#And I'm sorry but I think some of you need to ask if a future as a good boy fox hero who gets entirely new friends and family outside of

[thespianinthebackcorner]

I think part of the reason this narrow definition of "canon" is also part of why people are so incensed about other stuff that has degraded fandom culture nowadays too. Along with a lack of media literacy, people have begun to expect things served to them on a platter exactly as it says on the tin- but that's just not how art works. You cannot have a functional clock without the gears, and good art has a great many gears hidden beneath the surface. For a piece of media to operate at its full capacity and do what it is meant to- in this case, serve as queer representation- you cannot show every single gear in the clock, and often- especially in modern society, where it is still for some reason a dangerous struggle to have that queer representation included in mainstream media- sometimes it is better, necessary, to hide the gears and let the audience figure out the true nature of the clock and what makes it tick the way it does. It's a very recent phenomenon that media has begun to be blatant about their representation and allowed the characters to be obvious about who they are, and people are taking this openness for granted and not looking back to see how we got to this point.

This also means people don't learn to see what is and is not good representation, as when you learn the structure of the gears and how to spy the right kind of a clock, it becomes easier to find the gilded models made only for money and not out of love for the craft and the purpose. If you do not learn to find the "hidden" representation, the gears just below the surface, you cannot possibly learn to find everything below, all the mechanics that make the gears turn, the source of the energy- and, in turn, you cannot recognise a good, beautiful, clock deserving of your love and worth the time and effort made to make it, and you cannot learn to tell those from the cheap imitations made to trick people into buying half-broken clocks with no soul behind their creation, only greed. I myself, as of now, can often only find the mechanics of the upper layers, the more obvious things, and often have to be told what is and is not good representation by those who are more experienced. But it is a skill you must learn and hone, as the more you learn to recognise the maker's mark of a good clock, the more you learn to discard the fakers and push them to do better.

As artisans like I am, it is even more vital a skill, to recognise what you may be unconsciously putting into what you are crafting. I can create a few levels deeper than I can recognise, but analysis of your own work- and asking others to analyse it for you- is necessary to grow this skill so that not only do you avoid mixed messages, you can fight biases hidden further than you might be able to see at first. This is still something I need to learn and hone, too- I still have some internalised ableism, and I've had to come face-to-face with that as I write my first HMS fic (hence why chapter 2 is taking so long, sorry guys. I didn't know it was there until I started research for Heart). I have to learn to discard it and put the effort in to ensure I don't accidentally write that into the story as a subtextual message, and that isn't easy, but I'm learning. And so long as I keep learning, eventually I will overcome it and by nature learn to see and create even deeper into the gears of this clock I am just beginning to craft- and all the others I haven't started and haven't finished and haven't yet come across but will in the future.

I hope this analogy makes some sense.

Discussions of what "counts" as "canon" queer representation fall apart the second you start talking about media older than about five years or so. If your only metric for "canon queerness" is a character looking directly into the camera and explaining their identity in specific, modern, US-American-English terminology, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like. If your barometer for what counts as "canon" requires two characters of the same gender to kiss on-screen, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like.

Dr. Septimus Pretorius (portrayed by Ernest Thesiger in 1935's Bride of Frankenstein) was never going to look directly into the camera and explain his sexuality in 2024 terms, but he remains an icon in queer media history. You cannot look at that character (blatantly queer-coded in the manner of the time, played by a queer man in a film directed by another queer man) and tell me that he isn't a part of queer media history.

To be honest, even when discussing modern queer media, I would argue that the popular idea of what "counts" as "canon" is very narrow and flawed. I've seen multiple posts in the past few days that say the Nimona movie is "implied" trans representation, and I just...no, y'all, it's not "implied," it's an allegory. The entire damn movie is about transgender struggle, and the original comic is deeply tied into N.D. Stevenson's own queer journey. It isn't subtle. You cannot look at that movie and pretend that it isn't about trans struggle. It's blatant, and to say that Nimona "isn't canonically trans" is a take that misses the story's entire message, and the blatant queerphobia that almost kept the movie from happening. (I wrote a five thousand word essay about the topic.)

Queer themes, queer coding, queer exploration, and queer representation can all exist in a piece of media that doesn't seem to have "canon queer characters" on the surface. Most queer characters are never going to be able to explicitly state their specific identity labels, be it due to censorship or just due to the fact that scenes like that don't fit in some narratives. Some stories aren't conducive to a big "so what's your identity?" scene.

Explicit, undeniable, "this is my identity in no uncertain terms" scenes are very important and radical, and I'm not saying they shouldn't ever exist. I am saying that you can't consider those scenes the only way for queerness in a piece of media to be "canon."

[makeyoumine69]

Hello dear people in my beloved American Psycho fandom! I couldn't force myself to write this post because I didn't know how to do it, but I think now is the right time. I promised myself not to bring personal stuff into my writing, but since one thing affects another, I think I should finally speak up.

This year started pretty bad for me, I was suffering from a huge apathy and my mental health was probably in the worst state in the last few years. I had to cut ties with a lot of people and distance myself, and I'm really sorry for doing that, but I had no choice because I was literally dying from the inside. When I came back to Tumblr in 2022, I was absolutely alone and I had no friends, no followers and in some ways I felt calm and peaceful. I always thought and probably still think that I should be alone and isolated from everyone, like a soulless writing machine just producing fanfictions for people to consume. Maybe this is not a bad thing, because interacting with people always carries the risk of getting bruised?

Anyway, the thing that broke me completely was the news I received in the last days of January that I would be fired in February because my company decided to close the project I was working on due to the high inflation and bad economic situation in Russia. So now I have to find a job within February because I have a lot of financial responsobilities like paying for the medical treatment my family is getting. My grandmother was diagnosed with kidney cancer and her surgery was paid for by me and my fiancé, but the medicine costs a lot, so… after I told my mom about my news, she blamed me for everything. I was not really surprised though, considering that I have been having fights with my whole family for the past few months over different topics, but mostly they hate me for my political opinions. Whenever I say that I am tired of the war, sanctions and all the other stuff that 2022 has brought, they call me a fucking traitor. My family is ready to cancel me just because I told them I was tired of living in isolation, that I had even forgotten what my life was like before the war. My fiancé is literally the only person in my family who supports me, and even though I'm going to lose my job, he told me he would do anything for me, for us, but I don't want to be a burden. I'm really scared about the future, I think I really am now.

So, I'm sorry for not finishing the Christmas fics I promised to post, I'll try to finish them soon. Also, I'm sorry for not being active with fulfilling the requests and replying to your asks. I'm really sorry. And I know some of you might think that why I keep writing new series and working on different stuff while I have WIPs I need to finish—I'm just trying to follow my muse and I can say that it's really unstable these days, but I'm really trying to do my best and deliver something good for all of you!

I also want to thank all of you who have supported me with your donations! It means the world to me! Unfortunately, my account on the platform I was using for donations has been suspended because of… DOLLARS! They think I'm a scammer or something because the dollar is such a cursed currency in Russia right now, so I don't know if they'll unban my account, I hope they will.

Okay, that was longer than I thought it would be. To end this crazy rant, I just want to thank you guys for sticking with me no matter how fucked up I might be! I believe that one day I will find my way back to myself so that I can come back strong and refreshed!

[kawaiijohn]

Observant Vessel Danny au 😍🥹

A Body that is No Longer His

Rating: T

Content warnings: Danny gets kidnapped and used. Themes of abuse in general. Dehumanization (referring to Danny as an 'it' despite that NOT being his pronouns SMH)

Summary: In which Danny becomes a vessel for the Observants; not of his own free will, but to save his own skin.

This has been sitting in my inbox for like three years, I'm so sorry. I hope you enjoy @modordracena

Read on Ao3 and give me comments?

---

“I didn’t even do anything! Not this time!!” 

Danny yells as Clockwork blocks his small form partially– their cape acting as a shield between him and the very angry horde of Observants who had chased him to Long Now from his school.

“You are a dangerous Liminal entity operating without a proper overseer!” One of the eyeballs responds.

“We have allowed your shenanigans to ensue for far too long– you are dangerous!” Another of the eyeballs adds.

“Gentleghosts, please. Come into my foyer and take a seat– surely we can talk this out civilly without needing to yell at a mere ghost child?” Clockwork deflects as chairs appear between them and the Observants. Danny can tell the Ancient is seething internally and barely keeping calm at the moment.

The lead Observant, taller and with a larger amulet around its head, floats forward, vanishing the furniture between it and Clockwork with a wave of its hand. 

“A mere ghost child? Clockwork, you must think us blind! You have defied our orders several times over to take  proper responsibility for this abomination long enough!” 

Clockwork hisses through their teeth and guards Danny more thoroughly, painfully gripping the boy’s arm to shove him deeper under their cape.

“Proper responsibility? Forcing compliance through manipulation is not responsibility! It teaches nothing of what Daniel needs to learn, and only instills obedience through fear, compliance through domination! It is cruel and unusual to put a child through abuse to prevent what may happen some day in the far future–”

The head Observant waves its hand and Clockwork becomes silent– their mouth moving before they fall resigned at attempting to speak. It approaches the duo with a darkened eye.

“We have seen enough potential futures to know that the Liminal child will lead the Realms to ruin– should it not be guided with a firm hand, which you continually refuse to supply. Your hands-off  ‘ teaching ’ strategy is nowhere near enough to prevent such compounding tragedy! Either you can rescind your guardianship by choice, or we can take the Liminal by force to do with it as we see fit.”

Clockwork glowers at the eyeball and looks down at Danny– their face torn by a level of emotion he normally never sees in the ancient. They mouth an apology silently before hugging Danny tightly and relinquishing their hold on him. Danny blinks in confusion before Clockwork prostrates themself before the Observants.

“Clockwork? What are you–”

Suddenly sound returns to the Ancient with a wave of the lead Observant’s hand– gears that had been silenced suddenly coming to life with a soft tik-tok accompanied by the sensation of sand sliding between his fingers.

“Do not End him– please. I beg of you. He is only a boy– Please, I can’t lose someone else , great Observers.” Clockwork begs with more emotion in their voice than Danny has ever thought possible– tears of sand fall from their red eyes as their gloved hands scrape against the floor. “Please–”

“Oh our dearest Clockwork, we know it to be hard to do the right thing when it comes to the things we care for–” The lead Observant floats ominously towards Danny, who tries to futilely back away. “– but sometimes a guardian needs to find something more suitable for their charge, lest permanent damage be done.”

Danny watches in horror as a clawed, green palm closes in on his vision, before everything goes black.

---

“So why haven’t you guys like… wasted me yet?” Danny asks from the hanging cage of his cell. His feet dangle through the gaps as he is displayed like a prize songbird in the middle of the Council of Eyes– an apt name for a fuckton of Observants. “It’d probably be easier than arguing for a million years.”

“We are trying to decide which fate will bring the most good to the Realms, which if you were not a C student, you would have likely remembered.” One of the eyeballs– the one with the most nasally voice– responds.

Danny groans. He shouldn’t be suggesting the Observants kill him off, but he always has a darker sense of humor when he’s stressed, sleep deprived, or bored. And currently, he’s all three.

The Council has been holding him in a Liminality absorbing cage for over a week now; keeping him trapped in his human form and bored out of his damn mind. He feels as if he’s watching the most boring episode of ghost C-Spann in the universe. Hey! Who knew ghost politics were just as boring as human ones?

“Why not use it as bait for the most violent offenders of the law?” one Observant suggests.

“And risk losing a bargaining chip on our first try!” another retorts.

“I still say we should toss it to one of the lostlands and rinse our hands of the whole thing!” a third adds.

“And what, risk time locked realms using it for themselves! It would cause utter anarchy!”

Danny scratches idly at his scalp as the eyeballs treat him like a tool or pet more than a person. The dehumanization was grating his last nerve three days ago.

“Why not just let me go? I’ll stop meddling with ghosts and stay in my own town forever!” Danny calls down to the rabble, causing them to start arguing even more when one of the Observants briefly considers it.

He wants to go home– he misses Tucker and Sam. He misses Jazz. Hell, he even misses Mr. Lancer and his book-isms more than he thought was possible.

Danny listens to the council drone on and on for what seems like hours before his eyes grow heavy and he falls asleep curled in the bottom of his cage.

Danny is awoken by the sound and feel of his gilded cage lowering to the center of the courtroom.

---

“It has been decided!” The head Observant begins, its voice booming as the other eyeballs grow silent. 

Danny swallows nervously as it begins to approach his cage with a key. “What’s been decided?” 

“Your fate, Liminal child.”

Danny feels palpable dread as the door to his prison is opened and he is grabbed by the wrist to walk to a dias in the middle of the room. “Wait- don’t I get to make a case for myself? A trial?“

“Liminals are abominations by definition–” the lead Observant answers. “You shan’t be afforded the same rights as other ghosts, as your existence itself is a crime against nature. Be glad we are not exterminating you outright.”

Danny wants to retort but the collar it clasps around his throat stings in a way he hasn’t felt since he last passed through a ghost shield in his human form. He hadn’t seen it being carried by another Observant, had no time to respond before he began to feel it working magic into his body painfully.

“Us Observants shan’t ever step foot on the material plane– the ‘ real world ’ as some more… modern ghosts refer. So what a boon it is to be handed a tool of mediation on a silver platter such as yourself, young Phantom.” The lead Observant looms over him, a smug look in its eye as it brings Danny to a kneeling position from where he’d ended up curled on the floor.

“Firstly, you are to obey our every order to the fullest of your ability. No working around the rules like that rebellious Clockwork.”

Danny feels the words wrap around his Core like a vice, choking out a gasp as it begins to hurt. 

“Wait wha-”

“Second, you must act with dignity and class when on duty– no immature gestures or words, no improper use of power or authority.”

“Stop–” Danny whines as the next command morphs into a chain around his Core, more painful than the last.

“Third, you are not to leave our sides unless ordered. We cannot have you wandering about between realms with power as dangerous as yours.”

Danny wracks out a sob as he realizes he may never see his loved ones again.

“Fourth, you are not to use your ghost form unless directly ordered by the council– you have poor control of it and it is a liability when you have displayed proper use of your Liminality in a human shape.”

Danny feels a part of him close off behind a barrier he feels snap into place. He screams out in pain and feels his limbs begin twitching. Ice forms along the ground at his feet and crawls up the prisoner’s robes he’d been dressed in. 

“Please, don’t do this– I can… I can be good, I promise!”

“And fifth– from this day forth you belong to the Council of Eyes, body and spirit.”

Danny hears the last command and feels an immaterial tether, like a leash, form between the cursed collar around his neck, and the gnarled talon of the head Observant. 

He tries to protest, but feels consciousness slipping before the world goes dark.

---

“By the power of the Council of Eyes, you are under arrest–” Danny feels his mouth move without his input. “Come quietly or forfeit your right to fair trial.”

The ghosts he’s cornered stare at him incredulously before laughing.

“What sorta game are you working at, twerp? Go back to yer parents n’ play dress up with your little friends instead of meddling in business that ain’t yours before we make ya a ghost like us.”

“Yeah, twerp– ain’t no business the living got meddlin’ with the dead!”

Danny wants to roll his eyes so bad, but the compulsions don’t allow for any sort of ‘immaturity’ while he is on duty. Jackasses. 

The duo of gangster ghosts are currently meddling with a major historical event, trying to prevent a shooting by taking the weapons from the stash hours before the timeline crucial event.

Danny himself thinks it’s fine to prevent this event– what with it being a murder and all. But the eyeballs were insistent that the best timeline requires this JFK guy being assassinated. Isn’t death supposed to be bad? Isn’t this guy a president? Why are these ghosts using unstable time portals to prevent it?

Danny tugs idly at the oversized Observer robes that dwarf his slight form. He’s certain he can’t cut an intimidating figure for any ghost, especially since he’s been forbidden from going ghost in the human realm as to not rouse suspicion.

“Come quietly or forfeit your fair trial– this is your final warning.” The words spill out of his mouth again instead of any witty banter he wishes he could actually say– the orders these eye jerks give him make everything nerve wracking and boring at the same time. 

“Oh yeah? And what do you plan on doing to us, punk–”

“Not like he can do anythin’ with them scrawny arms!”

The duo of ghosts laugh loudly at him and Danny’s eyes begin leaking tears. He was told to End these particular ghosts if they refused to come quietly, despite every ounce of protest he put up on the contrary.

“Please, I don’t want to hurt you two– just come with me and you won’t be Ended–”

One of the two slams an oversized hand into Danny’s temple and sends him reeling into the wall of the room, rattling a stack of books and making dust motes fly in the air. Being hit always hurts worse when in human form– 

Danny raises his hand, summoning a scythe made of gears and crystal. The tears in his eyes begin to turn to frost and crust over his black eyelashes as he summons his ghostly aura. The duo of ghosts look at him with fear, then renewed excitement as they realize they no longer have to hold back against a fully mortal kid. 

Danny sighs and enters a proper battle stance (not the improper ones he’d been using for a year) 

“By the power of the Council of Eyes, you are being detained. Do not resist or suffer immortal injury.”

---

“Here’s your time fugitives, Sir.” Danny treats the title like a slur as he slams the prism housing the troublemakers’ cores on the head Observant’s desk.

His boss master appraises his injuries as it vanishes the prism with a wave of its talons. Danny is bruising like a peach already. His back is sore from being slammed into a stack of something hard and angular. His hair is singed from ecto blasts he couldn’t properly dodge with limited mobility. 

His boss master seems to smile with its eye and gives Danny a condescending pat on the head, causing him to hiss when its thumb brushes against the cut on his cheek. Damn Observants trying to punish him for existing every step of the way.

“Oh Phantom, you’ve impressed me– much more cut and dry than your last mission. Maybe you’ll earn a visit from your old guardian if you keep up the work–”

Danny physically perks up at the mere tease of being offered seeing Clockwork again– he has no idea how much time has passed, but seeing someone who treats him, sees him as a person and not a thing, is something he desperately needs before he breaks again.

“Do not get overly excited– you are old enough to temper your enthusiasm, Phantom. Lest we rescind our offer prematurely.” The head Observant chuckles as if it’s a funny joke.

Danny sheepishly bows into himself. “Sorry, sir. I’ll temper myself better…”

The Observant looks at Danny as if to ask him to continue.

“I’d really get to see them if I do a better job?”

The Obersvant pauses, its expression falling into one of tired disappointment. “I do not know if you are ready to see them if you feel the need to ask a pointless question, Phantom. Do not push me like you so enjoy to.”

Danny silences himself and tries to stop the look of disappointment from overtaking his features. His attempt earns another fond chuckle from the Observant. It simply pets Danny on the head once again and coos. 

“Oh, Phantom. I was merely… joking. I simply did not know Liminals could be so… interesting. Not until you came along. Good job, Phantom. You are dismissed.”

Danny takes a quick bow before rushing off to his quarters. His heart races as he rubs tears from his eyes and tries to stifle the sniffles. 

His heart is a traitor.

Danny curls up in his bed, and if he cries himself to sleep that night, there’s nobody around to hear it.

Who would like being praised by their slaver?

A freak like him, that’s who.

[14dayswithyou]

That is all thank you

ANSWERED: Art credit for da first Ren meme goes to @meo-eiru!!

BUT HELPPPPP THESE ARE SO FUNNY JDSGJH T_T The Moth meme + Uno meme had me CACKLING lmaoooooooo

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

One day

One day I hope people realize that Kitsunami already "broke through his programming" back by issue #56 of Idw Sonic

He had an entire mini arc where he dealt with being without Surge for the first time, and in the real world. He met Sonic and his friends directly, tried to work out what his purpose would be without Surge in his life (gave it a shot trying to devote himself to Sonic, seeing him as the next best thing after Surge). And when it was all said and done, he decided after experiencing more that at Surge's side is where he wanted to be.

As of the recent IDW issues, Kit isn't sticking with Surge "because of programming" and "because he just needs for other characters to friend him and turn him into a better person". He is at her side because he wants to be. He protects her and aids her because he cares about her, not just because he's serving the strongest guy in the room. And he's not interacting with others because he's decided not to give a shit about anyone else other than Surge (because from his pov, even the "good guys" are fake. From his pov, everyone is someone trying to lie and manipulate their way into pulling him and Surge to their side)

Kit already has decided what he wants to do with his life. And he decided it on his own. Not because of anyone else's wants or wishes. That's the whole point of his speech at the end of #56.

He's burying whatever his and Surge's past is and moving forward with his conviction to be with Surge because it's what he wants.

[areislol]

twitter links w/ hsr men

pairings. blade, jing yuan, aventurine, sunday, gepard, sampo x afab/fem! reader

warnings. NSFW no minors! please read at your own discretion, explicit/18+ smut, established relationships for most, brat taming for blade, mention of being called a whore (teasing manner) for aventurine, mentions of puppy for gepard but there's no meaning about it. aggressive sex, passionate sex, masturbation (fem.) sub! gepard for 1 twt link, fingering

a/n. i don't think i've done one for hsr yet... or genshin so maybe that'll be in the future. sorry (not sorry) guys i'm ovulating (i need them all carnally). also i think for some you need to be logged in twitter for them to work! this only has a couple of characters cause i'm a bit lazy today

blade

✧ fucking you so good from behind, "you like that don't you?"

✧ eating you out in a room just beside his colleuges room, he likes the risk and it turns on him. you feel the same way, right?

✧ teasing you for being such a brat, spanking your tight pussy and rubbing soft languid on your sensitive clit. you'll learn your lesson sooner or later.

✧ the size difference never fails to amaze him. but that's fine, he'll take his time with you.

✧ making you cum just by his slender fingers

jing yuan

✧ riding your boyfriend jing yuan

✧ fucking you in his bathroom while you're wearing his shirt. how adorable of you ♡

✧ best friend! jing yuan who fucks you right and how you deserved to be fucked. "feels good doesn't it? i know baby but you need to keep your voice down.. your mom is here.." it's quite hard to stay quiet while being pounded relentlessly, isn't it?

✧ a 5 star meal in his opinion, nothing beats your pussy.

aventurine

✧ slowly and painstakingly teasing you with his cock, oh, and you're wearing that new blindfold he bought for you!

✧ bouncing up and down on his dick, "like the whore you are"

✧ morning sex (is this based off the artwork recently posted by hoyo? yes)

✧ fingering you from behind

✧ "fuck..." aventurine loves hearing you moan

sunday

✧ "ride my face, please."

✧ passionate sex with sunday

✧ giving your boyfriend an awaited tit job ♡

✧ restricting your movement by binding you. "stop moving or i won't put it in." he says while also rubbing his hardness on your entrance.

✧ fucking you 'till you're braindead

gepard

✧ your puppy boyfriend who loves eating you out. best meal ever.

✧ breeding you just like you asked, one peak down at the messy sight gets him 10x more hard. good luck with a horny gepard

✧ milking your beloved with a vibrator

✧ teasing your poor husband with a video of your wet pussy while he's at work.

sampo

✧ your boyfriend still continuing to finger you through your orgasm. overstimulated would be an understatement.

✧ making out in your room

✧ fucking you aggressively after seeing his rival, gepard, flirt with you (?? gepard flirting??)

✧ your pleasure is his pleasure//masturbating while eating you out

a/n: me after not writing anything for a couple of weeks (i think almost a month?) :) i haven't done this in SO long. no continue reading for this since it's short. (this is a shitpost)

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

[enthusiasticharry]

the one where YN gets a job as a bartender in a motorbike club's bar, and Harry runs the club.

author's note: suprise!! i'm back again!! i promised i wouldn't keep you waiting and i'm not. this is the first part in my biker!harry mini-series which i started a while ago and only just got around to finishing! let me know what you think and what you'd like to see in the next instalments!

word count: 11.6k of sexy biker!harry (that's it, that's all).

WARNINGS: strong language, smut, bike riding, a bar fight and talks of a motor accident.

let me know what you think of clover here!! mwah <3

1979

“Look, sweets, I’d hire you on the spot if I thought it would be a good idea,” Mick spoke from across the bar, towel over one shoulder and another in his hand drying a glass, “But it just isn’t, I’m sorry.”

YN sighed, dropping her hands down on the bar. This was the fourth one she’d tried, and so far, she hadn’t had any luck. She wasn’t asking for much – just a job to help pay for her student loans. She had graduated a year ago and bounced from job to job, and yet none of them seemed to fit. It wasn’t necessarily her dream to work in a bar, but she hadn’t a single clue about what her dream was. She had a first-class honours history degree (which she adored getting) and yet not a single idea of what to do with it.

She couldn’t think of the future at this moment, she needed to think about the now and if she wanted to continue to live in her small apartment and eat — she needed a job.

Clovers had been her last hope. It was the last bar in town that YN was yet to try, and despite its less-than-positive reputation – it was always busy, and that meant money coming in. As she turned to look around the bar, which was already quite crowded for it being early on a Friday night, she couldn’t help but imagine the cash that was funnelling through the establishment, and how she wished she could get at least some of it.

“Can I get you a drink, sweets?” Mick spoke again, offering her a soft smile, “It’ll hopefully soften the blow a little bit.”

YN smiled at the man and nodded, “Thank you. Whisky, please.”

Mick got straight to work, placing the glass in front of her, dropping an ice cube into the glass and pouring her a more than generous shot. Just as she fumbled with her purse to pull out some bills to pass to Mick, he shook his head and held his hand out to stop it. She smiled in thanks and watched as he turned and walked away, going to serve the next customer who was standing a few feet away from her.

YN picked up her drink, and just as she was about to take a drink the door beside her opened. Her lips parted, her eyes watching as a group of what seemed to be fifteen or so men, all clad in heavy leather or dark denim walked into the bar.

Of course, YN knew about them. Anyone who lived here knew who they were, but it was the first time that she had seen them this up close. The most she had ever experienced with them was the low rumbling of their engines from a distance, or possibly them riding past her but that was only ever one or two. It was their jackets that often set them apart from the rest of the riders in the town, the very specific Clover’s Riders jacket that every member adorned and what seemed like all times.

The men were loud as they stepped in, most of them heading towards the bar whilst others went to some of the other members who were already seated in the bar. YN’s eyes never left the door until the last one had made his entrance, and she just couldn’t seem to draw them away.

He was younger than many of his counterparts, probably resting at an age near YN’s or possibly a few years or so older. He was clad in the same heavy denim that many of the others wore, but they seemed to sit on his body much easier. The curls of his hair were tousled in every direction it seemed, but YN found herself wondering as to what it would feel like to run her fingers through it.

With a shake of her head, she turned back to her glass and lifted it to her lips. She took a large gulp of the liquid, allowing that to slip down her throat before she finished the rest of it. Mick was long gone from being anywhere near her, working at what seemed like double speed to keep up with the orders that the gang of men were giving him, and she felt as though that was probably her cue to leave. She would have to brainstorm other options for work, seeing as though this just hadn’t called through.

Sighing, YN pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushed up from the stool she was resting on. Just as she turned around to make a beeline for the door through the bodies that were crowding the room, she was stopped by a body in front of hers.

“Woah, woah, little darling where do you think you’re going?” It was one of the riders, standing in front of her with a grin on his features.

“Home,” she said with a shrug.

“So soon,” The man looked over his shoulder to some of his friends who were standing close by, “Me and my buddies here didn’t even get to say hello.”

“Right, okay, hello,” YN nodded to the man in front of her and those behind him, “Really have to get going.”

The man extended his arms so that she couldn’t carry move from her space in front of him, “Let us buy you a drink little darling, I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’ve already had one, thank you, and it was very enjoyable,” YN offered them another small smile, “Now please move out of my way so that I can go home.”

“Hey, none of that,” The man shook his head, “Stay with us, I promise we’ll make it worth it.”

YN hummed, tilting her head from side to side lightly, “I’ll pass but I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone else to make the night worth it.”

And with that, YN pushed past the man and beelined for the door. She half expected him to grab her, but from the hoots and hollers of his friends, he was too embarrassed to do anything else.

The bar that YN had worked out whilst she was completing her degree had taught her a thing or two about how to deal with rowdy men, and whilst the firm but clear approach worked in most cases, YN wasn’t afraid to resort to other means if necessary. It was all a respect thing, and more often than not if you deal back to them what they deal to you – the situation usually sorts itself.

YN had just rested her palm against the wood of the door when she heard someone call her name. She saw Mick standing there, leaning over the bar to catch her attention.

“Saw you deal with those guys,” He nodded his head over to the men whose attention had been taken by another woman in the bar, who seemed to accept their advances more than YN did, “When can you start?”

YN’s face broke out into a smile and took a delighted step towards Mick, “Whenever.”

“Right now?” He raised his eyebrows at her, motioning to the men who were calling his name for more drinks, “Have a feeling we’re going to be swamped tonight.”

YN nodded and immediately dropped her purse down behind the bar and rolled the sleeves of her cardigan up.

She turned to the men who were now staring at her with their mouths slightly agape, “What can I get you?”

It was a Thursday night and YN had been working at Clover’s for around a week at this point when Mick decided that she could handle a night on her own. After being thrown into what very much was the deep end on her first shift, there had been time the next day for Mick to show her the ropes properly and anything she would specifically need to know.

Mick said that he normally wouldn’t leave such a new person on their own so quickly, but he had an important family issue that he couldn’t get out of and that she had shown enough trust that he wasn’t worried. It was a Thursday, so it wasn’t going to be too busy but even so, those who were going to be there would be Riders, and they would protect their bar from anything.

It was nearing nine, and YN would probably say that they were at a quarter of their capacity, the majority of them being riders who had been there for the last few hours or so. YN was lucky she supposed. They never ordered anything more complicated than a beer, at most a whisky or a bourbon and this was their bar so there were never any arguments about paying for the drinks.

There was a lull in the orders, so YN decided to take it upon herself to dry some of the glasses she had washed in the previous lull. This job was not for the weak she would say that, but YN would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it. She loved people watching and mixed with the hum of the jukebox it was the perfect combination for her.

The door to the bar opened again about twenty minutes, and in walked that same man that caught her attention a week or so ago, on that first day she was here. He looked the same, apart from he was clad in a mixture of denim and leather this time instead of just denim, and a large bruise was sprouting from under his left eye. To YN, it was obvious that the cause was a punch, for there was nothing else that could cause a bruise such as that one. He walked into the room, ignored the hoots and hollers from some of the other men and took a seat right in the middle of the bar.

YN threw the towel she was holding over her shoulder and walked towards him, resting her hands on the edge of the bar, “What can I get ya?”

The man didn’t stray his eyes away from where they were planted firmly on the wood of the bar, “Beer, and a whisky.”

YN nodded, reaching over to pop the lid of the beer, “Do you want ice in the whisky?”

The man just hummed, so YN got straight to work making his drink for him. It was different to that of the other men in the bar — watching him. Whilst they were loud and rowdy and always had something to say to someone – he was silent. He just sat, with the company of his only himself and drank his drink.

Snapping YN out of her gaze (which had been on the man for a few beats too long) was a call of her name from just down the bar. She walked over to where it came from, a man called Taylor who YN had become quite acquainted with in the last few days or so.

Most of the men (not all, obviously) that she had become acquainted with during the last few weeks were lovely. They loved to have a quick natter with her whilst she made their drinks, some of them flirted with her but she didn’t care (it was part of the job) and nobody bothered her. If one or two of the men when they were drunk got a little handsy or started to say things which would be deemed inappropriate, the other lads would circle her and make sure she was okay. She felt safe, which she was quite surprised was the case.

“A piece of advice,” Taylor spoke over the bar as YN started opening the bottles of beer for him and his friends, “Harry over there always orders the same thing, and he’ll drink the whiskey last before he leaves.”

“Thank you,” YN nods with a small smile across her lips, unable to stop her eyes beating over to him for a second – Harry.

“He’s a quiet one,” Taylor continues speaking, grabbing a few bills out of his pocket to pay for the drinks, “But harmless, I promise. To be fair, you’d think the man who founded the club would have more to say.”

YN’s eyes widen, she had no idea that Harry was the one who founded the club. She hadn’t suspected it at all.

“He founded it?” She asked with a slight raise of her eyebrow. She wasn’t trying to pry, but there were things that she wanted to know, and Taylor already had that buzz that made her know that he would be willing to answer any questions she had.

“Yeah, it was him and a few others,” Taylor shrugged, attempting to pick up the three bottles of beer all in one go, “A few years ago now, and it only grew from there.”

YN nodded once more and watched as he walked back to his table. She put the bills that he had given her for the drinks into the register and put the tip she had been given into her apron.

There was something about that man that had caught her attention from that first day, and yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. Now, it made sense. The aura that he had when he walked into the room, as well as the way he sat and held himself – he had a strong presence in the group without even trying.

YN had more questions, but she knew it probably wasn’t the best to pry right now. Instead, she just got on with everything that she had to do. She served drinks and cleaned up after herself right up until close. YN hadn’t realised when Harry had left, but he had slipped out without a single person realising.

She hummed as she swept the floors, tried her hardest to count the cash right the first time and put it in the safe before continuing with her other closing jobs. The chairs were off the floor, as much of the stickiness in the room that YN could remove was gone and the doors were locked and checked.  

Once she had stepped outside, and locked the door to the bar behind her, the late hour catching up with her very quickly – she realised at that point she wasn’t alone.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that he was standing there, resting against his motorcycle with a cigarette dangling from between his lips. YN was confused but continued to lock the door and make sure that nobody could get inside. Then she turned, and that was when she saw Harry looking directly at her.

“Can I help you?” She muttered, fidgeting with the keys she was holding in her hand.

He inhaled the smoke from his cigarette, holding it for a second or so before he exhaled, “Heard you were asking questions.”

YN’s heart drops slightly, heat pulsating around her body, “Am I not allowed to ask questions?”

He ran his teeth over his bottom lip, placing the cigarette back in his mouth, “Can’t stop you from doing that, but any questions you have about me, you can ask me yourself.”

YN just pursed her lips and nodded, “Okay then… do you always stalk women when they’re leaving work?”

Harry didn’t seem shocked by her words, or react in any way to them at all, which was surprising to her. But, then again, she hadn’t seen much of a reaction out of this man this entire time she had known of him.

“Only the ones that have worked in my bar for a week.”

“Your bar?” YN widened her eyes, “Thought Mick owned it?”

Harry shook his head, “I do. Mick’s my employee, and so are you.”

“Do you not trust me or something? Think I’m walking away with pocketfuls of cash?”

“I would already know if you’d done that, and you wouldn’t be working here anymore,” YN just nodded, “But this side of a town can be sketchy at night, and you never know who could be lurking.”

YN just scoffed, turning to walk away from the man, “Thank you, but I can look after myself.”

“Suit yourself,” Harry shrugged, climbing onto his bike, and kicking the stand-up. YN could hear the engine turning on, the loud rumble filling the empty street.

YN continued walking, expecting him to speed past her but he didn’t. The low rumble continued down the street, even when she turned – the sound turned too. It was frustrating and annoying. All YN wanted to do was to get home, have something to eat and get in bed. Instead, she was having to deal with what was becoming an annoying rider, who couldn’t seem to leave her alone.

This continued for around ten minutes, and with each second that passed YN was getting more and more annoyed. Just as she turned onto the edge of her street, the apartment she shared with her roommate Ashley coming into view in the distance, she decided that enough was enough.

She stopped and turned around on the pavement, Harry pulling in on his bike to stop just in front of her. YN sighed and placed her hand on her hips.

“Do we have a problem?”

Harry rested his hands on his bike still, but was facing her, “No problem.”

“Then why are you following me home?” A small chuckle escaped her lips, “You know those strange people you were talking about earlier; you do know you’re acting like one of them?”

“You’re one of us now,” He shrugs, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world – it certainly wasn’t for YN at all.

“That means you follow me home?” The confusion grows with every moment in YN, and yet Harry doesn’t seem the slightest bit worried.

“You didn’t want a ride,” He pulls his carton of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one up, “Had to make sure you got home safe.”

“Right,” YN just nods, “Well, I think I can manage on my own from here. And, if I’m all of a sudden one of you should I expect my jacket in the post? Or do you do collection?”

With a final scoff, she turned and walked away from the man. This time, when the engine started, YN didn’t turn to look at Harry and instead carried on to her front door. It was only then that she turned to peer over her shoulder, just in time to see Harry speed past her and into the night.

She had an incline that this job was going to be interesting, but she had no idea just how much.

It wasn’t necessarily a normal working pattern that YN had found herself in.

Sleeping for most of the day and being awake all night wasn’t necessarily the big girl working pattern that she had aspired to when she was younger, but for the time being she was enjoying it. It did mean that when Ashley returned from her nine-to-five working as a receptionist (YN couldn’t think of anything worse to be honest), YN was just getting ready to start her day.

YN was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a half-eaten sandwich clutched tightly in her hand. She wasn’t too hungry, but she knew that if she didn’t eat something before, she left for work she would regret it later on. The second that Ashley stepped through the door and threw her bag down on the floor, she threw YN a quizzical look.

“What?” YN asked, wiping the mayo that rested on the curve of her lip off with her thumb.

“Do you happen to know anything about the smoking-hot rider staring at the apartment from across the street?”

YN’s entire face dropped, “What?”

Ashley walked over and dropped down on the other side of the sofa, reaching out to steal one of YN’s chips from her plate. Ashley seemed slightly unfazed by the newfound stalker YN had acquired, and that stressed the girl out significantly.

“What do you mean?” YN pushed herself up, making her way over to the window where there he was. Resting against his bike, cigarette resting from his lips sat Harry, staring at the front door to the building with an unreadable expression on his face,

“He’s been there since this morning,” Ashley adds to the conversation causally, running a hand through her hair which she had just pulled out of its undo, “At first, I thought he was waiting for Sandy, you know, from 2.B but then I saw the jacket and realised he must be here for you.”

“He’s not here for me,” YN shook her head, slapping the curtains shut and walking back over to her friend, “He’s stalking me, I can’t believe you’re not more stressed about this.”

Ashley just shrugged, “Worse people to be stalked by, I suppose. He’s one of Clover’s, he’ll be harmless.”

“No, Ashley, he’s not just one of Clover’s,” YN sighed, running a hand over her face before scooting around the apartment to grab her belongings, “He is Clover.”

It was Ashley’s face that dropped this time, “What do you mean?”

“That’s Harry,” YN pulled each one of her pumps on her feet, “He founded the gang!”

“You’re kidding,” Ashley all but screams, “Jesus YN, I knew I was concerned about this job, but I think you’ve done pretty alright for yourself.”

YN just shook her head. She grabbed her jacket, and her bag and made her way over to the door.

“If I go missing, you know who’s responsible,” With that, YN turned away from her friend and rushed out of the door.

She took the stairs down from her apartment at double speed, almost tripping over her feet multiple times. She pulled her jacket on just as she got to the front door. Just before she was going to push it open, just stopped and hesitated for a second. One deep breath in and out was all it took to compose herself, and then she pushed the door open.

Harry spotted her immediately, throwing the cigarette he had in his hand a few metres away from his bike, where a collection was beginning to grow. YN made sure to check the left and the right of her before crossing the road, not quite fancying becoming roadkill this early in the day.

“You’re lucky my neighbours didn’t call the cops on you,” Is the first thing that slips from YN’s lips, before she realises how stupid that sounds.

For the first time since she met him, a small smile crosses Harry’s lips. She had amused him, and oh did she want to do it again.

“You know you can’t stay out here all day,” She follows with, “I’m going to the bar now anyway.”

“I got something for you,” Harry pushed himself up off the bike and that’s when she saw it.

A denim jacket, smaller than the others that she had seen but still carrying the ever-so-known Clover’s Riders logo on the back. That four-leaf clover was known all over town, and towns for miles in every direction and now it seemed YN had one of her own. It would open paths for her but also close them as well. She knew that the second she accepted that jacket, things would change all over again.

“I don’t even ride, Harry,” She sighed, shaking her head slightly, “I’ve never been on a bike in my life.”

He just shrugged once more, “There’s always time to change that.”

YN toyed up her options, and it took a lot less time than she had thought it would to swipe the jacket from his hands. She shrugged off the one she was wearing and slipped her arms inside the material. It was the perfect fit, exactly what she would have chosen for herself. Harry beamed another smile at her and swung his leg over his bike once more.

“C’mon,” He tilted his head at her, “I have something I want to show you.”

“I’ll be late for work,” YN shook her head, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from throwing her leg over the side of the bike and using Harry’s shoulder to help steady herself as she got on.

“You’ll be fine,” Harry spoke, and that’s when YN realised that whilst yes, she was probably going to be late for work, she was also on the back of the owner’s bike – so the trouble couldn’t be too grave, “Hold on tight.”

YN did as the man said, wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist. The second that the engine started, and Harry kicked the stand-up they went flying down the road, and she realised in that exact moment why he said tight. YN’s body lurched forward into Harry’s, her cheek resting against the leather of his jacket, and her hands tightening around him.

Once the initial fear had worn off, and YN finally peered over the man’s shoulder – she would be lying if she said that it didn’t feel in a word freeing. The wind through her hair, the chill of the speed at which she was going laced with the feeling of Harry pressed so closely against her. Sure, she had been scared but now she knew that there wasn’t anything to be scared of. It wasn’t a scary thing, instead, it was something to be enjoyed.

YN’s lips curled upwards, a slight giggle leaving them as she noticed they went speeding through a red light. Many, and by many YN meant most, of the riders had a back pocket full of speeding tickets, and lights that they’ve jumped and yet none of them seemed to care. It was as though all of the law-abiding parts of their brains didn’t function when they were on bikes. On second thought, even when they weren’t on the bikes the law-abiding parts of their brain didn’t function.

Harry pulled over just as they joined the road which took them out of the city. They had completely passed Clover’s, and YN hadn’t the faintest clue of how late she was for work at this point, but it didn’t matter. It would take a lot for this smile to leave her face today. Once the bike came to a stop, YN used Harry’s shoulder to push up off of it.

Harry sits on the bike, but his eyes never leave the girl. The way she almost looked like a baby deer as she got her grounding once she was off the bike, the way her hair stuck out in every and all directions, and most importantly the beaming smile that never left her face. For the first time in a long time, there were no thoughts in YN’s head. There were no worries about growing up and getting a proper job, or stress about money – it was completely and utterly freeing. She supposed that was why there were so many of the riders and she supposed they were all chasing that feeling.

“You’ve got to teach me how to ride,” She sighed, the blissful smile never leaving her lips.

Harry just nodded, “Whenever you want.”

“Really?” Her face widened in excitement.

Harry shrugged, “You’ve gotta know how to ride if you’re going to be a rider.”

YN just nodded, and almost jumped back onto the bike. Harry didn’t say anything when she wrapped her arms back around his waist, not a single gap between their bodies but it just felt so comfortable. Harry kicked the stand down once more and sprang straight into action, turning slowly around on the road before speeding up the second they were on the straight back to the town.

All YN knew was that she was going to savour the feeling of the wind in her hair.

It was another Saturday night, and it was packed in the bar.

YN was so thankful that she could stay behind the safety of the actual bar and not venture out into the rest of the room. The men had just come back from a ride, and they were all excited and loud and wanting nothing but drink upon drink upon drink. She had been there from earlier on in the day today, and when Mick showed up later in the evening, she hadn’t managed to utter a single word but hello to him since.

All she could think of was the fact that once the rush had died down, it would be her time to go home and rest. In what felt like a very long few months of working every day (at first YN hadn’t minded, but she was slowly getting more and more burnt out) it was finally time for her to have a day off. Mick had graciously said to her the other day that he could handle Sunday on his own, and those words felt like gold slipping from his lips. She didn’t have a single clue of what she was going to do with her day, all she knew was that it was going to be relaxing.

She just had to get through this night first.

At first, the night seemed fine. Everyone was in good spirits and there was nothing more than a few drunken disagreements that sorted themselves out. YN had taken that as the opportunity to make her way over to where Harry was sitting and replenish his beer while he was there. It was then that the door was thrown open, and the entire atmosphere in the room changed.

What had at first been a lovely evening had changed within the second, and it was all because of a man that she hadn’t recognised. He didn’t have a rider’s jacket on his back, and that should have been YN’s first clue that this man was going to be in trouble. This was a riders’ bar, and those jackets were almost like a rite of passage. Without one, people stuck out like a sore thumb.

It became even more obvious to YN when the man beelined straight over to where Harry was sitting. He didn’t sit and instead leant over Harry, so his focus was on him. YN stayed close, but she didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was listening. She wasn’t the only one either – she could see other riders peering over at them from where they were sitting.

“You said if I did it, I’d get my jacket,” Those were the first words that came out of the man’s mouth – not even a greeting of hello, “I did it. Where’s the fucking jacket?”

Harry didn’t say anything for a second or so. Instead, he lifted his recently replenished beer to his lips and took a swag. He was doing as he always did – taking his sweet darn time.

“I said I’d think about it,” Harry mumbles, shrugging slightly as he did, “I’ve thought about it… and no.”

The man smacks his hand down onto the bar top, the sound echoing throughout the room. It silenced everyone, and all eyes turned to the two men. YN’s eyes looked towards Mick with a panicked expression on them but he shook his head, hoping that would calm the girls down.

“That wasn’t the fucking deal,” The man spits, coming right up into Harry’s face but it didn’t seem to deter the man at all, “The deal was to drop the shipment, I get the fucking jacket.”

Harry finally turned to look at the man, his stern expression never wavering, “Do you think I want someone like you, someone that doesn’t listen wearing one of my jackets?”

The man didn’t like that response, and it seemed as though as quickly as YN could blink her eyes the man was grasping the lapels of Harry’s jacket and pulling him up from the stool. He was then pushed straight into the bar, a slight grunt leaving his lips as he did. There was the initial sound of beer stools scratching on the floor, and other Riders were reading to split the two men up but all it took was Harry lifting one of his hands and they all stopped in their places.

“I don’t want someone who’s that willing to fight one of his men wearing a jacket.”

That was all it took for the other man to make the first punch. His arm pulled backwards, and his fist hit Harry straight across the jaw. The skin immediately went red, but Harry didn’t look like a man who had just been hit straight across the jaw. The bar stayed silent, obviously waiting for whatever Harry’s retaliation was going to be.

What YN, and certainly a lot of others in the bar hadn’t expected was Harry to reach behind him, to where his empty beer bottle was sat and hit the man over the head with it. The man fell to the ground, his grip on Harry letting go instantly. Harry lifted his hand, wincing when he noticed that a shard of glass from the broken bottle had lodged itself in his skin.

He just sighed, rubbing his forehead with his uninjured hand, “Get him out of here.”

Three of the men who were watching closely immediately listened to him, walking over, and picking the man up. They carried him out of the bar and were back to their drinks in what seemed like minutes. It was as though nobody truly seemed to care as to what had just happened and were more excited to get back to their drinks truly as though nothing had happened.

YN watched as Harry threw back the glass of whisky that had sat on the bar waiting for him (courtesy of Mick). That seemed like something that YN would have to take note of. With that, he dropped a few bills on the counter and stormed out of the bar. YN watched this and immediately started to pull her apron off her body.

“Mick,” The older man hummed from the other side of the bar, “I’m going outside for a break. I’ll only be a minute.”

The older man just threw YN a look, obviously having spotted who had left the bar just before she wanted to, “Be careful.”

YN just laughed, throwing the latch open, “I’m always careful.”

The second she stepped outside; she was shocked to see that Harry’s bike was still there, but he wasn’t sitting on it. There was a slight chill in the night air, and YN looked from left to right to try and spot him, but he was still nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until YN made her way towards the alley that followed the side of the bar that she finally realised where he had gone.

It was dark, but not dark enough to miss the figure leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips. YN wrapped her arms around herself, wanting to conceal at least some of the warmth from inside. As her shoes crunched on the path, Harry’s eyes turned to look at her. He was ready for it to be someone else, and it was almost as though when he noticed that it was her – his features seemed to relax.

“How’s your hand?” She asked, coming to a stop right in front of him.

He raised his palm towards her, “It’s been better.”

YN winced to herself slightly as she looked at his hand, seeing the shard of glass still sticking out of the skin. Whilst she didn’t have a first aid kit on her body at this exact moment, it was good that she knew where one was.

“Come with me,” She nodded, walking further down the alley to the bar’s back entrance.

YN didn’t even turn to make sure that he was following her, she just knew that he would be. She held the door open for him, and the one that opened to the office of the bar (where Mick spent most of his time during the day, sorting the books out) and pointed at the chair by the desk.

Whilst Harry sat down without a word to her, YN reached up to the shelf above them and brought the first aid kit down. Harry’s eyes watched her as she pulled tweezer, gauze, and some antiseptic to clean and dress his wound. It was all very silent, and still but caring.

“Can I?” She asked, checking sure it was okay to touch his hand.

Harry nodded, placing his hand in hers. To YN, she wasn’t sure if she was truly touch-starved that feeling of his hand in hers felt truly intimate. She got to work straight away, pulling the glass out with the tweezers ever so carefully before wiping the surface of the cut. Even though YN knew that it would have stung, Harry’s face didn’t show anything, only one raised an eyebrow slightly.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” She mumbles, face still full of concentration on making sure the wound is fully clean before she wraps it.

Harry just nodded, “You see wounds like these before?”

YN nodded, “I’ve worked in bars before – of course, I’ve seen wounds like these before.”

Harry just nods, allowing YN to move his hand at her ease to ensure that it is wrapped tightly and securely. He opened his mouth once she had finished, as though he was going to ask her something, but he closed it straight away. She wanted nothing more than to tell him that he could ask her anything that he wanted to, but she didn’t want to scare him away.

“You’re all set,” She offered him a small smile.

“Thank you,” The words sort of felt foreign, but very sincere coming from his lips, “I… you didn’t have to.”

YN just shrugged, “Wasn’t going to let you bleed out – would’ve been bad for business.”

Harry offered her a small smile at her attempt at a joke, “I’m sorry about what happened in there as well… usually we try to keep those sorts of things out of the bar.”

“Harry,” His name came out of her lips softly, hoping that would be the thing to tell him that it was okay. That she wasn’t angry at him, “I know… it doesn’t bother me – I promise.”

He just nods, “I knew that, you know.”

YN furrows her eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“That first day,” He reached out to her, and did the last thing that she would ever expect – grabbed her hand, “The way you dealt with some of the lads… I knew you were different.”

“It was you…” The words slipped out of YN’s mouth before she could truly register them, “You saw me that day.”

It all made sense. YN had noticed Harry that very first day that she’d appeared at Clover, and whilst originally Mick had said no, he had changed his mind and said yes. To YN, it had looked and seemed that Mick was the one who had made that decision, and yet it made sense that it was Harry to be the one who changed Mick’s mind. Harry, if he had been sitting at his barstool would have been a metre or so away from that conversation – and he would have heard every word that had been said.

“I did,” Harry nods, claiming every thought that YN had to be true, “I saw you, the way you spoke to them, the way you stood your ground and god, YN, I was hooked.”

That was the first time that YN had heard Harry speak her name, and she was addicted. She wanted to hear it over, and over and over again. He noticed the slight shift in her and used his legs to roll the chair he was sitting on closer to where she was resting against the desk. Then he slipped his uninjured arm around her body and pulled her down to him. She straddled his knees, relishing the feeling of his body beneath hers.

“I…” Her words came out as a whisper, “I felt the same.”

Relief. That was the look on his face – it was a true relief.

“You did?”

“God, Harry,” YN giggles, shaking her head, “I tried not to, but I would be lying if I said that most of my thoughts haven’t been filled with you. Wanting to know more.”

“You can know anything,” His thumb slipped underneath the thin material of her shirt, a heat spreading across her entire body from that one single touch, “Ask me anything, everything – I’ll answer. Whatever you want to know?”

YN pondered that for a second. She could have asked him anything, and yet there was one thought which was present in her mind more than any of the others. An hour ago, this question would have been risky – she just wouldn’t have asked it. Yet, in the safety of this room – away from peering eyes, or anyone who could make assumptions as to what it meant – she wanted nothing more than to ask it.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Harry exhaled a breath, lifting his hand to rest against her cheek, “More than anything.”

YN nodded.

“Harry…” He hummed at the call of her name, “Kiss me.”

His thumb danced from her cheek, down to her lip. He ran it across the skin of her bottom lip, pushing down slightly so that her lips parted for him. The only sound in the room was YN’s heavy breathing, a response to the teasing that was on display right in front of her.

Then his face inched forward, and his lips were on hers. It didn’t take long for his tongue to slip past her parted lips, dancing with her own. This closeness to someone, the vulnerability – YN had missed it. She pushed her body forward towards Harry’s, slipping her hands in the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands, never mind the bandaged one which would have still caused him pain, rested upon her denim-clad arse. They found their home resting there, and YN wasn’t about to move them.

Harry pulled away from her lips, obviously needing oxygen as much as she did. But he wasted no time in dropping his attack down her neck, his teeth nipping the skin there. YN’s hands still rested in the curls at the nape of his neck, and heavy breaths parted from her lips.

“Harry,” She gasped as he started to suck at the sweet spot where her neck met her collarbone, “I need to get back to work.”

“No, you don’t,” He mumbled, and YN just rolled her eyes.

“I’ve deserted Mick,” She continues, “He might need help.”

“Mick’ll be fine,” He pulled his head up, resting on her chest as he peered up at her, “And anyway, I’m your boss.”

YN shook her head, “I need to go.”

Harry groaned but finally nodded, “Ride home with me?”

“Of course,” YN pecked Harry’s lips one last time pushed herself up from him and walked out of the room.

Harry’s eyes never left her the entire time.  

“Harry, no, I’m going to tip over.”

When Harry had dropped YN at home last night, he had muttered the words that he would see her tomorrow. Before she could clarify that she wasn’t working, he had sped off on his motorcycle into the dark of the night. YN should have known, though, that Harry knew she wasn’t working. It became even more clear when Ashley shouted at her from the kitchen at around midday today, telling her that her Rider was waiting for her.

Instead of the annoyance that YN felt the first time, there was a skip in her step this time. She had taken some time that morning to make herself look that little bit more presentable and waited for him. After their kiss the previous night in the office, and the slight peck that he had given her when she had climbed off his bike yesterday.

When she had bounced over to him earlier, a smile beaming on his face she didn’t have a single care as to what she would be doing that day – all she knew was that she was going to enjoy it. Even when she climbed on the back of his bike and asked where they were going – the smile never left her face. He refused to tell her, though, saying that it was a surprise.

“Harry, I don’t want to,” YN shook her head, hands grasping tightly onto the handles of the bike, “I’m going to fall off, or I’m going to crash your bike.”

What Harry had planned for the girl was to teach her how to ride. Whilst at the start YN had wanted nothing more than to learn how to ride, now that she was sitting on Harry’s bike without him there – she was terrified. Harry was standing close to her, cigarette dangling from his lips and an amused expression on his face.

“You’re not going to fall,” Harry shakes his head, “I’m right here… and I promise I won’t let you crash.”

“You can say that Harry, but you can’t promise,” YN was sitting on the bike, with her feet resting on the ground and absolutely no attempt at all to move.

He threw his cigarette on the floor, moving over so that he could wrap his arms around her waist, his hands coming to rest upon hers on the handle. He turned the engine on, and even though it was YN’s hands on the handle, Harry was controlling it. They went very slow – they had to so that Harry could walk at the side of them.

“I’m going to let go,” Harry spoke after a minute or so, but YN shook her head.

“I’m not ready,” YN pushed her body into his slightly, “I’m going to crash.”

“There’s nothing for you to crash into,” Harry peels one of his hands off of hers, “I trust you… you’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t as though he was lying. Harry had driven them out to a deserted road just out of town. Close enough away that they’d be home at a normal time, but far enough away that there wasn’t any traffic which would interrupt them. There wasn’t anything but stone and grass around them, and whilst if YN came to a haphazard stop, it wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing ever – there wasn’t a lot of damage that she could do to Harry’s bike.

Harry let go of her other hand, and she was doing it. Granted, she didn’t go over 2mph, but she was still riding the bike on her own. She wasn’t comfortable enough to attempt to turn yet, so she just came to a slow stop a few metres further down from where Harry was. She kicked the stand down and climbed off the bike – turning towards Harry with a smile on her face.

“I did it!” She bounced over to Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck, his coming to rest around her waist.

“Never doubted you,” He leaned down to place a kiss on her lips, pulling her body flush against his. Before anything more could happen, the sound of crunching on the road, as well as the sound of a siren interrupted them.

YN’s heart started to beat rapidly at the sight of a police car inching towards them. Whilst YN had dealt with police before working in her previous bars, she hadn’t ever been out in the open with her and only one other person when talking to them. Knowing that Harry also ran a motorcycle gang added another level of worry to it.

Harry just pulled YN with him, going to rest against his bike. He looked completely unfazed, whilst YN truly was shitting in her boots slightly. The police car stopped right in front of them, and as the door swung open to the car, Harry lit up a cigarette and brought it up to his lips – again, making it aware that he was completely unfazed by what was happening.

“Styles,” The officer sighed, slamming his car door behind him shit as he walked towards the two of them, “You’re not an easy man to find.”

“Hmm,” Harry just hums, inhaling from his cigarette, “I had no idea you were even looking for me… I wouldn’t have just stood in the middle of the road if I knew.”

The officer chuckled, placing his hands on his hips, “We had reports last night that you attacked a man.”

Harry shook his head, “Couldn’t have been me.”

“It happened at your bar,” The officer took a step forward towards Harry, “Had reports that you hit him over the head with a beer bottle.”

Harry just chuckles, “Officer Thompson, I don’t have time for this he said she said bullshit. If you’ve got something to say to me, I think you should say it.”

The officer just hummed, “Where were you last night?”

“I was at the bar,” Harry nodded, “All night.”

YN started to panic from beside him, but she tried not to make it obvious. Harry must have complete and utter trust in his riders to not say anything to the police. It made sense now to YN as to why that man hadn’t been given a jacket. He had instigated the fight, and yet he had run straight to the police with it. He was a coward and a rat.

“Can anyone corroborate this?”

“I can,” YN was surprised at how strongly her voice came out, “I was there with him all night, I work there.”

The officer hums once more, his eyes dropping down to focus on Harry once more. YN realises that it’s then that the officer has spotted his bandaged hand. YN’s mind starts to spiral slightly, hoping that one of them will be able to come up with something quickly.

“What, uh,” The officer couldn’t hide the smile on his face, obviously thinking that he had found him out, “What happened to your hand, Styles?”

Harry opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so YN interrupts. She giggles slightly, knowing exactly what type of character was going to be believable for this officer. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

“I’m so sorry, officer, that was my fault,” YN took a small step towards the officer, but not far enough that she wasn’t in arms reach of Harry, “See, I’m real clumsy. And yesterday, I dropped a whole crate of beer and Harry heard the crash, and he helped me clean up – unfortunately, he cut his hand in the process.”

The officer’s eyes moved between Harry and YN. There was no way at that point for YN to try and guess what he was thinking – or what he was going to say. Then, when the officer’s face broke out into a smile just the same as YN’s, she knew she had convinced him.

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss, and I hope you have a good rest of your day,” Then the officer turned to Harry, and the smile on his face dropped, “I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Styles.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to it Officer Thompson.”

Harry rested against his bike the entire time, whilst YN had her arms crossed against her chest. They didn’t say another word to each other until they watched the car turn around and drive away from them. It was only then that YN turned to Harry, who was running a hand over his face. Sighing, YN walked over to him, grabbing his hands (but making sure to be careful of his injured hand).

“You didn’t have to do that,” Harry shakes his head, pulling her hands up so that he can place a kiss on the back of them.

“I know,” YN nods, “But I wanted to.”

Harry rests his chin upon their connected hands, “I wanna take you somewhere.”

YN would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about where Harry lived once or twice because she had. He had been to her apartment a few times to pick her up, and whilst she hadn’t necessarily wanted to be that forward and ask him where he lived, there was a part of her which wondered about it.

It was a strange circumstance. Where does the leader of a gang live? Where does he rest his head at night? Where does make his coffee in the morning? Whilst YN wouldn’t necessarily admit it, she was an inquisitive person.  

When Harry’s bike came to a stop outside of a garage, one that seemingly had an apartment attached to the top of it – it all made sense. Yes, the bar had to be doing well, with how many people were in it daily. But there had to be another way that Harry was making money, and it seemed as though this was it. She wondered if this had anything to do with the shipments that the other man had been speaking about.

He kicked the standout and gave YN the space the climb off before he did. He walked over to the shutter, unlocked the padlock, and threw it open. The apartment didn’t look too big, but the shop itself was huge. She had expected a car, maybe a few bikes – but she hadn’t expected rows upon rows of bikes lining the side of the walls. In the middle, YN could see the different stations where Harry and some of the other members worked.

“Are these all yours?” YN asked, her finger reaching out to run across the glossy black exterior of one of the bikes closest to her.

“Most of them,” Harry shrugged, dropping the shutter closed behind the two of them after pushing his bike inside, “Me and a few others, we buy them and restore them, make them better to sell on.”

“God, Harry,” YN turns to him, an expression of what could only be described as amazement on her features, “This is amazing.”

He just offered her a small smile, taking small steps towards her until he was close enough to wrap his arms around her middle. YN giggled slightly, resting her head on Harry’s shoulder as he pulled her closer to him.

“Pick one.”

The features on YN’s lips dropped again, “What?”

“Pick one,” Harry repeated, “A bike.”

“Yeah, I gathered that, Harry, I’m just confused as to why.”

He just shrugged, leaning back against the workbench near the two of them. YN turned around so that she was facing him, and Harry at once pressed his hands against her waist. It was funny to YN, to see the big, scary, gang member was so soft around her, and they hadn’t necessarily known each other very long.

“You said it yourself,” He shrugged, his hands pulling her between her body between his open legs, “If you’re gonna be a rider, you’ve got to ride. Seems like you need a bike to do that.”

“Yeah, but I’ll buy one,” YN spoke, as though it was the most obvious thing in the word, “When I have the cash for it.”

Harry shook his head, “No need, rather have you on one of these. Tested them myself, they’re all safe.”

YN just shook her head, propelling her body even further forward so that she could wrap her arms around Harry’s neck and press her lips against his. It was a clumsy kiss, with both of their teeth clashing and smiles upon their features but they did not care.

“Thank you,” She mumbled against his lips, pressing a flurry of chaste kisses to them afterwards.

Harry shook his head, “No need – pick one, baby.”

YN pushed her body up and started to walk up and down the rows of bikes until she spotted it. It was about halfway down the row, a bike with dark green glossy accents, looking nothing but sleek with the dark metal of the engine. It was the one that she wanted, and the second she was standing in front of it she knew it was hers. With that beaming smile across her features, YN turned and launched herself at Harry, wrapping her legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on the plump skin of her arse over her dark denim jeans. Even though YN suspected that she had caught him off guard, he didn’t show it on his face.

“How can I ever thank you?” She asked between a litter of kisses to his lips, a boyish smile crossing his features afterwards that YN wants nothing more than to bottle up and remember forever.

“That smile of yours is enough,” Harry nods at her, pressing another full kiss to her lips.

YN tilts her head to the side, turning to look at Harry with a slight smirk crossing her features. His eyebrows furrowed as though he already suspected she was coming up with something in her head.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Maybe…” YN starts, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip, hesitating, “Maybe there’s another way I can thank you.”

Harry’s eyes widened, as though he was finally catching on to the thoughts swimming around in YN’s head.

“We don’t have to,” Harry shakes his head quickly. “I promise I’m not expecting anything from you.”

YN just shakes her head, leaning forward to place another kiss on his lips. Her hands tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I know you’re not,” YN offers him a smile, “I want to. I promise.”

Harry shook his head, a groan emitting from his lips as he tugged her even closer to him if that was possible. YN giggles at his obvious joy at her statement.

“God,” He rests his forehead against hers, “I know it’s wrong, but I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

Harry turns, as though he’s going to walk out of the garage, but YN stops him. He furrows his eyebrows at her, and she just giggles once more.

“Want it here.”

“What?”

“Want it here, want you on the bench,” Harry groans once more, moving to drop her down upon the workbench that he had been rested upon earlier.

“Are you sure I haven’t dreamt you up?”

“Nope,” YN shakes her head, “I’m real.”

YN threads her fingers back through the curls at the nape of his neck, bringing his face back to hers. It doesn’t take long for their lips to connect once more. It wasn’t sweet or light. It was rough, as though both of them were finally able to do what they had both been thinking about.

Harry’s hands start to move down her body, resting on the hem of her jeans. She can feel his thumbs pressing down into the skin of her waist, and when it registers in her brain what he was trying to do YN pulls away, shaking her head.

“Not yet,” She lightly pushes his body to the side so that she can jump off the bench, “I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“You don’t have to,” YN’s hands rest on the lapels of his jacket, waiting for his nod before she pushes it off his shoulders.

“I want to.”

It takes just one swipe for Harry to pull his shirt over his head whilst YN’s hands come to rest upon his belt buckle. YN’s eyes widen at the sight of his exposed chest, as well as the tattoos that litter his sin. YN knew that Harry had tattoos; she had seen the ones on his arms multiple times, but it felt different to see the ones on his chest.

Her fingers work quickly to pull Harry’s belt buckle open, working on the button and zip of his jeans next. YN drops down to her knees, pushing Harry back slightly so that he’s resting against the workbench. Harry peers down at her, his chest heaving up and down in anticipation. Her hand rests upon the grey material of his boxers, palming his already semi-hard cock through the light material.

“You like teasing?”

YN shrugs lightly, “I have no clue what you mean.”

Harry laughs, watching her intently as her fingers loop into the band of his boxers, pulling them down to expose him to her. YN finds herself unable to pull her eyes away from his cock. She knew it had to be big from palming him through his boxers but seeing it before she made her mouth water and pressure to build in the pit of her stomach.

She placed a light kiss on his tip, which was already red and leaking from his obvious arousal. YN smiled, giving it a lick from the base to the tip before she used her hand to give it a few tugs. YN was confident in her moves, even though she had only done it a few times before in her life. She gained more confidence from the moans leaving Harry’s lips; they were deep and quiet, but she could hear them, and they caused her to squeeze her thighs together in hopes that it would give her some relief.

“YN… please,” It almost sounded as though he was pleading with her to do something, and YN almost moaned at the sound.

YN wraps her lips around the tip of Harry’s cock, beginning to bob her head up and down. One of her hands rested upon his thigh, whilst the other wrapped around the base of his cock, helping her with what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. Her tongue lightly grazed his tip, earning a louder moan from Harry that egged her on further.

“Fuck… YN.”

Harry’s hands came to rest in her hair, helping her to move her head up and down his cock. It was a light tug that caused YN to moan around his cock, and she could feel Harry resisting from bucking his hips to meet her. Instead, she continued to bob her head, speeding up in hopes that it would help him recover from her teasing.

“YN gotta pull away,” Harry says after a minute or so, his grip on her hair tightening, “I’m gonna cum.”

YN doesn’t stop, however, instead, she keeps going until she hears him moan louder and start to cum down her throat. When she looks up at him, his head is thrown back, and his eyes are closed. She works her head up and down until he’s finished, only pulling away then. When she looks back up at him he has a look in his eyes that makes her assume that they aren’t done.

YN giggles as he puts his hands on her waist and pulls her up so she’s standing, immediately placing a kiss on her lips, seemingly not caring about the fact that his cum was on them. YN’s legs nearly gave out then and there, and she had to place her hands on his biceps to steady herself.

“Did that show my thanks?” She asked, tilting her head to the side innocently.

Harry wraps his arms around her thighs once more, picking her up effortlessly.

“Damn right, it did,” Harry starts to walk over to the door that she suspects goes into the house, “But I’m not done with you yet.”

It was quiet at Clover’s, a lull mid-afternoon on a Friday before everyone picked their spots for the night. YN had spent an hour or so cleaning and drying the glasses that had been used earlier in the day, making sure that they were to have enough for the night ahead.

The repeated motion of washing and drying gave her time to think, and more often than not, she found herself daydreaming about her morning, which she had spent in Harry’s bed, wrapped up in his arms. The two of them had been pretty inseparable before, but after he had gifted her the bike, it had seemingly gotten even worse, if that was possible. It had been weeks since that day, and YN could probably count on one hand the nights she had spent alone since then. Harry waited every night for her after work, and even when he couldn’t she would return to his house and wait for him there.

They hadn’t spoken about what they were necessarily, but that didn’t matter to YN. She didn’t need a label to know how she felt about Harry, and she assumed Harry felt about her also. For the first time in a long time YN was happy, and even though she was only a bartender and that useless history degree of hers wasn’t doing much – she wasn’t yearning for something else, for something better. YN truly felt as though it couldn’t get any better than it currently was.

The door to the bar pushed open, and whilst YN thought it was probably a rider coming in for a drink, she was shocked to see that it was Mick, obviously dropping in to start his shift. Thankfully, since YN had taken the day shift she didn’t have to stay until close tonight, meaning that she could spend more time in bed with Harry to end her week.

“Hey, YN,” She offered Mick a smile, “Just lemme drop my shit in the back and then you can go on break.”

“Thanks, Mick.”

Once he was back out, and she had passed over what she was doing to him, she made her way outside with the sandwich that Harry had made for her earlier. She was going to make her lunch, but Harry insisted that he make it for her. YN smiled at the memory of her sitting upon his kitchen counter, clad only in one of his t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. They had laughed and joked and, at one point, had a break to dance around the kitchen to the song that was playing over the radio.

YN hadn’t had many relationships before, two at most she could think of, but they were never like this. They always felt transactional to YN. But with Harry, it truly felt as though they were two halves. There was a level of domesticity that YN loved more than anything with him, and every little task that they did together meant so much.

Once YN had eaten her sandwich, her thoughts filled with Harry and their morning. YN pulled her legs underneath her and began to read her book, knowing that she could get a chapter or so read before her break was over. It was a book about the Tudors she was reading, something that had been a passion of hers during her degree. It had been a while since she had read anything, but she supposed that the want came from her peace and happiness being restored.

She had just finished a chapter on Henry VIII’s Economic policy when she heard noise from the front of the bar. It was loud, and the voices that were speaking were quick, but it was muffled, so she couldn’t quite decipher what was being said. Putting her bookmark into place and closing the book, she pushed up from the chair and made her way towards the bar.

Mick was standing there, with three or four others in front of him. They looked panicked, and their words reflected that.

“Tell me again,” Mick placed his hands down on the counter, “I can’t tell a word you’re saying when you’re talking that quickly.”

“An accident, Mick,” It was Taylor who spoke, “There was an accident. We were riding along, and this truck came outta nowhere, sent him flying.”

YN moved towards them, her heart immediately starting to thump within her chest.

“Who?” Her words came out quickly, all of the men’s heads turning towards her, “Who went flying?”

“YN… I…” Taylor took a step towards her, his entire face dropping.

That was when she knew.

Her palms started to sweat, and her body felt heavy. There was a dizziness inside her head, and for one second she thought that she was going to fall to ground.

It was Harry.

“Where is he?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, the tears finally starting to collect within her waterline.

“YN…” Mick started.

“No, Mick,” She shook her head, “Where is he? Tell me where he is!”

Taylor took another step closer towards her, “I don’t know. The woman in the store across the street from where it happened phoned an ambulance, I left before they came. If I hazard a guess, they’ll be on their way to the hospital by now.”

YN nodded and before she knew it she was stalking her way outside and towards her bike. Ignoring the tears that were clouding her vision she climbed upon. Just as she was about to start it, a hand touched her elbow. It was Mick. She almost broke down crying there and then.

“Don’t,” Mick shook his head, “You can’t drive like that, darlin’. Let Taylor take you. Please.”

“He has to be okay,” YN shook her head, the sobs starting to wrack through her body.

Mick nodded, helping her off the bike, “He will be. But, if you wanna get there safely, in one piece let the boys take you.”

YN nods, walking over to Taylor’s bike and hopping on behind him. Mick gave her hand one last squeeze.

“Send him my love, okay?” Mick spoke and YN nodded, not trusting herself to be able to reply in that moment.

Taylor started the engine, and before she knew anything, they were hurtling down the street. This time, though, she wasn’t thinking about the wind in her hair.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Play Pretend | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader

Summary: He's Lightning McQueen. You're Elle Woods. But, when Charles misses you, he makes it known that perhaps your career isn't as important as his wishes to start a family.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever? Miscommunication.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

2024 but some events switched around 

I'm trying to make all of these different to each other so I'm sorry that this one was less baby fever and more baby mention.

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and others 

YourUserName the cause of stress v. the support systems   tagged: charles_leclerc, YourBestFriend

6,883 comments

User1 i love how all her captions ft her degree are legal themed 

charles_leclerc ❤️💛

charles_leclerc mon ange, what are you doing in that second photo

→ YourUserName it’s probably best you don’t know, char

→ YourBestFriend cocktails were involved

→ charles_leclerc this is why i don’t like leaving her with you 

→ YourBestFriend cry me a river, vroom vroom boy 

lilymhe i still think i would be a better support system than charles

→ YourUserName and i fully agree. let’s run away together

→ alex_albon whoa, whoa, whoa. get your own girlfriend

→ charles_leclerc she already has her own girlfriend! 

→ charles_leclerc wait, no

→ User2 the prettiest girlfriend

User3 i swear charles and y/n are the cutest f1 couple

→ User4 they always look so infatuated with each other 

→ User5 umm, how? she's literally never at races 

→ User6 because she’s off being successful in her own way, and charles supports that? plus, she’s always snapped in ferrari merch on race days whether she’s there or not

→ User7 omg yes! when a classmate took a pic of her leaving a final in bright red, and she was easily the most spottable person in that hall 

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charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc welcome home baby leo  tagged: YourUserName

12,298 comments

YourUserName my two favourite boys ❤️

User8 did you see in the background of one of the pics, they have his “birth certificate” framed and it says leo leclerc-y/l/n. he truly is their child

roscoelovescoco can’t wait’s to see’s a new’s friend in’s the paddock’s 

→ User9 roscoe-leo play date when please

→ User10 not until 2025 😂

User11 but let’s all take a moment to appreciate how cool leo’s parents are. he has an f1 racer for a dad, and a fashionable law student for a mum

→ User12 haha his parents are lightning mcqueen and elle woods 

pierregasly thanks mate. now kika is going to want one

→ YourUserName and you should give her one. i need a mum friend 

User13 first they adopt ollie and now leo. who’s next

→ YourUserName oscar

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User1 the interviewer was asking about future races and charles wasted no time in bringing up his girlfriend. he’s so down bad 

User2 the way his face lights up when he talks about her. he really does love her. 

User3 oh Charles, honey, that’s not giving what you think it is 

User4 any other woman slightly uncomfortable with the way this was worded?

→ User5 lets all take a moment to remember that english isn’t his first language. he obviously meant well, and the love in his eyes shows that he’s excited about a life with y/n, it just wasn’t worded in the best way 

User6 the interviewer was so skeezy for that last comment though

User7 i feel so bad for y/n. she’s always so supportive of charles' races, even when she’s not there, and charles is talking about how he can't wait for her to be done with her degree so she can follow him around the world 

→ User8 i don’t think he meant it that way. he looked horrified when the interviewer interpreted it that way but the interview ended before he could clarify further 

User9 do we think mom and dad are fighting after his *slightly* misogynistic comments about making her a kept woman

→ User10 i really hope not but my heart says yes because he basically said he’ll turn her into a travel wife who only cares about his career but said nothing about her career that she’s working really hard on

User11 i didn’t realise how much i depended on y/n’s post race posts until i didn’t get one

→ User12 she always posts the most panty-dropping post race charles pics 

User13 i miss them already 

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User1 oh god, it’s official

User2 brb just gonna go cry my eyes out for an hour 

User3 literally half of her insta posts have disappeared because they were all charles 

→ User4 the only thing keeping me sane is that any post where he wasn’t the main focus but slightly in them have been kept 

User5 can someone check on ollie? see how he’s coping as a child of divorce 

liked by OllieBearman

User6 yes, yes. this is all very sad but now that i’m done crying, can we talk about what is going to happen with leo? is this going to be a shared custody agreement?

→ User7 how could i forget about leo. do you think they’ll see each other at child drop off or make arthur be the middle man?

User8 i can't believe they just got a puppy together and now they’re going to be co-parenting instead :( 

User9 maybe this is just a minor speed bump in the road to their everlasting happiness? (yes, i’m hoping that they’re simply taking a small break)

→ User10 may all your delulus come trululu

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by lilymhe, arthur_leclerc and others 

YourUserName the verdict is unanimous… I’m stressing

3,880 comments

YourBestFriend this barbies practices law

→ YourBestFriend not long left, babe. just a couple of exams and we’re qualified adults

→ YourUserName i don’t think we should ever be classed as qualified adults lol 

→ YourMum i still can't get over the fact that you two used to play pretend lawyers as little girls and now you're actually going to be one

lilymhe good luck, y/n. you’re gonna smash these! 

→ YourUserName if not, fancy running me over with your golf cart? 

arthur_leclerc good luck, y/n/n. try not to drink too much caffeine 

→ YourUserName i’m not that bad! 

→ arthur_leclerc you cannot lie to me. i have had to listen to you after three red bulls

→ landonorris betrayal! 

User1 she’s so real for that last slide tho. like miss y/l/n you are gorgeous and we’re glad you know it

YourClassmate how do you look so nice despite being in the library until 2am?

→ User2 dude, no. that line is not going to pull the stunning y/n y/l/n

→ User3 literally, the love of her life is charles leclerc and this guy thinks he’s going to win her over with a bad line 

User4 guys, is anyone else missing the sweet comments charles would always leave 

→ User5 he would be agreeing with the last slide and telling her how beautiful and smart she is 

→ User6 how about we don’t remind her of her ex-boyfriend the day before her life-changing exams

carlossainz55 good luck🤞🏼

→ User7 not sainz being messy on main

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by pierregasly, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc there is nothing like racing in italy for ferrari. i wish we had a better result, but that was the maximum today. we’ll try again next week. 

8,449 comments

User9 did you see his interview of him on his way out of the paddock? man was in a rush with poor leo tucked under his arm

→ User10 it’s y/n’s week with leo so charles was running out there because it was time to go see his favourite girl 

→ User11 he was not wasting a minute to see the love of his life 

User12 charles racing faster to go see his ex-girlfriend who he’s wildly obsessed with than he did all weekend 

→ User13 bestie you better pray he doesn’t see this 

→ User14 why? ‘cause he’ll have to fight the urge to like it 

User15 i’m so happy that it’s y/n’s week with leo because we’re going to get the most adorable puppy pics on her story all week

→ User16 also it means that his parents will be conversing 

User17 i love that we’re all depending on leo to get f1’s favourite couple back together 

Baby Fever Angst Series

(This wasn’t due out until tomorrow but I’ve released it earlier in honour of THE MONACO WIN BABY!!!!!!) 🥳🍾🥳🍾

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @elijahslover @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @brsr @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @dullypully @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish

[lolasky]

ㅤㅤㅤ HEY DADDY!

[ ᯓ★ ] meeting their future child with you when you're not even dating yet | fem!reader | fluff, humour (at some point), a teeny tiny bit of angst on usopp's one, foul language (just koro saying an 'ass') ꩜ | wc. 4.7k — approx. 1k each |

not said, but kazuki is 4, koro is 8, nyla is 6 and heaven is 11

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤL U F F Y

he'd be so confused once he saw a little boy just like him. not just in appearance, but with his whole energy. once he learned and accepted the fact that the boy – who was his mini version, the crew couldn't even doubt – was his son, he refused to give him back to his timeline.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

the straw hat crew has just docked at an island so they could get some supplies before getting back to sailing.

"okay, so, sanji and i are going to get some food," you tell, waiting for sanji to get out of the kitchen with the list.

"robin and i are going shopping!" nami says excitedly. "are you sure you don't wanna go with us instead with... him...?" she points to the blonde cook, who was lighting up another cigarette.

"i wanna go too!" luffy yells from inside, running to the deck, where the crew were at.

"you. stay." the navigator says through her teeth. "we'll be quick and don't need any trouble. you stay with zoro and watch the ship."

luffy pouted, watching his crew get down from the ship. he looked at zoro, thinking if he could pest him a little, but soon the swordsman brushed him off saying "i'm gonna sleep. if you make any noise or cause some trouble, i'm gonna slice you in three."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

nami and robin were getting out of another store with more bags, chatting about random things when a kid bumped into them and fell.

"oh, i'm sorry, little one..." robin drops her bags and kneels in front of the little boy, offering her hand to help him stand up, but as soon as she sees his lips quivering and his eyes starting to get wet, she worries.

the little boy stretched his arms out to her, asking silently to be picked up and so she did.

"where are your parents, little boy?" nami asks in a soft tone, watching him getting comfortable in robin's arms.

"and what's your name?" the archaeologist drops the second question.

the kid gazed at the woman, lips quivering again and his voice trembling when he asked "you... you don't rwemember my name aunt lobin?"

nami gave her a weird look. she was as confused as robin. watching the little one in her arms closer, he reminded her of someone. the messy black hair, the big round eyes, the pout. why the hell does this kid look so much like luffy? robin seemed to notice the same thing as her.

"okay... so... what about we look for your parents, huh? and you can tell me your name 'cause i love hearing you say it!" the older woman says, eliciting a big smile from the boy. nami coughed immediately.

"can we go to the shwip? i'm sure they are thewe!" he holds the women's hands and pulls them in any direction.

it sure made the navigator and the archaeologist even more confused because how did he know they had a ship? and why would his parents be there?

"so, sweetheart, tell me your name?" robin asks once again.

"oh! i'm kazuki!" he stops abruptly, making nami almost trip and fall. "i'm monkey d. kazuki!" and that's how their jaws went slack.

"YOU'RE WHO?!" they panic.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

as soon as the girls got back to the sunny, they met all of the crewmates, except for sanji and you, who apparently hadn't been back yet.

"who's that kid?" usopp asks confused. mainly because he couldn't pry kazuki off of him and his nose.

"where did this kid come from?" zoro asks. he was starting to get irritated.

"uncle zoro, whewe is dada?" the little version of luffy asks, a bit upset that usopp could get him off of him.

"how would i know, kiddo?" he answers in the same annoyed tone as ever.

"i'm so hungry! when is sanji coming?" luffy whines, showing up at the deck and there they could spot the similarities.

not only their hair, eyes, pout, or even the big grin kazuki offered, but the energy the kid had. he was just like luffy in many ways. he just wasn't that loud like the straw hat captain – thanks to his mother.

once the crew saw them together, all the pieces seemed to connect. one, two, three blinks in disbelief and the boys' jaws fell to the ground.

"oh, hey kid!" luffy greets him friendly.

"dada!" the little boy jumped into the captain's arms who seemed as clueless as ever.

and a wave of yelling could be heard.

a couple of minutes has passed by and luffy and his son seemed to get along well. zoro, chopper, usopp, brook and franky were in the same position, they were still loading the information.

the captain and his little kid were running around the sunny, playing tag. they even tried to call the others but they didn't... seem like playing.

"you know, kazuki is too old to be in this... uhm... timeline..." nami points it out to robin.

"i know. how can luffy have had a son?" she murmurs, watching both run and giggle around the ship.

"robin!" it seems to call the other back to earth. "i'm seriously worried! and we don't even know who his mother is." the navigator looks stressed. one luffy is enough trouble, but a luffy and a mini him?

"we don't even know how he got here in the first place." robin sighs.

"we're back!" you announce as you put some bags on the floor.

"wow! you took more time than us." nami approaches you. "what happened?"

"well... sanji decided to pick up a fight over a fish..." you say casually. "uhm... did we miss something?" you notice the boys, finding it normal – well, for the straw hats, but as soon you spot a kid running around the ship with the manchild your captain is, you get confused. "who's that kid?"

"long story..." nami smiles innocently.

"did you kidnap a kid?"

"what? no! it's not- it isn't-"

"mama!" a childly voice is heard from the depths of the sunny and you can see that kid from before running to you happily.

okay, it's going too far!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

"so, this kid, kazuki, is luffy son's with... you?!" usopp tries to connect all the pieces. you hum an "yes" and his brain seems to burn. "too much information, too much information!" he holds his head while falling to the ground dramatically.

"when did you and luffy make a baby?" zoro asks confused as ever.

"don't be stupid mosshead. this kid is clearly from the future." sanji answers, blowing the smoke away.

"thanks, sanji." you smile at him, who looks at you like he's helplessly in love.

you feel a tug in your shirt and look down at your kid. "is something wrong, little one?"

"mama, i wanna sleep..." he rubs his eyes and yawns, blinking slowly while stretching his arms out to you. the whole crew – zoro included – had their hearts melted.

"then let's sleep, huh?" you say softly, picking him up and gently caressing his cheek and hair as he snuggled against you.

luffy runs to you, seeing his child in your arms. "what? don't tell me you're sleepy already, kid!" the captain pouts, watching the baby yawn. "no, let's play more!" he bounces excitedly.

"luffy, he's tired." you hiss, wanting your baby as calm as possible.

"but i wanna play more with my son!" he insists.

"you played enough, don't you think?" you start to make your way inside the sunny with luffy following you, insisting that they should play more. "now he wants to sleep with his mama."

"but-"

"mama, dada, let's sleep, pwease?" hearing the sleepy voice of his child, luffy seems to calm down a little.

"sure baby." you peck his forehead. "but your dada is not joining us 'till he baths." luffy gasps.

"how can you betray the dada of your child like that?" the captain whines, still following you to your quarters.

"yeah, i guess they settled pretty quickly to this life of mama and dada." nami comments, grinning at their recent view.

"i can't believe this idiot became a father before me." usopp complains, murmuring still lying on the floor.

"how do you know that?" chopper asks. "well, maybe all of you are already parents in the future..." that simple sentence was enough to ignite something in zoro, usopp and sanji.

"hey, kazuki! don't sleep right now!" zoro shouts.

"yeah, tell me if your great uncle usopp gave you little friends to play with, huh?" usopp is the first to run, looking for the little family.

"surely i'm the only one qualified enough to even get a spouse!" sanji yells at zoro, punching him to reach the one person who could give him the precious information.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤZ O R O

he'd be as confused as luffy and would deny every word that kid would say. like, only just because a kid has green hair, is almost obsessed with swords, has the guts to insult him and is the sassiest kid he'd ever met, that is his son, huh? he definitely could grow accustomed to the presence of that child and the fact that he made him with you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

another island could be seen by the pirates. it meant they could dock there to stock some items. franky was the one eager. on their way, some pirates tried to fight the straw hats – which obviously couldn't be a good idea. well, the matter is, the sunny had some minor damages and usopp and franky were trying to keep their home alive.

chopper and you didn't need anything. the medical supplies were enough for a while, so you and he didn't need to go outside, but he wanted to. nami went to see if she could buy something she liked. luffy went to see if he could find a nice restaurant. zoro, robin, brook and you stayed on the ship.

zoro and you had a hate-love relationship. you were friends and would get along, but he's the sassiest man you've ever met and just gets on your nerves. you just want to kill him.

some time has passed by and the crew came back. you were still reading your book, laying your head on robin's legs as she sunbathed.

"hey, uhm... i didn't know zoro and you were together..." usopp says awkwardly, approaching you as robin coughs in disbelief.

"we're not." you stand up, angry. "what is that stupid vegetable slicer saying now?"

"no! nothing! is just... franky and i found a kid... and he's... claiming to be your son..." you gag.

"MY WHAT?!" you hear zoro yelling and soon coughing desperately.

"where is he?" you ask the sharpshooter who points to the entrance. the green-haired kid looks so timid. he's just standing there, looking at every part of the ship. you approach him calmly, bending a bit so you can talk better to him. "hey, kid!" you offer him a smile and he can't help but feel calmer.

"hi, mom..." he answers in a low voice, still shy.

"why don't you say your name and we get to meet the others, huh? so you can tell us more about what's going on. do you know what's going on?" he looks into your eyes and advert his gaze again.

"something like that..." he plays with his fingers before answering your first question. "my name is roronoa koro." your eyes widen a bit, you can't hide your surprise.

"so you're really the kid of that stupid man..." you murmur and he nods.

"i swear he gets more likeable in the future." koro says, earning a warmful giggle from you. seeing his mother never fails to calm him.

"i rather see it myself." you offer your hand to him, who holds it without even thinking. "let's see the others."

as you walk hand-in-hand with koro, getting closer to the crewmates, they couldn't believe what their eyes were just seeing.

zoro's jaw fell on the ground. how- how can he have a child? with... you?

the little kid gasps immediately once he sees the swords zoro is carrying. he runs to his father and try to touch the the swords, but the grumpy swordsman doesn't let him to.

"what you think you doing?" he asks, holding the kid's head so he couldn't get closer.

"do you use them often?" the boy asks, curiosity dripping from his eyes.

"of course, i use them often. why wouldn't i?"

"well, currently, the three swords are untouched, held by a support in the living room's wall..." the little roronoa answers, trying to touch them at all costs. "let me see it!"

"no, you won't touch it!" zoro insists.

a loud noise was heard by the crew. a tray with some snacks was splattered on the floor while sanji stood there, looking at the little mosshead in front of him.

"am i seeing it right?" the blond cook's eyes were wide open. "WHY IS THERE A LITTLE MOSSHEAD?"

"uncle sanji!" the little boy runs to his beloved uncle, who was left flabbergasted.

"you like him? he's a stupid cook!" the swordsman was at a loss of words.

"and so are you." sanji laughs his ass off. his eyes glossy because of the tears of joy. "seriously... i can't believe you had- well, you're gonna have kids with this idiot." he talks directly to you.

"trust me... i have no reasons to..."

"my favourite boy! tell me, kid, what do you wanna eat? i can prepare anything just for you." sanji talks to him, guiding koro to the kitchen. luffy is following them quietly until sanji yells at him so he scurries away.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

trying to know more about him and where he came from, zoro and you sit and talk to koro. you were lying on a wall, koro was by your side and zoro was in front of you.

"so, how did you come here?" you ask the boy.

"i don't know. last thing i remember i was sleeping, then i ended up at that weird place." your son explains. "the weirdest thing is... my sister was next to me... why she's not here too?" he sounded confused.

"wait... not only one but two kids with the mosshead? what did i do to deserve such a punishment?" you mumble.

"ha ha, like it's my dream to have kids with you." the swordsman hissed.

"not only two, but three. you're pregnant." you gag as you listen to his words.

"three..." you whisper, not believing a thing. "what's your thing, huh? three earrings, three swords, three kids. are you obsessed or something?" you yell at zoro who just smirks.

"might be my lucky number." he keeps that eat-shitting grin on that stupid pretty face while you die internally. "wait, you have a sister... what's her... name?"

"the one you fought mom to name her. kuina." koro's face lit up at the mention of his sister. he really loves his family.

that annoying grin zoro held up in his face was replaced by a genuine smile which made you smile along, happy. koro knew about the past of both his parents and was really proud of them.

"lord, please give me strenght..." you sigh. "well, i know it can be a bit... confusing not to call me mom, so you can keep it..."

"and you like it..." you son knows you too well no to notice it. doesn't matter what timeline he's at, you'll always be his favourite person.

"and i like it..." you smile, ruffling his short green hair. "okay, i'll try to find some way to send you back to your life. future me and... zoro... might be worried." you stand up, pecking his forehead and walk away.

"pleeease, let me see it! mom never lets me..." the little boy pouts, making grabby hands at his father as soon as you're out of sight. "please, dad!"

that word. that kid.

"fine. but only if you tell me some things. it'll be our... little dad and son secret." zoro suggests, knowing way too well his son wouldn't refuse.

"deal!" he answers excitedly while watching his father pull wado ichimonji from its sheath.

koro inspects the sword. his eyes are bright, sparkling like a starry sky. he's just like his father, a swords lover. even though his mother has forbidden him from using one. zoro has an amused look watching his little soon-to-be-swordsman.

"so... did i become the greatest swordsman?" he questions, seeing koro maneuvering his sword.

"yes, you defeated mihawk." the reply is short and simple due to the boy's concentration to something else.

zoro just celebrates, murmuring a few things, feeling like he's the strongest man alive.

"did future me teach you that well how to use a sword?"

"sure thing! despite mom's clear rule not to let me touch a sword 'til i was sixteen, you've started to teach me two years ago." the kid smiles.

"and... last thing... uhm... did future me ever tell you how i get your mom?" the swordsman looks a little hesitant, even more when he sees the knowing look koro was shooting at him.

"hate her my ass." the roronoa kid mumbles.

"hey!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤU S O P P

the moment he spotted you coming back with a child, he thought you've just kidnapped her, but as soon as he laid his eyes on the little girl, he thought it was too good to be just a joke. when the girl introduced herself, he couldn't help but smile and welcome her, loving the idea of being the father of such a cute girl.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

the crew were preparing to set sail. the island they docked at was way too small, so they hadn't much to do there. as soon as they've got everything they needed – or the island could provide – they'd get back to sailing.

yet, you were walking around the place, seeing some things, and if you liked it, you'd keep it.

you were standing at a fruit stall, hearing the seller babble about some rare golden fruit he just got from a distant island, but you knew it was just talking. you were distracted by your favourite fruit – which looked so pretty and delicious – that you didn't even notice a little girl running around.

"dada? dada!" she was screaming. she looked so terrified.

you turned around, seeing the kid crying. some people were trying to help her, some people were just ignoring her and passing by. but as soon as she spots you, she runs to you like you are her hope.

"mama!" she clutched to you and refused to let you go.

"oh! uhm... hey, baby... i'm- i'm not your mother, kid..." you tried to pry her off of you, but her grip was too strong.

"yes, you are! you're my mama! dada always talks about you and shows pictures of both of you. you are my mama!" she yells at you, not giving you space.

"okay, okay, let me see you, right?" she looked hesitant, but eventually she loosened her grip and looked up to you. she was so beautiful and reminded you of someone. "first, tell me your name, huh?" you knelt in front of her, taking her face in your hands.

"nyla..." the girl looks at you with such admiration.

"and where are your parents?" she frowned.

"you're here!" she insists, pouting when you refuse to be her mother. "you've met me! and dada might... be on the ship?"

"what?"

"the ship, mommy! can we go there, please?" her eyes were sparkling.

"fine..." you just accept. she streches her arms out to you, wanting to be as close as possible to you. you pick her up, heading to the sunny.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

"uhm... who's... that girl?" usopp asks as he's the first to spot you with a child in your arms.

"dada!" nyla is quick to let go of you and run to her father, who just stands there, looking shocked.

"HE'S YOUR FATHER?" you yell, as shocked as usopp.

"yes! and you're my mama! and i'm happy to be here!" she points and hugs usopp, who embraces her too.

nami shows up at the deck and frowns. "who-"

"our daughter." you just accepted. it looked so confusing and complicated, you just accepted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

late at night, nyla wanted her father to sleep with both of you, but when you said usopp had to sleep in the boy's quarters, she sulked a bit, but eventually, accepted. it was clear to see that she was attached to you, like your shadow, or an extension of you.

"okay, so, i can stay just by the time you sleep, or else your mother throws me outta the ship." usopp explains casually, smiling, getting in the bed.

"right! i want mommy anyways!" she nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck while hugging you.

"see! i'm the favourite, hah!" you tease the sniper, who crosses his arms, sulking.

"that's not fair, nyla!" he tells her in a whining voice.

right after that, you can feel something wet on your neck and a sniffing.

"nyla, baby, why you're crying?" you push her a bit, trying to see her face. her eyes are red and wet, tears rolling down her cheeks nonstop.

"dada are you mad at me?" the little girl asks her father, whose eyes widen in surprise.

"no, no, i could never, love." he rushes to scoop her in his arms, calming her.

"i just wanna spend more time with mama..." her voice is muffled due to her face being pressed to usopp's chest.

"why that? i'll always be with you, huh?" you try to soothe her, but it doesn't, she sobs even more.

"i just have my dada now, mama. you're not there. i wanna spend more time with you because when i get back you won't be there..." you glanced at usopp, who looked even more panicked than you are.

"hey, come to mama..." you call her and nyla is quick to hug you. "don't think about that, okay? i'm here for you right now." you kiss her cheek, wiping her tears away. "and i won't leave by your side until is your time to get back to your life." she looked into your eyes, trying to catch every inch of your face so she can remember. "now let's sleep so tomorrow we can enjoy more!" she smiled.

"night momma, night dada!" nyla pecked yours and her father's cheek, then she closed her eyes, waiting for her time to be kissed.

usopp and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss both of her cheeks, making her giggle happily.

"night, baby girl." usopp sang, caressing her hair.

you closed your eyes, getting yourself comfortable to sleep and usopp stayed there, just like he said. well, is not like he'll get any sleep that night, after all, now he knows he has a daughter with the woman of his dreams, but she's not there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤS A N J I

the moment he saw a little girl looking for her parents, he'd be stunned. he could clearly see some of your traits on her face, just like your smile – the thing he adored the most about you. but he'd be confused asf, because who's that girl? when she finally introduces herself, saying she's the daughter of blackleg sanji and you, he'd faint. has... his dream just come true?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

you were in the kitchen with sanji. since the others have just gone to explore the new island, someone had to watch the ship, and you offered to do that. the cook, not missing an opportunity, said he'd be with you, after all, he couldn't let a delicate flower like you alone at an unknown place, right?

at the moment, sanji is cooking like always. he's making some kind of dessert he refuses to tell what it is.

"sanji, are you sure it doesn't contain anything i'm allergic to?" you ask, trying to peek at some of the ingredients.

"please, my swan, i'm not some kind of inexperienced chef, am i? i would never cook something you're allergic to. now, please, take a seat and be ready, i'm almost done." he says and you do, taking your seat and preparing yourself. sanji turns around, placing the plate with the colourful dessert in front of you. "et voilà! hope you like it!"

"i always appreciate your cooking." and you take a little bite. your eyes roll in pleasure. you're so lucky to have a sous chef in your crew.

sanji just looked at you in awe. he could move a mountain if it meant he could get you smiling.

"excuse me!" an unknown voice shouted from afar. you shoot a glance at the cook who is doing just the same.

"can't believe i'm being interrupted..." you murmur, taking another bite before heading to the deck with sanji following you.

there you were welcomed by a girl. her blue dress was a little dirty and you wondered if she has fallen.

"can we help you?" the blond cook asked her in a soft voice.

"uhmm... yes..." she looked a little hesitant. "i know it may sound a bit... unusual, but... my name is heaven and... i'm your daughter..." she avoided your gaze.

a loud thump was heard and you looked at your side. sanji has just fainted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

caught by some headache, sanji woke up. he was lying on the hammock...? but, i was on the deck...? well, he had some kinda dream. not weird, but the perfect dream! that might be the reason for that headache.

hearing distant voices, he waltzed through the ship, going to the kitchen. there, he could see you and the same girl in his dream!

"what?" he mumbles. heaven notices him and signs to you.

"oh, sanji, dear, come here!" you called him so excited he couldn't refuse – not like he would do it anyways. he always does what you say. "do you remember what heaven said?" you ask carefully.

"uhm... she's our daughter...?" the cook says hesitantly, afraid that what he has heard was just a dream.

"yess!" you squeal.

the girl seemed so amused. getting to know her parents when they're not even together yet. in her timeline, they're so in love with each other and her and... now... her mother seems so clueless or just... don't wanna know about him. after all sanji is a womanizer (for now).

"so it's true! hah! i thought it was just a dream, but is true!" now is his time to squeal and that makes heaven smile.

"it's different to see you like that..." the girl points out. "you know... having your hair hiding your eye."

"uhm..." he clears his throat. "it's just part of my style."

"i like your curly brows, dad!" she smiled and that alone would make sanji smile too, but the way she called him, it warmed his heart.

"okay, sanji, we've got you're excited to know you have a daughter-" you start, but he interrupts.

"with you! the most amazing woman i've ever got to know!" he bats his lashes, smiling widely.

"yeah... with me... but we need to know how to send her back to her timeline. she can't be here. she's not supposed to be here. future you and me might be worried... mainly you." you explain and he quickly gets to hug the girl, who appreciates her father's gesture.

"but she's our daughter! would you do that?!" he sounds so desperate, you may just slap him.

"yeah! but only in the future! it'll just mess up our time! maybe we don't even get together anymore."

"okay, kid! see you in the future." he immediately walks away from her, but quickly runs back, clinging to her. "but we can keep her while we don't find a way to send her back, right?"

"yeah! can i?" she joins her father, pouting and batting her lashes.

"fine! you didn't even need to do all that! what would i do to you if not keep you? throw you at the sea?" you ask in disbelief.

"he's the one most likely to get thrown..." heaven points to sanji.

"hey!"

"let's just wait for the crew and give 'em some good news." you smile, watching sanji and heaven get along well.

@LOLASKY ᡣ 𐭩 actually i've wrote sanji's part with the live action sanji in mind. idk he just looks so more mature... actually the live action characters in general!! but yeah wtv- dividers and template by @/cafekitsune

[jimilter]

the ferrari guy | jjk.

You hire an assistant – and Jeon Jungkook loses his mind. Is that irrational of him? Not when the guy you’ve chosen flirts like a hooker, looks like a runway model and dresses like he’s Giorgio Armani himself. 

pairing: jungkook x reader rating: pg-15 genre: humor | fluff | chaebol!au | fwb!au | ceo!jungkook warnings: swearing + implied sex + jealousy + insecurity + a certain loml charming everyone’s pants off <3 word count: 3 k note:  helloooo fam! i am alive and still writing apparently lmao. jimilter is still a safe space, a wonderful escape from real life and i have no plans of quitting this in near or far future (: no comments on the occasional disappearances tho bec real life has been hectic af! anyways, enjoy this humorous lil drabble from jk's pov (set between part 3 & 4) while i work on the massive angst in part 5! <3

— masterlist | feedback!

↝ the damsel & her knight ⁘ 01 02 03 [3.5] 04 05

On Thursday evening, while leaving work, Jeon Jungkook finds a flashy, bright red Ferrari convertible blocking his car in the parking lot of his office. An office in a building his father owns. 

Needless to say, he is beyond mad.

"Who the heck even drives a Ferrari in our company?" he barks into the phone, scowling when his secretary gives an exasperated sigh.

"President ma'am interviewed some people today, sir. Maybe it's one of the candidate's cars?" 

"What kind of a douchy person comes to a job interview in a convertible?" Jungkook is still scowling at the vermillion vehicle when his brain catches up with the rest of the information Haeri imparted. His mouth dropping open, he raises his free hand up in front of his face, as if to stop time. "Hold on – did you say President ma'am?"

"Uh, yes, si—"

"She interviewed people? Why? What for?" he cuts his secretary off, frowning.

"She is hiring an assistant, sir."

"Wha—why does she need an assistant?"

Haeri is quiet for a while. Then she clears her throat. "I would suggest you to not ask her this, sir."

Jungkook sighs. Haeri is always so straightforward with him. Sometimes a bit too straightforward. But she’s always guiding him around making stupid decisions, and maybe that is why he's had her in his office for nearly two years now. The longest he’s had a secretary ever since he joined the company as the CEO. 

There’s also the fact that Haeri actually has a boyfriend and is immune to all of Jungkook’s charm… Not that he’s actually tried them on her, per se. He’s been otherwise occupied in that department for a while. Very happily and proudly so. 

Clearing his throat, "Yeah, sorry," he grumbles to the girl, turning around to eye the offensive car again. "I'm texting you the license plate number, will you make an announcement on Prez's floor?"

"Sir, I—"

"Good. Thanks, Haeri, you're a gem!"

Even as a security guard comes and removes the obstructing vehicle within minutes and Jungkook is free to leave, his mind doesn’t feel settled. At all. He isn’t sure what it is that irks him about you hiring an assistant, but it is something for sure. Maybe he fears you’d pay him even lesser attention at work than the scant amount you do now. Maybe he thinks you won’t need his help with the integrated Firewall-VPN project anymore. Maybe he… Well, he isn't sure.

But something about this just usettles him. Which is what has him texting you close to midnight, casually dropping his question without offending you with a ‘why’ just like Haeri instructed him to.

↪ hey prez ↪ heard you’re hiring an assistant?

Your reply comes exactly ninety-four seconds later. Yes, he counts.

You heard that in the middle of the night?

He bites his lip, rubbing his reddening cheeks against the cold cotton of his pillow in embarrassment, but doesn’t lose hope because you’re still typing.

I have actually already had the interviews today The guy joins tomorrow You wanna drop by with a welcome gift basket? :)

His glare stays fixed on the little, taunting smile for a long while, before it moves to the word ‘guy’ in your text. You’ve hired a guy assistant.

Jungkook wonders if the bile suddenly roiling in his stomach has any correlation with the explicit images his brain suddenly conjures up of you and a faceless male making out in your office.

God, he’s going insane.

The next morning, Jungkook is barging into Yoongi's office with a frown. "Prez hired an assistant."

Min Yoongi very slowly looks up from his computer screen, gaze wary. "Good morning to you too, Jeon. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

Jungkook ignores the man’s sarcasm and instead drops into one of the couches placed on one side of his office, groaning. “It’s a guy.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Head whipping up faster than the blink of an eye, Jungkook gapes at your Creative Director. “You have heard?”

Yoongi gives him a tired look. “My office is on the same floor as hers, Jeon. I have more than just heard.”

“Have you seen the guy?” he quickly rushes out, wide eyes boring into Yoongi’s disinterested ones.

“Met him. Kid’s jovial and efficient. She’s gonna love him.”

What? Jungkook stalks up to Yoongi’s table with a scowl. “Kid?”

“Oh, he’s probably older than you.”

“Jovial?”

“Yeah, always got a smile on his face; not a word out of his mouth without giggles.”

Giggles? Jungkook's pinky finger twitches in irritation because giggling is supposed to be his thing. How dare you.

“And he's really freaking efficient too, man." Yoongi continues when Jungkook has stayed quiet for too long. "He's got a typing speed of 96 wpm, can speak five languages, is capable of charming every guest with a grin and some sweet words—oh! And he’s quick on his feet! Delivered five coffees on two different floors with the steam still coming out of the cups.” Yoongi has a fond, dreamy look on his face, and if it wasn’t for the wedding band on his finger, Jungkook would have assumed the guy has fallen in love with your new assistant.

Which doesn’t sit well with Jungkook at all. Teeth gritted and fists clenched, he gazes out of the glass doors of Yoongi’s office to yours. 

You aren’t in, yet. Should he pay your oh-so-wonderful assistant a visit before you are?

You’d surely have his head if you catch him threatening the dude – not that he plans on it; he just feels like he might – but it’s a risk he is very much willing to take.

And so, over Yoongi’s protests, Jungkook marches out of the guy’s office and, crossing the long corridor, lands at yours.

There’s an additional table placed perpendicular to yours within the glass cabin and Jungkook wishes he had laser vision so he could incinerate the damn thing in its place. He looks around the office for the guy of the hour, grunting at the small trinkets he finds adorning the new table.

Who keeps a freaking potted plant on a desk? What if it fell off and died?

Jungkook doubts this guy is as efficient as Yoongi talked about him being. He chokes in the middle of the accompanying scoff, though, because his eyes suddenly locate, well, keys.

Sleek, black, no bigger than a matchbox, with a silver, galloping horse engraved on the obviously custom made leather surface. Keys to a Ferrari. What are the odds?

“Ma’am, you’re in earl—oh…”

Jungkook twists on heels at the voice, coming face to face with a guy that honestly doesn’t look much older than him despite what Yoongi said. His eyes are wide and lips rounded, brown hair brushed off his forehead to display the perfect arch to his thick eyebrows. He wears a – Jungkook hates to admit – gorgeously tailored dark brown suit that Jungkook knows to be Armani because he just made the same purchase a week back.

The guy, simply put, doesn't look assistant-material at all. He could be on Vogue's cover with those plump lips and shapely eyes of his. Or perhaps pose for swimsuit commercials with that bubble butt. Or walk the ramp for Armani, Patek Philippe or Chanel, given the brands Jungkook can spot on him.

But he isn't in any of those places – he is here, in your office, as your assistant.

“Good morning, sir!” he suddenly exclaims, and here’s the jollity Yoongi talked about. “You must be Mr. Jeon, the CEO?”

Jungkook gives him a jilted nod, hating the flawless mannerism the guy displays and the accompanying subconscious twitch his lips give in response, and inches back towards the door. “Um, yeah… I was just leaving…”

Your assistant’s smile falls and a concerned look overtakes his face. “But you just got here?”

And something about the innocent pout with which he looks at Jungkook has him rooted to the place. In wonder? Confusion? Shock?

Awe?

He can't freaking tell.

“I can get you some coffee, if you’d like? Everyone’s been telling me I brew a killer espresso!” He flashes a proud smile while Jungkook just helplessly gapes. “I can also get you some snacks? Sandwiches? Cookies? Ooh, would you like some pastries? Our office canteen has some amazing Danishes, would you like one? Ah, your forehead is all misty. Here!”

Before Jungkook can react, the guy is in his face with a tissue, dabbing the sweat away from Jungkook’s arched eyebrows. His smile is blinding, dear God, Jungkook cannot articulate a single word out of the storming confusion in his head. Since when do men have such pouty lips? 

When he steps back, he immediately gestures to a couch. “Make yourself comfortable, sir! May I lower the temperature? You still haven’t said what you need.”

Finally, finally able to collect his thoughts, Jungkook releases a long exhale. 

Who the actual fuck is this guy? A witch? A siren?

Jungkook needs to get out of here and he needs to talk to you.

“Uh, no, thank you, none of that. I, um, I’m good.” Quickly flashing the guy a tight lipped smile, Jungkook slips out of the doors. “I came to see Prez, but she's obviously not here, so… I’ll – I'llcome back later. Good day.”

Even as Jungkook immediately storms out of the office and rushes to the elevators to hurry back to his own floor, your assistant calls out a very happy sounding, “You have the best day, sir!”

Well-mannered, fashionable, charming in a very alarming way. Dude literally had him gaping for a whole minute with his head pretty damn empty. Jungkook's head is never empty.

This guy is so weird and… dangerous. Where did you find him?

And, in fact, why did he come here?

The guy's obviously rich, given all the brands he wears like second skin, so why the heck does he want to work as your assistant? In the same office as you?

Jungkook roughly swallows as the images he conjured last night make a return to his head – this time, with your assistant’s regrettably very handsome face on the previously faceless guy you were making out with. 

He wants to punch a wall.

What he does, instead, is shoot off a text to his secretary, telling her he isn’t feeling well and is going back home. And then another one to you, asking you to pay him a visit tonight. And possibly stay the night because he bought some extra alcohol.

He hasn’t, but the first stop he makes after leaving the office will be to pick up some expensive red wine.

Everytime Jungkook pulls out of you, spent and sweaty and satisfied, after the deed is done, he is left in disbelief. Every single time. Is this really happening? Are you really sleeping with him? Do you actually feel attracted to his body?

He is smart enough to not delude himself into thinking there's more to it, but it doesn't matter because whatever there is between you both is enough to astound him every time the two of you have sex.

Right now, as you sit with your back to him, pulling on his t-shirt over your bare frame – Jungkook's mind is caught onto something a little different than his usual daze of disbelief, though.

And even though he’s risking it by questioning the ‘why’ despite his secretary’s warnings, Jungkook can’t help it when he brings it up. "So… Hiring an assistant. Why so suddenly?"

You hum and give a noncommittal shrug. "I can't be in the office all the time. It's high time I hired one, don’t you think?"

Jungkook doesn’t think so. But he’d definitely be dead meat if he said it out loud. “Sure… What tasks will you give him?”

That earns him a confused look from you over your shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me something, Jeon?”

Wide-eyed, he gapes at you. “What?”

“Did something happen with Haeri? Is that why—”

“Oh, no,” he exhales, beyond relieved, then shakes his head with a smile when you continue to eye him suspiciously. “I just… Well. I’m always making Haeri pick up after me as if she’s a babysitter and not an office worker, you know? So I thought I could use some tips from you…”

You nod at that, turning back around to pull on your panties, and Jungkook breathes easier. He has sold his lie and you’ve bought it. “That’s actually thoughtful and mature of you. Where was this maturity when you had me running after you, though?” you grumble with a playful glare, and he just laughs. 

“It is because of all of that that I’ve finally learnt to be mature, Prez.”

Straightening after having covered your lower half, you inch back on the bed and rest your back against the headboard. “Well. To be fair, he has been running around for tiny errands for the two days he’s been here, so I can’t really lecture you, right now,” you admit. “But I wanted someone in the office for the meetings-season that is about to arrive as we near the launch, you know? Both you and I will be busy with the project. Poor Yoongi will need all the help he can get.”

Jungkook frowns. “Why doesn’t Yoongi hire an assistant then?”

You snort at that and gesture to the bottle of wine on the nightstand. “Why’re you pressed about it? You said you need tips, right?”

“Ah, yes, of course. I just want some tips.” Quickly catching his slip, Jungkook pours you a glass and settles next to you, bare, with the covers thrown across his lap for modesty. “So… will he be accompanying you to meetings, then? Or fill in for you while you’re busy with other stuff?”

“Well, initially he will shadow me for a week or so. And then when I get busy overseeing the launch event and coordinating with the Lims and other investors, he can switch between locations around the city to ensure everything is in order because Yoongi can’t be doing everything, you know?” You take a sip from your glass of wine and shrug a shoulder. “He’s our Creative Director, he needs to hold the fort while everyone runs around like headless chickens.”

Jungkook sips at his wine and musters a thin smile. Because yes, it definitely makes sense why you needed to hire an assistant. Speaking of, Yoongi probably needs one as well. 

Damn, when he used to work as a Software Analyst at a different company, he had no idea the executives of a company had so much to do. It always looks like an easy life looking in from the outside. But as CEO, he has come to learn that if someone in a higher up position makes a mistake, they initiate a dominoes’ fall all the way down.

“You met him, didn’t you?”

His surprised eyes fly to yours at the question. You’re looking at him with a smirk, and Jungkook’s heart gives a thump at how sexy you look. Your question, though, throws him off. "I… How did you—”

You roll your eyes. “He told me you came in to see me and then left. I checked in with Haeri and she said you weren’t feeling well.”

Wow. They both snitched on him. Just great.

And now you're looking at him with barely contained laughter as if you know how jealous he feels. Who is he kidding, of course you know how jealous he feels. You always know this kind of stuff, ugh.

“Don’t be getting insecure, Jeon, my assistant will remain only an assistant.”

He doesn’t know why you say that, but he appreciates it all the same. The twinkle in your eyes expresses playful adoration and the way it makes his heart race kinda scares him.

But then you lean in with an exaggerated kissy face to press a wet smooch on his mouth. When you pull away, he looks at you with a slight pout on his lips. You tilt your head to the side with a squint.

"What?"

"It's… Why did you pick the Ferrari guy?" Jungkook sounds a little whiny, but he can't help it.

You look at him over the rim of your glass, eyebrows nearing your hairline, amusement spilling from your gaze. "Uh, what's wrong with the Ferrari guy?"

"Nothing, of course, that's not what I meant," he tries to amend with a chuckle, but given the way you narrow your eyes at him before putting your glass away to cross your arms, you probably don't buy it. So he speaks on. "It's just that he doesn't look like an assistant, you know?"

"I… don’t actually. What does an assistant look like?"

Are you being purposely difficult or is Jungkook being completely weird? He's not exactly sure how to explain it better, but he's definitely sure that any other way would have been better than what comes out of his mouth next. "I mean, a bit… less… flirty, I guess?"

"What? What the hell did he do to you?"

He groans at your excited expressions. "Dude had me gaping at him for fifteen minutes while he talked about God knows what, because I couldn't focus on his words! I don't even like men like that!"

You give a loud snort and then break into loud peals of laughter. "Well, Jungkook, maybe you do! Maybe you just haven't had your awakening yet!"

"Not funny," he grunts, even as a humored smile slips on to his face at your loud giggles. "What did you say his name was, again?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I didn't."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, my dear Prez, what is your new assistant's name?"

"Park Jimin." Your smile turns goofy and eyes almost dreamy. "Pretty name for a pretty man. Right?"

He rolls his eyes at your suggestive wink, grumbling as he finishes his glass of wine in a large gulp.

You give a small sigh. "He's a nice guy, give him a chance. Heart of gold, or whatever they say."

Jungkook decides that he, for reasons way beyond his supposed homoerotic awakening, absolutely hates Park Jimin's guts. He's going to convince you to fire him. And soon.

© jimilter | 2024

[littlelamy]

the one where he wants you again

s2!rafe x reader

rafe was pissed at himself. was he really that dumb to dump you so quickly? you were his bunny, his princess; if he asked you to jump, you would ask him how high. you were his. he didn't deserve you. but, God, he wanted you so badly. he needed you not only for your perfect body but because you did what others couldn't. he'd never tell himself that he loves you, but he does.

it was almost like an obsession. something about you that made him needy for you. something that made you a guilty pleasure for him. you are the only one who has ever made him think of a future. marriage, babies, anniversaries. all things that meant forever.

but rafe was scared. he was scared that one day you'll leave him. one day you'll listen to others and think his too crazy to be with. so he ended it before you could. now his sitting at this party after 10+ shots thinking of you while your smiling and giggling with a damn pogue right in front of his face.

you made it seem like you were okay but you were feeling just as sad as him. but you'd never say it. you want rafe to learn that there are consequences to actions. it took a lot for you not to jump into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck and kiss all over him, but rafe need a lesson. you are a gift, and he needs to treat you as such.

"y/n you there," pope says snapping his fingers in you face. "are you still thinking about rafe." yes. "if you want him so bad just tell him, maybe he'll change." no, you don't know rafe. you say to yourself.

"he's special to me, pope," you groan, annoyed at how bad you want him. "i can't just jump in his lap and play house with him. he hurt me, pope," you say feeling those familiar eyes watching you. "but, God, he looks so good," you complain looking at rafe out of the side of your eyes.

rafe couldn't take it anymore. he needed his bunny back. "pogue leave," rafe says sneaking up behind you and staring daggers at pope. "kook business so go," rafe rudely commands.

"rafe, stop being disrespectful," you turn around angrily. "his name is pope, and if you need to speak to me, you ask me nicely and take me aside. but you will not disrespect my friend." you say, turning back to pope, who is shocked. "i'm sorry, pope, I'll see you tomorrow at john b's party."

"it's fine, y/n, I'll see you tomorrow," pope says, still shaken up, walking away. you turn back around to an embarrassed rafe, as you gaze upon him his cockiness returns.

"so just because i dumped you doesn't mean, you come to this party looking like that," rafe gestures to your tight, short white dress looking like heaven on earth. "i told you that you can only wear that when you come to parties with me."

"um let me get this straight," you start. "you dumped me two days rafe, two days before my birthday, with some dumb excuse that ward didn't want you to be with me," you say, getting angry all over again. "then i see ward at the country club saying that he loved that rafe decide to date me because i make rafe a better person. so if i want to dress slutty, i can and you cant do any thing about it."

before you storm off, rafe gently grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. rafe was not going to let you leave this time. "don't do it, bunny," rafe whispers in you ear. "i messed up, baby. and i miss you. please don't do this," rafe pleads with his cool minty breath blowing in your ear. "please, princess, please." he's doing it again the begging thing that you love. everything felt so intense.

you fed up with the neediness pull rafe in by his neck and give him a quick but passionate peck on the lips. "rafe, you have to promise me, that you will try to do better," you order him, caressing the back of his neck. "i love you but you can't keep pushing me away," you say looking into his blue eyes.

rafe needs you. rafe wants you and only you. rafe gently nods his head, leaning down to give you another peck on the lips, mumbling an 'i love you.'

"come on, baby, let's go back to tannyhill and take a bath," you say to a love-struck rafe. "then we can talk more tomorrow, okay?" you finish.

"yes, princess, whatever you want," rafe agrees, pulling your hand out of topper's house. even though he messed up, you can't possibly give up on him.

[xxgoldie]

happy little accidents

in which you accidentally send your nudes to lighter, and he definitely feels completely normal about it a/n: pls excuse the random letters that refuse to italicise, tumblr post editor hates me. notes: lighter x fem!reader (reader wears lingerie + one mention of boobs, otherwise pretty gn), mature (MDNI!!!), nudes (duh), mentions of rough sex, mentions of light bondage, kinda accidental voyeurism ig? wc: 1.1k

Y/N: [2 image attachments] what do you think?

A small smile makes its way onto Lighter's face when he saw your name pop up on his phone. Normally, he'd force it away - didn't exactly need people asking who had the Red Scarf grinning at his phone like that - but you'd caught him alone for once, resting on his bed after a long day. So he let himself smile, wondering what you'd sent him this time as he unlocked his phone - maybe pretty photos of the sky, or you were struggling to choose a drink at the convenience store, or you'd impulsively rearranged your room again. Corny as it was, it always made his heart skip a beat that it was him you thought of in those mundane little moments-

His heart skipped a different kind of beat when he opened your message.

Two mirror selfies, one facing forward, one in which you stretched to show your back. In both, you wore nothing but a gorgeous lingerie set, shocking red in lace and satin, a bra and panties and a sinful little garter belt...

In an instant, Lighter's thoughts were spiralling with questions and perverted fantasies. Why on earth were you sending him that? Not that he was complaining - he'd imagined you without your clothes more times than he cared to admit, and this was somehow better than any of his daydreams. Did Knock-Knock send screenshot notifications? Were these photos an invitation? A single word from you and he'd be there - he could fuck you right in front of that mirror, watch the bounce of your pretty ass and the way he'd make your eyes roll at the same time. A quick search told him that no, Knock-Knock didn't send screenshot notifications. Two clicks and the images were in his camera roll, quick future access to his personal slice of heaven. Shit, the red of that lingerie was basically the same shade as his scarf. Had you done that on purpose? You'd look so good in just that set and the scarf around your neck. Or he could tie it around your wrists, keep your hands attached to the bed as he pounded you into the mattress. Fuck, he should probably respond. What was he meant to say? Should he tell you what he was thinking about? That he was imagining taking you from behind, those crimson panties pulled to the side, no way he'd take them off when you'd dressed up so pretty for him-

Y/N: HOLY SHIT WRONG PERSON I'M SO SORRY

Okay. Maybe not for him.

For the second time in as many minutes, you sent Lighter's thoughts spiralling. Who did you intend to send those photos to if not him? Not that he expected you to send him raunchy photos, but he didn't think you were seeing anyone. He liked to think you'd have told him, even if it wasn't serious. Had he overestimated how close you were? Or was there some other reason - did you not think he'd approve? Well, not that Lighter would truly approve of any partner that wasn't himself, but you didn't know that. As long as they treated you well, he would be happy for you. Did they not treat you well? The mere thought had him clenching his fists with the sudden desire to throttle someone. And the tent in his pants wasn't exactly helping him clear his head, especially when the beautiful cause for it was still on his screen. And the intended recipient of those photos was the nameless, faceless mystery he was in the mood to throttle.

Crap. He still hadn't responded to you. You probably thought he'd left you on read.

Y/N: i meant to ask lucy for advice on the set ur names are next to each other i'm so sorry again, u did not need to see that

Right. Lucy often gave you advice on clothes - on the times you joined him in the city, you were constantly texting her pictures of clothes you saw in shop windows, wondering if you should buy them. And it made sense - the fact he got a full view of your body between the two photos was just a heavenly side effect of you trying to show both sides of the set. This didn't mean there wasn't someone else in mind with the lingerie, but at least you hadn't meant to send those photos to some asshole who you couldn't even tell him about.

But, more pressingly, he still had to respond. You'd sent Lighter six messages now, and he'd opened them immediately and not said anything the whole time. Not even typing. Just staring at the photos of your boobs like the lovestruck, horny idiot he was. He told himself to get a grip.

He had to be chill about it. He could tell you were freaking out a little on the other end of the phone - he just had to let you know it was okay, that you hadn't made anything weird. Without any hints to the fact he was picturing every possible dirty scenario that involved you, him and that pretty lace.

you're all good, don't stress about it

Shit. That came out way too dismissive. He should have addressed the situation more. Or would that be weird? Lighter was struck by the realisation that, for maybe the first time ever, he had no idea what to say to you. Words always flowed with you, even when you had his heart thumping in his chest; conversation had always been as easy as breathing. Though, to be totally fair, this whole situation was making breathing a bit more difficult too.

Y/N: thank u T^T this is so embarrassing fr

The message had served its purpose, at least. The two of you could move on with your lives. But there was still that itch he couldn't scratch; the guilt of enjoying the accident so much without you knowing, coupled with a desperate feeling that an opportunity was passing him by.

Lighter's fingers were flying across the keyboard in an instant, lurid compliments backspaced and overcorrected with praise that was far too chaste for the situation, then back in the other direction. He couldn't exactly tell you that he was thinking about fucking you so hard you'd leave scratches down his back the same beautiful scarlet as your bra, but calling pictures like that 'cute' would probably be insulting. The respectful balance he was looking for seemed just out of reach.

Eventually, he settled on something, finger hovering over the send button a little too long until he muttered a quick "fuck it", sending the message before the inevitable panic could set in.

if it's not weird to say, you look gorgeous in it

bonus!!

lighter's the kind of guy to send a risky text and immediately throw his phone into a river bc he got nervous abt how you'd respond

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 2

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

word count: 2.7k

warnings: we meet jk's friends and tae makes his first appearance (we'll be seeing a lot more of him in future), oc is sick with a cold, jk is a simp and drops everything to make her feel better, lots of fluff, nothing explicit in this one, we find out some more of oc's rules, SATC mentioned, some marvel talk, talk of jk having a nice ass, mostly just lots of soft feels in this one <3

author's note: i'm so happy to see the amount of love part 1 got !!! part 2 is a bit shorter, but i think it's important to see their dynamic outside of the whole fwb thing. i'm aiming for the upcoming parts to be longer, i promise. i hope you enjoy all the feels in this one, and don't be shy to send me your feedback 🫶🏻

find tmhtl masterlist here

Jungkook sits at a table in a rather fancy restaurant, half-listening to his friends as they joke about something over dinner. They've been meaning to get together for a while but they've all been so busy with work and their personal lives that it just never worked out until tonight. Well, it worked out tonight because Taehyung practically forced everyone to come.

"Yo, earth to Jungkook."

He looks over at Jimin with raised eyebrows, realizing he was caught staring at his phone in his lap. He knows he should be paying attention to the conversation happening around him, and he knows that it's rude to be on his phone while he's in company, but he hasn't heard from you all day and usually you would've exchanged words (or funny memes) by now.

It's not that he MUST speak to you all day, every day to survive, but it just happens. If he sees a funny video of a cat on TikTok, he sends it to you. If you forgot how to do something on Excel, you text him and he replies within two minutes to explain how to do it. Sometimes he even goes through the trouble of doing it himself, screen recording it and sending it to you to give you a step-by-step guide. That's just how it goes with the two of you.

"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I was just asking if there's a special someone in your life," Jimin says with a little grin, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

"Actually, what he asked was if you're still on track to die alone," Namjoon quips, Jimin waving him off with a little "eh, same thing".

Jungkook rolls his eyes, flatly denying any romantic relations. It's not like he's lying. He just can't say that he might have started developing feelings for the woman he's casually sleeping with, so he just settles on, "Naah, I'm too busy with work." It's easier.

They know their friend is a terrible liar, but they also know that he would tell them if he really wanted to, so they don't pry. They've heard your name once or twice in passing, a little comment here and there like '___ likes that movie' or '___ uses this perfume'. As far as they know, you're his work friend. That's it. Even Taehyung doesn't know much about you, and he works at the same university as an English Literature lecturer, which brings us to rule #2.

Rule #2: It stays between us. It's just less complicated if less people know, and Jungkook knows that if his friends knew about it, they'd be pestering him about you all night and he doesn't need that right now, especially when his eyes drift back down to his phone and there's still no text from you.

You're in bed, surrounded by snotty tissues and a sleeping Miso, who really couldn't care less that you just underwent a violent coughing fit. You're about to doze off, when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You check the notification, and when you see who it's from, you swear you feel your heart rate rise, but maybe it's just from all the coughing.

prof jeon |7:50pm]: hey, you. prof jeon 17:50pm]: haven't heard from you all day... prof jeon [7:51pm]: are you mad at me bc i said sex in the city was boring??? 👀😭😭

You [7:51pm]: first of all, it's sex AND the city 💀 You [7:52pm]: and it's not boring, you're just a nerd who can't watch anything other than marvel

He laughs, knowing he should've expected that response. Your next message comes through shortly after.

You [7:53pm]: sorry for the radio silence You [7:53pm]: i have a nasty cold 😵‍💫 You [7:53pm]: feel like i was hit by a bus You [7:53pm]: took some cough drops and slept for most of the day

He really shouldn't feel the need to immediately rush to your aid, but he does.

prof jeon [7:53pm]: want me to come over?

You [7:54pm]: you don't have to do that, kook You [7:54pm]: i don't wanna get my germs all over you 😕

prof jeon [7:54pm]: don't be silly   prof jeon [7:54pm]: i’ve had your bodily fluids on me before, who cares about a little snot 😂😂😂   prof jeon [7:55pm]: i can be there in a little bit 

You [7:56pm]: you're gross 🙄 You [7:56pm]: and really nice

prof jeon [7:56pm]: see you in a bit x

He excuses himself from dinner with the excuse of a family emergency and promises his friends to hang out again soon. He grabs his coat and heads out to his car, making a stop at your favourite Thai restaurant for some pho before driving over to your place.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and dragged yourself back to bed as soon as he texted you to let you know he's on his way up. You hear the door open and in walks Jungkook, looking very handsome you might add.

"You're dressed awfully fancy to take care of my cold," you tease with a little smile, your eyes drifting down to the plastic bag in his hand, a bag you know all too well due to countless trips to that specific Thai restaurant. "And you brought food?"

He smiles as he removes his coat and walks over to the side of your bed, placing the pho on your nightstand before sitting down on the edge of the bed, clearly not bothered by the array of tissues scattered around the duvet. Miso sees him and gets up from her spot on the bed, sauntering off to the living room, almost as if she knows her mom is about to get folded like a pretzel again. But Jungkook's not here for that tonight.

"I was actually out at dinner with some friends when I texted you. And I thought you might've been too lazy to get up and actually eat dinner, so I brought soup."

The thought of him dropping his plans with his friends just to come over and take care of you fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Maybe it's just your high temperature. Maybe it's the fact that he's just so kind to you. Whatever the reason may be, you're too sick and weak to fight the soft smile tugging at your lips.

"Thank you, Jungkook."

"Don't thank me. I just didn't want you to drown in your own mucus."

Your laugh makes his heart feel funny, even if it barely managed to escape your sore throat.

He opens the lid of the steaming hot pho and holds a spoonful to your lips. If you were your usual healthy self, you would've told him that you're fully capable of feeding yourself, but you're sick and vulnerable and he has that soft look in his eyes, so you let him feed you the soup. It's warm and a little spicy, and it instantly makes you feel better as it slides down your throat. It's just that good. That, and the fact that he bought it for you and drove all this way to feed it to you.

He makes sure you take any necessary medication and even helps you flip over to lay on your stomach so that he can rub some VapoRub on your back, his hands giving you the comfort you didn't know you so desperately needed.

You aren't used to being taken care of by such a gentle man. He blows on your soup for you so that you don't burn your tongue. He wets a cloth with cold water and lays it on your forehead to bring down your temperature. He touches you like you're some delicate porcelain that could break at any moment. When he lays down with you and runs his fingers through your hair, you don't fight it. When he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, you don't protest like you normally would because rule #3 is no kissing outside of sex but you don't even care right now. You let him take care of you when you normally wouldn't. You allow yourself to be taken care of because it feels too good to overthink.

Jungkook feels a bit selfish for relishing in your current state because it allows him to care for you in your time of need. He would do it for any of his friends because that's the type of person he is, but this is different. This is you, and he would drive for hours and hours to get to you if you ever needed him. He would put everything on hold to be there for you. Hell, he would run into a burning building if you were in there. Because it's you.

He props his head up on his elbow and looks down at you, taking in your fevery flushed cheeks, your heavy-lidded eyes, your stuffy nose, and he thinks that no other woman will ever be as beautiful to him as you. He's not Taehyung. He doesn't teach literature and he doesn't have the best way with words, but he could spend hours writing poetry about the sound of your laugh or how animated you get when you're really passionate about something. He could sit and watch paint dry all day if you sat by his side and did it with him.

Jungkook takes the tv remote from the nightstand to turn on Sex and The City, clicking on a random episode from season 6 and getting comfortable next to you.

"What happened to Sex and The City being boring, hm?" you chuckle, giving him a teasingly pointed look.

"What, you want me to turn it off?"

"No, I just thought you didn't like it."

"But you like it."

You turn your attention back to the tv as a smile threatens to break out on your face, your head turned so that he doesn't see how much that simple response affected you.

He barely remembers the characters' names or much of the plot, but you enjoy the show, so he watches it with you, making comments here and there and even asking questions just so he can listen to your voice as you explain why Carrie Bradshaw does what she does. He mentally pats himself on the back for getting through a good handful of episodes before inevitably getting bored.

When you get up to go to the bathroom, he just can't help himself and turns on one of the Avengers movies, offering you a sheepish grin when you come back and see what's on your tv.

You roll your eyes and get back in bed, watching Iron Man perform a monologue for the millionth time. "Captain America's better."

He gives you a look like you just killed his dog or something, and you already know what's coming.

"Are you insane?! Iron Man is so obviously the best Avenger, ___."

"He doesn't look like Captain America, though."

"He doesn't have to," he scoffs, looking back at the tv. "He's got that whole rich CEO thing going for him. Plus, he's like, a genius."

"Nerds defending nerds, I guess," you tease with a faint smile.

He grins, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Are you saying I'm like Iron Man? Because if you are, that's a huge compliment."

"Iron Man's a bit more of a bad boy," you chuckle, narrowing your eyes at him as you try to think of who he resembles in the Avengers. "You're more...boy next door, kinda like Spider Man."

"Wha- excuse me, I can be a bad boy too if I want," he quips, trying to sound offended, but when you mention Spider Man it kinda makes up for it. "I guess I'll take Spider Man. I do have a nice ass."

You laugh, giving him a puzzled look. "Who said anything about Spider Man's ass?"

"He's like, known for having a great ass. Have you seen him in his suit?"

"So, that's it? That's why you'd make a good superhero? Because you have a nice ass?"

"Well...not just my ass. I'd make a great superhero because...y'know...great power, great responsibility and all that other stuff."

You scoff, shrugging like you can't argue with that.

He's quiet for a while, a full-blown fight scene playing out on the tv, his mind starting to wander a bit.

"You'd be Black Widow. You've got that badass, independent woman vibe," he murmurs, looking over at you with a soft smile.

"You think so?"

"Oh yeah. You're smart, confident, you don't take crap from anyone. Plus, you'd look really hot in the tight outfit." He just can't help himself.

You roll your eyes, softly swatting his bicep. "Of course that's what you think of."

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, feigning innocence. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a man, I like what I like."

And I like you. He can't say it out loud, but acknowledging it is enough for now, and when the cough syrup starts taking effect and your eyes slowly start to droop, he feels content with just having your head on his chest.

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Taehyung, and your eyes are barely open when they land on the screen. You didn't even mean to look, it was kinda just an instinctive thing, but you're not interested in his private texts from his friends. What catches your eye is the photo on his lock screen. It's a photo of the two of you from a year ago, both of you making silly faces at the camera. It's a cute photo. If anyone else were to see it, they'd think you're a couple.

“I didn't know that’s your lock screen,” you mumble, your voice a lot sleepier than it was an hour ago.

“Are you snooping?” he teases with a little scoff.

“I didn't mean to look, your phone is kinda in my face from this angle,” you murmur through a soft chuckle, looking down at the photo.

“I like this photo of us.” He smiles when you tap the screen after it goes black, wanting to get another look.

“Coulda used one that I actually look pretty in,” you murmur jokingly, and as the cough syrup drains the last of your consciousness, the last thing you hear is a soft, “But you’re always pretty, ___.”

The next morning, you wake up feeling a little bit disorientated after taking all that cold medicine, blinking a few times to clear your vision. You slowly sit up in bed and check your phone, seeing that it's 10am. You almost think you overslept for work, but you realize it's Sunday. You think back to the night before, the way Jungkook came over and fed you soup, the way he gently put VapoRub on your back and made sure you were well taken care of. You turn your head to find Miso in the spot that Jungkook was in last night, and you would feel disappointed that he’s not there anymore if Miso weren't so damn cute. It's not like you expected him to still be here this morning. After all, staying the night is another boundary you don't cross, and he respects that, which explains why he left a little while after you fell asleep.

You feel that fuzzy feeling in your chest again when you take a better look at what's on your nightstand. Your water bottle stands tall, which Jungkook filled before he left last night, along with a little note from one of the notebooks on your desk.

The note says, 'Hope you're feeling a bit better. Get lots of rest and drink your fluids. Don't worry about falling asleep, Miso made sure I saw myself out. Hope to see you at work tomorrow xx'

You read the note again, and then again. It's simple but thoughtful. He didn't have to write a note. He didn't have to come over last night to tend to your illness, but he did, and you aren't surprised because he's him. That's just what he does.

You think about last night until you have to consciously stop yourself from smiling so much because your cheeks feel a bit stiff. You grab your phone from the nightstand and scroll to his contact, your fingers quickly sliding across the keyboard.

You [10:23am]: thank you for coming over last night, kook You [10:23am]: i owe you fr

prof jeon [10:25am]: you really don't 🙄 prof jeon [10:25am]: i just wanted to be there for you prof jeon [10:26am]: it's what spider man would've done 👀

You [10:26am]: 👁️👄👁️ You [10:26am]: nerd

< Part 1 || Part 3 >

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Remember Me

It's finally here!!! I really did not expect this lil idea to blossom into 5.4k words but here it is. Enjoy!

Summary: The arcane gives you the second chance you never knew you were looking for

The last thing you remember is the swirling myriad of colours that is the arcane and suddenly you're in a world that's both familiar and not quite familiar at the same time. Zaun, or what you think it Zaun, looks…the same yet different, the colours are brighter than you remember, the air feels easier to breathe and the people look happier.

Confused, you poke around for information. It's surprisingly easy to gather everything you need to know, the people are more relaxed, their guard is down and their lips are loose. The only thing left now is to find a place to spend the night, and it's not hard to find a simple boarding room after swiping a couple of loose change from some wealthy merchants.

In your little rented room, you sit on the bed, revising the events of the day. Turns out this city really is Zaun — a Zaun that is independent and co-exists with Piltover. This Zaun came about because of Vander and Silco's efforts, you remember tearing up when you heard that, much to the concern of the civilian you were asking but you had waved their concern away, swallowing the emotions that threatened to choke you. Silco has become a councilor representing Zaun and is often away whilst Vander still runs The Last Drop, and you are tempted to run straight there but you hold yourself back. You can't rush this, there's still too much you don't know yet, and tampering with the events of what you believe is an alternate universe might just throw everything in jeopardy.

With a sigh, you flop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Such comfort is a rare find in the Zaun you know, and no one is this easy to steal from. You wonder what caused this version of Silco and Vander to make up, wonder what went down differently, and if Silco is happier in this universe than your own.

You toy with the pendant that sits around your neck, the last thing you have to remember the man you love by, and feel a tear slide down your cheek. You miss him still, your heart aching for one last moment to spend with him but you know it will never happen. You had buried him in the river with Jinx, watching as his cold lifeless body sank into its murky depths, numbly sitting on the docks afterwards, curled up with your knees to your chest. Sevika had found you in that fetal position and brought you to Silco's office, awkwardly comforting you with her usual pats to the back that feels more like a slap.

That night, you fall asleep with thoughts of Silco filling your head. The bed feels cold without him by your side, but tiredness quickly wins and you slip into dreamland, dreaming of a future with him.

The next day, you slip into The Last Drop, unable to hold yourself back anymore. You order your usual drink, tugging at the hood around your head as Vander approaches, a glass in hand.

"You're new around here," he observes, setting the glass down in front of you.

"Just visiting," you say curtly, not wanting to let anything slip.

"Still, you look rather familiar. Have I seen you before?" He queries, looking you over.

"No," you say a little too quickly before clearing your throat, taking a sip of your drink. "Sorry, I don't believe we've met. I'm pretty sure I'd remember if I've met the Vander."

He laughs, a deep guffaw that you've missed dearly. "Flattery won't get you a discounted drink."

"But perhaps it will get me a free drink?" You smile, raising your now empty glass.

He chuckles, refilling your glass, "you've got to do better than that then."

Your chest fills with a warmth you haven't felt since…you've forgotten how long ago it was, it feels like eternity since you last heard Vander speak to you with gentleness. Your hand moves to rest on Vander's but fortunately you quickly catch yourself and pretend like you're reaching out for your glass. You grip your glass tightly, staring at the liquid inside and swallow the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you.

That's when something catches your eye — a tattoo you've never seen before on Vander's hand. VI is etched into his skin, reminiscent of a tattoo etched into another person's skin in your universe. Vi.

"That tattoo on your hand —" You blurt out, and then internally curse yourself for it. Vander turns around, raising the hand with the tattoo and smiles a sad smile.

"My daughter. Vi."

"Oh…sorry about that." You shift in your seat. So Vi was dead in this universe, that was news. Was Jinx alive? You'd heard snippets of Ekko, the boy genius, as you walked the streets, so you knew that he was alive here. Was Sevika alive?

"It's alright." Vander waves it off, causing something else to catch your eye — a dove tattoo on the inside of his wrist. A dove?

"And the dove?"

"A dear friend," Vander says softly. "Y/N."

Wait what?

You nearly choke on your drink, biting the glass hard. You were dead in this universe? How? When? Was Silco coping alright? Was Silco —

The sound of The Last Drop's doors swinging open snap you out of your thoughts. A familiar figure walks in, blue hair tied into twin buns with a streak of pink in one of them.

Jinx?

"Powder!" Vander calls, a huge smile on his face. Powder smiles back, running over to hug him. You take a sip of your drink, watching as the two embrace each other, then Powder goes to serve drinks to the customers, happily skipping away. She's nothing like Jinx, she doesn't have the same haunted eyes that your adoptive daughter does, but there's still a spark of pain and sorrow in her eyes.

She did lose her sister, after all.

You watch a little more, taking your time with your drink until your glass finally runs dry and you place the money on the table, slipping out of the bar, but not before catching a glimpse of someone else familiar.

Ekko.

The two of you walk past each other, gazes meeting for just a split second before you go your separate ways, you to your room and he to The Last Drop. The alcohol sits in your stomach, warm as you lie on the bed, your mind processing everything that had happened today.

Vander not only has the scar Silco gave him in the river, but a tattoo in memory of Vi decorates his hand, and Jinx is…Powder. You vaguely remember the name, suggested by Silco as he drunkenly rambled about his favourite things, annoyed that Vander was the only one who could suggest names for Felicia's child. To think she really did use that name, you never found out what she named Jinx and it made your tear up. Felicia never stopped thinking of Silco as a friend, even as the trio drifted apart, torn away from each other by their responsibilities and dreams, and chose to name her second child according to Silco's drunken suggestion. Most of all, you're dead. You.

You laugh, choking back the tears that are beginning to spring into your eyes. Was this universe's Silco mourning your death the same way you mourned your universe's Silco? Had he at least gotten the chance to propose to you, ask you out, go on a date with you, sit on the rooftop and dream about nothing as you both look over the city you call your home?

You sorely miss the past, when you knew you could look forward to meeting together at The Last Drop, the laughter that always rang in the empty bar, the music that filled the air, Felicia dancing the night away, sometimes dragging you into it, Vander ruffling your hair and flicking Silco in the forehead, Silco grumbling about the volume and his inability to concentrate on his work. All the while you sat there, basking in their presence, allowing yourself to be dragged into whatever mess they created that night.

Now all three of them are dead, and only you are left to carry on the memory, but you can barely remember the feeling of those times. The memories are clouded and you can only see bits and pieces of them. You buried them long ago, ever since you turned your back on Vander and chose to follow Silco but now they resurface, pulled upwards by the sight of a happy Vander and the name 'Powder'.

There's a knock on your door. Wiping your tears away, you go to answer it, unsurprised that Ekko is standing there but you didn't expect Heimerdinger to also be there. Then again you should have expected it, Ekko is a resourceful one and upon coming to this alternate universe he would have searched for allies — you, Heimerdinger and Jayce.

"May we come in?" The Yordle asks, looking up at you.

"Sure," you step aside, letting them in and close the door before going to sit on your bed. "So what's the occasion?"

"The fact that we're in what looks like an alternate reality?" Ekko snorts, taking a seat on the chair next to Heimerdinger.

You roll your eyes, "wow what a discovery, wanna tell me how you discovered that?"

"Now now, students. Don't fight," Heimerdinger waves his hands, jumping between the both of you. "Ekko here has an idea of how to return us to our universe, tell them my boy."

"Hold on, where's Jayce?" You frown. "Didn't he get transported into this universe as well?"

"We have been unable to find him, I'm afraid. I doubt he's in this universe, or I would have seen him in Piltover." Heimerdinger shakes his head.

"Anyways, the plan is we're going to recreate the explosion that brought us into this universe in the first place, and hopefully it brings us back instead of throwing us into yet another universe." Ekko sighs. "I managed to find a hextech crystal's pieces and pieced it back together. All that's left is to recreate the very explosion but that's taking a while."

"Oh is the task too much for the boy wonder?" Your sass is overflowing today for some reason.

"How about you try pulling your weight and help out?" Ekko snaps back and you laugh.

"Well sorry for only finding out about your plan now."

Heimerdinger only sighs and waits until the both of you decide it's enough sass for the day before taking his leave with Ekko. You tag along, curious about the progress the two have made so far and impressed that Ekko has a whole lab to himself, although you'll never admit it to his face.

Over the next few days, you help Heimerdinger and Ekko however you can while finding time to explore Zaun further. The people here are livelier and happier, the streets are brighter, filled with Zaunites and Piltovians alike. Children frolic about without worry, the air is filled with booming voices instead of hushed whispers. The Bridge of Progress is bustling with activity — vendors peddling their wares, friends leaning against the railing, chatting the day away, the crowd flows both ways, into Piltover and into Zaun. Food is plentiful here, and people have enough money to spend that they also treat themselves frequently, something you could only dream of.

It's nothing like the Zaun you call your home and a part of you misses its dark corners, the sinister purple glow of Shimmer, the darting gazes as people flicked in and out of sight. It was what you grew up around, after all, but there's another part of you that wishes your Zaun was like this universe's Zaun. It's beautiful, peaceful, just the way your Vander had envisioned Zaun to become. Your Silco would come to appreciate the serenity, you think, a reward after the hard fought battle for independence.

Ekko recruits Powder along the way and you try to not show up whenever she's around, afraid that she'll recognise you. If Vander and her were this close, who was to say this universe's you wasn't as well?

"I've noticed that you've been avoiding young Powder lately, may I ask why?" Heimerdinger comes over to you a few days later.

"You just did." You frown, still staring at the runes in front of you. He stares at you, unimpressed. Sighing, you finally look at him. "Turns out I'm dead in this universe, alright? I don't want to risk being recognised, and considering how close I was with Jinx, Powder will probably recognise me."

"I see. Hmm, it could possibly mess up this universe's timeline, perhaps it is safer indeed for you to avoid being recognised." The Yordle hums. "I'll let you know when the young lady drops by."

"Thanks." You smile slightly, a flickering flame of warmth sparking in your chest. Heimerdinger smiles back before strutting off to continue his work. Maybe forming new relationships isn't so bad, not if it can recreate that warmth you had with Silco and Jinx.

The Yordle remains true to his word, helping you find excuses to leave the room before Powder shows up, and if Ekko is supicious about your behaviour he says nothing. With the aid of an additional technological genius, Ekko not only almost recreates the event that sent you all here in the first place but also discovers a way to turn back time — albeit only for four seconds. Still, it's a breakthrough no one's ever dreamed of, and is a highly useful invention for a variety of things.

A few days later, you learn about a party for the Young Innovator's Competition that's coming up, held at The Last Drop and Heimerdinger encourages both you and Ekko to attend it.

"And what's the point of a device like this if you don't enjoy the time you have?" The Yordle meets yours and Ekko's gaze, removing his goggles when he sees the look of concern on your face.

"It's been a while since you've last allowed yourself to enjoy anything, seize the moment while you still can." He places a hand on your shoulder. "Leave all your worries behind just for tonight."

You sigh, but can't deny the truth in his words. Maybe it's alright to just let your hair down just for tonight, you haven't been able to do so ever since Silco died and Zaun fell apart. You're tired, and a respite no matter how brief is more than welcome.

On the night of the party, Ekko walks in the front door while you slip in via the back, a hood thrown over your head. You keep to the shadows, watching the others while taking sips from a glass you had taken from Vander who had recognised you from your previous visit. Nibbling on a pastry, you lean against the wall, gaze flicking over all those in attendance. You recognise some of them from their grown up selves, creating an aching yearning for your home in this strange world and you quickly look for Ekko, desperate to rid yourself of sadness on this celebratory night.

You find the boy wonder sitting at the bar counter, talking with Vander and Benzo when suddenly yet another familiar figure enters your view — Silco.

Your body moves forwards on its own, taking a step towards the face you've missed dearly, heart pounding in your chest. He's here, back from Piltover which you didn't have time to scour for a glimpse of him and you feel your emotions begin to clog up your throat. Swallowing, you stop yourself and turn back to your wall, this time facing it as you struggle to regain control. You feel a tear slip out anyways and sniff, biting your lip.

He says something and you feel butterflies flutter in your stomach as they always did before. You may not be watching their conversation but you'd recognise your lover's voice anywhere. Your fingernails dig into your skin and you will yourself to remain still, to ignore the urge that calls for you to go over to him, hold him, kiss him, say all the things you never got to say. You want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him, hold him tightly as you cry into his shoulder but you can't. This is not your Silco, and you are not his Y/N. Your Silco is gone forever, and so is his Y/N, that is the reality you both have to accept.

The man you love is gone. you've laid him in the river he loved so much with Jinx, that you know. You'll never be able to touch him again, feel his warmth, lace your fingers together with his, sleep with the last thing you see being his face and wake up seeing his face first thing in the morning, but it's hard not to think about what could have been when a version of him is standing right in front of you.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you pull your cloak around you tighter, willing away the chill that has worked its way into your heart. You can't do this, you can't bear to see him again and not cradle his face in your hands, not press your forehead against his, breathing in his cigar-laced scent. Gritting your teeth, you find another corner to disappear into, putting as much distance between this universe's Silco and you. Slumping against the wall, you slide downwards onto the floor, closing your eyes as you focus on your breathing.

You've got this. You can hold yourself together. You're stronger than this.

"Need a drink?" A voice asks. You nod, eyes still closed and feel a glass pressed into your palm. Your lips part, ready to thank the mysterious stranger but when your eyes open, the room has gone dark and the stranger is nowhere to be found. Balloons explode, causing streamers to fall from the ceiling and the floor goes wild. Music comes to life, the crowd parting for someone. You quickly get to your feet, careful not to spill any of your drink and shrink closer to the wall, gaze fixed on the one who has stolen everyone's attention.

Powder. Jinx.

Tugging your hood around your head tighter, you look away, hoping that she doesn't catch a glimpse of your face but it's fine, she only has eyes for one person tonight. You take another sip from your glass, feeling the liquid burn as it slides down your throat. You've been having one too many drinks tonight, and you blame this universe's Silco as well as Vander for that. Mostly Silco.

You let out a shaky sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Maybe you should stop drinking for today, going back to the lab drunk is not a good idea. You turn your attention to the dance floor that's being taken over by couples swaying to the beat, smiles and laughter all around. Ekko's fixated on his dance with Powder and you smile slightly, happy that he's found something in this whole mess.

Good for him, you think to yourself. He needed that, a breath of fresh air, a moment to just…be a boy.

You set your now empty glass on the counter, finding yourself leaning against it like you always did back then and quickly stand upright. You're letting your guard down too much, probably because of the alcohol. Shaking your head, you take a deep breath to recenter yourself. Focus.

The party slowly turns into a daze, lights filling your vision and music filling your ears. Bodies spin across the dance floor, you've lost track of where everyone is and all you know is that this party is starting to feel like forever. It's not a particularly bad thing, moments like this are nice, but there's a nagging feeling in the back of your head that makes you antsy and this party isn't doing it any favours.

"May I have a dance?" A voice sounds from beside you. Glancing in the direction from which the voice came, a familiar silhouette enters your view.

Silco.

You stare at him, then stare at his outstretched hand, then back up at him. Your mind is spinning, your heart leaping to your throat and your chest tightens. He peers at you with his one good sea foam coloured eye and you notice the difference between this Silco and yours.

His dead eye isn't the menacing black and orange you've come to love, it's a pale colour, white and yellow perhaps and his scar is openly on display in public. The edges of his face are softer, and gone is the coldness in his gaze, replaced by a warmth that's different from the one he always reserved for you. Yet, there's a pain hidden behind it, the mark of loss that you've come to know so well.

"I —" Words finally unclog themselves from your throat. "I can't dance. I don't know how to."

"It's quite alright. I can lead, following shouldn't be too hard." He smiles gently at you, hand still outstretched. "Give yourself a chance, you may find that you quite enjoy it."

You gaze deep into his eye, hesitating. You shouldn't, revealing your identity may shake the very foundation of this universe and you've kept your interactions with those you know to a minimum for this very reason. Yet, yet something stirs within you, nudging your hand forward until it touches his and your resolve dissolves completely. You let him lead you onto the dance floor, feeling the warmth flood from his hand into yours, feeling your palms lock as though they were made for each other, feeling like you're back there again, when everything was alright because you knew you had Vander, Silco and Felicia to lean on. Tears spring to your eyes, blurring your vision but you let yourself go, let Silco lead, trust that he won't let you fall.

He spins you around, guiding your movements through little nudges with his feet and tugs on your hands. You feel your body glide across the floor, his touches leaving ghostly imprints on your skin. When he pulls you into his chest, you stumble, crashing into him but he continues like nothing happened, an arm around your waist. He smells less of cigars and more like perfume, the kind associated with rich Piltovian snobs but you suppose it's only fair since he is a politician. Only he's not a snob, knowing your Silco.

You bask in the moment, dancing with the man you love, the man you buried, capturing it all and saving every second of it in your mind. It feels surreal, the second chance you never anticipated, but you can only watch as it passes you by, unable to say all the things you never got to. There's so much you want to say, so much you want to do, but you know you can't. This is not your Silco, this is not your universe, your regrets cannot be undone, not truly at least. You have to live with them, that is the burden you carry amid many others.

When your feet tire, Silco guides you back to your usual spot at the bar counter and orders two drinks — scotch and your favourite. He looks at you, your fingers still intertwined and brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"I know you," he says without missing a beat. "It's you, isn't it? Y/N."

"You're confusing me for someone else." You wave him off with a nervous chuckle, letting go of his hand to scratch the back of your neck.

"And that right there is a nervous habit of yours." Silco nods at Vander in thanks and slides your glass towards you. "That's your favourite drink, isn't it?"

"You — you're mistaken." You shake your head. "I'm not Y/N."

"You're right." He takes a sip from his own glass. "You're not. You're not the Y/N I know, the same yet different. Care to explain?"

You take a particularly huge gulp of your drink, and immediately regret it with the way it burns a path down your throat into your stomach. Coughing, you set the glass back down, gasping for breath. Silco's brow furrows and he reaches over, rubbing your back.

"Maybe you should lay off the alcohol for the rest of the day," he murmurs, concern lacing his voice.

"Don't got much left til the next day." You reach for the glass, fingertips just brushing it but a slender hand moves it out of your reach.

"Still, it's best not to." His voice is smooth, velvety, music to your ears, accompanied by his gentle touch and you feel yourself growing weak.

"Can we — can we talk somewhere private?" You whisper, throat clogging up again.

"Of course." He slips his hand into yours. "Lead the way."

Squeezing his hand tightly, you bring him to the rooftop of The Last Drop — the place you and Silco always went to for some peace and quiet. Silco's eye widens slightly when he realises where you're bringing him to, and then a sad smile forms on his face.

Every step towards the rooftop causes your heart to ache even more, memories of your time spent hopelessly in love flooding back into your head. All the times where the both of you just lay there doing nothing, simply enjoying each other's presence, the stolen kisses, the times where he tried coaxing you into dancing with him. You remember when he had carried you from the rooftop, drunk and rambling, all the way to the spare bed, tucked you in and spent the rest of the night at your side. You remember when he had held you in his arms right here, gently rubbing your back as you cried into his shoulder, mourning the death of your best friend. You remember the quiet whispers of promises made, hearts exchanged, lives forever intertwined. The ring that hangs around your neck was given here, under the false sky on a chilly wet night, cold metal sliding onto your ring finger, a warm kiss following suit.

"Here," you say, sitting at your usual spot. He automatically sits on your right as he always has, fingers still intertwined with yours. He says nothing, gaze still fixed on you but there's no trace of suspicion, nor of anger. Instead his eye is filled with curiosity, a hint of caution, but there's also sadness that's no longer hidden by warmth.

He's looking at the image of the lover he lost, the same as you, you realise. He's in the same position as you, confused, saddened, burdened with regrets, and yearning.

"Of course you'd notice. You know me best, you'd recognise me from miles away," you laugh, but it comes out more as a sob. You tug your hood down, revealing yourself and smile sadly. He stares at you, mouth slightly ajar then quickly composes himself.

"I'm Y/N, but not the Y/N you know. I…I come from an alternate universe where I'm, well, clearly not dead. You are though. In my universe. You're dead, I buried you with our daughter in the river where you fought with Vander and since then I — I —" You collapse in his arms, tears streaming down your face. Gripping onto his coat tightly, you wail, scream, let out everything you've been bottling up all this time. You can't stop, the dam has been broken but Silco holds onto you still, cradling your shaking body in his arms.

"I've missed you. I've missed you so bad. I need you, please, I'm lost without you, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to do what you do, I — I just…I just want you by my side again." You weakly cling to him, fingernails digging into his arms.

"I've missed you too." His voice is but a whisper in the wind, his breath warm in your ear. He buries his face into your hair, arms wrapped tightly around you until your tears run dry.

"I'm sorry." You wipe away your tears, pulling away from him. "I shouldn't have —"

"Don't leave just yet. Stay a while more, please." His voice wavers, a weakness you've never seen him display before. Your Silco always hid his weaknesses, only ever displaying them in private intimate moments with you, and even then he never let his voice betray his true feelings, instead putting them into his actions. He always put you first, doing all he could to be strong for you so that you could lean on him whenever you needed to. To see, no hear, him falter, it shattered your heart like never before.

"Just for tonight," you whisper, letting yourself lean into his chest. "We — I shouldn't be doing this."

"Just for tonight," he echoes, closing his eye as he rests his head on yours. You close your eyes, imagining that it's your Silco who's cradling you, your Silco whose arms are wrapped tightly around you.

"I couldn't keep my promise to you." His voice cuts through the silence that has befallen the both of you. "I let you die in my arms, it's because of me that you were never able to see the future we dreamed of. I let you down."

You silently remain curled up against his chest, staring out at the nation of Zaun. Something wet lands on your arm and when you look up, you realise what it is.

Tears. He's crying.

You reach up, gently wiping the tears away. He blinks, taken aback then grabs you by the wrist with one hand while the other lifts your chin. You look directly into his eye, heart thundering in your chest and let him guide you once more.

"You're not my Y/N," he murmurs, "but I —"

"You're not my Silco either, and I know I'll never get him back, but just for tonight, let's pretend like we're in a perfect world." You close the distance, pressing your lips against his. He kisses back, hungrily devouring every inch of you. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer and he rests a hand on the back of your head, supporting it as he kisses you fervently.

"I love you," he gasps as you both pull apart, his voice breaking. "I love you."

"I love you too." You press your forehead against his, slipping your hands into his. "I always will."

Taking a deep breath, you break away, taking one last look at him. You have to go, leave the past behind and not look back, no matter how painful it is. Reaching out, you run your thumb over his scar, swallowing the lump of grief in your throat.

"I will never forget you. Thank you, for everything, Silco."

He watches you leave, a heavy feeling in his heart as he plays with ring sitting on his ring finger. Still, he can't stop the smile from forming on his face. It really was you. You're as strong as ever, forging on ahead no matter how difficult the path is and he's proud, even if it's you from another universe. But he's not. He's never been like you, he's always looked back, letting the past fuel him so he chases after you.

One last glimpse, he tells himself. One last time, then he'll let finally let you go.

One last time, you think to yourself, taking in your surroundings. This is the last time you'll ever see this universe, you're going home now, to your friends, your people, to the place where you created so many memories both good and bad.

As the arcane swirls around you, Powder enters the lab, watching with both awe and sadness. Ekko meets her gaze and you can see the conflict but also the resolve in his eyes. He would make a fine leader of Zaun, you think, maybe it's time to sit back and let the next generation break the cycle.

"Y/N!" Your head snaps in the direction of the voice. Silco?

He mouths something but the arcane is making too much noise for you to hear him. Yet, somehow, you know what he's saying. Smiling, you meet his gaze, a weight lifting itself off your chest.

I will always, remember you.

[sylver-star]

⭑.ᐟ Frostbite - Hong Joshua x reader

genre: blurb, established relationship, fluff word count: 833 warnings: mentions of food rating: PG / SFW

Disclaimer: My works are fictional and do not reflect real-life situations, cultures, or individuals. All characters are purely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

"It's freezing!"

You hear the front door to your apartment shut sharply, and let out a laugh as Joshua begins to huff and puff about the cold weather. Just a week ago, he'd looked out the window with eyes the size of the moon and told you to hurry to look at the pretty snow.

Now, the sound of Joshua's quick footsteps echo towards your place on the couch. It doesn't take long for you to spot him. You can tell he's hastily thrown off his winter clothes: his hair is a mess from his beanie, his hoodie sits crooked on his body from ripping off his jacket, and his socks are halfway off from prying off his boots. In one of his hands he holds a plastic bag, no doubt full of ingredients to make hot chocolate.

"I offered to go get the groceries for you earlier." You remind him.

The two of you had only just gotten out of bed, really. Early in the morning, when the two of you woke up, you both decided that this cold day needed some hot chocolate. Venturing out into the cold kitchen, however, lead you to realize that you didn't have the ingredients. While it was your idea to make hot chocolate, Joshua, ever the gentleman, decided to go get groceries for the both of you. While he went out in the cold, you had been watching TV on the couch and under the comfy blanket his mother had gotten for you for Christmas.

"I'm not going to put you through that torture!" He let out a sigh and sank down into the couch cushions.

Even though the goal of the morning was to make hot chocolate, you ignore the bag of groceries on the ground to tend to your dramatic fiancé. You scoot over to him, and engulf his sweatpants-clad legs in your blanket - you're even so kind as to put your warm legs on his lap as an extra layer. Joshua's cold hands hold your waist, and you let him. It's the least you can do. When he puts his head on your chest, you understand your cue immediately and start gently stroking his hair.

"You're so strong," you say, on the brink of laughter, "So brave."

"I know." His voice is muffled by your skin.

"I'm so happy you're my future husband."

Your words make him look up, and your grin only grows wider. He smiles back, the sudden reminder of the date set in your calendar enough to make him forget about the freezing weather he just walked through.

"Why don't you just marry me now then?" he asks.

He glances down at your lips, but quickly meets your gaze again. You hadn't realized just how close he had gotten. You move back a little, making Joshua follow you. As he moves, you fall back on the couch and he takes the opportunity to get on top of you.

"Hm? Just marry me now, please," he says again with a giggle. "You're going to make me beg, aren't you?"

"This is just the frostbite talking!" you tell him, and he laughs.

"Then warm me up," he suggests, almost shyly.

You study his face. His flushed cheeks, his smiley eyes, his wide, love-sick grin. You take his face in your hands, warming it up in your palms, and bring him in for a kiss. His lips are cold too, but you don't mind it. Not now, when he's making your heart feel so warm.

You pull away, only enough to speak again. "Better?"

"No... I still want to marry you right this second... think the frostbite is still lingering." He goes in for another kiss, and you give in.

When he pulls away, he sighs and puts his head in the crook of your neck. His entire weight is put on you, and you welcome it by patting his back gently with your hands.

"I don't think I'll ever be cured," he mutters.

"Sorry, hun, we set the date for May," you remind him. "And you won't get to see my dress if you don't wait."

"Hm, that's a pretty good argument." Joshua nods, but it feels more like he's just nuzzling his face further into the crook of your neck. "I hope you know I'm excited."

"I know," you promise him.

"So excited."

"I can tell." You giggle and Joshua gets up from the couch slowly.

He helps you up, and pulls you in for a hug. "Do you want to make hot chocolate now?"

You squeeze him a little tighter, just because you can and because you love him. A part of you is convinced that your little squeeze definitely sent him that message. You pull away enough to look up at him, and he's watching you carefully with enough love to make your friends make fake gagging sounds. The honey-moon phase never seemed to be a phase for the two of you. "I'd love to."

[mingoooossii]

ATEEZ comforting you after you have a rough week.

Ot8 x reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, lots of hugs, reader is overwhelmed in most of these, mentions of exams(scary ik), kinda corny tbh, also not proofread so there might be some mistakes.

A/n: i used most of my braincells 4 this 🫠 yea also this purely depended upon my mood so that's why some of them are just thoughts while the others are full blown conversations. will most likely rewrite this is in the future I think. Also I'm planning on opening taglists so if you want to be included just lmk!! (for ateez or any other group)

Words: 3.1k

Requested ♡ Ateez masterlist.

"When you feel like you're nowhere, Let it go 'cause I'll be there for you..."

⋆˚࿔ Hongjoong

• whenever things get a little too much, you'd usually suck it up

• it wasn't healthy, you know that yet you couldn't afford to fall back now so you did it anyway

• him, who's very sensitive to your every little changes in mood, of course, noticed it too

• you tend to sort of shut down whenever you get overwhelmed, causing you to get moody and quiet, often leading to minor arguments with him

• but he understands (being prone to overworking himself, he was never too fond of the after effects)

• but that doesn't mean he's not going to do anything about it

• ”you're taking a break.” “But I need to finish this-”

• he cut you off by closing your book, making sure to bookmark it before picking you up from the chair

• ”have you looked at yourself yet? you're about to collapse.”

• you fell silent at that, letting him carry you over to the bed, feeling your irritation dissolve at the stern tone, yet you could pick up on the hint of worry.

• ”but I need to finish it, or else I won't catch up on my work. I'm already behind in-”

• your worried ramblings was silenced by his lips pressing against yours for a brief moment

• ”i vaguely remember someone pulling me out of my studio, by my ear, when I was overworking myself.”

• he muttered, sitting beside you once he put you down on the bed, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear

• ”you should listen to your own advice, you know?”

• you could feel the tears pricking your eyes at his words, making you feel helpless and frustrated

• ”there's just…so much. i don't know if I'll ever finish it…what am I gonna do?”

• you mumbled, your lips trembling as you tried to bite back your sobs

• his expression softened at your words, pulling you into his embrace, stroking your hair

• ”i know. but exhausting yourself is only going to make it harder for you to catch up.”

• ”let's take a break, okay? you need to rest, let your mind calm down first.”

• you felt him pull away from you, his hand wiping your tears away

• ”how about we go for a walk outside? some fresh air would help, i think.”

• you thought for a bit before nodding. you definitely wouldn't be able to get anything done while you were in this state.

• he finally let a small smile break free, standing up, moving to get your shoes for you

“An ice cream could help too, i've heard. and there's a parlour that just opened up, down the street. i think it's fate.”

⋆˚࿔ Seonghwa

• "are you okay?"

• he asked softly, worry lacing his tone as he watched your sullen figure drop down onto the couch.

• "I'm okay."

• your curt response came out as if it was clockwork, removing your bag before burying your face into the comforter

• you obviously weren't. Well, it'd been like that for a while now

• he sighed before coming over to you on the couch. He knelt down and reached out to take off your shoes which you forgot to

• you tried to sit up, suddenly feeling guilty

• "i got it...-" "Let me."

• you paused before laying back down, feeling a bit nervous at his tone of voice. Was he mad?

• "I'm sorry... it's just lately everything's been going downhill..."

• you mumbled, tears pricking your eyes as you let your emotions of the past week finally weigh you down

• "i c-can't seem to do anything right and...i can't muster up energy for anything...i.."

• you sniffled, waiting for a response. He didn’t reply, instead placing your shoes neatly to the side before standing up and sitting down next to you on the couch.

• "Hwa..."

• a tear rolled down your face as he wrapped his arms around you, resting your head beneath his chin.

• it was incredible how the warmth of his embrace contrasted the gloominess you've been feeling all week.

• "I'm not mad. Why would I be?"

• he spoke quietly, his eyes shutting for a moment, his hand tracing patterns on your back

• "and you know... people don't always have to be okay..."

• "if that were the case then, i think we'd be superhumans..."

• you let out a laugh at his words, feeling your heart lighten slightly

• "i guess..."

• he smiled at the pleasant sound, leaning back slightly to look at you, his hand moving to wipe your tears away.

• "so don't put yourself down, i won't let you."

• he whispered, his expression gentle yet firm before pulling you close again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

• "I'm still gonna worry though. Because I'm a human, a human who happened to be really really really in love with you."

• you chuckled, feeling exasperated yet so so light hearted

"Well, then...this human loves you too, a lot."

⋆˚࿔ Yunho.

• exams were coming up.

• and with exams came all nighters.

• you knew it wasn't healthy at all but your brain refused to listen to you, conjuring up various 'what ifs' each one, bleak.

• yes, exam seasons usually had you stressed.

• he knew it too.

• don't get him wrong, he knew you'd do well (with you being one of the most hardworking people he knows, there was no doubt about that)

• but he knew you couldn't help it. Despite all the assurances, a small part of you always doubted if your efforts were enough

• and he was worried. Of course, he was but he couldn't push you to take breaks even when he knew you needed it

• because he thought it'd be better to be distant than to have you completely shut him out

• but he wasn't sure anymore.

• even more so when he came upon you staring down at your books with teary eyes. You couldn't take it anymore.

• "I'm just so tired"

• you sobbed, burying your face into his chest. He had carried you to the bed from your desk, despite your protests but now you were glad that he did.

• "i know, love."

• he whispered, his hand rubbing your back soothingly, his heart clenching at the sound of your sobs. How could he have let it get this bad?

• but one thing was sure, he wasn't about to let you go through this alone.

• "Take a break, hm?" "But i...-"

• "No buts."

• he replied firmly, his expression showing his worry

• "Baby, it's admirable, it really is...you work so hard and I'm so proud of you..."

• "but I'm worried."

• he mumbled, his voice soft and low, tightening his hold on you

• your words faltered as you sensed the genuine concern in his voice, a twinge of guilt washing over you.

• "You always seem so tired and i...i can't help but feel frustrated for not being able to do anything..."

• his tone was soft, holding you close as if he feared losing you.

• "i don't want anything to happen to you..."

• you heart clenched at the tone of fear in his voice. you felt him lean back, taking your face into his hands carefully

• ”no matter how important it is, pushing yourself beyond the point of breaking will never do you any good.”

•he whispered, his voice quiet as he stroked your face gently

•you stayed silent for a moment, his words going through your mind. you could feel the toll these last few days had on your body. crashing out wouldn't be far at this point.

•so you nodded, reluctantly agreeing, not wanting to worry him any longer and also because you knew you needed this.

•he smiled, seeing you agree (although reluctant) relief coursing through him finally.

“Good. Now, how about some tea? I'll…let you get back to it after a break and this time, I'll help you.”

⋆˚࿔ Yeosang.

• something was wrong.

• he wasn't used to seeing you so...pensive.

• that slight slumping of your shoulders, the way you zone out mid-convos and the quiet sighs that escapes you whenever you think no one's looking

• no, he definitely noticed. It was so unlike you and...he wasn't sure how to react.

• would you be mad if he were to bring this up?

• or would you pretend like there was

nothing wrong?

• he knows that you value your independence very much, often preferring to deal with things on your own

• he respects that and doesn't push in anyway, not wanting to make you uncomfortable

• but he'd also feel a bit guilty (thought it was never his fault) feeling like he was failing as a boyfriend for just watching from the sidelines while you struggled

• though initially, he'd be a bit hesitant and cautious when approaching the matter

• he wouldn't directly confront you but lets you know that he's there for you

• "I'm here, if you want to talk."

• he'll also try to distract you with other activities, whether if it's like a walk in the park or a simply game

• he'll try his best to keep the atmosphere quiet and positive so you'll be able to relax your mind even if it's just a little

• and when you finally open up to him, he listens.

• he doesn't really respond in between and just lets you rant while listening intently

• and you know he is from the way his hand gently squeezes yours in assurance whenever you come to a pause, letting you know that whatever you were feeling was valid

• he isn't that big on physical affection but won't hesitate to shower you in it if you were to ask

• he's just a green flag over all

"I'll be here if you need me. I'll always be here."

⋆˚࿔ San.

• "come here."

• you hesitantly glanced at him before immediately looking away once you met his eyes. How does he know you so well?

• "choi y/n, come. here."

• he repeated, his tone a bit more firm now, spreading his arms wide and looking at you expectantly

• "what's with the choi?"

• you sighed, half-laughing, but you walked towards him, your emotions bubbling up again.

• "you own my heart, so you might as well take my last name too."

• he said softly with a small smile as you finally stepped into his arms.

• "seriously..."

• you mumbled, your voice breaking towards the end as you pressed your face into his chest, tears starting to flow again

• "there we go..."

• he guided you to the couch before sitting beside you. He wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you into him and gently ran his fingers through your hair, whispering.

• "you did a good job, hm? I'm so proud of you."

• "it doesn't feel like that though..."

• you laughed. his words, though comforting, stung a bit, reminding you of your failures yet again

• he frowned, picking upon on the hint of self depreciation in your tone

• "how dare you say that about the love of my life? Do you have any idea how much they mean to me?"

• he spoke, leaning back slightly to look at you, his hand reaching up to pinch your cheeks

• "what're you on about?"

• you chuckled, avoiding his hand, not knowing whether to be amused or exasperated at his sudden burst out

• "I'm serious, my love's the best, the smartest, the kindest, the most hardworking, the prettiest...the list goes on..."

• he continued, his voice firm as he made you face him, wiping your tears away

• "but you know what i like the most about them?"

• he asked, his expression softening considerably

• "they never give up. no matter how hard it gets, no matter what anyone else says, they never give up, because they know that they can get through it..."

• he stroked your face, his eyes never leaving yours, the genuineness in them halting your breath for a moment

• "I know you can..."

• you felt your heart tighten at his words, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you. You hugged him again, tears forming again.

• "why do you always have to be so nice? I hate you..."

• you sobbed, though there was no real heat behind your words

• he chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly

"It's okay, in return, I have lots of love to give you..."

⋆˚࿔ Mingi.

• he knew that things have been rough for you lately

• while he was worried, he wasn't sure to how to bring it up without making you feel even worse

• so he had hoped you'd come to him first

• though nothing prepared him for the sight of you sobbing into your hands infront of him, when you did

• initially he was at a loss as to what to do (it's that T in him)

• but he could feel his heart breaking as he watched you desperately trying to wipe your tears away which seemed to be flowing endlessly at that moment

• instantly he pulled you into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you so tightly like he wanted to shield you from whatever that was hurting you

• "I'm sorry..."

• you weren't sure what he was apologising for and neither was he

• though he wasn't good with words in this situation, he was there for you

• and he hoped you'd know it too

"don't hold back your tears, just let it all out. I'm here."

⋆˚࿔ Wooyoung

• he’s been walking on eggshells the entire week and he wasn't sure how long he could he take it

• your obvious avoidance of him, the curt texts, (hell, he'd prefer it more if you argued with him than this) it was all getting ridiculous

• so, what was the next step? obviously, confronting you.

• though it wasn't going like how he expected it to go.

• ”I'm sorry, i thought it'd be better to avoid you than to let you get affected too”

• you mumbled, your voice a bit hoarse as you brought your blanket covering you, closer

• your face was red, a sheen of sweat covering your forehead as you supported yourself on the wall.

• these past few weeks had taken a toll on you, worse than you thought and before you knew it, you had a fever.

• ”Affect me-...are you serious?”

• he spoke before he could stop himself. really? that's what you've been worried about?

• “I've been worried sick! you think I'd care about some damn germs?”

• you fell silent, feeling a bit guilty now.

• he huffed as if he was in disbelief. he wanted to say more but paused, his eyes falling on your pale face

• he sighed before stepping in, his hands reaching for your face.

• “you're burning up…”

• he muttered, worry lacing his tone as he supported you, making sure to close the door before leading you to your living room, sitting you down on the couch

• you sniffled, rubbing your nose as you watched him bustle around your apartment

• it was weird, seeing him so serious like this, different from his usual playful self

• and it only made you more guilty for worrying him

• ”I'm sorry…”

• he paused, hearing your words, his movements slowing down as he closed the door to your shelf after retrieving the medicine

• “you know? these past few days, I was wondering whether I did something. I couldn't figure it out.”

• he spoke up, returning to the couch, kneeling infront of you, placing a hand on your lap

• “besides, what if you were in your death bed? of course i need to be here.”

• he added, a small smirk forming on his face

• “Hey!”

• you countered, your eyes wide, hitting his shoulder making him laugh out a small ‘sorry!’, lightening the mood slightly

• “no but seriously, you should've told me you were sick. i would've came running.”

• “you always take care of me when I'm sick. I want to do the same…”

• he muttered, his playfulness dissolving into softness, his hand squeezing yours gently

• you felt your heart melt at his words, warmth coursing through you, the pleasant kind this time.

• “Alright then, can you…make me your special chicken soup?”

• you asked, a hopeful glint in your eyes. you’ve been craving it actually.

• his smile returned even more brightly as he stood up, turning to make his way to your kitchen

“I'll make you the damn best chicken soup you're gonna ever have! You won't even need medicine cause it's gonna heal you up right away.”

⋆˚࿔ Jongho

• he knew you were having a rough week

• considering how moody you've seemed lately and you also didn't talk much

• and you were usually the 'affectionate' one in your relationship so the lack of it made him pause

• he was concerned, obviously, but didn't voice it directly or push you to open up

• he trusted that you'd come to him if there was something

• however, it seems like you finally reached your breaking point

• he regretted not talking to you sooner when he came home to you crying one day

• he immediately engulfs you into his embrace.

• you seemed a bit surprised to see him, not expecting him to come back so early

• and you felt bad to burden him with your emotions, surely he had a lot on his plate as well-

• "stupid, you should be worrying about yourself."

• he mumbled, his voice annoyed yet... concerned, pulling you closer when you tried to move away.

• he won't respond with words when you start to pour your worries out

• but you know he's listening with the gentle but assuring squeezes he gave your hand whenever you come to a pause

• well, it wasn't like he really had to talk when his embrace spoke volumes more than any words ever could.

“Don't feel bad for feeling bad, you don't always have to be okay, it's completely normal.”