#All that I ask is for the chaos to stop and for us to move on. Please.
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kateschi · 22 hours ago
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get them fangirls away!
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synopsis: katsuki’s greatest battle isn’t on the field—it’s surviving relentless fangirls. good thing he has you to shield him
pairing: secondyear!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
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katsuki doesn’t run away from fights. he’s a fighter—loud, explosive, and always ready for a challenge.
but this?
this is different. this is a nightmare of his own making, and no amount of explosions is going to fix it.
“dynamight-senpai!” the shrill voices echo down the hallway like a siren’s call, and katsuki’s eye twitches.
his palms spark with irritation as he quickens his pace, trying to lose them in the maze of ua corridors.
but they’re relentless, chasing after him like their lives depend on it. why the hell don’t these brats know when to quit?
“dynamight-senpai! wait for us!”
he clenches his jaw. they’re like a pack of wolves, except these wolves ask for autographs and selfies instead of sinking their teeth in. still, they’re dangerous.
his eyes dart around, scanning the hallway for any possible escape route, when he spots you up ahead.
you’re leaning casually against your locker, completely unaware of the chaos barrelling toward you.
a plan clicks into place immediately.
he pushes off the ground, sprinting towards you with quick, desperate steps.
the frantic pounding of his footsteps catches your attention just as he skids to a stop behind you, ducking down to use you as a human shield.
“katsuki—what the hell are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide with confusion as you turn to face him.
“fangirls!” he hisses, crouching even lower behind you, his breath slightly ragged. his red eyes flicker toward the hallway entrance where the fangirls are rounding the corner, their faces lighting up the moment they spot him.
before you can ask any more questions, the first-years come to a screeching halt in front of you, out of breath but still buzzing with excitement.
they don’t even seem to notice you, their eyes locked onto katsuki who is half-hidden behind you like a kid caught in trouble.
“dynamight-senpai!” the leader squeals, pushing her way to the front of the group. “we’ve been looking all over for you!”
katsuki grits his teeth and curses under his breath, barely peeking over your shoulder. his hand grips your shoulder a little tighter, holding onto you for dear life.
“go away,” he growls, but his usual explosive tone is muffled by your presence, sounding more irritated than intimidating.
the fangirls, however, are undeterred. in fact, they seem even more excited by the sight of their idol so close—and apparently, within reach.
“we just want a picture, dynamight-senpai!” one of them pleads, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “just one, please?”
“no,” he snaps, but it’s lacking the usual bite. his eyes dart to yours, desperation flashing across his face for a split second. “damn it, why won’t they leave?”
you bite back a laugh. the mighty katsuki, hiding behind his girlfriend from a group of over-eager first-years. this is too good.
taking a step forward, you square your shoulders and block katsuki from view even more. “I think you heard him. he said no.”
the leader of the fangirls blinks, her enthusiasm faltering just a bit as she finally acknowledges your presence. “wait... are you...?”
you raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a knowing smirk. “yeah, I’m his girlfriend.”
the words hang in the air for a moment, and you can practically see the wave of shock that ripples through the group.
the girls exchange stunned looks, their expressions ranging from disbelief to awe.
“dynamight-senpai has a girlfriend?!” one of them whispers, her eyes going wide.
katsuki smirks as he straightens up a little behind you. “yeah, you heard her. my girlfriend. and if you don’t back off, she’ll beat your asses into the ground.”
you glance back at him, giving him a pointed look. “seriously? that’s your plan?”
“damn right it is,” he mutters, crossing his arms as if he’s made the smartest move ever. “they’re annoyin’ the hell outta me. figured I’d let you handle it.”
one of the girls in the back gasps, clutching her hands to her chest.
“wait, we didn’t mean to upset him! we’re just...we’re such big fans of dynamight-senpai! he’s so amazing!”
“yeah!” another chimes in, her eyes wide and pleading. “we didn’t mean any harm!”
you sigh, looking them over. they’re not bad kids—just... overly enthusiastic.
but katsuki is your boyfriend, and while you’re used to his temper, you’re not about to let anyone, even a group of fangirls, mess with him.
“look, I get it,” you say, your tone softening slightly, though you still keep it firm.
“you’re excited and all, but katsuki isn’t some kind of photo op. he’s just trying to get through his day. how about you give him some space?”
the leader looks embarrassed now, her earlier excitement faltering. “we didn’t mean to bother him...”
katsuki huffs from behind you. “you did.”
you glance at him over your shoulder, shaking your head slightly. “so helpful.”
he grumbles under his breath but stays quiet, letting you handle it. you turn back to the girls, offering them a small smile. “just...be respectful, okay?”
the leader nods quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “y-yeah, we’ll leave him alone. sorry for bothering you, dynamight-senpai and h/n-senpai.”
katsuki grunts, obviously relieved they’re finally getting the hint. the group lingers for a moment longer before they start shuffling away down the hall, their chatter much quieter now.
once they are gone, you turn to katsuki, raising an eyebrow. “so... hiding behind your girlfriend now? that’s a new one.”
he scowls, though the faint blush creeping up his neck was hard to miss. “shut up. I wasn’t hiding.”
you can’t help but laugh, nudging him with your shoulder. “sure, ‘cause using me as a shield isn’t hiding.”
“tch. you handled it, didn’t you?” he shoves his hands into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “better than blowin’ ‘em up.”
you smile, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “you’re lucky I’ve got your back.”
he grumbles something under his breath, clearly too stubborn to admit you were right, but he takes his hand out of his pocket to intertwine your fingers together.
of course, that isn’t without a side-eye when you grin.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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baigepueckers · 22 hours ago
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Nika Mühl X Reader
Beyond the Game
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The arena surrounds you like a heavy blanket. It’s a sound you’re used to a mix of cheers, whistles, and the squeak of sneakers on the court. But tonight it feels different. Heavier. More personal…maybe it’s because you’re facing the Seattle Storm and more specifically, her.
Nika.
You spot her as soon as you walk onto the court for warm ups. She’s sitting on the Storm bench, her brown hair pulled into a sharp ponytail her posture upright and alert. Her warmup jacket is loose over her shoulders, but you can still make out the slight bounce of her knee a telltale sign she’s nervous. It’s one of the little things you’ve picked up about her over the years, first as teammates and later as something more.
Your heart clenches and you force yourself to look away. You can’t afford distractions tonight.
The two of you met back at UConn, thrown together in the intensity of one of the best women’s basketball programs in the country. It didn’t take long for you to click. Nika’s fiery energy balanced out your quieter focus and her teasing always managed to get you out of your head when the pressure felt like too much. Over time, the late night study sessions and post practice hangouts turned into something deeper. You fell in love…deep and unshakable.
But love didn’t keep you on the same team. The draft came and went, and now you’re a Las Vegas Ace while Nika is across the country in Seattle. Different jerseys. Different cities. Different teams.
You hadn’t anticipated how hard it would be to face her on the court.
The first quarter flies by in a blur. Seattle’s defense is relentless and your team is fighting for every point. You catch glimpses of Nika on the bench, her eyes fixed on the game but every so often, they dart toward you. She doesn’t smile when you glance her way. She doesn’t need to. The way her gaze softens, just for a moment tells you everything.
The second quarter is more physical. You’re battling for position, driving into the lane when you can trying to keep your team ahead. You catch a rebound off a missed shot and bolt toward the other end of the court, the sound of your shoes pounding against the hardwood echoing in your ears. Somewhere in the chaos, you hear her voice…sharp and commanding as she shouts instructions to her team.
It sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve heard that voice a hundred times in practices, but this is different. Now, she’s an opponent.
By the third quarter, exhaustion is creeping in. The game is tight and the tension on the court is heavy. Every possession feels like a battle.. your body aches, but you push through. You always do. You’ve learned that from her…Nika, with her relentless fire.
The fourth quarter is where everything unravels.
You’re running hard, cutting toward the basket…when it happens. A Seattle forward steps into your path setting a blindside screen. You don’t see it coming. Her body collides with yours and the impact sends you flying backward. There’s no time to think, no time to react. The back of your head hits the court with a sickening thud.
Pain explodes behind your eyes, sharp and overwhelming. The world spins and the crowd’s roar becomes distant. You blink rapidly trying to clear the haze but all you can see are the harsh overhead lights and blurry shapes moving around you.
Through the haze, you hear your name.
“Y/N!”
It’s her. You know it’s her.
You manage to tilt your head just enough to see the Seattle bench. Nika is on her feet…her hands gripping the edge of her seat like she’s about to bolt onto the court. Her eyes are wide with panic, her mouth slightly open as if she’s holding back a scream.
She wants to run to you. You can see it in the way her body leans forward…as if the only thing stopping her is the weight of the game and the unspoken rules that keep her on her side of the court.
The trainers are beside you now asking questions you can barely process. “What’s your name? Can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?” Their voices are gentle but insistent. You try to answer but your attention keeps slipping back to her. To Nika, who hasn’t moved from her spot even though her entire body looks like it’s trembling with the effort to stay put.
You try to lift your hand a weak signal, something to let her know you’re okay…but it barely moves. She sees it anyway and her hands fly to her mouth, you can see the tears welling in her eyes.
You don’t know how much time passes before they help you to your feet. The crowd cheers as you’re led off the court…though the noise feels distant and strange. Your legs feel shaky and your head is pounding but you glance over your shoulder one more time.
Nika is still standing…still watching. Her hands are clasped in front of her chest now, like she’s holding herself together.
Back in the tunnel you’re taken to the trainer’s room for evaluation. Your head is spinning and the bright lights are making your eyes sting but all you can think about is her.
Your phone buzzes on the bench beside you. You reach for it, fumbling slightly as you try and unlock the screen…It’s a text from her.
Nika💗: Are you okay? Baby Please. Please tell me you’re okay. I can’t sit here anymore.
Your chest tightens and your eyes blur not from pain, but from the ache of knowing how much this is killing her. You type back with shaky hands.
You: I’ll be okay. Don’t worry. Play your game.
The response feels hollow but you know it’s what she needs to hear. You imagine her reading it…clutching her phone like it’s a lifeline.
The game finishes without you on the court. The trainers cleared you from anything serious…a mild concussion, bruises that will ache for days, but nothing crazy. The anxiety in your chest hasn’t eased…you know your girl. You know she’ll be looking for you the second she can.
You’re just outside the locker rooms, every passing second dragging. Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you glance down at the screen.
Nika💗: Where are you? Are you still with the trainers? I’m coming to find you.
You barely have time to respond before you hear hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Nika rounds the corner, her hair damp from a rushed shower and her Storm warmup jacket thrown hastily on. Her eyes are scanning the hallway frantic, until they land on you. She stops for a split second, and then she’s running.
Before you can say a word, her arms are around you pulling you into a hug so tight it almost knocks the air out of your lungs. She buries her face into the curve of your neck, her breath warm and uneven against your skin.
“You scared the hell out of me, ljubav.” she whispers her voice full of emotion. “I thought…I didn’t know if you were okay. I couldn’t come to you. God, I hated it.”
Her words spill out in a rush like she’s been holding them in since the moment you hit the court. You wrap your arms around her pulling her even closer. The tension in her body is noticeable and her hands are clutching at your jersey.
“Baby,” you murmur, your own voice thick with emotion. “I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay.”
She pulls back just enough to cup your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks. “You don’t look okay,” she says, her voice soft. “You’re pale, and your head God, your head…”
“Gee thanks babe” you tease her while covering her hands with your own. “The trainers cleared me. Nothing serious…just some bruises and a small concussion.”
Her jaw tightens and for a moment, she doesn’t say anything. Her hands drop to your shoulders, holding you at arm’s length as her gaze hardens. “Don’t you ever do that to me again Y/N, you hear me?”
You blink at her surprised by the sudden intensity in her tone. “Do what?”
“Scare me like that” she says, her voice sharp but cracking under the weight of her emotions. “I couldn’t move, baby. I couldn’t come to you when you were lying there and it was killing me.”
Her words hit you, the raw vulnerability in her voice. You reach for her hands, squeezing them tightly. “Nika, you didn’t do anything wrong. You were there in the way I needed you to be. I saw you. I felt you.”
She frowns and she shakes her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “You’re not allowed to get hurt like that again” she mutters, her voice quieter now but no less serious. “I don’t care if we’re on opposite teams. I’ll get ejected if I have to. I’ll run across the court next time.”
You chuckle softly, the sound broken but genuine. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”
Her lips press into a thin line but you can see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners. “You think I’m kidding babe?”
“I know you’re not.”
The two of you fall silent for a moment, the noise of the arena and the post-game chaos fading into the background. She leans down to kiss you, it’s passionate and intense. It makes you melt against her.
“I love you,” she says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know that, right?”
Your chest tightens, and you nod, leaning into her touch. “I love you too. Always.”
She swallows hard and pulls you back into her arms, holding you like she’s afraid to let go.
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welcome-to-green-hills · 2 years ago
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Oh buddy... please take care of yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for.
I will, I promise.
I believe a break is in order. If I’m panicking to check my inbox and DMs everyday—even with deactivating the anon feature and restricting who can DM me—then it’s a sign that I need to take a step back.
I’m terribly sorry for taking a temporary leave. I just need some time off before fully returning again.
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etheries1015 · 1 year ago
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We share the love language of biting. Now imagine TWST beatsfolk has that as an actual sign of courting. Like you're chilling with Leona, not dating or wooing him, and then you bite his cheek in affection. And all of Savanaclaw is shocked because among them, it's the same as i.e. proposing marriage. The utter chaos XD
OHH MY GOSSSHHH YOUR BRAIN >>> I LITERALLY LOVE THIS SO MUCH??? HAHAHA SODEFHSELKJD i'm gonna expand on that for a few characters...
Accidentally courting them
General warnings: Gender-neutral reader, not really proof read lol. Obvious Malleus and Lilia favoritism <3 I also decided that they ARE dating in this scenario, I think its cuter that way in my head heuheu
Featuring: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Malleus, Lilia, ... and Rook HAHA.
TW: none! Just a bunch o' fluff of biting your non-human lover without realizing it was a sign of courtship <3
Leona
It was a typical day for Leona. You two were sitting in the lounge where most of the other students lingered, Leona becoming rather... possessive as of late. Instead of resting in his bedroom away from prying eyes as you had requested from your lover, he ignored all your feeble cries requesting privacy. Instead, he holds you in his lap without worrying what others are thinking. A form of showing others you were his, and his alone. You were conflicted in your feelings, staring at him. His eyes were closed, but he could feel your gaze burning into his head.
"How long are you-" Then it happened. You gave in. You gave his cheek a bit of a nibble. All of the sudden the chattering stopped, all eyes were on you, before they start patting Leonas back and giving him congrats while a few seemed to pull presents right out of their asses.
"Wha- what's going on?" Leona grumbled with a light blush before growling and pushing the face of someone who tried to hand him another gift.
"You all look like idiots! You know biting means something different to us. Don't be dumb." Okay, now you were extra confused. Seeing your utter ignorance, Leona sighed.
"Biting in our land is a sign of courtship, herbivore." ...Oh. You blush deeply and hide your face in his chest, Leona looking away flustered and ruffling your hair.
"Try again in a few years, and I just might bite you back."
Ruggie
You were walking down the halls with your boyfriend when suddenly you had the urge to just...bite him. an overwhelming sense of love and affection for the fact he had given you some of the bread he (probably legally) got ahold of. You smiled fondly at the bread and back at Ruggie before placing your mouth on the bulb of his shoulder, causing him to yelp in suprise and dropping his half of the bread.
"wha- huh?! What was that for?" He became flustered, bending over to pick up his bread and slowly move away from you with bright red cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows and hugged yourself, almost embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, I just...I dunno," Your cryptic and non specific response left him with his jaw open and eyes wide, spluttering out things like "We're still in school! I don't have the funds yet-" before a familiar fist came and knocked the back of Ruggies head. Leona stood there smiling in amusement and chuckling at you.
"I don't think they know what that means to us beastman, Ruggie." Even more confused then before, you asked for clarification.
"You just asked him to marry you with that bite of yours, herbivore." Now YOUR mouth was wide open, and Ruggie managed to get flee from the scene without much notice from you nor his senior.
Oh brother. You have a lot of communicating to do with that one.
Jack
You were sitting at the lunch table eating away at your food when you noticed...Jack's biceps. You marveled at the sight of his bulky arms- it's a wonder to you how he managed to become so strong and have the motivation to train all day. With a burst of admiration, instead of biting into your sandwich - you took a bite into his muscle. He yelped in suprise and just stared at you, face slowly turning red. Ace and Deuce laughed at his reaction, ready to ask you what was up before Jack took it upon himself to... well, flustered and rapidly spit-firing plans.
"W-we are still so young! Are you sure about this? I-i never knew our relationship was at this level!" He grabbed both of your hands and looked you in your (bewildered) eyes.
"If you're serious about this, I promise I will protect and love you for the rest of my life. But before we go ahead with the ceremony, I want you to meet my parents and get their blessings. Oh, and I need to get a stable job after we finish school first, too, so I can support you and our future. know we haven't talked about marriage before but-" You quickly cut him off in astonishment before crying out,
"MARRIAGE?! Jack, WHAT are you talking about?! I am absolutely not ready for marriage! What got into you?!"
...Queue Ruggie and Leona hysterically laughing at your utter confusion, reveling in the ignorance of it all for a few moments longer before explaining properly what you had just committed yourself unknowingly to.
Malleus
You were laying in the bed of Malleus Draconias's dorm, scrolling on your phone whilst his tail wrapped around your waist as he sat next to you reading a book. You sighed lightly and leaned your head back against the board of the mattress, turning slightly to look at your handsome fae lover. Your eyes then went down to his pale and perfect skin of his neck, the way it was free from all blemishes, smooth, and bright. Something about it made you want to taint it a light shade of red... He felt you shuffle slightly to adjust your body to be in just the right position where his neck was in full view. He glanced over to you feeling you wriggle free from his tails grasp, tilting his head seeing the look in your eyes crazed as you leaned over and just...chomped down on his collarbone.
You felt his tail twitch and his hands quickly throw the book he was reading aside to grasp your wrists, turning your body around and pinning you to the bed and carrassing your cheek with his tail.
"Biting..." He murmured, "Does this mean the same to humans as it does to Fae? You wish to be wed?" Your jaw dropped and cheeks took on a rosey hue, stuttering over yourself.
"W-wed?! I mean, I like to bite when I feel affectionate b-but marriage...I mean maybe one day b-but-"
"Biting in Fae culture is a sign of courtship and ownership. How brazen of you to mark me," he chuckled, "I shall take it you wish to own the next king of Briar Valley?" You could tell at this point Malleus was teasing you, something he picked up from the time you two have been dating.
Malleus could not help but return the favor by riddling your body with his own bite marks. Although he understood you perhaps did not have the intention of marrying him with your silly little form of affection, he knew in his mind with every bite that he was very serious about your future with him.
Lilia
Lilia already knew that biting in the human world did not mean marriage, yet was akin to something more of "cute aggression." So when you have the habit of biting him in the privacy of yours or his room, he knows you simply meant it as a form of affection, letting him know that you had an overwhelming sense of love for the old fae. He bit you back consistently on many occasions, it just seemed to be the perfect form of showing love for one another.
You didn't actually know it meant something much deeper, until you were in the diasomnia lounge and unable to control yourself as you grabbed Lilias hand and bit down gently on his wrist. You couldn't help it, he was being so entirely silly and loving towards you, that you couldn't help but show this public display of affection. Much to everyone else's dismay, however. Sebek stares at you with his mouth agape, sounds of disbelief escaping past his lips yet a sentence unable to form. Malleus as well seemed surprised at this.
"(y/n)," Malleus said, "You wish to marry Lilia?" You coughed at the sudden question and let out a feeble and awkward chuckle.
"I mean...I wouldn't mind one day, of course. We haven't really talked about it. Why the sudden question?"
"HOW DARE YOU," Sebek cried out after finally finding his words, "How dare you bite Lilia and be so insolent as to not move forward with your actions in dignity! YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR PROPOSAL-" Lilia started snickering, cutting Sebek off with a wave of his hand.
"It's quite alright, Sebek. Biting means something much different to humans than Fae, I suppose this is the first you had seen us put on a show of affection, hence your confusion." He turned to you, who had furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips at Sebeks sudden outburst.
"Biting, my dear, is a form of courtship to us fae. It is a sign of ownership," He chuckled.
"Why didn't you tell me that?!" You exasperated, "I mean, it wouldn't have changed anything I have done, but I would have been more careful about it... especially if it means something more to you," Lilia gracefully explained he understood it meant something slightly different to humans, before gently grabbing your hand and raising it to his mouth.
"Well, now that you understand what it means," He put your ring finger into his mouth and took a bite at the base,
"Would you like to bite me once more, my dear?"
Bonus:
Rook
You bit his arm and he immediately was on one knee.
"Was that a proposal? You know mon cheri, biting one affectionately is often a declaration of courtship-" You hit the top of his head and walked away from your interesting boyfriend.
"You're not a beastman or a fae! I'm never biting you again!" Your face red and folding your arms, turning away (ah, his cute tsundere lover.)
Oh woe is Rook! He begs and begs you to bite him more, he wants to be covered in your marks. It means you were claiming him as your own, right? RIGHT??
~~~
This was so fun to write DFSEFDSFIHSLDKJF thank you for the brain rot heuheuheueheueh
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thedensworld · 2 months ago
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Arrangement Crossed | K.Mg
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Pairing: Mingyu x reader
Genre: arrange engagement au
Summary: Mingyu started to enjoy the arrangement between him and you. What should he do?
Why do birds suddenly appear everytime that you near? Just like me i long to be close to you. - Close To You by Carpenters
Mingyu sprinted from his car, heart pounding, as he rushed toward the scene. One of the doctors at the hospital had mentioned that a fire had broken out in a Gangnam district building—your building. His breath was ragged as he pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Paramedics and firefighters swarmed the area, the flames now subdued, but the remnants of the fire still smoked in the air. A police officer stopped him from moving closer.
"My fiancée lives there," Mingyu gasped, his voice tight with anxiety.
Just as the officer held him back, he spotted you in the distance. You were casually walking, still in your pajamas, holding a half-eaten ice cream cone. Mingyu's eyes widened, watching as your expression changed the moment you took in the sight of your charred apartment building.
"My apartment!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with frustration as Mingyu hurried over to you.
Mingyu quickly examined you, scanning for any signs of injury. A wave of relief washed over him when he realized you had been safely outside while the fire ravaged your home. His tense shoulders relaxed for the first time since hearing the news.
"Where were you?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you seemed so unfazed by the chaos around you.
You blinked, a bit dazed by everything. "I was out for a meal..."
Mingyu glanced at his watch—half and an hour left before his surgery. "I'm glad you're alright. I’ll drive you to my place for now. I’ve got surgery in an hour."
The procedure went smoothly, but exhaustion weighed heavily on him as he sat in his office afterward. All he wanted was to go home and collapse into bed. But he hesitated, remembering that you were now at his apartment. The two of you had never really shared a space before, and the thought made him uneasy. After all, this wasn’t a typical engagement.
A year ago, your families had arranged for you two to be engaged. It was strictly business—a merger of two powerful legacies. Your family owned the hospital where Mingyu worked, while his family operated a successful medical and paramedical equipment company. It made sense for the families to align themselves, and though the proposal had taken him by surprise, Mingyu agreed to the engagement. What really caught him off guard was that you agreed too.
From what Mingyu knew, you ran a small homemade Korean restaurant near Seoul University. It wasn’t a huge enterprise, but it had a loyal customer base thanks to its affordable prices and excellent food. When news of the engagement broke, everyone speculated that your family needed Mingyu to step in and continue running the hospital, especially since you showed no interest in taking it over yourself. Mingyu knew he benefited a lot from this arrangement—more than he was willing to admit sometimes.
It was nearly morning when Mingyu finally arrived home, expecting you to be fast asleep. He took a quick shower, hoping to unwind before getting some rest. But when he stepped into the living room, he nearly jumped out of his skin. You were sitting on the couch, staring into the darkness.
"You scared me!" Mingyu muttered, his heart still racing. "Why aren’t you sleeping?"
You shot him a sharp look, your voice dry. "My house just burned down. How could I possibly sleep soundly?"
Ah, right. He had forgotten that small but important detail.
"Right... of course." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, make yourself at home. Feel free to use the kitchen if you want breakfast. I’ll head to bed."
Mingyu retreated to his room, hoping for some much-needed rest. But as he lay there, he found sleep impossible. His mind kept drifting back to the strange reality that the two of you were now sharing a roof. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—far from it. You were smart, independent, and capable. But the idea of being engaged, living together, and yet still feeling like you were strangers unnerved him in ways he couldn’t quite explain.
"Yeah, she's fine. She's alright. She's with me. I'll handle things with the building owner about her place. You don’t have to worry, sir." Mingyu reassured your father over the phone as he finished getting ready for work.
Despite having only gotten three hours of sleep, Mingyu needed to be at the hospital for an early morning meeting as the branch director. He had already filled your father in on last night’s fire, assuring him that you were safe and staying with him for the time being. Ending the call, he stepped out of the closet and made his way to the kitchen, where he was greeted by the sight of you preparing breakfast.
You were wearing one of his shirts.
"I’ll call you later, sir," Mingyu said quickly before hanging up, his eyes immediately locking with yours as he entered the kitchen.
You glanced at him briefly, then gestured for him to sit down as you placed the plates on the table. Mingyu couldn’t help but stare for a moment. You must have noticed because you spoke up.
"I didn’t have any clothes with me," you explained, a hint of self-consciousness in your voice. "I borrowed your shirt, if you don’t mind."
Mingyu nodded. "It's fine."
An awkward silence lingered for a moment before he asked, "Is there anything you need to do today?"
You thought for a second. "I definitely need to get some clothes first. And maybe check on the restaurant."
Mingyu thanked you for the food as you joined him at the table. He picked up his spoon, and as soon as he took a bite, his eyes widened in surprise. The breakfast was incredible. He had visited your restaurant a couple of times and knew you were the mastermind behind the recipes, having graduated with a degree in culinary arts. But still, he hadn’t expected his simple morning meal to taste this good.
"How about your belongings?" he asked between bites. "Anything important you need to check, like documents or valuables?"
"Luckily, I left all my important documents at my parents' place," you said, relieved. "But I do need to talk to the building owner about the fire and the damage."
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. "I’ll go with you."
You both finished breakfast in comfortable silence, and as Mingyu got up to leave for work, he thanked you again for the meal. Before heading out, he made a few calls, one to the aunt who cleaned his house regularly, asking her to pick up some women’s clothes for you, and another to the building manager to arrange an extra parking space for your car.
As he drove to the hospital, he reflected on the morning. He hadn’t expected starting the day with you to feel so... easy. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like if your engagement weren’t just a business arrangement. The thought lingered in the back of his mind as he went on with his day.
"Doctor Kim, thank you for the meal!" the nurses chimed in as Mingyu passed by the emergency room station during his daily rounds.
He blinked in confusion, unsure of what they were referring to. Then, he spotted the neatly packed meals from your restaurant sitting on the counter. You had sent food to his staff. It was thoughtful—something he hadn't expected but appreciated. Mingyu smiled and waved to the nurses, telling them to enjoy the meal before heading to his office, where he found a meal from your restaurant waiting for him as well.
Mingyu quickly shot you a text: Thanks for the meal, everyone’s enjoying it.
You didn’t respond, and Mingyu wasn’t surprised. He rarely texted you, and from what he had observed, you were just as busy as he was. He could understand if you weren’t glued to your phone all the time. Besides, it’s not like he was your priority when it came to messaging.
Over the past week of living together, Mingyu had noticed that the two of you had fallen into a quiet, predictable routine. You would both wake up early, have breakfast together, head off to work, return late in the evening, and go straight to bed. The cycle repeated itself day after day, with only a few short exchanges of "How was work?" or "Did you sleep well?" in between. It was strange to be living under the same roof, sharing meals, and yet feeling like you were still strangers in many ways.
That morning, you casually mentioned that you had signed the lease on a new apartment, not far from your restaurant.
"Do you want to go furniture shopping with me?" you asked over breakfast.
"Sure" Mingyu agreed without hesitation.
And now, here he was, sitting on his couch in a casual outfit, waiting to go furniture shopping with you. It felt like an odd thing to be doing with someone who was supposed to be his fiancée, yet didn’t quite feel like one. Still, Mingyu couldn’t shake the curiosity growing inside him—the thought of spending more time with you, learning more about you beyond the polite small talk and daily routine. He wasn't sure if it would change anything between you, but part of him wanted to try.
"This couch looks good. It fits a lot of people," Mingyu said, running his hand over the fabric as you continued to browse.
You shook your head, clearly unimpressed. "I don't get visitors."
Mingyu chuckled, leaning in a little closer. "What about friends? Boyfriend, maybe?" he teased with a playful grin.
You scoffed and held up your left hand, flashing the engagement ring in front of him. "In case you forgot, I’m engaged."
Mingyu’s eyes flickered to the ring, and he was momentarily struck by the sight of it. You always wore the ring, even though the engagement had been arranged. He, on the other hand, rarely wore his—only during major events or family meetings where it was expected. His profession didn’t really allow for accessories, so he often went without it. But seeing you wear it regularly was a subtle reminder of the commitment hanging between you both.
"Right, how could I forget?" he replied, smoothly continuing the conversation as if the ring hadn’t stirred something unspoken inside him.
Despite the casual banter, the moment felt a little heavier than it should have. He couldn't quite shake the realization that the ring—a symbol of their engagement—was more present in your life than his. It was a quiet declaration, whether intentional or not, that you were his fiancée.
When it came time to pay, Mingyu insisted on covering everything, even after your countless protests. He waved off your refusals, casually brushing them aside as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to take care of it.
"A rib for dinner?" Mingyu requested once he done paying. How dare you to refused.
*
After ten days of living together, Mingyu realized how quiet and empty his place felt without you around. He found himself looking for any excuse to see you, whether it was a quick text, a call, or even dropping by your restaurant. Without fully realizing it, the relationship between the two of you had begun to shift into something he hadn’t expected.
At this point, almost all of your staff knew him. They had even started referring to him as "the boss's handsome fiancé" every time he walked through the door. This month alone, he had visited your restaurant 8 times—sometimes for a meal, sometimes just to drive you home. And he was relieved that you didn’t seem uncomfortable with his presence. In fact, you appeared to be getting used to it, just as he was.
One afternoon, as Mingyu made his rounds at the hospital, he overheard a group of nurses whispering as he passed by, his name mentioned in their conversation.
"If she's the daughter of the owner, then she must be Doctor Kim’s fiancée, right?"
Mingyu, always the friendly type, chimed in with a grin. "I heard my name."
The nurses looked a bit startled but quickly filled him in. "Doctor Kim, the owner's daughter was brought into the emergency room after being assaulted. Isn't she your fiancée?"
What?
Mingyu’s stomach dropped. Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and immediately dialed your number. It rang, but someone else picked up.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
"Ah, Mr. Kim? She left her phone behind. She's at the hospital right now. A crazy person caused a scene and she got hurt."
Mingyu didn’t wait for more details. He bolted to the emergency room, his mind racing. When he got there, he hurried to the nurses’ station and asked for your whereabouts.
They directed him to a bed where he finally saw you—sitting up, your arm and head wrapped in bandages, while a doctor carefully tended to your injuries. Relief washed over him, but it was mixed with a surge of worry and anger at what had happened.
He approached you cautiously, his heart still pounding in his chest.
You looked up at Mingyu and smiled, a wave of relief washing over you as soon as you saw him by your side. As the doctor finished tending to your wounds, he greeted Mingyu and explained that you would need to wait for the results of the X-ray, as you had hit your head during the incident.
Once the doctor left, Mingyu turned his full attention to you, his eyes scanning over your injuries with a mixture of concern and relief. Without saying a word, he gently pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if making sure you were really okay.
"I'm so glad it wasn't worse," he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with emotion. He pulled back slightly to look at you. "What happened?"
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lingering tension from the day. "There was this drunk guy, making a scene in the restaurant. He was about to hit one of my staff, so I stepped in. I got pushed and my head hit the table. This," you pointed to your bandaged arm, "is from some shattered glass."
Mingyu sighed, his jaw tightening in frustration. "I'm calling the police," he said firmly, standing up as if ready to take action immediately.
But you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him. "It's already been reported. My staff handled it."
Mingyu paused, looking down at you, the worry still clear in his eyes. Though the situation had already been dealt with, his protective instincts were hard to turn off. He sat back down next to you, still holding your hand, as if to reassure himself you were safe now.
Your mother, the vice president, appeared in the emergency room, her presence commanding attention as she quickly made her way toward you. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, though you could see the worry etched in her expression.
"My heart dropped when I heard my daughter was in the emergency room. Are you okay, honey?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she reached out to touch your arm.
"I'm fine, Mom," you reassured her with a small smile, trying to ease her worry.
Mingyu stood quietly to the side, observing the exchange with a sense of relief. He was glad to see how close you were with your family, something he hadn’t really gotten to witness much before.
Then your mother turned her attention to Mingyu, who stood respectfully behind her. Her gaze softened as she acknowledged him.
"Thank you, Mingyu. I heard you’ve been taking care of my daughter, especially after she lost her apartment in the fire. And now you're here again," she said, her gratitude clear.
Mingyu bowed slightly, feeling the weight of her words. "It's my pleasure, ma'am," he responded with sincerity.
Your mother waved off the formality with a warm smile. "No need for 'ma'am.' Call me Mother. After all, you're part of the family now—my daughter's fiancé."
The words caught Mingyu a little off guard, though he masked it with a polite nod. He glanced at you, noticing the subtle shift in the room. The formality of your engagement suddenly felt a bit more personal, more real.
After spending some more time talking with your mother and assuring her you were okay, the X-ray results came back clear. The doctor recommended rest and monitoring for the next few days to ensure there were no lingering effects from the head injury. With that, Mingyu insisted on taking you home.
As you left the hospital, Mingyu walked by your side, his hand resting gently on your lower back as he guided you to the car. The day had been exhausting, but knowing that Mingyu was there gave you a strange sense of comfort. It was a feeling that was becoming more familiar lately.
The drive home was quiet, with Mingyu occasionally glancing over to check on you. You stared out the window, your mind still processing everything that had happened, from the fire at your apartment to the incident today. You felt the weight of it all, but at the same time, there was a sense of relief that you weren’t alone in dealing with it.
When Mingyu pulled into his apartment complex, he parked the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. You couldn’t help but smile at how attentive he was.
As you sat on the couch, trying to unwind from the long day, Mingyu hovered nearby, clearly still worried. You noticed his eyes flicking over to you every few minutes, as if checking to make sure you were really okay.
"You really should rest," he said, standing up and grabbing a blanket from the nearby chair. "I can see you're exhausted."
"I’m fine, Mingyu," you protested softly, though you knew you needed the rest.
He walked over, gently draping the blanket over you, his hands lingering for a moment as he looked down at you. “Just lie down, please. Doctor's orders,” he added with a small, teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood.
You sighed, giving in. The exhaustion was catching up with you, and the couch felt more comfortable with the blanket wrapped around you. As you shifted to lie down, Mingyu crouched down beside you, his expression softening as he watched you settle.
"Better?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
You nodded, pulling the blanket closer. “Yeah, better.”
He lingered for a moment before standing up again, running a hand through his hair. "I think I’ll stay out here with you, just in case you need anything.”
"You don’t have to—" you started to protest, but Mingyu was already grabbing a pillow for himself and setting it on the other end of the couch.
"I know, but I want to," he said simply, lying down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “We both need to rest anyway. This way, I’ll be right here if anything happens.”
You turned your head slightly to look at him, noticing how comfortable and natural he seemed lying next to you. The tension that had been hanging in the air for weeks felt like it was slowly fading, replaced by an unexpected sense of ease.
"Alright," you murmured, closing your eyes.
Mingyu lay there quietly, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence was steady, reassuring in a way that made you feel safe. After a few moments, he shifted slightly closer, his hand brushing against yours under the blanket. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you let the quiet warmth between the two of you settle in, realizing that maybe this arrangement between you wasn’t so bad after all.
As you drifted off to sleep, you could feel Mingyu relax beside you. The weight of the day slowly lifted, and with him lying there next to you, it felt easier to rest.
As evening approached, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light over the room. You and Mingyu had both woken up from your nap, feeling more rested but still shaken from the day's events. Mingyu sat up, glancing over at you with a gentle smile.
“Do you need anything?” he asked, his voice still soft but with a hint of concern.
You shook your head, feeling more at ease now. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for staying with me.”
He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually, I should probably check and clean your wound properly. Just to make sure it’s healing well.”
You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing it would be reassuring to have him take care of you. Mingyu moved to get a first aid kit from the bathroom, then returned and sat next to you on the couch. As he began to carefully clean the wound on your head, his concentration was palpable.
The proximity brought an unexpected intimacy. Mingyu’s breath lightly brushed against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. You glanced up at him, and for the first time, you noticed how dangerously close his face was to yours. The closeness made both of you acutely aware of each other, and suddenly, your cheeks flushed a soft pink.
There was a moment of shared awkwardness where neither of you knew quite what to say. Mingyu’s fingers brushed lightly against your forehead, and a nervous laugh escaped both of you simultaneously. The sound was light and shy, a clear indicator of the tension and the new feelings stirring between you.
Mingyu’s hands paused as he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest expression. The silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions. He seemed to be gauging your reaction, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
Without breaking eye contact, Mingyu leaned in slowly, and you felt a rush of anticipation. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stand still. Then, ever so gently, he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and soft, a simple yet profound gesture that spoke volumes.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving against his in a hesitant, exploring dance. The kiss deepened just slightly, filled with a mutual tenderness that neither of you had expected but both seemed to crave. When Mingyu finally pulled back, his expression was a mix of relief and uncertainty.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, a slight blush still visible on his cheeks. “I just... I needed to do that.”
You smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch his face. “It’s okay. I think I needed it too.”
Mingyu’s smile was more relaxed now, a genuine warmth in his eyes. He resumed cleaning the wound with a renewed calm, the previous tension replaced by a new, comforting closeness. As he finished, you both settled back into the couch, the space between you now filled with a quiet, shared understanding.
Mingyu set aside the first aid kit and took a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours. “I... I know this might sound sudden, but I think we need to talk about where we go from here.”
You looked at him with curiosity and a hint of apprehension, waiting for him to continue.
He shifted slightly, his expression earnest. “I know our relationship started out as a business arrangement, and things between us have been... different from what I expected. But after spending time with you, especially today, I’ve realized something.”
You watched him closely, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest.
“Mingyu, what is it?” you asked softly.
He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how we’ve been living together, how you’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t expect. And honestly, I’ve come to realize that I really like you. More than just as my fiancée. I want to be with you, not just because of our families or the arrangement, but because I genuinely care about you.”
His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity behind them. Mingyu reached out and took your hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.
“I want to start over,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want us to settle everything that’s happened and move forward. I want to take you out on dates, to spend time with you as someone I truly treasure. Not just because it’s what’s expected, but because it’s what I genuinely want.”
Your heart raced as you listened, his confession a mix of relief and excitement. It was clear that Mingyu wasn’t just fulfilling a duty anymore—he was speaking from the heart.
“I’ve felt the same way,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. “I never expected this arrangement to lead to something real, but it has. I’ve come to care about you a lot, and I’d like to see where this could go, too.”
Mingyu’s face brightened with a hopeful smile. “So, are we starting over then? Taking a chance on something that’s more than just an arrangement?”
You nodded, a smile of your own spreading across your face. “Yes, let’s start over. I’d like that.”
With a sense of newfound clarity and excitement, Mingyu leaned in and kissed you again, this time with a deeper sense of commitment. It was a kiss that promised not just the continuation of an engagement but the beginning of something much more meaningful.
As the evening drew on, you and Mingyu talked more about your hopes and plans for the future, feeling a sense of anticipation and warmth. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but now it was a journey you were both eager to take together, as partners who truly cared for each other.
*
“Because you’re handsome?” Mingyu chuckled softly, clearly amused by your answer. He had asked you why you accepted the engagement in the first place, and he hadn’t expected your candid response.
“Of course, you’re very handsome and attractive,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “But beyond that, I didn’t have anyone special, and I didn’t want to go against my parents’ kind intentions, especially when it didn’t harm me.”
“You didn’t go against it?” Mingyu asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
You paused to think before shaking your head. “No, not at all. I wasn’t planning to get married. I was just focused on my business.”
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. “How about now?”
“What do you mean now?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.
“Get married,” he clarified. “Do you want to get married?”
It had been three years since the engagement, and throughout that time, you and Mingyu had maintained your commitment to each other. Even though your parents had pushed for a wedding, you both had insisted on getting to know each other better. It was only after a year of engagement that you truly began to enjoy each other’s presence.
“With you?” you asked innocently, and Mingyu rolled his eyes with a chuckle.
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t with me. Do you want to get married to me?”
A scowl formed on your face as you stared at him, your emotions a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Are you proposing?”
Mingyu laughed, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Why? You don’t like it, baby?”
The scowl melted away, replaced by a warm and genuine smile. “I’d love to. I’ve been happy these two years with you. Why not be happy forever?”
Mingyu’s expression softened as he cupped your cheeks gently. “You’re really happy?”
You nodded, your eyes shining with sincerity.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. “Then I’m happy too.”
In that moment, it felt as if everything had come full circle. The uncertainty of the past had given way to a future filled with promise, and both of you were ready to embrace it together.
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chestersturniolo · 2 months ago
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NOT IT!
Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader
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In which; the lack of bunks on the tour bus result in you and matt sharing….
based on this request
••••••••••••••••••••
The tour bus hummed down the highway as you were perched on one of the small couches near the kitchenette, legs tucked under you as you and Matt exchanged quiet conversations.
It was the very first day of tour. It had been a long day—rehearsals, soundchecks, meet and greets—but somehow, the energy inside the bus hadn’t died down. Everyone was buzzing with post-show adrenaline.
Matt had just finished telling you a ridiculous story from a past tour, one that had you nearly in tears with laughter. You leaned against him slightly, feeling the warmth from his body as he smiled at you.
“What are we doing after the next stop?” you asked, as you fiddled with the hem of your hoodie.
Before Matt could answer, a loud groan came from the back of the bus where the bunks were.
“There’s not enough bunks for all of us!” Madi announced, standing up. “Someone’s gonna have to share”
You didn’t pay much attention to the ensuing debate, still focused on Matt. You were absorbed in whatever tangent he’d gone off on, his voice soft and relaxed, which made it easy to block out the rest of the world. The rest of the group, however, had shifted into a full-blown argument over sleeping arrangements, voices rising as everyone made their case for not wanting to share.
It wasn’t until you heard a chorus of “NOT IT!” from behind you that your attention snapped back to the rest of the group. You blinked in confusion, glancing around at the mischievous grins of your friends.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Matt asked, eyebrows raised.
Madi, looking all too pleased with herself, leaned over the back of the couch. “Everyone called ‘not it’—which means you two are sharing a bunk tonight”
Your eyes widened as you turned to Matt. “Wait, seriously?”
Nick laughed from his spot on the couch, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Yup. You snooze, you lose”
You exchanged a look with Matt, both of you caught off guard by how quickly things had spiraled. Sharing a bunk on this cramped bus wasn’t exactly ideal, especially considering how small the bunks were. They barely fit one person comfortably, let alone two.
“You guys really didn’t notice?” Madi teased, raising an eyebrow. “That conversation must’ve been really captivating” she sneered.
Matt chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess we were a little distracted”
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, though you couldn’t deny that you had been completely lost in whatever moment you were having with Matt. Now, though, you were faced with the reality of the situation—sharing a tiny space for the night.
“Well” you sighed, standing up. “Guess we’d better figure this out”
The bus rolled on, the buzz of the engine a steady background noise as you made your way to the bunks with Matt trailing behind you. There wasn’t much space, just a small, narrow mattress with a thin blanket and a pillow shoved into the corner. It looked…tight, to say the least.
Matt eyed the bunk and then glanced at you. “Ladies first?” he offered, a playful smirk on his lips.
You rolled your eyes but climbed in, turning on your side to make as much room as possible. Matt followed, shifting to lie on his back. There was barely enough room to move without touching each other, your bodies pressed together in the confined space.
~
It had taken a while to find a somewhat comfortable position—Matt on his back, with you tucked against his side, your head resting on his chest. You could hear his steady breathing, feel the warmth of him next to you, and despite the cramped space, the closeness was comforting.
The initial awkwardness had faded, leaving behind an unexpected calm. Matt’s hand rested gently on your waist, his thumb tracing lazy circles there, a motion you didn’t think he even realized he was doing.
“This is definitely not how I imagined ending tonight” you laughed
Matt chuckled, the sound vibrating against your ear. “Yeah, me neither-” he admitted, glancing down at you. “-though, I can’t really complain”
You tilted your head to look up at him. “Oh? You’re not miserable being squished in here with me?”
He smirked, shaking his head slightly. “Nah, it could be worse. I could be stuck with Chris. He takes up twice the space”
You laughed softly, imagining the absolute chaos if Chris were in this situation instead of you. “Good point. He’d probably elbow you in his sleep”
Matt’s gaze softened as he looked down at you. “I’m pretty lucky then” he murmured.
You felt your heart skip a beat at the way he said it, the quiet sincerity in his voice. There was something about the moment—maybe it was the warmth of his body, or the softness of his words, but it felt like a tiny shift between the two of you. The air grew heavier, more intimate.
“Are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper now.
He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah…I’m glad it’s you”
The words settled between you like a secret, and you couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks warming. You hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected this—but now that it was happening, it felt…right. Being close to Matt, both physically and emotionally, wasn’t strange at all. In fact, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
You shifted slightly, adjusting your head on his chest, your hand resting gently on his side. “You’re not so bad to be stuck with either” you say
Matt’s hand tightened ever so slightly on your waist, pulling you just a bit closer, your bodies fully pressed together now. You could hear the faint hitch in his breath, feel the way his heart had picked up a little beneath your cheek.
Neither of you spoke for a long moment, just lying there in the dark, the bus continuing to hum along in the background.
“Y’know-“ Matt said after a while, his voice a little lower now, “-I’ve kind of been waiting for a moment like this”
You blinked, turning your head slightly so you could look up at him again. “A moment like what?”
He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek as if considering whether or not to say what was on his mind. Then, with a small, almost shy smile, he answered, “Just…a moment where it’s just us”
Your breath caught in your throat. There had always been this unspoken thing between the two of you—something neither of you had ever acknowledged but had always felt. And now, lying here together, the words were finally coming to the surface.
“I’ve thought about it too” you admitted quietly.
Matt’s eyes softened, a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah” you said, your heart racing. “Maybe more than I realized”
There was a beat of silence as you let that sink in. The air between you had shifted, the playful banter now giving way to something deeper, something that felt like it had been there all along.
Matt’s hand moved from your waist, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face.“I’m glad I’m not the only one” his voice barely above a whisper now.
You felt a wave of warmth wash over you, your heart swelling at his words. “You’re definitely not”
He looked at you for a long moment, his gaze so soft, so full of something unspoken. you lifted your head and you found yourself leaning into him just a little more, this tips of your noses brushing. The energy quickly shifted once again, the intensity of the moment filling the air. Both of your gazes flicking between eachothers eyes and lips.
Without saying a word, you both leaned in, the space between you disappearing until your lips meet. It was soft, gentle , and full of unspoken emotions that had been building between you for longer than either of you would admit.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, as Matt brings up his hand cupping your cheek. “i’ve been wanting to do that for a while” he whispers.
“Me too” you blushed
He gave you a small grin before pulling you close by your waist once again, your head finding its way back to his chest. A few minutes go by of comfortable silence as the two of you internally freak out at what just happened.
You let out a small yawn, causing matt to chuckle slightly. “Tired sweetheart?” he coos
You nod lazily against him
“Let’s try’n get some rest hmm?”
~~~~~
The next morning, you woke up to the sound of soft laughter and muffled voices. You blinked your eyes open slowly, the sunlight filtering through the small window of the bus. You realized that you and Matt hadn’t moved much during the night, still wrapped around each other.
You stretched slightly, careful not to wake Matt, who was still sound asleep beside you, his arm draped over your waist. You couldn’t help but smile at how close the two of you had grown overnight.
As you carefully slid out of the bunk, trying not to disturb him, you heard Chris’s voice from the kitchenette. “Well, well, look who finally woke up”
You shot him a groggy look as you grabbed a cup of coffee. “Don’t even start”
Nick chuckled from beside him “Morning girl”
Chris grinned, “I wasn’t gonna say anything—”
“But?”
“But I did hear something interesting last night-“ he continued, his grin widening. “-something about Matt being really glad it’s you he’s stuck with?”
You froze, mid-sip, your eyes widening. “Wait, you heard that?”
“Oh yeah-” Chris said, barely holding back laughter. “-thin walls, my friend”
Your face flushed as you realized Chris had overheard Matt’s sweet, quiet confession. “You’re the worst” you muttered, trying to hide your embarrassment.
Chris was practically glowing with amusement. “I can’t wait to see what Matt has to say when he wakes up”
As if on cue, Matt stirred in the bunk behind you, stretching and blinking awake. He swung his legs out, sitting on the edge of the bunk. He glanced over at you, then at Chris, and immediately seemed to sense that something was up. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
Chris gave him a sly grin. “Oh, nothing. Just telling her about how sweet you are”
Matt frowned, clearly confused. “What?”
You shot Chris a look, but it was too late. “You know, the whole ‘glad it’s you I’m stuck with’ thing?”
Matt’s eyes widened, his face instantly going red as the memory hit him. “Chris—”
Chris threw his hands up, laughing. “Hey, man, I’m just saying, it was cute”
Matt groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
You couldn’t help but laugh “Don’t worry-” you teased, walking over to the bunk and sitting beside him. “-I thought it was cute too”
Matt peeked out from behind his hands, a small, sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah” you smirked
He let out a breath, his eyes softening as he looked at you, and you knew that despite the teasing, neither of you minded the shift that had happened between you.
Chris, however, was not done. “Man, I’m never letting this go”
••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/N; hope you guys enjoyyyeddd!! tysm for the request anon i loved writing this🤍
- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡
MASTERLIST
taglist ; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay
@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4
@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom
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povlnfour · 11 months ago
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ BEACHED! (OP81)
pairing: oscar piastri x f!reader
summary: after oscar saves you from an embarrassing accident on the beach, you accidentally go viral
warnings: cheesy humour, chaos
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 98,002 others
yoursername shout out to australia, especially to the random dude in orange who saved my life from prematurely ending (note: waves in australia are brutal stay away if you can't swim)
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yourbsf NO FR SHOUT OUT TO KING I WAS TOO BUSY LAUGJING AND TAKING PHOTOS
yoursername I NEARLY DIED Y/B/F
yourbsf i was too busy giggling! your dream boy and first time he's seeing you is nearly drowning
friend1 Y/N DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS (6)
yoursername an australian?
user IS THAT OSCAR???
user oscar in papaya even on the beach… i fear he has no other clothes
user WHAT IS GOING ON
user NOT ME SEEING OSCAR TODAY AFTER HE SAVED A RANDOM GIRL FROM DROWNING?!?!
yoursername who tf is oscar
oscarpiastri hi! random dude in orange here
yourusername UM.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ twitter reacts
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ dms with oscar
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted stories
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[captions:
1. treated the tour guide to lunch :)
2. note: don’t let an f1 driver drive the golf cart if you value your life. moments before i nearly died (again)]
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername live evidence of the moment my tour guide turned on me
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user UHHHH
user oh so now they’re hanging out… i smell love at first sight
user NOT HIM DIVE BOMBING YOU????
oscarpiastri HEY i saved you again as well🙄
yourusername AFTER I SWALLOWED LIKE A GALLON OF WATER
friend1 @/yourbsf where were you during this murder attempt
yourbsf honey they don’t even know i’m here
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 224,517 others
oscarpiastri best way to get used to the aussie waves is to just go for it☀️
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user okay when will an f1 driver save ME from drowning and fall in love (and then try to drown me on two other occasions)
user hahaha i think they’re just friends
user GIRL ^ look at what he just posted dedicated to her and tell me he’s not already obsessed
yourusername please stop trying to end my life i have a child at home
user UM
oscarpiastri a dog. she has a dog.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername australia i am in love with your food, your weather, and certainly your people. i can’t wait to come back one day🤍
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user ‘and certainly your people’ 🥹🥹🥹
user i knew she was only on holiday but why am i legitimately sad she’s leaving?
user why am i crying for people i don’t know
user is the shirtless man in the bg of the third oscar😳
oscarpiastri don’t be a stranger🧡
ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with oscar (1&2) and your best friend
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yourusername puppy therapy
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user no oscar in the likes again :(
user he’s so fluffy
user my heart aches so bad i want her back with oscar
user no fr i’m hoping that they can meet up when he’s travelling again :(
yourbsf coming over for a cuddle (with you and charlie pup)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted
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replies…
user why do i feel like this is about y/n…
user i hope they still talk :(
user with the way they’ve been posting i don’t think they do :(
user sending you love oscar. you’ll smash next season🧡
user something definitely happened
user im guessing just summer romance that fizzled out now they’re both busy :(
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mclaren pre-season testing underway✅
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user did anyone see the interview he did on f1’s page?
user no what happened?
user they asked him about his winter break, and his smile faded so fast :/ then he just said he did a bit of exploring and moved the conversation on so fast
user god they. really fell for each other huh
user mclaren you have an opportunity to do the best thing. invite y/n to one of your races and reunite them please
ੈ✩‧₊˚ an email from mclaren
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with your best friend
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mclaren a special home race for oscar with even more special guests🇦🇺 #OP81
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user IS THAT… IS THAT CHARLIE PUP. IS THAT Y/N.
user DID MCLAREN TAKE OUR ADVICE
user IS IT FINALLY HAPPENING ARE MY LOVES REUNITING?
user IM HERE RN AND SHES DEFINITELY IN THE PADDOCK
user FOR REAL? HAS OSCAR SEEN HER?
user NOT YET BECAUSE HE’S BEEN IN PRACTICE SESSIONS BUT THEY FINISH SOON
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yourusername who said fairytales aren’t real
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user OH MY GOD ITS OFFICIAL
user i would like to thank mclaren
user why am i crying. i don’t know these people
oscarpiastri and in all 100 versions of the story, i’d always choose you
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oscarpiastri i guess i was the real race winner after all
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user THE CAPTION IM SOBBING
user can’t believe y/n went from nearly drowning to dating the internet’s boyfriend
yourusername can’t wait to have my life threatened by you for years to come
oscarpiastri okay nearly backing over you was an ACCIDENT
mclaren you’re welcome😉
landonorris when is it my turn
mclaren challenge accepted…
landonorris NO NO NO I TAKE IT BACK
————
a/n: HIHIHI i hope this lived up to expectations omg. the snippet for this went crazy but i don’t know if this is good EEK
huge thank you to EVERYONE for all the love in my inbox and comments recently, i’ve had so much fun writing these smaus so it’s been great to see everyone’s thoughts🤍
this will most likely be my last one shot posted before christmas with not funny (didn’t laugh) being my first post afterwards, so i want to say a huge merry christmas to all who celebrate!!
and finally. thank you for 800 followers!!! merci du fond du coeur. ça représente beaucoup pour moi🤍🤍🤍
- giselle / zellie / gigi / elle / gi i havE SO MANY NAMES
taglist (found here): @iluvvmeeee @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @idkiwantchocolatee @skatingiswalkingincursive @six-call @he6rtshaker @hobiismyhopeu @tallrock35 @sunflower-golden-vol6 @woozarts @minkyungseokie @vellicora @tsukishitm-a @lucyysthings @treehouse-mouse @iloveyou3000morgan @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers
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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
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Everyone's Favourite LeClerc : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: he was used to being the leclerc on everybody's lips, but when you take your daughter to visit the paddock it turns out charles might not be the favourite that he thought he was
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You could hear the familiar chuckles coming from the Ferrari garage from halfway down the paddock, keeping your daughter in your hold as you swerved around the chaos. There were people everywhere that you tried to avoid, eventually reaching the garage and opening up the door, greeted, as always, by a sea of dark red staring back at you.
From across the room, Carlos was the first to spot you, waving over the crowds. He moved around a few people before reaching you and your daughter, kneeling down as you placed your daughter on her feet.
“Aurelie!” He yelled, capturing her attention as she stumbled towards him, barely able to keep her balance.
“She’s been asking for you all morning,” you chuckled, moving across to Carlos to greet him too.
“Oh I see, second best am I?” A voice called out as he closed in on the three of you. Charles didn’t miss a trick, as soon as he knew that you were in the room his protective eyes were trying to find you. He pressed a kiss against your cheek as Aurelie continued to cuddle Carlos, completing ignoring her father. “Am I invisible or something, you can see me, right?” Charles pouted, looking to you for a little bit of support. Your hand pressed against his cheek, offering a sympathetic smile.
“She only saw you, it’s been weeks since she got to see Carlos,” you reminded him, knowing that Charles was only messing with the strop that he threw beside you.
“I can’t believe my own daughter doesn’t even want to know me,” he huffed.
“Sucks to be you,” Carlos teased as Aurelie ran her hands through Carlos’ fluffy locks.
Charles watched the two of them for a few more moments before he reached out his hands. “That’s it, you’re mine,” he teased, taking Aurelie from Carlos’ hold and showering her with kisses all over her face. Aurelie squealed and squirmed in his hold, trying her best to push against his chest and get away. Charles was nowhere near letting her go though, reminding her exactly who her father was and who loved her the most.
“Poor girl,” Carlos chuckled as he watched the two of them.
“You’re my baby,” Charles whispered as he finally let Aurelie relax in his hold.
“So jealous,” you hummed under your breath, just loud enough for Charles to hear as he shot a glare across in your direction.
“Fancy having a look around? Seeing the car for this weekend?” Carlos offered as he slung his arm across your shoulders. “We’re on for a good race this week.”
You nodded in reply, “Aurelie has been desperate to see daddy’s car,” you noted, watching as Charles’ eyes lit up as you spoke.
“Shall we go and see daddy’s car?” He asked, proudly grinning as the girl in his arms bounced up and down excitedly, keen to have a good look around.
“And Uncle Carlos’ car too?” Carlos added, feeling Charles stare across at him, unable to stop himself from getting a little jab in and winding Charles up once again.
You hung back slightly as Charles and Carlos began to walk Aurelie around the garage, one of her small hands in each of their own. She was still too young to fully understand what was going on, but seeing how busy things were always made her eyes light up. Seeing people cheer for her dad and want to talk to her too was the perfect weekend for her.
Aurelie listened closely as Charles talked her through his car, making sure to keep it as simple as he could. Once the garage tour was completed you decided to head out around the rest of the paddock and see what you could find. Soon enough you had several of the drivers around you, all keen to greet Aurelie and see who could entertain her the best.
You had never seen Charles so proud, he loved introducing his little girl to his world and letting her see all the cool things he got up to. Above all else, he loved that some of his closest friends were there with him at the garage and that he got to see them bond with Aurelie which was all that he had ever wanted. His daydream was broken by you appearing next to him, nudging gently against his side. Charles’ smile turned up as soon as he realised that it was you there, taking a hold of your hand and pulling you closely in against his side.
As much as Charles wanted to have all his attention on you, he couldn’t ignore the giggles that constantly came from next to him as Lando and George tried their best to keep Aurelie happy.
It was nice for the two of you to have a couple of moments all to yourselves.
“I love having you both here and being able to have you in my little world,” Charles whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of your head. “It always gives me extra motivation to do well whenever I know that the two of you are cheering me on as well,” he added.
“I wouldn’t miss this race for the world,” you whispered, “I know how important Monaco is for you and how much you want to do well today.”
“Thank you for being here,” Charles then told you, taking you by surprise with how sincere his voice was. “I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate the efforts you go to to support, and make sure that Aurelie can come and support me too.”
Your eyes narrowed on Charles, convinced there was a hint of a tear in his eye.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he joked, knowing exactly what you were thinking without even having to look at you. “I’m not going to start crying with all of these losers around to see it and tease the hell out of me for it.”
“It’s okay to admit that it means a lot,” you assured him, brushing underneath his eye with the pad of your thumb. “Truthfully, it means a lot for me to be able to be here and see you achieve your dreams too.”
As much as F1 was a dream for Charles, the biggest dream he’d achieved was the giggling figure currently pulling at Lando’s feeble attempt of a beard on his face.
You both could only laugh as Lando squealed in pain, pushing against George as he encouraged Aurelie to keep going and cause Lando as much pain as possible.
“I worry about the influence of all your friends sometimes,” you jokingly admitted to Charles, shaking your head at the scene that was unfolding.
“How are you two just stood there letting this happen?” Lando gasped at you both.
You both shrugged, much to Lando’s dissatisfaction. She was as cheeky as her dad, and loved to try and push the boundaries as much as she possibly could.
“I blame you for this,” you laughed, tapping against Charles’ stomach. “She copies your habits way more than she copies mine,” you added, raising your eyebrows across at him.
“I’m an angel,” Charles protested.
“You?” You gasped in disbelief, “you must be having a laugh right now.”
“You adore me enough to have a child with me,” he noted.
“True,” you scoffed, finding yourself caught out and unable to figure out what to say next. Charles looked at you expectantly, knowing that he’d got you and once again left you pretty speechless because of him.
When you remained silent, he leant forwards and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “I love our little family, even if it is chaos sometimes.”
“Me too, I would never have it any other way.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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rafesbabygirlx · 1 month ago
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A Lot of Time has Passed |Part 1
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Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader
Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. JJs sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.
A/N: Writing this with inspiration from season 4 part 1. Rewriting plot lines. No mention of Y/N but is written in her perspective. Was inspired of Rafe’s new character arc which I love but thought I’d make it a bit more interesting and messy.
Also- you have to imagine that Maybank reader is intertwined in the previous seasons. And was involved with Rafe. She understands him more than Sofia. She is JJs half sister, takes after her mom, brunette brown eyes tanned skin.
Not really proofread
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: smut (fingering) tough discussions, loss of life (Ward, Big John) Rafe can get a little mean, sorry Sofia lovers.
It’s been 18 months since you returned to the island. While you’ve stayed in touch with your half-brother JJ and the rest of the Pogues, you only saw them once in a while since you had made them travel to the mainland. You relished the escape from the chaos of the Outer Banks. Although you maintained a connection with your mother, it wasn’t until you decided to move in with her that you saw her again. You never imagined you’d come back, but hearing about the Pogues’ long-overdue success and newfound wealth drew you back to celebrate.
Once you arrived, you made an effort to keep a low profile. You headed straight to the old house you and JJ used to share. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how much he paid for it, but the joy of being back with your little brother overshadowed that irritation. Everything felt just as it had in the past, and you slipped seamlessly into your role as their ‘older sister.’
You found yourself speaking with Sarah down by the docks, where she asked how you were doing and how things were going—just the usual small talk. Then came the question you dreaded: “Have you seen him?” You stared out at the water, trying to push thoughts of him aside while enjoying your time with the Pogues. Subconsciously, you gripped your gold necklace by its 2 charms, one a ‘V’ initial and the other a baby rattle as you replied, “No, I haven’t, and I’m hoping to keep it that way.”
You hadn’t planned to stay long, just a week or two at most, with hopes of hanging out in the Cut, grabbing some groceries, and indulging in shopping at boutiques you never go to do before. You wanted to avoid anything that might draw attention to you. Living with your mom—who was now clean and remarried—had been a breath of fresh air. She shielded you from worry, allowing you to focus on taking care of what you needed to and building a decent savings while working a stable job, free from the burdens your father had imposed.
After chatting a bit more, you hugged Sarah and rejoined the group. They were deep in conversation about a bike race happening the next day. Glancing at JJ's bike in the yard, you felt a mix of confusion and admiration for his confidence. Although you hadn’t planned to join them for obvious reasons, he managed to convince you to come along. With such a big crowd, you thought you could easily blend in and suppress the anxious flutter in your chest at the thought of running into Rafe. Confident, yet now he’s all you can think about.
————————————
The last time you saw him was when you returned home from South America. While you were glad to see him, you dreaded the conversation about his father. After leaving the group at the airport, you headed to Tannyhill. As you entered, he greeted you with a warm hug, lifting you off your feet and showering you with kisses. He set you down, his face bright with a smile, contrasting sharply with the sadness that clouded your own.
Before you set out for South America to help John B with his dad, Rafe had stopped you just before boarding the plane. He promised he’d be a better person for you and wanted you to return from the trip to him. With that, he slipped one of his silver rings onto your finger and kissed you, giving a nod that it was okay to go.
There was always a powerful connection between you two, despite the class divide and his intense disdain for Pogues. You were the exception. Everyone adored you—both Pogues and Kooks alike—especially when you worked as the favorite bartender at the Country Club. You and Rafe bonded over the absence of your mothers and the shortcomings of your fathers. It was a match made in an unlikely paradise.
Though you were never officially together, largely due to his ego, you often went out publicly. Despite JJ and the group’s disdain, you convinced them—and yourself—that it meant nothing, even though deep down, you knew it did. The same could be said for Rafe with Topper and Kelce. No matter what happened, you both struggled to fully pull away from each other. Until that night.
You led Rate to the living room of Tannyhill and gently broke the news of his father's death. The color drained from his face, and his breathing grew rapid and heavy. In an attempt to console him, you placed your hand, adorned with his ring, on his arm, but he abruptly yanked it away and stood up, clearly overwhelmed. Before you could fully explain the circumstances surrounding the tragedy, Rafe erupted in anger. "This is what happens when people get close to someone like John B! Pogues are nothing but worthless pieces of shit, I trusted you all with him!" He lashed out, placing the blame on them as if Ward's insatiable greed hadn't played a role in his decisions. It was bewildering that he believed any of us wanted his father there in the first place. This wasn't any of ours fault.
"Rafe..." you pleaded, desperation lacing your voice. "I don't want to hear it! I can't even look at you right now. All those things I said to you, and you let this happen?! You got my father killed?!" His voice thundered with rage, his eyes dark and wild, veins bulging in his neck.
"You really think we wanted this? John B lost his dad too, you know that?! This was NEVER supposed to happen. I'm so sorry." But Rafe didn't want to hear your apology. "Get away from me! Don't come back! I never want to see you again," he shouted, the finality of his words slicing through you. You felt the tears streaming down your face, sorrow intertwined with disbelief. How could he say this after all the loving promises he had made before leaving? You sat in stunned silence for a moment, then carefully slid the ring off your finger and placed it on the coffee table. With a heavy heart, you turned and walked out of Tannyhill. Rafe didn't even glance back; he couldn't. Deep down, he knew he didn't mean any of it, but his anger always got the best of him.
————————————
As you emerged from your thoughts, everyone decided to head inside for the night, giving JJ some much-needed rest before the race the next day. You settled into your old bed, replacing the dust-covered sheets, and despite the whirlwind of emotions flooding your mind about being back, sleep quickly overtook you. Before long, JJ was shaking you awake, urging you to hurry and get ready.
When you arrived at the racecourse, you kept your distance from the group, sticking close to Cleo to avoid any potential confrontations.
JJ understood what was going on without needing to ask, and he respected your space; having you there, after all this time, was what mattered most to him. It was a relief, allowing you to watch from afar as Rafe interacted with Topper, their tension palpable from a distance.
As the race began, excitement surged through you. Ju took the lead, but then Rafe unexpectedly tapped him, sending both of them flipping over their bikes, igniting a chorus of cheers from the crowd.
Once the race concluded, you made your way towards the group. Topper walked by, not being able to help gloat saying something to Sarah. He then caught your eye, a smug smile on his face, but he chose not to say anything, merely walking away while shaking his head. You refused to let it bother you; Topper's opinions meant nothing, yet you knew that this would undoubtedly reach Rafe, and you hoped to slip away before that happened-at least, that was what you hoped.
As the crowd began to thin out, you felt exposed among the remaining Pogues and Kooks. Seeking a bit of refuge, you decided to head towards the shack that stored drinks and equipment for the track, needing a breather from the charged atmosphere. Just as you turned to leave, your eyes locked with Rafe's.
Your heart raced as a heavy silence enveloped you, and for a moment, neither of you could look away. In that instant, you noticed Sofia slip her arm through his and plant a kiss on his cheek. Another dark haired, brown eyes Pogue you knew from the cut and worked with the country club. He clearly had a type. She playfully pulled his attention back to her. Seizing the chance, you quickly resumed your path to the shack, desperate to put distance between yourself and the turmoil of emotions that Rafe always seemed to ignite within you.
You stepped into the shack, the sunlight streaming through the windows casting long shadows across the floor. Your heart raced with nervousness, and you weren't sure if you wanted to stay or leave. With your back to the door, you pressed one hand to your chest and the other to your forehead, trying to steady your breathing, when a low voice broke the silence.
"Hi."
You spun around to find Rafe's imposing silhouette framed in the doorway, his tall figure looming over you. "Rafe, please, just go. I don't need this. I'm here for my brother," you insisted, your voice unsteady. He chuckled, stepping further into the room, the warmth of his presence engulfing you.
"I've missed you, Maybank."
"Don't say that to me," you retorted, backing away as he moved closer. Soon, you found yourself pinned between him and the table, his blue eyes piercing through the dim light, sparkling with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He studied you with an expression that was both longing and mischief, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before gently cupping your face.
It left you bewildered, and you instinctively tried to push him away. "A year and a half ago, you couldn't stand me, and now you're all over me. You can never make up your mind."
A smile crept across Rafe's face. "I could never hate you. I never hated you. I was angry, sure, but I took it out on you-and you never gave me a chance to apologize. You vanished, changed your number, and everyone who knew where you were would never tell me."
"Rafe, please just go," you pleaded, feeling trapped. But before you could protest further, he lifted you effortlessly and set you down on the table.
"I can't stay away from you. Please, let us have this moment," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. He leaned in, inhaling your familiar scent-the coconut and mango shampoo mixed with a hint of jasmine perfume. Then, without warning, he pressed soft kisses against your cheek. You let out a slight moan, unable to suppress the spark of electricity that coursed through you at his touch.
He smiled against your skin, his face inching closer to yours. Then, before you could register the moment, he pulled back slightly to gaze into your eyes once more before crashing his lips against yours. The shock of the kiss momentarily stunned you, but as the reality of what was happening sank in, you found yourself responding, moving your lips against his as if you had been waiting for this moment all along.
His hands began to explore your soft skin, gliding down your arms to intertwine his fingers with yours. You felt the familiar weight of the ring that once adorned your finger. He released your hand, gripping the nape of your neck and pulling you closer as his right hand traced down your torso. You wore a thin, cropped strapless top and a mini skirt. His fingertips teased the upper hem, grazing the tops of your breasts while he moved lower, grasping your waist as if afraid to let you go.
Both of you fought for breath, pulling away to look at each other, laughter escaping your lips. “I’ve been waiting to do this again for so long,” he admitted.
“Do you think your girlfriend would appreciate you saying that to me, Rafe?”
“What?”
“Sofia, the girl outside who kissed you on the cheek?” You sarcastically remind him. “Do you think she’d appreciate this? I may be many things, but I won’t be an accomplice to cheating.”
He sighed, “That means nothing to me. If anything, she’s just a distraction while you were gone. It’s always been you I’m meant to be with. I ruined it and forced myself to move on. And now you’re back.”
You bit your finger, feeling conflicted. “But—” Before you could interrogate him more, he captured your lips in another kiss, drowning out your thoughts. His hands ventured lower, teasing the hem of your skirt. Looking into your eyes for confirmation, you nodded, giving him permission to explore further. He slipped his fingers beneath your clothing, pressing against your core, and groaned as he felt your wetness.
He swirled his fingers before moving to your clit, rubbing in deep, rhythmic motions. You broke the kiss to moan, your head thrown back, exposing your neck and chest. He kissed a trail from behind your ear to the tops of your breasts, and then, with a practiced ease, slid a finger inside you.
You gasped, leaning into the crook of his neck. “That’s a good girl. You can take a little more, right?”
You whimper a soft yes, and he added a second finger, igniting a fevered kiss filled with passion and frustration. Despite your anger, desire overwhelmed you. He pumped in and out quickly, his thumb working your clit, sending you into a frenzy. Your breaths quickened, and you were amazed that no one could hear your moans.
“That’s right, baby. Let me make you feel good. Let me make it up to you. Come for me.”
As waves of pleasure washed over you, your head spun, heart racing. With a gasp, you reached your peak, surrendering completely as he rode out your orgasm, his unoccupied hand brushing your cheek. After a few lingering pumps, he withdrew, licking his fingers clean before adjusting your panties and gazing into your eyes.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said softly. You struggled to find your voice, lost in the moment until the door slammed open, revealing JJ. Rage simmered within you at the thought of a confrontation between him and your brother, but Rafe turned to you. “We’ll talk more another time, baby.”
You smiled and nodded, but as he walked out, JJ turned to you with a look of disgust. “What the hell did he want?”
“Nothing. We were trying to talk before you interrupted,” you replied. “I didn’t know he saw me come in.”
“Are you going to talk to him about her?”
“I don’t know, J.”
---
I hope you like it. My first of many stories. I decided to break it into parts. Stretch it out over the month before part 2 of the season drops.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months ago
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i saw your prompt list and was hoping for number 6 with Aegon <3
‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’
Request: Aegon married Rhaenyra's daughter. When the king dies, Alicent lock her in the dungeons so she won't go to her mother and ruin the coronation. Aegon ask where his wife is and get you out himself. Tells the guard that his wife is not to be made prisoner
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You always knew Alicent had madness running through her blood, but you never thought she would have you taken to the dungeons and imprisoned. 
After dressing in your day dress, you were walking down the corridors, looking for Halaena when you heard voices coming from the small council chamber talking about sending men to Dragonstone to kill your mother and Daemon. Before you could get to your bed chamber and write her a message to send by crow, one of the guards saw you and brought you to the dungeons. 
You tried to scream for help, but the sounds were killed by the stone walls. So you sank to the floor and curled on yourself, praying to the gods that someone would come get you out. Someone must have noticed your absence. 
At his return from the dragonpit, Aegon walked into your chambers and called to you. He assumed you were with his sister, so he went to Halaena’s chambers, but she told him she had not seen you. On his way back from his sister’s chambers, Aegon heard the servants whispering about ‘the blacks’ daughter’ and stopped them. 
With fury in his eyes, the prince stormed down to the dungeons. He didn’t have his sword on him — only Aemond wore it on the daily —, but he had his dagger. Whoever would try to oppose freeing you will end their day bleeding out. Aegon was not afraid of a fight. 
His footsteps echoed off the stone walls and the torches flickered as he passed. As he reached the entrance to the dungeons, Aegon clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tight with determination. Without surprise, two guards were stationed at the entrance. They moved to block the way when the prince approached. 
‘’We cannot let you go past, my prince. Orders of the Queen,’’ one of them said.
‘’The King’s dead, which no longer makes her Queen. And as the rightful heir to the throne, it is my command you obey.’’ Aegon tried to go past them, but the other guard pulled out his sword. ‘’I could have you removed from the kingsguard for pointing your sword at your future King.’’ His jaw clenched, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger as he stared the defiant guards.
The threat hung heavy in the air, a silent warning of the consequences should they continue to defy him. After a tense moment, the guard who had brandished his sword reluctantly stepped aside.
‘’My wife is not to be made a prisoner,’’ Aegon declared, his voice ringing with authority, holding his dagger at the guard’s throat. 
The guard gulped. ‘’Yes, my Prince.’’ 
Aegon walked past them, wondering how his own mother could do this. A part of him was not surprised, though. Her determination often goes too far. 
Finally, he reached the row of cells. All were empty, except one. His heart was pounding in his chest as he saw you sitting with your knees pulled to your chest on the cold stone floor. He said your name and you looked up, tears welling up in your eyes as you stood and reached out to him. You knew he would come for you. 
‘’Aegon!’’ Your voice held relief. 
He grabbed your hand through the bars, cold from being down here, holding it. ‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’ Aegon reached out to caress your tear-streaked face, his touch a tender reassurance in the midst of chaos. 
Using the keys he stole from the guards, Aegon unlocked the door, a harsh creaking sound echoing in the silence of the dungeon when it opened. Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. 
‘’Are you alright?’’ he asked, stepping back to look at you. 
You nodded. You were cold, and very thirsty, but not hurt. ‘’I heard your mother and her father speaking to the Lord Commander. They sent men to murder my mother,’’ you said, a tear slipping down your face. ‘’I was sent here so I wouldn’t write to her and risk ruining your coronation. I need to get to the dragonpit. I have to go to Dragonstone and save my mother.’’ 
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idkyetxoxo · 1 month ago
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Daemon Targaryen - Interrupted Desires
Summary - Daemon sweeps in, eager to reclaim his wife's attention but their evening takes a turn when their children interrupt with a grievance. What begins as an intimate night becomes a family affair, with a dagger and ruined doll causing more trouble than Daemon ever anticipated.
Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x reader
Warnings - None
Word count - 2271
Masterlist for Daemon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.
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"Ah, my beautiful wife," Daemon purred as he swept into our chambers, his presence crackling with an energy that felt wildly out of place given the lateness of the hour.
The door clicked shut behind him, sealing us in our private world as his eyes locked onto mine with that familiar gleam, full of mischief and something far more dangerous.
He moved with the easy grace of a predator, his steps far too lively, almost impatient, for a man who should have been ready to wind down for the night.
Yet, there was something intoxicating about the way he carried himself—like he had the world at his feet and knew it.
I paused in the middle of securing my braid, my fingers halting mid-twist as I turned my gaze to him, eyeing him with playful suspicion.
Daemon was never one to hide his intentions, but the thrill of guessing his next move always sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
"What have you done now?" I asked, my voice dripping with a mix of curiosity and exasperation, though a small smile tugged at my lips.
With Daemon, trouble was never far behind, and his version of mischief could be anything from sneaking out in the dead of night to more... enticing forms of trouble.
"Why must you always assume I've done something wrong?" he countered smoothly, that wicked grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he closed the distance between us.
His words were light, teasing, but the heat in his eyes betrayed his true intentions. His gaze roamed over me, taking in every detail as if I were some forbidden fruit he couldn't wait to taste.
Before I could respond, he reached out and grabbed my hands, the touch electrifying.
The ribbon I had been carefully threading through my hair slipped from my fingers as if it had a will of its own, and my freshly woven braid unravelled in an instant, my hair tumbling free.
His smirk deepened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he watched the chaos he'd just caused.
"Daemon!" I groaned, frustration laced through my voice, but I could already feel my resolve slipping.
The sight of him, the energy crackling between us, made it impossible to stay annoyed. His touch, as always, was my undoing.
With an almost careless flick, he shook out my hair, letting it cascade down my back. He loved it when my hair was loose, wild, and he wasn't shy about showing it.
The smug satisfaction on his face was unmistakable.
"Why so glum, my love?" he whispered, his voice low and velvety as he stepped closer, his lips brushing along the curve of my jaw.
Each kiss was light as air, but they left a trail of fire in their wake, coaxing a reluctant sigh from my lips.
I tried, truly, to stay annoyed with him, but as his mouth moved over my skin, teasing and gentle, I found myself softening under his touch.
My body leaned into him of its own accord, drawn to him like a moth to flame. His scent, the heat of him, the way his fingers slid against my skin—it was all too much, too intoxicating.
"So," I murmured, barely able to keep the teasing edge in my voice, "this is why you're so... enthusiastic tonight."
I tilted my head, giving him better access as he trailed kisses down my neck, his breath warm against my skin. "You're hoping to get lucky."
The teasing lilt in my voice was met with a rumble of amusement from him, but it didn't stop his lips from continuing their slow, deliberate path down to my collarbone.
Daemon pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his lips brushing against the hollow of my throat before he frowned theatrically, his expression one of mock offence.
"Lucky?" he repeated, as though the word itself was beneath him.
Then, with a dramatic shrug, he added, "Is it such a crime to want to spend the night with my beautiful, naked wife in my arms?"
His voice had dropped an octave, deep and rough, as his fingers toyed with the strap of my nightgown, tugging on it gently, threatening to reveal more of me to his hungry gaze.
My breath hitched as his lips moved lower, grazing over the delicate skin of my collarbone, lingering just long enough to make my pulse quicken.
"It has been far too long," he hummed, his words vibrating against my skin as I tangled my fingers in his silver hair, each stroke sending a jolt through me.
I let out a soft laugh, remembering our morning together. "Did you forget about yesterday?" I teased, though my voice was breathy, the heat between us unmistakable.
His chuckle was low and sinful, the sound curling deep in my belly.
"Far too long," he repeated, his tone turning serious as his lips ghosted over my skin, every touch deliberate, making it impossible to think about anything else but him.
He was right, though.
No matter how often we were together, with Daemon, it was never enough.
Before I could utter another word, he scooped me up effortlessly, his strong hands gripping the backs of my thighs as he lifted me from the floor.
My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he carried me toward the bed, his mouth still busy, trailing kisses along my throat and jaw.
"Beautiful, beautiful woman," he muttered between kisses, the words almost reverent.
I couldn't help but giggle at the feel of his lips against my skin, the way he worshipped me with every touch.
The heat between us was palpable, my pulse racing as his hands roamed over me, his kisses deepening, pulling me further into the haze of desire.
But just as the moment was about to shift into something more, a loud thud echoed through the room.
I jerked in surprise, the sound snapping me out of the spell Daemon had so expertly woven around me.
My heart skipped a beat as I looked toward the door, my mind struggling to catch up with what was happening.
Daemon, however, didn't even flinch.
His mouth continued its relentless assault on my neck, his hands firmly holding me as if the interruption was of no concern to him. He had no intention of stopping.
That is, until the unmistakable creak of the door opening.
"Mommy!" A small but fierce voice shrieked from the doorway, causing me to gasp and push Daemon away, much to his groaning displeasure.
He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly disgruntled at the interruption.
Daemon, the ever-persistent lover a moment ago, now sat back with a defeated huff as if this were the greatest tragedy of the night.
His smouldering gaze transformed into that of a man staring down the inevitable chaos of fatherhood. "Of all the times," he muttered, "this is when they choose to storm the gates?"
I sat up quickly, smoothing down the rumpled fabric of my nightgown as I stared at the intruders. Our three children stood in the doorway, wide-eyed.
Our youngest, Aerea, stood at the front, hands on her hips, her small face twisted into a fierce scowl.
Her two older brothers, Vaegon and Baelon, stood behind her, desperately trying and failing to stifle their laughter.
"What is it, my love?" I asked, as Aerea stormed into the room, her tiny feet stomping with indignation as she made her way to the bed.
She began climbing up, her frustration clear as she struggled, but she was determined, barely giving a second thought to what she might have interrupted.
Daemon let out a long, weary sigh beside me. "And to think," he muttered, rubbing his temples dramatically, "I almost had a quiet night with my beautiful wife."
I shot him a knowing look as our fiery little girl finally made her way onto the bed, demanding my attention with the same fervour her father had mere moments before.
Whatever she had come to complain about was bound to be serious—at least, in her mind.
"And what has you so upset, princess?" I asked, my hand smoothing over her wild curls as her brothers continued to snicker from the doorway, clearly entertained by their little sister's theatrics.
She turned to me with an exaggerated pout, her little hands clenched into fists, clearly on the verge of an outburst. "Mommy," she whined, "look what they did!"
Her two older brothers, Vaegon and Baelon, still lingering by the doorway, exchanged guilty glances, their lips pressed tightly together as they tried, once again, to stifle their laughter.
They weren't fooling anyone. Vaegon, the eldest by only a few minutes, nudged Baelon, who finally cracked a grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
I sighed, brushing Aerea's unruly curls from her face. "What happened, my love?"
Aerea, always dramatic, held up her beloved doll, its once long, flowing hair now an uneven, jagged mess.
"They cut off all her hair!" she gasped, her voice filled with outrage. She whipped her head toward her brothers, eyes wide in disbelief. "How did you do that?"
The boys shifted awkwardly, their bravado faltering under her furious gaze. Vaegon nudged Baelon again, prompting him to speak.
"It wasn't—um—that bad," Baelon mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, clearly searching for the right words. "We just, uh... used the dagger Father gave us."
My eyes widened in shock, and I quickly turned to Daemon, who was now sitting up beside me, his face frozen in a mixture of disbelief and mild amusement.
He stared at his sons, his jaw tight as if trying to decide whether to laugh or scold them.
I blinked at Daemon, incredulous. "Dagger? You gave them a dagger?"
Daemon raised his hands defensively, his silver hair tumbling forward slightly as he looked between the boys and me.
"I explicitly told you two not to tell your mother!" he said, his voice filled with a tone of mock accusation, more to the boys than me.
Vaegon and Baelon both shuffled on their feet, suddenly very interested in the floor.
"Daemon!" I shrieked, my hand shooting out to smack his arm. "They're six! You gave them a dagger, and they're six summers old?"
Daemon winced slightly at my tone but quickly recovered, giving me a casual shrug as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"I was doing far worse at their age," he muttered under his breath, leaning back against the headboard with that ever-present smirk on his lips. "Besides, it's a small dagger."
I could feel my blood levels rising as I glared at him.
"That's not the point, Daemon!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mounting frustration.
"Far worse? I don't even want to know what you were doing at their age! But they—" I pointed at the boys, who were now pretending to be invisible—"are not you!"
Aerea, meanwhile, had her arms crossed over her chest, clearly not done with her grievance.
"They ruined her hair!" she snapped, holding up her poor doll again for emphasis as if to remind us all of the true crime that had taken place here.
Daemon glanced at Aerea's doll, his lips twitching as though he were trying to hold back a laugh. "Ah," he said, a mock-serious tone creeping into his voice, "a true tragedy."
"It is!" Aerea huffed, her little face scrunched up in righteous indignation.
Daemon, ever the master of distractions, leaned over and ruffled her curls gently. "I'll get you a new one with even longer hair, my little dragon," he promised, his voice softening just enough to melt Aerea's fury.
She still glared at her brothers, but the fire had dulled, replaced by the allure of a new doll.
I watched the exchange, exasperated yet unsurprised. Of course, Daemon would find a way to diffuse the situation by making her a promise she couldn't resist.
But that didn't change the fact that our twin boys had somehow gotten their hands on a real dagger.
"I can't believe you, Daemon," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.
Daemon's hand slid up to the back of his neck, rubbing it absently as he gave me one of those lopsided grins that he knew I could never stay mad at.
"What?" he said with a playful shrug. "I've taught them how to handle it properly."
I opened my mouth to argue, but Vaegon and Baelon, who had been watching the exchange closely, chimed in, voices overlapping.
"Yeah, Father showed us how to hold it!" Vaegon said proudly, puffing out his small chest. "We know what to do!"
"And what not to do," Baelon added, shooting a glance at Aerea's doll. "Mostly."
I shot Daemon a look that could cut through steel. "And they used it to cut off their sister's doll's hair. Clearly, they've mastered the art of responsibility."
Daemon finally let out a bark of laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. "It's a start," he said with a wink, completely unapologetic.
I shook my head again, unable to suppress the small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "You're impossible," I muttered under my breath.
But even as I tried to stay stern, I couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation too ridiculous to ignore.
Aerea climbed into my lap, clearly satisfied with the promise of a new doll, while Vaegon and Baelon stood by the door, triumphant smirks on their faces as if they had just survived a grand battle.
Daemon, with his typical irreverence, leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. "See? All's well that ends well."
I rolled my eyes, but leaned into him nonetheless, because for all his madness, Daemon had a way of making even the most chaotic nights somehow perfect.
A/n - I reread stormlit promises for fun and this idea popped into my head so I knew I had to get it down!!
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sistertotheknowitall · 9 months ago
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Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)
Masterpost
“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”
There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.
He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.
Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.
Danny was a meta and he was afraid.
That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.
(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman’s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)
However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.
(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)
Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.
Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.
However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”
Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”
“….what.”
“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”
“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.
“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.
“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”
Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.
Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )
Post Six
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doromoni · 7 months ago
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Off Track Pace | MV1 , ?
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Ships Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader , ? x presenter! Reader , Platonic! Charles Leclerc x presenter! Reader
Genre : Fluff , Angst
Sub tags : mutual pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late,
Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?
Face claim: Sofia Wylie
A/N : I’m so sorry luvs! I’m working on updating Clash of Champions , i promise ~ it’s my uni’s finals exams so I gotta focus on that first… so here’s a peace offering.
Part 2.
Media day, usually on a Thursday — a day that most Formula 1 drivers dread. A day where cameras followed their every move, interviews with journalists that twisted their every word and silly PR stunts forced on them by their teams. It used to be just all racing and winning podiums, but modern Formula 1 is all about media politics and sponsorships.
If you were to ask any driver on the grid if they were given the chance not to do PR, they would say yes to skipping it. But not everything about media day is horrendous.
Not when a new motorsports journalist joins the paddock that was an absolute sweetheart and delight to have around. A natural on the job — she always made sure that every driver that she interviewed was comfortable and enjoying their time with her and the segment.
the.Y/N
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liked by skysportsf1 , lissiemackintosh, f1 , and 689,270 others
the.Y/N first day on the job? . i’m not nervous, you are! (She said literally shaking)
skysportsf1 Welcome to the team Y/N! ❤️
the.Y/N thank you kind employers. 🤍
lissiemackintosh Babe!! It’s finally official. Congratulations!
the.Y/N Thanks to you Babe!! I swear I would’ve been lost without you 😭
User1 who is she?
the.Y/N literally no one
User2 Ohhhh a new commentator? 🤔
User3 maybe she’s a journalist?
scuderriaferrari the kids had fun. They want their clay statues on display!
User2 Clay statues?? Hello?? Wut?
User3 Same question, Clay statues??
the.Y/N wait and see 🤷‍♀️ , the interview would drop tomorrow? Maybe~
User4 Its her first day and she literally had an interview with Charles and Carlos in Ferrari???
the.Y/N well no , the first interview was with Lewis Hamilton … so. 🤭
User5 WHAT?? Ok , queen slay!
User4 damnn , imagine being new to your field and already interviewing the big guys.
mclaren Do us next please 🙋‍♂️
redbullracing get in line!
the.Y/N gotta stop by Aston first , sorry besties.
User6 OK WHAT IS HAPPENING, ms. Y/N who are your connections 😭 i want in.
User7 why are all the teams here??
Y/N L/N was the F1 presenter and journalist who put drivers willingly out of their comfort zones and made them try something new. You genuinely loved what you do and you were passionate about it. You never showed partiality among the drivers, you treated everyone with the same attitude — this earned the respect of all drivers on the grid.
You were quickly becoming a paddock favorite. The fans enjoyed the content you put out and the drivers looked forward to your interview when they saw your name on their schedule.
Interviewing with you usually meant cheat meals and unusual activities that you thought they would like.
the.Y/N
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 740,155 others
the.Y/N maybe bowling isn’t the best idea. @charles_leclerc you suck, ngl. New vid out on Monday at the sky sports channel🤍
charles_leclerc i hate you ❤️
the.Y/N no you don’t 😌
charles_leclerc no, i don’t
User1 I love their dynamic so much!! I need more of the Paddock siblings pleaseee
User2 I can’t wait for more of Y/N bullying Charles into weird things and Ferrari doing nothing about it🤣
landonorris but why is charles in a cowboy costume?
the.Y/N i dunno? He just showed up in that 🤷‍♀️
charles_leclerc You told me we were riding horses and you wanted me to wear smth cowboy!!
the.Y/N oh yeah! Lmao
landonorris should i feel bad?
the.Y/N Nope. He’s happy either way. Aren’t you @charles_leclerc?
User2 NOT THE LMAO . Y/N thank you being you
User3 Y/N giving us Cowboy Charles , yes ma’am
User3 JUST DATE ALREADY!
the.Y/N EW. No
charles_leclerc Ok , the ew was unnecessary. But same. No thanks :)) i’m not dating my sister .
User4 Charles call y/n his sister 🥺
However, No matter how much you tried to keep things professional by being just a driver: journalist, something your boss commented during a quick meeting because fans kept shipping you with every driver. What you found weird is that most drivers you see as older brothers and some even uncles (don’t tell Nando). Plus most of them had girlfriends!
Nevertheless, your relationship with them seems to always end up with them hanging around your office at Sky, whenever they are free. Even the older drivers like Nando, Lewis and even Nico and Kevin use your office as an escape from the chaos of their motorhomes.
You didn’t mind hosting the older drivers in your room, as they were usually tame and kept to themselves as they read the books on your shelves in peace. They usually plop themselves down your couch and place the oversized plush you always bring on their lap. They always brought you snacks, so you looked forward to the times when their heads popped in your door and asked if they could come in.
But when the younger drivers visit your office? And if they came in groups — which they usually do. Oh boy, it was either a clusterfuck of them stealing snacks from your secret stash or your office becoming a den for hot gossip in the paddock usually led by the one and only Charles Leclerc.
Case in point. You now have Charles, Carlos, Max and to your surprise Checo in your office. The older Spanish-speaking driver was a rare visitor, but a welcome one nonetheless.
But considering the topic in discussion, you understood the presence of the two Red Bull drivers.
You were in the middle of typing away on your laptop when suddenly they barged in with ice cream tubs and spoons at hand then found a spot to sit and made themselves comfortable.
“Is Newey leaving Red Bull?” Charles asked Max and Checo, as he scooped a bite from his ice cream.
“We have no clue! Christian is saying nothing to us. Nothing” Max exclaimed exasperated as Checo nodded in agreement.
“So Adrian Newey is moving to Ferrari?” You questioned as you pointed your spoon at Charles
“Y/N, I love you like a sister and I know that you’re incredibly smart, but sometimes you are stupid. We’re clueless in Ferrari, hence my question ”
You threw your wooden spoon at the Monaco-born Ferrari driver. Which he easily avoided thanks to his fast reflexes. Freaking f1 reflexes!
“ I wasn't the person who got named for being stupid— HEY! Max give that back!! You don't even like salted caramel” You were trying to rebut Charles’ insult but were distracted when Max took your ice cream for himself.
Max just shrugged and placed his half-consumed chocolate brownie fudge ice cream in your hands — his spoon still in it. You didn’t complain further as you took his spoon and took a bite yourself. Yum! Brownie fudge is your favorite.
“Dude, what is even going on inside Red Bull? What was Horner under investigation for?” Carlos pressed on, trying to find answers. You were curious yourself
“Everyone is being weird. They’re keeping things from us. “ Checo added. You knew that they were truly left in the dark because if they knew they would’ve spilled instantly. NDAs be damned.
“Every interview, people keep asking if we know something! one more journalist and I swear I’ll run them over with my car! I hate each one of them” Max grumbled to himself.
You coughed. You knew that you were an exception but you couldn’t help but mess around with your friends.
“Don’t even, Y/N. You know you don’t count. “ Max waved you off.
“Wow! Thank you for that babe. Way to make a girl feel special” you said jokingly to the Dutch driver, as you winked dramatically. To which he only rolled his eyes — making you and the rest of the drivers laugh.
Max was immune to your flirting, unfortunately. It sucked especially when you had a tiny …. Ok big … HUGE crush on the 3 time world champion.
Max to you was like an Older brother’s best friend — Where you were the little sister crushing on him and you didn’t have a chance. You knew that like the other drivers, he just saw you as a little sister. But still you couldn’t help but fall the star driver of Red Bull.
Everything started when you brought your niece to the paddock because your sister had an emergency. You were scheduled to interview Checo in the RB motorhome and your niece was starting to feel fussy and you were slightly panicking on what to do— when Max suddenly came to your rescue and took your niece out to ice cream.
You admit you found Max attractive even before— like so damn attractive, but that was it— nothing more. But when you found Max carrying your niece in his arms as they played inside his garage, you knew that you were a goner to the charms of Max Verstappen.
You have been pinning for Max for a year now. You wished that you had the confidence and courage to just confess. But the fear of rejection freighted you, so you settled to just keep your friendship with the devastatingly handsome Red Bull champion.
As time went on, and nothing but friendship between you and Max developed — You’ve come to terms with the process of letting go of your feelings. Even when you’ve already met his mom and sister, hung out in his yacht and spent nights over his place when movie nights with Charles and his girlfriend went too late. You knew not to think anything of it.
And you were right to think nothing of it. Because not a week later, rumors had spread all over the paddock that Kelly Piquet had set her eyes on Max. You didn’t believe it at first, but when you saw with your own two eyes them engaged talking happily in his garage. The sparkle in Max’s eyes had solidified your will to move on.
A few weeks had passed and Kelly’s presence was constant in the paddock. Everyone had speculated that she had become Max’s girlfriend. But no one was sure, not even you — Max had been silent about it.
You tried to be happy for them you did. But you can’t blame yourself for wishing that it was you instead. Even to this day, you are still trying to forget and bury your feelings for Max.
“Y/N? Y/N? Oi Y/N” You suddenly were startled out of your thoughts. You forgot that you were still with the drivers in your office.
“What? Sorry, I just remembered something. What did you say?” You asked Charles as he was the one who called you.
“I asked if you had an interview today” Upon hearing the words of the Monegasque, your eyes grew wide as you remembered that you did have a job to do and you were indeed almost late.
“SHIT! I DO I’m late! “ You suddenly sprang up from your seat and quickly gathered the things you needed — while the 4 drivers looked at you with amusement.
“Who’s scheduled for you today, Y/N?” Max had also sat up from his seat and gave you an opened bottle of water.
You received the bottle from Max. You didn’t have to thank the driver — just one look from you and he knew.
The other drivers looked amongst themselves as they saw your exchange with Max. Everyone had a knowing look on their faces.
“I'm going to Mclaren today! I have the whole day with Lando. “ You said as you closed your once abandoned laptop and placed it in your bag — the one Max gave you on your birthday.
“What have you planned for Lando, Y/N?” Checo asked curiously. He still remembered his interview where you both made bracelets and stuffed toys for his daughters — his daughters loved it and went to sleep with it every single day.
“Oh! I’m taking Lando to a rage room, then drive-thru for food.” You explained happily to the older Mexican driver.
“Which part of that is the interview?” Charles had interjected
“While we eat the food in the parking lot, duh,” You said as if they should’ve already known. Well, they should by now.
“You know Y/N, Lando likes you right? ” Carlos had suddenly dropped a bomb on you. You didn’t expect it at all.
“What?” Max had suddenly said — catching all of you off guard. You didn’t understand, why Max had reacted so suddenly. But you pushed that aside for now as you continued to stuff everything you need in the bag
“What do you mean, Lando likes me?” You asked Carlos, with your eyebrows scrunched together.
“He likes you. Like you know? Take you out on dates and all that” Carlos replied as he gauged your reaction.
“Ohhhh, that’s cute! how did you even know about it, Carlos” you asked not taking any of it seriously.
“Cute?” You heard Max muttered under his breath.
“He told me. I won’t spoil anything else. I’m not even supposed to say that he likes you, but oh well.” Carlos shrugged as he finished off his ice cream.
“What do you think about Lando?” Charles suddenly asked you. The Ferrari driver leaned forward
“Will you date him if he asks you ?” Checo then joined the conversation.
“ You should say yes, I mean you two are the same-“ Charles had suddenly grown excited.
“Ok whoa, calm down dads. He hasn’t asked anything yet! “ you exclaimed
“But will you say yes if he asked?” Max then asked you, his eyes piercing your soul. After all of the other questions, Max was the one to Catch you off guard.
“Uh yes, I guess? I mean, why not? Lando is fun And he is single right … ” You were panicking so you said yes, even when you knew that you weren’t ready for anything like that since you still held feelings for Max.
“ YES! I thought that you-“ Charles wasn't able to finish his sentence when you cut him off.
“OK, bye guys! See you later. I need to go!” And just like that you were gone, leaving the four drivers in your office — not letting them question you further.
“I swear, that kid is weird.” Charles shakes his head from side to side at your actions.
“Lando likes Y/N?” Max had asked again just to make sure that he had heard the Spaniard correctly.
“ Lando is a good kid. They’ll make a good couple, no?” Checo asked no one in particular, as Max was not moving from where you left him.
“Wait, wait… since when did Lando like Y/N?” Max asked confused, looking green with jealousy. Fingers tingling as they clenched on itself
“Well he was interested in Y/N since the beginning but he backed off since everyone thought that you two had a thing” Carlos explained as he stood up and went to raid your snack stash.
“Yeah, but now you’re with the daughter of Piquet. what’s her name again? KELLY! yes, kelly. So Lando is taking his shot” Charles added
“You knew? Charles, you knew about Lando?” Max was aghast at the knowledge that was just receiving now.
“Well yeah? I was the one to encourage him to ask Y/N out. ” Charles shrugged nonchalantly. He knew about your feelings for the Red Bull driver, but he also saw how hurt you were when Max started seeing Kelly out of nowhere. Charles wanted to help his friends — specially the ones that he grew to love like his own sibling in any way that he could. Plus it was time for Y/N to have fun, and Lando Norris is exactly that.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Max was conflicted. His emotions growing uncontrollably by the second.
“ Mate, we haven’t seen you for how many weeks! You were always out with your new girlfriend. Even Y/N had no contact with you “ Carlos explained to Max.
silence filled the room, when suddenly pings of notifications sounded all over the rooms.
And Charles couldn’t help but whistle.
“Well he sure does move past” he had added.
Your story
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As Max looked at his phone. Your Ig story flashed. His heart had started to hurt and the feeling of a pit in his stomach grew. it was as if someone punched him right in the gut.
And another notification ping had popped . And it only made Max’s stomach churn even further.
landonorris
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hvnyrt · 17 days ago
Note
Request: Jason is surprisingly affectionate in private
JASON TOOD X GN! READER
SUMMARY: You're tired, Jason takes care of you
WARNINGS: None, enjoy!
WC: 1.4k 
The door to your apartment closed softly behind you as you stepped inside, your body feeling heavy with the weight of the day. Gotham’s chaos had seeped into everything—into your bones, into your mind. You were physically and emotionally drained, barely able to summon the energy to hang your coat or kick off your boots. The city had a way of exhausting you, of leaving you with nothing to give. It had been one of those weeks—long hours, too much stress, too many things left undone.
But when you entered your living room, you didn’t expect to find him here. Jason Todd. You didn’t even know he was coming over.
He was sprawled out on your couch, leaning back with one leg draped over the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at his phone. There was a mug of coffee on the table in front of him, untouched, cooling. The lights were low, casting a soft glow that made the apartment feel more like a refuge than the outside world ever could.
You paused for a moment, not wanting to disturb him—until you noticed the way his posture changed when he heard you enter. His eyes flicked up from his phone, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, quickly replaced by something softer, more concerned.
"Long day?" he asked, his voice quiet, low, the usual edge replaced by a gentler tone.
You nodded, dropping your things in the entryway with a tired sigh. “It’s been a week,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes. “I’m... exhausted.”
Jason didn’t respond right away. He just looked you over, his eyes narrowing slightly as he registered the exhaustion on your face, the way your shoulders sagged in defeat. He was used to seeing people at their worst, but he wasn’t used to seeing you like this. Not like this.
“Come here,” he said, his voice no longer playful but soft, almost commanding in the way he said it.
You glanced at him, too tired to argue, and slowly made your way over to the couch. Jason shifted, sitting up straighter, making space beside him. Without saying anything, he reached out and pulled your legs onto his lap, arranging them carefully like he was afraid you might pull away, like he was trying to be gentle with you in a way he wasn’t always.
“Sit,” he repeated, this time with a soft insistence, as if his only goal was to make sure you found some comfort.
You hesitated for only a moment before sitting down next to him, sinking into the couch. He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile before grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over both of you. The weight of it was comforting, the fabric soft and warm. His arm naturally settled around your shoulders, pulling you closer, a silent invitation to rest against him.
"You’re too stubborn," he muttered, more to himself than to you, but the words were gentle, like a small reprimand for not taking better care of yourself. His fingers rubbed at the back of your neck, slow and soothing. "You push yourself too hard. You need to slow down."
You leaned your head against his chest, letting out a soft breath, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. The exhaustion was still there, but now it felt distant. For the first time all day, you didn’t feel like you had to be on alert. With him beside you, the weight of everything seemed lighter.
“I don’t know how to stop sometimes,” you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. “I just keep going. Even when I’m running on empty.”
Jason didn’t say anything for a while. Instead, his hand moved from your neck to your back, rubbing in slow, comforting circles as if trying to ease away the tension that had built up over the course of the week. You could feel the softness in his touch, the way he wasn’t rushing to do anything—just being present.
“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” His words were quiet but firm. "Let me take care of you for once. Let me help."
You swallowed, your throat tight at the unexpected vulnerability in his voice. It wasn’t often that Jason opened up like this. He had walls, thick and impenetrable, built from years of hurt. But tonight, he seemed to be letting those walls fall, just a little.
His hand slid down your arm, pulling you even closer to him, until your head was tucked under his chin. The rhythm of his breath steadied yours, and you felt something in your chest—something warm and soft—begin to unfold.
“You’re always the one taking care of everyone else,” Jason said, his voice barely a whisper. “But you deserve to be taken care of too. I’m not going anywhere. Let me help.”
You closed your eyes, trying to push away the tightness that had settled in your chest, the overwhelming feeling that had accompanied the last few days. But his touch, the heat of his body against yours, seemed to make the anxiety fade away, leaving only calm in its wake.
“Thank you,” you murmured, not sure if you were thanking him for the moment of peace, or for his willingness to show up when you least expected it. But the gratitude was there, unspoken but felt all the same.
Jason didn’t respond. Instead, he reached over and grabbed your tea mug from the side table, gently pressing it into your hands. “Drink. It’ll help you relax.”
You took the mug, the warmth of the tea seeping into your cold hands. You sipped it slowly, savoring the way it warmed you from the inside. Jason sat quietly beside you, his fingers still tracing small, comforting patterns on your arm as he watched you. There was no rush, no pressure to talk, to be anything other than what you were in that moment. He was giving you space to breathe, to let go.
As the tea worked its magic, you felt the tension begin to melt away. Your eyelids grew heavy, your body sinking deeper into the couch as Jason adjusted, his body angling closer to yours.
“Lie down,” he said softly, shifting you slightly so you were resting more comfortably on the couch. “You need sleep. You need to rest.”
You didn’t argue. It was too much to argue with him when you felt this good—when his care wrapped around you like a blanket, giving you the comfort you’d been lacking.
He rearranged the pillows behind your head, making sure you were propped up just enough. His hand was never far from you, always resting somewhere on your body, as though he couldn’t quite stop touching you. He wasn’t smothering you, though. It was a subtle, gentle thing—just enough to reassure you that he was there.
You closed your eyes, your body relaxed in a way you hadn’t felt in days. The weight of the world was slowly lifting, and with Jason beside you, you felt safe.
“You don’t have to do anything,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’ll be here. Just sleep.”
You nodded, too tired to say anything more. His hand shifted again, this time moving to your cheek, brushing a stray hair away as he gently cupped your face in his palm. His thumb traced over your skin, soft and slow, and for a moment, it felt like he was taking in every detail of you—every part of you that had been worn down, that needed healing.
And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Jason leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. The touch was tender, almost reverent, and when he pulled away, you could feel the gentle brush of his breath against your skin.
“Sleep,” he whispered again, the words a soothing balm.
Your eyelids fluttered closed, and you let yourself drift into sleep, the warmth of Jason’s presence grounding you, keeping you safe in the quiet moments. As you drifted off, you could still feel the steady rhythm of his hand on your back, the softness in his touch, the care he was offering so freely. You didn’t need to say anything more. Tonight, Jason had given you what you needed most: peace, tenderness, and a reminder that you weren’t alone.
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januaryembrs · 8 months ago
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THERE'S NO SIGN OF LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [3]
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Description: The one where you grieve Emily together (+ the one where you kiss him)
word count: 7.9k
trigger warnings: okay so this chapter is exactly how it sounds, heavy in themes of grief, depression, anger, slight ideation of the world being better without bugsy (as if), DRUG USE (once and not addictively and not by Spencer!), mention of Spencer being horny, mention on blood and drinking.
authors note: this was just supposed to be a little filler chapter for the next one where the real juicy shit happens and long story short it became nearly 8k words of pure angst until the last minute when I decided to stop hurting you all. please don't hate me, promise a big boy chapter is coming up.
previous chpt | next chpt
'Doctor, look into my eyes.
I've been breathing air, but there's no sign of life.'
The team had fallen into chaos since Emily died. Hotch thought that just five little stages of grief weren’t quite enough to summarise what they were going through.
Morgan was pissed off by the smallest things, had flipped shit just that morning because the printer had jammed. He'd gone through two mugs and a keyboard in just two weeks in his tempers that had certainly seen better days.
Penelope’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears she was trying her hardest to choke down, to wipe away so fast she could pretend to still see her computer screen, but Hotch didn’t need to be a profiler to see the way her sleeves were smudged with mascara, sodden through 24/7. 
Rossi seemed resigned, tired, his breath smelled faintly of the strong whiskey he saved for special occasions, his hair unkempt, as though he hadn’t slept until the early hours, or if he had it had been unrestful. He took more frequent breaks, came back smelling like the cigars he kept in his desk drawer for the bad days, and he sighed as if the world beat down on his back, like he’d been asked to choose between stopping world hunger or saving the environment. His chest was heavy. His face was tired of losing so many friends he loved.  
Spencer was working himself to the bone, his desk piled with books (even more so than usual), his fingers twitching by his side more often, as if his brain cells had been dialled up to a thousand percent, which was saying something when it came to Reid. In fact the only thing out of ordinary was the fact he was constantly checking his phone, the sight of which had Pen dropping her coffee on the rough carpet, which she had promptly then excused herself with watery eyes over. Yes, he actually knew how to use technology, which he had been so vehemently against for years, until the team realised it was because one very important member of the team had been using her sick days for three weeks now. 
They knew he was looking after her, that he would bring her dinner and make sure the cats were fed, but they had no idea she had all but moved in with him, Niko and Sergio included. 
Yet he found himself checking the screen every twenty minutes or so for signs of an update, even just a thumbs up or a little sign that said seen under his good morning texts. He was scared he’d wandered too far into boyfriend territory, it certainly felt that way when he would come home to see her bundled on the couch, nose deep in one of the books he would leave out for her, how her eyes would light up just the tiniest amount to see him home. She rarely cooked, he knew she didn’t even touch the food in his fridge no matter how much he reminded her she needed to eat when he wasn’t there, to which she usually just nodded at him and buried her head in his arm to escape the scoldings. 
Things were different with her here. He knew she was vulnerable, lost, he saw it every time she came crawling into his bed from where he’d set her up in the spare room, or when Sergio made himself home on her lap and she squeezed the cat to her chest in quiet tears. Usually he would have squirmed out of her grip, he had always preferred Emily, but these days he just let her sob with a docile blink at where Spencer watched her from the other end of the couch, and pretended not to notice when his fur was sodden and messed up. 
Spencer had felt something for her before, the weeks, months even leading up to Emily dying, but with her here, needing him all the time, holding him tightly when he needed to grieve himself, making herself at home in his personal space, he was sure she knew it too. There was no way she didn’t know how he felt. 
But the topic was too heavy, too complex to bring up with her mourning her sister, it would rip the carpet out from beneath her feet, and no matter how heavily, besottedly, how deeply Spencer felt he loved her, he would never do that to her. He couldn’t. 
He had always loved mind games, but loving someone so much you couldn’t not tell them, only to not tell them because you loved them so much felt like a whole paradox even he couldn’t wrap his big brain around. 
So they stayed where they were. She had good days, though they usually looked like said reading on the sofa with nothing but a strong cup of coffee in her stomach. And then she had bad ones. And the bad ones made him scared, so scared he had no choice but to get help. 
Penelope came over the Friday evening with Spencer after work, kitted out entirely with nail polishes and gems, the box set of Barbie movies, a hot chocolate mix she swore by, three tubs of ice cream, face masks, Teen vogue with a Never have I ever section ‘Begging to be answered’ and of course, her Pièce de résistance, her makeup kit and joke fluffy handcuffs for them to tie down Reid and give him a makeover. 
“Hello my handsome gentlemen,” She greeted Niko and Sergio who rushed to the door on instinct, knowing Spencer always gave them each a big handful of treats upon arriving home, “Auntie Penny is here for a super girly evening, no boys allowed,” 
“Am I not invited?” Spencer asked, faux hurt flashing on his face as he shut the door behind them, though his eyes were quick to scan around his living room for any sign of her. There wasn’t, not even a single pillow was out of place, and he knew it had been another day of skipped lunch and breakfast.
“You are, of course you are, I just didn’t want them to get jealous,” She whispered, her brown eyes taking in the too perfect apartment and the lack of the Prentiss girl, “Is she sleeping?”
“No,” He said without checking, because he knew she rarely slept nowadays unless she was in his bed with him, “I’ll go get her,” 
“Okay,” Some of the joy died out of her tone when she heard his voice soften sadly as she set her bags down on the kitchen counter, “I’ll get the hot chocolates ready!” Penelope tried to recover in that perky tone she used to cover up when something hurt her. 
He just hoped this had been the right decision, that he wasn’t pushing her too hard. 
Knocking softly on her door, he let himself in when he heard a small murmur on the other side, and as he suspected, she was curled into a small ball under one of his blankets, her hair wet, her pyjamas in the laundry basket. She had one of his shirts on and some boxers he had noticed had gone missing, but he would never hold it against her. 
She had showered while he was gone at least, and her breath was minty fresh as he crept over the woolly rug and kneeled one leg on the bedside. 
“Hey,” He started softly, sweeter than honey, his cadence somewhat hopeful as he leaned over her and stroked her hair that was still damp. “You got up! Did you eat anything?” 
She looked up at him with tired eyes, but she reached out with both her arms to embrace him gently, like she’d been waiting all day to have him near again. 
“I had a couple biscuits and some coffee,” Her voice was raspy, and it was the first he’d heard her speak in a few days. “I’ll try better tomorrow, I just was a bit tired today-”
“No, no, that’s great,” He rushed to comfort her, to stop the apology that was coming his way whenever she didn’t take care of herself the way he wanted her to, “Penny’s here to see you. She’s here for a girl’s night, if that’s okay?”
Bugsy attempted a smile, though she seemed hesitant, but he thought that was probably just the way her expression was these days, like everything hopeful had been sucked out of her. 
“I’ve missed Penny,” She said, and he knew she meant it. She nodded finally, and he leaned over her to give her a proper hug for putting on a brave face, feeling her nuzzle into his chest at the contact. She sniffed the air for a second, before whispering into his ear, “Is that chocolate?”
He chuckled, stroking down her back and pulling her up into a sit. He’d gotten used to her being pliant under his touch, and he only wished her being so receptive to his advances would be under other circumstances. 
The urge to grab her face and kiss every bit of hurt out of her was growing harder and harder to shove down with every day he saw her so soft and wounded. He wasn’t good at knowing what to say, but for her, he was trying to be. The only alternative was kissing her silly, until the pit she’d crawled into was warm, just warm all over, and she came back to him in one piece. 
“Yes, it’s chocolate. Now come on, before she starts the movie without us,” He breathed gently, helping her out of bed, pretending he didn’t hear the way her joints cracked with the first sign of movement in hours. “Wait a second, pants,” He reminded her, tossing her some sweatpants from the floor, which she shoved on blindly. He didn’t mind her walking around like that if it meant she were comfortable, but he didn’t want her to give Pen a scare. 
A ghost of a smile teased on her lips as he led her out the room with two hands on her shoulders, seeing the blonde woman light up like the fourth of July at the sound of the two of them approaching. 
“Bug!” Penelope called, mid way through distributing a hefty amount of whipped cream and marshmallows on top of three mugs. Spencer watched the second her eyes widened slightly as she took in the girl’s appearance, trying frantically to cover it with an even wider smile, rushing to hug her tightly. He saw the minute she realised she felt so different in her arms; lifeless, heavy, rooted to the spot, like any contact with someone other than the gentle Spencer-touches she was used to made her lock up. 
She looked sick, like she hadn’t known fresh air in weeks, or like she’d pulled three all nighters in a row, or like she would be able to watch a ten car pile up and not bat an eye. She looked dead. She felt dead in Penny’s arms. 
The thought of it made her squeeze her tighter, until she felt two arms cuddle her back firmly. 
“I see Spencer has been treating you well,” Pen said, because she was avoiding the subject of Emily, and the way Bugsy looked exhausted, and the way she saw how scared Spencer was when he’d come into ‘the bat cave’ that afternoon to ask for her help. 
Bugsy attempted another smile, nodding slightly as the blonde drew back from their hug, and she saw the worry she tried so desperately to hide as she took in her face. 
The girl’s skin was dull in a way they’d never seen her before, her expression tired, her bones creaky, like someone had reached down her gullet and plucked her soul right from out of her chest, snatched it there and then. Penelope saw why Spencer looked so worried. 
“He’s been great,” Bugsy replied simply, her eyes finding Spencer’s where he shadowed behind her, worried she would faint on the spot from all the movement. She’d not been eating anything other than what he encouraged down her throat, but he supposed a handful of biscuits were better than nothing. 
She felt the bottomless pit that used to be her heart rip open just that bit further, the way it had done slowly the past few days, eating away at her skin. She knew she could never ever repay Spencer for everything he was doing, knew the odd few times she’d managed to collect herself enough to be there for him when he cried could never amount to how he hovered over her every second he was home. 
But where she should have felt guilt, there was nothing, there was just nothing left of her. 
He seemed to notice the slip, the way he always did, and she never did tell him how perceptive he was as he stroked over the back of her hair, leading her with a warm hand on her upper back to the sofa where Pen had already laid out the movie selection, had already grabbed the hot chocolates that were quickly melting onto the coffee table, where Niko was waiting with an eager pink tongue to collect his share, where he settled her down and wrapped her in a blanket as if he was swaddling a baby, where he let her take the middle and him and Pen on either side as Fairytopia lit up his living room with hot pinks and rainbows and flowers and magic. 
And even though she had yet to crack a smile, a real one at least, she seemed content, not entirely uncomfortable with the evening as Penelope commandeered one of her hands to paint her nails a shiny blush colour  ‘to match the evening’. Spencer thought for a minute she might have just needed some girl time, something no matter how many cuddles and sweet words he whispered could never give her. Maybe that was all she’d needed. 
Maybe she would get through this without entirely crumbling.
It wasn’t until the next day when even showering was too big a feat for her, when she had only two mouthfuls of the blueberry pancakes he’d made her before she apologised with watery eyes that he realised how stupid he was for believing it. 
It wasn’t until she said she wanted to move back home by herself that he really started panicking. 
JJ took her out for a picnic in the park the following weekend. The guilt was eating her up alive about hiding Emily’s secret, and from what Pen had told her, she wasn’t doing good. She wasn’t even doing bad; she was barely hanging on by a thread. Hotch had said she would be a flight risk with her sister gone, had said they would need to keep an eye on her as much as they would the rest of the team, but for Emily’s safety she couldn’t tell her the truth. JJ could only stand back and watch as the girl they all knew crawled into something dark inside herself and barricaded the door closed. 
Spencer had taken the nice approach with her, never forcing her to do anything she didn’t want to or asking too directly, as had Penelope. They’d both tried letting her open up by herself, which had only resulted in the girl taking about five steps back and even starting to shut out Reid, something which they all saw tore him up even more than seeing her wasting away in his spare room. He spent more days at hers, crying harder than she had seen him even when he was struggling with opioids. Crying for Emily some of the time, but mostly crying for the fact he was entirely helpless now she had moved out, like the one thing that had held him upright until then had left in a guilty mess of ‘sorry’s and dead eyes.
So she instead took the approach of telling Bugsy she needed help. Because if there was one thing that had always been able to bend her will, it was someone else needing her. 
JJ thought about reminding Spencer that Bug would come back if he took the same route, if he just told her how badly he needed her instead of her feeling like she was simply a burden on his life. But she knew he wouldn’t hear it, he would only blame himself more. 
So she’d told Bug she was struggling with looking after Henry alone while Will was working away, that he’d been asking for her since she’d come to his second birthday party with the biggest stuffed whale toy he’d ever seen. It was a white lie, Will was home more days than she was, but Henry had been asking for ‘the bug lady’ every time he played with his teddy. And it worked like a charm. 
So they sat in the warm April breeze, Bugsy reading on her stomach as JJ carefully nudged a punnet of fat, red grapes her way, hoping she would take the hint and swallow a few. 
It wasn’t until Henry came diving over to them from where he was collecting snails by their shells that Bug even showed any sign of pulling herself out of the book. 
“Buggy!” The little boy called, his tongue struggling with the complexity of the ‘gsy’ sound, and she looked up at him with a tired smile on her face that JJ saw right through immediately. “Buggy, look,” 
She held out her hand, and he gently placed a common land snail in the palm of her hand, no bigger than a quarter, who happily slid over her fingertip with a squishy sensation. 
“Thankyou, Henry,” She replied, her eyes trailing over the shiny slime he left behind over her palm, his tiny antenna eyes googling up at her. “What should we call him?” 
“Sid’d’snail,” Henry replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, crouching next to her to watch him crawling over her chipped pink fingernails.
“Hi Sid,” She chimed, and JJ watched her face drop into a completely emotionless expression the second Henry’s back was turned to find Sid a friend. 
She felt it clawing at her throat to come out, Emily’s alive, Emily’s alive, come back to us please, please come back to us because Emily’s still alive. JJ was watching her rot in front of her very eyes, and better yet she had the power to stop it with those very few words. 
She could put an end to all of this, she knew how badly it had hurt when Ros died, her older sister, her whole world ripped from her the way Emily’s ‘death’ was doing to Bugsy. She would have given anything for someone to have turned to her and said ‘Jennifer, your sister is still alive. Jennifer, it was all a trick, a hoax, a ploy to keep you safe. Jennifer, Ros is still here, alive and breathing and living her best life in Paris of all places.’
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t betray Emily like that, and knowing, no matter how much of a relief it would come, would put Bugsy in more danger with Ian Doyle and whatever other enemies her sister had made at interpol than she could have ever realised. 
So instead, JJ just ran a gentle hand over her hair that warmed in the sun, and started braiding parts of it absent-mindedly, like they were two girls in a playground waiting for hometime.
JJ stayed quiet, and watched Bugsy get worse. 
Aaron came over to her apartment at 8am sharp. He’d found JJ and Penny in floods of tears in the women’s bathroom when they were due to start the presentation of the latest case and they were nowhere to be seen. Spencer had become detached, quieter with every day that he checked his phone and saw no reply, but had mentioned he’d seen them go into the bathroom together as he got his morning coffee, only for their boss to see the two of them clinging to one another with wet cheeks and before he could even ask, Penelope splurged that Bugsy hadn’t messaged in four days and was refusing to open the door, and that even Spencer asking so sweetly, something that was usually her kryptonite, had failed to draw her out. 
Aaron was convinced if this didn’t work he was kicking down the door himself, even if it meant filing paperwork for a necessary home visit. 
Aaron Hotchner, surprising to no one, was soft on the youngest Prentiss girl. He’d watched her grow for four years straight, had come to her of all people in his hour of desperate need, and felt every second of her grief as if it was his own because he, like JJ, knew he had the power to stop it all but couldn’t. 
He called her name through the door first, her real name, loud yet anxious, along with a firm knock. When he heard nothing back, he rapped on the wood louder, “Bugsy, I know you’re in there. The team are worried about you, they’re worried you’re hurt,” 
Nothing. 
And it wasn’t just the team that was worried, it was him too, if his heavy fists banging even harder were anything to go off of. 
“Bugsy, if you don’t answer I’m sending for the SWAT team and asking them to ram this door down,” He said, with not a trace of a lie in his tone. Because he wasn’t lying, not by a long shot. 
He heard footsteps then, and she appeared through a small crack in the doorway, not open enough for him to see the mess in her living room, but enough to see the way her entire face looked like a cadaver. 
He fought back against the guilt choking him from the inside out.  
“Stop yelling,” She murmured, almost bitterly, “You’re scaring the cats,” 
“You’re scaring us,” He countered back, in a tone that was a little too mean, but from what he heard, soft and gentle wasn’t working, “Please, just let us help you, stop pushing everyone away,”
“That’s a little pot calling the kettle black there, Hotch,” She said in an equally harsh tone, her face scrunching into a frown, and she nearly slammed the door on him right there and then. 
“Get your work out clothes on, we’re going for a run,” He ordered, and it was only then she notices his sport shorts and trainers. She scoffed in his face. He was quick to shove a foot in the door before she actually could swing it shut on him, ignoring the way he nearly yelped as it trapped between the wood, “I’m not asking,” 
“Fuck off,” She spat, and he bristled at her choice language, but he saw the way her eyes told him everything he needed to know. She was a roadkill on a sidewalk waiting to be put out of her misery; she didn’t want to be prodded and poked at and ordered around, she wanted out. 
She wanted to go quietly, without a fight. And it was for that reason, he put up more of a struggle. 
“You are coming outside with me, even if I have to drag you down the street myself because this is not how it ends for you.” Aaron barked back, forcing the door open with one of his large hands as if it was nothing.
“Of all people, I would have thought you would understand, Aaron,” It was like she had slapped him in the face, though he thinks maybe that would have hurt less, and it was only then he saw her eyes had welled up, and her bottom lip was quivering. It was a horrible sight, it twisted his guts like he’d been stabbed by Foyet all over again, but it was better than the nothingness that was there before. 
“Ofcourse, I understand,” His voice softened, his hands coming up to gently rest on her shoulder like she was breakable china beneath his palm, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to want to hide away and never face a world without Haley ever again? I can’t, even now, imagine the rest of my life with her gone,” His throat clogged with emotion he fought off, because he refused to have both of them crying in her living room when he was meant to be the one pulling her out of it, “But I do it because Jack needs me-”
“No body needs me,” She said emptily, ignoring the way Sergio wrapped his tail around her leg and meowed loudly as if to tell her otherwise. 
“Yes we do,” Hotch insisted, seriously, damn near ready to shake her on the spot to knock some sense into her, “We need you, and better yet we love you. You may have lost your sister, but you still have a family waiting for you, Bugsy,” 
And that was it, the single crack that broke the dam. Before he knew it she had launched herself into his arms in a fit of tears, clinging to him tighter than he thought she could for someone who looked so weak and perished. 
He just held her close, feeling his own stray tears drip down his nose as his shirt got wet through. In another life, maybe he and Haley would have had a daughter, and maybe she would have reminded him of Bugsy, maybe his heart would soften to putty just the same way it did with her. The same way it did for Jack. 
And eventually, when she dried her face, and quietened Sergio down, she went to put on her gym gear and one of Spencer's hoodies she’d stolen and felt too guilty to give back, and they went for a run.
If there was one thing Rossi knew better than his whiskeys, it was how to cook a good carbonara. And if there was one thing Bugsy needed more than anything at the moment it was a buttload of carbs and cheese. 
Aaron had been taking her running every morning since that day, and even she had to admit the fresh air and exercise did her good, made her feel stronger and less like the women they find in body bags at the beginning of a case, made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could get through the rest of this. 
It wasn’t going away overnight, not by any means, but she looked healthier, and her exhaustion meant she got more sleep too, but what remained was a hunger that she was filling with cereal and instant noodles that Rossi knew he had to put a stop to immediately. Instant noodles should have been outlawed with crack and underaged drinking, he would proudly tell her. 
So he invited her over for a cooking lesson, or as he would put it, she could watch him cook and eat as much as she wanted at the end, if she promised to never buy those awful microwave ramen ever again. And she’d agreed, because she felt her appetite coming back every day (and she knew where he kept the good white wine).
“Now as entertaining as this is watching you drain my stash of Sémillon, why don’t you chop up that pork and I’ll get started on the sauce.” He handed her a sharpened butcher’s knife, and the thin slices of seasoned ham, turning to use the stove for just a few moments, “You’re gonna add the cream in until it becomes thick, like cough mixture running off your spoon,” 
“Thick and creamy, you got it,” She chimed in, her fingers slicing the meat into strips, “Did you want this as diced or Julian?”
“Do you mean julienne?” 
“That’s what I just said,” He chuckled into the pot, his chest warming to hear some of that old bratty teenaged sass returning to her tone. He bet she would have run rings around him if she was his kid. 
“Diced, if you would,” David said, using a wooden spoon to stir in the thick cream little by little until the container ran empty. 
“Yes, Chef,” She hummed in response, flipping the chopping board around to begin slicing them the other side, “So, I’m guessing if I asked to try some of that Sauvignon I saw in the fridge, your response would be- oh motherfucker-”
David frowned, “Maybe not so harsh on the tongue but-” He turned around when he heard a hiss, and he quickly understood why she’d thrown the expletive out there. 
Her hand ran red with thick blood, dripping quickly down her arm, ruining her shirt. He didnt even care that his hand carved indian wood chopping board was permanently stained, or that the meat was contaminated, or that the blood trickled a little too quick over his floor, only that her eyes seemed suddenly far away as she did nothing to stop the cut gaping. It had caught her in a trance, one she was not even aware she had been sucked into until he grabbed a towel and headed for her. 
“Emily, no! Emily please, I need medical in here, we have an agent down! Emily, please, please don’t, please- Someone get medical, she’s bleeding-”
David’s hands grabbed a hold of her bloodied palm, wrapping it tightly in the cloth, so harshly it knocked her out of the daze she was in, dragged her out from the last time there was blood all over her hand, when it had been Emily’s blood, when she could do nothing but freeze like she had now. 
“I’m fine,” She said on a reflex, even though he hadn’t asked, he had just acted, pulling her towards the cupboard where he kept the first aid kit, “David, I’m totally fine, it’s just a little scratch,”
“You have to let me go,” Emily had gasped. "Let me go, Bug,"
“David, I’m fine, stop worrying,” She said again when she saw him fussing, hoping he couldn't see the way she’d started shaking, and if he had, she wondered if she could play it off as the adrenaline rushing to fix the wound. 
She knew she was on thin ice with the lot of them after her talk with Aaron. Like he said, they were her family, and family’s took care of one another. She couldn’t live with herself if she kept burdening them so much, kept them from grieving their partner just as much as she was; she loved them too. 
Bugsy was trying to get better, she really was. Sometimes it was just a little difficult, like now when she could still see Emily’s butchered body infront of her as if she were little more than that joint of pork she’d been julienning. 
“It’s okay to get hurt sometimes, kid. You don’t have to lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt if it does,” David said, sitting her back on the breakfast table, holding the bloodied cloth up where he was unravelling a spool of bandage and some rubbing alcohol. 
She shut up then, and she wondered if she was really that see through or if David was just that good at his job. They stayed silent, except for the moan of pain she let out when he doused her hand in the solution, pulling the skin closed tightly and wrapping it taut enough for her to feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. 
“It’s okay if you need a little help once in a while,” He continued, his movements gentle and careful, worried he’d spook her with the first real conversation they’d had in a long time. Rossi had always been closer to Emily than he had her, and maybe it was the fact he lost the few chances he had to be a father, or just the fact she reminded him so much of her older sister, but being with her felt like part of the wound in his chest was the one being treated. “Rather than being afraid to ask for help, remember this: When you ask someone to help you, you are actually doing them a tremendous favour by giving them an opportunity to feel needed.” 
“Is that a David Rossi original, or did you get that from one of your self help books?” She sniffed, hoping he didn’t see the way her expression had fallen, or her throat caught with an apology, or how she hid it with a small smile. 
“Richard Carlson.” He replied, pinning the end of the bandage in tight enough it wouldn’t snag. He sighed, looking at the girl who started guiltily at her fingers, reaching behind her for the corkscrew, “I’ll go get the Sauvignon, you order us a pizza. Just please god, no pineapple, that’s just as bad as instant noodles in my books. That’s like asking Da Vinci about bitcoin, it’s madness,” 
And that was the first time she properly laughed in weeks. 
While Derek was more than equipped to schmoozing the ladies when he wanted a date with them, he had not been ready for this when he’d asked Bugsy to go to the club with him.
She had been doing better, Rossi had said. She had seemed stronger, that was what Hotch had told him. Spencer said they’d even gone for coffee together. He left out the part where it felt awkward and almost like they were seeing an ex, though that of course would be impossible, because they were never dating. At least as far as he knew anyway. 
It had been going fine, they’d gotten two rounds of drinks, had been chatting and she’d even been giggling the more the alcohol hit her. She was looking more like she used to, and it almost all felt like a horrible dream hearing from the rest of the team the state she was in. 
He’d turned his back for a second, for two damn seconds, and she’d been whisked away by some frat boy, and come back to him with a crazy happy look in her eye that he didn’t notice until an hour later. 
“Where did you go, kid?” He’d asked, and she’d shrugged like it was nothing. 
“Needed the bathroom,” She said, and he hadn’t even noticed it was a lie until the light struck her eye for more than a couple seconds and he saw just how dilated her pupils were, like the blackness swallowed her iris whole, and the way she buzzed on the spot with more energy than she’d had in months. 
She was supposed to be getting better, and she was trying, really she was. 
But she couldn’t stop seeing the blood on her hand, couldn’t stop seeing Emily’s face now she could actually sleep again. 
Spencer was half way through his fourth re-read of War and Peace, in its original Russian translation, when he got the knock on the door. 
It was 10pm, he muttered to himself, who was bothering him at this time. 
But of course, as luck would have it, it was the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about, the one person who he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the past three years. 
“Spencerrrrrrr!” She chirped, and immediately alarm bells were ringing in his head, her fingers linked with Morgan’s as if he’d all but pulled her to his apartment from the cab. 
She wasn’t stumbling, and she smelled a little like alcohol, but not so much that her inhibitions would be completely destroyed, so he knew it wasn’t that. And Derek looked guilty, a serious kind of guilty like he’d suggested they take a drive on a motorbike with no helmet, or go chasing unsubs unarmed. 
It wasn’t until she flung her arms over his shoulders, and he’d pulled her inside, Morgan following behind with a nervous clear of his throat that he realised what it was. 
“Spencerrrr, I missed you! I missed you so much, Spencer!” And usually he’d love the way she said his name, but this time it was tainted, too false, too electrified. It barely even sounded like her, he hated the way his heart still pounded out of his chest at the fact she pressed herself so close in that little clubbing top of hers, those tight jeans. 
“What did she take?” He ignored her little hums of a song he couldn’t hear, the way she pushed herself even further into his body in a way he knew too well felt like a warm hug throughout her entire being. “Morgan!” 
Spencer had never snapped at him, not since his own days on whatever it was he was doing, and Morgan ran a hand over his face as she nuzzled her nose into his neck. 
“I don’t know, I swear. I turned my back for two seconds to get us another drink, and next thing I know this senior is hitting on her and she’s shoving gum in her mouth and coming back towards the bar- I don’t know what it was, I swear I thought it was gum, man,” Derek rushed, hating the look of desperation in Spencer’s eyes as he yanked her away from him with a small mewl of protest from her mouth. 
“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me,” He murmured, and she did, and he saw almost immediately the way her pupils were the size of saucers when she stared at him, crazed and intoxicated, “Do you remember what you took? I need to know so I can keep you safe,”
“You always keep me safe, so safe with Spencer,” She giggled to herself, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge, not until he got a real answer, “Come on, I’m going to be fine, it was just a little Molly, nothing to worry about. Kid even gave me a half for like ten dollars because he said I was reeeeeal pretty. Do you think I’m pretty Spence? I think you’re pretty, I think you’re super pretty,”
They felt themselves sigh in relief, because while still a drug, half of one pill shouldn’t really do much, especially if it was the cheap stuff going around frat houses that the DEA was having a field day with. 
Morgan looked at Spencer, where he let her shove her face against him once more, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling her sigh in relief that she was back there under his warm touch, and they shared the same thought. 
This never happened. 
Because if it did, it meant opening a can of worms Spencer had tried for years to shut tight. It meant acknowledging that the reason Morgan came to him and no one else was because he knew Spencer would know how to handle her when she was coming down in an hour or so. It meant acknowledging why Spencer would know that, and why they hadn’t acknowledged it the first time around. It meant their jobs would be on the line, and so was hers, and as much as she was struggling at the moment, they knew she just slipped up, and that this wasn’t who she was. They knew she could be better, that Spencer would force her to get better, because if the only other option was having her turn into who he used to be, then he was handing in his notice first thing Monday morning. 
That wasn’t an option in Spencer’s books, nor was it in Morgan’s. 
So Morgan left with a little pat on the back of her head, claiming she was a little troublemaker, though he hadn’t quite sounded as teasing as he’d intended and more bitter, and leaving Spencer with her to minimise the damage. 
Bugsy let him lead her to the spare room that once was hers, but she didn’t quite care enough to say anything other than, “I missed you so much,” As she pushed her face into his neck more. 
He sighed, sitting her down on the bed, knowing where she’d left some of her makeup wipes in his bathroom. 
“Stay right here, I’ll be right back,” But she whined again, making a grab for his hand, which he quickly avoided, feeling mean for it the moment he saw her face scrunch in hurt. He stroked her hair behind her ear, watching her melt under his touch, and it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she had never moved out, and like she hadn’t just burst back into his life after popping a bit of molly and turning his evening upside down, “I missed you so much, too, Bug,”
And he wasn’t lying. Not even a little bit. 
She looked up at him with those dazed pupils, as big as dimes as they batted up at him dreamily, and some awful part of him always wanted her to be looking at him like that, like everything he ever did in his life was perfect and he was a god among men. Like she was seeing her favourite movie for the first time on the big screen, when in reality he was just wiping her makeup off her face and handing her spare clothes to change into so she could sleep off the come down. 
It wasn’t until he tried to leave again to go get her some water that she put up a real fight, one that couldn’t be fought off with a gentle touch (he tried), and she was quick to grab his wrist, tug him closer to her. 
“Bug, I’m getting you-”
“Come lay down with me, let’s talk. I love talking to you, why haven’t we talked in so long?” She said like every barrier she ever put up had come tumbling down and her mouth was a free for all for her every thought. 
Spencer smiled despite himself, his honeycomb eyes soft as he shuffled to lay beside her, and they stared at one another, heads against the same pillow, and she looked soft than an angel laying on his bed waiting for a response. She looked happy for the first time in a long time, and he hated how much it suited her. 
“You moved out, remember, bug? You said you wanted to go home and I didn’t want to stop you,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to upset her. But she just giggled and shook her head like he’d told her a joke. 
“Oh, yeah. But I didn’t really want to go home. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you forever,” Bugsy giggled to herself, wiggling her toes inside her socks and running a finger up his arm gently as she lay on her side, “I missed you so much,”
His brow furrowed, “What do you mean you didn’t want to go home?” But she wasn’t listening, she was tracing over his face with her fingertip, running over his nose gently, past his full lips that quivered under her touch, “Bug,” 
“Hm?” 
“What do you mean you didn’t want to go home? Why did you leave?” He asked again, and she looked back up at him with a shrug, shuffling closer to him, so close he could feel her breath fan over his cheeks. 
“I thought here with you was my home. I wanted it to be.” She said, her fingers finding their way into his nightshirt, “But I felt too guilty being so sad all the time, like I was getting my sad all over you and you couldn’t do anything about it because I was the loser girl with the dead sister you had to look after,” 
His eyes burned with emotion, and he willed himself not to cry, because suddenly it made sense why she had pulled away so fast. She looked at him like he’d hung the damn cosmos in the sky; had he not even paid attention to the letter she’d written Emily. She felt like she was dragging him down, the way she felt about everyone in her life, and decided to cut herself free before she took him with her. And look where that had landed her. 
He felt like a fool. 
“No, no,” Spencer whispered, pulling her into his arms, because he was scared that come morning she would take a million steps back and up and leave him all over again, “That’s not true, that could never happen, you hear me? I liked taking care of you, I wanted to take care of you.” 
“Really?” She asked hopefully, her face soft and dream-like, “I liked taking care of you too, when you would let me,” 
It was true he had tried to push his own feelings on the back burner, besides the few times the dam had cracked and he wound up with his head in her lap receiving the brunt of the affection that evening. He didn’t know why he ever doubted she would have wanted to do that; when he had his migraines she had done nothing but love on him until he felt full to the brim of her warmth. 
He felt himself chuckle, and she shuffled entirely into his arms then squashing out any last molecule of space left between them, and his hand slid over the back of her head, fingers rubbing softly into the nape of her neck which only made her moan loudly, entirely unaware of how sensitive her skin was from the molly. 
“That feels nice, Spencer,” She hummed, her thighs straddling his own as she squished herself against him more, “You feel so nice, I love you so much.” 
He would be lying if he  said the sounds she was making didn’t shoot straight to his dick, and hoped more than anything that she couldn’t feel how it pressed against his stomach angrily. His heart beat rattled loudly, and he swore she had to be able to hear it.
“I love you too,” Spencer sighed, wishing he could have said this to her sober. Wishing she wouldn’t shut him out so easily, wishing he’d pushed her walls a little harder. 
Then she did something he wasn’t expecting. It took all of two seconds for him to close his eyes and hum in content, where her hands were playing with the soft of his waist, and his fingertips stroked her jaw gently, but in a quick movement she planted her lips on his in a soft, sweet peck that he barely had time to register was happening before he pulled away in shock. 
She kissed him. She had kissed him. 
And he wanted her so badly, wanted her in every way it was possible to have someone, wanted to kiss her so hard his face went blue and his lips went numb and his throat burned with lack of oxygen. But he would never dare do anything when she was like this; vulnerable, intoxicated, unaware that the pill she’d taken had acted like a truth serum.
“We’re so silly,” Bugsy giggled, and for a moment she looked twenty two again, like the girl that had answered the door to him in college in nothing but her boxers and a shirt, with her metal music playing so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears minutes after she’d switched it off. She looked like his Bugsy again. 
Spencer chuckled with her incredulously, feeling his face on fire from her action, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest that had been immovable for months, because as hard as her come down would hit her, things seemed different now, like they actually had a kicking chance of getting through the grief together. 
But before he could say anything else, her eyes had fluttered shut under the warmth of his palm, and she had drifted off to sleep. 
He guessed he’d have to tell her tomorrow. 
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tender-rosiey · 2 months ago
Text
a fleur anew — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: inspired by this post and the idea of sukuna choosing a peaceful life when he is reincarnated but i added a twist of my own hehe; tyyy @yeagersss
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the days pass slowly in this quiet life, far removed from the chaos sukuna once knew. he never imagined peace would feel this way—soft, almost too easy.
in his former life, he ruled through fear, each breath a struggle for dominance, but that was all in the past. this life is different.
he has been reincarnated, and while the memories of his former self remain like faint echoes, they don’t hold the same grip on him anymore. they’re reminders of who he once was, but not who he is now.
not in this life.
what surprises him most, however, isn’t the peace. it’s you.
sukuna’s first encounter with you is unexpected. he has no reason to approach anyone in this new life, and people often give him a wide berth, instinctively wary of the undercurrent of danger he still carries.
yet you, unknowingly, stumble into his life with a warm smile, unafraid.
he is sitting quietly on the edge of a small, secluded garden when you wander by, humming softly to yourself as you carry a bundle of wildflowers.
you don’t notice him at first, not until you’re just a few feet away, completely engrossed in arranging the flowers in your arms.
“ah—oh, sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you say, stopping short and giving him an apologetic look.
he stares at you in silence, his usual cold indifference firmly in place. people rarely speak to him so casually, so openly, as if he isn’t someone to be wary of. but you… you’re different.
you don’t seem to notice the subtle menace that keeps others at bay. instead, you give him a small smile and, after a moment of awkward hesitation, extend one of the wildflowers from your bundle toward him.
“for you,” you say. “flowers can make things better, y’know?”
he blinks, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. what kind of fool offers flowers to someone like him? but there’s no malice in your eyes, no hidden agenda.
just simple kindness.
he doesn’t reach for the flower, doesn’t move at all, really. he just stares at you, his mind trying to make sense of this strange, almost laughable gesture.
you don’t seem bothered by his lack of response. instead, you smile again, this time a little wider, before placing the flower on the bench, right beside him.
“there. now it’s yours, even if you don’t want to take it,” you say lightly, as if gifting a flower to a near stranger is the most natural thing in the world.
and just like that, you’re gone, walking away without waiting for a thank you, without expecting anything in return. sukuna watches you go, the wildflower sitting beside him.
he doesn’t know what to make of you at first. he’s met thousands of people in his former life, most of whom were either terrified of him or sought to manipulate him for their own gain.
but you… you gave him a flower. a simple gesture, but one that sticks with him long after you disappear down the path.
he doesn’t expect to see you again, but somehow, you keep appearing in his life. a few days later, he sees you again, sitting by the same garden, your face lit up in concentration as you braid more wildflowers into little crowns.
you don’t seem to notice him at first, but when you finally look up, your face brightens with recognition.
“hey, it’s you again!” you call out, waving him over. “do you want to sit?”
he doesn’t respond, but something about the way you speak to him—so unaffected, so genuine—keeps him from walking away. instead, he moves to sit beside you, his silence heavy between you.
for a while, neither of you speak. you continue weaving your flower crown, and he simply watches, unsure of what to make of this strange, peaceful interaction.
he isn’t used to company, and yet, your presence doesn’t feel intrusive. it’s… easy.
and that’s how it begins.
over time, he finds himself seeking you out more often. you never pry, never ask questions that might stir the memories he isn’t ready to share.
you don’t know about his past life, the blood and carnage that once defined him, and he has no intention of telling you. to you, he’s just another person living in this small, quiet town.
you treat him like he’s normal.
it isn’t long before sukuna finds himself wanting to do something in return, though he can’t quite understand why.
he isn’t the type to give, isn’t the type to care. and yet, for reasons that elude him, he begins leaving flowers for you—quiet gestures, subtle reminders of his presence.
at first, it’s just a single flower, left on your windowsill early in the morning before you wake. the next day, you find another one tucked neatly beside your door.
you never ask if it’s him, but you always smile when you find them, tucking the flowers into little vases or pressing them between the pages of your books.
“did you see the flower by my door today?” you ask casually, your tone light and teasing.
he grunts in response, not admitting anything but not denying it either. you never press further, and he likes that. it’s easy with you—no expectations, no need for explanations.
but one evening, you finally catch him in the act.
he’s placing a small white bloom on your windowsill, the fading light casting soft shadows around him, when you step outside. for a moment, you both freeze, your eyes widening slightly in surprise.
“sukuna?” you say, tilting your head as you walk closer, a soft smile playing on your lips. “what are you doing?”
he straightens, his usual mask of indifference slipping into place. “nothing,” he mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. “just passing by.”
you laugh softly, your eyes twinkling with amusement as you reach for the flower. “you pass by an awful lot, you know.”
he doesn’t respond, his eyes narrowing just a bit, though there’s no real hostility behind it.
still, you hold the flower delicately between your fingers, studying it for a moment before turning to him with a smile. “thank you, sukuna. I really like it.”
he blinks, the words catching him off-guard.
it’s such a simple thing—a flower—but you say it like it matters. like he matters. for a moment, something warm and unfamiliar stirs in his chest, something he isn’t entirely sure how to handle.
“it’s just a flower,” he says calmly.
“maybe,” you reply, your smile softening. “but it’s thoughtful. and that means a lot to me.”
he doesn’t say anything after that, just nods curtly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he turns to leave. but as he walks away, he can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.
after that night, the flowers become a more regular occurrence. you never directly acknowledge that they’re from him, and he never admits to it, but the quiet understanding between you grows stronger with each passing day.
and as much as sukuna tries to resist it, he finds himself wanting more of this—more of you.
one evening, as the sun dips below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the town, you both sit together in the fading light. you turn to him, “sukuna, why flowers?”
he pauses, his gaze focused on the horizon.
when he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost contemplative. “they’re…fleeting,” he says, his words carrying a weight that surprises even him. “but they make things better, even if only for a moment.”
a grin makes its way up your face, and you hum, “I think it’s more than enough.”
he doesn’t respond, but you feel the subtle shift in his posture, the way his arm moves just slightly to rest behind you, pulling you closer. it’s his way of saying what he can’t put into words, his way of telling you that in this life, he has chosen you.
and for the first time, in this quiet, peaceful existence, sukuna feels something he hasn’t felt in centuries—contentment.
he decides that this will be how he spends this lifetime: with you.
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