#(there’s a scene in the story that i’ll have to write later where he will actually be cancelled LMFAOOAOA)

[tojiscrack]

the way malakai would enjoy the threats people are giving him because the weirdo loves being “consumed by the darkness”. like this boy would have a REASON to start spazzing, talking about how he has enemies left, right and centre 😭😭

“SO WHY DO GOOOOOOOD GIRLS LIKE BAAAAAAAD GUYS, OI HAD THIS QUESTION FOR A REAAALLY LOONG TOIIIME 😡😝🤙🏻🫨🤘🏻🖤⛓️⛓️‍💥🐺”

oh absolutely 😀

like this would be his villain origin story (he was never an evil guy, he just needed a reason 😭)

everyone attacking him just gave him a reason to tweak out even more. and i’m mainly feeling bad for the teachers who’d have to deal with it in their classes (he’s a little more tame in gojo’s classes cuz he’s allowed to sit under the table, same with shoko’s classes cuz her blinds are always down).

[steddiebrainrotramble]

Saw this idea floating around and wanted to write a little bit about it

Corroded coffin has gotten big enough for larger venues now. Steve was so proud of them. He and Eddie had agreed on day one he’d stay with them. He helped manage the band behind the scenes. Steve loved it. He loved the guys and getting to spend their days off exploring different parts of the cities they toured.

It was hard sometimes though, at places like this especially. Sometimes he got migraines and had to come later. Or wanted to step out for a smoke. Large venues like this had large back of the house and green rooms but some times he just needed to get out.

That wasn’t the problem. Getting back in was. Even with his back stage access pass, a lot of the time the venue security refused to believe that the man before them was the lead singers husband.

How could he be? The man in the yellow polo and jeans with perfectly coifed hair at a metal concert didn’t look like he belonged in the venue let alone with the band. And that was his problem right at this moment.

Steve looked up at the large looking men. Two of them, looking unimpressed with him. “Look, I don’t know where you stole that pass from but everyone knows Munsons husband’s name. Get out of here before we throw you out.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. He was trying not to get frustrated. He appreciated them, honestly. He wanted to keep Eddie safe. But fuck he did not want to do this right now. “I appreciate you doing your job. But I’ve got my badge. Call back to Ed’s security. Describe me to them. Hell tell them the shirt I’m wearing, Cj helped pick it out, says it’s a good yellow. Mat says it’s too horrendous but it somehow suits me. Couldn’t tell if that’s a compliment honestly.” Steve shrugged. The guards look unamused.

Finally the one on the left sighs. “Fine I’ll walkie back. If they say they have no clue who you are we’re kicking you completely out and trespassing you. Sure you want to gamble that?” The guy smirked and Steve shrugged. “Go for it.”

Guy walkied for the bands security. “Got a preppy looking guy here. Think he stole a backstage pass.” Steve can hear Cj’s voice crackle over the walkie. “He wearing an amazingly blinding yellow polo?” “Yes…” “That’s Munson’s hubby, let him through.”

Steve just stared at them as he pushed pass, careful to remind himself he had another story to tell Robin next time he called.

[physalian]

Avoiding Plot Holes by Seeding Doubt

Having an “expert” character conveniently fuck up right when the plot needs it to happen, when they otherwise would never, always loudly looks like the hand of the author sabotaging things. Which is exactly what’s happening.

However, if you set up that scene in a way where that fuckup is possible and warranted, you can turn “this is so contrived” to “omg I knew that was going to happen”.

Some suggestions!

Firstly, if we’re dealing with humans, humans are not machines. Variability in skill even at the expert level happens. Go watch the Olympics or any professional sporting event and people have terrible days all the time.

In fiction, a conveniently terrible day because that’s just how this works doesn’t fly. Diablos ex machinas tend to go over easier than deus ex machinas, but a character failing at a critical challenge in the narrative for no reason screws with a lot of the tension and expectations. “For no reason” takes no effort by the author to set up and pay off, and it reads as cheap.

Behavioral variables

I am a novice archer. I write expert archers. I do not write supernaturally accurate archers. From the very beginning of my story, my expert, with four centuries of experience, isn’t nailing perfect kill shots with every hit. A) he doesn’t need to and B) leaving his enemy to die slowly and painfully is a low he will absolutely stoop to if he thinks it’s warranted.

He’s as good as he has to be and if he gets the job done, he doesn’t care if it’s a little messy. Him being messy and overconfident is what gets him in the end, too. If he’s trying, he’ll do better, but most of the time “eh, I got close enough, they’ll die eventually” is his mindset.

“Expert” in fiction being “this is a character who will reliably pass the challenges set up for them by the narrative”.

So if you have an “expert,” allowing them to get a little bit lazy and overconfident, or simply not think of themselves as needing to be perfect in a given situation, you allow yourself a lot of wiggle room for them to majorly fuck up.

Doesn’t work very well if I throw my archer into an archery tournament, but I haven’t done that, and I’ll get to that later.

Environmental variables

Using the archery example once again: Archery is finnicky and precision is key. So if you’ve got your archer, or any marksman, in a windy environment, they have to work that much harder to factor in the wind when setting up their shot.

If it’s rainy, or the sun’s in their face, or it’s dark, or it’s loud and they can’t focus, these things aren’t exact data points the audience is going to do the math on. Or, if they and their enemy are moving, which, in combat, is highly likely.

Physiological variables

Maybe your character didn’t get enough sleep, or they’re stressed about this moment, they’re cracking under the pressure, they’re doubting themselves, the enemy got into their head, or they’re distracted worrying about something else. Or they got drunk the night before, they ate too much or too little. They’re sick, their hands are sweaty, they’ve got a sinus headache. They’ve got cramps, or hot flashes, or earlier they pulled a muscle and it still tweaks.

These are all, once again, introducing doubt into the narrative so that, when they fuck up as the plot demands, the audience should consider “well they weren’t at their best, I believe it”.

—

The sloppy way to do this is to go, in the moment:

“But because it was windy, X missed his shot”.

Is this the first time the reader is learning that it’s windy? Pretty convenient to introduce it right as it becomes important.

Rather, establish your variable beforehand in a disconnected moment. Try to ground it to a different element, otherwise it might look like it’s being mentioned for no other reason than “this is important”. Or, if it’s environmental, bury it with the other sensory descriptors.

When establishing the scene and setting, casually mention how the wind is interacting with the characters—making their hair a mess, throwing pollen everywhere, making skirts billow, etc.

Have another character complain about this variable bothering them

Have the character instantly regret the decision they made the night before for unrelated reasons. Like, if they got drunk, now they’ve still got a headache.

Depends on the story and the audience, of course, but I personally think having the narrator explicitly call out the variable fuckery going on reads a bit hammy. I like letting the audience figure out what went wrong with the clues I give.

If the scene demands, I'll also let my characters get annoyed and upset about their shots going wrong and blaming the environment. So long as it's not "hand of the author here to tell you what went wrong" you've got options.

I wouldn’t pull this trick too many times, otherwise your “expert” ends up consistently not an expert and then their sudden success looks suspect and contrived.

If you are writing some sort of tournament where this character is deliberately setting themselves up for success and is considering all these variables… a great example I like is Todoroki vs Bakugo in My Hero Academia season 2.

Dude is an uncertain mess throughout the rest of his tournament once his “fuck you dad I’m gonna win by half-assing it” suddenly isn’t enough to beat Midoriya. He’s forced to face some Tragic Backstory and it throws him off his game—establishes doubt.

He has a string of successes once he starts taking baby steps with the other half of his powers, and in the finale, he’s up against someone where he really does have to give it his all if he wants to win. His brute force powers are up against someone who has honed his very specific and powerful abilities for a decade.

And he can’t do it.

The final fight stops being a matter of power metrics and who would win if they both were competing at their best with all the tricks in their playbook available, which is what most of the tournament had been up to this point.

Basically—it stops being a numbers game, and starts being an emotional one. If you have a character you need to fail at something, but who wouldn’t otherwise, consider shifting the battle from external to internal, so the task failure is just the catalyst for the real meat of the story: what this loss means to this person in the long run.

**Side note there are of course a ton of anime tournament fights probably better than this one, Rock Lee’s whole arc against Gaara is one of them, I just don’t remember it well enough to comment on it.

Not every reader is going to be savvy enough to go “well that’s going to be important later”. Use betas and editors to help gauge how vague or obvious your foreshadowing is.

But even if you have readers sussing out your foreshadowing: Part of the fun is figuring out how the journey will end, even if we know when and where. Otherwise tragedies and prequels wouldn’t be made.

The dramatic irony of knowing variable fuckery is at play when the character is unaware can be so fun as the audience. Horror films are kind of built on it.

[mggslover]

How the Unsub Stole Christmas ❆

A Holiday to Remember: part 2

In which the BAU's holiday getaway takes a dark turn when a family is found murdered on Christmas, forcing the team to investigate while reader struggles with painful memories of her past and her growing, unspoken feelings for Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: crime, angst, smut (18+), fluff, found family Content warnings: graphic cm case descriptions!!, mentions of shitty childhood, reader getting in some unsub trouble, oral (f receiving), p in v sex. Word count: 9k 🫣 i swear it reads really fast A/n: read part 1 first! writing this story genuinely brought me so much joy, and i hope you will experience the same while reading this. this will be my last fic for the year 2024, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support, i can't wait to see what the new year will bring for this blog. don't forget to interact with this post if you've enjoyed! 🎄🤍 dividers by @issysh3ll

It shouldn’t have surprised you that you’d be called out for another case. Still, the disappointment lingered thick in the air.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Garcia murmured softly, her tone sad. JJ wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in for a side hug. “Don’t worry,” she reassured gently. “The trip isn’t over yet.”

Penelope seemed satisfied enough with that answer, but then spoke up again. “I don’t want to stay here on my own. It’s spooky knowing someone got murdered just miles away.”

“You can come with us to the station. Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss and Y/L/N, you’ll head to the crime scene. A deputy will be waiting for you there.” Hotch instructed. 

You exhaled softly and gave a brief nod. Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes filled with that quiet empathy you’d come to recognize over the years.

“Good luck,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

“Thanks,” you replied, your words equally soft. “You too.”

Half an hour later, you arrived at the crime scene. The neighborhood was so small it hardly felt like one—just a handful of houses scattered across large, snow-dusted plots of land. It looked peaceful, almost idyllic, as if nothing could ever disturb the calm. The street was adorned with Christmas lights and festive decorations. The only thing slightly out of place was a crack in the bench beside one of the houses. Otherwise, the neighborhood looked like it had stepped right out of a holiday card.

As you stepped out of the car, you noticed the few neighbors who hadn’t yet been driven inside by the cold. They stood in clusters in front of their homes, bundled up in scarves and coats, watching the scene unfold with cautious curiosity.

You looked over at Prentiss. “We should start doing some interviews—maybe send a few of them over to the station.”

She nodded, her expression focused. “Got it.” Without another word, she made her way toward them.

You followed Rossi and Derek toward the red wooden house, where the Deputy awaited by the front door. He looked young—probably around your age. 

Rossi introduced you to Deputy Wilson. Wilson gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry it’s just me. Almost the whole department is unavailable because of the holidays.”

“Convenient timing for a murder,” you mused.

“The scene’s been left as it was when we found it,” Wilson continued. “The back door’s been forced open, and you can see boot prints in the snow leading to the backyard.”

Morgan immediately stepped forward. “I’ll get a shot of those prints for Garcia,” he said, already heading toward the backyard.

Wilson looked at you and Rossi. “You want to take a look inside?”

You paused before heading in, shaking the snow from your boots and making sure not to use the doormat—the one engraved with the names of the family members. It felt wrong, almost disrespectful, to dirty the only thing that might be left of them. 

You took in a sharp breath as you entered the house. Your gaze was first taken by the large Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room, decorated in red and gold. But then you noticed the bloody mess underneath it. Four bodies—two adults and two children—lay scattered on the floor, broken Christmas ornaments surrounding them, as though the killer had dropped them carelessly after his violent act. The mother and father were draped over each other, their throats slit cleanly. The teenage daughter, too, had her throat cut, but her body was twisted in a way that didn’t seem accidental. The small boy—no older than ten—was slumped between them, his face frozen in an expression of terror, a look that would haunt you for days.

The scene before you was a sickening parody of a perfect Christmas. Each of the bodies wore a smile, painted over their lips in blood. It was a mockery of joy, an image of happiness forced onto the dead.

You felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat and turned away, needing a moment to breathe. It was then that you noticed the walls, once filled with family photos, now smeared with blood. Shattered frames lay scattered on the floor, as if the killer had intentionally destroyed everything that was dear to them. 

Rossi spoke first. “The unsub who stole Christmas,” he mused, his tone almost playful despite the grim reality.

You gave a sharp exhale, a brief scoff escaping your lips. “Yeah, you could say that.”

You put on your gloves and picked up a shattered picture frame from the floor. You handed it to Rossi without a word. He took it, studying it for a moment before speaking again. “One thing’s for sure—this wasn’t just a murder. This is deeply personal.”

You nodded, scanning the room. The starkness of the crime scene was still sinking in, but your mind was already running through the facts. “The execution was meticulous,” you murmured, your gaze flickering over the room, “but the aftermath... messy. The unsub rushed out of here—didn’t even bother closing the back door behind him, and those footprints? Almost like he didn’t care at all about leaving evidence. We might even get lucky and find DNA on the bodies.”

Rossi considered it. “It could be that he was in a hurry. In a small neighborhood like this, people will notice anything out of the ordinary. He probably knew he had to move fast.”

You hummed in return. “It still doesn’t add up. You can’t plan a murder with this much detail and then completely overlook how to cover your tracks afterward.”

You took another slow turn around the room, examining the details. Every piece seemed to add to the strange puzzle, but none of it fit together. As you passed the fireplace, something caught your eye: a piece of paper tucked into one of the stockings. You reached for it carefully, your fingers brushing the corner stained with blood.

You unfolded it with precision, revealing the scrawled words in black ink. The sentence was short and written in Latin, a language you hadn’t encountered in years. You stared at it, furrowing your brow as you tried to make sense of it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know Latin, would you?” You asked Rossi, half-joking, though the seriousness in your voice remained.

Rossi looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and dry humor. “Does it look like I know Latin?”

You smiled, already pulling your phone out of your pocket and speed dialing Spencer. As the phone rang, you turned your attention back to the paper, the blood spatter still making your stomach turn.

“Hey,” you breathed out as he picked up the phone after the second ring.

“Hey,” Spencer replied. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft with concern, your single syllable being enough for him to decipher how you feel.

You glanced over your shoulder at the murdered family, swallowing hard before turning away. “I will be,” you responded. Once that fucker is behind bars.

You straightened, pushing the thoughts away, and focused on the task at hand. “I’ve just found a piece of paper at the crime scene. It’s a text written in Latin. I figured it’d be quicker to ask you than wait for Garcia to look it up.”

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment. “Good call. What does it say?”

You glanced at the paper again, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Spencer spoke, his voice calm but precise. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse. ‘Now they know you’re not perfect.’” His perfect Latin pronunciation made you wince at how poorly you’d read it.

“What’s that supposed to mean? A taunt?”

Spencer’s voice was thoughtful. “Sounds like he’s trying to prove something. It’s definitely personal.”

You exchanged a look with Rossi, who was standing nearby, holding the broken picture frame. “Yeah, that’s what we’ve been thinking. Whoever this unsub is, he knows the Reynolds family intimately.”

“Garcia’s already digging into the family’s background,” Spencer replied without missing a beat, already a step ahead.

“Good,” you muttered, relief washing over you for a moment. “How are things going over there?”

“JJ’s been trying to reach family, but they don’t live nearby,” Spencer answered. “A snowstorm hit. I’ve been tracking the meteorological data, and the chances of them making it are close to zero.” 

You nodded, a dull ache settling in your chest. “Well, I’m going to keep looking around here. The bodies will be picked up soon to go to the lab, and then I’ll be heading over to the station.”

“Alright,” Spencer replied, his tone warmer now. “I’ll see you there. Be careful.”

“Always am,” you said, offering a small smile even though he couldn’t see it.

The words on the note kept drifting through your mind. Maybe it was the sentiment that came with Christmas—or maybe it was the fact that, up until now, you were having a perfect holiday, something you never thought you’d get to experience—that made the scene remind you of your childhood. How everything looked so joyous from the outside, especially during the holidays. But if you looked closely, you’d see the cracks. The ornaments on the tree, hastily glued together, their edges jagged and uneven. The hole in the wall, cleverly concealed behind your stocking. 

You were probably overthinking it. After all, it wasn’t the family that was broken like yours was—it was the unsub who had shattered their picture-perfect life.

Rossi’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You okay, kid?”

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the past and into the present. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

You and Rossi walked into the secluded room the Sheriff had arranged for the team, exchanging your findings with Morgan and Prentiss along the way. You’d made a quick stop at a Chinese takeaway to grab food for everyone, knowing the team needed fuel for the long hours ahead.

The rest of the team was already seated around the table, and Reid was in the middle of showing Hotch something on the map of the neighborhood.

“Oh, you guys are the best!” Penelope sighed, her voice full of appreciation as she caught sight of the plastic bags you were carrying.

“We couldn’t leave you to go hungry,” Emily responded with a grin.

You took a seat closest to where Spencer was standing, and he naturally slid into the chair beside you. You reached into the bag and pulled out the only plastic fork, knowing he’d struggle with chopsticks. He flashed you a grateful, closed-lip smile as he took it from you.

Once everyone had filled their plates, the conversation turned back to the case.

“Garcia dug up some useful info,” JJ began. “Stephen Reynolds owned a construction company that’s on the verge of going bankrupt. It’s possible the unsub was an employee who got fired—or was cut loose because the company couldn’t afford him anymore.”

“It seems like the whole family was targeted,” you added, leaning forward. “The note was left in one of the children’s stockings. It doesn’t feel like the murder was just directed at Stephen.”

“That’s why we need to find out more about the Reynolds family outside of their neighborhood,” Hotch said. “The employees at the construction company could have insight. It’s clear the neighbors aren’t going to give us much.”

Rossi’s eyes narrowed, a skeptical look on his face. “Did they really not give you anything? The neighbors, I mean.”

Prentiss shook her head. “Nothing useful. They kept insisting that the Reynolds’s were a perfect family. They even seemed offended when I pressed for more.”

“That doesn’t sit right. The note specifically mentioned how the Reynolds’s are not perfect.” Rossi replied. 

“I gotta give it to them, though,” Garcia chimed in. “The Reynolds’s are model citizens. The parents were both heavily involved in charity, and the kids have won multiple prizes in spelling bees and other competitions.”

“Has anything bad ever happened in that neighborhood?” Morgan asked, clearly skeptical about the idea of perfection.

Penelope clicked away on her laptop. “Well, there was a fire in one of the houses about ten years ago, because of damaged Christmas lights.” She made a sad face as she continued searching. “Oh, and a cat got stuck in a tree once… didn’t make it.”

“What happened to the family in the house?” Spencer asked.

Penelope’s fingers paused over the keys. “Uh, let me see… The Eriksens died from smoke inhalation. Oh… this is sad. They left a child, Christopher Eriksen. He was put into foster care when he was just eight.”

“Did the Reynolds’s live there when that happened?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, they did. Actually, they organized a fundraiser to build a bench with the parents’ names engraved on it, in their memory.”

You felt your pulse quicken at the mention of the bench. Something about it seemed strangely familiar, but you couldn’t trust your mind right now—not with everything still scattered from the case, and the ghosts of your past tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

You could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, but you decided to ignore it, keeping your focus on Hotch as he spoke up. 

“It’s best if we head back to the cabin to rest up,” he said. “Tomorrow���s going to be a long day, and the station’s closing tonight so everyone can spend time with their families.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, the relief of getting some rest evident on their faces. But as the team began gathering their things, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. You hated the idea of putting the case on hold, even if it was just for the night. The face of that little boy kept haunting your thoughts, his wide eyes silently pleading for answers, for peace. You couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Spencer’s hand snakes up on your shoulder, his warm hold holding you in place. His lips barely moved as he mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, shaking your head.

The entire car ride had been silent. Spencer’s gaze would occasionally flicker over to you in the backseat, but you kept your eyes fixated on the road, watching the scenery blur past.

The silence stretched on as you said your goodnights to the rest of the team and walked toward your shared room with Spencer. As you both got ready for bed, there was an unspoken tension hanging in the air. Now, lying in the king-sized bed, you both stared up at the ceiling, the quiet stillness between you thick with unspoken words.

“When are we finally going to talk about what’s wrong?” Spencer’s voice broke the silence, careful but insistent.

You stayed quiet for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Nothing’s wrong,” you replied, your words coming out a little too quickly.

“There’s obviously something wrong,” he pressed gently. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” you answered honestly. Usually, Spencer never had to push. There was something about him—something warm and patient—that made it easy to open up, to share your thoughts without fear of judgment. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t just the case. It felt personal, something you couldn’t fully explain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said, thinking aloud. “It’s just… something’s off. And I don’t know if it’s just me.”

“What do you feel?”

You hesitated. “It sounds stupid,” you muttered, brushing it off.

“Nothing you could say would sound stupid to me.” His words were soft and sincere, making your chest tighten with warmth. You turned your head to face him, noticing the proximity.

“You thought it was stupid that I shower at 115 degrees,” you said with a playful smile.

Spencer let out a soft chuckle, the tension easing just a little. “I don’t think it’s stupid that you like it,” he said, his voice gentle. “I just think it’s stupid that you’d risk hurting yourself over it.”

His eyes warmly looked at you. One hand rested underneath his pillow as he lay on his side. You turned toward him, mirroring his position.

"I’m really struggling with this case," you softly admitted, trying to keep eye contact, though your gaze flickered down, betraying the weight of your words.

“Was it hard seeing the crime scene?”

"Yeah," you choked out, your throat tight. You blinked quickly to try to stop the tears that threatened to spill. “It was... it was horrible.”

His hand reached out to gently rub your bare arm under the blanket. "It’s completely normal to feel affected by what you saw," he began, his voice steady but laced with the kind of empathy that only someone like him could offer. "Witnessing something as violent and horrific as the bodies of two children—it’s traumatic. It’s a lot for the brain to process, especially when it involves young victims. According to studies in neuropsychology, traumatic experiences, particularly those involving children, can cause the brain to release a surge of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. It’s not strange that it leads to emotional responses, like anxiety and flashbacks.”

“I’ve been experiencing flashbacks,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. You met his gaze, looking for reassurance, and he gave you the space to speak, waiting patiently. “It actually started earlier today, when we arrived at the cabin. I’ve never experienced a Christmas like this, you know, the kind that feels warm and joyful. I- I don’t know if I’m making connections that aren’t there, but the feeling I had in that house was the same feeling I used to get when I was growing up.”

He tilted his head. "What feeling?"

“...Jealousy.”

His eyebrows knitted. “Jealousy?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, gathering your thoughts. “You could feel so much rage in there. Everything that made the home feel homey—that warmth, that love—was completely shattered. The way the unsub positioned the family members under the Christmas tree, the way the note was tucked into the stocking… There’s a reason for it. Christmas represents this idealized view of perfection. I don’t think the message was to prove that the company going bankrupt is some sort of imperfection in the family’s picture-perfect life. No, it feels like the unsub was jealous of their happiness. Of the fact that they had a family who seemed perfect—something he never had. He wanted to destroy it. To ruin their happiness. He could never have it, so he shattered the illusion of perfection entirely.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing your words. “So you think the Reynolds’s were targeted as surrogates?”

“I guess so. But you don’t just stumble across a neighborhood as desolate as theirs.” you responded.

“It could still be one of the employees of the construction company. If Stephen bragged about his perfect family to the wrong person, it could have triggered something.”

You hummed in agreement, but Spencer could see there was more on your mind. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

“As I got older, I learned that blaming others wasn’t going to make me feel any better about my situation. It’s like the unsub hasn’t realized that yet. The way he executed this crime—it’s almost like a child throwing a tantrum. He was so meticulous in setting everything up, and then once he got what he wanted, he just… walked away. There was no care for the aftermath, no consideration of what would happen afterward.”

“Do you think the unsub could still be a child?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Your mind clicked, and for the first time, the puzzle pieces seemed to fit together. “How old was the kid when he was put into foster care?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Eight. Why?” Spencer's confusion was evident.

“It’s been ten years since that house caught fire. That would make him eighteen now, and—"

Spencer’s eyes widened as realization struck. “And that he just got out of foster care.”

"Exactly," you said, rolling out of bed and storming downstairs.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Spencer called after you, quickly grabbing his cardigan from the chair in the corner of the room before hurrying to catch up.

“Be quiet, I don’t want to wake anyone.” You instructed, feeling Spencer’s presence behind you as you moved toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he hissed in a whisper as you opened Garcia’s laptop on the table. You didn’t respond, your fingers already flying over the keys as you settled into a chair.

Spencer huffed, knowing full well there was no stopping you once your mind was set. He hovered behind you, draping the cardigan over your shoulders. “I’m not covering for you if Garcia finds out,” he warned, glancing over your shoulder at the screen.

“That’s fine. I know exactly what to say to win her over,” you said nonchalantly, clicking away. In your mind, the image of Spencer in the shower was still vivid—a story you could easily use to distract Penelope if it came to that.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you found the file. “Here it is,” you muttered, eyes scanning the information on Christopher Eriksen. You clicked to open it fully, Spencer already reading ahead of you.

“They found bruises all over his body when he was put into foster care,” he read aloud, his voice tense as the words sank in.

You leaned forward, your breath catching. “This is it,” you murmured. “His parents— they must’ve bought into that ‘perfect family’ image of the neighborhood, but behind closed doors, they were hiding this. Can you imagine what it must’ve been like for him? Everyone thinking his parents were saints, while they were hurting him? All the while, they’re the ones who get a memorial bench, their lives celebrated while they tortured him.”

“It was on Christmas that he was put into foster care. Now, it’s the first Christmas since he’s been out. It makes sense to go back to the place where it all started,” Spencer concluded.

“I need to go there,” you said urgently, slamming the laptop shut.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Spencer asked, bewildered. He immediately followed you as you rushed to the door, still in your pajamas. “You’re not seriously planning on going out like that?”

“It’s just a quick peek. I need to see if I was right about the bench,” you said, almost to yourself, already focused on the task ahead. You didn’t even glance behind you as you pulled on your shoes and yanked open the front door, wrapping Spencer’s cardigan tighter around yourself to ward off the cold.

In moments like these, Spencer knew exactly who had trained you. You were unmistakably like Gideon—determined, single-minded, and often impulsive once your mind was set. And that, in turn, always left Spencer in a state of mild panic.

“You can’t drive at night,” he said, his voice rising with concern as he followed you into the snow-covered yard. “You have nyctalopia!”

You didn’t stop, your focus unwavering. “You should take night-blindness seriously, it takes forever for your pupils to dilate, and by that time, you’ve already missed the stop sign or, I don’t know, hit a pothole or something. Your contrast sensitivity goes down, so objects blend into the background, and—did I mention the glare from headlights? Because that’s a huge problem, and it makes it worse! You’re already having trouble seeing, and now the glare from every car that passes is just blinding you. It's like trying to navigate in a fog, but it’s just light fog, which—okay, that’s a really bad analogy, but you get the point!”

His words fell into the background as you continued walking, your mind fully occupied with proving your theory. The case had been driving you mad. If you could just confirm that the bench was broken—that Christopher was the one who’d done it in a moment of anger—everything would click. The case would be solved. You’d give the Reynolds family peace. And, selfishly, you’d give yourself peace.

“Please,” Spencer begged, now standing in front of the car door, blocking your path. “If you’re going, at least let me drive.”

His comment made you halt in front of the car. “You hate driving,” you pointed out.

“I’d rather be uncomfortable for a few minutes than risk something happening to you,” he admitted.

You stared at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for how much he cared, how he believed your theory and was willing to go along with you. 

You reached out and took his hands. It was a gesture he rarely tolerated from anyone, but you’d learned over the years that Spencer appreciated it when it came from you. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Thanks, Spence,” your words were simple but your voice was full of appreciation.

He swallowed, his eyes softening as he nodded. “We’ll just take a quick look, right?”

“I swear,” you promised. “Just a quick look.”

He sighed, still clearly uneasy but unwilling to argue. You handed him the car keys and moved to the passenger side, sliding into the seat. 

—————

Spencer slowed the car as you neared the familiar area, the headlights casting long shadows over the snowy driveway.

"Let’s stop the car here," you suggested. The thought crossed your mind just in time—it would be very inappropriate to drive into a quiet neighborhood with an unknown car at this hour, especially after a murder had taken place.

You and Spencer stepped out of the car, the cold biting at your skin as you walked side by side. You stayed close to him, partly to keep warm, partly to follow his tracks through the snow, the dark pressing in around you. The Christmas lights that had lit up the neighborhood earlier were now off, leaving everything shrouded in an eerie quiet.

You made your way to the bench. Your hand skimmed over the smooth wood, lingering on the top right corner where you felt a distinct break—something sharp and jagged where a piece had clearly been broken off. You exhaled in relief. You were right.

Spencer’s hand shot out to gently grab your wrist, his fingers warm against the cold night air. "Careful," he warned. "You don’t want splinters. Stay here, I’ll grab a flashlight from the car."

You nodded, watching as his footsteps faded into the distance, his figure disappearing into the darkness.

You scanned the area. Everything was silent, beside the occasional crunch of snow beneath your feet. Your eyes were drawn to a dim light flickering from inside the rebuilt house where the Eriksens used to live, just past the bench. Before you could second-guess yourself, your feet were already moving toward the light.

You crept closer to the window, standing on your toes to peak inside. The house was barely furnished, still very much in the process of being worked on before it could be sold. You pressed your hands against the cold glass, forming makeshift goggles with your fingers, your face just inches away from the window as you tried to get a better look.

A sudden pressure on your stomach snapped you out of your thoughts. Before you could react, an arm tightened around your waist, yanking you away from the glass. For a brief moment you thought Spencer was playing some kind of prank, trying to startle you—but the movement was so fast and forceful, you knew Spencer would never grab you that aggressively.

Your gasp caught in your throat, immediately silenced as a cold, rough hand clamped over your mouth. Panic surged, but your body went stiff when the sharp edge of a knife pressed to your throat. You didn’t need any further confirmation that this was the unsub.

"I don’t know who you are," the voice rasped, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. "But you shouldn’t have shown up here."

You could feel his rage, his plan ruined by your unexpected presence. Every instinct screamed at you to fight back, but you remained frozen, knowing that one wrong move could end it all.

“I didn’t plan on killing anyone innocent, but you’ve put yourself in this situation,” he spat, his grip tightening on the knife.

In that fleeting moment, you made a decision. Taking a leap of faith, you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his palm. The sudden bite startled him, and by sheer luck, he loosened his grip on the weapon.

“Christopher!” You shouted, the name ringing out with urgency.

It was enough to catch him off guard. In that instant, you turned, quickly positioning yourself with a better angle. He was taller than you—still, just a boy, consumed by something far beyond his control. His pain was evident, lurking beneath the fury in his eyes. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Who are you?” His voice was strained, the words gripping with suspicion and confusion.

“I’m here to help you,” you said sincerely, keeping your voice steady.

“No, you’re not,” he denied.

“I swear I am. I know what happened to you. I know what your parents did to you.”

Without warning, he shoved you hard against the house. Your head slammed into the window, a sharp pain exploding in your skull. “You don’t know anything!” he screamed.

“I do, Christopher. I do!” The words came from a place of desperation, your breath ragged. “I understand. I know how much this eats at you, how alone you feel because you’re the only one who knows the truth. But it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. The truth will come out. People will know what your parents did, what really happened here. You’ll get what you want, the world will see that they’re not perfect.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something soft, vulnerable. 

“They all knew what happened!” He said in anger, pointing at the houses surrounding you. “They all knew and no one said anything!” He shook his head, “I’ll never get what I want. It’s too late for that.” he muttered bitterly.

Despite his words, you felt a flicker of hope. He was talking. He was listening. That had to count for something.

“It’s not too late, Christopher,” you firmly spoke. “I thought the same thing once. But family… family isn’t just the people you’re born to. You can build your own, one that will love you despite everything. I’ve got that family now.”

He swallowed hard, his face momentarily flickering with doubt. “I wish I could believe you,” he said, his voice tinged with regret.

And then, in a flash, his arm shot out. Instinctively, you braced yourself, squeezing your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable strike.

As the seconds stretched on, a flood of memories flashed before your eyes, a cruel reminder of everything you had to lose.

But then, a loud thud echoed in the night. Christopher crumpled to the ground, his body going limp. You whipped your head up, heart in throat, and saw Spencer standing behind him, the butt of his gun covered in blood, the impact of the blow knocking Christopher out cold. 

A shaky breath escaped you, half a sob, half a gasp of relief. You stumbled toward Spencer, your legs nearly giving out as you threw yourself into his arms. 

“I’m so sorry,” you cried into his chest, voice cracking. “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”

He shushed, brushing a hand through your hair as he held you close. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he murmured soothingly. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Twenty minutes later, the team and the police arrived. Spencer had called Hotch the second you’d calmed down enough, and by the time they got there, Christopher was still passed out. The officers dragged him into the back of their car, while JJ and Prentiss took it upon themselves to reassure the neighbors that they had someone in custody.

You knew exactly what was coming when Hotch finally made his way over to you and Spencer, but your head was pounding too much to care.

Hotch scanned the two of you with a sharp, disapproving look. “Really? You went to catch an unsub in your pajamas?”

“The whole ‘catching the unsub’ thing wasn’t exactly part of the plan,” you muttered, wincing slightly as the headache flared.

Hotch exhaled sharply, then turned to Spencer, his gaze a little more pointed. “I could’ve expected this from her, but I expected better from you, Reid.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, knowing there was no defense. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Hotch gave a sigh in response, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m too tired to deal with the two of you right now. I expect to see both of you in my office in the morning.”

“Actually, I checked all the rooms in the cabin, and there’s no office. Which is surprising, considering—”

“Spence,” you interrupted him with a nudge of your elbow.

He shot you a tight-lipped look, turning back to Hotch. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————

The second you closed the car door behind you and buckled your seatbelt, you passed out. You’d always slept best during car rides, and especially now, with your mind much quieter now that Christopher Eriksen wasn’t your problem anymore.

When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you were still sound asleep. Derek told Spencer to wake you, but he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he carefully made his way to your side of the car, unbuckling your seatbelt. He lifted you into his arms, trying not to huff too loudly as he carried you through the thick snow. He made his way up the stairs quickly, hoping Penelope wouldn’t notice the wet tracks from his boots inside the house—he couldn’t take them off while holding you.

He was glad you were in your pajamas as he gently laid you on the bed. He walked over to the closet, grabbing some extra blankets and draping them over you, hoping it would help you regain some warmth.

Then, he crawled into bed beside you. Closer than he would’ve dared if you were awake, not quite touching, but close enough to share body heat. His gaze lingered on you, watching how peaceful you looked. The night had been a lot to handle, but he knew he’d do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.

The bright light reflected off the snow outside, filtering into the room. Groaning, you rubbed your eyes, the movement only making your headache worse. You huffed and carefully opened your eyes, being met with the sight of Spencer. His hair was a curly mess, and a small, warm smile painted his face.

“Hey, how’s your head?” he asked softly.

The events of last night rushed back to you, and you groaned again. “So, all of that really happened?”

“It did,” Spencer confirmed.

“I really hoped I just got drunk on too much Glühwein,” you sighed, wincing at the thought.

“You can still do that tonight,” he teased.

“No,” you muttered in disgust. “I need to recover from this first.”

You glanced over at him again, seeing the concern still shining in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation last night,” you said quietly. “Everything about it was just... stupid.”

“If you hadn’t insisted on going, who knows who else he could’ve hurt,” Spencer pointed out.

“I guess that’s true.” You thought about it for a second, the weight lifting slightly. “Still, I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“I’m glad I went with you,” Spencer said, his voice softening. “If I hadn’t... I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened to you. I would never forgive myself if I wouldn’t have been there in time.”

You gave a heavy sigh, turning your gaze to the ceiling. “That’s why it’s probably best we stay friends,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. Despite Emily’s pep talk, this was proof that it wouldn’t be wise to start something serious with Spencer.

“Friends instead of what?” Spencer asked, his voice higher, as if eager to hear the answer.

“Instead of us dating,” you said, almost offhandedly, not realizing you were speaking aloud about something you’d never discussed before, even though the topic would come up eventually.

Spencer froze, his eyes wide, hope flickering in them as he looked at you. “You would date me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You froze too, catching up with the fact that you had said that out loud. Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately turned your gaze to the ceiling, not daring to look at his expression.

“Uh—hypothetically,” you stammered, scrambling to cover your tracks.

“You would hypothetically date me?”

You swallowed, still too flustered to look at him. “Yes. If... you would, I mean. If you wanted that, too...?”

Spencer was silent for a beat, his gaze never leaving you. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” you answered, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your head.

He slowly moved closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You flinched back instinctively, and he immediately withdrew his hand, his expression apologetic.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your heart beating faster.

“You said you’d want to date me,” he murmured, his voice unsure.

“Yes, but—” you stopped yourself as the realization hit that he was planning to kiss you. “Oh.”

Tentatively, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. You leaned in a little, but this time it was him who pulled back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Kissing you.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, his tongue darting over his lips. “Okay.”

You smiled softly, then closed the distance, your lips gently pressing to his.

Spencer hummed in satisfaction, both of you staying like that for a moment, neither of you wanting to pull away. You were the first to break the kiss, catching your breath. If it were up to Spencer, he’d keep his lips on yours forever.

Your eyes fluttered open, faces still inches apart. Spencer cupped your face and pulled you back in, placing several soft pecks on your lips before he leaned on his arm, slightly hovering over you as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to mirror his movements, but a sharp pain shot through your skull. “Ouch,” you hissed, pulling back.

“Just lay down, let me take care of you,” Spencer assured, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. You slowly lower yourself onto your back, the soft sheets crinkling beneath you, and Spencer moves above you, the blankets still covering both of you.

His lips found yours again. He kept them slightly parted, giving you the chance to slide your tongue against his. The world outside seemed to disappear as you melted into each other, lips moving in sync.

The kisses become more heated, each one a little deeper than the last. His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, the other hand resting on your side, his touch sending little sparks of warmth wherever it brushed.

You could feel the heat between you growing. “I’m so warm…” you mumbled against his lips. 

His eyes darkened slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was rough as his fingers lightly trailed over the buttons of your pyjama shirt. “Do you want me to take this off?”

You nodded, and he slowly started undoing each button with purposeful care. His gaze flickering between your eyes and the exposed skin. He let out a moan when your shirt finally fell open, his eyes taking you in. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out in awe, before pressing his lips to yours again. 

You responded eagerly, your hands fumbling between your bodies to undo his shirt in the same way. You slid the fabric off his shoulders, letting your hands run over the muscles of his back, feeling the heat of his skin. 

He gently pressed his body weight down on you, and you shuddered at the feeling of your nipples pressing against his bare chest.

His lips delicately kissed your face, until he reached your ear. He nipped at your lobe, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “Do you like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You answered in a soft moan, your body arching into him. He didn’t need to ask again; he could tell you were enjoying this as much as he was.

His lips slid lower, kissing and sucking on your neck, while his hand slid down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles.

His mouth moved to your collarbone, and then he teasingly dipped lower.

“God, Spence,” you softly moaned as he placed a wet kiss on your lower stomach. “That feels so good.”

His hand, which has been resting on your breast, trails down until it reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants.

“More, please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips instinctively. His fingers slide around the band as he slowly pulls them down, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

He lowers himself onto his stomach on the mattress. With a tender touch, he lifts your legs over his shoulders.

“Is this okay?”

For a moment, you’ve lost yourself in his gaze—those warm brown eyes looking up at you, his pink lips swollen from his kisses…

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond, nodding.

You moaned as his mouth made contact with your inner thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your skin. He took his time, kissing his way to the sensitive spot where you needed him most.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice shaky with need.

The anticipation was unbearable as his hot breath tickled you, but you didn’t have to wait much longer. Slowly, his tongue flicked over your pussy, and you gasped, your body trembling at the touch.

He moaned in response, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, his tongue swirling in soft, teasing motions that had your hips lifting off the bed in search of more. 

“So fucking sweet,” he muttered against you, before repeating the motion, licking you again and again, while he grinded himself against the matress.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, your body quivering as he continued. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his finger moving up and down your pussy until it entered you gently, then slowly adding another, the stretch an overwhelming pleasure. 

You gasped his name, your body writhing beneath him as the pressure built with every move. “Spencer… please, don’t stop…” you begged, voice thick with need.

His fingers curled inside you, pressing just the right spot as his tongue continued swirling around you. Your legs started trembling as you reached the edge.

“I’m—“ you gasped, but the words dissolved into a string of moans as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your legs were shaking as you came undone, clenching around his fingers, your hips bucking against his mouth. 

Spencer didn’t stop, though. He kept going at a gentle pace, letting you ride out the intensity of your orgasm. Then, he slowly pulled away, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, eyes wide and full of wonder. 

“Was that good?” he asked softly, licking his lips. 

You laughed breathlessly as you nodded, your chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Come here,” you whispered seductively, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his lips, which only added to your arousal.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with desire, his forehead pressed to yours. “I need you. I need to be inside of you.”

You nodded, moving your hand down his body, feeling the hardness of him against your palm. He helped you pull his pants down, and you stroked him gently, feeling him twitch in your hand before guiding him toward your entrance. He let out a low groan, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly pushed into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, his hips stuttering as he filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent.

You could feel every inch of him, every movement as his cock repeatedly hit those places inside that made your head spin. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, your moans mixing with his ragged breaths.

“You’re so warm,” Spencer whimpered. “So perfect for me.” 

Your hands gripped his back, nails digging into his skin as you urged him on, your body moving with his. His pace quickened, and you couldn’t hold back the desperate cries that escaped you. 

“Spencer… I’m so close,” you gasped.

“Me too,” he moaned, his hips slamming into yours. “Let me come with you. Please, let me come with you.”

You nodded, your body trembling. “Now, Spencer…” you begged in a breathless plea.

His breath hitched, his body tensing as he gave one last deep thrust, and then, with a loud, guttural moan, he came inside you. You followed a moment later, your body clenching around him as you fell apart. 

The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths, the sound of two bodies, tangled in a quiet, shared moment of bliss. Spencer collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling as he took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“That was… perfect,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.

You smiled softly as you placed your head on his chest, fingers lazily tracing his stomach. “Yeah,” you said in a breath, your heart full of him. “It really was.”

You let out a soft groan as Spencer stood up, and you instinctively reached for his hand, pulling him back toward you. “Don’t go yet,” you pouted.

Spencer smiled, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and affection. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, wrapping a blanket around his waist before walking to the corner of the room. He rummaged through his bag, his back turned to you for a moment as you blatantly checked him out.

“I miss you,” you murmured, leaning back into the pillows.

He chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not even five feet away from you.”

You shrugged, your voice a little teasing. “Still feels like you're miles away.”

With a smile, he walked back toward you, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hands behind his back. “Which hand?” he playfully asked.

“Left,” you replied without hesitation.

He swiftly shifted the small box he’d been holding from his right hand to his left, then grinned, revealing the gift. “Here you go.”

You blinked in surprise. “That was your present?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder as you recognized the familiar wrapping Garcia had handed you the day before.

Spencer nodded, watching you closely. “Yeah. Open it.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you unwrapped the gift, your heart racing with excitement. Beneath the paper was a velvet black jewelry box. You glanced up at Spencer, your eyes searching his for affirmation. He gave a soft nod, accompanied by an encouraging smile.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, you opened the box—inside was the most stunning heart-shaped locket you’d ever seen.

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you breathed out, feeling a mixture of awe and disbelief. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

A shy smile tugged at Spencer’s lips as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ear. “It used to be my mom’s,” he explained. “She doesn’t wear jewelry much anymore, but she wanted me to keep it... to give it to someone special one day.”

Your heart melted at the thought, and you looked at him with newfound tenderness, the weight of his gesture sinking in. 

“She was happy when I told her I wanted to give it to you,” he added.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Your mom knows about me?”

Spencer nodded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I tell her pretty much everything. She likes hearing about you most.”

“Why?” You curiously asked.

Spencer's smile deepened, and he looked down at his lap for a moment, as though gathering courage. When he looked up at you again, his eyes were full of love.

“Because you make me happy.”

After your intimate moment with Spencer, the inevitable conversation with Hotch had to happen. Just before the talk, Hotch received a call from the lab confirming the DNA found on the Reynolds matched Christopher Eriksen’s—meaning the bittersweet news of Christopher going to prison.

“I still don’t get how the two smartest people on the team act like half a brain when they’re together,” Hotch had said with a half-smile, glancing at you and Spencer. “But… you did good work.”

—————

Later that morning, Emily spotted you, her eyes immediately drawn to the locket around your neck. “Fancy,” she commented, her smirk growing as she cocked an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you absently played with the necklace, a soft smile on your lips. “It’s Spencer’s. He gave it to me.”

Emily’s smirk turned into a knowing smile, and you could see the proud glint in her eyes. “You two are something else.”

—————

Throughout the day you and Spencer did your own thing, trying to act casual in front of the team—yet every time his hand brushed your back or he leaned in for a quick kiss in the empty hallway, your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at him as he played chess with Rossi, your eyes catching his in those fleeting moments.

You felt Spencer’s presence behind you like a familiar warmth as you stood in the kitchen. He slipped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a romantic?” you mused, running your fingers through his hair, the feeling of him against you enough to make your heart race.

His lips hummed against your skin. “It’s your fault,” he stated, his voice thick with affection. “You drive me crazy.”

You tugged him up the stairs to your shared room, pushing him playfully onto the bed. You stood between his legs as you began to slowly peel away your clothes, revealing the red laced lingerie set Derek had gifted you during Secret Santa.

“Never thought I’d be thanking Derek for gifting you this,” Spencer mused, his hands sliding up and down your legs, a smirk displayed on his lips.

You smiled, tracing his jaw with your thumb, the heat between you growing. “What do you think of checking out the hot tub?” you purred.

He swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking down to his lap. You rolled your eyes as you responded in a sigh, “You can choose the temperature.”

Before you could say another word, he scooped you up, lifting you over his shoulder with a playful slap to your ass. You yelped, giggling as he carried you off toward the bathroom.

—————

The cabin was large, but unfortunately not big enough to avoid Garcia, so you knew what was coming when you heard the familiar sound of her heels clicking against the hallway floor. She was heading straight toward you, her finger pointing accusingly at you.

“I slept with Spencer.” you hurriedly spilled out before she could say something.

She stopped in her tracks. Her face went through a thousand different expressions in the blink of an eye—confusion, disbelief, excitement—before she finally let out a high-pitched squeal. “You... you slept with Spencer?”

“Twice,” you giddily answered, the smile creeping across your face before you could stop it.

Garcia’s expression finally broke into a huge grin, and without missing a beat, she grabbed your hands and started bouncing on the spot. “Derek is gonna lose his mind!”

You barely had time to protest before she was already up the stairs.

As the end of the day drew near, the group gathered around the fire pit in the backyard, cocoa mugs in hand, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on everyone’s faces. 

“Are you sure your phone is on silent?” Garcia asked Hotch, eyeing him with suspicion.

“I’m sure, Garcia,” Hotch replied with a small smile.

She was satisfied, her focus shifting to Rossi. “The honor is yours. You may present the last Secret Santa gift.”

Rossi cleared his throat, glancing around awkwardly. “Now, this might sound like a cheap excuse for forgetting to buy a present…” Laughter rippled through the group, and Garcia shot him an offended look. “But... I think I can speak for all of us when I say the best gift is us being together in this beautiful location.”

He turned to Hotch, his voice genuine. “Aaron, you’ve built a good team here. A good family. You should be proud.”

Hotch’s smile softened, his eyes briefly glancing over the group, the weight of the moment settling on him. “I am. Thank you, David.”

And for the first time, you didn’t question whether you deserved a place in this loving, dysfunctional family—you knew you belonged.

[mint-yooxgi]

The Morning After - Slight Yandere!Vampire!Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Slight Yandere AU, Idol AU, Fated Lovers AU & Original Vampire AU

Genre: Mature, Intense Smut, Fluff

Pairing: Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader (Implied OT8 X Reader)

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Words: 8,246

Warnings: Feral Yeosang, Biting, Blood, Possession Kink (don't heed this particular warning lightly, but please know everything said between them is very much consensual, mutual, and wanted), Strength Kink, Oral (fem. rec), Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Squirting, Cream Pie, Wall Sex, Couch Sex, Fingering (fem. rec), Kitchen Sex, Pet Names (Beloved, Dearest, My Dear, My Queen/King, Songbird, Beautiful), Established Relationship, Implied Insecurities (OC and Yeosang just had a talk before this scene about her insecurities regarding her body), Originally written in first person, but edited for second so if you see any mistakes, no you didn't. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed anything! This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

Context/Summary: Yeosang and you have just spent your first night together as an official couple. You wake up to a pleasant surprise curtesy of the man who loves you unconditionally, and is always ready and willing to please.

A/n: So, this is another scene from my extremely self-indulgent fic I'm writing myself, but I just loved how it turned out. I'm really proud of the smut, and I just found the possession aspect really hot, so I wanted to share it with all of you! You can definitely still read this even if you're not tall and/or chubby, but that's how I envisioned for it to be. This fic is originally in first person, but I edited it to be in second person for posting. I really hope you enjoy feral vampire Yeosang as much as I do! Enjoy, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

“Took me a moment to remember where I put it, but I knew I saved a special shirt here just for you.”

Gently, you reach out to take the large, oversized shirt Yeosang offers you, thanking him lowly. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you feel the soft material between your fingers. Not even a moment later, you slip it over your head, carefully settling it into place over your naked body.

Yeosang offers you his hand.

This time, you gladly take it.

With a gentle tug, Yeosang pulls you out of bed and onto your feet. His shirt falls just over all of the important bits, but it makes you feel comfortable nonetheless.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest.

“I think I’m starting to understand the appeal of you wanting to peg me in one of your sweaters,” He hums, spinning you lightly in a circle. Amber eyes admire every inch of your body, lingering on your bare legs as he licks his lips. “You look stunning in my shirt, Beloved.”

A soft giggle escapes you, your cheeks warming as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you fuck me in it later.”

A growl escapes him, his arm tightening around your waist. “Promise?”

Another soft chuckle escapes you, a smile tugging at your lips. “We have all weekend, Sangie. I’ll let you do more than just that.”

“Fuck- I love you,” Yeosang’s lashes flutter as he guides you towards the kitchen. “Literally, could you be any more perfect?”

Your smile widens, if at all possible, as we enter the kitchen. A plate of pancakes rests on the counter, along with some freshly cut fruit, some orange juice, and-

You gasp excitedly, your eyes widening, “Apple juice!”

You part from Yeosang’s hold in order to waddle over excitedly to the counter. Your eyes shine as you take it all in, admiring the plating and the effort he put into making you both breakfast.

“I hope you’re hungry, My Dear,” He hums, stepping in beside you and wrapping his arm around your waist once more. “And there’s no need to worry. I made sure the pancakes were lactose free.”

Your eyes shine with affection, your heart warming at the care he’s put into this.

“Thank you, Yeosang,” You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Truly, this has been more than I could have ever hoped for.”

Yeosang melts into your embrace, hugging you just as tightly as you hug him.

“I’m glad.” He hums. “If I can provide to you even a sliver of the same happiness that you bring me, then I’ve succeeded in life.”

“Okay, you are far more romantic and articulate than people give you credit for.” You squeeze him lightly, placing a lingering kiss to the side of his head. “Thank you, Yeosang. I appreciate all of this more than you’ll ever know. I appreciate you.”

Pulling away, Yeosang stares into your eyes with nothing but fondness in his own.

“I love you, Dearest,” Though his voice is low, you still hear him loud and clear. “I will spend every day until the very end of time proving that to you. There is nothing, absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’m simply happy that I can provide for you, and show you in multiple ways that I care.”

“Yeosang,” You smile, reaching up to brush some hair off of his forehead. “I hope you know that everything you said to me also applies to me for you. Just as you provide for me, I will provide for you, and I want you to know,” You cup his face tenderly, “I am in love with you, too.”

A brilliant smile stretches across his lips, his eyes crinkling at the sides. The way a soft giggle escapes him warms your heart, noticing how he hops onto his tiptoes to peck your lips.

“Sit down and relax, My Dear,” He hums, motioning to the chairs at the counter. “Let me serve you your breakfast.”

“It’s okay, Sangie,” You go to reach for a plate. “I can serve myself, you don’t have to-“

Your words die in my throat as you see the dramatic pout that pulls at his lips. The fact that he snatches the plate away from you, holding it protectively out of your reach makes you laugh.

“Okay, okay,” You concede. “You may serve me my food, My King.”

Instantly, that radiant smile is back on his features, practically skipping around the counter as he piles food onto your plate. A soft melody is hummed curtesy of the man before you, placing your plate in front of you once he’s satisfied with the amount of food he’s given you.

You cannot help but smile at the fact that he even made a little smiley face on top of the pancakes with the fruit.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” You hum, resting your head in the palm of your hand as you watch him make up his own plate.

A small pout is sent your way as he pauses putting food on his plate.

“Adorably handsome.” You correct with a chuckle, watching as he beams happily at you in response.

Once he’s served himself, he eagerly scurries beside you, hoisting himself into the chair in one fluid movement.

You can’t help but admire him the whole time, silently watching as he pours you both glasses of juice. A tender smile rests on your lips as he slides your glass over to you, grabbing it with your one hand as you motion for him to come closer with the other.

Curiously, Yeosang leans towards you. You meet him halfway, placing your hand gently beneath his chin. A tender kiss is placed upon his lips, letting your own linger for a moment before pulling away with a soft smile on your face.

“Thank you for such a wonderful breakfast, My King.”

A soft giggle greets your ears in response, noticing how his cheeks dust the slightest bit of pink.

“I hope you enjoy, My Queen.”

You shoot him a happy smile before grabbing your fork and beginning to eat.

The fruit is both incredibly fresh and sweet, practically melting on your tongue with every bite. You can’t help but hum lowly, complimenting him on picking the ripest fruits.

You swear you see him sit a little taller, chest puffing out in pride.

Pausing to take a sip of your apple juice, you notice Yeosang staring at you with such an affectionate look in his eyes. His head rests against his closed fist, lips pulled upwards at the corners in a soft smile.

“You’re so beautiful,” He sighs happily, gaze flitting everywhere over your features.

You cannot help the way your cheeks warm at his honest words, your own lips tugging upwards bashfully. You turn towards him to respond, but before a single word can leave your lips, you feel something cool and wet pressing against them.

A piece of melon is pressed softly against your lips, Yeosang smiling so tenderly at you from behind his fork. You cannot help but smile, graciously biting into the melon he offers you.

Over the next few minutes, you both feed each other bites of food. The silence that settles around you both is comfortable, an air of ease surrounding the entire apartment. It’s peaceful, and intimate. Simply two souls finding solace in the other’s presence. It warms your heart, making it swell with love for him at the same time.

Once your plates are clear, you sit in silence for a few moment. Yeosang leans in to rest his head on your shoulder, and you take the opportunity to rest yours on top of his. The subtle rise and fall of his chest can be felt against your arm, comforting you as your eyelids begin to droop once more.

“Why don’t you go back to bed, Dearest? I’ll join you in a minute, after I finish cleaning up.”

You hum, sitting back to your full height while stretching out your back. A few satisfying pops can be heard, and you take the time to crack your neck as well.

“I’ll help you clean up.” You say, already sliding off of your chair and onto your feet. “It’s the least I can do after you made me such a wonderful breakfast.”

Yet again, Yeosang turns his pout on you.

“Uh-uh,” You wag your finger at him playfully. “Not this time!”

With a sigh, the vampire across the counter from you concedes. “Fine…”

You grin, already grabbing the juice containers to put back into the fridge. The door falls shut with a soft bang, and you turn around to begin putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Yeosang has already managed to put the fruit into a container, working on the pancakes next.

A soft smile pulls at your features as you rinse the dishes, placing them in their proper spots inside of the dishwasher. You work from the top down, happy that the layout is similar to the machines you’re used to using back home. As such, you think nothing about your habit of lifting your one leg in the air behind you to balance yourself when bending down to close the dishwasher. The door shuts with a soft click, and you’re quick to stand back to your full height.

A low, rumbling growl fills the air, causing a shiver to rush down your spine. 

You turn around slowly, suddenly aware of the thick tension filling the room. Your eyes are wide, heart skipping a beat as you see Yeosang standing mere feet away from you with a predatory look in his eyes. Black veins trickle out over his cheeks, that brilliant amber pulsing within his dark gaze.

“Uh…” Your eyes dart to the side, unsure of what you did to have him looking at you so intensely. Your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, and that’s when you realize: oh yeah, you’re only wearing his shirt.

When you bent over to close the dishwasher, Yeosang more than likely got a perfect view of your ass and, or your bare cunt.

Heat immediately flares to your cheeks, heart skipping a beat in excitement. The ways he’s looking at you… You could drown in it.

“Get on the fucking counter, Dearest,” Slowly, Yeosang begins stalking towards you, that dark predatory look still in his eyes. “I want to hear My Songbird sing.”

You balance yourself on the edge of the counter with your hand, your stomach flipping in pleasure at the intensity of his stare. Your breath catches, feeling yourself clench lightly around nothing as you subconsciously take a step backwards.

Yeosang is before you in the blink of an eye, pressing you back into the edge of the counter. The tip of his nose ghosts over your pulse, his face buried in the side of your neck as you brace yourself against the granite.

Slow hands caress your outer thighs, sliding upwards and pushing the material of the shirt you wear with them. The feather-like caresses cause tingles to erupt over your skin, a soft gasp escaping you as he suddenly lifts you onto the cool surface of the counter.

Your thighs part naturally as Yeosang slots himself between them, his tongue flicking out against the skin of your neck.

“You smell delectable, My Dear,” A gentle nibble is given to your neck, his fangs scraping against your skin. “I could live off of the scent of us mixed together that radiates from your skin.”

As if to prove his point, Yeosang inhales deeply into the side of your neck.

A stuttering moan escapes him, whole body shivering in delight. His hands softly caress over the tops of your thighs, kneading gently at your flesh as he pulls you in closer to him. Already, you can feel the outline of his semi-hard cock pressing against your core, nothing but the thin material of his underwear separating you from each other.

Ever so slowly, Yeosang purposefully laves his tongue upwards from the base of your throat to your jawline. His lips suckle at your skin, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses across your jaw until he reaches your mouth. The way your lips are parted allows him to easily slip his tongue through them, kissing you with a newfound hunger as he holds you close.

Your arms settle around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair as you happily kiss him back. The movement of his tongue is slow and sensuous, making your head spin as you whimper against his lips. A surprised whine catches in your throat as he brings his hands around to squeeze your ass, pulling you flush against him.

You hook your ankles behind his back, tugging him in even closer and refusing to let him go.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest.

“That’s it, Dearest,” His fangs nibble at your lower lip, piercing the skin gently and causing you to gasp. “I want to feel you clinging to me as I make you scream my name.”

The tip of his tongue flicks over the small puncture he’s just made with his fang, tracing over your lips as he suckles gently at the wound.

“Everything about you is fucking addictive, Beloved,” Another sharp nip is given to your lower lip, suckling eagerly at the blood that trickles from the fresh punctures he’s just made. “Do me a favour and just enjoy yourself, yeah? I don’t want you thinking of anything but me today. Do you understand?”

The sharp look he wears as he pulls away to meet your gaze says it all.

Your stomach flips, clenching hard around nothing as you feel pleasure beginning to pool within your core.

“Yes, Sangie,” Your eyes hood over, breathing deepening slightly as you reach up to brush some hair off of his face. “I understand, My King.”

“Good Girl.”

The snarl he lets out goes right to your core, and you cannot help the whimper that escapes your lips. Your hips involuntarily jerk forwards, nails pressing a little harder into his skin.

“Gonna worship this pretty pussy all fucking day,” His thumb traces dangerously close to the apex of your thighs, brushing gently over the sensitive, innermost part. “Wanna hear you crying out for me in bliss as you flood my every sense.”

Your lips part, soft pants beginning to escape you as he rolls his hips into your own. The outline of his cock presses directly against your clit, and you swear that you can even feel yourself beginning to soak through the material of his underwear.

“Such a beautiful sight,” His one hand comes up to caress over the side of your face, eyes flicking everywhere over your features as if committing this moment to memory. Of which, you just know he is. “I served you a feast. Now, it’s time for you to serve me mine.”

Slowly, Yeosang begins sinking to his knees. Never once does he break eye contact with you, his fingers sinking into the plushness of your thighs as he spreads you wide open for him to see.

The moment he lays his eyes on your glistening pussy, he moans.

“Fucking gorgeous, My Dear,” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, black veins crackling over his features. “And just in time, too. I’m feeling quite ravenous for you.”

“Oh-“ A soft moan escapes you, your whole body shuddering in pleasure. You feel yourself clench hard around nothing, a small line of arousal dripping down your ass.

The snarl that greets your ears lets you know he saw exactly how you reacted to his words. The fact that his eyes are glowing that golden amber as he stares, fixated at your cunt let’s you know just how true his words are.

“Dearest, if this gets too much, you immediately tell me to stop, and I swear to you I will.” Yeosang states rather firmly, eyes glancing upwards to meet your own. “Promise me you won’t let me push you further than you’re actually willing to go.”

“I promise, Sangie.” A tender look pulls at your features, heart fluttering at his consideration despite how desperate he seems to be. Warmth floods your veins, and you clench around nothing once more, his care and consideration only serving to turn you on even more.

The corners of his lips twitch upwards slightly before he’s turning his head to begin placing sloppy wet kisses along the skin of your thigh. His hands hook beneath your knees, lifting your legs and settling them onto his shoulders. Again, his fangs tease over your skin, nipping and suckling at your tender flesh and leaving multiple marks in their wake.

A sharp sting against the innermost part of your thigh makes you jump, a gasp parting your lips. Not even a moment later, pleasure floods through you as you feel him sucking at your skin, your one hand shifting to tangle in his hair.

A pleased hum reverberates against your thigh, Yeosang soon chuckling lowly. His tongue laves over the fresh bite mark he’s just given you, suckling at your wound and swallowing every drop of blood that he can. Tender kisses are placed atop the mark once he stunts the flow, chest rumbling in pride as he admires his handiwork.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be covered in me,” Yeosang growls, beginning to kiss his way towards your dripping cunt. “My marks.” The sound of a wet, sloppy kiss being placed onto your skin echoes around the room. “My scent.” Another sloppy kiss is given, lips trailing even further up your thigh. “My love.”

Tenderly, he nuzzles his cheek against your thigh, shuffling even closer so that he comes face to face with your cunt. He leans forward, sliding the tip of his nose over your slit and inhaling sharply.

“Fuck…” A stuttering groan escapes him, eyes fluttering shut as hot pants hit your cunt with every exhale. “What a delicate little pussy, already weeping for my touch.”

“Yeosang…” You whimper lightly, shifting your hips and seeking any sort of friction that you can.

Two of his fingers gently trace over your folds before parting you to him, his eyes nearly rolling at the sight.

“Absolutely breathtaking, My Dear,” He groans, licking his lips. The intensity of his stare causes you to clench, and a pleased rumble shakes his chest. “Do that again.”

Immediately, you comply, feeling the way your legs begin to tremble from how turned on you are in this moment.

“Fucking stunning, Beloved,” Yeosang growls, the tips of his fangs peeking out from behind his lips. “Such a pretty little pussy, and all for me to devour.”

“Yeosang, please-“ Again, you clench around nothing, your hips lifting slightly from the counter in need.

“Just lay back and relax, My Dear,” Yeosang’s low voice rumbles out. “I want to hear you sing as I feast on your delectable cunt.”

Without wasting another moment, Yeosang traces his tongue along the edges of your cunt. A pleased hum builds in his throat, his eyes fluttering as he savours your taste on his lips.

You clench hard around nothing once more.

You barely have time to react when Yeosang buries his face into your cunt. His tongue swirls desperately around your entrance, thrusting as deep as he can. Feral growls are breathed into your cunt, pulling you impossibly closer as his nose presses firmly against your clit. You can feel the fingers on his one hand sinking into the flesh of your ass, the other keeping you spread open, giving him unrestricted access to the innermost sensitive parts of your cunt.

“Oh, fuck-“ You choke on a gasp, clenching hard around his tongue as he curls that muscle deep inside of you. “My King!”

A pleased snarl reverberates against you, Yeosang pressing his nose firmer against your clit as he begins slowly fucking you with his tongue. Lewd wet sounds fill the air, only serving to turn you on further as he explores every inch of your dripping cunt with his tongue.

Not a single drop is to go to waste, swirling his tongue inside of you and focussing the very tip on the areas that have you gasping in pleasure. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, supporting yourself with your forearm against the counter as Yeosang seems to lose himself in your pussy.

Desperately, he thrusts his tongue into you, keeping his nose pressed directly against your clit. He shakes his head back and forth, a low growl filling the air as he focusses all of his attention on keeping his tongue pressed against the top of your inner walls.

At one particular calculated thrust, you feel the tip of his tongue nudge something inside of you that causes your thigh to twitch.

“Oh-“ A stuttering moan escapes you, tilting your head back as your eyes flutter in bliss. “Fuck- right there, Sangie- hah-“

You pull him in even closer, much to his delight. All he can offer you is pleased growls in return, listening to every reaction your sinful body makes and holding you close. His tongue continues to thrust into you, pressing firmly against your inner walls and ensuring the tip nudges against that special spot every time.

Your whines begin mirroring his every thrust, clit pulsing against his nose as he shakes his head back and forth. You can feel that familiar pressure building deep inside of you, feeling yourself beginning to rhythmically clench around his tongue.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and with one final thrust of his tongue, a loud cry is escaping your lips. Your back arches slightly as your orgasm washes over you, your thighs shaking around his head. Both of your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him flush against you and holding him to your cunt.

A feral snarl reverberates against you, only adding to the immense pleasure that you feel in this moment. Your chest heaves with every breath, body shaking as he doesn’t stop his ministrations for even one second.

“Oh, Sangie! Hah- Hah-“ Your voice is nothing but an airy, high pitched moan. “Fuck- Don’t stop- oh… Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

The way your voice takes on a slight commanding tone, a rough edge lining your words has him moaning against you. It makes your heart flutter, a surge of confidence rushing through you as you tug him in even closer.

“Fuck, My King! So fucking good to me,” You pant out, clenching hard around his tongue as he swirls it once more inside of you. Your hips begin to grind against him in time with his movements, your heart pounding away inside of your chest. “Just like that, Sangie- Oh!”

Another pleased snarl greets your ears, and you feel him finally remove his tongue from your weeping cunt. He flattens the muscle over your cunt, pressing it firmly against your core as he licks you from bottom to top. Once he reaches your clit, he’s circling his tongue over that sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, all while maintaining that firm pressure.

Your eyes roll at the sensation, and you feel my toes curl slightly. Suddenly, you find that your position has shifted slightly, your legs bent in the air as your feet rest lightly against his upper back. You can practically feel the muscles beneath his skin tensing as he keeps you pinned to the counter, ensuring that you cannot escape the pleasure he’s giving you any time soon.

Your clit pulses as he suckles that pert little bud between his lips, growling and moaning against you as his fingers dig into your skin. He takes his time between alternating between gentle flicks with the tip of his tongue, flattening the muscle and circling it firmly over your clit, and suckling that sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips. Occasionally, he’ll start flicking at your clit while suckling at it, serving to make your head spin, and thighs tremble.

“Oh, Sangie,” You pant, tossing your head back as the arm you have supporting yourself on the counter begins to tremble. You can barely hold yourself up for much longer, grinding your hips desperately against his face as those sharp, lustful eyes stare up at you from between your legs. “You’re gonna make me- ah…”

Your whole body shakes as your orgasm crashes into you. You toss your head back, your arm giving out as you fall flat against the counter top. Your hips thrash wildly against his lips, high pitched whimpers and whines escaping you as you cling to his hair for dear life. You can practically feel yourself dripping down his chin, your toes curling as you whine from overstimulation.

“Yeosang-“ You whimper, still grinding against his lips as he doesn’t slow his ministrations for even one second. “My King- Hah… hah… oh- Fuck, Sangie-“ A hiss escapes your lips, eyes fluttering shut as you completely submerge yourself in the pleasure he provides. “Don’t stop, Dearest. Make me fucking scream.” 

A snarl of agreement echoes against your cunt, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass. You can feel his one hand slip around to your front, two of his fingers teasing at your entrance.

The slow dip of his fingertips between your folds completely contrasts the way his tongue rapidly flicks over your clit. Each exhale is but a rasp on his lips, his chest heaving almost as intensely as your own.

“Gonna make me come again?” You lift your hips against him, grinding in small circles. “Hmmm, Sangie? Gonna make Your Queen squirt all over your pretty face?”

Another snarl of agreement is breathed onto your cunt, a predatory growl filling the room. 

“Yes…” The word is muffled against your cunt, but heard none the less. 

The way his eyes roll as he slips two of his fingers inside of you has you immediately clenching around them. The tips massage against your inner walls, curling rapidly inside of you and instantly finding that special spot that has you seeing stars.

A high pitched whine escapes you, keening from the counter.

“Oh… right there, My King,” You pant, your voice low and desperate. “Fuck- I love you so fucking much-“ Your breath hitches, squeezing tightly around his fingers as your orgasm builds beneath the surface incredibly fast. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna- fuck! Yeosang! My King!”

Your orgasm crashes through you so intensely, your body lifts from the counter. You can feel yourself gushing onto his hand, his lips gently suckling your clit between them as you squirt all over his face.

Instantly, your thighs squeeze shut, trapping his head against your cunt as your whole body trembles violently from the intensity of your orgasm. Nothing but pure pleasure floods your veins, choking on your whines as you attempt to catch your breath.

You can feel your release dripping down the skin of your ass, his fingers still working inside of you as you whither beneath him. Though his pace has slowed, his touch much softer than before, each brush of his tongue over your clit and his fingers inside of you has you twitching, gentle whimpers being breathed from your mouth.

Pleased growls echo through the air, his chest shaking with every exhale. The whites of his eyes have all gone black, pure amber burning within the darkness. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the veins on his face this black, or this widespread, but the ravenous look he wears only serves to turn you on even further.

The look should scare you, but instead, it sends a thrill rushing through your body.

Slowly, he removes his fingers from your cunt, sucking every last drop of your release from his skin. His tongue comes out to wet his lips, leaning in to slowly lave that warm muscle over your cunt, making sure to collect every bit of your essence that covers your skin.

“Mmmh, Yeosangie,” You clench lightly as he gently circles the tip of his tongue over your clit. “So good to me… making me feel incredible.”

Your chest rises and falls steadily, soft pants escaping your parted lips. Your head still spins from the intensity of your previous releases, whimpering lightly as he gently continues to clean you with his tongue.

“I’ve only just begun, My Dear,” His low voice rumbles out, nipping lightly at the skin of your thigh.

Slowly, Yeosang pushes himself back onto his feet, trailing kisses all the way up your body. His hands push the material of the shirt you wear upwards, exposing your skin inch by inch as he licks his way up your stomach before burying his face between your breasts.

A pleased sigh is breathed onto your skin, nuzzling himself against your chest happily.

“Sangie…” You sigh his name so tenderly, hands coming up to cradle him to you. “Need to feel you inside me.”

A tender kiss is placed atop of the bite mark over your heart that he gave you last night, contrasting the intensity of his previous actions.

“As you wish, My Beautiful Queen,” The words are but a whisper on his lips, his nose tracing over the swell of your breast.

In the blink of an eye, Yeosang wraps his arms around you. With ease, he lifts you from the counter, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist. You can feel his hard cock pressing directly against your core, unsure if the wet patch soaking the thin material he still wears is from you or from him.

Your arms are wrapped tightly around his shoulders, placing tender kisses to his cheek. Trailing your lips downwards, you nibble lightly at his neck, pressing your teeth firmly into his skin. The way he shudders beneath your touch makes you smile.

Yeosang’s pace is slow, taking his time to walk with you held in his arms. Only, when you notice him turn down the hallway towards the bedroom, you’re stopping him.

You shake your head as he pauses in his steps.

“Couch.” Gently, your fingers play with the strands of hair at the back of his head. “Wanna ride you, Sangie. Wanna bounce on your pretty cock and make you mine.”

A guttural groan escapes him, his eyes flashing as his grip tightens over you.

“I’m all yours, My Queen,” Yeosang growls out, spinning around and marching towards the living room with a newfound purpose. “Fuck- you’re gonna look so pretty leaking over my cock, Dearest. Can’t wait to watch your tits bounce as you claim me as your own.”

You hum, lips pulling upwards in a pleased smile. Your lashes flutter lightly, feeling your core aching to be filled with his cock once more.

The bright light of the sun shines brightly through the large windows, illuminating the luxurious living room perfectly. From you high vantage point within the apartment, you can practically see across the whole city, warmth flooding through your body as Yeosang carefully sits himself on the sofa with you in his lap. Your thighs rest on either side of him, gently settling your core directly over his clothed cock.

Your lips are immediately back on his own, cupping his face in your hands and pouring all of your emotions into the way your mouth moves over his. You can feel his fingers slip beneath your shirt, tracing up your spine and holding you close.

Slowly, you begin to grind your hips over his own.

A guttural groan escapes him, his brow furrowing as his eyes flutter shut.

“Keep doing that and I won’t last much longer, Dearest,” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, blinking his eyes open to stare up at you hungrily.

You can’t help but giggle, smiling down at him as you lean in to place a quick peck to his lips. Lifting you hips, you reach between your bodies, slowly dragging your touch down his torso and over his stomach. Your fingers toy with the waistband of his underwear, snapping it playfully against his skin and loving the way he growls lowly in response.

“You want to see me fall apart before I bury my fat cock inside your sweet little pussy, don’t you, My Dear?”

“Guilty,” You giggle, placing your palm over his bulge and squeezing.

Yeosang keens beneath your touch, chest beginning to rise and fall dramatically as he stares up at you with dark eyes. His lips are parted, hands sliding over your ass and squeezing at your flesh appreciatively.

“Mmmh,” A soft hum escapes you, your lashes fluttering. “Still fucking adore the feeling of your hands on me, Sangie.”

“Good.” He gives your ass another firm squeeze, pulling you flush against him. “Because I never plan on letting you go.”

A choked moan escapes your lips, hips jerking against his own. Heat blooms over your cheeks, feeling yourself clench hard around nothing from his words.

“Don’t ever let me go, My King,” You breathe, reaching down to tug the offending material still clinging to his skin off of him.

Yeosang takes the hint, practically shredding his underwear as he rips them from his skin. A growl rumbles out from his chest at your words, his eyes bleeding that familiar amber.

“Never.” His lips curl over his fangs, an almost predatory look to his features. “I’m never letting you leave me now. You’re mine, My Dear. All mine.”

Your back arches as you keen into his touch, his words going straight to your core. You can feel your walls beginning to clench rhythmically around nothing, your breathing deepening as the need to feel him buried inside of you again becomes overwhelming.

Reaching between your bodies, you wrap your hand around his cock, feeling the way it pulses at your touch. You pump over him a few times, swiping your thumb over his tip and spreading the precome over his head. The deep groan you elicit from his throat is music to your ears.

You line him up with your entrance, Yeosang’s hands holding you steady while placed on your hips. His fingers dig into your plush flesh, veins crackling out over his cheeks as you teasingly drag the tip of his cock through your wet folds. You can practically feel the way you’re dripping onto his cock, a whine escaping your throat as you bump the tip over your clit a few times.

Finally, you press the head of his cock against your folds, slowly beginning to sink down onto him. Each inch that sinks into you, you make sure to squeeze around, your lips parted as you feel him filling you, as if he were made just for you.

“Never gonna leave you, My King,” You tilt your head forward slightly, resting your forehead against his own. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance, nails digging harshly into his skin as you fully sink down on his cock. “I’m yours. Now, and for all eternity.”

“My Queen,” His lips curl over his fangs in a snarl, fingers digging even firmer into the skin of your hips. “My Glorious, Wonderful, Beautiful Queen.”

You clench around him, whimpering softly as you begin to shift your hips against his own.

You start slow, simply testing the waters as you roll your hips against his. You hold his gaze the entire time, his eyes shining that brilliant amber as his hot breath hits your lips with every exhale he breathes. His hands help to guide each of your movements, low growls shaking his chest as his thighs tense beneath you.

“Never gonna let you go, either, Sangie,” You whisper, the words a mere rasp on your lips. “There’s no escaping me now. You’re mine.My King. Mine, and mine alone.”

“All yours, My Glorious Queen,” His answer is immediate, voice gravelly and downright predatory. “If you ever try to run from me, I’ll hunt you to the very ends of the earth to make you feel my love- my devotion to you. You’re My. Fucking. Goddess.” He emphasizes his words with a few sharp thrusts up into you, eliciting sharp whines from your throat. “And I’m Your. Fucking. King.”

Your lips fall open with a gasp, eyes rolling slightly as he repeats the same movements as before. The emphasis he puts on each growled word goes straight to your core, clenching hard around him as you sit up to your full height.

Harsh pants fall from your lips as you begin to bounce lightly on his cock. The tip is angled just right, brushing against that sensitive spot deep inside of you every time he sinks into your core. You feel so full with his cock buried deep within your warmth, your hands gripping onto his shoulders tightly for balance as he kneads the flesh of your ass desperately.

“Fuck- Look at you,” Yeosang’s voice rumbles out, deep and gravelly. He tilts his head back slightly to rest on the back of the couch, admiring you above him. “What a glorious vision you are, My Queen-“ A shaky moan cuts his words short, lashes fluttering as you clench around him. “I could watch you bounce on my cock all fucking day. Oh-“ 

He bites his bottom lip, managing to puncture the skin with his fang.

You strike, not wanting to miss this golden opportunity.

Your lips crash onto his own, tongue desperately tracing over that small wound. You hum against his mouth, suckling eagerly as his blood drips onto your tongue. It tastes much sweeter than expected, but then again, that could just be due to the guttural moan that Yeosang lets out as he keens beneath you.

“You’re gonna make me- hah- come, My Queen,” Yeosang’s voice is strained, his jaw tensing as a vein in his neck pops out.

You pick up your pace, ignoring the burning in your thighs and slight ache in your lower back as you work yourself over his cock. You can feel that familiar pressure inside of yourself close to snapping, leaning in to him once more to begin kissing and nipping at his neck.

“Claim me, Yeosang,” Your voice is but a desperate plea upon your lips, nibbling at his pulse as you squeeze around his throbbing cock. “Claim me as I claim you.”

Your lips part, burying your face into the side of his neck as you bite down harshly on his skin. There’s a small part of you that worries about hurting him, but the fact that he’s an original vampire negates that concern almost instantly.

The moment you feel something sweet and warm flood your tongue, your eyes are rolling into the back of your head.

“Fuck! My King! Yeosang! Oh- Yeosang! Fuck- I love you, I love you- Yeosang!”

You keen above him, pressing yourself flush against his hips as your whole body shakes. Your orgasm crashes unrelentingly through you, your vision going white as you let out a high, wailing moan. Your back arches, thighs trembling as you squeeze around his cock, feeling warmth flooding through every part of your body.

There’s this ringing in your ears that drowns out all other noise for the moment, your chest heaving with every breath. You dart your tongue out over your lips, something wet and warm clinging to your skin.

You swallow, an unfamiliar sweetness flooding your senses as you continue to pant.

Your arms can barely hold yourself up, his hands supporting you more than your own body in this moment. You can feel his warm come spilling out of your cunt, your combined releases dripping onto the skin of his balls as a few final spurts escape his softening cock.

You hum in pleasure, the world slowly coming back into focus. Sounds begin surrounding you once more, and that’s when you finally hear the heavy, feral snarls emitting from the man beneath you.

Blinking a few times, you manage to clear your vision. Shifting your gaze to Yeosang beneath you, your breath catches in your throat.

A rush of excitement zings through your body at the intensity of his stare. Yeosang looks every bit of the fearsome predator his kind is known to be, sharp teeth, glowing eyes, and animalistic snarls.

Red drips slowly in a singular path down his chest, blood slowly spilling from a bite mark on the side of his neck.

You flick your tongue out against your lips as realization washes over you.

You clench hard around his cock still buried deep inside of your warmth.

In the blink of an eye, you find myself pinned against the wall. Yeosang’s fingers dig unforgivingly into the plush skin of your thighs, his chest pressing right up against your own. You can feel each growl he emits rumble from deep within his chest, his blood slowly dripping onto the material of your shirt.

Suddenly, the shirt gets torn from your body, his hand moving too quick for your eyes to see.

Yeosang presses in closer, his blood now dripping onto the skin of your breast. A pleased growl shakes his chest, rolling his hips lightly into your own.

“You’re not going anywhere, My Queen,” His voice is the deepest you’ve ever heard it go, tone bordering on an animalistic snarl. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

A sharp thrust is given into you, causing you to gasp. You can feel his cock swelling inside of your cunt, becoming hard in a matter of seconds as he rolls his hips against your own once more.

“Thought you could bite me and leave it at that, hmm?” Yeosang noses at your neck, tracing lightly over your pulse. “That you could claim me and expect me not to reciprocate?”

A soft whimper escapes you as you feel him grind his hips into yours, the tip of his cock rubbing against that tender spot deep inside of you.

“I’m yours, My Dearest Queen,” Fangs scrape along your skin, causing your breathing to deepen. Your heart flutters in excitement, digging your nails into his back and holding him close. “I’ve been yours since the very creation of the universe, just as you’ve been mine. You belong to me. Me! You’re fucking mine, My Dear. I’m never going to let you go now. You’re My Fated. My Dearest Queen. My Glorious Songbird.”

Each loving term he calls you is emphasized by a sharp thrust into you. The wet squelch of his cock sinking into your cunt makes your head spin, pleasure radiating outwards throughout your body starting from your core. You can practically feel the way your walls pulse around him in time with your heartbeat, nothing but soft whimpers and whines escaping your lips.

A brief pause is given after his last thrust in order for him to pull away from your neck. He wastes no time resting his forehead against your own, a dangerously possessive look shining within his bright amber eyes. Despite the intensity, there is no mistaking the unrelenting and unconditional love that pulses within.

“My Beautiful Goddess,” Yeosang pulls out of you slowly, only the very tip of his cock left inside before snapping his hips sharply back into yours. “I’m Yours. Now, until the very end of time.”

A choked cry escapes you, your whole body shaking as you drip onto his cock. You squeeze around him tightly, head falling forward as he repeats the same movements over, and over, and over again.

A feral snarl builds in his throat, eyes glinting as he glances between you. You’re just able to make out the way he admires how his cock sinks into you, glistening lightly beneath the sun while covered in both of your combined releases.

“Fucking Beautiful,” Another sharp thrust is given, Yeosang pressing his chest flush against your own once more. “You’re perfection, My Dear��� and you’re all mine.”

“Yours.” You moan, tilting your head back to rest against the wall.

“Mmmh, that’s right, Dearest,” Tender kisses are placed upon the skin of your exposed throat. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” You whine, his thrusts beginning to increase in pace, but only slightly.

“Again.”

“Yeosang-“

A sharp nip is given to your jawline, a warning growl rumbling from deep within his chest.

“Say. It. Again.”

“I’m yours-“

Your breath hitches as he thrusts a little harder into you, causing you to clench even harder around him as he buries himself within your tight warmth.

“Mmmh, that’s right, My Dear,” He nuzzles his face against the side of your neck affectionately. “Now, tell me how beautiful you are.”

“Yeosang-“

“Say it.” His voice is firm as he pulls away to stare deeply into your eyes. Lips curl over sharp fangs, his golden gaze dark and dangerous. “I want to hear you say how fucking beautiful you are.”

“Sangie-“ You choke on a gasp.

“Tell me!” His voice booms out, a snarl painting his lips as you feel the whole apartment shake around you. You can feel your cheeks flaring with heat as you clench hard around him in response. “Tell me how fucking beautiful you are right this fucking second, Beloved. I want to hear you say it.”

“I- I-“ Your mouth parts, moans falling from your lips as he snaps his hips into your own, beginning to pick up the pace once more. “I’m beautiful…”

Yeosang hums, grinding his hips lovingly into yours after a particularly sharp thrust.

“Again.”

You hesitate for only a moment. “…I’m beautiful.”

“Yes…” A pleased hiss escapes him, beginning to snap his hips into you at a steady pace. “Say it again.”

“I’m beautiful!”

“Yes, you fucking are, My Gorgeous Queen,” He growls, the wet slapping of skin on skin making your head spin. “Tell me again.”

A desperate, choked moan escapes you. You’re barely able to keep your eyes open as you claw relentlessly at his back.

“I’m- oh, fuck!” You hiss, your eyes rolling at a particularly sharp thrust. “Beautiful!”

“Yes… That’s it, Beloved,” Yeosang rasps, pressing you even firmer against the wall. His one hand slips from your thigh to your stomach, dancing his fingers over your skin before sliding his touch downwards and towards your aching cunt. His thumb finds your clit, flicking over that sensitive nub before rubbing in firm circles. “And who do you belong to?”

“You!” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overstimulation making your entire body shake in ecstasy. “I belong to you!”

“Mmmh, that’s right, Beloved… You’re mine. All mine.” Yeosang hums, burying his face into the side of your neck as that familiar pressure begins building rapidly inside of you. “Tell me, My Songbird. My Beloved… My Beautiful Queen…” Yeosang laves his tongue over your pulse, the scrape of his fangs teasing at your ear. “Who are you?”

Without hesitation, you answer him.

“I’m Your Beautiful Queen!”

The moment those words escape your lips, you feel a sharp pain erupt on the side of your neck. It hurts for only the briefest of seconds before pure, unimaginable pleasure floods your very being. Your whole body begins trembling violently as you feel Yeosang bury himself deep within your cunt, the whole world going still as everything swells around you.

Then, everything comes crashing into you all at once.

A scream tears from your throat, crying out his name as you shake uncontrollably in his hold. Your orgasm bursts through your very soul, feeling the way you squirt over his cock what feels like multiple times, your release gushing out of you practically splattering against the floor. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, vision going white as your lips remain parted in a silent scream. Ragged breaths cause your chest to heave, stuttering out desperate moans and high pitched whines as you cling to Yeosang for dear life. You can feel the way he shudders against you, thrusting shallowly into you a few more times as he pumps you full of his come.

Deep, pleased snarls fill the air around you, both of his hands gripping your ass as he presses you into the wall. His chest sticks to your own, rising and falling in time with your breaths as your heart races beneath your ribcage. You can feel his tongue laving over your new bite mark, tracing lovingly over his fresh claim as his chest rumbles with nothing but pure pleasure.

For quite a few minutes, Yeosang holds you there against the wall. His cock remains buried deep inside of you, the both of you catching your breaths and revelling in your highs together. You can feel him beginning to place gentle kisses against the skin of your neck, tracing his lips over your jaw until he reaches your own.

A soft, pleasant hum is breathed onto your lips as you whimper against his. Your one hand comes up to tangle in his hair, the other splayed over his back and holding him close.

Pulling away, Yeosang nuzzles his nose tenderly against your own.

“I love you, My Glorious Queen,” His words are but a whisper upon his lips, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours gently. Yeosang stares deeply into your eyes, nothing but love and affection, along with a tremendous amount of pride, swirling within. “Always, and forever.”

“Always, and forever,” You breathe out, your lashes fluttering lightly as you completely melt into his hold. “My Yeosang,”

[paxaz535]

Northwood Ends

pazzi (+team) x black!oc (+team)

note: this is my first attempt at writing a fiction topic with non fiction people so it might not be realistic in some ways! the whole team won’t be in this story, only some of them. I’ll see where this goes and figure out if i want to continue it or not.

————

It was a calm evening at Michigan University. Carmen was in the college gym getting some shots in. She was going to go out with a few teammates later on before their big day. Carmen was excited to play but also annoyed because they were playing UConn. The school Paige Bueckers goes to. They’ve been rivals ever since their freshman year of college. 

Carmen wasn’t sure how it exactly happened, but she knew that the UConn Women’s basketball team and the Michigan University women’s basketball team did not mess with each other.

~

Carmen was at a bar with some teammates, having a nice time. They had a big day tomorrow but wanted to let loose a bit. Carmen turned and noticed the look on Emani’s face. Confused, she asked, “What’s wrong?” Emani continued to look over at the door, “Look who just arrived.” Carmen turned around and saw Paige. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding.” She had the biggest smirk on her face when she and her team spotted Carmen. “Here they come.” Nyla spoke. Carmen groaned and rolled her eyes. 

“Carmen, isn’t it nice to see you?” She had her arms crossed, a slight glare. Carmen noticed Azzi, Nika, Ice, and Kk also glaring. “Yeah, whatever, Bueckers. You and your little team ready to lose?” A slight smirk on her face. “Why would we if we’re the best team out there?” Kk spoke. Mia scoffed, “Persuade me.” Nika scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Have you seen me play? I make 20 assists a game.” Paige smirked at her teammate. 

“Wow, Nika has talent,” Emani spoke sarcastically as she crossed her arms, “Call us when you can actually shoot a ball or two.” Nika took a step, trying to get into the girl’s face, but Kk held her back. “You watch your mouth.” Ice spoke as she nodded towards Emani. Emani put her hands up in surrender, a smirk on her face.

“What? Can’t take a little trash talk? Come on, I thought you guys were tougher than that.” Carmen said as she looked at the five opponents. “Says you, Carmen. Your little feelings get hurt every time I make a three on you.” Azzi exclaimed as she looked the girl up and down.

Carmen chuckled, “I couldn’t give a fuck about a three you make, fudd. We all know what-“ Carmen was cut off by a loud thud that came from the other side of the bar. The rest of the girls followed her look, noticing the bar getting quiet. “The fuck?” Nyla muttered as she watched the scene.

“Hey, are you okay?” A girl asked as she crouched down by the guy lying on the ground. The guy didn’t reply to her after a hot second. “Hellooo, are you g-“ Suddenly, he popped up and looked around, his sight landing on the girl in front of him. “Dude, a-” She got cut off by her scream, the guy grabbed onto her arms and sank his teeth into her neck. “Get him off of me!” The bar erupted in chaos, some backing away, others still standing in shock.

It was safe to say that the ten basketball players all had the same expression on their faces. “I know he did not just bite that girl in her neck?” Kk spoke out of shock. Carmen was confused, her eyes not leaving the sight. “We need to go! Like now.” Emani rushed as she quickly got up. Carmen was still standing there, Nyla had to pull her out of her trance.

After everyone made it outside, Mia took a deep breath. “Okay, what the hell was that?!” Carmen still slightly confused, looked inside the window to now see two people running around trying to bite everyone. It must be contagious.

“Like hell we know!” Nika bit back as she looked at the redhead. Mia rolled her eyes, scoffing in the process. “She’s right. How would we know?” Paige spoke. Carmen looked back at the girls, an alarmed expression on her face. “I think it was something in his drink.”

Everyone turned towards her. “I noticed his glass was empty after he fell.” Paige scoffed, amused at this situation. “Why should we believe you?” Their attention was drawn to glass shattering. A person… or whatever it was came out, looking for something. Their face looked swollen and it didn’t look like a human in the face. The thing spotted a person lying on the ground, yelling for help but it was too late.

It got to the girl and bit her leg, the girl screaming in pain. Carmen looked back at Paige, “Does that make you believe me now?” Paige just rolled her arms, grossed out and upset that Carmen was indeed right.

“This isn’t possible.” Ice spoke out of fright as she looked around. Nyla raised her eyebrows, “It looks pretty possible to me.” she spoke back smartly, Ice groaned and waved her off. “Shut up, Johnson.” Carmen was thinking about where everyone could go and then she finally remembered.

“I know somewhere we can go but it’s a bit of a run.” The girl told everyone. Mia was quick to nod, “We’re all athletes. We can run a few miles. Let’s just get the fuck out of here.” Carmen nodded, immediately starting to go towards the destination when she noticed all five UConn stars standing still. “Hello?”

“You’ve got life fucked if you think we’re following you.” Paige spoke as she stood. Carmen groaned, she was getting sick of the back and forth thing. “Look, cry all you want but I recommend following me. Where I’m going has food, weapons and places to sleep. So unless you wanna die out here like a little bitch, I suggest you toughen up and follow me.” Carmen finalized and turned back around. Paige groaned, looking at her teammates before unfortunately following the Michigan team.

-

It had been at least 10 minutes, and the girls were now walking. They stopped running like 8 minutes ago. “Holy fuck. Where is this place you so-called claim to have?” Nika complained as she continued to follow. Carmen looked at the girl before shaking her head. “Stop complaining. We’re almost there.” Carmen noticed the familiar sidewalk that led up to the destination and smiled. She always spent her summers here.

After a few more steps, Carmen stopped right in front of the safe house. “Holy shit.” Emani cursed as she noticed the house. “What is this, some kind of safe house?” Paige asked as she crossed her arms. Carmen just nodded, walking towards the entrance. “This should keep us good for a while. At least until everything cools down.”

The ten young women walked inside, being met with the smell of cinnamon and vanilla. Her grandma always loved the two, so she made sure to keep the house smelling like them all the time. “It smells good.” Carmen just nodded, locking the door behind them. “Okay. We all saw what happened back there.”

Everyone just nodded, still a bit shocked. Azzi then spoke up, knowing that the none of them knew what was going on at this moment. “Let’s turn on the news. Keep us updated.” Carmen nodded, going into the couch arm rest to get the remote. Everyone piled up in the living room, UConn on one side, Michigan on the other. You’d think everyone hated each other guts and it was some type of war going on, which technically, they do hate each other guts but still.

Carmen turned to the news. A lady stood out in front the bar they just recently ran from, looking a bit too close due to the fact that’s where everything transpired.

“It appears that the outbreak has occurred right here at the Vile Bar right on Northwood street in Michigan. One moment, a male supposedly collapsed out of no where and the next, a woman has gotten bitten.”

Carmen continued to watch, knowing that they were all there when it happened. Then, the tv had cut to the news reporters that sit down in the studio.

h

The 20 pairs of eyes never left the screen, invested in what was being said. This was obviously a very serious matter and it was only going to get worse.

“Never in a million years would we have thought this would happen. you’ve probably seen it in video games or movies but this is real life. We suggest you stay inside and stay safe, make sure to tell your loved ones you love them and hope for the best. Goodluck.” Carmen turned the tv off, not quite satisfied with what was told, she expected more information. not some fuck ass ‘goodluck.’

“Goodluck? The fuck is a ‘goodluck’ gonna do for us?” Ice spoke as she looked at everyone. “Don’t know. but we’re safe so there’s nothing to worry about.” Carmen spoke as she stood, walking to the kitchen. Paige, still confused on certain things, began to question the girl.

“How is this gonna work? I mean, say we do run out of things. It’s ten of us!” Carmen opened her pantry to see it luckily stocked and filled with food and treats. She checked every place that could possibly have food and was met with satisfaction. “Don’t worry about food. We’ve got plenty.”

“Okay, fantastic but what about everything else? Electricity? The weapons? Where are we all gonna sleep?” Ice asked as she stood. Carmen turned around to be met with all eyes on her. She just sighed, “There’s 2 bedrooms up here and a basement. If you want to include the living room as a spot to sleep then so be it. I told you guys we’re gonna be fine.”

“I think we should stay in the basement. Safest place in the house.” Mia said as she looked at everyone. Nika scoffed, “are you dumb? why would we go to the basement?” Mia snapped her head towards the brunette. “Why wouldn’t we, Nika?” Mia then stood up, not liking the way the girl was talking to her.

“What? and let something break in while we’re all down there? you gonna come up and kill it?” Nika sassed as she crossed her arms. Mia glared at the girl, “If I have to then yea. We all know you’re not capable of doing it.” Nika mugged her. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” She took a step closer to Mia, making them face to face.

Mia scoffed, “Exactly what I said. You’re a pussy.” Nika shoved the girl, making her stumble into Emani. Mia held her arms up in surrender, a smirk on her face. “Cut it out!” Carmen yelled from the kitchen, making everyone turn to her. “Whatever we have between us has to be put to the side. There’s people out there dying and running around trying to bite people in their fucking necks!”

Nika huffed, looking at Mia before looking back at Carmen. “I understand we all hate each other but us going back and forth like this ain’t doing anyone any favors.” Paige sighed, looking at everyone. “Shes right. As much as we all hate each other, we gotta grow up. Especially if we’re all gonna be with each for who knows how long.”

Carmen gave the blonde a look of gratitude, appreciative of the fact that the girl was able to compromise. It was quiet for a moment before a soft voice spoke. “What if some people stay up here and the rest downstairs?” Everyone looked at Emma.

“Are you guys sure you wanna be separated?” Emani asked as she laid on Nyla. “I mean… it’s not the smartest move but if everyone is comfortable, then why not?” Emma reasoned as she stood next to Carmen. The braided hair girl nodded, not opposed to the idea.

“Aright, it’s settled. Me and my girls will stay downstairs, Paige, you and your team can stay up here.” Carmen spoke. Paige put her hand up, “hold up. what if we wanted to stay downstairs?” Carmen looked at the blonde. “Nika just had a whole tantrum about not wanting to go downstairs. I think that says enough.”

Nika flipped the girl off, rolling her eyes and flopping on the couch. Emma and Emani were the first ones to go down there, turning on the light to see a cozy basement. It had a couch, a tv and a bathroom. it was almost like an extra bedroom.

“is anyone hungry? thirsty?” Carmen asked as she walked into the kitchen. “I’ll take a water.” Azzi said as she sat next to ice on the couch. “yea me too.” Carmen just grabbed 7 water bottles and set them on the counter. “Where’s your bathroom?” Kk asked Carmen.

Carmen nodded towards the hallway, “Two doors down to your right.” Kk nodded and turned the hallway light on since it was dark. She found the bathroom and went inside. “Never did I once think I would be staying with the opps.” Nika spoke as she stared into space. “you know, we’re not the worst people in the world.” Mia stated as she looked at the brunette.

Nika sighed and looked over at the girl. “You’re gonna have to prove that, sweetheart.” Mia just shrugged, the nickname not bothering her. Azzi went next to paige and sat down. She leaned her head against the blonde and wrapped her hands around her arm. Paige let her, pulling the curly head closer. Carmen watched the whole interaction, only looking away when the two noticed her eyes on them.

Paige and Azzi looked at each other before looking back at Carmen. Carmen looked at everything but them, not wanting to make things awkward. She then remembered about the weapons in the back office. She shot up off the counter, looking for the keys in the drawers.

Kk came out the bathroom, going right next to Ice. “What are you looking for?” Nyla asked as she played with her hair. Carmen didn’t answer right away, focusing on the task ahead of her. “Keys.” She simply replied. “For what?” Mia pressed.

Carmen found the keys in the drawer under the dish rack and looked at the girls in front of her. “Weapons.” She closed the drawer and walked towards the back. “Oh, fuck yea.” Nyla commented as she stood. Carmen heard pairs of footsteps behind her, not bothering to tell them to stay where they are.

She unlocked the office and turned the light on. It looked like a regular working office but there was a door right behind the working desk. Carmen nodded, walking towards it and unlocking that door as well. When she opened it, two large boxes were inside. she pulled one out, opening it and looking inside. Everyone else looked inside too, looking at all the weapons inside the box.

“How does one acquire so many weapons?” Carmen just shook her head, “My grandparents are lowkey crazy..” She hopes they’re doing okay, she noted to contact her family. “This should be enough for everyone. Nyla, can you go get Emma and Emani?” Carmen asked as she grabbed the desk chair and pulled it up to the box. She sat down on the chair, and looked at everyone. Just analyzing.

“Wait, are we all getting assigned our own weapons?” Nika asked, she was excited but didn’t show it. Carmen nodded, still looking at everyone. “Yall are responsible for these things, alright? please only use them when necessary.” The three girls came back into the room, now joining the circle the girls has created. “Can I get a gun?”

Carmen looked at Nyla, a laugh escaping her lips. “Hell no.” Nyla just scoffed and shook her head. The girl was known for being clumsy, so Carmen would be stupid to give her a gun.

-

“Has anyone got a hold of the rest of the team?” Paige asked as she looked at her phone. She was met with disagreements around the room, her heart dropping. “My phone literally just died.” Ice spoke as she leaned against the couch. Azzi looked at paige, “I texted but no one has responded.” Paige just nodded, turning her phone off to not stress herself even more.

Carmen came upstairs because Emani wanted some chips, and since the girl loved her so much, she decided to get them for her. “Yall good?” Carmen asked as she noticed everyone was slightly off. Paige nodded, “Hey, you got in touch with any of your people?”

Carmen looked at her, “Only my grandparents. i haven’t heard from my teammates though.” Paige nodded, “us either.” Carmen noticed how close her and azzi were but ignored it. She then noticed how everyone looked slightly uncomfortable. She looked down at her clothes and realized why.

“Tell you what. Tomorrow’ll be a new day. There’s a mall right up the street from here, we can all go get some clothes. I know you guys are uncomfortable.” Paige just nodded, a small smile on her face. “Yea, that’ll be nice.” Carmen nodded, grabbing the chips before turning off the light.

“Goodnight, uconn.” She teased. Paige chuckled, “night, michigan.” Carmen just grinned and closed the door, going back to her team. When she got down there, she saw Emma and Nyla sleep. “What were yall talking about?” Mia asked as Carmen got back onto the couch. Carmen told them what happened and went to bed, they all had a day to look forward to tomorrow.

-

Carmen didn’t feel right. She felt off, like something had changed. Was it always this cold? She got up and immediately grabbed her pocket knife, looking around the basement. Everyone was still asleep, it was 5 in the morning to be fair.

She didn’t notice anything different so she made her way upstairs, slowly walking towards the door. She opened it, the place was quiet. She looked over to see Ice and Kk on the couch. Immediately her mind went to Paige and Azzi.

She walked towards the first bedroom, taking a peak inside. Nika was spread across the bed, the cover hanging off of her. Carmen just closed the door back up, letting the girl be. She then made her way towards the second bedroom, listening in for any movement.

She didn’t hear anything and opened the door quietly. The first thing she noticed was the window. It was wide open, making her sigh in annoyance but also in relief. She walked towards the window, not even thinking to look at the bed until she turned back around and noticed the two bodies fully up, looking at her.

She jumped, her pocket knife dropping out her hand. “Sorry.” Azzi apologized as she watched Carmen pick her knife back up. “No, you’re fine,” Carmen sighed. “It felt like something was off so I came up here to check.” She explained.

“It got hot.” Paige spoke. Carmen looked up and noticed this wasn’t the room with a ceiling fan, making her sigh in realization. “There’s a fan in the office, do you want it? I just don’t feel safe with windows open.” Carmen offered as she put her knife back in her pocket.

“Yeah, we’ll take it.” Azzi softly spoke as she pulled the cover over her more. Carmen just nodded before leaving the room and quickly coming back with the fan. She set it up for them and sighed, “There you go.” Carmen walked towards the door but stopped when Paige called out. “Thank you, carmen.” The girl looked at the couple, her stomach flipping as she just nodded.

“Don’t mention it.” Carmen closed the door before letting out a breath. She shook her head before walking back towards the basement. It was still early so she might as well go back to sleep.

“that was strange, no?” Azzi asked as she looked at the blonde. Paige just shrugged, not thinking much of it. “Let’s get some sleep.” Azzi nodded, kissing the blonde on her cheek before lying down completely. Paige followed her movements, getting comfortable in the blankets.

-

“Ugh, where the bacon at?” Nyla asked as she, Emani and Mia stood in the kitchen. They hadn’t mean to be loud, but they woke up Nika and that girl is grumpy when she gets waken up. Nika came out, her hair a bit frizzy but she didn’t care. “Can yall be any louder?” Mia’s head moved at the girls deep voice, a bit taken aback that she sounded like that. Nyla face went blank, “my bad, muhl.” Nika just rolled her eyes before stepping more into the kitchen.

“What are yall even making?” She asked as she scratched her head. Emani turned around, a spatula in her hand. “Breakfast! you like pancakes, right?” Nika just nodded, then looked at Mia who hadn’t looked away from the brunette. Her defensive instincts came, getting a bit self conscious. “You need something?” Mia shook her head, a small grin on her face as she just looked away. Nika’s eyes kept on the girl before she heard a groan come from behind her.

“I smell food.” Kk’s voice could be heard, making Nika mood lift a bit. She sat next to the brunette and hugged her, Nika leaning more into it. “Is anyone else awake?” Mia shook her head, sighing in the process. “Nope. They need to get up, though. Didn’t Carmen say something about a mall?”

Emani nodded her head, finishing the final pancake and sat it on a plate. “Well, breakfast is ready. Go crazy.” She spoke softly as she grabbed dirty dishes and placed them in the sink. Kk was the first in line, grabbing a plate and placing food on it. “Don’t over do it, Kamorea.” Nika spoke as she grabbed a plate as well. Kk just rolled her eyes, waving the girl off. Emani heard footsteps coming up the stairs so she just opened the basements door.

Carmen could be shown walking out, a tired look on her face. She noticed the breakfast on the table, a small smile on her face. “You guys are so nice.” Emani just chuckled, cleaning up any messes she made before grabbing a plate herself. Carmen noticed Paige and Azzi wasn’t there with everyone, not that she cared..

“ICE!” The girl flinched, Kk’s loud voice waking her up. Kk just laughed, taking a bite of her pancake. “Bro, you always doing dumb shit.” Ice muttered as she hid her face from the light. “Can you go wake up paige and azzi?” Nyla asked Carmen. The girl looked at her like she was crazy.

“Why I gotta go do it?” Nyla pointed at everyone. “We all eating, you not.” Carmen just smacked her lips, shaking her head before walking towards the bedroom. She knocked twice before she heard Paige’s voice. “Come in.”

She opened the door softly to see the two looking at her. “Hey, there’s breakfast.” She stated simply, taking note on how the two look like they just woke up. Paige nodded, “Okay. we’ll be out.” Carmen just gave a tight lipped smile before backing up. She didn’t know why things felt a little different between them and her, it was almost like they were speaking about something without actually talking.

“So what’s the word about this mall or whatever?” Nika asked as she took one last bite of her eggs and washed her plate. Carmen finally got her food, sitting down at the dining table. “It’s right up the street.” Paige and Azzi came out while carmen was talking mid sentence, going straight to the kitchen.

“All we can do is pray that there aren’t any of those infected people inside.” Carmen finished as she looked at her food. “I don’t think it’s gonna be empty. Especially since things are so fresh.” Azzi spoke as she ate a pancake. Carmen nodded, a small smirk on her face, “which is why we have our protection.” Azzi nodded, going back to her food.

Carmen looked at everyone as she just thought. About how unfortunate things had went in not even 24 hours, about how at one point they would run out of food, about how in some way she felt responsible for these girls. They’re in a crisis and things don’t always go how you want them. “Is Emma not up yet?” Mia asked as she noticed the girls absence.

Carmen set her plate on the counter, going straight for the basement. “After I get her up, we can head out.” carmen went downstairs and noticed Emma lying there, but she was awake. “Em, you okay?” Emma hummed back, her eyes still on the ceiling. Her body was limp, the blanket still covering her bottom half. Carmen knew something was wrong, “talk to me.” Emma sighed softly, her fingers slightly playing with the strings of a pillow. The question she asked shocked Carmen, it was so abrupt and random. She almost didn’t know what to say.

“What if one of us dies today?”

Carmen heart dropped, the question taking her aback. “I won’t let that happen, Emma.” The girl looked at Carmen. “Anything can happen, carmie.” And she’s right. Anything can happen and that’s what terrified her. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Emma smiled softly. She looked back at the ceiling, grateful of Carmen words but she had a feeling in her brain.

“I just want you to know,” Emma started as she put her hand on top of Carmen’s. “If anything does happen, please don’t blame yourself.” Carmen looked at the girl, waiting for her to continue. “I know how bad that can get and I don’t want you to get that bad.” Carmen swallowed, her throat going dry.

Emma was always the one Carmen went to first, when it came to anything. Emma always knew what to say and always kept it real with her. She felt the most connected with her and the girl truly had nothing bad to say about her. “Promise me, carmie.” Carmen looked at the girl, gaining her voice back. “I promise, Em.” For her, she’ll try.

my goal is to keep this under 5 parts, no more than 7.

yes, people will be getting killed off (including some of the girls) so be prepared for that

again, this is my first time writing something like this so hopefully it turns out good

byee

[lo1k-diamonds]

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart. 

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

[fallingforfelix]

❛❛midas touch❞

큐피드의 화살은 눈이 멀 수도 있지만 항상 마음 속에 그 표시를 찾아냅니다.

cupid's arrow may be blind, but it always finds its mark in the heart.

.° ༘🎀⋆🩰₊˚ෆ

synopsis: kinktober day #1 — hair pulling (trichophilia)

pairing: roomate!felix x fem!reader

content: 18+/explicit (MDNI tyvm), viewer discretion advised, so highly suggestive it’s probably considered smut, college au, second person view, older fem reader, mature and unestablished relationships

warnings: noona kink, colour word system used, profanities and suggestive language, teasing, bruising and consensual pain, bdsm power play and loss of control, mentions of orgasms, age gap, coercion, whiny kink, dom reader and sub lix, hair tugging, begging kink if you squint, mentions of oral sex, pain kink i guess, dry humping, begging, pet names (pretty boy, angel, doll, good boy, love, sweetheart), hickeys

word count: 2.3K (2392)

note: i wanted to commit to the ‘kinktober’ trend, but…four days in and not looking very strong😓😓 i also wanted to post something for channie’s bday yesterday but that didn’t happen either :( the smut scene was supposed to be wayyyy longer but i kept on having unsystematic bursts of motivation and really needed to upload some content. i think tmrw i’ll try to write smth, maybe fake texts or a short story where the reader/felix/another member comes to terms with their kink but nothing smutty actually happens. i might even be able to sneak in a fluffy kinks drabble later tonight but that’s probably just a load of big talk. anyways i hope you guys really do enjoy this🫶

inspired by: rosy by @rosylix, slowly to me by @jilixthinker, and pretty please by @naeviskz

song reference: midas touch by kiss of life

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“lee felix!”

you had entered the dorm, only a few minutes prior to felix’s arrival. and much to your dismay, the sight of an empty cookie jar greeted you, its desolate state an affront to your cravings.

the racket of keys stirred your senses, and the squeak of his high tops along the wooden floor announced his arrival. you called out, your tone laced with disappointment.

the aussie‘s head protruded from

the around the corner. “is something wrong noona?”

your gaze narrowed. “you know exactly what’s wrong, lix. i’ve been craving those cookies all day!”

a sheepish look crept across his face. "oh, uh, about those..." he began, scratching the back of his head.

you sighed heavily. “you owe me.”

“yeah, yeah,” felix drawled as he advanced towards the couch on which you were accommodated.

as he walked over to you, his blonde locks caught your eyes. felix’s hair was styled in two braids that were gently woven from the crown of his head, cascading down either side of his head like two delicate rivers of gold. each braid was tightly woven, with subtle wisps framing his face.

he plopped down beside you, his nonchalance testing your patience. a lecture about the sanctity of shared snacks brewed on your lips, but a mischievous spark intervened. your hand darted out, tugging at one of felix’s braids in protest.

you expected defiance, not a high-pitched whine that fled his lips as he tried extracting his braid from your grasp.

you stared at him, your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected vulnerability, and it took him a moment to cognise what he just did. felix’s face flushed pink, his relatively small hand rose to cover his pink, plump lips, and he breathed in shakily.

for a moment, the dynamics shifted, and perhaps it was a hormonal surge, or some other weird psychological phenomenon, but suddenly you found yourself conquered by a newfound self-assurance.

felix’s eyes met yours, a flicker of euphoria in his gaze, ignoring the unspoken tension that had just become palpable to him too.

“well, well, well,” you smirked, your vision tracing the blush that now dusted felix’s cheeks. “that was quite the intriguing sound you just made, pretty boy. mind if i uh…hear it again?”

felix’s dark eyes clouded with guilt as he hesitated, but you tightened your grip on his braid, the motion eliciting another sharp whine from his lips.

“n-noona. please,” he spoke breathily.

“captivating,” you purred, the fingers on your spare hand tracing the contours of felix’s jawline. “i didn’t realise you could make such…arousing noises, love.”

“you’re enjoying this…aren’t you?” he asked, his voice trembling.

you chuckled, otherwise ignoring his question. “you know, i’ve never thought about this before,” you mused as you continued to hold felix’s braid. “but these braids of yours really suit you.”

felix’s breathing was now noticeably shallower, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. he tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat, replaced by another whimper as you wrenched on his braid, this time even harder than the last.

“please,” he managed to say, his voice a hoarse whisper, “i can’t...i need—“

your smirk widened as you heard the desperation in felix’s voice. you could feel the heat and tension radiating off of him, and it was clearly affecting him just as much as it was affecting you.

“hearing you like this…it does something to me,” you whispered, voice low and husky, cradling his braid.

“please,” he asked again, his voice thick with need. “touch me. i n-need to aah feel you. please.”

your heart was racing now, the sound of felix’s voice and the way he was begging for your touch driving you wild. you wanted nothing more than to give him what he was asking for, but there was a part of you that wanted to tease him just a little more.

“i think i’ve discovered a secret of yours, angel,” you murmured, leaning closer to felix. his ears flushed crimson as he attempted to turn away.

slowly, you reached out to his other braid, toying with it between your fingers before giving it a light pull. felix involuntarily let out a soft whimper, his eyes widening in surprise at the sudden intensity.

your lips curled into a sly smile, relishing the effect you had on him. “it seems like i’ve got a little weak spot, don’t i?”

felix’s voice dripped with smug satisfaction. “oh, you definitely do,” his words laced with a thick, raspy undertone, which, despite your dominant position, left your head reeling.

you released one braid, your fingers drifting up to softly cup felix’s chin, guiding his gaze to meet yours. his eyes were now visibly darker, a mix of shock and arousal, as he struggled to regain composure.

“you have no idea how much it excites me to hear you making these sounds,” you whispered, your thumb tracing the lines of his parted lips. “absolutely intoxicating, lixie.”

“feels like you’re shre—shredding my sanity, noona…” felix gasped.

“oh but look at you doll,” you purred, your eyes roaming all over his flushed face. “all red and flustered, it’s adorable.”

“i am not adorable. i’m supposed to be…to be hot mm. you’re supposed to be c-cumming at my blissedth state,” big talk for someone who was still trying to gather his thoughts, felix’s mind a jumble of sensations. and with each passing second, your words and touches were making him more and more unravelled.

“hot? you’re incandescent, felix, burning me up with every whimper. but let's see who breaks first—your control or my restraint,” you replied.

“i don't know how m-much longerrr i can...ah, fuck,” another drag at felix’s braid, securing a lewd groan from him.

“i could get addicted to these little noises you make,” you continue, your fingers now delicately outlining his jawline. “i’d make you whimper and whine and beg for more.”

“y-you’re already making me. you’re, you’re playing dirty…stop gloating mm,” he spoke, trembling.

“dirty? you have no idea how filthy i can be. and i'm just getting started. unless you want me to stop? or do you want me to push you further?” you grinned like a crescent moon, knowing felix’s resolve was crumbling with each passing moment.

“you’re insane... but i think i’m cra-zier for ngh wanting more,” felix slurred.

your breath hot against his ear, you whispered. “just imagine how you sound when i do…this.”

with a single, swift movement, you tugged harshly on both braids, pulling his back to expose his neck. felix let out a guttural moan, his eyes fluttering shut as the sensations coursed through him.

“oh, god…” felix whined, his body arching, yielding to your touch.

you took your chance. holding your breath, you leaned towards felix’s exposed neck, and you latched your lips onto the upper edge of his collarbone. gently at first, although the sudden contact seemed to have already aroused him judging by the way his body jerked at your touch.

a stifled gasp slipped from between felix’s lips as your tongue darted across his skin, making his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily, fighting the urge to make any more sounds.

“aw don’t get all shy now pretty boy. let noona hear those angelical noises,” you teased, detaching yourself from his skin with a slight drag of teeth.

you licked a strip across the sensitive skin of where you just kissed him. felix did not hesitate this time, eluding a low groan which contrasted from his whines.

you began to suck at a new spot on his neck, closer to where his adam’s apple was, his braids still tightly in your grasp. you could feel the way his pulse was thrumming though his veins under your lips. felix’s hands, which had been laying uselessly at his side, jerked up to grip at your waist as an act of steadying himself.

his grip on your waist was hard, his fingers practically digging into your skin as he struggled to keep himself from trembling. felix’s breathing hitched in his throat as you continued to lavish his sensitive spot with attention, your tongue leaving a wet path in its wake. 

your hand progressed upwards, solidifying itself at the base of felix’s hair, holding as tight as ever. he let out sobs in pain and pleasure.

he started to feel light-headed, tipsy, overwhelmed by the feeling of heat rushing through him, spreading lower throughout his body. felix’s usually rational mind was fogged by the sensation of your hand in his hair, and your mouth on his throat.

he was losing control, and he knew that he couldn't take much more of this.

and neither could you.

you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your own desire growing stronger by the second. you couldn’t resist him any longer. the way felix was unraveling under your touch, the sight of him desperate and needy, was too much to handle. you wanted him, you needed him just as badly.

you gave felix a particularly hard suck, pulling his skin in through your teeth. the whine that followed ripped at your core and you almost combusted on the spot. that had to have been the highest moan you had heard from him, from anyone at that. 

you lift your head up, gazing at the boy below you who was losing all coherent thought.

“colour, pretty boy?” you inquired, your lips throbbing from all the sucking.

“green…d-don’t stop. don’t ahh- fucking stop, noona-yah,” he panted, words illiterate.

your spare hand came up to rest upon felix’s right shoulder, rubbing smooth, consoling circles around the area.

you swooped your head again, your warm breath dancing across the skin of his neck for mere seconds before you latched yourself onto his neck, now directly on top of his adams’s apple.

“ooh…ooh f-fuck noona! ye-yes! mm, harder…” the noises he was making were blood curdling, toe curling even.

you swear you just cummed. you gushed with slick, your own body quivering now. the temptation to let go of felix and please yourself seemed like a losing battle.

instead, you relaxed your full weight upon felix’s lap, rocking your hips onto his erection, and oh boy, he was rock hard.

he exhaled another huff, followed by a string of curses and other incoherent words. you lost suction of the hickey you were forming, smiling lowly into his skin. as if it wasn’t already obvious that you had him right where you wanted him, and still pushing him over the edge.

you attacked his adam’s apple for the second time, opening your mouth wider to tease a larger area of his skin. his hips subconsciously bucked upwards into you, earning a sigh on your end. your warm breath on the newly-formed hickey sent felix into complete overdrive.

his hands slipped past the upper edge of your sweatpants, expertly finding the waistband of your panties, pulling the lace into view and rising it up level to your hip line. you winced in pain as felix began fingering your lingerie, occasionally bumping the side of your hip, where he had left bruises from his tight grip earlier on.

the hand that was on felix’s shoulder jerked up to his braids once more. you ran your fingers through the plaits, unravelling them like you unravelled their owner, leaving waves in his milky blonde tousles.

you kissed the spot where you were marking your possession, moving your placement to the underside of his defined jaw, teeth gnashing at his freckled skin. his laboured breathing echoed through the room, a symphony of surrender.

“s’good…oh you’re so g-good noona. what have i…been m-missing out onn?” felix spluttered.

you just yanked his hair in response, his braids now completely unthreaded. every word and every sound he expressed ignited your nerves, set your heart alight. your oxygen was depleting steadily, but you weren’t going to stop and take a breathe. you were going to suck felix’s skin to the death and die a happy woman.

but as that thought was revolving around your brain like an eagle circling it’s prey, felix came to an abrupt halt, releasing your lingerie and letting it hit your skin like rubber ricochetting. he mustered the strength to grip your shoulders, before gently prising you off him. a look of concern came over you, worry concealing the lust in your eyes.

“felix, sweetheart, i’m so sorry…are you hurt? what did i do?“ you voiced, exasperated.

“noo i’m all good…y-you’re all good, noona-yah. oh you’re fucking, fucking phenommmenal, god. i just…i need a favour,” felix tripped over his words.

“of course. anything, felix, you’ve been such a good boy. just tell me what you need. let me take care of you,” you replied.

your expression was filled with concern, worry, and just a hint of lust as your eyes travelled over his body, taking in his red face, messy hair, and heaving chest.

felix’s heart slammed into his rib cage, as his eyes locked with yours. he took a deep breath, feeling the air catch in his throat as he tried to speak.

“n-noona,” he murmured, his cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red. “i need you to…can you let me…?”

your heart skipped as you heard the hitch in his voice, they way it trembled with need and desire. you knew what he wanted, you had made him fall apart under your touch just a moment ago, but you had to hear him say it.

you leaned closer, moving your body against his, letting your breath brush against his ear as you encouraged him.

“tell me, pretty. tell me what you need.”

a full body shiver ran through felix as your breath ghosted over his skin, sending a wave of heat straight to his core. he closed his eyes, drowning in the sensation of your body so close to his, the weight of your words in his ears.

he swallowed hard, his voice quiet and husky again as he finally spoke.

“…can you hold my hair back…whilst i ea-eat you out? please?”

oh. well, you thought that he was going to ask you to suck hickeys onto him further down, on his chest maybe. or he might’ve asked for you to kiss him.

but when your pretty roommate offers to give you head, are you really one to decline it?

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

part 2??

©fallingforfelix, 2024 tag if inspired

[bluesidez]

AHH CMON REQUESTS!! I know the inbox is flooded girl omg.

okay so as a request, i would really love to see a story where black, plus size reader and Miguel take on wedding planning. Reader is happy enjoying cake tastings, dress shopping, venue hunting etc. and groomzilla!miguel is trying to make everything perfect for her. It can be nsfw, but I trust you with whatever the vibe is! Love you down!! ✨✨✨✨

["It’s My Wife’s Day!"]

lab tester: @leoeloo 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader, black!Reader, PlusSize!reader

summary: No one is going to stop Miguel's fiancé from having the best day of her life, not if Miguel has anything to do with it.

content warning: AAVE (YAY!), sorry to anyone named Elana or Finley, Miguel gets a little mean here (I tried to keep it reasonable but he’s giving Libra Diva DOWN), mentions of food, some cultural (traditional) things from both sides but nothing crazy, there is one scene that could be triggering for my fellow big girls (but it's handled with care I promise), 18+ at the end so MDNI, it's also pretty suggestive throughout

word count: 8,888k EXACTLY (there should be no mistakes for as long as I've been working on it....but hey)

a/n: AHHHH! I was so happy to receive this request! (You have also been very sweet to me since my very first fic and I really appreciate that!!!) I said on my blog that I really love all things weddings, so this was a super fun write. I just love imagining Miguel in this position of making sure that his girl has everything while the girl is in complete bliss. (The mom here was also heavily inspired by my own mom who is much more active than I am in terms of telling people off.) As per our DMs, I did sprinkle in a little GR!Mig mannerisms! And! I added him being super in love with reader…but that’s a given. I do hope you enjoy! Also, I LOVE YOU!

Miguel refers to reader as his wife constantly before they’re actually married.

Also a headcanon for Miguel here that isn’t said explicitly is that his Libra trait of indecisiveness is on at all times. 

Miguel could never forget the day you set his heart ablaze when you said those destined words:

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He was over the moon. Weeks of him getting you to warm up to him, months of him chasing after you, years of him trying to show you that he’s the right one for you, and finally, your hand was adorned in the rock he’s been planning for you for eons. You were truly his lady, now and forever. 

The proposal was quiet and intimate, mostly because Miguel was a bit fearful you would say no, a seed of doubt growing the longer he waited. He steadily reminded you to get your nails done and paid for your hair appointments every now and then. Each time he thought he could do it, he chickened out. 

Then, one night under the stars after an unnecessary work event, his feelings just overloaded. 

You were so ethereal.

He remembers you laughing over something his drunk coworker had said, eyes sparkling as you retold the story. Your curls were parted to the side, earrings dangling past your jaw. Your legs were swinging over the edge of his trunk, not a care in the world as you talked with vigor. 

He thought that he couldn’t live without this. He couldn’t have a life without small moments like this with you. He couldn’t imagine a moment where you weren’t by his side. 

So, the words spilled out of him like water. He took your hands in his and poured his heart out. Finally, the ring box that had practically melted a shape into his thigh was being freed. 

You cried when you noticed what he was doing, emotions doing a complete 180. 

“No wonder you kept giving me extra money for my nails,” you let out a watery laugh as you leaned into him. 

Now, here you both were, almost a year later in the middle of wedding planning. 

The theme and colors were carefully handpicked, the venue was booked, and almost every week, the two of you had something to look forward to. 

Miguel was currently prepping ingredients for tonight’s dinner, listening as you chatted about your great wedding dress search of the day. 

“We stopped by one store, but the lady behind the desk immediately turned us down. I didn’t want to ruin such a good vibe, so I left it at that. Ma was ready to hurt her though.”

Miguel felt his nerves tighten at the news, “What?”

“Yeah, as soon as me and my entourage walked in, she ran up to us saying something about a short stock, but we knew she was lying-”

“What’s the name?”

You raise your eyebrows at his abruptness. 

“Miggy, it’s really ok. Don’t worry over this,” you got closer to him, taking his face into your hand. 

“I’m not. What’s the name?”

You pull his face down to yours, “Nuh uh. I’m not giving you the name. We said we weren’t going to be stressed out over this process, remember?” 

Miguel closed his eyes and brought his hands down your body, leaning his forehead against yours, “I remember.” He blew out a breath and squeezed your ass in hopes that it would help calm him down. 

“Good. Now, you stay right here and I’ll go get ready for dinner. I wanna tell you about this poor girl whose dad didn’t like a single thing she put on.”

You kiss him three times, the last kiss lingering a little longer with Miguel humming into your lips and lean back with a warm smile. Miguel’s hands clinged to you until you were too far to reach and you walked upstairs to change into your house clothes. 

Miguel stood next to the island, tapping his fingers against the granite with a tongue poking into his cheek. 

The dress shopping process was the one he was the least involved in, opting to be surprised on the day you walked down the aisle. You wouldn’t even let his family pitch in for the dress, saying something about running up your dad’s pockets. 

But how does a dress shop conveniently run out of dresses once his fiancé walks in?

Right as Miguel was considering googling every dress shop in the area, his phone buzzed to life. 

Just the person he wanted to hear from.

“Hello?” Miguel turned to toss some butter on a skillet, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

“Miguel…”

He stopped in his tracks, knowing the exact tone of voice your mother was using. 

“What happened?”

“Today was so beautiful!”

“But?”

“But that one shop on James Street? Terrible.”

Miguel would have usually chuckled at the dramatics, but this situation was no laughing matter to him.  

“You should have seen the way the people in there turned they nose up at us! One lady was about to jump out of her skin. All of this for some of the ugliest dresses I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Miguel shifted his position and stood up straight, tossing minced garlic in the sizzling butter, “Did they say anything to you?” His hands were gripping the phone enough to leave indents on his skin.

“Other than telling us how she wouldn’t have anything we would like, no. She didn’t even want us taking a seat in the lobby.”

He moved to grab a pen and a notepad from the drawer, “Do you have the name of the shop?”

“Lady Love. They should call it Lady A Lie.”

Miguel smiled, thankful that he could count on his future mother-in-law to be his partner in crime specifically when it came to making sure that no one brought harm to you. The number one thing that he and your mom had in common was their need to spring into action.

“Thank you. She didn’t want to tell me anything.”

“Trust me, if she hadn’t begged me not to act a fool, I would have cussed that heifer out. She was so nasty and so rude. That ol’ cow.”

“They’ll have a notice from my lawyer by the morning.”

Your mother hummed, “Let me get my iPad out and get to rating they store. It was a bleach blonde butched buffoon named Elana at the front desk. She was the one giving my baby a hard time. Nobody in there was trying to stop her either.”

“I’ll remember that,” Miguel could hear you coming down the stairs, fuzzy slides creating a steady tempo against the floor. “Let me call you back later.”

“She must be coming back. Tell her to bring me back my shoes!”

Miguel chuckled, “Yes ma’am.”

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Was that Ma?”

“Yeah,” Miguel reached to place some chicken on the hot skillet, satisfied with the simmered ingredients he added. “She said to give her those shoes back.”

“She’ll get them back! I’m using them right now. What else were you two talking about?”

Miguel turns down the boil of the pasta noodles, shoulders tensing, “She was telling me about Lady Love.”

You clicked your teeth, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“I’m not!” He turned the chicken over while you grumbled into his back. “But she called me with very upsetting news. What am I but a good son? I had to listen.”

“You two are gonna work my nerves.”

“Don’t say that. We’re just not going to sit back and let someone disrespect you like that. What kind of man would I be if I just let somebody not treat you right and I have the means to stop it? So, please. Let me do this.”

You huffed and buried your face into his back, fingers pressing into his skin. His words shut you up. 

“Fine.” 

“Thank you, cariño. Now, can you get the salad and the wine out of the fridge? This is almost ready.”

“What are you making?”

“Marry Me Chicken and Pasta.”

“So funny.”

“Ah, I know. It must really work, huh?”

Miguel walked hand-in-hand with you down the fancy boutiques in the shopping district. 

You both had just gotten done wandering aimlessly as you waited for the cake-tasting appointment. Miguel had to be stopped multiple times from buying everything you complimented. 

He was extremely happy to see you giddy about the cake tasting. It was something you’ve been looking forward to since the day you both confirmed a wedding date. 

He’s studied your Pinterest boards heavily, the notifications dinging with every pin. He knows you want to go all out for the cake. Something large enough to feed both of your huge families and something grand enough to match the venue and the theme. 

He arranged for the best of the best to be trying out today and if that didn’t work, he’ll seek someone else. He’ll even bake the cake if he has to, although you’d push him out of the kitchen.

“I hope they have that Biscoff flavor. I heard it was really good,” you turn to him with a hopeful smile. 

Miguel smiled back at you, “I’m sure they will.”

He only lets go of your hand to hold the door open for you, eyes enjoying the view of your body in the flowy dress you were wearing. Earlier, he couldn’t stop kissing over the deep Queen Anne neckline of it, claiming that you smelled too good. You two almost didn’t make it out of the house on time.

“Hello! Welcome in!”

The bakery was bright and homey. The desserts on display were placed on light peach stands and risers and the smell of caramel and cinnamon was strong in the air. Square canvases covered the walls with cute paintings of some of the featured desserts.

“Miguel, look!”

You pull him over to some Miffy-shaped buns filled with different flavored custards. 

“That is too adorable to even eat.”

“But I do hope you’d still be willing to give it a taste!”

You both look up to the friendly face behind the counter. They were a lanky figure with a glitter tattoo of a unicorn cupcake planted on their arm and pink gauges in their ears 

“You two must be the future Mr. & Mrs. O’Hara. Lovely to meet you all.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” Miguel reached his hand out to give a firm shake. 

“My name is Finley and I’ll be assisting you all today. We have several beautiful flavors for you to try.”

Finely directed you both to a square table booth in the corner of the bakery. Miguel slid next to your right side in order to wrap his arm around with one hand and eat with the other. 

“Other than the standard Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry & Cream, Red Velvet, Marble, and ‘Wedding Cake’ flavors that we offer, the samples for you here include Tiramisu, Passionfruit, White Chocolate Raspberry, Lemon Blueberry, Cookies & Cream, aaaand Dulce de Leche!”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up, feeling skeptical but open. 

“Woah,” your eyes grew at the neat display of confections before you. “I’m so excited.”

 “I’ll be right over here if you guys need me. Enjoy!”

You picked up a fork and dug straight into the Strawberries & Cream.

“That is so freaking good,” you groan out, eyebrows scrunching. 

“Let me see,” Miguel turned to you with his mouth open, eyes full of mirth.

“Miguel, please.”

“What? It’s practice for the real deal.”

“When we’re the only ones in here?”

“It’s going to feel like an intimate moment just between us, no?”

You sigh, defeated. He doesn’t even budge when you shove a giant piece of cake in his mouth. He grabs your hand before you can retreat, licking slowly away at the leftover cream. 

He focuses on the golden fork, working in between the prongs. Time slows down as you watch the white icing disappear into his mouth. His eyelashes are long and pretty and his lips are plump and a little wet from his tongue. 

One more pass of the fork through his mouth and he’s looking up at you with the same fire from this morning. 

You clear your throat, “Is that how you’re going to eat the cake?”

“Something like that.”

You two slowly but surely make it through the rest of the flavors with you trying to stay unflustered and Miguel trying to up the ante. 

He’s grinning and chuckling at your ruffled state until you get to the Dulce de Leche cake. He harrumphs as you cut into it. 

“No, no, you wanna eat cake so bad, so eat it!”

“This isn’t the cake I was talking about-”

“I’m going to shove this fork so far down your throat if you even think of finishing those thoughts out loud.”

 “You know I love it when you get that way,” Miguel sighs and reaches to eat from the fork before you can say anything back. 

You wait in silence as you watch his face contort from disgusted to neutral to pleased. 

“It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah?”

“A little too sweet. Abuela wouldn’t like it.”

“Do you like it, though?”

He paused as he watched you take a bite. 

“Maybe.”

“Would you like it as our wedding cake?”

“No….”

You smirked at him, “But you want it as your groom’s cake?”

“…Yes.”

He looks so conflicted about it that you almost feel bad for him.

“Miguel it’s ok if you like it, no one is going hurt you. You know you have a sweet tooth.”

“It is really delicious, like eerily so. It’s not my favorite cake, though.”

“Oh? Was it the Cookies & Cream one?”

“Close.”

You look around the plate, confused as to how fruit flavors have anything to do with sandwich cookies. 

Miguel got closer to your ear, lips grazing the top, “My favorite is you.”

You push his face back with your hand while he grins into your palm. 

“I see you two lovebirds are enjoying everything,” Finley walks back over to the two of you. “Any standouts?”

Miguel lists off the ones you were enjoying the most with ease. 

“We also enjoyed this Dulce de Leche one but we decided it would be best for my cake but before we move on, do you have any Biscoff cake samples that we can try?”

“Of course, let me go get that for you.”

He looks back at you cheesing at him.

“You remembered!”

“Always.” 

Finley comes back with a small Biscoff bundt cake. 

“Now, unfortunately, we don’t offer this flavor for any tiered cakes.”

You took a bite and almost soared. The flavors were just the right mix of salty and sweet, some caramel coating the top. 

Miguel looked from you to Finley, “Can you just do it for one tier?”

“Um, I can ask my boss when she comes back-”

“You can leave her number with me. I would really love to talk with her face-to-face.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good,” Miguel reaches over to wipe some salt off of your lips. “My wife wants a pretty grand cake and she has some particular ideas. We want to be really involved in the process for the best result. No surprises.”

“Absolutely. Would you still want to place that order for the groom cake? We have a sale on toppers for them right now.”

They place a pamphlet on the counter with countless toppers of grooms in pure agony. Some are being dragged by their wives and others are running away. Miguel turns his lip up and moves his eyes to Finely without lifting his head up. 

“These are very tacky and senseless, so no. We’ll place the order for it at the same time as the main cake.”

Finely moves to remove the pamphlet, face red and eyes wet, “I apologize. A lot of the future husbands enjoy them.”

“Do I look like the other husbands that come through here?”

“N-no sir! Not at all.”

“Tell you what, give me your boss’s number and your business card. We’ll circle back. Thank you for today’s tasting.”

“L-let me at least give you some extra dessert before you leave. Free of charge!”

Miguel helps you stand as Finley hops around the store grabbing any and everything. 

“I really hope you consider choosing us for the wedding.”

“The wedding?”

“Your! Your wedding!”

“Hmph.”

Miguel grabs the box from Finley’s shaking hands and promptly leaves the store with you on his arm. You turn back to Finley with an apologetic look and a quiet sorry leaving your lips, though you’re sure they’re still shocked by Miguel’s behavior. 

“I’m going to set up more appointments. We need a backup cake,” he says as he guides you back to the car. 

“You loved those cakes and you scared that poor person to death.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just me eating these cakes. And those were some of the most horrible toppers I’ve seen yet. Who does that?” 

“You would be shocked to know that not every man is willing to celebrate and proudly love their partner.”

Miguel turned the car on and let the cool AC hit his face. 

“But, if you still want to look at more bakeries, we can. More cake for me.”

You turn his face to yours and kiss his lips gently. 

“Now what’s all this about eating me-flavored cake?”

He shifts the gear into reverse, “Let’s get home and you’ll find out.”

When you said you wanted creative and unique pre-wedding photoshoots, Miguel didn’t hesitate to make sure he could pull it together for you. Now he’s starting to regret it. 

You walked out into the studio apartment with an oversized button-down that looked like it could be his, some thigh-high stockings squeezing at your thick thighs, and some black lingerie peeking through the thin shirt material. Your makeup was simple but jaw-dropping with glossy lips and a lovely blush that brought out a glow to your skin. Your hair was in a blowout style, curls bouncing with every step closer to him.

This specific photographer that you had mentioned in awed passing was known for her eye for romantic detail. Her pictures truly captured the love between couples in raw form. When you showed Miguel the pictures on her website, he was quick to get in touch with her to set up a decent amount of photoshoots. What he didn’t expect was for her to have an influx of assistants and protégés to have wandering eyes. 

“Are you going to move the lights or are you going to keep gawking at my wife like an idiot?” 

The one assistant who clearly didn’t understand what Miguel’s death stares meant jumped at his voice and rushed to move things within the set, the entire back of his neck beet-red. 

“Baby, don’t be like that, he might just be nervous,” you slid your hands up his chest, straightening out his “work” shirt. “Don’t fuss at him.”

 “He should do his job then,” Miguel shifted his gaze from the scrambling boy to you, voice getting quieter as he peered down at your excited face. “You do look beautiful, though. Can’t blame him.”

“You like it?” There was a spark in your eye. It was something that Miguel knew all too well.

He glided his fingers down your back, feeling the heat of your skin through the shirt. Your eyes never left his lips as he drew closer. You could feel his breath covering your skin.

The flash of a strobe light caused you to jump.

“These are going to make such stunning outtakes,” Xina gasped as she moved her camera back up to her face again. “Sorry to scare you. Please continue this and we can do the original plan in a second.”

You laughed as Miguel pulled you even closer, pressing kisses against your neck to avoid ruining your makeup. 

The original idea of the shoot was to have Miguel look like he’s coming home from work and walking in on you dancing around in his clothes. The idea was cute, domestic, a little sexy, and true to life. While it wasn’t the set of photos going out with your wedding invitations, it was something fun for your socials. 

As the scene played out, Miguel didn’t expect you to open up your shirt even more as he came back through the entryway. It made for a nice expression when he looked up to see you passionately dancing around the couch. 

You urged him toward you with your finger, hips moving to the music blasting over the speakers Xina had behind the equipment. Miguel grinned and headed your way. 

With Xina’s direction, the both of you were able to get out lively photos as if it were just a normal day in the soon-to-be O’Hara home. 

By the time you all were finished, Miguel was only in a tucked-in tank top with his hair tossed and turned. You still looked perfect on his lap, grinning down at him as he mischievously bit his loose necktie that you placed on your shoulders.

“Perfect!” Xina smiled behind the camera. “Now, one little thing I like to do at the end of each shoot is have the couple face me with their faces together for one final picture.”

You kiss Miguel on the corner of his mouth and lay his tie on top of his head before turning to Xina. Miguel follows with a lazy grin on his face.

It would have all been so well if that same assistant wasn’t still staring at you like he’s never seen a beautiful woman before when Xina started to wrap up. 

He met Miguel’s eyes and almost turned blue in the face trying to look busy.

There were so many more photoshoots to go in the near future. He’s not sure how he’ll make it through the next ones without making a scene. 

“Miguel! The invitation samples are here,” you knocked on his office door, giddy with excitement.

Miguel rolls back from his desk, glasses perched on his nose, “C’mon, let me see.”

You stride eagerly to his seat and he’s waiting with the same energy, pulling you into his lap once you’re within arms reach. You make a noise of excitement as run your finger under the envelope flap. Miguel leans his head on your shoulder waiting to finally see the design you so meticulously planned. 

You slid the cardstock out, gasping as you saw the paperdoll drawings of you and Miguel on the page. The artists did a fantastic job of designing you both in such a stylistic, yet recognizable way. 

“Oh my god, look at the little outfits!”

You panned through the cut-out clothes, one with you all’s work outfits, another with casual outfits, and the last one with a wedding dress and a tux. You brought the papers up to cover your mouth as you laughed again. Miguel’s heart soared at the charming way you reacted. 

“Look! They even captured your cute nose right!”

“You love my nose, huh?”

“Stop,” you snicker as you pull out the last picture. It’s one from a more recent photoshoot with you both in formal, dressy attire with scissors and measuring tapes in your hands and paper hearts everywhere to match the paperdoll invitation. 

Miguel took the invitations from your hands, wanting to get a better look. It really was one of a kind, something you both would be able to look back fondly at. 

He ran his thumb across the words, really taking in the fact that you’ll be walking down the aisle right into his arms. He read the words once more. 

Save the date…

2025…

Miguel &…

“How the hell did they spell your name wrong?”

You looked up from the picture in your hand with a frown, “What?”

“We waited this long for samples and they spell your name fucking wrong.”

You read over the invitation again and let out a groan, “Of course. Let me call the company-”

“I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? You looked busy when I knocked, I don’t want you to get sidetracked.”

“Making sure that my wife’s name is spelled correctly on our wedding invitations isn’t getting sidetracked. I’ll handle it.”

You felt your shoulders drop, a tension you didn’t realize you were carrying releasing from your body. 

“Thank you so much, baby,” you sent him the number with a small smile on your face. 

Miguel gave your lips a peck, “Anything for you. Don’t worry your head about it.”

You stood up to leave, but not before he gave your thighs a squeeze. 

When he was sure you rounded the corner, he immediately pressed the number, blowing slowly through his mouth. 

He was about to work his way to free invitations and a year's worth of service once he was finished. 

Miguel laughed at the video you sent him. You were practically glowing with the turquoise waves in the background and braids in your hair. A giant plumeria was tucked behind your ear and you held a big fruity drink in your hand. 

You were out on your bachelorette’s trip, enjoying the waves in the sand as you caught up with your bridesmaids. He hadn’t seen any annoyed texts yet, so he assumed that the trip was not falling to pieces. 

He could hear your friends in the background bickering about how they had to take your phone away sometimes to stop you from texting him. 

“She got a few more months of being a hoe!”

“Will you shut up?! I’m making a video.”

“It’s true, though! We’re about to go get drunk as fuck. Don’t worry, Miguel, we got her!”

You just rolled your eyes and smiled at their antics before the video ends.

The mood of the video contrasted your texts entirely. They really did get you drunk.

“i miss you alreadyyyyyy”

“I miss you too but you need to have fun”

“I’ll see you soon. I’ll be waiting for you at the airport in just a few days.”

“good”

“you better be waiting for me”

“i wont you”

“shit”

“want you”

“you and your dick”

“gonna sing to him”

“Him?”

“yeah him”

“he’s mine”

“gonna love on him”

“and you”

“miss you so baaaaad”

“the bed is empty without you :((((“

“I hope you remember all of this when you see me baby”

“my name is mrssss oharaaaa”

“idk who baby is”

“Ok well Mrs. O’Hara you need to go to sleep”

“i will go to sleep mr ohara”

“gonna dream of you”

“and my big dick”

“You do that”

“Send me a pic when you wake up”

The night could have ended perfectly. He knew you had fun and crashed safely in your room. There were no problems with the resort or the reservations. You were constantly flooding his phone with pictures without talking because of the “No Miguel” rule he was sure your friends set. 

Miguel wanted to close his eyes in peace. 

So when his assistant sent him the picture of one of the most crucial parts of your wedding, he could feel his neck tightening. He called Ben instantly.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

“The broom! They had a lot of them at the store but this one was plain and white, so I feel like it’s perfect for the wedding.”

Miguel pinched his forehead in an attempt to keep his eyebrows from molding together, “Do you have a schedule for when you’re this stupid, or is it only reserved for me?”

Ben was silent for a second, “I don’t understand, I thought you said you needed a broom? Is that not what this is?”

“A broom to jump over Reily. For weddings. I told you to check with Jess about it because I knew you weren’t going to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. Imagine if I brought this home to my wife. She would be offended.”

“W-what’s the difference?”

He might find out the difference once Miguel hits him over the head with it. 

“I’m going to fire you.” 

Miguel wasn’t really. He was just so tired. 

“Return the broom. I’ll take care of this in the morning.”

Ben was stuttering and blubbering as Miguel smacked the red button. He needed to look at the pictures you sent again. He didn’t need to fall asleep in such a bad mood. 

Miguel was certain that if he were a celebrity, this would be the wedding of the century with the way the bill was racking up. 

Not that it really mattered, because it was his wife’s day. Anything you wanted, he was going to get it. 

You both agreed on a buffet-style dinner for the reception with different stations and servers to accommodate your huge families. 

Currently, you both were tasting the traditional foods that the caterer had to offer and it was looking less than desirable. 

The greens were a bit bland, the catfish was ok, and the mac & cheese was delicious. 

The pork was a bit dry, the wedding cookies could have been better, and the mole was missing something. 

“I think,” Miguel pushed his food around the plate. “It’s missing banana.”

“Really? I’ve never thought to add that before.”

“For future reference, it’ll really make the difference.”

You wiped your fingers above the plate, “I think this might be a sign to leave the traditional stuff to our dessert table. Some of these are great but I’m sure both of our families will be up in arms with complaints. And maybe this is for the better! Tradition is too on the nose.”

Miguel admires your positivity because this is probably the sixth caterer you both have tested out. 

“We know you’re popular from your page, so what is it that you’re most confident in?”

The woman before you all smiled, “Since you're both looking for a pretty ambitious spread, I think things like a pizza bar or build-your-own stations should be the way to go.”

Through another round of dishes, you and Miguel were amazed by the specialties that the chef had to offer from the customization to the endless amount of options.

After a long Q&A trial between the chef and Miguel:

“Do you have simpler options for the kiddos?”

“Is it possible to do this station and this station right next to each other?”

“Should I hire more help for you?”

“Do you sell this mac & cheese separately?”

“Can you try this mole one more time?”

You both settled on five different stations with food ranging from BBQ to fries to candy. No one will be able to say that they went home hungry.

“Are you satisfied?” you rub Miguel’s chest on the way out to the car.

“Completely. I think it’s going to be great.”

The big day was getting closer and closer with finalizations being made and arrangements galore. The cake flavors were chosen, your dress was being edited to perfection, makeup and hair appointments were already made, and Miguel’s suit was tailored like no other. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were all fitted, especially after Miguel’s constant trips to Lyla’s shop. He was there for nearly every snip, tuck, and seam.

The time was really winding down and you both could really feel that as you walked into the reception venue. 

Miguel woke up that day to a phone call claiming that the venue had been overbooked and was seeking him out to cancel his event. He’s never called people faster in his life. The threats that were made was not something he was proud of, but he’s glad he didn’t wake you up.

Now he has the pleasure of watching you glide around the tables in awe.

“Miguel! Look at the plates! The silverware! The centerpieces!”

It truly was magical watching your vision come to light. 

Miguel followed after you with a grin painting his lips, checking every table for faults. The wedding planner was also next to him, waiting with bated breath for direction from Miguel.

“This should be here,” Miguel pointed to a lone party favor in the middle of a plate.

The planner moves it with ease, used to Miguel’s demands at this point in the process. 

Miguel kept walking towards the tables closest to where you and he would be sitting. 

“I thought I said that these two weren’t supposed to be next to each other? We don’t have time for arguments that night,” Miguel picks up two placeholders. “I don’t want to have to carry our aunts out of here myself. Fix it.”

The wedding planner grabbed them and made a note on their clipboard.

“And where’s the centerpiece for our table?” Miguel checks his watch. “It was supposed to be here yesterday.”

“There was a delay in the flowers. They were the wrong shade, remember? They should be here first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll have the final touches to it.”

“And you’ll have the pictures sent to me?”

“Of course.”

“Miguel!” you were on the other side of the hall by the dessert table. “The lights over here are shaped like hearts! How cute is that!”

Miguel’s arms unfolded, demeanor shifting as he watched you get excited by the different labels. His chest rose up and the scowl on his mouth disappeared. 

“You really love her.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“This is a toast to everyone who has been with us on this long, long journey.”

Your closest friends and family laughed at Miguel’s words. 

Who’s to say that Miguel essentially blacked out making sure that everyone walked down the aisle correctly just a few hours earlier? No one brave enough to bring it to his face.

“You guys have been here from the start. From the moment I decided to pursue this angel of a woman, you guys were right there cheering me on. Now we’re here years later about to take on one of the biggest days of our lives.”

The table was a mix of happiness and nostalgia, excitement and fondness.

“I can’t thank you all enough for being a part of our bridal party. I can’t even thank you guys enough for encouraging us as a couple. The love in this room truly knows no bounds.’

Miguel lifts his glass up with one hand and squeezes your hand with another.

“So here’s to the present and the future. To family and friends. To us, your future O’Hara’s.”

The table clinks their glasses together with a cheer, watching as Miguel kisses you with so much adoration. 

Tomorrow was going to be whimsical.

Today was starting out obnoxious. 

Anything that could go wrong was going wrong for Miguel.

First, woke up almost an hour late due to playing stupid games all night with his groomsmen. He would have preferred one my night with you before the “I do’s,” but apparently that was bad luck. Instead, he got an extensive game night with a couple of beers. Nothing to have him over the edge, but definitely something to make him feel like he was in college again.

Second, he couldn’t find his cufflinks that he had made specifically for this day. They were custom with your initials and your birthstone on them. The room looked like a whirlwind after he searched top to bottom only for Gabriel to have them the whole time and tell him almost forty minutes later. 

He wanted to strangle him.

“Miguel, I have the rings too. There’s no way you think that Peter B. is a better ringkeeper than I am.”

“If you lose them, I swear to god I’m going to-”

“Yeah, yeah. Death, Grim Ripper, stabbing, big whoop. Go calm down.”

Third, for some reason, Peter B. had Mayday in the hotel suite when the only children that were supposed to hit the aisle were his niece and your nephew. 

“Why is that baby here?” Miguel tried to keep his voice level because it’s not Mayday who ran in here, it was Peter who’s constantly doing what he wanted. She was walking around and chatting with the groomsmen who were kind enough to keep up her conversations. Four-year-olds had a lot to say.

“Ah, she’s just here until her grandma comes by to pick her up!”

“Peter, if I pass out before I see my wife today, you’re going to be the first reason.”

Lastly, when everything was finally settled and he was ready to go to the ceremony venue, Gabriel came running in and almost gave Miguel a heart attack. Something about you and crying and Miguel almost broke the door down trying to get out.

“Miguel, don’t look at her!” Gabriel ran after him as he made his way to your suite.

“I’m not, damn it, I just need to make sure she’s ok.”

He was on your floor in a flash, your friends waiting outside the door. 

“Where is she?”

“She’s inside. We calmed her down for the most part, but her aunt got up here somehow and started to talk shit.”

“Miguel, if Jess and her mom weren't able to remove her, it would have been bad. She kept saying things about how you’re being tricked. She kept telling her that she wasn’t worthy enough to be a bride.”

“What?” Miguel walked towards the door. “Let me in.”

“Let us make sure you can’t see her, first.”

“I really don’t give a-”

“Miguel.”

He turned to Gabriel who pushed his hands down in a pressing motion, “Ya relájate, yeah? She’s not going to be centered if you aren’t centered.” 

With that in mind, Miguel waited at the door until he was allowed in. Your friends said you were in the bathroom with the door cracked. He walked over and turned his back to the door, tapping in a light rhythm so as not to startle you.

“You ok, baby?”

He could hear your sniffles and it took everything within him not to take the hinges off the door just to get to you. 

“No, not really. I, I’m terrified.”

“Honestly, me too.”

The door moved a bit, and your voice sounded closer, “What if I’m not the woman you need?

He scoffed, “And what if I’m not the man you need?”

You were quiet for just a moment, “You are more than what any man has ever been for me. I don’t think there’s been even a day where I could fix my lips to say that I haven’t felt your love and your heart. You’re…you’re everything to me.”

“So how do you think I feel when someone has convinced you that you aren’t enough for me?” Miguel turned his head to the crack. “No woman has opened my eyes like you have. No person has stolen my heart and cared for it the way that you have. I can’t even begin to describe the ways in which you’ve changed me for the better. You are my world.”

“Miguel,” your voice was watery as you took a deep breath. 

“If you want to call this entire thing off and go to the Justice of the Peace, that’s fine with me. We can send our family straight to the reception. I don’t care, as long as I have you.”

“No, I want to still have this ceremony. I still want to present our love. I’m just overwhelmed right now.”

Miguel moves to slide his wrist through the door, “Give me your hand.”

You laugh as you take his hand in yours, careful not to lean on the door and smoosh it.

“You are worthy to me and this is only a new chapter in the foundation that we’ve built. No jealous aunt nor any other family member is taking what we have away. I chose you, you chose me, ok?”

“Ok,” you squeeze his hand as rubs the top of yours with his thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Miguel’s heart was hammering in his chest like a hummingbird fluttering around nectar.

He stood at the end of the aisle with his one hand grasping one wrist and a knot in his throat. The seats were filled with waiting people, but he didn't think anyone was more ready than him. Gabriel had patted him on the back once he was down the aisle, now he stood with his daughter at his side making sure Miguel really didn’t pass out.

Miguel’s tunnel vision shifted as everyone got up to watch you come around the corner. Miguel’s breath stopped. 

You really were his world. 

Your smile was blinding as you stepped towards him, your father’s arm wrapped tightly around yours. The closer you got, the more Miguel could feel the air coming back into his lungs.

As he waited for your father to put your hands in his, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was so lucky, he couldn’t believe it. 

As he held his hands out, he had to will himself to relax. 

You stepped closer to him, your warm palms bringing life back to his. 

“You’re shaking.”

He looked to his hands and they did have a faint tremor to them, “I’m excited.”

With eyes for only each other, you both made it through your vows. Miguel damn near brought the audience to tears with his imagery of a lost younger version of himself and you finding him in his aimless pursuit of living. How you opened up to him like a waterfall behind thick vines. How you wrapped your arms around him. How you upgraded his life. 

You almost brought him to tears when you spoke about how he loved you. How he stood tall between all that was against you and guided you to better days. How he never went a day without showering you in some form of love, even when he was feeling like shit. How he made you want to grow old with him and walk through life together. 

To the shock of no one, you both said “I do” with ease, no objection to be heard. 

When he kissed you, the world stopped for only a second and came back down with the celebration from your guests. His hands on your jaw brought you closer to him and one swipe of the tongue before he pulled away had you excited for later. 

One more kiss and you both turned to the crowd ecstatically. The broom was placed in front of you both and with three taps on your hand you both took a huge jump over it. Your family and friends cheered even louder. 

Walking down the aisle to the doors, Miguel could actually pay attention to the crowd. So many people were smiling and wiping tears from their faces. It only solidified the love that he had for you. 

You both laugh as flower petals fill the air around you on the way to the car. 

It was really a joyous occasion. 

Miguel was so happy, he didn’t care what anyone else did.

Ok so, he did stop one of his baby cousins from sticking their entire head in the fondue machine, but other than that, he was so relieved.

The DJ announcing you two as Mr. & Mrs. Miguel O’Hara elevated his mood and the trip to the dance floor for the first dance had his spirits high. 

The two of you had a sexy number, with his hands barely leaving your hips and his fingers sliding up the slit of the sparkly dress you changed into. 

After that, it was hard for him to keep his hands off of you. He tried to distract himself with catching up with family, grabbing food from each station, having dance competitions, laying sleeping kids more comfortably in chairs, anything to stop himself from just dragging you to your reserved hotel room. 

When you two stood near the cake feeding each other bites with hearts in your eyes, he couldn’t help but to lean into your ear and whisper, “Still the second best flavor.”

You hit his chest with one hand and covered your cake-filled mouth with the other. 

By the time you drove off with ribbons and flowers trailing the back of the car, Miguel was practically buzzing getting you all to himself. 

He made that known by carrying you bridal style to the room without a care in the world and you laughing into his neck. 

You kissed his neck as he refused to let you, even for the elevator, “You’re so silly.”

“The better to make you laugh, Mrs. O’Hara.”

“I love it when you call me that. Say it again.”

“Mrs. O’Hara. My beautiful bride today, my beautiful wife for life.”

He passes through the door after you reach to scan the keycard. As soon as he closes it you’re on his face kissing all over. 

“My husband,” you say in between the passes of his lips against yours. “Mr. O’Hara. Will you put me down?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Then how will we finish off our night with a bang? C’mon, baby, I have a surprise for you.”

“Fine,” four more kisses and Miguel let you go. 

“Just go sit on the bed and I’ll be right back.”

Miguel laid his jacket on a chair and walked over to the bed. He started to unbutton his shirt carefully, not wanting to tear the expensive material. He slid his shoes off carefully too, sliding into the fluffy slippers the hotel provided. 

He would say he wishes he could have done more for tonight, but the two of you will be enjoying the fresh air of a foreign country in about two weeks time. 

He sat on the bed as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. There was no telling what you had in store, and he can’t wait to find out. 

“Close your eyes!”

Miguel obeyed, curious as to what you had in store. He could hear the padding of your heels on the carpet getting closer. 

You took his hands and guided them to your ass and with muscle memory, he took a handful.

“I’m already sold,” he said, feeling some light fabric hit his wrists. 

You chuckled at his face, seeing his tongue poked out to the corner and his hands feeling and kneading your body. 

“Ok, open ‘em.”

Miguel parted his eyes to see you in beautiful white lingerie. A white open lace see-through babydoll set hugged your tits tight. Panning down, he could see your thin panty with the string pulled over your hips and the curve of your body on display. Going further down, on your left leg, there was a garter digging into your skin that read “Miguel’s Wife” in bold, red cursive letters. 

“You like it?”

Miguel looked up to you with a tinier veil adorning your hair.

“This garter might be the only thing that makes it out unscathed.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” he leans forward to plant kisses along the top of your chest, pulling your thick thighs around him. “We’re gonna get a complaint.”

“Good,” you raked your nails down his nape, earning a groan from Miguel as you continued to his back. “I want you to make love to me.”

You start to grind along him, feeling the bulge in his suit pants grow. Miguel hummed and started to remove your top. It looked gorgeous on you, but it was useless to him at the moment. Your skin was sparkling all the way down to your nipples and it only made Miguel want to devour you more. 

You gasp as he smacks your ass and hikes you up, his mouth latching onto your areola like it’s fruit from the chocolate fondue today. 

“I’ve been wanting this all night,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “You looked so amazing today.”

“So did you,” you tilt his chin up to look at his face. “I saw you looking at me all night. You’re not very discreet.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

He got up with you in his arms and flipped you over, “Everybody there should know how I feel about you by now.”

You were a vision. Smooth skin contrasting with the stark white of the panty and garter, veil sprawled out behind you like a halo. Miguel bent down to kiss you again, truly in awe that this was who he had as a spouse. 

“I want you to know how I feel about you too,” you whisper against his lips. 

You guide his hand from your face to your breast to your panties. You part your legs, thighs shaking in anticipation. Miguel's eyes get wider as he sees your lips through the peek-a-boo hole of your underwear. One swipe and your essence is on his fingertips. 

Miguel brings his eyes back to you as he takes his fingers and brings it to his lips, sucking it off with a pop. 

You bite your lip watching him lick his fingers and unbuckle his pants. 

The air is tight and heated, with you open and waiting and Miguel watching and wanting. 

He leans back and pulls his pants down. You look down hoping to see a peek of what’s about to rock your world. 

At the sight of your name and “MIC” in bold black letters across the band you bust out in giggles. 

You sit up as he comes around to the side of the bed, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I’ll never forget it.”

You laugh even more when you see it up close.

“Help me take this off,” he turns around to show your name and “Husband” printed on the back.  

You lean into his back in a fit of giggles, shocked but giddy. 

“We really are soulmates,” you say as you pull the briefs by the leg. “Meant to be.”

Miguel turns back around, bending to slide your mouth with his, “Forever and ever.”

True to his word, it really felt like you were his favorite flavor with the amount of marks he left on your skin before he got back in between your legs. You were so wound tight that with one lick from your hole to your clit, you were already trapping his head there. 

Miguel hummed and hiked your hips up, mouth moving to kiss your lips as if he were making out with the ones on your face. It was absurd how loud it sounded. His tongue kept swirling along your walls while the tip of his nose rubbed against your clit. 

You didn’t know where to keep your hands, but it did look good with your ring dazzling on your finger as you brought your hands to his head buried deep in your pussy. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried as he started to nod his face along your flower. 

Just when you could feel yourself ride to the edge, he took his middle and ring finger and spread you open. You shouted his name as you felt the cool touch of the ring slide in and out alongside the heat of his tongue. 

You don’t remember when you came down, but you remember Miguel’s drenched face kissing along your shaking thighs. 

“No Dulce de Leche is beating that, Mrs. O’Hara,” he reached to pull the soaking lace off, careful not to move the garter. 

“C’mere,” you hold your hands out, wanting to feel him on you. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

Miguel groans into your mouth, grinding his dick along your wet folds. He finds your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“I love you,” he sighs into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

One sweet session later, he had you on your stomach, back arched, and yelling into the pillows as he pounded into you. 

You could see stars as his hips smacked loudly against your ass. The headboard was knocking against the wall with every push. 

Miguel was really feeling the wedding attire as he had one hand gripping your veil by your back and the other pulling at garter. 

When you came around his cock, he was diving in right after, letting go into your sea. The shudders of you afterwards had him moving a little more and turning your face to the side to kiss your panting lips. 

By the time you two finished, you were sure the sun was soon to rise. 

Your hair was a mess, the veil was somewhere across the room, and you both were tangled up in the sheets. 

You laid your head on Miguel’s chest, content to listen to his heartbeat to lull you to sleep. He’s rubbing your arm and kissing the top of your head. 

“Thank you so much for stepping up and making this day so magical for me,” you look up at him. “Words can’t explain how appreciative I am.”

Miguel looked back at you, eyes warm, “I just want to see you smile. Thank you for giving me space to handle things.”

You pucker your lips and he reaches to comply. 

“Now, we need to get some sleep. Gotta regain some energy.”

“You’re absolutely right,” you say as you tilt your eyes down to the sheets. “Because I’ve got a show to put on when we wake up.”

Miguel just laughs as he pulls you onto his chest. 

The birds chirping were a nice background noise to you all’s slumber. 

I went through several episodes of Kitchen Nightmares in order to finish this. BUT! I am happy with the result. As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT!

[itsnesss]

Please ignore if I’ve already sent this. If you are able to, I’d love to request a story about Min Ho and reader where they are both students at university (or just students at KISS- whichever you want). He notices that she isn’t acting like herself and is just not having him teasingly flirting with her. He discovers that she has a fever high fever after she collapses while trying to get her bike from the bike stand (a la “My Love Story at Level 99 with Yamada- I love that scene.) he takes her to her dorm/apartment but she’s unable to keep water down, so he takes her to the hospital. Eventually he takes her back to rest at her dorm/apartment and he falls asleep resting against the window. Honestly, as long as he takes care of feverish reader I’m all in!

𝐟𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

summary | the request. you fall ill and faint, but minho quickly steps in, carrying you to his room and later to the hospital. he takes care of you with constant concern, offering comfort and protection as you rest, creating a warm, caring atmosphere

warnings | fluff (comforting moments, caring gestures), fever, fainting, illness, hospital visit, physical care

word count | 1.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The day had started like any other at KISS. The sun shone through the large windows of the building, and the students of your university walked the halls between classes. But something was wrong with you. Since the morning, you had felt a strange discomfort, a kind of weakness you couldn’t identify, but you thought it was just tiredness. It wasn’t until you went out to the courtyard to take your bike from the rack that you knew for sure: something wasn’t right.

You wobbled slightly as you tried to balance yourself on your bike, the air felt dense, and your legs were giving out. Sweat trickled down your forehead, and the world around you seemed to spin. That was when everything went dark. The ground came toward you with alarming speed, and you closed your eyes, bracing for the impact.

Min Ho had been nearby, close enough to see you lose your balance and fall. His reaction was immediate, running to you within seconds, his face showing a look of concern.

“Hey! Are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with alarm as he helped you sit up.

The world kept spinning, and it took you a moment to find words. You could only whisper, “I’m fine,” but your voice sounded much weaker than you wanted.

Min Ho looked at you closely, and that was when his expression changed. He noticed the paleness of your face and the sweat on your forehead. What worried him the most, however, was the heat radiating from you. Without hesitation, he scooped you up in his arms.

“Come on, I’ll take you,” he said firmly, but with a gentleness that surprised you.

Despite your resistance, you couldn’t deny that just the thought of moving made you feel worse. His arms were strong yet careful, and before you could protest, you were already on your way to his destination. He took you to his room, though you knew that what you really needed was rest. It was clear something else was happening with your body, and the fever wasn’t something you could ignore.

Once you arrived, he laid you down on his bed without commenting on your state. He handed you a glass of water, but you barely managed to take a sip before the liquid came right back up. A knot formed in your stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Min Ho said, placing his hand on your forehead to check your temperature. “You have a fever, but I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

The seconds seemed to stretch as you looked at him. He didn’t leave your side for even a moment, and your mind felt completely foggy. The fever made you feel weak, dazed, and unable to think clearly. Still, you felt comforted by his presence.

Min Ho went to the kitchen for a moment, returning with some medicine and a bottle of water that, for some reason, seemed easier to swallow. He helped you take the pills, his protective attitude leaving no doubt about how seriously he took the situation.

“Now, stay here. I’ll take you to the hospital if this doesn’t get better,” he said, but his soft tone indicated he would rather not do that. He didn’t want things to get that serious.

Despite your exhaustion and the nightmares that seemed to haunt you with each blink, you managed to keep the water inside you for a little longer. Min Ho didn’t leave your side for a second. He sat in the chair by the window, watching you in silence as you settled under the blankets.

The silence you shared was different from before, when you’d joke and laugh. Now, everything felt much more personal, much more peaceful. His concern for you was palpable, and although he didn’t say it, you could see that nothing mattered more to him than making sure you were feeling better.

As the hours passed, the fever didn’t break, and he, true to his word, finally took you to the hospital. The ride was uncomfortable and long, but he never left your side. His eyes didn’t leave you for a single moment. In the clinic, they gave you a quick checkup, confirming you had a high fever, but it wasn’t anything too serious.

“We’ll prescribe you some antibiotics. You should rest as much as possible,” the doctor said, handing you the medicine. Min Ho, not wasting a second, helped you out of the place and guided you back to his apartment.

Although the fever didn’t go away completely, your body began to relax a little. The night approached, and exhaustion slowly overtook you. Min Ho settled by the window, his body leaning against the wall as he watched the city lights.

“Sleep,” he whispered to you. “I’ll be here.

You felt the weight of the fever, but the warmth of his presence gave you a sense of security. Finally, you fell into a deep sleep, with the soft sound of his breathing as your only companion.

Min Ho didn’t move from his spot. He only watched you while you rested, the concern still visible on his face. But as the minutes passed, his own eyes began to close, the exhaustion from all the care taking its toll.

In the end, both of you slept soundly, the fever slowly subsiding under the constant watch of someone who had shown, in every small gesture, what it meant to take care of someone.

[httpsdana]

can you write about reader asking kebab to star in her new music video as her male lead and him being not to confident about it plsss 😔

Spotlight~Kenan Yildiz

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who i write for

It started as a casual dinner conversation, the kind where ideas flowed freely, accompanied by laughter and clinking glasses. She was seated across from Kenan at their dining table, his brows furrowing slightly as she animatedly described her latest project—a music video for her upcoming single.

“I want it to feel authentic, like a real love story,” she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “The male lead should have that perfect mix of charm and vulnerability. Someone who’s real.”

Kenan nodded along, taking a sip of his drink. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out. Who’s the lucky guy?”

She leaned forward, her lips quirking into a mischievous smile. “You.”

He blinked, caught completely off guard. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” she replied, her tone firm yet playful. “Kenan, you’re perfect for this. You already know me better than anyone else, and our chemistry is exactly what I want to capture on screen.”

Kenan leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming nervously against the table. “I don’t know, aşkim. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m a footballer, not an actor.”

“You don’t need to act,” she countered, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. “You just have to be yourself. That’s what will make it special.”

Kenan hesitated, his gaze dropping to where their fingers intertwined with his. “What if I mess it up? What if I make you look bad?”

“You could never make me look bad,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “Besides, you’ve seen me in the studio, fumbling through takes and trying to hit the right notes. It’s okay to be unsure. That’s what makes it real.”

He chuckled at the memory of her cursing under her breath after a missed cue or an offbeat lyric. “You always make it work, though.”

“And so will you,” she replied confidently. “Please, Kenan. It would mean so much to me.”

His eyes searched hers, still unsure but visibly softening at the sincerity in her expression. “If it’s that important to you… okay. I’ll do it.”

She let out an excited squeal, jumping out of her chair and pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re going to be amazing, I promise.”

Kenan wrapped his arms around her, his nerves momentarily forgotten in the warmth of her embrace. “Just don’t laugh at me if I mess up.”

“I won’t,” she assured him, pulling back to look into his eyes. “But I might fall even more in love with you.”

His cheeks flushed, a rare but endearing sight, and he smiled despite himself. “Well, in that case, I guess I better give it my all.”

The filming began a week later. Kenan showed up to the set early, dressed casually in a white button-up shirt and jeans, looking equal parts nervous and out of place. The crew buzzed around, setting up cameras and adjusting lights, but his eyes found his girl immediately. She walked over, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

“Don’t worry,” she said, smiling up at him. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

The first scene was simple—just the two of them walking through a sunlit park, holding hands and exchanging soft smiles. Despite the simplicity, Kenan stiffened as soon as the cameras started rolling.

“Cut!” the director called out after the first take. “Kenan, relax a little. Don’t overthink it.”

Kenan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Easier said than done.”

She stepped closer, touching his arm lightly. “Hey, don’t focus on the cameras. Just on me, okay? It’s just us.”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly, and the next take went smoother. She led him through the motions, her hand squeezing his reassuringly every now and then.

The next scene, she had to rest her head on his shoulder as they both sat under a tree, laughing softly at nothing in particular. Between takes, she teased him to ease his nerves.

“See? You’re a natural,” she said after a particularly good shot.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “If by natural, you mean awkward, then sure.”

A specifically hard scene came up, it was the emotional climax—set in a softly lit room, where the two of them had to act out a moment of vulnerability, gazing into each other’s eyes as if confessing unspoken feelings. The director explained the setup, and Kenan looked like he wanted to bolt.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered, brushing her hand against his. “Just think of it as... us, but with cameras watching.”

“Comforting,” he muttered dryly, but he didn’t pull away.

When the cameras rolled, something clicked. His nervousness melted as he focused on her, his eyes softening in a way that made her heart skip. The way he reached for her hand, the way his thumb brushed against her knuckles—it felt so natural, so real, that the crew barely had to give any direction.

When the director called, “Cut!” applause erupted on set.

Kenan blinked, looking around in surprise. “Was that... good?”

“Good?” she repeated, laughing as she threw her arms around him. “Kenan, that was perfect!”

He wrapped his arms around her, a sheepish smile on his face. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” she insisted, pulling back to look at him. “You were incredible. You made this everything I imagined and more.”

The director then approached them both with a clipboard, explaining the next scene. “This is where you kiss. It needs to feel natural and romantic, like you’ve just realized how much you mean to each other.”

Kenan stiffened beside her, his hand instinctively finding hers. “A kiss?” he murmured, leaning closer to her.

She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s just a kiss, Kenan. We’ve done it a million times before.”

“Yeah, but not in front of cameras and a whole crew,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing.

She squeezed his hand gently. “remember it’s only us, okay?”

The set was cleared of unnecessary crew members to make the moment more private, but the presence of the cameras still loomed. The scene was set on a dimly lit balcony, fairy lights twinkling overhead as the two of them stood close, the city skyline glowing in the background.

The director called, “Action!”

She stepped closer to Kenan, her eyes locking with his. She could feel the tension in his body as he inhaled deeply, his jaw tightening slightly. To help him relax, she reached up and rested a hand on his chest, his touch gentle but grounding.

“Just you and me,” she whispered, barely audible but enough for him to hear.

His shoulders eased, and his eyes softened. Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. The kiss started hesitant, almost shy, but the familiarity between them guided the moment. Her fingers slid up to his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

Kenan’s hand rested at her waist, his grip firm but comforting. The world around them seemed to blur—there were no cameras, no crew, just the two of them sharing a moment that felt far too real for a scripted scene. When the kiss ended, his forehead rested against hers, his breathing slightly unsteady.

“Cut!” the director called out, sounding pleased. “That was perfect!”

Kenan pulled back, his ears tinged red as he avoided eye contact with the crew. He turned to his girlfriend, his voice low. “That didn’t feel like acting.”

She laughed softly, brushing her fingers against his cheek. “That’s because it wasn’t.”

Kenan smiled, his confidence growing as he realized how much he had nailed the moment. “Maybe I’m not so bad at this after all. But don’t get used to this—I’m not quitting football anytime soon.”

“Fair enough,” she replied, laughing softly. “But you’ll always be my favorite male lead.”

[mythmerth]

from my February and March readings, I’ve collected a few more merlin fic recs for the people…

ive been primarily rereading in March so I’d have to change up the style anyways xoxo here’s both!

For favorite long (80k+) fic I’m absolutely choosing The Scroll and the Sword by Elizabeth. The modern-with-magic and haters-to-maybe-you’re-not-bad-shit-I’m-in-love adventure of it all, I was thoroughly enjoying this one from start to finish. The plot hooks you, the romance gets you kicking and screaming, what else is needed ykwim. It also captures the brilliant merthur idiocy, really a gem!

For favorite mid length (30k-80k) fic I’m going with A Language With No Words by neptunesyellowsands! It’s a really great canon era post finale Arthur survives fic. The gradual acceptance of magic and grappling arthur does is just *chefs kiss*. It also has a sequel which was really great as well- just a really enjoyable series!

For favorite short fic (<30k) I’ll choose And He’s Still Left With His Hands by witchmd13! It was so beautifully written and I love the detail of focusing on hands in various scenarios throughout the story. It’s canon era, very soft and such a pleasant read plspsls check it out

since I’ve been rereading so much, I’m gonna do a shorter list of rapid fire novel reads and then another one of favorite rereads~

novel-

At the end of the world by b92morgan was a unique take on omegaverse soulmatism with a lot of lore and plot to back it up. not really canon era, not really modern, somewhere in the middle!

If you like your ouchie fucked up fics, Shackled by Obsessionist may fit the bill. It’s canon era and painful and pay attention to the tags cause it definitely keeps getting worse before it gets better, but still a good read!

rereads-

Following the beast by Footloose is following the fucked up trend in a different way. you just don’t get this kind of fucked up BAMF merthur often, morality is a bit lost here. Modern era with lots going on, and watch the tags cause even though Arthur’s the actual antichrist and earns the title in every respect he still has quite the age gap with merlin

My way home is through you by evaelisaa and Leandra is another great modern-turned-canon era fic. I love the transformation merlin especially goes through as he realizes where he belongs. the first kiss scene gets me screaming every time

The Dragon Rises by Footloose is an all-time favorite. It scratches the canon era itch but technically isn’t. Unique plot, incredible lore, the merthur in it is pure excellence, I’d recommend it to damn near anyone

Though Love Like Light Can Flee by horsecrazy is a wonderful modern era read. like these idiots, absolutely incredible the way they dance around each other Ten Million stars out of five

that’s it for now! sorry for the format switch but I hope it still works <3 god I’ve been busy and offline and this has been in my drafts but tehe I’m still hereeee!

psa I’ve been getting the itch to write again and it’s been distracting me like crazy… if I posted snippets of original work would that be welcome? 👀 let me know! I love to do more writing too but it slows down my reading… hmmm…

see you later for next months lists!!!

<< prev month next month >>

[greenfiend]

Analyzing the Letters within ST

and how they all hint at the possible letter revealed at the very end of the show

While we all love to speculate on Mike’s possible hidden love letters to Will, revealing his true feelings and them finally getting together; the show is hinting toward something else. Something more heartbreaking.

CW: death.

The first significant letter within the show is Hopper’s letter for El. In it, Hopper reveals his feelings that were difficult to verbally express. It’s also worth noting that Hopper was seen as dead at this point. So, two important things to note:

Communication between one “dead” character and one alive character.

Revealing feelings that were difficult to express in person.

The next time we see a letter is El’s letter to Mike. This one is mostly lies. El makes her time in Lenora sound more pleasant and palatable. Some things to note:

While El is alive, she moved to “the west” which symbolizes death (where the sun sets).

El creates a “watered down” story of her true life in Lenora. The truth was too unpleasant.

Next we are given some information about Mike’s letters addressed to El. Mike is unable to write “Love, Mike” and instead writes “From, Mike”. Most of us can understand that this is clearly set up for the introduction of a “Love, Mike” letter addressed to someone.

We also see Will bring up the fact that Mike did not write him any letters. Whereas he wrote El “a book of letters”. Mike is defensive in response stating “that’s because she’s my girlfriend, Will!”. Some things to note here:

A “book of letters” is a strange and unnecessary statement. The association between a “book” or story and letters is clearly made here. This is likely foreshadowing.

Mike associates letters with romance.

Also, while the build up for a “Love, Mike” letter has been established, there is now build up for a letter addressed to Will.

Next we have Max’s letters addressed to Billy, and her friends. Max attempts to give Lucas a letter but he refuses to take it and says “I don’t need a letter, I’m right here.” There’s a lot to note so I’ll start with Max’s letters for Lucas and her friends. Let’s breakdown the things to note:

Lucas saying he doesn’t need a letter because he’s “right here” is very relevant because it tells us that letters are only necessary if one person isn’t present. Also, Lucas saying he’s “right here” is a nod towards Will in the first season.

Max wrote these letters for her friends because she thought she was going to die. Another association between death and letters here.

Max later reads her letter to Billy and there’s so many things to note.

Billy’s name is also William. There’s a frame where we see his grave say “William” on it and we see another grave with “_YERS” written on it. AND the song “Letter to Willy” played during the scene. Clearly this scene is loaded with Will foreshadowing/subtext.

Billy is dead. Max expresses her feelings towards Billy “before it’s too late” aka before she dies too.

Max ends her letter with “Love, Max.”

Letter to Willy

This is the song that played when Max read her letter to Billy, but it also played during two other scenes.

During this scene, Mike expresses guilt over El being gone and him not going with her. Will validates his feelings and tells him that it’s scary to say how you really feel aka expressing one’s true feelings. This all occurs while they are in the middle of digging a grave for a man who died as a hero.

During this scene, Dustin informs Eddie’s uncle that Eddie died a hero. Some parallels are made with the time Mike told Lucas that Will was heroic in the very first episode.

Mike’s Windbreaker

It’s clear as day that the costume designer went the extra mile to add a pocket on Mike’s shirt that appears like a letter. That letter is also on his left side, so exactly where his heart is. Most of us are already aware of this fact, but it’s still very relevant here.

SO… with all that information, what can we decipher from all these clues?

There will be a significant letter written by Mike next season. It’ll imply romantic feelings. This letter will end in “Love, Mike”.

Will will be the recipient of a letter. As Will complained to Mike that he did not send Will any letters, that letter likely will be from Mike. The letter will start with “Dear Will”.

This letter likely will reveal true feelings that were difficult to express in person.

The death foreshadowing surrounding Will (the graves with his name on it, the dead William, burying the dead body, etc) and the association with letters being sent between one dead and one alive character likely means that: Will is no longer alive when this letter is written/received.

There may be a book or story attached to the letters.

This all leads me too…

Now before I breakdown what I believe fits into these blanks, I want to clear up a couple of things that have been brought up before:

“This letter was just revealed to be a letter from the ST writers to us fans during ST day years ago.” Yes that is true. However, it wouldn’t make sense for them to post it like this if that’s all it meant. That’s pretty lame to be honest. We know they love to be vague and cryptic with their clues of what’s to come in the show, why wouldn’t they be doing that here as well? Plus this letter fits perfectly with the set up I just described. Perfectly. I’ll explain that soon.

2. “This is… not about a couple”. Yes they said that but it’s incredibly vague. That could mean a lot of things. It could even simply mean they aren’t a couple yet within the show, or because one of the characters is no longer alive…

Now let’s properly break down the letter.

“anyway I think you’ll ____ sorry I couldn’t get it done ____”

These lines imply that the writer of the letter attached something to it. The writer likely thinks the recipient will like whatever they attached.

The writer then apologizes about something. The wording makes it seem like they’re apologizing about not completing whatever is attached on time. If time is what they’re apologizing for, this is likely Mike writing this. Mike has been associated with running late many times throughout the show.

This is my guess: “anyway I think you’ll like [the ending]. sorry I couldn’t get it done [on time]”

The next part is easy and was confirmed by the writers:

“but you mean so [much to me]”

Obviously whoever wrote this letter cares deeply about the recipient.

“and it’s been [so hard being without you]”

I guessed this part. The writer is making an excuse as to why they weren’t able to complete something on time. It makes sense that the writer was struggling from being away from the recipient and thus that was the excuse for the delay. This would make even more sense if the writer was struggling with grieving the recipient.

“hope this is [enough to] last until [we meet again]. Love, [Mike].”

The ���enough to” was simple enough to complete, not much else can fit in that context.

I guessed the “we meet again” because of many clues. Mainly because of the death foreshadowing surrounding Will and Mike, specifically: Will dying first followed by Mike. Also, the Russian code “when blue meets yellow in the west”. Going “west” symbolically means “to die” as the sun sets in the west. So, if I’m correct, and Will has passed on, then Mike will meet him again soon.

Now, the date “November 6, 1983” is there because…

The attachment is the complete story of the entire show, beginning on that very specific date. The book attached to the letter, or the “book of letters” if you will. Mike wrote the story, or rather finished the story for Will. He couldn’t “get it done on time” because Will likely passed on prior to the completion of the story. He wrote the story, which is the “watered down” version (like El's letter) of the true horrors he and Will experienced, and others too. The story was written so he and Will could survive everything in the end and become heroes. I talk more in depth about that theory here.

While the death foreshadowing is depressing and the temptation to ignore and dismiss it is high… it still does exist. It cannot be denied. But keep in mind, there may be some form of resurrection at play in the show, it’s not like they haven’t done something like that before.

[birdiewriteslit]

Hi ! I just love your writing ! ❤️ Also, I was wondering if you could write a story in which the reader is Thalia’s sister and dating Luke. The reader always thought that Luke liked Thalia and thinks that Luke only dates her because she reminds him of Thalia. She shares her doubts with Annabeth who tries to comfort her and Luke overhears their conversation. Then Luke talks to the reader about it reassuring he loves her for her and it’s all fluffy. Also, to add little angst, the reader has been traumatized by Thalia’s “transformation” and beats herself up thinking that it’s her fault that her sister is a tree.

thank you so much! sure, i can do this!!

luke castellan x daughter of zeus!reader

warnings: angst, self doubt, trauma, fluff at the end

sorry if this is bad i haven’t written angst in a hot minute

Your memory of the day you arrived at camp was still as vivid as it was when it happened. You, Grover, Annabeth, Luke, and your little sister were on the run from a horde of monsters, all of them attracted to the strong scent of the daughters of Zeus.

You were sprinting up the hill, breath ragged. Luke, Annabeth, and Grover were ahead of you. “We’re almost there!” Grover shouted. “Just keep running!”

You were exhausted, running for days with no help from any of your godly parents, but you had to keep going.

You looked back to make sure Thalia hadn’t fallen behind, but she had her shield up, showing Medusa’s face to the monsters that were catching up.

“We can’t outrun them!” she yelled. “I can slow them down, go on without me!”

Thalia started to run toward the monsters, but you grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you go. We can make it, please try to keep going.”

“I have to! Aegis will keep them at bay for a little while. It’s me they’re following,” she reasoned, her eyes stormy and unyielding.

“Thalia, don’t. They want me too. I’ll go instead, I won’t let you die for me,” you proposed desperately.

“You’re always doing things for me, let me do this for you. Let me repay my big sister.” She pulled her arm out of your grasp and turned to run at the monsters before you could stop her.

“Come on!” Grover yelled from the top of the hill, Annabeth and Luke now far in front of him. “They’re catching up!”

“I’m not leaving her!” you protested. Grover met you in the middle and grabbed hold of your arm, practically dragging you to camp as you shouted several curses at him. “Let me go!”

“I can’t. My mission is to get you across that border, and I’m not letting two of you die for the rest of us.” Grover was gritting his teeth, struggling to keep hold of you as you made it across the boundary.

You watched in horror as Thalia jabbed with her spear and missed, the Fury’s whip coming down hard and hitting her over the head, knocking her to the ground. She didn’t get up.

The biggest lightning bolt you’d ever seen struck the ground, sending the hellhounds into a panic. The monsters retreated, half victorious, as they only managed to kill one of you.

From the place where Thalia died, a large pine was growing rapidly out of the ground, and a magical force field spread across the woods, strengthening the border you just crossed.

Luke grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to turn away from the scene. His eyes were cast to the ground. He couldn’t look. “Come on,” he said, his voice breaking.

You walked past the strawberry fields with Luke’s arm around your shoulders keeping you stable. You couldn’t say anything. You knew that if you did, you would break down.

Annabeth was sobbing beside Grover, who was leading the three of you to the Big House, where Chiron stood on the porch, looking solemn. You weren’t even shocked by his centaur form. The image of Thalia’s body hitting the ground was still replaying in your mind.

You woke with a start, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Five years later, and you still had nightmares like this. It was always the same scene over and over. You could never escape that night.

You slowly sat up in your bed, pulling the covers back and placing your feet on the cold marble floor. You rubbed at your eyes, sighing as you knelt at your father’s statue in the middle of the cabin.

You never shared this space with Thalia, but you missed her like you had. Sometimes you would dream of her and you when you were small, and you would expect to wake up and see her asleep on the other side of the room.

You stared into the reflecting pool around the statue, barely recognizing who was looking back at you. The girl in the water was tired, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

Looking up at your father’s carved face, you felt that familiar feeling of resentment. He had never helped you. When you were on the run, the only gift he gave was weapons for you and Thalia to defend yourselves with.

After you were claimed, it was like you never existed to him. He never answered your prayers, and he was never there for you when you needed him.

When you needed help facing Ladon on Luke’s quest, he was absent from the sky. You were forced to return to camp, two failures who learned to never rely the gods for help.

Luke was the only one you could relate to in that way. After that quest, you thought of each other differently. Finding that common ground changed your friendship into something more.

Sometimes you wondered if Luke saw Thalia when he looked at you. There would be moments where he would look at you like your sister was staring back, and he would get this sad glint in his eyes.

You certainly didn’t see her in your reflection. You’d looked for so long to find something that reminded you of her, but you could never find something good.

You had an aggression problem, which was about the only thing about you that resembled your sister. The only people you got along with were your boyfriend, Annabeth, and Grover.

Everybody at camp stayed clear of you anyways, as they were afraid of what you might do to them. Of course, you were more powerful than the others, and they were scared of that.

The day was off to a rough start. You were fifteen minutes late for breakfast, and when you entered the pavilion, heads turned. You were used to getting stared at, so you were able to ignore it.

You ate by yourself, keeping your head down. After breakfast, your first activity of the day was Ancient Greek with Annabeth.

You were reading out a boring passage to her when she stopped you at the end of a paragraph. “Are you having nightmares again?” she asked tentatively.

You looked up from the book. “Why do you ask?”

“You were late to breakfast. You’ve been looking so tired this past week. I’m worried. Luke’s worried. He says you’ve been distant,” she analyzed.

You sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been having them again. It’s the same as it’s always been.” You rubbed your hands over your tired eyes. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

“You haven’t told Luke?”

“No, I don’t want to stress him out. Besides, he probably sees enough of Thalia in me. Honestly, I think that’s why he’s with me. We all lost her that night, and he just needs something to remind him of her,” you confessed gloomily, picking at the corners of the pages.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What are you talking about? Luke has liked you as long as I’ve known you. Thalia meant a lot to him, but you’re different from her. You mean something different to him.”

“Do you really think that’s why I’m with you?” Luke said, rounding the corner of the porch and making himself known. He had a hurt expression on his face.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Annabeth said awkwardly, standing up from her chair and hurrying away from the Big House.

“Luke, I-“

“I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but you can’t really think that.” He sat down next to you and pulled your hands away from the book pages. “Annabeth’s right, I’ve liked you forever. Thalia was like a little sister to me. The only time you remind me of her is when you get angry, and I’m not with you because of your anger,” he reassured, trying to make you believe him.

“Why are you with me?” Your voice came out small, and you were afraid of what he would say.

He shook his head, taking your face in his hands. “So many reasons. You’re smart, brave, and resourceful. You’re strong and beautiful. Honestly, you could name anything you don’t like about yourself and I promise you that I would love you regardless.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” he said sincerely.

You took a deep breath, ready to be honest with him. “In my nightmares, I see us on the night Thalia died. I see the moment she slipped away from me and I left her to fight on her own. I’m such a bad sister,” you admitted, voice breaking a little.

Luke looked pained at your words. His thumb was quick to wipe away a tear that had fallen. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Thalia was stubborn, once she got an idea in her head she wouldn’t let it go. You know that. If we let you go too, we would’ve lost you both. We couldn’t risk that.”

You were silent, taking in his reasoning and knowing that he was right. You leaned forward and kissed his lips softly. “Thank you, Luke,” you said quietly, resting your forehead against his.

“Of course.” He pushed a stray hair behind your ear. “Do you want me to sleep in your cabin tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.” Luke pulled away and smiled at you. “What do you say we go zap some Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” You grinned, already feeling much better.

[districtunrest]

ONGOMGOMGOMG. (share thoughts. any n all. you know i need to know. PLEASE!)

HAHA sorry. anyway:

I didn’t really like it and I’m sad about it. ☹️ even though there were some interesting ideas and cool new characters, I was taken out of the story too much to fully enjoy them. it read to me like the laziest (most rushed? least edited?) yet most forced storytelling of the series, which sucks bc it’s supposedly the REAL backstory of my favorite character. but I just couldn’t shake my doubt while reading that this was what we and Katniss were missing all along. too many details (that I memorized by heart as a tween and have made everyone’s problem since) didn't match up, even with the card-stacking*. so I just don't believe this was always the intended ‘real’ story when it’s so hidden from the trilogy... imo, SC went back to it with a mission statement in mind after recent current events (and, more tellingly, after Ballad) and did her thing. which is fine, that's her right - it's just, when this whole book seems more like a writing workshop thought experiment than the intended backstory, I will treat it as such. bc as it stands, all the callbacks & connections & Everlark parallels in the world cannot replace Katniss & Peeta watching the highlight tape of his Games, Haymitch telling them what he did was “almost but not quite” as bad as them with the berries, Katniss finally understanding who he is in that moment, and Haymitch later admitting the loss of his loved ones were because of "that stunt [he] pulled with the forcefield" (which is. simply not true anymore with all of his stunts in and out of the arena). like say no more, that’s good enough for me! it’s what I prefer and what I find more compelling than what’s revealed/subverted in Sunrise. and tbh that discrepancy makes Sunrise unfaithful, at least in my eyes, for all it relies on references to the rest of the series. 

now, obviously I had mixed feelings about this prequel in the first place, and my concerns/reservations mounted with each excerpt, only to be confirmed now... but I did try, okay!?? haha I’d told you and several others privately that I really wanted to like this book and I was willing to set aside my gripes if it was good - but it had to actually be good! instead, the book was exactly what I was afraid it was going to be *and* suffered a drop in quality. I found the narration underwhelming, dumbed down and repetitive, and not evocative of Haymitch's voice. even things I thought there was NO WAY would actually happen and I was just being paranoid - but then they did, lmao. like, it was a letdown for me personally *and* it didn’t even do it well enough where I could at least respect it and oblige, lol

overall, it was just too off for me. by answering and explaining so much, it ended up taking away a lot of the trilogy's charm and intrigue - and did so in a way that left a bad taste in my mouth. it made me view Ballad in a more negative light, too, tbh. so I think going forward I’ll just consider it a weird spinoff that is secondary to the main/trilogy canon. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(some more Haybitching under the cut)

tbh, what guts me the most is what SC chose to do with Haymitch’s voice & character, where she watered him down to what he needed to be for this lesson & this plot. it’s frustrating that the dangerous, cunning, arrogant boy that Katniss sees in the highlight reel and can easily recognize in adult Haymitch is all an act. the character we thought we knew is not present here, sacrificed to make yet another point about propaganda, and that’s a crying shame. and his deterioration in the final chapters is so underwhelming (as are the death scenes 🫣) - I've read that same story countless times but told better by people who love the character as is and weren't on a time crunch for a movie deal, I guess.

Sunrise!Haymitch skews shockingly immature and moralistic and hates the idea of being a sarcastic, selfish “rascal." but since when are we calling surviving and fighting to get home in an unthinkable situation selfish? that’s now assumed in Sunrise’s logic, where instead having a ginormous alliance against the Careers with no exit plan (big ‘WHAT IF ALL THE TRIBUTES BANDED TOGETHER AND DIDN’T FIGHT?’ energy) is much smarter and nobler than going it alone and heading in one direction to get to the edge for no reason other than bc nobody had tried it before and trilogy!Haymitch, we know, is an out-of-box thinker & strategist. I know he & Ambert were operating under the notion that they were going to lose no matter what and had their own plans (which. hmm) but it was just so oddly accepted by the Newcomers, too, who had no such threat from Snow. they were so willing to be selfless martyrs and band together when they all know at the end of the day there can only be one survivor - which was heartening in a way, sure, but it almost seemed trite? and again, needlessly moralistic in an established world like Panem, where these things happen every year...? not even self-righteous (Katniss' words but with Haymitch's backing!) Peeta 'not a piece in their games' Mellark thought so narrowly. Idk. I might have to mull that one over more. but anyway, then Haymitch trying to rescue Maysilee is turned into a mini redemption arc in post, when all it was in the first place was a glimpse into his protective & caring nature underneath all the bravado, which was surely part of Katniss’ deepening understanding of him. but Sunrise wasn’t interested in exploring that, either, or even honoring it. okay

and I can’t get over how SC had to kind of retcon the final pages of Mockingjay to fit Haymitch’s epilogue into it, which didn’t help how it already rang so hollow for me, I hate to say. it’s not even done well, containing the most rushed, wrap-up-everything-before-the-deadline writing I’ve ever seen from SC (and it STILL doesn’t read like Haymitch’s voice to me :/). some things can just be; they don’t need some big, loaded, tragic explanation. Haymitch can glibly call Katniss ‘sweetheart’ once, bc she’s been sullen & hostile to him and he is in fact sarcastic (the horror!), only for it to go on to become an actual term of endearment by the end - like, that’s lovely in and of itself. why weigh it down further? who asked for that? I know I didn’t. 

most insignificantly & pettily of all: geese do mate for life - as in monogamously, meaning they stay together until one of them dies. then, they mourn and find another mate. just putting that out there, lmao

*how tf was Haymitch able to kiss his token and set up a bomb and throw it over the edge and put his token back when we know he was convulsing from shock by the end? to where Silka was able to start staunching her wound as she waited for him to die? if him going into shock was taken from footage anytime after, the arena would've been quaking/on fire around him?? Idk fam. it just feels off.

[its-avalon-08]

God I love your stories ! Do you think you could write a story about daniel and the reader who are a couple, maybe the reader is the daughter of a great f1 driver who died in an accident when she was little. So when Daniel has a pretty serious crash and is taken to the hospital, she takes the first plane to come see him and all her past traumas come out...

can't do this again (dr3)

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, mentions of crash, loss, death of father, tears, fluffy ending

Y/N sat on the plush couch in her living room, the television casting flickering lights across the room as the Formula 1 race roared on. Daniel was leading the pack, his skill and precision evident with every turn. She had always loved watching him race, despite the anxiety that knotted her stomach every time he took to the track.

But then, it happened.

The camera cut to Daniel’s car, spinning out of control, crashing into the barriers with a sickening thud. The commentators’ voices turned frantic as they described the scene, and Y/N felt her world tilt on its axis.

It was just like her father’s crash. The same helpless feeling, the same gut-wrenching fear.

Without another thought, she grabbed her phone, booking the first flight to the city where the race was held. Her heart pounded, memories of her father’s fatal crash flooding her mind.

She was just a child then, sitting in her mother’s lap, watching her father’s car crash into the barriers, flames licking at the wreckage. She remembered the cold, sterile hospital room, the smell of antiseptic, and the tears that never seemed to stop.

Hours later, she rushed into the hospital, her legs trembling as she found Daniel’s room. Her breath hitched at the sight of him, lying motionless on the bed, connected to various machines that beeped softly.

“Oh, Daniel,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she approached his bed. She took his hand in hers, feeling the warmth of his skin, a stark contrast to the cold fear gripping her heart.

”Daddy!” she had cried, her tiny hands gripping her mother’s, eyes wide with fear as they watched the doctors work frantically. Her father never woke up, leaving a void that never truly healed.

“Please wake up,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t go through this again.”

She sank into the chair beside his bed, her sobs shaking her entire body. “You have to fight, Daniel. You’re stronger than this. You promised you’d always come back to me.”

Her father had promised the same, whispering comforting words to her before each race. “I’ll be back, princess. I always come back.” But he hadn’t. He never came back.

Y/N rested her forehead on their entwined hands, the memories overwhelming her. “I love you so much,” she whispered. “I need you to wake up. I need you to be okay.”

Hours passed, her tears subsiding but the ache in her chest persisting. She kept talking to him, her voice soft and trembling. “Remember our first date? How you took me to that tiny Italian restaurant and we got caught in the rain on the way back? You wrapped your jacket around me, and we laughed like we didn’t have a care in the world.”

Her father had done similarly, setting her on his shoulders as they walked back from a race track, the rain pouring down but their spirits high. They had laughed together, her father’s hand warm and reassuring in hers.

“Please, Daniel,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Don’t leave me. I can’t go through this again. I need you here with me. I need you to wake up and smile at me, to tell me everything will be okay.”

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the hospital window, Daniel stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. Y/N gasped, her heart leaping with hope. “Daniel? Can you hear me?”

He turned his head slowly, his eyes finding hers, filled with pain but also with recognition. “Y/N,” he croaked, his voice raspy. “What… what happened?”

Tears of relief streamed down her face as she kissed his hand. “You had a crash, but you’re going to be okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

Daniel squeezed her hand weakly, his gaze softening. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She shook her head, leaning closer. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. I can’t lose you, Daniel. I can’t lose you like I lost my father.”

His eyes filled with understanding and determination. “I promise, Y/N. I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll always come back to you.”

And in that moment, Y/N knew that while the scars of her past would never fully heal, she had found someone who would help her carry the weight, someone who would always come back to her, no matter what.

a few hours later

Y/N sat by Daniel's bedside, carefully feeding him small spoonfuls of soup. Each movement was tender and deliberate, her eyes never leaving his face. Daniel watched her, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the pain that lingered in his body.

She took a deep breath, her voice gentle but filled with emotion. "Daniel, I don't think I've ever told you just how much you mean to me. How much I love you."

He looked at her, his eyes locking with hers. "I know you do, Y/N. But hearing you say it… it means the world to me."

She smiled, her eyes welling up with tears again. "When I saw your crash on TV, it felt like my heart stopped. It brought back all the memories of my father, of losing him so suddenly. I was so scared, Daniel. I was so scared that I might lose you too."

Daniel reached out, his hand weakly grasping hers. "I'm here, Y/N. I'm right here."

She nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "I know. But I need you to understand just how much you mean to me. You're my rock, my safe place. You bring so much light into my life, and I can't imagine a world without you in it."

Flashbacks of her father filled her mind. The way he used to scoop her up and spin her around, his laughter echoing in their home. The way he’d tuck her into bed at night, reading her favorite stories until she fell asleep. And the way he’d always come back from his races, smiling and lifting her into his arms.

"You’re everything to me, Daniel," she continued, her voice breaking. "You make me laugh, you make me feel safe, and you make me believe in love again. I never thought I could feel this way after losing my dad, but you… you changed everything for me."

Daniel’s eyes softened, tears gathering at the corners. "Y/N, you’ve changed my life too. I think about you all the time, especially when I’m on the track. You’re my inspiration, my reason to keep pushing. Even when I crashed, my last thought before I hit the barriers was you. I was thinking about you, about how much I love you and how I wanted to come back to you."

She fed him another spoonful of soup, her hands trembling slightly. "I need you to be careful, Daniel. I can’t go through that kind of pain again. I can’t lose you. I need you to promise me that you’ll take care of yourself, that you’ll come back to me every time."

He nodded, his gaze intense and filled with determination. "I promise, Y/N. I’ll be more careful. I’ll do everything I can to make sure I come back to you. Because I love you more than anything. You’re my everything."

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Thank you, Daniel. For everything. For loving me, for being there for me, for giving me hope."

He smiled weakly, his hand caressing her cheek. "And thank you, Y/N, for being my light in the darkness. For giving me a reason to fight, to come back. I love you more than words can ever say."

As she fed him another spoonful, their eyes met, and in that shared moment, they both knew that their love was stronger than any fear or trauma. It was a love that could withstand the darkest of times and emerge even stronger on the other side.