#He chose the right career path!

[shrimpyjackal]

does dev ever get annoyed by Peri? that twink seems annoying to hang around

Oh Dev loooves the attention!He even having a bit of fun watching his godparents little bickerings/attention competitions abt him... But please don`t call Jorgen or Cosmo&Wanda here, or else it WILL be hella stressfull for both annoying and overwhelmng to be here for ginger boy-

Peri just want to show Dev how much he learned during unemployment time! He dont need anyones help on that thank you very much-

[maximura]

[reyalvr]

RUMORS!

I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!

synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?

genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot

pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!

word count ┊ 2.2k

author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)

THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 

From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 

You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 

Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 

Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?

IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 

Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 

“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 

Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 

You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.

You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.

“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”

For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.

The nerve.

“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”

“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:

OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!

Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 

Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 

“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.

“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”

You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.

When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”

The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 

“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”

At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”

You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 

You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 

“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”

You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”

“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 

“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 

Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 

“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”

“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 

He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.

“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 

“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 

You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 

“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”

“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”

“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”

“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”

“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 

He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?

You always were.

[sugarcubetikki]

From day one, there have been multiple theories and interpretations about what Adrien’s future career path and passions would be as we all wanted to see this boy be able to choose and discover something for himself rather than the dozens of activities his father was making him do. I believe the most popular theories in the fandom were Adrien becoming a baker or a stay-at-home dad. I think the popularity of these theories arose due to Adrien being good with kids and showing a fondness towards Marinette’s family and their bakery in early seasons. Furthermore, as Miraculous is built on subverting gender roles, and Adrien’s characterisation is more traditionally feminine with the narrative I guess we were building on that (and men taking on more domestic roles seems to be loved in fandom spaces in general).

However, I hadn’t quite seen running as a potential career choice for Adrien and most of us wouldn’t expect it either.

I, for one, didn’t expect it but I am not disappointed and I think it makes a great lot of sense for his character for three reasons.

Reason #1

As much as I love baker and stay-at-home dad Adrien aus, I’m glad that canon chose not to take that route in this episode. I think that choice would be more detrimental to his character rather than beneficial in our canon narrative.

As Thomas commented, so much of his character already revolves around Marinette considering that he’s pretty much all he has left and feels the most comfortable around her right now. (Even before his father’s death, his sense of identity seemed to revolve around her a lot as we saw him expressing that his love for her was the only thing he was sure of in S5. I think it’s because he’s been deprived of autonomy so much that he seems to be used to basing his desires around other people’s).

That’s why I believe him going into baking or being a stay-at-home dad at the future would not really help him grow as a character as both those choices still keep him under Marinette’s wing.

As this episode established, Adrien needs to figure and explore his passions for himself. Whilst Marinette will always be there for him, he needs to understand what he wants by his own volition.

(Having him make a breakthrough in discovering his interest for running without Marinette at the end of this episode was a great start!) Reason #2

I thought it was interesting how they started this sequence with Adrien looking up sadly at his big and lonely house before running away from it.

It takes me to what Sublime asks him later on.

This is what Adrien has wanted from Season 1: to run away and escape the four corners of his house to explore the outside world. It feels like a callback to Origins where I think of Adrien running away from house to start school. There’s also several times in the show where he runs away to escape the cold and lonely atmosphere his house brings.

The bars on the gate of the house in this scene also makes it look so much like a prison.

Of course, we now have Adrien standing on the outside of it rather than inside considering that the person who was keeping him in the house in the first place is dead.

It still doesn’t mean that Adrien thinks of the house as less of a prison. An association like that is hard to forget especially now that the house is where both his parents died.

But now, without Gabriel, we know he’s free to run from it for as long as he wants.

I also want to add that in Hinduism, running is considered as a physical response to escape distress.

Reason #3

Should someone’s passion really be built on running away from something else? Well no. But I don’t think we’re meant to see it that way. Adrien running at the end of this episode away from his house is meant to symbolise him finally breaking free from the Gabriel’s controlling influence. Him running away is mainly a step towards his growth.

Besides, running isn’t only seen as means to escape problems but it also signifies pursuit of a goal and taking on a spiritual journey for self-growth. (Dream analysis tends to associate both escapism and pursuit to running in dreams depending on the context and circumstance). This also fits Adrien’s character quite well. Not only is he escaping past trauma, but he’s taking on a new journey to explore what he wants in life.

So yeah, let the boy run!

I’m super excited to see where they take his characterisation with this one. The symbolism behind his potential passion/career choice is just gorgeous.

Edit: I’d just like to make it clear that I don’t see this scene as Adrien finding his passion for life. I more or less see it as Adrien taking a step forward to discover something he potentially is passionate about by himself without input from any of the people in his life (he also makes a new friend on his own and that makes me happy). Running is indeed a potential career choice for Adrien, and it could possibly be something he can see himself doing in the future, and we will definitely get more buildup to this passion of his in future episodes too! It’s not a definite career choice for Adrien though, because as Marinette said, he’s young and he has plenty of time to explore what he’s passionate about. This scene isn’t really about making a definite choice, but rather Adrien being allowed to explore something he feels is right by his own choice.

[jeonstellate]

the ghost of aegis

kimi protected his daughter’s right to choose — only for her to choose what he indirectly kept her from.

ᯓ★ kimi räikkönen x daughter!reader

ᯓ★ depictions of a protective dad; media reporters referred to as opportunistic vultures; brief mentions of retirement; ferrari (strategists) bashing; & mild language

ᯓ★ paragraph format — 4.1K words

masterlist

[pic’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

ᯓ★ italian word (y’all already know what) from google! kimi & yn mostly talk to each other in finnish, so all bolded dialogues are in english! as the ghost of monza & the ghost of legacy, there are no physical descriptions for yn.

ᯓ★ this is kimi’s pov for both tgom & tgol :D

ᯓ★ congratulations guys, y’all have officially made me care too much about räikkönen!yn. i’ll miss writing her, fs. maybe that’s why this ran longer than i thought it would. idk.

[First name] was Kimi Räikkönen’s firstborn. As the oldest, she admittedly had a way different upbringing than the rest of her siblings. Not only did she suffer through his initial cluelessness in parenting, she also lived through both the early years and the height of his Formula One career.

Amongst her siblings, she saw Kimi the least during her childhood. It’s not by a large margin in reality, but it definitely could’ve been more significant if not for all the workarounds he took to see her more often than his schedule freely allowed him to.

That meant she also went to the paddock the most. Her visits were always just long enough for her to see him, the closest people he worked with, and his team’s garage and motorhome; but simultaneously short enough to avoid reporters altogether. Those visits were definitely too fleeting for his liking, but they had to do.

[First name] wasn’t someone he was willing to dangle in front of the media, with them being the opportunistic vultures that they are. As much as he would’ve preferred if he could just hide her completely, that wasn’t a viable option for the long run. So, a compromise was made: The world got to know her name and existence, and nothing else.

He didn’t want to force the life he chose for himself on her. He wanted her to have a choice, like he did.

Kimi did enroll her for karting lessons as soon as she was eligible, but he also supported the interests she picked up outside of him. He never showed strong preference over the former, either, opting to give uniformed energy over all — even the ones that were obviously just phases.

The privacy from the limelight gave [first name] the freedom to be herself. She was able to explore plausible career options without external pressure to follow his footsteps.

For a time, his daughter seemed like she’d pursue a similar path. Until she changed her mind and decided on Mechanical Engineering.

"I just want to keep karting as a hobby," [first name] shrugged in response to a question he didn’t even get to vocalize after she offhandedly mentioned her university applications.

There was really no room for arguments there. Not that he would, because her decision also meant he didn’t have to worry about her potentially crashing in Formula One speed. "Why Mechanical Engineering?"

Kimi knew better than to expect a thorough answer. "Just because."

He accepted the non-answer as it was. As long as it was what his daughter wanted, he had no problem supporting her through it.

[First name]’s last visit to the paddock — which was still as short and fleeting as before — after a long while was during his last race before his retirement. It was right around the tail end of her first year’s first trimester and she pulled all the strings to be in Abu Dhabi for that weekend despite her exams. Kimi had hope for a better result for his last Formula One race, but spending time with his firstborn after a trimester of not seeing her around had been the highlight of his weekend then.

A part of him assumed that’d be her last visit to the paddock. Definitely not her last time in a circuit to watch a race in person, but certainly the last time she’d have a VIP Access pass or a paddock pass around her neck. After all, her classes were just going to get harder from that point on. Plus, she hadn’t given any indication of wishing to support her remaining uncles on the grid like she supported him, either.

As far as Kimi’s aware, [first name] had survived being subjected to paddock intrigue with no reporter or media sightings. She merely remained as the first name to ever grace his helmets throughout his long Formula One career.

Unfortunately, his previous assumption was proven to be too early to call. For his firstborn decided to snatch a ticket to the grand prix at the circuit 22.9 kilometers away from her university as soon as she heard about Sebastian’s retirement.

"How much did you buy it for?"

[First name] didn’t look up to the laptop camera when she replied. Her eyes stayed glued down on whatever she was writing on. "Not telling."

That was enough for him to gauge the price. "Princess," her endearment was laced with a hint of disappointment it didn’t usually have. "I could’ve gotten you a pass for free."

"I want to surprise Uncle Seb," she shrugged.

"Then I could’ve contacted Fernando."

She took a minute to respond, preoccupied with punching numbers in her calculator by the sound of it. "I don’t want any of them to feel responsible for me, dad."

Kimi, of course, didn’t approve of that. He might be retired, but there no way he’d consent to his daughter roaming loose at the paddock without eyes on her. It was still a dangerous place to be at, in more ways than one. "Someone needs to know you’ll be there."

Thankfully, [first name] didn’t need much convincing. "Right. I might not find them if they don’t know I’m dropping by." She paused, seemingly contemplating. "I’ll message them later tonight."

He messaged them as well after that video call. It was a bit ominous, but it had to do because he didn’t want to steal his daughter’s thunder in case Sebastian and Fernando read his message first. Take care of [first name] for me.

It did cause mild panic between the two, with Fernando questioning who’d get custody of his younger children and Sebastian asking how bad they were talking about, but it was nothing a quick (and vague) reply couldn’t fix.

[First name]’s visit to the Monza paddock started out predictable — or, at least, the way he hoped it would. She got to walk around without any interruptions — reporters paid her no mind, and the majority of the paddock merely dismissed her as one of the many drivers’ guests present. She geeked out about the mechanisms and engineering all around there, in a way only engineering students and those passionate about such things do. She also returned her VIP Access pass and replaced it with the paddock pass she purchased prior after she spent enough time with her uncles.

It was a success, as far as Sebastian and Fernando were concerned. [First name] seemed to share their sentiments, when she gave him her version of her Monza escapades the next time they video called after that weekend.

Kimi would like to think so, too, since it notably loosened the tension on his daughter’s shoulders. He was even willing to look past the unideal fact that more of the current grid now knew about [first name], because they played a part in making her weekend then somehow.

As far as he was aware, based on the reports he received from both Sebastian and Fernando, there were four people in the current grid that now knew about [first name]’s existence.

Lance and Esteban were the only ones who recognize her as Sebastian and Fernando’s shared niece. (He hadn’t been privy to the introduction either man used, but he’d assume they vaguely referred to him as a ‘common family friend’ to maintain the anonymity out of habit.) Charles and Carlos, on the other hand, were the only ones who know of her parentage. (Apparently, Charles was there when she sprinted from the Alpine motorhome to the garage where her uncles were. He had to tell someone to relieve himself of the shock, and his teammate had been the best choice.) The rest of the grid were none the wiser about the ‘[first name]’ on their former grid mate’s helmets breathing the same air as them.

Unfortunately, there was one thing he couldn’t look past about his daughter’s weekend at Monza. It was the detail Sebastian and Fernando purposely saved for last in their reports. Little Princess has a crush.

At first, he didn’t believe it. [First name] hadn’t gotten a crush since she entered high school. He knew that for certain, because he was obviously his daughter’s favorite — and she happened to tell him everything since she learned how to talk. She had mentioned being acquainted with Lance, Esteban, and the two Ferrari drivers; but never anyone who caught her eye in Monza.

However, Sebastian and Fernando made compelling arguments.

VET: [First name] zoomed on feet.

VET: ZOOMED.

ALO: I didn’t know she could go that fast outside a kart.

It wasn’t necessarily the news of her running fast that he found compelling. She had run toward him at top speed for years, notably whenever she won a karting race (which she always entered under a pseudonym). It was the news of her running fast because of a boy— because she wanted to know a boy’s name. She hadn’t done that before.

Kimi was slightly inclined to believe it. Unfortunately, the desire to deny was way stronger. Especially when he considered the fact that [first name] literally ran away from whoever that was.

[First name], much to Kimi’s interest, went back to the Monza paddock the following year. That time, however, she made sure to inform him beforehand; before she asked Fernando if it was alright to visit him prior to the race and before she purchased her ticket. A parcel with a VIP Access code and Aston Martin merch was promptly delivered to her university apartment’s address, but only the former saw the Monza sunshine.

ALO: Why did your daughter show up in your Ferrari merch when I sent her Aston Martin ones to wear?

RAI: They’re in the laundry.

‘Take care of [first name]’ went without saying that time around. Frankly, he was relieved he didn’t have to say it explicitly. His daughter was a number past eighteen now, and ergo had been a legal adult for more years than he wanted to admit, so a word about being overprotective would’ve definitely been said if the other circumstance was the case.

Not that he would mind, of course. Being so was . . . appropriate, for the lack of a better term, given that she’d remain his little girl — his baby — no matter how old she got.

And certainly no matter who caught her attention.

ALO: [First name] went to see him again.

VET: Who?

ALO: Her crush.

VET: Oh?

VET: How did it go?

ALO: She ran out again.

RAI: Did she get his name?

ALO: No.

ALO: Didn’t give her name, either.

In all honesty, Kimi didn’t care about who [first name]’s crushes were. One distinct detail for each was enough to identify them whenever they came up in conversations. He wouldn’t bother knowing their names, even if her crush on them lasted longer than the others. It was all a matter of principle. As long as their mere existence made her happy and motivated, he had no need to care about who they were and where they lived.

For the newest one though, he was seriously considering breaking that self-imposed rule. Because, against all odds (i.e., [first name] rarely going to the paddock), she saw him and developed a crush. And, to make matters worse, she saw him at the one place he thought she was finally free from: The paddock.

The paddock housed a lot of different characters. Subjectively, he would much prefer it if her crush was someone out of the limelight. Maybe one of the newly hired engineers, interns, or personnels. Hopefully not a driver, because he’d be beside himself with the mere thought.

But, alas. The name that followed his personal inquiry when he let his curiosity get to the best of him was all too familiar.

Oscar Piastri. McLaren, 81.

[First name], Kimi’s darling daughter, did have a crush on a Formula One driver.

[First name] never brought Oscar Piastri up, no matter how long Kimi waited — nor how many times he gave her the opportunity to. Even a mention of having a new crush was nowhere to be heard, not even in passing or blurted nonchalant confessions.

Kimi was frankly more intrigued about her latest crush because of that. He already acknowledged Oscar Piastri was different than the rest because he was an F1 driver, but he was also curious why the latter prompted a different treatment. What happened in the paddock that Oscar Piastri hadn’t gotten an introduction like everyone else before him?

Apart of him suspected it had something to do with Oscar Piastri being her first crush in adulthood. He didn’t like that idea, however, because of its potential implications — which included the chance that [first name] was simply outgrowing her habit of telling him everything.

He had known that that time would come eventually. He just hadn’t prepared for ‘eventually’ to mean ‘now.’

He supposed he should still be thankful that the change in boundaries didn’t mean he would hear nothing about what [first name] had been up to lately from her directly. Rather, he’d still do for some — just for very selected moments.

"Dad," [first name] called his attention after she conversed with her siblings before they disappeared for their night baths. "What do you think of me interning for F1?"

"For the FIA?"

"No, for one of the teams," she clarified.

That intrigued him more than the possibility of his daughter working directly for the FIA. "Which team?"

"I’m not sure yet, but definitely not one of your old teams," she answered thoughtfully. "So no Sauber, McLaren, Ferrari, or Alpine."

"I didn’t race for Alpine."

She dismissed his correction, "Technicalities."

Kimi’s eyes softened. It still felt like yesterday when [first name] first sat in the cockpit of his F1 car at five years old, which ultimately gave rise to her karting career. She might’ve given it up in favor of pursuing a more stable career, but his influence on her was definitely still there.

"Include them in your list, too," he eventually chose to say next. "You never know."

His daughter didn’t argue, but it did take her awhile to see merit in his suggestion. "I suppose."

It was quite too late when Kimi realized he essentially just gave her permission to pursue her crush by encouraging her to apply for an internship at McLaren.

[First name] didn’t always have time to watch races between her classes, part-time job, and endless to-do list. Thus, she often watch recordings of the ones she missed whenever she was back home for breaks. Rather than asking her which races she missed, however, Kimi opted to save every race recording on the TV instead.

Watching them back wasn’t an exclusive ‘them’ bonding activity, but it still felt like it somehow since they were usually the only ones to finish them all the way through.

"You’ve rewatched some already?" [First name] blurted from her spot on the couch when he re-entered the living room with snacks.

He opted to join her on the couch first before responding, "Yeah."

He considered saying more than that, but an elaboration called for omissions. After all, not all of those rewatches were done in honest forgetfulness, but also in critical eyes for one specific driver.

He wouldn’t mind telling her that he had been watching Oscar Piastri’s performance (including his onboards) and interviews had she opened up about her new crush. There was nothing wrong with what he had done, as he never went beyond observing him in Formula One. What he did see an issue with, however, was freaking out his daughter by sharing his observations and subsequent conclusion when she hadn’t even said a word about him.

RAI: Piastri’s good.

Thankfully, [first name] didn’t question his response. "Would you still rewatch with me?"

Kimi looked at her like she just asked an absurd question as he handed her favorite snack over. "Of course."

VET: Is that a seal of approval?

[First name] ended up finishing a bag and a half in the first race alone, since she was stressing about Ferrari’s questionable strategy — or lack thereof — the entire time.

[First name] went back to the Monza paddock for the third year in a row. By that point, Kimi was already half-expecting her to — and was not even a tad surprised when she told him about her intentions.

Yet, still, that didn’t mean her latest visit was void of any surprises. For Fernando’s triumphant update of Little Princess has finally been acquainted with Papaya boy was eventually followed by a call.

It was [first name].

"Princess, are you alright?" Kimi asked worriedly as soon as he picked up. In the three years she visited the Monza paddock, that marked the first time she called on a race day. For the first two years, she had saved all her stories about her paddock trip for the following week — or whenever she had the time to call next. So, for her to call a couple hours after the race broadcast ended . . . "Are you hurt?"

"I’m okay, dad." [First name]’s response provided an immense sense of relief. He almost audibly exhaled. "I’m on the train back to Milan. I got something to eat at the station."

He voiced his approval. His daughter often forwent eating in favor of finishing something for school, so he was glad to hear she actually grabbed dinner for once. "Let me know when you get back to your apartment."

His daughter merely made a noise of acknowledgement before swaying the conversation. "Uncle Nando told me something interesting earlier."

He found himself a comfortable spot to sit, unsure with how long the conversation would take. "What did he tell you?"

"He said you’ve known that I have a crush on a McLaren driver for years."

Kimi nodded to himself, despite their call being merely audio. He supposed it was about time he come clean about keeping a watchful eye on Oscar Piastri. "I didn’t believe him and Sebastian until last year."

The following silence made him reconsider, however. Especially when it was ultimately broken by a sigh on the other end. "I didn’t want to tell you yet."

"You don’t have to tell me now," he assured her before she could say anything else.

"But, dad, you already know."

"And?" He challenged, almost dismissively. "I want to hear a confirmation from you. But I only want to hear it when you’re ready."

[First name] took another moment to respond. "What if I take a while to get ready?"

"Then I’ll wait," Kimi shrugged — forgetting once more that his daughter couldn’t see him. "Simple."

[First name] chose Williams, in the end. She got a few internship offers from the current Formula One teams and, although she recognized one from the top would look better on her resume, she figured one from the midfield would be personally more fulfilling. That, and also because she didn’t think she’d be able to restrain herself if she heard the Ferrari strategists call bullshit.

Kimi, as he had done throughout her entire life thus far, just sat back and supported her decision. He did find it somewhat amusing that Charles couldn’t let go of the fact that she rejected the Ferrari internship offer, though.

Hearing her stories about her paddock shenanigans made one thing clear. [First name] belonged there. Formula One might still be far from letting women rejoin the sport as contenders but, one way or another, she had always been meant to be there. His caution might’ve protected her from vultures in her childhood, but it was never meant to drive her away completely.

It must’ve been her Räikkönen blood interfering with her calling.

Needless to say, Kimi was beyond proud of his firstborn. Even more so when he heard about her little rebellion stunt that she cleverly masked as an act of merely going above and beyond, regardless of her core intention for doing so.

[First name] had told him so many things about her internship. Not just the borderline nuisances she had to put up with from the drivers, but also the interesting things she learned. It was unsurprising to hear that there were a lot he didn’t know about how Formula One operated, despite being an active part of it for two decades.

His absolute favorite recap happened on a dawn where sleep was ripped from him by the ringtone he set specially for [first name]. Amidst the sleep-induced fog in his brain, he comprehended an excited "Dad!" as soon as he swiped to answer.

"What happened?" His reply came out hoarse with sleep.

"I—" Her initial response stopped short. "Did I wake you?" She paused, long enough for him to exit the master’s bedroom and head toward the living room. He could’ve sworn he heard her curse under her breath, but he couldn’t be quite sure. "Sorry, dad. I forgot about the timezone. Go back to bed. I’ll just tell you in the morning."

Rather than replying, he touches the button that requests for a video call. He only resumed the conversation once he could see her face on his phone screen. "What is it?"

She was still in her Williams uniform, looking as if she just got back to her accommodation despite her usual internship time ending hours ago.

"It’s okay," she shook her head lightly, clearly feeling apologetic. "It’s not a big deal. I’ll just call again in the morning."

"[First name]," Kimi pronounced his daughter’s name akin to the way he used to whenever he was exasperated. It wasn’t that hard to tell the ‘not a big deal’ was a lie. "What is it?"

Thankfully, his daughter did the wise thing and complied.

[First name]’s excitement was back in a blink, albeit it manifested in her eyes rather than in her voice still. "I have a new crush."

He nodded once, already accepting that it was as good a time as any. He had been waiting, after all. "Will you tell me about him?"

The sun was already beginning to rise by the time the call finished. He didn’t mind, partly because his firstborn hadn’t called in almost a month, but mostly because [first name] had the corners of her mouth slightly upturned the entire time.

"[First name], there you are," Kimi greeted as soon as he spot his firstborn entering the Aston Martin garage. The visit marked his first time back at the paddock since his retirement almost four years ago, and he figured his daughter’s ‘favorite’ circuit was the best one to make his first return appearance at. "Where did you go?"

[First name], in support, asked for a day off from her internship. Hence her deliberate choice to blend in with the huge tifosi crowd in tifosi territory. "Around."

"You left me with the media," he said, almost accusatory, as he watched her hug his former teammate.

She wasn’t amused. "I left you with Uncle Jenson." Nor was he, when she chose to return standing next to the person clad in orange and black. "Uncle Lewis and Uncle Nico were there, too."

Kimi didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he turned his attention to the person next to his daughter. It was Oscar Piastri. "Where did you take my daughter?"

He saw panic in the younger McLaren driver’s eyes.

He squinted his eyes into an almost glare, inquisitive and suspicious. He might be generally supportive of her crushes because of the motivations they came with, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was fine with seeing them — her and her crush — together. It was one thing to hear stories about the said person, and another to live through the moments those stories were made.

"Here," [First name] answered on Oscar Piastri’s behalf.

It didn’t help that Oscar Piastri was an F1 driver, either. He knew, firsthand, about the life and lifestyle that came with being one. So, naturally, his trust was in the negatives — regardless of the other’s impressive driving and generally likable public persona.

Conclusions were instantly made and, of course, none of them were to his liking — not even remotely. He returned his attention to her. "You left me to go to him?"

"No, I went to Ferrari first to meet Charles’ dog," she corrected. "Then I went to McLaren."

"Why did you go to McLaren?" Fernando inquired exactly what was in his mind. "Why did she go to you?"

[First name] shrugged, looking every bit like a relaxed spokesperson for the seemingly tongue-tied McLaren driver. "Tradition."

Kimi casted her a questioning look, but she merely held it with ease. Her expression remained unchanged and void of any potential clues. He had absolutely no idea what she could’ve possibly meant.

He wisely opted to not think too much about it, but not without sending Oscar Piastri another look of distrust.

[prodbymaui]

Puppy — 이제노.

wish you were here right now

PAIRING: lee jeno x you

GENRE: phone sex

WORD COUNT: 1k+ words

WARNINGS: sub!jeno, mommy kink, puppy jeno, exaggerated usage of petnames (well— puppy and mommy), masturbation, reader is a meanie

SYNOPSIS: The 3 days of separation is finally getting in to your boyfriend.

A/N: I couldn’t get jeno out of my head these days, might as well use this to get rid of writer’s block. enjoy this food and tell me if you have other requests!

An exasperated sigh escapes past your lips as your purse hits the soft padding of the couch, followed by your weight. Unhesitatingly, you move to chuck your shoes out of your feet and allow yourself to relax after a long day.

At times like this, you question your decision of pursuing architecture. All the endless days of floor planning got you thinking if this was really the right path for you. However each time, you get reminded that it is exactly why you chose this career.

“It’s architecture, or nothing,” You once said to yourself.

Blinking the tiredness away, you head to fetch fresh clothes and shower the day away— earning the much deserved relaxation underneath the warm water. It didn’t take you long before your back pressed down the bed as your hand stretched out to reach your phone, which had been ringing since earlier.

“Miss me?” You greet teasingly the moment you pick up the call, expecting a flustered and awkward answer.

Yet surprisingly, a breathy moan replies. “M-mommy..”

Though currently alone, you feel the air around you switch up. Almost as if Jeno has this ability to control your surroundings. Suddenly, it feels hotter, and the atmosphere feels heavier.

“Jen, baby?” Carefully, you call out to him.

Jeno whimpers your name. “Please, f-.. fuck,”

Wet squelches echo from the other line, accompanied by the constant grunts and heavy breathing from your boyfriend.

You chuckle to yourself. The three days of being away from each other finally got to him, huh?

“What’s wrong, Jen? Why do you sound so breathless?” A frustrated whimper pierces your ears, eliciting a giggle once again.

Jeno, despite being miles away, is so easy to read. Judging by the sounds he’s making, he’s most definitely been touching himself longer than you think.

“I—…”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Need you,” Jeno gasps. “Need you so bad, right now— please.”

The desperation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“Right,” Glancing quickly at the time, you figured losing an hour or two of sleep wouldn’t be too much. “Let me see, baby.”

You could hear Jeno letting out a sound of relief. It’s actually pathetic that before the camera opens, you are also able to hear thudding noises— as though the phone drops from his grip— and a few hurried shuffling.

“Oh my,” You mockingly says as the screen displays Jeno’s cock; red, hard, and wet.

His hand doesn’t stop stroking his length one bit. But it’s neither fast paced nor haste, it’s rather slow. Almost like he’s easing the ache. Or merely testing the waters. The said waters are your mood.

“Oh, love, look at you,” Your voice is laced with faux pity. “Have you been thinking about Mommy?”

Jeno answers no less than a heartbeat. “Yes! Been thinking about you, Mommy. Puppy loves Mommy so much, miss you— ah— miss you so much!”

He’s far too gone in his subspace.

God, just how much you love seeing a man so tall and buff falling beneath just barely your fingertips. A man so tough yet crumbles at the sound of your voice. A man so big yet whimpers at your every command.

“Did you? I miss you too, baby. Tell Mommy what you’ve been thinking about her?”

His grip tightens at your words. Jeno takes it as a signal to quicken his pace. “I—I wanna eat out Mommy so bad. Miss your pussy, I’ll eat, shit oh shit, you so good. Wanna fuck you— please let me fuck you, Mommy. Can I fuck you, please?”

His incoherent ramblings send straight to your core. Your hand disappears between your legs, slotting themselves between the soaked lips of your pussy as you slowly rub your clit in circles.

“Yeah? Puppy wants to fuck Mommy?”

The screen shakes, possibly from Jeno’s eager nodding. How can a big man be this cute?

“But since when did you learn how to use his cock, hmm? I always had to do all the work because you cannot use that cock properly.”

In your words, Jeno’s hips desperately thrust upwards to meet the stroke of his hand. His whimpers intensifies and the phone slips out every now and then from his grasp.

“What would your gym rat friends’ reactions be if they see you like this? Such a big cock all to waste, tsk tsk.”

Murmurs of apologies soon fill your ears. And if your hearing ability is not deceiving you, you might’ve heard a few sobs.

The movement of his hips stutters a second, allowing you to see just how he tries not to cut off the pleasure shooting in his body.

“But you don’t care, don’t you? As long as Mommy gets to play you like the toy you are. You like it, don’t you, Puppy? Being Mommy’s good boy?”

Jeno exclaims. “Y-yes! Ahh fuck, I’m Mommy’s good boy— yes! Oh please—“

“You are, baby. My good boy.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you thrust your finger inside your hole in sync with Jeno’s strokes.

“Come for me, puppy. Show me how good you are.”

A chant of your name and series of ‘thank you’s is what finally pushes you to the edge. Shutting your eyes close and throwing your head back to the pillow as you listen to your boyfriend coming undone with you.

You both bask in the euphoric feeling until Jeno cuts it off with a lovely murmur.

“I really miss you, you know?”

Laughing softly, you face your screen again. Only then you realized that you didn’t turn on your camera all this time. So you switched it open.

“I miss you too. 2 days more, then I’ll be back home.”

“2 days is heeeell,” You watch as Jeno buries his face to the pillows.

“It’ll fly faster, I promise. The next thing you know I’m right there sleeping beside you.”

“Promise?” Jeno asks, voice fading. You giggle at the obvious sleepiness.

“Yes, I promise. Now, wash up and go to sleep, baby.”

Unless he wants to sleep sticky and carry the responsibility of washing the sheets tomorrow, Jeno had no choice but to follow your words. Soon you both had to say your goodbyes and I love yous to each other.

2 days more. And you’ll be back to your puppy-like boyfriend.

[written-in-flowers]

Dying Twice: Thanos x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Thanos / Choi Subong x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, smut

Word Count: 5k

Summary: "The heart no longer races when hearing the music play, tryna pull up. Seems like time has stopped. Oh, that would be my first death I been always afraid of" - BTS "Black Swan"

Or you should be scared to play the games, but what is the point in fear if you've already died once? What else is there?

Tags: k-rapper!reader, angst, mentions of drug use, drug use, mentions of partying, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, dom/sub undertones (if you look closely), slight choking.

****

You really landed yourself in a bind this time. As if getting scammed and having to scrape to get by, you sunk low enough to end up here…wherever here was. You still couldn't figure out what kind of place the masked men brought you to. In colors of sickening pink and eye sore yellow, the maze of stairs reminded you of a painting you'd seen. The stairs went up and down and side to side. They went upside-down and sideways. Like with that, you had trouble gauging the path to your destination. Perhaps that didn't matter. You followed the rest of the players through the maze guarded by masked men. They said you'd be playing games for a cash prize. It sounded too good to be true…

But you couldn't pass it up. 

Standing in line to have your photo taken, someone tapped your shoulder. You turned to see a young woman with a short ponytail standing with an excited smile on her face. A pang of dread hit you when you recognized the signs.

“You're B.Kat,” she beamed, getting a better look at your face. “From The Rap Battleground. I've listened to all your songs, and went to your shows! Oh my god, this is so cool! I love your music!”

“Yeah, thanks.” 

“I saw you at The Rap Battleground,” she continued, “When they paired you up with that one rapper.”

“Sik-k,” you said. 

“Yeah, and you burned him so bad,” she laughed. “Oh my god! ‘tell these boys to get back, don't they know I'm fucking S-class’” she repeated, mirroring your gestures. “Ah, this is so sick! I always wondered what happened to you after your last album.”

Everything went downhill, that's what. You'd trusted Nico to manage your money, and instead he embezzled it. You’d given him everything: your heart, your body and soul. The trust the both of you shared went beyond lovers. Hearts beating like one, you swore your souls meshed together the night you met. They’d imprinted and became one form instead of two separate ones. The day you found out what he’d done, your heart physically ached. The threads keeping you together pulled and snapped, the metaphorical red threads falling to the ground. That thread might have never existed to begin with. Nico went to prison but you'd lost everything. All the money you made with your music suddenly disappeared overnight. You tried rebuilding your career, but being a woman in a male dominated industry was rough. Not many producers took you seriously. You’d even been snubbed at Battle, where the judges chose a man over you despite what audiences believed. It didn’t matter how masculine you tried being, you’d never fit in with them. 

“Hey, can I get a picture?” she asked excitedly. “Please?”

“Yeah, me too!” A man nearby overheard and jumped into line with you. “You and Thanos are my favorite rappers. You're both lyrical geniuses.”

“And me!” said another woman, coming over to you. “And can I get your autograph?”

“Um, look, I-”

“-Now, now, everyone. Let's not crowd B.Kat like this.”

You recognized him right away. Long brown hair slicked back from his face, his jacket read ‘124’. Funny, you thought, you were 126. The club manager from Club Pentagon, Namgyu. You remembered the smooth way he'd integrated himself in your inner circle that first night. He'd come bearing drugs and free alcohol that you eagerly accepted. Smooth talking and flirty, you hadn't minded his advances since he’d been before Nico. 

“You can all take a photo with her and Thanos,” he said to the group. 

He gestured over to a man with spiky purple hair. Thanos. A cold sweat went over you seeing him in person. The last time you’d seen him, you both were panting and bottomless in the Battle dressing room. A part of you shivered recalling how his hands felt on your body back then. In that dressing room, he’d pressed on every weak spot as if he’d already known. He’d worked you easily, driving you crazy and nearly begging for him to enter you. When he finally did, it was better than any high you’d ever had before. You sometimes thought he’d been better than Nico. 

“Wassup, Senorita?” he said, and you almost laughed from his cringey opener. “I haven't seen you since Battleground.”

“I've been around,” you lied. 

“Let's take a photo with our fans,” he said to the delight of the group. “A real artist doesn't deny their fans.”

Before you could reject the offer, Thanos and Namgyu pulled you to the camera station next. It reminded you of times that pulled at your broken heart. The fans who used to come to every single show regardless of location; the ones who posted about you on their social media and streamed your music. You didn’t care about the fame they brought, but the acceptance and energy. When you stood behind your microphone, you were home. You could breathe amongst them. Nowadays, you can hardly bear it. Your last album disappointed a lot of people; they said it sounded too manufactured and not like your old sound. You’d gotten a ghostwriter to help you, and that itself was a disaster. The group of followers circled around you for the photo before a masked man stopped you. 

“It's only one photo!” said the first woman told the guard. “You took our phones so we can't take the photos ourselves!”

“Don't you know who they are?” asked the man. “This is B.Kat and Thanos. You know, the rappers?”

“It's not allowed,” the masked soldier said again, crossing his arms in an X symbol. 

The group groaned in disappointment, but Thanos turned to them. “Tell you what. When we get out of here, B.Kat and I will take photos with all of you.”

“Or just with you,” you said. 

“We might even do a friendly rap battle, eh?” he teased you with a nudge. 

“Ooh yeah!” The group cheered, excited by the prospect. 

“I don't think so-”

“-Please step aside,” said the masked man, “And take your individual photos.”

You were the first to obey. However, they weren't done with you. Thanos came up beside you. 

“You know, it’s not cool to snub your fans like that,” he said in matter-of-factly tone. “People will start thinking you’re a snotty person.”

“I don’t have fans anymore,” you replied, not meeting his eyes. 

“You have plenty,” he reasoned, gesturing to the people behind you. “Like, who were those people then? Paid fans?” When you did not answer, he said, “Where’ve you been, B? You haven’t been in the game for a while.”

“I retired.”

He scoffed, “You can’t retire. You’re too young to retire.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Just wasn’t feeling it anymore.”  

You missed it. You missed being on stage performing for a crowd of people, just feeding off one another's energy. In the dark rooms and dim lights you could release everything laying inside you. You could be another person. But, then it stopped. The music that used to flow out of you felt stuck and dry. It no longer brought the same excitement as before. Every time you thought about stepping on stage, shame came and drove you away. You sat in your room for ages trying to write lyrics or music, but it didn’t happen. The worst thing that could happen did happen: you’d lost your passion. 

“That's a shame,” he said. “I liked your music. I enjoy your flow better. You have a lot of control, so you're precise but still spitting like crazy. Like,” he chuckled, “‘This ain’t a movie, wake up. You’ve lost your sense of reality. Fall away far from here.’ It flows so well. I hoped to hear more after that album of yours.”

You didn’t want to talk about your album. Nico’s betrayal hurt enough without adding your stupid decision to it. “Thanks.”

You all walked into an open roof room. Nothing in it but sand and a large animatronic doll at the end of the room. A female voice explained the rules as Red Light, Green Light. 

“We're playing Red Light, Green Light?” Thanos scoffed when it was announced. “This will be a cake walk.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, eyeing the doll at the end by the tree. An ominous feeling crept inside your bones, stiffening them as you walked. 

“Why?”

“That’s too easy. There must be a catch.” You searched the room for the answer, but you saw nothing unusual. “They wouldn’t give a bunch of broke people a chance at money without there being some challenge to this.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“Maybe.”

You felt him stand closer to you. “Don’t worry, B,” he said, winking, “I’ll protect you.”

You somehow doubted that. When the game finally started, your suspicions were proven right. A man-Player 456-told you that the doll was a motion detector and if you moved, they’d shoot you. Nobody believed him the first time, scoffing and laughing at him. 

“He’s like my old man when he comes home drunk,” Thanos said with a smirk, “Just spitting nonsense.” 

“He’s not drunk.”

“What do you mean? Look at him.” 

When the doll called out a second and third time, the true catch was revealed. Bullets came flying from different directions, piercing through people that moved even a smidge. Hot blood sprayed on your face as the man in front of you got a bullet to the head. You could taste the droplets near your mouth, and the stench of blood stuck to your nostrils. Staring down, you realized you’d never seen a dead body before. Not even at a funeral. The man, pot-bellied and bald, laid lifeless at your feet. When it came time to move, you stepped around him and kept going until you reached the end. More people around you and Thanos dropped to the ground. You turned to see your own horror mirrored in his eyes. 

The game ended, and you stared at the field of bodies left on the ground. You wondered what you’d gotten yourself into for real. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t real. It’s a nightmare that you’d wake up from any second. Yet, as you walked on shaky legs back to the dorm, the blood you wiped from your face made everything real. Nobody spoke as you entered the dorm. You walked right to your bunk in the far corner, visions of the dead still clouding your mind. How could they do that? They’d shot those people so easily. What kind of person came up with “games” like this?

“This shit is crazy, man.” Thanos took the bed beside yours, shocked and confused. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, hugging your sides. “I…Those people…It’s…”

Neither of you spoke for a while. You saw the same horrified expressions on the other players. It was the small click that broke you from your thoughts. Thanos had retrieved a large cross from under his shirt and opened it to reveal several different colored pills. Nico used to have a vial of cocaine he kept on him at all times. He always shared it with you. He said he’d do it with nobody else. You wonder now how true that was. 

“Want one?” Thanos offered the cross to you, chewing down on one of them. “It’s crazy good, man. Like nothing I’ve done before.” 

“No, thanks.”

“Come on, I know you pop too. We did it together that night.”

“No.” 

He closed the cross, and finished chewing. “Your last album was shit,” he said out of nowhere, still watching the rest of the group. “Who wrote the music? Nico?”

No point denying it. “This guy named Huey.”

“You used to write your own verses. I saw you doing it during Battleground. What happened?”

“It stopped coming to me.”

“You thought getting a ghostwriter would make it easier?” 

“I needed to make money.

“And lose all your cred in the process?”

“I didn’t think the difference would be that noticeable.”

“Psh, well, it fucking was. Everybody was talking about it. They said you’d finally sold out.”

“I know what they were saying.”

“People already thought a girl rapper was a joke,” he said, “And right when you were showing people you were the real deal, you-”

“-Keep talking and I’ll shove that cross down your fucking throat,” you snapped. “I already know all that. You think I don’t know it? I’ve known since before Battleground when they picked that clown J.D. over me. I heard the shit those fuckers said behind my back: that they thought I was somebody’s girlfriend when they saw me and how I’d make a better groupie than a rapper. I don’t need a pill popper telling me how I fucked up my career. My boyfriend taking my money is already embarrassing enough.” 

“Nico took your money?” This made him turn his head. 

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” he huffed. “That’s ten times more fucked up. At least the guy who scammed me didn’t know me.” 

“Who scammed you?”

“MG Coin,” he scowled, “He told us to invest in this coin and we’d be billionaires. Then the guys who made the coin took all of the money and ran.” He stared into the crowd, “And now he’s here.”

“He is?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna get my money back from him one way or another.”

“Me too!” Namgyu appeared hanging from a bunk above you both. 

“Namsu-”

“-Namgyu-” he corrected Thanos.

“Yeah, Namgyu and I bonded over our shared misfortune,” Thanos said. “We’re gonna get our money back from him. All of it.”

“In order for him to pay you back, he’s got to be the sole winner,” you said, “And in order to be the sole winner, we’d have to be dead.”

“I ain’t dying,” he scoffed, “And neither are you.”

“I already did, so it doesn’t matter.”

Your chest tightened whenever you thought about it. The last time you’d held your notebook, you’d stared at the pages until you gave up. When you last heard one of your songs, you felt nothing. A part of you, you felt, had died. The excitement that used to come out of you no longer existed. It was your first death. Dying in these stupid games would only be a second one. 

“Pill?” He offered his cross a second time, seeing your watering eyes. 

You took a red one without hesitation this time. Crushing it between your teeth, you knew the chalky substance would sink into your bloodstream and you’d forget about it. 

“Can I get one?” Namgyu asked eagerly, trying to get closer to him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thanos said as if he weren’t already tucking the cross away. 

The masked men returned to the room, and everyone gathered in the center. They told you the new accumulated amount, then for a vote. People could vote to either keep the games going or stop them and leave with a share of what’s left. Seeing the amount left, you knew what choice you needed to make. 

“That would barely put a dent in my debt,” you said out loud to yourself. 

“Same,” said Thanos. You saw the drug starting to take over him with his restless body. “So, it looks like we’re going back into the fray together, B!” 

“Looks like it.”

As expected, even with the amount of bloodshed they’d witnessed, most people picked to continue the games. You heard some people say ‘just one more game can cover my debt’. That depended on how many people died in the next game. As the drug starts running in your veins, you let yourself get lost in the euphoria. 

Hey, if you’re going to die a second time, you’d enjoy the time while you could. 

****

“Fuck, you taste good.”

His tongue swirled and dipped carefully over the hard nub and hood. Your nails dug into his hair, purple hair tangling between your fingers. 

“Better than anything I’ve had before.” 

A slight rush of cold on your side pulled you from the hazy dream. 

“That’s a good girl…Yeah, just like that…You look so pretty like this…Can we just stay here? You feel so fucking good, baby. I don’t want to stop.”

His hands and lips were fire on your skin. His length sunk deep in every thrust, stretching and filling you. Your hands slipped into the dark purple spikes of his hair, scratching his scalp as you tugged on it out of habit. He kept you pinned with his body as he slowly rocked his hips to yours. 

“Subong…”

His body came first. He slowly uncurled you from your sideways position for more access to you. A pair of lips started pecking your neck, starting at your shoulder before reaching the curve at the base. Your mind stayed in between dreams and reality, unable to register what was really going on. Soft breaths buried themselves in your hair, while two hands went around your middle. 

He withdrew just to rub against your clit. His girth pushed your swollen lips apart, sliding over the sensitive nub before slipping back into your entrance. You didn’t think Subong would be any good, but here he was driving you crazy. 

“I was that good, huh?” his voice filled your ear, pulling you from your wet dreams. “So good you dream about it?” You responded with a weary whine. “You sounded so sweet whimpering my name just now. You should do it again.” 

You whined at the hands toying with your nipples. His fingers whirled slowly around the softness to stimulate them, which wasn’t hard to do. That familiar tightness built between your thighs. It had been a long time since anyone coaxed this feeling out of you. You reached around through Thanos’s arms, grabbing the nape of his neck to touch as much as you could. He grinded into you, his hardness poking against your ass each time and causing him to groan. Whether it was the pills or you really had talked in your sleep, you didn’t care. You didn’t want him to stop. 

“Open your legs,” he whispered, turning your head to draw you in for a kiss. His tongue slipped over yours in the deep kiss, passionate like the first time. He explored your mouth with his tongue before ending it with a few soft pecks. “Let me see how wet you’ve gotten.” 

You let him slip off your sweatpants to reveal the plain cotton underwear. Rubbing your thighs together, you knew there must be a small wet patch already there. You got confirmation when three fingers rubbed over it, and he groaned. 

“It must’ve been a nice dream if you’re this wet already,” he said, lightly dotting kisses on your neck. “I remember how wet you got for me in that dressing room. It was running down your thighs when I started fucking you. You remember that, don’t you, baby? You remember how sticky and sloppy your pussy was before I railed you?”

“Ye-yes…” You let go of his hair to feel down his body to his center. He quivered at your touch, breathing heavily as you reached the bulge pressing to you. “I remember how hard you were by the time I put you in my mouth.” 

“Best blowjob I ever had,” said Thanos, pushing into your hand as he spread your wetness through your panties. “I got so jealous when I heard you started dating someone. I would’ve treated you a billion times better than him,” he traced his tongue along your ear, “And fucked you as much as you wanted.” 

“Why do I believe that?” you giggled, giving his cock a squeeze. 

Thanos chuckled as he turned your head to kiss you. His tongue instantly darting into your mouth, your arousal grew feeling him harden in your hand. Not particularly big, you knew he’d make you see stars by the time you finished. You slid over the hard tip before teasing the sensitive underside. You couldn’t stop thinking about him inside you. His thickness pulsing and twitching in his boxers brought memories of how perfectly he’d filled you that night. Nico wasn’t very big, but Thano’s was the perfect length. 

He’d also gone longer. 

Soon, Thanos pushed through your panties, and a rush of cold air made you tremble. Two fingers holding your swollen lips open, a third one flicked over your clitoris. You flinched at the single swipe, earning light chuckles before he did it a second time. The tip of his finger rolling around it, you put your hand in his boxers to feel his hot, hard cock on your fingers. A light trickle of precum became the lube you used to coat his tip. The squishy bulb leaked into your palm in every stroke, and his low moans filled your ear. You sensed his need beginning to build with yours, making you stroke him more. 

“Pl-please,” you whimpered, eyes closing and back arching as he teased your entrance with two fingers. “Please…”

“You’ll get it soon, baby,” Thanos promised, free hand sliding up to your throat where he held in your place. “You’ll get it really soon. Be a good girl and be quiet for me. We wouldn’t want to wake anyone else up.” 

Your leg going back over his, Thanos pinned it down with his arm. Volume really should be a concern, but the overwhelming pleasure overcame that sense. You squirmed in his hold while he teased you. Spreading your juices around, you heard the faint slick sounds in every move. It was when he slipped the fingers inside that your thighs closed, trapping his hand there. 

“No, no, no,” he said, pulling your thigh back up, “You’re keeping these open for me.” 

“Subong,” you whined quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He sunk them deep, wriggling the tips around as he curled them. “How can I touch you if they’re closed? You have to keep them open if you want me to make you feel good,” he continued, seeing you moan and writhe from his touches, “Just turn your brain off, and let me take care of you.”

His palm tapping your clit made your thighs and legs tremble. Your back arched against him as your hips moved into his hand. They reached right to your g-spot like they’d done the first time. You recalled everyone having gone home, but you’d stayed to keep rehearsing in your dressing room. He’d come innocently, wanting to talk about music and songwriting, but then it became less innocent. The thought it might’ve been a bet between the men came to you, yet it had been a while and you thought he was cute. It’d been by luck that nobody knew about what you two had done in the dressing room. 

“You hear that?” He asked, as he fingered you quickly. He made sure you heard the squishing sounds of your sex gripping his fingers. “That’s all you, sweetie. That’s the sound of your sweet pussy drenched and wet.”

Your body shivered as he went deeper and faster, the sensation crippling you. The deep, tongue-clashing kiss you then shared was what sent you over. Your body suddenly became sensitive to his touch. Muscles tensing in their grasp, eyes squeezed shut as you restrain your orgasm with his mouth, you got lost in the euphoria coursing in your like a drug. 

You didn’t have a moment to process anything before the cock in your hand replaced his fingers. Thanos continued the steady pace, holding onto your thigh to keep your legs spread. You could feel him spreading you out, mixing your wetness with his own inside your pussy. Like last time, he hit your core dead center and had you grinding into him for more inches. His faint whimper at your hips whirling to his stroked your ego a bit. 

“You had sounded hot too, you know,” you moaned between kisses, keeping his hand on your pussy. 

“Oh yeah?” Thanos lifting your leg up and changing his angle slightly. 

“Yes,” you said, clenching your jaw as you suppressed more moans. “I love hearing guys moan.”

He took immediate advantage of this information. Lips to your ear, his groans tickled the edges. Hearing it out loud, even in the quiet room, lets you imagine all the pleasure he must be experiencing because of you. Your walls dragged across his cock in each thrust, and you purposefully clenched them to make yourself tighter for him. Thanos drew closer as he lifted your thigh upwards, holding you by your ass instead as he thrusted faster. It showed in the way he gripped your body close to him, wanting to touch more of you. You thanked God you didn’t have anyone sleeping above you. 

You were jelly by the time he pulled you underneath him and forced your legs open. As you knew he would, he gently tapped and rubbed against your clit. Overstimulated but wanting more, you cupped your breasts and brushed your nipples for added pleasure. Thanos didn’t allow this. Pushing your hands aside, he pinned them to your sides as he pushed his cock inside you. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him, loving every inch he gave you in his thrusting. 

“Just as good as I remember,” he grunted in your ear, not holding back anymore. The bunk might’ve pushed into the wall if it weren’t bolted to the floor. Yet, the light smack of his hips to yours could be heard. “Best pussy I’ve ever had.”

The best dick you’d ever had, including Nico’s, though you didn’t say so out loud. Your mouth could not word the thoughts going through your head. Even back then, Thanos’s cock turned you into a senseless, incoherent mess. You could lay in that bed and take him forever. In the half glow of the dorm, you could see his shirtless body hovering over you. Dark hair hanging over his face, eyes full of lust, he’d look the same in the dressing room. 

“I'd vote X if it meant I get to have-have this,” he said in your ear, hands keeping yours to the bed as he took long strokes. “Get to have this tight pussy to myself…all the time…whenever I want…”

“Subong,” you whined, your second orgasm approaching.

“I love when you say my name,” he groaned against your shoulder, “Say it again, baby.” 

You said his name like a mantra, the word matching the pace of his hips. You noticed he went particularly hard the times you whined his name instead. He released your wrists and knelt up, lifting your hips from the bed. In this new, elevated position, you could only grind on him as he pumped himself inside you. His muscles constricted from the hold his orgasm and position had on him. As your walls squeezed him, his head fell back, eyes closed and mouth open in every quiet moan he forced back. You reached out for him, grabbing his forearms and keeping him close this way. Trembling in his hold, Thanos sensed your next orgasm and chased it down. 

He stuck two fingers in your mouth right as you came around him. Moans muffled by the digits pushing down on your tongue, occasionally pushing to your throat. You forgot where you were at that moment. Pleasure and bliss washed over you in waves, crashing down in trembles and twitching. It controlled every sense in your body, keeping you going but also wearing you down. You held onto his wrist to keep his fingers in your mouth, regardless of the drool they created. Eyes locked on one another, he didn’t tear away even when his own climax approached. Something deeper happened in that moment that had nothing to do with him cumming inside you. Legs hooked around his waist, you kept him close as he emptied the last few drops into your cunt. 

“Fuck,” he huffed, settled between your legs and head on your shoulder, “Fucking amazing.”

“Very.”

This is where you expected him to roll over, mutter a goodbye, and start heading back to his bunk. He didn’t. Thanos did lay beside you in the bed, but he didn’t leave. You didn’t mind. It felt nice having someone next to you again. Perhaps you’d let him come back tomorrow night just to have the closeness. Feeling his cum starting to leak from you, you knew you should do something about it, but why? You might not make it out of this place. What did it matter if anything came from this? 

“I know what you mean, by the way,” he said in the quietness of the dorm. 

“About what?”

“Dying twice.” 

The stab wound in your heart reopened at his words. “I was standing on the bridge when that ddjaki guy came up to me,” he said. “I thought about ending it all. Who was I without my music? Okay, the money thing really affected me too, but not like how losing my passion did. It felt hard to make anything. Putting words to my feelings was hard, and it didn’t give me the same excitement it used to. It was like I’d already died, so big deal if I fell from the bridge?”

The confession surprised you. Thanos never struck you as the type to have that mindset. But, as you turned to look at him, you realized you weren’t talking to Thanos, the cocky rapper. You were seeing Choi Subong, a man who once had passions and dreams that became shattered in a single second. A lot like you. Snuggling to him, you put your head on his shoulder as he put an arm around you. You pictured him standing on the edge of the bridge, looking down at the water and contemplating everything that happened to him. He’d lost the lifestyle he worked so hard to achieve, and going back to the bottom was rough. 

“But, we’re both good rappers,” he said, “Maybe if we win this, we’ll get our money and our passion back.”

“And if we lose?”

“We’ll be dead and nothing will matter. So, that’s why I’m playing like I’m going to die anyways. If you play like that, you’re not scared.”

“Being high for most of it helps too,” you sneered, hand finding the cross laying nearby. 

“It does,” he chuckled. “Want one?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. 

Why did it matter? You’d already died once. Dying a second time wouldn’t be so bad. 

****

A/N: haha love that my first squid game fic is for Thanos. I have others on the way, but hope you enjoyed my first!

[maikissed]

the day I saw your eyes, I stayed

jude bellingham x reader

warnings: none, just a tad of sexual tension, yeah

note: there is going to be part 2! I planned to write the whole story in one shot but I gotta go to sleep now and was too excited about this rubbish (jk, I love it tbh). And he scored today, whoop sorry for any mistakes!!!!

Rose got herself a new boyfriend. The name brought up in presence of your girlfriends caused much of a fuss. It was a grand revelation and as much as it surprised you as well, you did not share the enthusiasm as every other girl in the room. Not because you felt envious, jealousy was never your thing, you rather grew worrisome. The excitation over the fact that Rose secured herself a football player of such range – famous, a hot topic, high quality player, one of the most valuable characters in the England national team, highly payed, and to add to that: uncommonly gorgeous - absolutely knocked your friends of their feet, but to you… To you it was a sign of massive trouble. People like him belonged to a world where individuals had their impeccable ways to draw from their fame, money and phenomenon as much as they could, despite the morality or ethics. Rose always mingled among various groups of people, there were musicians, actors, even politicians. She was a lovely girl, very pretty, her modelling career developed quickly, spectacularly. But she still haven’t made her name the way she aimed to. You suspected the boys she chose were always an occasion, a special addition to make her reach for more, to be seen, to feel special and unique. She was determined, regardless of the consequences, regardless of the fact how many times she has suffered and burned herself even almost to the point of absolute destruction. It felt awful to even reminisce it. But that’s how it’s been so far, it was the path she has chosen. Although this time this whole situation felt much different, there was a spark in her eyes that could tell you many things. But you would define it this way: she intended to hold onto him, she wanted to keep him. He seemed like the greatest prize. But who would have thought that the massive trouble you feared from the very start would be your burden to deal with?

Jude Bellingham.

Girls were over the moon when the time has come and Rose invited you all to join them in a private lounge in one of the most exclusive clubs in London. You scoffed when you heard the name of the place, you remembered the time when you and Lucia tried to sneak in there, but the bodyguard was too smart to fall for your theatrics. Only precisely selected people could party there. It was one of those grand and fancy places. So you found yourself invited, at last. Yet you weren’t very thrilled about the way you were about to spend your Saturday night. It turned out you would be the only single person there.

And him? The man, the hot topic himself? He was taller than you envisioned, maybe the hair added to that? His smile truly was bright, he was well built, broad shoulders, but not too muscular, well, he was an athlete. The Brummie dialect annoyed you at the start, but the itch seemed to cease as you payed attention to the tone of his voice, there was nothing particular about it, it was just right, good, not screechy, not too deep just… pleasant. He was an amiable guy, you thought to yourself, polite and friendly at the first contact. You realised you were a careful observer until he turned to you to greet. Now you were very much noticed, now you had to act as a part of the events, not a shadow and analyser. And situation very much changed. Time seemed to slow down so suddenly, you found yourself in the strangest state of unconsciousness, like a scene in a movie where the background blurs and any noise is muted, when the spectator is deprived of any other senses despite the sight to notice those specific details that are supposed to made him feel the sublimity of a given moment. And the source of it was in his eyes, you realised, and the way he smiled softly as he extended his hand to you. It was strange and disturbing, his eyes seemed to be the darkest ones you’ve ever seen, but you most definitely had seen eyes like his before, no doubt about it. You took a breath, blinked, fought to not fall into this depth that almost sucked you in. He was smiling, now something slightly impudent about it, and you realised he truly was stunningly gorgeous. Strangely, insanely attractive. Just a simple look into his eyes made you stumble into a realisation that there was something different about this man. And it frightened you.

You did say your name back, did you?

As the night went by you decided to stay in your attentive observer state. You felt safer there, although decency inquired you to engage in few conversations with your friends. Tonight you felt tense, carefully sipping the wine, you tried with all your might to relax and stop examining so intensely the boy seated opposite you. Few new conclusions you came into in the last hour was the fact that he was a great interlocutor, he listened as well, and his smile was one of the most pleasurable things you’ve experienced in your lifetime. You just couldn’t take your eyes off. And another conclusion was that him and Rose was nothing of exclusive. No lingering stares, no secret touches. After all, they met quite recently. She wondered if she bagged him already. And if so, would they all be there if she did? He did not seem like the kind to make such effort to get himself a girl he was not seriously interested in. Rose was not the type to act restrained and unavailable. She crawled into many beds the first night she met someone. You kept yourself far from casual hook-ups and one night stands, just a simple thought of it made you uncomfortable. But for her it was a common thing, if you could use such words. So, was he really interested?

After a while all of your friends decided to use the night to the fullest as the alcohol finally kicked in, rushing to the dancefloor and you truly couldn’t find the spur to join them. You were seriously thinking about taking a French leave. And you almost succeeded.

“You’re not enjoying yourself much, are you?” a well known voice reached you from behind and you turned your head in its direction.

Something in your gut jumped as you spotted Jude. He took a seat beside you. You smiled as his scent reached you, fresh, citrus with addition of something stronger and… alluring.

“I’ve had a long day. Tired, I guess” a safe and simple answer.

His full attention was on you, no one here to accompany you. It begun to feel overwhelming because you did not expected his gaze to be so intense.

“I know the feeling. Find myself in a constant state of weariness lately, cannot get rid of it” he played with his glass, the liquid looked like orange juice.

“Well, you live quite the fast and exciting life” you noted, observing as the corner of his mouth rose a little at your comment.

“Where are you from?” he asked, not continuing the subject you just raised.

“Here, London, born and raised” you smiled again before lowering your gaze, finding the glass of wine interesting “Became as gloomy and morose as this city”

“I wouldn’t describe you with such words” his voice was soft when he said it, something itched in you to ask what words would he use to describe you, but raising the glass of wine up to your lips saved you from that. You hoped you didn’t blush.

“My grandmother always says that I’m an old soul. Emphasizes it like it’s a virtue” you continued.

“That’s a very interesting thing to say about someone. Mine says that I’m a lovely companion although I use way too foul language and it’s scandalous” he frowned funnily and you laughed at the information, he quickly accompanied you.

“Well, I haven’t yet got the occasion to hear some of that tonight”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman” he murmured “It would be improper to throw fucks around in presence of a pretty girl” a lively glint in his eyes as he looked at you.

Now you definitely blushed.

The conversation flowed from there, and you realised you grew more comfortable with each passing minute. He truly was a great listener, and a good companion. He made you laugh many times and suddenly you stopped regretting leaving your apartment for this night out. He was not daft or arrogant as you might have presumed before you met him, being smothered by all this money he had and a name he’s gotten himself at such young age. The complexity of his persona could be spotted in his eyes as you payed closer attention, but it was his words and the way he picked on any subject you brought, that expressed his maturity and wide perception. You haven’t met a guy like him in a long time.

“What are you guys doing here? Come on down, join us!” it was Charlotte’s comment as she came to the longue after a while.

You haven’t even realised how much time has passed and how much alcohol you have already poured into yourself. You only picked on that as you stood up, dizziness hit you like lighting but you composed yourself, agreeing on Charlotte’s and then Jude’s proposition. As soon as you joined the dancefloor, Rose spotted you both, throwing her hands around Jude, guiding him deeper, keeping him closer. He kept his eyes on you as she did it and a strange feeling stroked you as you kept his gaze. Charlotte grabbed you by your hands, singing the words out loud, the song was energetic and lively, you laughed at your friend. Others from your pack nowhere to be seen. So you loosened up and tried to keep up with your drunk companion. The dancefloor became quite chaotic, people jumping around, your eyes landing on Jude from time to time and to your surprise he was looking your way as well. There was a lean and tall guy that jumped in front of Jude, almost stumbling over him and you laugh at that, seeing that Jude laughed as well, his attention still on you. You wanted to share this fun with him directly, but it was forbidden since the realest fact of this night was that he was not yours to have.

“I need to pee!” Rose shouted near you and you turned, watching as she grabbed Charlotte with her, leaving the dancefloor.

You stopped and decided to follow your friends but felt someone’s presence behind your back before you made any move.

“Now I can tell you’re enjoying your night!” Jude called next to your ear, this way you could hear him well despite the thumping music.

When you turned around you noticed how close he stood, you had to raise your head to look at his face, his big and dark eyes gazing down at you, full lips twisted into an amused smile. You returned the smile.

“You are a terrible dancer” you shouted back to him, your voice filled with laughter.

“That’s a fact” he nodded “But you’re quite good, show me more” he reached for your hips to draw you deeper into the dancefloor and you laughed out, throwing your head back as he lead you with him.

You have not payed much attention to the closeness of your bodies as long as the songs were quick and your movements kept rapidly changing with the rhythm. Still, you haven’t realised the sound slowing, a more sensuous song sounded from the loudspeaker, you knew this one. If the reason could break through the basses that reached your ears, you would finish your dance right this moment. But the fact was that it did not. So you continued, with your hands placed at his shoulders you begun to move your hips. Your eyes closed as you turned around, your back to him, he was not touching you, not directly. He took your hands in his and you started to raise it up in the air, you smiled when you felt his breath on your ear. Your joined hands stayed up longer, his on the other hand slowly trailed lower and lower, down your forearms, then your shoulders, then down your body. His touch sure yet lenient and soft at the same time electrified you. Carefully and attentively, making sure to not touch your breasts on the way, he rested them on your hips, feeling the rhythm you kept on. You were not sure if it was him that pressed on you or was it purely your movement, but your back met with his front fully, and a sharp intake of breath stuck in  your throat at the realisation. His hands still rested on your hips, making your body move with no pause. You were close, too close, you could already feel too much. But you found it difficult to part with him, to stop it and call it improper. Your eyes wide open but blind. You only focused on the sense of touch, feeling him moving with you. Your hands fell down to reach his head and then levelled on his nape and you kept them there. Feeling something growing inside of you, along with a rough shot of adrenaline that made your heart beat strongly against ribs. Once more his breath landed on your ear, close, closer. A strange sensation squeezed your throat and you realised you swallowed back a moan. It was like a rough strike, you turned around to face him, with intention to take a step back, but he held you closer, pressing his palm against your back. You sighed and met his eyes. Dark, darker. You wanted to run.

“Thank you for the dance” you said innocently and he watched the movement of your lips as you spoke.

A daring smirk appeared on his mouth and you shuddered. Were you trapped now?

You had to run. So you did.

[uses-for-fics]

Rekindled | Manny Rivera

The scent of dry-erase markers and fresh off-the-printer paper filled YN’s classroom as she straightened the last set of desks. Any minute now, the district representative would arrive, and she felt like a nervous wreck. If she could prove that Abbott Elementary was a wonderful and supportive place for students, maybe, just maybe, the district would help with funding.

A soft knock at the door made her straighten her blazer and take a deep breath.

“Is this room 124?” a deep voice asked.

“Yes! You must be—” Her words caught in her throat as she turned to face him.

Manny Rivera.

He stepped inside, his presence knocking the air from her lungs. It had been years since their bittersweet goodbye in college, when they chose career paths over love. Now, he was standing in front of her. In her school. In her classroom.

His dark eyes flickered with recognition, mirroring the surprise on her face. But when he spoke, his tone was all business.

“I’m Manny Rivera, the district representative shadowing your classroom today.” He extended a hand.

For a split second, she hesitated. Then, schooling her features, she took his hand in a firm shake. “Mr. Rivera.” Her voice was steady, even as knots twisted in her stomach.

The air between them buzzed with unspoken words. She struggled to focus, her carefully planned pitch for funding slipping from her mind.

Sensing the shift, Manny cleared his throat and broke the silence. “So… what’s the lesson plan for today?” He rocked on his heels, a faint smile playing on his lips.

YN blinked, then forced herself to snap back into the moment. “Oh! Right.” She returned his smile. “I usually start by taking attendance, then move into some light yoga.”

Manny raised a brow. “Yoga?”

“I find it helps wake the kids up, especially since some of them come in still half-asleep. It gets their brains going in a healthy way—and gives latecomers a chance to settle in without missing important work.” She shrugged. “It happens to the best of us.”

His smile widened. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

“After that, we’re continuing our lesson on vowels. I’ll give them a short four-question quiz to see who’s struggling and who’s ready to move on. Then it’s their turn at the library, recess, and later, a fun color-by-number activity—except they have to solve addition problems to get the numbers.”

As she spoke, her confidence returned, and her enthusiasm shone through.

Manny nodded, clearly impressed. “Sounds like a great plan. Just tell me where to sit, and the classroom is yours.”

Her nerves hadn’t completely faded, but as she gestured to a spot near her desk, one thought echoed in her mind: ‘This is going to be an interesting day.’

———

The morning went by smoothly, and soon enough, it was time for the vowel quiz. YN walked around the room as the students focused, her heels clicking softly against the tile floor.

As she passed one of the desks, she noticed a small hand shoot up hesitantly.

"Ms. LN?" a boy named Jordan whispered, glancing nervously at his paper.

She crouched beside him, offering a reassuring smile. "What’s up, buddy?"

"I… I think I don’t get number two," he admitted, chewing on his pencil. "But if I get it wrong, does that mean I fail?"

YN’s heart softened. She placed a gentle hand on his desk. "Oh, sweetheart, there’s no way to fail this. It’s just to see where everyone is, so I know how to help. You're learning, and that’s what matters."

Jordan still looked unsure, but before she could say more, Manny knelt beside them.

"You know, Jordan," Manny said, his voice warm, "when I was your age, I thought quizzes were scary too but, you know what helped?"

Jordan looked up at him, curious. "What?"

"Thinking of them as puzzles. You just take your time, figure out the pieces, and before you know it, everything clicks."

Jordan considered this, then nodded slowly and picked up his pencil again.

YN met Manny’s gaze, and for a moment, they shared a look—silent appreciation passing between them.

—At the Library—

The kids sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes locked onto Manny as he held up ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’. He was animated as he read, using different voices for each part, making the story come to life in a way that had the students giggling and hanging onto every word.

"Alright," Manny said, turning the page. "Who thinks this little guy can actually eat all this food?"

A few kids covered their mouths to suppress laughter, while others eagerly shook their heads.

"He’s gonna get a tummy ache!" one of them blurted out.

Manny gasped dramatically. "You think so? But what happens next?"

YN stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching with an amused smile. He was a natural with the kids, effortlessly keeping their attention, something even seasoned teachers struggled with. The way he engaged them, encouraged their curiosity, it was… endearing. And, if she was being completely honest with herself, maybe even a little attractive.

"I saw that," came a voice from behind her.

YN nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to find Melissa Schemmenti standing next to a cart stacked high with books, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face.

"Saw what?" YN asked, feigning innocence.

Melissa arched a brow. "You checking out Mr. District Representative over there like he’s a brand-new book you’re thinking about borrowing."

"What?! No, I—" YN sputtered, her face heating up. "I was just—he’s observing my class, so I was—letting him observe!"

Melissa scoffed, reaching for a book on the cart. "More like you’re observing him." She shot YN a look before casually walking off toward the checkout desk, leaving her standing there, flustered, arms still awkwardly crossed over her chest.

YN exhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus on the kids again, on anything other than the way Manny’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows or how his voice softened when he spoke to the students.

Melissa wasn’t entirely wrong, but YN wasn’t about to admit that.

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and tried—tried—to keep her emotions in check but as Manny caught her eye from across the room and gave her a small, knowing smile, she knew it was going to be harder than she thought.

———

"Go on, take your break," Ms. Teagues said, waving YN off with a knowing smile. "I’ll keep an eye on the little rascals."

YN hesitated, but the pile of vowel quizzes waiting on her desk was calling her name. "You’re a lifesaver."

She headed back inside, surprised to find Manny already at her desk, sleeves rolled up, flipping through the tests.

"You don’t have to do that," she said, setting down her coffee.

He smirked. "I know. But I figured I’d help."

He reached into his bag, pulling out a container. The scent hit her first. Warm, spicy, and familiar.

"Are those… enchiladas?" she asked, eyes widening.

"Homemade," he confirmed, opening the lid. "You want some?"

She hesitated, but the smell was too good to resist. "I mean… if you’re offering."

Manny was halfway through marking a paper when he spoke, almost absentmindedly.

"I miss you, you know."

YN froze, her pen hovering above the test she was grading. The words landed like a sudden gust of wind, knocking the air from her lungs. She blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

When she didn’t respond right away, Manny let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. "I don’t mean to put you on the spot," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It’s just… being here, watching you do what you love…it reminds me of how much I enjoyed being around you."

YN finally set her pen down, but she still couldn’t find the words to say.

Manny sighed and continued, his voice softer now. "But I don’t regret the path I chose after college. If I had to do it all over again, I would. Because I love my job. I love what I do, and I know you love what you do, too." He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "The only thing I ever really wished was that we could be on good terms, you know? That we could… not have this weight between us."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at something deep in her chest. Finally, YN smiled, small at first, then genuine. "Manny, I don’t resent you for choosing your career. I think it’s great that you love your job because… I love mine, too. And if things had gone differently, who knows where we’d be now? But the truth is, I only ever wished the best for you."

Manny looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

It was one of those rare silences that wasn’t awkward, but rather filled with a quiet understanding. A moment suspended in time, where the weight of the past and the possibilities of the future seemed to hang in the air between them.

His gaze flickered down to her lips for just a second before he cleared his throat and looked away, a small, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Before either of them could say anything else, the door suddenly swung open.

"Hey, YN! Sorry to interrupt," Jacob called out, stepping inside with a handful of supplies. "Do you have any extra glue sticks? I kinda miscalculated my science activity supply list, and now I’m in a bit of a bind—literally."

YN let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she stood up. "Yeah, Jacob. Check the supply cabinet."

Manny took the interruption as a cue. He pushed back from the desk, stretching as he stood. "I should get going anyway."

YN looked up at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah." He smiled, softer this time. "But I’ll be back tomorrow. Gotta monitor more classes, after all."

As he walked to the door, he hesitated for just a second before turning back.

"See you tomorrow, Ms. Ln."

She smirked. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Rivera."

And just like that, he was gone but the feeling he left behind? That lingered.

[bradshawed]

NEWTON'S LAWS, CHAPTER 3

main & series masterlist !

introducing... the lion and his lioness prey pairing: f1!raphael cameron & reporter!reader

An apple fell from a tree and well... you know the rest. Much like Newton's apple, you fell right in his path, the lion's path, and he deemed you his prey. Silly boy. That was his first mistake.

A tale as old as time, Newton & his gravity, faceclaim: HoYeon Jung & various pinterest girls

warnings! fem!reader, use of y/n, swearing, rafe slander, mentions of d*nica and w*rd

chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4...

y/nlvr

liked by cami, user1, naurcleorr, user6 and others

y/nlvr first of all f*ck u r*fe c*meron, do your research before you make comments like that. which leads me to my second point. since y/n is blowing up, i can no longer gatekeep my motorsports queen so i might as well educate y'all.. here's the y/nlore!

y/n raced in the fim juniorgp world championship and won at 14. there was a min age of 16 to enter the motogp then, it's now been raised to 18, so considering that and being a women in motorsports, she chose to focus on her studies as a backup option.

y/n fell in love with reporting while studying for her bsc in psychology and started her youtube channel around then, documenting her experiences including her data science internship with red bull.

she's a real life bad*ss who's opened up so many opportunities for students wanting to pursue a career in motorsports, so go put some respect on my mother's name rafecameron1 !!!!

view all comments ...

user1 you seeing this rafecameron1?

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know. And, if you want to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts (credits to Zya).

taglist for f=ma, @dearapril @edwardslvrr @zya8tracks @potatodirectioner @poppysrin @a-beaverhausen @judesgfirl @pogueprincesa

note! credits to zya for her layout ft. cleo and barry <3 sorry again for the short chapter ml's and for the w*rd mention.

would you be interested in a community for this series? with little sneak peaks, etc

[phoward89]

Platonic!Crassus Snow, Dark!Crassus Snow, Newborn!Daughter!Reader

Based on this ask.

General Crassus Snow was a cold, stern, strict, no nonsense military man. He made a career out of the military, just like his father and his father before him. His younger brother also chose the military path.

Cadmus had married right after graduating the Academy, had a baby, and then signed up for the Peacekeepers only to be stationed in 12, where the Snow family patriarch Commander Xanthos Snow oversaw the Peacekeepers of the coalmine district. One of Crassus' best friends, Javani Halvir, was serving as an officer in 12 underneath the command of Xanthos Snow- so of course he agreed to keep an eye out on his friend's younger brother while said friend attended the University to study Military Strategies.

Once Crassus had graduated University with a degree in Military Strategies (thanks to stealing his friend Casca Highbottom’s paper of drunken and horrendous ideas for a punishment so dire for one's enemies that those enemies would never rise up against then again) he enlisted into the Peacekeepers as an officer, did a couple months of officer's training, and was sent to PK Base-D12 to serve under his father; alongside his brother and his buddy.

In time Xanthos retired and went back to his Corso penthouse in the Capitol, causing Crassus to become the new Commander. And while visiting his family during leave he had a very fast courtship with a young woman that he was introduced to by his former friend Casca before he joined the military. And of course, that courtship resulted in a marriage and the birth of an heir.

A male heir named Coriolanus.

Shortly after Coriolanus' birth Xanthos Snow died. Sadly, Crassus was unable to get time off to attend the funeral, but he sent his buddy Colonel Javani Halvir and his family in his stead.

Crassus ran the Peacekeepers in District 12 for 5 years until the districts rebelled and war broke out. A war that he was forced to fight in. But he had studied Military Strategies just for the occasion such as a war. A general must be prepared and ready.

The rebels bombed the Capitol, hoping to weaken the city. Sadly, that air strike resulted in Demeter Snow, the young, beautiful, vapid wife of Crassus to go into unexpected and premature labor. With no help, since a doctor was unable to make it due to the bombs, the family cook and Grandma’am (Crassus' mother) had to help her deliver the baby.

Despite being weeks early and small, the baby survived her birth. Tragically, Demeter didn't. She hemorrhaged and died.

Her death shook up the entire Snow family. Grandma'am had already lost one daughter-in-law and now she lost another. And poor Coriolanus lost his mother while Trigris Snow lost her Auntie, who was like a mother to her.

Grandma'am knew she had to call up her son and tell him the news. News she knew would upset him, considering he had just lost his younger brother weeks earlier in a small skirmish against the rebels near the mines. Cadmus was there, along with a few other men, to ensure rebels wouldn't uprise and take over the mine. But sadly the rebels attacked and slaughtered the handful of peacekeepers tasked with safeguarding the mine.

After receiving the call from his mother, Crassus put his Colonel in charge and took an emergency leave to Capitol City, Panem to attend his wife's funeral and check up on his only living family.

“Crassus, come see your daughter.” Grandma'am told her son after treating him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek once he entered the penthouse.

Crassus wasn't too happy about having a second child. He already had his heir so he didn't see the news for another child.

And especially a girl.

Daughter's weren't as valuable as sons in society, so in his mind the newborn baby was useless. A beast of burden even.

“I don't need to see her, mother.” Crassus coldly bite out while making his way to his study.He was in town for the funeral and had to make quick arrangements for it so we he knew his mother hadn't done that yet.

All Grandma'am did was have the coroner take Demeter's lifeless body to the funeral home, but didn't set the funeral arrangements in motion. She told the mortician that her son would handle it when he got to town.

His mother's lucky that he was able to entrust the base and the troops in Javani's hands otherwise she'd be planning a funeral or enlisting the help of the neighbor Pluribus to do it.

“You need to see your daughter that Demeter died giving you before you make calls and arrangements for her.” Grandma'am lectured her son in a firm motherly way while following right behind him as he strolled down the hall towards his personal office.

“That baby's not going anywhere, she'll still be in her crib when I'm done.”

“Crassus, Demeter would want you to see that precious baby girl of yours before calling the funeral parlor on her account.”

“Mother…” Crassus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off his growing frustrations. He couldn't tell his mother that he didn't care about his newborn daughter, not so soon after his wife's death; it would just send her into a tailspin.

Coming up to her son's side and giving him a motherly smack on his arm, the old woman dressed in her fineries seriously told her son, “Crassus Xanthos Snow, you're going into the nursery and you're going to hold your daughter even if I have to drag you by the ear to do it.”

“Mother, you're too short to be dragging me by the ears.” Crassus dryly chuckles. But he knows his mother's not amused by the way she cuts her eyes at him. At any minute she'll start lecturing him, which is something he wants to avoid. So, with a heavy sigh, the general relents. “Fine, let's go to the nursery.”

Grandma'am opened the door to the nursery, which was also her granddaughter Tigris' room. The young girl offered to share her room with her newborn baby cousin once the topic of where the crib should be placed came up. The kind hearted girl was so selfish in doing that.

Crassus walked by his mother and into the room, only for Grandma'am to join him. He spotted the crib in the corner right away. In fact, it was the same old wooden crib that was used for his son Coriolanus- hell for him and his late younger brother too.

The side of the room the mahogany crib was at had a couple of floral pictures hanging on the wall for a girlie decor. On the other side of the room was his niece's twin bed, her desk, her notebook, and various fashion doodles displayed on the wall.

Oh, how the decor in the room seemed to be split right down the middle, just like a rock.

“Crassus, come.” His mother told him, linking her arm in his and dragging him over to the sleeping newborn.

Crassus looked down at his newborn daughter and immediately realized that she was too small due to coming early. That his daughter would need to put weight on and fast if were to survive the winter. He didn't say a word, just bent down to pick up his daughter.

He honestly didn't want to hold her, but did because his mother was at his side and he didn't want to hear her lecture him.

Crassus cradled his newborn in his arms, only for the baby to blink open her eyes and look up at him.

Crassus was melted by the innocent look on his daughters eyes.

In your eyes.

Yes, you're the daughter of the ruthless, cold hearted, stern, and hateful General Crassus Snow. A man that locked his heart behind a frozen wall of ice. One that a single look from you melted.

The innocence in your eyes reminded him of a girl he once loved. And he vowed to be a good father to you.

But he didn't vow to be a good father to your older brother, Coriolanus. In fact, Crassus felt that his son was a weakling that needed to toughen up. But in your case, Crassus wanted to protect you from the world because all the world’s an arena and not everyone in it has good intentions.

Crassus never thought he wanted a second child let alone a daughter, but just one look from you and your father was vowing to protect you with his life.

Y/N Snow, the second child of Crassus and Demeter Snow; the darling miracle baby that brings joy amongst the ruins of death.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[jqmalikhsgib]

quest

one

you never expected to be here. sitting at your shared home with your husband while he was out screwing someone else.

aaron wasn’t the type. he was a great man, a traditional man, a caring and loving man. but he was also just a man.

you knew he still loved his ex wife and would do anything for her. but you never expected he’d cheat on you with her.

they had a great relationship. dated in high school, was each others first relationship, first kiss, first time. they got married two years into college and settled down once they finally had their careers.

haley soon decided she wanted to be a traditional stay at home mom someday. she ended up quitting her job while aaron supported them both and when he decided to switch his career paths she supported him one thousand percent.

soon enough they got pregnant and welcomed the most adorable little boy in the world, jack hotchner.

unfortunately aaron chose work over his family. haley couldn’t take it anymore and decided on a divorce. four years later he met you.

aaron never thought he’d move on. he loved haley. she was his world. losing her made him lose apart of himself. he was a broken man for so long.

dave was the one who encouraged aaron to move on and date. he needed to get haley off his mind and start to live his life the way he should. maybe he shouldn’t have listened.

a year and a half in aaron proposed. he was so in love with you. he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you in his arms. you were so good to him, good to jack.

the two of you wasted no time getting married. deciding to go to the courthouse and sign the papers the very next day.

but two years into this marriage he had changed. he was cold to you. he didn’t even look you in the eyes anymore. he’d come home, get in bed, and go to sleep. no hello, no kisses, no hugs, nothing!

up until recently. he felt more chipper, kinder, his spirits were lifted. he came home with flowers and chocolates. he kissed you good morning and came home to make love to you. it was like he was himself again.

you should have known better. it was a clear sign he was cheating. he felt guilty so he shut you out at first. realizing he did, he decided to be a bit more present. showing you with gifts and love. god, how could you be so blind?

you found out from emily. she had caught them in his office one night. they begged her to keep it between them. she did for a while.

but emily felt guilty too. she had to tell you! it was the right thing to do.

not knowing what to do when she broke the news you just smiled and told her you’d handle it. she was scared what that meant. but she trusted you wouldn’t hurt a fly. all the years of knowing you, she knew you’d never harm anyone.

she also knew you loved jack. you’d never harm anyone he loved. and you wouldn’t.

but you knew this would break his little heart. you couldn’t face aaron! you couldn’t tell him that you knew to his face, no! so you packed up your things, grabbed your notebook, and now you’re currently writing a goodbye letter to aaron and one for jack.

aaron was away for work. he’d got a call and had to travel for a case. you knew by the look on his face it was a bad one. he’d most likely be gone for a week. once he’s back you knew he’d try to call.

but by then you’ll block his number, contact penelope, and make sure she hands aaron the divorce papers.

you didn’t want anything from him. you just wanted him to be happy with haley. it’s what they deserve, happiness. and if you weren’t his happiness, if you weren’t his everything, you refuse to take that from him.

aaron sighs. he was ready to go home. this case took a toll on him this week. he just wanted to be with his wife.

he had missed you. you were on his mind the whole time he was gone. and fuck, did he feel guilty.

the last few months he’s been cheating on you with haley. nothing physical happened, but emotionally, he cheated. at first he thought it would be best to get a divorce. work things out with haley and possibly be a family again. him, haley, and jack.

but he loved you! god he loved you. not like he loved haley. no! he didn’t love haley like he used to to anymore. he just missed his old self. she reminded him of his high school years.

he knew it was selfish. he shouldn’t do this to you. you deserved better.

being gone away from you this week has made him open his eyes. aaron was gonna end things with haley, tell you everything, and hope you’d forgive him and wanna work this out.

arriving home felt so different. aaron didn’t know why but he had this uneasy feeling. when he unlocked the front door to his house it was quiet.

all the lights were off and it was no sign of his wife. he was very confused. normally you’d have the kitchen lights on, leaving a note saying dinner is in the fridge while listening to a bit of jazz music while you read a book on the couch.

but it was quiet. dead silence.

aaron got nervous until he saw a note on the kitchen table. sighing, he walks to grab it happily. not knowing what was coming.

dear, aaron. by the time you get this i would most likely be gone. i know about you and haley. i suspected something but i pushed it down because it was no way you’d do that to me. but you did. i want you to know i don’t blame you, im not even mad at you. im hurt, sure. i wished i was her. maybe you’d love me half as much. but it’s no competing with haley. she was your first everything and you never forget your first.

i just want you to know i love you. ill always love you babe! you meant so much to me. and that little boy you got, he is my world! the last thing i wanna do is hurt him. just—tell him whatever you have to, okay? but make sure he knows this isn’t anyone’s fault. make sure he knows that no matter what i will always love the both of you.

let haley know i don’t blame her either. sometimes you gotta let your true love go to realize you were always meant to be. she let you go and now she wants you back. now im letting you go, my love. i hope you two have a very great life. i will love you forever aaron hotchner.

your love, yn hotchner

[fafnir19]

Bound by Blood and Magic

The sun had just begun its descent, casting a warm glow over the city, as Julia stepped out of her office building, her mind still buzzing with the success of her presentation. She straightened her already impeccable blazer, a confident smile playing on her lips. Julia had always been the ambitious one, determined to leave her small-town roots behind and make a name for herself in the corporate world. Her marketing expertise had brought her to the bustling metropolis, and she thrived in this environment, embracing the fast-paced lifestyle. As she walked towards the subway station, her thoughts drifted to Mario, her fiancé. He was the polar opposite of her—a free-spirited photographer with a heart as warm as the Mediterranean sun. Mario had supported her relentlessly, taking on the domestic responsibilities without complaint, understanding her drive to succeed. He was the anchor to her wild spirit.

As she walked towards the downtown area, she couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the evening ahead—a rare girls' night out with her sister, Cathrine. Julia and Cathrine were as different as night and day. Julia, with her sleek, blond hair and piercing hazel eyes, embodied modern sophistication, choosing to leave her magical heritage behind and forge her own path in the corporate world. On the other hand, Cathrine, with her flowing black hair and captivating emerald eyes, embraced their magical roots. She was a powerful witch, her spells and potions renowned among the magical community. Despite their contrasting lifestyles, the sisters shared an unbreakable bond. As Julia entered the lively bar, she spotted Cathrine sitting at a corner table, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. The witch's attire, a stylish blend of modern fashion and mystical allure, perfectly encapsulated her unique personality.

"You're late," Cathrine purred, her voice laced with playful accusation. "Sorry, work ran over," Julia replied, sliding into the booth across from her sister. "You know how it is." "Oh, I know," Cathrine said, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Always the dedicated career woman. But tell me, how is dear Mario?" Julia's face softened at the mention of her fiancé. "He's wonderful. He's been incredibly supportive of my career, taking care of the house while I climb the corporate ladder." Cathrine sipped her martini with a contemplative frown. “Honestly, Julia, you could do so much better than Mario,” Cathrine said, her voice laced with frustration. “I mean, he's such a—how do I put this nicely—weakling.” Julia chuckled, swirling the ice in her glass. “Weakling? You know he’s a fantastic photographer and supports my career. That’s strength in its own right.” Cathrine rolled her eyes, the emerald depths of her gaze piercing through the dim light. “But don’t you want a real man? Someone who’s strong and—” she leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “virile?” “I love Mario the way he is,” Julia said, her smile unwavering. “He’s got a heart of gold, and it’s not about being virile for me. It’s about partnership.” Cathrine’s brow furrowed as she set her glass down with a soft *thud*. “Have you even stopped taking the pill yet? With the wedding coming up, you should be thinking about starting a family.” Julia smirked, leaning forward, her dark hair falling over her shoulder. “I don’t want kids, Cathrine. Not now, not ever. Mario gets that, and I appreciate him for it. Kids would just put a risk on my career. Besides, we've agreed that Mario is responsible for contraception!” “Come on!” Cathrine exclaimed, her voice rising slightly. “A big family is so important for witches. It’s about security, about lineage. You should be popping out babies like it’s a tradition!” With a shake of her head, Julia countered, “You chose the way of the witch. That’s not my path. I don’t need a big family to protect me. I’m perfectly content being just a mortal.” Cathrine sighed, a mix of disappointment and exasperation washing over her face. “You’re missing out on so much. Magic is in our blood, and you’re just—” “—wasting my potential?” Julia interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “No, I’m choosing my potential. This is my life, and I’m not going to mold myself into someone else’s idea of what I should be.” “Suit yourself,” Cathrine said, her tone sharp and dismissive. She took a long sip of her drink, her expression darkening. “But just know, when the time comes and you’re alone in a world of magic, don’t come crying to me.” Julia sighed, feeling the weight of her sister's expectations pressing down. “I won’t be alone. I have Mario, and that’s enough for me.” “Is it?” Cathrine’s voice was almost a whisper now, a hint of concern creeping in. “Is it really?” “Yeah,” Julia replied firmly, her heart steady. “I’m building my life the way I want. You can keep your magic, Cathrine. I’m happy here.” The silence that followed was punctuated only by the distant clink of glasses and the soft laughter of other patrons, leaving the sisters to navigate the chasm of their differences, each firmly rooted in their own worlds.

On the next morning, the morning sun had barely kissed the city awake, Julia was already on her way to the office, her mind buzzing with the upcoming presentation. She'd left in such a hurry, she hadn't even spared a moment for a goodbye kiss. Mario, in his usual hoody and jeans, watched her go with a mix of amusement and admiration. He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "She's something else, that one," he murmured to himself. "Always so focused." With a sigh, he turned back into the apartment, planning to start his day with a leisurely breakfast.

Just minutes after Julia's departure, the apartment door swung open, and there she was, a look of realization on her face. "Did you forget something?" Mario asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Yes," she purred, closing the distance between them. "I forgot to tell you how much I love you.” Mario's smile widened, but before he could say anything else, she was upon him, her lips pressing against his with an urgency that took his breath away. Her hands, soft and warm, framed his face, and she kissed him with a passion that set his body on fire. Mario's heart raced, and he responded to her kiss, his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her closer. He could feel her body responding, her muscles tensing and relaxing against him. The kiss deepened, and a wave of desire washed over him, unlike anything he had experienced before. It was as if his senses had heightened, every touch, every taste, igniting a fire within.

As their kiss deepened, he became aware of a subtle transformation taking hold. Breaking away for a moment, Mario caught his reflection in the mirror—a sight that made him pause.

The reflection revealed a face that was his, yet not entirely. His features had become rugged, a day's worth of stubble shadowing his jaw, and his eyes held a new intensity. His body, too, had transformed, muscles defined and powerful, as if he had spent months in the gym. Confused, he turned back to Julia, his eyes searching for answers. "What... what's happening here?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse with desire and confusion. Julia's laughter filled the room, but as he watched, her features shifted, morphing into the visage of Cathrine, her sister. "I just wanted to help you become a better future-brother-in-law," Cathrine purred, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Mario, startled by the sudden change, tried to push her away, but Cathrine was already too close, her hand sliding under his waistband, her fingers wrapping around his growing arousal. A moan escaped his lips as she began to stroke him, her touch sending waves of pleasure through his body. "No, wait..." he protested weakly, his body betraying his words as he hardened under her skilled touch. He was losing control, his mind clouded with desire, and his body responded to her every touch. As Cathrine continued her sensual assault, Mario's clothes began to change. The soft fabric of his hoody transformed into a black medieval gambeson, its red lining contrasting against his skin. His jeans melted away, replaced by tight-fitting medieval pants and sturdy boots. He felt powerful, primal, as if he had stepped out of a legend. The apartment around them shifted, the modern furnishings dissolving into stone walls and torches, the chamber of a medieval castle. Mario, now a knight in appearance, stood tall, his body radiating a new-found confidence and strength. Cathrine's hand moved faster, bringing him closer to the edge. "You're almost there, my knight," she purred, her voice echoing in the stone chamber. Mario's breath came in ragged gasps, his body on the brink of release. But just as he was about to climax, Cathrine withdrew her hand, her laughter filling the room. "Enjoy your stay, brother-in-law!" she said, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. In an instant, she was gone, leaving Mario alone in the medieval chamber. He stood there, his body still buzzing with energy, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal turn of events. He looked down at his transformed self, the rugged knight in the mirror, and wondered what this meant for his future.

He barely had a moment to process this strange turn of events when the heavy wooden door swung open, revealing a knight in full armor. The knight's voice, deep and commanding, cut through the silence. "Come, man-at-arms! The enemy approaches, and our place is on the battlefield!" Mario's mind raced. This couldn't be happening; he was a photographer, not a warrior. But the fear in his eyes must have been evident, for the knight grabbed his shoulder, his grip firm yet reassuring. "No time for hesitation, friend. We fight as one, or we fall. The choice is yours." With a gulp, Mario nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. He followed the knight, his new armor clanking with each step, and soon found himself amidst a bustling courtyard. Soldiers were preparing for battle, sharpening weapons, and donning their gear. Mario's heart hammered against his ribcage as he realized this was no illusion; the scent of steel and leather filled his nostrils, and the sound of warhorses whinnying echoed off the castle walls.

As they rode towards the battlefield, Mario's fear intensified. The clatter of hooves and the creak of leather mingled with the sound of his own rapid breath. He was no warrior, and the thought of facing an enemy made his palms sweat and his stomach churn. But the thought of desertion and its consequences kept him moving forward. The battlefield emerged from the morning mist, a chaotic scene of clashing swords and shouting men. Mario's fear turned to terror as he found himself in the thick of it, sword in hand. He swung wildly, more out of self-preservation than skill.

The adrenaline coursed through his veins, sharpening his senses. He felt alive, every nerve tingling, as if he had awakened from a deep slumber. With a cry of determination, he charged at an enemy soldier, his sword finding its mark. The rush of victory flooded him, and the fear dissipated, replaced by a primal, blood-pumping exhilaration. He fought with newfound ferocity, each clash of blades bringing him closer to the heart of the battle. As the enemy retreated, Mario stood, breathless but triumphant.

Returning to the town, Mario and his fellow knights were greeted with cheers and jubilation. The streets were alive with celebration, and mead and ale flowed freely. Mario's senses were alive with the sights, sounds, and smells of the medieval world, and his body still buzzed with the adrenaline of combat. Mario's gaze wandered, and he spotted a beautiful maid serving drinks. Her eyes, a deep emerald green, seemed to beckon him. The adrenaline still coursing through his veins now took on a different form, igniting a fire in his loins. He approached her, his movements confident and purposeful. The maid, sensing his intent, offered a coy smile. As they found themselves alone in a secluded corner, Mario's hands were on her, his kisses urgent and demanding.

She responded with a passion that matched his own, her moans mingling with his grunts of desire. The intensity of their coupling was unlike anything Mario had experienced. He thrust with a primal urgency, his body demanding release. The maid's cries of pleasure echoed in his ears, spurring him on. “Yes, my lord," she panted, matching his rhythm. "Harder, please!"  The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, a primal beat to their dance. Mario's thoughts were consumed by the need to claim, to possess, to spread his seed. He wanted to mark her, to ensure his lineage, a primal urge he couldn't ignore. Mario's world blurred as his climax approached. The room seemed to spin, and just as he was about to find release, his surroundings shifted. He was back in his apartment, the maid's cries still echoing in his ears. He stood there, his body still charged with energy, his appearance that of the medieval knight. The sensation of the maid's touch lingered on his skin, and he felt a deep, unsatisfied longing. He had been so close, and now he was back in his own time, his reality, but his body still craved the release it had been denied.

The day had been a blur of presentations and meetings for Julia, her mind buzzing with the excitement of professional challenges. As she stepped into the apartment, the familiar surroundings greeted her, but something felt amiss. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of Mario, her fiancé, sitting in the living room with an altered appearance. She paused, her eyes widening at the sight that greeted her. His physique had transformed, radiating a rugged masculinity. The gentle photographer she knew now embodied the essence of a medieval knight, his muscular frame adorned in a brown velvet jerkin with a bold red lining.

Julia's heart raced, her mind struggling to comprehend. Before she could speak, Mario was upon her, his eyes burning with an unfamiliar intensity. He pulled her close, his lips finding hers with a hunger that left her breathless. She felt his hands, rough and demanding, exploring her body, igniting a fire within her. "My love," he growled, his voice deep and primal. "I've been waiting for you." Julia surrendered to his embrace, her body responding to his touch with a fervor she had never known. He lifted her, carrying her to the bedroom, where he laid her gently on the bed. The gentleness of this act contrasted sharply with the ferocity of his desire. His kisses became more demanding, his hands more insistent. She could feel his hardness against her, and a surge of pleasure rippled through her. This was her Mario, but with an intensity she had never experienced. "I want you," he whispered, his breath hot on her skin.

Julia's body trembled as he entered her, filling her with a raw, primal force. She wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. The pleasure was unlike anything she had known, and she found herself surrendering to his dominance. "You're mine," he declared, his voice hoarse with passion. "I'll give you what you truly desire." Julia's eyes flickered open, meeting his intense gaze. "Yes... oh yes!" she cried out, her voice mingling with his as their pleasure built. But as their climax neared, Mario's words sliced through her ecstasy. "I will plant my seed in you, and you will bear my heir." Julia's eyes snapped open, her pleasure turning to panic. She had always trusted Mario, but this new persona, driven by a primal need to procreate, was foreign … "No! Stop, you're not wearing a condom!" She struggled against his powerful frame, her protests muffled by his relentless kisses. "No more condoms," he grunted, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "I'll give you my legacy." Julia's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing as she realized the implications. She tried to push him away, but his strength was overwhelming. "No, please, Mario, stop!" Her words trailed off as she felt his body tense and then, in that moment, as his climax neared, Mario's mind cleared. He froze, his body trembling as he realized the depth of his actions. With a final, desperate effort, he withdrew, his seed spilling onto his chest instead of its intended target.

Breathing heavily, Mario stared at Julia, his expression a mix of shock and relief. "What have I done? I almost impregnated you. "Julia reached out, her hand gently caressing his cheek, her eyes soft with understanding. "You stopped, my love. You resisted Catherine's spell. She wanted you to become a mindless breeder, but you broke free." "I... I felt so compelled, so driven by a force I didn't understand." Mario's voice trembled. "I almost impregnated you against your wishes." "But you didn't," Julia assured him, her voice steady. "You're still the man I love, just with a different... packaging." She smiled, her eyes taking in his transformed appearance. "Though I must admit, this new look suits you." Mario chuckled, a sound that held both relief and amusement. "I feel like I've lived a lifetime in a day. From a medieval battlefield to..." He gestured to himself, "...this." "My brave knight," Julia whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. "You've endured Catherine's enchantment, and you came back to me. That's all that matters." As they embraced, Mario's mind began to clear, the fog of magic lifting. He realized the depth of his sister-in-law's manipulation and the power she held over him. But for now, in the warmth of Julia's embrace, he was grateful to have her by his side, guiding him through this unexpected transformation.

Julia had tried her best to avoid any contact with her sister, Cathrine, ever since the incident with Mario. The memory of that day still made her blood boil; Cathrine's meddling with her fiancé's appearance and personality was unacceptable. As the days inched closer to her wedding with Mario, Julia found herself avoiding Cathrine, creating a distance that hadn't existed before. "You can't stay mad at her forever, Julia," Mario's gentle voice broke through her thoughts one evening as they sat on the couch, his hand resting on her knee. "She's your sister, and family is important. I know you're upset, but holding onto anger won't help anyone." Julia sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I know, but she went too far. Changing you like that... it was just wrong." "I understand, and I won't let her do anything like that again. But maybe, just this once, we can invite her and my brother over for dinner. A peaceful gathering might help ease the tension." Julia considered his words. Mario was right; she couldn't hold a grudge forever.

The evening of the dinner arrived, and Julia, Mario, and Cathrine sat around the table in the cozy apartment, sharing light-hearted conversation.

It was almost as if the tension between the sisters had never existed. Julia felt a twinge of guilt for her cold behavior towards Cathrine, but she quickly pushed it aside, reminding herself of the reason for her anger.

Just then, the front door opened, and Liam, Mario's younger brother, stepped inside. But something was different. The nerdy, bespectacled physics student they knew had been replaced by a tall, confident man with a striking appearance. His once-slender frame had filled out, revealing a muscular build, and his hair, now perfectly styled, framed his face, accentuating his strong jawline.

"Hey, everyone!" Liam announced, his voice booming with newfound charisma. "Sorry I'm late. Had a last-minute meeting with a client." Julia's eyes widened in shock. This was not the Liam she remembered. "Liam, you look... different," Mario said, his voice laced with surprise. Liam flashed a dazzling smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, I decided to make some changes. Quit the science gig and got into consulting. Pays better, you know? And with the ladies, well, let's just say they're more attracted to a high-income guy." Julia's jaw dropped. "You mean to tell us you left your PhD for a job in consulting?" Liam's chest puffed out proudly. "Absolutely! I mean, who has time for all that academic stuff when you can make real money? And I plan to start a family soon. Kids are expensive, you know?" Julia's jaw dropped, and she glanced at Mario, who looked equally stunned. Liam's transformation was astonishing, and the implications of it sent a shiver down Julia's spine. Cathrine, however, seemed delighted. "Isn't it wonderful? At least someone in this family understands the importance of carrying on the lineage." Julia's anger flared, but Mario placed a calming hand on her knee under the table. She took a deep breath, determined not to let Cathrine ruin this evening.

Some weeks later the wedding of Mario and Julia was a joyous occasion, a celebration of love and the triumph of their unconventional relationship.

As the newlyweds exchanged vows, a sense of peace settled over the guests, who had gathered to witness this union. Among them, Cathrine stood, her emerald eyes gleaming with a newfound satisfaction. Liam, now a charismatic consultant, exuded charm as he mingled with the guests. As he approached a young witch, a coy smile played on his lips, and he whispered, "A beautiful night for a wedding, don't you think?" "Indeed," she replied, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "But I can't help but wonder, what's a handsome consultant like you doing at a wedding like this?" Liam's laughter filled the air, a rich, confident sound. "Oh, I'm here to celebrate family. And perhaps, to find a little magic of my own."

Cathrine observed the exchange with a sense of victory. *'Yes, Liam will be the key to my plan,'* she thought. *'With his charm and virility, he'll ensure a powerful magical lineage. And Mario, well, he'll just have to accept his role as a footnote in my grand design.'* As the wedding festivities continued, Cathrine's gaze shifted to the happy couple. *'Julia may have evaded my enchantment, but her sisterly bond will be her undoing. And as for Mario, his kindness will be his downfall. They will learn that magic always finds a way to assert its dominance.'* With a satisfied smirk, Cathrine raised her glass, toasting the unsuspecting couple. "To the newlyweds, and the magic that binds us all." Her laughter, a chilling echo in the joyous atmosphere, signaled the beginning of a new chapter in her grand scheme.

[nafroteil]

The Fans in the Joseph Quinn fandom right now are beyond embarrassing at this point.

I don’t like speaking out because it just invites the crazies to come attack you because the internet emboldens people and bad behaviour. However as someone who has seen play out before over and over across fandoms I am going to give my advice. Take it or block me, I do not care but if there is one person out there who is new to fandoms or young and is wondering if this is normal I want to explain to you that this is going down a dark path.

You all need to calm down seriously.

FANS.ARE.NOT.OWED.ANYTHING

As someone who has been in fandoms since the onset of the internet age I have seen this before and it will not play out the way you think or want.

You will not shame him into behaving the way you want. You will drive him away from interacting with fans.

You are mad because at the beginning of his career he was seen as attainable.

He was attractive but not in a way that was intimidating like many celebrities. He was dorky, approachable and interacted in person, and seemed like he was attainable to you, a celebrity you may have a chance with.

He is becoming more famous as he does less attainable. He’s getting noticed in the general public, getting bigger and bigger roles and no longer needs to go to conventions etc.

Your mad because a lot of you feel betrayed by a relationship you never had or never will. He didn’t choose you and he didn’t choose a woman who reflected you or what you believed he should be attracted too and you’re mad.

Fans are not owed anything.

We are consumers. We consume a product (their artwork/entertainment).

Anything beyond that is an extra, the celebrities are the only ones in control of how much engagement with fans they provide. That is how consent works.

We are consumers. He doesn’t owe you interactions beyond what he chooses, he doesn’t owe you conventions he chooses not to attend, he doesn’t answers, he doesn’t owe you his privacy.

You want him to do conventions again? Going on social media where he’s featured and saying shit, harassing him, etc will not get you more conventions or interactions. You will drive him away.

H oh w many celebrities avoid fans because of their behaviour? A lot. And he will be the next. You cannot shame someone into behaving the way you want.

That’s not ok behaviour. You are exhibiting unacceptable behaviour. This is not ok, you can not act this way towards anyone in acceptable society.

Like it or not. Things like conventions are for fans, they are fan service, they are not a job requirement of celebrities. They are another form of work/entertainment, you are not owed opportunities to meet or engage with them, that is why you pay to attend conventions. They are work.

Things like the Oscar after party is also work. In that job celebrities are expected to attend things like that to promote their upcoming work. I know it’s called a “party” but it is promotion work, it is mingling with industry influencers and possible future projects.

He is clearly there promoting Warfare which is coming out in a month, he is posing with costars of that movie. It is promotional work.

And as much as you may not like or agree with it, attending the after party got him pictured on actual entertainment sites. Going to a convention would not generate that exposure or promotion. It just doesn’t

In reality Conventions are very small part of a fandom and majority of celebrities involved in fandoms don’t attend them frequently or at all, or take breaks. They are not a huge source of work/pay for a celebrity who is succeeding in general public.

He is outgrowing them.

No amount of shaming or criticizing every aspect of his life will bring him back to you. You are acting like a crazy ex.

As for the issue of his girlfriend. I have seen this played out before too, you are not unique.

He chose someone who dies not reflect you. And you have gone out of your way to find every possible way to make her problematic.

Regardless of whether or not she has done problematic things or not, I guarantee you would have go so far in to analyze every little detail to find an issue if she was not a woman of colour.

You use her problems as a shield to hide behind to say the vilest things and hide your own prejudice. We have seen over and over again when the internets boyfriend dates a woman of colour.

You can say what you want but I have seen again and again, there are many white womam/celebrities who have said or associated with problematic stuff and they get a pass when they date your fav celebrity. They always pick apart woman of colour and find fault in them bc they do not reflect you or who and jeopardize your parasocial relationship with your fav celebrity.

The sad reality is that the moment he does a movie or something you enjoy/like you will gush about him and the moment he breaks up with her you will say “he came crawling back”.

It’s like a script, Nostradamus could see this coming. Bc it happens every time. Joseph Quinn is not unique and this entitled fan behaviour is easily not unique.

Im too old and tired of this.

Take my advice and stop or be mad about it and block me.

Blocking is a great feature, I use it to keep my fandom experience enjoyable, I suggest you do the same.

[starhvney]

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mystreet garroth x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your boyfriend finally pursues a career that he chose for himself, so to show him your support you surprise him at his training.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, firefighter garroth guys firefighter garroth this is in fact not a drill, established relationship

𝐂𝐖: none!

𝐀/𝐍: this fic is based off of @artists-who-rarely-draws hc that garroth would be a firefighter in the mys universe! aren’t firefighters just sooo >>>

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

you were so happy for garroth, nothing but overwhelming support for him was in your heart as he finally was able to pursue something he truly wanted to do for a career. after zane had officially taken the reins of the ro’meave corporation, your boyfriend had immediately enrolled in a firefighting training academy.

he had mentioned his interest in the career path before, but you didn’t realize just how passionate about it he was until he excitedly came home from the first day of the academy, rambling about how well he did.

it warmed your heart, the childlike excitement in his eyes when he detailed the training he went through every day. it was so different from his time in college, when he told you he was majoring in business with a disinterested shrug and a dull look in his eyes.

last week, as you and garroth sat on your couch for your movie night date, you saw that the pd fire academy was asking for volunteers for their upcoming rescue drill. from the corner of your eye you glanced at him, debating whether you should bring it up or not. he had been particularly focused on the rom-com that played, the reflection of the brightly colored screen lighting up his eyes. on a whim, you applied to volunteer without saying a peep, turning your phone off and snuggling up to him with a smirk on your face.

this morning as he asked you what your plans were for the day as usual, you briefly shrugged off the question with an excuse of running a few errands. he gave you a small confused look but shrugged it off, leaning down to kiss you and leaving in his cargos, boots, and the pd fire department shirt that hugged onto his muscles that seemingly continued to grow by the day.

yes, you were very supportive of his career choice.

now, a few hours later, you find yourself in a dim building, the room illuminated by the orange lights shining into the “smoke” that the fog machines dispersed. not only did it look like the building was on fire, but the lack of ac in the summer heat added to the ambiance, and had you slightly regretting your decision. you looked down at the tag that they had given you before escorting you to your spot, telling you to lay limp until you were successfully “rescued”.

legs disabled from fallen debris, half-conscious. critical condition.

you lay there for quite a while, wondering if garroth would even be the one to get you. your doubts are thankfully squandered when you hear him, calling out a code call to presumably another fireman. his familiar footsteps turn into the room you’re in, and you hear his breath satisfyingly hitch in his throat before a disbelieving huff follows. 

quickly, you clamp your eyes all the way shut, ignoring the tempting urge to smile as your plan sets in place.

“victim, victim, victim!” his deep voice calls, the noise of the thick material of his uniform meets your ears as he slides on his knees next to you. 

“she’s light,” he calls to the other pair of heavy footfalls that enter the room. “find an exit, i got her.”

you crack open your eyes, turning your head and looking up at him as a cheeky smile threatens to break on your lips. for just a split moment he narrows his eyes as they meet yours, tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek as he fights off his own urge to smile.

“…errands, huh,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head as he leans forward to read the tag on your shirt. he snaps right back into his profession, one of his hands reaching to grab your shoulder in a reassuring gloved grip. “you’re going to be okay. i’m gonna get you out here safe.”

a part of you wants to laugh at how serious he suddenly became, but through your want to tease him you instead found yourself repressing a giddy giggle. the summer heat was most definitely affecting him through the heavy layers of his gear, as a sheen of sweat covered his face and stuck the small bit of his golden hair coming out of his helmet to his forehead. 

you only get to admire him for a moment, before he quickly shifts his knee to part your legs, one of his hands grabbing onto your thigh and hitching it up. at the same time, he easily gathers both of your wrists into his other hand, using it to lift your torso off of the ground. he smoothly ducks his head under your shoulder, lifting you up and using his own shoulder to hold you on his back.

there's not even a grunt heard from his lips, but his heavy breaths brush against your arm as he uses one hand to pin your hand across his chest and to your leg, freeing his other hand. he has always been strong, but the extra training he has put in lately gave him an insane boost. through the material that covered him, you could still feel the bulk of his muscles from underneath you as he toted you through the building.

it was amazing, how easy he made it look. you found yourself back outside in seconds, having to close your eyes again from the sudden bright sun reflecting into your eyes. he held you so firmly on top of him that you barely moved as he jogged you out to one of the stretchers set up outside, sliding you down onto the material. 

he pauses for a second, his lips twitching as he pats your legs twice. “i’ll talk to you about this when i’m done,” is what he says without words, begrudgingly turning to run back into the building with another huff.

one of the supervisors lets you get up, thanking you for volunteering and giving you a water to rehydrate from the stuffy room you were stuck in. it’s only about fifteen more minutes of waiting before the rest of the volunteers are retrieved and the drill is over. garroth quickly walks your way as soon as he spots you again, pulling off his helmet and shaking out his pressed-down hair. his jacket has been shrugged off now, red suspenders hanging down on his cargos and his black shirt damp from sweat.

“and… why did you not think to mention this to me?” he asks, raising an accusatory brow and pulling you into his embrace.

“i wanted to see you in action. besides, if i told you, you might’ve chosen favorites.”

“hmm,” he hums lowly, rolling his eyes as he leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. “i would argue against that, but even for a drill i’d save you first.”

“ro’meave! quit flirting with your girl over there and get your ass over here! we still have to debrief.”

“yes, sir!” he calls back, turning to you with a sheepish smile as he tucks his chin down, looking at you through his lashes.

“i’ll see you in a sec, sweetheart. and don’t leave, you still have some explaining to do.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[ssivinee]

✧Mirroring Bluebird✧

BEBE! Bada Lee x BEBE! F Reader : You are the younger sister of Noze and had gone viral at the same time as her. While working under SM, you meet Bada and become a core member of Bebe, but what if you get the same treatment your sister does, just like in the first season?

Word Count: 2.3k

Note: Basically doing my req for the next few days, lol. Reader goes by a stage name! Something light as of rn. Also very much not proof read.

Character Vision Board

Gaining popularity in the Kpop industry as a dancer was quite common. There were multiple examples, but one of the most viral ones to date was the Noh sisters, Noh Jihye and Noh Y/n.

Generally known as Noze and Nova, the two of you were cast by Kai while he was looking for dancers for his debut. Kai was certainly particular with the dancers he chose, being meticulous about the entire process but seemingly making the right decision for his career when the two of you blow up. How couldn’t the people fall in love with the two of you? Your visuals were practically the same.

As the younger sibling, the only noticeable difference was your height, hair color, eyes, and lips, yet if you took a selfie with your sister, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. You were known for your iconic hair, which was colored black with a hefty midnight blue ombre, and full lips that were usually colored in a dusty pink.  

During your time as Kai’s dancer, your sister began to stray away from SM entertainment, trying out for other artists, but you were content, staying put in the current company. That’s when Bada started appearing as Kai’s dancer during festival performances.

The very first time you and Bada crossed paths, an in-house choreographer was instructing her on how to perform a routine for the water bomb. During that encounter, you not only met Bada but you also got acquainted with Lusher and Tatter. You hit it off quite nicely with the trio, but you couldn't help but be captivated by the tall dancer. Her natural leadership qualities and the budding connections she formed with all three of you marked the start of your group, which would later be known to the world as Bebe.

After a year of being friends, you and Bada put on your big girl pants, deciding to act on these feelings. So, after dating for a few months, you two became a couple. 

It was pretty cute. At first, you'd post pictures of your charming little dates with the dancer in the background, yet her face was always out of the frame. As you softly launched your relationship to the world, people in your comments went into a frenzy, assuming you were dating a man because of the clothing glimpses they could catch.

As time went on, your posts started to take on a distinct resemblance to Bada's. The timing, the themes, and even the locations you both chose became remarkably similar, to the point where your fans couldn't help but connect the dots. That's when all hell broke loose, as the realization hit: two of the hottest dancers in the K-pop industry were, in fact, a couple.

Of course, they’d eat it up. 

Four months ago, Bada had accepted the invitation to Street Woman Fighter, but she had to complete the team first. Bebe only currently had you and the Lee duo and Tatter, so you and Bada took some of your friends and students to achieve a successful team. Minah was a dancer in SM who had been close to you and Bada for some time, so picking her was a breeze. Then Kyma and Cheche were Bada’s students, while Sowoen has been yours for the past year.

So when the time finally came when every group was introduced, while crews were still shocked over Jam Republic, they couldn’t help but be surprised at the two big names under Bebe.

“Bada?” Lady Bounce Biggy gasps, seeing the tall dancer and her resume. Then the screen flashes again, showing your face and work experience. Everyone is shocked; your pretty face is an unanticipated surprise. “Season 1 had Noze, and now we have Nova in season 2?” Cera of Mannequeen says, choking a little when seeing your face. “Aren’t her and Bada together?” Halo of Wolf’Lo asks, pointing accusingly at the screen as her team nods.

“Is that healthy for a relationship?” 

“Will they be able to compete properly?”

“Doesn’t seem like they’ll be taking the competition seriously then.”

Those were just a few comments the two of you got. Expecting that already, you walked in with your crew as you were the first to enter the fight zone. As you all entered, Sowoen was the first to hit the stage and saw your team logo on the screen. “Bebe~” The maknae squeals as you enter. You, hand in hand with Bada, smile at the youngest.

“Okay. Let’s take a seat,” Bada announces, and everyone sits, you positioning yourself between Bada and Tatter. “I can’t believe this,” Lusher tells the crew, and Tatter nods, “Me either.” “There must be other teams,” Lusher says as she scans the room, seeing everyone else's crew logo.

Bada hypes herself up, saying she likes it as her grip on your hand tightens. You smile, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles, but you hear “What It Is” by Doechii playing on the large monitor before you can speak. The younger girls send a yelp, seeing the crew's evaluation video playing.

“Who’s the most popular choreographer on that team? Bada?” they hear Mina Myoung say. Then 1Million shows up on the screen, Lia Kim saying a few words, “The choreographer, sweeping the choreography field. A hot choreographer,” the girls cheer their leader on at the soft praises as you lean your head on her shoulder, a proud smile beginning to form on your face after hearing all the recognition your girlfriend got. 

“Nova is really popular, too,” Yeni Cho points out, and Baby Sleek nods, acknowledging your skills. “She’s a really entertaining performer. An eye-catcher for sure.” Chocol states, and you redden at the statement, causing Bada to pinch your side. You look at her, offended by the action, but she gives you a fake look of irritation, “Try not to fall for anyone else here.” 

You giggle, seeing her pout a little, “You know you’re the only one for me, baby.” She smiles, leaning her head on top of yours as the video continues to roll. “Other than Bada and Nova… the others are just kind of there,” Capri says, and you shake your head as Bada scoffs, “Shall we watch it over there?”

She doesn’t even wait for a response, just pulling your arm to the center. When everyone follows, they listen to Ling of Jam Republic, Gooseul of DeepNDap, the rest of Lady Bounce, and some of Wolf’Lo stating things about Bada and your crew. 

Yeni Cho popped up on the screen again, “She’s more popular compared to her dance skills.” That makes Bada chuckle, finding the comment amusing. You knew your girlfriend wouldn’t be affected by the comments made about her. She would be by what was said about her crew, though.

Of course, you weren’t safe either. “She’s just a pretty face like her sister,” Yoonji of Mannequeen says, and the other girls nod. “She’s just gonna be another Noze of this season,” Redlic points out, more in an evident tone than a hateful one. 

“Her and Bada are gonna have to carry Bebe hard.”

“Nova’s Bebe’s mascot. She doesn’t have to do anything.”

You laugh at the comments, none affecting you in the way they're supposed to, but Bada, on the other hand, seems to be fuming. As much as you got praised, most of it was for your looks. You had told Bada beforehand not to let it get to her and just to expect it, but Bada couldn’t help but fume at the comments.

As you all sit down, you notice her face going red and squeeze her hand in reassurance, whispering to her, “It’s fine, babe. We just have to show them why they’re wrong.” 

“They must be idiots to think you aren’t a good dancer just because you're pretty,” she tells you, rolling her eyes. You softly turn Bada’s head with your fingers, “Calm down.” Bada sighs when making eye contact with you, her body relaxing as you all wait for the next team. “They really shouldn’t underestimate pretty faces,” She says with a hum as she fixes the strands of hair covering your face.

Lady Bounce then comes in, a bit too rowdy for Bebe’s liking, and as the purple team took their seats, your gazes never wavered. You and Bada stared hard, causing some girls to shiver, especially with the dark glint in your eyes. Bebe loved calling you a serpent because you are the scarier sister, and your tall height also added to the scary factor. Your eyes are as compelling as a snake's and always intimidate people who meet you. Lady Bounce's face going a bit indifferent at the dancer's glares.

Then Mannequeen comes down, Bada meeting Yoonji’s gaze. As they come down, the team stands in front of the two tall ladies, and the rest of Mannequeen hype the girl who dances the Rover choreo in pure silence. All you could hear was her dress and heels clacking as the young girls of Bebe giggle. Bada just smiles condescendingly and bows, “Thank you~.”

You kept the unamused look, brows almost furrowing in disgust as Yoonji stopped. You mumble, “What was that?” yet make sure she hears your words. Seeing her hesitant face told you that she heard it loud and clear. As everyone begins taking their seats, Kang Daniel comes out, gives the introduction, announces the judges, and goes to change as they’re told.

When returning to your seat, everyone’s eyes go wide at the sight of your pants. You had a row of stickers on one leg, back and front. “She got like 7 on one leg, right?” Kristen mumbles to Latrice, who nods after counting the stickers on her leg. “Damn, that's rough,” Audrey says, knowing none of those stickers weren’t from anyone on Jam Republic.

“I’ll prove them wrong,” You tell your entire team, who look obviously angry for you. “They targeted you, and for what?” Tatter frowns, and you just pat her head with a tight-lipped smile.

When the battles are announced, 1Million’s Redy is called first, and she picks Bada. You were aware of the situation before. Bada explained that she was beginning to get too busy then, and Redy had already blocked her number before she could reach out. The timing was wrong, but you also understood the younger girl’s perspective.

“I just don’t respect you,” Redy simply states, but when Bada calls the girl “Soobin-ah,” everyone feels the second-hand embarrassment of Redy. When the battles begin, Redy isn’t bad, and you feel like you saw similar aspects of Bada’s style, probably due to them being on the same team previously. When Bada began, though, all eyes were on her, and NO ONE looked away, not even for a second.

Bada entertained the crowd, making sure to have her own fun. As she ends the dance, she peaks at you, winking, making you laugh. She sure knew how to tease people, you included, and used it to her advantage. Sometimes, it made you wanna curse how attractive she was. The battle concluded with Bada winning 3 to 0, and she smiled. 

She runs over to you in a crushing hug, and you giggle due to her heavy breathing. “You did good,” she nods as your hands caress her long hair. More and more battles then transpired, and you pretty much only paid attention to a select few. That was until you hear Tsubakill’s Akanen being called up. “The person I have no-respect for is… Bebe’s Nova.” You perk up at your name, smiling at your first battle of the night.

“Akanen-san, why did you choose Nova?”

“To see if the pretty face can show a pretty dance,” her tone felt intrigued by the idea of you, and you smirked, “I can show a dance. It just won't be pretty,” all you heard were “Oo’s ~” and “ah’s~” from other teams as you jump a bit, shaking away any straying nerves. Akanen goes first, and you hated to admit it, but you were impressed. She did her best to taunt you despite your height gap, which made you look down on her. At some point, she approaches you and imitates a hitting motion. Bada, her girlfriend reflexes kicking in, pulled your arm back, trying to create space between you two, but you weren't budging.

So when the music switches, you feel yourself getting hyped at the sound of “Kiss Kiss” by Chris Brown. When the chorus hits, you hit an air baby, and when landing on your feet, you glided on the floor only using your knees. You ensured everyone’s eyes stayed on you, commanding the stage in a way every other crew wasn’t expecting.

As everyone hears ‘kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss,’ you imitate kissy faces while shaking your hip as you follow it with a head whip. Following the synth in the back, you hit a crisscross that goes into a heel-toe pattern, and as you hit that, you end the dance with a slight shuffle.

While you danced, you heard basically Minah, Sowoen, and Lusher could be heard cheering for you loudly. You check back behind you, Bada giving you a proud smile and a curt nod as her arms stay crossed. That’s when the judges also reveal your score of 3 and 0. Bebe jumped and cheered, bringing you into a large group hug as Bada stood back, watching the younger ones praise you. “Okay, okay, stop hogging her,” She tells them, pushing their heads away jokingly.

Bada pulls you into a hug, arms embracing your neck as she gives your head several pecks. You giggle at the feeling, and you just smile, slightly looking up at her. “You did amazing out there.”

“Thanks, leader-nim,” you tease, and she pokes your side, rolling her eyes and letting out a light laugh. “Oh, be quiet,” she says, giving you a quick peck to shut you up real quick.

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