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kjiscrawlingbackformore · 2 days ago

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The Dangers of Compromise

Lottie Matthews x fem reader

Summary: Life was finally settling into this perfect rhythm. You and Lottie finally had a place of your own and you were finally in the process of making it unquestionably both yours. Yet when Lottie gets bit by the baby fever bug…compromise takes on a new meaning.

Warnings: some NSFW at the end mdni (strap use, maybe mentions of calling it a cock)

A/N: idk writing jackie as a mom made me think about how much lottie would want to be one 😪💔 also you can thank @natorccios for forcing my hand on writing this lol

There was a weird hum in the vent. You didn’t want to think the worst. No, it was your job to be the optimist. The problem solver-not finder. But the more you investigated the more you were convinced it might be an alive hum problem and not the machinery.

Ever since Lottie bought this place you’d both been deep of the trenches of making it both your home. From the sidewalk, the townhouse looked almost shy.

A quiet facade of pale limestone tucked behind a wrought-iron fence and a pair of neatly trimmed boxwoods. It was the kind of building you could walk past a dozen times without ever suspecting the life unfolding behind its high, arched windows.

Inside was well less pretty and nothing quiet or quaint. It was all chaos, meshing your interior style with Lottie’s had proven a challenge in communication. Lottie wanted more bohemian and functional. While you were very eclectic and maximalist. It was then when a word that was already introduced to the vocabulary of your relationship gained new meaning.

Compromise.

It was one thing to compromise on where to eat. You didn’t care. If Lottie wanted sushi you’d eat it. If she wanted burgers, that’s fine. Now if Lottie wanted to get a weird ass Persian tiger statue she thrifted from the antique mall? Now that..that was not something you wanted to see everyday.

You learned quickly, Lottie didn’t take rejection very well. She shut down, was quieter than normal, avoidant. And when she finally explained tearfully why she felt so passionately about that damn Persian tiger. You agreed that certain compromises were needed.

The Persian tiger lives on the top of her bookshelf in the den of her reading nook. And in came the flood gates of compromises. Tile patterns, colors on the walls, rugs (so many fucking rugs), furniture.

Everything became about compromising. And it sucked at first and sometimes you were stubborn, because that lamp was ugly regardless of how Lottie phrased it. But nothing compared to seeing Lottie beam when you agreed to her pick.

The way she squealed, surged to kiss your cheek, and if you’re lucky your lips. It left this bubbling warmth and joy. Compromising was worth it for that reaction.

This is where you think you might’ve created a monster. Because now…now you think— no you’re convinced Lottie thinks you’ll compromise with enough convincing.

You’re still crouched near the vent, listening for the hum that might be a trapped bird or a dying appliance, when you hear her voice behind you, bright and a little breathless.

“I need to talk to you,” she announces, which is always how she starts when she’s about to drop something life-altering into your lap.

“Is it about the vent?” you ask, hopeful.

“No,” she says, dreamily, “it’s about…well, us.”

You exhale, bracing yourself. You stand and dust your hands off on your jeans. “Okay. What did I do? Or what did we do?”

She shakes her head, dark hair catching the afternoon sun spilling through the tall window. “Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just—God, I was at the farmers market on 12th. You know, the one with the fancy bread and that stall with all the ridiculous microgreens—”

“Sure,” you say warily. “The microgreens. What about them?”

“And there was this woman with a little girl,” she continues, and her whole face changes, goes soft and bright in a way that makes your heart do a startled somersault. “She must’ve been two, maybe three. And she had this big floppy hat and these chubby cheeks, and she was holding a little basket like she was going to pick out her own tomatoes—”

“Oh God,” you mutter, because you see exactly where this is going.

“—and she looked exactly like you,” Lottie says, undeterred. “She had your eyes, the color, and she smiled at me—just this huge, shameless, beaming smile—and I swear to you, it was like seeing what our kid would look like. I couldn’t stop staring.”

You open your mouth, then close it again.

Lottie keeps going, voice a little shaky with excitement. “I mean—your smile. Your nose. She even scrunched it up the way you do when you’re about to sneeze. And I—” She lets out a laugh, like she’s a little embarrassed by herself. “I don’t know, it just…baby it just hit me. Like a lightning bolt. That I want that. I want her. Or, well, someone like her. A little girl with your face.”

You stare at her, stunned. The vent hum forgotten. Your brain can’t seem to form a sentence.

Lottie’s hands flutter helplessly. “I know it’s a lot. I know you’re probably…freaked out. But I can’t stop thinking about it. About how incredible it would be to have a baby who has your eyes. Your smile. I mean—can you imagine?”

You can’t. Not really. Your imagination is stuck somewhere between adorable baby in a sunhat and well the sheer anxiety inducing terror of keeping a human alive.

She looks at you hopefully. Like maybe you’ll just say, Sure, why not, let’s do it tomorrow. And despite the shock, despite the mild heart attack currently in progress, you can’t help it. Your mouth twitches. Because it’s so her. So Lottie to stroll home with a baguette and a plan to drastically change your entire life.

You clear your throat. “Lottie,” you say carefully, “you do realize that a baby is…not a Persian tiger statue.”

Her eyes go wide. “I know! But—”

“Or a rug.”

“I know. But—”

“Or even a particularly expensive lamp.”

She sighs, a little exasperated, but still glowing. “I know. But I’m serious. I want this with you. Someday.”

Your heart is still galloping in your chest, but when you look at her—so earnest, so certain—you feel that dangerous softness again. The one that made you agree to the tiger. And the rugs. And the thousand other compromises that somehow made this house a home.

You rub a hand over your face. “Someday. I can do someday. Because I don’t know if I’m ready to be responsible for a whole little human. Even if they’re the cutest thing to ever exist.” you admit, voice low.

“I know,” she says gently. “I’m not asking you to be ready now. Just…think about it.”

And that’s the problem. Because you know you will.

Even as you promise to do just that and climb back down to peer at the vent, your mind is already conjuring it: a small, chubby-cheeked person with your smile. With her stubbornness. Someone you might someday love more than either of you can comprehend.

You sigh, pressing your ear to the vent.

Somewhere in the walls, the hum keeps going. And you can’t help thinking: maybe it’s not broken at all. Maybe it’s just another thing waiting to be discovered.

It was a week later, you don’t even know the day. You’re in the paint aisle at the hardware store, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder, studying a wall of sample cards in a way that feels vaguely humiliating, like if you pick the wrong shade of white, the entire townhouse will collapse in on itself.

Your cart is full of things you’re ninety percent sure you don’t need: painter’s tape, a stud finder you don’t remember grabbing, a replacement filter for the furnace you forgot to measure. You’re determined to get in and out without making eye contact with anyone.

Your phone buzzes again, and you answer automatically, half expecting it to be the store texting about a pickup order.

Instead, Lottie’s voice pours into your ear, bright and animated.

“Babe, oh my God—you will not believe what I just found.”

You exhale a laugh. “Please don’t say it’s another aztec flower pot.”

“No,” she says, sounding delighted. “Better. Listen—there’s this antique mall on Orchard I stopped in on my lunch break—”

You roll your eyes, the last thing you needed was Lottie at the antique mall buying something we certainly didn’t need. “Lottie—”

“Just listen. I’m walking past this stall with all these old books and dishes, and there’s this tea set. Porcelain, with little painted violets. It’s so tiny, like dollhouse tiny, but the cups are real. And there were these wooden toys in the next booth—little carved animals and a pull-along duck—and I was just standing there thinking how perfect they’d be.”

“For what?” you ask cautiously, but you already know. Some deep part of your brain is bracing for impact.

“For our kids,” she says, her voice soft but sure, the way it always is when she’s decided something is meant to be. “I mean—someday. You could build them a little playhouse in the backyard, you know? With a porch and tiny chairs. And in the summer they’d have tea parties out there, with the set I just saw. I could paint murals on the walls—oh, or we could pick wallpaper together, something with animals or flowers—”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. A week. You got a whole week of peace before she circled back to this.

“Lottie—”

“—and I was thinking, you’d be such a good parent, you know? You’d be the one making the playhouse perfect, measuring every board twice, probably overengineering the whole thing. And I’d—” She breaks off, laughing a little, almost shy. “God, I can just see it.”

You swallow, throat tight, and your eyes flick over the display of paint chips without really seeing them. Because she’s painting a picture so vivid you can’t help stepping into it: a little person running barefoot across your yard. Lottie laughing. You holding a teacup so absurdly small it balances on two fingertips.

You shake your head, a little helpless letting out a conflicted chuckle. “Lottie…my love, you are so funny. I thought we agreed to thinking about it… the opposite of you know…straight into planning.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t sound sorry at all—she sounds flushed with happiness. “I just—can’t you picture it? Really picture it?”

And that’s the worst part. Because you can.

You take a breath, leaning against the cool metal shelf. “Yeah,” you admit quietly. “I can.”

She lets out this little exhale, shaky with feeling, and when she speaks again, her voice is soft and certain in your ear. “God, I just want that with you.”

And there it is—that dangerous warmth, the one that makes you want to say yes to things you’re not ready for. The one that made you build a life with her in the first place.

You clear your throat. Because as much as you might want that one day. It makes zero sense to have one right now. “I know baby. And you will someday, but we’re not buying a doll tea set today.”

“I know,” she sighs, and you hear the smile in her voice. “But maybe someday.”

“Someday,” you echo, voice barely above a whisper.

And as you hang up and turn back to the wall of paint samples, you realize, with an almost amused dread, that she’s going to wear you down eventually.

It started to become routine. A few days past and a baby mention. Or suddenly a baby related item appeared. Or a funny joke is made about oh wow babies. You almost were getting used to it. The baby fever that Lottie was clearly so infected by.

That the morning starts like any other.

You’re bleary-eyed in the kitchen, barefoot, trying to remember if you already put the coffee grounds in the filter. Lottie’s still in bed, though you can hear her stirring upstairs—drawers opening, the faint rustle of sheets as she stretches herself awake.

The townhouse is quiet except for the burble of the coffee machine and the birds outside the kitchen window. Sunlight spills across the counter, catching the absurd little ceramic sugar bowl she insisted on buying.

You pour a glass of juice and take a cautious sip, savoring the cold sweetness. For a moment, you think maybe you’ve made it through a whole day—maybe even two—without hearing the word baby.

You hear her before you see her: the soft pad of her feet on the stairs, the muffled yawn. She appears in the doorway, hair tangled, wearing one of your old shirts. Her face is luminous in that way it always is when she’s still half in a dream.

“Morning,” you say, voice still scratchy with sleep.

“Morning,” she murmurs, and crosses to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. She smells like your shampoo and the lavender lotion she uses at night.

You press a kiss to her hairline. “Coffee’s almost ready.”

“Mm. Good.” She leans back just enough to look up at you, her eyes bright. “I had the most amazing dream.”

Your stomach dips. You’ve learned to be suspicious of her dreams. They differ from being silly to prophecy around here.

“Oh?” you say carefully, trying to keep your tone neutral.

She nods, practically glowing. “Yeah. We had a baby. She had my hair, all these little dark curls, and my skin. But she looked so much like you.”

You take another swallow of juice, which, in retrospect, is a mistake.

“And I’d just given birth,” Lottie goes on, oblivious, “and you came in carrying her big sister—she must’ve been, I don’t know, five? She had these huge eyes, exactly your color. She was so excited. She climbed up on the bed to see the baby, and you—” Her voice goes a little soft. “You were looking at me like you were about to cry.”

You set the glass down, very carefully, because you’re pretty sure if you keep holding it you will drop it.

Lottie sighs, dropping her head against your shoulder. “It felt so real. Like…like it wasn’t a dream at all. Just…a memory from the future.”

You feel something tighten in your throat. “Lottie…”

She doesn’t look up, doesn’t seem to hear the tremor in your voice. “I can still feel her, you know? How warm she was. How soft her hair was. Like she was really here.”

You reach for something to say, but nothing comes out. Because this isn’t just a passing fancy for her—it’s becoming a vision she believes in with her whole heart.

And you…unfortunately are starting to believe she might be right.

Your hand rests on the back of her neck, fingers sifting through her hair. “You know,” you say hoarsely, “if you keep having these dreams…I don’t know if I’m going to have the heart to keep telling you no.”

She finally looks up, eyes shining with that fierce, tender certainty that always unravels you. “I know,” she says softly. “That’s why I keep telling you about them.”

You try to smile, but it comes out a little wobbly. The coffee machine beeps behind you, startling you both. You turn away, grateful for the excuse to breathe.

When you hand her, her mug, she’s still glowing, still lost in the afterimage of the life she’s certain is waiting for you both. And you stand there, clutching your orange juice, feeling the slow, inexorable shift inside you.

Because you’re not ready. Not even close. But you’re starting to think someday…you might be.

It’s late afternoon when it happens.

You’re out with Tai, who’s known you since college, walking the rows of little shops that have started putting out pumpkins and crates of apples. The air smells like woodsmoke and cinnamon. The sky is that crisp, washed-out blue that only comes at the end of September.

You’re half-listening to Tai talk about her new job, a to-go cup warming your hands, when you see her.

Just a little girl, maybe three years old, standing by the display of gourds outside a florist’s shop. She’s wearing a tiny corduroy pinafore over mustard-yellow leggings. Her hair is a tumble of dark curls, exactly the color of Lottie’s, so thick it forms a little halo around her face.

She has the same wide brown eyes. The same solemn way of studying the world, like she’s memorizing every detail to ask questions later.

And your heart—your heart just…stops.

It’s ridiculous, how small she is. Tiny hands, tiny legs, but so completely a person. So much like a miniature version of the woman you love that you feel something in your chest unspool.

Tai follows your gaze, then glances back at you, puzzled. “You okay?”

You can’t answer. Because all at once, you get it.

You see Lottie kneeling in the garden, tying a sunhat over hair exactly like hers. You see her showing small hands how to hold a watering can, her face soft and patient in the golden light. You see yourself sitting beside them, pretending not to cry because your heart is too full.

You see Saturday mornings with pancakes and cartoons. Bedtime stories in the big armchair. A thousand quiet moments you didn’t even know you wanted until right this second.

You blink, and your eyes are stinging.

Tai touches your arm gently. “Hey…seriously, what is it?”

You swallow hard, staring at the little girl until her mother comes to scoop her up. She buries her face in her mom’s neck, giggling, her curls bouncing.

And you can’t help but think; I want that. I want her. I want them.

The wanting is so big, so immediate, it feels like a wave breaking over you. You drag in a shaky breath, watching as they disappear into the florist shop.

“I—” You stop, because you don’t know how to say it. Because until now, it was always Lottie dreaming this life into being. You were the one pressing pause, the one saying someday.

But now…you can’t deny it anymore. You want to see her be a mother. You want to build that world with her.

And you have no idea what to do with that knowledge, except hold it very carefully inside you, like something fragile and astonishing. Tai is still watching you, brows raised.

You clear your throat, voice low. “I…I think I’m in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The kind where,” you say slowly, the truth sliding out before you can stop it, “I’m going to fucking compromise on another thing for Lottie.”

Tai’s face softens, and she bumps her shoulder into yours. “That’s not trouble. Call it the beauty of loving with a hint of your girl winning 90% of the time.”

You let out a soft chuckle but don’t say anything else. You’re too busy picturing it: Lottie smiling at you over the top of a crib. A sleepy child tangled between you in bed. The quiet, ordinary miracle of making something together…someone together.

You take another breath, and the air tastes different somehow. Like fall. Like something beginning.

When you came home, Lottie was still out and about running errands. And you decided a surprise was in order. You cleaned the house, made sure to light candles. You ordered dinner from Lottie’s favorite mediterranean restaurant four blocks down. Made sure to set the table as beautifully as you could.

All to watch as Lottie’s face goes from confused to surprised to finally beaming. Her smile is electric the way it seemed to jolt you where you stood.

“Baby? What’s the occasion?” She asks with a grin, dropping her bags near the coach.

You shrug, “Oh you know…just wanted to show you how much I love you.”

She paused, giving you a suspicious look before gliding to you. Her arms draping over your shoulders to get a good look at your face.

“Did you break something?” She asks sternly.

You laugh. “Surprisingly no. I’m actually being serious. I just wanted to show the love of my life the way I love her is infinite.”

She softens instantly. That wary little crease between her brows melts away, and her whole face goes tender.

“God,” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. “You’re going to kill me with this.”

“Hopefully not before dinner,” you say against her mouth, and she laughs, bright and golden, before kissing you again slow and unhurried, her thumb brushing your jaw.

When you finally pull back, she sighs, eyes shiny in the candlelight. “I love you too. More than I can even say.”

“Come on,” you say, taking her hand. “Sit down before everything gets cold.”

You pour her a glass of wine, then settle across from her. For a few minutes, you eat in easy quiet, the clink of silverware and the faint music from the record player filling the space.

It’s so normal, this moment. So domestic and ordinary. And somehow that’s what makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst out of your ribs.

Halfway through your plate, you clear your throat and pick at a piece of pita bread, trying to sound casual.

“So…I’ve been thinking,” you say.

Lottie perks up, always ready for one of your schemes. “Dangerous.”

“Very,” you agree. “But…you know how we keep talking about finally renovating the upstairs rooms?”

Her eyes narrow playfully. “You mean the rooms full of boxes we keep pretending we’re going to unpack someday?”

“Those ones,” you say, fighting a smile. “I was…well, I was thinking it could be nice to actually start planning them out. Deciding what they’re for.”

She tilts her head, studying you in that way she does when she senses there’s more beneath the surface. “Like what?”

You clear your throat, stalling. “Oh, you know. A home gym. An art studio. Maybe a…taxidermy workshop.”

Her brows shoot up. “A what?”

You shrug, deadpan. “You know. Just in case we ever take up taxidermy. Or, I don’t know, a shrine to that cursed Persian tiger.”

Lottie snorts, rolling her eyes. “Be serious.”

“Okay, okay,” you relent, grinning. “I was also thinking maybe…a library. Or a craft room. Or—”

You hesitate. You feel your heart beat once, hard, like it knows what you’re about to say.

“Or,” you say, voice softer now, “I was thinking…a baby’s room.”

The words hang between you, bright and fragile. Lottie goes very still, her hand frozen around her fork. Her lips part, but nothing comes out at first.

Your own voice is trembling when you keep going. “I saw this little girl today—she looked so much like you. And I just… I got it. All of it. Why you keep talking about it. Why you want it so much.”

Her eyes are shining now, wide and searching your face.

You take a breath, your throat tight. “I’m not saying tomorrow. But…definitely someday…soon. I want that with you. I want her. Or him. Or whoever they are.”

For a moment, she doesn’t move. Then she pushes back her chair and comes around the table, dropping to her knees beside you. Her hands are warm and trembling on your cheeks as she kisses you, slow and sure, like she’s sealing some promise you didn’t even know you were ready to make.

When she finally pulls back, she’s smiling through tears. “God,” she whispers. “You have no idea how happy you just made me.”

You close your eyes and let your forehead rest against hers.

“Actually,” you breathe, “I think I do.”

Lottie hums, and shakes her head. “No, I don’t think you do. But I think I can show you.”

Before you can even question what she means, her lips are on yours in the blink of an eye. Her hands grip your waist tightly, as if anchoring herself to you.

You respond without thinking, your fingers finding the back of her neck, pulling her closer. The kiss is urgent now—hungrier, deeper. Like something pent up is finally being let loose.

She shifts, rising from her knees to straddle your lap in the chair, and your hands slide to her thighs, grounding yourself in the warm, familiar feel of her.

The kiss breaks only so she can breathe against your mouth, eyes heavy-lidded, voice breathless. “I’ve wanted this. God, I’ve wanted you like this.”

You thread your fingers into her hair and kiss her again slower this time, but just as intense. She melts against you, her body pressing close, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.

The chair creaks beneath you both, and you pull back with a quiet laugh. “We’re going to break this thing.”

She grins, flushed and wild-eyed. “Good. We’ll burn it for warmth after.”

“Dramatic,” you murmur, already standing, her legs still wrapped around your waist. She squeals softly in surprise and clutches your shoulders, but she’s smiling. Glowing.

“Where are we going?” she whispers against your jaw.

“Where do you think?”

You carry her through the house like she weighs nothing, like she’s something precious. Her mouth finds the crook of your neck. Her hands pull at the hem of your shirt, and your skin burns under her touch.

The hallway is a blur. All you feel is her open mouth kissed and the way she is biting any free real estate of skin. The bedroom door pushes open. You don’t bother with the light.

It’s just you and her now—falling back into the bed, into each other.

Lottie’s lips drag up your neck, and along your jaw. Your hands are underneath her top feelings the warm skin of her waist under your fingertips. When her lips finally find your own Lottie is in control. She leads the kiss into something slower again. More deliberate. Her fingers trail down your side, your arm, curling over your ribs like she’s memorizing every inch.

You kiss her like she’s your answer. She touches you like she already knows. Somewhere between the warmth of her skin and the softness of her voice, you realize this is what saying yes looks like. This is what wanting looks like.

Not just the wanting of now—but the wanting of a future. And for the first time, you feel almost stupid for being afraid of wanting it.

All while being lost in thought Lottie’s hands slip underneath your shirt, trail up your stomach and they reach your boobs. You never wore a bra at home, which tonight Lottie was thankful for. She flicked and then pinched your nipple. And when you moan at the feeling her tongue takes advantage and slips into your mouth.

All you can think is; Well played.

She’s swirling her tongue around yours. Taking the lead in this dance. And you let her. Let her have her way, almost recompense for making her wait so long to agree.

You let her hands pinch and grope you. You let buck into your lower abdomen. You in fact help the rhythm of her subtle grind. She halts suddenly.

Her eyes are wide as she pulls away from you and string of saliva connecting you two. You feel your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. Lottie smiled before removing herself from you completely.

She stands to strip fully. Your breath hitches and your eyes locked on her body. Lottie finally lets out a sweet breathy laugh.

“Baby, you going to strip too or are you going to just watch me? Because personally I’m trying to get a jump on baby making.” Lottie teases.

You feel your face flush red, and you nod your head quickly. “Shit yeah, my bad.” you mumbled.

Sitting up you remove your shirt in sudden motion and you maneuver your pants and boxer off as quickly as you could. And before you could reach back out to your love, she was walking away.

You froze confused, but then your heart picked up when you saw her walking to your shared closet. You knew exactly what she was grabbing. You swallowed hard as she grabbed the strap harness.

She looked at you over her shoulder with a childlike giddy. You couldn’t help the butterflies that seemed to manifest in your stomach at that look. Or the deep desire you had to make her feel everything she needed and wanted to feel.

She motioned for you to come closer. You expected her to put the harness on you. Yet instead she chuckles, “Help me put this on, I always have a hard time with tightening it properly.”

You feel like heart race in realization. You nod and reach out to help her. All while feeling your need triple. Whenever Lottie used that damn strap on you, you weren’t leaving the room until you had at least 5 orgasms, you couldn’t walk, and your voice was hoarse.

And she had this glint in her eye. Her hands were threading themselves into your hair as you finished the last of it. You tapped her thigh lovingly and looked up at her from on your knees.

Lottie looked down at you and her eyes were hooded with desire. “So I have a surprise for you.”

Thats how you ended up, eyes wide still on your knees face to face with a brand new strap Lottie bought. You moved your hands to the base of the strap and started to pump it, licking at the tip.

All while feeling Lottie’s eyes on me. You could picture her mouth just slightly agape. Lottie nudges you closer, and you know what she wants.

You look up at her with a small smile, before taking her tip into your mouth. The rush of pride that buzzed within you when you heard Lottie groan.

Moments like that make it hard to forget she couldn’t feel you really. Lottie never acted or sounded like that was the truth though. She was so fucking vocal, so breathless, so affected by you. It only spurred you on. You took more of her, letting your head bob up and down her shaft.

Lottie took a shaky exhale, her grip on your hair tightening. “Fuuuuck you’re so pretty-f-fuck.” she moaned out.

The more you took the more impatient Lottie got. Thrusting up, into your mouth. Chasing her own high, wanting to hear you gag. Finally when her thighs begin to tremble you tap her to stop.

Lottie jolts to a pause. Her face is twisted in disappointment and concern. Her chest rising and falling, fingertips frozen at her sides. You catch your breath before kissing her thigh.

“Want you inside me.” You explain into the skin of her leg.

Lottie swallowed hard. She was practically dripping at the scene before her. You looking up her so soft. With so much need. Lottie didn’t even understand what she did to deserve this.

She nods, not even trusting her voice anymore. And gently grabs your face in her hands to pull you to your face. Her lips land on your jaw, “Go lie down then,” she mumbles.

You were a mess, “shit lot,” you mumbled breathlessly, as Lottie continues to grind against your folds. Dragging that damn strap all across your entrance spreading your wetness around it. You basically makeshift your own special lube on her cock, the way you’re dripping.

Lottie’s lips kiss you with all the intention in the world. Her hand was tightly gripping your thigh. You kiss her back with soft pants, breaking your rhythm.

“I thought about this so many times. I thought about you like this. That this would—“ She didn’t have to finish for you to know what she meant.

She wanted to be the one to get me pregnant. Actually…truly. Something about that knocked the air out of you.

Finally, she slides into you, and you gasp. This strap was so much bigger than the others. She very slowly but steadily bottoms out. The stretch has you whining in Lottie’s ear. Your arms wrapped around her tightly, her face is buried in your neck. As she gives you time to adjust.

She said it was a surprise. Your imagination had run through various reasons why it would be a surprise. Finally after a beat she moves, snapping her hips back then against yours to slam back into you.

That was the thing about Lottie, she knew you could take it. She knew you could handle all of her, and she knew you wanted it. So she had no shame in being rough as she pounded into you.

Or maybe she was just desperate for you to feel her. Feel all of her inside you. To have your insides clench and mold themselves around the shape of only her.

She fiddled with your clit, as she rutted into all the right spots. She was just far enough to see your face, gauge your reaction. Know what to keep doing and how much of it to get you to cum.

But she was also just so loud, groaning and panting like she could feel you. Mumbling how good you felt around her. What a good girl you were. How excited she was to see you as a mom.

It was unraveling you by the second. You knew it wouldn’t be long. Lottie could tell by the way your nails dug onto her back hot anger lines. The way your legs were beginning to lock her hips down into you.

You were so close. Fuck Lottie was getting off this so much she was so close. She doubled her efforts, pounding harder and harder. Hoping to get you there faster. Wanting you to be splintered open for her.

She was desperate for it.

You couldn’t even speak mumbling a faint “M so close baby.”

And all it took was one more hard snap of her hips, and you folded. You came hard. Pulling Lottie flushed into you. Lottie rutted her hips trying to fuck you through your orgasm.

And finally as you laid still, she picked up the pace of her thrusts and you start were a mess. “Fuck fuck lot. Baby hold on.” your voice hoarse.

Lottie ignored you, she ignored you kept fucking a harsh pace. Chasing her own high? Dragging another orgasm out of you? You didn’t know. You just knew you were seeing white and the dissent into another orgasm was quick.

Lottie finally rumbled a fuck into your neck and you felt something spill into you. Holy shit? Lottie dumped her release inside you, soaking your slit with herself. The revelation alone pushed you over the edge with her, your eyes squeezed shut.

You were panting for air, your legs trembling and Lottie’s body laid on top of yours. She had a dumb ass smile on her lips. Her strap still inside you. Leaving you feeling so full and…well complete.

“You’re going to look so fucking beautiful pregnant.” She sighed out.

And just like that Lottie won….again.

The backyard smells like charcoal and rosemary. Someone put on a playlist that’s mostly 90s pop, and you’re half-listening to it while balancing a sweating glass of lemonade on your belly.

Your belly.

It’s so fucking insane to you. After several appointments and ivf treatments you were actually pregnant. You’re still getting used to thinking of it that way. That you were casually creating some tiny person in your stomach.

Crazy.

Lottie certainly has no trouble. She’s practically glued to you these days, one hand always drifting absently to the swell of your bump like she needs to reassure herself you’re both real.

You’re sitting on a big striped blanket under the oak tree. Around you, your friends and a scattering of your relatives are chatting, drinking, passing around platters of grilled vegetables. It’s warm, a little sticky with the late summer heat, but you can’t quite bring yourself to complain.

Because Lottie is sitting behind you, her arms wrapped around your waist, her cheek resting against your shoulder. And she is—God help you—telling the story again.

“I swear, it was the little girl at the farmer’s market that did it,” she’s saying, her voice all soft and starry-eyed. She lifts her hand to gesture, nearly tipping your lemonade in the process. “She looked just like her. Same eyes, same expression. And I just knew. I knew if I kept talking about it, you know painting the picture, eventually she’d see it too.”

Your distant cousin Mariah, who you haven’t seen since you were twelve, is nodding politely. “Wow,” she says, clearly not sure what else to add.

“And then,” Lottie goes on, oblivious, “she came home one day and started talking about renovating the upstairs rooms. And I knew—I knew she was going to say it. So when she started listing all these ridiculous ideas, and like ridiculous. She said what was baby? TAXIDERMY?? A goddamn taxidermy room?? Can you believe—”

“God,” you groan, tipping your head back against her. “You make it sound like you hypnotized me.”

Lottie beams and kisses your temple. “Did I?”

“Maybe,” you mutter, but you can’t keep the smile from your voice.

Mariah laughs, shaking her head. “Well, however it happened, I’m so excited for you two!”

Lottie’s hand slides back over your belly, her thumb stroking a slow circle. “We are too,” she agrees softly, her voice almost reverent. “I still can’t believe it. Every morning I wake up and I’m like—we made this.”

Your heart does that dangerous little flip it always does when she talks like that.

You roll your eyes, but you reach back to squeeze her knee. “You’re soooooo disgustingly in love with me, you know that?”

She leans forward so her mouth brushes your ear. “Yeah,” she whispers, grinning. “And I’m never going to stop. Sue me.”

You sigh and take another sip of lemonade, feeling her arms tighten around you, her hand warm and steady over the life you made together.

And for once, you don’t mind her telling the story again. Because it’s yours. Because it’s true. Because you can’t quite believe it either. Or how Lottie Matthews seemed to always win the game of compromises.

#lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #yellowjackets #lottie mathews x reader #lottie yellowjackets #taissa turner #charlotte matthews #yellowjackets x you #lottie matthews smut

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bbina · 2 days ago

Text

its safe to say you didn't get much sleep

the sheer thought of your new routine starting today wherein your boss would start driving you to and from work just kept you up all night tossing and turning

thinking about how a kind gesture led up to this?

but somehow deep inside, you feel like it's just some fluke. maybe bossman was just tired and cranky last night. the joint meeting did take four hours of everyone's time of day yesterday

yeah. maybe it really is just a fluke. just some in the heat of the moment type beat. chenle probably already forgot about it in his sleep

since you barely slept at all, you woke up a tad bit earlier than your set alarm so you took your sweet time getting ready for the day. for the first time in a long time, you were able to brew your own coffee today. you actually had time to prepare which has become rare these past few weeks

by the time you had finished doing everything, it was already 7:30 AM. you made a mental note to get a move on so you could catch the next bus by 7:45 since it takes 30 minutes to get to work from your apartment

you were taking your sweet time gathering your things for the day when your phone vibrates three consecutive times and then you get a call

your eyes widened when you read the I.D caller

fuck.

letting it ring two more times, you accept the call

"hello–"

"you're late" chenle cuts you off

your brows furrow, checking the time. it's 7:31

"huh? i'm not" you say, "i clock in at 8:30 case you forgot"

on the other end of the line you can hear chenle scoff

"didn't i say i'd be here at 7:30 sharp last night? and i told you not to be late"

your blood runs cold. what did he mean by that? was he actually downstairs?

you run up to your window that was facing the road. you look down below, trying to identify chenle's car and holy fucking shit. he was actually being serious last night

there he was, in front of the entrance of your apartment building. his sleek black car that you've ruined the seats of, parked directly in front with chenle leaning back on the car doors with his phone up against his ear

he really kept his word, huh

"i see you. you're already ready after all. i'll see you down here" and with that, he ends the call

you blink once. twice. going thrice before you let out a strangled scream

your phone vibrates in your hand again. you open your phone to see it was a message from chenle

[7:36 AM] Sir Zhong (Boss): we're going to be late. [7:36 AM] Sir Zhong (Boss): don't make me come up there [7:37 AM] you: ALRIGHT. I'M COMING DOWN ALREADY [7:37 AM] Sir Zhong (Boss): finally. jesus. i'm deducting a small cut from your pay for making me wait this long [7:37 AM] you: for making you wait 5 minutes??? [7:38 AM] Sir Zhong (Boss): time is money [7:38 AM] Sir Zhong (Boss): why are you still texting me maybe if you just get down already maybe we could've had this conversation in real life

chenle sees that you've read his message and pockets his phone. he clicks in tongue in annoyance once more when he checks the time on his watch for the nth time today (it's been 5 minutes)

he thought you had understood his new implemented rule last night. did he not sound serious enough through text?

chenle was about to send another message when you finally walk out of the door

"good morning, boss" you greet, walking up to him while adjusting the straps of your bag

chenle narrows his eyes, "don't 'good morning' me. you're late" he says sternly, fishing out his car keys. "i told you i'd be here 7:30 sharp"

you purse your lips together, walking around the car to get to the passenger side. "i didn't think you were being serious.." you muttered

chenle's eyebrows shoot up and you instantly cower

"you've been working with me for a month and you still don't know when i'm being serious or not?" he says incredulous

"okay fine i'm sorry!" you stomp your foot like a child, "i thought it was just a fluke and you'd forget about it in the morning, turns out i'm wrong and you were being serious after all"

chenle scoffs, unlocking the car and getting in. you follow suit and close the door immediately. when you get in, you realized this was the car which seats you've ruined. he had changed the color of it. it went from brown to black

"well now you know i'm a man of my word" chenle huffs, bringing the engine to life. "you ready?" he asks, turning to you. you nod your head yes and he hums

his hand turns the gear shift to reverse and he starts to back out of the curb and before you know it, you were on the main road on the way to the company

the drive for the most part was silent. save the occasional mutters from chenle about getting caught in a red light or how the radio was playing shitty songs. luckily he didn't strike a conversation

and before you know it, you two have arrived at the company. chenle quickly parks at his designated parking spot and turns off the car but he didn't get out just yet. you two were just in there, in silence, unsure whether to leave already or not

"so who's getting out first.. me or you" chenle starts, staring at the dashboard. if he was being honest, he didn't really mind if people see but he's not exactly ready to explain what prompted him into clocking in at work together with his assistant when he was notorious for doing things alone

hell, he doesn't even come in with kun to work unless it's absolutely necessary like an important VVIP client was visiting and he had to be the first one to open the office

things like that. definitely not things like this

"uhh..." you paused, thinking about a good escape plan. "i think it would be best if i walked out first? since there's barely anyone in the parking lot" you suggest

chenle shrugs, not really caring who gets out first

"okay"

"okay.." you repeat, blinking at chenle who just leans back and whips out his phone. you look down at your lap before you look at the door. taking a deep breath, you put on the straps of your bag on your shoulder and open the door first. "thanks for the ride.. boss"

chenle just nods and continues to scroll through his phone

you take a good look around your surroundings. since it was still kind of early, it was basically a ghost town so you take this time to get to the front doors without any drawing suspicions from any employee whether they were a janitor or interns. word can spread around fast in office settings

when you finally enter the building, it almost feels like you just won a marathon. why did that walk from the parking lot feel like it was 5 kilometers away. maybe your thoughts were becoming excess baggage from overthinking everything

like what if anyone saw you getting out of chenle's car? what if someone found out that chenle had implemented a new rule last night that he'd start driving you home after jeno offered to? what if—

"good morning, my work bestie!" hyuck's voice rings your ears, greeting you at the front desk

fuck. the one person you hoped and prayed you wouldn't bump into first thing in the morning today specifically

"g-good morning!" you stammer, completely fucking yourself over. why were you so nervous for no reason?

hyuck raises a brow, a little skeptical at your reaction. why were you acting weird when the day barely started, let alone you just clocked in at the same time as he did

before hyuck could even ask a question, the man of the hour walks in

"boss man clocking in this early?! oh today is going to be a long day" hyuck exclaims in the middle of the lobby, causing a few visitors to look at him in bewilderment

chenle gives him a look before smiling at his receptionists, greeting them warmly

"good morning everyone" chenle greets cooly, he then nods to you in acknowledgment. "morning, assistant" he teases, smirking to himself when he notices you freeze for a second

you actually can't believe him right now. acting like he didn't just show up at your apartment early this morning to drive you to work. like you two weren't just in the same car for the past hour

you almost forgot that you were with hyuck at that exact moment. because the way he was shaking your shoulder vigorously asking why boss man was teasing you this early on in the morning

"hey what's up with that look bossman just gave you? you two have inside jokes now?! SPILL PLEASE" hyuck shoots out questions every 5 seconds

"what look are you talking about? you mean the same look he torments me with every waking day? yeah.. no" you shut him down before he could even start instigating or worse, making things up

hyuck cackles and pushes you towards the elevator where chenle was currently waiting in

"oh look at that! boss man is still here" hyuck muses, getting in the elevator with you in tow. "feels weird seeing you this early dude" hyuck wraps his arm around chenle's who just chuckles

"figured i need to start showing up more especially to my employees so that they could actually admire their boss" chenle boasts. to you however it almost sounds like a jab towards jeno who boasted (or at least, you think that's what chenle felt when he heard jeno say it last night) about how he treats his employees well

"you got my respect no matter what, dude" hyuck smiles widely at chenle

hyuck suddenly gets a call and excuses himself to the other side of the elevator. chenle takes this time to press the button to his floor. you could've done it for him since you were standing right in front of the elevator buttons but chenle had other plans

chenle leans a little too close for your liking and mumbles something to your ear. just loud enough for you to hear

"don't be late again tomorrow or i'll start charging late fees"

BUSINESS PROPOSAL ᝰ.ᐟ . . . CHAUFFEUR

✎ . . . things aren't going as planned the way you thought it was going to be. especially the part where you find yourself falling in love with your own boss– which was definitely not part of the agreed proposal.

[ PREV / NEXT ]

✎ AUTHORS NOTE . . . chenle is so hot i cry every time i remember

✎ TAGLIST . . . @mrkleelvr @jenodigital @https-dandelion @rik0shii @spacejip @yyangj3lly @multifandomania @taroddori @222brainrot @amouriu @defzcl @va1entinaa @carelessshootanonymous @onlywonb @flaminghotyourmom @do-you-remember-summer-127 @grimlinshere @yayayaiheardyouthefirsttime @hoeingthefuckup @meltinghershey @alwayswook @dutifullyannoyingstrawberrie @dudekiss3r @sibwol @mey-archive @morklee02 @httpsxnox @firydst @yuyita-rosier @ayukas @cottonjaems @monomya @neocults26 @greenyweirdo @cinneorolls @morkleesgirl @jising-jisang-jisung

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understeeringirl · 1 day ago

Text

Everything we're not saying

summary: the pretending is starting to crack. after the villa trip, everything is a little too quiet, a little too careful. lando begins pulling away—not out of malice, but because he’s scared of how real everything is starting to feel. you don't understand why, only that something is shifting. a forgotten hangout, a joke that lands wrong, a modeling shoot that doesn’t go to plan, and a silence that lingers too long. the slow unravel begins here. warnings: emotional repression, offhand comments, missed plans, social media pressure, modeling industry stress, loneliness, subtle heartbreak pairing: lando norris x fem!reader word count: 2k series: wrong side of the camera - intro - chapter one - chapter two - chapter three - chapter four - chapter five

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

You’re side by side on a couch for some lighthearted video. The kind where you’re supposed to be cute and charming and media-friendly.

The host beams. “You two are adorable. Clearly inseparable.”

You smile. “We try.”

Lando grins, but it’s sharp around the edges. “We see each other enough to get sick of it.”

The host laughs. So do the crew. You even laugh, because that’s your job. Laugh, smile, be unbothered.

But when you glance at him, his smile is already gone.

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

There’s something about the silence that gets to you first.

It’s not obvious. Not loud. Just... off.

The messages take longer to come in. The calls are shorter. The jokes, when they land, don’t linger the way they used to. Something's pulling tight around your chest, a quiet unease you can't name. You tell yourself it's just your own overthinking. That nothing's changed.

But it has.

You feel it the most when he forgets about dinner.

It had been a casual plan—not even a plan, really. Just a "Let’s hang out after your shoot," said three days ago in a voice note you played back twice because you liked how warm he sounded. You hadn’t confirmed it again, because you never needed to. You and Lando didn’t confirm things. You just showed up.

So you do. You show up for him.

You order in from that Thai place he likes. Set out your favorite blanket on the couch. Queue up the movie you always joke about rewatching. Put your phone on loud.

Nothing.

You check Instagram. His story’s active — he’s at dinner. A tagged photo from Oscar’s account shows Lando laughing, head tipped back, wine glass in hand.

You weren’t invited.

Eventually, you text him.

you alive or did the sim rig finally kill you

He replies forty minutes later.

shit i’m so sorry. got roped into dinner w the team. didn’t realize the time

You stare at the message for a full minute.

He doesn’t offer to call. Doesn’t say he’ll make it up to you. Doesn’t even send a voice note, which is his usual version of guilt.

Just sorry. Just late.

Just not here.

You sit with that for a while. You think about texting back something easy. Something light, like no worries or all good. But it sticks in your throat.

You don’t say anything, but two nights later, you try again.

It’s late. You’re curled up in your hoodie, makeup off, phone in hand. You type it before you can second-guess yourself.

come over tomorrow? no content. just us.

He replies almost instantly.

yeah. can’t wait.

It makes you smile. Makes your chest feel like maybe you were wrong. Maybe it’s still okay.

You spend the next day waiting. You don’t put on real clothes, just stay in the sweatshirt he left at your place last month. You don’t scroll too far, just refresh your texts. You think about what you’ll say when he walks in the door.

He doesn’t.

The sky outside goes pink, then dark. The movie plays twice on the screen without anyone watching. Your phone stays quiet.

You fall asleep on the couch.

At 12:48 a.m., a buzz.

shit. lost track of time. sorry xx

You stare at the message. No voice note. No call. Just three careless words and two kisses.

You want to believe him. You really do.

But something about the way he says it makes it harder than usual.

It gets weirder after that.

He still comments on your posts. Still likes your stories. Still sends the occasional meme or TikTok that reminds him of you. But there's something behind it that feels automated. Careful. Like he's performing closeness instead of living in it.

You chalk it up to a busy schedule. A weird week. Maybe he’s just tired. Maybe you are too.

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

It’s three days later when the next crack forms.

You’re not watching the stream. You’re shooting in Milan. You’re smiling for cameras and being zipped into your fifth outfit of the day when your phone buzzes with a screenshot in your group chat.

lando wtf

why would he say that?

You click the clip without thinking.

He’s mid-stream, grinning. Someone in chat must’ve asked about you — about your job.

He laughs, says, “Yeah, she’s got that influencer job where you tan and smile for cameras. Real exhausting.”

The chat explodes. Emojis, “LOL”s, clipped reactions.

You freeze in the makeup chair.

It was a joke. You know that. You know his voice well enough to hear the tease in it.

But it’s not the joke itself — it’s the distance in it. The way it feels like he’s already placing you on the outside of his world, holding you up for display.

By the time the clip makes it to Twitter, it’s everywhere.

Lando roasting his girlfriend 🤣🤣 Tbh he’s not wrong That relationship's got days numbered

You close the app.

You go back to set.

You don’t cry until after they call wrap.

That night, you lie in bed, eyes on the ceiling, wondering how something that felt so safe could start to feel so uncertain.

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

The next time you see him is at a brand event. Cameras, champagne, fast smiles. You’re in heels you can barely stand in, posing for photos while pretending your heart’s not chewing its way through your ribs.

He stands beside you during the press wall photos. You feel the heat of him beside you — but not his touch. Not like before.

He doesn’t tuck a hand into your waist. Doesn’t whisper anything stupid in your ear to make you laugh.

He smiles for the cameras. That perfect, polished, nothing’s-wrong smile.

When the flash dies, you reach for his hand without thinking.

He adjusts his sunglasses instead.

You let your hand fall like it was never reaching at all.

He keeps glancing at his phone. You pretend not to notice.

Later that night, you’re sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, makeup off, legs crossed, Lando scrolling his phone beside you.

You look at him, softly.

“I liked this better when it was just ours,” you murmur. “Before the cameras.”

He doesn’t look up.

“Yeah, well,” he says, quiet but firm. “That’s the price of pretending.”

Your breath catches. You don’t know what you expected. Not that.

You nod. You don’t trust your voice enough to answer.

He turns off the light.

You lie there in the dark, back to back, close but never farther.

You don’t sleep.

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

A few nights later, your phone rings. It’s Lando.

You debate not answering. You answer anyway.

"Hey," he says. His voice is soft. Tired.

"Hi."

A pause.

"Sorry about the other day. I should’ve called. I just—things have been mad."

"It’s okay," you say. Because what else can you say?

Another silence. Then: "I didn’t mean that comment on stream the way it sounded."

You want to say, Then why did you say it like that?

You want to ask if he meant it anyway.

Instead, you just hum. "I know. It’s fine."

But it’s not. And you think he hears that in your voice.

"I miss you," he says.

And you almost believe it.

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

The next day, you’re on set for a shoot. A swimwear campaign—minimal coverage, maximum pressure. You’d asked him to come by weeks ago. Just to hang around. Be a familiar face.

He’d said yes. Smiled when he said it.

He doesn’t show.

You don’t hear anything. No text. No sorry. Not even a heart emoji.

The stylist asks you to smile more. The director keeps repositioning you like a doll. The sun’s hot on your skin, and all you can think about is how you never used to care who was watching—until now.

At one point, they ask for something “more playful.” You try. Toss your hair, tilt your chin, pretend you’re not one breath away from crying.

You pull it together, of course. You’re good at that. A pro. But you feel the cracks. The effort it takes to be what they need when you’re not even sure what you are to him anymore.

During a break, one of the brand reps laughs and says, "Where’s your other half? Thought this campaign was couple-coded."

You fake a smile. “He’s busy.”

They nod like they understand. You think they do.

That night, you post one of the pictures.

Caption: Still smiling.

He doesn’t like it.

But the internet does.

Within hours, the post is everywhere—Twitter, Instagram, reposted by fan accounts and fashion pages. You look polished. Confident. The kind of photo people mistake for happiness.

You read the comments anyway, because you’re masochistic like that.

She’s glowing lately. No wonder Lando’s been quiet. This isn’t what a girlfriend post looks like.

That last one sits funny in your chest. You don’t even know why. Maybe because it’s true. Maybe because it isn’t.

You don’t sleep much that night. You stare at the ceiling, thinking about how long you’ve been performing: for cameras, for campaigns, for other people’s definitions of what it means to be desirable. And lately—for him.

You think about how, at the start, pretending had felt almost like a secret you both shared. Now it feels like you’re the only one still pretending.

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

The next morning is overcast and cold. You shoot in a studio this time, and everything is harsher under fluorescent lights.

The theme is “power.” Leather, boots, smoky eyeliner. It’s not your favorite.

One of the photographers asks if you can do the look “a little colder.” You say yes. You’re good at cold now.

You’re between takes when you hear two assistants whispering behind a rack of clothes. Your name, soft and sharp at once.

“She’s the one dating the F1 guy, right?” “I thought it was real at first, but she looks miserable lately.” “Can you blame him if he’s moved on? She’s kind of intense.”

You freeze.

You’re not even sure why it hits you so hard. You’ve heard worse. Been told worse. But the implication sticks—that you are too much. That he left. That you weren’t enough.

You finish the shoot. You smile in the photos. You nail the brief.

But when you get home, you cry in the shower and don't even know which part hurt the most.

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

You stop reaching out first.

The space between texts stretches.

Your friends start asking if you’re okay. If he’s okay. You lie. Say yes. Pretend it's all still smooth, still under control. But the photos from the villa feel like a lifetime ago.

And that night comes back to you in pieces.

The blanket. His voice in the dark. The way he looked at you like he wanted to stay there forever. The way you let yourself believe he might.

You keep trying to forget.

He already has.

That night, you open your messages, record a voice note.

"Hey. Today was long. I, um… was thinking about the villa. And your dumb pancakes. Miss you. That’s all."

You almost delete it. You send it instead.

He plays it. You see the little icon shift.

He doesn’t reply.

You go to sleep that night with your phone on your chest. It doesn't light up.

You wake up and check it anyway.

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

sooo... this is the chapter were it starts to unravel. but don't worry, things are still salvageable (or maybe not?) hope you like this one! let me know what you think about it

see you next lap,

-N 🏁

#f1 x reader #understeeringirl logs #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #lando fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando x reader

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abbysreal-wife · 1 day ago

Text

Dark paradise

Pirate!Caitlyn x Siren!Reader

Dark paradise

Im lying in the ocean singing your song

Aaa

That’s how you sang it

— Lana Del Rey

————————————————————————

Summary:: The icence seas. Dangerous places for pirates. Should’ve turned around when they had the chance.

Tags:: (kinda) Leading on, seducing

A/N:: listen yall….. I know ts is ass okay so stop talking……

Little notes!: Caitlyn and vi used to date, this takes place in the 17th century but I will NOT be writing how they talked back then (idk how to without sounding like an idiot), powder— is just jinx in the AU (duh…), Maddie is mentioned if you don’t like her disrespectfully leave😒 reader kinda gives off succubus vibes, and reader gets lowkey confident at the end, ALSO, the fumes you ‘give off’ is like idk??? Sexual stuff…. YOULL SEE….

ANOTHER THING, thank you @korn-dawg yk what for…..

Currently playing…

————————————————————————

The waves crashed against the shore.

The boat left a low croak in the air as it continuously sailed against the thick water.

“Well, we’re lost now.” Caitlyn’s thick accent spoke out to the other passengers, Vi, powder, & maddie. “It’s because of the storm, don’t blame yourself, captain.”

Caitlyn pulled away from the stained paper map “yes, I know Maddie but.. it’s easy to get lost out in these seas.”

Vi sighed “maybe if we turned around we could go back to our original path”

Powder shook her head “it wouldn’t work out, the storm travels in circles, no?” Her raspy voice spoke out to the others.

Heeled boots hit the ground as caitlyn made her way to the much larger paper map which was hanging on by rusted nails and other old tools.

“Well might need to go to the icence seas.”

Caitlyns comment made the room go silent.

The icence seas.

Also known as “siren seas” because the many sightings of sirens “Absolutely not!” VI’s voice protested

“Captain, I mean no harm, and I’m not trying be disrespectful or rude but, have you not heard the things the other treasurers see out there?” Maddies comment was filled with concern.

Caitlyns jaw clenched your jaw hearing the girls desperate cries.

“The people say—“ you cut off powders sentence by huffing loudly “I know what heard, powder. That’s why I’m gonna prove them wrong.”

Cait was always the brave type, but never this brave.

She was practically giving everyone’s life away, like a cross trade between two people.

“Let’s get to moving then, shall we?” Caitlyn bellowed.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

It was well after dark now.

“We’re here, ma’am” maddie announced to caitlyn and the other passengers.

The boat was low, dark, scary even, lighting candles the four all made their way down to the hull.

“We’ve made it to the icence seas.”

“Safely” Caitlyn added.

Powder sighed leaning back on the chairs back legs “barely, the storm almost caught up to us, again.”

“Don’t make a big fuss about it, we all still have our limbs and we’re all still breathing” vi replied to powders complain.

“Where do we go now, captain?” Maddie asked.

Her question was a question everyone had but didn’t wanna say aloud “I don’t know.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

Under the dark seas.

“It’s not fair how she gets to get babied and she hasn’t lured not one person!” Your sister complained to your mother and father.

Your sister; Anastasia has been complaining for the last few weeks about how you haven’t got not one kill but still gets “babied” which wasn’t true in your eyes.

“Enough whining, child, she’s the youngest here and she needs time” your mother told off the red haired girl sitting beside you.

Ivelle; your other sister came up behind you. You watched as Anastasia and your mother continuously talked about you and other things of some sort.

“Don’t worry, Anastasia has always been the jealous type” ivelles low angelic voice gave you chills down your spine. You spun around facing her “I don’t know, she’s kinda true. I should have a lure by now.”

She sighed softly “you just need to sing louder, your voice is very soft”

Louder.

That word caught your attention.

“Thank you, ivelle, i appreciate it”

“Arise you three, a ship has been spotted amongst our seas” your father’s voice boomed out to you and your two sisters.

“God bless these humans… they will never learn will they” your mother sighed playing with the pearls on her neck.

“Does [౨ৎ˚₊] have to come? She’s just wasting time” Anastasia coldly asked your father who was standing know the door way.

Your father’s gaze shifted towards Anastasia “Enough, Anastasia. You don’t need to criticize your sister, me and your mother will discuss the situation later”

You laid your head low while passing by everyone in the room.

“I’ll take north, you take east, and you.. Anastasia paused when she came to you “you can take south, it’ll be easier.”

“Storms are bigger towards the south, sister, I’m sure you’ll lure lots.” Ivelle softly smiled at you, her webbed hand resting still on your shoulder.

You just smiled back and started your journey south.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪˚₊

“How on earth did we sail south?!” Vis voice was loud, a fright fell behind her tone, that’s not usual.

Caitlyn just rubbed her forehead with frustration, “no need for yelling, I’m sure we just forgot to put the anchor down”

Everyone’s head turned to powder.

“Guys, I told you that the anchor is too heavy for me to carry, multiple times.” Powder admitted, she sat down in a chair, legs in a manspread.

Vi slammed her cup down, causing a vibration to run through the table as it knocked a few other things down.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Powder shyed away, face red from embarrassment “I tried to, none of you guys helped me..”

“God, you see, this is why we don’t bring young people on board, cause of stupid shit like th-“

“Enough, vi. — Caitlyn’s face was puzzled, like she was trying to hear something from a distant “do you guys hear that?”

An angelic voice cried out from the seas, it cause all of them to turn their heads, Caitlyn pointed two fingers to the stairs leading up to the deck.

Once on the deck the four women immediately drew swords.

Whispers and songs could be heard.

Then a tail flapping out the waters.

The dark skies made everything seem like it was just a hallucination.

Lighting struck afar.

The songs grew louder, stronger, all of their heads started to spin, “captain, sail west…” maddie urged to Caitlyn who was already making her way to the rear.

“Fuck, do you guys feel that to?” Vis words were slurred before she dropped to the floor, soon after Maddie, and powder followed.

Cait was hanging on by a thread as she heard everything in her body to keep herself from slumping over.

The moon began to blur.

Songs stung her ears.

˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˚₊ Hear my voice beneath the sea

Sleeping now so peacefully

Sleep for all eternity

Black washed over her.

Caitlyn awoken by the sound of jelwery clinging and clashing into each other.

The woman infront of her stood tall, taller than her.

A name in expensive cursive writing was written on the back of the women’s arm.

𝓘𝓿𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮

“I’m sure they’ll awaken soon, your songs shouldn’t be to strong, child.”

The muffled woman’s voice echoed through out Caitlyn’s head.

“Yes, I know Ivelle but, what if I actually did kill them? I feel so horri—“

A loud gasp arouse from Caitlyn caused you stop mid sentence, making your way over to the blue haired girl dressed in, ruffles, strings and nets of some kind.

“Human form, little one.”

Ivelle reminded you before disappearing into the darkness of mysterious waters.

Your legs weren’t always your strongest suit but, it was gonna have to work for now.

“Who are you? Why am I here?” The blue haired girl immediately began to panic as she tugged against the strong ropes that were binding her arms behind her.

You smirked “I’m [..], it’s nice to meet you captain caitlyn.” You hinted at the embroidered ’Captain Caitlyn Kiramman’ on her vest.

“Case your wondering, it’s August 4th 1730” your soft but somehow strong voice told her. “You haven’t time traveled” a giggle emerged from you.

Caitlyn, still confused, looked around her surroundings, noticing her other passengers weren’t there she started to panic “where are my friends at?” She continued to tug against the rope.

“no worries, we’re keeping them somewhere, safe.”

Suddenly something in Caitlyn came up.

The longer she looked at you, the prettier you got.

The enticing blue eyed stare grabbed your attention.

Your wonders finally started to work.

The ropes started to feel less tight and looser, a lot looser.

She tugged at nothing. The ropes were gone now. She stood, her figure was tall, her eyes were filled with despair.

Leaning in, she kissed you.

Perfect.

You got her right where you needed her, vulnerable, desperate.

There was no romantic connection between you and her, you could feel it.

It was the air. Your aura. It caused things happen.

You were alluring. Fascinating even.

You chuckled, kissing her back grabbing the back of her head pulling her in closer.

The floor, the floor felt as if it was melting beneath her, she didn’t care, she couldn’t care, she was trapped.

Once realizing what was happening she struggled, pulled, pushed, nothing worked.

She was trapped.

You whispered something in your language in her ear.

The floor was sinking her in. Litterally.

“You don’t belong here”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

A/N: uhm idk what put right here…… also sorry for spelling mistakes and random typos and spacing, I’m lowkey half asleep rn

@graciedollie @grotesquevi @valeisaslut @look-me @mewl3tte @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @ellieswife4ever @yokedtablet @doodl3wr1t3s @lolitalovess @lluxentzz @kissedbykhloe

#lesbian #wlw #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x reader

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sweetdispatch · 3 days ago

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V, we love you queen! Will always stick by you as always! 💘

Could I request 3 water, 4 air, 5 earth, 6 fire!

Looking forward for all the blurbs 😗

Don't be mad - S. Crosby

v' elements pairing: Sidney Crosby x fem!reader summary: One dinner with Sidney lead you to expressing your true feelings warning: heartbreak note: thank you so much, that's so kind of you!!! hope you'll like it❤️

You loved Sidney but the feelings weren’t mutual. You were way younger than him and he hadn’t seen a love interest in you. But you were raised to never give up. That’s why you tried to show him that you’re worth the chance. You were always there for him but he saw you as a friend and nothing more.

Nevertheless, you were always showing up at his games. When Sidney needed your help, you would change your whole schedule just to be there for him. You thought that he would notice you more but still, he was treating you like a friend. Even when you were the first one to visit him when he was injured or to wish him good luck before every game.

Your friends tried to tell you that you need to move on and find someone who wants you but you weren’t listening. You wanted Sidney to be your boyfriend but you didn’t want to throw yourself at him. You wanted him to realise this by himself. He didn’t realise it and he found another woman.

When Sidney told you that he’s seeing this woman, your smile disappeared from your face. You realised that you’re no one to him. You wanted to be happy for him but you couldn't. You wanted to be this woman. The only thing you wanted was to be loved by Sidney. After a couple of weeks, Sidney invited you to dinner with him and this woman.

She was perfect and you knew why Sidney was in love with her. She was smart, kind and beautiful. You started comparing yourself to her and saw all the flaws that you had. This broke you and you left in the middle. You couldn't stand the sign of Sidney being happy with someone who’s not you.

Sidney felt that something was off with you when you left. That’s why, right after the dinner, he went to see you. When he knocked on the door and you haven’t opened it, he grabbed the spare key you gave him in the past. He walked into your apartment and was welcomed with silence. He went straight to your bedroom but before he reached the door handle, he heard your cries from the bathroom.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” Sidney asked you. You were surprised that he’s here and you tried to collect yourself.

“Yeah” You said but from the tone of your voice, he knew that’s not true.

“I hear you crying which means you’re not alright. What’s wrong?” Sidney asked you again standing on the other side of the door.

“It’s stupid and embarrassing” You told him.

“You know I won’t judge you” Sidney reassured you.

“Okay but promise you won’t be mad” You said with a shaky voice.

“I won’t be” Sidney said with a smile.

“I love you and I know that you don’t love me back. I tried my hardest to show you my feelings but you only see me as a friend and when I saw you today with your girlfriend” You took a deep breath trying to steady yourself. “I get why you love her. She’s everything I’m not and never will be. I’m happy for you, I am but I wish it was me”

Sidney didn’t say anything. He sank in your words and didn’t even know what to tell you. When he heard your cries again, he knew he had to speak now.

“Look, I’m sorry that it’s not a mutual feeling but I really care about you. Do you think we can stay friends?” Sidney said and you felt more tears coming down your face.

“We can” You told him when you knew it’s gonna be impossible. You opened yourself for him and now he was aware of it too. You hoped that you can stay friends but you knew that the jealousy over his girlfriend will kill you.

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby oneshot #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #pittsburg penguins #v' elements

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hn-undercover-9503 · 2 days ago

Text

its sad shanks time its sad shanks time its sad shanks time

(aka its "benn beckman deal with his dumbass pining captain getting drunk and whining about a clown" time)

There is a certain thing that happens each and every time Shanks and Beckman and the rest of the crew land on a new island. No matter what the group decides to do with their afternoons on land, by nightfall they all end up gathering in the local tavern and almost always clearing the establishment of their entire stock of liquor and sake—most of which, of course, ends up going right in the Captain's tankard.

And every time, the local tavern keeps and bar goers are nervous around them, which is understandable. They are pirates, after all, so it's only natural for them to all be on their toes, but usually after a couple of hours the Captain has convinced them that they're only there to drink, and not cause any harm. Occasionally, someone will get angry and start throwing things at them, but as per usual the Captain just laughs and waves them goodbye with sake dripping down his chin.

But on the nights when nothing is thrown and no one gets angry, instead what usually happens is the people in the bar end up learning what is probably far more than they ever would have liked to about Emperor of the Sea, Red-Haired Shanks.

"—so of course I told Captain I'd take care of him!" Shanks is on his eighth refill of the night by now, sitting at a table surrounded by women while Beckmann pretends to drink from his own tankard, directly behind him. The woman have been swarming him all night, and while a couple of them got up and left to find someone else up on realizing the Captain clearly was not interested, quite a few were still hanging off of his every word. Even as every word he said had to do with—

"And he was so upset about it too!" Shanks moans, tossing his hands in the air miserably. His face is flushed, and he's swaying in his chair. He's beyond drunk at this point. Beckman sighs, swirling his drink and trying not to roll his eyes. "He kept apologizing and apologizing for making me miss my chance to see the treasure, and I told him I didn't care about that, that I just wanted to make sure he was okay! And it was perfect, that's what we were gonna do! Once he got better, we were gonna go back out there and be pirates again together!"

One of the woman coos softly, and this time Beckman can't help the irritated twitch to his brow. Yasopp sends him a knowing look from across the table as the woman presses her chest up against the Captain's, clearly vying for his attention. They both know she will get none of it.

"Do you think I did the wrong thing?" The Captain, predictably, ignores the breasts that are practically being thrust in his face. "I just wanted to stay with him. I didn't—" His words are beginning to slur and he hiccups several times in a row. The woman in front of him lets out a huff and draws back, pulling up her dress and looking over the rest of the group instead.

"Should I have tried to follow him? I-I mean, he was really angry and I'd never want to make him uncomfortable, s-so I—"

The woman who'd been pressing her chest against him moments ago stands up, and two more of the woman join her. Captain ignores them, leaning over the table and making suspiciously whiny noises into his tankard.

Beckman sighs, setting down his own tankard and pushing it over to Yasopp instead.

"You finished?" He asks, accepting the drink with no fuss at all.

"Sure," Beckman says, pushing up from his seat. "I think the Captain's done for the night as well. I'll be bringing him back to the ship."

"Sounds good." Yasopp waves him off, already gulping down half of the tank.

There are three woman left at the table when he arrives, although all of them look uncomfortable and stressed as he approaches. He points towards the bar, giving them reassuring smiles. "Don't worry ladies, I'll be taking over from here. You can leave my captain to me, yeah?"

All three of them press their lips together and nod before quickly hurrying off, clearly uncomfortable watching the almighty Emperor Shanks silent-cry into a mug of ale. Beckman is so far beyond practiced at this point, though.

He puts a hand on the back of the Captain's collar and pulls, yanking him up. As he suspected, his eyes are red and puffy and there's a permanent frown on his face.

"You're done, Captain." He says, leaving no room for argument. "Roux, come take this tank. I'll be bringing the Captain back to his cabin now."

"But...wait, what happened? Where'd everyone go?" Shanks furrows his eyebrows together, looking around confused at the empty table, apparently having only just realized he's been abandoned by all the women who'd been trying to get into his cabin tonight.

"You happened," Beckman mutters with a roll of his eyes, pulling him to his feet and slinging his arm over his shoulder. His feet are unsteady, and he's supporting nearly half of his weight as they head for the door. Hongo holds the door for them—they're all probably a bit too practiced at this by now.

Thankfully, the bar they've stumbled into tonight is not far from the village's dock. They're probably used to drunken sailors in this place, but in this case it works out for them as it only takes about twenty minutes of stumbling and tripping over feet to get the Captain back on board the Red Force.

The Captain remains quiet, only occasionally mumbling something about the room spinning under his breath. Beckman all but shoves him down onto his bed in the captain's quarters before leaving to the galley to get a glass of water. He grabs a few painkillers from the medical bay at the same time to leave on the table for when he wakes up in the morning.

When he returns to the captain's quarters, the Captain is curled on his side in bed, and unshockingly, he's holding that damn wanted poster again, the one that's been in the drawer of his end table since the day it came out in the newspaper when the warlords were disbanded. Beckman sighs heavily, setting the water down on the end table along with a little cup of pain pills. "Here," He pushes the glass towards him, but the Captain doesn't so much as blink.

"I still don't get it." He mutters, and Beckman rolls his eyes, sitting down at the edge of the bed.

"Get what, Captain?"

"Why he—he got so mad, Beck, I…" He trails off, finally putting down the poster with a groan. "I don't understand."

"I couldn't tell you any more than I could the last hundred times you've spoken about it, Captain." He picks up the glass and shoves it into his hands. "Now drink this. You'll thank me tomorrow."

He takes it, although Beckman knows from experience he probably isn't actually going to finish it. "I miss him."

"I'm aware, Captain."

"Should I try sending him a letter again? He might just get mad at me again like last time…"

"I don't know, Captain."

"What if I…sent him a gift or something with it? He always loved treasure. We have treasure, right?"

"Sure, Captain."

"But he'd probably just throw it out anyway…or take the treasure and burn a letter." He moans, dropping back into the blankets. Beckman just barely keeps the glass from spilling all over his bed. "I just want to talk to him again!"

"I know, Captain."

The Captain goes quiet now, and at last Beckman senses he's ready to fall asleep. He sighs, getting up and setting the still full glass back on the table. "Do I need to leave a bucket for you, Captain?"

"…no."

"Good." He heads for the door, leaving the Captain to roll around with his usual drunken lamentations. He's nearly out when he hears the soft ruffle of paper, and turns around to see the wanted poster drift from his hands and down to the floor. The cackling, sinister smile of Emperor Buggy the Clown grins up from the spot on the old wood floor of Shanks' cabin.

Beckman sighs again, walking back to pick it up and open the drawer to put it back in its place. The Captain snores, and Beckman turns back for the door, blowing out the lamp and shutting it behind him. It looks like he'll just have to deal with the whining about his headache come morning.

#shuggy #one piece #shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #buggy the clown #captain buggy

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luvs4haechan · 19 hours ago

Note

mutual pining with jisung where everyone sees that youre inlove EXCEPT yourselves🙏🙏

blindly in love

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff!!!!

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: shy!jisung x fem!reader

𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵/𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: college au, use of y/n, no warnings i think ?? hinted alcohol consumption

𝘸𝘤: 4.1k WOW

masterlist

the day started off like usual: coffee in the morning with your friends, a few classes, studying inbetween. you had been assigned a new project in your programming class, which would've been fine had it not been for your professor declaring it be done in pairs. as your luck would have it, all of your friends got paired together and you got...park jisung? the quiet boy that sits at the back of the classroom, never asks questions, and never really engages in conversation. despite all this, you have heard that he gets exceptionally good grades in most of his classes, so you couldn't complain as much as you would like. the two of you briefly exchanged numbers before he hurried off, seeming intimidated by you. leaving the classroom, you breathed a sigh, preparing for what was to come.

later in the evening, you messaged jisung about meeting to work on the assigned project. it shocked you that he replied just seconds after you sent your message. the two of you agreed to meet after your last class, and work on the project in the library. locking your phone, you actually found yourself feeling a little excited to get to know the quiet and shy boy from your class.

the next day rolled around, keeping you a little nervous but more curious to see how your pair project would come about. before you knew it, you were almost sprinting to the library, your last class keeping you behind a little. as you opened the door, you found jisung sitting at one of the far away tables, almost secluded from the rest. you calmed your ragged breathing and walked over to him. "hi, i'm so sorry i'm late. my professor kept us behind and..." you looked at him to see an expressionless face staring back at you, "you don't care. anyway, the project," you got your laptop out and sat opposite jisung at the table he chose. "did you have any ideas? i know the prompt is kind of wide, so we have a few directions we could go in," you realised you'd started rambling, startling the quiet boy in front of you.

"yeah, whatever you want to do is fine," jisung replied without looking up from his open laptop. the pair of you worked in mostly silence, you often stealing glances as he was focused on perfecting the code. you tried to make some conversation, mostly about the project and the class, however he seemed to only want to get the work done and leave as soon as he could. after about an hour and a half both of you decided you'd had enough and packed up your things.

"okay, so maybe we should get together on saturda-" you said as you zipped your backpack shut.

"works for me," jisung interrupted you and quickly walked out the library. you stood in shock, trying to blame his standoffish nature on him just being shy, yet you couldn't help but feel like he simply didn't like you. it bothered you, because you had been nothing but nice to him, and you had to admit - he was really nice on the eyes.

a couple of weeks passed, and your sessions working on the project hadn't changed much. jisung was still quiet, shy, and only spoke when he absolutely had to; you still kept stealing glances when he wasn't looking, and were secretly hoping he'd catch you. you had to admit, over the course of this project, despite his unapproachable nature, you have grown fonder of the tall boy that typed quietly on his laptop. maybe it was his eyes, or the way he would muster a tiny smile when his code worked just the way he intended. despite all this, you couldn't shake the inevitable feeling that he simply didn't like you. not even in the way you wanted him to, you were sure he wouldn't even consider you a mere acquaintance. oh how wrong you were...

jisung was sitting in the college cafeteria with the few friends he managed to accumulate over the last year. his group was small, albeit close. he met chenle at basketball club, mark in his maths class when the older boy couldn't figure out a simple equation, and donghyuck came as a package deal with mark - the two were inseparable.

"there goes your pretty coding girlfriend," donghyuck quipped in a sing song voice. all four of the guys turned around to see you walk in, alongside your best friend renjun.

"don't call her that," jisung muttered, bowing his head down as his ears suddenly turned beet red.

"why not? you see each other all the time. why haven't you asked her out?" chenle said, unfazed by his shyness as he continued eating his lunch.

"because," the youngest of the group heaved a sigh "she doesn't like me like that. i'm not sure if she even likes me as a friend," he paused to look at you and renjun in the line for the lunches "plus, i'm pretty sure that's her boyfriend," this promped surprised looks from all of jisung's friends.

"renjun?" mark questioned, eyebrows almost touching his hairline "he's in my music club, and he's about as straight as a circle," the oldest at the table said.

"dude, you have a clear shot, just take it. you've had a crush on y/n for long enough," donghyuck said, glancing between you and his quiet friend. jisung simply shook his head, not wanting to carry the conversation on.

across the cafeteria, you and renjun stood in line for your lunches. "no junnie, i'm like 100% sure he wants nothing to do with me. in the last three weeks, he's barely said two words to me," you said, moving up the line.

"he's just shy, y/n. i'm sure he doesn't mean anything bad by it, not everyone is as outspoken as you are," your best friend rolled his eyes grabbing a lunch tray, as the line moved up again.

"i know that, but this is borderline rude. i know not everyone has to like me, but he's just so..." you trailed off, as you caught view of him sitting at a table surrounded by three of - what you persumed were - his friends.

"hot? i know, if he swung the other way i'd go for him myself," renjun said, urging you to grab your lunch as you were holding the line up.

"how do you know he doesn't," you chuckled.

"because the whole time we've stood here, he's looked at you at least 8 times," the blonde said, sitting down at one of the empty tables. his words caused you to furrow your eyebrows.

"what are you even talking about? why would he be looking at me, if he doesn't even want to talk to me?" you said, looking down and moving the food about on your plate.

renjun shrugged at your words, "because he's nervous y/n, when you like someone you get nervous around them," your friend kept looking at you, hoping you'd admit that he was right.

you sighed, finally looking up at the blonde boy in front of you. "i just don't know what to do to get him to talk to me," you shook your head slightly, and renjun could practically see the wheels turning in your head.

"start off small, don't bombard him with questions and don't start yapping uncontrollably like i know you do," it was your turn to roll your eyes, "ask him about his interests, but don't overwhelm him. i'm sure when he's ready, he'll open up," renjun advised you, finishing his lunch. you nodded, taking a last glance at the far off table that sat four boys - one of which, you were almost sure you were catching feelings for.

the next time you and jisung met to work on the project, you decided to at least get him to open up slightly. having been persuaded by his own friends, jisung decided to also try his best and finally talk to you. although they encouraged him to ask you out, he was certain you would never feel that way about him. but a little conversation couldn't hurt anyone...right?

"hi," you said, setting your things down at the usual table the two of you work at. as always, jisung didn't reply, just gave you a tight lipped smile. the boy mentally scolded himself for not even being able to muster a small greeting - he blamed his nerves, you made him incredibly nervous. you sighed as you sat down, however you didn't let his silence deter you. "have you finished the code we talked about last time?" you asked, almost offhandedly, not really bothered if he had or hadn't knowing you were ahead of schedule anyway.

"uhh," jisung managed to start, "i had basketball practice," he looked at you, but moved his eyes back to his laptop just as quickly "sorry," jisung breathed. you blinked at the boy in front of you, not having expected a response from him.

"it's no problem, let's do it today," you said, finally coming to and moving your eyes to your own laptop. the whole moment reeked of awkwardness, you felt your cheeks turn red in slight embarrassment, not having expected the situation. jisung took one last glance your way, quietly admiring the way your hair fell slightly into your eyes and how small dimples seemed to appear when you concentrated, and began working on the project.

a short while passed without much necessary conversation, quick questions here and there but never straying from the topic of your project. you decided to change that. "so you play basketball?" you asked, looking up at him from your computer. it actually made sense, he was pretty tall, however you didn't expect it from a shy guy like jisung.

taken aback, jisung made fleeting eye contact with you for a few seconds before quickly looking away. "yeah," he cleared his throat "i joined the team last semester," jisung felt as if the room was getting smaller and he was shrinking into his seat. any conversation was nerve-wracking for him, but with a girl this pretty and one that he seemed to like a little more than a typical friend, sent him into a frenzy.

"that's so cool," you replied, a small smile on your face. "i'm on the volleyball team," you quickly added, hoping to carry on the conversation. jisung looked up at you again, seeing your smile he relaxed slightly. however, he wasn't sure how to reply to your words, just giving you a tight lipped smile again. "i'll have to come see one of your games," you added, hoping to prompt a response from the boy sitting across from you.

"oh," he looked nervous once again "i'm not that good, honestly," jisung spoke quietly, but loud enough for you to hear the slight tremble in his voice.

you shook your head at his words, "i'm sure that's not true," you gave him an encouraging smile, to which he returned a more natural looking one (compared to his earlier attempts...).

the rest of your time was spent in mostly silence, however you felt a lot better about a hopeful friendship blooming between the two of you. staying true to your word, the following week you were sat amongst most of your college classmates in the packed sports hall, waiting for the game to start.

"i can't believe you dragged me to this," renjun rolled his eyes as he took the empty seat next to you.

"come on, it won't be that bad. plus i finally got jisung to talk about himself a little. this is me showing support for my..." you paused "my friend," you weren't sure jisung was your friend, although you certainly were hopeful.

"yes, but why am i here?" your best friend asked almost sarcastically, in a begrudging tone.

"to support me supporting my friend," you gave him a smile, to which he raised an eyebrow. "okay, i just didn't want to come alone," you sighed, earning a triumphant grin from renjun.

on the court, jisung was surrounded by his friends as they chatted before the game began. "guess who i saw sitting in the fourth row," donghyuck said, scanning his eyes over the now full bleachers. all three of the boys turned to see where he was looking, although they already knew the answer. jisung finally spotted you, sitting with renjun engrossed in conversation. you caught his eye, and just as he was about to look away you sent him a smile and waved. the boy blushed and returned your wave, his friends sporting wide grins.

"oh she's totally into you," mark said, eyeing the brief interaction. the blushing boy looked down and shook his head.

"i didn't think she would actually come," he muttered quietly, galncing your way again.

"i've never had a girl come to one of my games," chenle said, making jisung's ears turn an even deeper shade of red.

"we're just..." the youngest paused, thinking for a second "friends, although she probably doesn't even consider me that," this caused all three of his friends to profusely roll their eyes.

"you are hopeless, jisung," donghyuck said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

the game seemed to finish as quickly as it started and before you knew it, your college team were winning 94 to 62. jisung had scored at least 20 points, and you cheered for each one. out of the corner of his eye, each time he took a shot he saw you wait with baited breath, hoping the ball would make it through the net. although he didn't realise it, your presence made him want to do better - maybe to impress you even.

you and renjun began to gather your things and stand up, when suddenly a brunette boy approached you. "hey i'm donghyuck," he said, standing in front of the two of you with a smile. seeing your confused expressions he added, "jisung's friend."

"oh, nice to meet you," you said, sending him a polite smile. renjun narrowed his eyes sceptically, wondering where this conversation was going.

"jisung and some of our friends were planning on going out to celebrate the win," donghyuck mentioned, looking between the two of you. "he was wondering if you wanted to join?"

"really?" you questioned, your eyebrows raised and expression full of shock. "i'd love to, actually. can renjun come too?" you replied, looking hopefully at your best friend who looked rather unamused.

"yeah, of course," donghyuck smiled "the bar just off campus at 8, see you there," the charming brunette smiled and bid the two of you goodbye. you turned to renjun who looked less than happy to be dragged along to this outing.

"oh come on junnie, it will be fun," you pleaded with him "this means jisung might actually think of me as a friend," you couldn't help the wide grin that began spreading on your face.

renjun couldn't help but return your smile, "alright, we'll go," he said, keeping in mind the way he saw jisung glance your way whenever he could during the game. his words caused you to smile even wider, and loop your arm through his as you walked out of the sports hall.

8 o'clock rolled around sooner than you expected. "just five more minutes, jun," you shouted from your bathroom to renjun, who was sat on your bed for the last 15 minutes.

"you said that 10 minutes ago, y/n," he shouted back, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. he could hear a few things clatter to the floor as you finally opened the door. "jisung might actually die when he sees you," your best friend commented as you walked out the bathroom. you decided to blow out your hair and do a touch more make up than you usually do.

"it's not too much?" you asked rhetorically, looking yourself over in the mirror. "also why would jisung die?" you asked, to which renjun simply shook his head in defeat.

"let's go, before fashionably late becomes plain rude," he said as he urged you towards the door of your apartment.

the bar was quite busy, you blamed it on the victory of the basketball team and simply the fact that it was a friday night. walking in, you scanned the place, hoping to see a familiar face.

at a table near the back, four boys sat celebrating the win of jisung and chelne's basketball team. donghyuck kept looking around the bar, hoping to spot you before the rest of the group. he hadn't told anyone that he invited you in jisung's name, not even mark. donghyuck just hoped that his plan wouldn't backfire.

you finally caught sight of jisung's tall figure. smiling, you grabbed renjun's arm and began approaching their table. jisung saw you first, to donghyuck's dismay, his eyes widened and ears turned suddenly red. the rest of his friends saw his reaction and quickly turned to the cause. donghyuck winced when he saw you, already seeing his brilliant plan fall through.

"hey guys," you said, having to shout over all the chatter at the bar. "we've not met, i'm y/n," you introduced yourself to the two boys you had yet to meet, and they told you their names in exchange. you then moved your eyes to jisung, giving him a softer more comfortable smile, "hi,".

"hi," he replied, unable to move his eyes from you. you held eye contact for a little too long, however someone clearing their throat broke you out of the trance.

"oh, i'm so sorry," you mentally slapped yourself on the wrist, "this is renjun, my best friend," you quickly introduced the blonde standing slightly behind you. after all the introductions were had, mark offered to get everyone drinks and you sat down between donghyuck and jisung, renjun sitting opposite you after giving you a subtle wink. in a group setting, around people he was mostly comfortable with, jisung seemed to be more outgoing - joining into the conversation and even bringing up topics on his own. you managed to see a different side to him, one that you grew to like more and more.

the six of you talked, laughed, and told stories until it was almost 1am and the bar was soon to close. all through the night, all four boys gave each other knowing looks and sent each other smiles, while you and jisung were engrossed in conversation. finally mark, renjun, and donghyuck decided to share a cab home since they all live close to each other. while saying your goodbyes, renjun admitted to having a good time and you gave him a winning smile. chenle headed off on his own, leaving you and jisung standing in front of the bar.

"i live quite close, so i'm going to walk," you said, shuffling on your feet and pointing in the general direction of your apartment. jisung's heartbeat picked up at the realisation of the imminent goodbye.

"i'll walk you," he said quietly, although you heard him perfectly despite the rowdy crowd inside. you gave the taller boy a small, appreciative smile and nodded. the two of you headed towards your apartment, and although summer was just around the corner you couldn't help the shiver that ran up your spine, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. jisung started light conversation, talking about his basketball game.

"i'm glad you came," he said, glancing at you in passing, trying not to linger too long. the pace you set was comfortable, almost a stroll towards your home.

"i'm glad too," you smiled at him "you played really well, you know. 20 points in one game isn't easy," you looked up at him to see a blush spread across his cheeks, causing your smile to widen.

"thank you," jisung muttered, not used to such compliments. "i'll have to come to one of your volleyball games," he said, offering you a small smile in return.

"you're always invited," you didn't think it was possible to smile wider than in that moment. before you knew it, the pair of you were stood in front of your apartment building. coming to a stop, you turned to face jisung, having to look up since he was quite taller than you.

"thank you for walking me home," you said, "and for inviting me tonight, i had a really great time," you saw a confused look pass over his features, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"no problem, i'm glad you decided to come. i know my friends can be a bit much," he scratched the back of his neck, looking down.

you chuckled at his words, "they're great, i'm just glad they got along with renjun. he can be quite..."

"intimidating?" jisung finished your sentence, causing a laugh to bubble from you.

"yes, intimidating," you confirmed, smiling at the boy who returned your grin. "will you be okay getting home? i don't want to put you out," you said.

"don't worry, i'll be okay," jisung reassured you, not wanting you to worry about him. you nodded at his words, smiling ernestly.

"well," you started "i better head up, it's getting late. but i'll see you to work on the project?" you asked, hoping to see him sooner rather than later.

"yeah, i'll text you," he said, nodding along with his words.

"great, i'll be waiting," you said, looking into his eyes with a smile. neither of you were sure how to say goodbye, and the tension was palpable. finally, you leaned up, bracing yourself on his arm and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "i'll see you soon," you said, with a smile and headed for the door to your apartment building. jisung stood almost frozen to the ground, his brain not quite registering what had happened. only when he heard the door shut, he winced and started cursing himself for not even saying goodbye. the whole way home his heartbeat didn't slow down once, the moment replaying in his head on a loop. could this mean something more?

the following week you arranged to meet with jisung for the last time, having almost finished the project. as always, he was sat at the usual table in the back of the library when you walked through the doors. having spotted him, a wide smile immediately spread on your face. "hi," you simply greeted the boy, approaching the table.

"hi y/n," jisung replied, giving you a warm smile of his own. as you unzipped your bag and sat down you thought back to the first time you sat in this exact same seat with the exact same boy in front of you. actually, the boy had changed - quite significantly at that. at first he would barely look at you, now you considered him a great friend, not counting the feelings you had secretly developed for him. his barely there awkward smile transformed into a wide grin, and his shyness seemed to fade away - not entirely, he was still incredibly nervous just by looking at you.

this time, while working on the last part of your assignment, you engaged in comfortable conversation, often looking away from your computers entirely just to carry on talking. you spent a few hours in the library, your work pace hindered by the smiles and laughs you had. finally, the two of you managed to write the final parts and send off the project, more than satisfied with your results. you and jisung packed your things and walked out of the library together. you stopped in front of the doors, having to go separate ways. you took your time to look over his features, hoping to see more of them but also knowing you may not.

"i'm really happy we got paired together, jisung," you admitted honestly, your heartbeat increasing at the imminent goodbye. giving him an ernest smile, you were ready to go when he suddenly called your name.

"y/n wait," jisung said urgently "would you," he took a deep breath, scratching the back of his neck. "would you like to maybe go out some time?" the shy boy finally managed to get out, but seeing your shocked expression he panicked. "not that you have to. you can totally say no and i'll-"

"jisung, i'd love to," you cut off this rambling, smiling wider than you thought was possible. it was his turn to have a shocked expression but he composed himself as quickly as he could.

jisung nodded, a wide grin spreading on his own face. "great, i'll call you," he said.

"i'll be waiting."

𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘴!

what the helly... how can i not write for MONTHSSS then suddenly produce 4k words in three days 😭 anon you absolutely COOKED with this i had a great time writing it. i also didn't want to do friends to lovers again bc i feel like all my fics are like that and jisung is so awkward so i thought this was fitting lmk what you think plspls 🙏🏻🙏🏻 holy yap just wanted to say THIS IS THE BIG COMEBACK I SPOKE OF luvs4haechan out 🤗🤗

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