#Black and red coach purses

[crackedshell]

🖤

[nachojaehyun]

first fuck

pairing. office co-worker! mingyu + fem! reader

summary. fucking on the first date may not be acceptable for many, but when your date was that hot and signing the cheque at the end of the night, who were you to refuse having him in your bed?

playlist. first fuck by 6LACK and Jhene Aiko

warnings. [PLEASE READ] oral (f), lowkey pussydrunk mingoo, fingering, scissoring, kissing, clit play, mingyu is pussy whipped, slight gagging, gentleman mingyu, asking for consent <3 use of nicknames (love, mostly) — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. i got 8 asks about mingyu, so here it is. also thank you guys so much for your support on the wonwoo fic! more soon <3

“we’ll have the cheque please,” his deep voice said, making you shuffle your thighs closer.

as he signed the paper with his expensively heavy pen, he shot you a smile, carding his fingers through his hair.

“come, i’ll drop you off at your place.”

his car reeked of a musky wood, deliciously enticing just like him.

kim mingyu, as he told you he was called, was making your head spin.

conversations with him were easy, flowing simply between tongues, even though you wished his tongue was in your mouth—

the drive back home had your heart jumping. his white dress shirt was tucked into black slacks. taut muscles peeking under the folded sleeves, a shiny gold watch nearly blinding you.

everything about kim mingyu was luxurious.

you would be lying if you said it wasn’t making you drool. “oh, it’s this gate!” you squeaked, clearing your throat after.

unbeknownst to you, mingyu smiled at your nervousness, swerving the car to enter the gated community.

your apartment was quite easy to spot. as he stopped the vehicle in front of the building, you felt your heart about to leap out of your chest as he parked on the side and ran out to hold your door for you.

“mingyu-ssi,” you spoke up after thanking him. he was leaning against his car, hands stuffed in his pockets as he intently listened to you. “yes, love?”

red creeped up your cheeks.

“would you uh…” your fingers fiddled with the strap of your Coach purse. “would you like to come inside?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

inside your humble home, you opted to brewing some coffee for you and your date. mingyu waltzed back and forth, analysing every detail of your apartment.

the cutesy decorations, the books laying around the house, the towels and clothes hanging to dry in the balcony— mingyu felt like he was learning every detail about you.

and it felt so right.

when his co-worker had asked him if he was interested in going on a date, mingyu had initially wanted to refuse. he had no luck with women for his entire life, despite being raised by a hardworking mother and two sisters.

however, when your name was mentioned, he couldn’t help but immediately agree to the meet up.

you were his favorite thing to watch in the office when he was bored. his favorite workplace muse. his favorite person to look at when he was stressed. his favorite picture to eye as his hands gripped around his c—

“mingyu-ssi?” your pretty voice beckoned. “yes, love?” his attention returned to you. “the c-coffee…”

the nickname rolled off his tongue like he was born to call you that. god, you were so pretty.

“ah,” he hurried over to the kitchen counter, smiling.

the dark roast made his lips tingle as he gulped it down. the coffee tasted amazing. he listened to you talking as his thumb traced the raised pattern on his mug.

“and then he said ‘it’s your fault for not buying more ink for the printer.’ can you believe him?”

your chuckle made his lips curl up. “he’s an idiot.”

“yeah,” you trailed off, resting your empty cup on the counter as you stared at the ground, fiddling with the ends of your red dress.

when mingyu called out your name, your breath hitched in your throat.

his mug was long forgotten on the marble countertop, as kim mingyu inched closer to your body. his knee touched yours, and it sent little sparks of electricity up your spine.

“can i… can i kiss you?”

you nodded slowly, watching his mouth split into a smile. within moments, you felt his lips on yours, softly engulfing your mouth.

his lips were pillowy as you grabbed onto his collar, pulling him impossibly close. with one soft bite onto your bottom lip, you gasped. your open mouth invited his tongue as he licked the inside of your mouth, groaning when your fingers bunched up his shirt.

he pulled away after a second, panting through his mouth as a string of salvia connected your mouths. “fuck,” you whimpered, glassy orbs melting into his dazed ones.

“bedroom?” mingyu smirked, grabbing your waist as he pulled you up from your seat. “straight down the hall, second door to your left.”

your knees were shaky as you stood up. chuckling at your state, mingyu pulled you close, tapping your ass as a signal. accepting the offer, you jumped into his arms.

your hands were slung around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. however, your mouth was relentless, placing small kisses all over his neck as you unbuttoned his crisp shirt.

his scent was making you dizzy as you inhaled, licking up the sweat that gathered on his skin.

“shi- feisty aren’t ya?”

you were laid down on the comfort of your bed, back hitting the soft mattress as he laid you down.

kim mingyu stood between your legs, towering over your figure in his casual outfit. he looked absolutely delicious.

you made grabby hands at him, pouting at the distance that had manifested. with a chuckle, mingyu all but pounced on you.

his lips found purchase on your skin, teething it like a madman. your fingers clutched onto his strands, whimpering softly when he licked over the material of your dress.

“as much as i love this on you,” he started, licking his lips. “i think i would love it on the floor even more.”

you could only stupidly grin as you yanked the material over your head. the simple black underwear you wore had mingyu going feral.

how could someone be this fucking beautiful?

while he was analyzing your body like it was a work of art, you tugged at his shirt, giggling. “you want this off baby?” he smiled. when you nodded, he nearly ripped the expensive fabric in two, before leaning down and hovering over your body.

his lips trailed your stomach, leaving a trail of spit in their wake. when he reached the hem of your panties, he looked up at you.

despite the fire burning in his irises, he smiles at you. “may i?”

with a shy nod, you allow him to continue. he mentally thanked you. mingyu thinks he would have jumped from the balcony in your room if you would have denied.

you lift your legs as he pulled your underwear down, groaning into your thighs when he caught a glimpse of your pussy.

“perfect, so fucking perfect.”

he discards the ruined cloth on the floor, grabbing your thighs as he parted them. face to face with your cunt, mingyu feels his consciousness falling into the chasms of insanity.

he places a kiss on your inner thigh, before leaning his head on your skin. his hair tickles you as one of his hands come up from under your thighs.

“wow,” he gasps to himself, tracing your wet folds with his fingers. the contact has you moaning out loud, too desperate to feel any friction.

the pads of his fingers glide over your cunt, messily collecting the moisture. you think mingyu purposefully ignores your clit.

but the man was transfixed by your pussy, eyes drowning in wonder as he picked up his pace. “this is okay right?” he questioned, looking up.

he sees your face contorted in pleasure as you nod. “more than okay, minyu-ssi!”

“hmm?” he teases, slowly using his middle and ring finger to push inside your walls. “how about this?”

“f— hah! mingyu-!”

“answer me,” he demands.

“yes! so good!”

using his fingers, mingyu scissored your walls open, mesmerized by the squelching noises that came from within. your arousal dripped out of your hole in copious drops, and mingyu couldn’t help but lean forward, catching it on his tongue.

“fuck…” you groaned, clutching your new bedsheets.

“love… you taste so good,” his eyes roll back. mingyu wraps his mouth around your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth as his fingers fastened inside you.

your gummy walls squeezed his nimble digits for all their worth as his tongue laved over your puffy clit.

spit and arousal formed a puddle underneath you, as mingyu pushed his face further into your pussy.

his fingers had reached a heavenly pace, toying with your folds and curling into that one spot that had your toes quivering.

“you close, hmm? can tell by the way you’re shaking,” mingyu chuckled. his laugh sent vibrations all the way up to your lower back, making you shiver in pleasure.

“alright then love, cum on my tongue. make a mess with this cute pussy of yours.”

“s— shit!”

with a loud moan of his name, the knot in your stomach came undone. your orgasm crashed on mingyu’s tongue as the man between your legs slurped up every drop you gave him.

the aftershocks of that intense pleasure had you feeling incoherent, mind numb as you looked at him with blurry eyes.

tears coated your lashes. no one had ever made you cum so quickly. hell, no one had ever made you cum like that.

“no no, stay with me baby,” mingyu tutted as he got up from his knees, unbuckling his slacks at your already fucked out expression.

“i have so much to do you, we’re just getting started hmm?” he smiled, pushing his boxers down.

you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes. “i think… i love you,” you giggled out, biting your lower lip.

“yeah?” mingyu’s thumb grazed your chin, before slowly slipping past your lips as he forced himself into your mouth.

his thumb pressed down on the back of your tongue, making you choke loudly as you batted your lashes at him.

“i think you’ll love me more after this first fuck.”

© nachojaehyun, 2024

[sugurizz]

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭.: Joo Jaekyung x f! reader - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: "𝐒𝐞𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐗…

...Don't you think that's strange?"

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 / 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark content ahead!, explicit content, dubcon, graphic content, dom/sub dynamics, power dynamics, HEAVY degradation, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal sex (hardcore anal btw), multiple rounds, Jaekyung putting it in every hole you have, creampie (anal), insults /nicknames (Doc, slut, whore, etc...)

𝐰.𝐜: 1,2k.

𝐉𝐎𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 − 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

'I see you've made up your mind, doc...'

The husky voice came from behind your shoulder.

'...If that's the case, then hurry and strip to your underwear. Haven't got the whole night for this.'

He wanted to get it over with and frankly so did you. If you could skip to the moment he plows into you like a beast in heat you would. Your self-restraint slipped through your fingertips as you pulled your shirt over your head. As it did for seeing him undress and toss his luxurious bathrobe with no care. He pulled his boxers just low enough for his shaft to bounce free and towered over you with his erection in your face.

'suck.' He shamelessly pressed it against your lips, raven eyes locked with yours. And so you obeyed, taking him straight into your throat.

'See my size, hmm? oughtta get that throat nice and ready, miss doc.'

His girth stretched the corners of your mouth as soon as he pushed it in. The calloused hand grabbed your head and pulled it into his shaved pubes. You could feel his veins pulsing against your throat as his skilled fingers tugged on your locks.

Your chest instantly swelled at the lack of air, hearing him growl the deepest 'Mhh fuck! so fucking tight...'. He yanked your head back at once, almost making you throw up. the shiny strings of saliva still pulled your lips to his still throbbing tip.

'Not half bad, miss. But I ain't cumming in your mouth tonight.' He smirked, chest rising and falling as he tried his best to hold back .

His lips pursed together, spitting a load straight on your tongue and smearing it over your mouth before grabbing your jaw between his fingers with a maniac grimace on his face.

'If only Coach and the rest of the black team knew what our doc does in her free time...' He chuckled and smacked your cheek.

'If only they got to watch 'Miss perfect' slobber on this cock like a whore.'

His vile words jabbed at your pride, almost making your tears spill out, but you still had it in yourself to defy him.

'I'm not the one with the sex jinx...'

'Oh, got ourselves some attitude too, huh?'...

He slammed you down on the bed and sat on top of you, blocking your legs between his and forcing your jaw open.

'Don't try me. I'll fuck it right out of you, miss doc.'

You hated his attitude, or so you thought. Though your pussy clenching at his nasty words suggested otherwise. He flipped you over and pulled your underwear to the side, dragging his tip along painfully slow.

'Running your mouth while wetting your cunt senseless seems quite insencere of you...Don't ya think?' He teased and pressed it deeper against your entrance.

'B-But it's not like that! I'm just...'

A painful smack hit your ass, leaving the red imprint on your cheek. You cried out in pain and grabbed at his arm, your juices staining his perfume-fragant bedsheets.   

'Ah...Mr. Joo!, p-please stop..'

'Aww, got ya begging so fast already? slutty doc.' He lifted you over his lap and thrusted in, ripping the loudest scream from you.

'AH!' You threw your head against his chest in surprise.

He stood up and held your whole body in his arms, bouncing you up and down his length. You felt almost weightless in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and muffling your loud sobs into his neck.

'Mr Joo, s-slower...please!'

'Shush, And hold on tight. Your butt's gonna hurt a bit now...'

He pulled out and gave himself a few pumps before switching into your tiny butthole.

'Sir, wait! I've never-'

'God, get it together now, would ya?' Another spank electrifyed you, making your asscheek all red again. 'We still have a long night ahead of us!'

He hammered away at your stomach, The flush on his cheeks gaining a darker shade. The pain of his reckless thrusts toned down, yet his unmatched stamina had you chewing your poor lip.  

'Mmh who could've guessed? Miss doc's getting her ass pounded like a slut.' He grunted, 'you sure carry yourself different outside this room. hmm?'

His pace got faster as his fingers dug deeper into your poor thighs, panting and groaning against your damp skin.

'Aghh..even I couldn't tell how well you could take cock when I first met you.' You knew he was fucking you stupid when his bitter words flew over your head. your brain didn't really catch a sound. Your senses saturated with him filling you up, till your body almost collapsed under his much bigger frame. His fingers instantly caught you by your neck, pulling you back up to him.

'Arch that back properly! you keep fucking slipping.'

'Sir! when..d-do we get to rest..agh' You could barely articulate from his cock punching your g-spot. And he'd be lying if he said the view of you babbling your nonsense while gushing on his dick didn't drive him wilder.  

'Ever rode dick before?' He teased,

'Cause you'll be the one taking charge now.'

He layed down and folded his arms behind his head, smirking at you as he stopped moving inside.

'Your turn, miss therapist.'

You leaned forward, already feeling dizzy, palms holding tight onto his defined pecs. Then slowly rocked your hips with his, whimpering as your clit kissed his pelvis.

Your skin lit up with every touch of his own, almost as if his touch burned you. His grip on your thighs kept you from falling, yet you still felt lightheaded, almost like passing out. He grabbed your waist again and slammed you shut on his cock with a furious impatience.

'AHH, Fuck!' You mewled as you came on his stomach right away. The shockwaves rushing through your muscles had you crash down over his torso right away.

'Hey. I'm far from done here.'

He lifted you off his chest and placed you under him. And you whined in response, feeling him enter you again

'Get your shit together now. I ain't here to baby-sit!'

His pace got instantly erratic and so did his grunts. Driving you insane with his hands manhandling your back, spanking your ass, grabbing your waist, squeezing your hips and mercilessly tightening around your neck.

'F-uck, I cum inside by the way.' He grabbed you in a chokehold as he pumped his potent seed in your butthole, then grinned and pulled out slowly, whispering into the crook of your neck

'I just made you my cumdump. Congrats, Doc.' you tightened at the sound of his voice,  pushing his cum loads out your hole. He licked his lips in full pride, relishing at the sight of your seeping butt before pulling you to his chest again.

'Oh and just so you know, I never go less than 3 rounds on my matches' eve...'

Your body grew numb, and equally did your brain. Though you knew he had yet to satisfy his desire. You didn't know how much longer you had to go, nearing to pass out on his greedy lust. His rough touches spared no spot on your flesh, his powerful thighs slamming yours in the most feral ways...

-----

...You woke up to the mild sunrays, faint hints of his cologne bringing back the lewdest flashbacks he gave you. He was nowhere to be seen, only a large-sized towel left on side of the bed you believed he layed on.

You grabbed your phone as you slowly regained your senses, seeing a notification on your screen.

'𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞., 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭?'…

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑?...

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

[brunettegirlwrites]

rafe and his bunny girl ᕱ⑅ᕱ character board

bunny loves having rafe’s hands on her and vice versa. their love language is definitely physical touch.

when she’s not working at angels, she loves being outside. whether it’s out on her row boat, a picnic in the park, or swimming at the beach—bunny loves it.

bunny loves dresses!! or wearing one of rafe’s button downs as a dress. she loves to wear white and anything with lace and ruffles.

her favorite plant is lavender. her favorite color is baby pink. she loooooves olivia rodrigo.

she loves to thrift, 100% of her closet are expensive, one-of-a-kind, vintage pieces. although, her favorite buy is her black soho coach shoulder bag.

she’s the mom friend who always has healthy snacks in her purse. oh you’re feeling lightheaded? here’s mini celery and carrot sticks.

her uniform <3 this plus her cherry red heels!!!! she’s so cute i love her so much

[peachhcs]

mundane moments

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

some mundane moments between samy & will on facetime as she gets ready for a night out

1.5k words

au masterlist

the vibration from samy's phone made the small area of her desk shake underneath her elbows that were propped up in front of her tiny silver mirror, delicate hands applying the last of her mascara. she flipped the device over, a grin spreading across her pink lips seeing her boyfriend's contact flash across the screen. the girl immediately answered, propping her phone up against whatever was in front of her as will's face appeared. 

"hi will, what's up?" samy continued grinning, checking the last of her eyelashes to make sure she didn't miss a spot. her lack of attention caused her to miss the smile spreading across will's own lips and the flush coating his cheeks. 

he was glad gabe wasn't in the room or else he'd start chirping at him for being so grossly in love. 

"hi pretty girl," the blonde said making samy's own cheeks shed a light pink. he never failed to make her blush whenever that nickname left his lips.

"hi will!" hannah exclaimed, popping into frame for a second.

"hey will!!" bailey also yelled from across the room. samy's friends loved saying hi to will whenever he was on facetime. the boy chuckled, "hey guys."

"we're going out. hannah convinced me to head to this frat with her and bails," the brunette rolled her eyes slightly as she eyed hannah a few feet away. the other girl shrugged, "what? you said you wanted to go out more."

"i know, i know. okay, i need your opinion on what bag i should bring," samy pushed herself out of her desk chair and backed up so will could see her entire outfit while grabbing the two different purses from her bed.

she posed a few times with each bag, but the only thing will could focus on was how good she looked. her slightly too short black skirt and plunging v-neck top had the blonde a bit breathless and red. he wasn't even paying attention to her purses anymore.

"he's not even paying attention, hughes. i told you your outfit would distract him," hannah snickered when no response came from will.

that snapped the boy back into reality as he embarrassingly cleared his throat. samy flushed—loving how she had an effect on him even through a screen. "i bet he wasn't even paying attention to the purses. go with the black one, it goes with everything," bailey commented.

"hey, i was...sort of. black is cute," will attempted to defend himself. his weak effort made the girls laugh instead.

"you're so cute. i miss you," samy crawled back into her desk chair, bringing the camera closer to her face. her lips sparked in the light, showing off her sparkly lip-gloss that will's kissed off those lips so many times in the summer.

"i miss you too. wish you were here or i was there," the blonde said, sadness creeping into his voice.

long distance was hard. with their busy schedules, the two hardly saw one another since they started college. practices and games always got in the way and it wasn't like they could just up and leave without some harsh remarks from their coaches. will desperately missed his girl. there wasn't a time when he wasn't thinking about her—and that was saying a lot considering all he's ever thought about was hockey. he missed her especially when she looked as good she did and will wouldn't be there to have his arm securely around her waist so everyone knew she was his.

"i know. feels like it's been ages since i've seen you," samy frowned as well.

it was even worse because they wouldn't even be spending winter break together—or at least not all of it. will just recently got called up to play on the usa world juniors team with gabe, ryan, fowler, drew, and aram. that meant they'd all be spending their holiday in sweden and while will was extremely grateful for the opportunity, he probably wasn't gonna see samy at all unless she flew out with him. that was a big ask that will knew he couldn't make because he knew how much she loved spending the holidays with her family in michigan.

"maybe i'll get some downtime or something. or i'll just sneak off for a weekend," will chuckled, trying to lighten the mood because he hated when samy was sad.

"i know your coach would bench you for the next five games," samy teased a little as she touched up some of her foundation and powder.

"it's worth it if i get to see you," the blonde shrugged. samy rolled her eyes again, but will would seriously drop everything for her if she asked.

"okay, final look. what do you think?" samy held the phone close to her face so her boyfriend could see her entire makeup look. will couldn't help but take a screenshot, admiring her pretty face and pretty lips and wanting to have a picture to stare at for later. 

"you look beautiful," will said making the girl blush again. he prided himself in the fact that he could still make her blush miles away. 

"and the outfit? too much? too little?" she stood back up so will could see her entire outfit again.

he took another screenshot, face reddening into a deep blush. the short skirts were will's kryptonite and he absolutely adored it when samy wore them. he unashamedly checked her out through the screen, getting distracted once more. she looked so hot and while will swore he wasn't the jealous type, there was a pinch in his stomach thinking about all the guys that would look at his girl the way he was looking at her now. especially in a frat.

"you lost him again," hannah laughed seeing will's longing stare through the screen.

"s-sorry. you look incredible," will flushed when he snapped back into reality again.

"you're so adorable. i love you," samy smiled.

"i love you more," will smiled back.

"i'll text you, yeah? talk to you later," the brunette kissed her phone. will did the same back and they said their goodbyes for now. two minutes later, hannah and bailey both got texts from will.

will look out for her tn for me have fun :)

the girls both smiled, already knowing that will was the one.

—

a little habit will picked up was staying up until he knew samy made it back home safely whenever she went out. sometimes they'd call, sometimes they wouldn't, but either way, will had his eyes on her location as the time ticked closer to one in the morning. he told himself it wasn't a controlling thing, but more of a protective thing because he'd never forgive himself if he went to bed and his girl didn't make it home safely. 

will knew he'd definitely feel drowsy when he had to wake up in six hours for practice, but it was all worth it for his girlfriend's safety and well-being. he watched as her little icon finally made it into her dorm building—a wave of relief filling the boy's chest. before he could shut his phone off for the night, it began buzzing in his hand and samy's name came up on the screen. will immediately answered, smiling when he saw her pretty face a second later. 

"hi beautiful. make it home?" will wondered, trying to whisper as best as he could so he didn't wake gabe up. 

"yup. were you stalking my location?" the girl teased some, shutting her door and shuffling towards her desk. 

will never explicitly told her he watched her location when she went out, but samy picked it up fairly quickly when will was always awake when she called late at night. the blonde's face flushed as he shuffled into the bathroom to speak a little more freely without disturbing gabe. 

"maybe. did you have fun?" the boy wondered, leaning against the counter and fighting the sleep creeping into his system. 

"it was fine. frats are frats. would've been more fun if you were with me," the girl giggled as she began taking off her makeup. 

will smiled some. samy always got giggly when she had a few drinks in her. 

"maybe next time i visit you can bring me along," the boy chuckled. 

"obviously. eth and mark already have an itinerary made out when you come and visit," that made both of the teenagers laugh. "how was your night, though? what did you do?" samy shifted the focus to will. he flushed a little. she never failed to ask about him at any given moment. 

"nothing special. hung out with lean and gabe. we didn't feel like going out," will explained briefly. 

"would've been me if hannah didn't drag me out," samy laughed. 

the two sat in comfortable silence as will watched samy get herself ready for bed. it wasn't until another five minutes when the brunette finally crawled into bed, giving a tired smile to will. the boy returned her gentle smile with one of his own as he made his way back into his own bed. 

"i miss you, will. come visit me soon," the girl mumbled, sleep laced in her voice.

"i miss you too, pretty girl. hopefully i'll see you soon," will said a bit sadly. samy only managed another smile before completely falling asleep a moment later. 

the blonde smiled, blowing a soft kiss to the screen and finally shutting his phone off for the night.  

[daisies-daydreams]

HELLO HONEY !!

i’d like to request a ghost x reader fic where he’s a college athlete and the reader is the coach’s daughter. he attracts a lot of attention (i wonder why) and is used to getting who he wants and is pleasantly surprised when the readers uninterested at first :)

Try (CollegeAU!Simon Riley x F!Reader)

Pairing: Simon Riley x F!Reader Category: Fluff & Angst Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Themes, Drinking, Smoking, Attempted Drugging, Referenced Assault, Violence Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Hello! Thank you for your request! I apologize: I tried my best to understand rugby, but it's not really popular where I'm from. It's just a sport that I thought would fit Simon the best. I hope you enjoy!

(Minor spoiler: Simon is not the one who drugs your drink).

Image Source: Pexels

-> Ch. 2

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Simon rubbed the red mark on his cheek, his eyes lingering on the woman who was pulling her clothes back over her bare body.

“I just can't believe you, Simon,” she spat. Simon remained silent as he watched her grab her purse and stomp out of his dorm without another word. The door slammed with a loud thud as he remained clutching the blanket with one hand and cradling his cheek with the other. The welt stung, sending small ripples of pain through his face.

Simon grumbled as he rubbed the sore spot a few more times before planting his feet on the floor. He pulled out his phone and earbuds. Rugby practice was starting soon, and he couldn’t waste his time ruminating about a short fling.

Music blasted through his ears as he grabbed his duffel bag and walked towards the field. It was a blazing summer day, the sun beating down against his rugged body. He passed by a group of female students. They giggled and whispered as he nodded and waved towards them.

Getting a woman wasn't easy for Simon. Actually keeping them was the difficult part. All of the players eyed Simon as he walked into the locker rooms.

“What happened to you?” a foreign exchange student, nicknamed "König", gawked as Simon strode up to his locker. Simon patted his cheek, the welt still slightly swollen.

“Just a mishap,” he replied in a flat tone as he changed into his Jersey and shorts. Johnny, his roommate and teammate, peeked from beside the lockers.

“You sure it wasn’t a parting gift from that hen you’ve been seein?” he asked with a raised brow. Simon tensed at his words and harshly pulled out his boots. König and Johnny exchanged a knowing glance.

Simon sighed as he slipped his large footwear on. He tied his boots just as he heard the faint sound of a whistle blowing.

“C’mon. Practice is starting soon,” König said. Johnny followed after him, then Simon.

Despite him having incredible sex just before he came to practice, there was a tiny seed growing in his chest. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it felt cold and made his heart feel like it was filling with lead. Simon tilted his head side to side as if shaking his own thoughts out. He scanned the field and the sharp sting in his chest quickly faded when he saw a young woman sitting in the stands.

Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun, your clothes not too revealing but not too modest. You nibbled on the end of your pen as you stared down at your notebook, a textbook resting on your lap. You glanced up and locked eyes with him. Simon’s chest exploded with warmth, his pupils dilatating ever so slightly. He couldn’t help but swallow when he saw your lips part slightly.

The sound of a whistle screeched and broke his attention.

“Riley! Let’s focus!” Coach Price’s voice boomed. Simon huffed as he ripped his gaze from you and jogged towards the players doing warm ups. Everyone agreed that the new coach was something of a hard ass. Rumors have spread that he used to be a black op in the SAS. Simon wasn’t really one for gossip, so he shrugged it off.

Simon would peek over at you every so often, your beauty only making him sink further into desire. Johnny noticed this fairly quickly. He nudged Simon’s shoulder as they were doing a few warm-ups.

“I wouldn’t go after her if I were you,” Johnny said, his eyes full of worry. Simon laughed.

“What? She your bird or somethin'?” he asked. Before Johnny could reply, Coach Price blew the whistle again.

“Everybody line up in formation!” he bellowed. Simon bit the inside of his cheek as he stole another glance at you. You were still nose-deep in your homework. You yawned and stretched your arms above your head.

Another whistle blow.

“Riley!” Price barked. You looked up again, this time your lips forming into a small smile as he met your gaze. Simon felt even more determined when he played now, checking over his shoulder every now and then. Of course, this came with consequences, including several remarks from Price.

"In case you forgot your position: you're the fullback, Riley! Watch for your team!" the coach yelled at the top of his lungs. Simon saw you giggling before turning back to your book.

By the end of the training, he was worn out and covered in sweat, his tattooed arms flexing as he stretched himself on the bench.

“Hit your head too many times?” Johnny teased. Simon huffed as his eyes wandered back up to the stands where you still remained. Your hair was slightly frizzy from the late summer heat. You tucked a strand behind your ear before taking a drink of water. Judging from the expression you made, it was empty. You rose from your seat and started walking to the nearest water fountain. Simon took a huge swig of water before wiping his mouth.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. Johnny’s mouth opened to call for him but he was already making his way up the metal steps. Simon actually felt his heart race as he approached you. You were filling up your water bottle as he pressed his hand against the wall.

“Scuse me,” he said. You turned around and blinked. A forced smile stretched across your face as he strolled up to you, his jersey clinging to his rugged, sweaty skin. Your beauty almost made him forget just why he came up there.

“Just wanted to introduce myself. The name’s Simon,” he said as he held his hand out. Your smile fell as you shook it, your palms soft compared to his.

“I thought it was Riley,” you quipped. He laughed.

"That's my last name. Just call me Simon," he grinned. You gave him a short nod before making your way back to the stands. Simon scrambled towards you.

“I haven’t seen you around practice before,” he commented as you two walked. You nodded, your face tight.

“I’ll probably just be around for this week,” you said with a slight edge to your voice. Simon tilted his head. There seemed to be something familiar about you. Maybe you were one of his classmates?

“Yeah? Why’s that?” he asked. Your lips pursed as you squeezed your bottle.

“My car’s the shop,” you explained, your nostrils flaring. Simon grunted, his eyes looking you up and down as both of you turned the corner.

“Sorry if this is sudden, but has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your smile is?” he drawled, his voice dropping a few octaves. You blinked and sighed.

“Listen, you seem like a somewhat decent guy, but I need to get back to my homework,” you stated matter-of-factly. Simon nearly choked on his spit. This is the first time in what felt like an eternity that a girl’s turned him down. His heart began to race as he watched you slip away.

“Bye,” you quickly said with a wave as you returned to your seat. Simon’s jaw clicked as he felt a bitter taste envelope his tongue. Eventually, he stopped staring at you and made his way back down to the field. Johnny’s face looked somewhat pale as he strode up towards him.

“What?” Simon snapped. Johnny pointed towards the stands. Simon’s eyes followed him. His throat grew tight as he saw you talking to Coach Price. The man’s arms were crossed as he nodded along to your words. It felt like lightning struck through him when Price’s head snapped towards him, his eyes narrowing and face turning bright red.

“Good luck, mate,” Johnny said as he roughly patted his shoulder. Simon scoffed as his roommate stepped back while Price approached them. Everyone watched, the entire field seeming to freeze. The coach came uncomfortably close to Simon as he snarled in a strained voice:

“My office. Now”.

+++

The next several minutes were filled with Price casting death glares at Simon as he ranted at him.

“Listen here, boy. I may be new, but I already know of your reputation here on campus," he began. Simon's face remained as neutral as possible as spit flew out of the man's mouth. "I’m not about to let my daughter become another one of your brazen hussies,” he growled as he shook his index finger at him. Simon felt his chest turn to stone as he watched the coach scowl.

“You are not to touch, speak, or even look at (Y/N),” Price ordered. Simon nodded quickly, his chest tightening as the man stared him down. The coach leaned forward, his palms pressed to the cold wood of the desk as he scowled.

“Mark my words, Riley. If I find out you’ve stuck your knob inside my daughter, I’ll cut it off and feed it to my fucking dogs,” he roared. Simon swallowed a lump in his throat as he nodded.

“Same goes for the rest of you!” Price shouted as his head snapped towards his door. Whispers followed by several shuffling feet were heard outside the door. Simon’s blood ran cold as his shoulders tightened.

“Yes, sir. I understand,” he muttered. Price’s nostrils flared as he pointed out of his office.

“Good. Now, get out of my sight. And don't get distracted next time...or else,” he spat. Simon nodded before turning on his heel, quickly making his way down the hall. The locker room was silent when he stepped inside. Several eyes were locked on him as he walked towards the showers. Simon closed his eyes and sighed as the cold water rushed down his sweaty, rippling back. Thankfully, the locker room was nearly empty by the time he stepped out.

Johnny stood scrolling through his phone before looking up. He offered Simon a careful smile as they walked out of the building.

“Want to get some takeaway?” he asked. Simon remained silent, simply looking forwards as the world blurred around him.

Not only did you reject him, but the man who was your father happened to be one of the most terrifying people he’d ever met. A lump formed in his throat as he glanced down at his crotch, then back up at the sidewalk.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was the coach’s daughter?” Simon grumbled. Johnny shrugged.

“I tried to, but we had to start practice,” he explained. Simon ran a hand down his face. Frustration built inside him like boiling lava inside a volcano. He whipped out his phone, texting a girl he met a few weeks ago.

“Which one are you texting this time?” Johnny asked bluntly. Simon ignored him, instead sending her a message about a party this weekend. A friend of theirs, Kyle, was in a fraternity who was notorious for throwing massive raging keggers.

“Surprised you actually texted a girl back this time, Ghost,” Johnny quipped as he nudged his shoulder. Simon rolled his eyes.

“When the hell are you all goin' to drop that annoyin' nickname?” he grumbled. Johnny chuckled as they stepped through the doors to their dorm building. Simon happened to glance over to see you passing by in a black truck. Your eyes locked again briefly before you looked away. Price was in the driver’s seat, his eyes set on the road as he pulled away.

“Come on. I think a couple of pints is in order for the both of us,” Johnny said. Simon raised a brow.

“You no longer with Gabby?” he asked. Johnny’s bright smile seemed to falter.

“I dinnae ken. She said she ‘needs a break’,” the Scotsman said as he flexed his fingers with air quotes. Simon grunted.

“Alright-but you’re buyin’,” he stated. He didn't even try to hide his wry grin as Johnny scoffed and rambled at him.

+++

The next few practice's were brutal, to say the least. Every time he looked at you, Price demanded everyone to do one-hundred push ups. Simon was beginning to believe the rumor's about the coach's past.

“For fuck’s sake, man-just keep your eyes off of her!" one of the players gaped after a tiring practice. Simon ignored him as he changed into a fresh pair of clothes. His shorts hugged his muscular thighs nicely while his tank too stretched over his rugged upper body. Johnny came up beside him.

“You still goin’ to Kyle’s party tonight?” he asked. Simon nodded.

“Yeah, Tracy ditched me at the last second though,” he shrugged. Johnny patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s a lovely lass who’ll gladly get into your pants…that is, if she hasn't already,” Johnny smirked. Simon punched his arm, causing the Scotsman to chuckle.

“What about you, big guy? You wanna come?” he asked as he turned towards König. Simon had absolutely no idea how this guy was human. He had to duck every time he walked through the door for crying out loud. König sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Nein, it’s not really my scene,” he shrugged.

“Fair enough-just know the invitation is always open,” Johnny grinned. König nodded before slipping towards the showers. A 'thunk' sound reverberated across the room as König swore in German and rubbed his head.

Simon closed his locker door before padding out of the building. His eyes lit up when he saw you climbing into a black truck. He frowned when Coach Price’s cold, heavy gaze trailed over towards him. He glared at him before climbing into his vehicle and driving away. Simon sighed before making his way back to the dorm.

+++

Loud music thumped against the walls. Smoke hung in the air as several students bumped and grinded against each other. The lighting was dim inside the frat house as chaos erupted at every waking second. Simon sipped at his beer while Kyle rambled on and on about how obnoxious some of the new frat members were.

"And Graves-Christ, don't even get me started. He never stops talking about his precious Porsche back in the States. His old man got it for him as a present for his sixteenth birthday. Can you fuckin" believe that?!" he scoffed as he waved his hands wildly. The song changed during the one-sided conversation and that’s when Simon felt it: the cold, dark pit opening up inside his chest.

The feeling made his beer grow stale, music dull and the air thick and heavy. He brushed past Kyle as he made his way towards the back deck, ignoring his several questions. The people in the room seemed to slow down as he barraged his way through. He barely caught a glimpse of König.

"Bastard actually showed up," Simon thought. A blonde girl was sitting next to the Austrian, batting her lashes as she whispered something into his ear. His cheeks turned a bright red as he pulled his hoodie over his head.

Simon swung the door open and slammed it closed. He took a deep breath of the chilled night air. Crickets chirped as the muffled music inside swelled into a crescendo.

“Needed a break too, huh?” a familiar voice asked. Simon’s eyes flew open and landed on you. You were wearing ripped jeans and a black crop top, your body decorated with minimal amounts of jewelry. Even in the dim lighting, you looked ethereal.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. You turned your body towards him, the light from inside highlighting your features.

“Got any smokes?” you asked. Simon raised a brow and nodded.

“Yeah, but I forgot my lighter,” he said as he rummaged through his pocket. You snatched something from your jeans, pulling out a small, silver box. Simon grinned as he walked over, offering you a cig. You flicked the lighter on before taking it from his fingers. You turned as you sucked in a long drag, puffing out the smoke into the night. Your eyes lingered on his shocked face.

“What? I’m the daughter of a coach, not a pastor,” you retorted before taking another drag. The corners of Simon’s eyes crinkled as he remained near you. He slid his hands together as both of you stood silently, watching the water of the lake catching the light of the full moon.

“I’m sorry if I was being too forward the first time we met,” he sighed. You gave him an unreadable look before exhaling out a long trail of smoke.

“You’re fine,” you said. Simon turned towards you.

“No, really. I should've just-” he said as his eyes wandered around. You nudged his shoulder.

“I said it’s fine, Riley,” you huffed. His lips curled up as you both went back to staring at the lake.

“Did my dad tell you that he’d cut off your dick?” you asked bluntly. Simon nearly choked on his spit. You cocked a brow, already getting your answer just from his pale face. You shook your head and sighed. “Sorry, he can get a little intense,” a small pink blush made its way across your face. Simon nodded.

“A little?” he muttered and rolled his eyes. You snorted, a genuine, small grin etching across your face. You were soon laughing, your bubbly chuckles falling across the landscape and drowning out the music. Simon found himself chuckling along with you, his face hurting from how much he was smiling.

Despite all the women he's been with, this had to be the first where he felt something genuine stir inside his chest. It wasn’t the drunk feelings he got whenever he’d lie in the afterglow-it felt deeper, pouring and coursing through his entire body.

And he realized something as the smoke from your lips wafted towards him: he wanted to feel that genuine warmth every second of his waking life.

You put out the cigarette on the deck before wiping an amused tear from your eye.

“Thanks, Riley. I really needed that,” you smiled. Simon beamed.

“No problem. Just come to me if you need a laugh. I've gotta funny face, anyway,” he commented. You snorted and lightly punched his arm.

"Not that funny looking," you smirked. Simon pretended to be offended before both of you laughed again. His face grew hot as you looked up at him. Your face looked so serene as you parted your lips. Simon tilted his head when the words came out as a garbled mess.

“You feelin’ alright, kid?” he asked with knitted brows. Your eyelids began to droop as you nodded.

“Just…dizzy…” you slurred as you wobbled around. Simon’s eyes widened as your legs suddenly crumpled beneath you. He was quick to snatch you in his burly arms.

"(Y/N)?" he asked. You rolled your head around, your eyes glazed over as you continued to slur. His eyes flicked over to a red solo cup resting on the ledge of the deck. Heat rose inside his chest as he gritted his teeth. He laid your head down on the deck, keeping his hand beneath it.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” he asked, his heart sinking into his stomach. You gurgled weakly, eyes hazy and unfocused. “Fuck,” he hissed as he frantically looked around. A man seemed to be watching both of you from inside. He quickly ducked behind a group of women. Simon looked back down at you. His thumb stroked a tear that rolled down your cheek.

"Simon...'m scared," you sobbed quietly as your pupils became constricted.

"I know, hun. Just let me-" he remembered König sitting on the couch right next to the door. He looked back down at you.

“I’m going to get help. I’ll be at the door and I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?” he mumbled. You parted your lips, your head lolling to the side. Simon sprinted to his feet and wrenched the door open. König sputtered as Simon grabbed him from his chair, the woman shooting daggers at him. He led the giant man outside. König gasped when he saw your unconscious body.

“What happened?” he asked. Simon gripped his shoulders.

“I think (Y/N)‘s drink has been spiked,” he seethed. König’s face lost its color as you slurred out incoherently. Simon slid his car keys into König’s hand. “I need you to take her to the ER for me,” he said as he gripped his shoulders.

“What are you going to do?” König asked as he began to gently pick you up. Simon tightened his fist as he strode back into the crowd.

“I need to take care of something real quick,” he hissed. His head throbbed as he stomped and shoved his way through several people. Simon narrowed his eyes when he saw the familiar man rushing towards the side door. He gritted his teeth as he ran towards him. The man yelped as Simon landed a punch square across his cheek. Several women gasped and scattered as Simon pulled the man to his feet.

“Tell me what you put in (Y/N)‘s drink,” Simon growled as he shook the man’s collar. The dark-haired man spat in his face, blood and spit spraying across it.

“What drink, you arsehole?” he snarled back, though a small, knowing grin crept across his face.

“If you’re going to fight, then take it outside,” a frat member yelled towards him. Simon curled his fists in the man’s polo shirt.

“Gladly,” he said while tilting his head.

He dragged the man through the side door, punching him again across his other cheek. He watched in satisfaction as he fell to the ground, groaning while he cradled his face in his hands. Simon drove his large fist into the man’s chest, causing him to wheeze. He came down onto one knee, his voice sharp and acidic.

“Tell me what you put in her drink,” he said as he grabbed the man by his shaggy hair. The man winced. Simon gripped at it even harder. "I won't ask again," he warned. The man spat out another string of spit and blood.

"Fentanyl," he muttered. Simon's fists shook as he readied another blow.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Kyle gasped. Simon leaned his head towards him. Kyle stood with his mouth agape. Several people crowded and watched from behind. Simon glanced back down at the man. His face was covered in blood, his cheeks already swelling with bruises. The polo he grabbed him by was similar to the one Kyle wore.

“Ky-you gotta get this twat off of me! He's fuckin' delusional!” the man sputtered. Simon released his grip on the man. He fell back to the ground with a yelp. Kyle ran up to him.

“You alright, VP?” he asked. Simon frowned as he watched the man get picked up.

“I’ll be fine,” he glared at Simon. His eyes trailed down to see a piece of a plastic bag poking out of his back pocket.

“Wait,” Simon called as Kyle was escorting the man back into the house. Kyle scowled at him.

“I’m not waiting for anything, Riley. You nearly beat the shit out of our VP,” he spat. Simon stepped forward, causing the man to flinch.

“Check his back pocket, but don't touch anything if you find it” he ordered. Kyle twisted his lips while the Vice President released a laugh.

“Don't listen to this git, Garrick. He-“ Kyle's nostrils flared as he spun the man around and grabbed at his pocket. His eyes bulged when a bag filled with white, dusty powder slipped out. The Vice President’s face fell.

“That’s-That’s just for...personal use," he explained, his voice weak and shaky. Kyle’s brows furrowed as he threw the Vice President onto the lawn, his beaten and bruised body landing on top of the bag. The man hissed as he rose to his hands and knees.

Simon pulled out his phone and quickly texted König what you had consumed. Just as Simon put away his phone, the VP stood on his feet and swung his fist into his ribs. Simon groaned as he clutched his side, a dull ache reverberating across his skin.

“He’s getting away!” one of the women inside screamed. Simon grabbed his ribs, trying his best to run towards him. The Vice President was surprisingly quick, though. He looked back and smirked at Simon before suddenly running into a rough wall. He huffed as he fell back to the ground. Johnny stood with his hands on his hips, cocking a brow. The Vice President's bottom lips quivered.

"Please, you have to help me! These men are trying to frame me!" he begged as he clawed at Johnny's ankles. Johnny's shoulders bounced as he released a hearty laugh.

"Yeah? Then why are you running away?" he asked. The man's face grew pale as he was surrounded by the two men. Simon cracked his knuckles while Johnny leaned down. "Ever been to a rugby match?" Johnny grinned. The man whimpered.

+++

You blinked slowly, your eyes still somewhat unfocused. Price’s eyes became misty as he rose from his chair.

“Dad?” you asked with a hoarse voice.

“Pumpkin, thank God you’re alright,” the coach choked as he instantly rushed to your side. Your eyes were wide as he hugged you tightly.

“Dad, I-I’m so sorry. I tried to be careful like you taught me, but-“

“Hush, now. I’m so happy you’re safe,” he sniffed. Your eyelids fell as you silently cried, your father holding and rocking you gently. Simon watched from the doorway, his arms crossed.

After they taught the VP a lesson, they called the police. They promptly took the man into custody (though not without questioning his broken nose and several bruises). Simon had to ask to borrow Kyle’s car once they took the man away. He reluctantly agreed and yelled at Simon as he sped out of the parking lot. Relief washed over him when when the nurse said you'd be okay. König remained until he knew you were alright, trading Simon's keys for Kyle's. It was around one in the morning when Price showed up-his hair messy and face completely pale.

“Where’s my little girl?” he asked with a strained voice, his eyes weary and solemn. The men directed him to the front desk and a woman escorted all of them back.

Simon’s attention was snapped back to the present when someone clears their throat behind him. He turned. A woman wearing a police uniform cocked a brow at him.

“I’m detective Jones. Is this where Y/N is staying?” She asked. Simon nodded and let the man through. “Thanks,” Jones said in passing. Price pulled back, his hands squeezing your shoulders as the detective stepped into the room.

“Good afternoon, I’m detective Natalie Jones,” she said as she held out her hand. Price’s face grew stern as he shook Jone’s hand.

“John Price,” he said. Jones nodded.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask (Y/N) a few questions,” she said as she flipped open a dark notebook. Price squeezed your hand as his face hardened even more. “I understand your concerns of leaving her alone, sir, but I promise it won’t take more than fifteen minutes,” she explained. Price looked over at you.

“It’s okay, Dad,” you assured him weakly. He squeezed your hand again and sighed.

"I'll be right out in the hall if you need me," he said. You gave him a tired smile as he rose from his seat. Price nodded at the officer before walking into the hall.

Simon noticed the bags under his eyes. Jone's shut the door behind her as Price stood mere feet away from the young player. The sounds of doctors and patients, as well as various beeps, echoed in the stark hallways. The coach cleared his throat.

“Thank you for...helping (Y/N),” he said. Simon rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sure,” he replied. The two men shuffled awkwardly.

"Listen, I'm sorry I was kind of hard on you before," Price huffed. Simon raised a brow.

"Kind of?" he thought. Price bit the inside of his cheek as he placed his hands on his hips.

"It's just...(Y/N)'s all I have left. She's still my little girl to me, and I don't know if I'm ready to accept that she's become a woman," he sighed. Simon remained silent. Price leaned on the wall, staring into the closed door. "There's just so much out there that could hurt her, and I won't always be there to protect her," the coach's voice cracked as tears welled in his eyes.

Simon craned his neck and looked down at his feet. He slowly moved forward and hesitantly placed a hand on Price's shoulder. The coach flinched at the sudden contact, his eyes slightly red as he glanced over.

"Someone will always be there to protect her. She knows the entire bloody rugby team for Christ's sake," Simon said. Price's lips cracked into a miniscule smile.

"Right," the man sighed. Simon slid his hand from Price's tense shoulder. The door creaked open, followed by detective Jone's stepping out. Despite her composure, Simon could see the mist in her eyes.

"Mr. Riley, if it's alright I'd like to ask you a few questions as well," she said. Simon nodded.

"Alright," he said. She motioned for him to follow her. As he passed by your room, both of you exchanged glances. You gave him a bright, warm smile. He grinned back. Simon is a fullback-it's his job, after all.

Someone will always be there to protect her.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Tag list:

@notthatfanfictionwriter

[vampzity]

𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜

Pairing: Idol! Jongho x f! reader

Genre: fluff, one shot, Valentine’s Day, pet names (babe, darling, princess, honey, my love), valentines series, mini idol au

Synopsis: It’s a romantic Valentine’s Day to spend with your beloved boyfriend, Jongho. He had the entire night planned for you. A nice candlelit dinner at an exclusive club. Little did you know what was in store for you on this fine night.

Now Playing: My Everything - Jongho (ATEEZ)

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: And we are finally coming to a close with the Valentine’s series! (even if it’s not February anymore) I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did. Sorry this took so long! I worked so much (ateez isn’t gonna pay itself) & had school. I can’t wait to share more with you guys :))

*not proofread*

Wooyoung's Pt. Masterlist Main Masterlist

Hearing a few honks coming from outside, you grab your keys and small purse. You walk over to the mirror swiftly, checking yourself out one more time.

He has such a way with fashion.

You thought, admiring the silky wine-red dress that your boyfriend picked out for you. Of course, he didn’t stop there as he also bought a pearl necklace to match the white heels he bought you. You were a completely different person, unlike the one you normally see in the mirror every day. It made you smile and even brought you a new sense of confidence.

You made your way out the door of your apartment and cursed at yourself for not bringing at least a jacket. Sure it was Valentine’s Day— meaning you could dress as hot as you wanted, but it was still February. Still very cold.

“Cold, Princess?”

You looked up, your eyes meeting with your boyfriend who adjusted his glasses softly. He gave you a soft smile and opened the car door, grabbing a large bag from the seat. He walked over to you and grabbed your hand, assisting you down each step until you came to eye level.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Darling.”

He held out the bag in front of you, insisting you open it right there. Big letters were written on the side, making your eyes widen a bit as you read them.

“Coach??!! Jongho, I can’t accept this.”

He shook his head and grabbed your hands, wrapping them on the straps of the bag so he could let go. He gestured once more for you to open it, smiling towards you.

“It’s yours. No ifs, ands, or buts. You know I love to spoil you.” he spoke softly.

You blushed softly and nodded your head. You opened the gift bag and moved the black wrapping paper to the side, making a small gasp as you realized what was enclosed. Pulling out a cream-colored trench coat, you immediately fell in love. It was lined with white faux fur along the ends of the sleeves, as well as the collarbone and down the opening. Jongho grabbed the jacket from you and helped you put it on, giving you a minute to process. It was warm and well-fitted. It complemented you well.

Jongho always knew the right things to get you, even when to get them. You weren’t sure of how, but you were always unbelievably grateful for it.

“You look lovely, y/n. As always.”

Your face flushed red as he opened the passenger door to the car, gesturing for you to take a seat. Jongho closed the door and made his way to the driver's side. He took a seat, fastened his seat belt, and began to drive while placing a hand on your thigh. You felt your face heat up from shyness as your heart beat out of your chest. He caressed it slightly as he drove through the streets of the city, humming a tune softly to himself.

“Are you ready for tonight, my love?”

Jongho glanced at you slightly before quickly darting his eyes back to the road. Turning your head toward him a bit, you nodded smiling, curious as to what he had in store for you. The plan was a high-class restaurant that Jongho regularly goes to with his members but this time around, he finally wanted to take you.

You felt an immense amount of joy swell within your heart over this. How the date barely even started and he’s already done so much for you, from the outfit to the wonderful gift. Now a high-class restaurant? How could you ask for more?

You softly wiped your face with a napkin, taking another sip from the glass of wine that sat by your plate on the table. Jongho held your other hand from across the table, smiling happily at the performers on stage.

The performance ended with the sound of various claps and cheers filling the room. It was a lovely evening, many people took the stage whether that was simply background music or entire performances as a whole. You could see why Jongho had enjoyed coming here. Why he felt one with the music and performers that went on. Everyone had to start somewhere right?

“Hey, I’m just gonna use the bathroom real quickly, if that’s okay.”

You looked over to Jongho, slowly getting up from the chair. He smiled and nodded pointing to where the bathroom was. You walked over to him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, surprising him. His face quickly flushed red as it was usually himself who pursued public displays of affection.

“Thank you for what this night has been so far. I appreciate it Jjong.” You squeezed his shoulder softly as he beamed up at you.

Making your way towards the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice the people around as you passed through. You knew how high-class this restaurant would be, but you never expected it to be this high. Many of the people who sat at tables were dressed head to toe in name-brand fashions, all with the highest quality fabrics. It made you a bit nervous to think if you were underdressed.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you opened the bathroom door and walked over to the sink. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you reminded yourself of who had gotten you your outfit. Jongho would never go out of his way to embarrass you. He only picks the best of fashion for himself, why wouldn’t he do the same for you?

You shuffled through your purse to find your lip gloss and begin to touch up your lips in the mirror. A few girls entered the bathroom, discussing amongst themselves the kind of the night they’d had. They quietly lit up cigars in the corner of the bathroom as you finished touching up the remainder of the makeup needed.

As usual, you remained aware of your surroundings, being observant of the girls standing by you. They both were relatively tall, maybe 5’7 and 5’9. One girl wore a long and tight black velvet dress, a black feather boa surrounding her arms. She had a short blond bob that fell just to her shoulders. The taller girl wore a light blue silky dress, two slits coming up the sides of her legs. She had long black waves coming past her shoulders, with curtain bangs framing her face.

“There’s one performance left, right?”

You began to place your makeup back in your small purse, turning on the faucet to wash your hands.

“Ah, yes I believe so! I hear it’s a good one.. rumor has it, it’s the masked singer who’s been performing every weekend!”

Your ears perked up at this sentence, unsure of if Jongho had ever mentioned a ‘masked singer’ to you. It sparked your curiosity and even pushed you a bit to ask the women who they talked about. Why hasn’t Jongho mentioned this to you? It was just a normal performance, right? So what was so special about it?

“What do you think he’ll perform tonight? I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day. He would have to perform a romantic ballad right?”

You grabbed a paper towel to dry your hands as the girls continued to smoke in the corner. Walking over to the trash, you tossed the napkin in the bin and began to head towards the door. Of course, you didn’t want to intrude on their conversation, but most importantly, you didn’t want to reek of cigars.

The shorter girl shrugged in response, taking another hit from the cigarette, before turning to look at you. She noticed you getting ready to leave and called out for you, making you stop in your tracks.

“Hey, you! You came here with that guy right?”

You turned to them slowly and nodded your head, proceeding to twiddle with your fingers.

The girls smiled at you, making their way over to you. They looked at each other and tossed their cigarettes into the sink. The shorter of the two placed her hands on your shoulders, cocking her head at you.

“He comes here pretty often, you have a good guy! Doesn’t talk to anyone, especially girls, except his friends when he comes!”

She took a step back and admired you for a second before the taller girl began to speak. The taller girl rolled her eyes as she pushed her friend out of the way.

“Don’t take what she said the wrong way. Enjoy yourself, and enjoy your date. Anyone would be beyond lucky to have him and it happened to be you.”

The taller girl turned you around, pushing you towards the door.

“Now go!! You don’t want to keep him waiting, he’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long!”

Before getting a chance to say anything in response, you found yourself inside the restaurant once again. The lights were dimmed as people began to take their final seats and talk amongst themselves. Walking back to your table you heard small conversations of ‘the masked singer’ that you heard of previously. After that weird encounter with the girls, you too grew curious about who this 'masked singer' was. The more you hear about it, the more you hoped for the time to pass so that you could know. Not only that but as to why the women admired your boyfriend as closely as they did. Why they had admired the both of you tonight.

Was it just some weird coincidence that they happened to be in the same bathroom with you at the same time? That they just happened other recognize you just because you came with Jongho tonight?

Billions of thoughts clouded your head as you found your seat, only to find that Jongho was not there. You sat down and looked around, wondering if maybe he had stepped away for a bit, possibly using the bathroom too. However, he was nowhere to be found.

"Where did he go.?” You thought to yourself.

You grabbed your phone from your purse, sending him a quick text in hopes of a response. You didn’t like to be alone in a new environment for long.

You: “Jjong? Where did you go?”

You heard a small buzz coming from the table. Looking back at his seat, you saw his phone sitting by the glass of champagne, untouched. It lit up with a picture of both of you on the lock screen and of course, a text from you.

You sighed rolling your eyes as you put your phone down. Wherever Jongho was, you wished that he’d get here soon, as you didn’t want to be left alone. Especially in a place this big. You looked around one more time, feeling like a lost child in a supermarket as you hoped to see him approaching you from somewhere. Only to feel hopeless.

The restaurant grew silent as footsteps were heard walking onto the stage. A small light arose on the figure who stood on stage. He held onto the microphone that sat in the mic stand as he looked around the restaurant. Your eyes fixed on him; he wore a black and gold mask as if he were at a masquerade ball. His outfit was similar to Jongho’s, suit and tie with the white button down under the vest.

Your eyes widened at the realization. The outfit, the hair, the fact that he was not at all back to his seat.

That was Jongho.

A soft piano melody began to fill the entire restaurant as people tuned in towards the stage. It felt like a daydream hearing his soothing voice fill your ears. How silent the room was for him. How pleased your body felt to hear him. You knew Jongho could sing, but never like this. It was completely different. He hit every note so effortlessly, not even the slightest bit of strain within his voice.

The longer the song went on, you paid attention to every lyric. How well he pronounced them. However, it intrigued you. The more you paid attention to the lyrics, the more you began to realize that he was singing to you. It was only that clear, wasn’t it?

He locked eyes with you from across the room, smiling as he sang. You nodded in return, assuring him that you were listening not only to him but to every lyric that came out of his mouth. You held your face in your hands as you grew mesmerized by his singing. It was like you were being swooned by a siren. It seemed that Jongho was one. He lured you further in with his voice. Who wouldn’t react the same?

Your heart filled with love as you closed your eyes to take in the song. Slowing down what would be such a quick moment between you two. You knew Jongho loved you, dearly. He never failed to express that towards you. However, this time felt different. It felt like the first time.

The very first time he told you he loved you on that summer day. Where you both spent hours on the beach constantly pushing each other under the water. It’s a moment you constantly replayed in your head, only because it was so precious to you.

Jongho wasn’t one to normally express his feelings towards anyone, so it surprised you. And this? This greatly surprised you. For him to perform an entire song dedicated to sharing his feelings towards you, was surreal.

As the performance began to end, you shuffled through your purse, looking for tissues to pat your eyes dry. Rounds of applause surrounded you, as people whistled and even gave a standing ovation towards Jongho. It dawned on you knowing that this was something he did once every week. How the restaurant was always eager for his performances, why they talked amongst themselves about him.

“Tissue, my love?”

You raise your head slowly to see a small pack of tissues being held out in front of you. Jongho took out a piece of tissue and patted your eyes softly, careful not to ruin or smudge your makeup. You looked up at him as he smiled at you, feeling a sense of safety within him.

He took a seat in front of you and grabbed your hand, kissing it softly. Leaning in towards you, he locked eyes with you, leaving a small amount of space between you two. Your eyes widened at how closely he came to you. He tilted his head softly before opening his mouth to speak.

“Well? What did of think of my performance?” he asked.

Awaiting your answer, your face heated up from how closely he sat in front of you. Your eyes continuously darted away from his strong gaze, but you nodded quickly, as you didn’t want him to take it as you avoiding his question entirely.

"Good, you deserve it. Remember that for me okay, princess?"

You smiled and nodded softly, looking away from him.

He placed his hand under your chin, cupping it. Moving your face to meet his, he leaned in a bit which caused you to do the same. You two shared a passionate but short kiss, leaving Jongho to place small kisses on your cheek and forehead right after.

Getting up from the chair, he grabbed your things and held a hand out for you to take, signaling that it was time to leave. You put back on your jacket and grabbed his hand, making your way out of the restaurant and back to the car. Jongho held the door open for you as you got in, placing your purse on your lap. He walked around the car and came over to the driver’s side to take a seat. Closing the door, he fastened his seatbelt and started the car while putting a hand on your thigh.

“I love you.”

You looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. He remained facing forward with a small smirk appearing on his face. Your face flushed red as you placed your hand over his, giving it a small squeeze. He turned to face you, his smirk now turning into a gushy smile.

“I mean it, y/n. I really do love you, with everything in me.”

You brought your hand up to his face and caressed it softly with your thumb. You titled your head at him as he rested his in your hand.

“I love you too Jjongie. Thank you for everything today. It means so much.”

You paused and placed a soft kiss against his forehead, going back to holding his hand on your lap. He sighed in relief and glanced at your features once more before preparing to start driving.

“You’re my everything,” he spoke, squeezing your hand subtly.

divider creds: @cafekitsune

A/N: i’m SOOOO sorry for how long it took to upload this! It was a very stressful 3 weeks to say the least 😭. But we’re finally done! I hope you guys enjoyed. I will be working on more content soon❤️ leave requests if you when any!

taglist: @skzline @evidive @kittykat-25 @amuromio @xoxkii @losrpark @classyrbf @sundaybossanova @owmoiralover @vrtualsins @sanslovesblog @honeyhwaaa @mingisbbokari @scarfac3

*comment to be apart of future taglists!*

[allureasdiary]

Allurea's Cutessentials

♡ Rose Gold/Pink Gold Accessories

♡ Pink, Black, Browns, White & Purple

♡ Fur

♡ Shimmer & Soft sparkles/glitter

♡ Stripper tease Platforms/High heels

♡ Silk & lace + lace hems

♡ Cheetah/Leopard print

♡ Sheer fabrics

♡ frills & ruffles

♡ newspaper boy hats/y2k berets

♡ lipgloss (clear, nude, blood red, black & pink)

♡ Gourmand bakery scent notes

♡ medium length soft sparkle French tips (sometimes short)

♡ Coffin, stiletto & Almond shaped nails

♡ Micro mini skirts/shorts + mini skirts, low raise bottoms

♡ Capri pants

♡ Flare bottoms & tops

♡ cute tracksuits

♡ Juicy couture

♡ Coach bags

♡ Bunny/Playboy bunny accessories

♡ Butterflies

♡ Hearts

♡ Dainty Diamonds

♡ Agent Provocateur lingerie

♡ Smoky/dark eyes

♡ Long eye covering bangs

♡ Honey blonde/brown hair color & silky Jet Black (almost looks dark blue or very deep purple)

♡ Vs angel Bombshell curls, bone straight hair & wet curls

♡ butt and/or ankle length hair

♡ Innocent & slutty aesthetic

♡ Manga eyelashes

♡ Large Bows (ribbon/silk/sexy male boss ties)

♡ Glitter & Gel ink in pinks

♡ Afros/large hair

♡ hello kitty, kuromi & my melody

♡ bratz dolls

♡ glitter/sparkly tanned skin

♡ blushy undereyes

♡ name plate & signature letter chain

♡ princess tiaras

♡ signature bags & purses (ex: large juicy couture hand bags, Victoria secret tote bag, coach cross body purse in brown, fur handbags, etc)

♡ lacey & see through hoisery socks, thigh/knee/ankle lacey and/or sexy socks

♡ frilly & lacey thigh garters

♡ strawberry & cherry flavored bubblegum/lollipops

♡ glitter/shimmery hair highlights/streaks

♡ bodycon dress/well fitted dresses

[groundzerosgirlfriend]

A Girl on A Boy's BasketBall Team

Chapter 1: A Meeting With Red & Blue

E/n- Enemy Name

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to be the best right?"

"If anything it's in our genetic coding as humans."

"Strive for the best and you'll become the best."

Bright florescent gym lights that leave you partially blind, obnoxious tennis shoes squealing and squeaking as they slide and glide across the freshly waxed floor, the smell of sweat and B.O from teenage girls that desperately try to forget it exists by drowning it with overly flowery perfume and wayyy to minty gum, the crash of the rim as another basket is made scoring 2 more points, it's all so tantalizing.

So why? Why am I currently being yelled at by my coach, as my "teammates" whisper and jeer at me in the corner of the gym? Those sluts, with their toothpaste ad smiles and their gold flaked nails I'll show them who to laugh at when I dunk on their asses. They aren't even fucking good at the game, they only play for attention, to scared to break a nail or even to much of a sweat.

"This is the 3rd backboard your daughter has broken in a month." Your coach grumbles bitterly, fidgeting her foot up and down on the maple floor planks "The school really can't afford to keep replacing these monthly. 

"Can't we jus' send a check to the school to replace the backboards." Your mother suggests boredly, as she pulls out a spare checkbook from her pocket scribbling numbers and scrolling through her phone simultaneously.

"Well it's not only that... your daughter she's an awful team player, she refuses to pass the ball to anyone else, all her teammates feel neglected on the court" Your coach backs away, her eyes longing yet, hesitantly rejecting the check your mother is waving towards her in her hand."But their winning right." Your father queries, cutting your coach's complaints short. "My princess's team is bringin' home the gold every time." Your dad rubs the top of your head playfully smushing your hair in the process as you whine and stomp for him to quit it. He obliges to your request of course, but not smacking you lightly on the back of your neck causing you to jump away from him.

"How many points did you score in practice today hunnie." Your mom scribbles more numbers on the checkbook paper after examining it again. "38 points mum." You fiddle with the hem of your jersey shirt nervously already knowing what to expect.

Your mother gives you "the glance" and clicks her teeth, not in disappointment you've come to understand, but more so in encouragement. "You can do better than that hunnie."

"Your mother is right princess, we need at least 50 points per session practice or not." Your father hands you 38 dollars from his brown leather wallet tucked away in his back pocket, to which you gladly accept. "Yeah I know, but it ain't my fault Coach, wouldn' let me play at all." You point your finger and blame accusingly at your Coach, who's face has begun to morph into annoyance from being ignored and spoken over.

"No excuses hunnie." Your mother places phone down and digs her free hand into her purse to hand you 38 dollars as well. "Fine..." You place the two sets of money in your wallet and groan slipping it into your sports bra. "Moving on ladies."

Your father breaks the tension in the area with his signature grin. "My princess will see you tomorrow right at practice right Coach." Your father gives the woman an even toothier grin along with a smooth chuckle, causing your "teammates" to swoon in unison, as he takes the check from his wife. "We'll jus' drop this off at the front desk and take our leave."

 "Coach did you tell 'em yet."

"The team is ready to start practice again." A snobbish voice is heard from behind your Coach. She averts her eyes nervously and rubs her hands together. "I'm letting them know right now E/n."

 "Oh, hi Mr. and Mrs. L/N." A girl with long silver hair tied in a high ponytail with a black ribbon strides over to your Coach standing beside her confidently. Her hands were placed sassily on her waist, hiding a mischievous smirk. She shoots daggers through her eyes at you for a moment as you both make eye contact, and quickly turns to smile sweetly at your Coach and parents. "Well hurry, we're all ready to finish the quarter." 

"Let us know what?" Your mother questions, as you hand your schoolbag over to your father, who willingly takes it. Your coach clears her throat awkwardly, the whole room becoming deathly quiet. Slowly, you rummage through your mother's handbag for a stick of gum, placing the wrapper back into her bag.

She gives you another "glance" this time more fed up, and snaps her fingers rapidly. "What were you lettin' us know Coach." Your mother slides a pair of encrusted shades onto her face.

"We have places to be, my daughter needs a new pair of sneakers for next week's game and has a photoshoot in a few hours."

"Your daughter's off the team." Your coach says bluntly, as you hear E/n and the entire team snicker. "What the hell are you sayin' Coach." The dribbling of a basketball in your hand starts, as you raise an eyebrow at your coach waiting on a response. "All of your teammates think your a selfish player Y/N, and I'd rather lose one player rather than the whole team."

"So until you can prove that your ready to treat this team and I with some respect and sportsmanship you're off the team."

"Tch, really Coach is that how it is." "You're gonna' get rid of your most valuable player." The ball your dribbling rolls away from you, and E/n snatches it, spinning it around on her pointer finger, a fake sense of disappointment that you can detect from a mile away radiating from her voice.

"Maybe you shouldn't have been so selfish angel~." You ball your fists in pure anger, hissing your teeth loudly. "Don't call me that you skank." Your father rests a hand on your shoulder "Calm down princess."

"But father I-" Your sentence is cut short. "Let it be, if your off the team, it's final." Your mothers says bluntly, as a lump forms in your throat and you excuse yourself outside. You swing the gym doors open, ignoring the cruel headache inducing laughs of your teammates.

And in a fit of rage you punch a wall over and over, the jagged surface bruising your knuckles. "It's not fair." "Not fair." "Not fair." Not fair." You mumble repeatedly, turning around and leaning against the wall you had just finished assaulting.

You slump down onto the floor and bury your head in your arms. "Why do it matter, if I'm a team player or not." "They shoulda been grateful I was on they shitty ass team anyway." "That stupid skank E/n, has nothing better to do obviously." You hear the crunching of gravel as footsteps approach you and quickly you assume them to be your parents, but blinded by anger, you don't look up from your self-pity.

Two presences tower over you as you sit huddled in a ball, rudely snap at the figures. "What the hell do y'all want, I don't need no lecture or nothin'" "It's obvious yall didn't mind lettin' me get kicked of the team so go away."

"You've got the wrong people." A voice scoffs. Even more annoyed, you look up to see a tall and muscular red-headed man? His aura is quite intimidating as he looks down at you. "I'm not supposed to talk to older men." You bury your head in your arms once again.

"What the hell!" "I'm a teenage boy, do you not see the uniform." He grabs your hand and places it on his school uniform. "Whateva.. and tell your friend to stop standin' behind me like a weirdo." You pull your hand away and pick yourself up off the ground and turn around to see a pale boy with light blue hair.

"You noticed I was behind you." The blue-haired boy speaks quietly, his straight face matching his tone of voice. "Of course I did, you ain't Casper the ghost or sum shit." You look at him confused "I think I'm jus' gonna go, yo crazy asses."

"Before you do, why were you crying and punching that wall." The blue haired boy asks you. Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, realizing that they saw your tantrum a few minutes ago. "Can we go know, I'm starving." The red haired "boy" grumbles obviously bored, as the blue haired questions you.

"In a second." The soft voice protests, waiting for your response. "I don't tell strangers my personal life." You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. "Well my name is Tetsuya Kuroko and that over there is Taiga Kagami, we're both middle schoolers from Seirin High."

"Dude don't tell random chicks my name." The red boys yells at him, as you look at him a bit skeptically, squinting your eyes. "You sure his ass is in highschool, blink twice if you need help." Kuroko cracks a soft grin.

"No, no he's a teenager." Kuroko reassures softly, causing you to sigh softly as you sit back in the ground where you were previously. "That's good, thought the old man was gonna kidnap me or something." Kagami yells at you again, as he rants about how he's not an old man. 

All you do is grin at him, until he gets bored and rolls his eyes ready to walk away. "Whatever, Kuroko let's go I'm starving." Kuroko nods and hold his hand out towards you. "You wanna join you look like you could use it."

A little stunned by his kindness your cheeks flush as you shrug "Why not, what's the harm in it."  As you grab his soft hands and follow the red and blue haired duo along, Kagami insists that Kuroko shouldn't have brought you along and that's he not an old man.

You can't help it, their chaotic energy is contagious so much so that you grin the whole walk.

So if anyone's to blame it should be these two.

Nobody should have let you meet red and blue.

[random-imagines-blog]

The Secret Place {Sirius Black x BlackWidow!Reader} Part ii

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 4649 Summary: The great Wizarding World War is over, but Sirius notices that the war within you is far from being finished. Notes: Contains murder, blood, darkness of red rooms Sequel to: The Secret Place

No more Voldemort. But that didn’t necessarily mean peace. 

You weren’t thinking about the different Death Eaters who had managed to escape the aurors and were out there, licking their wounds somewhere. You weren’t thinking about the werewolves and the vampires and the giants and the rolls who were always feuding among one another and causing trouble to all mankind. You weren’t even thinking about the day-to-day bad guys - the ones who will steal a purse and then run down the street, or the ones that think paying in small change is hilarious, or the perving gym coach, watching the teenage girls stretch. They were their own brands of evil, yes. But what you were thinking about, what you were always thinking about, was the Red Room. 

Grimmauld Place was one of the most protected residences in Britain, and yet, it always felt like it was not enough. That any day now, one of your former classmates was going to show up, ready to fight you. To drag you back.  

Sirius sensed your anxiety, no matter how well you hid it. He was the only one who had. People like Harry who stopped in often, they thought you were happy. You had a damn good poker face - but Sirius sensed it. Maybe it was the animal in him, the dog, that almost acted as an emotional support animal, and knew when you needed it. But regardless of how much he held you, tried to comfort you, tried to assure you that everything was going to be okay, you remained in that quiet, anxious state. It was getting bad. You wouldn’t tell him what was wrong, but you wandered the house every single night, recasting all of the protective charms. Not even an ant would be able to crawl through the tiniest space in your defenses. And not even a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore would be able to penetrate through. Which made him wonder - what, or who, were you so afraid of that you felt the need for these defenses to go up? A monster, an ex-boyfriend, family member, he just wanted some sort of answer, but you were mum. 

Day by day. You did your usual things. You smiled and laughed and tried to cheer up Harry when he would stop in to visit or would spend the night in the bedroom that Sirius had designated for him. You cooked and you cleaned, and you read books that he would pick up for you or that Hermione would leave laying around. But you went out even less often than before. Only if completely necessary - grocery shopping or the like. You loved Sirius, he felt that love from you every single day, the gratefulness that he had not been killed during the war against Voldemort. You made love to him, you cuddled up to him, you made jokes and laughed at his and yet - that heaviness was always there, encompassing.  

“Hey love,” Sirius said, after you had put down a cup of tea in front of him. Although he was happy with you, this feeling of you hiding something, something this serious, something that you were this afraid of, made him feel inadequate. That you didn’t trust him or have enough faith that he would be able to keep you safe. That’s all that he wanted. For you to feel safe with him. 

“Hmm?” You said, sitting across from him now at the dining room table. Now that this was no longer a house that supported a dozen or so people, he had switched the table to something smaller, more intimate, so that you were able to reach across and take his hand if you wanted to. This is what he wished for now, setting his teaspoon to the side and reaching out. You took his hand, and he relished the warmth, letting your closeness try to reset his equilibrium. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Your eyes darted straight to his as he asked that question. It felt like it came out of the blue. “Nothing. Why?” 

That question seemed so pointless to Sirius. He didn’t answer it, knowing that you would just use those pretty little lies - I’m fine, I haven’t been sleeping well, just a headache - as an excuse. Nothing is wrong, why couldn’t you just trust him with the truth? Why couldn’t you just paint a picture of what was wrong and see if he could fix it up? His frustration was growing, but as always, there wasn’t any point in arguing.  

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Sirius nodded, having a drink of his tea and leaned back in the wooden chair, looking up towards the ceiling. There had to be a way to know. How was he supposed to live his life without knowing what was haunting you? It was like it was haunting him now, some unknowable thing that was always creeping in the shadows, bringing them closer, dragging them over the mood of the couple.  

It was later that night that he came up with a plan. He was having trouble sleeping, his mind going from point to point to point. Where you said you came from - your accent - the way that you stretched and exercised every single day, keeping your body in the best shape possible - the way that you moved like every single motion was designed, practiced, controlled, the few times that he had seen you flinch and immediately go into attack mode. Your past - it was clearly not good. It affected your sleep, causing tossing and turning. Sirius then realized that the key was right there. Your dreams.  

The answer to everything was in your dreams. 

Though tired, he watched your face as your brow furrowed, as sweat beaded along your forehead, as your jaw clenched and your teeth grinded against one another. You never spoke though, as much as he lay there and tried to will you to. To say something, anything that would let him know what was going on with you. But if the dreams weren’t going to come out ... he was simply going to have to go in. 

Sirius Black wasn’t the best with potions. It had been a long time since he had to make one, considering how long he had spent in Azkaban where he wasn’t able to do any sort of magic except for shifting to keep his humanity intact. Some things, like spells, are muscle memory but potions are a lot more difficult, so he had to instill a little help from the cleverest little witch that he had ever known. Hermione Granger.  

He explained the situation in a letter to her. And a week later, an owl came with a vial of a potion. It was a transparent white, almost looking like watered down milk. When he smelled it, it even smelled like that, bringing back memories of Mrs. Potter heating up milk for hot cocoa when he and James were boys. He read the letter from the young witch that offered him good luck, and that you better not find out that she had been the one who made it. Even the witches and wizards who took down Voldemort were wary of your temper.  

All he had to do was put it in both of your drinks that night. It would go well with tea, so as the evening wound down into night, he put the kettle on the stove. You weren’t suspicious over anything, you weren’t watching him make the tea, you were just sitting on the loveseat, reading today’s Quibbler. It actually made him feel guilty, betraying your trust like this. But it was going to be for the best, he told himself. You could only get closer after this.  

He brought you tea in your favorite mug, the potion mixed in. He feels another stab of guilt inside of his stomach as you seem to suspect nothing at all, drinking it as normal. He’s struggling not to stare at you too much, trying to see if the potion is having any weird effect on you. But you sip your tea and read as usual, barely giving him a glance. The two of you lived in this comfortable silence. Sometimes, not a word needed to be said. 

“I think I’ll turn in a bit early,” you said, after your cup was empty. You got up from your favorite comfortable spot and kissed Sirius on the forehead, lips lingering gently.  

“I’ll wash your cup, love,” Sirius said, nodding at you, letting his eyes close with content at the feeling of your kiss. He was struggling to stay awake himself, but he had to in order for the spell to work. You had to fall asleep first - or else you would end up in his dream and the whole plan would become painfully obvious to you.  

“Thanks - see you in the morning,” you said, softly, and made your way to the bedroom that you both shared. He watched your back, his eyes trailing down your body. It was like that saying - hate to say goodbye but love to watch you go? He definitely enjoyed the sight of watching you walk away, getting an eyeful.  

He waited a few more minutes before getting up and picked up both mugs, bringing them to the kitchen and giving them a rinse the muggle way. Chores - something he’d gotten used to doing when Molly Weasley had basically taken over his house. And then he prepared himself mentally - taking a few deep breaths to keep him relaxed, keep the guilt and the jitters at bay. He was nervous, of course. You were brilliant. You might be able to tell that something was up once he appeared in your dream. 

He took a quick swig of Firewhiskey that he kept hidden underneath the sink, hidden among the dishtowels. At least, he thought it was hidden. You probably knew about it and let him have it. He sighed after swallowing the burning liquid, put it back away, and then made his way towards the bedroom, getting comfortable beside you. You were already out like a light, and he nuzzled his nose against your temple, kissing it sweetly. Taking in the smell of your hair. He fell asleep quickly that night too, for once not haunted by his own past - by his dead friend’s faces as soon as he closed his eyes. 

It didn’t feel like a dream. Even his own, though often serious, had something of whimsy to it. This didn’t. Everything was proper, in the right place, more like a film rather than a memory even. He was seeing things through your eyes, and everything was so sharp, in focus. You were handcuffed to a bed and a woman came around and soundlessly unlocked the cuffs. You were watching Snow White with a bunch of other girls, younger girls, barely even teenagers, reciting every word. 

It didn’t seem like any kind of school that Sirius had heard of. He understood boarding schools, considering Hogwarts, but this seemed different. There wasn’t any friendly chatter, there wasn’t any sense of warmth, and even the classes seemed stricter somehow. Like McGonagall times a thousand. And when it finally looked like things were looking up, some sort of sport that he had never heard of maybe - he got the shock of a lifetime. 

You were fighting. This wasn’t some brawl between two people who didn’t like each other. This was teacher-endorsed, actually trying to hurt one another for a grade. What the hell kind of school did you go to? You were punching this girl as if you were a professional boxer, both of you barely over ten years old. Your knuckles were bleeding from the impact, but your face remained stoic, nonchalant. The other girl retaliated with a kick to the stomach, making you back up two steps, but you were right back in there, punching her in the face, the chest. Blood was on the mat now, not just on the two of you. The other girl was down, and you knocked the wind out of her before dragging her up to her knees and wrapping your arms around her head like you were prepared to break her neck.  

But the worst part of it was your face. There was no expression in those eyes that he had come to know. When Sirius had seen people fight like that, there was always anger, some sort of flame inside of them that kept them going, kept them motivated. But you were going on a pure, unemotional drive. Like this was just a History of Magic test that you were doing.  

He was waiting for the teacher to call this off. He was looking at this stern looking woman and anticipating that she would step in at any moment. But all that she did was nod. And to his absolute horror, he heard the sickening crack as you broke the spine of your classmate and let go of her as she fell lifeless onto the mat.  

Sirius started to feel dizzy. He started to feel sick. But he was stuck in this dream now and had to try to compose himself. He thought he had seen the worst that he was ever going to see. He knew you were a killer now - he knew that you had done at least one horrible thing. But this was not the end.  

You were older now. Right in the middle of those teenage years, you didn’t seem to have gone through an awkward phase. Instead, you looked absolutely radiant. You were in the middle of a group of girls your age, dancing elegantly. He had no idea that you could do ballet. When you danced with him, it was always up close, holding one another, perhaps a bit of a waltz. But here you were, less graceful than controlled. One girl stumbled just a little beside you and your instructor called for you all to start again. Through the whole dance. This happened repeatedly. One teeny tiny mistake and you all paid for it until you were absolutely perfect. It must have been hours, but of course in the dream, it only felt like a matter of a couple of minutes. Your toes were bleeding through your shoes. But you dared not let the pain show on your features. The same blank stare that you had shown when you had killed your classmate.  

A girl slipped on the blood on the floor. You were not the only one bleeding. Except she really tripped. Fell. Sprawled onto the ground. It looked as if her leg was broken now, bent at an odd angle, and she was looking right up at you, a spark of helplessness in her expression. You didn’t even look at her. You just started up the dance from the beginning, despite your agony, despite the fact that two women came in and dragged the fallen girl out of the room, despite the mess on the floor. Controlled - you were so damn controlled. 

And then further proof that you were a killer. Two different men. Or at least, he assumed they were men. Both of them wore suits, both of them had heavy thatched bags upon their heads, hiding their identity. One, you shot directly in the heart with a muggle gun, the sudden bang making Sirius jump. And the second - you had your wand pointed directly to the man’s chest and you said the cursed spell. Avada Kedavra.  

But the worst was saved for last. He could handle seeing you hurt others, as horrifying as it was. It all looked like things that you were forced to do in whatever school that you had been put in. It looked like a war, and people were forced to do horrible things in war. Kill or be killed. But now - now he was seeing you hurt. Now he was seeing that control slip for the first time in memory disguised as a dream.  

You were strapped down onto a gurney, clearly put under the body binding spell, since your body wasn’t fighting but your mind clearly was. Your eyes were wandering in every direction, catching onto anyone who walked by with the hopes that they could stop whatever was going to be happening. But no one helped. Everyone looked away from you, leaving you to your fate. Your teeth started to grind together, the only thing that you could do in this state, and your eyes were blinking away tears - not of sadness, but of hatred. Especially towards the strict looking woman who was pushing the gurney through the halls, parading you and what they were about to do to you. 

Sirius did not speak Russian. Hell, he hardly spoke Latin and that was the language that most of the spells were in. He wasn’t the most studious sort, skating through Hogwarts with charm ... and Remus’s help, who was the smartest out of the four of them. So, he didn’t know what any of the symbols that hardly looked like letters meant. He couldn’t understand the signs that were on the walls, or on the final door that you were put through. But he could recognize a medical facility when he saw one.  

A surgery room. Extremely clean, like everywhere else in the school. Sterilized. Although this was a memory, a dream, he could smell the strong scent of rubbing alcohol. The woman who brought you in left and a female surgeon stepped forward, whispering to you in Russian. You spoke back, your angry tone, standing up for yourself, he assumed. Your hospital gown was opened, you weren’t even given anesthetic. There was no spell put upon you to take away your pain. Just restrain you. He could see the pain in your eyes as a cut was made near your belly button, and then he could look no more. Could only turn and look at the wall, his hand over his mouth, running over his fine facial hair, in horror. He knew almost nothing about medical stuff, but he got a good idea of what they were doing. Tubal ligation. 

That made him feel sicker than all of the killing, the blood, the control, combined. Seeing that choice being taken away from you. Seeing you in actual pain was the worst thing that he had ever seen in his life. He wanted out of this now. He started to panic in a way that he hadn’t since he had heard that his best friend was dead, heard that he was being arrested for the murder of another friend. He couldn’t stay in that space anymore, and so he stumbled towards the door, opening it and -- 

He woke up. He was greeted with the darkness of his room, as dawn hadn’t yet come. He instinctively felt for you next to him and was relieved that you were there. That you were coming out of those horrible memories yourself now. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest so that his own sorrowful face wouldn’t be the first thing that you saw.  

Over the next couple of days, you said nothing. You didn’t give away that you knew what he had done. You treat him normally and yet, at the same time, you seem to be closing up. That almost glassy stare that he had seen in the dream, in your memories, is starting to come back and that terrifies him beyond belief. Both wizarding wars that he had been a part of hadn’t scared him as much of the idea of you slipping out from his fingers and becoming whatever that Russian facility had wanted you to become. 

You made the meals, you tidied up, you ran your errands and you read a lot. You corresponded with friends, you dutifully kissed Sirius on the cheek before you made your way to bed. But you didn’t look Sirius in the eyes anymore, and you didn’t cook anything that needed a lot of concentration, and your letters were all shorter than usual and you didn’t enjoy your late-night tea with him anymore. You stayed in bed longer.  

Sirius Black couldn’t live like this any longer. 

Instead of letting it be a quiet dinner while the two of you sit there and listen to the silence, he spoke up. “I - was in your dream the other night. I saw everything.”  

You sipped slowly at your tea, putting the mug down next to your fork, your plate half finished. You took a slow inhale through your nose, and as it came out of your mouth, it was shaky. Your shoulders started to tremble. All that it took was him mentioning the dream, and you were starting to spiral. His eyes went wide, and his hand reached out towards your shoulder, settling on it, trying to make it calm down. Trying to make you calm down. But instead, you angrily brushed him off of you, as if he was a piece of lint. It took everything in him to tell himself that you were going through something that he could never understand, and that hopefully you weren’t mad at him, just the situation. 

“How could you...” You started to say, but you broke apart before you could finish your sentence. Your hands went in front of your face, and Sirius assumed it was to try to hide your vulnerability. You never let him see you cry. You never let anyone see you cry.  

“I - had to,” Sirius said, putting his hand on you again, and this time, you didn’t brush him off. “I had to know what was going on, so that I could find a way to help. You’ve been so distant lately, love, and I just wanted to bring you back to me.” 

You wiped your eyes, your cheeks splotchy, skin puffy, the whites of your eyes were red. “N-no, that’s - not what I meant,” you said, your voice hoarse already. Lower in tone. Vulnerable. You weren’t as put together as you usually were. You weren’t holding everything in anymore, and - though you looked exposed to the world right now, he thought that you had never looked more beautiful. “I meant - how could you still be here?” 

This question made him dumbfounded. He moved his chair in closer to yours, the squeaking overtaking any sound that you were making. It would have been humorous under any other occasion. “Where else would I be?” 

“Anywhere. Far from here? I knew you were in my dream Sirius; I saw you there. I saw you in my memories. I was just - waiting for you to leave-” 

His confusion was evident, and he didn’t try to hide it. Not even when you looked over at him. But now, he was also feeling the hurt of your words. They cut through him like a knife as he read into what it was that you were saying. “You want me to go? You want me to leave you?” He asked, his hurt turning into anger, as it did with most men. “All because I wanted to find out what was wrong? No, y/n, this is my house, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Will you just let me finish?” You sighed, taking a deep and wary breath. “I was waiting for you to leave because how can you stand to be around me, knowing what I did? I know exactly what you saw, and all of it was real, Sirius. Every kill that you saw me do, every exercise in control, and -” This was when you really started to feel overwhelmed, and you couldn’t even lift your hands to your face to hide it, they were shaking too hard. “The surgery... Sirius, how can you love me after seeing all of that? How can you sleep next to me and now be repulsed? How-" 

Sirius reached to you with the back of his hand, lightly caressing it against your cheeks, making your mouth close again. It was such a soft and reassuring feeling, those tattooed fingers. No longer with the dirty and broken nails due to all the good care that you gave him, the help you gave him when you first met back in Hogsmeade. 

“It’s easy. It’s the easiest thing in the world to love you. And it’s not things that you have done, my love, it’s things that you were put through. I know you. I see you every day, and I see how this haunts you, but it isn’t you.” 

Tears were pouring down your face at an exponential rate, and he was catching them with his fingers on your cheek. “You really - you really still love me?” 

“More than ever,” Sirius admired your face as he said this. You showed more emotion now than you did in the memories, save for when you were being carted off to the surgical room. This showed that you were not the person that they had made you be. Not entirely. 

“I love you too,” You whispered. It was rare that you said it, even though you felt it through every bit of your being. You’ve been taught for so long, had it drilled into you, that emotions were a weakness, and should only be shown for manipulation purposes. But you were defenseless to this feeling right now. “I love you so much, I - I was so scared that you were going to leave me, to think that I’m a monster.” 

“Only in the mornings before you had your tea,” Sirius said, getting just the slightest chuckle out of you. He continued to hold his hand against your face, even when he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss onto your lips. You breathed in the scent of his shampoo, his mustache lightly tickling the skin above your lip, and you deepened it, ready to do more than tell, but to show.  

Your love. Your appreciation. Your gratitude. Your fears. Your desperation. 

They all showed as you moved in closer to Sirius, rounding the table to sit in his lap and just have him hold you for a couple of minutes, lips never leaving one another's. He was more than happy to do so, a thumb rubbing against your hip, holding you safely and securely. 

After a couple of minutes, you leaned your forehead up against his, looking down at the thin space between you. “That’s not the only reason I’m afraid, Sirius. I deserted them. I couldn’t take it anymore. And there’s no way they’re just letting it go, no matter how much time has passed. I know they’re looking for me and I’m terrified that any day they’re going to show up and -” Your breath hitched in your throat, and he held you a little closer. 

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said, his soothing voice tinged with seriousness. “And I’m not going to let anything happen to me either - I know that’s what you’re about to argue. You’ve been brilliant in keeping them from knowing your location so far, and we’ll keep managing. You’re not in this alone. We take care of each other, remember?” 

You nodded, and he felt relieved at that. No arguing, no buts, no ifs, no conditions. You were just accepting it now, and you even looked alleviated by his words. Like the weight of the world had just been taken off your shoulders. 

“I love you,” you said, again, for the third time tonight - which was probably your new record.  

“I love you too,” he replied, and knew that he would never, ever be sick of hearing, or saying, those words. 

[starlitangels]

Spitfire - Part 2

Where did this come from? I don't know. I think I had some stuff I was working through? Part 1 1.9k words

Potential CW: gendered words like "dude" for a gender-neutral listener, in typical Huxley fashion; grief; emotional

—

Huxley paused in one of the big, open, empty corridors of the D.A.M.N. stadium. The damp towel fell limp around his neck where he’d been mopping sweat off his forehead. It was still weird to be here. Two years since the Inversion. He’d graduated. Rented a house. Started a job. Began a relationship. Made a life. And he’d been in one of these very halls two years ago, pulling Damien along by whatever he could reach—an arm, a hand, a sleeve—and terrified out of his mind. While an army of shades killed everything and everyone in their path.

The memories flashed through his head, but they weren’t why he stopped.

Somewhere nearby, he could hear the telltale roar of flames. The kind that only Fire Elementals were strong enough to harness, given the volume.

Scrunching his eyebrows, he followed the sound. His rubber-soled sneakers made little noise on the concrete floor. Expertly repaired after all the damage Earth Elementals caused trying to make shields from the shades.

The stadium had a lot of extra rooms besides the main arena. Offices for coaches, locker rooms, practice rooms, a gym full of equipment, and a gymnasium with lines for basketball and volleyball on the wood floor. Where Huxley had come from, invited to play some basketball with his old teammates who’d been younger than him.

Huxley knew it all intimately. He mostly played out on the outdoor field for the tokenrun team, but he worked out a lot in the stadium during his time at the academy.

Turning a corner, he could see one of the practice rooms had a light on.

No. Not a light. There was bright fire burning inside. The glow pouring out of the slit window in the door was too unstable to be an overhead light.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he moved forward and peeked into the window. Maybe it was just because of Damien, but he’d always been fascinated watching the way Fire Elementals displayed control.

Illuminated by red-orange light, throwing arms around with so much fire churning it was difficult to see past, was a familiar figure.

Huxley watched for several long moments—until the fire subsided. The figure bent and scooped up a water bottle.

He eased the door open. “Spitfire?” Huxley asked.

Xavier’s partner. Who’d survived the Inversion when Xavier hadn’t.

—

I whirled around, nearly dropping my bottle. “Huxley! What… why… you graduated!”

He scrunched his eyebrows. “Didn’t you? I thought you were supposed graduate last year. You were only one behind me and X.”

I tilted my head to one side, pursing my lips. “I was supposed to. The… the Inversion. Losing… losing him. I had to take a semester off. I took the spring semester to… recover. And I never do summer semesters.” The flame that had lingered around my other hand snuffed out, casting the room in darkness, lit only by the hallway light through the open door behind Huxley. “Then, the next semester—Fall—I failed two classes. Wasn’t fully ready to go back, apparently. So this should be my last semester. I’m just retaking those two classes now.”

“Still. Good on you, dude, for gettin’ it done.”

“Thanks, Hux.” I took a long swig of water and wiped sweat off my face on my tank top hem. “So, what are you doing here?”

“The guys from the team who were in the years younger than me invited me to come play basketball tonight. Heard your fire. Came to investigate. My, uh, my boyfriend is a Fire Elemental too. I like watching the way you guys control your magic.”

I perked up. “You have a boyfriend?”

Huxley looked down toward his sneakers. “Yeah. His name’s Damien. He was the same year as you.”

I threw my towel on the mat. “Wait. Damien. Fire Elemental Damien. Like, total Type A, never-skipped-a-workout-in-his-life, four-point-oh student, black hair—that Damien?”

Huxley’s eyebrows raised, startled. “Y-yeah. You know him?”

“Dude!” I laughed. “We were in the same year and we’re both Fire Elementals—we had, like, so many classes together!” I waved a hand, a flame igniting to light up the room again over it. “I mean, I was Fire Elemental Control and he was Full Certification but our upper division electives were all together for fire.” I took another big drink of water. “How the hell’s he doing?”

Huxley’s eyes unfocused. A small smile touched the corners of his lips. “He’s great,” he said. “It’s been a year and a half, now.”

“Whoa. I… I’m sorry that I… that I missed so much. I know you and I weren’t the closest and I always kinda kept to myself even with X right there but… I wanted to be better friends after…” I cleared my throat. “After.”

Huxley nodded. “Don’t worry. That’s on me too. I didn’t reach out as much as I should have.” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “You, uh… you find anyone new?”

I looked down at the fire burning over my entire free hand, making the shadows dance on the flame-retardant walls. “No. I haven’t really… been looking.”

“Hey,” he said in that soft but firmly supportive way he’d always had. “Nothin’ wrong with that. I know how special he was to you. Losin’… losin’ anyone you love is hard. And I know you mentioned that you two had talked about getting married… I didn’t mean to ask like I was putting pressure on you or anything.”

“I know, Hux. I didn’t think you meant it that way.”

He took one step into the room, rather than lingering in the doorway, one shoulder on the frame.

“I… I just want my friend to be happy.”

A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down. “I know, Huxley. I want that too.” Burning ignited behind my eyelids. But not the fiery kind. The watery kind. “And I know he’d want me to move on and be happy. I just… I can’t let him go. It feels like… like I’m disrespecting all the time we had together.”

Huxley held out his arms. I extinguished my hand and rushed at him, slamming into his torso and clinging to him in a hug.

“It—it’s been two years!” I sobbed.

“I know.”

“Why—why does it still hurt?”

“It’ll always hurt. That loss will keep hurting for as long as you love him. And you’ll probably never stop loving him. The grief never gets smaller. Life just… grows around it. Like… have you seen those pictures of, like, old bicycles that got stuck in tree trunks because the tree grew around it?”

I sniffed. “Yeah.”

“It’s like that. Your life grows around your grief, and then it gets the chance to bloom again. But that grief will always be part of your life, and its size doesn’t change.” He palmed the back of my head like a basketball and held it to his chest. “You just learn to live around it. And it’ll sit, tucked away and quiet, for a while. But it’ll always make reappearances. And that’s okay. That’s life. You were his little spitfire. He loved you—God, he loved you so damn much. Talked about you all the time. And that love will always stay with you. And there’s something beautiful in that too.”

I cried into his chest. “Thank you, Huxley.”

“Of course. You’re my friend. Even before I started openin’ up to the team, you were always nice to me.”

“Well, you were always so nice. How could I not be?” I managed a chuckle. I broke out of the hug and wiped my tears off my face with my tank top again. He had a big smile on his face. “I’m really glad you found someone who makes you happy, Hux.”

“Aw. Thanks, dude.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, if you want. Do… do you have plans for Thanksgiving? Your family is from Dahlia, aren’t they? You probably already do—”

“I actually don’t. My parents are going on a holiday cruise, and I have no desire to celebrate with the rest of my family. Why?”

“Well, me and my friends are doing our third Friendsgiving, day of. Damien does most of the cooking. He’s really good at it, too. I think Lasko is thinking about bringing his… well. They both work at the academy, but in different parts. And they’ve been going on dates but I’m not sure if they’re official yet. He’s bringing his… special person, I guess?” Huxley chuckled. “And then there’s the Freelancer and their boyfriend Gav. They used to be the hosts, but now that I’m renting a house, I’m gonna.”

“So, you, your boyfriend, you friend and their boyfriend, your other friend and his potential partner… and me.” I shrugged. “I don’t know if I could stomach seventh-wheeling, to be honest with you. But I appreciate the offer.”

“Just… think about it. If you’re lonely on the day, you’d always be welcomed by us.”

“I appreciate the offer,” I repeated. “I don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

He patted my shoulder. “Think about it. No pressure. I just don’t like thinking about you all alone in that house.”

“Thank you, Hux. You’ve got a good heart.” I took a few steps back so I was in the middle of the room again. “I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure Damien’s waiting for you to come home.” I swallowed tears that tried to spring back up at the passing thought that Xavier would never come home to me—and yet I was still f^&*ing waiting—and forced a smile. “I’m gonna go back to practicing.”

Huxley took a step backward toward the door, and paused. “Can I watch? Two minutes?”

The smile wasn’t forced that time. “Sure. It’s nothing special. Just a project for my class.”

He plopped down on the mat, cross-legged.

I set my water bottle down on the mat and took a deep breath, centering myself. Feeling the warmth burning under my skin. Familiar. Comforting. My relationship to my powers was little different than average. I couldn’t passively keep myself perfectly warm in the winter like most Fire Elementals could, but I could still find relief in the blaze in my blood.

I could burn myself from the inside out if I let my emotions consume me like fire would.

Huxley gave me an encouraging smile.

Flames ignited in both palms, growing from apple-sized to plumes that clawed toward the ceiling in moments.

I moved my body like a dance, spinning and coiling fire all around the room. Carefully avoiding Huxley and my stuff.

Every all-consuming emotion poured into the inferno I churned in tightly-controlled circles around me. The grief. The sorrow. The frustration. The anger. It all burned away. It would refuel later, sure, but I could let it turn into smoke for now. Better to get it all out, find some relief, than just let it fester.

My whole body was tense until I finished the routine.

Huxley clapped. “Good job! That was awesome!”

The smile came even easier. More genuine. “Thanks, Hux. That means a lot more than I thought it would.”

—

Tag list: @pinksparkl

[linkemon]

Love on the low (Kaminari Denki x Reader) [Pokemon AU]

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ᴋᴀᴍɪɴᴀʀɪ ᴅᴇɴᴋɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]'ꜱ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴍᴘɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀʟᴀʀ ʀᴇɢɪᴏɴ. ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ, ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴛ, ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ɢᴏ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀᴄᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ?

[Reader] pursed her lips in anger. For the first time in a long time, she felt frustrated. She never thought today's match would end like this. She gave it her all. It seemed to her that she already had her opponent in her grasp. Meanwhile, her Inteleon was barely holding on to its long, thin legs. Its dorsal fin drooped. The Pokemon looked at her sadly. She knew she couldn't torment it any longer. His poor condition excluded him from further battle. He had held on for a long time just for her. He had been her friend since childhood. They had won championships together. Their hard training led her to the title of Galar Champion. People called her undefeated. She had reigned supreme for several seasons, never giving up victory to anyone.

And now this ordinary, average guy from Musutafu had destroyed everything. He had come and conquered gyms one by one. He stood before her with a wide smile. She couldn't stand him. Denki Kaminari might have looked good. He had golden hair that flowed gently in the wind and designer black clothes with a lightning bolt motif. Perfect for a coach who loved electric types but that didn't change the fact that his personality irritated the girl to no end. Unlike her, he enjoyed the atmosphere of this final. He didn't care about the crowd around them. He eagerly accepted every journalist in line. He was fiercely signing autographs. The bright lights of the stadium didn't blind him. He seemed to bask in them and shine. He loved the attention. It irritated her. If she could, she would want to play matches on regular grass. Without anyone's eyes judging her every step.

The teenager reluctantly reached into her pocket. She pulled the pokeball out in front of her. A bright light flashed for a moment. A moment later, Inteleon rested safely in the red and white ball. At the same moment, whistles and shouts echoed through the stadium. This time, not in her honour. They were cheering for the new champion and his Pikachu. The announcer announced the result of the battle. His words did not fully reach her but it did not matter. She knew what he would say. She quickly moved towards the goal. She did not want to look disappointed fans in the eye right now. Or answer the media's prying questions.

After she had handed her friend over to the nurses, she had hoped to get out of there as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it took a while. She listened patiently to the happy chatter of the women in pink dresses and aprons. She had taken the Pokémon as soon as they were done.  

She hadn't expected to see her rival in the lobby at all. She had been certain that he would be left to give interviews and bask in the attention he deserved. After all, he had won. And yet the boy was eagerly looking around for something... or someone. His head was darting left and right. He only stopped occasionally when someone passed by to congratulate him. Then little Pikachu would help him. The heroine of the day did exactly what her owner did.  

[Reader] adjusted Inteleon, curled up in her arms. He was definitely too old for this kind of fun but this one time she made an exception. She didn't want him to be in an even worse mood. He was as concerned about everything as she was. Maybe even more.  

She hoped to slip past Denki somewhere. She discreetly took a few steps. She turned her head, hoping that she would somehow manage it. Unfortunately, from behind her back she heard a cheerful voice:  

— There you are! I was hoping you hadn't left yet. You're very fast — the boy added. He was grinning from ear to ear the whole time.  

She would have given anything to wipe that expression off his face. It suited him. Happy, glowing. But for her it was too bright. It seemed to shine directly at her, a painful reminder of her defeat.  

Was he waiting for me? Strange — she thought. It seemed to her that he would hurry to enjoy his reward.  

— Are you a Lanturn? Because you are glowing!  

She grimaced. His list of pick-up lines was long. Each one more hopeless than the next. She had heard many of them. She knew he had served them to many women. The reaction of most was one of distaste. That would probably change now. Encouraged by the prospect of fame and popularity, they would surely flock to him.  

— What's the matter? — she asked, resigned.  

— I wanted to congratulate you — Kaminari extended his hand.  

— There's nothing to congratulate for — [Reader] said dryly, clutching his hand.

She wasn't happy with her performance. If she had worked harder, she would have won. She should have slept less and practiced more.  

— What are you saying! — Denki yelled in outrage. — You were as striking as Raichu!

He seemed extremely pleased with himself. She didn't know what to say, so she ignored his remark.  

— Is that all? — the girl asked, glancing towards the exit.  

— I was thinking we should set a date…— The teenager rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed.  

[Reader] congratulated herself. It was idiotic of her to agree to this whole bet. She had lost and now she would have to have a meeting with him that she had no desire to attend.  

— Let's do it now — she sighed.  

She pulled him by the hand toward the cafe. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.  

— You're fast as…

She didn't let him finish. She pressed a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. Unfortunately, it only worked for a moment. Better than nothing.  

She walked towards the counter. The room wasn't large. The glass windows showed the view in front of the arena. People were slowly leaving the building, heading to the streets of the city. Some were still waiting. Probably hoping to meet their new idol.

Some of the customers noticed who had come through the door. Kaminari gently waved them back. He didn't sign a single autograph. [Reader] gave him a questioning look.  

— I want to enjoy your company. You know... without distractions...— Red rose to his cheeks.  

The trainer turned her head. She didn't want to admit it to herself but it felt nice. He had given up what he loved to focus on her.  

She looked around. The pastel walls were decorated with photographs of previous winners. The light floor reflected the light. There were fresh flowers, napkins on the tables and small chairs. Quite cozy. Denki was deep in conversation with a girl behind the counter. His friend wore an apron as pink as her hair. She introduced herself as Ashido Mina. She looked from her to him with interest, scooping ice cream with a round spoon.  

— I can't believe that idiot managed to get a girl like that! — she said, handing over the cups.  

— We’re not…— [Reader] tried to correct that but quickly gave up. The energetic waitress had already moved on to a new topic, forgetting about her remark.  

Her companion's ice cream was yellow. That didn't surprise her. Orange, peach and mango. The perfect colours for him.  

They sat down at a small table against the wall. The former champion was poking around in her dessert with her spoon. She wasn't in the mood to talk. So she let Kaminari do all the work. He had enough energy to make up for her lack of enthusiasm. She felt a little embarrassed. She should have tried harder. In the end, she willingly agreed to the bet. In the meantime, she took the path of least resistance.  

At one point she felt something grab her leg. She squealed quietly, torn from her thoughts. She looked under the table and Denki looked with her.  

Pikachu wrapped around her calf. The yellow creature wore a funny black skirt. It was probably meant to be a set of clothes with her trainer. She didn't have one in the arena.  

The girl shook her leg slightly but the creature didn't let go. She snuggled up tightly, staring at her with round eyes.  

— Ummm… could you take her? — [Reader] asked, looking at the owner.  

— I can try but I don't know if I can do it — he said. — Listen... If you don't want to stay here, I won't make you. Pikachu hugs people she thinks are sad... Maybe I'm silly but I can tell when someone isn't having a good time around me. She'll probably leave you alone when you get out of here.

It was the first time in a long time that she had seen him become serious. It wasn't something she saw often. She had seen him a few times before the finale. But every time he had been goofy, flirty or both.  

Now he was sad. And that lack of upturned corners of his mouth somehow made her want to see them go up again.  

— You're right. — She put down her spoon. — I don't want to be here. — The light in his eyes seemed to dim at those words. But she decided to straighten things out. He deserved it. — It's about my loss. I guess I can't quite accept it. I feel like I've let everyone down. Starting tomorrow, everything will be different. It scares me. — Inteleon wrapped himself tighter around her neck. He could always tell when she was nervous.  

She was surprised at how much she had opened up to Kaminari. They hadn't known each other well or for long. His personality was completely different from hers. And yet, there was something about him that made her feel comfortable enough to share her concerns.  

Soon she would have to change her apartment. There was no point in renting a place so close to the stadium. She would no longer have to respond to challenges. No more being on the phone all the time, no more interviews, photos, autographs and meetings. Now everyone would ask questions. Will she come back next season? Does she regret it? What did she think of the championship? She didn't feel like making all these changes. Or the extra attention. She also had to decide whether she wanted to keep training. She could go back to work or start doing something completely new.  

Denki narrowed his eyes, glancing toward the hall.  

— Come with me. — He held out his hand to her.  

Hesitantly, she let him lead her. She didn't know what he was planning but he seemed confident.  

A small boy was sitting on one of the benches. He could have been only a few years old. His face was decorated with charming freckles. His green hair made him visible from a distance. He was furiously writing something in a notebook.  

— Hi, Izuku! — The Champion waved at him.  

The boy peeked out from behind the cover and widened his eyes. He must have been surprised. When he realized who was standing before him, his smile widened to its limits. [Reader] concluded that he must have been a Kaminari fan.  

— [Reader], this is Midoriya Izuku. Izuku, it's…  

— Oh my! Oh my! [Reader]! — he squeaked thinly. He stared at her with such adoration that she almost looked away.  

This surprised her. But she still wasn't sure why she had been brought here in the first place.  

Pikachu continued to stubbornly cling to her leg. Every now and then she would sigh quietly, "Pika, pika". Then she would go back to boring her cute little head into her body.  

— I'm your b-biggest fan... Oh, here... Here's your autograph. — He proudly showed a page from his notebook. — You played a su-super match today! And... I'm training with my Eevee too! I plan on defeating my friend someday. Katsuki wants to be a fire trainer, so I've been studying your water Pokémon techniques...

The flow of words continued. The former champion glanced away. Denki smiled gently.  

— You're not... you know, disappointed? I lost my title today. — She absently petted her blue friend.  

— Oh come on! — the boy protested. — You gave it your all. Everyone saw it. The people in the stands said you were great. And I think so too! — he added.  

[Reader] felt a smile spread across her face for the first time that day. A tiny smile but a smile nonetheless.  

The little clingy one slowly detached itself from her. It gave her a long look. As if assessing whether she was feeling better enough or if she should come back.  

— Pikaaa! — She wagged her tail, running to her trainer.  

— We'll be heading out — Kaminari announced. — See you at the next competition, kid. — He ruffled his hair.  

They headed towards the stadium exit.  

— Izuku! There you are! Do you know how worried I was about you? — A female voice reached the pair's ears.  

His mother looked just like him. With relief written all over her face, she hugged her son, scolding him fiercely.  

— Mom, you won't believe me...  

— I guess this is where we part ways, girl as beautiful as Galarian Ponyta — Denki announced.  

Another weak flirtation. She wanted to laugh to herself. It didn't seem as annoying as it had before. Even if she didn't resemble the pastel-candy horse at all.  

They were standing in the street in front of the stadium. The crowd had long since disappeared.  

The girl looked at the champion. He wasn't as bad as she thought. She realized that it was the bitterness of defeat that spoke through her. He was trying to make her feel better and he was able to stop clowning around when necessary. Besides, out of all the things he could have bet on, he chose a date. He must have really cared.  

— I guess so — she agreed.  

She turned around. She took a few steps. Suddenly she felt a pain in her ear. It was Inteleon who was stubbornly pulling on it. He even went so far as to get down on her shoulder and poke her cheek impatiently.  

She knew what he meant. His tail was pointing in the direction she had just come from.  

She sighed quietly. He was right.  

— Denki! — She ran back toward him.  

— You miss me already... 

She didn't let him finish. A kiss on the cheek effectively stopped his sentence. He blushed and looked away.  

— Thanks for today. For helping me and all. If you ever want to go out on a real date with me again... that would be great — she finished awkwardly.  

— Of course I will! — he replied enthusiastically.  

— Well then... see you then.  

Kaminari watched her leave. He unconsciously stroked the spot where her lips had been a moment ago.  

— You can't be so cute — he mumbled — or I'll fall in love with you.

[novankenn]

J/C - the Idols of Beacon

--==(Table of Contents) ==--

(Chapter Eight - the Team is Assembled)

“So you signed up?” Coco asked Pyrrha as they entered the conference room that had been indicated on the message they received from Professor Goodwitch. ‘What changed your mind? I thought you were just going to observe the fitness tests?”

“I was, but…”

“But?”

“I’m bored with the constant combat training, and remedial lessons… just exercising and with two individuals that aren’t fawning over me… was refreshing.”

“I can see it.”

“Why are you here?”

“Fashion and style… plus it will keep me out of detention…”

“Detention?”

“I would rather not talk about it.” Coco sighed, “It was a screw-up, but then I met those two… they need serious help, it’s like they don’t know anything about being a young woman and…”

“And?” Pyrrha asked as she took a seat.

“They’re so… CUTE!” Coco squealed, “Especially that Joan… oh… The girl next door… I would…OW!”

Coco rubbed her forward while shooting Pyrrah, a glare that only received a head shake from the red-head.

“That was inappropriate and unprofessional, Coco.”

“But you have…” the opening of the door drew the pair’s attention to the newest addition to the gathering. “You!”

“Why are you here?” Russel screeched in panic, clutching a binder to his chest as he pressed his back to the wall behind him.

“I know why I’m here, not why a little turd like you would be…”

“That is enough, Ms Adel.” the stern voice of Glynda Goodwitch sent a shiver down all three of the student’s spines. “I invited Mr Thrush to this meeting as he, like yourself and Ms Nikos, will be assisting in this special program.”

“How can…”

“Sit down, Ms Adel.” Glydna stepped aside to let another middle-aged woman, as she kept Coco directly in her sights. “I will not tell you again. Mr Thrush please take a seat.”

Coco relented and took her seat next to Pyrrha, but continued to glare as Russel found a chair as far away from the Fashionista as he could. Glynda remained standing as the dark haired woman who had entered with her also took a seat, placing a thick leather-bound portfolio on the table in front of her.

“Now, you have all be invited here because you have expressed interest in assisting Beacon with its new Public Relations Incentive.” Glynda regarded her three students, “I will make this point once. You WILL be professional, any personal issues you have will not be allowed to interfere with this project, so if you CANNOT do that… I suggest you leave now.”

Glynda waited, watching, reading body language. Mr Thrush was obviously anxious and scared, considering who was across the table from him. Ms Nikos was calm and collected, but Ms Adel. She would be the problem considering her aggressive stance.

“I feel like I have to repeat myself… which I am not want to do.” Glynda turned the full force of her stern green eyes upon Coco, causing her aggressive body language to whither instantly. “This is an important project for Beacon, it is also a pilot project, so people will be watching it closely… I will not tolerate any juvenile displays. Your personal issue will stay… outside this project. Understood?”

“Yes professor” the three students answered.

“Good.” Glynda took her own seat before continuing. “The individual to my left is Piper Hamelin. She has been contracted to be Joan and Carla’s agent, as well as their choreographer and vocal coach. She has also been given full control of this project… so from now on you will answer to her. Ms Hamelin.”

“Thank you professor.” Piper studied the three students, her pink eyes framed behind a set of black wire rimmed glasses. She pursed her light red tinted lips, before speaking. “I have been made aware that you three have… volunteered for this project and that you according to professor Goodwitch are to be considered competent help. I however, will have the final say… as such, you are all to consider yourselves under probation… until I decided otherwise.”

Piper opened her portfolio and shuffled some papers, before returning her attention to the trio.

“Ms Nikos, I know of your background and achievements, but that means nothing to me in regard to this project. You will focus on Joan and Carla’s general fitness, with a  focus on stamina.” Piper pulled out a sheet of paper and slid it over to Pyrrha. “This is an outline of the type of exercises I require to be worked into whatever routine you wish. Are you capable?”

“Yes, I am familiar with these exercises and see no issue incorporating them.” Pyrrha replied.

“Good, this” slides two more pages towards her, “Are a work plan that I need to fill out and file with me. The second is a meal guideline that I expect you to enforce, as you will also be required to monitor their caloric intake. You can decide what day of the week can be their ‘cheat’ day… other than that.”

“Okay… I can try, but I am a student, I can’t watch them every time they eat.” Pyrrha responded.

“Starting tomorrow they will be attending all meal times with you and your team, and the kitchen staff have been informed of this menu. You will just have to confirm they are eating from it, aside from their ‘cheat’ day.” Glynda informed the group.

“Okay, I guess I can do this. It’s not too different from my diet.”

“Good. Ms Adel,” Piper slid a set of papers to her, “I understand you are exceptional with fashion and style. I need their current style inventoried, along with accurate body measurements. After I have determined the style idols they will be, I will give you guidelines on what I will require for their public appearances.”

“The inventory is pretty simple. Everything they wear right now I picked out for them. The body measurements, “Coco clicked her tongue, “Are going to be a little difficult.”

“How so?” Piper asked.

“They are rather shy, and timid when it comes to their bodies.” Coco replied as she set the papers down before her. “It’s adorable really, but they have issues with anyone seeing them in anything but form hiding clothing.”

“I see. Then I will also require you to work on their self-confidence and self-image”

“That could be a tall order…” Coco sighed, “But they need a boost, they are very cut… I mean beautiful young women.”

“Cute?” Piper eyed Coco, causing the brunette to fidget.

“I have heard of some of your proclivities… I do not judge, but you will keep a professional distance. Neither of these girls, regardless of their orientation, need the distraction of a relationship at this juncture.”

“And… and if they initiate?” Coco stammered out.

“If they do… we will cross that bridge when or IF it happens.” Piper replied, “Mr Thrush, I understand you have brought some sample work?”

“Yes.” Russel gentle placed his binder on the table and pushed it over to Ms Hamelin. “This is everything I’ve ever written, lyrics and music.”

Piper opened the binder and flipped through it, nodding occasionally. There was a complete silence as for the next few minutes all Piper did was examine Russel’s portfolio. Eventually she stopped, and gently closed the binder, returning it to Russel.

“Your talent surprises me. Not many can dabble in so many varied styles.” Piper gave Russel a smile. “Once I have determined what style they shall follow, I believe you will be capable of providing what I need.”

“Are you satisfied?” Glydna asked.

“Not yet. Everyone up, let’s go.”

“Go?” Coco asked as she, like Pyrrha and Russel, rose from their seats.

“Yes, we need to meet with our Clients. They need to know who is on their support team.” Piper Hamelin informed the trio. “Professor Goodwitch if you please.”

[greenghostlyjekyll]

My Gifset/Stimboard Links

Categories: Starlight Express, SCP, Misc. Fandom (Scary Godmother), and Personal

Starlight Express

Ashley & Buffy

(OC) BB the Bay Window Caboose (One) (Two)

Belle the Bar Car

Belle the Sleeping Car

(OC) Bobbie the Bobber Caboose

Bochum 2015 : Light At The End Of The Tunnel

Buffy the Buffet Car

CB the Red Caboose --- CB the Red Caboose (post 2018) --- CB Harlequin AU

CB & Electra

CB & Rusty

The Coaches

(OC) Dee the Drovers Caboose

Dinah the Dining Car --- Dinah's Disco --- Dinah: On Ice

Dinah ♡ Greaseball

Dinah & Pearl

Duvay the Sleeping Car

Electra the Electric Engine --- Electra the Electric Engine (post 2018)

Electra VS Greaseball

(OC) EV the Extended-Vision Caboose

Flat-top the Brick Truck

The Freight Cars

Greaseball the Diesel Engine

The Hip Hoppers

(OC) Hive the Decommission Engine

Hotel Buenaventura : AC/DC --- Crazy --- He Whistled At Me --- Lotta Locomotion --- U.N.C.O.U.P.L.E.D

Jim'll Fix It Clip

Joule the Dynamite Truck --- The Animal Truck

Krupp the Armaments Truck --- London 1997

(OC) Mal the Sleeping Car

"Ouch" (One) (Two)

Pearl the Observation Car --- Pearl the First Class Carriage (post 2018) --- Pearl: On Ice (One) (Two) --- Pearl Harlequin AU

Pearl ♡ Rusty

Poppa McCoy the Retired Champion

Purse the Money Truck

The Rockies

Rusty the Steam Engine --- Rusty (Ray Shell) --- Rusty Harlequin AU --- Rusty Starshine AU

(OC) Starburner the Champion Racer

(OC) Supernova the Diplomatic Envoy

"Tonight Is Race Night!"

(OC) Tracy the Transfer Caboose

"The Trains Be Fighting"

Trax aka the Track Marshals

US Tour : One Rock and Roll Too Many --- 2003 : Freight is Great

Volta the Freezer Truck

(OC) Windy the Bay Window Caboose

Wrench the Repair Truck

SCP

SCP-052 Time-Traveling Train

SCP-682 au "Tobey"

The Black Lord --- Lord Nigredo, Before --- Lord Nigredo, After

The White Lord --- Lord Albedo, Before --- Lord Albedo, After

The Yellow Lord --- Lord Citrinitas, Before --- Lord Citrinitas, After

The Red Lord --- Lord Rubedo, Before --- Lord Rubedo, After

Misc. Fandom

Scary Godmother

Mouthwashing

Personal

The Green Ghostly Jekyll

Sprite Shenanigans

My Pet Hermit Crabs

Misc.

Lipstick Destruction

[jerzwriter]

Can you answer for Trystan x Carolina?

what kinds of music do they like?

are they a frivolous spender or a miser?

Hey Nonny, thanks for the ask. From this list.

NGL, the first one was one of the tougher questions I've had, but I really appreciate the Trystan x Carolina questions. I need to flesh them out more! 💜

What kinds of music do they like?

Carolina: I swear, Spotify is as confused about her as they are about me because I imagine she has very eclectic and varied tastes in music.

Like most people, the music that was popular during her high school years always sticks with her. For that reason, The Black Eyed Peas, Lady Gaga, Eminem, Rihanna, Pitbull, and Owl City will always be on her playlists.

But she was also very influenced by her father's favorite music, which included two things: Latin music and classic rock. Some of his (and her) favorites from the former are Luis Miguel, Tito Puente, Marc Anthony, and Willie Colon from the latter: Pink Floyd, Queen, Rod Stewart, Van Halen, and one that combines the two, Santana.

With that said... I think she also likes electronic music, she is 100% a Hozier disciple, and, thanks to Uncle Tommy, she has a love for the standards, like Frank Sinatra and Louis Armstrong.

Trystan: This was a struggle for me... what would an exiled Eastern European Prince love? Carolina is my world. Trystan couldn't be more removed. lol

I'm sure he was raised on classical Drakovian and Drakovian folk music, and I'm sure he rebelled against it... but now that he's older and more at peace with himself, he finds himself listening to it again. (OFC, since there is no Drakovia, I have no real-life examples of this lol)

I don't have any idea why... but I see him as a Red Hot Chili Peppers fan. Like so much I think I need art of him wearing one of their shirts lol He probably dabbled in Foo Fighters and Pearl Jam, also.

I also see him as a club kid, so dance music (especially long ass remixes) would be something he likes as well. I'm thinking David Guetta and Calvin Harris-esque, but also some of the old disco classics (yeah, he's got Abba on the playlist; the man is THE Dancing Queen).

His guilty pleasure is the Backstreet Boys (and Luke tortures him when he finds out) and when he's sad, you will find him listening to very dramatic classical music, think Stravinsky and Mahler. And Carolina totally gets him into Hozier. lol

Are they a frivolous spender or a miser?

This one feels very straightforward... Carolina is very cautious with her money, and Trystan loves to spend his. I don't think we have to get into how this came to be. lol

One thing about Carolina that is a bit out of character for her is that she loves expensive purses. So even as a younger woman, she would splurge on them, but not frequently. She didn't have many, and they'd get a lot of use. But to her, splurging was Kate Spade, Michael Kohrs, and Coach. She never even entertained Dior, Louis Vuitton, or Prada... but once Trystan finds out - he starts buying her stuff. At first, she's giddy, but then she makes him cool it - she will never be comfortable with such extreme extravagance.

These were SO FREAKING MUCH FUN to answer. Thank you!

[froody]

I need to make a post about TVC characters and what purses they would carry/what is in them. Show Armand definitely has a $70,000 Birkin. Lestat has a vintage Louis Vuitton bag but I haven’t figured out which one yet. I think Louis has a Coach backpack style bag (like me) because I project on him and also many of the outfits he wears are more understated and comfortable in nature and it’s very practical, probably black leather. Younger Claudia would carry something very feminine and fun like a red Kate Spade heart bag and then some sort of bigger tote bag when she matured a little. Daniel won’t carry a purse but he has some sort of utilitarian messenger bag.