagging, the inevitable jokes he’ll have to endure.

Lando: I’m so sorry. Are you mad at me? I don’t want you to think I’m some idiot who can’t control himself.

You: Nah, I’m not mad. You were drunk, it’s not like you meant it anyway, right?

He swallows hard, your words hitting too close to home. A dry response forms on his screen.

Lando: Yeah, sure.

But deep down, he knows it’s not true. He’d thought about you like that more times than he cared to admit, a dangerous longing simmering beneath the surface of your friendship.

You: Hey, at least now I know I looked hot in yesterday’s bikini post.

Heat floods his cheeks. You’re playing it off, but there’s a hint of something in your words, a subtle curiosity. He swallows, fingers hovering over the keyboard before he types back, heart pounding.

Lando: Stating the obvious.

He can’t help the grin tugging at his lips as he imagines your reaction. It’s risky, but you don’t seem upset, and he’s willing to test the waters.

You: Oh? So you think I’m hot?

Lando: Didn’t know that was up for debate.

He’s toeing the line, the thrill of it sending a spark through him.

Lando: U really not mad? I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.

You: Mad? Nah. Flattered, maybe.

He blinks at your response, surprise mingling with a rush of arousal. Flattered? His mind reels, thoughts scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say next.

You: I have to admit tho, when I first got that message, I thought you’d sent something different than my own instagram post…🤭

His breath catches, heart skipping a beat. The implication is clear, and he feels himself growing hard at the mere thought of you expecting a more explicit photo from him. He shifts uncomfortably, typing out a teasing response.

Lando: So, you’re saying you opened it anyway, even though you thought I sent you a spicy picture? 😉

You: Shut up.

He laughs, imagining the flustered look on your face. It’s too easy to picture, and he leans back against his pillows, biting his lip.

Lando: Where are you?

You: In bed. Why?

Lando's breath got caught in his throat. A dangerous idea takes root in his mind, one that’s equally thrilling and terrifying. He knows he should stop, should draw the line before it goes too far. But something in your responses, the playful edge, the hint of curiosity, makes him want to push further.

Lando: Just curious. 😉

His mind races, and before he can second-guess himself, he snaps a quick photo. It’s not much,—just him lying back on his bed, shirt unbuttoned halfway, his abs on display and his hair a mess. He was still wearing the same outfit as yesterday, apparently not changed out of it. But there’s something undeniably suggestive in the way he looks at the camera, the flush on his cheeks, a knowing smile on his lips as he sends it with a caption.

Lando: I can send you one for real if you want to see one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he waits for your response, the seconds dragging by agonizingly slowly. Then your reply comes in, teasing and playful.

You: Kinda daring coming from the guy who was apologizing 10 minutes ago for accidentally sending his best friend a text about thinking about her with his hand down his pants😉

Your words send a thrill through him, the boldness of it, the way you’re not backing down. He can’t resist pushing a little further, fingers trembling with anticipation.

Lando: You didn’t seem too disgusted by it.

The moment stretches out, his breath catching as he waits for your reply. The tightness in his dress pants becoming significantly worde.

When it comes, it’s more than he expected. 

You: I wasn’t. Actually, it was kinda hot.🫣

His eyes widen, arousal spiking as he reads your words again and again, disbelieving. Is this really happening? 

Lando: Yeah?

You: Yeah.

He swallows hard, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He glances down at the growing bulge in his pants, his arousal straining against the fabric. His hand moves almost on its own, snapping a quick picture of his hand palming himself through his dress pants, the outline of his erection unmistakable.

Lando: What about this? Still hot?

Your response is almost immediate.

You: Fuck, yes.

The words send a shiver down his spine, desire flaring as he imagines your reaction, the way you must be looking at your phone. He wants more, needs more.

Lando: Your turn.

There’s a pause, then a photo comes through. His breath hitches at the sight of you, flushed and flustered, the soft curve of your cleavage visible just above the red lace of your bra. It wasn't too naughty, but enough to send Lando reeling. 

He groans, his hand moving down to rub himself through his pants, a low moan escaping him as he imagines what’s beneath that thin fabric.

Lando: Fuck, babe, you’re killing me.

You: Good.

The playfulness in your response only fuels his desire, and he knows he should stop, should take a breath before this spirals out of control. But he doesn’t want to. Instead, he hits record on his camera, aiming it down at his crotch as he begins to palm himself through the fabric.

The video is short, just a few seconds of him rubbing himself, a low groan slipping from his lips. He ends it with a whispered “fuck,” his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his pants to give himself a teasing stroke before the video cuts off.

He sends it without thinking, heart racing as he imagines you watching it, the way your breath might hitch, the way you might bite your lip.

You: You’re really enjoying that, huh?

His breath hitched at your words, every sensation heightened as he slowly works himself up and down inside his dress pants, unable to contain the soft groans leaving his lips.

Lando: I do. Feels amazing... I wish you were here with me.

His hand is shaking now as he types out his next message, his arousal growing with every word.

Lando: Show me more.

There’s a beat of silence, and then another picture comes through. This one is more daring, more revealing. You’re under the blankets, one leg exposed, the other hidden beneath the covers. The waistband of your red panties is just visible above the edge of your blanket, your hand resting suggestively on your lower stomach, fingers reaching just into your panties.

Lando: Fuck, babe, that's so hot

Lando's breath catches as he stares at the photo you sent, his mind racing with all the things he wants to say, all the things he wants to do. He decided to take the leap and press the button to send you a facetime request. You accept it almost immediately, his heart pounding as your face fills the screen. You look flustered, lips slightly parted, and he swallows hard.

“Hi,” you say, your voice breathless, almost shy.

“You’re really fucking beautiful, you know that?” Lando murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he admired your flushed face.

You blush, your eyes darting away from the screen for a moment before you look back at him. “I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed right now, not me.”

He grins, the playful tone of your voice sending another jolt of arousal through him. “Oh, trust me, I’m plenty embarrassed. But I’m also…” He hesitates, his gaze dropping down for a moment before he meets your eyes again, his voice dropping to a lower, huskier tone. “... really turned on.”

Your breath catches, and he watches as you shift on the bed, the movement causing the camera to reveal a little bit more of your cleavage and the red lace bra you were wearing. His eyes are drawn to the exposed skin, mesmerized by your body.

“What are you wearing?” The question slips out before he can stop it, his eyes dark with desire.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Not much.”

He groans, his hand tightening around his phone. As he speaks, his other hand drifts back down, brushing over the ever-growing bulge in his pants again. “Can I see?” The words are thick with anticipation, his voice trembling slightly as he palms himself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through him. He bites his lip, letting out a quiet moan that he can’t quite suppress.

You hesitate, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you consider his request. Then, slowly, you change your camera angle and pull the blanket down just a little, revealing the soft skin of your stomach, the red lace of your panties, the soft curve of your thigh. Lando feels a jolt of arousal shooting through him, and he has to bite back a groan. It’s just enough to tease, to make him want more. 

“Fuck, Y/N…” His voice is rough, strained, as he shifts on the bed, the fabric of his pants suddenly feeling too tight, too restrictive. His hand presses harder against his length, his breath hitching as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through him.

You giggle, your eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. “You like what you see?”

“Like?” He shakes his head, his eyes glued to the screen. “I fucking love it.”

Your cheeks flush a deeper red, and you lean back a little, giving him an even better view of your body. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the sight of you, the way the red lace clings to your skin, the hint of cleavage peeking out from beneath your bra. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with each breath, the anticipation, the arousal clear in your eyes.

“Your turn,” you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to send his heart racing.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still holding his phone, he shifts back on the bed, his other hand moving to the waistband of his pants. His fingers fumble with the button, his hands shaking slightly as he pops it open, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath hitches as he unzips his pants, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers. He pauses for a moment, his eyes flicking up to yours, seeking permission. When you nod, he slides his hand into his boxers, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale as he wraps his fingers around his length.

“Fuck…” The word slips out as he strokes himself slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he forces them open again, needing to see your reaction. His voice trembles, laced with a mix of desire and restraint, each moan escaping his lips growing louder as he quickens his pace.

Your eyes are wide, your lips slightly parted as you watch him, your hand moving down towards your panties on their own accord, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric “Fuck, that's hot, Lando…”

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his boxers now pushed low enough to reveal his cock, hand moving faster, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. “Touch yourself for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

You bite your lip, waiting just a moment before you slip your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escaping you as your fingers make contact. The sight of you, the way your body arches slightly, the soft, breathless sounds you make, is almost too much for him.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so fucking hot…” His voice is barely more than a growl as he watches you, his own hand moving faster, the pleasure building inside him, threatening to spill over.

“What would you do to me if I was right there?” you ask, your voice a breathless whisper.

His eyes darken, his grip tightening around himself. “I’d start by kissing you, slowly… working my way down your body.” His voice is rough, each word laced with longing. “I’d touch you everywhere, make you feel so good. Then I’d…” his words getting cut off by his own moan.

“Tell me,” you encourage, your own voice trembling with need.

“I’d bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name,” he groans, his strokes becoming more erratic as he imagines it, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “F-Fuck, I want you so bad.”

You moan at his words, your fingers moving faster as you picture it, your body aching for his touch. “Lando, I…”

“Keep going,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

“I’d touch you,” you breathe, your voice trembling as your fingers move in sync with his. “I’d wrap my fingers around you, just like you’re doing now… make you feel so good, Lan”

He whimpers at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he imagines it, the sensation of your touch almost too real. “Fuck, Y/N, I need you…”

“Imagine it’s my hand, Lan” you whisper, your voice laced with seduction. “Imagine I’m right there with you…”

His moans grow louder, his hips bucking into his hand as he follows your words, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of you. “I’m so close…”

“Me too,” you whisper, your breath hitching as you feel the pleasure building, your body trembling with anticipation.

“God, you’re amazing,” he pants, his voice filled with praise as he watches you, every movement driving him closer to the edge. “You’re so perfect… I want you so bad…”

Your voice is a breathless moan as you reach the brink, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure consumes you "F-Fuck, Lan, I'm coming"

“Fuck, baby, I’m right there with you…” His voice is ragged, his body tensing as he teeters on the edge, every muscle tightening in anticipation. You watch, breathless, as his hand moves faster, more desperately, his grip tightening around his length.

Then, with a strangled moan, he tips over the edge. His hips jerk, and his head falls back against the pillows as he cums, thick ropes of it spilling out and covering his abdomen. You can see the way his abs contract with each pulse, his hand still working himself through every last wave of pleasure, milking himself until he’s spent. His eyes remain locked on yours, his breathing heavy, a mixture of satisfaction and lingering desire in his gaze as you both ride the waves of your shared climax.

For a few moments, the only sound is your ragged breathing, both of you staring at each other through the screen, the intensity of what just happened hanging heavy in the air.

“Fuck…” He laughs breathlessly, his head falling back against the pillows as he runs a hand through his hair. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finish for him, your own laughter bubbling up, your cheeks still flushed, your body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks. “Holy shit, Lando…”

“Yeah.” He grins, his heart still racing as he looks at you, the reality of what you just did slowly sinking in. “Are you… okay?”

You nod, your smile softening as you look at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. More than okay.”

His heart swells at your words, relief flooding through him. He’s about to say something else when you shift on the bed, the blanket slipping down a little further, giving him a glimpse of your bare shoulder.

“Lando,” you murmur, your eyes meeting his through the screen, a mischievous glint in your gaze. “If that was just a taste, I can’t wait to see what happens when we’re see each other again.”

The promise in your words sends a shiver down his spine, his mind racing at the thought of having you, really having you, right in front of him. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you’re doing to me…” His voice is a low whisper, his eyes still dark with desire.

“Maybe I have an idea,” you tease, your smile widening as you settle back against the pillows, your gaze never leaving his. “When I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe you should pick me up from the airport... and then we can do this again, but then in real life”

His heart skips a beat at your words, excitement and anticipation flooding through him. “You mean that?”

You nod, your smile softening, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his chest ache. “Yeah, I mean that. I want you, Lando. All of you.”

His breath catches, the sincerity in your voice, the way you’re looking at him, making his heart race. He knows, in that moment, that this isn’t just about sex, about fulfilling a desire that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years. It’s about more, so much more.

“Y/N… there’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, his voice steady but laced with emotion.

Your gaze softens, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What is it, Lando?”

He hesitates for just a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. It’s not just about my text last night or about what we just did. I've been feeling like this for a while. It’s everything. Every time we’ve laughed together, every time you’ve supported me, every time I’ve seen you smile... I’ve been falling for you more and more.”

You feel your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. Finally ready to admit it out loud. “Lando... I’ve felt the same way. I’ve just been too scared to admit it.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief washing over him. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve wanted to say something for so long, but I was afraid I’d ruin what we have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” you say softly. “If anything, you’ve made it better.”

A wide smile spreads across his face, his eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve never been so thankful for getting drunk.”

You laugh, the sound light and filled with joy. “Me neither, Lando. Me neither.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, both of you just taking in the reality of what’s been confessed.

“So… when I fly back to Monaco in a few days, maybe we could start something real?” you suggest, your voice hopeful.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s a plan,” you say, a smile tugging at your lips.

"God, I wish I could kiss you now" he whispered, a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

And with that, you both know that this is just the beginning of something truly special, something that’s been waiting to happen for far too long.

Masterlist

[moonlight-canavalia]

Sentimentality

It’s been a while since I’ve written and posted anything so here it is. I swear Sylus has not left my mind since I started playing.

Anyways here’s a little Sylus reassurance when you’re having doubts!

Warning: kisses, light teasing, uh implied cunnilingus that’s about to start at the end

If you prefer AO3 here!

Divider by cafekitsune

There had been a somewhat heavy feeling in your chest that you’ve been ignoring. You’re not sure where that weight is coming from or better yet— that insecurity . Does he really want you for the long run? It seems like it, and though mischievous with his words, he is very forward with his words and action. 

“Sylus, if something happened to me, what would you do?” You ask sprawled out on his bed while he’s getting ready for his meeting. In your mind it sounded like a simple enough question. Honest curiosity laces your tone. His hands suddenly stop, shirt only halfway done. Sylus’s face scrunches up in disgust at the thought of it. Before turning to face you, he makes sure to relax his facial features. “Are you planning to go away, kitten? Any mission worrying you?” disguising his worry in an almost casual tone “want me to tag along? You know I’ll go with you. Just ask, sweetie.”You're still looking up at the ceiling. Arms resting by your side lost in thought. “Hhhmm, just asking. I guess.”Sylus has moved to the foot of the bed, grabbing you by your ankles – pulling you towards him. Surprised by his actions you let out a startled yelp. He’s not sure what’s going on through your head, and he’s not sure how to ask you. While he might be brass, always getting straight to the point there’s something a little off about you today. Your smile isn’t quite reaching your eyes, not as talkative, lost in your own little world. So, he wants to make sure you truly understand and believe his words over all else. 

Dropping your legs at the edge of the bed so he’s able to stand between them he slowly bends down. Caging your body under his to stop you from getting away. His piercing gaze unsettles you for a second, leaving you frozen in place. In a flash his crimson eyes soften, filling with such a warmth that makes you feel like a soothing balm has been poured over the cracks in your heart. “I’d set the entire world on fire and spend the rest of eternity searching for any trace of you in those ashes.”  — He speaks in earnest, deep voice sounding hoarse. Words spoken slowly and low, as if he’s telling the secrets of the universe.  Secrets meant to be kept between you and the four walls of this room. Cupping your cheek with one hand while shifting his body weight on the other to not lose eye contact with you; he adds “Nothing, no one will ever take you away from me. Not the heavens or me getting lost in the nine circles of hell can rip me away from you. I will always search for you and I will always find you.”Lost for words all you manage out is a shaky breath. all as a response. If there’s one thing Sylus is, it is honest. This is something you know, but the profoundness of his words stun you. You feel like your brain is malfunctioning, not being able to come up with words. Eyes wide and watery, you can hear the rush of your blood in your ears. Your heart beats wildly like a trapped bird wanting to escape its enclosure.“I don’t enjoy these questions, sweetie. Especially coming from your pretty mouth” Placing both of his hands on either side of your head, he gently leans in for a kiss, the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over your lips. Giving you a quick peck, then you feel his lips brushing the shell of your ear “You’re mine and you’re not going anywhere”.Wrapping your arms around his neck you gently tug him towards you, so more of his body weight is on you. Just wanting to feel him close, enjoying the warmth of his body on yours.  There are many things you’d like to say, numerous emotions and feelings you’d like to voice. But it all gets tied at the back of your throat. With a lack of words to summarize it all a simple “thank you” escapes your trembling lips. 

Those words mean a lot to Sylus, it’s something he rarely hears. And with the way it fell from your mouth so willingly, no ulterior motives behind it only raw emotions dripping in sincerity; now leaves him lost for words. He hopes you know how much he adores you, how much you mean to him, how you’re the best thing to come into his life. How he’ll always defy fate and search for you. When the time comes he’ll sit you down and recount your past together. Not now though. For now he’ll just enjoy having you with him once again . 

Resting his forehead against yours for a few seconds he decides on staying in tonight. The meeting can be rescheduled, anything can wait when it comes to you. “Let’s just stay here tonight, Sweetie” he murmurs.

“I wasn’t aware I was even invited to accompany you in the first place.” you retort. A small chuckle rumbles in his chest. A sound you can’t get enough of. 

“You would think at this point in time you don’t need an invitation. You’re always free to come with me if you desire” Sylus says, like it should be the most obvious thing to you. 

Rolling your eyes playfully at him you quip “Well personally I prefer to be told that you’d like me there.”  

“I always want you with me. Are you not aware of that?” the silver haired male asks, looking quizzically at you. “Oh.” “Yeah, oh, sweetheart.” he taunted, with the corner of his lips upturning in that dangerous smirk of his. “You’d be wise to remember that in the foreseeable future.”Intertwining his fingers with yours, he pins your hand over your head. Softly he squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. A tender reminder, that both of you are here, together right now. In your mind, you know you both are tied together. There’s a pull that can’t be destroyed between the two of you, you can't make sense of it. It feels like you both have known eachother for lifetimes. Little did you know that's exactly what's happening.  Sylus has crossed galaxies, timelines, time and time again to find you. The bending of time or the fact that he's destined to lose you and find you again again is nothing. You are his love, the person his heart belongs to, he'll turn himself into a monster if it means seeing you once again.  Rising from on top of you he kneels on the floor. Once again snaking his big arms around the back of your knees and pulling your core towards his mouth. This is where I belong. Beneath you, you can do anything to me and I’d be grateful, you can command me to do anything and I’ll do it without a second thought. Ask and you shall receive.” He says while kissing your thighs.

[reshinless]

──── found myself dreaming (of you)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. when he can't get enough of you (eating you out ++ hitting it from behind :3)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich, neuvillette x fem!reader (or gn!afab!reader, separately)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. dunno, i kinda flopped today

"a- ahh- wait, baby wait." he ingests saliva down his throat, neuvillette looked almost as if he was begging you. yet his gloved hands held your thighs down.

his fingers grasped your palms harshly, yet his gaze said otherwise; a gentle stare that seemed to ask you something. the horns on his head grew by the second- guess that happens each time he gets turned on.

he loved watching how your eyebrows knitted, loved watching how you pushed his face while holding onto his horns into your sloppy little entrance. or the way you threw your head back in pleasure— oh please let him taste more!

he promised it'd only be for a bit. he thought what he did was preparing you for his cock- but it's been well over 2 hours, and he's still lapping every drop of your essence up, his finger over your clit— "massaging it" he said, when he was well aware how good it made you feel.

"n-neuvi.. c'mon.. it's been enough already.." you almost had to push him off, his mouth getting detached made a plop sound.

neuvillette who already missed the way you tasted. he already had your ass up in the air for him, and face smothered into the comfort of the soft mattress.

he had one of his hands pinning both of your hands to the wooden board at the head of the bed- causing a red mark to appear on both your wrists. he couldn't help the strength he puts into his own hands. lowering his tip to brush against your folds, watching how you already were so wet for him; his other hand inserting a pair of two fingers into them briefly before watching how good his dick slips inside.

you'd moan out his name so beautifully, fuck he could do this for days on end if he'd always get to hear this kind of melody.

damn you're so warm, he couldn't help ramming into you the way he did right now. "mmm.. f- feels as good as it tastes sweetheart.."— such a lively speed he went at, your hands faltered a little. your hips bruised with marks of his palm, on being on his waist, and the other still holding your hands to the headboard.

his pent-up feelings, awwhh fuck he could definitely let it all out here- the way his dicked kissed the deepest of the deep in your body, and the way he held you with a hint of softness.

the snowy-unsullied haired man leaned down near your ear- briefly kissing the shell of your ear, slowly scattering a plenitude of pecks down your collarbone. landing in the crook of your neck, he slowly started to bite into it; not enough to bleed- but enough to mark in a spot where others could see.

kinich who couldn't get enough of your aroma. who couldn't get to stop himself from swishing his tongue against your slick, working his fingers into the hole below, as his tongue worked into your clit. rubbing against it effectively.

the sounds of his moans vibrated against your cunt felt surreal, using his own spit to work his tongue faster against your entrance. watching the way you'd shut your eyes with the luxury of pleasure.

hungrily eating, and licking your hole, switching around places with his fingers every now and then. he knew you were stressed from work anyway. if he's been with you this long, he could eat you out for even longer.

you could feel him fly a sleazy grin against your pussy, you started to clench against his fingers— he knew you were close. "you close, pretty?" you nodded hurriedly, "ffuck- mmm— yes, yeah i am-" you moaned, your thighs starting to quiver, each time you felt his fingers curl inside you, curving well into your special spot.

he leans upward, and a little forward to leave kisses all over your stomach again. trailing back up to your lips, making out with you messily, his fingers only going even more so at an even further hurried pace. "you better be." he snarls with a mocking tone, smiling as you both continue to kiss each other excessively.

you could feel it building up already. his pace only getting faster, matching the speed of your breath, as he pulled away from another peck. your back started to arch from the way his fingers curled just right into your g-spot.

"a-ahhn i'm cumming! oh ffuck.. kinich!" you screamed, creaming onto his hand directly, as his arm rung around your waist to pull you close, snd keep you in place

[kayewrite]

At the same time, I wanna hug you

(...I wanna wrap my hands around your neck)

seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count: 10.7k (long but still not enough)

summary; if you have teleportation powers you would bring seungmin in the middle of ocean and dump him there. that's how much you hated him. but wait.. why he was suddenly cool?

an: you dont know how much i went crazy seeing seungmin in uniform! like babe! why are my classmate not like him? and.. this was a birthday present cause this man just turn half 50 minus 1!! anyways enjoy reading

Kim Seungmin.

You hated that very name.

You hated his existence.

You hated his smirk.

You hated that he breathes.

You hated how he never failed to make your blood boil.

Like now.

You were practically crawling into the classroom, late again, knowing full well the teacher wasn’t going to let it slide this time. Slowly and quietly, you slipped through the back door, hoping to go unnoticed, but your hopes were dashed when Kim Seungmin turned in his seat and caught your eye. His face slowly morphed into that all-too-familiar smirk.

You already knew your fate.

"Ma'am, someone’s late again."

You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to punch him as the teacher ordered you to stand and endure a scolding. You stood there, bowing your head like a guilty child while Seungmin chuckled at your misery.

You hated him. You hated him so much you wished for teleportation powers—just so you could dump him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and teleport back home.

The worst part? You were seatmates. In the one subject that made you contemplate dropping the class every week just to escape him. But no, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You’d endure, just so he wouldn’t win.

"Why were you late again?" he leaned over, asking in the most casual, condescending way possible.

“None of your business,” you rolled your eyes and shifted your chair further away from him.

“Actually, it is my business.” He smirked again, lifting the attendance sheet. “I’m in charge of marking who’s here today, and guess what? I don’t see your name yet. Got a good excuse for me?”

Damn.

You glared at him, wishing your stare could send him straight to the hospital. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I love you too,” he teased, laughing at your frustration.

--

You were minding your own business, erasing the board, when out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit you square on the head. Annoyed, you turned sharply, searching for the culprit. Your eyes quickly landed on Kim Seungmin, who very obviously averted his gaze and started whistling—like that wasn’t the biggest giveaway ever.

Glaring at him, you felt your temper rise. Without thinking twice, you grabbed the nearest weapon of choice—the chalkboard eraser—and hurled it with full force.

"Hey—!" Seungmin barely had time to react, his hands flying up to shield himself. The eraser still hit him, sending a cloud of chalk dust everywhere.

Minutes later, there he was, sitting in the clinic, sulking like he’d been gravely injured. You stood over him, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous situation.

“You’re such a kid,” you teased, watching as he winced dramatically. “Crying over a tiny little scratch.”

He glared at you, clutching his arm like he’d survived a battle. “Tiny? You nearly broke my arm!”

You smirked, “If I wanted to break your arm, Seungmin, I wouldn’t have used an eraser.”

You and Seungmin fought like kids, constantly bickering and annoying each other to the point where even your classmates didn’t bother stepping in anymore. They’d seen you two nearly throw punches at each other too many times to care.

One day in the cafeteria, you were finally enjoying a moment of peace, savoring your lunch, when Seungmin suddenly plopped down in front of you. He smiled, but there was something odd about it. Well, Seungmin was always odd, but this felt extra weird. He wasn’t even touching his food; he just sat there, staring at you.

"What are you looking at, ugly?" you asked, scowling.

He leaned back casually. "My friends are coming, and we're sitting at this table. It’s up to you if you wanna leave or not."

You blinked, taken aback. "What?! I got here first!"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I don’t care."

Before you could argue further, the cafeteria exploded with noise. His friends had arrived—there was no mistaking it. They were loud, famous, and had an almost cult-like following at school. You could practically hear the high-pitched squeals from the “fandom” as they entered. Without even turning around, you knew it was them.

Your frustration mounted as they surrounded the table, chattering loudly. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, for that matter. Sitting there, sandwiched between Seungmin and his friends, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.

Hyunjin—yes, that Hyunjin—suddenly leaned over, flashing a bright smile. "Hey, what’s your name?"

You nearly choked on your food. Of course, the universe had to pick this moment to be cruel. Before you could respond, Seungmin cut in with a smug grin.

"She’s no one. Don’t mind her," he said, not even sparing you a glance.

Your face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair. "I’ve suddenly lost my appetite," you muttered awkwardly before storming off, desperately trying to escape the humiliation.

Why does this always happen to me? you groaned internally. I hate Seungmin. And I hate myself for embarrassing myself in front of my crush… Hyunjin.

If I see that KIM SEUNGMIN later, I’m going to kill him.

Later in class, your chance for revenge came. Seungmin was called on for an oral recitation, and—poetic justice—he stood there, stuttering and completely clueless. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as he floundered, finally getting a taste of the embarrassment he loved dishing out.

Justice had never tasted so sweet.

---

"I hope lightning strikes him," you muttered, glaring at Seungmin from a distance as you hugged yourself, shivering from the cold. You were stuck in a waiting shed, the afternoon bringing with it a torrential downpour that looked like the start of a typhoon. The weather had been perfect this morning—sunny, with not a cloud in sight. You'd made the mistake of leaving your umbrella at home, thinking it would only weigh down your bag. Now, you regretted every bit of that decision.

Across the street, Seungmin stood dry under his big, obnoxiously bright umbrella, almost laughing as he caught sight of you. His smug grin was practically glowing, and as if to rub salt in the wound, he waved at you.

You flipped him the finger.

‘When will his time come?’ you wondered bitterly. Why am I always the one who ends up miserable?

The shed's roof was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain out. Water dripped from all angles, splashing around you and soaking your clothes. You glanced up at the leaky ceiling and groaned. When will this stop? you thought—both about the rain and Seungmin.

If the two of you were friends, and if he weren’t the spawn of Lucifer himself, you might’ve swallowed your pride and asked to share his umbrella. Your house was literally just a block away. But no! You would not—under any circumstances—lower yourself to envy his dry, smug self.

You would never give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant sitting here the whole night, soaked and miserable.

Seungmin started walking toward you, his big umbrella swaying with each step. He stopped in front of you with the most annoyingly sarcastic smile.

"You wanna share?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes. "No thanks."

"You sure? The news said the rain’s stopping… tomorrow."

"Even if it never stops for a whole week, Kim Seungmin, I would never!" you snapped, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your misery. "You sure? Last chance."

"Yes!" you practically shouted, arms crossed in defiance.

"Okay." He shrugged, stepping back. "One word is enough for me."

And with that, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving you alone in the rain.

"I won’t regret it!" you yelled after him, though your voice sounded far less confident than before.

Ten minutes later, you were drenched and shivering, cursing under your breath. Regret started to creep in. You glanced down the road—completely empty. Not a single taxi in sight.

"Where are all the taxis when I need them?" you groaned, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.

And so, your day ended just as it began: with Seungmin somehow managing to ruin it.

--

It was Friday, and your first class of the day happened to be the one where your seatmate was none other than him.

Determined not to be late, you arrived twenty minutes early. The classroom was nearly empty, with only a handful of students scattered around. Feeling groggy, you slumped over your desk, letting the quiet atmosphere lull you into a light nap.

Of course, peace never lasted long when Seungmin was involved.

A sharp knock on your desk pulled you from the brink of sleep. You cracked one eye open to see Seungmin settling into the seat beside you, a smug grin already plastered on his face.

"Oh, you’re early today. Were you looking forward to sitting next to me?" he teased, leaning back comfortably as if he hadn't just ruined your peaceful moment.

"It’s still early, Kim Seungmin," you muttered, closing your eyes again. Not today, you thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin your morning. Not this early.

He glanced at his watch with a chuckle. "Well, it’s 10 a.m., and that’s not exactly early, is it?"

"Seungmin, if you’re bored and looking to annoy someone, talk to my hand." Without even opening your eyes, you lazily raised your hand in his direction, palm out.

Just then, Yuna, who sat in front of you, arrived. She took one look at the two of you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Why are you guys always fighting the moment you see each other?"

You opened one eye, giving her a pleading look. "Can you please let him annoy you instead?"

Yuna just laughed. "Oh, Seungmin wouldn’t annoy anyone else but you." She gave you a knowing smile. "He likes you."

Your eyes shot open at her words, and you squinted at Seungmin, who was now smirking as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. "Yeah, likes to annoy me," you huffed, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

Seungmin shrugged, leaning in a little closer just to provoke you. "Well, yeah, I like it sooo much," he laughed, clearly amused by your reaction.

Yuna, now used to your bickering, just shrugged and turned her attention to the front of the classroom, leaving you to deal with him.

You let out a sigh, hoping that Seungmin would leave you alone for at least a minute. "Is there any chance you’ll be quiet today?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm, nope."

You groaned, dropping your head back onto your desk. "Why do you even sit next to me?"

"Fate," he said casually, glancing over as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

You shot him a disbelieving look. "What?"

"It’s fate," he repeated with a smirk. "Out of all the seats in this entire classroom, I ended up next to you. Don’t you think that means something?"

"Yeah, it means I’m cursed."

He laughed, the sound annoyingly cheerful, and leaned in closer. "Maybe, or maybe you’re just lucky to have me next to you."

"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use."

Before he could respond, the classroom started filling up, and the teacher finally arrived. You sent a silent prayer of thanks, hoping class would be a break from Seungmin’s endless teasing.

“…you will do this assignment by pairs. To speed things up, partner with your seatmate.”

It was nothing new to be stuck with your enemy, but when you realized that the activity involved a short roleplay drama, you felt a surge of panic. Acting alongside him was nowhere on your bucket list of things to do—if you even had a bucket list.

“Maam, can I exchange my partner?” you raised your hand, desperation evident in your voice.

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Seungmin clutched his chest dramatically, feigning offense.

“What’s wrong with your partner?” the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sometimes you wondered why everyone seemed to love this annoying dog sitting next to you.

With no choice left, you begrudgingly held the script with a scowl. When would you ever have a peaceful day in class? Why did you have to pretend to be in love with this guy?

“Come on, read your line!” Seungmin demanded, his annoyance bubbling over.

Of all the choices in your teacher's fishbowl, you’d drawn the romantic scene everyone praying not to get. You would have preferred a horror script over this.

“I don’t want to!” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Well, you have to! It’s your fault for picking it!” he shot back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“I told you to pick it!” you replied, frustration mounting.

“And then I’d be the one to blame? We don’t have a choice but to do well.” He leaned back, crossing his arms smugly.

“Ugh! I hate you so much!” you exclaimed, slumping back in your seat.

“Well, you have to love me now.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying your misery.

“What did I do in my past life to deserve this?” You groaned, reading the lines again.

“Probably killed someone,” he quipped, shooting you a knowing look.

You glared at him, and he immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing.

“Oh, apologies. Let’s practice! You don’t have a choice; it’s either fail or just accept it.”

“I hate you.”

“I accept it, Juliet.” He grinned, clearly relishing your frustration.

Thankfully, the teacher had given you a week to prepare, which meant you never took practicing seriously after that.

“We’ll practice tomorrow,” Seungmin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I have something to do tomorrow,” you said nonchalantly, hoping to deter him.

“I have things too, but I want good grades, so you have to come.” He started packing his things away.

“Hey, Seungmin!” You both turned at the sound of his friend’s voice. It was Hyunjin, accompanied by Felix and Jisung. You straightened up, suddenly conscious of your appearance.

“Let’s go somewhere!” Jisung draped an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.

“I have important things to do,” Seungmin replied, and Jisung pouted in response.

“Oh, it was you in the cafeteria the other day,” Hyunjin said, looking right at you. It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.

“Um…” Your voice faltered. “Yes?”

Hyunjin smiled at you, and you felt your heart race.

“Guys, wait for me outside. You just sneaked into my classroom,” Seungmin laughed, and his friends complied, heading for the door.

You were still catching your breath from the interaction when Seungmin turned back, grinning at you. “So, Hyunjin is your crush?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Oh no! Seungmin had caught on!

“Of course, I’m not!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Why are you saying ‘I’m not’ in such an awkward way?” He laughed, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Then it is true!”

“Please don’t tell him!” You pleaded, realizing you were losing this battle.

“Of course I won’t…” He smiled coyly, “…I won’t do what you ask.” Then, with a laugh, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out the door.

“Oh, damn…” You froze in your seat, panic setting in.

“See you at practice tomorrow!” Seungmin waved annoyingly from the doorway, clearly aware that you had no choice but to comply.

As the door swung shut behind him, you sank back into your chair, contemplating your fate. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.

--

You arrived at his house and rang the doorbell repeatedly, knowing he would probably just hear it and take his sweet time.

“You’re late,” he said with a smug smile when he finally opened the gate.

“I’m not,” you insisted, holding your wrist up to show him your watch, the sleek silver face gleaming in the sunlight.

“You’re late by 58 seconds,” he replied, crossing his arms as if he were judging your punctuality.

“What?! It’s not my fault you opened your gate late!” You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

He chuckled at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Come in.”

“Not like I have a choice,” you muttered, stepping inside.

It was your first time in his house, and you weren’t surprised by how nice it was. The exterior was already immaculate, and the inside was just as polished—walls adorned with family photos and art that hinted at a cozy atmosphere. But you would never admit that to him.

“My parents aren’t home; they have work,” he said, glancing around the living room as if to check for any potential chaos.

“No one asked,” you shot back, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“Just wanted to let you know in case you try to kill me; there’s a CCTV camera around,” he said, half-serious.

“Oh, great. Just what I need,” you replied dryly, shaking your head.

He headed to the kitchen, presumably to get something to drink, giving you a moment to explore. You took the chance to glance at the pictures displayed throughout the room. One photo caught your eye—him as a child, beaming with joy as he played in a park.

When he returned, you pointed to the picture near the TV. “Is that you?”

“Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

You squinted at the picture, then turned to him, suddenly serious. “I mean… will there ever be a time for us to stop bickering, even just for a bit? I'm trying to start a normal conversation here”

“Will there be?” he countered, sitting beside you with a teasing grin, his body relaxed as he leaned back.

“Yeah, right. Never,” you replied, smirking despite yourself.

He handed you the printed script he’d prepared, the edges slightly crinkled. “Why are we putting so much effort into this? It’s just reading the script, not really acting it out.”

“Because I have a goal grade, unlike you,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Have you forgotten I’m an achiever too?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.

When would this bickering ever end?

“Hyunjin is coming,” he announced suddenly, the air in the room shifting.

“No one asked--” You paused, then asked, “Wait what?!”

“So you should behave if you don’t want to scare him off,” he added, the grin still plastered on his face.

“Seungmin, why would you do that?!” You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“Because… I can?” He laughed, shielding himself playfully. “I mean, what’s wrong with inviting a friend? He's good at acting he can help”

“I hate you so much,” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your tone.

Hyunjin had been your crush for as long as you could remember, and the thought of him being in the same space as you made your stomach flutter with nerves. He was perfect in every way—charismatic, charming, and completely out of your league.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Seungmin teased, leaning closer with that infuriating grin. “Oh, I forgot—you like him, right?”

You responded by giving him another light shove, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was always like this between you two—endless banter, lighthearted teasing, but the presence of Hyunjin added a layer of awkwardness you couldn’t quite shake.

You both settled onto the couch, the printed script between you. Seungmin glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Okay, let’s get this over with. You read Juliet’s lines, and I’ll read Romeo’s,” he said, smirking.

“Fine, but don’t mess it up,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

You started reading through the script, your voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Wow, so poetic. Just make sure you don’t faint from all that romance.”

You shot him a glare. “Shut up, Romeo.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced. Hyunjin was here.

“See? You should behave,” Seungmin teased, nudging your shoulder.

You threw him a playful glare, then he rushed to open the door. There stood Hyunjin, looking effortlessly cool, his smile warm as he greeted you both. “Hey! Ready to practice?”

“Uh, yeah! Come in!” you said, trying to keep your cool but feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.

Seungmin sauntered over, clearly relishing the moment. “Hyunjin! Glad you could join us! We were just getting to the juicy parts.”

You shot him a warning look, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. Hyunjin, however, seemed unfazed. “Nice! I can help you both with the romantic scenes if you want.”

You nodded eagerly. “That would be great! I need help with… you know, acting like I’m in love.” You winced at how obvious that sounded.

Hyunjin grinned, moving to sit across from you. “Alright, let’s try a scene. Here’s the famous balcony part. Juliet says, ‘O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.’”

You felt your heart flutter. “I’ll try,” you said, taking a deep breath. “O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again!”

Hyunjin smiled, then gestured for you to continue. “And then Romeo responds with, ‘I would not for the world they saw thee here.’”

Seungmin picked up the line, and you both began to read, the atmosphere shifting as you focused on the scene. You felt a playful energy in the air, the tension of performing lifting your spirits.

“‘I would not for the world they saw thee here,’” Seungmin said, his voice low and earnest.

You replied, “Then there’s no need to be ashamed,” trying to put as much emotion into it as possible.

Hyunjin clapped after your line. “That was great! You both looked really good together!”

You and Seungmin exchanged a quick look. “No!” you both said in unison.

Hyunjin chuckled, clearly entertained by your synchronized denial. “Really, it’s just acting! But seriously, you guys have good chemistry.”

“Thanks!” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.

“Alright, let’s keep practicing!” Hyunjin suggested, eager to dive back into the script.

You focused on the lines, the playful banter keeping the atmosphere light. As you practiced, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, the camaraderie making the task feel less like a chore and more like fun.

With Hyunjin guiding you, you felt more confident as you delivered your lines, ready to tackle the performance together.

--

The days passed in a blur as you and Seungmin practiced again at his house. You settled into a routine, the playful banter punctuating your rehearsals, and surprisingly, you started to enjoy the time spent together.

Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. As you stood in front of the class, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. When it was your turn to deliver your lines, you poured your heart into the performance, channeling every emotion.

To your surprise, Yuna leaned over after the presentation and whispered, “It wasn’t like you were entering each other’s nerves at all!” Her compliment made you beam with pride.

Seungmin, too, impressed you with his serious demeanor. For once, he seemed genuinely focused, and seeing him so dedicated made you realize how much he cared about doing well. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for both of you.

After the applause died down, your teacher announced, “I’m pleased to inform you all that I have chosen actors for the upcoming school play, and I choose…” She paused dramatically, glancing between you and Seungmin, “…you two!”

A wave of excitement surged through you, quickly followed by a burst of playful competitiveness. “See? You should thank me for picking a role that suits us both,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m grateful, alright. I forgot for a moment how you despise your pick. In fact, I’m so happy I’m going to treat you to cake and coffee.”

“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically, unable to hide your grin. “I deserve a treat after all that hard work!”

“Sure, but only because I can’t let my scene partner go hungry,” he said, winking.

As you both headed out, the bickering continued, light-hearted and familiar, but beneath it was a shared joy that made the moment all the more special. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this experience was bringing you closer, even if you would never admit it.

At the café, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the rich aroma of coffee. You and Seungmin settled into a cozy corner, the tension from earlier melted away as you both began to chat more easily.

“So, do you actually love acting?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve always idolized Emma Watson. I mean, come on, I look just like her!” You struck a dramatic pose, fluttering your eyelashes.

Seungmin looked at you, clearly unconvinced, with a “Are you kidding me?” expression. You burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the café.

“Okay, maybe not exactly like her,” you admitted, trying to catch your breath. “But a girl can dream, right?”

“Sure, if dreaming means torturing the rest of us,” he shot back with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m planning to major in acting when I get to college. It’s my dream!”

“Nice! I like acting too, but I’m thinking about majoring in music,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Wait, you? You know how to sing?” You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your skepticism.

“Wanna hear?” he challenged, a playful glint in his eye.

“Please no!” you teased, dramatically placing your hand on your heart. “I’d rather sleep forever than listen to your singing.”

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean! I think it would be the opposite”

“Mean? I’m just saving you from embarrassment,” you shot back with a grin. “You should thank me!”

"you'll regret what you're saying when I become famous."

As you exchanged playful banter, you realized that this was your way of connecting. The teasing and light insults had become second nature, and somehow, the hurtful words didn’t sting anymore. Instead, they felt like an essential part of your friendship, a comfortable rhythm that made you both laugh.

“Seriously though,” you said, softening a bit, “I think it’s awesome that you’re into music. We’ll be the dynamic duo of arts!”

“Absolutely! Just don’t expect me to duet with you anytime soon,” he joked, raising his cup in a mock toast.

“Deal!” you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.

--

As the practice for the play approached, your schedule became packed, leaving little time for anything else. Excitement bubbled inside you, especially since Hyunjin, a year ahead of you, was also in the cast. You could hardly wait for the next rehearsal.

One day, while waiting for practice to start, you found yourself lost in thought, staring at Hyunjin as he chatted with some friends. Seungmin, ever the observant one, caught you in the act.

“You look like a lovesick puppy,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.

You quickly snapped out of your daydream, narrowing your eyes at him. “Shut up! I’m not!” You playfully punched his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.

“Uh-huh, sure,” he laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“You’re just jealous that I’m not staring at you like that!”

As partners playing lovers in the play, you often imagined being paired with Hyunjin. But the teacher had chosen Seungmin, and surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. You’d gotten used to the banter, and the awkwardness faded as practice continued.

Days passed, filled with rehearsals that drew you closer to Seungmin. The bickering remained, a constant source of amusement.

During one practice, while the two of you were warming up, Seungmin leaned over to Hyunjin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hyunjin, have you already eaten? This monkey here asks,” he said, pointing at you as if you were some sort of pet.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “I am! Thank you for asking!” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, and she also said you were handsome,” Seungmin added, clearly enjoying the moment.

You felt your cheeks flush, and in a mock fit of outrage, you dashed toward him. “Seungmin!” you yelled, but he was quicker. He took off running, his laughter echoing through the practice room.

When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a playful hug, making him squirm. “You’re such a tormentor!” you laughed, shaking him lightly.

From across the room, Hyunjin watched the whole scene unfold, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure they hate each other?” asked the director, who was shaking his head in disbelief.

Hyunjin just nodded, clearly entertained. “Definitely yes!” he replied, chuckling at your playful dynamic.

As you and Seungmin continued to tease each other, you realized that despite the playful bickering, there was an undeniable comfort between you—something that made every rehearsal just a little bit brighter.

---

The rain poured down in relentless sheets, and there you were, standing under a shed, glaring at the gray sky as if it were personally responsible for your soaked shoes. You had forgotten your umbrella—again.

As you waited, shivering slightly from the cold, you spotted Seungmin in the distance, standing confidently under a bright yellow umbrella. He was teasingly waving it over his head, a smirk plastered on his face as he called out, “Looks like someone forgot their umbrella again!”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a finger. “Very funny, Seungmin!”

He sauntered over, his grin widening with each step. "You wanna share?"

You rolled your eyes. "No thanks." you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Okay, then. One word is enough for me.” He turned to leave, an exaggerated pout on his lips.

You hesitated for a moment, watching him walk away. “Wait!” you called out, and he turned back, an annoying smile in his lips. “Fine! We can share!”

Seungmin’s face broke into a triumphant grin as he rushed back to your side, positioning the umbrella over both of you. As you walked together, the atmosphere shifted from frustration to lightheartedness, laughter spilling out between the two of you.

“My shoulder is now wet,” Seungmin complained, feigning annoyance as he brushed water off his shirt.

“Is it my fault that you work out so much? Your shoulders are just too broad!” you shot back, unable to suppress a grin.

“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.

“Ugh, it wasn’t a compliment!” you retorted, trying to keep a straight face.

“Then I’ll just have to embrace this wetness!” he said cheerfully, adjusting the umbrella with exaggerated flair. Before you knew it, he leaned closer, and water dripped off his shoulder, splashing onto you.

You burst into laughter, shoving him playfully. “You idiot!”

Seungmin laughed too, chasing after you as you dashed away, your heart racing with excitement. The rain seemed to fade into the background, the only sound being your giggles and the splatter of water against the pavement.

“You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled, laughter echoing through the downpour.

Just as you turned to look back, he splashed a wave of water right at you, soaking you completely. You retaliated, grabbing a handful of rainwater and splashing it back at him.

The playful battle raged on, and soon both of you were drenched, shivering yet exhilarated.

---

It was two weeks before the big play, and you were laser-focused on perfecting every detail. The pressure was on, and you found yourself spending more time practicing than ever. You wanted everything to be perfect, especially with the role you were playing. Seungmin, of course, was your partner in most scenes, so you had to rehearse together.

But as you delivered your lines, standing face-to-face with Seungmin, it became harder and harder to stay serious. Seungmin kept pulling funny faces behind his lines, causing you to break character and burst into laughter.

“Direct, please, punch him or something!” you whined dramatically, throwing your hands up. “He won’t stop!”

The director, seeing your exaggerated reaction, just chuckled. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast erupted in laughter.

"I’m serious now! I promise!" Seungmin said, shrugging off his antics.

You tried to continue, but the minute you looked at his serious face, you couldn’t hold back your laughter again. His deadpan expression was just too much.

“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping away a tear from laughing too hard. “Let’s take five. I need to compose myself.”

You sat down in the corner, still laughing. Seungmin joined you, shaking his head with a grin.

“Why are you always like this?” you asked, playfully slapping his arm. “We’re supposed to be professional!”

“Hey! I’m doing great! You’re the one laughing!” he protested with a smirk.

You couldn't deny it—something had shifted between you and Seungmin lately. There was this playful, easygoing dynamic now, and to your surprise, you liked it. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but the tension between the two of you had somehow dissolved, leaving behind a strange sort of camaraderie. And it felt... right.

---

Late again. You were quietly crawling your way toward your seat, praying that Seungmin wouldn’t notice. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be too preoccupied to see you sneaking in. But no such luck. Just as you thought you were in the clear, you saw Seungmin glancing in your direction, that infamous smirk already forming on his face. You knew that look all too well—he was up to something.

Desperate, you shot him a pleading look, mouthing a dramatic “Nooo,” and shaking your head in an exaggerated fashion. But the smirk only widened as he raised his hand.

“Ma'am!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable scolding. This is it, you thought. I’m done.

But instead, Seungmin’s voice rang out casually, “I forgot to give you the assignments I collected from the class.”

Your eyes flew open in shock. What?

“Oh right! Thank you, Seungmin, for the reminder.” The teacher smiled at him, clearly appreciating the help.

Seungmin stood up, cool as ever, handing over the pile of papers. He sat back down, a faint smirk still on his lips as if nothing unusual had happened.

You slid into your seat cautiously, your heart still racing. You glanced over at Seungmin, who met your gaze with a quick wink before turning back to his notebook. That was... new, you thought, utterly confused.

--

Practice resumed as usual, and you started to get into the flow of things. You liked rehearsing for the play more than you thought you would, especially with the creative freedom you were given. The only downside? Seungmin never missed an opportunity to get under your skin.

As you entered the practice room, sporting your freshly cut hair, Seungmin immediately took notice.

He eyed you up and down, a teasing grin already forming on his lips. “You know,” he began, casually leaning back in his chair, “short hair doesn’t really suit you.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “What are you talking about? I look pretty in it,” you shot back confidently, placing your hands on your hips.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, the playful grin still firmly in place. “Pretty? More like you look like a monkey who tried to give itself a haircut.”

“Excuse me?” You gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I do not look like a monkey.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin shrugged, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. He leaned closer, dropping his voice dramatically. “But just so you know, if we ever put you in a zoo, you’d fit right in.”

You gasped again, this time more dramatically, then pointed at him with a mock serious expression. “You’re just jealous because I’m out here looking cute and you can’t handle it.”

“Cute?” Seungmin laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever, I know the truth. You’re just afraid to admit that I’m rocking this look,” you teased back, refusing to back down.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, monkey,” he said, chuckling softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.

--

Another day in class, you were erasing the board when something hit the back of your head. Startled, you spun around, spotting Seungmin sitting there, whistling innocently. It was the most obvious thing ever—he didn’t even try to hide it.

You glared at him, trying to keep your cool. ‘Let it go’, you thought. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction’. But then, another paper ball hit you.

"Seriously?" you muttered under your breath, turning to give him a sharp look.

This time, Seungmin didn’t bother pretending. He smiled and pointed to the paper ball on the floor. “Read it,” he said, nodding toward the crumpled note.

You raised your hand, ready to throw the eraser at him with full force.

“Wait!” Seungmin said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just read it, will you?”

With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the paper, unfolding it. Written in his messy handwriting were the words: “Let’s eat. My treat.”

Before you could react, Jisung, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, burst into laughter. “What kind of lame drama am I witnessing?” he cackled.

You whipped around and threw the eraser at him instead, hitting him square in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, Jisung!”

“Hey! I’m just saying!” Jisung grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos.

Later that afternoon, you and Seungmin found yourselves at a seafood restaurant. Well, it was supposed to be Seungmin’s treat, but somehow the two of you ended up bickering over who would pay. Cause you wanna pay too.

“Let’s settle this the mature way—rock, paper, scissors,” Seungmin proposed, holding out his fist.

“Fine,” you agreed, thinking you had a good chance.

You both threw out your hands, and you won.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, triumph coursing through you for about five seconds. But then Seungmin began to order.

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”

You frowned, confusion creeping in as the waiter approached. Seungmin rattled off an absurd number of dishes—enough to feed an entire village.

“Seungmin,” you hissed, eyes wide in disbelief, “do you really need to order enough food for 30 people?”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “You said it was your treat. I’m just taking full advantage.”

You pouted, crossing your arms defiantly. “This isn’t fair. You’re evil.”

“Evil? No way,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer the term ‘strategically gifted.’”

As the waiter left with the long list of orders, you grumbled, “You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”

In the end, Seungmin ended up paying for most of it, but you insisted on contributing, stubbornly pushing a few bills his way. He didn’t argue too much, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“Of course! If I’m going to be broke, I might as well be happy about it,” you retorted, a grin spreading across your face.

Seungmin laughed, clearly entertained by your determination. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just let you win without a fight.”

“Deal! But only if you promise not to order enough food for a small army,” you teased, raising your glass in a mock toast.

“Challenge accepted,” he replied, clinking his glass against yours, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all.

--

Another rehearsal, and you were sitting on the sidelines, legs crossed as you watched your classmates perform. You had just finished your scene and were still buzzing from the energy of it all. The lights cast a warm glow on the stage, and you found yourself quietly admiring the atmosphere, the stars of the production shining brightly in your eyes.

Suddenly, the director's voice broke through your thoughts. “Seungmin, can you step in as the main character for a bit? Our lead’s absent today.”

“Sure,” Seungmin replied, standing up with an easy confidence. He made his way to the center of the stage, and you prepared for him to be awkward or hesitant. Instead, he surprised you.

As he took his place, he transformed. His movements were smooth and assured, his voice resonating with sincerity. You couldn’t help but lean forward, captivated. He moved across the stage effortlessly, delivering his lines with an authenticity that made you forget you were watching your friend.

Wow, he was really talented.

You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thought away. No way could you think Seungmin was handsome. That was just absurd.

Then came a scene where he had to hug the female lead. As he pulled her into a gentle embrace, your heart gave a small, inexplicable flutter. The warmth of his presence seemed to radiate even from where you sat, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.

You tried to shrug it off, focusing on the performance, but the feeling lingered, swirling with an odd mix of admiration and something else entirely. Watching him, you realized you were seeing a different side of Seungmin—one that was undeniably charismatic and captivating.

The rehearsal continued, but you found it harder to concentrate, your thoughts drifting back to the way he had held her, how effortlessly he embodied the character. What was happening to you? You glanced away, trying to regain your composure, but the strange flutter remained, echoing in your mind long after the scene ended.

You were still lost in thought about the rehearsal when Hyunjin sat down beside you. “You look really pretty with your hair like that,” he commented with a smile.

You blushed at the compliment, glancing down. “Thanks! Seungmin said it doesn’t suit me.”

Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Seungmin? He’s just teasing you. That’s his way of telling you he likes it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“Definitely,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk. “He wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t like it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He always tease me.”

Hyunjin leaned back, still smiling. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“We’re neighbors,” you explained. “Since elementary school. We were always competing—who could get the best grades, who could finish their homework first. It’s been like that forever.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Do you hate him?”

You laughed, thinking for a moment. “If I could push him off a cliff, I probably would.”

Hyunjin grinned. “Would you really, though?”

You hesitated, suddenly unsure. “...yes,” you admitted, half-joking.

Hyunjin chuckled, clearly sensing something. “Well, I hope I don’t hear about you two pushing each other off cliffs anytime soon.”

You shrugged with a playful smile. “No promises.”

--

Later, you were eating peacefully in the cafeteria, minding your own business, when Seungmin plopped his tray down across from you. He sat down without a word, digging into his food.

You raised an eyebrow, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess... your friends are coming?”

Seungmin glanced at you lazily, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “No, they don’t wanna see you.”

You pouted, pretending to be offended. “I miss Hyunjin.”

“Then ask him out,” Seungmin replied lazily, taking a bite of his bread.

You paused mid-bite, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “You think I have a chance with him?”

Seungmin smirked, shaking his head. “No, he hates monkeys like you who throw erasers at people.”

You gasped, glaring at him. “I do not look like a monkey!”

“Sure, whatever helps you,” Seungmin teased, his grin widening. “And for the record, Hyunjin’s probably just being nice.”

You frowned, “He said I was pretty with my new haircut.”

Seungmin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how much he lies? He probably tells that to everyone.”

You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you decided to change tactics. “Help me get him to go out with me, then.”

Seungmin snorted. “Do it on your own. You’re big enough for that.”

You groaned dramatically, leaning across the table toward him. “If you help me, I’ll buy you something. Anything you want.”

Seungmin looked at you, considering it for a moment before shrugging. “Buy me a house."

You rolled your eyes, giving him a deadpan stare. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying how easily you gave up. “Good luck, Juliet.”

--

It was Friday again, and somehow, you found yourself seated next to Seungmin—again. This time, however, you arrived early, a full thirty minutes ahead of your usual time. Feeling tired, you laid your head on the desk, hoping to catch a quick nap.

Just as you were dozing off, you felt a sharp knock on the desk, startling you awake. You looked up to see Seungmin grinning down at you, clearly enjoying your misery.

“Missing me that much, huh?” he teased. “You’re thirty minutes earlier than usual.”

You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “We basically see each other every day. I’m already sick of it,” you replied with a shrug.

Seungmin chuckled, settling into his seat beside you. “You’ll survive. Anyway, I need to copy your assignment.”

You blinked, sitting up straight. “We had an assignment?”

“Seriously?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. He reached into his bag and pulled out his own paper, handing it to you. “Here, just copy mine before Ma’am shows up.”

You took the paper from him, still confused. “Wait, I thought you said you didn’t do the assignment either?”

“I forgot that I had,” Seungmin said casually, smirking. “Now hurry up before it’s too late.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your pen and started copying the assignment, scribbling quickly while glancing at the door every few seconds to make sure the teacher wasn’t close. As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the shift between you and Seungmin. There was a time when you would’ve refused to help him—or worse, argued with him endlessly. But now? It felt... different. There was a weird sense of comfort in these small moments.

"What now? does our fighting over who finish assignments first done?" you laugh,

"Then give me back my paper. I've changed my mind."

You didn’t hate it. In fact, you kind of liked it.

--

 Seungmin was sipping on his water bottle backstage when Hyunjin approached him, all casual as ever.

“Seungmin,” Hyunjin started, leaning against the wall beside him. “Do you like her?”

Seungmin paused mid-sip, glancing sideways at Hyunjin with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin gave him a knowing look. “I’ve known you for years, dude. I know when you like someone.”

Seungmin snorted, trying to brush it off. “Why would that matter to you?”

“Well,” Hyunjin said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “if I asked her out, would you get mad?”

Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked it, his expression turning nonchalant. “Why would I care?”

Hyunjin tilted his head, smirking as if testing Seungmin’s reaction. “Really?”

Seungmin waved his hand dismissively, though his jaw tightened slightly. “What am I, a matchmaker for you two? Why are you even asking for my opinion? I don’t care.”

Hyunjin chuckled and slung an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I needed to know.”

As Hyunjin walked away, Seungmin clenched his water bottle a little too tightly. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the fact that Hyunjin seemed interested in you, or the fact that you two were making him feel like some kind of third wheel. Whatever it was, it was starting to get under his skin.

--

Seungmin was making his way back to the classroom, balancing a small box of milk he’d grabbed for you from the cafeteria. He'd overheard you mention wanting one earlier, so without a second thought, he picked one up, hoping to surprise you.

As he neared the classroom door, he paused when he heard your voice. You were deep in conversation with one of your friends, and for some reason, curiosity got the better of him. He stood just outside, hidden by the doorframe, listening.

"Why do you hate Seungmin so much, anyway?" your friend asked.

Seungmin’s ears perked up at the question, his grip tightening around the milk carton. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing there, but he couldn’t move. He just waited.

You sighed before answering, "He's so annoying. Always teasing me, always acting like he’s better than me. He’s infuriating."

Each word hit him harder than he expected, like tiny jabs that made his heart sink deeper and deeper. He already knows this what you felt for him but he doesn't know why it still hurts. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming out a little shallower as he stayed rooted to the spot.

But then you added something else, something he missed. A quieter tone followed the harshness of your earlier words. It was softer, almost like you were reflecting on something.

"Lately though... I don’t know. I guess I’ve started to see that maybe he’s not that bad."

But Seungmin didn’t hear those words. He had already turned away, stepping back before he could catch the change in your tone. His heart, now heavier, urged him to walk in the opposite direction, so that’s exactly what he did. The milk, once meant to be a small gesture of kindness, now felt pointless in his hand.

PE class rolled around, and with no rehearsal scheduled, you entered the gym, spotting Seungmin as usual. You both ended up being partners again—something that had become routine at this point. There were no protests, no over-the-top objections. Just quiet acceptance.

The first activity was jogging, but you immediately noticed something was off. Normally, Seungmin would be teasing you the whole time, making snarky comments about how slow you were. But today, he was silent.

"One minute," you said, reading his time on the stopwatch. Normally, this would prompt a laugh from him, followed by some sarcastic remark about how you'd be the first one caught in a zombie apocalypse.

But today, he just nodded and moved on to the next activity without a word. Weird.

The next exercise was push-ups. You barely managed four before collapsing, groaning in exhaustion. Seungmin, on the other hand, breezed through twenty without breaking a sweat. You tried to compliment him in a lowkey way, but he didn’t react—just kept going like a machine.

What is up with him?

Then came the sit-ups. You held down Seungmin’s toes, though it didn’t seem like he needed any help. His form was perfect, and he didn’t even look your way. The proximity of the exercise made you search for his eyes, but every time you tried to make eye contact, he avoided looking at you.

When it was your turn, you felt exhausted by your fifth sit-up, and Seungmin held your toes firmly in place. This time, he watched you more intently, though you couldn’t see him since you were focusing on the exercise. Only when you glanced up did he quickly avert his gaze.

After class, you caught him trying to leave and stopped him in his tracks.

“Seungmin, what’s going on with you?” you asked, planting yourself in front of him.

He gave you a blank look. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re acting... weirdly weird today. Did something happen?”

Seungmin sighed, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, brushing past you.

You caught his arm before he could fully walk away. “Hey, you can talk to me. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”

He paused, looking at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying coldly, “Why would I? We’re not friends.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, watching as he walked away, feeling a strange pang in your chest.

Later, you sat next to Hyunjin, watching Seungmin perform his scenes on stage. He still ignored you, going through the motions of his role flawlessly, but there was no denying the distance between you now. The way he looked past you, as if you weren’t there, made you feel... sad.

“What’s up with him?” you muttered to Hyunjin. “He’s been acting strange all day.”

Hyunjin smirked. “He’s probably mad about what I told him.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I told him I like you. And that I was going to ask you out.”

You blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Wait... what?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why else would he be jealous?”

“Jealous?” you repeated, confused. “Why would he be jealous?”

Hyunjin let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you and Seungmin are both idiots, or if you’re just blind.”

“Ouch,” you said, feigning offense, though your mind was spinning. Jealous? Seungmin?

Hyunjin’s laugh faded into a small smile, and after a moment of silence, he sighed. “Wow, my confession really flew under the radar, huh?”

You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. Oh... right. His confession.

You smiled awkwardly. “Wait, was it serious? Or were you just joking?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You think I’m a joker like that puppy?” He nodded toward Seungmin, who was still on stage.

Normally, this would be the moment where you’d blush, stammer, and lose your mind. But something didn’t feel right. There was something nagging at you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I...”

Before you could respond, Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting you off. “Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me yet. I’ll wait until after the play presentation.”

He smiled, and you smiled back, though it felt forced.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just getting my water bottle,” Seungmin’s voice broke the moment as he stepped between you two, grabbing his bottle.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he was gone before you could. You stared after him, feeling more confused than ever.

-

In the past, this type of bickering was normal between you two. You had always gotten on each other's nerves, and usually, you'd be happy to ignore him, savoring the peace and quiet. But this time felt different. Why were you so affected by his silence? Why did it feel like a hollow pit had formed in your chest, waiting for him to fill it? You hated him, didn’t you? You used to hate him—right? But now, all you felt was a growing sense of confusion and frustration, like you were waiting for something that never came.

Seungmin had been avoiding you for three days now, and at first, you brushed it off, assuming he had something on his mind. But as time went on, the weight of his silence pressed harder. It wasn’t just affecting the play—it was affecting you. His avoidance felt more personal than it ever had before, and it gnawed at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

"Seungmin, let's talk." You caught up to him backstage, your voice firmer than usual, trying to mask the vulnerability you were starting to feel.

"Why?" he responded coldly, not even looking in your direction.

You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "What do you mean, 'why'? We obviously need to talk about something."

"I don't want to," he replied like a stubborn child, folding his arms defensively.

You groaned, frustration bubbling inside you. "Stop giving me that bratty attitude, Seungmin. Let's just talk, okay?" Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit door for privacy.

Once you were both outside, you turned to face him, still gripping his wrist. "Are you angry at me?" you asked softly, though the edge of desperation in your voice betrayed you.

Seungmin pulled his hand away from your grasp, shrugging. "We're normally angry at each other," he muttered, staring at the ground as if avoiding your gaze would shield him from the conversation.

You furrowed your brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Seungmin, we both know something has changed between us. We’re… sort of friends now, right? Why are you acting like this?"

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Why? This is normal. We’ve always been like this. Why are you suddenly acting like something's different?"

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard. "So I’m still just an enemy to you?" The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, and you hated yourself for how much it hurt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. "Because for me—" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. "For me, things changed. I’ll be honest with you. I hated you so much before, Seungmin. I mean, if I could’ve thrown you into the fire pit, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat." You laughed bitterly, trying to lighten the mood, but your heart ached as you realized the truth. "But now, I see you as a friend."

Seungmin's breath hitched at your confession, and for a moment, his walls seemed to crack. But then his jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "No."

You stared at him, bewildered. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"

His voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out. "Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just focus on Hyunjin and pretend like I’m not even here?"

"Why would I do that?" you asked, confusion lacing your words.

Seungmin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Because you like him," he bit out. "You like Hyunjin, and you’ve hated me since the day we met."

You stepped closer, lowering your voice, "Seungmin… I told you. We're past that stage of hating each other."

His laugh was hollow, bitter. "You’ve hated me since we were kids. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? But you know what? I preferred it that way. I’d rather you keep hating me than whatever this is."

You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. It hit you hard—the realization that Seungmin had always been more affected by your feelings than you’d thought. And now, he was clinging to the past because it was easier to accept your hatred than deal with the uncertainty of whatever you were becoming now.

"But I don't hate you anymore," you said softly, your voice gentle but firm.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours for the briefest second before he looked away again, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he shook his head, taking a deep breath.

"Then what do you feel now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was a question you hadn’t fully answered yourself. What did you feel? What had changed between you two? The hate had faded long ago, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. But how could you put it into words when you weren’t sure what those feelings even were?

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But I know I don’t want to keep ignoring it. I don’t want to keep pretending like we’re still stuck in the past. I care about you, Seungmin, and I—"

He cut you off, his voice sharp but shaky, "Stop. Don’t say it. Please."

His plea was laced with fear, and you could see it now—the fear of getting hurt, of being vulnerable. Seungmin had always hidden behind his teasing and sharp words, but now, as he stood before you, walls crumbling, you realized just how much he had been protecting himself all along.

"Seungmin..." You took a step closer, your hand hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. "You don’t have to push me away."

He closed his eyes, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away again. But then, he sighed, the weight of his emotions too heavy to bear alone anymore. "You don’t get it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I’m scared. Scared that if you don’t hate me, you’ll realize… I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t know how to handle that."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. The tension, the unspoken words, all of it finally made sense. You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the vulnerability behind them cutting deep.

Seungmin liked you.

And somehow, deep down, you’d known.

-

The day of the play had arrived, and for the first time, a tight knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. You'd performed in front of people before, but this time felt different. This time, you weren’t just performing in front of a crowd—you were performing in front of him.

As you paced backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise, you couldn’t help but glance around anxiously, searching for Seungmin. The others were already in place, getting ready for the opening act. But Seungmin… he was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart raced as minutes ticked by. What if he didn’t show up? What if his feelings, the tension between you, had driven him away? You shook your head, trying to focus, but the anxiety clung to you like a second skin.

The stage manager called for the cast to take their places, and you stepped toward the stage, dread settling deep in your chest. The lights dimmed, the curtains rustled, and the play was about to begin. But Seungmin—where was he?

Just as the opening music started and your heart sank, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned and saw him. Seungmin, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking with yours as he walked into place. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a rush of relief. He had made it.

You took a deep breath, letting his presence calm you, and when the curtains finally rose, you stepped into your role. The lights blinded you for a second, and the sound of the audience rustled in the background, but none of that mattered. Your focus was on one person.

Seungmin.

You went through your lines, heart pounding in your chest. The audience faded away, and it was just the two of you on stage. But when you looked into Seungmin’s eyes, delivering your lines, it felt too real—like every word you spoke wasn’t part of the play but something deeper.

And then came the moment. The pivotal line.

As you reached the climax of your scene, Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze steady and intense. “I love you,” he said, his voice clear and sincere.

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, delivered in that moment, felt electric. It wasn’t just a line; it was a declaration that cut through the scripted lines and went straight to your heart.

Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You weren’t supposed to cry here—not in this scene—but it was impossible to hold back the emotion. The intensity of the moment, standing before him as he revealed his feelings, overwhelmed you.

Seungmin’s gaze softened, and for a second, the audience faded away. It was just you and him, wrapped in a moment that felt like the truth finally breaking through.

You tried to respond, but the weight of his confession hung in the air, filling the space between you. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

The play continued, but all you could think about was Seungmin’s words. He had spoken them as part of the script, but they felt so real, so genuine. Something shifted in the atmosphere between you two—something undeniable.

As the final act came to a close, and you took your bow, the audience erupted in applause. But even then, your eyes were only on Seungmin, wondering if he felt the same shift in the air between you two. Something had changed. Something profound. And while you weren’t sure where it would lead, for now, you were content just to hold on to the moment, letting it linger as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed.

For now, the stage had played its part, but what came next was something only time would tell.

-

a reblog, like, and comment is very much appreciated to keep me going. thanks for reading, love!

sorry for being inactive lately and not responding to any of your messages i appreciate you all love you sm!!

[killerpancakeburger]

Scary Dog Privilege w/ Ghost

PART 2

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, suggestive at the end, GuardDog!Ghost x Handler!Reader, smug!Ghost. Reader is careful of Ghost's boundaries. Ghost's "outburst" (no idea how to call it tbh) is based on how @valiants drew them here and there. I just love this depiction so much, it's too relatable. 1.3k words.

Part 1.

“You really need to stop terrorizing the new recruits.”

Heaving a sigh, you glower at the shiny plaque adorning the mahogany desk you’re sitting at.

Cpt. John Price.

The aforenamed is away for a week, something about a higher-ups seminar. Left you in charge and, when you started to heft some heavy cardboards full of paperwork, he suggested you take his office too. It wasn’t conventional by any means, but what John Price wants, John Price gets.

You imagined that being the big boss would be fun.

You didn't expect his men to be… such a hassle.

Soap could not go one day without getting involved in a fight.

Gaz was sweet as pie to your face, only to use your own gratefulness against you later when he wanted something.

And Ghost. Oh, Ghost. From the very start, he had been playing with you like a cat plays with his food. Acting like your right-hand man. Always by your side, dutiful shadow. His relentless stare was like a torch against the nape of your neck, like the tangible weight of gloved hands on your shoulders. Following instructions but always with a snarky reply, and a smirk on his lips that you could guess behind the mask simply by the look in his eyes. Not mentioning the times you were alone together and he'd stop covering the bottom of his face. Made it easier to drink — tea but also bourbon —, to smoke, to tempt you with his scarred lips—

You shake your head in an attempt to refocus.

Your concentration doesn't last a mere minute that it's already shattered by the slam of a door.

A familiar slam and a familiar door, if that is even possible.

One of your men is acting out again.

You slip through the group massed in front of the room you need to access, ignoring their warnings and brushing off their attempts to make you turn back.

Knocking three times in rapid succession so he knows it's you, you glide in wordlessly, taking care to lock the door behind you so there won't be any interruption. You lean your back against it, taking a moment to assess the situation.

Your eyes linger on the knife lodged into the table before fixing upon the sizable being sitten nearby. Bending at the waist under an invisible force, his elbows rest on his knees while his fingers clutch the part of his mask that covers the back of his head. One word immediately comes to mind— overwhelmed.

His back is turned on you. You can almost distinguish the dark aura he exudes, an inky blackness that matches his t-shirt and his gloves.

You pull away from the door and join him, absently noticing that your steps are loud enough for him to locate you— force of habit.

“Ghost?”

A metaphorical outstretched hand.

Silence.

Stopping behind his back, you instinctively raise a tentative hand— to ensure his attention? To provide comfort?— before halting halfway, reconsidering. Pulling it back, you opt for a verbal approach instead.

“You really need to stop terrorizing the new recruits.”

You can’t help the fond, amused smile that stretches your lips as you say it.

Silence, still.

It doesn't deter you. After all, you’re no stranger to the need to drop verbal communication in favor of onomatopoeias or hand motions.

Nevermind that, you can fill the silence with retelling of your day.

As the quiet remains your only interlocutor for the third time in a row, you decide to cut your losses, at least for today. You’re unsure whether Ghost's in a mood where he'd rather stay alone, or one where he'd appreciate company but only the silent kind. Eyeing the knife again, you reckon it must be the former.

But as you turn around to leave, a pair of arms circle your waist, putting a swift end to your exit. The sudden embrace causes you to sway a bit, nonetheless you keep your cool.

“Changed your mind?”

A light gibe, essentially harmless, but provocating enough to prompt an answer.

He replies with a muffled groan, before pulling you closer and pressing his face into the small of your back. The contact, admittedly unexpected, but not unwelcome, sends shivers down your spine.

“That's certainly an… interesting position,” is all you find to say, picturing the expression someone would make if they were to stumble upon you two.

Twisting around a bit, you manage to see half of him, and use the view to reach back and pat his head. You quickly come to the conclusion that you’re stuck there for a while, same as if a pet cheetah nominated your lap for its nap.

A few moments later, a minute or an eternity, you end up chuckling to yourself. There's a grumble in your shirt, and it takes a second or two for you to comprehend that the grumble is actually words.

“What's so funny?”

You sigh pensively.

“Was thinking about the recruits you scared. They were shaking in their boots when I got here, you'd think they've seen worse than a ghost. But the most formidable thing here is a cuddle monster.”

The limbs around your torso release you unpromptedly, and as you pivot to face the lieutenant, he only has one step to take to corner you against a wall.

“S'that so?”

The sarcasm in his tone is familiar, yet you fail to see what he's getting at.

“... yeah?”

You don’t try to hide the interrogation in your voice; you want your confusion to be known.

He props one forearm on the wall, right by your head, and leans closer to murmur huskily:

“Do I scare you?”

You bite your lower lip not to laugh, his antics evoking some sort of dark, tortured protagonist. Yet, you'd be lying if you pretended this little display was leaving you indifferent.

Hell, you wish you were scared, because then you wouldn’t long to reduce the distance between your two bodies, already scandalously limited.

Wavering about your reply, you ultimately select the truth.

“Not anymore.”

You swear you can make out the corners of his mouth rise behind the mask.

“Good,” he appraises, laconic as ever.

Stricken by a timidity as sudden as it is intense, you start to ramble nervously, avoiding his intense stare.

“No but, for real, you'd laugh too if you'd seen their faces. They were so worried, imploring me not to go. It's like they were convinced you'd eat me alive.”

“Could be arranged.”

The suggestive line has the merit to make you stop dead in your tracks. His insufferable confidence fills you with irritation and arousal yet again.

You can’t let him win this one, you categorically refuse to let him have the last word. So you bring your face even closer to his and purrs:

“It's such a shame you’re wearing a mask, otherwise I would have already shoved my tongue down your—”

He rips off the bottom part of his mask with such haste that it would be comical if you weren't busy being squished between him and the wall the next second. He presses you against the stone the same way he presses his lips against yours— insistent, warm.

Once again, his hands settle on your hips like they belong here, and his thumbs slip under the cloth to stroke your hipbones.

His newfound urgency is the antipodes of the restraint he manifested until now, leaving you short of breath.

A call of your name pulls you apart, but barely, noses almost brushing. You shoot a look at the door just to see the handle lowers in vain. Letting out an amused and relieved scoff, you rest your forehead against Ghost's torso, thanking yourself for locking.

The voice persists, asking if everything's okay. You raise your head but, as you open your mouth to answer, Simon silently orders you to stay quiet with a forefinger across his lips. You frown and mouth silently— no, YOU shut up— before hollering to be heard.

“All good, thanks!”

Obviously, answering is a much better solution than a suspicious silence. Yet Ghost doesn't seem to share that opinion, as he stares at you unimpressed, but you kiss him before he can make any disagreeable comment.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Accident Prone

Sylus x Y/N - drabble -772 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, based off a request, slight injury, very cute

Sylus watched as you cut up the fruit you insisted on having for a snack. It was a regular Saturday but you insisted on pampering your sleepy mob boss boyfriend. So he sat at the island and watched you hum while you sliced away. 

“Careful sweetie.” Sylus said as you got a little too close to your finger for his comfort.

“I’m a pro.” you said waving him off. This would have been true if you weren't the definition of clumsy. You turned with the plate of fruit in your hand, but your socks had it out for you today. You felt yourself starting to slip, you shoved the fruit to the counter before you slipped, knife in hand. You didn’t feel it immediately, you saw the blood first. Sylus rushed to your side, the small knife sticking out of your thigh.

You sat in silence as you felt tears starting to stream down your face. Sylus didn’t hesitate, slipping his arm under your legs to pick you up. He sat you on the counter before he used his evol, disappearing before you then reappearing with his first aid kit in hand. You called it “the mob kit” because it was basically a triage kit, holding way more than the basic supplies of a normal first aid kit. Thankfully you weren't wearing pants so he didn't have to cut anything off you. 

Sylus held your face in his hands, “Hey honey, I need you to look at me ok? Focus on me ok? Look at me…” he said before his evol ripped the knife from your leg.

You let out a sharp shriek, you felt it all now. You watched as blood trickled down your leg, spilling onto the floor and island countertop. 

“You did so good, baby so so good.” Sylus said, inspecting the cut. “Good news - no stitches. I’ll give you some poor man stitches instead.” 

You sniffled, trying to be tough in front of Sylus who had suffered far greater injuries. You nodded at him, giving him permission to do whatever he needed to do. 

Sylus cleaned your wound with iodine to avoid it stinging, he wanted to save you as much pain as possible. Once the wound had clotted enough to wrap he pinched the skin together slightly, sealing it with super glue. 

“That’s poor man's stitches? Glue?” you asked, slightly shocked.

“Sure is. You know how many of my scars are from these kinds of stitches?” he said with a chuckle. 

He blew softly on the glue to help it dry, tapping it lightly to make sure it was dry and would hold. Once he was satisfied, Sylus started wrapping gauze around your leg, pinning it in place so you could walk around and not have it ride down or irritate your skin. 

“There we go, my brave little klutz. I really have to keep an eye on you, you’re so accident prone.” he laughed, setting his hand down on the countertop. Well, what he thought was the countertop. His hand made contact with the plate of food, sliding out from under him. The fruit scattered over the counter and the floor but Sylus caught himself before he could get hurt.

“What were you saying about me being accident prone?” you said, stifling a laugh. “I worked hard to make that fruit plate, now look.” You could see the slightest dusting of pink on Sylus’ cheeks. 

Sylus rolled his eyes as he picked up a slice of peach from the counter, biting off half before offering the other half to you. You smiled, taking it between your teeth, giving his finger a quick nip while you did so. You could see a flame stoke in him. You looked at him with innocent eyes, pretending like you weren’t trying to tease him. 

“Think we can manage a way to get to the bedroom without having another accident?” Sylus asked, taking your hands and helping you off the counter. 

“I guess we’ll find out.” you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. 

He smiled as he watched you walk towards your shared bedroom, a small limp in your step. You felt Sylus’ evol wrap around you, carrying you to the bed. He leaned over you, pulling the fluffy comforter over you. “Stay here.” he said before disappearing once again. He reappeared once more after a moment, handing you a pain killer. 

You swallowed it with some water. “Thank you baby.” you smiled, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt to kiss him. 

Sylus smiled into the kiss, deepening it as he tilted your chin up.

------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello all! Hope ya'll like this one, its based off a request from a while back. I'll be writing a few fics tonight since I'm working an overnight. Love ya'll XOXOXOXOXOX

[yuvany]

PAINT ME LIKE MONA LISA

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 with an artist!reader

OT7 ENHYPEN x fem!reader . . . CONTENT / WARNING(S) : fluff + est relationship + not proofread . . WORD COUNT : 812 . CHECK MARK !!

( REBLOGS + FEEDBACK APPRECIATED !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

"Hee, don't move." You suddenly warn, your pencil balancing in between your fingers as you hold your palm up. "Please don't tell me a bomb is gonna detonate, babe." he jokes, and you chuckle, the sound of your pencil stratching the paper fills the room. "Are you drawing something?" He asks, and you hum. "Yup, wanna take a guess what i'm drawing?" You try to do this quickly while Heeseung is standing as still as he can. "Not sure. Care to tell me, pretty girl?" Heeseung itches his nose quickly, which goes unnoticed by you. "Obviously Mr.Handsome is my muse today."

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Saw you placing a bowl of fruit on the table, adjusting it and looking at it from all angles. Jay starts getting interested in what you're doing, so he gets closer to you from his hiding spot behind a corner. You hum delighted and return to your seat, but see Jay standing there. "Hello?" You ask with a chuckle. "Hey, sweetness. What's going on here?" Jay asked. "Nothing much, just an art project for school, they want us to do realism." You go on and explain the assignment. "So, like in the movies?" He asks, referring to how most movies use a bowl of fruits. You nod your head, and Jay gives you a kiss on the cheek for good luck.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

Jake walks into your room and sees the painting resting on the floor, the paint still looking moist. It's like the canvas is whispering for him to come closer, because he does, his eyes observing each detail. Without noticing, Jake's finger gets closer to the canvas, brushing against the edge softly. "Aye! Don't touch!" You exclaimed upon entering your room and seeing him hunched on the floor. "sorry babe, but this is absolutely gorgous!" He says, a wide smile presenting itself on his lips. "Thank you, but you gotta be careful, babe." You laugh awkwardly, hunching down beside him to admire your art with him.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

He sees you pull out a sketch book and a pen, his eyes glued to the movement of your wrist. "Are you drawing me?" He asks with a smirk as he poses jokingly. "You wish." You chuckle and turn the block around so that he can get a view of it. Sunghoon takes a while to look over the rough sketch, and you start to wonder if he's actually observing it, or just zoning-out. You raise and eyebrow, and he says, "You know, I am a much better view than a simple window." He glides his arm around your waist and pulls you in. "I'm sure you are." You say, pressing you lips to the corner of his mouth.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

You and him went to an art museum, his hands holding yours while you take your time to watch each exhibition before either taking a picture, which Sunoo knoows you'll use later as reference, or pulling out a small piece of paper form your bag and a pencil as you sketch the art while explaining the history behind the artworks. "That's really interesting." He says, and follows you around while you repeat the pattern of taking a photo, sketching and explaining. "Imagine if they one day put up your art, angel." he says in awe, and you reply, "then I'll tell them that the history of it is my love for you."

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

He sees you curled up in bed with your art block on the bed as you sketch on it lazily while laying down, waiting for inspiration to flow into your head. Jungwon sees you through the door when he walks by, and walks back to make sure of what he saw. Naturally he walks in, catching your attention. You hum at the sight of him and he plops onto the floor after grabbing a pencil from your desk causing yiu to stop drawing and look at him confused. So far, you've only drawn sunflowers and fishes very sloppily. Jungwon sees them and tries to copy the best he could, but let's just say he did his best. "That's a cute one." You giggle, seeing his attempt.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

Your first date with him was an artistic and creative one. He took you to an art cafe and challanged you to a paiting conset, but he underestimated you and drew a nice sunset instead, confident that he'd win the bet easily. "Times up!" He says with a smirk, and you smile brightly and let go off the brush. "Do you wanna go first?" You ask, and Riki shrugs. "Alright, but be prepared to be blown away." You clap the sight of his scenery, and he urges you to show yours. As you turn the canvas to him, his jaw drops and you chuckle. "So what do I win?" you ask after he was done gaping. "How about a kiss?" He asks, and delivers.

[romugh]

IN HER REFLECTION- nerd!NR

pairing- nerd!natasha romanoff x reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, sub!bottom!natasha, fingering, mirror sex, liiiight choking, strap (n rcv), heavy praise kink!!, slight degradation if you squint i guess, natty in subspace!

wc- almost 10k of pure smut? sorry?

a/n- got inspired by a request! and then my brain did something weird and suddenly there's 7k words about natasha taking a strap, but that's not on me. not. on. me. blame the anon! (loved writing your request, feel free to send some more in x)

request- forcing nerdy!nat to look at herself on the mirror while you make her sit on your lap and finger her.

synopsis- natasha had been a brat, so you treat her like one, exploring her desires as she confronts herself in the mirror.

taglist- @esposadejoyhuerta, @lost-mortemanghel - comment or dm if you'd like to be added x

It wasn’t just today that had you on edge. Natasha had been bratting out in the most subtle, infuriating ways for days now, but today she had taken it to another level. She knew exactly how to toe the line—pretending to be her usual innocent, shy self—while leaving just enough doubt in your mind to make you question whether or not she was pushing you intentionally.

The text messages were what really started it.

You’d been in class, trying to focus on a lecture, when the first one came in. It was simple enough: “Hope your class is going well ;)”—completely harmless, right? But you couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to it, especially when you opened it and saw the little winking emoji she’d added at the end. That wink, so out of character for her, made you pause. You stared at your phone, trying to decide whether or not you were imagining things. Natasha didn’t usually send flirty texts, let alone ones with winking emojis.

You could already feel the flicker of heat in your chest, but you pushed it aside and ignored the message, hoping it was just an innocent mistake.

Except it didn’t stop there.

Three hours later, another text came through: “I keep thinking about you today. Can’t focus on anything else.”

And this time, it wasn’t so easy to brush off. Her words were vague enough to be taken as sweet, but your gut told you there was more to it. You could almost imagine her saying those words, the way her voice might sound just a little breathless as she admitted it.

By the third class, you were struggling to concentrate. The way Natasha kept popping into your mind, her texts leaving you on edge, had you feeling more than just a little distracted.

As soon as the lecture ended and you stepped out of the classroom, your phone rang. Natasha.

You picked up, trying to keep your voice casual. “Hey, Natty. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice soft and shy, but there was something else. A breathlessness. Like she was slightly out of breath. “I was just thinking about you.”

Again, it sounded innocent enough, but the timing, the tone… something about it felt deliberate.

You frowned, trying to make sense of it. "Are you sure you're okay? You’ve been really... attentive today."

“I just miss you,” she murmured, her voice carrying that same soft, almost innocent tone. But underneath it, you could sense that there was more she wasn’t saying.

There was a slight pause on the line, and for a moment, you thought you heard her inhale sharply, like she was trying to catch her breath. It made your pulse spike, sending a ripple of heat through you. You didn’t ask, but the thought crossed your mind—was she…?

No. Natasha was too innocent for that. You knew she wouldn’t touch herself without you.

Still, the way she’d sounded out of breath left you imagining all sorts of scenarios, ones you tried to push away as you focused on getting through the rest of the day.

By the time you got home, her teasing texts and those breathy phone calls had simmered inside you, leaving you wound tight. She was fully aware of her actions, even though she acted like she wasn’t. The winks, the subtle innuendos, the way she kept thinking about you and calling you after every class—it was all part of her game.

And now, here she was, sitting at your dining table, acting like the same sweet, innocent nerd who couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong. Her head tilted slightly as she studied you, still feigning innocence, but there was that glimmer in her eyes, that hint of mischief that sent a fresh surge of frustration through you.

“What’s wrong?” she asked again, her voice sweet but clearly baiting you, her lips curling into the faintest smirk. “Did I do something?”

You exhaled sharply, narrowing your eyes at her. “Don’t play dumb, Natty. You know exactly what you’ve been doing all day.”

She blinked up at you, a blush warming her cheeks, but she didn’t deny it. Instead, she held your gaze, biting her lip as if struggling to suppress a smile, that bratty confidence shining through.

You moved closer, standing directly in front of her now, crossing your arms as you stared down at her. “The texts, the calls… were you just trying to mess with me?”

Her breath hitched slightly, the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I-I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t lie,” you interrupted, your tone firm. You leaned in, placing your hands on the arms of her chair, caging her in. “You’ve been bratting out all day, trying to get a reaction. Haven’t you?”

Her eyes widened for a moment, her bravado faltering just slightly. But then, after a beat of silence, she bit her lip and nodded.

“Maybe a little,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the admission was clear.

You could feel your pulse quicken, the tension between you crackling like electricity. You knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to push your buttons, trying to test you. But now? Now she was going to find out exactly what happens when she pushes too far.

“You like pushing me, don’t you?” you asked, your voice low and dangerous, watching as her blush deepened even further.

Natasha squirmed slightly in her seat, clearly flustered, but she didn’t look away. “I-I like it when you… when you pay attention to me,” she admitted softly, her voice filled with nervousness and excitement.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, you have my attention, alright.” You let your hand move to her chin, tilting her head up so she was forced to keep looking at you. “But if you want to keep bratting out, then you’d better be ready to handle what comes next.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her wide eyes locking onto yours. You could see the anticipation swirling there, her nervousness mixing with anticipation as she realised what was about to happen.

“Stand up,” you commanded, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Natasha quickly obeyed, her body trembling slightly as she rose to her feet, her gaze never leaving yours. You could see the flush creeping down her neck, and you knew that under her composed exterior, she was just as affected as you were.

You moved behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders and guiding her toward the mirror on the far wall of the room. She looked confused for a moment, but she didn’t resist.

You positioned her in front of the mirror, your body pressing close to hers from behind, your hands slowly sliding down her arms as you leaned in close to her ear.

“Look at yourself, Natty,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding. “Look at how flushed you are. How much you’ve been teasing me today.”

Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her eyes fixed on her reflection as you stood behind her, the tension between you thick in the air. She could see it herself too now—the bratty smirk gone, replaced with the vulnerable, needy expression you knew she’d been hiding all day.

“You think you’re so innocent,” you murmured, your hands moving down to rest on her hips. “But you’re not. You’ve been begging for this all day.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath, her eyes flickering between the mirror and the floor, her body trembling under your touch.

“I… I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, but you did,” you interrupted, your tone soft but firm. “And now, you’re going to take the consequences.” -

You sit on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror in your bedroom with Natasha in your lap. Her back is resting against your front, her body snug against yours. She’s still wearing her panties and your oversized shirt—one she had been using as pyjamas, soft and far too big for her. The image of her in it, slightly dishevelled, only adds to the intimacy of the moment.

She had undressed you earlier, her hands tentative but eager, slowly pulling off each piece of clothing until you were left bare. Her fingers had lingered on your skin, tracing over your chest, arms, and thighs with a delicate touch, as if still unsure of her own boldness. Now, the warmth of her bare back pressing against your chest feels both grounding and electrifying.

The oversized shirt hangs loosely off her shoulders, the fabric falling down past her thighs, barely covering anything. Her skin glows in the dim light of the room, and the way her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath betrays the nerves bubbling inside her. You can feel her heartbeat thudding softly against your chest, her anticipation palpable.

With one hand resting on her waist, you reach for the hem of the shirt. Your fingers brush lightly against her skin, and you feel the shiver that runs down her spine. "Let’s get rid of this," you murmur softly into her ear. She tenses for a moment, but she doesn’t object, only nodding slightly in agreement.

You tug the shirt upwards, brushing it over her shoulders and guiding her arms out of the sleeves. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and when the shirt is finally discarded, it leaves her sitting there in nothing but her panties, vulnerable and exposed in the dim light of the room.

The soft blush on her cheeks deepens, her eyes glancing away from the mirror in front of you as she tries to hide her embarrassment. But there’s no hiding now—not when you’re both like this.

"Look at yourself," you say gently, your voice soft but firm. Your fingers lift her chin, tilting her head slightly so she’s forced to meet her own reflection in the mirror. Her wide eyes flicker nervously, trying to focus on anything but the image staring back at her. But you don’t let her turn away.

"Look at how beautiful you are," you continue, your hand sliding down her bare stomach, feeling the soft skin beneath your fingertips. She trembles slightly, her body pressing further into you for comfort. The sight of her like this—vulnerable, unsure, and so soft—makes your heart ache with affection.

Her breathing hitches as your hand travels lower, tracing over the waistband of her panties. She’s already wet—you can feel it through the fabric—and the knowledge sends a thrill down your spine. You slide your hand under the waistband, teasing her with the lightest of touches.

"You’re already so wet for me," you murmur, pressing a finger against her slick entrance. Natasha gasps softly, her body jerking in your lap. Her hips shift instinctively, trying to push against your hand, but you hold her steady.

"Keep looking," you remind her, tilting her chin up again as you tear her panties away with a swift motion, leaving her exposed to the mirror. "I want you to watch every second."

Her breath comes in soft, shaky pants as you slide a single finger inside her. Her walls flutter around you, the slick heat welcoming your touch, but she’s so tight, so sensitive. She bites her lip, trying to stifle the whimper that escapes her, but you catch it anyway.

"Tell me how it feels," you coax her gently, your lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"It feels… good," she whispers, her voice trembling. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes half-lidded as she watches the reflection of herself in your lap, back pressed against you, utterly at your mercy. She’s barely holding on to her own control, the sensation already overwhelming her.

You add another finger, stretching her slightly, and her body tenses. She lets out a soft moan, her head falling back against your shoulder as you continue to move inside her. The wet sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of her fill the room, and her reflection shudders at the sound. Her hips rock involuntarily against your hand, desperate for more friction.

"Look at yourself," you whisper again, your voice a mix of command and praise. "Look at how beautiful you are when you’re falling apart so fast."

Natasha’s eyes flutter open, her gaze locking onto the reflection, and the sight makes her blush even deeper. She watches herself being fingered, cheeks flushed, lips parted as soft gasps fall from her mouth. She’s trembling in your lap already, her hips moving slightly, but she’s still shy, still struggling to meet her own gaze.

"Don’t hide from me," you murmur, curling your fingers inside her, causing her to whimper. "I want to see you, hear you. I want you to see yourself."

Her chest rises sharply as the pleasure builds, and her body reacts to every small movement of your hand. The intensity of it is written all over her face—her soft moans, the way her legs tremble in your lap, the way she tries so hard to maintain her composure but can’t.

You pick up the pace, curling your fingers just right, and Natasha’s breath hitches. Her hips jerk forward, her body writhing as the pleasure starts to take over. She’s close now, her walls tightening around your fingers, her moans growing louder as her body shudders in your arms.

"That’s it," you praise softly. "You’re doing so well."

It doesn’t take long before Natasha falls apart completely. Her orgasm hits her in waves, her body trembling violently as she gasps for air, her reflection a beautiful, trembling mess. Her walls clamp down on your fingers, and she lets out a loud moan, unable to hold back any longer. You keep your pace steady, letting her ride out the full extent of her climax.

"Good girl," you whisper, kissing her temple as she leans back against you, her body spent. "You’re so perfect."

For a moment, you think she might be done, her breathing heavy and her body limp against yours. But then, she surprises you.

"I want more," she whispers breathlessly, her voice barely audible. There’s a neediness to her tone, a desperation for something deeper, more intense.

You pull your fingers out slowly, watching as her body twitches at the sudden emptiness. She’s still trembling, her slick heat clinging to your fingers. "Are you sure?" you ask, your voice gentle but firm, wanting to be absolutely certain.

Natasha nods, biting her lip as she gazes at you in the mirror, cheeks flushed and eyes still glassy from her orgasm. You position three fingers at her entrance, and her breath catches in her throat. She’s never taken that much before, and the nervousness is evident in her expression. But she trusts you—completely.

With slow, deliberate movements, you push three fingers inside her, feeling the stretch and the tightness as she struggles to take all of you. Natasha lets out a sharp gasp, her body tensing, but you’re patient, whispering soothing words of encouragement into her ear.

"Just breathe," you murmur, one hand resting on her waist to ground her. "You’re doing so well, Natty."

Gradually, her body adjusts to the stretch, and the burn begins to melt into pleasure. She’s panting now, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she finally takes all three. Her hips begin to move again, her body seeking out the pleasure despite the overwhelming sensation of being stretched so deliciously. The sensation is intoxicating, and she could easily get addicted to it—the way her pussy clenches around you, taking you in, while she watches herself in the mirror, captivated by the sight.

"That’s it," you praise, your voice low and soothing as you curl your fingers inside her. Natasha’s moans grow louder, her hips rocking against your hand as she loses herself in the pleasure, her reflection shaking and flushed with arousal.

Natasha’s hips move restlessly, grinding down onto your hand as her breath comes in shallow gasps. Her body feels like it’s on fire—every nerve alight with the intense pleasure that your fingers are pulling from her. She’s still trembling, her chest rising and falling erratically as she fights to stay grounded, but it’s slipping away from her with every passing second.

The mirror reflects everything—her flushed face, the way her thighs quiver, craving more of you, even though there’s nothing more to take. Her body tightens and relaxes, caught in a desperate struggle to maintain control over herself. But she’s slipping. She’s losing herself in you, in the way you fill her completely, in the overwhelming need that her body can’t seem to satiate.

Her thoughts blur, everything hazy and distant except for the overwhelming need that pulses through her. There’s no space for anything but the intense sensations, the pleasure so deep and raw it’s almost painful. Her mind can’t focus on anything but the feel of your fingers inside her, the way they stretch her, fill her, the pressure growing until it’s too much.

“I-I can’t—" Natasha gasps, her voice trembling as she tries to form a coherent sentence, but she can’t finish it. Her head falls back against your shoulder, her eyes slipping shut as her body jerks again, a sharp moan escaping her lips.

"You can," you murmur softly, your free hand sliding up to caress her thigh, your voice gentle yet firm. "You’re doing so well, Natty. Just breathe. Let go. I’ve got you."

Her breath catches at your words, the praise hitting her in a way that makes her twitch even more. It’s as if every word of encouragement digs deeper into her mind, making her desperate to please you. She wants to take more, to be good for you, to show you just how much she can handle, how much she needs you.

Her hips jerk forward again, her body trying to pull you even deeper, but it’s still not enough. It’s never enough.

"I want to... please you," Natasha whispers, her voice breathy and weak, barely audible above her own moans. Her fingers clench at the sheets, her body trembling uncontrollably as she rocks back against you, but she’s so far gone that she’s not even sure of what she’s asking anymore.

"You are pleasing me," you whisper, lips brushing against the soft skin of her neck. "You’re perfect, princess. You’re everything I want."

Her breath hitches, her heart pounding as she hears your words, and she can’t help the soft whimper that escapes her. The praise makes her head spin, makes her want more, makes her want to be everything for you.

As you worked her open, the world around you faded into a blur. Natasha’s breathy whimpers filled the space between you, mixing with the steady rhythm of your fingers. The burn and stretch she felt was becoming a delicious ache, one that ignited something deeper within her.

“Just a little more,” you coaxed, your voice a low murmur as you continued to move inside her. “You’re doing so well, Natty.” The praise slipped from your lips like honey, sweet and thick, wrapping around her as she began to surrender to the sensations.

With a deep inhale, Natasha’s eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, the tension in her body dissolved completely. She began to rock her hips, slowly at first, testing the waters, but soon it transformed into something more urgent, more desperate. You could feel the weight of her trust, a gift that was both intoxicating and thrilling.

Then, without warning, she surprised you. Natasha shifted her weight, driving your fingers deeper inside her as she began to ride them, her movements instinctive, almost primal. The way her body responded to you was mesmerising. Each rise and fall was a dance, her movements fluid and graceful, yet filled with an undeniable hunger.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, utterly captivated by the sight before you. The way she looked, the way she felt—it was overwhelming. The flush of her cheeks deepened, a beautiful shade of crimson, contrasting against the gentle curves of her body. Her eyes, once filled with uncertainty, now sparkled with a wild abandon that made your heart race.

With every thrust of her hips, you could feel the warmth of her surrounding your fingers, enveloping them in a slick, delicious heat. The way she took you deeper, riding your fingers like she was trying to chase down that elusive high—it sent a surge of primal instinct through you. You wanted to guide her, to push her further, but she was taking the lead, and you were powerless to stop it.

“Natasha,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

At your words, her eyes snapped open, locking onto yours in the mirror. There was a glint of something—was it pure submission?—in her gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. She looked so captivating, the way her body moved in tandem with your fingers, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the soft swell visible through her shirt. You could feel your pulse quicken, blood rushing to your ears as the sight of her lost in pleasure ignited a fire within you.

“Does it feel good?” you asked, wanting to hear her voice, to feel her pleasure wrap around you like a warm embrace.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice a breathless whisper. “So good.”

You could see the way her body tensed, the slight tremors that coursed through her as she adjusted to the rhythm. The way she leaned backward, pressing her back into your front, gave you an even better view of your fingers disappearing into her. Her sweat clung to her skin, highlighting the curves you wanted to worship.

“Just like that, Natty. You’re perfect.”

Her breath hitched at your words, and she pushed her hips down harder, eager to feel you filling her. Each time your fingers brushed against that sweet spot deep inside her, she gasped, the sound filled with pure ecstasy. The way she rode you, her body moving with both urgency and grace, was hypnotising. She wanted more, her mind hazy from the pleasure, she needed more.

“Look at yourself,” you urged, your voice low and sultry. “Look at how you’re losing yourself in this. How beautiful you are.”

As she gazed into the mirror, you saw a flicker of vulnerability, mixed with a newfound confidence. The tension in her body began to shift, the way she moved becoming more fluid, more assured. The flush on her cheeks deepened, and her mouth fell open in a long moan, the sound reverberating in the silence of the room.

“I—oh God,” she stuttered, her body beginning to tremble as you curled your fingers, hitting that sweet spot again and again. “I can’t… Please–I need more.”

“It’s  okay,” you reassured her, your voice steady, not knowing just how serious she was. “Just let go. Trust me, Natty.”

And as if your words had cast a spell, she surrendered completely. You could see it in her eyes—the moment she slipped into subspace. The tension that had held her so tightly began to unravel, the trust she placed in you lifting her higher than she’s ever been before.

“Please,” she begged, her voice thick with need. “I want more.”

You felt a surge of pride, knowing that you were the one to take her there, to help her explore these depths. “You want more, huh?” you teased lightly, relishing in the power dynamic that flowed between you.

“Yes,” she gasped, her hips working furiously against your hand, every movement driven by instinct. The way her body tightened around you, her walls squeezing your fingers, made your breath hitch in your throat.

“Such a good girl for me,” you praised, watching as her eyes fluttered closed once more, a blissful expression painting her features. The way she was losing herself, riding your fingers with reckless abandon, filled you with an overwhelming need to see her reach her peak.

“Keep going, Natty. I want to see you come undone,” you encouraged, your voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper that wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

With each thrust, you felt her teetering on the edge, her body trembling with pleasure. “I’m so close,” she panted, her voice shaking with need.

“Let go for me,” you urged, your fingers never faltering, coaxing her closer to that precipice. “You can do it. I’m right here.”

In that moment, you felt her walls tighten one last time, her body quaking as she finally surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over her. “I—oh God!” she cried, the sound filled with pure bliss as she fell over the edge.

As her orgasm washed over her, you could see the way her body tensed and relaxed, the euphoric release igniting every nerve ending. You held her tightly, guiding her through it, feeling every pulse, every quiver as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

Natasha was deep in subspace, the remnants of her first orgasm still coursing through her like a gentle wave. Her breaths were slow and steady, but the way she clung to you—her fingers gripping your arms tightly—betrayed the excitement bubbling beneath her surface. She was in a world all her own, a place where she felt safe, vulnerable, and strangely empowered.

You watched her through the mirror, captivated by the way her expression shifted from blissful surrender to a shy longing. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her eyes sparkled with something you recognized as desire, but there was a hesitation there, too. It was a mix of trust and uncertainty, and it only made you want her more.

“Can I…?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a shy eagerness. “Can I have your cock?”

The request sent a thrill through you. “You want my strap?” you asked, your voice low and teasing. You were ready to give her anything, but you wanted to draw out the moment, to enjoy this shift in power dynamics.

“Y-Yeah,” she stammered, biting her lip, her innocence suddenly seeming more pronounced in the heat of the moment. “Please?”

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “Alright. Just let me choose one for you.” You reached for the drawer to your left, excitement bubbling in your chest as you pulled out various options. As you displayed them, you couldn’t help but notice the way Natasha’s eyes widened and her breath quickened.

But when you picked up one of the smaller straps, she shook her head vigorously. “No! I want the biggest one.”

Your brows shot up in surprise. “The biggest one? Are you sure about that?” You hadn’t even used it before—it was something your friends had gifted you as a joke, but here was Natasha, deep in subspace and adamant about wanting it.

“I’m sure,” she insisted, her voice a mixture of shyness and determination, almost as if she was testing the boundaries of her own desires. The way she bit her lip again, uncertainty creeping into her gaze, made your heart race. “Please.”

You couldn’t resist her. There was something so endearing about her shy insistence, her innocence shining through even as she pushed her own limits. “Alright, then. It’s in the other drawer, baby. But you have to promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

“Promise,” she replied, her gaze unwavering, the trust in her eyes melting any reservations you had.

With a nod, she hopped off your lap, her legs slightly wobbly but her determination shining through. She moved to the drawer, reaching inside to retrieve the oversized strap. You couldn’t help but admire the way she handled it, her shyness somehow making her seem even more alluring.

When she returned, her cheeks were bright red, and her hands trembled slightly as she held the strap. “I want it,” she stated, her voice firm but still laced with a hint of innocence. You could see how deep into the mindset she was, yet her shyness made this moment feel even more intimate.

“Alright, sweetheart,” you said softly, your voice reassuring as you got up. “But let’s take it slow. I want you to enjoy every moment.”

After you had stepped into the harness and adjusted the 12-inch strap, you moved toward the bed, but Natasha lingered behind, not immediately following. Her blush deepened as she stood by the mirror, her gaze falling shyly before she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, “Can you... take me where I can see myself?”

Her words caught you off guard, but the longing in her eyes made your chest tighten. “Are you sure?” you asked softly, needing to ensure she was comfortable with what she was asking.

She nodded, her eyes flicking between you and the mirror. “I’m sure,” she breathed, her lips parting with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

You smiled, nodding as you guided her back to your previous position. Natasha settled onto your lap again, shifting just a bit higher onto your abs, her back pressed against your chest while the strap nestled against her stomach. The strap was secured snugly to your hips, its impressive length and girth nearly brushing her navel when she sat up straight. The sight alone made your pulse quicken, but you couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be able to take it all.

You rested your hands on her waist, offering a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go slow, okay?” you murmured, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

She bit her lip nervously, her eyes wide with both eagerness and hesitation as she moved up, situated herself and began to lower herself back down. The tip of the strap nudged against her entrance, and she let out a soft gasp, her thighs trembling with the effort.

“Relax, Nat,” you whispered, guiding her down slowly. “Breathe.”

She nodded, exhaling shakily as she sank down a little more, the stretch becoming apparent as she took in the first few inches. Her brow furrowed, her body tensing as she tried to adjust to the sensation. “It’s... it’s so big,” she stammered, her voice laced with both excitement and uncertainty.

“I know, sweetheart,” you reassured her, your hands steady on her waist. “You don’t have to take it all at once. Just take what you can.”

Natasha’s breath hitched as she lowered herself a bit more, her body stretching around the strap. The burn of the stretch was evident in the way her thighs quivered and her soft whimpers filled the air. She could barely take a quarter of it, and even then, she paused, her chest heaving with effort. The sheer girth of the strap made it appear enormous, and you were astonished she was able to take this much of you.

“You’re doing so well, Natty,” you praised, your voice gentle but filled with pride. “You don’t have to rush. You’re perfect like this.”

She exhaled slowly, nodding as she leaned back against you. “It feels... different,” she murmured, her hands gripping your arms for support. “But I like it. I just... I want to take more.”

Your breath caught at her words. “You will,” you said softly, brushing your lips against her shoulder. “But let’s go at your pace.”

For a few moments, she stayed there, hovering on the strap, her body adjusting to the stretch. The sight of her reflection in the mirror—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her body clung to the strap—was almost too much to handle. But you stayed focused, rubbing gentle circles into her hips to keep her grounded.

Then, as if something shifted in her, Natasha began to move again, slowly lowering herself down further. Inch by inch, she took more of you, her body trembling with the effort but her determination unwavering. You could feel her pulse around you, the heat of her arousal making every movement slicker, easier. Still, she hadn’t taken it all—just over halfway—and the sight of the strap glistening as it nestled within her was mesmerising. The sight of her slick coating the parts she hadn’t taken yet had you hypnotised, utterly drunk on desire.

“I... I can feel it,” she whimpered, her voice breathy and thick with pleasure. “I think I can take more.”

“You’re doing so well,” you murmured against her ear, your hands holding her steady as she tried to sink lower. “Just like that, Natty. You’re amazing.”

Time seemed to blur as she kept moving, her breath ragged, her movements tentative but eager. And then, after a while, you realised Natasha had been taking more and more of you. Your eyes flicked to the mirror, watching in awe as the strap slowly disappeared into her, the stretch making her body quiver with every inch.

She still hadn’t taken it all—just a quarter left—but the sight of her reflection, of how much of you was inside her, made your control slip.

“God, look at you,” you breathed, unable to hold back. Your hands slid from her waist, moving upwards to cup her breasts, kneading them gently as she moaned under your touch. “You’re so beautiful, Natty. Taking me so well.”

Her breath hitched as you massaged her breasts, her nipples hardening against your palms. “I... I’m trying so hard,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “I want to take it all... I want to please you.”

“You are,” you reassured her, your fingers teasing her nipples as you pressed your hips up slightly, deepening the stretch. “You’re doing so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, her body melting into your touch. She leaned back into your chest, her head resting on your shoulder as she focused on the sensation of you filling her up. The praise made her moan, her thighs shaking as she tried to sink down even further.

“Just a little more,” you coaxed, your voice husky. “You’ve got this. You’re perfect.”

Your gaze wandered back to the mirror, entranced by the image of Natasha’s flushed, needy expression and the reflection of your bodies joined together. But then something else caught your eye—a bulge pressing against her lower stomach. It was the outline of the strap inside her, stretching her so much that it was visible through her skin.

The sight made your breath catch, something primal snapping inside you. You hadn’t even realised how far you’d pushed her, how deep the strap had gone until you saw that bulge—and it ignited a fire in you that was impossible to contain.

Your grip on her breasts tightened momentarily, then slid down to her waist again. Natasha let out a soft gasp of confusion as your hands left her chest, only to clamp down firmly on her hips, pulling her down onto you in one swift, overwhelming motion.

Her eyes flew open, a sharp cry escaping her lips as her body was forced to take the rest of the strap all at once. The sheer girth stretched her impossibly wide, her thighs trembling violently as you thrust your hips up at the same time, slamming the last bit deep into her core.

“Fuck,” you groaned, the word dripping with unrestrained lust as you felt the full weight of Natasha's body sink down onto you. The strap filled her completely, the bulge in her stomach more pronounced now as you both struggled to breathe, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“I-I can feel it,” Natasha whimpered, her voice trembling as she struggled to catch her breath. “I can feel all of you.”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, your voice rough with desire. “Look at you... taking all of me.”

Natasha's head was against your shoulder, her eyes wide and unfocused as her entire body shook from the overwhelming sensation. She’d never felt this full before; the sensation made her feel like she was on the verge of breaking—and yet, the pleasure was undeniable. She loved it. The overwhelming stretch, the sheer size of the strap filled her in ways she’d never experienced. Her thighs shook violently, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps, and then you saw it—tears.

Her eyes, already glassy with pleasure, began to well as she lifted herself up and then sank fully back onto you. The tears spilled over, streaming down her flushed cheeks, her lips parted as soft, broken whimpers escaped her. She was so deep into subspace, so lost in the haze of sensation and submission that her body didn’t know how to react. All she could do was feel.

You watched her, completely captivated by the sight of her like this—so vulnerable, so beautiful, her skin glistening with sweat, her cheeks stained with tears. It made your heart ache with an almost possessive kind of affection.

“There you go,” you whispered, your voice low and tender as your hands moved from her waist to cup her cheeks, gently wiping away her tears with your fingers while using the reflection as a guide. “You’re doing so well, baby. Look at you, taking it all. You’re perfect.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to comprehend your words. The praise washed over her like a warm blanket, pulling her deeper into that fuzzy, blissed-out space. But the tears didn’t stop. If anything, they flowed even more freely now, her lips quivering as she let out another soft sob.

“Too much?” you asked, though you knew from the way her body clung to yours, the way she kept sinking down further and further, that she wasn’t going to stop. “Or do you like it, hmm? You like being so full of me?”

Her response was almost incoherent, a soft whimper and a nod, her head lolling against your shoulder as she tried to gather herself. The praise was affecting her so deeply, every word sinking into her foggy brain and amplifying the pleasure until she didn’t know what to do with herself.

But then you leaned closer, your lips brushing against her ear, and you let your voice dip into something more commanding, more degrading.

“Look at you,” you murmured, your tone taking on a sharper edge. “Crying just because you’re so full. You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? You can barely handle it, and yet here you are... taking all of me like a good girl.”

Natasha whimpered again, her entire body flushing deep red as the words cut through the haze in her mind. She didn’t fully understand them—her brain was too fuzzy, too far gone—but the tone, the way you said it, made her blush even harder. It was a mix of praise and something else, something darker, and it sent shivers down her spine.

“I... I’m trying,” she mumbled, her voice shaky, her lips trembling. “I’m trying so hard to be good.”

“You are good,” you reassured her, your hands moving back to her waist again, gripping her firmly as you pulled her down onto the strap again. “You’re so fucking good, Nat. So perfect for me. Taking it all like such a good girl.”

Her breath hitched as you moved her, her body too weak to resist, too deep in the pleasure to even think of stopping you. Her mind was spinning, her body trembling, and the tears kept flowing. She didn’t even know why she was crying anymore. Maybe it was the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely, or maybe it was the praise that made her heart ache with need.

“You’re so beautiful,” you continued, your voice softer now as you kissed the side of her neck, your hands still guiding her hips. “So beautiful when you cry for me.”

The tears kept coming, her body shaking with quiet sobs, but her hips kept moving, kept following your lead as you pushed her down again and again. She didn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. The pain and pleasure mixed together, a heady cocktail of sensations that had her spiralling deeper into submission.

“I don’t know if you can take me much longer,” you teased, your lips brushing against her ear as you spoke. “But you want to, don’t you? You want to be good for me.”

Natasha could barely form a response now, her head spinning with the intensity of it all. She nodded, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and need, her brain too fuzzy to process everything. But she knew one thing for certain: she wanted to make you happy. She wanted to please you, even if it meant pushing herself to the edge of her limits, even further than now.

“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, her head falling back against your shoulder. “I want to... I want to make you happy.”

“You are,” you murmured, your tone laced with approval as you squeezed her waist, your eyes glued to her reflection in the mirror. “You’re making me so happy, sweet angel. Look at yourself. Look how good you’re doing.”

Her gaze flicked to the mirror, and she moaned at the sight. The strap pushed deep inside her, creating a visible bulge in her stomach that moved with each thrust. Her skin was flushed, hair damp with sweat, and her cheeks streaked with tears. She looked completely wrecked—and yet, so incredibly beautiful.

“You see that?” you asked, your voice thick with lust as your hands slid up her stomach, pressing down on the bulge gently. “Look how full you are, baby. You’re so perfect like this.”

The praise, the sensation, everything was too much for her. Natasha’s mind was a blur of pleasure and pain, her body stretched beyond what she thought she could take, and yet she wanted more. She needed more. Even if her body was trembling, even if the tears wouldn’t stop, she needed to make you proud.

“I’m... I’m so full,” she whimpered, her hands resting right above yours on her lower stomach, feeling the bulge there, her face bright red as she looked at herself in the mirror. “It’s so much...”

“You can take it,” you growled, your hands moving from her waist to her breasts, massaging them roughly as you thrust your hips up again. “You’ve already taken all of me, Nat. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

The praise hit her like a tidal wave, making her moan as her body convulsed in your lap. She was too far gone to even process the words properly, her brain fuzzy and overwhelmed, but she nodded anyway, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she whispered, “Thank you...”

“Such a good girl,” you purred, your hands squeezing her breasts as your lips brushed against her ear again. “You love this, don’t you? Being full, being praised... You’re perfect, Nat. Absolutely perfect.”

Her body trembled at the words, her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a soft, broken sob. She didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to process all the feelings swirling inside her, but one thing stayed clear in her mind—she wanted to make you proud. She needed to. And she would.

Natasha’s body shuddered violently, her breath hitching in sharp, desperate gasps as she tried to stay grounded. But you could feel the way she was clenching around you, her inner muscles spasming uncontrollably as her body teetered on the edge.

You shifted your hips upward, thrusting the strap even deeper inside her. The rough movement sent a jolt through her entire body, and that was it—Natasha couldn’t hold on any longer. Her third orgasm ripped through her with devastating force, her legs trembling uncontrollably as she let out a loud, broken moan, her body convulsing in your lap.

“There it is,” you murmured, your voice thick with satisfaction as your hands tightened on her waist. “That’s it, Nat. You feel so good when you come for me.”

Natasha’s head lolled back against your shoulder, her body sagging against yours as she came hard, her walls tightening around the strap, her muscles clenching and releasing in frantic waves. Her hands scrabbled for purchase, one gripping your thigh while the other pressed against the mirror as if trying to steady herself, but she couldn’t. She was completely lost in it.

The tears that were already spilling down her cheeks came faster now, mingling with the sweat that coated her skin, her lips trembling as sobs of pleasure wracked her body. She was overwhelmed, her mind completely submerged in the sensation, but even through the haze of subspace, she kept moving—kept riding your strap, desperate to please you, desperate to be good.

“There you go,” you whispered, guiding her gently as she shook in your lap. “Just let go. I’ve got you.”

The praise sent another wave of pleasure crashing through her, and she moaned, her body responding without thought, without control. Her hips bucked, the muscles in her thighs spasming as her fourth orgasm hit her before she had fully come down from the previous one. It was too much. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t stop her body from convulsing as she rode out the wave after wave of pleasure that seemed to keep rolling through her.

“Oh god, oh god,” Natasha gasped, her voice barely audible between her sobs. “I can’t... I can’t stop...”

“You don’t need to stop,” you reassured her, your voice low and soothing even as your hands gripped her tighter, pulling her back onto your strap as she tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re perfect.”

Her sobs turned to wails, absolute filth escaping her mouth, her entire body trembling as her next orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t hold herself together anymore, her body completely out of her control. Her hips jerked, moving on instinct as she ground down against you, her walls squeezing the strap so tightly that you could feel the tension all the way through your core.

The sight of her in the mirror drove you wild—the way her stomach bulged from the size of the strap, her breasts bouncing with each desperate movement, and the tears that continued to spill down her cheeks. She looked utterly destroyed, so beautifully wrecked, her skin flushed and glistening, her lips parted as broken moans and whimpers slipped from her mouth.

“Fuck, look at you,” you growled, your hands exploring every inch of her skin, fingers digging into her softness as you continued to thrust deeper with increasing force. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Nat. You’re so full.”

Natasha just whimpered, her breath hitching as her body responded to your rougher touch. She was so deep in subspace now, so far gone, that she couldn’t even register the words you were saying, but she could feel them—the way they made her body react, the way her muscles tightened and trembled under your hands. She nodded, her head falling forward, her eyes glassy and distant as she let out another soft sob.

“I... I want to be good,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath as she tried to steady herself. “I want... I want to make you happy.”

“You are good,” you whispered back, your voice a mix of praise and possessiveness as you kept pulling her down harder onto the strap. “You’re fucking perfect, Nat. You’re making me so proud.”

The praise sent another wave of pleasure crashing through her, and suddenly, Natasha was coming again—her body convulsing in your lap as her next orgasm hit her with even more intensity than the last. Her hands pressed against the mirror, her palms flat against the glass as she sobbed, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

“You’re doing so good,” you murmured, your hands sliding up from her waist to her breasts again, squeezing them as she convulsed in your lap. “Look at you. Look at how beautiful you are when you come.”

Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze fixing on the mirror, and the sight of herself—flushed, sweaty, tear-streaked, and utterly wrecked—sent another shudder through her. She moaned, her hips jerking as her body tried to keep up with the pleasure, her mind too fuzzy to process it all.

“I... I still can’t stop,” she whimpered, her voice thick with need. “It’s too much...”

“I know, baby,” you cooed, your voice dripping with approval as you massaged her breasts, your thumbs brushing over her nipples. “You’re doing so good. Just let go. Let me take care of you.”

Her body obeyed without question, her hips moving on their own as she sank down onto the strap again, her walls clenching around it as another orgasm built inside her. She was completely lost to it now, her mind a haze of pleasure and submission, her body trembling as she came again and again, each orgasm rolling into the next until she didn’t know where one ended and the other began.

“Such a good girl,” you murmured, your hands sliding down to her waist again as you thrust up into her with more force. “You’re taking me so well, Nat. You’re perfect.”

Natasha’s response was a soft, broken sob, her body collapsing against you as the pleasure overwhelmed her completely. She was gone, completely lost in subspace, her mind a blur of sensations and praise, and all she could do was ride it out, her body trembling in your lap as you guided her through each wave of pleasure.

Natasha’s body continued to tremble against yours, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps, her chest heaving with the effort. The storm of pleasure was still coursing through her, but her hips had stilled, no longer able to move after the relentless waves of orgasms that had wracked her body.

You could feel the twitching of her muscles, the way her body clenched around the strap still buried deep inside her, but she wasn’t grinding and you weren’t thrusting anymore. She was utterly spent, her head resting against your shoulder, her tears still trickling down her flushed cheeks as she tried to catch her breath.

Gently, you loosened your grip on her waist, moving your hands with deliberate care as you wrapped your arms around her trembling form. Natasha whimpered softly as you pulled her close, her body still so sensitive, every slight movement sending aftershocks rippling through her.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, your voice soft and soothing now, a stark contrast to the intensity that had filled the air just moments before. “You did so good, Natty baby. Just breathe.”

Natasha’s body relaxed a little in your hold, though she was still shaking, her limbs twitching with the lingering ecstasy that coursed through her. She made a small, broken sound—half a sob, half a whimper—as her body gave in fully, collapsing against you, completely spent. You cradled her carefully, holding her close, one hand stroking her arm while the other stayed on her breast, grounding her in your touch.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered again, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “You’re safe. You’re perfect.”

She let out a shaky breath, her head lolling to the side as her eyes fluttered closed, her mind still foggy from the intensity of everything. You could feel the way her heartbeat was gradually slowing, the frantic rhythm calming as you continued to hold her, shushing her softly, letting her know she wasn’t alone in this vulnerable moment.

Your hand on her breast moved gently, tracing soft circles around her nipple, a grounding sensation to remind her she was safe in your arms. Her body twitched under your touch, her chest still heaving, but she didn’t try to move away. She stayed nestled against you, letting the warmth of your embrace calm her.

“You’re okay, Natty,” you murmured softly, your lips brushing against her ear. “Just stay with me. I’ve got you.”

She nodded weakly, her body sagging further into your lap, her legs spread open as she remained impaled on the strap. It was a quiet, intimate moment now—no longer about the intensity of lust but about something deeper, more tender. Her body was twitching from the aftershocks, the occasional clench around the strap still reminding you of how deep you were inside her, but she wasn’t trying to take more. She was just… being.

Natasha let out another shaky breath, her fingers gripping your arm as if to anchor herself. The tears that had been flowing earlier were slowing, but her face remained wet, her cheeks flushed and streaked with saltwater. You watched her closely in the mirror, your gaze softening as you took in the sight of her—completely vulnerable, completely yours.

“There you go,” you whispered, brushing your thumb gently across her cheek, wiping away the remnants of her tears. “You’re so beautiful, Natty. So perfect.”

She whimpered softly at the praise, her eyes fluttering open for just a moment before they closed again. Her breathing was slowly evening out, the shaky gasps becoming steadier as you held her close, your hands moving in gentle, soothing motions. You could feel her muscles slowly unclenching, her body relaxing into you, no longer overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure.

“It’s okay now,” you whispered, resting your chin on her shoulder as you held her tighter. “Just breathe with me.”

You stayed like that for a while, the two of you wrapped in each other, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your quiet breaths and the faint hum of the world outside. The strap was still inside her, but it was a comfort—something grounding for her as she came down from the high of subspace.

Natasha’s body, though still trembling, seemed to relax even further, her head turning slightly as she nestled into your neck. She was quiet now, her soft whimpers replaced with gentle sighs, her body twitching occasionally but no longer driven by the need to move. She was content to just be held, to let you take care of her.

You pressed another soft kiss to her hair, your hands still stroking her arms and chest, reminding her that you were there—that you had her.

“You’re so good for me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, a quiet affirmation that she didn’t need to do anything more. “So perfect, Nat. I’m so proud of you.”

Her response was a quiet, barely-there hum, her body settling even more as she melted into your embrace. The tension was gone now, replaced with a soft, languid peace that settled over both of you. You could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, the way her back moved against yours, and it grounded you just as much as it did her.

You cradled Natasha in your arms for what felt like forever, the quiet comfort between you speaking louder than any words. She was completely limp, her body heavy against yours, her breaths soft and steady now.

After a while, you pressed a soft kiss to her temple and whispered gently, “I should clean you up, baby. Let me run you a bath.”

Natasha hummed in disagreement, her head shaking slightly as she leaned further into you, her eyes still closed. She wasn’t ready to move, wasn’t ready to let go of the feeling of you inside her, keeping her grounded and safe. You smiled softly at her stubbornness, her bratty behaviour making you shake your head in amusement. The bulge in her stomach, still there and almost casual now, was like a silent reminder that this wasn’t the last time something like this would happen whenever she decided to brat out.

You chuckled again, warmth spreading through your chest. She was so beautiful, so perfect, and you loved her even more in these quiet, vulnerable moments.

“Alright, alright,” you murmured, running your hand gently along her side, “we’ll stay here for a bit longer. But when you’re ready, I’m cleaning you up.”

Natasha didn’t respond, just snuggled deeper into you, her body still. Her face was completely relaxed, her lips parted slightly as she rested against you, lost in the lingering haze of subspace. You held her close, stroking her arm softly as you watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, content to stay like this for as long as she needed.

It was about ten minutes later when you felt her stir. A faint wince crossed her face as she shifted in your lap, her muscles clearly starting to ache after the intense session. She let out a small, pained whimper, her brow furrowing as she tried to move slightly, the soreness settling in.

You kissed her head gently, your voice soft and reassuring. “Ready for that bath now?”

This time, she didn’t protest. She nodded weakly, her eyes still closed but her body slowly coming back to her as she let out a quiet, “Mhm.”

You helped her sit up, your hands gentle as you guided her, though even the small movement made her wince again. As Natasha began to lift herself off the strap, you couldn’t help but groan at the sight. She was slightly gaping, her body clearly feeling the aftereffects of the stretch, and the sight was enough to make your stomach twist with desire all over again.

Natasha blushed deeply, her cheeks flushed a soft pink as she noticed your reaction. You saw her glance in the mirror, catching the way her body looked before quickly averting her gaze, embarrassed but unable to hide the small, sheepish smile playing on her lips.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice a little rough from the sight of her. Natasha’s blush deepened, and she looked away again, biting her lip in that shy, adorable way she did when she was overwhelmed with praise.

You discarded the toy to the side, knowing you’d deal with it later. Right now, Natasha was your priority, and aftercare was the only thing on your mind.

“Come here, Nat,” you whispered, helping her to her feet and wrapping an arm around her waist to support her. She wobbled slightly, her legs weak from the intensity of everything, but you held her steady, guiding her slowly toward the bathroom.

Once you had the bath running, you sat her down on the edge of the tub, kneeling in front of her as you gently cleaned her up, wiping away the remnants of the session with a soft, damp cloth. Natasha was quiet, her eyes half-lidded as she watched you with a tired, hazy gaze, her body still relaxed in the warmth of your presence.

“You’re doing so good,” you murmured as you cleaned her, your hands gentle and careful. “I’m so proud of you, Nat.”

She let out a soft hum in response, her cheeks still a little pink from earlier, but she didn’t try to speak. She was too exhausted, too deep in the afterglow to do anything but watch you with that sleepy, content look on her face.

Once the bath was ready, you helped her into the warm water, holding her hand as she slowly sank into the tub, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as the heat soothed her aching muscles. You stayed by her side, your fingers tracing soft patterns along her arm, watching as she closed her eyes and leaned back against the edge of the tub.

“Are you feeling better?” you asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Natasha nodded, her lips curving into a small, tired smile. “Mhm,” she mumbled, her voice soft but hoarse from all the moaning and gasping earlier.

You chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good.”

For the next while, you stayed with her, washing her hair gently, your hands careful as you massaged her scalp, the soothing motions helping to relax her even more. Natasha let out quiet, contented sighs every now and then, her body completely at ease in your care.

When the bath was over, you wrapped her in a soft towel, drying her off gently before helping her into a comfortable, oversized shirt. She was still quiet, her movements slow and sleepy, but she leaned into your touch every chance she got, seeking out your warmth and comfort.

You led her back to the bedroom, guiding her under the covers before climbing in beside her. As soon as you settled in, Natasha curled into your side, her head resting on your chest, her arms wrapping around you as she let out a soft, contented sigh.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the gratitude in her tone was clear.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around her and holding her close. “Always, Natty,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. “I’ll always take care of you.”

She hummed softly in response, already drifting off to sleep in your arms, her body finally fully at peace.

a/n- i need to start writing shorter fics oh my god. thanks for reading!

[rosemariiaa]

~Lasts Firsts~

pairing: Paige x Azzi

a/n: yes i did lose my mind writing this but i had to! this is also my apology for the last fic.. 🤗 this is pretty long so take your time babe, also some tags @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @bueckerscore @juspeaks

themes: fluff, teasing

Enjoy!!!

It was barely 8:00 AM when Paige rolled over, her arm draping across the empty space next to her. She blinked into the early morning light, trying to shake off the sleep. She could already hear Azzi in the bathroom, humming softly, the sound so familiar it brought a small smile to her lips.

Last media day together.

The thought lingered like a weight on her chest, bittersweet and heavy. She dragged herself out of bed, feeling that familiar ache in her muscles from practice the day before, and made her way to the bathroom.

Azzi was standing in front of the mirror, twisting one of her curls between her fingers. Paige leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her girlfriend’s morning routine—how peaceful she looked, even though they both knew today was going to be pretty emotional.

“Ready for the chaos?” Paige mumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep.

Azzi turned her head, giving Paige that small smile she always had when she knew Paige was nervous about something. “You asking me or yourself?”

Paige snorted, stepping closer until she was leaning against the counter beside Azzi. “Both, I guess.”

They didn’t say much after that, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Paige stared at her reflection for a moment, the weight of everything finally sinking in. Last media day, last season. After this? The WNBA.

“You think we’ll survive?” Paige asked quietly, her tone light but not really joking. Azzi met her eyes in the mirror, and for a second, Paige saw all the emotions they hadn’t really said out loud. There was excitement, sure, but underneath it was that uncertainty, the looming unknown of what came next.

“Paige,” Azzi said, her voice softer than usual. “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine. You’ve been ready for this.”

Paige didn’t respond at first, just dropped her gaze to the sink. She’d been thinking about this a lot more than she’d let on. The WNBA wasn’t just another level—it was the next chapter of her life. And as much as she knew she wanted it, there was a part of her that was terrified.

“What if I’m not, though?” Paige’s voice came out quieter than she meant. “What if I mess this up? I mean… WNBA? That’s a whole new ballgame.”

Azzi turned around fully now, leaning her hip against the counter. She reached out, gently grabbing Paige’s wrist, thumb brushing over her skin in that way that always calmed her down.

“You’ve been playing against pros for years, P. You’re gonna go in there and do exactly what you do best. And… don’t forget you’ll be up against Diana, you’re probably gonna block her shots and then she’ll talk all kinds of shit you know how she gets,” Azzi teased, trying to pull Paige out of her thoughts.

Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “I can’t wait for Diana to “hate” me.” Azzi smirked. “Just don’t embarrass her too much.”

“Oh, I will. But not before embarrassing your Aces,” Paige shot back, her grin widening as Azzi’s eyes narrowed in mock warning.

“Excuse me?” Azzi gasped dramatically. “You better not mess with my team. If you even think about beating them, I’ll fly out there and beat you up.”

Paige laughed, leaning into Azzi, her forehead resting against hers. “You’re cute when you threaten me.”

“Not a threat, babe,” Azzi replied, her smile softening as she tilted her head just slightly, brushing her nose against Paige’s. “I’m dead serious. Leave the Aces alone.”

Paige wrapped her arms loosely around Azzi’s waist, finally letting herself breathe. For a second, she could forget about the future. It was just the two of them again, standing in their shared apartment, holding on to each other before the world outside came rushing in.

———-

By the time they arrived in the gym, the chaos was already in full swing, with half the girls making tiktok’s and going crazy per usual. The cameras, the bright lights, the reporters—it was all routine by now, but this time, everything felt heightened. It was their last one. The final first.

Paige watched as Azzi stepped in front of the camera, her expression automatically settling into her “game face,” the serious one she always had before interviews. Paige stood to the side, arms crossed, watching with amusement.

“You look like you’re about to kill somebody,” she muttered under her breath as she moved to stand beside Azzi for their photos. Azzi shot her a look. “I’m just focused.”

“Focused on terrifying everyone,” Paige teased, nudging her with her shoulder.

Azzi tried not to smile, but it broke through anyway, and Paige could feel the tension between them melt a little as they fell into the easy rhythm of their chemistry. They took their usual photos, Paige throwing her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, and their traditional piggyback pose, the same way they’ve done a thousand times before. But this time, the air between them felt different—heavier, full of all the memories they shared.

After the cameras stopped flashing, they hung back for a bit, watching the rest of the team get their moments in front of the lens.

“This feels… weird, right?” Paige said, her voice a little quieter now.

Azzi just nodded. “Yeah. But… it’s also kinda nice, knowing we did this together.”

Paige looked at her, her chest tightening with that familiar feeling of bittersweetness. “You’re gonna make me cry.” Azzi gave her a teasing smirk. “That’s my plan.”

———-

The media day madness finally wrapped up, and before Azzi could even think about unwinding, Paige had dragged her back home with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What are you planning, Bueckers?” Azzi asked, standing in the doorway of their apartment, her arms crossed. “You’ll see. Just get dressed,” Paige said with a grin, shooing her toward the bedroom.

Azzi rolled her eyes but went along with it, emerging a few minutes later in the white tube top with Paige’s pink cover-up and those low-waisted jeans that Paige always went quiet about. She gave a little twirl, watching Paige’s eyes darken slightly.

“Stole my clothes again, huh?” Paige asked, leaning against the wall, trying to look unfazed.

Azzi smirked. “You love it.”

Paige just shook her head. “Get in the car, weirdo.”

They spent the car ride to the restaurant in comfortable silence, the only sound being Paige’s playlist—songs she’d carefully picked over the years, ones that always made her think of Azzi. At some point, Mitski came on, and Azzi hummed softly to the tune, stealing glances at Paige, who was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

“So, P,” Azzi started casually, “how nervous are you to play against Diana?”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not nervous are ut playing against Diana. I’m nervous about her kicking my ass after I block her.” Azzi laughed, the sound light and warm. “She probably will. I’ll be sitting courtside, watching her destroy you.”

“Thanks for the support babe,” Paige muttered, but she was smiling. Azzi always knew how to pull her out of her head when she got too wrapped up in her own thoughts.

“And just remember,” Azzi said, her tone a little more serious but still playful, “if you mess with the Aces, I will find you madison.”

Paige threw her a sideways glance. “Oh, I know. You won’t have to find me—I’ll be waiting for you.”

Azzi grinned. “You better be.”

———-

When they got to the restaurant, Paige made sure they sat in a booth—one where she could sit across from Azzi and just look at her. It wasn’t the most subtle thing in the world, but Paige didn’t care. Azzi caught on, of course, giving her a raised eyebrow.

“What? I just like looking at you,” Paige said with a shrug, grinning like she hadn’t just been caught.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”

They were mid-conversation when the waiter came over, a girl with a bright smile who seemed way too interested in Azzi. Paige noticed immediately, her smile dropping slightly as the woman complimented Azzi’s hair, her outfit, even her smile. Azzi, as usual, was completely oblivious.

“Thanks,” Azzi said, flashing the girl a casual smile, but Paige could see what was going on, and it annoyed her just enough to act on it.

Without a second thought, Paige reached across the table, placing her hand firmly over Azzi’s. The waiter glanced down, her smile faltering as she realized the situation, quickly taking their order and backing off with a stiff nod.

Azzi blinked, glancing down at their hands before looking back up at Paige with an amused expression. “Was that jealousy?” Paige scoffed. “No, that was me stopping her from embarrassing herself.”

Azzi grinned, squeezing Paige’s hand. “Uh-huh. Sure, Paige.”

After dinner, the laughter between them hadn’t stopped. Even as they waved goodbye to their server, still teasing each other about that moment of jealousy, the warmth between them stayed, making the whole night feel like a dream.

Azzi didn’t even bother pulling out her card when the check arrived. The second she started reaching for her wallet, Paige shot her a look, the kind of look that said, don’t even think about it. Azzi had seen that look so many times before and just grinned, leaning back in her seat as Paige effortlessly snatched the check, sliding her own card inside before Azzi even got a chance to protest.

“Every time?” Azzi asked, her tone half-amused, half-resigned.

Paige just shrugged, a cocky smile on her lips. “I like spoiling you. What can I say?”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the truth was she loved it too. It was a Paige thing—doing little things like this without asking, always showing she cared in her own way.

After they walked out of the restaurant, Paige naturally slipped her arm around Azzi’s waist like she always did. It wasn’t even a conscious move anymore; it was just how Paige was. Her hand rested comfortably against Azzi’s side, pulling her a little closer as they walked down the quiet street. Azzi leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth from Paige’s body and the comfort that always came with being this close.

Paige’s grip was gentle but firm, protective in a way that Azzi had always loved. It was something Paige did, even when she didn’t realize it—holding her close, like she was making sure Azzi knew she was always there, no matter what. It made Azzi smile, thinking about how many times Paige had held her like this over the years, whether after a tough game, during quiet moments between them, or just walking down the street like this.

They kept walking, laughing softly, the cool night air brushing against their faces, but neither of them seemed to notice. Everything felt easy between them, and Paige, in her usual way, kept the conversation light. Azzi could tell Paige was doing it on purpose, making her laugh to keep them from thinking too much about all the changes on the horizon.

They were about halfway to the car when Azzi suddenly slowed her pace, and Paige’s arm tightened slightly around her waist, glancing over with a curious look.

“You okay?” Paige asked, her voice casual but her gaze full of affection.

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She stopped, turning toward Paige and stepping in closer. Paige’s arm never left her waist, holding her in place like she always did, her body warm against Azzi’s side. Azzi stared at Paige for a long moment, just taking her in—the messy hair, the soft smile, the way she was always so present, so hers.

“I love you,” Azzi said suddenly, her voice soft but full of all the emotion she had been holding in. It wasn’t planned—it just came out, like it had been sitting on her chest, waiting for the right moment.

Paige blinked, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes softened. Her hand on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly, pulling her just a bit closer. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice gentle, almost like she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to hear those words.

They both stood there for a second, letting the words hang between them. Then, without thinking, Azzi reached up and cupped Paige’s face, pulling her in for a kiss. Paige didn’t hesitate, meeting her halfway, her lips soft and warm as they kissed in the middle of the street, the world around them fading away.

Paige’s arm stayed wrapped securely around Azzi’s waist as their kiss deepened, and it felt like everything else just melted away. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was slow and full of love, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.

Azzi could feel Paige’s heartbeat against her own, steady and strong, and she knew, in that moment, that no matter what happened, no matter how far apart they might be in the future, they’d always have this. They’d always have each other.

When they finally pulled back, Paige’s forehead rested against Azzi’s, their breaths mixing in the cool night air. Paige smiled, her hand gently caressing Azzi’s side. “You’re stuck with me, you know that?” she whispered, her voice teasing but full of love.

Azzi grinned, her thumb tracing along Paige’s cheek. “Forever.”

———-

yeaa…that was a lot and so darn cute 🥹

[jockwrites]

DIE FOR ME - p.b

warnings: sexual content (reader receiving, strap LOL) angst if you squint, cursing, pet names? i guess?

a/n: not spell checked & english isn’t my first language, lmk how i did :-)

"good God."

those were the last words you heard Paige say before she stormed out of your apartment.

previously, the two of you had been arguing over the fact that for these past two weeks, you'd been suspecting cheating.

today, the topic had been brought back up when she came to your apartment late after practice. even though she'd told you she would be there immediately after. honestly, you just couldn't understand what's been keeping her away from you so fucking late.

you wanna decide to call it a night after she just stormed the fuck out, but you need to find out what's been happening. that's when you decide to find out for yourself.

you put on a jacket over your shorts and tee, grab your keys and head out.

while walking, you decide to check her location. and what do you know, it’s off.

this pissed you cleannnn off. & with your pace becoming faster and faster with each second that passes, her dorms come into view. you don’t waste a second getting into that building.

you hurrily walk to the elevator, eager to get up to that room.

as soon as you make it, not only do you knock once, but twice. and not a single peep heard from behind that door.

as you begin to knock again, the door opens. and it’s her. you’re outraged, angry, so many words to describe your feelings as of right now.

“why the hell is your location off,” you bickered, “and why didn’t you answer the door when i knocked the first TWO times?”

paige just stood there. she didn’t say a word, and this is what made you more frustrated.

as you’re going on and on about how furious you are, paige grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the apartment. she doesn’t say a word to you.

she pushes you against the wall, kissing your neck. and this, this put you into a trance you probably wouldn’t be able to get yourself out of.

her touch becomes more aggressive as you push on her chest, trying to get her to stop. right now you’re serious. but she’s irresistible

“are you pushing me away?” paige whispers into your neck.

“so now you wanna talk..” you scoff, breathing heavy.

“there’s nothing to say. you’re just delusional. you get these petty accusations, put them onto me, then expect me to just sit there and take it.” she slides her hand dangerously low down your shorts.

“i don’t expe..” you’re cut off by her fingers sliding into you.

“i don’t understand why you wanna start shit so bad,” her words sharp, vibrating into your neck as her kisses go lower and her pace increasing. “because if you want me to be a ‘bitch’, i can.”

“you just..” she grabs your right boob, groping as her fingers curl into you while kissing your jawline, leaving hickeys that’ll probably be there for the next day or two. “you just think shit is a game. it isn’t.”

“paige.. that’s not-“ you moan breathlessly, your words cut off by her lips colliding with yours.

“no no.. i know exactly what you’re trying to do.”

you love it when she’s like this. all mad & messed up when it comes to you, damn.

“maybe we should just drop it.” you begged, the pleasure and anger she’s bringing to you becoming overstimulating. you don’t know if she’s mad or horny. maybe both.

“you’re such a fucking brat,” she jeered, “you start shit but can’t finish it.”

her fingers are now pumping faster, her other hand coming up to the side of your neck. she’s practically choking you.

arguing and sex isn’t something you thought you’d been missing out on, guess you were wrong.

“fuck. paige. im sorry, i wasn’t trying to.”

“there’s no time for apologies. you did this shit.” she huffs, pulling her fingers out of you.

she licks them clean, looking you dead in the eyes. you’re left with an unfinished orgasm and now you’re aching for her touch. all that’s left is to see what’s she gonna do next.

“go.” she tempted.

“what? where?”

“in the fucking room. go.”

you walk to the room, opening the door. you see her messy bed, clothes on the floor, shoes everywhere and her phone. the phone you’ve been eager to check.

you sit on the bed, taking off your jacket. you slip off your shoes and throw them in a random corner while waiting for paige.

she walks in the room with nothing but a sports bra and white basketball shorts. she looks good, but heated.

she starts to walk toward you slowly with that look. that look, as if you’re some kind of prey.

“you done being a brat?” she whispers.

“i wasn’t being a brat in the first fucking place,” you sassed. “you’re just crazy.”

that’s when she walks over, pushing you down onto the bed. she’s hovering over you, angry and tempted.

“you thinks it’s okay to just act like a bitch all the time? accusing me of shit you know damn well i haven’t done?” now she’s mad. you’ve pushed her to her limits.

“take them off” she snarled, her eyes roaming to your shorts.

you quickly abide, slipping off your shorts. you already know the timing she’s on.

she takes off hers as well, revealing the purple strap harnessed to her.

“what. is that.” you panted. she’s never fucked you with a strap-on before, her fingers and mouth is just enough for you.

“what do you think it is?” she’s trying to be funny but you’ve never experienced anything like this before. you’re a virgin to “dick.”

“i’ve never- done this before.” you manage to breathe out. even though it’s scary, you want it. you want it to be with her, nobody else.

“you wanna do it? we don’t have to baby.” she gazes at you softly. it’s so attractive how she can go from mean to sweet. you love it.

“yeah, but only with you.” and as soon as those words left your mouth, her eyes went from a bright blue to grey.

she pulls your panties down your legs, revealing your soaked pussy.

“so wet for me already baby,” she purred, “not like this for anybody else hmm?”

“no, never.” you breathed as paige rubbed the tip of the plastic over your wet clit.

“fuck,” she urged “you know you can be a bitch sometimes?” she slides the strap into you, going at a slow pace.

“fuck- mm, i know pai..” you can’t manage to get words out at this point. the pleasure is unbearable.

as her pace speeds up, she grabs your legs, pulling them over her shoulders & around her neck.

as she hovers over you while fucking you senseless in missionary, she pulls her right arm over to rub your clit.

“you think i’d do this with another girl? huh?” she groans.

“HOLY SHIT. paige oh my-“ you whine.

“fuck,” she says, her pace speeding up. “you think im out here fucking other bitches senseless?”

she speeds up, pounding into you with the purple plastic. she removes her hand from your clit, inserting the thumb she used between your lips.

“fuck paige! shit im gonna cum” you moan.

“answer me. you think im doing that shit?” she growls.

she starts to go faster and faster, pumping in and out of you like a mad man.

“no pai- FUCK!” you panted.

“based on those fucking accusations,” she heaved, “you seem to be pretty stuck on that fucking- fuck. stuck on that ‘cheating’ shit.” she groaned. with every second that passes, she speeds up. seems like she’s angry.

“paige. im gonna CUM. OHSHIT” you whimper. the pleasure is starting to become overwhelming.

“then cum baby.” she leans down, whispering in your ear.

paige speeds up more and more, hitting the spot that makes you release all over “her.”

“you okay baby?” she says, collapsing beside you.

“you’re good at that.” you breathed.

she turns over to look at you, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“i love you, so much. you see the shit i just did? wouldn’t be caught dead doing that to someone else. i’d die for you.”

a/n: hi im stopping here bc idk what else to write. this isn’t rlly that good so if u have requests or suggestions (constructive criticism) i’d be happy to take them! ty for reading if u even made it this far, byebye

[barcaatthemoon]

“i’d like u to spend the week with me” , lucy bronze :)

communicative || lucy bronze x reader ||

Getting back together with Lucy was weird. It had been almost 15 year since you had broken up. Both of you had been through a lot since then and had many opportunities to become different people. And in some ways, you were both completely different, but some things never changed. It seemed like there were some habits neither of you could shake, and for Lucy, the one that stuck out the most was how pouty she tended to get.

"Stop looking at me like that," you said as you glanced at Lucy's reflection. You were getting ready for your first little interview since you'd announced as the head coach for England's rugby team.

"Like what? I'm not doing anything, that's just my face," Lucy huffed. You turned around to fully face her, knowing that wasn't the case. Lucy was pouting at you, just like she had been since you told her that you were going back to your place at the end of today.

"No, you're pouting because you want something that you're too proud to admit. I won't play this guessing game anymore, just say what you want from me," you told her. Lucy glanced down for a moment, almost like she was embarrassed. "Come on, we both have to communicate, and now it's your turn."

"I don't want you to leave. It's like you just got here, and so much of your time has been taken up by everybody else. I'd like you to spend the week with me, that's all." Lucy bit her lip as she waited for your reaction. The first time around, Lucy had been terrified of being clingy with you, so she pushed you away. You were secure enough in yourself now that she couldn't do that, not when it had factored so heavily into your breakup before.

"I still have to run home and grab some clothes, but I'll come back. Better yet, you can take me tomorrow after your practice is over. See how easy it is to get your way when you don't act like a little baby?" you asked teasingly. Lucy scoffed and sat up to tug you into bed with her. She was about to try and make out with you, but you reluctantly stopped her. "I'm not redoing my makeup, nor do I trust you to fix what you fuck up."

"Fine, but I want kisses when you're done."

[galaxostars]

prongsfoot and wolfstar in the last chapter of Presque Vu by @starsworth

[the-meme-monarch]

huh sorry for disappearing for like a day and a half. a weird guy appeared

[milliesfishes]

hii same anon again! feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this ofc - but a perfect lake day with coryo but then you can tell something’s off. he then finally tells you about how he was reassigned to district two and doesn’t have any choice but to go and you two are both so heartbroken. and then maybe having to actually say goodbye? :’) guess i want to cry lol

⋆౨ৎ𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓻 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝔂𝓸 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼 𝓾𝓹 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾⋆౨ৎ 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓷𝓸𝔀

Coriolanus’ lips found your fingers clasped with his hand, and you smiled slow and soft like sunlight. His other arm was resting lazily over your hips, the weight a comforting thing as his chest supported your back. It was perfect. Everything about it was perfect.

Truthfully, you loved every allotted day off he spent with you. It was a treasure amidst a sea of mundane days filled with labor and exhaustion. He smoothed every rough spot for you, made every ordinary trouble melt away.

Turning in his arms, you let your cheek fall against his chest, the metal of his dog tags cool from your time in the lake. Many a time you had fallen asleep with the rectangles pressed to your skin and awoken with his blood type imprinted there.

He let you move against him, quiet and stoic as always. Today in particular he'd been reserved but you assumed it was stress, not minding the lack of talk. Only when you were settled did he adjust his arms, one large hand splaying over your bare back. You hadn’t bothered to redress, and nor did he.

It was funny- a month ago he would have had his clothes on immediately after drying off, wary of the surroundings of nature he was so unfamiliar with. Now he sat upright, not against the tree like anyone from town would have done, but it didn’t matter. As long as you fit between his arms nothing else mattered.

Picking at the blanket underneath, you murmured, “I hope it can always be like this.” A bird’s whistle carried from the trees, flung out into the expanse of the glassy lake. His fingers stilled where they had been roving up and down, causing you to look up at him, meet his stormy blue eyes.

Right now, they were filled with thunderclouds of oceanic magnitude, and you sat up straight, brow knitting. Was he upset? Worried about something? "Coryo?"

The lake lapped calmly at the pebbly shore, the opposite of the mass of dread circulating and hardening in your chest. It was a buildup; you knew it was. He kept your fingers laced with his when he murmured, "I'm being transferred."

It felt as though someone had shoved you off the edge of something dark and looming, and now your body was flailing helplessly, plummeting to the jagged rocks of the unknown. Hovering clouds darkened the spot of sunshine you'd been lying in, and goosebumps rippled over your arms.

"Transferred?" You could only manage the single word, trying to leave out the accompanying emotions. Your efforts were in vain.

He gave a single nod, and you let out a little breath, looking away. The only that could have shocked you more than meeting was him leaving you. He'd looked so out of place that first night at the Hob, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.

It was hardly the same man staring back at you now, the lines of his face stiffened.

You sat all the way up, moving closer to him, knees pushing his thighs further apart. He took your hips again, trying to get you to stay still, but you refused, determined as ever. Framing his face with your palms, you searched him desperately. "What do you mean by transferred?"

"I took the advancement test. I passed. Now they want to send me to Two."

Your poor heart began to ache all over again. Every word from his mouth was eating at it like sugar to a rotting tooth. "Two."

"Sweetheart." He gently held your wrists, pulling your hands away from his cheeks. The more you looked at him the more you hurt. But you'd never been able to tear yourself from him yet. Though your time with him had been brief, Coriolanus had quickly become your favorite person, the only one you wanted to be with. You wanted a sea of endless nights cuddled to his chest, or under his arm at the Hob. Gent's girl is what the other Peacekeepers called you, lifting their bottles and grinning.

Tears began to prick your eyes. "You never even told me you took the test."

"I didn't know they would ship me out," he said with an edge, swallowing. "I thought maybe I'd be promoted here and get to stay. But they want me somewhere else."

"You're leaving me." It felt so selfish to say it that way. The man you loved was escaping the mousetrap of District Twelve and you were condemning for it. In all honesty, this was a chance you knew you would have jumped at had it been you.

Coriolanus breathed out through his nose, and you suppressed a chill both from the temperature and the look on his face. He didn't reach for you, letting you have your space as you tried not to cry. It was only when the first crystal drop leaked from your eye that his hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest.

Your tears soaked his chest, and you took in sharp breaths, trying not to go hysterical. It was bad enough that he was comforting you when you were supposed to be excited for him.

All you could think of were the things you would miss. The barely-there lilt of his lips whenever you said something sweet or funny, The feel of his hands on you. Soft confessions he made when it was dark in your small home save for a candle, kissing your forehead when he left to get back in time for curfew. The way he kissed- like he'd been hungry his entire life and only you could satiate him.

A choked little sob bubbled up and darted past your lips when you realized exactly how alone you'd be when he was gone. Family long passed, being with him had been the closest you'd felt to home in a long while. Where do you go when your home is a million miles away?

To the bed he'd held you in, you gathered. To the places he used to be. It would be a measly substitute for what you really wanted.

"I'll write you," he promised, adjusting the daisy he'd plucked and put in your hair earlier. His body was growing taut, and you knew he was fighting internally as much as you were. "We'll...it'll be okay."

Maybe somehow you had always known he wouldn't be here forever. Given his origins somewhere that may as well have been universes away, you knew he wasn't destined for life in a place like this. With the simplicities you had learned to make enough.

You could almost see the path the future embroidered before you. Crinkled letters under your pillow because that was the closest you'd get to holding him again, hours emptied of his presence. It drained you like a rainy day, and you slid your arms around his torso. His chin dropped to your hair, one hand at your waist and the other fingering the strap of your damp crocheted undershirt.

A plea for him to stay nearly rose on your lips, and you lifted your head, wishing you were brave enough to say it. But you knew nothing could stop it now. The echoes of your desire were fading into the background as he breathed in through his nose, pressing his forehead down onto your head.

The way he held you spoke volumes, and you mentally penned it to remember for late. Your wet hair had been sticking to his chest like seaweed, and he brushed it behind your shoulder. "I...I'll miss you." Though his voice was steady, you could hear the cracks in the foundation. "I love you," he was really saying.

You allowed yourself one final sniffle before lifting your head, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips to his. His warm fingers found the nape of your neck over your hair, just holding you there until you pulled back. "I'll miss you too," you breathed, twin tears trickling from your eyes.

Ever since you knew him, you had watched the mask he'd worn as a young man from the Capitol chink and crumble away. Perhaps he had realized he didn't need it here. Not where humanity was in its barest bones, the natural world a pure comfort. In a romantic way you knew it was you too. You gave him all you had in the way of love, unearthing the undeniable fact that he cared for you that way too.

Coriolanus' hands found your cheeks, and he kissed you once more in a way full of longing. He searched your eyes, letting his forehead lean against yours. In that moment he looked almost desperate, matching you. Without closing his eyes, his lips pressed to yours in the tiniest of pecks. "I love you."

Maybe that would keep you warm at night when he was nothing but memory.

[fxckadoodledoomunson]

A Heart Divided -2-

Previous

|2| Finding a new sanctuary…

Summary: You try your best to focus on your studies and training for the upcoming swimming competition, but with Eddie and your sister making it difficult for you, you’re left with no choice but to turn to Steve for help.

Warnings: swearing, Eddie and your sister being arseholes.

Tagged: @somethingvicked @ali-r3n

As soon as you heard your parents were home, you immediately went back to your place so you could ask permission to stay over at Chrissy’s.

When you stepped inside, you heard your sister ask your father in a babyish voice, “Daddy…”

“No!” Your father sternly interrupted.

“But you don’t know what I was going to say,” your sister whinged, as she followed him to the kitchen, where your mother was unpacking the groceries.

“Well whatever it is, the answer’s still no,” your father retorted.

“Come on, honey,” your mother said to your father. “Just hear what she’s got to say.”

Your father sighed, before asking your sister, “Well, what is it?”

“I need to borrow fifty bucks,” your sister replied.

You rolled your eyes at the word borrow. You knew that what she meant was, “I need fifty dollars from you for my selfish gain and will not have any intention of returning it.”

Thankfully, your father wasn’t stupid to fall for whatever your sister says. After he declined to give her any money, she started to throw a tantrum, “But Daddy, it’s not fair. I’m supposed to go out with Roxy and Diana to this new club tonight. How am I supposed to go without money?”

“Simple, get a job like the rest of us, and not lounge around all day,” your father sternly told her. “Or better yet, not drop out of college in the first place.”

Your parents started to argue about your sister. After a year at college, your sister had decided to drop out as she felt it was more tiresome to study than go out and partying all night. While your father had always gave discipline, your mother on the other hand, coddled her. As your shoes squeaked against the kitchen floor, everyone stopped arguing, noticing you.

Your father quickly smiled, as he greeted you, “Hey pumpkin, where have you been hiding?”

“I was over at the Cunningham’s,” you replied.

Your mother approached you, as she asked, “Darling, why’s your face red? Have you been crying?”

“Let me guess, over a boy?” Your sister snidely asked.

“Enough from you,” your father scolded her.

You wanted nothing more than to snitch on her for being with Eddie, knowing how your parents felt about him, despite him always being polite to them when he used to come over for the tutoring. However, you didn’t have the energy to do it. So instead, when your father asked if it really was over a boy, you lied to him, “No Dad, it’s not. I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed, with finals coming up and the final two swimming competitions…”

You deeply sighed, when your father put his arm around you, comforting you, as he said, “You just do your best. Even if you get third place in the competitions, I would still be proud of you.”

You gave him a small smile, as you thanked him, before hugging him, ignoring your sister’s sour faced expression.

As your father let go of you, you began to ask him, “Actually Dad. I was wondering if I could stay over at Chrissy’s tonight? She’s asked me to help her with her homework.”

You figured that your father would say no, but instead he replied, “Sure pumpkin.”

“Well, are you still having dinner with us?” Your mother asked. “I’m making vegetable lasagna.”

You politely shook your head, before telling her, “Chrissy said that I can have dinner with her and her family.”

You then excused yourself from the conversation, so you can gather your overnight stuff and your sleeping bag. You were about to go upstairs when you stopped and told your father, “Oh by the way, I had to leave work early today, so I need to work an extra couple of hours to make up for it.”

“Of course, pumpkin. Do what you need to do, just don’t overdo it, okay?”

You nodded, before rushing up the stairs, overhearing your sister complaining about you, “That’s not fair, why does she always get what she wants, but I can’t?”

You got the guy I wanted, you thought. Isn’t that enough for you?

Meanwhile at Gareth’s place, Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin were rehearsing for the next night. While everyone was in the zone, Eddie found himself distracted. He thought about Chrissy’s sudden change in her demeanour when he saw her.

After noticing that Eddie was messing up the chords, Jeff raised his hand, prompting everyone else to stop.

“Eddie,” Jeff called out, making Eddie stop and turn to him. “What’s going on with you man?”

Eddie huffed, as he took off his guitar strap, placing his guitar in its case.

“It’s Chrissy,” Eddie spoke, as he scratched his head.

“What about her?” Grant asked.

Before Eddie could answer, Gareth exclaimed as he pointed at him with his drumstick, “I knew it! You’re secretly dating her, aren’t you?”

“What?! No! Of course I’m not!” Eddie denied.

Suddenly, the other two boys chuckled when Jeff mentioned, “Well, you’ve been really friendly with each other since the end of the semester.”

No longer tolerating their teasing, Eddie stomped towards them, as he angrily said whilst showing his index finger, “First of all, we’re not dating! She’s a client and a friend. And secondly…” He showed his index and middle finger, as he blurted, “I’m already seeing a woman.”

The rest of the boys’ faces fell, hearing Eddie’s confession, which led them to ask so many questions…

“Wait what?”

“You’re seeing someone? Since when?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Is she hot?”

“Who is it?”

“How far did you get with her?”

Having enough of them bombarding him with questions, Eddie bellowed, “SHUT UP!”

The boys became silent, not wanting to piss off their leader.

Eddie took a deep sigh, before answering them, “I’ve been seeing her since spring break, and yes, she’s like super hot…”

“Super hot like Phoebe Cates?” Gareth asked.

“Way hotter than her,” Eddie pointed out.

The boys excitedly exclaimed, before Jeff asked, “So, who is it?”

Eddie smirked, as he crossed his arms, before revealing it was your sister.

The three of them stood still, as their jaws dropped, before repeating your sister’s name.

Eddie nodded gleefully.

“No way, she was like the hottest girl in the school,” Jeff commented.

“Not to mention rich,” Grant said, before asking if your sister and you were neighbours with Chrissy.

Eddie nodded, before revealing that after he went to see your sister, he went to see Chrissy and asked if she wanted to watch the band rehearse. “It’s weird,” Eddie told them. “Today at school, she was friendly with me, but when I went to visit her, she gave me the cold shoulder.”

“Did you say something that might have pissed her off earlier?” Grant asked.

“Of course I didn’t, I don’t think so anyway. Although…” Eddie then mentioned that Chrissy glared at him from her window earlier after saying goodbye to your sister.

The boys glanced at him in confusion, wondering why Chrissy changed her attitude towards their leader when Gareth exclaimed as he banged his cymbal, “Aha!”

“What?” Eddie asked.

Gareth scoffed, before asking him, “Dude! Isn’t it obvious?”

Before his confused bandmates could ask, Gareth told them, “She’s jealous.”

Jeff and Grant disagreed while an astonished Eddie furrowed his eyebrows.

“There’s no way she’s jealous,” Jeff told Gareth.

“Plus, she’s with Carver,” Grant mentioned.

“So?!” Gareth retorted. “Just because she’s with that douchebag, it’s doesn’t mean that she still wants to be in a relationship with him. Maybe,” he raised his drumstick, as he continued. “Just maybe…she’s finally come to her senses and wants to leave the dark side.”

Eddie raised one of his eyebrows at the drummer, thinking about his theory. He couldn’t lie, he did once have a small crush on Chrissy when they met at the middle school talent show, but that faded over time. Even when they reconnected during the first deal, he didn’t feel that way again about her, especially as he actually liked…

“I’ve just realised something,” Grant spoke up as he interrupted Eddie’s thoughts.

“What?” Jeff asked.

Eddie shifted his attention to the bass player, as Grant asked Eddie about you.

Eddie huffed, crossing his arms, as he asked “What about her?”

“Well, weren’t you like into her?”

Jeff and Gareth faced each other in realisation, before commenting that they remembered that Eddie did once comment how amazing you were for helping him get his grades up and how happy he was to see you watch the band at the Hideout.

“So?” Eddie retorted, as he glared at them.

“So what’s changed?” Grant asked. “I mean, you gave me a hard time earlier for acknowledging her. How did you go from her to her sister?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, as he exhaled in frustration, before telling his bandmates, “You wouldn’t believe me even if I tell you.”

“Try us,” Jeff replied.

Eddie shifted his attention between the three boys before revealing why he chose your sister over you.

Staying over at Chrissy’s house was something you definitely needed. Although you were still upset about Eddie and your sister, Chrissy did her best to cheer you up after you helped her with her homework, as you both watched both Grease movies and listening to your favourite songs to lift your spirits up.

When the next morning came, you were dreading, not only potentially bumping into your sister as she would go out to see her friends for morning coffee, but also going to school and seeing Eddie.

You clutched your backpack, feeling nauseous when Chrissy placed her hand on your shoulder, as she assured you, “It’s going to be okay.”

You nodded at her, thanking her before heading to your front yard to grab your bike when you heard a vehicle horn honking. You turned around, worried that it was Eddie’s van. Instead, you sighed with relief as you saw Jason’s jeep parked.

You heard him call out Chrissy’s name, as he greeted her, before asking her if she was ready.

Instead of answering him, Chrissy turned to you and suggested, “Come to school with us.”

“Well…” you hesitated. “I don’t-“

“Please?” Chrissy begged.

Unable to resist her puppy eyes, you accepted Chrissy’s offer, which made her smile.

As you headed to the jeep, Jason raised his hand, stopping you getting in. “Woah!” He exclaimed. “What do you think you’re doing? After what you treated my girlfriend-“

“It’s okay, Jason,” Chrissy interjected. “We’ve talked things over and we’ve made up.”

Jason turned to his girlfriend, before shifting his attention to you, as he huffed, whilst signalling you to get in.

You thanked him, as you and Chrissy got in the vehicle.

Throughout the day, you avoided any form of contact with Eddie. You even reluctantly acknowledged the rest of the Hellfire club, as you didn’t want to aggravate him any further. Whilst you avoided him and the others, you were unaware of the cold expressions on the older boys’ faces as they watched you walk past without acknowledging them.

As you headed into one of the classrooms, Jeff commented to Eddie, “You were right about her. She doesn’t even have the guts to look at us.”

Meanwhile, Jason gave Chrissy a peck on the cheek, before heading to his next class, leaving Chrissy to walk alone to the next class she shared with you.

As she walked through the hallway, Eddie called out to her, as he waved at her.

Instead of waving back, she silently glared at him, before stomping to the classroom.

“Dude, she is definitely playing hard to get with you,” Gareth told Eddie, as he patted his shoulder, while Eddie glanced at the door, wondering if Chrissy is really jealous and wanted him or if she just genuinely dislike him.

Later on before your shift ended, you were packing up and getting changed in the staff room when you heard the door bell ring.

You then heard Steve say, “Welcome to Family…Oh, hey Chrissy.”

You popped your head out of the door, seeing Chrissy dressed up in a baby pink dress with matching sneakers. You smiled, as you greeted her, “I’ll be right out.”

You went back to the staff room, to collect everything as you were listening to Steve and Robin talking to Chrissy.

After sorting yourself out, you rushed out in your black jeans and your Iron Maiden shirt, as you told Chrissy, “I’m ready. How are we getting there?”

“Well, Aimee said that she and her brother Tony can drop us off,” Chrissy replied. “But I’m not sure how we’re getting back.”

Before you could respond, Steve interjected, “I can take you two home. Robin and I going later anyway, so we can all go home together.”

Chrissy beamed, as she thanked him, earning a wink from him, which made her giggle. Suddenly, you heard a car beep from outside. You and Chrissy turned to see her fellow cheerleader, waving outside the car window. “Oh, that’s Aimee,” she exclaimed, as she grabbed your hand, and pulled you. “We better get going.”

After you said goodbye to Robin and Steve, you and Chrissy started walking out when you overheard Robin and Steve bantering.

“What?” You heard Steve ask.

“You’re gonna tell me why you winked at the head cheerleader?” Robin retorted.

“It was just a wink. You know, a friendly wink.”

“That was so not a friendly wink.”

You stifled your laughter, as you caught up with Chrissy.

A few moments later, you and Chrissy got out of Tony’s car, as you thanked him for the ride.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Aimee called out.

You and Chrissy waved as Tony drove off, before you turned around and faced the entrance. In that moments, your body froze.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Chris,” you mumbled, wanting to turn away. However, Chrissy stopped you, and held your hand, as she said, “You’ll be fine. If Eddie says or does something, we’ll just leave, okay?”

You nodded, and started walking into the building, as she placed her other hand on your back.

As always, the Hideout was filled with a crowd of five drunks. You looked over at the stage, finding Corroded Coffin performing, before swiftly turning away, trying to avoid being noticed.

You and Chrissy headed to the bar to order your drinks, as your fight-or-flight kicked in. You clutched your chest, as your breathing began to increase. Chrissy noticed this, and placed her hand on your back, as she said, “Deep breaths.”

She inhaled and then exhaled with you until you felt better.

“Thanks Chris,” you replied, as the barmaid placed your drinks on the counter. After Chrissy paid, you both grabbed your drinks and headed to one of booths, further away from the stage. As soon you two found the booth, you heard feedback from the microphone, before Eddie announced, “Are you ready to rock again, Hawkins?!”

After a few claps from a couple of drunks, Eddie announced, “The next song we’re gonna play is Fire Shroud.”

As the band started to play, you couldn’t help but bop your head to the music, realising how much you missed hearing them play.

However, you stopped enjoying yourself when you noticed your sister’s friends, Roxy and Diana, were sitting at a table close to the stage.

If they’re here, then that means… you thought when you noticed your sister coming out of the bathroom.

“I should’ve known,” you grumbled.

“What?” Chrissy asked, not hearing what you said.

You swiftly turned away, avoiding your sister and her friends. Chrissy turned to you, before shifting her attention back to the stage, realising that your sister and one of her friends were heading towards stage to dance together. Chrissy gave you a sympathetic gaze and squeezed your hand , as she asked, “Do you want to go?”

Before you could respond, the last voice you wanted to hear shouted over the music, “Well well well.”

You turned to find your sister towering over you two , as she leaned against the table, continuing to snidely ask, “What do we have here? Shouldn’t you two be at home playing My Little Pony or something like good little girls?”

You took a sip of your drink, trying to ignore her, whilst Chrissy glared at her.

However, your sister kept trying to push your buttons, as she asked you, “Why are you even here? No one wants you here.”

Before you could answer back, you realised that the band stopped playing, as you watched Eddie and the rest of the band heading towards your booth. “Hey, what’s going on, princess?” Eddie asked your sister, as he wrapped his arm around her.

“Well, I was just saying to my baby sister that no one wants her here,” your sister smugly replied.

“It’s a public place,” Chrissy retorted. “You can’t ban someone because you don’t like them.”

“True,” Eddie replied. “But like she said…”

He then glared at you, before finishing his sentence, “No one wants you here.”

You quickly stood up, as you angrily retorted, “That’s bullshit! It’s you two that don’t want me here-“

“Actually,” Gareth coldly spoke up, which caused you to turn to look at him. “Neither of us want you here.”

You gazed at him with confusion, as Jeff told you, “Eddie told us, so don’t try to deny it.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked Jeff, before asking Eddie, “What have you told them?”

“Figure it out,” Eddie coldly told you.

You shifted your gaze at everyone, before turning to Grant, who avoided eye contact with you when you asked, “So, you don’t want me here either Grant?”

Grant continued to avoid you, as you turned your attention to Eddie and your sister, with tears brimming in your eyes. Without saying another word, you grabbed your belongings and stormed out, ignoring Chrissy calling out to you.

Chrissy turned to Eddie, and angrily told him, “I don’t know what’s going on with you Eddie, but you’re being a real asshole, and as for you…”

She then turned to your sister, and scolded her, “How could you be like this to your own sister? What did she ever do to you?”

Your sister blankly looked at Chrissy, before retorting, “Exist, that’s what.”

The next thing that no one anticipated was Chrissy slapping your sister across the face. Before your sister could retaliate, Chrissy grabbed both drinks and threw it at both Eddie and your sister, which made her gasp, before whinging that her outfit was ruined.

“You two deserve each other,” Chrissy spat, before running off to find you.

While your sister ran to the bathroom with her friends following her, Eddie grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and dried his face off, as Gareth blurted out, “I guess Chrissy’s not into you after all.”

Eddie turned to silently glare at the drummer before heading for the door, giving you and Chrissy a piece of his mind.

Meanwhile, you and Chrissy were sitting on the ground, as you sobbed while Chrissy comforted you.

“I don’t understand it, Chrissy,” you sniffled, unaware that Eddie was eavesdropping. “I mean, I’m sure that I would get over their relationship one day.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, thinking that you were pulling the poor me act when he heard you ask Chrissy. “But what did I do to make Eddie hate me so much?”

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, confused by your question. At first, he thought it was just an act, but then he wondered if you were being genuine. But then, he shook his head, as he thought, No, I’ve seen enough to know how she actually thinks about me and everyone else.

Before he could step out, he noticed Steve’s car parking near the building.

Not long after, Robin and Steve came out and rushed over to you and Chrissy, checking if you were okay.

After Chrissy explained what happened, Steve immediately said, “We’ll take you guys home.”

As Robin and Chrissy put you in the car, Steve noticed Eddie lurking by the doorway of the bar, and shook his head at him, before getting in the car and drove off.

You silently sat in the backseat with Robin and Chrissy, as both girls comforted you.

“Everything will be okay,” Chrissy quietly told you, as she squeezed your hand.

Everything will be okay.

That was easier said than done. Although you’ve managed to avoid the Hellfire club at school, you couldn’t avoid Eddie and your sister at home. Every time you tried to do your homework, they always had loud music playing from her bedroom, drowning whatever they were doing. You wanted to go over to Chrissy’s place as it was a sanctuary to you. However, thanks to your sister snitching on you both to your parents and Chrissy’s mother, you were no longer allowed to go over, which drove you to go to the basement just so you can finish your studies in peace.

But what aggravated you the most was that you had a swimming semifinal competition coming up soon, and you needed to practice. However, you couldn’t even practice properly as Eddie and your sister decided to make out whilst lounging by the pool.

But the final straw was when the two of them decided to jump into the pool, preventing you from practicing all together.

Having enough of them splashing around, you aggressively splashed the water towards them, as you growled, “That’s it!”

You swam to the ladder and climbed up, as you heard your sister mock, “Aww, can’t handle a little competition?”

Without thinking, you grabbed your sister’s radio and threw it across the yard, smashing it to the ground.

As you stomped back inside, you heard your sister call you a bitch, which made you flip both of them off, no longer caring being called that.

As you were getting changed in your room, you were trying to decide how to practice without interruptions. You couldn’t go to Chrissy’s as you were banned from going over. And you weren’t allowed to go to the school swimming pool after hours without a teacher supervising you. Also, the community pool wasn’t great for practice if it’s crowded. The only solution was…

“Harrington,” you muttered, as you finished getting changed, you packed your spare swimsuit and goggles, before calling Steve at work, asking him if you could stay at his place for a while so you could practice.

“Sure, you know where the spare key is,” Steve immediately told you. You thanked him, before hanging up, so you could call your father to let him know that you were going to Steve’s to practice.

You thought that he would say no. But knowing that how much the competition meant to you, as well as getting the scholarship, he decided to let you go, before telling you, “But don’t stay out too late.”

As soon as you got to Steve’s house, you found the spare key under the flowerpot and let yourself in. You had managed to get a good half an hour of practice when you heard the door slide open.

You turned to find Steve coming through the door, as he greeted you. “Not interrupting you, am I?”

“No, I managed to do thirty minutes so far,” you replied, before continuing to swim up and down the pool, checking your lap time on your stopwatch.

Suddenly, Steve walked towards your stopwatch and picked it up, as he said, “I’ll time you.”

“Okay. Thanks,” you replied as you swam to one end of the pool, while Steve sat one of the lounge chairs.

After Steve started the countdown, he shouted, “Go!”

At once, you swam as fast as you could, back and forth for about five minutes, until Steve called out to you to stop, as he pressed the button on the stopwatch to stop.

You swam towards the ladder and got out of the pool, before grabbing your towel, as you asked, “How did I do?”

As you wrapped your towel around you, you sat in front of him when he showed you the lap times. You grabbed the stopwatch and sighed with relief, as you managed to break your record.

You looked up at him, as you said, “Thanks Steve. I wouldn’t have been able to practice today if it wasn’t for you.”

Steve smiled, before asking, “So, why did you ask me if you could practice here? Is because of your sister and Munson?”

You lowered your head down, facing the ground, not wanting to cry as you thought about them ruining your week.

You heard the chair creak, as Steve moved to sit to you. “I’m sorry,” Steve apologised. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

You shook your head, telling him, “Don’t worry about it.”

You lifted your head, and sighed before telling him, “I wouldn’t have minded them being together if they weren’t such arseholes. But…I don’t know what I’ve done to Eddie to make him despise me.”

“Hey, I’m sure that you’ve done nothing wrong, okay?” Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulder, as he said, “Whatever his problem is, that’s on him. The same goes with your sister.”

You leaned against his shoulder, as you said, “If only I wasn’t born in the same family as her. It would’ve made things less complicated.”

Steve had a sympathetic expression on his face, as he lightly ruffled your dampened hair, which made you smile a little bit. Suddenly, you both heard the phone ring.

“I better get that,” Steve said as he moved away from you, getting up on his feet, before heading inside to answer the phone, leaving you alone to pack your stopwatch in your bag, before taking out your diary and started writing…

No longer tolerating with the so called valour bard being seduced by the succubus, and being banished by the acrobat’s wicked mother from seeing her friend again, the mermaid swam to the other side of the island to find a new sanctuary where she found the young fallen king. Despite his former status, she got on well with the king, and he was willing to help her any way possible, even if it was to talk about her problems. There were times that the mermaid wished she was a part of the king’s family and not have a sibling like…

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard Steve call your name.

You looked up, as you closed your diary.

“It’s your dad,” Steve informed you. “He wants you home right away.”

You felt deflated, hearing the word home. With the way things were at the moment, it didn’t feel like home.

You sighed as you shoved your diary back in your bag, before grabbing your dry clothes and ran inside to get changed.

Shortly getting changed, you immediately ran for the door, as you shouted, “Thanks Steve. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Steve called out, as he raided his fridge when he turned to find you left your bag behind on the lounge chair. He rushed to pick it up and ran out of the house, as he shouted, “Hey, you forgot-“

By then, you had already gone. Steve shook his head, before going back inside to get his car key.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 17

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: and were back. were so back after getting this chapter deleted. trigger warning for this chapter as it contains blood, car accidents.

About You Series

2014, Circuit de Monaco

From this point of view, one could overlook Monaco as a whole. There was the sea that is fleeted with yachts, specifically docked there to watch the Grand Prix this weekend. Then, the clustered hills filled with trees and apartments, the composite of it can be eye-catching or an eyesore in Y/N’s opinion. And of course, she simply can’t miss how the balcony has the perfect view of the start of the Monaco Grand Prix. She can hear and see the Formula 2 cars dash around in their practice sessions.

“What do you think?” Sebastian walked in with a smile.

“This is just gorgeous. I mean I thought that I have seen amazing Monaco apartments when McLaren or when Red Bull booked us but this…”

Y/N lets out a loud ‘woah’ to conclude her statement.

It was no wonder that this apartment seems empty and unoccupied. If Y/N has to guess then the price for this place is skyrocketing. This was a dream location for anyone who wanted to stay in Monaco.

“So why did you call me here?” Y/N asked. The Red Bull driver has texted the location and she is still confused to Seb’s interest in this place. It was gorgeous but she knew how Sebastian explained several times that he was not one for the Monaco lifestyle.

“I bought it-”

She was mildly surprised with that. Only mildly because Red Bull has clearly lined up Sebastian’s pockets well especially after winning continuously for several years. Even today, Y/N pretty sure that despite the lack of win streak, Sebastian is still getting paid generously.

“-and I want you to have keys for it”

“I must have misheard that Sebastian” Y/N stated.

A key was laid out in her palm. It has a keychain of the checkered flag with an imprint of Y/N’s name as well as the date today. It contained two keys which has been poorly labelled with Sebastian’s handwriting on a plaster tape. One was scribbled as Mon, an acronym for Monaco while the other has Mar.

Maybe there was too much car fumes or petrol in Sebastian’s head which is why he is going crazy for giving Y/N this apartment so she tries to hand back the key. He just shakes his head in disagreement.

“This place is yours as much as its mine” Sebastian insisted “I knew you love Monaco and I want you to have a place to go whenever you feel like staying here.”

It wouldn’t be that bad to have a place to go to here in Monaco. However, there was this certain guilt that this was too much and she doesn’t think that she deserves this. It was something that Sebastian caught on, he could read her so well.

“I thought of you that’s why I bought it. You love the sea, you love the races, and bonus points because you have Nico and Lewis as neighbours”

The last statement elicited a laugh from the two of them. Sebastian wanted to convince her because this was a literal vision in his head that he wanted a safe space for Y/N to go home to. England and Australia may be her home town but it doesn’t give her the privacy that she needs. Monaco, on the other hand, is quieter and more peaceful despite the extravagance.

“Okay but I’m still going to text you when I’m going to go here”Y/N settled.

“Perfect”

“Now what is Mar?” Y/N’s curiosity got the best of her “And please tell me that its not a key to a boat in the Marina”

“Mar is Maranello”Sebastian clarifies.

It was time to move to the second surprise that he has for Y/N. He had been so excited to tell her about this but he had to keep it down until everything was settled and signed. Last week, he signed the contract.

The girl was confused. It didn’t make any sense to why Sebastian would be in Maranello when the Red Bull headquarters is in Brackley. Only Ferrari resides in Maranello, why would Sebastian be there?

“Sebastian Vettel, you are Ferrari’s new driver?”

There were talks that Ferrari would change their driver lineup but she haven’t heard Sebastian’s name being thrown in the hat. She couldn’t contain the excitement that she was feeling and leaned into hug Sebastian. Driving for Ferrari is a milestone for Sebastian especially when he used to idolize Michael when he drove for the red team.

“When are you announcing this? Who else knows?” Y/N quizzes.

“No one yet”Sebastian grins “I wanted you to be the first one out of the signing team to know”

This was an exciting news and hopefully one of the first of the many happy memories shared in this Monaco apartment. Things are finally turning for the better.

2014, Red Bull Ring

In a very media-centered event, it surprises a lot of people that there are places in the Grand Prix where any forms of press and media is not allowed. Of course, this varies depending on whose home turf they are racing on. Mercedes and McLaren definitely have bigger private spaces in Silverstone, just like how Red Bull have their own private lounge reserved for their private guest.

Jenson sticks out like a sore thumb with his McLaren merchandise. He seems to stick out even more with the way that he stands there and just gazing at the view in front of him. Sebastian, Y/N, and the little baby Margarette—if Jenson didn’t know any better then he would have guessed that they are an actual family. He was lucky that the media weren’t there to catch his reactions because they could catch Jenson spilling the truth about his feelings.

“Jenson is that you?” a voice broke Jenson out of his reverie. His head turned to see Hanna with a plate of fries.

“Hello Hanna, nice to see you around”Jenson politely greeted.

He honestly couldn’t fathom why Sebastian has invited her over. He gets it if Sebastian wanted to see the kid but to add this woman that has been the cause of pain of Y/N, Jenson could not help but scoff. His emotions does not seem to be hidden well as Hanna shifted nervously.

“I know you are probably thinking that I don’t deserve to be here and I think that too”Hanna explained “But Y/N invited me to take Marga because Seb is missing her”

“Y/N?”

The woman chuckles, “Yeah, I can’t believe it as well. She has been nothing but nice to me. I know that she have every right to hate me but she has been a supporting pillar and someone really wonderful to Marga”

They glanced back to Y/N, who was playing with the baby. She was gently rocking the baby and it giggles as it tries to reach her hair. Sebastian, on the other hand, was sat next to her with a loving gaze on the two of them.

Jenson couldn’t feel but sigh and ask if it was him in Sebastian’s place then would Y/N be as happy as that?

There were no need for words but Hanna have realized from the small interactions how Jenson is deeply inlove with Y/N. It felt like a déjà vu because that was the way she used to look at Sebastian. Her actions to force things to happen has ruined a lot of things for Sebastian and she was glad that things are still repairable.

“I know that look” Hanna pointed out “You love her”

It was something that Jenson cannot rebut. He had always thought that he was good at hiding things especially with his flirty attitude and his chill self. This was the first time he was seen for what he feels.

“That obvious huh?” Jenson nervously replied.

He had tried his luck once upon a time and he ended up in the friendzone. He took the friendship if that is all that she could offer just so he could keep her in his orbit. There is a part of him that knows that no matter how many girls he meet, it was always Y/N who occupies his heart. Confessing is not an option given how complicated things are and how telling will only do more harm than good.

“We were in the same position a year ago” Hanna understands Jenson “All I could tell you that it is best to move on so it won’t hurt you anymore”

A year ago, Hanna would have not suggested that. She would have urged Jenson to confess so he can end up with Y/N and Sebastian could end up as her’s. The past few months have been a huge period of moving on for Hanna. Maybe it’s the birth of her child that allowed her to refocus the unreciprocated love to the child. She also understood how much Sebastian and Y/N means to each other, she wouldn’t do anything more to damage them.

“That’s easy to say but so hard to do”Jenson mutters.

Hanna’s hands patted Jenson’s shoulders. It was a comforting thought that someone gets how he is feeling and maybe Hanna can serve his inspiration that maybe he could move on from this unrequited love.

“Everything will be alright Jenson”

2014, Silverstone Grand Prix

Jenson Button and Assistant Webber involved in a freak accident.

Jenson Button was going home after a celebration of Lewis Hamilton’s win in the recent Silverstone Grand Prix when he and assistant, Y/N Webber collided with a ten wheeler truck. The driver of ten wheeler truck has been drunk and lost control of the car. It was of sheer miracle that Jenson was not driving the car during the time of the accident because he was at the backseat drunk and sleepy. Due to that Jenson is able walk away from the accident with just some bruises and ready for the next Grand Prix. Unfortunately, Y/N who is behind the steering wheel received more dangerous injuries. Suffering from a head trauma and crippling injuries, Y/N was rushed to the hospital where she is placed in Intensive Care Unit.

The bright light and the white aesthetics of the hospital was a stark contrast to the blood that stained Jenson’s hands. His hands were shaking knowing that this blood was not his but from the girl who is currently fighting for her life. Tears were stinging his already bloodshot eyes as he watched the clock tick painfully slow.

Its already been a hour since Y/N was rushed inside. The doors of the operating room remained close and Jenson doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Scrambling footsteps screeched in Jenson’s hallway. He saw his fellow drivers and Mark. All of them equally frazzled with the worry and fear being the top ones to show.

“What happened?” Mark was quick to ask.

Honestly, Jenson was not much of a help. He was lying down and he just remembered how Y/N was reminding him that he has to get up early to apologize to a Ronnie in the morning. He was too dizzy after having too many tequilas and then a bright light followed by a loud crunch.

“Holy shit, is that your blood?”Lewis noticed “Man its all over you”

“It’s Y/N” Jenson muttered. He remembered how his hands and his clothes were stained when he tried to pull her out of the wreckage.

The reality of the whole situation sinks in. Mark, was supported by Nico and Lewis, as he falls down on his knees. Sebastian was pacing back and forth while Jules seems to be praying. They were all a mess as they await updates about the girl. As Formula 1 drivers, they should have been used to accidents and collisions because it was a risk that comes with their work. It hits a little different when it happens to someone who is not a driver and someone very dear to them.

It took another 40 minutes before a doctor appeared in front of them.

“How is my sister?” “Is she doing okay?” “What happened to her”

The flurry of questions was something that cannot be stopped. The doctor’s expression was not giving away anything if the operation turned out positive or negative.

“She is stable now” the Doctor explained “We stitched up the head wound and hopefully she will be awake in a few hours”

A sigh of relief erupted out of every single one of them. They were just so relieved that she survived the whole crash.

“But there is something that you must know about her..”

2014, Hockenheimring

“Seb, you have to focus” Y/N reminded him “This is your home race that we are talking about”

“I know but quali don’t start in about…” Sebastian knows he has 10 more minutes before it starts but he grins “20 minutes”

The grainy camera could showcase Y/N sitting on her bed. The balcony must have been open hence the sunlight gracing her face and shining light to the newfound hollowness in her face. Her busted lips and the stitches were a constant reminder of the tragedy that she survived.

With all those imperfections, Sebastian continues to stare at her lovingly across the screen. His thoughts remain the same that Y/N is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“Sebastian, don’t make me call Christian”Y/N warned.

The German driver just raises his hand in surrender, “I’m just checking in you sunshine and I really miss you more than ever today”

It would have been really nice if she was here during his home race. Maybe he would have taken her for a drive to his parents’ house or they can get to explore some German countryside just like when they were younger.

“I’ll be there and recover soon”

“And I’ll be waiting. You take your time” Sebastian assures.

The door creaks open and Y/N could be seen turning sideways. She pans her camera to show Sebastian the visitor.

“Hey Mark!” Sebastian greeted.

Honestly, the retirement of Mark was a perfect timing. Sebastian couldn’t always take care of Y/N so Mark was placed in charge during race weekend. The Monaco apartment was big enough to have guests to stay over so Mark is currently camping at one of the guest room.

“Seb aren’t you supposed to be in your car right now?”Mark made a tsk tsk sound.

“I am but I wanted to talk to my best girl here” Sebastian reasoned out.

Y/N couldn’t hide the flush of red in her cheeks, “now you go and race! I love you!”

“I love you more sunshine”Sebastian replied

2014, Hungaroring

“That’s a terrible finish for Sebastian”

Mark’s comment from earlier has been ringing in her ears for the past few hours. Sebastian has started from P2 and ended up in P8 so Mark’s statement was not shocking. She has also seen the articles and the people in social media talking about Sebastian. Usually, people can blame the car or the strategy but today, Daniel won from P4. People are pointing fingers that Sebastian is past his prime.

She was fidgeting with her necklace again. She wonders if maybe her condition is a contributing factorin the recent poor performance of Sebastian.

Of course, Sebastian didn’t blame her for anything. He has always been supportive, kind, and lovely throughout this recovery journey. However, she feels like she is burdening Sebastian and distracting him from his true passion.

Speaking of the devil, the face of Sebastian shows up in her screen. Her hands hesitated to pick it up but she eventually pressed the green button.

“Hey! I have been so caught up with the meeting and I was only able to call now” Sebastian’s voice was cheery. If Y/N didn’t watch the race then she would have thought that he won with that smile on his face “Are you okay sunshine?”

“Yeah, tell me about your day”

Y/N is definitely lying but she no longer wanted to burden Sebastian. She continues to listen on with a forced smile on herself as she tries to fight the plaguing thoughts in her head.

2014, Autodromo Nazionale Monza

Seb: I know you dont like me much but we have to talk. Call me when you get this.

Mark: Hey mate. I wanted to talk to you about Y/N. Mark: Ring me up when you are available.

The notifications stared in front of Jenson for a good five minutes. It wasn't a difficult decision to ring up Mark because a) its about Y/N and b) Sebastian isn't someone he adores a lot. Although Jenson was hoping that Mark wouldn't pick up since its the late hours of the night.

"Jenson, its been a while"

Indeed it has been. Jenson can count how it had been almost 5 weeks since that accident. Heck,he could even count the hours and minutes that have passed if asked about. It was something on his mind 24/7 slowly eating him alive.

"Mark,how are you doing? How is she?"Jenson asked immediately.

"She is not doing well"Mark admits.

"But I thought everything is alright?"Jenson was confused.

He may or may not have been avoiding Y/N out of the eating guilt. However,he have heard from Nico that she was doing well. As far as he knows, she is staying with Mark in the apartment in Monaco.

"Her physical inabilities is taking a toll on her mental well-being"Mark explained "But I think she has been taking it too hard on herself."

Mark continued to talk about she has been pushing herself to the limits and wanted to expedite the whole process of getting back on her feet. He also mentioned how Y/N is clouded with guilt that she is a huge problem and a burden for everyone.

"But she isn't a problem or a burden"Jenson interjected.

"We know but she doesn't believe me" Mark sighs.

"What are we going to do about it?"

There was nothing that he wouldn't do for Y/N. Even if guilt was eating him up, he would have been an invisible figure being there for her. He would do whatever it takes just to bring back the old happy her.

"We are going to the next Grand Prix. Sebastian is making arrangements because he thinks maybe Y/N will feel better if she is surrounded by friends and the family she knows."

The Singapore Grand Prix was two weeks from now. Jenson immediately made a mental note for this one. Maybe he will busy himself with some media team bullshit or maybe he will have to arrive late for the free practice.

"I'm calling to let you know so you won't run away Jenson" Mark added "I know that you blame yourself for what happened but please, she misses you"

"You know me too well Mark"

"We're arranging dinner, promise you'll be there?" Mark continued to push.

"Anything for her"

2014, Marina Bay Street Circuit

When the news broke out about Y/N returning for Singapore, almost every driver arrived early to Singapore so they could attend the dinner arranged by Mark. Y/N was a beloved figure in the grid and even if she was not as close to everyone in a Nico, Lewis, Jules, or Jenson level—they all greatly miss her.

It was a good thing that Mark booked this restaurant for the night as people would have been really curious why the drivers gathered in one place.

Mark received a message from Sebastian that they were all there. He gently pushed the wheelchair to the elevator and texted him back that they will be there in a minute or two.

"Are you ready?" Mark wondered. "Its nice to get out of Monaco"

Y/N hummed in agreement. The glass elevator has a view of the whole Singapore nightlife. She could see the fireworks up in the sky to celebrate the upcoming weekend and the busy streets. It brings her a small smile that this was just like the old times.

The minute that the elevator opened, Jenson was standing there in front of them. Mark watched as Jenson immediately hugged Y/N and they were immediately crying.

Mark knew that if there was anyone who took this harder than Y/N then it was Jenson. He thinks he haven't seen Jenson interact or message after Y/N was pronounced safe from disaster. He knows how Jenson have blamed himself and thinks he should have been the one driving behind the wheel so this would not happen.

It was a joy to see them together again.

"I'm really sorry if I couldn't be with you a lot"Jenson continued to apologize.

"There is no need for that Jense"

"You might have needed me and I left you by yourself. I felt so guilty by the whole accident that I thought that its better to leave you alone"Jenson explained.

The hug just got tighter. There was no need for Jenson to explain himself because Y/N already understood. Many people forget that the two of them have been involved in the accident. Y/N's damage was physically present but Jenson's wound was something invisible to the naked eye.

"It's alright Jenson, were alright"Y/N assured.

It wss a good thing that the two met here rather than inside the restaurant. They wouldn't want the tears to get in the way of reconnecting and meeting with other friends.

"Let's get inside"Jenson wipes his tears "Everyone is waiting for you"

Before Jenson could open the door, Y/N shouted to wait.

"Mark,can you help me up?"Y/N asked.

Mark looked at her unsure. They have been through this several times in the Monaco apartment. Even if she tried to stand up,she normally can't walk because of the pain let alone stand for so long.

"Are you sure this is a good decision?"Mark was trying to find reason.

"I don't want them to see me in a wheelchair"Y/N admitted.

Mark gently helped Y/N up with Jenson assisting her as well. It was a team effort to keep her standing up but she is bearing most of its weight because of the excruciating pain that is hitting her.

The doors were gently pushed open and the drivers' attention turned to the newcomers of the restaurant. It made Sebastian shocked to see her standing there and trying her best to walk. He immediately went to assist her but he stops on his track.

"You stay there"Y/N instructed when Sebastian was three steps away "I'll do my best to get there"

It was quite painful for Y/N to take the first step and loosen her grip to her human crutches. Her teeth grinded each other as she tries to hide the pain away. She focused her attention to the hand of Sebastian reaching out for her.

"You can do it Y/N" Jules cheered on.

"Just careful steps"Sebastian encouraged.

The whole room seems to stand still with awaited breath as she takes another step towards Sebastian. It was like seeing a miracle for them and they felt speechless to see such feat. Some of them couldn't help but have tears in their eyes with how emotional this moment is.

"You've got this,one more"

Pain was shooting up but Y/N did her best to take another one. Her hands gripped Sebastian outreached hand before she could fall. Sebastian, gently held her close.

"You did it. You did it sunshine"Sebastian whispered.

The feeling of tears were welling up in her eyes. She doesm't know if this was because of the pain or maybe the longing that she felt for Sebastian. It didn't help when she looked at Sebastian and found his eyes tearing up as well.

There was a moment of comfort and peace that they both have been lacking the past few weeks. Everything was okay again now that they are back in each other's arms.

2014, Suzuka Circuit

Even if Y/N walked a few steps in Singapore,she was still advised to use the wheelchair. Her physical therapist have been trying to up her routines so she could walk again. For now she was stuck in a wheelchair and Sebastian don't mind pushing for her.

But today, Sebastian is quite busy so Jules have to sub for him.

"The media is going crazy with the news" Y/N observed. Today was the day that Sebastian was announced to replace Fernando Alonso and will start driving for Scuderia Ferrari. The media have been interviewing Sebastian as early as 8 in the morning and now its nearly lunchtime.

"I know, people say Sebastian may be the key to getting the championship back to Ferrari"Jules said.

"That puts a lot of pressure in Seb then"

"I'm sure he can handle it"Jules assured.

Jules pushed Y/N to the track. Their grid walks were something that Y/N have terribly missed. It was a good thing that its a bit cloudy so Jules wouldn't have to bring an umbrella for them.

"Speaking of Ferrari.."Jules opened up "I think I have to let you know that I may be replacing Kimi in 2016"

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. She felt like she was in a deja vu moment when Sebastian first told her about the Ferrari contract.

"Ohmygod that sounds amazing Jules!"Y/N beamed.

Jules seems to be a little bit unsure of himself judging by the nervous smile that graced his face.

"Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself but you know I'm already thinking about it. Would the people cheer for me when I announce that I signed to Ferrari"Jules glanced at the Tifosi crowd chanting Sebastian's name.

Y/N knows how sometimes driver can doubt their ability. She believed that they are one of the best drivers in the world because it isn't easy to be a Formula 1 driver. The skills,the reaction time, and even their quick thinking is an asset that not many people have. They often downplay themselves when they felt like they are performing poorly.

"You have got to be confident Jules. I'm sure the Tifosis would love to have you in their team"Y/N comforts "You just have a shitbox that can't compete right now but Ferrari would give you a beautiful machinery and I swear you will be up on the podium"

It was a beautiful picture in Jules' head. Any kid would have dreamed of driving for Ferrari but winning with Ferrari is a different kind of euphoria. He glanced at her and he hoped that he could see her cheering for him someday when he is at the top of the podium.

"Thank you little sister"Jules said "I'll make you proud someday"

"You already make me so proud Jules"

READ: Statement regarding Jules Bianchi crash.